Men Embrace Independent Lifestyles in Part 3
I constantly reattended gatherings.
There was an individual in these gatherings who seldom looked at me and never spoke to me. Initially, he had been cold even at the initial meeting; however, after weeks of my presence, he turned out to be quite frosty. It seemed to me that he was dissatisfied by my mere existence.
Unfortunately, he was my type: tall, muscular, good-looking, and rugged; he might not be too bright, but that didn't matter to me. He was the type of guy who would usually make me weak at the knees. But he clearly disliked me.
His name was Ron. He sat opposite me throughout the gathering, occasionally glancing in my direction and making audible sounds of displeasure whenever I spoke. Fate had it that, that evening, I was fed up with the general incompetence of the entire group. I became annoyed by their fixation on women, whereas the whole purpose was to be going one's own way.
Finally, Ron had had enough. He interrupted me.
"What would you know about women?" He mocked. "You're a faggot."
"Now, Ron," Phil cautioned.
"No, Phil, no, I've had enough," Ron retorted. "This was meant to be a men's gathering, where we could go our own way. But this queer keeps showing up as if he belongs here. We shouldn't listen to the opinion of someone who prefers dick to pussy?"
"I identified myself as bisexual," I said.
"There's no such thing," Ron claimed.
"There is," I responded.
"It's impossible," Ron insisted. "You can't possibly like women and men equally."
"I never claimed to like them equally," I explained.
"So you are a queer?"
"I'm drawn to men," I said, 'but I wouldn't want to date one."
"Why not?" asked Ron, pretending to be distressed.
"Well," I said, "would you?"
"No," he angrily shouted, "because I'm not a fucking faggot. I don't want some other guy shoving his dick up my ass."
"I think I understand more than you what it's like to have a guy's dick inside me," I taunted.
"Well," Ron said, "I don't give a fuck what it's like to have a man's dick inside you. I insert my dick where I choose, and I don't give a shit."
"Guys," Phil interjected, "this conversation is getting confrontational."
"I don't care," Ron grumbled. "I'm fed up with this effeminate little girl talking about women."
"I learned everything I know about women from sucking your mom's pussy," I said.
"You fucking little cunt!" Ron erupted.
"Enough!" Phil exclaimed, visibly annoyed.
There was a pause. Phil was a nice-natured individual, a bit foolish, but he hated it when people made a scene. I knew I had gone overboard.
"I'm going to ask you both to leave," he said, "and you can return at the next meeting, when you've both cooled down."
"I'm calm," I said, which was almost entirely accurate.
"Notwithstanding," he stated, "we can't have our meetings collapsing like this. Out, please."
I stood up and grabbed my coat while bowing sarcastically. Ron, still enraged, left the building. I strolled out with a nod to Phil.
Outside, Ron reappeared from the shadows.
"Well, you undermined the meeting," he said. "Congratulations. I hope you're proud."
"I'm only guilty of insulting you," I stated.
"Because I'm a faggot," he screeched.
"Well, fuck you. That's not how I grasp you at all," I said.
"You're a frail little faggot boy who thinks he's female," Ron declared.
"Hey, fuck off, man, take it easy," I urged.
"No," he said. "I'll educate you on some manners."
"I'm returning home."
I started to walk away.
"You think I'm unaware of your activities in this group?" Ron accused. "Oh, I know. You've been giving blowjobs to all the beta males, like the whore you are."
"Did your mom teach you that vocabulary?"
"You show up in these gatherings," he continued half to himself, "you shove your 'sexuality' at us, and you imagine we'll simply welcome it? Who do you believe you are?"
I confessed, "I'm bi," and proceeded to walk in the opposite direction of my flat to tire him out. I was en route to the city's border, where it merged with the wooded hills.
"Bi doesn't exist," he reacted.
"Why are you so mad about it? Why can't you comprehend that some people find both men and women appealing?" I questioned.
"Because it makes zero sense!" Ron declared. "You can't like both!"
"Well, consider this."
"That's insane! You can't give yourself to a guy and have a woman give herself to you! It's cheating!"
"It's nature."
We had left the main road and now walked along a park path lined with trees.
"Unnatural!"
"Numerous creatures form same-sex couples," I retorted.
