The Party

The evening comes to an end for Kevin. The casual party having morphed into something completely unexpected. An ordeal to forget. But nothing is ever really over. There are always repersussions.

  • Score 9.5 (24 votes)
  • 2539 Readers
  • 3492 Words
  • 15 Min Read

Part IV: It's Never Really Over

The flashback ends and my thoughts return to my present predicament. I am desperate to leave, but each turn I take seems blocked. Even if I do find my way out, I have no clear plan as to how to get back home. Matt’s home is far outside of the city limits. Walking is out of the question. Hitchhiking is a thought, but it's @ 3am and traffic is practically non-existent. I’m a disheveled mess. Who would even stop and give me a ride? I know I wouldn't pick up someone who looked like me. With my luck, any guy that did stop would be a pervert. I've had my fill of perverts tonight. I've put out enough.

Anyway, that's several steps ahead of where I am at this moment. In my effort to evade Justin's lusty gaze and that creepy guy's crude gestures, I was running. Paying more attention to what was behind me instead of what was in my path. Naturally I smashed straight into Matt, both startling and delighting him, and exasperating me. Justin catches up to us and the creepy guy by the pizza oven has joined up too. Matt greets him. Todd is his name and he is already acquainted with Justin.

“Todd, this is Kevin, have you guys met?”

“No, but he's come up in conversation several times. I was told I should seek him out and say Hello. I’ve heard that he's super friendly and a lot of fun.” Todd smiled broadly as he said this and held out his hand for me to shake. “Hey Kev.”

I reluctantly shook his hand and said: “Hey.”

Matt continued: “I was just about to show them the pool house. Why don't you come along? A quick tour and then we can chill out for a bit. Maybe play a few ‘games’.” (Matt places emphasis on the word ‘games’)

Todd snickers: “Yeah I like ‘games’, (imitating Matt's accentuation).

We have stopped walking. Todd puts his arm around my waist and gives me a squeeze. “Fun party isn't it, Kev?”

I mumble a response, not really saying anything intelligible.

Matt interjected: “Certainly seems like he's been enjoying it. I'm actually a bit mad. The party was to show off my renovation. Instead, Kevin seems to have upstaged me. Half of the party has been upstairs all night. Rather rude of him.” Matt used a pouty voice: “He's what everyone will be talking about tomorrow, not my remodel. They probably won't even remember it all happened at my party.”

Justin and Todd express sympathy “Awww. we noticed. We love what you did with the place… this is definitely a night we won't forget.”

Todd asks me what I think about Matt's remodel. It's a rhetorical question as he gives me no time to respond. “Oh, yeah. I bet you haven't had time to look around. You've spent all night staring at the ceiling with your legs in the air.”

We resume a slow walk towards the pool house, which is the last place I want to go. It’s apparent what their true intentions are. I'm not stupid, and I want no part of it. I'm so very tired. I'm weak, my whole body aches, especially my ass. The three of them have me boxed in. I am frustrated and feel defeated. Part of me says to just give in, get it over with, and then try to leave again. Yet another part of me feels that if I surrender, not only am I complicit, but perhaps deserving of whatever fantasies they want to fulfill using me.

I make another attempt to back away, but Justin, ever vigilant, thwarts my effort.

I utter a plea for mercy: “Matt, really, it's been a lot of fun, but I'm drained and so tired. I’m not up for it. Maybe we can do this some other time.” That was a lie. I will never ever come back here. I never want to see his face or his place again.

“Up for what?” Justin growls, “We're just talking about a fucking tour of Matt's pool house. Stop whining. You're being a disrespectful bitch again.”

Matt tries to lighten the air: “No worries Kev, there's a couch. We can chill and take a load off.”

My mind hears ‘get’ a load off? I feel certain that I heard an emphasis on ‘load off’? I groan.

Todd slips his arm around my back again. His hand migrates down my spine and works its way under the waistband of my shorts.

“Hmmmm. Our boy seems to have gone commando. No undies.”

