Alyssa was going to be raped tonight. She could see that in the lustful gaze of George Rutlins as he stared at her tits. She could feel it in the rough, possessive caress of his hand over her exposed breasts.
And the knowledge that she was going to be wet was making her wet—overpoweringly, sluttily wet. It was making it hard for her to think clearly about anything but her throbbing, whorish cunt. She was sitting here, in public view, at a celebrity party, with her udders exposed, while a notable film producer molested her, and all she could think about was how hard she would cum when he raped her.
She hated her “average availability” conditioning. She hated what it made her do. She hated the person it made her be.
She tried to think what Rutlins had just said. He had asked her why she was qualified for the job.
“Well, sir,” she said, bouncing in her seat a little so her tits would jiggle and keep George’s attention, “I understand the movie is called ‘The Rape Liar’. And it’s about a woman who seduces men, and then falsely reports them for rape. But then the hero of the film gets revenge for all the men she’s wronged by raping her on live TV and making her confess her lies.”
“That’s right, sweetie,” said Rutlins, tweaking her nipple and making her gasp. She had his full attention now, she thought. Jayden, the bare-titted porn actress on the other side of him. looked bored and ignored.
Alyssa remembered that she hadn’t told George a sexual act that she enjoyed yet. “So I really like making men want to rape me,” she said, in a breathy, seductive voice. “And I like it even more when they follow through.”
Rutlins looked at her, and then said, “Shall we continue this conversation in a private room?”
Alyssa’s first thought was to say “oh god, yes”. She was pathetically grateful to not have to put on this slutty display in front of all the other partygoers, many of whom she knew were staring openly at her exposed fuckballoons. But then she realised that this was another step towards her impending, inevitable rape, and she cringed.
But there was only one acceptable answer. “Of course,” she said.
Rutlins stood, and led Alyssa through the party, her tits still exposed. They went down a hallway, and turned into an opulent, tastefully decorated bedroom. The porn actress followed them, still looking bored, and closed the door behind them.
Rutlins sat on the bed, and looked at Alyssa. “The role you’re applying for is fundamentally a sexual object for the audience to visualise raping. Many of your scenes will be nude. I want to see that you’re sufficiently rapeable. Show me your body.”
“Yes, sir,” said Alyssa. She was blushing bright red, but her hands were going to the hem of her dress to begin lifting it up her body and pull it over her head. “Of course, normally,” she continued, following her compulsion to help him picture raping her, “a man who wanted to use me could just slap me across the face and then rip my clothes off.”
The dress came over her head and off, and then she was standing there nude, except for high heels and panties. She blushed even brighter red, then slid the panties down her legs, revealing her pretty, shaved pussy.
Without being asked, she parted her legs a little, to give Rutlins a closer look.
“Am I rapeable enough, sir?” she asked, driven to encourage comments that sexually objectified her. “Is my fuckhole acceptable?”
Rutlins appeared to ignore her, and turned to the porn actress. “Jayden, this bitch is so wet she’s dripping cunt slime onto the carpet, which is worth more than she is. Can you keep her clean while we talk?”
“Yes, sir,” said Jayden, and moved to kneel directly in front of Alyssa. Alyssa felt the woman’s unnaturally large and round tits brush against her legs. Then she leaned forward, and licked her tongue along Alyssa’s snatch.
Alyssa jumped, and almost backed away—but she caught herself just in time. Rutlins wanted this to happen, so it would happen. And it would be good if the girl took part in her raping, because Alyssa would be allowed to forget twice as many rules.
She shivered with humiliation as the porn slut began to service her pussy, probing between her throbbing cunt lips with her tongue, lapping at Alyssa’s copious slut-honey, tickling her clitoris with tiny sucking kisses and long forceful lickings. Her knees were weak, and it was an effort to stand.
“You’ve never worked on one of my films before, Alyssa,” said Rutlins. It was a statement of fact.
“No, sir,” agreed Alyssa, trying to stay focused as Jayden lapped vigorously at her throbbing pussy.
“We don’t hold with equal rights on my films, Alyssa,” said Rutlins. “The girls are there as decoration, not as decision-makers. It’s fairly normal for the director and crew to address the actresses as ‘the cunt’ or ‘the bitch’ or so forth. You may not hear your real name for the entire duration of filming. Is that all right with you?”