"Then you're just an animal," he ascertained.
"Just, fuck off, okay?" I said, growing agitated.
He pushed me. I tripped and fell back.
"Don't tell me what to do," he sneered.
"But I am…." I said before being shoved again, this time slapping him hard across the face.
He stared at me in utter disbelief.
Soon, we engaged in a violent struggle—both being novices in combat, we threw non-lethal punches, but the occasional blow to the face stung and enraged us more. Then, we wrestled, each attempting to toss the other, and I almost surrendered and sprinted towards home.
Fed up, Ron took a step forward, looming over me.
However, he suddenly paused, his gaze fixated on me with a distant expression.
"Quit," I rasped, my lip swollen and bleeding, incensed at his rhetoric.
And suddenly, he lunged forward and embraced me, then passionately kissed me.
Stunned, I remained motionless for a moment.
Before long, I wrapped my arms around him and probed his mouth with my tongue.
The intensity of the physical encounter had cleared my mind; I wanted nothing more than for him to envelope me in his arms and claim me.
He drew back for a moment and reached out towards me.
"I need you," he panted in a rattling voice.
"I want you," I whispered.
Thus, my jacket came off, and he ripped my shirt and t-shirt, pulled down my jeans, and kicked off my shoes. My boxers joined the pile, leaving me naked and shivering on the grassy pathway amidst the trees.
Finally, he caressed his spittle-lubricated fingers up and down my buttocks and drove inside me. Despite being rough with his lineless, I held on for dear life. Sprinting in fear momentarily crossed my mind, but the thought of a naked man forcefully penetrating me in a public park passed so quickly, I barely registered it.
"Oh my god," I shuddered, as Ron shot his load inside my ass.
But before I could even catch my breathe, I forced my arousal and released my seed onto the tree trunk.
There we were, panting and stunned, leaning against the tree, when we suddenly heard footsteps. He pulled away immediately. My screams of pleasure were muffled due to the sudden barrage of fear.
Then, we were back to reality, looking at each other, ashamed of what happened, yet wishing just for this unplanned encounter.
"Someone's coming," he hissed, readying to flee.
He pulled me away from him and reached inside me, taking out my boxers and socks. I quickly put them on, and within fifteen seconds, I was down on the ground tying my shoelaces. Even though my clothes were wet and dirty, and my anus was still tingling, I got up.
Ron poked me and we started walking.
"I think we're in a decent position," he said calmly. "It all comes down to the guys in Antwerp."
"Yeah," I replied. A woman with a small dog walked around the corner and we went around her, joking about non-existent jobs. When we saw that she was gone, Ron stopped and turned to me.
"Thanks," he said, his gaze on me uncertainly. I'd never seen that expression on a man's face before - a combination of shame and appreciation.
"All that 'gay' stuff... was that just, like, foreplay?" I asked.
He stared at the ground before looking back at me.
"I don't know," he said. "I wanted you, but..."
"You had to be mean about it."
"I apologize."
"It's fine," I said, thinking about how enjoyable our quick, passionate encounter had been. The idea of being stripped naked and taken against a tree by this strong, muscular man made me feel excited and scared simultaneously.
He looked at me hopefully.
"Just...please don't do it again," I said. "Just be yourself."
He nodded. We stood in silence for a moment.
"Give me your number," I said. "If you want to talk about things, you can talk to me. Just don't talk about guys like me badly."
He nodded and gave me a phone number. I put it in my phone.
Then we looked at each other, and I was surprised when he hugged me.
"You're a good person," he said.
"Thanks," I said. I decided not to return the compliment because he wasn't yet.
We pulled away from each other.
"Goodbye," he said, and walked off.
I turned and headed home.
***
After that, I stopped participating in the MGTOW group.
I thought I was done with it.
But there's more to come.
I went on the dating apps, and I met a guy around sixty years old. He was a grey-haired, muscular guy who could turn me on just by looking at him.
"What are you interested in?" he typed.
"A little of this and that," I replied. "I like receiving anal. I like a bit of BDSM now and then."
"Mmmm."
"I like to be restricted. I like being pushed to my limits."
"I can do that for you."
"Really?"
"Yes."
