Chapter 36: Raising Hemlines, Lowering Walls

Wednesday morning was a punishment.

I woke to the taste still coating my tongue. No amount of brushing, no mouthwash, no toothpaste could scrub it away. The sour, metallic tang of urine and unwashed skin and that deeper, fouler note I couldn’t name. I brushed my teeth three times. Gargled more. Drank a glass of orange juice that tasted like nothing but the memory of what I’d swallowed.

Every muscle ached. My jaw throbbed from being pried open for two hours. My throat was raw, scraped hollow by cocks that had been in my ass moments before they’d been in my mouth. My pussy felt bruised, swollen, a deep grinding soreness that made sitting unbearable. I spent the morning standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, pretending I was fine.

My mother chattered about her garden. My father hid behind his newspaper. They didn’t notice the way I flinched when I moved. Didn’t see the redness around my lips or the shadows under my eyes.

I went back to my room and didn’t come out.

The day crawled. I lay on my stomach, staring at my phone, reading the same sentence over and over without comprehension. The taste wouldn’t leave. I could still feel the weight of those men on top of me, the sour breath against my face, the grime of their hands gripping my hips.

But underneath the horror, something else pulsed.

I survived.

I’d taken five homeless men in all three holes. I’d swallowed cum from cocks that had just been in my ass. I’d drunk a stranger’s urine because I’d decided I wanted to be brave, and being brave meant not stopping.

Wednesday night at 10:27, I opened my laptop.

The chat room loaded. The cursor blinked. And there he was, already waiting, his name glowing green in the user list.

ProfessorPleasure: I’m surprised to see you online tonight. How did things go at Carl’s yesterday?

I stared at the screen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. The words felt too big, too heavy, too raw to type.

CuriousBlonde18: I did it. Tuesday night. I went to Carl’s and did a gangbang.

ProfessorPleasure: How many men?

CuriousBlonde18: Five. But it wasn’t what I expected.

ProfessorPleasure: Explain.

I took a breath. The memory surfaced, sharp and vivid.

CuriousBlonde18: Carl warned me. He said Tuesday men are rougher. I didn’t listen. I told him I wanted it anyway.

ProfessorPleasure: And?

CuriousBlonde18: They were homeless. Five homeless men. They smelled like they hadn’t bathed in months. Their clothes were stained and torn. Their hands were cracked with dirt under the nails. One of them had missing front teeth. Another had a gray beard that reached his chest, tangled and matted with who knows what.

The three dots pulsed. I imagined him leaning forward, hungry for more.

ProfessorPleasure: Describe the smell.

My stomach turned. But my fingers moved.