Bully's Party Prize"

The basement was packed, thick with sweat and bass. I stood near the stairs, gripping my beer, watching *him*—Derek—push through the crowd like he owned the place. And maybe he did. Everyone here was his audience, his fucking entourage. Including my wife. She was wearing that little black dress I’d bought her, the one that clung to her hips, riding up when she shifted. Derek didn’t hesitate—his hand was on her waist the second he reached her. I saw her gasp, felt my stomach drop as he leaned in, whispering something that made her cheeks flush. Then his fingers dipped under the hem of her dress, sliding up her thigh while the music swallowed any protest she might’ve made. She didn’t push him away. I watched his other hand tug at the back of her neck, pulling her into a kiss so rough I could hear the wet, sloppy sound of it over the beat. Someone behind me laughed, clapping me on the shoulder like this was a goddamn joke. Then Derek pulled back, smirked right at me, and jerked her toward the dark hallway. She went without looking back.

--- Derek dragged Julie toward the center of the room, her stumbles swallowed by the pulsing bass and the jeers of the crowd. Someone shoved me forward, forcing me into the circle that had formed around them. Julie’s breath hitched as Derek’s fingers hooked into the thin straps of her dress, yanking them down her shoulders. The fabric pooled around her waist, baring her breasts to the heat of the room. His hands were rough, possessive, kneading her tits like he’d done it a hundred times before. “Watch,” someone hissed in my ear, but I couldn’t look away. Derek spun her around, pressing her back against his chest. His hand slid between her thighs, shoving the dress higher. A sharp gasp escaped her lips—I saw his fingers vanish beneath the lace of her panties, saw her hips jerk against his touch. Then he was unbuckling his jeans with his free hand, not even bothering to pull them all the way down. The thick length of him sprang free, already glistening at the tip. A groan tore from his throat as he shoved her panties aside and lined himself up. No pause. No hesitation. He buried himself inside her in one brutal thrust, and Julie’s cry was lost in the chorus of cheers. Her nails dug into his forearm, her body arching against him as he fucked her in relentless, deep strokes. The room reeked of sweat and sex, the wet slap of skin on skin cutting through the music. Derek’s eyes locked onto mine the entire time, his grin sharp as a blade. *“You see this?”* His voice was rough, mocking. *“This is what she really wants.”* Julie whimpered, her legs shaking as he drove into her harder. I could see every inch of him stretching her, taking her—**owning** her—right in front of me. And she didn’t stop him. Not once.

He pushed her forward onto her hands and knees fucking her and pulling my her hair. He cums inside of her and asks who else wants to fuck my bitch.

Derek wrenched Julie forward by her hair, forcing her onto all fours. Her back arched, ass raised high as he gripped her hips and hammered into her from behind—each thrust so deep it jolted her whole body. The crowd roared, pressing closer, hands reaching out to grope her tits or slap her ass. "Look at her," Derek grunted, fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back. "Fucking **made** for this." Julie moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he pounded her harder, the wet sounds obscene over the music. His cock throbbed inside her, and with a rough groan, he buried himself to the hilt, pulsing as he came. Hot streaks painted her walls, dripping down her thighs when he finally pulled out. Derek smirked, wiping his cock on her dress before shoving her forward onto the floor. "Alright," he announced, turning to the crowd. "Who's next?" Hands shot up—laughter, whistles, eager voices. Julie panted, still trembling, but didn't try to cover herself. A guy in a leather jacket stepped forward, already unbuckling his belt. "Fucking *mine*," he growled, dropping to his knees behind her. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. And she didn't even glance at me.

Leather Jacket gripped Julie’s hips and slammed into her with no preamble, his cock splitting her open with a wet *smack*. She gasped, fingers scrambling against the floor as he set a brutal pace, his balls slapping against her clit with every thrust. The scent of Derek’s cum still clung to her, mixing with the musk of fresh sweat and arousal. Then a hand fisted in my hair, yanking me down between her shaking thighs. “Clean her up,” a voice sneered above me. Julie’s pussy glistened—swollen, used, Derek’s spend leaking from her stretched hole. I hesitated, but a sharp kick to my ribs forced me forward. My tongue dragged up her slit, tasting salt, sweat, and the bitter tang of another man’s release. She whimpered, hips jerking as Leather Jacket fucked her harder, his cock driving my tongue deeper against her clit with every snap of his hips. “Fuck, that’s it,” he grunted, fingers digging into her ass. “Make her *suck* it out of her.” Julie’s thighs trembled around my head as I lapped at her, my nose bumping against the base of his shaft. Every time he bottomed out, her cunt clenched around him, smearing my mouth with more of Derek’s cum. The crowd’s laughter was distant, muffled by the wet sounds of her body taking cock—and my lips working between her legs. She didn’t push me away. She *arched* into it.

