by Isaac Byrne
“Not as lucky as me,” Pot-shirt commented lamely, flashing a sycophantic smile towards his own girlfriend; even Angela rolled her eyes.
“Well sure, this girl ain’t got Ang’s wonder-titties, does she,” Beanie joked. “Still, she got the best ass I ever seen.”
Jesus Christ, these pricks are already talking about me like I’m not standing right here. “Aww, you’re so sweet. And yeah, I was thinking maybe someday I’d get bigger tits, maybe as big as yours,” she said, admiring them plainly.
“They’re a pain, trust me,” Angela retorted as Cindy began stripping off the nightie, satisfied that it had received male approval for Eric. A moment later, she was naked again.
“I bet they look awesome though,” Cindy said jealously. “Mine are so darn little that it’s hard for me to get boys to notice me sometimes.”
The irony was evidently lost on them, as all four openly leered at her as she proceeded to try on the mesh teddy, which met with equal approbation. Angela was openly humping her ass against Pot-shirt’s groin now, though her eyes never left Cindy’s body. For her part, whatever her voice was gushing on about how much she liked the sight of big tits, Cindy was purely heterosexual. Not that she had any problem with lesbians; she had just never felt a spark of attraction in that way.
Angela, it seemed, felt otherwise.
She didn’t make her move, though, until Cindy had the red see-through bra and panties on. This one was worse than being naked – it was just there to take her nudity and form it into something even sexier, and with the lack of crotch-covering, she could be fucked just as easily with it on as off. She verbalized her reason for purchasing it in exactly that way, not even batting an eyelash at describing herself as, essentially, a toy to be dressed, undressed and fucked at will.
“Well thanks you guys, I feel a lot better about this now.” She unclasped the bra and slid it off.
“Aw shit, that’s it?” Beanie groaned, and Cindy nodded empathetically, as if to apologize for not giving him a more prolonged show.
Dreadlocks grinned in a way he probably thought was charming. “Say, I don’t suppose your boyfriend’s the sharing type, is he?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, but he’d be upset if I went around fucking every guy who saw me naked.” UGH, what a fucking SLUT I sound like. Am. Still, at least Eric’s not going to have me get gang-banged.
Then Angela came at her, flashing a sultry smile. “I’m sure he won’t mind this,” she said, and took one of Cindy’s nipples in her mouth.
EW. Oh fuck EW. There’s a girl sucking on my fucking nipple! Gross! And there’s three pervs watching! Damnit, legs, why won’t you run!
Instead, one of her legs snaked around one of Angela’s to keep her close and moaned happily. “Yeah, I guess he’d be OK with me being with another girl,” she reasoned aloud. She let Angela lick and suck on her diamond-hard nipples for a while before she spoke up shyly. “Say, could I see yours?”
Angela looked around at the guys for a moment. Dreadlocks had his cock out and was unabashedly masturbating; Beanie had his hand down his pants for the same cause but with a slight bit more subtlety. Her boyfriend Pot-shirt was just staring enviously. Angela looked at him as she answered Cindy. “I tell you what. He’s always pestering me to suck him off, ten times a fucking day. You take care of him for me, and I’ll show you anything you want.”
Cindy delightedly agreed; evidently blowing strangers wouldn’t bother the Eric her body was envisioning. And I guess sucking cock is preferable to lezzing out. She squatted in front of Pot-shirt and undid his pants, his erect cock springing out in her face as his underwear followed. She took it into her mouth zealously and started swirling her tongue around it, bobbing her head in a fast rhythm.
Then she felt Angela’s arm wrap around her waist while her other hands planted on the back of her head. The stoner girl pulled up on her waist and pushed down on her head, ending in Cindy continuing the blowjob from a standing position, bent at the mid-section and doing most of the work with her abs. God damnit, this is not why I do 200 crunches every day! Luckily, her trampy little body was a gifted cock-sucker (big shock there ) and gauging from his ragged breathing and periodic twitching in her mouth, he was near to cumming in minutes.
Then Angela’s tongue thrust into her pussy.
