This is fiction. It’s not from my perspective.
“Ow! Fuck! Oh god what the hell?! I feel like I’ve run a marathon… how much did I…ugh, I feel sick!”
My eyes opened to the bright haze of the afternoon world to a sharp pain in my temples and what felt like every inch of tissue on my body. An overwhelming nausea swept over me. Blackout fucking drunk. That’s how much I must’ve drank.
I really do feel sick. I hurled the sheets to the side and my body over the side of the mattress and made it to the bathroom just in time before puking up what was left in my stomach. I hated myself for this. This had been happening too long. But today, the pain in my body…I’d never felt that before. I noticed my straining muscles again after I threw up. I guess the jolt of “get the fuck to the bathroom” energy kind of blacked out the pain for a second but now it was back. Everything hurt so much. My legs could barely pick me up again.
Water. God I need water. Somehow my destroyed legs carried me to the kitchen. My eyes squinting at the offensive sunlight pummeling my retinas, and trying to clench what muscle there is in my face to stop the pulsing headache. I turned the tap on with one hand while the other reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a bottle of Advil LiquiGels (fucking godsend to drinkers). I took 4 and downed a pint of water. Back to bed I crawled. I shut the blinds. Must’ve been pretty desperate last night if I didn’t shut them. I know how intrusive that ball of fire in the sky can be.
MAKE IT STOP!!! I hate hangovers. I always have. I don’t know why I haven’t just given up drinking altogether. But this was different. Why did my body hurt this much? I started undressing. I only realized while walking to the kitchen as I passed the mirror in the corridor that I still had on the clothes from the night before. Off came the hoodie. I noticed scrapes on the palms of my hands and a few bruises. I didn’t pay much attention to them. Guess I fell. Fuck. I must’ve made a right fool out of myself judging by this and how awful I feel. I peeled off my jeans next. I guess I should mention both articles of clothing seemed to smell pretty awful and had all sorts of stains on them. I don’t know why I was ignoring it all but I guess my headache took over and my main concern was to just get back to sleep. More bruises on my legs. Tons, actually. WTF. At least I know why it was so goddam difficult to get to the kitchen. What the hell. I hurriedly took off my t-shirt and bra, not caring anymore about my body, and then finally my panties.
They were moist. Immediately I felt that familiar rush of hangover horniness. I brought the panties to my face and inhaled. Yeah. I’d definitely had sex. My thighs pressed against each other as the pleasure somewhat dulled the bruised flesh being squeezed. I took another breath. It was stronger, more pungent than other times. I threw the panties on the floor and pulled my duvet over myself. Time to masturbate myself back to sleep, and hope this god awful headache is gone when I wake up.
My hands moved over my breasts. They were sensitive. I lightly caressed in opposite spiral motions from the bottom of the breast’s bulge to the areolas…and finally pinched my nipples. God it felt good. I hate being hungover but I love how desperately horny it makes me. I took a handful of boob in each hand, squeezed, and winced. Fuck! Why so sore??? I pulled the duvet down a bit and saw that they too, were bruised. The bruises seemed to be in a strange pattern. I’d played rough before but this guy must’ve been batshit. Mental note to not share the same bed again…if I could even recognize him.
Goddamn it though…now I couldn’t even play with my breasts without wincing in pain. Not cool. I wanted to cry. What about my wake-up orgasm? I needed a lot of stimulation usually, and when I was alone, in this new bedroom in a new flat in a new city with my box of toys still being shipped over, my hands were all I had and them being on my plump tits was a big part for me cumming.
I sighed and got myself back into control. My left hand stayed on my left breast. Back to caressing and gently massaging my nipple. My right hand dragged its fingernails over my belly and down into the warm comfort of my mound. It was warm. Moist. Well, dripping actually. The idea of having been fucked that hard was beginning to turn me on. My labia was also sore. It felt swollen to the touch. It was also sensitive. And then my clit. It was throbbing. I never usually felt like this until after hours of sex, but it would always be fine the next morning. My fingers got to work as I imagined what the previous night must’ve been like.
