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A deep, aching heat pooled in her belly, shame mixing with pure, raw arousal. She clenched her fists, trying to fight it, but the need was there, relentless, throbbing between her legs. How could she feel this way? How could she want it after what they did to her? The more she tried to suppress it, the more the memories took hold, playing in her mind like a filthy, forbidden movie.

She bit her lip hard, desperate to push the thoughts away, desperate to cling to something—anything—to justify what had happened.

Dylan.

His name burned in her mind like an accusation. It was his fault. He was the reason she had done this. He was the one who betrayed her, kissing that bitch in front of everyone, shattering her heart, making her reckless, desperate. If he hadn't done that, she never would have gotten into that taxi. She never would have ended up on her knees, moaning around a cock that wasn't his. She never would have let those filthy men break her, ruin her, turn her into their little slut.

But even as she clung to that thought, she knew the truth.

Dylan hadn't forced her to beg for more. He hadn't made her spread her legs and moan like a whore. She had done that all on her own.

A sharp pang of guilt stabbed at her chest, but it was swallowed by something darker. Something far more dangerous. She had loved it. She had needed it. And now, lying in the aftermath, covered in the thoughts of her depravity, all she could think about was when she would feel that way again.

She needed to get out of bed. She needed to wash these thoughts away.

With a shaky breath, she forced herself up, wincing as her body protested. Her legs trembled as she stumbled into the bathroom, flipping on the light. The harsh glow flooded the room, and for the first time, she faced herself in the mirror.

The girl staring back at her was unrecognizable.

Her long, dark hair was a tangled mess, strands sticking to her damp skin. Her lips—swollen, slightly bruised—parted in shock. Her neck was marked with deep, dark bruises, proof of how Siddick had held her in place, claimed her.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Her nipples tightened beneath the oversized T-shirt she had thrown on, the ghost of their rough hands still lingering on her body. This is what I am now, she thought, swallowing hard. I let them ruin me. And I wanted it.

The shame threatened to swallow her whole, but her body betrayed her. A slow, hot throb pulsed between her thighs, growing stronger by the second. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to forget, to pretend none of this ever happened.

But her body remembered.

Desperate, she stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as she could stand. Steam filled the small space, wrapping around her like a cocoon. She closed her eyes, letting the water cascade over her, willing it to cleanse her, to erase the filth that clung to her skin.

But the moment her eyes fluttered shut, the memories came rushing back.

She could feel Siddick's hands on her hips, yanking her back onto his cock, his rough grunts in her ear as he took her harder, deeper. She could feel the burn of the other man forcing his way into her ass, stretching her open, making her scream. She could hear their voices, low and cruel, telling her she was nothing but a tight little whore made for their cocks.

Her breath came faster. Her hand slid down her stomach, trembling, until her fingers found the slick heat between her thighs.

No. I can't. I shouldn't.

But she was already lost.

Her fingers stroked her swollen clit, her hips bucking into her own touch. The pleasure hit her like a lightning strike, too strong, too consuming. Her free hand braced against the wall as she worked herself faster, harder, her mind still trapped in the images of last night. She imagined them behind her again, stretching her open, filling her completely, making her beg for more.

A choked gasp escaped her lips as the orgasm slammed through her, her legs shaking, her body convulsing. Her juices mixed with the water, washing away the evidence of her depravity—but not the desire.

The moment the pleasure faded, the guilt crashed down on her.

And then her phone rang.

She jolted, breathless, heart hammering as she reached for it. The screen lit up.

Dylan.

A sick wave of guilt curled in her stomach. Oh God. He was calling her like nothing had changed, like she wasn't standing here, fresh from cumming to the memory of being fucked like a filthy whore.

Her thumb hovered over the answer button. Her heart pounded. If she picked up, she'd have to pretend. Pretend she was still his sweet, innocent girlfriend. Pretend she hadn't been on her knees last night, moaning around other men's cocks. Pretend she wasn't still wet and wanting.

But as much as the guilt gnawed at her, a darker emotion bubbled beneath it—rage. The image of Dylan at the station, his hands on that slut, his lips pressing against hers like Ria never even mattered, burned into her mind. How dare he act like the caring boyfriend now? How dare he call her like nothing had happened? Like he wasn't the reason she had been pushed into that taxi, driven to that villa, and fucked into oblivion? The betrayal twisted in her gut, mixing with the shame, fuelling something hot and reckless inside her.

She clenched the phone tighter, her nails digging into her palm. Maybe she had sinned. Maybe she had let herself be defiled. But Dylan wasn't innocent either. And right now, she wasn't sure if she hated herself more for what she had done... or if she hated him more for driving her to it.

The phone kept ringing. She couldn't do it.

She let the call go to voicemail, tossing the phone onto the bed.

She should be ashamed. She should be crying. But as she lay there, skin still tingling, the only thought in her head was a terrifying one.

When will I feel that again?

Chapter 2 - The Slut's Transformation Lying naked on her bed after her shower, Ria stared at the ceiling, her skin still warm from the scalding water. The scent of her familiar room surrounded her, clean and untouched—but no matter how many times she had scrubbed herself under the shower, she could still feel them on her. The ghost of their hands gripping her, their thick cocks stretching her open, pounding her raw.

The soreness between her legs was still there, pulsing with every breath she took. Her throat felt tight, remembering the way she had choked, gagged, moaned like a desperate whore. She should feel ashamed. And she did.

But her body didn't agree.

Even now, her thighs were slightly parted, her bare skin prickling at the cool air, her nipples hardened from more than just the fading heat of the shower. She had cum thinking about it. Her own fingers had betrayed her, making her body tremble with release as she moaned to the filthy memories of last night. And now, in the silence of her room, the weight of what she had done pressed down on her.

She should move on. She had to put last night behind her. It was over.

But as she lay there, the guilt tightening in her chest, the anger returned.

Dylan.

His name slammed into her like a punch. The real reason this all started.

She could still see it—Dylan at the station, his hands on that bitch, his lips pressed against hers like Ria never even existed. And now, he was calling her like nothing happened? Like he hadn't fucking humiliated her? Like he hadn't made her feel worthless?

But then, a sharp pang of doubt hit her. What if it was her fault? What if Dylan had turned to that slut because she had been too closed off, too shy, too... boring? He had always wanted her to be more fun, more adventurous, but she had been too proper, too respectful, always saying no when he wanted her to go out, have drinks, dance, enjoy life. Maybe he kissed that girl because she was different—because she gave him something Ria never did.

The thought made her stomach twist. Had she pushed him away? Had her refusal to let loose, to embrace the fun, made Dylan seek it elsewhere? If that was true... then maybe this wasn't just about getting revenge. Maybe she needed to change. Maybe she needed to be the girl Dylan would never have to look away from again.

