Sore Loser Ch. 05

Ami glared up at the douchebag whose cock was currently filling her mouth, watching him gesticulate as he enthused to another houseguest about the brew in his hand as she slid her tongue along the shaft of his cock. When she had agreed to bet a week of sexual slavery with Kurt on a card game, she hadn't realized that the Hipster Douche she'd serviced to fulfill her bets that night was also accompanied by three other smugly ironic hipsters crashing at Kurt and Jenny's place. Kurt, intent on being a good host, had welcomed them to use her as their fucktoy, providing them with marginally more rules about the use of her body than he had laid down about the use of the fridge. When considering Kurt's rules about the coffee maker and freezer, Ami realized their guests had more restrictions on what they did when using the kitchen than when using her pussy.

After her initial fornication-based introductions to the houseguests, she had mentally christened each of them with a descriptive epithet, as much out of spite as any desire to distinguish them. Hipster Douche retained his title, joined by Insufferable Vegan Girl, Audiophile Asshole, and Craft Beer Jerk, the last of whom was still slowly thrusting his dick in and out of Ami's mouth. Ami tried to use her skilled tongue to provoke gasps or moans, as much to get him to shut up as to speed things up, but he seemed intent on prolonging this blowjob as much as his slowly-savored beer. And so Ami knelt before him patiently, allowing him to use her mouth at his own pace, feeling his cock slide along her tongue as he extolled the virtues of his overpriced and overflavored beer to Insufferable Vegan Girl. She nodded along, reaching down to pet Ami's head as Craft Beer Jerk's cock began to leak precum onto Ami's tongue. Ami rolled her eyes at the phrase 'flavor profile' and tried to figure out if gimp masks had earholes, and, if not, how to get Kurt to buy her one just so she didn't have to listen to this jackass prattle on while she sucked his cock.

Finally, at long last, his thrusts in Ami's mouth began to speed up, and his mind seemed to wander from his conversation. Insufferable Vegan Girl looked down at Ami, watching her face with interest as her lips tightened around Craft Beer Jerk's cock.

"Mmmmph, almost there," Craft Beer Jerk muttered before glancing to Insufferable Vegan Girl, "Where should I finish? Her face? Her mouth?" Ami tried to focus on using her tongue to bring him to climax, rather than listening to them casually discuss where on her body he would mark her with his cum.

"Oh, you know what would be totally retro?" Insufferable Vegan Girl enthused after a moment's thought, "a pearl necklace!" Ami scowled around Craft Beer Jerk's cock at the thought of her final degradation of this act being selected for such as quintessentially hipster reason, but consoled herself that at least she wouldn't have to taste his seed spurting into her mouth. As his cock thrust ever faster into her mouth, she had to suppress a smile at the thought of pretending to savor his semen in her mouth while mockingly describing it in similarly overwrought and pretentious terms to his beer.

Finally, Craft Beer Jerk pulled his dick out of her mouth and began to stroke it as his orgasm approached, and Ami obediently leaned back, thrusting her tits out while tilting her head back, presenting her chest as a cavass to pain with his jizz. After a few ore moments of masturbation, Craft Beer Jerk groaned loudly, and Ami could feel a jet of his hot seed land on her throat and chest. Another jet sprayed her chest again, followed by two more which landed on her breasts, and a final, weaker spurt which landed on her knee. She could smell the musk of his semen filling the air, and feel as the cooling liquid slid down her skin. A thick glob of sperm slipped down her breast and came to rest on her nipple, and Ami gasped in a shock of pleasure as she felt Insufferable Vegan Girl lick it off before standing up and giggling.

As she knelt in the center of the room, her body splattered with Craft Beer Jerk's seed, she was dimly aware of the sound of a car pulling up outside, and a faint sense of familiarity. A recollection of something important floated at the edge of her mind, evading her mental grasp until it finally hit her: band practice! And with Jenny here, that meant the car could only be Trent!

Trent was the newest addition to their band, a drummer who far surpassed their prior bandmate in a number of ways, most notably dedication, musical talent, and not being addicted to PCP. More saliently, he was the spitting image of the late Kurt Cobain, and the sight of him always gave Ami a lovely twinge between her legs. She'd been getting bolder in her advances with each practice session, and his receptive responses had culminated in a rather deliberately-timed admission that he was single. Ami had planned on making her move after this practice, but that had been before a night of poorly-planned wagers had led to her current state.

As the door swung open, Ami suddenly realized her predicament. The object of her desire was about to walk through that door and see her, naked, kneeling on the floor, with drying, sticky hipster cum splattered all over the skin, while Craft Beer Jerk was still pulling up his pants. Even if she could somehow think of an even remotely plausible lie, she knew the houseguests would betray her. Her cheeks flushed with shame as Ami saw him step through the door, glance at her, and stop dead in his tracks.

"What...the...fuck?" Trent gawked at the sight of Ami's subservient pose, the afternoon sun glinting off the semen on her tits. Craft Beer Jerk finished zipping up and turned to see Trent.

"Oh, hey, this is our house slave. Kurt won her in a card game," Craft Beer Jerk explained, as Ami fought to control her shame. Behind her, she heard a door open and Kurt's heavy footsteps approach.

"Hey, Trent, I'm guessing you must be a bit shocked and confused," Kurt smiled, stopping next to Ami and petting her hair with his hand.

"That's one way to put it, yeah."