*Grinding up to some sexy guy on the dancefloor, feeling his hands on my hips. We’d dance and sweat together for hours. Kissing, maybe. Tongues twisting. Our hands taking more and more risks. Then he’d maybe invite me over, and I’d cup his crotch as I whispered “I’d love to” in his ear. We’d jump in the first cab that stopped and our hands would be all over each other. Mine unzipping his pants and squeezing his cock, feeling it grow harder between my fingers. His would be under my shirt, unclasping my bra, squeezing my breast and pinching nipples. Eventually he’d make his way between my thighs, rubbing my warm moist pussy through my jeans. When we get dropped off it’s a mad rush through his front door and no time wasted in getting our clothes off. Again our hands explore every inch and only when I see him without pants do I realize how big he is (he must’ve been given my state). I’d kneel down in front of him and give him my best big puppy-dog eyes as my tongue curls around him before inviting him far into my throat and my hands work on his balls and what length I can’t fit in my mouth. A few wet sops later he’d grab the back of my head and begin testing my gag-reflex, but my hands would be free to play with myself. I’d feel my juices dribbling out of me and massage them over my lips. I like to make sure a guy can slip inside me in one go. I’d work on my clit and feel the electricity build up as I drooled over his cock and my mascara drooled over my cheeks. Just as I’d feel he was getting close he’d pull my hair and bring me to my feet and drag me over to the couch. He’d push me forward, bending me over the armrest. He’d push my face into the pillows as he slid the tip of his big, hard cock up and down my soaking labia. I’d be gasping for breath as he slid himself inside me. A muffled moan would be heard as I felt him enter me painfully slowly and felt his thickness. But the moan would turn to a yelp as he continued to push deeper and his true size became apparent. He’d pull out all the way slowly, then penetrate fully in one concise and forceful thrust. Yelps. Every time. It was hardly noticeable from one thrust to the next but he was picking up speed. As he got to one thrust every 2-3 seconds he pulled my hair and pulled my head up out of the pillows. My legs were splayed apart with my feet almost a meter apart. My hips would be resting against the armrest. His grip on my hair meant my back was arched downwards, my breasts swinging freely, and my face looking straight ahead where maybe there was a mirror so I could see his powerful body overwhelming my slight frame. Faster. Faster. Faster. With each thrust my muscles tightened a little more (in real life, my middle and ring fingers sloppily thrusting in and out, a noticeable wet-spot developing in the sheets). Then that unparalleled rush of endorphins and whatever else causes my body to be thrown over the edge. I’d feel his cum fill me as my body released its tightness and exploded into a frenzy of moans and convulsions. He wouldn’t stop thrusting until I’d fall limp on the couch, which felt like an eternity. I’d scoop his creampie out of me and bring it to my mouth. I’d lick it off my fingers, catch my breath, wipe my smudgy tears…then look back at him for more.*
Ugh…that felt good. I don’t know why cumming hungover is so amazing. I needed that and already felt better, even though I’m sure the ibuprofen was doing most of the work. Time to sleep now. Hopefully the headache will be gone when I wake up.
I woke up startled. My phone was ringing. I was actually kind of surprised no one had tried to reach me yet. But then again, if I was this bad, maybe all my friends were just as hungover today. I decided to ignore my phone for now.
I stretched under the covers. My muscles ached almost more than before but my headache was gone. Thank god. As I stretched my bruised and bare skin caressed the soft fabric of my sheets and immediately aroused me again. My left hand found my slit (still wet), dipped inside me, then made its way to my mouth. I tasted myself and moaned. I was looking forward to playing with myself again, and again. It was just going to be one of those days.
After a hasty lunch (I had to eat something but I wanted my fingers inside myself again ASAP) I returned to my room. I decided to finally check my phone. Also because having stupidly packed my laptop charger in my shipment it was all I had to watch porn on. There were a few missed calls by friends who could wait, and 3 texts from a number I didn’t have saved.