Her nails dug into the sheets, her jaw clenched tight. If he wanted to pretend, she could pretend too.

She needed to talk to him. To fix this.

Or at least... to convince herself that she wasn't the one who had ruined everything.

She sat up, her bare skin tingling against the cool air as she reached for her phone. The last call—missed. Dylan had tried reaching out earlier, but she ignored it.

Not this time.

Her fingers hesitated for a second before pressing call.

Dylan picked up almost instantly. "Babe! Where have you been? I've been worried sick about you. From yesterday I didn't hear about you at all. Are you okay?"

Babe. He still called her babe. Like she hadn't seen him touching someone else. Like she wasn't sitting here, completely naked, still sore from another man's cock.

Ria swallowed hard, forcing her voice to sound soft, normal. "I wasn't feeling well... I had a huge migraine and couldn't get out of bed yesterday. I'm sorry, babe."

The lie slipped from her lips like silk.

Dylan exhaled, sounding relieved. "Oh, shit. You should've told me, Ria. I was so worried. But I'm glad you're okay. Just take it easy today, yeah? It's Saturday, you should rest."

Rest? No. She didn't need rest. She needed to change.

She needed to be the kind of girl Dylan would never think of cheating on.

"No, I rested enough yesterday," she said, shifting her tone to something lighter, playful. "Why don't we go out tonight?"

A pause. "Out?" Dylan sounded confused. "Like, out where?"

She swallowed, steadying herself. This was the moment. The moment she stepped further into her own corruption. "You've always wanted me to come to the nightclub with you, right? I know I always said no, but today I want to do this."

Saying it out loud made it real.

Dylan was silent for a second before letting out a small laugh. "Wow. Are you sure you're okay, babe? That doesn't sound like you at all."

Because it wasn't her. But it was who she needed to be.

"I'm sure," she lied again, and this time, she liked the way it felt. "I've been too boring. I need to change that."

Dylan still sounded unsure. "Are you sure your parents will be okay with this?"

Another thrill ran through her. Lying to Dylan was one thing. Lying to her parents was something else entirely.

"I'll just tell them I'm studying at a friend's house for a sleepover," she said smoothly.

There was another pause, then Dylan laughed. "Damn, you're really serious about this, huh?"

She forced a smile. "I am."

Her heart pounded as she listened to Dylan's excitement build. "Alright then, I'll meet you at Rose Hill Metro Station and we'll go together."

"Perfect."

As she hung up, she stared at the phone in her hand. Did she just promise Dylan she'd go to a nightclub? Did she just lie to her parents without hesitation?

Who was she becoming?

And why did it feel so fucking good?

The sun had started to set when Ria finally stood in front of her mirror, wrapped in only a towel. Her heart pounded as she reached for her closet.

This was it. If she was going to be the fun, sexy, irresistible girlfriend Dylan wanted, she needed to look the part.

She pushed past the usual jeans and T-shirts, grabbing something she had never dared to wear before—a tiny black mini skirt that barely covered her ass, paired with a cropped top that hugged her tits so tightly it left nothing to the imagination. It had been a gift from a friend, a joke almost, something meant for wild girls, for confident girls, for sluts who didn't care if men stared at them. She had laughed when she received it, swearing she'd never wear something so revealing. But now, as she held it up against her body, something about it felt... right. Like it belonged to her. Like she belonged in it.

No bra. Her nipples pressed against the thin fabric, making her look more fuckable than ever.

Her hands trembled slightly as she applied her makeup—dark, smoky eyes, bold red lips. Something provocative. Something slutty.

When she stepped back and looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the girl staring back at her.

This wasn't the old Ria. This was someone new.

And she loved it.

But she couldn't let her parents see her like this. Not yet.

She grabbed a hoodie, zipping it up over her exposed skin. A disguise. A good girl on the outside, a filthy little secret underneath.

She sat in the metro, hood up, arms folded, but nothing could protect her from her thoughts.

The villa. The men. The way Siddick had pinned her down, his cock slamming into her.

The way her tight little asshole had stretched open for the first time, making her scream in pain, in pleasure.

She clenched her thighs, trying to fight it. But the heat was already there. The throbbing between her legs wouldn't go away.

She gripped the edge of her seat, biting her lip.

This was dangerous. This needed to stop.

But when will I feel that again?

The thought whispered in her mind like a dark promise.

She didn't have the answer.

Chapter 3 - The Tense Taxi Ride The metro station buzzed with life—an endless sea of bodies, voices rising and falling in chaotic waves around her. Ria stepped off the train, her heart hammering against her ribs, the weight of the hoodie she wore feeling heavier with every passing second. It wasn't just fabric clinging to her skin—it was shame, guilt, a desperate attempt to hide the filthy, corrupted thing she had become underneath.

Across the crowd, she spotted Dylan leaning casually against a railing, scanning the commuters with lazy ease. He hadn't seen her yet. He didn't know what was coming.

This was it.

Ria's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the zipper of her hoodie. She hesitated, her mind screaming at her to turn back, to cover herself, to hide the truth of what she was. But the new Ria—the filthy, aching, cock-drunk slut she was becoming—won. She dragged the zipper down slowly, letting the fabric fall from her shoulders and slip down her arms in one fluid, defiant motion.

The transformation was immediate.

Men turned their heads like wolves catching the scent of blood, their eyes zeroing in on her exposed skin, on the tiny black mini skirt barely hiding the curve of her round, fuckable ass, on the tight crop top that clung to her breasts, her perky nipples jutting brazenly against the thin fabric, announcing to the world that she was a little slut just begging to be used. Some men tried to be subtle, stealing glances. Others stared openly, hungrily, undressing her right there in the station with their eyes.

And Ria felt it. Felt their hunger, their lust, their filthy desires pouring over her like a tide.

Her pussy pulsed with heat, and she squeezed her thighs together, as if she could trap the filthy juices threatening to leak down her legs.

Then Dylan looked up—and the stunned, almost reverent look in his eyes sent a dangerous thrill through her. His mouth parted slightly, his gaze raking over her body, disbelieving, hungry, possessive.

"Ria... is that really you?" he breathed, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

A wave of emotions crashed through her—shame, fear, hesitation—but she crushed them down, forcing herself to stand tall. She could feel the rage boiling up from deep inside her, the betrayal she had buried now burning hotter than ever. Her fingers tightened into fists at her sides, then slowly relaxed as she forced a slow, deep breath.

No.

Fuck him. He wanted a slut?

Then I'll show him exactly what a slut looks like.

If he thought he could humiliate her, if he thought he could toy with her heart and move on to another girl, he had no idea who he was dealing with. Tonight, she wasn't going to be the sweet, shy girlfriend. Tonight, she would make him regret ever looking elsewhere. She would be the filthiest, most irresistible little whore he'd ever laid eyes on—and he would fucking crave her.

