The Misadventures of Becky
1. Overdrawn at the Sperm Bank
A stupid slut makes a big mistake in her job at the sperm bank and soon finds
herself in a very sticky situation.
Heads turned when Rebecca Chase entered a room. She was only 5 feet 5, but
every inch of her was perfect from the lustrous brown hair that flowed onto her
shoulders to her long smooth slender lightly tanned legs. And Rebecca, or Becky
as she preferred to be known, knew it. From the makeup on her pretty face to
the clothes she wore, from the way she moved to the way she talked, everything
she did was deliberately done to accentuate her beauty.
Looking at herself in the mirror before setting off for work, Becky smiled.
Looking herself up and down, she thought, "Not bad. Not bad at all." Her deep
brown eyes gazed back at her from the mirror.
Walking to work, Becky was aware of men staring at her, wishing she were theirs.
Becky was wearing a low cut white top which showed off to perfection her 36C
cleavage and she took every opportunity to flaunt her breasts to any man who
showed even an inkling of interest. Even the way she walked, striding
purposefully down the street, her lovely hips swaying in that tight blue
miniskirt of hers, her calves accentuated by her heels, was designed to attract
longing glances.
Becky always dressed in revealing clothes - she was such a flirt - but in her
present job, she considered it was essential. Becky worked in reception at a
sperm bank. Every day, men arrived at the clinic to donate sperm. She greeted
them, made them comfortable, and when it was time, led them to a small cubicle
where they would make their deposit, as it were. The men were often nervous
and, she understood, often took some time to get aroused. The clinic provided
copies of porn magazines to help but Becky saw it as her public duty to help as
well - hence the way she looked at the men, showed off her breasts to them, the
way she walked, the way she talked, teasing and flirting with them. That got
them aroused all right, she smiled.
Becky loved to tease. She loved to wear short skirts and low cut tops and loved
to see men's reactions to her. She loved to get a reaction. A favourite trick
was to get a man turned on while he filled the form before he gave a donation.
She would lean over, brushing against the man, resting her pert firm breasts
against his arm. The, smiling sweetly, she would make suggestive remarks and
revel in the discomfort this produced in her victim. She flirted with everyone
- patients, work colleagues - everyone, that is, except one person.
That was Hoskins, the head of the clinic. He was a large, portly man, about 50.
She didn't like him, thought he was fat and ugly, rude, uncouth and pig
ignorant. She hated him and would have left, if the money at the clinic hadn't
been so good. And she enjoyed teasing all those men, and knowing that as they
stroked their cocks in the cubicles they were thinking of her.
Her job also involved collecting the samples once the men had produced them.
Becky would take the tubes of semen from the men (often giving a little secret
smile to them if the tubes were particularly full, making them blush all the
more) and then take them into the laboratory where she had to label the tube and
put it in the freezer. The freezer was a large metal box which housed all the
1,000 or so samples that had been collected over the years. Every day, Becky
opened the freezer and thought of all the men who had left their deposits here,
as it were, and how she had helped them just by showing a bit of leg, or letting
them see her perfect cleavage. What a selfless person she was!
Yes, she enjoyed her job. It was easy, enjoyable and paid well. Then one day,
it all went horribly wrong.
The previous night, Becky had been out partying with her friends. She had got
home late drunk and crashed out. She awoke, sprawled across her bed, still
dressed from the night before, at about 8:30 am. She was late. Hurriedly, she
showered and dressed for work, ran out of the house and caught the bus. She
felt like shit.
Becky arrived late for work (earning a disapproving stare from Hoskins as she
arrived). She sat her desk and held her head in her hands. Why had she drunk
so much and stayed up so late? Her head ached and she found it difficult to
concentrate. The day passed by slowly in a daze.
She was still tired that evening when she had to lock up and make sure
everything was ready for the next day. It was 6:00pm and the last client of the
day was just making his deposit. Becky sat bored at her desk. He was taking so
long to do what he had to do. Had she been up to it, she would have done her
usual routine of flirting and showing her tits but today, she just couldn't be
bothered. Eventually the man finished and handed her his sample.
