Revenge Porn

It took a while for me to find myself and a purpose in life. Because of this, well into my early twenties I did various things for money, some legal and a few shady. In New York in the late 90's, I was a goth looking twink with a smooth body, dyed black hair, and a ridiculous amount of eyeliner. My outfits frequently looked like something from a Tim Burton movie. Often, I'd be in long striped socks, tiny black leather hotpants, a wife beater, and Doc Martens. Even in winter the outfit stayed the same, but with a grey military coat I'd gotten from a resale shop in Jersey City.

My best nights for making money were Fridays. I'd sit at a downtown club until a closeted man from New Jersey offered to buy me a drink. To them I was something exotic, skinny, feminine, but with a cock. I'd let them buy me a drink, not because I was thirsty, but to make sure they were the right kind of man to unleash my evil upon. I was looking for someone who still lived with his parents, most likely Catholic, and, most importantly, had cashed his entire check before coming into the city for a night of fun.

Once I saw a wad of cash, the game was on. I'd talk while I chewed on the ice in my drink and took a few sips making it look like I'd drank a lot more than I had. I'd giggle and coo, rub up against him, get him uncomfortably hard in his designer jeans his mother had ironed a crease into, and then suggest going to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I'd suck his dick until he came, which with most of these men, didn't take but a second. I'd always show them the load in my mouth, pushing a bit out to run down my chin and then swallow the rest. What can I say, straight men love watching their cum disappear into an orifice.

It was at this point, awash in DNA evidence, when I'd switch up the situation and go from submissive little sissy to raging dominant cunt. I'd interrupt whatever trite little thought of 'thank you' or 'that was amazing' by telling them I needed some money. Some would offer a twenty or a fifty-dollar bill, figuring the blow job was worth it, but some would just be like, 'sorry bitch, I already came.' It didn't matter, I'd always hold up my high school ID (a fake) and tell them I needed more, or I'd go to the police with all this evidence I had in and on me.

They all had the same look of anger and fear come over them and they all handed over a wallet of cash. The ones who offered up money in the beginning, I'd always leave with a hundred dollars to get home and buy lunch until their next payday, but the ones who offered nothing, I took everything. Then I'd walk out, ask the bouncer to turn the light on for a cab, and then I'd disappear into the night.

I know, it was a shitty thing to do, but a girls got to eat, and New York rents don't come cheap.

I replayed the scenario once every two weeks, sometimes more if I was light on tuition money. It never dawned on me, in this unconnected era of history, that a website for gay cruising, a new invention, would be my undoing. Without my knowledge at the time, a guy had posted about his experience with me. And then another. And then another. In the end, there were twelve men on this cruising site who talked about me in a thread garnering thousands of views. Readers thought the stories were hot, but the authors had other strategies in mind.

One night, I walked my twenty-four-year-old self into a club and spied my mark for the evening. He was in his late twenties, Italian, wearing a black button-down shirt and light washed blue jeans. He sat at the bar and, in the mirror behind the bar, I saw his eyes follow me to a purple velvet sofa. It was late May and I had opted for wearing my traditional striped thigh high socks and Doc's with a Catholic school skirt, a tight cropped patent leather tank, and a cropped grey hoodie. When I noticed him staring at me, I let my shoulder length hair down and uncrossed and recrossed my legs, letting him get a good look at the fact I wasn't wearing anything under the skirt. He sauntered over and sat next to me.

"Hey, I'm Bobby."

"I'm Eric."

He squeezed the bulge under his jeans. "Fuck man, you're making me hard."

A girl carrying a tray full of shots came over an announced herself. "Can I interest you in a blowjob?"

Bobby looked confused.

"The shot, it's called a blowjob."

"Oh! I got my beer, but my friend would take one."

He opened his wallet to pay and showed off about seven hundred dollars in cash. The girl handed it to me.

"Come on, all in one gulp," Bobby said with all the enthusiasm of a frat boy.

I downed the drink and smiled. "Well, you got me a blowjob, how about I get you one?"

"For real?"

"Yeah."

I led him into the last remaining stall in the bathroom. Judging from the noises emanating from the other three, other people had the same idea, but perhaps with different intentions. I turned around to lock the door and then I felt Bobby's hand over my mouth. I could feel my legs give way as the world went blurry and then black.