***
We arranged to meet.
He gave me clear instructions beforehand. I needed to lose five pounds so I'd look slender enough, he said. I needed to shave my body hair, including the area around my genitals and anus. I had to be clean both inside and out. And I was required to sign a consent form, in case he wanted to post videos of me online - though my identity would remain obscured.
I agreed to all these conditions, after he sent me links to his videos from his dungeon. These showed people with their faces exposed, but not clearly enough to identify them, all while wearing black sleep masks.
I turned up at his house at 6pm. He stood at the door, wearing a t-shirt and running shorts.
"Are you ready for a workout?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said, fidgeting. "Am I?"
"Don't worry," he said. "All the rules will apply."
The truth was that I'd never really experienced BDSM beyond a bit of blindfolding and spanking. I was quite nervous. But we set a safeword - "orange" - which seemed unlikely to come up during arousal.
He led me down to his basement, into the dungeon.
It was cozy but not overheated, with various pieces of equipment that I couldn't immediately identify. There was also a door to another room, which he didn't touch.
"Alright," he said softly, putting his hands on my face and kissing me hard.
I let out a small sigh and parted my lips, and he pushed his tongue inside me. He was already claiming dominance over me.
I didn't try to touch him. I felt he didn't want me to, not yet.
To my surprise, he stepped back and removed his shirt and shorts. He was naked, I was fully dressed.
He had the longest penis I had ever seen. I stared at it.
It was a display of power: he could remove his clothes at this stage because he knew I couldn't touch him. He smiled at me and grabbed me and kissed me again, rubbing his penis against my groin.
Then he removed my t-shirt and I raised my hands and he took it off me. Then he untied my sneakers and took them out with my socks, then he opened my jeans and took them off. I stepped out of them.
He stood up and went behind me, and then I felt him grab my wrists and pull them behind me. The handcuffs went on.
I was completely exposed. He came around me again and examined me, then twisted one of my nipples, hard. I moaned.
He twisted both of them. I gasped in pain. I don't like having my nipples twisted, it does nothing for me sexually, but it definitely established the power balance.
'Do you like that?' he asked.
'No,' I replied, panting.
'Would you like me to stop?'
'Yes.'
'Does it matter if I don't?'
'No.'
I glanced at him as he stood in front of me, examining me, and then he seemed to decide it was time to move on, because he leaned over, picked up his shorts and put them back on. Then he went behind me again.
And this time, I felt the thick cloth hood cover my forehead and slowly come down over my eyes, forcing them shut. I let out a quiet moan.
'I'm turning on the camera now,' he said, 'is that fine?'
'I can't stop you,' I said, tense.
There was a pause. Then he slapped me on the bottom through the fabric of my underwear. I moaned.
He did it again. And again. Then again. It stung. But I stood there and endured it.
Then he pulled my underwear down at the back, exposing my buttocks, and did it again, harder. This time, it really hurt, plus he was also claiming more ownership of me by exposing me.
He grabbed my shoulders and turned me around, showing the camera all sides of me. My genitals were still covered, but not for long.
'You know everyone can see you,' he said.
'Yes...'
'Everyone can see the slave in the dungeon with his master, ready to be used. Do you want to be used?'
'Yes...'
There was a pause, and then I felt something sharp and metal gently press against my skin.
I recognized it as a knife, although from the way the pain disappeared as soon as he took it away I could tell it was a rather blunt one, unable to easily pierce my skin.
Still, I stood there trembling slightly for a few moments as he jabbed my body with it: my stomach, my chest, my shoulders, my neck, my thighs, my buttocks. It was a show of power. If I moved or jerked, I could get cut. It sent shivers through me.
'Stripping you is what people want to see,' he said. 'Is that what you want them to see?'
'Uh...' I moaned, 'no... please...'
'You realize you can't stop me from undressing you? If you become naked, we will have to go a lot further?'
'Please, no,' I quivered.
'I don't think you have a choice,' he said, and he firmly pulled my underwear off me and down my legs, so that I was finally naked. He took them away from my feet.
I stood there, blindfolded and handcuffed, and breathed steadily, waiting for his next move.
He uncuffed my hands but then raised them up and I felt them being cuffed again to a rope hanging from the ceiling.