Becky walked into the laboratory, opened the freezer, put the sample in, pushed
the door shut, and turned and walked away, glad to be going home.
Unfortunately, in her haste to leave, Becky did not notice that the freezer door
did not shut properly. It swung open. That night, all the samples - years of
samples - defrosted and became ruined, unusable. The clinic's stocks were gone.
The next day, Becky arrived bright and early, looking more of her flirtatious
self. She had made a special effort today, after the disaster of the previous
day. Wearing a short tight black mini skirt, heels, and a red low cut top, she
looked stunning.
However, when she arrived at work, she found out quickly that something was up.
Within a few minutes, she found out what had happened and knew that it was here
fault. It was only a matter of time before she was summoned to see Hoskins.
All that morning, she sat at her desk nervously, awaiting the call, but it never
came. Perhaps she had got away with it. Then, early that afternoon, she got
the message: Hoskins wanted to see her - NOW!
Nervously Becky knocked on Hoskins' door. There was no reply. She knew he was
in there; the bastard was just making her wait. She knocked again, louder this
time, and a voice told her to come in.
Becky entered Hoskins' office and slowly walked across the room. She had never
been in Hoskins' office before but it was much as she expected - a large office,
minimally furnished, designed to make its owner feel important and dominant.
Hoskins was standing with his back to her behind his desk looking out of the
window. She walked across the room and stood in front of the desk. There was
no chair for her to sit on - he had obviously had it removed to make her stand
there and feel more vulnerable and exposed.
"Mr Hoskins," she said uncertainly, "You wanted to see me."
Hoskins turned slowly and looked at Becky. Becky lowered her head as he stared
at her, ashamed to meet his gaze. She realised she must look like a naughty
schoolgirl standing before the headmaster and that was exactly how she felt.
She stood there before him, head lowered, biting her lip gently, her hair
hanging down and nestling on her shoulders, arms straight and crossed in front
of her, hands clasped before her, her legs slightly bent inwards at the knees,
feet slightly apart.
Hoskins sat down at the desk and stared at her. His gaze followed the contours
of her body, eyeing her up and down slowly and, it seemed to her, lasciviously.
She now wished she had worn more modest clothing. After what seemed an
eternity, Hoskins spoke, his voice steady and calm. "You realise, don't you,"
he said, "that because of you, we've had to put out an emergency call for
donors." He paused for her answer.
"Yes sir," Becky mumbled.
"Luckily for you," he continued, "we have had an amazing response from the
public. Do you know we have had over 500 men volunteer at short notice to
donate sperm to us as a result of our appeal? Do you know how much sperm that
is, Becky?"
Becky shook her head, "No sir. I don't." She felt so stupid. Imagine working
in a sperm bank and not knowing anything about the male ejaculate other than,
she thought guiltily, what it tasted like and how warm it was when it splattered
on your skin. But then she had always suspected that she had not been hired for
her brains. It was more likely she had been hired to help the donors get
erections as they sat in the waiting room.
"Would you like to know, Becky," Hoskins asked, "I think you might find it
useful information in the near future."
What did he mean by his last comment, thought Becky. Whatever it was, she felt
it couldn't be important. Nevertheless, Becky thought she had better keep
Hoskins happy so she nodded her head.
"What was that, Becky?" snapped Hoskins.
He was clearly unsatisfied with a simple nod of the head, thought Becky. God,
the guy was such an asshole. "Yes, I'd like to know, " she sighed.
"Yes WHAT?"
"Yes sir, I'd like to know."
"Now ask nicely."
Jesus, he was really piling it on. Becky decided to humour him. "Please sir,"
she said, trying to avoid sounding sarcastic, "please tell me."
