boobjobbitch:When Stephanie got back to her dorm, she was so exhausted that she had passed out imm
boobjobbitch: When Stephanie got back to her dorm, she was so exhausted that she had passed out immediately on her bed without showering, removing her clothes, or even getting under the covers. When she woke up, what she remembered from last night came flooding in like repressed memories traumatically resurfacing. The memories she would have wished to forget, were painted in streams of sticky solidified semen stuck to her face, hair, and top. Her shoulders were sore from being forced into that awkward position. She even noticed that her jaw was also feeling pain from the rough face-fucking she received. As she lay in bed piecing together memories of the night, the event in the storage closet with the Beta Zeta brothers overwhelmed her thoughts. “I was raped! They raped me!” As she realized the truth, she began to cry. She put her hand on her face to cover the tears and felt the stupidly large cock sucking lips on her face, which only made her weep harder. Her tears lubricated the dried semen coating her thoroughly botoxed face, re-liquifying some of the cum and incorporating it into the stream of tears flowing down her cheeks and onto her pillow. She tried to wipe away the cum and tears as she wept, but it only seemed to smear everything around with her makeup and make a bigger mess. Stunned, she could barely worry about the smell of stale beer, the crusty flakes in her hair, the mascara bleeding into her pillow, or the the disgusting stains on her crop top. It was all evidence of the rape and it seemed like her life was over. “What the fuck happened last night?! They raped me! They raped my face! Both of them, like I was fucking nothing! LIKE I WAS A FUCKING USELESS SEX TOY!” A stream of tears exploded like an uncorked champagne bottle and her emotions ratcheted up to maximum. “What the fuck did I just do?! What is happening to me? I ruined my life! They ruined my life! What is happening to me?” Another round of tears stronger than any before burst from her face. When she finally got the strength to get out of bed and look at herself in the mirror, the image looking back at her was even more filthy and depraved than she could have ever imagined. She wept again, “I look like a fucking slut My face is covered in cum, my tits are fucking stupid huge, and I like a goddamn slut. My hair! My Clothes! I’m a fucking cum slut! I look fucking disgusting! What the fuck did I do to myself, to my lips, TO MY TITS?!” Her tears didn’t stop until she managed to climb into a hot shower. More memories of the night flashed through her mind, but some of those memories must have just been dreams or nightmares, she told herself. Yet there was the one absolute nightmare that she could not deny, and flashes of the incident kept popping into her head, her arms being jacked up tortuously, her head being forced into a stranger’s sweaty pelvis, a dick uncomfortably crammed into her throat making her gag, semen splattering her face and men laughing. It was rape. Stephanie knew it happened to women but never thought it would be her. She used to be a good girl, and now she was just another filthy skank. She felt like she had been asking for it. She got out of the shower, trying to ignore the mirror’s reflection of her plastic face and balloon-like breasts. She got dressed in some comfy pajamas and made some oatmeal for breakfast. She tried not to think about how the oatmeal had the same runny consistency of semen. She knew she didn’t have the mental fortitude to do any of her schoolwork right now, so she turned on some reality TV on Netflix and tried to drown her mind in cinematic garbage. After an hour or so, she was beginning to stop thinking so hard when she got a text from Harry. It read, “Steph, got the electron microscope fixed. Took me all night. Going to sleep most of the day today. Will text party details for tonight. Going to be a balls-to-the-wall rager. Expect to see you there, doll. Make sure to bring those huge tits that I bought for you. I’m sure they’re hard to forget” Stephanie was desperate to see her man, Harry. He was the only good thing in her life right now. Even though he controlled almost every aspect of her life, she kind of liked it. Despite his request, she couldn’t imagine going to another party tonight. She was completely traumatized and felt all but dead inside. She was about to text back to say she couldn’t come and maybe ask Harry if they could hang out privately somewhere and talk, maybe get dinner somewhere like a real date, when her roommate Krissy finally got home. She spoke rapidly as she moved around the dorm, “Hey Steph, spent the night at Murphy’s. Got way trashed, still like crazy hungover. Sorry I didn’t text you back, Murphy was being bad, and it was like impulsive, we ran back to his room at Alpha Omega to hook up and I was like probs blacked the fuck out. I saw that your man, Harry left early and you were still there playing flip cup with those Beta Zeta brothers when we left, looking hot like you always do now. Sorry I didn’t tell you we were leaving. Horny happens that way. Hope you had fun too. Tonight is supposed to be like way crazy, maybe biggest party of the year so far. The brothers were already setting everything up at Alpha. Oh, almost forgot, got us something from Murphy that will set the night on fire. Check these out, more ecstasy. Apparently, it’s like super hard to get the good stuff. And Murphy just gave it to us for free, cause we’re awesome.” She dropped the bag of pills on the table in front of Stephanie, suddenly realizing that her roommate was uncommunicative and had her head in her hands. “You okay? Hungover much? I got a few pills, you can take one right now and it’s supposed to cure the hangover, or more like cover it up, but same difference.” Stephanie did not want to talk about what happened, so she played it off like she was just hungover. She thought of her life just a few months ago when she didn’t do drugs, didn’t have breasts implants or lip injections, and actually did her school work. She knew she couldn’t take the ecstasy; it was probably all the drugs and alcohol she had been doing the past few months that got her into the situation she was now in. Despite her clear, conscious objections, she wanted the bad thoughts to go away. Maybe the ecstasy could help her get over the trauma and she could start putting her life back together. She told herself that after this weekend, she would have to go back to being herself, getting her work done, cut out the drugs, stop partying so much, and no more plastic surgery. The drug did make her feel spectacular last time, and maybe that was just what she needed to cope with the trauma of becoming a bimbo slut and getting her face raped by strangers. How could her life get any worse than this? She silenced the voice in her head telling her to resist, pulled a pill from the small plastic bag and swallowed it with a swig of orange juice. “Thatta bitch! Woot woot! I’m jumping in too, girl.” Krissy swallowed a pill and grabbed their cheap vodka out of the freezer, taking a swig straight from the bottle. Then, without asking, she poured a few ounces into Stephanie’s glass of orange juice. “Fuck yeah, screwdriver, Bitch! It’s Friday! By the way, your new boobs are looking fucking amazing! Kinda ridiculous, but also amazing. Maybe your roomie is a little jealous.” -- source link