Decline his "kind" offer.

What little you do understand of his gibberish you don't trust. You can only trust one person to watch your ass...you, and lately you don't even trust yourself all that well. "Sorry, Leon, I'm not interested. And if you are getting any funny ideas just know I have a full set of teeth for biting, and I'm a lot tougher than I look!"

"Heh heh. Well you'd almost have to be. No offense, bread, and none taken." He turns and walks away, not even threatened enough to look back. You turn off the water and hurry out of the shower before any other "good samaritans" csn find you. You grab a towel to offer at least some cover and rush to grab your duffel bag from the locker room.

Instead you find eight hard scrapple scamps surrounding your locker, passing your clothes between them. "Hey! What the fuck do you bums think you're doing?! That's my stuuuuu..." the word dies brutally on your tongue as you see what they are passing between them...silk panties, water bras, short pleated skirts, and low cut blouses. They've discovered your rainy day sissy stash...and when it rains, it pours...

"Lookit the little fagget...some poor lil' rich boy tellin' from these fancy threads. Whatsamatta, girly, your daddy don't like queers? Well donchoo worry...we'll be your daddies now." The ring leader of these roustabouts advances on you slowly. He's wide and stocky, with layers of clothes caked in layers of filth. His dirty hands reach out for you and he licks his chapped lips so lecherously that spittle falls in his bushy beard. His crumbbum cohorts surround you, you want to scream but worry that anyone that heard you would only want to join in...

You feel a pair of hands grab you from behind, your towel falls to the floor in the scuffle and you are now naked, an odorous oaf holding you so close you can feel his pulse race, and his prick pulsing between your soft cheeks. "Now you just be nice, an' we won't have to hurcha. You know you want it...just lookit your lil' clit!"

You have no idea what this souse is slurring, but you look down and sure enough your dainty dicklette is rock hard and drooling at the thought of these ragged ruffians having their way with you. You can't believe how low you've sunk. You are about to be shared by gutter trash, and as gross and humiliating as the thought is, you can't help from getting turned. You find yourself grinding back on your captor's cock and writhing into the sea of hands surrounding you, but the stench and shame are almost to much, you cry out, "Please, I'll do whatever you want...but please give me a drink first!"

The ring leader seems to ponder it for a minute the brings reaches into the front of his pants and fishes out a flask from his crusty drawers. He takes a deep swig then leans in close. Oh God...he wants to share it mouth to mouth. You close your eyes, telling yourself it won't taste as bad as you imagine. You're right...it tastes worse...like eating out a dead man's ass, like making out with an ashtray made of vomit, like nothing your mind can place...but then you taste the burning hot fire of whatever bum booze concoction scorches its way down your throat. It hits you like a sledgehammer. "Gimmee nother kisssh lik thad an' ahl sugg yoo dirdy diksh."

He seems to speak drunk sissy slut fluently because soon he's sharing another mouth full of high octane hootch down your greedy gullet. You are so dizzy drunk that you don't think twice about sucking the stink off his tongue. You moan into his toothless maw and actually whimper, disappointed when he breaks the kiss. You feel filthy hands push you down to your knees and soon you're whimpering for a more urgent reason. You are surrounded by sweaty, stinky cocks and despite every remaining scrap of sanity screaming at you to stop, you just want to lick them clean.

"Whadda yoo faggesh waiden for? Lemme sukk yoo cocksh." They don't need any further invitation. You are almost floored by the stench of their unsheathed shafts, but your drunken desire is stronger than the revulsion. You start with the ring leaders crooked, wrinkled cock, running your tongue lovingly up his length before wrapping your plump lips around his bulbous head and swallowing all you can get. You bob desperately, drunkenly down his cock until the acrid stench of his balls makes your eyes water. He grabs your head and fills your throat and you shamelessly spurt on the stained concrete floor.

"My turn..." your head is pulled onto another stinking shaft, you reach out, stroking every cock with in reach, their heat seeping into you and setting you on fire. You scream inwardly, but muffle it with hard, throbbing cocks. It must have been awhile for all these tramps, because within minutes they are all shooting off, filling your open mouth and coating your supple skin until you are nearly as filthy as they are. Then they close in for round two...

"Dig in boys, we found ourselves the meat for our Mulligan Stew!" They are on you like starving hyenas, filling your hungry holes two at a time, stretching you impossibly, well past your breaking point, but somehow leaving you blissfully, blisteringly begging for more. You can't tell where their cum ends and your sissy spurts begin as you writhe in the putrid puddle. You no longer care either. You have sunk so deep that you know you will never recover, so you just want to dive deeper, and pray you never have to come up for air.

Luckily, what the drink doesn't dull, the cataclysmic climaxes wracking your tiny frame obliterate. You go mindless, moaning dumbly, drooling and diving desperately on dick after dirty dick, until you pass out from pure, passionate pleasure...