Hoskins smiled. "That's better. Little girls should be polite when talking to
their bosses. And since you've been so polite, I will tell you. The volume of
the average male ejaculate is 10cc. Sometimes it is more or less depending on
the individual and when they last ejaculated, but a good benchmark is 10cc.
That means that 500 men will provide a total volume of 5,000 cubic centimetres
of semen. That's an awful lot of semen - and an awful lot of time and money."
Hoskins slowly opened a manila folder in front of him on the desk and
desultorily flicked some of the papers in it. He looked up at Becky, "We have a
bit of a dilemma here, Becky. By your carelessness and stupidity, you have
caused many thousands of dollars of damage. Not only that but by destroying all
our stock of sperm, you have put this company in danger of closing down. We
could sue you for every penny you have and have you thrown in jail for
negligence. Do you understand?"
Becky felt the blood draining from her face and a pit opening up in her stomach.
She had not fully appreciated the consequences of her actions and was scared of
what might happen. Her life could be ruined forever by that one silly mistake.
"I'm sorry, sir," she stammered, "I ….. I ….. I'm dreadfully sorry. I didn't
mean to do it. It just ….." Words failed her.
"That's not good enough, I'm afraid," Hoskins said slowly and deliberately, "As
I see it, you have three options. Number one: you make financial recompense to
this company and its shareholders for the incalculable damage to our business.
However I assume that you do not have the financial wherewithal to do this. Am
I correct?"
Becky nodded and Hoskins continued, "Number two: I call the police and let the
law take its course. Do you want me to do that, Becky?"
"No sir," Becky said, "Please don't do that."
Hoskins paused and then spoke, "And finally, number three: we come to some
alternative arrangement."
It was slowly dawning on her what Hoskins was after. He was probably after a
blowjob or something and then he would forget the whole thing. She had seen the
way he looked at her. He wanted her. A blowjob was a small price to pay to get
out of this mess.
"An alternative arrangement, sir?" Becky enquired, "What do you mean?"
"Simply that you agree to do whatever I say and whatever I want you to. You
will sign yourself over to the company and effectively become a chattel of this
corporation. In return, we will not inform the authorities of your stupidity.
You must understand however that if at any time, you disobey me or refuse to do
what you are ordered to do, then we will immediately inform the police. I've
taken the liberty of drawing up a legal document to that effect. Would you like
to read it?"
Hoskins slid a three-page document across the desk to Becky. Becky scanned the
document, turning the pages slowly. The writing was dense and complicated. She
did not pretend to understand most of it but she picked out a few key phrases:
"will henceforth be a chattel of this corporation… wholly and exclusively the
property of this company to do with as the CEO sees fit…. no right of appeal
against any orders…. will perform any acts requested immediately and without
question …. agreement runs for the period of one year." Hoskins watched as she
read, a thin smile playing around his lips. Slowly he slid a pen across the
table to Becky.
Becky's mind was racing. What she did in the next few seconds would determine
what would happen to her in the future. The trauma of a court case, financial
ruin and possibly prison vs being at this guys beck and call for a year,
together with a few blow jobs here and there. It wasn't much of a choice
really. Becky took the pen and signed the document.
"Excellent," smiled Hoskins and took the document, countersigned it and placed
it in the manila folder. He looked at Becky, "We might as well start
implementing the clauses of the contract immediately, Becky. Take of your
coat."
Becky slipped off her lab coat and dropped it to the floor. She now stood
before Hoskins, wearing just her street clothes - her black, low cut short
sleeved shirt, black knee length skirt, tights, shoes, and underwear. She could
feel Hoskins' eyes moving up and down her body, taking in the swell of her
breasts under the tight shirt, the curves of her hips and her long lithe nylon
clad legs.
"You're quite lucky, Becky," said Hoskins after what for Becky was an
uncomfortable pause, "Do you know that?" It was a rhetorical question, she
assumed, and so did not bother to reply. "We managed to get 500 replacement
sperm donors at very short notice to replace the semen that you destroyed. If
we hadn't, I don't know what we would have done and what would have happened to
you."