She stepped closer, swaying her hips slightly, her body brushing against his. She could feel his heat, his desire rolling off him in thick waves. She tilted her head up and brushed her lips against his, a soft, teasing kiss that left him frozen for a second before he kissed her back, harder, his fingers tightening at her waist, like he needed to claim her.

She had him. She fucking had him. And it felt so good.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes trailing over her bare thighs, the curve of her hips, the swell of her tits. "Damn, Ria... you look..." He shook his head slightly, still in disbelief. "I mean, you were always beautiful, but this... fuck."

She smirked, a dark little curl of her lips. "Different good?" she whispered, loving the way he drank her in like he was parched and she was the only water left on earth.

He chuckled, pulling her even closer. "Different fucking sexy. I can't believe you're actually dressed like this."

Good. Let him admire her. Let him ache for her. Let him pay for what he did.

But before she could soak in the power fully, Dylan said it—the words that made her blood run cold.

"Come on Ria, we need to grab a taxi."

A taxi.

The world tilted for a moment. Ria's stomach knotted painfully. No. No, not again. Not him.

But as Dylan casually steered her toward the row of waiting taxis, reality crashed into her like a sledgehammer.

He was there.

Siddick leaned against the side of his battered car, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, the smoke curling lazily into the humid evening air. His dark eyes locked onto her the instant she stepped into view—and the smirk that spread across his lips was pure, filthy possession.

Ria's legs nearly buckled. Her pussy clenched so hard it hurt.

She could still feel it. The way his cock had ripped into her, stretching her virgin pussy around his thick shaft, breaking her open like she was nothing more than a tight little hole for him to ruin. The way his friend had spit on her gaping asshole before ramming inside, making her scream around the cock stuffed in her throat. The way she had bounced helplessly on Siddick's cock while he forced her to take it, made her moan like a whore, made her cum like a whore.

Her body remembered. And it fucking ached for more.

Siddick took a lazy drag of his cigarette, his eyes dragging up and down her exposed body like he was already stripping her again, already planning which hole to fill first.

"Well, well, look who it is," he said, his voice smooth and thick, dripping with filthy amusement. "Good to see you again, Miss. You look... fucking delicious tonight."

Ria's face burned with heat. She could feel the moisture slick between her thighs, her pussy weeping pathetically at just the sound of his voice.

Dylan, clueless as ever, blinked and glanced between them. "Wait, you two know each other?"

Panic slammed into her chest. She forced a laugh, light and shaky. "Uh—yeah. My parents booked his taxi yesterday to take me to the hospital. That's all."

A terrible, desperate lie.

But Dylan just shrugged like it was nothing. "Small world."

Siddick chuckled low in his throat, tossing his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out beneath his boot.

"A hospital trip, huh?" His voice was thick with meaning, a cruel sparkle in his eye. "Well, I hope the experience was... eye-opening for you."

Ria squeezed her thighs tighter, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. Every word from his mouth dragged her deeper into the filthy memories—her body being pinned down, stretched, stuffed full, reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for men who treated her like garbage.

She slid into the backseat beside Dylan, her hands trembling slightly. The second the taxi rumbled to life, Siddick adjusted the rearview mirror, locking eyes with her, holding her gaze with a smirk that made her whole body pulse with need and shame.

"So, Miss," Siddick drawled casually, his eyes gleaming with mock innocence, "you must be feeling much better now. You seemed... a little fragile the last time we met."

Ria's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding violently.

Dylan, laughing, gave her a playful nudge. "Yeah, she had a bad headache yesterday. But she's better now."

Siddick's mouth curled into a slow, knowing grin. "Ah. Headaches. Sometimes they come from... too much exertion."

Ria squirmed in her seat, heat flooding her cheeks, her thighs pressing together helplessly. Her pussy throbbed against the tiny strip of soaked fabric between her legs.

He fucking knew.

And he was loving every second of her humiliation.

Siddick drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, pretending to be casual. "So, where am I taking you two tonight?"

"Grand Bay Nightclub," Dylan said, leaning back in his seat like nothing was wrong.

Siddick chuckled. "Ah, the nightlife... music, booze, sweat... a place where good little girls lose their innocence. Where they let go of all their... inhibitions." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "Lose themselves completely."

Ria's pussy clenched hard. She remembered—how she had screamed, how her ass had gaped wide around a thick cock, how she had begged for more even as tears streamed down her face.

Dylan laughed, oblivious. "Yeah, man. First time for her."

Siddick glanced at her through the mirror again, his smirk growing darker. "First time, huh?" His eyes devoured her body, lingering on the way her tiny skirt barely covered her ass, on the way her nipples strained against the thin crop top. "Well, it's always a pleasure to celebrate first times... especially when the girl is as sweet and tight as this one."

Ria gripped the edge of her seat, her breathing shallow, her whole body on fire.

She could feel the outline of her soaked panties pressing against her throbbing pussy, could imagine Siddick dragging them aside and shoving his cock back inside her, forcing her to take it all over again.

"Hope you're ready for tonight, Miss," Siddick said, his voice low and full of filthy promises. "A first night out... can change a girl forever."

Dylan chuckled, throwing his arm casually around Ria's shoulders. "She finally decided to let loose."

Siddick's chuckle was deep, rumbling, filthy. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure she'll be very loose by the end of the night."

Ria's whole body trembled. Her nipples were painfully hard. Her pussy was a wet, throbbing mess, aching for something thick, rough, and brutal.

And the worst part—the darkest, filthiest truth?

She wanted it.

She wanted to be used again. To be ruined. To be bent over and filled until she forgot her own name.

As the club came into view, Siddick gave her one final look through the mirror—slow, possessive, devastating.

"Enjoy yourself tonight, Miss," he said, his voice a dark, dripping growl. "You're going to remember this night for a long, long time."

He leaned slightly toward the window, locking eyes with her through the mirror, his grin widening just a touch. "And don't worry..." he added, voice thick with implication, "...I'll be around here all night. In case you feel that tight little body of yours needing another ride." Her throat tightened. She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice.

Dylan turned to her, grinning. "You ready, babe?"

Ria forced a smile, her heart hammering, her panties soaked with her own shameful arousal.

"Yeah," she whispered, stepping out of the taxi into the humid night air.

But she knew, deep inside, as she walked into the throbbing heartbeat of the nightclub—

She wasn't ready at all.

She was already ruined.

And it was just the beginning.

Chapter 4 - The Slut's First Nightclub Experience The club doors swung open with a mechanical hiss, and a wall of heat, sound, and pulsing lights slammed into Ria like a wave. The bass vibrated through her bones, low and heavy, like the rhythm of a giant heart beating beneath the floor. The smell of sweat, booze, and perfume clung to the air, thick and intoxicating, wrapping around her like a cloak of sin.

