I hated Em, and hated even more that I was stuck inside the cramped dorm room with her for the whole senior year at high school. I hated cheerleaders in general, but her even more. She was a bitch, that pretty, perfect looking kind of girl everyone took for an angel, with long, blond hair, full lips and boobs that drew every male’s attention. She flaunted her toned legs on high heels every opportunity she got and never needed to pay a single cent when she went out. She played everyone around her without a second thought. And worst of all, she played me and I knew it.

“Sally,” her sugary sweet voice called me from the room.

“I’m just taking a shower,” I hollered back, just in the process of soaping up my leg.

“I don’t care! Now!”

I sighed and rolled my eyes, but nonetheless quickly dried myself enough so I wouldn’t leave a trail of water, wrapped a towel around me and tip-toed into our room. Em was lounging on the black leather couch her parents had bought her, her tablet with the pink cover on her lap, and she was giggling.

“I hate you,” I hissed at her and pushed the strand of mousy brown hair back that was stuck to my cheek.

She looked up with a grin. “I know. Now drop the towel, sweetbuns. I want to play a game.”

“Fuck, no! Please,” I begged. “Not today! Today’s Monica’s party, you know that.”

“Of course I know. That’s why I want to play. Now be a good girl, Sally, and do as you’re told.”

I hated her with all my heart, hated that sweet pout with which she looked at me, hated the way she ran her finger along her dress’ cleavage and pulled the fabric almost, just almost, far enough down so I could see her yummy, rosy nipple while she cutely bit her lip.

I dropped the fluffy towel and stepped closer until my shins bumped against the couch, then splayed my legs shoulder width apart without being prompted, as always when she wanted to play games. She looked me up and down, my too-small, barely B-cup breasts that looked almost boyish in comparison to hers, then to my twat that I kept bare and smooth as she had ordered. My inner lips peeked out quite visibly.

Her eyes went back to her iPad, probably to read another of the wicked stories she found on the internet and liked so much, but her inattention was part of the game. She reached out casually, running her hand up my body until it found a nipple. She pinched it hard and rolled it between her fingers.

I hated that my breathing became harder.

Her hand travelled down again, leaving me feeling one-sided, out of balance, one nipple soft, the other hard as stone and hot. She pushed two fingers up my twat, knowing that the little play had been enough to get my juices running, and they slid in without effort.

I hated that I couldn’t contain my gasp.

She finger-fucked me, there’s no other fitting name for it, shoved her digits hard and fast up my needy twat. Every so often, her thumb scratched my clit and made me gasp and moan. The heat built up between my thighs and rose higher with each careless thrust, and I could feel the raging hot inferno waiting for me at the horizon.

My hips started trembling and my breath flew hard. The pleasure started spiraling and made my clit and nipples ache. Higher and higher my lust soared, and I could feel my toes touch the delicious edge and…

“Stop!” I cried with monumental effort. She withdrew her fingers. Ragged pants escaped my throat, and tears of need filled my eyes.

“You can finish your shower now,” Em told me without looking up and made a dismissive gesture, “but you know the rules.”

God, how I hated these rules!

I had to turn the water to almost freezing, and yet I had to steer clear of my running twat to keep myself from accidentally cumming. I soaped my hair and rinsed it, then, finally clean, stepped out of the shower and dried off. I slipped into the lacy, one size too small panties that Em had laid out for me and pulled on the skin-tight, dark red minidress. I went barefoot, as it was still too early to risk tearing the sheer stockings before the party even started.

“Sally!”

I fucking hated her calling me like a servant!

I pattered back into the room. She had moved to sit on the corner of my bed and motioned for me to come closer. I cursed when I saw the thick, black rubber dildo in her hand. “I just showered,” I complained, knowing that my thighs would soon be covered with fresh juices.

She just shook her head in exasperation and sat its base down on her knee.

