Frat party

"F-frat?" you gasp, feeling weak with desire. "Party?"

"Sure, you can party with the boys," he grins, sliding a finger inside your shorts and over your slit. Your legs nearly buckle at the sensation, and you thrust your hips forward for more.

"Come bang the boys like you know you want to, slut," he says softly, but not so softly that the camera on the cell and a couple of neighbors can't hear.

"Y-ess," you hiss, humping towards him. His finger disappears, and you struggle to free your hands, but its like the people holding them have mistaken them for the pole, and instead your hoodie slides down your body, showing bare shoulders before they stop, only your nipples keeping the fabric from flaring open to reveal your naked upper body. The thought just adds to your craziness, and your hips thrust forward, seeking something to fuck.

"Tell me you want to be fucked."

"Please..."

"Tell me."

"I... I want to be fucked. I need to be fucked."

"Do you want the frat to fuck you?"

"Y-yes..."

"Then say that you want to fuck the frat," he shrugs with a smile. "We want to make sure you're a willing little tramp before we waste our cum on you."

A part of you understands the words, maybe even flinches at the degradation, but a larger but of you welcomes it, thinking of all the dicks you missed out on last night because Jacob... because Jacob...

"P-please, please fuck me. I... I wanna bang the frat. All of them. Any way they want. I'm just, I'm so horny, my... my cunt wants you all."

"Well then come on," he says, grabbing the front of your shorts and pulling up and forward, driving the bottom seam of the shorts up into your pussy like a wedge, making you groan at the pressure it puts on your clit.

Magically the hands behind you let go, freeing your hands. Before you can rush your hands to your slit the sleeves are pulled, yanking the hoodie off your shoulders but not all the way down. You feel hands tying the right sleeve around your left wrist, and the left sleeve around your right wrist, keeping your hands tied behind your back as you stumble forward off the bus.

Like a tog on a leash he pulls you forward, letting the shorts pull up against your clit to make you move forward, releasing the pressure whenever you slow.

"P-please..."

"Would you agree that you're a slut?" the guy asks conversationally.

"Yes yes!" you exclaim when the pressure slackens. He pulls the shorts up into your pussy in reward, and you groan in thanks.

Around you guys grin at your reaction, guys you hadn't noticed on the bus and notice even less now.

"A dirty girl? I love a girl who talks dirty," the man grins, but your eyes are blurry, seeing nothing, only feeling the slackening of the shorts.

"Y-yes, I'm a cock-sucking whore, a dirty little tramp. J-just pound me, please!"

Laughing, he yanks hard on the shorts, and you stagger forward, squeaking as a mini-orgasm shoots through you, wetness spotting the bottom of your shorts.

"Keep walking and you'll get all sorts of cock stuffed in every hole," he promises, his words driving your feet to increasingly quick steps, the pressure on your pussy never lessening.

One of the guys pulls out a phone and calls ahead, saying something about 'party', 'meat', and 'cameras', but you're too deep in your lust to notice. You barely notice when you walk up steps and through a door into a place smelling of mold, semen, socks and dirty underwear.

A banner proudly proclaims:

Sigma
Lambda
Upsilon
Tau

In spite of it being in front of you your mind doesn't comprehend the words, scrambled by your lust.

"Drink this so you don't dehydrate on us," a guy says, handing you an open can. You down it without hesitation, barely tasting it.

"Hey, that hoody's the same colors as our college's rival, Losier College," one of the guys comments, and their eyes narrow in displeasure.

Flickering to life your mind starts to wonder if something's wrong.