He smiled, a smile so knowing that Becky shivered. What was he going on about?
Meanwhile, Hoskins continued, "We advertised on the internet and got 500 guys to
replace our stocks at quite short notice. Imagine that. Imagine such a
response in such a short time. Aren't you impressed?"
"Yes sir," Becky mumbled, unsure as to where this was leading.
"How do you think we did that?" Hoskins asked.
"I don't know, sir," Becky replied quietly. Again she felt like a naughty
schoolgirl about to be spanked.
"Perhaps you'd like to see the ad," Hoskins said and pushed a piece of paper
over to her, face down. He smiled that smile of his as Becky picked the paper
up, turned it over and read the advert.
"WANTED: 500 guys to participate in the sperm bath of a slut. We're looking for
guys of any shape and size available to attend the Hoskins Clinic at 12 noon
tomorrow for the sperming of a tramp. Must have balls full of jizz and be
prepared to cum anywhere on this whore." Underneath the text was a photo of
Becky.
Becky's mouth was suddenly dry and she saw the room spinning round her. A
yawning pit seemed to be opening up before her. The words she was reading
didn't make sense: sperm bath, sperming, slut, tramp. And this was her. She
was going to be covered in the cum of 500 men and there was nothing she could do
about it. She imagined what was happen to her, imagined her body coated in the
cum of all those men, all those men wanking over her, fucking her, using her.
Hoskins smiled at Becky's horror at was to occur. Unfortunately, he was unable
to revel in her discomfort for too long. He had to get things moving in time
for the sperming.
"Take off your shirt, Becky," demanded Hoskins. Becky stood stock still, still
transfixed by the prospect of her imminent spermbath. Her mind was in a whirl
and she was frozen to the spot.
"Now, Becky," snapped Hoskins, "Not in a few seconds time. Now. Remember the
agreement?"
Becky obeyed, slowly reluctantly pulling the shirt over her head and dropping it
to the floor. Hoskins liked what he saw. Becky's firm young body was lightly
tanned, her white lacy bra extenuating nicely the smooth curves of her 36C
breasts. He was going to enjoy this more than ever.
"Lose the dress, slut," barked Hoskins, "and the tights and shoes" Becky flicked
her shoes off and unzipped the dress, letting it fall to the floor. She stepped
out of it and rolled her tights down her legs, balling them up and throwing them
down with her other clothing. She now stood before Hoskins clad only in her bra
and panties. Again, Hoskins liked what he saw. He could see the outline of her
pubes through the thin lace of the panties. Oh yes, no doubt, this would be
fun.
"Now, legs apart, hands on head," he commanded and Becky obeyed. Hoskins stood
and walked towards her. He began to slowly walk round her, admiring her body.
Becky could smell his sweaty musky smell as he walked purposefully around her.
Every so often, Hoskins made a crude comment about her to embarrass her further:
"Nice tits …… nice ass ….. like your pussy." He began to brush his finger
against her, and then run his hand over her body as he walked. Shivers ran down
Becky's spine.
Eventually, after a minute or so, Hoskins sat down on the edge of the desk.
Still admiring her, he commented in an off hand way, "You know your skin is so
wonderful, so soft. You should be thanking me - they say sperm does wonders for
the skin."
Then purposefully, Hoskins broke from his reverie and addressed Becky, "Now some
ground rules before we start. Number 1: You are to obey me immediately and
without question in future. Remember you have signed an agreement to that
effect. Number 2: You are to refer to me as 'sir' or 'master'. Number 3: You
will never speak unless I tell you to. Number 4: Your name is henceforth
'slave', 'slut', 'tramp', 'whore' or any other derogatory term that sums up what
you are. You always refer to yourself in those terms but will also prefix each
term with a word for sperm. Acceptable terms for sperm are: cum, jizz, jizm,
spunk, and semen. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Becky mumbled, hanging her head in shame and to avoid Hoskins seeing
her blushes.
