The Young Anchorwoman Slut Pt. 03

The warm liquid in her mouth was odorless, and tasted faintly bitter. She felt awash with shame and humiliation at being coaxed into literally cumming on her own face while the men laughed and whooped at the spectacle she just gave them.

They released her and the girl slumped on the floor, completely conquered and in a quivering mess. Her eyes half closed under the glare of the lights, mind far, far away.

Five men, cued by the master, stood around her prone body. The exhausted young girl, head resting on its side on the dark floor, was framed from above by the circle of men. Cocks pointed at her from five directions, like a fleshy version of a pentagram worshipping depravity. They were jerked to a final, messy conclusion.

Hot cum began raining down on Tess, covering her body like wet paint splashing on a Jackson Pollock canvas. It covered her upturned ear and across her hair. On the sides of her perky tits. On the smooth skin of her hip, dripping down her washboard stomach. It smeared her ripped black stockings. More pearly white substance stood in contrast against her black and red heels, as a particular abuser with a foot fetish unloaded on her ankles and feet to create his own special memory.

"Glorious. What a beautiful scene," concluded the master. His men nodded and expressed their agreement.

Through the fog of pain, pleasure and exhaustion, Tess felt a measure of pride at being described this way by the master. She took everything they threw at her, and survived. Not once did she contemplate using her safeword. She acted the part of the obedient slut all the way to the end, and soaked up every ounce of sexual aggression from 15 sadistic perverts.

A feeling of contentment from the sweet surrender overcame her. A small voice inside her head also screamed; it was grotesque! But she ignored it, for it didn't fit into her newfound world of submissive pleasure.

She turned her head towards the men standing over her, noticed her master and managed a weak smile.

The men applauded. Despite their experience with breaking multiple girls in their history, Tess stood out with her deep reserve of submissiveness. Whenever they felt they ran up against the edges of her tolerance, whether it be physical pain or withering shame, her answer was to find a deeper level of surrender. She had a repeating pattern of fear, reluctance and submission that whipped them into a frenzy; a symbiotic connection to their urge to intimidate, abuse and assert their dominance on an impressionable young girl.

The master and his men laid the young girl on a front-row seat in the theatre, sprawled on her overcoat. The fluids on her skin dripped and smeared onto her personal jacket. She was given time to gather herself while they lightheartedly dismantled their ad hoc setup of equipment. Once ready, Tess was helped to her feet gingerly. Her hips were sore from having her legs spread for most of the evening, muscles all over her body ached in protest. Worst of all, the relentless fucking had left her inner walls sore and abused, and her awkward gait up the aisle was met by more than a few chuckles from the men.

The men paused in front of a wall mirror as they neared the doors to the outside. They turned the young girl towards it so she could survey her own appearance. Her hair was still slick with sweat and her body was covered in drying cum. Still dressed in her pink 'FUCKTOY' collar and black corset, her skin looked red and puffy in places that bore the abuse from the pack of men. This was most apparent on her exposed pussy; its lips swollen and tender from the whippings. Her stockings were torn open here and there on both of her shapely legs, while an ankle strap hung loosely from one of her cumstained heels. She had already felt like a used whore after the debauchery ended, and now her reflection confirmed it for the young girl - to her deep humiliation.

"What a good slut," someone from behind her remarked.

"Thanks daddy," she replied as if on autopilot.

Her naked flesh was unceremoniously wrapped in her overcoat with its liner already soiled. Her face was serene, as the brisk breeze enveloped her naked ass and pussy when they emerged from the theatre in the wee hours of the morning.

The theatre's janitor looked on with amazement as he waited beside the door, wanting to catch a glimpse of the young slut who was the main event of the special debaucherous evening. If she was afraid of being recognized, she didn't let on.

"Tess, what an incredible night that was. You are becoming one hell of slave whore," said the master to the young girl standing in the soft breeze.

"Thank you master. I am happy to please you," she replied genuinely.

"We've got big plans for you," he said with a smile. He graced her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, and the young girl shivered under his touch.

"Do you want to continue seeing us?" he asked.

"Yes...there is nothing I want more," she said, while looking deep into his eyes.

He smiled, pleased with her response.

"That's a good slut. Wait for my call," he commanded her, and he turned away to step into a waiting luxury vehicle.

The young girl yearned to be held, and kissed, like he had done at the beginning of the evening. She looked forlornly at the departing car.

"This way, Tess," said one of the men, with a tone of civility after 'service' was over. It was like a switch for them. They were all now properly dressed, and none would suspect what they're willing to do to a vulnerable woman. But Tess knew.

The men put her in another waiting vehicle. She sat alone in the backseat this time, reeking of sex and sweat. She pulled her overcoat tightly around her, its liner already sticky on her skin. She felt so dirty, as though no matter how long she spent in the shower, the degrading stains on her flesh would never wash off.

She unconsciously ground her teeth at the memory of the cruel, sadistic eyes looming over her body in her mind's eye.

She realized if she tried to resist these haunting memories, she would be slowly driven insane by anguish at being so utterly and deeply defiled. It's like their depraved acts reached into her sense of existentialism. In fact, she told them with her very own words that she was their 'fucktoy. A cum whore. Ready to be used however they want," and that "she existed for (her master's) pleasure." She was partially to blame for her deep shame, as she gave her full consent to be abused.

The only answer that could put her confused mind to rest was accepting this upside down world as 'normal.' She told herself she had made a choice to be an object for these men, and the consequences were exactly as she had intended.

The young girl gathered her considerable willpower, and resolved to surrender herself completely from now on. She was a masochist, and no punishment was too great as long as it pleased her master and his men. She was a slut in feverish heat, ready to service multiple cocks in whatever hole they desire. Especially with all three at the same time. For a second, she yearned to go back into the seedy theatre to be fucked and abused some more.

She was no longer Tessa Tong, the up and coming darling of the evening news. She was, first and foremost, Tess the cum whore. Tess the obedient fuck toy for her master and his men. Tess the bound slut. Tess, who squirts on her own face during orgasms. The long depraved list goes on as each sick scene replayed themselves in her mind.

She caressed her pink leather collar affectionately, as if reaching out to her master in his absence. She then fell asleep, her young face serene against the car window.