Porn and arousal had become Peyton’s entire life.  

 

She watched rape porn on the bus to university, sitting on the back seat and staring at tits and cunts and cocks as her pussy throbbed with arousal.  Sometimes she just pulsed her cunt with the vibrator while she watched these.  Other times, when she thought she could get away with it - or just when she was consumed by lust - her hand went between her legs and she would surreptitiously rub her clit through her panties, hoping that no one would notice.

 

She watched porn when she went to the toilet, sitting in a cubicle and eagerly fingering her twat as she pissed.  She watched porn when she went to lunch, sitting by herself in the university quadrangle, trying to position her bag or her sweater over her legs so that she could finger her cunt in public without anyone noticing.

 

In lectures she sat up the back and stared at video of women being raped.  She would put on her headphones and spread her legs and rub her cunt through her panties, and the things that she was supposed to be learning would wash over her, completely unheard.

 

And when she couldn’t watch her porn, she would *think* about watching it, and each slutty thought gave her permission to buzz her pussy with the vibrator, making her even hornier.

 

Peyton was always wet.  Peyton was always thinking about porn.  But Peyton was never allowed to cum.

 

And she was dressing like a fuckdoll, too, in accordance with Wyatt’s recommendation to make herself attractive for her teachers.  She needed to wear underwear to keep the vibrator in her pussy, otherwise she might have gone without, but she preferred tight G-strings now.  She wore tiny skirts that barely covered her ass.  She wore higher heels than she ever had before.  She wore tight shirts that clung to every curve of her tits, and she went without bras, so that her hard nipples pressed visibly against the fabric.  She wore slutty pink lip gloss and dark eye make-up and she looked for all the world like a rape-toy.

 

Each day she replicated something she had seen in porn and filmed it.  On one occasion, remembering flashing videos she had watched, she pulled up her shirt while walking from the library to the arts building and went the entire way with her jiggling tits exposed.  Four or five boys saw her, and stopped to watch.  

 

On another, she noted the phallic shape of an ornamental knob atop one of the campus’ traffic control bollards, and in the evening as it was getting dark she removed her panties and her vibrator and climbed atop the bollard, feeling the smooth metal stretch her cunt as it slid within her.  She bounced atop the bollard, coating it with her fuckslime, until she felt she couldn’t do any more without cumming.

 

On yet another occasion, finding herself alone in the campus gym late on a weekday, her eye landed on the gym’s small exercise trampolines, and she found herself stripping nude and doing bouncy star jumps on the trampoline, her legs spreading to show her cunt, her large tits freely flying up and down with each bounce.

 

But there were certain things that happened in porn that were much more central to the porn experience than anything that Peyton had done so far.

 

And so, on one Friday afternoon, after a lecture on sociology that Peyton had completely ignored while she watched a woman unwillingly deepthroating a black-man’s cock, she found herself making her way down to the lecturer even as the other students filed out of the lecture hall.

 

“Sir,” said Peyton.  Her head felt cloudy and her cunt was wet.  She wasn’t thinking clearly or rationally, and she had no thoughts other than that she needed this, to deepen her understanding of porn.

 

“What is it, Peyton?” asked the lecturer - a thin and handsome-enough man in his forties.

 

“Sir, could I… suck your cock?” asked Peyton.

 

The lecturer’s eyes ran over the departing students.  None had been close enough to hear Peyton’s offer.

 

“I was wondering when you’d get around to asking,” said the lecturer.

 

What he was referring to were the numerous “assignments” that Wyatt had submitted in Peyton’s name, which consisted of little more than confessions that Peyton was a bimbo and a slut, accompanied by videos of her masturbating.

 

But Peyton didn’t know that, and to her mind it sounded like it had been so obvious to everyone that Peyton was a slut that it was natural to expect her to whore herself out.  She flinched a little.

 

But her need remained.

 

“Please, sir?” she whimpered.

 

“Do you mean in exchange for good grades, Peyton?” asked the lecturer.

 

Peyton remembered that, yes, this was theoretically why she was dressing sexier.

 

“I guess?” she asked.  “But whatever seems fair to you.  I just… I want to suck your cock.”

 

So the lecturer took Peyton back to his office, where she stripped nude and knelt in front of him, and he pushed his cock into her mouth, and Peyton began to eagerly service it, until finally he came in her mouth and Peyton swallowed.

 

After that, Peyton sucked cock, or gave handjobs or titjobs, on most days.  Sometimes for that lecturer.  Sometimes for her other teachers.  Sometimes for fellow students.  She needed a new porn experience every day, and so in addition to giving a blowjob, she had to be *forced* to give a blowjob, she had to gag on a dick, she had to do it hands-free, and so forth.  She had to have a man cum on her face, in her eyes, on her tits, in her hair.  She had to hear a man call her a whore and a bitch and a cunt as he fucked her mouth.  She had to have a man slap her, and grip her hair and pull on it.  She needed a man to spit on her.

 

She hated all of this, at some level.  It was demeaning and degrading and it made her into a whore and she didn’t want to do it.  But at another level she was so horny, and she needed to understand porn, and also she deserved to be punished for orgasming from rape, and in all the videos this was just the kind of thing that sluts like her *did*...

