Party Revenge

by Zephyr

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© Copyright 2020 - Zephyr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+/f; bond; fpov; vag; rope; bedtie; revenge; trick; dorm; party; naked; cons; X

He was furious with me, but I had it coming.

"I screwed up so bad, Mitch! I'll never drink at a party again. I'll never go to a party without you either. I screwed up really bad and I just want to make it up to you and make it go away!"

I was deeply, helplessly in love with him. Maybe too deep for my own good. Marcie had certainly told me that every chance she got. And it was I that had screwed up. Enormously. We both knew it. I couldn't undo it. I was never going to put myself in that sort of situation again, EVER. I just had to find a way for us to get past it. Anything. Anything he wanted. Anything at all.

"I'm so sorry!" I cried. "I was drunk, I wanted you, I was lonely, I screwed up, I'm so sorry. I only wanted you. I thought it was you. I only want you!"

I could see from the look on his face and his body language he wasn't happy, but he had reasons. I had given him reasons. He had gone on a two-week field trip, and the Friday of the first week, bored and lonely, I had gone to one of the Baker House frat parties we sometimes went to. Alone. And got deeply drunk. Way too drunk. Stupid drunk. And wound up upstairs there screwing Andrew Hill's brains out.

Andrew had just smiled thinly when Mitch confronted him, I had heard. "Yeah, I did. And I'm not sorry I did. I had a chance and I took it and she was great. What are you going to do about it?"

I had no doubt Mitch did have plans, he was that sort of bastard, but they'd take a little while to come out. But now he had come to confront me. I didn't know if he'd heard about it from our friends. I sure as hell wanted to tell him myself; the very worst thing would be for me to look like I was trying to hide it. So here we were, in the courtyard of my dorm, me in one of the thin micro-minidresses he loved on me and heels and no bra, clutching him, crying on his shoulder, telling him how sorry I was and that I'd find a way to make it up to him.

About the third time I said that he stopped me and looked at me coldly and told me he had a way for me to make it up to him. Anything, I told him. If he wanted me to jump off a bridge, I only needed a ride to the bridge. Anything. He told me if I'd do this, he'd consider me shown the error of my ways, how empty sex was without commitment. He still hadn't told me exactly what he wanted and I was already swearing I would do it. I was so desperate that even though I knew Mitch I didn't care. I'd do it. And we'd be whole again. And we'd be able to go on, back to the way we were. Past it. It was worth it, whatever it was.

So here we were at a Terrance Hall party, another frat house we sometimes went to. I had a role to play, and Mitch promised as long as I didn't blow it that at the end of the night my problems with him would be over.

Nobody at Terrance Hall knew about me and Andrew. I was beautiful as we walked in, dressed to kill in a red bandage minidress, the kind so short that you didn't dream of bending over in it (especially without underwear, which I naturally had none of that night), you couldn't even open your legs too far or walk too fast for fear the tight elastic dress would pop up to your waist with the expected disastrous results.

The top of the dress might as well have been a red strap bikini for how much was there. My generously large breasts made for a huge amount of cleavage and sideboob which I was uncomfortable about but under the circumstances I wasn't going to say a thing. I had used some double-sided tape to keep everything in place but when Mitch found out about it as he reached in to mess with me on the way over he had me pull it all off and give it to him. He promptly threw it all out the car window. I wished Mitch had let me keep it.

OK, I hoped I didn't fall out of the top and I was sure as hell going to walk carefully. No way I was going to jump up, I’d fly out of the top for sure. The dress itself was about three inches shorter a dress than I usually wore, short even for a micro, way too little fabric up top, but he insisted so I agreed. Three-inch matching red heels completed the look, along with judiciously applied makeup and nail polish, and Teresa back at my dorm had declared me positively mouthwatering. She recommended I take the aspirin now because I was going to be sore as hell from the sex I was going to get after walking around in that outfit. Nothing would make me happier than for Mitch to prove her right.

The plan was, we'd stay at the party and I would get reasonably drunk, but act like I was really drunk bad. He would pick a guy at the party and then it would be my job to get that specific male upstairs and to give myself to him, and have him come deep inside of me. Mitch would pretend to be called away from the party, leaving me alone there but really he'd be waiting outside and all I had to do afterward was walk out to the car. He'd give me a ride home, check to make sure the guy's cum was inside of me then we'd go home and I'd have proven my loyalty. I didn't even think about it. He had given me a get out of guilt free card and I would take it no matter what it read. Besides, I saw through it immediately. He would pick himself, and I'd be very happy to flirt with him a while, then go upstairs with him and screw his brains out, and he'd be welcome to unload as much cum into me as he wanted. That is why I was on the pill.

We went to the party. And I had about four beers, which gets me drunk and floating and a little crazy but I can still walk and navigate. I acted more drunk, being clingy to Mitch, which he tolerated which delighted me, and jumbling my speech a little at times. Plenty of people noticed me. Plenty of guys looked me over. Plenty of girls scowled at me, and I just smiled back, as I would if I were really that drunk. Played and fussed with my hem line, every once in a while reaching in publicly to adjust a breast because I was too drunk to realize what I was doing, and Mitch loved it and we both seemed to be having a good time. The nightmare was passing. This wasn't fun but I was really looking forward to going upstairs with him, getting thoroughly laid, and then going home and snuggling up next to him until our new morning.