It wasn’t—but Alyssa had to land this job, to get rid of her programming. “Yes, sir,” she gasped, her knees shaking as Jayden continued to rub her face against Alyssa’s wet beaver.
“And we don’t waste money on getting you into and out of costumes you don’t need,” said Rutlins. “If you’re filming a nude scene on a day, you’ll be nude all day, whether in your trailer or in front of the crew. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said Alyssa.
“And this idea of ‘simulated sex’ is a waste of time,” said Rutlins. “All the sex scenes in the movie will be real sex, including the rapes.”
“Oh, yes,” moaned Alyssa, and she didn’t know if she was responding to Rutlins or to Jayden’s tongue. Her hands had moved to her tits of her own accord, and were forcefully squeezing them. She pinched her own nipples, hard enough to hurt.
“And when it’s filmed, you’ll be on the press tour, and I expect you to get good press, even if that means fucking the journalists,” said Rutlins.
“Yes, sir,” said Alyssa. “Anything.”
“Excellent,” said Rutlins. “Now get on your knees and kiss the bitch who’s been servicing your twat. Put on a good show, and you’ll have a chance to get the film.”
Immediately, Alyssa fell to her knees, and kissed Jayden on the lips with desperate, pathetic need. She liked to kiss pretty girls while men watched. Her rules told her that, and she knew it was true. Jayden’s mouth tasted like Alyssa’s cunt, and that just made Alyssa wetter. Her hands went to Jayden’s tits, at first caressing them, and then squeezing them, hard—hard enough to hurt. She wanted to hurt the fake, plastic tits. She wanted to take out her humiliation and frustration on this pretty bitch. But the harder she squeezed, the more Jayden moaned sluttily into Alyssa’s mouth, and a moment later she felt Jayden’s hand slide between her legs and begin rubbing her pussy.
Her momentary cruelty melted into love and gratitude. Jayden was playing with her pussy—the one thing she needed more than anything in the world. Jayden would make her cum. Jayden was such a good girl. She moaned into Jayden’s mouth, and moved her hand to Jayden’s fuckhole to return the favour. To her pleasure she found it wet and eager.
George Rutlins stood up, and walked over to stand over the two kneeling girls. He unzipped his pants and took out his stiff, erect cock. He looked down at the girls, and then began to swing his hips so as to slap his cock against the faces and foreheads of the two girls as they kissed.
“Compete for me, sluts,” said Rutlins. “Whichever of you gets my cum inside you gets the role.”
Alyssa felt a sudden wave of humiliation. This porn whore was in competition for the same role as her? She was auditioning for a role that a talentless fuckdoll was equally appropriate for?
But she intended to get the role, regardless, so she opened her mouth wide, craned her neck upwards, and tried to catch Rutlins’ cock between her lips.
Jayden did the same thing, and soon the girls were sharing a new kiss—only now there was a hot, throbbing cock between their lips.
Alyssa growled, and tried to capture the tip of the cock in her mouth. But Jayden pushed her face against Alyssa’s, vying for the same goal. Alyssa could feel her drool mingling with Jayden’s, and dripping down to splatter on both their tits, but she didn’t care. Her hand between Jayden’s legs moved to the girl’s clitoris, and she pinched viciously. Jayden squealed—but simply returned the favour, sending agonising pain into Alyssa’s cunt.
Alyssa responded by grabbing one of Jayden’s tits in her fist and shaking it back and forth, trying to dislodge the whorish bitch. Jayden, in turn, grabbed a handful of Alyssa’s hair and tried to pull Alyssa’s face off Rutlins’ cock.
Rutlins just laughed. He looked down at the warring girls, and very deliberately spat on them. The gobbet of split landed on Alyssa face, so he spat again, on Jayden, just to keep things even.
Alyssa moaned with triumph as she managed to get the tip of Rutlins’ cock in her mouth, and began sucking on it eagerly, relishing the taste of the producer’s pre-cum on her tongue. But at that point Jayden punched her hard in the left boob, and Alyssa gasped, and the dick popped out of her mouth again.
