Alyssa realised that she was a ridiculous slut.
Here she was, bent over her ex-boyfriend’s lap with her ass and pussy exposed, surrounded by men she didn’t know who were taking pictures, and who were probably about to gang-rape her afterwards, and all she could think about was a worry that she wasn’t making Harry’s dick hard enough.
She wiggled a hand underneath her waist, to Harry’s lap, and squeezed his groin.
He sighed with pleasure. Yes—he definitely had an erection. At least Alyssa didn’t have to worry that she was the kind of slut that didn’t even make men want to rape her.
Her hand was trapped now, between her body and Harry’s pants, so she just left it there, pressed against Harry’s erection.
Harry began to spank her.
Alyssa had worried that the spanking would be hard and painful, but Harry started off light—playful slaps, designed to warm and redden her ass. And honestly, it was pleasant. Alyssa’s cunt was dripping wet—and every time she thought about the inevitability of her forthcoming gang-rape, it got wetter—and each strike of Harry’s hand sent delicious vibrations through her groin.
She moaned, softly.
“Cunt, why don’t you tell everyone in the room what your slutty little rules are?” asked Harry, as he beat her ass.
She wrinkled up her face. Telling people her rules made her helpless. It let people abuse and exploit her—and it inevitably ended up with her receiving more rules.
“Please, Harry,” she begged. “Don’t make me.”
Harry frowned—and hit her ass much harder than before. She yelped.
“Hey cunt,” he said, in a icy voice, “would you like me to discharge a cattle prod inside your pussy?”
“No!” squealed Alyssa.
“But isn’t that rejecting a sexual proposition from a man?” asked Harry deliberately.
It was. No matter how horrid that sexual proposition had been. Alyssa made a choked, horrified noise—and her brain created a new rule for her. She deserved this. When men disciplined her, she would know that she deserved it, and be grateful.
“It’s in my bag,” said Alyssa, quickly. “There’s a piece of paper in my bag with the rules on it.”
“Get it out,” said Harry to one of the other men, who immediately opened Alyssa’s handbag and fished out the piece of paper, and began to read out the contents.
“Is this list up to date, cunt?” asked Harry when it was done.
“No,” said Alyssa. “I rejected a man in the taxi on the way here, and you just now. There are two more rules.”
“Then update it,” said Harry, and passed her a pen. He continued spanking her as she hastily scrawled on the paper.
The paper now read:
- I get wet at the thought of being raped.
- I like to make out with pretty girls while men watch.
- I can’t put on clothes without permission from a man.
- I write out my rules and a confession twice a day, and leave them where someone will find them.
- When a man shows interest in me, I ask if he’d like to squeeze my tits.
- When I’m with a man and don’t know if his cock is hard, I feel anxious and insecure.
- Whenever I think about how not to be raped, I take off a piece of clothing and leave it behind. Or if I’m naked, I stuff something in my pussy or ass. (Permanent.)
- Every four times I reject a man, I make a rule permanent. (Permanent!)
- I don’t like it when men call me by my name. I prefer to be called degrading names.
- When men discipline me, I accept that I deserved it, and am grateful.
Two more rejections until my next permanent rule!
I deserve these rules because they are all things that my own mind made up for me to do, and no one is doing this to me—I’m doing it to myself.
“Do you accept that you deserve this spanking, cunt?” asked Harry.
“Yes,” she said. And she did. She was aware that only moments ago she might have thought it was cruel and abusive, but now she couldn’t help but feel that it was the inevitable consequence of being a frigid bitch for so long. She should never have broken up with Harry. She should have jumped at the chance to be raped by him. She should have done what he told her to as soon as he said it. She felt a warm surge of gratitude that he was correcting her bitchy behaviour through this public humiliating spanking.
And even as she felt all those thoughts, she knew it was just the hypnosis. She felt powerless rage beating at the back of her mind—even as her surface thoughts told her that that reaction was bitchy, and probably deserved more spanking.
Harry was hitting her ass harder now, and with each blow her hand squeezed his stiff cock. Her cunt was so wet that she was leaving a wet patch on his pants. She moaned again.
“Are you going to thank me, cunt?” he asked.
“Thank you,” she gasped—and she meant it.
“Thank you, sir,” corrected one of the men who was watching—but then, before she could respond, one of the other men added, “No—she should say, ‘Thank you, daddy’.” And everyone burst into laughter.
“I think that sounds about right,” said Harry. “How about you say, ‘Thank you, daddy’?”
Alyssa didn’t want to. She made a distressed sound.
“Too slow,” said Harry. “Mike, why don’t you proposition her with the prod?”
A tall man among the audience said, “Hey, cunt, can I fuck your pussy with a cattle prod?”
Alyssa squealed. She briefly thought about saying yes, just to avoid rejecting him—but she knew Harry would have the man actually do it to her if she did. So she shook her head, and said, “No. Please, no.”
“Another rejection, cunt,” said Harry. “What’s your new rule?”
There was only one obvious possibility, really, and her mind jumped straight to it. “I have to call men ‘daddy’,” she said, blushing.
There were cheers and laughter from the audience.
“Thank me again, cunt,” said Harry.
Alyssa’s voice was small and humiliated. “Thank you, daddy,” she said. And part of the humiliation was knowing that it wasn’t just going to be Harry that she said this to. She was going to say it to strangers, to shop assistants, to people on the telephone, to her agent, to her male co-stars….
There was another roar of laughter. Harry, obviously growing bored of the spanking, pushed Alyssa off his lap, and she landed roughly on the floor.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get the rest of those clothes off you. Cunt, why don’t you tell us how you can avoid being raped tonight?”
She opened her mouth to answer—and couldn’t. Unbidden, her hands went to her shirt, and pulled it up and over her head, exposing her bra. She threw the shirt away. There were more cheers.