'Oh, god...' I muttered.
'Now you need more pain, I think,' he said, and I felt the first lash of the whip.
It wasn't really very painful, just a slight sting, but being naked, blindfolded, and hanging helplessly from a rope while an older man whipped my rear end and belly and joins was humiliating. The groin area especially hurt, and I would make soft whimpers and twist on my rope with each strike there.
After a while, my body was on fire and I was covered in sweat. He stopped whipping me and I hung there, blind, breathing heavily.
And then the cold water hit me: he must have kicked a bucket at me.
It wasn't icy cold, but the shock still took my breath away, and I made shaky moans as I flailed on the rope.
Once his hands were caressing me, deep within cushioned, heated gloves, massaging me, drying me. My sparkling physique was solaced and emitted a moan.
There was an interruption, and then I encountered the sting of the whip on my undressed rear again, and I moaned.
We continued this sequence a couple of times, until I was pleading for him to lower me. He freed my wrists from the cords and I heaved a relief.
He took hold of my arm and guided me across the space.
'I won't allow you to hurt yourself, don't fright,' he said.
'Merci,' I gasped.
'Halt,' he said. 'Stand there.'
He released me, and I stood up, slightly aching, feeling exceedingly alive.
'Place your hands out,' he said, 'and slant forward slightly.'
I executed this, and I touched what appeared to be a leather-coated cushioned bench.
'Climb atop,' he said. 'Placed towards your left.'
I carefully explored it until I comprehended where it was, then I raised my leg and seated myself atop it.
It was indeed a form of bench, and he took my hands and immobilized them individually to metallic handles, attaching my arms aloft and to either facet. Then he yanked my ankles and fastened each foot to metallic handles behind me. I was soundly fastened atop the padded bench. I was imprisoned, shackled atop my stomach and on top padded bench. I couldn't distinguish anything and I couldn't move. He maneuvered me and my manhood and bollocks fell into a hell within the bench so that they suspended underneath it.
'What's next,' he said, 'your reward.'
'What will you complete to me,' I said, dry-mouthed.
'Doth thou thirst?'
'Yes.'
Fluid was squirted into my mouth and I suppressed ardently.
'I presume you're aware,' came his voice.
Then I sensed a buzz, and the whirr of a motor.
'Oh god,' I groaned.
I felt him smearing lubricant over my anus, and then the least bit of it within me. I gasped.
I had never endured a fucking machine prior. I sensed a burst of anxiety. I anticipated he knew what he was undertaking.
I sensed the slick rubbery top of the dildo nudging me, and I winced. It was puncturing my anus almost charmingly. Luckily it wasn't moving backwards too much, or too briskly.
He maneuvered my hips to be at the correct degree, and then he stopped the device and escalated it thus that it was forced against my anal opening. Then he turned it on again.
The consistent hassling of it on my anus shortly became my only cognizance. I was imprisoned and sightless and whimpering, and I was about to be raped through the ass by a machine.
Slowly, its entry pressed at my anal muscle, and I labored to relax, and then it was going in and out, in and out, while I was forced to settle there and acknowledge it. I apprehended that he was seeing this, and additionally his camera, savoring the sight of the young naked man on the bench, screwing helplessly as he was butt-fucked relentlessly by a dildo on a mechanized piston.
There was naught I could do. I apprehended that people would be viewing myself and administering their wangles at the sight of me immobilized and sightless and sodomized, and the more I pondered on the idea of people being aroused by observing me incapable and sightless and anal-raped, the plus aroused I got.
My penis was erect below me and I had forestalled any comprehension that I was whimpering needlessly. I was only a piece of flesh on a shelf, undergoing sodomization repeatedly by a machine that didn't possess a clue I was alive.
I minimally apprehended the panting of my master as I lay there, disoriented from the relentless sodomizing I was undertreated to, but then I felt his jism spout on my facial area and across my lips.
And I submitted fully, and even without the necessity of the touch of myself, I felt my private orgasm inflate in my waist and then spew upward through me, and I moaned.
... Although the machine didn't cease.
I was dazed and incredulous, but I learned that he had no intention of allowing me free merely with one climax.