She hesitated on the threshold, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the chaos inside.

This is what he always wanted, she reminded herself. This is what I'm giving him.

Dylan slipped his hand around her waist, tugging her gently into the crowd. But as they moved deeper into the club, her hand instinctively pulled down the hem of her skirt—not that it helped. The black mini barely reached the curve of her ass, and with every step, it rode higher, giving teasing flashes of her round, toned cheeks. Her top was nothing more than a tight, low-cut crop—barely containing the swell of her tits, her perky nipples visibly hard against the thin fabric. She hadn't worn a bra. She hadn't needed to. She wanted the world to see her. To feel her.

And they did.

Men turned as she passed—some casually, others openly, hungrily. Their eyes trailed up and down her body, pausing on her long, smooth legs, the gentle bounce of her full tits, the barely-there skirt that clung to her round ass like a second skin. A few of them whispered to each other, nodding in her direction. One man bit his lip. Another adjusted his crotch.

She was being eye-fucked by half the club.

And her pussy throbbed at the attention.

She felt like she was on display—no, not on display... offered. Like a treat. Like a snack waiting to be devoured. Her skin tingled under their stares, her panties already dampening from the heat pulsing between her thighs. She had never felt this exposed, this hunted. And for fuck's sake, she loved it.

"Come on, babe, let me introduce you," Dylan said, dragging her toward a group of his friends near the bar.

She barely registered their names.

Her eyes were glued to the dancefloor, where women—half-naked, drunk, and dripping with sweat—grinded against men, their asses pushed into crotches, bodies moving in slow, erotic rhythm. One girl, clearly not wearing panties, had her skirt hitched up as her man dry-humped her from behind, his hands gripping her hips like he owned her. No one cared. No one stopped them. It was like the rules didn't exist here.

They're being fucked right in the open, Ria thought, her thighs pressing together as a pulse of heat surged through her core. No one even notices. Or maybe... no one minds.

Dylan handed her a tequila shot. "Come on," he said, smiling. "Let's get you loose."

She took the glass, hesitating for a second before downing it in one quick motion. The burn was sharp, hot, but she liked it. Liked the way it made her body feel warmer, bolder.

One shot became two. Two became three.

And the more she drank, the more the guilt faded, the more the shame melted into something darker. Something wet.

She couldn't stop thinking about yesterday—about Siddick's cock slamming into her pussy, stretching her wide as she moaned like a desperate whore. The way she had bounced on top of him, his hands locked on her hips as she rode him like a cheap little slut. The other man stretching her asshole open, ripping her innocence apart while her mouth was stuffed with cock, drool running down her chin. The brutal sounds of skin slapping, her own screams echoing through the room, the smell of sweat and sex and cum lingering in the air like smoke.

And I loved every second of it. - She thought

She turned slightly, watching the men nearby. One was tall, muscular, with a heavy bulge in his jeans. Another had that dark, dangerous look—tattoos creeping down his neck, eyes locked on her tits like he was imagining them bouncing while he fucked her raw.

Would they fuck me like Siddick did? What if they pull me onto their lap and use me right here?

Her body shivered.

The club was a jungle of sex. She was just another animal inside it.

Dylan was deep in conversation with one of his friends, his hand casually resting on her lower back—but his focus was elsewhere. Ria took the chance to slip away from the group, slowly walking toward the bar. Her heels clicked against the floor, her hips swaying with each step. She felt every eye follow her, every stare like a hand sliding along her thighs, cupping her ass, squeezing her tits.

She stood by the bar, pretending to be casual, but she knew exactly what she was doing. Her back arched slightly, her legs crossed just enough to make her ass pop. The men nearby couldn't help themselves—three of them stared openly, one even elbowed his friend and nodded toward her.

"She's a fucking tease," she heard one mutter.

"I'd wreck that little thing," said another. "Right here. Fuck her on the bar till she begs."

Their words shot through her like fire. Her panties were drenched.

They want me. They want to fuck me. Use me. Fill me.

And God, she wanted to be used again. She wanted to be bent over, her skirt pulled up, her soaked panties pushed aside, and a big, rough cock shoved into her needy holes. She wanted to be filled again—pussy, ass, mouth. She wanted to be nothing but a slut on her knees for these men who didn't even know her name.

She turned, her eyes scanning the club. Every man she looked at—she imagined what his cock looked like. How it would feel inside her. Would he fuck her slow? Or would he pound her like Siddick, hands around her throat, balls slapping her ass?

Her clit throbbed.

Her pussy clenched.

What if one of them just took me? Right here. Pulled me into a corner. Ripped this tiny skirt off and shoved his cock deep inside me while everyone watched? What if Dylan saw me get fucked in front of him? Would he stop it... or just stand there while I got ruined again?

The thought made her dizzy. Her legs felt weak.

Dylan appeared beside her again, holding another shot. "Hey babe, you good?"

She forced a smile, took the drink, downed it without thinking.

"I... I just need the bathroom real quick," she said, her voice breathy, her body trembling.

He nodded, distracted again by another one of his friends waving him over.

Ria turned and walked toward the hallway near the bathrooms, her heels clicking with every step, her round ass swaying like bait in the darkness. She could feel it—dozens of eyes on her, men undressing her with their filthy minds, picturing her bent over with their cocks buried inside her.

And she loved it.

Every stare was like a tongue against her clit. Every hungry look made her pussy weep.

She was a good girl no more.

She was a walking fantasy. A slut. And she was just getting started.

Chapter 5 - The Handicapped Stall The hallway near the bathrooms was dark, sticky with heat and the sour smell of sweat and spilled liquor. Ria pushed through the crowd, her thighs slick with her own need, her mind a frantic blur of shame and arousal. She just needed a minute. Just a moment to breathe. To collect herself.

But fate had other plans.

As she rounded the corner toward the restroom, she nearly collided into him— Siddick.

He leaned lazily against the wall, a drink dangling from his fingers, the smoke of a cigarette curling around his head like a dark halo. His eyes—black, hungry, filthy—locked onto hers immediately. The smirk that spread across his lips made her breath hitch.

He was still the same. Filthy. Dominant. Dangerous.

The heavy, raw stench of him—sweat, alcohol, cigarettes, pure unwashed masculinity—hit her like a drug, short-circuiting her thoughts and making her knees wobble. Every nerve ending in her body came alive, screaming with filthy memory: his cock ramming into her, stretching her tight virgin pussy until she screamed, his hand yanking her hair as he forced her to bounce on his thick shaft like a cheap little whore.

Her panties were already soaked. Now, they were fucking dripping.

She froze, but he didn't.