“You skank!” she snarled, and gave Jayden’s clitoris another vicious twist, before applying her mouth back to the cock.
She knew she was degrading herself. She knew she was behaving in a way that would prevent any man who saw it from ever respecting her. But she couldn’t help it. She needed the film. She needed to get out from this hypnotic conditioning that turned her into such a slut. She would do what it took to achieve that.
Her cunt was throbbing harder and harder. Kissing Jayden this way—their lips coated in spittle and separated by the thick girth of a man’s cock—was so slutty that it just kept making her wetter. And she was so wet that Jayden’s abuse of her clitoris was just bringing her closer and closer to cumming.
God, she was about to cum from having her clitoris tortured by a porn whore, while begging like an animal for a man’s cock.
And that was the thought that sent her over the edge. She felt herself cum—and cum again. Jayden was so surprised by Alyssa’s sudden shaking, and the squealing scream she made, that she backed off from Rutlins’ cock, and Alyssa was able to take the whole thing into her mouth, worshipping it with her tongue, letting it bump against the back of her throat as she gazed up at Rutlins with eyes eager for approval, as she orgasmed at his feet.
“That’ll do,” said Rutlins, and before Alyssa knew what was happening, he had grabbed her hair and was pulling her over to the bed. Half stumbling, half dragged, she crossed the space to the bed and sprawled on the mattress tits-up, legs spread. A moment later, Rutlin was between her legs, and then his cock was pushing into her wet pussy.
She orgasmed again at the first penetration. She looked up at Rutlins’ cruel face, hoping he would lean down and kiss her, but he had no intention of doing that. Instead, he spat on her again, and then slapped her face, and she knew if she let him do this to her, she would let anyone do anything—and still she didn’t struggle. She just let him rape her.
Jayden had vanished. Alyssa looked around for her, and realised that the porn slut was now kneeling behind Rutlins. Was she licking his anus as he fucked Alyssa? Alyssa thought that she was, and her stomach did a backflip at the thought that she might someday be expected to do that.
Rutlins slapped her again, and again, and Alyssa just orgasmed in response, until finally she felt Rutlins shudder, and sigh, and felt a wetness begin to trickle from her cunt lips. Rutlins had ejactulated inside her. She had received his cum. The role was hers.
“Thank you, sir,” she breathed—and she meant it. Her mind was too confused and slutty to do otherwise. She had wanted him to cum inside her, and he had, and she was grateful.
Two rules she could remove—but was it only two? She realised she wasn’t done yet.
“Sir,” she said, “may I finish off Jayden?” It didn’t occur to her that she was asking for the consent of a man to fuck a girl, rather than asking the girl herself.
Rutlins nodded. “I think you’ve earned it. In fact, why don’t you girls clean each other up?” He pulled Jayden up on the bed, in the same position as Alyssa, tits up, ass down. Alyssa saw what Rutlins wanted, and she got up onto all fours and crawled over Jayden in a 69 position.
She felt Rutlins cum dripping from her twat onto Jayden’s face. She lowered her hips slightly, and Jayden began to eagerly lick the producer’s sperm from her cunt. Then she lowered her own face, and began to lick at Jayden.
The whore tasted amazing—and soon she felt Jayden start to cum, and then Alyssa was coming, too.
“Thank you,” she breathed again, into Jayden’s cunt. She didn’t know if Jayden heard her, and didn’t care.
She had the movie. She would be “The Rape Liar”. And she could remove four whole rules!
She remembered the guilt she had felt last time she had removed a lesbian compulsion with a lesbian experience still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to feel that again. Without compulsions, she found lesbian sex disgusting and traumatic. So she would keep her urge to kiss pretty girls while men watched.
Becoming aroused from rape was another complicated rule. It made her much more likely to be raped—but at the same time it was a defence mechanism. How much more horrible was it to be raped and not be wet for it? To not orgasm? She thought there was a good chance she would be raped again before she got rid of her rules forever, and so she kept that rule.
Of the rest, the dog collar that said “rape me” wasn’t really so bad. Of all the ways she was asking men to rape her, it was honestly one of the more subtle. She would keep that.