I waddled over, bunching up the skirt around my waist and sliding my freshly donned panties all the way down my legs again, then crouched with wide knees over the monstrous artificial appendage. I reached down to part my pussy lips, then slowly lowered myself on the dildo’s head. No moving upwards was the rule here. My pussy was spread wider and wider, the bulbous head pushing inside me and stretching my walls to their limits. Small twinges of pain accompanied the intrusion but were washed away by the incredible, delicious, debauched feeling of the rubber cock.

It was only halfway in, and I was already mewling like a cat in heat with every further millimeter of the monster I managed to force inside. My thighs shook and I could barely breathe.

Em’s hands gripped the tops of my thighs. “Should I help you?” she asked in her sweetest voice.

I hated that I wasn’t allowed to decline her.

“Yes! Please!” I gasped, squirming on the monster and barely able to form words because my whole body trembled so much.

She dug her fingernails deep into my skin and pressed down on my thighs with all her weight, and I arched my body, threw back my head and cried out when the smooth rubber was pushed all the way inside, like a huge fist that went up into my womb. Cramps ran through my lower body but slowly subsided, and I took in a shuddering breath.

Em spit on her fingers and started to rub my swollen pearl in quick circular motions. “You’re such a needy, perverted slut,” she chastised. “I can’t believe you let me stick that inside you.”

The shame slid like burning blanket over my skin. Drawn-out, high-pitched moans flew from my lips, and the delicious heat…

“Stop!” I cried once more, and all movement ceased. Tears of unfulfilled longing streaked down my cheeks.

How I hated that I wasn’t allowed to cum!

Em granted me five minutes of reprieve to cool down enough that the mere act of slipping the black monster from my twat wouldn’t set me off. But then she slapped my thigh, my sign that I needed to get up, and I pulled myself off the beast with little whimpers. The rubber only hesitantly left my twat with perverted, sucking sounds. My snatch gaped open so wide I could have stuck three fingers inside without touching, and I knew it would take another ten minutes until it would close up all the way again.

As always, I got onto my knees, caught my hands behind my back and started lapping up my musky juices that coated the rubber and made it gleam while fresh secretions dribbled wetly down my thighs.

I hated how deliciously debased that made me feel!

Half an hour later, I was just sorting through a drawer for a lighter when her arms encircled me from behind. The front of my dress was pulled up and the soft, slightly scratchy feeling of wool slipped down my tummy and inside my panties.

“No!” I gasped. “Not that!”

A giggle filled my ear and her gloved hand rubbed up and down inside my slit. The wool quickly soaked up any moisture that was there and then slid roughly through my tender folds, feeling like cruel sanding paper every time it ground over my clit. My poor snatch grew hotter and hotter with each stroke, but fresh moisture seeped out, keeping Em’s ruthless caresses just barely bearable.

The pain also stroked a wicked pleasure, and soon I found my hips eagerly meeting each of her strokes and jerking impatiently. My grunts turned into moans, and I caught myself encouraging her to rub even harder.

I hated when that happened.

The trembling started in my loins, then spread down my thighs and knees, until my legs shook and delirious pleasure surged from my raw twat. My heart jumped in joy, there it was, the cliff that had been far too long denied me, and...

I whimpered, “Stop!” My whole body shook, and I sobbed.

Em’s hand slipped away, and she pulled off the glove and handed it to me to wash. I glanced towards the clock. Half an hour was left until we had to leave for the party.

Twenty-five minutes later, I had just put on my shoes, elegant, barely existing sandals with sluttishly high heels, when I heard my name again.

I stumbled out of the tiny walk-in closet, unused to such heels. Em was dressed to kill in a sheer mesh top that showed off the expensive bra she wore underneath and would make everyone around her drool. Her black, short leather skirt went perfectly with it, and the tight, laced, shiny high heeled boots that went up to her thighs were just to die for.

“Come here,” she told me with a smile and I complied. She gestured to my crotch.

I pulled up my skirt once again, my fingers trembling. This was new, and I had no idea what she had planned. I pulled down my panties and sighed softly. My pussy lips were red and swollen, and the gusset sticky with my honey.

“Randy little thing,” Em commented and pulled a small jar from her purse. “You know what this is?” she asked, holding it up for me to inspect.