Siddick closed the distance in two strides, his free hand snaking around her waist and yanking her flush against him. His body was a wall of heat and muscle. His hand slid lower, slipping under her tiny black mini skirt like he owned her, like she was his. His thick fingers gripped her bare asscheeks, squeezing roughly, almost bruising her soft flesh.

A gasp tore from her throat, but she didn't move. Couldn't move.

Siddick chuckled darkly, his breath hot and heavy against her ear. His hand squeezed her ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"I knew you'd come back to me," he murmured, his voice thick with triumph, with pure male arrogance. "You couldn't stay away, could you, little slut?"

Ria whimpered, trying weakly to push him away, her hands pressing against his chest, trembling. "What... what are you doing?" she whispered, panic flickering in her voice. "Please... stop..."

Siddick only laughed, deep and cruel. He leaned in closer, dragging his nose along her neck, breathing her in like she was a feast laid out just for him.

"I know you want it, little slut," he growled, his voice low, rough, soaked in pure filth. His hand slid lower, fingers slipping under her tiny skirt, dragging slowly between her firm asscheeks.

He found the thin strip of her soaked panties, feeling the wet heat of her pussy leaking through the fabric, her juices coating everything.

"Don't lie to me," he snarled against her skin. "Your soaked little pussy's begging for cock."

Her eyes widened in panic. "M-my boyfriend... Dylan... he's right there," she whispered desperately, her voice shaking.

Siddick laughed—deep, dark, cruel. "Fuck that little nerd," he hissed. "You don't need a boy. You need a man to ruin this tight little body. You need me."

Her legs trembled violently.

She should have pushed him away. She should have run. But instead— she melted.

Siddick grabbed her face roughly with his free hand, forcing her to look up at him—and then he crashed his mouth onto hers.

The kiss was brutal. Possessive. He wasn't asking. He was taking.

Ria offered herself willingly, parting her lips and letting her tongue slide into his mouth like a desperate, needy little whore. He sucked on her tongue, groaning into the kiss, claiming her completely. Her hands fisted in his shirt, clutching him, needing him.

When he finally broke the kiss, she was breathless, dizzy, her pussy leaking down her thighs.

Without a word, Siddick grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the hall, shoving open the door to the handicap stall. He yanked her inside, locking the door with a heavy metallic click.

The stall reeked of bleach, piss, and mildew, the stench thick in the air—but Ria didn't care. Her pussy was pulsating so hard it was almost painful, her thighs trembling with need. Nothing else mattered. Not the filth. Not the shame. All she could think about was how badly she needed to be fucked, used, and filled again.

Siddick shoved her down onto the filthy toilet seat, forcing her legs open wide. Her soaked panties clung to her pussy lips, dripping wet, making a vulgar squelch as he peeled them down.

"Holy fuck," he muttered, staring at the mess between her thighs. "You're soaking, little slut."

She whimpered, trying to close her legs, but Siddick slapped her thigh hard, making her cry out and spread herself wider.

He dropped to his knees, grabbing her ass and burying his face in her wet, trembling cunt.

There was no slow build-up, no teasing. He devoured her immediately—tongue stabbing deep into her hole, then flicking brutally over her clit, then sucking her swollen bud into his mouth so hard she saw stars.

Ria gasped, her hips bucking against his face, her hands flying to his hair, yanking him closer.

He growled, shoving two thick fingers into her soaking pussy, curling them inside her until he found the sweet, swollen spot deep inside.

He fucked her with his fingers, brutally, mercilessly, pressing against her g-spot, rubbing and grinding and pounding her from inside while his tongue lashed at her clit.

The pleasure hit her like a sledgehammer.

She moaned—loud, filthy, desperate—her thighs trembling, her hips jerking uncontrollably.

It was too much. Too fucking much.

Within seconds she shattered, squirting violently all over his mouth and hand, her body convulsing on the toilet seat, whimpering, gasping, begging without words for more, more, more.

Siddick stood up, wiping her juices from his mouth with the back of his hand, a filthy, proud grin stretching across his face.

He unzipped his pants, letting his cock spring free—thick, heavy, dripping pre-cum from the tip.

Without hesitation, he spun her around and bent her over the toilet, yanking her skirt up and baring her perfect, round ass.

She barely had time to whimper before he shoved into her soaking pussy in one brutal thrust.

She cried out, muffling her scream into her arm as his thick shaft split her open again, stretching her walls wide, filling her so deep it felt like he was punching the air out of her lungs.

He fucked her mercilessly, slamming into her dripping pussy, grabbing her hips so hard she knew she'd have bruises tomorrow.

The wet slap of skin against skin echoed around the tiny stall, mixing with the muffled bass of the club outside.

"You're still tight," Siddick grunted into her ear, pounding her faster, rougher, like he was trying to break her apart. "Still a sweet little fucktoy."

Ria moaned helplessly, drool slipping from her lips, her whole body a quivering mess of raw, desperate need.

Then he spat onto her asshole, rubbing it with his thumb, smearing her own juices into the tight ring of muscle.

Without warning, he pulled out of her pussy and shoved his cock against her tiny asshole.

"Don't fight it, slut," he growled. "You know you want it."

He pushed, forcing the thick, wet head into her tight little ass.

Ria screamed against her hand, the burning stretch almost unbearable—but her pussy gushed at the violation, her body trembling violently.

Siddick grunted in satisfaction, slowly forcing more and more of his cock inside her ass, stretching her open brutally.

He fucked her there, deep, grinding, switching back to her pussy to soak his cock before slamming back into her asshole again, using her like a toy, like a fucking doll, like she was nothing but holes for him to claim.

Her mind broke.

Her moans turned into broken, desperate cries, her body losing control.

"F-fuck me..." she sobbed, grinding back against him like a bitch in heat. "Don't stop... please... I'm cumming... oh Fuck, I'm cumming!"

Siddick growled low in his throat, grabbing her hips even tighter, slamming into her harder.

"That's it, slut," he snarled. "Cum all over my cock. Make a fucking mess."

She moaned, sobbed, whimpered, her body shaking violently with another orgasm rippling through her—her ass clenching around his cock, her pussy leaking down her thighs.

Siddick pulled out eventually, his cock slick and throbbing, but he didn't cum.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him, her face flushed, sweaty, a drooling, ruined mess.

"You're mine now, slut," he growled, his voice low and dark. "And tonight... we're just getting started."

"What... what do you mean we're just getting started?" Ria asked, her voice trembling, barely able to catch her breath as she clung to the edge of the toilet.

Siddick didn't answer immediately.

He just stood there, smirking, his thick cock still out, one hand slowly stroking it as his eyes devoured her used, dripping, wrecked body.

She just knelt there, ass up, her holes gaping and pulsating, leaking with her own juices, her body wrecked and trembling—knowing deep inside she would beg for more before the night was over.

