Every party has a buzzkill.

You slip into a skimpy red rubber dress that fits you like a second skin. Emma packed it 'just in case' you both your outfits got drenched in cum. You would have said that was an odd prediction for your part this morning, but hindsight being 20/20, you can't see how it could have ended up either way. Emma pulls an identical dress over herself, struggling as much to fit her breasts in the low cut neckline without spilling out as you did trying to smuggle your cantalopesque ass in the high cut bottom.

You feel an odd sense of paradoxical pride as you check out Emma and yourself in the mirror and realize you are some of the sexiest sluts at the party. You find a confounding confidence welling up inside you, knowing you have finally found a way to deal with even the most belligerent bully, even if it is on your knees. You wrap your pretty pinky around your sweet sister's and follow Brad downstairs, basking in the attention you arouse as the entire party watches the replay of your suck and fuck session upstairs playing on the theater size screen in his media room.

Something tells you that you should be mortified, and you definitely feel the usual full body blush and dizzying vertigo you always get when publically humiliated. This time is different, however. Now you aren't the object of raunchy ridicule, but the subject. You have a say in your own deliriously deviant debasement, and so far, you have enjoyed every second of it. Instead of hating yourself for what you aren't...tough, studly, big, and mean, you are learning to love yourself for what you are. You are surrounded by a crowd ranging from the congratulatory and craving to the contemptuous yet curious. With Emma at your side, you feel confident you can meet all contenders 'head' on.

But every party has it's pooper. "There you are, slut!" You turn, assuming the gravely, gruesome growl is directed at you, only to see a seven foot tall stunner yank Emma towards him. He looks a little older than the rest of the party goers, with a kind of world weary wrath in his blazing eyes and a stony sadism in his clenched lips. He would be handsome if he weren't so horrifying, or is it the other way around? You feel your slutty swagger draining as he drags your twin away. Without considering the consequences you grab at Emma's arm and try to pull her back. She doesn't budge, but the tall, dark hearted stranger notices the slightest tension and spits venomously, "Slut, tell this faggot what I do to bitches that stand in my way. If he wants to come with us, he does it crawling like the inhuman piece of filth he is. If not, he better let go of your arm before I break it, and then him."

Emma looks at you hopelessly, her eyes both begging you to save her and to save yourself. She pulls you in close, whispering, "You have to let me go, Ella. James isn't like any bully you've met before. He's a college boy I met on fetlife that took things way too far. Everytime I try to get away he finds me and hurts me worse. No one will stop him from taking me. They all think I'm a stupid slut that secretly likes getting tortured half to ****...and maybe they're right. It's all I deserve anyway. But you are still innocent...mostly. Stay here, James hates sissies, and he will hurt you worse than he's ever hurt me."

James tires of your hushed huddle and backhands you a foot away. You stare up as a crowd forms to watch what happens next, but makes no effort to intervene. James towers over you, his face gravid with ghoulish glee. "What did I tell you, faggot? You can run away like the cowardly cunt you are. Crawl behind your slut hole sister and share her punishment. Or..." his smile widens and gleams like a knife unsheathed, "you can stand up to me and see what happens."