Weird Fantasies 11: Pool Cheat

um, this one gets quite rough... like people getting hit in the face and bleeding.

*****

We're playing pool at a party and I cheat, and you win. We argue about how I cheated, moving balls around when I thought you weren't looking. You call me a hustler, and seem really upset, and I shout back at you.

We argue while everyone watches.

Then you slap me. Hard, so it hurts, so my face stings.

I stand there for a moment, shocked, and just look at you.

Then I say, "Go on. Do that again."

"Or you'll what?" you say, apparently thinking that's a threat or something.

"No," I say. "Do that again. Please."

You seem surprised. Then you do.

That time is hard enough my lip squashes on my teeth, and I taste a little blood. I wipe my hand on it, and look at it. Then I look back at you.

Then I spit at you. Pinkish spit, mixed with blood.

You look angry, really angry.

You slap me again, and I just stand there. My head turns as you hit me, but I turn it back. I spit again.

You hit me in the tummy, hard, so I'm winded and sore and I bend over. You hit me, and I gasp, and bend, and then I stand up again. And spit at you again.

You look even angrier. You put your hands on my neck and squeeze.

You squeeze, tight, so I want to cough and gasp.

You squeeze, and then you say to me that you're going to teach me a lesson. All of you are.

I don't care. I want you to. I spit again, badly. So it dribbles down my chin, and onto your hand.

This time you spit back. Then you slap me. Then you grab my hair, and pull on it, roughly, pull so I can't help but lean towards you, suddenly trapped.

You reach up my skirt, with rough groping fingers. You reach up it, put your hand underneath, and press your fingers against me, up between my legs. I wince, because it hurts, and because I'm trying to be rude on purpose. And because I'm hoping you don't notice I'm wet through my undies. You seem to notice, unfortunately. You grin, quite unpleasantly. You pull my undies out of the way, and push your fingers inside me, and they go in me easily, all warm and slidey, wet with me, and you grin some more as you feel that, and as you finger me.

I wince some more too.

"Do you like that?" you say.

"I hate it," I say, and spit at you again, so you kind of yank your fingers out of me, roughly, painfully, and reach up, and tug down my singlet top so one of my breasts is bare.

You take it out in a room full of people. So they can all see it, see me. Like they just saw me get fingered.

For some reason that excites me.

You look at my breast for moment. Then you slap it, hard, very hard, so tears come to my eyes. Then you push me onto the pool table behind me, push me face-first onto it, bending me over it, with my feet still on the floor. You hold me there. You hold me down easily, with one hand in the middle of my back, pressing, and then you start taking off your belt with your other hand.

I struggle. I try to get back up, realizing what you're about to do. I don't mind being spanked, or even whipped with a belt. I just don't want it to happen to me in front of a room full of strangers.

I struggle, but it doesn't do much good. You're strong, and hold me easily with one hand, one arm with your weight on my back, and I can't get away.

You take off your belt and hit me.

I gasp. I shriek. I shout angry protests and tell you to fuck off. You hit me anyway, and I can't quite believe you are.

It hurts. It hurts more than a hand. It stings all sharply, and somehow aches too. It must be leaving marks on my skin. It must be bruising me.

First you hit me through my skirt, while I'm still struggling. Then you seem to realize I can't do much to stop you, and so you push my skirt up, and hit my bare ass. My undies are small and pretty, small enough half my ass is bare, and they aren't really much help with the being hit.

So you hit me.

You hit me a lot. You hit me until I'm sobbing, until I'm crying, but also until the blows on my ass have made me all warm and wet and throbby-tingly inside.

Then you move, and stand behind me.

You move, still holding me.

For a second I'm just glad you stopped. For a second I'm glad the whipping is over. I started this, yes, but we got more into it than I'd really meant to, and the pain has almost got to be too much. I'm relieved. I'm glad it's over.

Then I realize it isn't.

I hear you unzip you jeans.

I hear that, and realize how close you're standing behind me, pressing your legs against mine, trapping me.