"The short version is that after the party last night, there was a game of strip poker. Things got out of hand when the betting went from clothes to actions, and in the end, Ami bet a week as a sex slave and lost," Kurt explained, "her safeword is 'fold', because her refusal to do so got her here."

"And this is OK with her?" Trent asked incredulously.

"That's...complicated," Kurt prevaricated, before expanding, "The entire escalation was her idea, but when she lost to Asher, it was captivating. She clearly loathed him, but she was unwilling to renege on a bet, and the sight of her on her knees before him, with hatred in her eyes but his cock in her mouth, was submission like I'd never seen, by pure force of her own will. A few more bad bets and she was riding his cock and coming so hard I thought she'd pass out. She definitely gets off on it, on being used, but she needs an external impetus to push her into it, hence why I raised the stakes to her current servitude. She has a safeword and an assortment of soft and hard limits are taped to the fridge, so she's free to stop anything at any time, but her scowls are as much a part of the game for her as anything else."

Ami stayed silent, doing her best to maintain her composure and hide her embarrassment. A few days ago, she would have been loudly in charge of just about any room. Now she was naked, on her knees, her head thrown back and her tits thrust out, splattered in drying hipster cum, while her Master explicitly described her deepest sexual desires and her shameful actions to her recent object of desire.

"Would you like to use her?" Kurt offered, with all the gravity he would have used in offering a beer to a guest. Ami's heart froze and her mind raced as Trent seemed to fumble for an answer. Would Trent really be so willing to simply treat her as a sex slave? Should she safeword out? Could they have a relationship if they went from flirting last week to treating her as a cum dump this week? But what would it mean if he said no? Would that mean he was noble, or not attracted to her enough? Could she tell? Maybe if he knew what was in store, he'd be eagerly waiting once her service was done? Surely this would cut out a lot of shy fumbling about matching sexual preferences, and could lead to something more. After all, the thought of Trent tugging on her collar made her instantly wet.

"Would she be OK with it?" Trent asked Kurt, before looking at Ami. She swallowed her pride and put on her best slave voice, submissive yet sultry.

"This slave is here for your pleasure, and will serve in any way you please."

"Um, OK, that's definitely a yes," Trent muttered aloud, pausing in thought before finally coming to a decision, "I'd like to fuck you." Ami's heart pounded at his words, but she decided she would seize the initiative. Standing up, she winked saucily at Trent before walking over to the coffee table and sitting on the edge, facing him, her knees pressed together and ankles crossed demurely. She met his eyes before leaning back onto the table, pulling her knees up to her chest as her feet left the floor. Finally, after a moment of steeling her resolve, she spread her legs apart, exposing herself fully and directly, allowing him to see how she was already wet with excitement. She watched from between her legs as Trent slowly walked over, taking in her wanton display. She could hardly believe she was doing this, brazenly opening her legs for him and offering him her hole for his pleasure. He unbuckled, dropping his pants and boxers to reveal a respectably sized member, already hard, and knelt between her legs.

Ami gasped as she felt his fingers slide along her slit, as Trent coated them in her juices. After a few delicious passes, he adjusted his stance, lining his hips up with hers, and she felt the smooth, hot tip of his cock nuzzle against the folds of her pussy. He probed gently forward a few times, eliciting small gasps, before his cockhead found the right angle and slid deep into her pussy. Ami moaned loudly as she felt Trent penetrate her, sliding deep into her hole, her tight walls stretched by his shaft until his balls came to rest against her buttocks. Trent sighed deeply at the feel of her heat around his member, and placed a hand on each thigh for leverage as he withdrew, pausing for a moment before plunging into her again, forcing another cry of pleasure from Ami's lips. He drew back again and Ami wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling his into her as he thrust forward. His pace began to quicken, and Ami found herself grabbing the edge of the table to hold herself in place and meet his motions, reveling in the sensation each time his cock drove deep into her pussy.

As he fucked her, Ami looked up at Trent and wondered what he was feeling, other than the slick tightness of her hole. A few days ago, he'd seen her cool, capable, and in control of her life, her sexuality hinted at through the curve of her legs and glimpses of cleavage. Now, he could look down and see the same woman laying spread-eagled before him with his cock buried in her cunt, moaning like a whore as her tits bounced with the force of his thrusts. How would he reconcile the woman who demanded practice after practice until their songs were perfect with the slave who had eagerly offered her pussy as his fuckhole? As his thrusts sent wave after wave of pleasure through her body, she decided she didn't care, and only wanted to give him the ride of his life.

She could feel the hardness of his cock still growing and his thrusts becoming increasingly urgent, along with her own growing pleasure, and knew what was approaching. With a sly smile, she released her grip from the table and pinched her own nipples, hard, sending a surge of pleasure through her body which sent her crashing over the edge. As her orgasm rocked her body, her pussy walls spasmed tightly around Trent's cock, prompting him to drive himself deep into her with a groan as he came. Ami could feel Trent's hot seed squirting deep into her pussy, driving her orgasm to new heights at the sensation of his load filling her hole. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, their orgasms subsided and he collapsed backwards. For a moment, they both lay on their backs, panting, as Trent's erection slowly deflated and his cum leaked from Ami's freshly-fucked hole. Kurt smiled at the sight, then cleared his throat.

"So, now that Trent's finished using you, are you gonna get these amps set up, slave?"

"Fuck that," Ami replied through her satisfied grin, "I'm a sex slave, not a regular slave. Unless you're plugging them into my pussy, you can set up your own damn amps."