I opened the messages.
“Hey, it’s Erik, from last night”
“The guys and I had a really, umm, interesting, time, and we’re wondering if you’d want to do it again sometime. Here’s the link to the video as promised”
The third message was a link to eroshare.
What. The. Actual. Fuck. Panic arose in me. No, no, no, no, no! The bruises, the pain, my used pussy. What the fuck did I do? I mean, I had always fantasized about more than one guy, but…did I seriously do this? My mind flooded with guilt. My body, however, betrayed me. My thighs clenched together and a raging fire came up out of nowhere. My free hand again rushed to cup my mound. I could feel the internal clenches. I was warm. Hot, even. My middle finger dove into the wetness between my labia as without any further hesitation, I opened the link.
*The image was fuzzy. Shit phone camera I guess. It was half focused on who I immediately recognized at myself. I was at the bar at my favorite club leaning over the counter shouting something at the bar-tender. My butt was sticking out and my thong was showing above the belt-line, which is probably what prompted this freak to start filming. Creep. As I was waiting for my drink the camera zoomed in on my butt. I forget how good it looks pulled up by those jeans. I was rocking my hips back and forth to the music, but noticed I wasn’t really keeping any rhythm. I must’ve been pretty tipsy already.*
*The video cut to who knows how long later in the evening. Again it was focused on me. I was sloppily dancing with quite a hunk. I was really into it though. My eyes were closed and even though I was sloppy, there was fire in me. My crotch never left the comfort of his thigh and his hands never left my thighs and butt. I don’t mind admitting this is pretty standard for a night out for me. I’m a bit of a boozy slut…so what? What stood out though, were his occasional glances to the phone-cameraman. He was very aware of being filmed.*
*Cut. Dancefloor. Different guy. This time my body is pressed into his. The side of my face pressed against his chest. I still haven’t noticed the camera. He knows it’s there. My hand is up inside his tshirt up his back. He’s whispering things in my ear and I bite my lip. His hand grabs my ass and seems to squeeze as my mouth opens in what looks like a gasp.*
*Cut. Some kind of drinks storage room, probably inside the club. Me. 4 other guys. I’m clearly hammered by how I’m slurring my words and laughing. There’s a bag of cocaine being passed around. I can hardly believe my eyes when I see myself put the rolled up bill into my nose, dip it in the baggie, and take a sniff. I’ve never done any drugs before. My eyes open wide in the video. Everyone else is laughing and telling me to take it easy. I feel like a fool watching it. And I’m terrified of what may come up later. But my body wants to find out. One of the guys takes the baggie away from me and hands it to a friend. I’m giggling and I can tell the cocaine is starting to do its work from my expression. But the giggles disappear as the guy grabs the back of my neck and pulls my face to his. He kisses me deeply as I hear oohs and ahhs from the other three. Then he pushes me hard to the floor and I protest as my knees hit the ground. His cock appears in the shot. He’s undone his belt and unzipped his pants halfway down his thighs. He squeezes my mouth open and shoves himself inside me. I gag as I try to push him away but he slaps me and repeats his attempt. I hear the others say they’ll leave him to it and head out of the room.*
*Cut. Looking through the ajar door into the storage room. My face is pressed against a wall. He’s taking me from behind. Hard. My jeans and thong are messily pulled down to my knees. My feet as spread apart as they’ll go with my jeans there. He’s pushing my face into the wall with one hand as the other alternates between slapping and manhandling my breasts. My face is a mess of drool and mascara and even though it doesn’t look like I’m enjoying it, I’m not fighting back. The camera enters the room and looks around and I notice the other three guys are all there, closing the door behind them. The guy is cumming. One last deep thrust inside me and he holds it there. Pressing my body against the wall. He whispers in my ear and I moan. As he pulls out, his creampie drips down my leg and my jeans and the floor. My thighs are glistening from what I imagine are my own juices. I am blackout drunk, not moving an inch.*