I lay there, my frame shaking, perspiration trickling from me, as I was buggered over and over by a machine that didn't attend to whether or not I was a sentient creature, the camera capturing my complete nudity as I lay there, staunch and paralyzed, moaning irrationally as my master administered the machine to me.
As my thoughts drifted, I vividly imagined the view from the video: my naked body, secured, my limbs spread out, half my face hidden behind a massive black mask, my mouth gaping as my body thrusted and thrashed from the unyielding machine that relentlessly pounded me.
My mental image brought me back to the memory of being a powerless, bare-naked, and humiliated plaything, offering ultimate pleasure for others' sexual gratification. The idea of people delighting in my naked, vulnerable, and violated condition filled me with arousal once more, causing me to lose control, and eventually climaxing uncontrollably a second time.
While still half-conscious and with me firmly in the grip of immobility, the machine ceased its motion. All that was left was to sit upright on the bench. Then he led me out, assuring me that he would soon put some clothes on me.
Upon arriving in a different space, I realized it was a shower room. Suffixing from fatigue and the flush of sexual excitement, I discovered I'd been blindfolded the entire time, and I found myself in a stupor, my breath coming in uneven gasps. He unlatched my arm from his shoulder, patted me on the back and instructed me to cleanse myself. Then he left.
Dazed and in dire need of hydration and nourishment, I stepped into the shower. Beneath the waterfall, I washed away the sweat and secretions from my body, then continued to stand, letting the water soothe my tired body for a few moments. Despite the incredible act of sexual assembly I'd endured, I felt my libido elicit a decent response.
My half-hard penis twitched once again, reminding me of the witnesses who'd be witnessing my jubilant state. I managed to get myself towel-dried and dressed, and ventured out of the shower room.
The previously mysterious and alluring dungeon was now under fully-lit conditions, making it appear more like a person's personal basement gym. The illusion was shattered.
I ascended the stairs leading out of the dungeon, amazed that we'd spent mere moments in there. I towered over him, checking my watch and finding it to be around eight o'clock.
Merely moments after my release, he walked into the hallway from the kitchen, where he met me. He seemed satisfied with the evening's proceedings and inquired about my experience.
"You sure succeeded," I replied. "You can send me that link."
A brief interlude followed, notably lacking in farewell gestures.
"Okay. Bye." I joined him at the door and left.
Upon watching the video, I recognized my body, but he had been cautious enough to obscure visual recognition to those who hadn't witnessed my nudity.
I reached the end of my work with this group.
***
On the typical day in the group, the banter devolved into insults about women, but occasionally, they'd address me for somehow "betraying" their plan of male liberation by sleeping with men.
I didn't care about their criticisms. The frequent, fervent experiences we shared had lost their appeal. I pondered how my life could benefit from fresher social experiences.
Amongst them, only Jonathan had satisfied me when he commanded me to play nurse, blindfolds me, and then fucked me in the shower.
Richard had scared me, leaving me feeling both elated and afraid. Daniel jettisoned his load on my face. Pete gained his gratification and raced away. Bryan, the creep, saw me as a tool for his sexual urgency, only to shift blame unto me. The youngster by the sea nearly assaulted me. Malcolm, my previous lover, mistreated me.
Ron, though, had discovered what he truly wanted guided by me.
As I studied their increasingly tense conversations about the polarizing perspectives on women, I perceived their genuine interest in a "willing hole to fuck."
Eventually, Bryan pointed out, "You're awfully quiet."
"Huh?"
Silence enveloped the room, following my response.
"You're awfully quiet."
Suddenly, I felt an uncontrollable listlessness.
"Yeah, man." I replied. "Dude, I won't be attending any more meetings."
"Is that how it is?" Daniel asked, glaring at me.
"I don't think this type of thing is good for me." I said. "It's not necessarily good for any of you, but it's definitely not good for me."
"So you took what you wanted from us, and now you're done?" Pete questioned.
"I didn't take anything from anyone in this room that they didn't want to give me." I clarified.
"That's all you do!" Bryan exclaimed. "You just take, take, take. You never gave anything in return."
I frowned at him.
"I never said I wasn't gay." I retorted. "But you guys didn't invite me here to sleep with you. You did."