But around 10:15 it all imploded. He pretended to get a phone call, then told me loud enough that people around me could hear that he had to go back into work for a little while, and that he'd be back. As he reached over to kiss me good-bye, he whispered "Jake Brownley" at me. Then he straightened up and walked out the front door.

I just stood there. I couldn't believe this. No, this was not how it was supposed to go. I was glad I had drunk so much; I was too woozy to chase him out the door screaming at him. I managed to collapse into a chair. The party around me, which had gotten silent for a second, resumed around me. Couldn't they see?

My head was swimming and it wasn't the beers. I felt cold. Like Elsa, I could wave my hand and create a crystal palace of the ice from the cold in my heart and happily live there forever. No, he really, really did walk away and expected me to jump into bed and screw someone I barely knew that he had picked for me?

Then it was hard to breathe, although I had enough alcohol in me that no one around me could tell. I felt like a thousand-foot high brick wall had fallen on me, each individual brick. I hurt all over. I wanted to throw up.

Then I felt ugly. A thousand-year old crone so hideous that people who saw me screamed and died. Here I sat, spent all evening with Mitch half-dressed, hell in this outfit quarter-dressed, playing my part perfect, and he was willing to walk away and let someone else fuck me? Wasn’t that how we got here?

And then I got mad.

Real mad.

Parachute flare lighting up miles of battlefield from high in the air mad.

Surface of the sun gone supernova mad. The alcohol did not help.

OK, Sure. If he wanted someone else's cum in me, I could arrange for that. Oh yes, I'd screw every fucking conscious male at the party, let him find their cum inside me, and then tell Mitch I was so done with him, that he needed to get a good look at my pussy because he was never, ever, ever, EVER going to see it again! Yeah, that sounded about right.

He thought he had me in a corner. Boxed up, ready to go. So stupid and stupid in love with him that I’d actually go fuck a stranger for him. I owed Marcie one hell of an apology.

I pulled myself together, plastered a drunk smile back on my face, walked over to Jake, who was talking to friends. He was there with some male friends and I was pretty sure he wasn't seeing anyone right now. He'd been drinking steadily and lightly and was probably buzzed to one degree or another himself.

"Jake, I need to talk with you for a minute. Come talk with me." I grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him toward the relative privacy of the back patio. He'd been eyeing me all night, stripping me naked (which didn't take much) like every other male at the party. He gave his friends a raised-eyebrow "Well, well, well" look and came with me.

I got him outside and into a quiet corner. "Jake, please help me. Mitch just got a phone call and took off. He said it was his work but I saw the number and it was his bitch ex-girlfriend Marlena! He's left me here, drunk, and gone to her!"

A complete lie, but from Jake's face it looked like it was working. Or he could see where this was going and didn't care. "Sure, what can I do?"

I snuggled in close to him. Full court press. Breasts rubbing against his shirt. "I know what she will talk him into doing once he gets there. And it should have been me. You like me, right? You think I'm pretty?"

"Oh wow, you're off the scale!"

I looked up at him, letting the alcohol flow through, acting shyly. "Prove it. Take me upstairs and make love to me."

He started, but recovered fast and I could see from his eyes that I had him. Or, I giggled a little inside, he was about to have me. I watched it flicker across his face to grab me and go, then he decided to play it cooler. I took one of his hands and put it on the dress over my breast and made his hand squeeze it. Then I stuck the index finger on that hand and stuck it in my mouth and started sucking sensuously on it, rubbing my tongue up and down the side of it. "Please?"

He broke like a crack in Hoover Dam. "Let's go." He took my hand and I walked with him back into the party and with his help up the stairs to the second floor. At most of these parties the frat hall's rooms upstairs were left empty as a spot where a couple could be alone. If the door was open and the room was empty the room was available. I weaved a little as he checked the first two or three rooms, then found one and ushered me in.

He closed the door behind me. I stepped out of the heels, then reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. He had nice chest hair, I spent some time running my fingers through it while he fumbled with the button on his jeans and his zipper. For some reason his co-ordination wasn't that good. It was probably partly the beer he'd had and the rest a compliment to me, so I smiled and started sucking on one of his nipples. His coordination did not improve. Once he had them down I stopped long enough to push them down to his ankles and sent his BVDs to join them. With the best part of Jake standing firmly at attention I pushed him into a sitting position on the bed then got down on my knees in front of him and started to work. My skirt popped up to my waist. Who cared about that?

He unzipped and pulled my dress over my head, I worked with him to get it off as I licked up and down on his pole and soon the dress was on the carpet beside me and I was naked. I worked his shoes and socks off and then the rest of his clothes while I continued the up and down motion that from the hands on top of my head he was enjoying.

Then he pulled me off and helped me on to the bed on my back. I smiled as I spread my legs. "I'm on the pill. No condom needed." I assured him and he took me at my word. He positioned himself and then pushed into a very wet and slippery part of me that was dying to get him there.

