Text her filth until she can't stand it

"Give me your phone number" you say, your mind racing with potential ideas. But you settle on one that almost seems innocent by comparison. Start slow, you think, start slow and work your way up to the wild stuff.

"Okay" Bethany answers as if she was born to obey you. She eagerly sends you her number, curious about what comes next.

Even though you're starting slow, you suspect your plan will work just fine for her. "Now go back where you belong. Go back to work." you say watching her face fill with disappointment. "And whatever you do, resist the urge to touch yourself like a bad girl." You add.

Bethany smirks.

You watch her return to work, and then find a spot around a corner, nearby, and send your first text.

"The biggest whore on planet deserves respect. But ur not her." You hit send.

"Ive seen all of ur videos lots of times. Theyre hot but not that impressive." You send again.

"Fr ex. How many people you see every day at work?" Send

"How many of them have u fucked?" Send

"How many of their friends and family have u fucked?" Send

"Do u even know how many cocks u can take at 1 time?" Send

"Should be: 2 in your ass, 2 in your cunt, 2 in your mouth, 1 between your tits, 1 in each hand." Send

"If u cant do that. ur not a respectable whore" Send.

You hear her groan loudly, as if she's trying to suppress a word. "mmmfffuuuuu". It motivates you to keep going.

"But thats ok. We can fix that. But 1st thing we have to give you new name." Send

"Bethany is clearly a prude's name. From now on u can go as Fuck Doll" Send

"Fuck Doll the whore" Send

"Fuck Doll the whore" Send

You hear someone next to her speak up. "Are you okay Bethany?"

Something is happening you wish you could see. But her answer gives you a clue. Again in the form of a loud moan. "GgggggffffmmmmFuck Dollrrrrr"

And you hear a commotion and suddenly see her running. Everyone around notices. This is nuts. This is really happening.

She makes it about ten steps and then collapses on the ground, crawling over to the nearest wall and propping herself up, back against it, knees together, fists pushing into the ground. She's ****. She's trying so hard not to fiddle with herself.

People are staring. But you sense that they have no idea what's going on. Do they suspect anything? Do they see what you see? Do they notice the massive wet spot on her crotch?

Bethany closes her eyes. She pants heavily. Her b-cup breasts heave up and down. It appears that she's going to lose this battle. That she's going to give in to the needs of her slutty twat.

You still can't believe you're watching this, thinking these things about Bethany. Reality seems no longer defined by limitations.

More people start to stare. They're going to go home to their friends or partners and tell them this story about the strange thing that they saw today.

And you wonder. Can you run up to Bethany and help without giving away your part in this scene? Can you grab her and pull her outside and say that you're going to give her help, without it being obvious that this is all your fault? Her knees part slightly. She's succumbing.

After all, she doesn't have to be humiliated in front of all these people? Does she?