*Cut. One guy is holding me from behind, his arms under my armpits. Two other guys are holding my legs up, trying to peel my tight jeans off my legs. I’m wriggling in midair, trying a futile attempt at kicking back and failing. They get my pants off and I’m dropped to the floor. I am conscious but too drunk to really care. I’m drooling. One of the guys that dropped me comes back into the shot and I get roughly picked up by my upper arm and pushed back against the wall again, this time my back is against it. He holds one hand to my throat. His free hand unbuckles, unbuttons, and unzips his pants. He pulls out his throbbing huge cock. His hand then comes to my crotch and feels me up. My face turns into an expression of twisted pleasure. He takes his hand from the folds of my pussy and wets his cock with the juices and undoubtedly some of his own friends cum. He then lifts up one of my legs and wraps it around his waist before he plunges himself inside of me. He wastes no time and starts pounding me roughly. His choking hand takes a few slaps at my face. He spits in it too. He grabs my breasts and squeezes like he’s trying to pop them.*
*Cut. I’m sitting on the floor. My face is a mess. Mascara and makeup bleeding everywhere. It’s covered in cum. There’s cum in my hair too. And on my shirt. My legs are spread-eagle in front of my. Jizz is oozing out of me and pooling on the floor. My legs are shiny with sweat and I have red marks on my arms and legs from the roughness. Someone pisses on me.*
*Cut. I’m naked. Face down on the floor. Someone is on top of me. Pounding me hard, pressing my arms into the floor. I’m pinned. I can’t move. With every thrust my naked body rocks on the hard floor. He cums on my back.*
*Cut. I’m curled up on the floor, naked, covered in piss, juice, cum, sweat, and spit. Hands are all over me. Exploring my body and holes.*
*Cut. I’m knelt down, my mouth being held open. Someone’s pissing in it.*
*Cut. I’m on all fours. One cock in my mouth, one from behind. This time I’m the one cumming. My body bursts into convulsions and I curl up into a shivering ball. One of them grabs my arms and pins them to the floor. Another does my legs. Another straddles my face and sticks his cock in my mouth. The last of them fingers my sloppy cunt.*
*Cut. They watch me struggle to put my clothes back on my filthy body.*
*Cut. We’re in a car. One of them is driving. Passenger is filming. I’m in the bitch seat with my pants down by my ankles again as the guys either side of me manhandle whatever they get their hands on. I orgasm a couple more times.*
*Cut. They laugh as I stumble towards my front door. I fall a couple of times but make it. I hear the engine rev.*
*Cut.*
My mind doesn’t know how to take this. I should be astonished and shocked. I’m crying but as the video ends and I put the phone away I can’t take my other hand off of my clit. The emotions I’m feeling overwhelm me. Fuck the pain. My hands begin to manhandle my body as those men did the night before. I’m tearing at my breasts and pinching and slapping my clit. Tears soak my cheeks and my wetness is soaking the bed. I’m writhing like a fish out of water and then it happens. I let out the most animalistic grunt I have ever emitted as my back spasms into a wild arch. As the first wave subsides I flop back onto the mattress. Before the second wave hits I plunge 3 fingers as far into my cunt as I can. That’s when the shivering starts. I curl up into a ball. I imagine myself doing the same last night. I can’t believe what a dirty whore I was. I remember being pissed on and a third wave hits me. I’m such a slut. I’m a fucking worthless little cumbucket. Oh god it feels good. Oh god…
I lie there still for what feels like 10 minutes. My fingers are still inside me. As I try to catch my breath my body keeps spasming every few seconds.
I’ve stopped crying. I feel strangely satisfied. I pull my hand out of my drenched folds and lick it clean. I smile.
I turn around and without any hesitation pick up my phone.
“Hi Erik. When?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/4oxlab/i_got_roughed_up_at_the_club_last_night