Giving it back

Lincoln looks up from you and addresses the crowd. "Alright boys, you know what to do. Get everything set up for a Grand Tournament. Standard rules..." he looks back down at you and grins. "With a little surprise twist. But first, we need to get this toy cleaned up. She's disgusting."

I am disgusting. You can't even begin to think about whatever surprise Lincoln has in store. You're still burning with shame, but along with the sick feeling of humiliation and the heat of your arousal, there's a pleasant warmth that's hard to place at first. Today has been such a whirlwind, with your whole idea of yourself being turned upside-down. But these boys, these nerds, these losers, have done something incredible to you. Beating you in your favorite game, stripping and marking you, covering you in their spit... they put you in your place.

I... I belong here. This feels... right.

Matt strolls over from the edge of the crowd, pulling off his shirt. "I know how to clean this slut up. I just came here from gym, so she can use my shirt to wipe up. Make sure to breathe deep!" He laughs at you as he tosses his shirt over your head, and you obey without thinking, pulling in a lungful of his sweat and musk. Your head spins, and you barely hear the laughter of the boys as you slowly begin to use the sweatstained shirt to wipe up the spit and cum covering your face and chest. By the time you're done, you feel almost drunk off Matt's boysmell. Looking up at him and his crooked grin, you're surprised to see his torso has some clear muscle definition, drawing your eyes across his chest and down his hips to his belt, where a light trail of hair leads from his belly button down to his concealed crotch. "Keep it, slut. You'll probably need it again soon." He gives a chuckle and ruffles your hair, making warmth rise in your chest as you tear your eyes away from his beltline and stare at the floor. What the fuck?

Lincoln loudly clears his throat. "Now, as we're all getting prepared to declare a new Champion, I believe our toy owes us something." He raises a hand to quiet the sudden chatter. "This isn't the surprise I mentioned, that will come when we're ready to start and I lay out the rules. Think of this more like an... appetizer." He reaches his hand down to you, and you take it in yours without thinking. He pulls you swiftly to your feet, and you look around at the crowd of gamers as they hungrily stare at your naked body. Lincoln continues, "We all just gave this toy a good portion of our spit to help her learn her place. Do you think she learned it?" A chorus of cheers and mocking laughter forces your eyes back down as color rises in your cheeks. "Well, we'll have to see. Because I think the first thing she can do to show us all how well she understands her position here, is to give us that spit right back!" Without warning, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your waist and grabbing the back of your head. His face is right next to yours. "Now say thank you, slut. Thank me for putting you in your place."

You pull in a shallow breath. "Th-thank you... thank you for putting me in my place." A strange warmth fills your chest as you say the words, and then your eyes grow wide as he moves his lips to yours, pressing against them and giving you a deep, forceful kiss. He clearly hasn't had much practice, but you find your own lips responding, opening and moving against his and allowing a faint moan to escape your mouth. After a few moments he pulls away, smiling triumphantly. You can feel a deep flush in your cheeks as your heart pounds in your chest. The only sound you can make is your heavy, unsteady breathing.

Lincoln looks like he wants to move in for another kiss, but instead he pushes you away. "Alright toy, get to work. Give all these nice boys their spit back, and be sure to thank them first."

You turn away from Lincoln and look at the crowd, still struggling to catch your breath. Your mind can't make sense of what's happening, but your body doesn't seem to care. Your body knows what to do. Your body knows what you are now. One unsteady step after another, you approach the closest boy, place your hands on his shoulders, and look into his eyes. He seems bewildered, confused, and definitely turned on. You take in his greasy pimples and unkempt hair, knowing deep down that you would never give this boy a second look in your normal life. "Thank you for putting me in my place." You kiss him, pushing past his awkward surprise at your touch, opening your mouth to let your spit leak between his lips, then pull away, feeling that warmth inside a little stronger.

