Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
I gasped. Oh god, this was even worse than I anticipated. Twelve on one? Who … what …?
Mason winced as the story continued.
“So yeah, we were a bunch of depraved idiots. Using females. Logging it, then sharing them and comparing notes. It’s fucked-up, I know, and there’s no one who regrets it more than me.”
I snorted then. It was an ugly sound, filled with disgust and contempt.
Mason nodded, head bowed.
“It’s bad, for sure. But believe it or not, the fuck book thing was getting boring. So we decided to shake it up a little,” he said, taking a deep breath, “and that meant virgins.”
I stared at him, silence pounding.
“What do you mean, virgins?” were my slow words.
Mason shook his head slowly, eyes still regretful.
“It was a different kind of challenge, something to switch things up. So yeah, we hatched this idea that for the next iteration of the fuck book, we were gonna find virgins to take. And then, you know ….” He shrugged helplessly again.
But I wasn’t letting the big man off so easy.
“No, I don’t know,” came my snarled words. “Please tell me.”
The billionaire shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Good. He deserved the hot seat.
“So we were all gonna find a virgin, and you know, take a pic of her hymen.” He had the grace to blush then. At least he was embarrassed enough that a dark burn rose on those chiseled cheeks. “Then we were going to compare, and someone would win.”
I didn’t believe for one minute that things were that simple.
“Compare how?” were my sharp words. “What does that mean? Were you all gonna fuck the winning girl? Was that her reward for ‘winning,’ so to say?” I asked sarcastically, using air quotes.
Mason was unable to meet my eyes. But he nodded slowly.
“We were going to share the pictures,” came his pained voice. “We were going to pass the pics around, letting everyone take a look. And then share details of the girls, you know, how much they bled, whether they screamed, whether or not they were able to fit dick in the first time. Some girls can’t, you know,” he said swiftly. “Some virgins are so antsy and jumpy, that you can’t even get your cock in their hole.”
My soul curdled, eyes closing in pain. Because I wasn’t that virgin. I was an innocent who was a slut too, parting my thighs for him, urging him to put it in. In fact, I’d begged for it, if memory served me right. I wanted Mason’s cock so bad that I’d panted and pleaded, swallowing that ten-incher like a python devouring its prey.
Holy shit.
Humiliation swept through my frame like a savage fire.
The men had seen that, they’d seen Mason’s dick in my virgin cunt, nether lips stretched so wide as my puss creamed hotly.
I wanted to scream and pound the walls with rage, pull my hair out while kicking a hole in the brick.
But the pictures were already out.
They couldn’t be taken back.
There was nothing to be done.
So I took a deep breath, jaw stiff.
“And? So what happened next?”
Mason shook his head miserably then.
“I’m not trying to paint things over, but I want you to know that I didn’t share your pictures. I had them for sure, right in my pocket. But I never showed the guys your snaps, they didn’t see anything.”
Yeah, right.
It was a fucking lie.
I could feel it in my bones.
“Okay,” I replied, voice flat. “What else?”
Mason shot me a tortured look.
“So we all talked about our experiences,” he began.
“Including you?” I snapped.
“Including me,” he confirmed miserably. “And then a winner was declared.
“And was that you?” I demanded, eyes hot with anger. Oh my god, had he won this depraved contest on the backs of my parted thighs? On the stories of how much I’d bled, how I’d begged for his fat cock my first time?
But Mason shook his head vehemently.
“No, not even close. This other dude won because he had two girls. You know … identical twins who were virgins.”
And I vomited again then. This was so sick and depraved. I didn’t mean to, not all over Mason’s fancy jacket and suede couch, but the words nauseated me. This fuck book thing was just too much. Virgin twins who begged to get their hymens punched on screen? Girls who spread their legs for a price, who would let men do anything to them, no matter how humiliating?
I could see it already. The billionaires in a circle, hooting and hollering as slide after slide of depravity flashed before them.
Girls cooing and sighing, touching themselves.
Holding their pussies open.
Getting ready for cock.
And oh god!
One of those slides was me.
It had to be, Mason’s bullshit about keeping mine private was just that. A load of crap.
And trembling then, I got to my feet, trying to stay calm. Well, as calm as you can be when your mouth tastes like acid and vomit’s flecking your hair and chin.