Super-Trafalgar
Male, 60. Does your cunt get wet at the idea of being humiliated? Then you've come to the right place. Come in, sit down, let me take a good long look at you and then I'll start digging into your darkest, deepest desires. That may require your panties to be removed at some point. Disclaimer: despite getting off on such nasty things as female degradation, rapeplay and raceplay, I believe in consent and equal rights for all in the real world.
Hojo's game
hjojojo
Ok... here goes nothing; my response to @Super-trafalgar 's game. It's not as good as his, and it goes on a bit, but... I've done my best!
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I have nothing like these in my wardrobe, or didn’t before you insisted that I buy them, and worse still go *out* in them, in front of strangers. But that’s what I’ve gotten myself into.
The panties are perhaps the worst piece of underwear I’ve ever seen - utterly tarty and classless - and the skirt is at least one size too small for me; more than skin tight, with my tattooed belly spilling out over the waistband. That would be embarrassing enough if the tattoo wasn’t a horribly accurate picture of me on all fours, being mounted by a rearing stallion, which you had inked on me as I was helplessly restrained
If it was up to me, I’d never let anyone see it, but somehow it is up to you, and so the nightmare tattoo peeks out from between the tails of a tight white fitted shirt. I’m constantly on the verge of a freakout that people can see the whole thing through the thin material.
I couldn’t be more out of my comfort zone looking like this and being made to trawl bars under orders not to come back until I’ve been on the receiving end of a whole lot of cum, whatever it takes.
I hoped and hoped hard that no-one would even let me in looking like this; a bizarre mix of nervous, chubby geek and nasty slut. But somehow, I’m let in. I stumble over my lines with the first men I approach, definitely coming across as more geek, or maybe like I’m on some sort of a dare. But as I’m knocked back by a third confused and grinning bar-goer, I’m approached by a beautiful couple with cruel glints in their eyes.
“You seem a little… desperate?” he smirks. “And I think I know what you’re desperate for. We can make that happen for you.” God, I feel awkward. My pale face blushes red.
“Please… I’m… I’m not that sort of girl…”
“Really?!” says his female friend, half-trying not to laugh in my face. “Dressed like this?” She reaches down and pushes apart the shirt-tails hiding my worst shame, inked onto perhaps my worst feature. “You’re not that kind of girl, and you have THAT?” She reaches and squeezes the horse-fucking tattoo, taking a handful of my overspilling tummy fat in the process. “Just look down at that thing on your belly, and tell me what kind of girl you are, you gross, disgusting pig!”
“I… I guess… I guess I am that sort of girl…”
It’s not enough for them. They tease the words out of me like I have no will of my own, eventually getting exactly what they want from me.
“I’m… a… nasty, tubby, dirty girl who… who craves massive cock” I confess as I physically wilt in front of them.
“That’s exactly right!” she grins as she reaches down and takes my shirt tails and ties them up in a bow, leaving my belly tattoo completely exposed; even emphasised by my ridiculous tight outfit.
They each loop an arm around one of mine, leaving me no way to cover my stomach as they escort me away to my fate…
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Not long after, I’m strapped topless to a bondage bench in front of the cruel-eyed couple, my skirt rolled up extremely uncomfortably around my middle (but too low to hide my nightmare tattoo and my ridiculous butterfly panties on show. The man has my phone in his hand, adding me into a large Whatsapp group of his friends and associates, then sharing my location.
“There… they’ll start to arrive soon, and then they’ll take turns with you - one will whip your big fat arse with this”, indicating a red suede flogger, “then fuck your bucket of a pussy with this”, indicating a huge, intimidating and very familiar rubber horsecock, “and then they’ll take their turn at the front, firing their load all over your face”.
I groan audibly in a mix of fear and confusion at my own creeping excitement.
She pipes up: “Three at a time, they’re going to ruin you, and it’s going to keep happening until they lose interest in you. But don’t worry, with your piggy little body, and the state you’ll be in after the first ten or twenty shots of jizz over your face, and 30 or 40 minutes of your horsecock, I’m sure it won’t take too long for you to be rendered permanently undesirable… to pretty much anyone!”
It doesn’t take long for the addictive nightmare to start. The flogging of my helplessly jiggling backside isn’t too painful at first thanks to the soft suede, but the constant slapping of it across me by each new arrival, never stopping, soon has every inch of my meaty ass bright red. But I hardly have the time to think about that. Not after the first man to flog me moves to the next stage as the second takes over. At that point I've got something bigger front of mind.
The pure size of the thing pushing inside me is straining my body and my mind to their outer limits. I gasp, I groan and I beg him to be gentle as inch by inch the giant horse dildo starts to disappear into me.
My chief tormentors laugh to each other, right in front of my face:
“Oh my god, how loose is she?! She must have had things like this in her before, right?”
“I bet it’s the only way she can ever get off. I think this is what she spends her Friday nights alone doing to herself. She’s groaning pretty loud, but I think she loves it.”
“Do you love it? Do you love that epic dick destroying your pathetic twat? Tell us!”
Oh god… “I… it’s… it’s so much” I stammer as he maneuvers the thing in me. Somehow he’s able to make it good; to make me get off on it when I know that spells my doom. Just overwhelmingly good. “I… oh god… I like horsecock ruining meee!” I confess, as much to myself as to them.