Moving around the room, you repeat the words for each pathetic nerd in turn. Thanking them for putting you in your place, ignoring their virginal lack of skill, locking lips and swapping spit with these boys who've spent the afternoon humiliating you. Sharing this intimate act with them is doing something inside you, making that warmth in your chest grow and grow, making your words of gratitude feel truer every time you say them, pushing you to kiss them deeper, longer, using your tongue, unable to stop your moans and whimpers through each increasingly passionate kiss.

When you get to Jake, he doesn't hide how turned on your show has made him. He only stops rubbing his bulge so he can grab your tits with both hands, stroking the words "FAKE GAMER" he marked on them, squeezing them tight, making you squeak into his mouth as you kiss him. After him it's Nick's turn, and you tremble in fear as you approach him, his flat smile and shining eyes making your blood run cold. He doesn't even let you finish thanking him, his tongue plugging your mouth before the words can come out, his hands twisting in your hair, the pain sending a fresh spurt of juices down your thighs. When he's finally done abusing your mouth, he pulls your ear to his lips and whispers "you'll be all mine when this is done. Just you wait, toy."

Still shaking, you turn to the next boy, your heart dropping to see George, conflicting emotions playing across his face. That anger from before is still there in his eyes, but you can see sadness too, and an undercurrent of pure lust. As you begin to thank him, he places his palm over your mouth, silencing you. He shakes his head glumly, then moves his hand, replacing it with his lips. His kiss is gentle, sweet, making the warmth that's been building in your chest flare. Unable to help yourself, you wrap your arms around him, moaning into his mouth, wanting him to feel all the care and affection of your long friendship, wanting him to feel your gratitude for his failed attempt to stand up for you, wanting him to feel good. He finally pulls back, and you're shocked to see a single tear on his flushed cheek. He gently pushes you away. "I've been dreaming about that for a long time, RC." He looks like he wants to say more, but instead he turns away, refusing to meet your eyes.

There's only one boy left. Matt. You walk up to him, looking up past his bare chest into his crooked grin, his boysmell drawing you close. "Thank you for putting me in my place."

"Don't thank me yet, slut." He takes your hands, pulling your naked body against him, then presses your hands against his chest, moving them so you're stroking his nipples. You continue after he lets you go. "Mmm, that's right. You really do know your place." With that, one of his hands starts gently squeezing your breast, the thumb teasing your nipple, and his other hand strokes your cheek, so soft, almost like a lover. "What are you waiting for slut? Kiss me."

You can't help but obey, moving your parted, panting lips against his, a sweet moan meeting his pleased grunt as he begins to kiss you deeply, strongly, possessively. Matt isn't like the other boys. Matt knows what he's doing, deftly moving his lips against yours, nibbling you one moment and brushing softly against you the next. He shifts his hips so his bulge is pressing against your crotch, making small gyrating motions that you eagerly match. Your fingers moving over his stiff nipples make him groan hungrily into your mouth. His tongue traces your lips before slipping between them, dancing with yours as you swoon in his arms. Your moans have reached a fever pitch, and you can feel his hardness through his pants, rubbing against your slick sex and awakening another orgasm.

Before you can reach your climax, Matt pulls away, first his hands, then his lips, stepping back and giving you that same crooked grin. "Damn, Lincoln, the toy likes to tongue dance!"

Lincoln steps next to you. "Good work, toy." His words of praise add an extra layer to the warmth in your chest. He turns to address the crowd once more. "Now that we've got her all warmed up and accustomed to her role, it's time to announce the special rule. For this Grand Tournament, the winner of each round will take temporary possession of the club toy. You can use her as you wish: to please yourself, or distract your opponents. No restrictions as long as nobody's getting hurt. She'll do whatever you say." He turns to you. "Won't you, toy?"

Still short of breath from the kiss with Matt, all you can do is nod as you try to digest the information. Used as they please... passed around...

"Alright, we're just about set to begin. Nick, as the reigning Champion, you get first possession."

Your eyes snap to the monstrous nerd and his flat smile, the warmth in your chest suddenly draining away. What is he going to do to me now?