Chapter 6 - The Taxi Gangbang The door to the handicap stall creaked open, and the cold air of the hallway hit Ria's flushed skin like a slap. Her skirt was still bunched around her waist, her legs trembling, her pussy dripping down her thighs. Her panties were long gone, forgotten somewhere on the piss-stained floor.

Siddick towered over her, still hard, his cock slick with her juices. His voice was low, almost gentle.

"Come with me," he whispered. "I've got something better for you."

Her eyes fluttered, trying to refocus through the haze of orgasm and shame. "But... what about Dylan?"

Siddick chuckled darkly, tucking his cock back into his pants without zipping up, his hand still lazily stroking it.

"That little boy's still playing house inside. He won't even notice. You'll be back before he starts looking." He leaned in close, brushing his lips against her ear. "Unless you want him to see what a filthy little whore you've become."

Her breath caught in her throat.

She didn't answer.

She didn't need to.

Siddick pulled her skirt down over her ass, but she made no move to ask for her panties back. She didn't even think about it. Her legs were still shaking from the way he'd wrecked her pussy in the stall, and her body was buzzing with something dangerous. Something she couldn't control.

Lust.

Need.

Submission.

He took her hand, and she followed.

They slipped through a back door, hidden near the end of the hallway behind a curtain, away from the thumping music and flashing lights. The door opened into the back parking lot—dark, quiet, isolated.

Ria hesitated, glancing around the shadowy lot, her voice barely a whisper. "Where are you taking me?"

Siddick didn't slow down. He tightened his grip on her wrist and leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered,

"Somewhere I can show you what that slutty little body's really for...

Ria's breath caught. Her eyes darted toward him, panic and arousal mixing in her chest like a drug. "W-what do you mean?"

Siddick chuckled, low and cruel, never breaking stride. "I mean by the time we're done, you won't remember your little boyfriend's name. Just the taste of cock and the feeling of your asshole gaping open."

Her mind was a blur, her legs barely carrying her, still trembling from the brutal orgasms Siddick had ripped out of her just minutes ago in the filthy stall.

And they were there.

Five men.

Five rough-looking taxi drivers, leaning against their cabs, smoking, laughing, waiting.

Ria froze for a second as their eyes locked onto her—her messy hair, her smeared makeup, her skirt barely hiding the fact that she had nothing underneath.

Their grins widened.

"Well, well," one of them muttered. "That's her?"

Siddick smirked, giving her ass a firm squeeze. "Boys, meet our little gift for the night."

Her heart pounded in her chest, panic flickering under the heavy fog of lust. She turned to Siddick, her voice small, trembling.

"T-that's too much... I-I can't... I won't be able to..." she stammered, the sight of all those men caressing their crotch making her body tense with fear and filthy, traitorous excitement.

Siddick barked out a dark, cruel laugh. "You don't even fucking know what this slut body of yours is capable of yet," he growled.

Before she could protest, he grabbed her roughly by the waist and spun her around. His hand slid up under her tiny skirt, fingers pushing between her slick thighs—and without warning, he slammed two fingers deep into her soaked pussy, forcing a loud, broken moan from her lips.

She melted instantly, her legs trembling violently as her hips bucked against his hand, her body betraying her completely.

"See?" Siddick whispered into her ear, his fingers fucking her shallowly, making wet, obscene sounds in the silent parking lot.

"This dripping little cunt needs it. Needs to be stretched, filled, ruined."

He yanked his fingers out and wiped her slickness across her inner thigh, marking her, before stepping back.

"On your knees," Siddick ordered.

No hesitation. No shame.

The cold pavement scraped her knees as she knelt before them, her tiny skirt riding up to expose her ass completely. Her holes were still twitching, stretched and wet, and begging for cock. Her body already preparing itself to be ruined again.

Siddick unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock—still thick, still hard, veins bulging along its shaft, soaked in her juices. He slapped it across her face, smearing her own wetness onto her cheek.

"Open," he growled.

She obeyed.

He shoved his cock into her mouth, groaning as her lips wrapped around him. She sucked desperately, her jaw aching as he fucked her face, his balls slapping against her chin. Drool spilled down her neck as she gagged and moaned around his length.

Behind her, the men watched.

One by one, they unzipped their pants, pulling out their cocks and slowly stroking their huge meat—thick, heavy, each one harder than the last.

Siddick stepped back, pulling his cock from her mouth with a wet pop.

"Go on, boys," he said, waving them forward. "She's ready."

They didn't hesitate.

The first one grabbed her hair and shoved his cock deep into her throat. She choked, eyes watering, but didn't stop. She moaned around him like the little cum-hungry whore she was becoming.

"Get on all fours, bitch." Another man barked out a command.

Ria obeyed with a whimper, her knees scraping against the rough pavement as she shifted her body, arching her back just the way they wanted—ass high, back curved, holes exposed for all the men to see.

Her tiny skirt rode up to her hips, completely useless now, baring her dripping pussy and her twitching, stretched asshole to their hungry eyes.

The man behind her leaned in closer, spreading her asscheeks wide with both hands, spitting directly onto her exposed little hole.

Without warning, he buried his face between her cheeks, his tongue slapping wetly against her tight, used asshole, licking her like a man starved.

Ria moaned loudly, her whole body trembling, humping back against his face shamelessly, her pussy clenching and leaking even harder.

When he finally pulled back, wiping his mouth, he lined up his thick cock against her soaked, needy slit—and with a rough grunt, he slammed inside her pussy, splitting her open with one brutal thrust.

Her body jolted forward, a strangled cry tearing from her throat, but her cunt welcomed him, clenching down greedily around the invading cock like it had been waiting for more.

"Fuck," he groaned. "She's dripping. Who the fuck got her this wet?"

"She's been warmed up," Siddick said with a laugh. "You're welcome."

They fucked her together—one in her throat, one in her pussy—using her like a toy, passing her between them without a second thought.

Another man grabbed her tits, pulling her up by her nipples, twisting them as she moaned through a mouthful of cock.

"Look at her," one said. "Fucking bitch loves it. She's leaking like a fucking faucet."

They kept switching.

New cocks shoved into her throat.

New hands grabbing her hips and pounding into her stretched pussy.

Then came the ass.

One of them spit between her cheeks, spreading them wide. "Gotta see what this hole can do."

He rubbed the head of his cock against her tight, used asshole, still slick from Siddick's earlier invasion.

Ria tried to say something, but her mouth was too full of cock to speak.

All that came out was a filthy, choked moan.

He pushed.

Her asshole stretched painfully around him, her whole body shivering as he slid inside, inch by thick inch.

"Fuck... she's tight," he hissed, sinking all the way in. "Tighter than any bitch I've had."

Another man was already waiting at her mouth, slapping her face with his cock.

Ria didn't resist.

She opened.