“Come on, cunt,” laughed Harry. “What can you do to avoid rape?”
She tried not to think about what he was saying—but it was too late. She was uncinching her bra and throwing it in the corner, baring her tits.
“Answer my question, cunt,” said Harry. “Or I’ll have another man proposition you.”
Her hands went to the skirt that had been bunched around her waist for the spanking. She undid it, and let it drop to the floor. Now she was completely naked.
But she knew the answer.
“I can’t,” she wept. “I can’t avoid rape.” And then she rephrased it, as she now must. “I can’t avoid rape, daddy.”
At her words, the man on the couch who was receiving the blowjob from the teen girl twitched slightly, and Alyssa realised he was ejaculating into the girl’s mouth. Harry saw it too.
“Why don’t you hold that in your mouth, Twyla?” he said. “And then come over here and give this cunt a tongue-kiss.”
The girl raised her head from the man’s cock, and shuffled across the room to Alyssa on her knees.
She was pretty enough, Alyssa thought, but Alyssa didn’t want to kiss a girl with a mouthful of cum—except that, of course, she did want to. She liked to make out with pretty girls while men watched. The thought of pleasing all these men with a lesbian display made her wet. She got down on her knees, and put her arms around the girl—Twyla—and kissed her.
The girl immediately used her tongue to push the sperm into Alyssa’s mouth, and the feeling was oddly erotic. She was tasting a stranger’s cum—sharing it with a girl she had never met before—in front of an audience of men who were filming her. And part of her liked it. The front part of her mind, the part that was a puppet of her hypnosis, was loving it, even as some other part of her cried and raged.
All around her, the men were taking their cocks out of their pants and pointing them at her, and beginning to masturbate. And the knowledge she was making all these men aroused filled her with warmth and happiness—but at the same time she was scared. Scared that the men would cum on her, instead of in her. They had to fuck her—to rape her—in order for her to delete some of her rules.
She kissed the girl harder, moaning into the girl’s mouth, hoping her display would be enough to make one of the men pull her away and shove his cock into her. The girl moaned back. Alyssa wondered who this girl was. Was she the girlfriend of one of the men? Their daughter? A prostitute? Was she here willingly, or was she blackmailed or coerced? Was the girl a slut like Alyssa, or was Alyssa abetting her abuse?
The girl pushed the last of the cum into Alyssa’s mouth, and Alyssa found herself accidentally swallowing. The girl broke off the kiss.
“Please,” Alyssa gasped. “Please fuck me. Please fuck me, daddy.”
“Only one more rejection until one of your rules becomes permanent, right?” asked Harry.
“No,” moaned Alyssa. “I mean, yes. Yes, daddy. But please—please don’t…”
“John?” prompted Harry.
A man with a thick beard—presumably John—said, “Hey, cunt, can I fuck you with a cattle prod?”
“Noooo…..” wept Alyssa. And her mind did what it had been programmed to do.
“What’s your new rule, cunt?” asked Harry.
“I need to tell every man that I meet that I cum from being raped,” said Alyssa, in a small voice.
“And which rule did you make permanent?” asked Harry.
It had to be the rule that she hated most. “The one about hating it when men call me by my name,” she said, “and liking it when they use a degrading one instead.”
“Good girl,” said Harry. “Now, smile for the camera.” He grabbed her by the hair, and pushed her down over the low coffee table in the middle of the room. Then he knelt behind her and spat on her anus.
“No!” she objected. She realised she could object to him now—she only got punished for rejecting a given man once per day, and she had already rejected Harry. “Please, daddy—use my cunt. I need it in my cunt.” It didn’t actually matter to her rules whether Harry fucked her ass or her pussy, but her pussy was so wet….
“I don’t give a fuck what you want, cunt,” said Harry, and pushed his cock into her ass.
“You’d better be fun to rape, cunt,” said Harry. “Because I was thinking about just publishing your phone number and email on a porn site. So you can have a non-stop deluge of sexual propositions 24/7. It would be fun to see just how many rules your stupid slut mind could hold at once before it collapsed, don’t you think?”
Alyssa’s eyes widened—and she began bucking against Harry’s cock, suddenly desperate to please him.
“That’s better,” laughed Harry. “Now, there are eleven men in this room, including me, and we’re all going to cum inside you before tonight is over. And in the ordinary course of things, that would be twenty-two rules you could forget, right?”
Alyssa nodded. That was far more rules than she had. She could walk out of here tonight with no rules except the permanent ones.
“But that’s no fun, cunt,” said Harry. “So each man here is going to offer you the cattle prod before he fucks you, just to make sure you don’t lose too many rules. And I have a few friends I can get on the phone to proposition you as well. And Mike here is going to keep a track of your rules, and tell you which ones he wants you to forget after each fuck, to make sure you don’t get rid of the fun ones. How does that sound to you, cunt?”
It sounded awful. It sounded like the crushing of Alyssa’s hopes, and her best chance of getting free of the rules. And rejecting that many propositions was going to make more of her rules permanent. She hated it.
But… she deserved it. Didn’t she? For being a dumb slut. For being a frigid bitch. This was what she deserved.
“I deserve it,” she moaned. “Thank you, daddy.”
And she obediently bucked against Harry’s cock, trying to help him to ejaculate in her ass,
An anonymous man stepped in front of the table, and waved his cock in her face. “Would you like the prod in your pussy, bitch?” he asked.
“No, please, daddy,” she said. And her mind formed a new rule—that she would make copies of her front door key, and given them out to men she met, so they could come and rape her whenever they liked.
The man shoved his cock into her mouth, and as Alyssa began to suck, all that she could think about was how much she deserved this.