"Good. Now tell me what you are."
"Cum slut, sir," Becky whispered.
"Louder and in a proper sentence."
"I am a cum slut, sir."
"What kind of cum slut are you? Tell me, how bad and dirty you are."
"I am a dirty cum slut, sir. A dirty filthy cum slut."
"You can do better than that. And you can think of other terms than cum slut."
Becky began to cry. Tears began to run down her pretty cheeks and her shoulders
shake with the weeping. Hoskins however did not appear to care, simply
repeating the statements in a slow, deliberate manner. This time, Becky
replied.
"I am a dirty stinking filthy jizz whore, sir who needs to be cum on."
Hoskins smiled. "Now I want you on your knees and I want you to beg me to cover
you in cum. You understand, beg me."
Becky continued to cry as she sank to her knees. Almost automatically, she
clasped her hands together as if in prayer and looked up beseechingly at
Hoskins. "Please sir, cover your worthless filthy sperm whore with cum. I want
to feel it over every inch of my slutty body."
"Excellent, Becky, excellent," laughed Hoskins, "You're learning very quickly."
There was a knock on the door. Hoskins smiled, "The time has come, pretty one.
Now crawl on your hands and knees across to the door and open it." Becky did as
she was told. Still clad in her bra and panties, she crawled across the floor
to the door, knelt up and opened the door. Standing in the doorway was a man
dressed in a white lab coat, holding a collar and leash in one hand and an
electric cattle prod in the other. Smiling, he bent over and fastened the
collar around Becky's neck.
"Stand up, slut," he ordered, jerking the leash. Becky obeyed and stood. She
felt so ashamed, standing there in her underwear with a collar round her neck
like a dog. Hoskins walked over to her and the two men looked at Becky and
laughed. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Hoskins grasped her face with his right hand, pushing her cheeks inward, forcing
her to look at him, "Listen slut. Just a reminder. You will do everything we
tell you to do immediately and without question. If you refuse, we will give
you a burst of the prod and then we'll make you do what we want anyway. And
remember the agreement. Do you understand?"
Becky nodded. Her body was trembling. Hoskins smiled and turned, "Follow me."
Becky did as she was told - not that she had much choice as Hoskins' assistant
was dragging her along by the leash. She was led down a maze of dimly lit
corridors. All was silent. All she could hear was her own heavy breathing and
the soft noise of her bare feet on the cold linoleum floor. She was led down
some metal stairs. Up ahead, she could hear a hubbub of voices, muted in the
maze of quiet corridors. The noise became louder and before her, she could see
light pouring through an open door.
Becky was led onto a stage in an auditorium. The hubbub ceased. Staring into
the lights, she saw she was in what appeared to be a lecture theatre. Rows of
seats banked round the stage and up towards the roof. She could see that the
theatre was full of men, watching her intently. The expressions on their faces
were a mixture of lust, excitement and curiosity.
Hoskins stepped up to a dais and spoke into a microphone, "Thank you, gentlemen.
Welcome to the Hoskins Clinic and what promises to be a momentous occasion. And
I'd also like you to welcome our slut for this afternoon. Gentlemen." He
gestured towards Becky standing nervously beside him, her head hanging down in
shame. The men applauded and wolf whistled. Becky felt herself blushing in
embarrassment. There she was, standing in front of all these men, dressed only
in her underwear. And things were about to get much more embarrassing …….
Hoskins raised his hands to quieten the audience down. "Thank you, gentlemen,
thank you," he said, then turning once more to Becky, "Slut, introduce yourself
to your audience and tell them why you are."
Becky almost blurted out her name but then she remembered the conversation in
Hoskins' office and realised what was required. "I am a filthy cum slut who
wants to be covered in your cum," she said, addressing the audience. There was
a ripple of excitement in the audience.
"Louder, slut," snapped Hoskins and Becky repeated what she had said. "Good,
slut, " said Hoskins, "Now beg us."