It was dark red, with some brighter spots, and at first, I had not the faintest idea. Then she pulled one of these cheap, semi-transparent rubber gloves from her purse and put it on, and a knot of dread formed in my stomach.

“No,” I protested meekly.

Em smiled brightly at me and unscrewed the jar, then dipped a finger in and lifted out a good scoop. “No, you don’t know, or, no, please not this?”

“Not this,” I whimpered, now certain that I didn’t want chilli paste on my already flaming parts.

“But you know the rules, Sally. Once the game has started…” She held out her finger until it was just an inch from my poor twat. “Spread yourself open and cover your twat with the paste. Be a good girl. Do it for me.”

“Oh god, Em, please,” I begged, but I already knew I’d find no compassion. My hips trembled, but I spread my labia apart and moved forward until my twat touched the red goo. I bent my knees so her finger slid upwards through my folds and coated them with paste. She helped by wiggling her finger a little once it reached my clit.

At first, I only felt her touch. Then my twat grew warm. After seconds, it started to burn, a burn that quickly turned into stinging, and I whimpered softly.

“Good girl,” she whispered and put the jar back in her purse, then pulled off the glove. She pulled up my panties herself this time and even smoothed down my skirt.

I hated that she could make me do practically everything!

* * * *

The party was just a few blocks down the road from campus, so we walked. Each step rubbed my swollen pussy lips together, and my twat boiled and burned painfully. I shuffled awkwardly behind, trying to keep up with Em’s determined strides and trying not to worry about my creamy juices which had started to drench my panties once more and would soon make them overflow. My nipples were hard like steel, rubbing on the dress’ fabric with every step and stoking my arousal.

Suddenly, Em turned left into a cul-de-sac. “Hey!” I protested. “That’s not the way to the party!”

She stopped and turned around, the biggest grin I’d ever seen on her lighting up her face, and my stomach plummeted.

“We’re going to a different party.” Her smile became patronizing. “Don’t worry about Monica; I called her.”

“But…” I started to object. The short widening of her eyes silenced me. I hung my head and followed after her, a strange buzz starting in my tummy. She always did that -- change plans at the last minute whenever I was all hyper about something, just to drive home how much control I let her have over me; I should have expected it.

We approached a big, white, wooden house with a few steps leading up to a large porch.

“How’s your twat?” Em asked out of the blue when we were in front of the entrance, and she spun around to face me.

“What do you think? It stings like hell,” I growled back at her.

“I bet you’re horny as hell too, aren’t you?”

I tried to look away, but she gripped my chin and made me look straight at her.

“You know I am,” I spat at her.

“Bunch up your skirt.”

“Fuck! Not here, Em!” The porch was brightly lit. Anyone from the street could see us. Anyone opening the door could see us! “Please! Not here!”

She didn’t even bother to look affronted. “You know the rules,” she simply told me once again in that sweet, seductive voice.

I took a few deep, shuddering breaths. I pulled up the hem my dress until my lower body was completely exposed, then hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my soaked panties. I was pretty sure their gusset was nothing but a single, dark stain by now, but Em’s grip on my chin prevented me from looking. At her nod, I pushed the panties down and let them slide to my knees, then spread my legs as far as this allowed.

She grinned, and then her hand started to rub my twat in hard strokes, up and down, pressing down hard, completely mindless of its irritated state. Tears sprang to my eyes, both from the painful, humiliating treatment and from shame over the arousal that flamed up the moment her fingers touched me. Her hand flew through my folds and my hips jerked to meet it. Her eyes bore into mine so she could catch the tiny flicker that always preceded my climax. She knew she couldn’t trust me to stop her any longer.

My short, hard panting filled the air.

A line of drool trickled down my chin. Any moment, I was getting there, the heat built and built, formed into a throbbing, pulsating well of pleasure that started to fill all of me, and…

She withdrew her hand.

The need in my twat hit me like a steam train. My hips jerked to meet empty air. Tears spilled freely down my chin, and I sniffled pathetically.