I realize this isn't over at all.

I can't believe what you're about to do. I try to get up, and I say, "Fuck off," and, "No way."

Because a roomful of people are watching, I think. Not exactly no to it all.

I try to get up, but you just push me back down, and grab my arm, and twist it up behind my back, and hold me. You hold me down, and pull my undies out of the way, and stick your cock into me, and I feel it so hard and hot against my wet that I stop moving and just lie there.

I lie there while you fuck me.

And then I start to fuck you back.

I'm already close. I'm wet from being spanked, and I can feel my ass sore every time you bump into it as we fuck. I can feel eyes on me, too, people watching, and that's also why. Doing this, being treated like this, while a roomful of people watch. It's exciting, and I'm close, and I realize you are too. You're groaning and gasping and I can feel you start swelling inside me.

I can feel it, against my insides, as you move, and I suddenly think to worry about that.

"Don't come inside me," I say, which is unlike me really, but you're a stranger at a party who just beat me with a belt in front of a roomful of other strangers, so it kind of makes sense not to have your come inside me.

Or you cock, really, but it's too late for that now.

"Please not inside me," I say, but you don't answer, and keep fucking. A moment later, though, you grab my hips and pull me off the table. You pull me back, sprawling a bit, then you grab my hair, and hold me by my hair, and push me down, making me kneel in front of you.

I know why.

Anyone could guess why.

Your cock is in your other hand. You hold it out, and I don't care any more. I take it in my mouth. I suck, tasting you, tasting us, my wet too. I suck and you start to come, and as you do you pull it out so it goes on my chin and lips as much as in my mouth.

Then you pull me back up, by my hair, and push me face-down on the table again, and say, "Who's next?"

I start to struggle. I kick, and say, "No way," again, but you ignore me again, and hold me down easily again, and another guy whose been watching says yes, he will.

I kick and try to pull my arms free, but it doesn't do much good. Someone slaps my ass, hard, a couple of times, and then the new guy sticks himself into me.

I go still when he does.

I go still, but then I start to fuck him too. I still haven't come.

When he's ready he pulls me onto the floor, and comes on my mouth and face, and then you both lift me back onto the table and someone else fucks me. And someone else after him.

You don't let me come. They don't let me come. On purpose, I think, in case I stop. I don't really know why. I don't know I could make you all stop.

People watch, and I fuck, and occasionally someone smacks me too.

The fifth guy comes inside me, and everyone who's still waiting is upset. They all tell him he's disgusting, that they don't all want to fuck his spunk, and that he's really rude as well, since I'd asked you all not to do that. They make him kneel down and lick it back out of me, and that's so desperately exciting for me that they have to pull him away so I don't come. And after that I try a bit harder to squeeze and move and make them finish inside me by mistake. I do again on guy number eight, and he has to lick it out of me as well.

I'm lying on the table, my face on the green felt, all sweaty and breathless and smugly pleased with myself, when guy number nine says he doesn't want to put his cock where someone else already came, and he's having my ass instead.

"No," I say, "Please don't," but nobody listens.

They hold me. They push me against the table. And he does. He has my ass. And I come. I can't help it. It's so utterly shameful and degrading to have this done to me, that I come.

Which makes him come too.

So then he has to lick it out of me, there, as well.

Which is the most wonderful slippery licky warm feeling I've ever felt. I moan. I sigh. I whisper how good that feels. And the rest of you all think that's funny, and all hold him there, and make him lick me until I come again.

And after that, a couple more men fuck me, the last who were watching, but I'm getting tired, and it's becoming a chore, and you all seem to be about done too. After those two, you let me stand up, and get off the table, and tell me I can go.

I say I don't want to.

You seem surprised, then tell me not to be silly.

"I'm not," I say. "I'll have a rest for a bit if you like, but I don't want to go."

You shrug, and tell me to sit on the edge of the table while you keep playing pool, and to suck off anyone who asks me to. So I do.