I woke up in pitch black. I was naked on my back with my ankles and wrists restrained. From another room the faint thump of a base line echoed. In the midst of trying to free myself I realized whatever I was on swayed with my movement. I felt something restraining my cock and balls. I also felt a weird empty sensation inside, as if I'd been professionally cleaned out. Fear quickened my pulse and my breathing. I started counting my breaths to gain some sense of time passing and control my anxiety. I knew my long inhale was eight seconds with an exhale to match. It worked. Occupying my brain with multiples of eight and paying close attention to the quality of my breath made me almost forget about my precarious situation.

Suddenly the music became clear for a moment and then back to muted. A few footsteps, the sound of curtain rings on a steel rod, and then the room filled with blue and red light alternating around the room.

Bobby held up my real ID. "Twenty-four? Not seventeen. Did you know you're somewhat famous? At least in certain circles."

I was half listening and half getting my bearings. The room was covered in upholstered leather on the walls and the ceiling and there was a black curtain obscuring the door.

"Yeah, I'm twenty-four. What about it?"

"Seventeen-year-old Eric could have put people in jail, but twenty-four-year-old Eric could be put in jail. You were easy to find thanks to using your real name and the real month and date of your birth."

It was an old trick I had employed as a teen on fake ID's. It was much easier to remember everything on the ID if the only thing you changed was the year. For years bouncers tried to trip me up with questions to no avail.

"So kidnapping and wrongful imprisonment isn't against the law?"

"Kid, I'm a cop and nobody knows where the fuck you are. Do you know how many people disappear in this city. Just, poof, and they're gone? Especially some skinny little faggot dressed like a little girl. Nobody gives a shit about you right now." He must have been able to see the fear spark in my eyes. "Yeah, you should be scared bitch."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Well, out of the guys we know you scammed, we figure the amount somewhere around twenty thousand dollars. Some guys lost cars, had to take roommates, had to move back in with their parents, you fucked up a lot of guys lives. We figure you don't have the money anymore, but we wanted to fuck with your life in the same way."

"We? How do you know each other?"

"The internet is great for people throwing anonymous scenarios out into the ether and getting a reply. Your look is pretty distinct. Once one guy posted in a forum about what you did, other guys found it. So far there's twelve of them and one reached out to me to find you."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"We thought about just killing you and dumping you in a river, but then you don't learn a lesson, and everyone is still out their money. Nobody wanted to wait for you to pay that kind of money back, we figured if this is how you treat people, you're bound to end up dead soon. Instead, we're going to play a game of Russian Roulette."

"Then why am I in this contraption?"

"We're playing Russian Roulette with your ass. Speaking of which, we stopped off on the way here to give you a colonic, so you should be good to go for at least the first part of the weekend."

"The weekend?"

"Yep. It's 11:30 now so you got all day tomorrow and all-day Sunday. I'll let you go first thing Monday morning."

"Where am I?"

"You're in lower Manhattan, both in location and elevation. It's the basement of a bar."

"What's going to happen?"

Bobby reached behind the curtain and retrieved a clipboard with a paper on it. "First, I need you to sign this. It acknowledges you're being filmed and okaying distribution. Oh, and also waving any compensation." He placed the pen in my hand and held the clipboard so I could sign. "We think you've already been paid up front in a way."

"And if I don't sign?"

Bobby held up his badge, "I use this and take you in for fraud and prostitution. Technically, you did get paid for sexual favors."

"But this could ruin my life."

"Too fuckin' bad bitch. Should have thought about that before you rolled a bunch of guys for their cash. Sign it."

I signed the form as best as I could, and he snatched the pen away from me. "So, how does the roulette part come into play?"

"Ah yes, this part you may not like. You are doing a bareback film. Basically, any guy will have the chance to fill out a release and be a guest in your debut film. Already got over twenty completed releases and that's before I put out an online ad. So, by the end of this forty-eight hours, you could very possibly have any number of sexual diseases. Good luck selling that ass as seventeen after this. Oh, and the cage is my little joke. You're an asshole and until I say otherwise, just an asshole. Speaking of which, you won't need that mouth for a while. Open up." Bobby inserted a small dildo into my mouth and secured it with a strap around my head; then he disappeared behind the curtain, and I heard the door open and shut.

I could feel tears streaming from the outside corner of my eyes and soaking into my hairline. Every dream for myself started to blur.

I didn't have time to wallow in self-pity for long, soon the door opened, bright lights came on, and many men entered the room. This must have been the first group he'd gotten releases for. They all looked rough and all donned typical leather bar clothes. Leather vests, jeans, leather pants, boots, leather military looking hats, a few harnesses. They were followed by a man with a camera with a very bright light on it.