How I hated that she could reduce me to this state!

“You want to cum so much, don’t you, poor thing?” Em asked sympathetically and brushed my trembling lip gently with her thumb.

I nodded eagerly, clenching my hands that so wanted to shoot between my legs to finish what she’d started but mustn’t, and kept sniffling. “Please, please, Em, let me cum! I’ll do anything!”

“Yes, you will,” she told me with a soft smile, wrapped her arm around me, hugging me tightly to her side, and rung the bell.

Panic filled me. For a moment, all I could think of was to pull my panties up and my skirt down to get at least some modesty, even if my tears could not be hidden. But it was already too late anyway. The door swung open and my breathing stopped.

I knew the regal looking, red-haired woman in her late forties, quite well in fact, as she owned the small bakery where I shopped every day. Shame washed over me and made my knees tremble. I wouldn’t have pegged her to be a lesbian or kinky, but then, she wasn’t exactly wearing rainbow shirts or leather bodysuits at work. Now, she wore an elegant blue dress that shimmered in the light and ended just above her knees.

“This is Sally?” she asked, not trying to hide the hungry gaze that was focused on my exposed, runny twat.

“Yes, she’ll do anything. Just don’t let her cum. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. So far, in all our games, Em had never brought others into the mix, but more so, she had never before left me alone. “Em?” I asked in disbelief.

Em let go of me and stepped behind me, whispering into my ear, “You know the rules.” She gave my back a soft push and stepped down from the porch.

My heartbeat sped up with every creaking of the steps. A shudder raced through my body. Goosebumps prickled on the back of my neck. The woman -- Camille… no, Caroline, yes, that was her name -- held out her hand, and like in a trance, I took it and waddled after her into her house, half-naked as I was.

The living room was grand; dark, shiny wood made up the floor and white, contrasting perfectly with the fluffy rugs placed here and there. Large leather sofas stood in a half-circle in front of wall-high windows, and exotic paintings full of naked humans, lewd wooden statues and colorful African masks adorned the walls. Everything screamed money and debauchery.

Caroline led me to the middle of the room. “Undress me,” she said, the first words spoken directly to me.

I had to shuffle awkwardly around her, as she hadn’t told me to get rid of my panties and I didn’t dare to ask about them. My fingers trembled while I opened the zipper at her back. She made it hard for me by not moving a muscle, and I had to tug and pull and wiggle to get the dress down her body. She made me lift each sandal-clad foot to free the dress and licked her lips with hunger every time I looked up at her face.

“So you’ll really do everything I want,” she asked while I unclasped her bra.

“Yes,” I responded quietly and rubbed my thighs together. She didn’t look all bad with her slim figure and pale but freckled skin. I pulled the bra down her arm and freed her breasts -- B-cups, perhaps small Cs, sagging a little, with puffy areolas and large nipples. Her left one was a little larger than the other.

“Why?” she wanted to know, her voice becoming breathless.

“It’s a game,” I told her while I got onto my knees. My hands caressed her hips, then my fingers hooked under the waistband and I gently pulled her cotton panties down her fleshy thighs.

“A game? Really?” She didn’t believe me, but I just couldn’t care.

I threaded the panties over her shoes and finally had her naked. Soft red-blonde curls covered her pubes. Her outer lips were puffy, wide and slightly parted, and her inner ones were deeply red and swollen, glistening with moisture and dangling obscenely just level with my eyes. She had been diddling with herself, I knew the signs too well.

She turned around and walked to the nearest sofa, then sat down on its edge. “I want to thrash your bum,” she stated coldly, ”before I ravage it, that is.”

I paled. I hated spankings, but even more I hated that deeply shameful feeling of having things shoved up my bum.

We stared into each other’s eyes. My pussy twinged. Her eyes narrowed. My pussy twinged again. A shuddering sigh of resignation tumbled from my lips. I tip-toed over and laid myself across her naked thighs. Her skin felt warm. In an instant, her hand was on my bum and rubbing it.

“Mmmm,” she purred, “that feels so lovely. Emma didn’t promise too much. Do you like spankings, little slut?”