Resigned to her fate, Becky fell to her knees, raised her head and clasped her
hands as if in prayer, "Please please, cover me in your cum. Let me feel your
hot jizz splattering across my slutty face, over my tits, over my pussy and
ass."
The audience was laughing at her now, revelling in her humiliation. Hoskins was
behind her, stroking her hair, laughing also. Becky felt her face reddening as
they laughed and she lowered her head in shame, her dark hair falling about her
face.
"Take off your bra, slut," commanded Hoskins. Becky slowly unclipped her bra
and slipped it from her shoulders, revealing her firm full breasts. "And now,
your panties," he continued. Becky rolled her panties down her legs and stepped
out of them. She now stood naked in front of the room, her hands crossed across
her crotch, her arms covering her breasts.
"Hands on head, bitch," snapped Hoskins and Becky obeyed, exposing herself to
the room. She felt Hoskins' hands running over her body, squeezing her breasts,
slipping between her legs. His fingers tweaked and pinched her nipples and she
squealed in pain. The audience laughed, revelling in her discomfort.
Becky felt Hoskins putting something round her neck. She looked down and saw
that there was now a piece of card hanging round her neck. There was writing on
the card saying CUMSLUT. Becky blushed at the thought of being exhibited in
this manner.
Becky was now aware of a bank of video cameras recording the scene. She
imagined her image projected on a TV screen, an image of her standing stark
naked with the sign round her neck. She felt so degraded already - and she knew
that this was just the start of it. As she stood there, head lowered in shame,
her hair falling across her face and over her breasts, she saw flash after
camera flash as a number of still cameras recorded her humiliation.
"Now then, gentlemen," announced Hoskins, "The slut's punishment is about to
begin. You have all drawn lots and been allocated tasks based on those lots.
It is important for the maximum humiliation of this stupid careless little whore
that you adhere to those instructions precisely. Also, please take effort not
to waste any cum. This slut needs and deserves it all." Hoskins paused and
then spoke again, "Let the entertainment begin."
Becky felt the sign being lifted off her head and then strong hands grab her
arms, leading her across to a polythene sheet. "Kneel, slut," commanded Hoskins
and Becky did so, clasping her hands behind her back, a picture of abject
submission.
"Look at me, bitch," barked Hoskins and Becky looked up. Hoskins stood before
her stark naked. Becky ran her eyes over his hairy body, his large distended
belly, and at his cock which even now was erect and pointing towards her.
Hoskins moved towards her, lifting her head up with a finger under her chin.
Her face was now level with his cock which, as she could now see, was dripping
pre-cum.
Slowly he began to wipe the tip of his cock across Becky's face, leaving a slimy
trail of pre-cum across her pretty features. The tip moved back and forth along
her closed lips and then across Becky's cheek, smearing her lipstick.
"Open that mouth, slut, and stick your tongue out," ordered Hoskins and Becky
obeyed, sticking her tongue out as far as it would go. Hoskins began to stroke
the head of his cock up and down on her tongue, grabbing her hair with his hand,
moving her head to increase the stimulation. Slowly he pushed Becky's head down
over his cock, sliding it into her mouth, pushing her face against his pubes.
Becky felt his cock slide into her throat, gagging as it filled her mouth.
Holding her hair tightly in his fist, Hoskins began to pump into her, the sound
of Becky making muffled protests spurring him on to treat her mouth even more
roughly. Spit trickled from the side of Becky's mouth as Hoskins's cock rammed
into her. Then suddenly, he withdrew.
Coughing, Becky took a deep gasp of air. As she did so, Hoskins grabbed his
cock and slapped her across the right cheek. There was a dull "thwack" as the
head and shaft of his cock splatted against her cheek, smearing her face with
spit and precum. Hoskins grabbed her hair once more, forcing her head back so
she was looking up at him, his cock almost lying on her face. She saw Hoskins
tugging at his penis, the head dripping precum onto her. She braced herself for
the inevitable.
