The basement

You end up going with the basement guy. He seems a little bit stronger than the other guy and manages to physically pull you his direction. Before you know it, you are making your way down the basement stairs. You are slumped in the guy's arms because you are unable to stand on your own. The **** still had a hold of you, and perhaps would for the rest of the night.

You could hear numerous voices echoing as your feet hit the cold concrete of the basement floor. Despite having no carpet, the rest of the basement was finished, so it was like another room. But, it was dark corner-to-corner. There was also a makeshift curtain sectioning the room into two. This curtain was actually just an old rug hung up by a clothes line. Behind the make-shift curtain, you heard a girl fussing. She seemed pissed.

"Hell no! I'm not some prize for your stupid game!" There were other voices too. Men. They also seemed ****. You could not make them out though.

On the side of the curtain on which you stand, there is a table. You see what appears to be a few guys playing beer pong. Their hearts do not seem that in to it though. As if, some motivation was missing. You wonder what more motivation they could want besides for beer.

You do not get far into that thought though. The girl storms through the curtain and up the stairs. You do not get a good look at her, though she looked seemed somewhat familiar. So does the guy who follows her up. One of the voices coming from behind the curtain sounds familiar too.

"Goddammit, I was the winner," the voice whined. It was sort of pathetic.

"Don't worry. I got your prize right here," the guy carrying you said. You wondered what he meant. If you had not been so wasted, perhaps you would have been able to pick up on the malice in the air. As is, you were helplessly lead beyond the curtain. You turned your head to see the guy who was whining before, but his back was to you and either the room got darker or you started to slip further towards a state of unconsciousness.

"Who is she?" Another voice said.

"Don't worry about it. She won't remember a thing. I think this one will be a little more cooperative too. But, just in case she starts to come to," the guy trails off. Your vision is completely blacked out now as the guy slips a paper bag over your head, punching a few hole for you to breath, but taping it firmly to your shoulders. "There, now she won't see us and none of you will even have to know who she was."

You soon find yourself tossed onto a mattress. You feebly try to rip the bag from your face as fear rises in your chest, but you find it nearly impossible to even bend your arms. You can only lay there in whatever position that put you in. Your muscles are like puddy due to your intoxication.

"Well. I won last game, so my turn to go first," the pathetic voice from before said. You then felt a weight on top of your body. This guy wasted no time. He pulled down your panties--to your ankles--spread your legs, unzipped, and pushed his still growing cock part way into your body.

You moaned. Not a particularly sexy moan. But a moan. Muffled by the bag. Driven by the booze. A moan that resulted in the guy's cock growing twice its size fast.

Soon, he was fucking you hard. His thrusts came fast. His grunts were low. It was nothing but bestial. There was more love in your prior ****'s motions than in this stranger.

You could not know for a fact, but it felt like the others had stopped watching and gone back to the other side of the curtain. Probably to play their game and decide who would get your next. For now, you were alone with this animal.

"Yeah. Take that, you little slut," he groaned. "I bet you love cocks, you filthy whore." He degraded you with every thrust.

Your head was spinning. You were not enjoying this one bit, but you were too far gone to struggle or to even think of how much you hated it. And your pussy was still wet from before, so the guy probably though you were getting off. Between that and the drunken moans, you would have thought the same.

Just then, you heard him say, "screw this. I want to see the look on your face as I cum inside you." He ripped your bag off, revealing your visage in all its hazy-eyed glory. You heard him scream louder than ever, "fuck!" Something was wrong. Then your vision started to unblur as your looked up at your second **** of the night. His face was instantly recognizable.