"Plastic is wholly swallowed up in the fact of being
used: ultimately, objects will be invented for the sole pleasure of
using them. The hierarchy of substances is abolished: a single one
replaces them all: the whole world can be plasticized, and even life itself, since, we are told, they are beginning to make plastic aortas."
Barthe's Mythologies.
You're sitting back in a chair, and I am kneeling a few feet from you, naked. I am facing opposite the men that I hear. Their footsteps, nervous and soft, their chatter, equally as precarious. They are waiting. I am waiting. And you are commanding.
I put my head down a bit. My posture was perfect, but I look down just enough to see my body. My nipples are taught and tight, wanting to be touched and pinched and kissed and held between lips and teeth.
Out of my eye line, you wave over the first one. I don't know if you have instructed him, but he begins by walking on front of me, pulling out his cock, and unceremoniously placing a hand on the back of my head to pull me into it. He rubs his cock on my face and I wince, but open my mouth.
You have made your little girl available for use and I shall perform.
He puts his cock in my mouth, and I can feel it switch. It was only semi hard when he pulled it out and it's coming to full fruition between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I fight every urge to watch you watching me. I want to see you, but that is not the girl you have on display. You have a toy, a doll, who will make them cum one by one. Who will be used and consumed and depleated. You have a perfect hole who will do as you say and nod and not be a teary, whimpering little thing who is constantly begging for her Daddy.
And on the inside I will want you to touch me and fuck me. But I will want to please you more. And I will be prideful in my own right in a way that would, I know, subsume more than either of us will ever know. I will always strive to serve you because I am so proud to be owned by you. But I will always make myself proud, even in my pure degradation. I will always be proud of how low I will go because I know how strong I am and the strength that it takes to go so far down. I am too proud, but aren't we all?
He fucks my mouth and I being the ritual: I open my mouth, let him fuck me, and when he is too tired, I eagerly fuck him with my mouth. I am quickly letting a line of drool fall down my lips and chin and tits. I am quickly being made a mess and he is quickly responding.
"He may not cum in your mouth. None of them will cum in your mouth or inside of you. You will be covered."
I nod as I suck, and I can feel him acknowledging you. He fucks my mouth until he pulls out and I close my mouth. He begins to cum on my tits. I close my eyes and hear him groan and feel the splashes of sticky, thick cum cascading down my tits. As I am simply trying to feel each spray coat me, my hips are grabbed and I feel another gentleman begin to fuck me, sliding his cock inside and bucking hard.
And one by one they come over, using me. Each either fucks my mouth or my cunt, or they stand and jerk off while another does. Each moment is purely for utility. As I kneel I shift back to fuck harder, lean forward to suck deeper. I pull my hands to their cocks and balls and thighs and grip and stroke and tease.
Each cums hard. They cum on my tits, on my ass, on my back, and for the lucky ones - my face. I gag and drool and spit and tear up, but I do not stop myself or them from this exhibition of stamina and utility.
I keep my eyes forward as I am fucked. I keep my mouth open and available. As another cock slides over my tongue and into my mouth, I see another man standing nearby, stroking himself, just watching, enjoying my use from a few feet away. I imagine men behind me, I never know how many, getting hard and stroking themselves as they prepare. In my mind's eye I see hoards of them. I want to turn around, to see what I will be faced with but I refuse to move. I know it will only make me want to cover myself and curl up. I choose to focus on my tongue, on licking the cock in front of me, of stroking his balls, which are covered in my spit and trying to wipe my nose as I choke. The more I focus on the task at hand, the easier it is to forget what may be awaiting me.
I feel another man grab my hips and I whimper, letting myself fall forward. My body is beginning to give out. My knees are sore from kneeling, my jaw feels like it is about to seal shut or break off. Mascara and eyeliner are pooling in the tear ducts of my eyes and beginning to sting. My throat is feeling raw. I am exhausted. I want so much to just be left alone and curl up into the smallest of balls. To be melted down and only made anew. I will continue to let them use me as long as he commands, but I am turning into a rag doll as I find, and they see, the limits of my body.
I close my eyes and keep my ass in the air, but lay my torso onto the floor, resting my cheek on the cold tile beneath me, which is covered in a pool of my spit and tears and cum. I can feel it soaking into my hair and sticking to my cheek. I have never felt more base.
The man behind me stops and pulls out of my cunt. I let my hips sink down as well until I am laying on the floor completely. I struggle not to simply drift off, to leave this place and delve so far into my head I forget I was ever here. My mind is humming on a frequency I rarely find, and the white noise is all I can hear. My breathing is slowing and my heart is beginning to skip beats, out of rhythm but not out of order. I can feel my body sinking down, turning to liquid. I don't know where I am but I am not here.
I feel the slightest touch on my hip and I jerk, opening my eyes and taking in what is a painfully sharp breath in my languid state. You. I look up in a panic. I have collapsed. I am no longer of use. I am soiled by the cum of more men than I chose to count.
I watch as you pull out your cock and I struggle to get up. You shake your head, and I could not be more thankful. I would have trembled the whole time. I remain a puddle on the floor, unable to move, only able to open my mouth and wait while you begin to stroke your already hard cock. It is so beautifully swollen and I do want it in my mouth as much as I could never lift my head to take it. I shift, rolling a bit so I can at least swallow as much of your cum as I can.
I watch you stroke. I watch your face contort and tighten. I lick my lips, keeping my mouth wide for you. I want to taste you. I love the feeling of your cum shooting into my throat. I love swallowing every single drop, and I want, more than anything right now, to know I have pleased you.
You cum hard, shooting wave after wave onto my lips and tongue. I keep my mouth open and wait until you are done to close my lips, not wanting to miss a thing. You shake your head as my lips close.
"Wait."
I nod, letting your cum pool on my tongue and in my cheek. You keep your cock out and I wait, looking up at you, finding my focus again under your direction. I feel like a dog holding a bone.
"Swallow and close your eyes."
I nod, and savor the taste of your cum running down my throat and over my tongue. And then I feel it. I feel your hot piss cascading over my face, rinsing off the layers of dirt and cum and sweat and tears and spit and makeup which have covered me. I tilt my face up towards you. When you are done I feel a warm, wet washcloth, cleaning off the smears which remain on my face. I finally open my eyes, focusing them up on you. I feel anew. Christened.
You see the question perched behind my teeth. The only thing that matters and the only thing I want to know.
You nod. I can't help but smile. I am melting into a new form. And I will be cleaned and reformed and put back together. And then I will be used, and consumed again.
