Played like a fiddle

When the man has become satisfied that your bottom has received enough punishment, his fingertips trace down your butt crack, trailing over your butthole, and finally finding your pussy.

You wiggle your hips the fraction of an inch that your bondage will allow, trying to shoo him away, but of course it is no use.

The man wants to shove his fingers in your cunt, so in they go.

Despite no longer wishing to be treated like an object, or to feel like an object, that is exactly what is happening. You have zero agency in this interaction, and you are denied the basic privileges of looking your assailant in the eye, or being able to speak your mind to him.

Your brain is essentially locked away, forbidden from properly interacting with the external physical world.

And yet, unfortunately it still feels everything.

It’s unclear if this is the same man as before, but his technique is very similar. His fingers thrust in and out for a while, slowly working on building up your arousal.

You do not want to be aroused right now. The main emotions in your head are fury and sadness. How dare this man try to get you turned on in this, your moment of shameful defeat. How dare he plunge his nasty, perverted fingers deep inside your sensitive slit. How dare he work them in and out in a strong, unrelenting pattern, that…

Oh dear. You’re getting turned on.

No!

This is NOT fair! This is sending your brain very conflicting messages. You’re supposed to be forlorn, not horny!

But your pussy won’t listen to reason. It only knows that there’s two thick manly fingers inside it, and those fingers are making it feel good. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each passing moment, and a warmth builds within your core that begins to radiate outwards, until your whole body feels hot and bothered.

Clearly satisfied with Phase One, the man does what your pussy’s previous pleasurer did too, and curves his fingers slightly, to find that special secret internal spot near the front.

And then he blasts your socks off.

No, no, please not again!

You do not want these men to see you orgasm again. To orgasm during the competition was shameful enough, but to orgasm now, after your defeat, after your cruel spanking, when you should be nothing but livid… You’ll be exposed as a nympho slut that can’t help but melt into a puddle when any Tom, Dick or Harry ferrets his fingers inside your fairy.

But the pressure keeps building. And building, And there’s absolutely no fucking thing you can do about it.

You cum. It’s just as big as the first one, if not even bigger. Your pussy shoots out more squirt than you thought humanly possible, as if you’re some feral, nymphomaniac whore who shoots buckets of girlcum out whenever any man plays with her folds.

The men don’t even jeer at you. They just stand and applaud politely, as if this is some sort of professional stage performance.

And somehow that makes it even worse than the jeering. Coating the ground with enough fluid to sustain a small garden, while the men act as if this is the defining moment of your ‘performance’. Reducing your personality to nothing more than a sexual act.

And then the man’s fingers uncompassionately slide out of your hole, leaving you feeling drained, and even more defeated than you did when you found out that you lost the challenge.

Perhaps now they’ll finally let you go home.