The evening begins with butterflies in my stomach, each one whispering, "What the hell am I doing?" As I draw nearer to my destination, I will my body to regain composure. The instructions were clear, and I had studied the route meticulously. True to their word, the garage door was open, beckoning me inside. I parked my car at the end of the block, locked it, and began my walk, my heart pounding in my ears.

Approaching the garage, I noticed a remote control for the door mounted on the inside wall. In the center of the garage stood a stool, awaiting my arrival. I walked over to the remote, took one last look around, and saw the items laid out on the stool: a note, a blindfold, metal wrist shackles, and a small waste basket. Two security cameras in the corner watched over the scene, their lenses pointed directly at the stool. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and with a final resolve, I pressed the button. The garage door rumbled to life, sealing me inside.

I turned to the stool and picked up the note labeled "Final Instructions." Following the commands, I began to undress, folding my clothes neatly and placing them on the floor. The garage was cool, and the gritty concrete beneath my bare feet.

The note instructed me to masturbate into the trash can, ensuring I faced the cameras. As I reached my climax, I made sure every last drop found its mark. I wiped the tip of my cock with my finger, removing the final trace, and flicked it into the waste can.

The note read, "Now that you have removed any desire or pleasure you could have had this evening..." I secured the shackles around my wrists, their cold metal against my skin. I turned slowly, counting to five with each step, completing a full circle for the cameras' scrutiny.

I sat down on the stool and slid the blindfold over my eyes, nodding my head as instructed—a signal that I was ready, that I consented to whatever was to come.

I sat there, naked and vulnerable, for what felt like an eternity—5 to 10 minutes—before I heard the interior garage door creak open. Footsteps echoed towards me, and I felt hands checking my blindfold, ensuring my vision was completely obscured. The shackles were tested, given brief, sharp tugs to ensure they held fast. Without a word, I was helped to my feet and led forward, my senses heightened, my heart racing.

Once I reached what I believed to be the door, a voice asked if I was sure about this, if I consented to the night's activities. My voice was low, I affirmed that I did. The voice replied, "Good. Now lift your foot and step forward into the house."

Inside, I could feel multiple hands exploring my body, hearing muffled laughter and whispers. I was led to a stop and instructed to kneel. What happened next was intense: from the kneel position, I was forced face-first into the floor, ass in the air. I felt multiple hands pulling my ass cheeks apart, and then I heard someone say, "This worthless whore has a cute pussy." Another voice laughed in response, "It won't be once I'm done." With that, I felt the first cock slide in and it was forced deep. After about two minutes of hard and deep pounding, I heard the person grunt and shudder as he pumped me full of the first load of the evening. With a slap across the ass, I heard, "That's one of many, you useless cunt."

I lay there, listening intently to the sounds and feeling each thrust as he pushed against me, the tip of his cock slapping against my face. Suddenly, I felt a warm stream of urine hitting my face. I realized he was pissing on me as he was being fucked. Someone grabbed my head, placed their hands in my mouth, and forced it open, filling my mouth with the warm stream of piss. As his stream stopped, the person holding my mouth forced it shut, placing a hand over it. I resisted swallowing, trying to open my mouth, but his hand blocked me from expelling the urine. I was told to swallow, and I resisted further. Now with two hands holding my mouth and head in place, I could still hear the other person being fucked, realizing there were at least three men in the room with me. Then, the one being fucked grabbed my balls and squeezed, causing me to gasp and swallow a large amount of urine. As I did, the person released my head, laughing and informing me that I was now a piss-drinking bitch.

The two above me start laughing loudly and stop fucking. I can feel them move away, leaving me laying face up on the floor. I am then rolled over and helped to my knees. I am told to open my mouth as he slides his cock into it. In one motion, he pushes my head down on his cock, gagging me as I struggle. He pushes down harder, and then I am released; his cock is still in my mouth, but only the tip. I begin to suck on his cock willingly, sliding my mouth up and down his shaft. Just as I start to find my comfort zone, he pushes my head down again, holding it while I gag and struggle. He taps me in the balls with his foot, and I can feel myself gasp; his cock feels like it is down my throat, blocking my airway completely. Within a few seconds, he pulls out completely, ordering me to put my ass in the air, stating that I am too uptight for him to get his cock sucked the way he likes. He tells me he is going to fix that problem.

With my ass in the air, face down on the wet tile floor, I feel what seems to be a bottle being shoved into my ass. I can feel the fluid draining into me, and as the bottle stops draining, I feel some kind of plug being shoved into my ass. Suddenly, I feel the plug expanding inside me, trapping the fluid. Then, I get a swift slap on the ass, followed by the statement, "That should loosen up this bitch." I hear what sounds like someone else achieving climax from the side where the other two had gone. I hear someone sit on the floor in front of me, my head between their legs. They grab my head off the floor and place it in their lap, ordering me to open my mouth. I feel his cock slide into my mouth. I begin to struggle, trying to get this cock, now starting to soften, out of my mouth, but he holds my head in place. With something that feels like a leather rod, he slaps my ass hard. In the firmest voice and tone I have ever heard, he tells me his cock isn't coming out of my mouth until I have cleaned his other bitch's ass and juices from his dick. He lets me know that he won't wait long either and that he has other people to attend to. With another slap, he demands I lick him clean NOW!

I don't start immediately, and the lash comes again and again until the growing pain in my ass overrides my mind, telling me not to suck his cock. With one last smack of the whip, I begin to suck on his now-limp cock, using my tongue to get around every bit. Each time he feels me not giving 100% effort, the lash hits, driving me to suckle on his cock. After a few more minutes of me suckling on his cock, he begins to piss, holding my head down. I try to resist swallowing, but my throat opens, swallowing his piss as much as possible so I can at least breathe. I realize that the other one was right; I am a piss-drinking bitch. As he stops pissing, he pulls my head up and pushes me to the side like I was just a piece of meat. I hear him standing over me. He places a foot on my head and says, "This whore will be nice and relaxed soon. Once that cocktail of beer and GHB in its ass starts to work, that whore won't remember a thing."

He wasn't wrong. About 10 minutes later, everything becomes a faded blur. From that point until I awaken laying face down on the garage floor, I vaguely remember bits and pieces but nothing in detail. The floor is cool and gritty as I help myself into a seated position. I am wet, sticky, and have dirt from the floor covering me. I see another note next to me. It tells me to stand up and again present myself to the cameras slowly. My clothing is placed on the stool in the center of the garage; the note tells me to dress slowly. As I slide my boxers on, I feel my ass still leaking fluid. My ass feels sore, not just from the lashings, but my hole feels stretched and raw. My balls are a little swollen and tender. But the taste of piss, ass, and cum prevades my mouth and the smell completely fills my nose. I smell bad, really bad. As I put on the remaining clothing, I noticed my phone. It has been accessed and a new picture of me laying face down on the floor with cum leaking down my thighs and covered in piss was my new desktop background. Searching my pictures, I find a video of me laying over a coffee table; to my shock, a dog is licking my ass and then the video cuts to black. I was now shaking, and then the final screen of the video reads: "We have evidence of you doing naughty things that can make your life difficult. Keep quiet and nothing needs to visit the internet. You are now the fuck meat you wanted to be so own it."

To this day, I don't know the names or faces of any of the men who fucked me that night. It took nearly two weeks for the soreness and swelling in my ass to subside. Every time I tried to sit down during that period, I was reminded of the note: 'Own it.' It was true; I had been reduced to a fuck toy for their pleasure, and now I can't get enough. I'm addicted, and I don't care what a man looks like—whether he's big, little, or old—I want to suck his cock and let him use me to relax.