Blog : Exposure

Blogs > Desperate_Doll > Desperate Thoughts

214 posts
4/23/2020 4:54 pm

Exposure

I'm going to get you drunk, you say. I'm going to get you drunk and make you do disgusting things to entertain strangers on the internet.

You give me a tumbler filled with whiskey, which you know I never drink, and tell me to swallow it all. I grimace, but begin to drink. While I do, you set up the computer, login to the camsite and refilling my glass, you click to begin the broadcast. I feel awkward at first. It's hard to know what to do to be entertaining. It isn't clear if anyone is watching even, for a while. I begin already to feel a little dizzy. You tell me to stand and strip slowly, gradually unveiling myself for the, first one, then three, then eight or nine viewers.

I try to forget that they are there and concentrate on you, but you're enjoying my discomfort as much as my body, and keep drawing my attention back to the screen. Look, you tell me, some of the men watching are stroking their cocks looking at you. Drink this, you say, handing me something, I don't know what. Now dance around for your audience a little in your knee socks. Show them all of the useful bits of you.

And hot and scarlet with embarrassment, I do. I lick my lips, I wriggle and move my body to show them all the different parts of me available for their enjoyment. Lift your tits up so they can see them properly, you say, bounce them up and down. Turn around now, spinning your finger in a circle. Bend over, let everyone see your arse. You give it a hard smack, leaving a clear handprint. Open your cheeks, show them your arsehole. Touch your cunt now, you tell me. Show the nice people how wet you are. Show them what a desperate pathetic mess you have become showing off for them, imagining them letting you taste them.

I am dripping. My fingers slide silkily inside my cunt, smearing wetness across my thighs. I moan a little as the top of my finger grazes my clit and you laugh. You are enjoying this, you smirk, but using your fingers is too easy. You can be more entertaining than that. Your hand pushes me to the floor and you slide the whiskey bottle between my legs. Here, you say, rub your needy little cunt on this instead. While I do you hold another drink to my mouth for me to swallow. I moan losing myself in all the sensations.

You're such a disgusting slut, you say, beginning finally to remove your clothes as well. Look at you, soaked and needy just from letting these strangers see your body. Imagine how desperate you would be if they were here, in the room. I make a quiet sound, almost keening. You force your fingers into my mouth, opening it wide and spit onto my tongue. Swallow, you say, and I do. You snatch the whiskey bottle from the floor and tell me to drink directly from it now, to keep drinking until you tell me to stop.

Turning to the screen, you speak to the now many more men, and a few women, who are watching: you can see how pathetic she is, you tell them, gesturing to me with one hand. What do you want to see? You ask them. The replies are immediate. They range from the banal, have her fuck herself with the bottle until she cums, to the horrific, scratch her thighs with a pair of scissors till her blood mixes with her juices. There are too many to keep up, but you don't leap straight into any of them, instead letting me watch as the frenzy of requests floods the screen, the fear building in me of which you will choose.

Finally you scroll up the chat to show one suggestion. Its simplicity clearly appealing to you as it leaves scope for your own creativity. It just says: make her cry.

You turn to face me, my head spins and I am genuinely afraid. Come. You beckon me to kneel in front of you, framing me clearly on the screen. You want to entertain these people, don't you? You say. I nod hesitantly, looking up at you. And one of them at least, would like to see you cry. I stare mutely as the screen fills with comments from other viewers that they would like to see me cry as well, that seeing me cry would be incredibly hot, that it would make them cum so hard.

You don't want to disappoint them, do you? You say. I shake my head miserably. Good girl, you say, now beg me to make you cry, beg me to help you to satisfy the desire of all these strangers, to help you to give all these people what they want from you. I swallow and take a shaky breath. I am losing focus and you know I hate to beg. That I am so self-conscious. Sober, I wouldn't manage to do this at all. Making me cry won't take much from here.

Please, I whisper, please...

Please what? you say.

Please will you make me cry?

Why should I do that? Hmn?

Be... because they want to see me cry. Because seeing me cry will make them cum.

And you want to help them cum, don't you, silly little fucktoy?

... yes.

You want me to hurt you and make you cry so that strangers can cum watching you?

I whimper incoherently and stare at the floor.

You really are so fucking pathetic.

The first blow on the side of my face takes me by surprise, a sharp, loud crack as your palm connects with my cheek. The second and third follow swiftly after until I'm gasping with the shock, tears steaming swiftly down my face. Many more of the men on the screen are stroking their cocks now, feverish in their enjoyment of your abuse. But this isn't real crying, is it? You say. You can do better than this. You pull my mouth open and slam your cock as deeply into my throat as it will go. I splutter and gag, unprepared for this new assault.

You hold my head still and pinch my nose cutting off all my air with your hands and your cock. I try to be calm, but my head is spinning and I was close to panic even before you touched me, so it doesn't take long before I try to fight my way free. It's hopeless, of course, serving only to make you laugh, jamming your cock roughly into the back of my throat. You release me all at once and I collapse onto the floor.

You grab my arse and spin me around. If we want real tears, real sobbing, we're going to have to do more though, aren't we? Hmn? I whimper in response. Before the whiskey I would have known what is coming next and the viewers clearly do, so it is a shock only to me when you force your cock into my unprepared arsehole. I scream. The spit dripping from it helps your cock to slide into me, but it does nothing to lessen the pain. I begin to cry in earnest as you pull back and slam into me again. The audience is delighted with both your violence and my despair. Several men cum watching you destroying my arse. You speak to them while you are fucking me, over my head, ignoring my sobbing. See, you say, I knew she could do better.

Responding to something on the screen you say, hmn, yes, why not? and pull your cock roughly out of my sore and bleeding arsehole. Collecting my hair in one fist you push it into my mouth, making me gag on the taste of my arse and your head nudging the back of my throat once more. It's all too much for me, the pain, the fear, the violence, the whiskey, being watched by so many people. I slip into a little less than half-consciousness, still technically awake, but entirely without control of my body.

You jam your fingers inside my cunt and laughing show them to the viewers. Look, you say, even out of her mind, she's still desperate to be fucked. Laying me on my front, you slide your cock into my dripping cunt almost gently, sighing at its silky tightness. Gripping my hips, you pull me back and forth on your cock, a breathing, barely conscious fleshlight. The viewers, sensing that the show is nearing its conclusion, speed up their strokes, keeping pace with you. One by one they cum, some into their hands, some onto their chests or cameras, until only you and one viewer, one of the few women, are left still working toward orgasm. You lock eyes with her and cum together at once.

She blows you a kiss and you turn off the camera.

Artschoolgrad 47M