“I hate them,” I confessed.

“Perfect. Beg me to spank you, then, and make it believable.” Her middle finger dove between my cleft, slid over my clenching pucker and made me whimper in shame.

“Please,” I finally gasped out, “Caroline, please thrash my bum! Spank me until its red and swollen! Pretty please!”

“As you’ve asked so nicely…” The first swat that hit my buttock with a crack and rocked my body forward.

“Owww!” I complained, but already another spank with equal force fell on the other side. Swat after swat rained rhythmically down on my poor bum, stinging like hell and making it burn.

“Please,” I whimpered while she kept on spanking, ten, twenty, thirty swats and she didn’t seemed inclined to stop.

Then it happened. I felt the line of juice tear from my pussy and drip onto my calf. Tears shot from my eyes and I started to bawl, but Caroline kept thrashing without mercy. Her hand went slightly lower to target that soft, sensitive strip of skin where thigh met bum, and the swats became molten fire. My voice broke. More of my treacherous pussy’s honey dripped down onto my legs.

“Fuck,” she exclaimed, panting hard, and finally stopped after what had felt like hours, “that was good.”

My backside felt like it was on fire and swollen to at least twice its size. I sniffled on her lap then yelped in pure embarrassment when her hand ran through my folds and found me dripping.

“Horny little thing,” she called me, smearing my sticky secretion over my bum, then pushed me off her lap and crossed the room.

I was still drying my tears of shame when she came back with a blue, double-ended jelly cock wiggling in her hand. “Lie on the floor,” she instructed, “bum against the sofa, feet next to your head.”

It was demeaning. I had no idea what she had planned, but lying there, folded completely over with my pussy and bum exposed to whatever she desired, spilled fresh waves of shame across my cheeks. She swung one leg over me and sat down on the sofa, then gripped my hips and pulled me up until my bum was slightly higher than the cushion.

“Grip the frame of the sofa,” she growled impatiently, “so you don’t slip down!”

My hands had barely found a hold when she plunged the rubber thing inside my twat as far as it would go. God, I hurt deliciously! I moaned, and she withdrew and hammered it back inside again. The heat welled up wonderfully between my thighs.

“Yes!” I gasped.

She pulled it out and held it up against the light. My nectar coated it and clung in milky droplets to its tip. I whimpered in disappointment, but not for long.

She pushed the end against my pucker and grinned deviously. “Emma told me you hate it when she puts things in your bum. Is that true?”

“Yes,” I answered, trailing off into a sharp, long hiss when she pushed the rubber cock inside. I had no choice but to relax my sphincter as good as I could, and then the soft, thick rubber spread my starfish, a shameful, uncomfortable feeling, and I hated that my pussy clenched with pure delight. She slowly began to fuck my ass, and I felt each ridge and bump force its way through my backdoor. Each thrust went deeper and drew another moan from me.

I feared she’d try to put all fifteen inches inside my bowels, but finally she stopped. Half of the blue, sparkling dildo stood straight upwards, like a statue on a hill, a symbol of the peak of my perversions, gripped tightly by my red-cheeked ass.

Caroline swung her right leg up the sofa and positioned her ripe pussy right above the cock. Her left leg knelt down on my chest, a little painful, but then, I’d had worse.

She started fucking herself up and down, moaning and grunting, squeezing her own tits, and I was nothing but a living dildo holder to her. She quickly picked up pace. Within perhaps half a minute, she was rocking up and down like mad and gyrating her hips, and I had to grip the sofa with all my force to keep in place. Her thighs touched my still smarting bum with each downward motion, smearing it with her moisture, and the rubber bulged and wiggled inside me and kept me moaning.

Her fingers started to dance over her clit, which was the biggest I had ever seen, rubbing it furiously while her breath started to hitch. Then she froze, and a long, loud, animalistic cry came from her throat before she started shaking. Her legs kicked out, her weight suddenly rested on my bum, and we slid down into a heap, pussy and ass speared together, where she shook and moaned.