"And you never took the hint," another person said, "that maybe you should have been a bit more generous?"
"What do you mean?"
"We mean," Bryan elaborated, "that we're really tired of you not sharing."
I eyed all of them, noticing that they were all looking at me. Their expressions weren't all smiles, but they had the same thing in their eyes.
Hunger.
They wanted me.
I turned to Phil, to let him know that I was going to leave, but I stopped as I noticed the same look in his eyes too.
"What is this?" I asked, feeling my stomach churn.
"You need to come with us." Phil said.
I grabbed my bag and stood up.
"Okay." I said. "See you."
Phil grabbed my wrist, and I attempted to pull it away, but someone else quickly grabbed my arm.
"What is this?"
"We thought you might want to leave." Bryan explained, "and we can't let you go without a proper farewell."
"Please don't touch me." I demanded, my mouth dry. I jammed my hands in my pockets.
"We're going to do more than just touch you!" Bryan insisted.
"Get the hell off me." I commanded, growing more distressed as they approached me.
"Don't make it difficult." Pete requested.
"Don't do this." I pleaded. "Please."
"It's already happened." Phil stated, and they placed a bag over my head. I could still hear their voices, muffled through the fabric. It was tightened around my mouth with some cloth. Then they started dragging me across the room.
***
I was blinded and muffled, but I knew I was in some kind of vehicle. I was lying on the floor, with my wrists tied behind me. My feet were free, and I could hear the men chatting and laughing behind me.
We drove for about half an hour, and then the engine started to roar as it sped up. In the distance, it got louder and louder, and I realized we were near the airport.
Once we stopped, they pulled the bag off my head and the cloth from my mouth. I was blindfolded with a piece of cloth, after which they took me out of the car and dragged me across a rough surface. I could hear the sound of an airplane getting louder and louder, and then realized we must be in a building.
"No, please, stop!" I begged them, blinking as I struggled to see. But the blurred faces didn't seem to notice. They just carried on, forcing me across the floor.
The roar of the airplane faded, but got louder again. We must have been indoors. My jacket, shirt, shoes, and socks had all been removed, and I was lying face down on a mattress.
"You'd better not fuck this up," warned a man's voice. The man behind me pushed me forward, and I landed on the mattress, supporting myself with my hands. The sound of a zip being lowered, and a cock entering my mouth filled the room.
I had to play along. If I fought them, I wasn't sure what they would do. I tried my best to convince my body that I had willingly participated in this, like I was in some porn film. The thought crossed my mind that they might be videoing this. A bunch of men, going their own way by sending a gay guy to be the star of a group sex scene.
The man in my mouth removed himself and I groaned, "Oh fuck, you're raping me. You're raping me!"
Silence.
Through the blurriness, I perceived Bryan's voice, "Shut up. You're just a slut. You have no idea what real sex is."
"Why are you doing this?" I implored. "Phil, please..."
"Don't use any of our names." Phil snapped. "Don't use any of our names."
"Ugh, I couldn't breathe as the guy thrusting into me sped up," I panted.
"Cos then we've gotta edit the video," Pete explained.
"Pete, you're a nice fella, just... aw man... just fess up you're gay, and... oh my God, fuck," I groaned.
"No real names, he said!" Bryan interjected, and I felt a slap across my face.
"Fuck you, Bryan!" I gasped back.
"Alright," Bryan replied, then another dick slid into my mouth and I gagged.
Bryan was more careful after that, not wanting me to vomit on him. He made me take him, but when the guy behind me pulled out before climaxing, Bryan pulled out from my mouth, too. I felt him moving around behind me, then pushed his penis inside my butt.
I howled again, and cried plaintively, "Oh no! Please!"
"Act like a man," Bryan suggested, chuckling amidst the others.
"You gotta let me go!"
"Sure, we will, but first..." they said in unison, "We're gonna soak that pretty face of yours in cum."
I begged, "Oh please..."
Bryan's cock was working its magic on me. My eyelids were closed, my mouth was hanging open, and even my own penis was hard.
"How many more of you," I gasped.
"Nine left," someone disclosed, before being hushed.