So intent had Cindy been in her blowjob that she hadn’t even noticed her legs being spread, or Angela getting on the floor beneath her. Two fingers then lunged into her dripping wet sex and started pumping. She squealed and moaned around Pot-shirt’s cock, but her technique was shot. Angela had nothing on Eric when it came to reducing her to a quivering, shrieking, cumming slut, but she knew her way around a cunt and Cindy was at her mercy. Pot-shirt’s attention shifted from the divine sensations of her mouth to the sight of his girlfriend eating this bitch out, and seemed to regain a bit of his stamina. Meanwhile, Angela’s pinky shot right up Cindy’s ass and joined the pumping frenzy, ruining her cock-sucking skills even further.
Angela was a giver though, and let Cindy cum twice before she withdrew. Of course, little did Cindy know that the main reason she did so was because her friends were signaling their readiness to cum, and so shortly after Angela’s withdrawal she felt twin bursts of hot ropy cum blast all over her ass. When had Angela gotten my panties off? At least now I don’t have to try to exchange them for a clean pair. A moment later, Pot-shirt was filling her mouth – clearly Angela was not doing this very often, as she had to rush to swallow before it overflowed and leaked down her chin.
She stood, smiling, panting, boy-cum dripping down the backs of her legs and girl-cum down the middle. Then a pair of feminine hands spun her around and before she could resist she was kissing Angela, sharing the remains of her boyfriend’s cum, their tongues intertwining. True to her word, the busty girl had taken her shirt off and she could feel two enormous boobs pressing against her chest. Cindy, now mercifully deprived of her gag reflex as she was deprived of all bodily functions, bent down and took one of the weighty tits into her mouth, licking and sucking and nuzzling on it like it was an experience she’d dreamed of since puberty.
“Eat me, slut,” Angela hissed at her between moans, and shoved Cindy roughly down to her knees.
“Mmm, I thought you’d never ask,” she breathed as she dove into her first ever pussy. In the past few days fucking and sucking Eric, she’d had ample opportunity to learn what her own pussy juice tasted like; Angela’s was different in a way she lacked adjectives to name, and of course, since she’d never wanted to do such a thing, infinitely worse.
The boys cheered her on, though. “Aw yeah, little slut sure likes the taste of you, Ang!”
“Don’t forget to breath, babe!” Laughter.
Pot-shirt’s hands on her tits, pinching hard on her nipples. “Make her cum like she did you, understand?” Cindy tried to nod without ruining her rhythm. “Good girl.”
Once Angela had gotten off – during which two of the three boys (she was unsure which) had managed to get hard again, and once more unload their jizz on Cindy – they didn’t even say goodbye as they walked off. Beanie and Dreadlocks both cupped her ass possessively, and Pot-shirt and Angela walked out hand in hand. What a perfect couple of assholes.
Cindy spent a few minutes cleaning herself off with paper towels, and was most of the way dressed before someone came in now that the door was open again. She was topless, but just giggled apologetically and finished dressing as if it were just a minor embarrassment. She was dressed, and marveled that the slutty schoolgirl outfit suddenly could feel so concealing. She stepped out of the restroom and checked her purse for her next errand. The third to-do post-it read, “you have ten seconds – be yourself.”
Cindy screamed. It was a primal howl of shame and rage and pent-up frustration that echoed up and down the corridors of the mall.
When her lungs emptied, her face put on a smile and strode on out of the restroom hallway. A mall cop was already running in her direction, and stopped
in front of her as it was evident she’d been the only woman down there. “Ma’am,” he said, winded, “are you all right?”
“Oh, I’m fine! I just stubbed my toe really bad,” she lied, then lifted her leg up and wiggled her toes as if he could see the injury through her shoe. Really, he just saw her bare leg exposed and an invitation to stare at it.
“Try to keep it under control there, ma’am. You scared the hell out of me – I thought someone was being raped or killed back there.” He scowled.
Someone basically was, Paul Blart! Where were your crack detective skills when there was the sound of people fucking in the men’s room? “Sorry, officer, I promise I won’t do it again.” He nodded to her, then turned and walked away.