After about three strokes, I felt things were going well and in the proper direction. "Come inside of me, Jake, please! I just love the feeling when you are spurting deep inside of me. I want that. Do that for me."

"Sure" He mumbled. He was a little busy, so I didn’t mind.

Delighted, I stretched my arms up to the headboard to stabilize myself so he could pound me harder and found... rope? I gave a little cry and pulled it out, sure enough, there was rope coming from both ends of the headboard, about a foot of it ending in a loop that could be tightened. Jake looked at it. "Oh wow. Want to try it?"

I sort of shrugged. In fact Jake had no idea it was here, but I assumed he knew it was here and this was why he wanted this room, and wanted to tie me up. I was drunk enough and hurting enough to not care. He had gotten me well on the way to my destination already, and I didn't want to ruin the mood. "Sure, up to you." Without breaking rhythm, he slipped my wrists into the loops and tightened them down. A second piece of rope allowed them to be tied to each other, preventing me from using either hand to get to the edge of the headboard to free myself.

He stopped and pulled out for a second. He looked for ropes similarly placed at the foot of the bed, but found nothing there. He found them, though, tied to the bed rail feet at the bottom of the bed. The bed was narrow enough that he spread my legs real wide, wide enough that my knees were off the sides of the bed and my ankles could be brought down and tied to the ropes on the bed rail with my feet practically on the floor. I was already helpless with my hands tied, naked, and drunk. Not that I really minded, I was still drunk enough that I just wanted him to get back to working on my, our orgasms. But this way my legs were spread so obscenely wide apart that I was wide, wide open. I was starting to consider whether this whole rope thing was a good idea when he plunged back in and started back on me and nothing else mattered but the feelings.

Soon enough he came. Tied like I was, I couldn’t move my hands and my feet were tied in such a way that I couldn’t get to my hands with my teeth so I was stuck. I didn’t care. I felt him flex inside me. I smiled. Mission accomplished, Mitch you asshole! I had done what he wanted. But I was nowhere near done giving him what he was going to get.

Jake reached up to loosen the rope on my wrists but I stopped him. “I’m not done.” I told him. “I want more.”

“I can’t.” Jake complained. “I just came. It’ll be an hour or two before I can go again, at least.”

“Mitch is still screwing Marlena, probably right this second.” I informed him. “I want more. If you can’t do it, find me someone who can. Same deal as you. He’s welcome to have me as long as I can feel him coming deep inside me. No condom. I want to feel it.”

He looked at me like I had just grown an additional head but I looked resolutely up at him. “I’m serious. Go find somebody. Surely there’s someone else downstairs you know who would like to get their rocks off tonight?”

He looked down at me. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.” Hopefully Mitch’s, I thought, when he sees how much cum is in me. Just before I unleashed on him the bitching out of all eternity. They’d make movies about it.

“Ok.” He nodded. After he dressed he looked down at me, still tied to the bed, breasts puddled on my chest, legs spread obscenely wide. Pussy gaping. “Either someone else will be here within ten minutes or I will be back to let you go.”

“Works for me. Thank you, Jake!” He didn’t answer but was gone out the door.

Five minutes later a guy slipped in the door. I’m pretty sure his name was Larry. He walked up to me. “I heard...”

“Here are the rules.” I cut him off. “I am tied here and can’t stop you. Have fun. What I want is to feel you cum deep inside me; I love the feeling of someone shoved deep into me and spurting cum into me. If you do that, anything goes. If you use a condom or cum somewhere other than deep inside me it’s rape and I’m coming after you. Otherwise it’s beautiful. I’m on the pill so I’m not getting pregnant. I’m doing this for reasons that are good to me and don’t matter to you; I’m not going to talk about them. If all that’s not ok, please go find me someone who will and if you can’t find anyone come back and let me go. If this is ok with you, I’m ready and would love to feel you inside me. What are you waiting for?”

He looked at me kind of strange for a second and then looked again and saw a naked female stretched out wide on the bed willing for him to fuck her hard and let him cum. His clothes flew off and he climbed onto the bed on top of me. I smiled at him as he did.

In the end I got eight guys. All came inside of me. It was getting a little juicy in there by the end, which was just what I wanted. One of the guys was a little rough, taking advantage of me being tied up and helpless to pinch my nipples and hurt me while he pounded me. He too came inside me so I let it go. Finally Jake, who I had learned had been orchestrating the flow of guys up to my room, came back in and untied me. “No more guys to send up here. I’m not ready to go again, so it’s time to let you go.”

When I was finally free and had a chance to rub my wrists and ankles I went over to Jake and stood up on my tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. “I heard how you made this all happen.” I told him. “I owe you big time. Maybe take me out to dinner one night and I can say thank you?”

“Sure.” He looked like he liked the idea.

I put my dress and heels back on, tottered to the bathroom to pee off some of the beer I had drunk. I really did have to keep my legs squeezed together to avoid leaking cum. I texted Mitch. He was outside and waiting as promised. I told him I’d be right out, ready for an inspection, and I hoped he’d be happy with how I responded to all this...


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