Truthfully, the following period felt like a blur as Bryan achieved his goal and exited my behind, and then a different cock entered me, degrading me, and then another, and then another. Before long, I was coated in sweat, and exhausted.
Someone handed me water and I drank gratefully, then the cock inside my anus was taken away and I was flipped onto my back.
A butt lowered over my eyes, still in jeans, and a cock went into my mouth. My legs were lifted up and pushed back, and another guy penetrated me. I was immobilized: exposed, blindfolded, gagged with a son, and being vigorously fucked with another phallus. I could only make muffled, incomprehensible moans. I had surrendered completely to my role as a victim.
And then, cruelly, as I lay on my back with one guy fucking my mouth and another up my behind, I felt a hand grasp my erection and stroke it. They were going to make me climax so I couldn't even enjoy the aftermath.
I shook my head no and tried to beg, but it came out as "MMMM! MMMMM! MMMMM!" and I couldn't stop the cock in my rectum from ejaculating. After only a few minutes, I spurted semen across my bare stomach.
This seemed to excite them more, so they next flipped me onto all fours, and, in turn, one, two, three more men were inside me and out.
Exhausted, shaking, weak, I was whimpering AS A NEW ASS PENETRATED MY RECTUM. I heard the men yelling at each other in spite.
I imagined what they were doing. They were standing in a half-circle in front of me, jerking off. The guy behind me was kneeling, holding my hips and raping me violently.
I made higher and higher-pitched whimpers, trying to sound more feminine, and shut my eyes tightly behind the blindfold.
"AAAHH! AAAHH! AAAHH!" I whined, and the men shouted at each other.
And then, suddenly, the blindfold was ripped off, and the first shots of semen sprayed over my face.
All at once, they all seemed to climax at the same time. I felt wave after wave of warm liquid splash over my visage and I couldn't stop some of it from sliding into my mouth. All I could do was remain still, on all fours, submitting to their come, short of breath, my chest heaving, as they came on my face.
Another man withdrew, and I was left alone, still on all fours, naked and coated in their semen.
I didn't dare move. I sensed that they didn't want me to.
I stayed there, listening to the silence.
Then, slowly, I stood up until I was kneeling, and I reached up and wiped my face.
I opened my eyes and saw an empty warehouse. I heard a distant plane landing.
I crouched down and wiped my face on the made-up bed. Then I got back up and surveyed my surroundings.
I was freezing and unclothed. The floor was not too filthy, so I stamped my way towards a door that opened when I approached it. As I entered a hallway, a sensor activated the lights.
I sauntered down the corridor and stopped at a door with the word "LADIES" written on it.
I went inside, and once more, the illumination turned on. I passed a mirror to check myself out.
My body was bare, grimy, caked in discharge, my knees were red, and my bottom was also red from being hit. The bags under my eyes were black, and my complexion was also tinted red. I reviewed my reflection again. I turned and checked the sink. I mentally deliberated for a short time.
I retreated into the warehouse and headed towards the mattress.
I picked up some of the semen I'd spread on it and applied it generously to my face. I made sure to get as much as I could.
Then I moved towards where my clothes were strewn on the ground.
I snuck a finger inside my pocket and fetched my phone.
As soon as Voice Memo was up, it had been recording for almost an hour-and-a-half. I tapped the "Stop" button and then the "Play" button.
Although the voices were a bit muffled, they were still discernible.
"We're going to do a lot more than just touch you."
"Get the hell off me!"
"Stop making it hard."
"Do not do this! Please!"
I listened thoroughly, ensuring I captured the entire incident, and then I slowly put my clothes on.
I limped out into the darkness and dialed 911.
***
'Is that the conclusion of your declaration?'
'Yes.'
The female officer nodded and jotted it down on her laptop.
'Alright,' she said, using my name. 'I assume we have everything we need from serious crimes.'
'Yes.'
'Alright. Do you have any other issues?'
'No.'
'Okay. Would you want any assistance getting home?'
'No, I'm capable of managing. I'm also looking for a shower - is that too much?'
'Yes, you're fine. Just take care.'
'Thank you.'
She stood up, and so did I.
'Best of luck,' she said tentatively.
'And to you too,' I replied, smiling in response.
I freed myself.