The fourth post-it – and there seemed to be only one more after, thank God – was quite a bit longer, instructing her to go to a half dozen stores around the mall doing actual errands. Not that her body didn’t find new ways to humiliate her in the process. She pulled a vibrator out of her purse while shopping for batteries, making sure they were the right size. How did that even get in there? She bought some new sheets, explaining to the man at the check-out register that she’d gotten the old ones dirty, then winked suggestively. A copy of the new Tomb Raider video game, allowing her to ask a salesman, “do you think I’d look this good with boobs as big as hers?” (He did.) And so on. Through it all, whenever possible she found excuses to shop from the bottom shelves, bending at the waist and flashing her ass and pussy.
With the final bullet completed, she produced the last post-it note. It read, simply, “Kiera.”
Kiera was a mutual friend, who had for some time been pressuring Cindy to help set her up with Eric. Cindy had put in a good word for her, but Eric had never seemed interested – and of course, she now knew why. Because he’d been in love with her. At the time, though, it had seemed bizarre. Kiera was really pretty, a short Latina with dramatic features, a narrow waist with a butt that looked big on her but was objectively still pretty tight, boobs that were perkier than any teenager’s Cindy had ever seen. She was gorgeous, really.
Of course, he doesn’t know he already made me hit my lesbian quota for the day. That fucking jerk. With her body continuing to follow its own agenda without filling her in on the why’s or how’s, she flitted back out to her car and drove to Kiera’s apartment. Cindy wasn’t usually demure, but she certainly would never wear something this slutty; she couldn’t begin to imagine how she would explain it believably to her friend. She’s going to think I’ve gone insane. What if I can’t convince her to come with me? Will I just abduct her or something? Filled with more shame than she’d ever known in her life, she walked up to Kiera’s door and rang the bell, dreading what steps Eric might make her unwillingly take to complete his sick little errand?
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried.
Kiera answered the door almost instantly, as if she’d been standing on the other side of it just waiting for the doorbell to ring. Which, given the other evidence before her, Cindy supposed she had been. Kiera was wearing the same slutty schoolgirl outfit Cindy was. Her bigger breasts were more on display, and her skirt was navy blue where Cindy’s was red, but otherwise, they were a matching set.
“Hi, Kiera. Ready to go to serve Eric?”
“Hi, Cindy. I’m always ready to serve Eric.” Deep inside, she cried out in horror at the grotesque sexual objects the two girls had become, just for the misfortune of being friends with a mind controller. And Kiera – hell, Eric could have fucked her any time she wanted. She was seldom one to play hard to get, and she’d made her interest clear. Yet apparently this – this vapid, glassy-eyed fuck doll – was more appealing to him than the real woman.
Is she like me? she wondered as they headed out to the car. Is she trapped inside her head, unable to resist? Or is she an eager nympho like Cindyslut? Or a pleasure-focused puppet like Cindyslave? Or something else? But her body didn’t ask, and whatever slutty instincts that were operating its gears certainly didn’t care.
On the drive to Eric’s, Kiera spread her legs and played with herself, moaning little high-pitched girlish moans as she did so. She evidently wasn’t wearing panties either, and her pussy was shaved completely bald. Cindy sneaked a hand down between her legs too every time they were caught at a stoplight. People saw, she was sure, but that was no deterrent to either of them.
They soon arrived at Eric’s house, and Kiera helped Cindy carry her purchases inside. He was waiting for them in the living room once again. Without needing to be instructed, the girls in tandem straddled one of his legs and proceeded in no uncertain terms to double-team him. Their mouths were everywhere. Their hands were everywhere. It reminded Cindy of a POV version of watching strippers throwing themselves at men with money like she’d seen in movies, just throwing themselves at them with no semblance of self-respect, or reservation, or consideration that they deserved reciprocity.
Cindy was humping Eric’s thigh (and greatly exaggerating the pleasure it gave her) while Kiera was smothering him in her tits when he finally had them stand down. “Hang on, girls. It’s been a long couple days with Cindy here,” he said, and she beamed toothily. You’re damn right it has been. “Tonight, I think I just want a good show. Kiera, I know you know your way around a woman’s body… why don’t you show Cindy the ropes?”