He came, large globules of cum spurting out over her face. The first jet struck
her full in the face and streamed over the bridge of Becky's nose and down her
cheeks. She was aware of a cheer from the watching crowd. More cum pumped over
her pretty face, running down over her lips, and then another burst, splattering
into her hair. Hoskins gripped his cock, squeezing every last drop out over the
helpless slut. Then he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
Becky knelt naked before him, her hands still clasped behind her back. Cum
dripped off her pretty face. A long stream of thick cum dangled from her chin.
She felt so humiliated, so degraded. But this was just the start, she knew.
Hoskins stepped back and another man stepped forward. He too was naked and his
cock was erect. He had clearly been playing with himself as he watched Becky's
humiliation since the head of his cock was glistening with precum. With the
tip of his cock, he began to smear Hoskins' cum across Becky's face. As he did
so, he could hear the men around her chuckling at her humiliation and her
embarrassment.
From behind, Becky's hair was grabbed and her face forced upwards. "Beg to suck
his cock, slut, " she heard Hoskins order, "Beg like the slut you are."
Becky began to plead, " Please let me suck your cock. Please fill my
cocksucking mouth with your cum. Fill this whore's mouth with cock.
Pleeeeeease." Around her, the men laughed and made lewd comments.
Soon her wish was granted. The man thrust his cock into her mouth. With only a
few jerks in her mouth, he withdrew and spurted over her face, running down her
cheeks. "You dirty, dirty slut," the man said as he stepped back from her to
admire his handiwork.
Becky then felt hands grab at her arms, pulling her to her feet. Still dripping
cum, she was led, half walking, half dragged across to a table. Becky was
lifted onto it, her legs dangling off the end. She became aware of men
gathering round her. Soon she felt a large cock thrusting into her pussy,
fucking her. Cocks slapped her in the face and eased into her mouth.
Involuntarily, she began to lick and suck at them. Someone grabbed each of her
arms and held her spread-eagled on the tabletop. A cock found its way into each
of her hands and Becky began to stroke them. She felt the heads of penises
brushing against her tits. Becky was surrounded by men, all of them stroking
themselves, using her body to pleasure themselves.
Soon Becky felt the first cum shower down onto her. Like a gentle warm rain,
cum sprinkled over her. It fell on her face, across her breasts, her belly and
over her pubes. As each man came inside her, he withdrew and another stepped up
to fuck her. Soon her pussy was full and cum dribbled out of her labia and down
her thighs. Pools of thick sticky jizz collected between her breasts and on her
belly.
Twenty or thirty men must have ejaculated on Becky before she was ordered to
climb off the table and kneel on the floor once more. Becky felt more degraded
than she had ever thought possible: kneeling naked and covered in cum before the
group of men who, she knew, had much more in store for her. The expression on
Becky's face was one of complete resignation to her fate.
Hoskins stepped forward once more, his cock again erect, and handed Becky a
large glass and ordered her to hold her beneath her chin. Another man stepped
forward, standing over Becky, and began to wank himself off, his cock aimed at
her face. As he did so, Becky was aware of other men moving closer, standing
around her, and also playing with themselves.
Within a few seconds, one of the men to her left had cum, hot globules of jizm
falling onto Becky's cheek. Other men began to cum, showering her hair and face
in cum. The man aiming at her face moaned and came, spurting streams of hot
spunk into her innocent, cum stained features. As soon as each man finished,
each stepped back and another man took his place.
Her face and body were covered in rivers of cum. Becky's body glistened as it
was showered in sticky jizz. Her hair was soon matted with thick globs of white
cum, her face a mask of cum. Cum streamed down her face filling the glass.
Soon it was full, cum overflowing and running down over the lip and down the
sides, covering her hands in cum. And still they came over her. Her breasts
dripped sperm. Whenever she looked up, coughing and spluttering as jet after
jet of white-hot jizzum splattered over her, all she could see were cocks.