 

For Wyatt’s part, he came to fuck Peyton whenever he liked now.  Ostensibly each visit was so he could write her assignments, but Peyton would suck his dick as he typed, and then he would pull her out from under the computer desk when he was done and throw her on her couch and rape her pussy, being careful to cum into her unprotected womb.  She hated this, and would squeal and struggle, but afterwards he would make her admit that she deserved it, and force her to thank him.

 

He had a copy of her door key made for himself so that he could come and go from her house at any time without giving her warning.

 

Peyton was still trying to resist admitting to new ideas about how to better consume porn.  Her mind was really struggling.  And yet he still got something from her every two to three days.

 

“I feel like I’m wearing more clothes than I need to,” said Peyton one day.  “I feel like for porn girls, naked is their natural state.”

 

“That sounds right,” said Wyatt.  “What are you going to do about that?”

 

“I feel like… I shouldn’t wear clothes at home,” said Peyton.  “Or anywhere where there’s no one to judge me for being naked.  Or anywhere where I’m allowed to be naked.”

 

Wyatt agreed absolutely, and after that Peyton stopped wearing clothes at home.  He took her to a nude beach the next day, so she could get used to being nude in public as well.  She didn’t take any clothes out of the house with her at all - he reminded her that no one would judge her for being nude if she rode in the boot, and she reluctantly climbed naked into the boot of his car.

 

Halfway to the beach he stopped the car and let her out of the boot, and told her it was silly to ride in the boot, when no one would see her if she lay down in the back seat of the car.  And then a little later on he told her they were out of town, and there was hardly anyone on the road, and she could ride nude in the passenger seat.

 

Once in the passenger seat, he encouraged her to watch her porn and put her headphones on and masturbate, and once she was lost in the porn he made a point of driving through a small beachside town where dozens of people saw Peyton’s naked tits at each intersection, and cars that paused next to them at traffic lights could see that Peyton was actively masturbating.  

 

Lost in her porn-addicted thoughts, Peyton never noticed.

 

And then they arrived at the nude beach, and Wyatt led the nude Peyton down to the sand.  That was when she discovered that no less than five boys she knew from university were already here.  

 

(It wasn’t a surprise to Wyatt, as he had let them know that he was bringing a nude Peyton to this beach at this time, in case they wanted to watch.)

 

The boys were nude too - it was a nude beach, after all - and Wyatt himself stripped naked.  And they all watched as Wyatt made Peyton apply sunscreen to herself, with a particular focus to her tits, her pussy and her anus.

 

Peyton was embarrassed and begged to go home, but Wyatt responded by threatening to drive off without Peyton and leave her stranded here, nude, with no phone or money.

 

“Be a good girl and ask those boys to play slut chasey with you,” he told her.

 

Peyton had no idea what slut chasey was, but she soon learned.  In alternating rounds, either Peyton had to chase and catch one of the boys, or the boys had to chase and catch her.  Catching a boy only counted if Peyton got her hands on his exposed cock and pumped it three times.  The boys catching her only counted if they got a finger inside her pussy.

 

The boys loved the game.  They didn’t run away from Peyton too hard - they enjoyed having her pump their cocks, and it was more fun to chase her than to run from her.  In chasing her, they loved to tackle her to the ground and grind their dicks against her ass and they forced their fingers up into her fuckhole.

 

As the sun went down, the boys changed the rules unilaterally.  Now Peyton had to get her mouth on their dick to catch them, and they had to get their cock into her pussy to catch her.

 

Peyton didn’t want to play anymore but Wyatt once again threatened to strand her there if she didn’t play along for an hour.  And so he watched with amusement as Peyton gulped the boy’s cocks as if they were the last food on earth, and then struggled and cried as they pushed her to the ground, forced her legs apart, and shoved their dicks into her.  

 

It never ended with just the dick going in, though.  They would each fuck her until they came.  And so by the time Wyatt was finally ready to leave, all of the boys had ejaculated inside Peyton, and she had had the experience of being a rape toy to five boys she would have to see at university every day.  And to Wyatt’s pleasure, Peyton had orgasmed from each and every rape.

 

Wyatt made her ride in the passenger seat and masturbate their cum up into her fuckhole the whole way home, even when they got near her apartment.  And he made her search for “rape impregnation” porn the next day.

 

Over coming days he helped Peyton work through the full implications of her “no more clothes than necessary” rule.  It meant that she should strip completely naked upon entering a woman’s bathroom, before entering the toilet stall, and leave her clothes outside the stall, not dressing again until she was ready to leave.  

 

It meant that generally, when riding in cars, she should strip nude from the waist down, because no one in passing cars would be able to see that part of her body.

 

It meant that when visiting friends she was obliged to ask, “Would you be okay with me being naked?”, and to undress if they indicated that was fine.

 

Slowly, Peyton came to understand that nudity was her natural state, and that clothes were an aberration that she only wore because society forced her to.

 

(TO BE CONTINUED)