She had eight rules in total, so she only needed to keep one more, and the rest would go. Of the remaining, she had three rules relating to conversations—tell men about her sexual kinks, help them visualise raping her, and encourage her own objectification. And she had two rules about display—draw attention to her tits, and let men see her tits and cunt if they wanted.
They were all terrible. But she supposed encouraging her own objectification was the least bad. She would have to do that anyway, it seemed, to not offend George Rutlins or the people she would be working with on the film.
And just like that, the remaining rules vanished.
She watched as George Rutlins picked up the dress she had worn to the party, and very deliberately used it to wipe his dick clean, leaving a long smear of cum down the front of it. He took her panties and put them in his pocket. “Your agent will have the details about the film,” he told her, and left.
Jayden gave Alyssa a kiss on the cheek—almost loving—and said, “You were a good fuck, sweetie,” and then left herself, not even bothering to pull her own dress all the way on before exiting the room.
Alyssa lay there, nude, with Jayden’s cunt juices smeared over her face and tits, and tried to tell herself that she wasn’t a disgusting whore.
A phone rang. It was hers. She scrambled over to her dress—nude—and answered it.
“Hello?” she said.
“Hey, babe,” said a voice. It was her ex-boyfriend, Harry. It sounded like he was at a bar—some place noisy, with lots of people. “I’m feeling horny. Come over to my house so I can rape you.”
“Harry, I can’t!” she protested. “I’m at a party!”
And just like that, a new rule formed in her brain. She had rejected a sexual proposition, so she needed a rule.
I can’t put on clothes without permission from a man, she thought to herself. And gasped, because it was a horrid rule, and it would start humiliating her immediately, and now she was stuck with it.
Harry’s voice became rough and cruel. “I thought I made it clear that you don’t say no to me, babe,” he growled. Then he played a sound file to her, down the phone line. It was her own voice, saying, “Please rape me, Harry. I want you to rape me. I’m so wet.”
Alyssa felt sick at how needy and pathetic she sounded.
“I really can’t, Harry,” she pleaded. “Not tonight. I can come tomorrow.”
“Fine,” said Harry. “Tomorrow. But you need a lesson in discipline.” She heard him yell, away from the phone. “Hey, Martin! Come over here!”
A voice, distant, but coming closer, said, “What’s up? Who are you talking to?”
“Here,” said Harry. “Take the phone and ask this bitch if you can fuck her.”
Alyssa knew she should hang up the phone before the man spoke. Would that count as a rejection? Probably not. But Harry would be even angrier—and even crueller—and he had that film of her begging for rape. It occurred to her that if that came out before she filmed the movie, it might be took much even for a producer who had wanted her to be sexually available. After all, no one would come to see her get raped in a blockbuster film if they could see it for free on a porn site.
So she listened, as Harry’s friend, Martin, said, “Hello, bitch, who is this?”
“Alyssa,” said Alyssa quietly.
“Can I come to where you are and fuck you, Alyssa?” he asked.
“No,” she said, still quietly.
“Fuck you, then, bitch,” said Martin, and hung up the phone.
God, she was so stupid! She had just been raped by a man and a woman. That should be enough sex for any woman for a month. It had gotten rid of four whole rules—and yet she was already back up to six.
She kept being a bitch to men. That was her problem. She just didn’t learn, no matter how cruel her rules were.
She deserved something more. Something worse.
“Every four times you reject a sexual proposition,” she heard herself say, “you will pick the current rule that you hate most, and make it permanent. You can’t remove it unless there are no other rules to remove.”
And that became her rule. And, as soon as it was, it came into force—and she made it permanent.
She started to weep. She was such a dumb slut. All these rules had come from her own imagination. She was doing it to herself. She was choosing the rules she knew she deserved. Another girl—a nice girl—would have chosen easier rules. She was just making herself into the person she knew she really was.
Six rules. She would have to be raped three more times without rejecting anyone in between. Could she do it?
No. Of course she couldn’t. She was a dumb slut. It was impossible to see herself as anything else, lying nude in a stranger’s bedroom with a porn slut’s cunt honey still sticky on her face. But she would have to try.
She sniffed, and wiped away her tears, and picked up her cum-stained dress, and walked nervously back out into the party, completely naked, to try and find a man to give her permission to get dressed.