Eventually, after what was around five minutes but seemed like an eternity to
the helpless cumslut, the crowd of men had finished with her and they stood back
to admire their handiwork. Becky knelt before them, her entire body coated in a
thick layer of sticky cum. She stank of it. Her hair was coated in it. It
dripped from her body onto the floor. She knelt in a pool of cum, still holding
the overfilled glass of cum she had been forced to hold. The only sounds she
could hear (although even her hearing was muffled, her ears being full of cum)
were the sound of cum dripping onto the floor and the laughter and rude comments
of the men around her as they savoured her degradation.
She heard Hoskins' voice again: "Lift that glass up above your head, cumpig."
She obeyed, trembling, lifting the glass up. "Now tip it slowly over your
slutty face, whore," commanded Hoskins.
Becky did as she was told. Looking up, she slowly tipped the glass and watched
as the cum oozed over the lip and down onto her face, enveloping her features in
a thick sticky tidal wave of cum. Becky was almost unrecognisable as the cum
covered her face. A thick viscous layer of cum poured over her, running down
her chin and over her breasts. Eventually the glass was empty and Becky opened
her eyes through the mask of jizzum.
But her humiliation was far from over. Even though she was coated in the sticky
ejaculate of over two hundred men, there was more in store for her.
The cum covered slut was ordered onto all fours. Spunk dripped from every inch
of her body: long viscous strands of cum dangled from her nipples; her hair
glistened with jizz. A large bowl full to the brim with thick cum was placed in
front of her. Hoskins dangled her house key in front of her face and then
dropped it into the bowl. Becky watched as the key slowly sank below the
surface of the cum to the bottom of the bowl.
"You want your house key back, slut," laughed Hoskins, "You've got to get that
slutty face into that bowl and get it out with your teeth."
Becky crawled resignedly to the bowl and looked down at it. The bowl must have
contained over a pint of cum, some of it no doubt the stuff that she had spoiled
through her thoughtless actions, some of it fresh. Trembling, Becky lowered her
face into the bowl. Her lips touched the surface of the cum. Slowly she
lowered her face into the spunk, cum pouring over the brim as she forced her
head into the bowl. Becky tasted the cum flooding her mouth, filling her nose
and ears. Desperately, she searched around in the goo with her tongue for her
keys.
Eventually her teeth found the keys in the goo and she lifted her face up out of
the bowl. The men applauded and laughed as she did so, her face a mask of cum,
the keys dangling from her mouth.
Hoskins grabbed the keys from her mouth and tossed them into a corner. He then
picked up the bowl and quickly turned it upside down on her head. Rivers of cum
flowed down over Becky's already coated hair and over her face. How humiliated
and silly she looked, the bowl on her head, kneeling before her tormentors, cum
pouring down over her face.
She was a complete cum covered mess. Every inch of her was plastered in jizz.
Her hair was matted in cum, her face almost unrecognisable beneath the thick
layer of cum coating it. Cum coated her body from head to toe, dripping off her
breasts, matting in her pubic hair.
Hoskins stood before her revelling in her total degradation. "So slut," he
said, "Have you learnt your lesson?" Becky nodded her head, the only sound the
cum dripping onto the floor.
"Good," said Hoskins, "Now stand up." Becky stood as ordered, rivers of cum
flowing down her body. "Your clothes are in the corner, cumslut," snapped
Hoskins, "Now get dressed and take your slutty ass home and think about what a
tramp you are. And don't bother getting cleaned up first. Put those clothes on
over your cummy body."
The men laughed as Becky dressed, her clothes sticking to her jizz-plastered
body, the layers of cum soaking through the fabric. She stood before them,
fully dressed, her face and hair still visibly plastered in cum, jizz running
down her legs, her blouse stained with cum. Then, like the cumslut she was, she
got on all fours and crawled out of the door into the night, the laughter of her
tormentors ringing in her ears.
Becky's Misadventures aren't over. Look out for further humiliating experiences
coming soon.