The first one looked like the epitome of a poz top, skinny with a swollen belly and sunken face. "Bobby said you needed to be taught a little lesson, looks like you got twenty teachers," he looked around the room at the many cocks being brought out into the light, "looks like you're gonna be taught a big lesson tonight." They laughed at the joke. "Anybody got any lube on them?" Everyone shook their head, and one guy offered a bottle of poppers. "Well, I guess it'll help a little." He swiped a little precum off my caged cock. "Oh look, she produces her own."

The man wiped it on my dry asshole and stuck a rough finger in me, making me wince. "Damn, this might be a virgin." He spat on his cock and pressed the head against my asshole then looked around the room. "Easy or hard?"

A tall black guy answered, "Bitch be scammin' guys out of money and not offering up that ass. I say we go hard and really teach this bitch a lesson."

"Hard it is then."

He opened the bottle of poppers under my nose, and I had no choice but to inhale. I went lightheaded and my heart started to race as the poz top pushed his entire cock into me and immediately started rapidly fucking me. Tears ran from my face as I cried at the rough cock rubbing away my insides. "Damn! I'm not gonna last long in here."

A white daddy bear said, "What's to say you can't have a round two in there?"

They high fived as the poz top pounded in my ass. The men closed the circle around me, and a feeling of frenzy took over as they egged him on to fuck me harder and harder. Even with the poppers, my virgin ass screamed in pain. The chains holding up the sling rattled adding to the excitement. His jackhammer pace suddenly stopped as he screamed out and I could feel him unloading his toxic spunk into me.

He pulled his cock out of me. "Bobby said he left a special cum rag in here for us."

From a corner of the room my plaid skirt flew at him. "Aw, is this your wittle skirt bitch?" He laughed and wiped his cock off.

The black guy entered me next and stretched me even wider than the poz top. I screamed into the gag and tears of pain dripped down my face. "Poor little white bitch can't handle all this dick." He pounded at the same frenetic pace as the previous cock in me had and dripped sweat all over me with every thrust. Before long I felt his cum enter me. "Fuck yeah! I got to come back on Sunday and try this out when it's not so fucking tight."

Over and over men fucked me, came, and wiped their cock off with my skirt. At around the sixth guy, a ginger with a big mushroom head and a massive PA, something changed in me. I was getting into it. Occasionally my mind would stray to the fact I was probably poz now, but then a load of cum would get released in me and wash that thought away. It was at this point I decided to enjoy it, what was done was done. My hole was slowly getting used to taking cock after cock and I started to wonder if maybe this film might be an avenue for a different career choice. A different dream.

Guy number fifteen was huge. The tallest of all the men and also the most muscular, he flopped his giant cock onto my stomach. "Look at how tiny her little caged clit is next to my monster!" He too slammed into me like the other men, but even though I was used to cock by now, I screamed into the gag again. He opened me up in ways no other cock had yet and pressed into my insides in areas nobody had been yet. When the pain subsided, the ecstasy took over and soon his thrusts made my cock erupt in the cage.

A man on the sideline saw it and yelled, "Add the cunt's cum to the mix!"

The giant man pulled his cock out of me, rubbed my cum all over it, and shoved it back in. Soon, I felt his jets of cum firing off inside.

When they had all taken a turn or two, the group left, and Bobby came back. He felt my hole. "Damn, that's starting to feel like a pussy." He held up the skirt the men had left on my stomach. "Looks like this is gonna need a washing when you get home." He laughed as he took the gag out of my mouth. "How you doing?"

"Sore."

"I bet. Next group will be here in about half an hour. You're lucky, it's fleet week and some sailors are fine with being in our little film as long as we don't use their faces. I just need to adjust a couple of the static cameras. Stan, the cameraman, will be back with the next group. He's doing short interviews with your tops."

"What time is it?"

"It's not Monday morning. Keep asking stupid questions and the fucking gag goes back in."

He made his last adjustment and stood facing my spread legs. "They sure did some damage." He pulled a mop from behind the curtain and wiped up all the cum on the floor under my ass.

"I think I need to pee."

He grabbed a towel from behind the curtain and packed it around my cage. "Pee." Bobby then walked to the head of the sling and lowered my head until it was hanging off and even with his crotch. My piss trapped in the towel felt warm. Bobby picked it up, used a wet wipe to clean the piss off and then went to leave. "Enjoy your break." The lights went back to a dim blue.

Before I knew it, the door opened, and bright lights came back on. A group of ten twenty-something guys with amazing bodies encircled me with their frat boy energy. Stan poked his camera in, getting different angles of the action.