As he came inside her the women took over and started fucking her with strapon cocks and making her eat them

Leather Jacket’s hips stuttered, his cock twitching as he buried himself to the hilt. A rough groan tore from his throat before he pulsed inside her, painting her walls with another thick load. Julie moaned, clenching around him as his cum spilled out, dripping onto my tongue still working between her thighs. The moment he pulled out, the women descended. Hands grabbed Julie’s hair, yanking her upright as a redhead in a lace corset pressed a thick strapon against her lips. “Open,” she commanded, and Julie obeyed without hesitation, tongue darting out to lick the silicone head before sinking it into her mouth. Behind her, another woman—tall, with a predatory smirk—kneaded Julie’s ass before lining up her own strapon. She didn’t wait, thrusting hard enough to make Julie choke around the cock in her mouth. The redhead chuckled, grinding deeper. “Such a greedy bitch.” Julie’s eyes fluttered, her throat working as she sucked, drool dripping down her chin. The woman behind her set a ruthless pace, each thrust jolting the strapon deeper into Julie’s mouth. When a third woman crouched in front of her, rubbing a smaller toy against Julie’s clit, she sobbed around the fake cock, thighs shaking. I was still on my knees, watching, tasting the mess of cum and sweat on my lips. No one even looked at me.

The women began double penetrating Julie and telling her she is Derek's whore now and will be fuck call the time

The redhead gripped Julie’s hair tighter, forcing her to arch her back as the second woman’s strapon pistoned harder into her ass. “Derek’s whore doesn’t get a break,” she purred, dragging Julie’s face down onto the toy until her nose pressed into lace-clad hips. “Suck it like you mean it.” Julie gagged but didn’t resist—her lips stretched obscenely, spit slicking the toy with every desperate bob of her head. Behind her, the other woman let out a dark laugh, slapping Julie’s ass as she fucked her deeper. “Look at her take it—like she was built for this.” A third woman crouched, pressing a gloved finger against Julie’s clit, rubbing slow circles as the two strapons stretched her front and back. Julie whined, her body shuddering between them, her cunt still dripping cum onto the floor. “Starting now,” the redhead hissed, yanking her head back by the hair, “you’re Derek’s personal slut. You’ll spread those legs for him—or anyone he tells you to—whenever he wants.” Julie’s breath hitched, but her thighs fell open wider.

The redhead leaned down, her breath hot against Julie's ear. "Say it—tell us who owns this tight little hole now." Julie's moan was muffled around the strapon, her hips rocking back onto the other woman's relentless thrusts. The finger on her clit pressed harder, circling faster until her thighs trembled. The redhead yanked her head back again. "Say. It." "D-Derek's," Julie gasped, her voice ragged. "I'm Derek's whore." "That’s right." The woman behind her gave a final, brutal thrust before pulling out, leaving Julie gasping. The redhead followed suit, sliding her strapon free with a wet pop. Before Julie could catch her breath, strong hands flipped her onto her back. The women moved with practiced efficiency—spreading her legs, pinning her wrists, holding her open. The redhead smirked, climbing over her. "Good sluts don’t get breaks." She lined up the toy again, pressing the tip against Julie's swollen entrance. "Let’s see how much more you can take." A sharp thrust buried it to the hilt. Julie screamed.

The redhead rode Julie hard, the strapon slamming deep with each snap of her hips. At the same time, the second woman knelt between Julie’s legs, pressing another slick toy against her stretched asshole. “Fuck—both at once?!” Julie gasped, her back arching as the second toy breached her. “You think Derek’s whore gets a choice?” The woman behind her laughed, sinking the toy in deeper, filling Julie until her body strained around the double thickness. Julie’s scream dissolved into a broken moan as they set a brutal rhythm—one thrusting forward while the other pulled back, dragging her between them until every nerve was raw and alight. The third woman watched, lazily circling Julie’s clit with two fingers, pressing down just enough to make her thighs jerk. “Look at her,” one murmured, admiring the way Julie’s pussy and ass clenched around the toys. “Every hole belongs to Derek now.” The redhead leaned down, biting Julie’s nipple sharply. “Say it again.” Julie choked out the words between ragged breaths—*“I’m Derek’s whore”*—as her body surrendered to the relentless stretch, the pleasure-pain of being used exactly how they wanted.