“Cocksucker had some earlier,” Matt said. “I relieved him of those. Boxers… with duckies. Rather twinkyish, don't you think. Probably has some pairs at home with dinosaurs and fire trucks on them.”

“No”, giggled Justin. “Sesame Street… superman”

“The ducks were kind of sweet in a way. Made me feel like a real daddy schooling his son in the ways of the world. He's got a juicy ass that just begs to be used.” Matt goes: “You'll see...Anyway we shredded them ducky pants and put them to better use. Stuffed them in his mouth and covered his peep holes with ‘em. Did them ducks taste good, Kevy?”

I didn't answer. My attention was focused more on Todd's hand which had located my crack. A finger was slithering down the crevice. It began to probe…searching for a way inside me. I took notice of his crotch. His member was beginning to swell. The outline of it pushing hard against the fabric of his tight pants. It was very apparent that he was cut. I watched in apprehension as his shaft continued to expand down the inside of his thigh. It appeared very long.

“Ahh” exclaimed Matt. “Here's a fun fact I bet you didn't know… when Kevy got here tonight he was practically a virgin. He's Jon's bitch. Past two years. Jon's his first and only, at least in regards to his insides… But let me tell you, Jon ain't got much down there to speak of. He ain't a show-er or a grow-er. I think the lad has known he's been missing out on something. He's been coveting my cock for quite a while. Haven't you, boy?”

“NO. No I mean yes,” I stuttered. “I'm with Jon. He makes me happy.. I mean.. and he’s the only one…so far...until.. but I wasn’t coming on to Matt. I never meant for…”

Matt interrupted me. “What the boy means to say is that he was in my face ever since he arrived. Gulped down a few drinks, probably for courage and then he was all over me. I mean it was embarrassing. Groping my crotch. Worked his hand down inside my trousers. He practically had me unzipped and exposed in the kitchen. Begging me to put it in him. Jesus. Jon's here. I kept telling him that. ‘Shit. Not here.. not now. What's wrong with you’.”

The blatant lies were astonishing. “That is not the way it ...” I sputtered. I had barely spoken to Matt this evening before HE forced himself on ME in the bathroom. He's the one who had been lusting after me.

“That's exactly the way it happened. I had to slip Jon a little something in his beer. I didn't want him to see how his little fucktoy was acting.”

“No worries mate, we can see it.” Todd said as he simultaneously stuck his tongue in my ear, squeezed my asscheek and slid a finger in my hole. It startled me.

And that’s when it happened. I guess it was his finger and his squeezing, plus all the air that had been pumped into my ass earlier by all those cocks. I kind of farted. Well, not kind of, an actual fart. One of those long bubbly farts. Air mixed with semen just sputtered out… in frothy, creamy squirts. It was embarrassing. I turned red. Naturally everyone heard it and Todd certainly felt it. It took Todd by surprise and filled him with delight. “ Oh Man! He's wet! I mean he's really wet! Little cocksucking faggot wants more.”

Todd swirled his fingers around my hole and withdrew them from my shorts . He waved two of his digits in front of everyone's face for show. They were drenched in thick white cum that was trickling down. He crammed them in my mouth and demanded I tell him which guy the jizz belonged to.

“Better not be mine,” chirped Justin. “I told him to keep all my guys inside him.”

By now we had arrived at the door to the poolhouse. Matt said he had some thoughts about what to do once we got inside. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and said that he had some vids of Bryan and him banging my ass earlier. He suggested that he broadcast them to the tv so we could all watch. “Better yet,” he exclaimed: “How cool would it be to bend him over and have him watch himself getting fucked good and hard on the screen while the three of us are all taking turns slamming his ass at the same time. Let him experience a sort of 3D effect. Make him watch onscreen the facial expressions he was making when he was being impaled. Watch his tight little ass being vanquished. Listening to all the cute little screams and moans he was making at the time… all while the three of us jackhammer his butt in the present.”

Todd and Justin enthusiastically endorsed this idea.

“One of the hottest moments,” Matt continued, “was near the beginning.

