You make a break for it (Ending)

Looking at your assailants through teary eyes, you muster energy enough to start crawling away. If they had wanted, they could have easily prevented you, but they only chuckled as you stumbled on your hands and knees, making your way past their legs. Distancing yourself enough, you manage to grab the edge of a table and pull yourself to your feet. There are whispers coming from nearby as you grab and straighten your clothes the best you can, leaving your panties behind.

You've had enough. For you, the party was done. Boyfriend or no, you were leaving now, and so you made your way to the front door leaving everything else behind, dignity included.

You walk the streets for what seems like two hours, stumbling about in such a way that an outside observer might easily mistake you as drunk. Eventually a pickup truck pulls up next to you. You look in and see an older man, probably in his fifties, glaring out at you. "You need a lift, miss?" He asks. You just keep walking, wanting to be left alone by everyone. You'd been abused enough tonight.

Unfortunately for you, the driver had smelled the sex on you, a scent that would drive him to follow you--something you barely noticed in your current state. When he was certain no one else was around, he pulled in front of you, leaped out, and **** you into the cab of his truck. You started to thrash and scream, but to no avail.

Your boyfriend would wake up the next morning with a serious hangover. He looked around the house for you, and when he didn't find you, he asked a few people who were still about. They told him they saw you fucking two guys, pointing him to the scene of the crime where he would find your stained panties balled up on the floor. A feeling of despair washed over him. He would try calling you multiple times throughout the next couple of weeks, as would your family and friends when you never returned.

Eventually you grew used to sucking your master's cock every morning, dressing as his "pet" and screwing any one he sold you to. But now and again you still thought of your boyfriend and that party. You even thought of the men who **** you during the party. That was where your new life had really began. A couple of years later, your master would bring over a couple of familiar faces--not that they of he planned it. But that's another story...