Three men now—one in her ass, one in her mouth, one in her pussy.

Her body was nothing but holes, just like they wanted.

Just like she craved.

They passed her back and forth, flipping her over, stuffing her from every direction.

Her makeup ran in black streaks down her cheeks.

Her hair was yanked, her tits slapped, her pussy pounded until it was raw and stretched wide open.

She came—again and again—screaming, begging, moaning.

"Please—don't stop—fuck me—fill me—use me—I'm your whore!"

The men didn't hesitate. Her begging was like blood in the water, and they descended on her like a pack of starving wolves.

Siddick grabbed her hair and yanked her upright onto her knees.

"Open your mouth, slut. Show them how much you want it."

She obeyed, mouth wide, tongue out, drool spilling down her chin.

One man shoved his cock deep into her throat without warning, making her gag and sputter, but she didn't pull away. She moaned around him, her throat clenching as he fucked her face.

Behind her, another man forced his thick cock back into her ass, stretching her sore little hole wide open again, while a third slammed into her dripping pussy, soaking wet and desperate for more abuse.

Ria's body shook, caught between three thick cocks pounding into her holes, wrecking her, using her. Two more men stood on either side of her, shoving their cocks into her hands, guiding her fingers to wrap around their shafts.

"Stroke it, slut," one of them snarled. "Jerk me off while they wreck your filthy cunt," another growled.

Her hands moved instinctively, jerking them both, feeling their cocks throbbing under her fingers. She was completely surrounded, completely filled—pussy, ass, throat, hands—no part of her left untouched.

Siddick stood behind the pack, watching, grinning wide like a king leading his army.

"Look at her," he laughed. "Told you she was made for this. Just a hole for cock. A little cumdump bitch."

The men grunted and cursed, pounding harder.

"Fucking tight whore." "Her ass is sucking my cock in." "She's leaking all over my balls." "Take it, you fucking slut. Take it like the good little whore you are."

Ria sobbed around the cock in her mouth, but it wasn't sadness—it was raw, filthy pleasure. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she moaned and whimpered, her body twitching in orgasm after orgasm, her holes clenching desperately around the cocks wrecking her.

She pulled her mouth off the cock just long enough to gasp out between ragged moans:

"It's so good... it feels so good... I can't... I can't stop..."

The man fucking her ass grabbed her hips and slammed into her harder, deeper, while the one in her pussy grunted and grabbed her hair, yanking her back to arch her spine even more—forcing her to take every brutal inch.

Another cock jammed back into her throat, cutting off her cries and reducing her to wet, choking, gurgling sounds.

She was a filthy, trembling, cock-stuffed mess, completely broken and completely loving it.

When they couldn't hold it anymore, they started finishing.

One in her mouth, deep down her throat, groaning as she swallowed every drop.

Another groaned as he slammed deep into her ass one last time and spilled his hot load inside her, his cock twitching as thick cum flooded her asshole, oozing out and dripping down the backs of her trembling thighs.

Two more stood over her, jerking off until her face, tits, and hair were covered in dripping white cum, strands clinging to her lashes, dripping from her chin.

She was a mess.

A used, stretched, cum-covered slut.

And she had never felt so fucking alive.

Siddick stepped closer, stroking his cock slowly as he looked down at her, collapsed on the pavement, ass up, holes gaping, body twitching, breathing hard.

"You took them well, slut," he said, his voice low and approving. "You're ready for more."

She lifted her head slightly, cum dripping from her mouth, her voice hoarse and broken.

"More...?" she whispered, trembling.

Siddick smirked cruelly, slapping her ass hard enough to make her yelp. Without giving her a chance to catch her breath, he dragged her toward his taxi, his hand gripping her arm tightly, controlling her like a possession.

The taxi door creaked open, the stale, disgusting air hitting Ria's face immediately—the sharp stench of sweat, cigarettes, old cum stains and cheap cologne flooding her senses. The backseat was as filthy as she remembered—torn, stained, sticky—and Siddick shoved her down across it, bending her over the grimy cushions, her ass high, her face pressing against the disgusting seat.

Ria's whole body trembled. Her holes were leaking cum. Her thighs were sticky. She should have been disgusted.

Instead, she was soaked, aching, burning for more.

Siddick leaned down, his cock rubbing against her abused asscheeks.

"Call him," he growled into her ear. "Call your little boyfriend. Tell him you're taking some air outside because you're feeling sick. Lie to him. Lie to him while I claim what's mine."

She hesitated. Her voice cracked, barely a whisper.

"Are you mad?" she asked, panic and guilt flickering in her eyes.

Siddick's grin widened, slow and cruel. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered:

"Mad? No, little girl. I'm the only one giving you what you deserve. This isn't madness..." He dragged his cock along the crack of her ass, making her shiver. "This is justice."

He licked the shell of her ear, his voice dropping even lower, almost tender: "Think about it. While he was busy sticking his tongue down some other bitch's throat, you were crying your pretty little heart out.

Now look at you... he's worried sick like a good little puppy, and you're getting filled up with a real man's cock."

He kissed her neck, biting down just enough to make her gasp.

"This is your revenge, sweetheart. Making him worry while you're out here getting your tight little holes ruined by someone who actually knows what to do with them."

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her hand shook as she fumbled for her phone.

The line connected.

Dylan's voice came through immediately, panicked. "Ria? Babe? Where are you? Are you okay?"

Ria tried to steady her breathing, tried to sound normal—but as she opened her mouth, Siddick grabbed her hips and shoved his fat cock deep into her stretched, leaking asshole, splitting her wide open again.

She cried out—a filthy, broken moan—but quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, struggling to talk.

"I—ahh—I'm fine, Dylan," she gasped, trying to choke back a sob as Siddick's thick shaft buried itself deep in her guts. "It's just... the migraine... the music inside was too loud... I'm just outside... taking some air..."

Siddick grinned viciously, fucking her harder, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into her ass, the wet, obscene sounds filling the cab. His balls slapped against her, his cock pounding her relentlessly as she struggled to keep her voice steady.

Dylan's voice was frantic. "Where exactly are you? I'll come find you!"

Ria squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip so hard it bled, trying not to sob as Siddick slammed into her over and over again, making her whole body jerk with every brutal thrust.

"N-no!" she gasped into the phone, voice shaking. "Don't! I just... I just need to be alone for a minute... I'll come back in soon, I promise."

Siddick grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.

"You lying little slut," he growled, so low only she could hear. "You're getting fucked in your ass while he plays hero. How's that for revenge?"

He thrust even harder, grinding deep inside her guts, making her body quake.

Ria couldn't help it.

Her body betrayed her again.

She came hard—a violent, shuddering orgasm tearing through her body, her ass clenching and spasming around Siddick's thick cock.