I was opening him up, forcing my dick further inside him. When I heaved that final thrust that got me as far up him as I could go. Deeper than any man had ever been in there… his twinky eyes got so big and his mouth opened wide. He let this long gasp-moan that said to me that he had a new understanding of just how good a cock can feel. He had tears of.. of.. it had to be ecstasy. I demonstrated to him how real men fuck. Daddy made him a man. Made him realize what he had been missing. I want to recreate that moment.”

Todd interjected that we could watch and recreate all the scenes. They could critique me.. give me pointers on becoming a better, eager slut. How to best present and use my hole to please all the men awaiting me in my future.

Matt and Justin agreed. There was a growing wet spot in Todd's pants where his boner ended.

Matt fished his keys out of his pocket and in his hurry to unlock the door, he dropped them. It was now or never. Everyone’s attention was diverted for a second, and I took advantage of it. I summoned all my strength and pushed through the three of them. I took off running. I scrambled down the cement path and around the perimeter of the pool. Through the yard, and patio, and raced into the house… pushing aside anyone that got in my way. I sought out the front door and dashed outside.

I scanned the landscape. His front yard was huge. I sprinted down the walkway. Cars were all lined alongside the driveway which was so long I could barely make out where it met up with the road. My gaze happened upon a couple guys leaving, and about to get into a car. I felt a sudden rush of hope. Running and hollering down to them, I begged for a ride. They frowned at each other and gave me a reluctant look. They knew exactly who I was. I recognized the chubby one from upstairs. He had sat on my face and made me munch his ass and lick his balls. It was obvious they were searching for a way to say no. I didn't care. I continued to plead. They asked where I was going, hoping they were headed in the opposite direction. No such luck for them. Then they said that my place was further than they were going… but in the end they agreed to take me part way. No one said a word the whole trip, though I think I sobbed a little. As we journeyed, they had a change of heart. A moment of self reflection perhaps, more likely pity on me. They drove me to my apartment. I thanked them, went into my unit and just crashed. I fell asleep praying… hoping it would turn out to be a dream.

**********

Months have now passed. Jon, of course, wanted nothing to do with me. We talked briefly a few times, but it was apparent that Matt had gaslit him into believing that I had initiated everything that night. In this version, he told Jon that I had been the one aggressively flirting, that I had been making advances towards him for months. Matt said I cornered him in the bathroom and grabbed his cock. Matt apologized. He said he was drunk, and not in his right mind. He had reluctantly succumbed to my unceasing pleas to be fucked.

Matt said that I wanted it raw and rough.He said that I coerced Bryan to join in. I had exhausted them both and was still pleading for more. I had pressed, no, begged him to send up more of his friends… preferably ones who had giant wieners. He said I ruined his party.

According to Matt, he was the hero, finally able to expose me as the slutty twink that he always knew I was. He told Jon that he deserved much better than me. He said that I was a bad lay… one of the worst he ever had, pitiful how unskilled I was. He regretted it and that it was definitely not worth ruining their friendship over.

To bolster his version,Matt sent some video clips to Jon as proof of my nature… starting with my “verbal consent” to it all. Jon sent them on to me. He was very nasty and called me a big fat liar and country trash. He wouldn’t listen to anything I said. The vids Matt had sent were heavily edited, none of them showed the parts where I protested, sobbed, and tried to get away.

Before long I learned just how many of the guys took videos that night. My ruination was well documented and from many different angles. Numerous uploads were made to every conceivable porn site. Over the ensuing weeks I got anonymous texts and e-mails with links to many of them. It was very dispiriting to watch them and depressing to know that everything was out there. My face clearly visible, I was very identifiable.

Someone took the time to stitch a number of the vids together, so that the viewer could watch me be corrupted in the correct sequence. The good news, if you could call it that, was that there weren't as many dicks in my ass as I had feared. I counted eight that actually penetrated me. Of course there were plenty of others that just throat fucked me. A few were just spectators. Pants down, dicks out. Masturbating with one hand, their phones in the other, recording it all for posterity. Goading, whooping and cheering on whoever was laying down pipe in me or sending cum down my throat.

