wake up

Lisa’s eyes fluttered open.

Every muscle in her body screamed. Her bladder felt like it was about to burst and a heavy, urgent pressure throbbed deep in her ass — she needed to piss and shit right now. But she didn’t move. Not yet. First came the slow, hazy check-in.

Where the hell am I?

She cracked her cum-crusted eyelids just a little. Through the sticky blur she saw her own familiar ceiling and the big framed picture of Lukas smiling down at her.

Good… I’m in my own bed.

The taste hit her next — thick, bitter, disgusting. Old cum mixed with sour yogurt coated her tongue and the inside of her mouth like a disgusting crust. She coughed weakly and spat a thick, stringy glob onto the already ruined sheets. Her jaw and throat ached like she’d been sucking cock for hours. A deep muscle burn pulsed in her neck and cheeks.

What the fuck happened?

The last thing she remembered was the lingerie party… the glory hole… three thick cocks sliding down her throat… then shots of strong liquor. After that — nothing. Just flashes. Bright camera lights. More cocks. A shower. An absurd, endless line of men jerking off and spraying… No. That had to be a dream. A filthy, impossible dream.

But the smell… God, she reeked of cum. Her skin was sticky, her hair matted. She felt strangely horny, but it wasn’t the good kind anymore — her pussy and ass were raw, swollen, and sore.

Her hand moved on instinct. She found the small vibrator still buzzing steadily inside her sloppy cunt and pulled it out with a wet, obscene sound. Then her fingers brushed against something heavy and sticky lying right under her chin. She looked down. One of her own fat dildos rested across her chest, the head pressed against her lips, still glistening with old cum and yogurt. The smell was coming from there. With a groan of disgust she grabbed it and hurled it across the room.

Okay. Inventory time.

I had sex. I sucked cocks. I obviously used my dildos and made a complete fucking mess.

She pushed herself up on shaky arms and looked around. The movement made her swollen belly slosh uncomfortably. Her eyes finally focused — straight into the glowing red light of the camera on the tripod at the foot of the bed. The lens was pointed directly between her spread legs, filming her naked, cum-stained body in full HD.

Her heart skipped.

She grabbed her phone with trembling fingers. Thirty missed calls from Jan.

What the hell? It’s only 8 a.m…

Confused, she opened the livestream app. The camera feed was still running. A small counter in the corner showed that people were still online — watching.

Lisa stared at her own image on the screen: completely naked, mask back on her face, belly still slightly rounded, pussy puffy and glistening, the writing on her stomach clearly visible.

Her eyes widened in horror as the full realization crashed over her.

“What… the fuck… is going on?” she whispered hoarsely, voice cracking.

In pure panic Lisa lunged forward and kicked the tripod hard. The camera crashed to the floor with a loud clatter, but the red recording light stayed on. Now it filmed everything from a crazy, tilted angle — her feet, the ruined bed, and her naked body from below.

She ripped the disgusting green mask off her face and threw it into her lap.

Thank God… nobody saw my real face, right?

She looked around the room in confusion. Empty yogurt cups, the huge enema pump still half-full of a disgusting white-yellow mix, two cum-covered dildos, scattered clothes everywhere.

Did I really throw some kind of cum-and-yogurt party on livestream? Why are my clothes lying around like that? Did I do a fucking fashion show in front of the camera?

She stared at the mask in her lap again.

At least I was responsible enough not to take it off… Good girl, Lisa.

Her bladder and bowels were screaming. On shaky legs she staggered to the bathroom. The fallen camera only caught her feet, but the microphone picked up every single sound as she sat down and emptied her guts in loud, wet, endless gushes. She had no idea what was pouring out of her.

When she came back she noticed the big anal pump on the nightstand.

Did I really… Where the hell did all this stuff come from?

For the first time she looked properly in the full-length mirror.

She looked absolutely wrecked. Her pussy was swollen, red and puffy. Her jaw ached, her throat felt raw, her asshole throbbed. Her skin was still sticky in places, and the filthy messages written across her belly were still clearly visible — along with several phone numbers.

Should I actually call one of these “lovers”?

Her phone rang. It was Jan. She stared at the screen but couldn’t bring herself to answer. She simply couldn’t speak yet.

Instead she dragged herself into the shower and stayed under the hot water for over an hour, scrubbing herself raw. When she finally stepped out she still smelled it — that unmistakable sharp scent of old cum. Even her new expensive shampoo smelled strangely familiar… almost like cum.

(Author’s Note: Oh Susi, did you really mix cum into your cosmetics?)

Wrapped in her soft bathrobe she sat back down on the edge of the ruined bed and tried to reconstruct the night.

She had finally had sex. Real sex. Lots of it.

For the first time in her life she felt truly fucked, used, and strangely… satisfied. Sore everywhere — but also deeply, deeply happy.

(Author’s Note: Maybe it’s all the hormones in the sperm?)

She picked up her phone again to finally call Jan — and froze.

The date on the screen read Monday.

The party had been on Saturday night.

She had lost an entire day.