By the time the doorbell rang, she was already clothed again. She told me to wait where I was, lying on the floor, the rubber-cock still embedded in my bum. They came back in, Em’s arm draped around her shoulder, and both giggled.

Em’s eyebrow flew up when she saw me. “Nice,” she commented and walked closer, stepping around me in a half circle and admiring the embarrassing sight. “That thing in your ass fits you, as does the red color.” She bit her lip. “I might just buy you one like these and make you carry it in your ass all day when we are in our room.”

I didn’t give her the pleasure of hearing me whimper. My pussy clenched again.

“Stand up,” Em ordered, sitting on the sofa, and I scrambled to my feet as fast as the rubber cock allowed. “Time for your reward.”

Once more, I stood with trembling knees in front of her. She pushed three fingers against the entrance to my pussy and pulled back when my hips jerked forward, clucking her tongue. Caroline watched us with fascination.

“You know the rules. If you say please, I’ll make you cum, but then you’ll have to play another game. If you say no, I’ll never touch that dirty snatch of yours again.”

And by god, I hated her and whimpered, “Please?”

Why did she have to look so beautiful? She was radiant each time I said the dreaded words. Her eyes locked on mine and she pushed her digits inside me one smooth, practiced motion that took my breath away. Her fingers fucked - there is no other word - me ruthless, fast and hard. I started to moan gibberish, but Caroline’s mouth locked over mine, her tongue swirling her drool inside my mouth. I simply couldn’t care.

The heat inside my twat became a fire that burst upwards every time Em’s hand slapped against my pubes. Then all the heat condensed into a single, almost painful point. I cried out into Caroline’s warm mouth and my hips jerked like mad. Pleasure rushed all over me and took my breath away.

I came, and came, and came, held upright only by the hand between my thighs, crying tears of pure relief as my juices spurted over Em’s cruel, pretty hand.

Once I had caught my breath back, I was finally allowed to remove the hated dildo and fix my dress. I was walking on cloud nine, filled with a deep, soft, satisfying buzz and a warmth that, as experience had told me, would last for some days. I never came as hard as in our games, and always when I thought I might get used to them, Em added another kinky, cruel twist.

Like right now, when Caroline pulled a fifty dollar note from her purse and handed it to Em, who did a little imitation of a curtsy and told her, “It was pleasure to do business with you.”

“Likewise,” Caroline replied. “I really enjoyed your little whore.”

We started our way home in near complete silence, just the click-clack of heels on pavement as we walked hand in hand. The shame was still there for me, a constant coating that had become ingrained in my skin, much like a tattoo, but right now fulfillment dulled my awareness of it and made me float.

“Sally?” Em suddenly asked, her eyes thoughtful.

“Yes?”

“Wasn’t that fun? How did you like that I involved another person?”

“I hated it. Even more so because I know her from her shop.”

“So what if I managed to involve someone you know even better? One of your friends? Yes, the more I think about it, the better this sounds. Could you still look them in the eye if they saw what a kinky, perverted little slut you are?”

“Oh god, please, no! I’d die in shame!” I pleaded.

She felt my shudder through our joined hands. “You always say that,” she said with a smile, looking deep into my eyes and seeing to the bottom of my soul.

“But it’s true this time!” I gasped, which made her giggle.

“Know what?” She pinched my poor, abused bum hard, and I yelped. She spun me around and took my other hand as well. “You pick one. Make sure that she’s the one you want the least of all to know about your kinks. Make sure you’re terrified by the thought of being seen by her. I’ll try to make it happen.” She pulled me close, and her breath tickled my lips. “Do that, and you’ll earn a kiss from me.”

Oh, I hated that we both knew I couldn’t say no. I hated that the thought alone had fresh evidence of my depravity trickling moist and warm into my panties. I hated that it would take me forever to fall asleep, and that I’d squirm in churning heat, wondering all night in titillating terror whom I should pick.

“I hate you,” I whispered in her ear, “for making me love you so much.”

Her happy, chiming laughter filled the night air. My knees felt weak.