They loved when I moaned in pleasure, but it was my grunts and shrieks of pain that seemed to thrill them more. My wails sent them over the edge, and they sprayed their loads all across my face and chest.

Of all the videos out there, the dog scene and the ear cum scene garnered the most views… by far. The comments left under them about me were so vile. Some said that they should have done both my ears. One said it would have been hot if they had held down my head and tried to ejaculate up my nose. Not a fantasy that I would have thought anyone would ever imagine.

As the weeks rolled by, I began to get unwanted attention at work. I had (still have) a part time job at a large, well known hardware store. It started with a sense that I was getting side glances and stares. InitialIy I told myself that I was just being paranoid, that it was all in my head. However I couldn't shake it, the feeling came more and more frequently. It wasn't all the time, but it was often enough to make me dread going into work.

Eventually there was no denying it. It became evident to me when I heard a guy emit a series of coyote howls at the end of the aisle I was in. He looked directly at me as he did it. Another time, a guy passed me while I was restocking a shelf and whispered “Good Doggy. Doggy want a boner?” Dog sounds weren’t uncommon in my vicinity, (Arf, arf. Woof, woof) followed by snickering. Again, it wasn’t that often, yet it was, and it filled me with shame and embarrassment. I'm pretty reserved by nature, so my response was to hang my head and look away.

Our store also sells pet food. A 50ish dude came up to me and asked where it was located. Per our store policy, I couldn't just tell him the aisle number. I had to walk him there. When we got there, he had a look of confusion on his face. He asked me which one he should get. I replied something to the effect that I didn't know. I assumed that they were all pretty much the same. The ballsy guy looked me straight in the eye and said: “Well which one do you like to eat? I heard you liked being a dog in your spare time.” He said he was looking for a well behaved dog…if I’m interested. Then he shoved a paper with a phone number in my shirt pocket. “Call me, Fido,” he grinned and walked away.

“FUCK!!” I said to myself.

I could go on and on. I became suspicious when guys approached me with questions. One stopped me and said he needed to use the restroom, he asked where it was. I pointed to the front of the store…. behind where the self check-out registers were. He took a few steps and then turned back toward me. He tilted his head to the side several times… beckoning me to go with him. He grabbed his crotch. I shook my head no. He whispered “Don’t be coy, boy. I know you crave cock. Just drop your pants and I'll be quick.” I shook my head again and walked away. It ruined my day.

Quitting wasn't an option because it wasn't just limited to the store. I could have these encounters anywhere around town. Additionally, I didn't have the means to move. It wouldn't have solved anything anyway, I was all over the internet, it wouldn't have made a difference.

*********

I am loath to admit this, but as the weeks wore on I found myself rewatching the videos. It would depress me to see myself degraded and humiliated, but yet something inside me compelled me to keep watching. What was worse was that I started to get excited as I viewed each scene. I got aroused listening to them call me names… pathetic, dirty, worthless, trash, slut. Those words made my dick harden. I began to jack off while I witnessed myself being molested and thrown around. Instead of my laptop, I switched to viewing them on my TV, the big screen. Sometimes I would talk back, yelling at the men to fuck me harder….to shove it in deeper. Make me cry!

I told my video self that I was repugnant, vile, detestable… all the while stroking my rod faster as I watched myself get slammed and passed around. My hole would twitch, and sometimes I dildoed myself too. And how I hated myself for enjoying it so very much.

A card arrived in the mail the other day. It was an invitation to a party… from Matt. No special reason, it was just a ‘casual affair’. He included a personalized note: “Think of you often. Be great to see you again. Everyone is asking after you”. A winky face was drawn in. The card stated the usual - date, time, and address. Next to the word attire: ‘casual’ was crossed out and… ‘a jockstrap would be cool’ was penned in. He included a small zip tie and a crisp $100 bill. Another scribbled note hinted that more incentives might be waiting for me there. I felt not only anger and shame as I read it, but a little excitement too. I hate myself for thinking it, but I just might go.

Report
What did you think of this story?
Share Story

In This Story