A hairless bald man with only slightly more muscular ripples than tattoos stood near my ass and started inserting fingers. Within the half hour my ass had swollen tight from all the previous trauma, so the sailor's finger felt like hot pokers. "Hey Mark, you should go first before the rest of us stretch this bitch out for your microdick."

"I'm average," Mark replied.

"For a fucking toddler maybe."

Mark was a wholesome looking skinny guy, probably younger than me, with chestnut hair, perfectly smooth washboard abs, and a tattoo of a rooster on his left bicep. He stuck a finger in and cum from the previous session oozed out. "Bitch is wet."

"Come on and fuck him, we got to get back on board soon," the bald man yelled. He was clearly the alpha of all these alpha males.

Mark was a good starter cock for the group. His lack of dick and my puffy sore ass all worked together to give us both a good time. After a few minutes I found myself telling him to go harder. Looking around the room at guys stroking much bigger cocks made my ass grow hungry for something more substantial. I started begging him to cum so the next guy could take his place. Soon his balls emptied into me with a whiny grunt from their owner.

The bald leader was next inside me. His overall physical thickness expanded all the way to the end of his cock. His dick started off with a small head and then quickly expanded into a baby arm. He used Mark's cum to ease his way in and wasted no time getting up to speed inside me. He laced his fingers behind my neck and, using the momentum of the sling, slammed his cock into me. I was so turned on my own cock was pressed firmly into all the available space in its cage. He felt so good using my hole, I was almost a little disappointed when he came.

The two skinny black guys in the group did a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to see who would use my ass next. As the one stretched my ass with his cock, he motioned towards my head to his friend, "Nothing says you can't use the bitch's mouth to start."

He pulled my head back and pushed his long brown cock into my throat. I choked and gagged on the mammoth meat. "Looks like he needs that throat trained."

One of the other guys noticed something hanging on the wall. "This looks like it might help with throat training."

The guy in my throat reached back as somebody handed him a wide black rubber ring. "Open up bitch." The ring ended up being more of a grommet and it fit in between my upper and lower teeth and stretched out the sides of my mouth, making me resemble a goth blow-up doll. He replaced his cock in my throat. "Fuck yeah, I can really feel that bitch working my piece with his throat." I continued to sputter and spit as his cock invaded my esophagus. A thick layer of spit and mucus ran up my nose and all over my face as he continued to fuck my mouth without any regard for my discomfort. With all the trauma occurring in my throat I almost forgot about the big black cock using my hole until he unloaded a massive amount of cum.

When he was done the black guy in my throat took over my ass and a hairy olive-skinned man took over my throat. This would be their routine as the rest of the men used my body to masturbate. It easily took over an hour, but they all completed their task in me and left me a mess at both ends with my skirt wet and slimy sitting on my stomach.

Bobby entered after they left. "God damn! Smells like cum in here. How you holding up?"

"I need to piss, and I could probably use a wipe down."

"Sounds like a plan. You got a two-hour window before the breakfast group."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah, the rest of the leather group that started you off wants to use you for their cum dumpster this morning."

He slid me off the sling. "Follow me to the wet room."

Stan and I followed him through the curtain and into a dark hall. To the right he unlocked a door and flipped on a single flickering fluorescent tube. He handed me two towels and a washcloth. "Try to smell like less of a whore when I come get you. When you're clean, feel free to take a nap." He pushed me into the room and locked me in. For a moment I wondered why Stan didn't come in with me, but I could see the glowing red LED's of six camera's at different angles around the bathroom.

The tiny, tiled room had a sink with a cold tap, a toilet with no seat, a shower stall with no curtain, and a mirror made out of polished steel on the wall. I pissed and then turned on the shower, eventually realizing, I was not ever going to get any hot water. I dipped my body into the freezing water and then jumped out and soaped up my body with a sliver of green soap left on the floor, then rinsed off with another quick dip. The only place the icy water felt good was on my hole. I stood with my head leaned against the wall and my hands pulling my ass apart. It was like putting ice on a sore muscle after a hard workout. The chill of the water became too much for me to bear and I turned it off and dried myself.

The polished steel mirror gave everything a hazy blur. I didn't even recognize myself at first. Like the men had fucked my soul out of me. The light flickered a few times and then shut off, leaving me in darkness. I felt around and found my unused towel and wrapped it around me for warmth. My skinny body and the hard tile were at odds with one another as I fell asleep using my arm for a pillow.