She barely managed to keep quiet, her whole body writhing against the filthy seat.

And then, without warning, Siddick pulled out of her ass, grabbed her hips even rougher, and slammed his cock deep into her swollen, abused pussy.

Ria sobbed aloud, helpless, the line with Dylan still open.

Siddick grunted, slamming into her harder, faster, riding her through her orgasm, forcing her into another wave of unbearable pleasure.

Ria's voice broke in a desperate moan, her words tumbling out between panting sobs.

"I'm... I'm fine, Dylan... I'll be right... right back... soon... I—"

Before she could finish, Siddick buried himself to the hilt inside her pussy, roaring in pleasure as he finally let go—shooting his hot, thick cum deep inside her womb, stuffing her full of his seed.

Ria bit down hard on her hand to keep from screaming.

Cum oozed from her stretched, dripping pussy, running down her trembling thighs as Siddick pulled out, slapping her ass once more with his heavy cock.

She collapsed across the filthy backseat, used, filled, leaking, phone still clutched weakly in her hand, Dylan's worried voice still faint in her ear.

But it didn't matter anymore.

She wasn't his sweet little girlfriend.

She wasn't innocent.

She was a used-up slut, soaked in another man's cum, lying through her teeth while getting bred like a filthy animal.

And she had never been more alive.

She barely managed to whisper into the phone, her voice trembling, her body betraying her with every breath. "I'll... I'll be back soon, babe... I just need a minute..."

With trembling fingers, she ended the call and let the phone slip from her grasp, collapsing face-down onto the filthy car seat. She lay there, used, abused, leaking from every hole, her skirt bunched around her waist, cum oozing from her gaping pussy and stretched asshole, dripping onto the filthy upholstery. Her hair was a tangled mess, her makeup a smeared wreck across her tear-streaked face.

All around her, the men loomed—the pack of taxi drivers, still stroking themselves lazily, admiring the ruin they had created.

And there was Siddick, standing tall beside her, his cock glistening with her juices, a satisfied smirk on his face— a hunter proudly surveying his conquered, broken trophy.

Chapter 7 - The Ride Home The night air clung to her skin, thick and humid, as Siddick helped her up from the back of the taxi. Her legs were trembling violently, her entire body sore and shaky, her skirt clinging to the sweat and other fluids still leaking from between her thighs. Her holes ached—stretched, used, and still twitching from the brutal gangbang that had just ended minutes before.

Siddick smirked as he tossed her a cheap box of tissues.

"Clean yourself up, sweetheart," he muttered. "You look like a street whore after a $20 gangbang."

Ria didn't reply. She just reached for the tissues, her hands weak and unsteady. She wiped between her thighs, but the mess was too much to fully hide. Her makeup was ruined, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her panties missing entirely. Still, she smoothed her skirt down over her ass, adjusted her hair, and composed her face.

Then she walked back into the nightclub.

Each step made her wince. Her thighs rubbed together, slick with remnants of the filth she had begged for. But she walked with her head up—shoulders back—no longer the shy, innocent girl who had said no to Dylan's party invites weeks ago. She wasn't pretending anymore.

She was something else now.

She spotted Dylan near the bar. He turned the moment he saw her, worry plastered across his face.

"Babe! Where were you? Are you okay?"

She pressed two fingers to her temple and gave a tired smile.

"The migraine got worse. I stepped outside to get some air," she said softly.

Dylan gently brushed the hair from her face. "You're sweating," he said. "You look like you're in pain."

"I am," she whispered, then added with a soft breath, "The taxi driver... Siddick, and his friends... they took care of me outside. I feel a bit better now."

Dylan blinked. "Wait—what do you mean?"

Ria looked away quickly, pressing her fingers to her temple again. "Babe, the music is loud, and it's not helping... can we please go?"

He nodded, already moving to help her. "Of course, yeah."

"They gave me some medicine, that's all," she added quickly, her voice calm, almost rehearsed.

"That's so nice of them," he said instantly, wrapping his arm around her protectively. "Let's get you home."

As they exited into the parking lot, the group of taxi drivers were still leaning against their cars. Cigarettes lit, eyes gleaming. They didn't speak loudly, but their smirks said everything.

One of them muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Ria to hear:

"Hope she didn't lose anything inside her."

Another chuckled, "That boy's walking with our cum leaking down his girlfriend's leg and doesn't even know it."

Ria's cheeks burned, but not from shame. She didn't even flinch.

She walked past them proudly, her used holes aching, her skirt brushing her sore skin. Dylan opened the door of Siddick's taxi and helped her in, sliding in beside her. Siddick caught her eyes in the mirror.

"Feeling better, Miss?" he asked, his tone loaded.

Ria met his gaze. "Thank you," she said calmly. "For helping with my migraine."

Dylan nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, thank you so much, man. She told me she came outside and you helped her. Honestly, I was worried sick."

Siddick smirked as he started the car.

"Oh, I helped alright. Gave her something thick to swallow and something deep to relieve the pressure. The boys and I worked her through it real good."

Dylan laughed. "Well, whatever you did, it helped. Thanks again."

"She said you gave her meds?" Dylan added, glancing at Ria.

Ria gave a small, sweet smile, her voice steady. "Yeah. Out here in the parking lot. Siddick and his friends gave me something to take the edge off."

Siddick chuckled under his breath. "If only you knew how she took those meds... you'd thank me twice."

Dylan gave a clueless laugh and leaned back in his seat, none the wiser.

The taxi rumbled forward, cutting through the dark streets. Dylan rested his hand on her thigh, gently rubbing it. Ria's skin was still sticky, her pussy still sore. She said nothing.

She looked out the window.

The city lights passed in a blur, and her reflection in the glass stared back at her—smeared makeup, tender lips, eyes no longer wide with innocence.

She smiled.

Not a shy smile. Not a grateful one.

A dark, quiet smile. The kind of smile that came when you finally accepted who you were.

She wasn't Dylan's girl anymore.

She wasn't broken.

She was awakened.

The taxi slowed to a stop in front of a house. The engine idled.

Ria quietly opened the door and stepped out, adjusting her skirt over her thighs as Dylan reached for his wallet.

"Thanks again, man," Dylan said cheerfully, handing Siddick some cash. "Appreciate the ride."

"No problem at all," Siddick replied smoothly, his eyes already fixed on Ria as she started walking toward the gate.

"Hey," he called after her, voice low.

She turned.

Siddick crooked a finger, and without hesitation, Ria bent over slightly, leaning through the open window, her messy hair falling forward, her full lips still slightly parted. Her low-cut top clung to her chest, and her skirt slid high over her thighs once more, giving Siddick one last look at the little cum-soaked slut he had made.

He didn't smile this time.

He just looked her straight in the eyes and whispered—

"Told you, little slut. You were made for this."

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