Kiera’s bi? Wow, how did I not know that? She allowed herself a moment of regret for having projected a vibe that would make her friend uncomfortable sharing such a detail, mostly because a moment was all she had before Kiera’s tongue was in her mouth. From there, the night passed by in a blur of sweat and cumming and serving, and Cindy was so disconnected from it all that she’d have been hard-pressed to remember anything but the occasional moment.
She remembered telling Eric about her encounter at the mall – not in the furious, accusatory tone she wanted but instead in a sensual, tantalizing manner, teasing out the details. How big Angela’s tits had been. “Even bigger than yours, Kiera,” she said, squeezing them appreciatively. How hot it had made her to have an audience, how much hotter it had made her to feel them cumming on her ass. Hotter still to be recreating it for Eric now.
She remembered Eric sitting on the floor, Kiera lying face-up between his legs, and Cindy kneeling with her legs spread as wide as they would go. As Kiera started licking her pussy, she began to kiss Eric. Funny, my tongue is mimicking the motion of hers. I wonder why…
She remembered lying down on her stomach on the bed with Kiera face down on top of her, spreading their legs equally wide and begging Eric to fuck them, whining and pleading. They giggled, as if it were a game with no winners or losers. He dragged his cock teasingly across Cindy’s pussy, then up across her partner’s. They mewed with need, and Cindy knew it was at least partially sincere; all these tongues and fingers in her cunt had made her sorely miss cock. Especially Eric’s cock. Nothing ever had felt quite as good – true as much in her mind as in her body. (He didn’t fuck either of them that night, to her chagrin.)
She remembered prompting Eric about the underwear he’d had her buy. She modeled it for him, but by the time she was wearing the second outfit, Kiera had tackled her to the couch and was kissing and fondling her like she’d never get another chance. He never did get to see her in the nightie that evening. Cindy supposed she had the rest of her life to show it to him.
She remembered the disgust she felt the first time her tongue slid into Kiera’s slit and licked around inside her, imitating the things Angela and Kiera had done to her. Even by the time she first made Kiera cum, she had that adverse reaction under control. By the fourth time Kiera came on her face, it felt perfectly normal. By the last time, she felt like she’d gotten good at it, and was taking some solace in all this that at least she was giving comfort to a fellow victim. In spite of herself, Cindy really was enjoying it. Does that make me bi? I guess so.
And she would always remember the next morning, waking up in the bed she’d shared with the two of
them as Kiera dressed herself quietly, Eric still snoring softly. Cindy watched silently, filling with envy at the thought of being allowed to simply walk away from all this. Before she left, Kiera leaned down and gave Cindy a long kiss. Not for show this time, but just to kiss her. Then she left.
And Cindy was herself again.
The Decision
After Kiera’s stealth departure, Cindy soon succumbed to the need to sleep. She was more exhausted than she’d been in years, maybe even including the marathon she’d run in college. Her last thought before she passed out was to lament that she was sleeping through her last morning as a free woman.
She woke up alone in bed, and quickly showered, one of those showers that can’t get hot enough or get you clean enough. With little else on hand, not even the robe from yesterday, she slipped into the nightie she’d bought for Eric yesterday. She caught sight of herself in the bureau mirror. How could I ever have thought this was “chaste”? No one would ever dress this way unless they were a living breathing trophy.
Which, I suppose, I am. Or will be soon.
She went downstairs defeatedly. Eric was reclining on the living room couch in just his boxers, shutting off the TV as she entered the room. Without thinking, she charged at him and started hitting him.
“You son of a bitch!” she shrieked and she hammered her fists against him. Part of her was aware of and surprised that he was letting her do this; most of her didn’t care. She knew she was too weak and too tired to really hurt him, and really, she didn’t want to. She just needed to hit him for a while. And he let her, only occasionally interfering to protect his face, until she had worn herself out and collapsed against him sobbing. He held her there wordlessly for a long while.
“Yesterday, you… I… How could you ?” She murmured into his chest.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be cruel. I swear.”
She sat back up, wiping tears from her face as she situated herself on the far end of the couch. “How was that anything other than cruel? To have my own thoughts while we…”