I quickly lose track of time in what follows. Each new man to fuck me with the forearm-sized toy seems to find new ways to use it; twisting, easing in, pumping. Eventually, as my pussy soaks itself, it stops offering what little resistance it did at the start, and instead starts to devour the thing, almost sucking it deeper into me.
By this point, my face is soaked with thick wads of cum, each from a man fresh from doing his part to stretch and warp my sopping wet hole - a process that could leave him with absolutely no respect or true desire for me as he finished on my wide-eyed, sobbing and never-far-from-coming face.
I can only measure the time by the ever-increasing slickness dripping down my fat, pale thighs, and the pool of dripping cum that starts to form beneath my face; I'm losing my sense of reality, my dignity and myself - to constant slapping flogs, constant giant fucking horsecock and constant, contemptuous facials.
Somehow, sometime, the multi-orgasmic ordeal starts to come to a close. The perpetual flogging stops at last, and shortly after the mighty dick dominating my body is withdrawn with a humiliating sucking squelching sound. The last man to use me walks around to my cum-obscured panting face, holding the toy that has violated me so utterly in his hands. It is absolutely white with my slime; almost to the extent my face is with theirs.
“Kiss it thank you”, he sneers. I barely comprehend him. I’m jerked back to reality by a new feeling behind me. The woman has taken the full handle of the flogger, and slid it into the cavernous space in me left by the rubber stallion. She cackles as it moves around freely in the space left by the much larger toy. “Oh my god, haha, I bet you can barely feel this, you skank bitch! This is amazing, your body is wrecked! Maybe forever!”
Her words, and the vague feeling of fucking by the mere 6” of handle in my numb cunt, jerk me back to reality and the man in front of me, holding the horsecock coated in my cum. “Kiss it”, he insists. My body, helpless for so long, has almost forgotten how to respond to my commands, but after several seconds I manage to slowly pucker my lips until he mashes my rubber king into them, mixing my filth with theirs on my face.
The man from the bar walks over, showing me my photograph on my own phone’s lock screen - a perfectly-timed picture of me howling in guttural orgasm as I’m rammed with horse dick and hosed with cum.
“I’ve changed your password”, he says. “I can’t wait to see you take it into the shop to ask for it to be unlocked.”
“Hah, and you should hear your new ringtone!” giggles his girl, still wiggling the flogger freely inside me.
“But you’ll want to get it unlocked. For starters, you can’t turn your location-sharing off until you do. And if it’s not done in 48 hours, this phone is going to start emailing a lot more than just photos of your evening to pretty much your whole contact list.”
“I’m not sure they’d be surprised, though - after all, you are that sort of girl now, whether you want to be or not!”
I have yet to post my thoughts on this post by hojo, which is shockingly remiss of me, given the effort she put into producing it and the trepidation she had in posting it.
The girl did good is my short précis. And what I mean by that is she obeyed the rules of the game and managed to humiliate herself for our mutual pleasure. @HumiliationAllWays , perceptive as ever, got to the heart of the matter in his reblog with the comment:
You seem quite aware of your meaty ass and your belly fat. The image you described of the couple grabbing your belly and exposing your tattoo was unusual and compelling.
Embarrassing hojo about her fatness and the (admittedly fantasised) tattoo of her being mounted by a horse, all taken together with her tasteless, classless and altogether skanky outfit which she is compelled to wear as she trawls the floor for someone to use her, is a surefire way to get her cunt to start clenching with forbidden desires.
Being in the clutches of a cruel couple whose sole purpose is to use hojo as entertainment for the night gets her cunt dripping.
Having a massively oversized dick forced into her cunt while a succession of anonymous men shoot their loads over her has her touching herself and moaning out loud.
And finally, having the woman who instigated this session with her, crowing over how stretched and useless her cunt now is, while she is forced to lick her own cunt juices off the horse-cock that ruined her, has her running to get her vibrator out of her box of sex toys.
I like to think that this fantasy will stay with her for a very long time and she'll spend many, many hours with her panties pulled and her legs spread, re-imagining the ignominy of how she was used.
(Previous post is here. I would re-blog, but having tried twice so far, it's flat-out refused to add my comments.)
After some extended conversation yesterday with hojo, it turns out that I won that game. Actually, according to her - and not to boast because I'm a modest sort of chap at heart - I won it by quite some way. So that means I get to choose the next round. I thought I'd take a few liberties with the rules though, because, let's face it, they are a little bit vague. Besides, if you can't take some liberties everyone now and then after romping home miles ahead of the competition, then what's the point of living?
Anyway, on the with the game! We're going to have a (mostly) new list. But the key change is that hojo herself is going to answer this one - and she's already agreed to that, silly her. So, hojo, this is directed at you.
The items that you carry over from the old list are:
The new items on the list are:
And, finally, this is the item you don't have, but must obtain by game end:
To amuse us (well me, mostly) you should attach photos of the selected clothing. You are excused from having to appear in said clothing yourself, but if you choose not to, then should tell us what you would look like if you did appear in said clothing.
Good luck, and may the best man win!