|
Beauty Contest
|
you entered a beauty contest. In many such events, the chicks would have better faces and bodies than you. But let's say that's not the case in this contest. Let's imagine that besides you, the other contestants are girls who have smaller tits than yours, and thicker thighs.
But let's also say these girls have what you lack. Self-respect. Pride. Inner strength. They are not needy. Not ashamed. Not masochistic.
Those women all would be way sexier than you.
Men in the audience sense this. As you and the other women come out in bathing suits or gowns, as you walk around for their viewing pleasure, the men see the blush on your face. They see your desperation. They see the masochist in you. They sense your need for humiliation.
And whether they knew this consciously or not, the knowledge creates in them a wish similar to wanting to step on a bug and squash it.
The other women sense this in you too. They take an immediate dislike to you. And we know how cruel women can be when they band together in their mutual distaste for another female.
First, they would talk behind your back. They'd criticize your looks. They'd say what a clueless stupid cunt you were for entering the beauty contest. How dare you? Who did you think you were?
They'd also discuss what a slut you probably were (and how right they'd be!).
They'd make nasty little jabs at you in your presence. "Some girls think they're hot -- how pathetic." "Some girls think they can win beauty contests. Someone needs to break the sad news to them -- they're not all that."
But you would persist. You wouldn't drop out despite the women's nastiness to you. Part of that would be your pathetic need for attention. And part would be your hangdog willingness to accept their abuse.
And this would only make them more angry.
So, the day of the contest, this little ongoing drama would play out. Men would fill the audience. They would eagerly await the show.
But as the contest starts, the men pick up on both the women's hatred of you and on your own masochistic and shame-based character.
First, each woman walks out wearing a gown. The men see the pride and sexiness and cut-throat toughness in each contestant. Even though these women's bodies are even less impressive than yours, the men respond to the women's basic nature and feel attracted to them, turned on.
When your turn comes, you start to walk out and are tripped by one of the girls standing backstage. The men see that and know instantly that you are looked down upon. You blush with embarrassment. You try to play it down.
Your choice for a gown is more risqué than the other contestants' attire. The men sense instantly your neediness, your reliance on partial nudity to try and gain their attention. Their respect for you falls another notch. Their derision rises.
In the swimsuit phase, all the women parade onstage in their outfits. Unbeknownst to you, some of the women have cut a slit in the bottom of your one-piece, so that as you walk around, brief flashes of your naked ass crack appear. There are muffled guffaws in the audience. You hear a few of the girls laugh too. One says, "Serves the bitch right." Your anxiety rises. You're not sure what is happening.
In the interview portion, as you talk about your values and aspirations, the girls behind you roll their eyes and snicker. The men begin to join them. You hear laughter, snide remarks. You feel like crying but keep a smile glued on your face.
Finally, the men are asked to vote on the third, second, and first place winners. Each girl receives a round of applause, the loudness determining the winners. When it's your turn, there is laughter and a few sarcastic, slow handclaps. You smile stupidly, feeling exposed and humiliated. You again hold back tears.
The winners are brought to the front of the stage and receive sashes, tiaras, flowers, and applause. You stand in the back and wish you could disappear.
Just when you think the contest is over, the three winners call for silence. The first place winner says, "We want to take this moment to make a special award. Nancy, would you come up here?"
You are surprised and confused. You step forward uncertainly into the lights.
The winner says, "Tonight, we have a very special award. All of us girls agreed." Her smile has a cruel edge. Her voice too. "Nancy, it gives us great pleasure to give you this special award. You are the winner of the Dumb Ugly Cunt of the Year. Here's your trophy." And she hands you a big pink dildo with the word "Cunt" written on it.
There is a hot silence. You can see the other girls gathered around you, smiling with sadistic glee. Tears start to blur your vision. You hear a few hoots from the men. But most are silent. They sense something else is about to happen. You do too.
And it starts. The girls begin to spit in your face. One of them slaps you, leaving a red handprint. You just stand there, stupidly, awkwardly. A few tears trickle down your cheeks, mixing with the spit.
You are wearing your gown. The winner takes a pair of scissors and begins to cut sections out of your dress. She exposes your bra-clad tits, then your panty-clad puss. Your mute acceptance of this treatment reveals your own inner self-hatred.
The winner cuts holes so your nipples are exposed. She cuts the cunt and ass sections out of your panties, so that your ass and cunt peek through obscenely.
The winner then slaps you. She grabs your hair and pulls you to your knees. She pauses. Then she reaches under her gown and slips her panties off. She steps out of them and throws them to the crowd. She then says loudly, "Ok, pig. Show everyone what a slut you are. Get under my dress and start sucking."
There is a shocked silence. Everyone waits to see what you'll do.
You stare sadly straight ahead for a moment. Then you slowly crawl under her gown. A few seconds later, everyone hears the wet sound of you sucking and licking another woman 's pussy.
The other winners then ask the men to come up and help you "celebrate" your "award." The men don't need to be asked twice. They know a victim when they see one.
The contestants then encourage the men to use and abuse you. The girls smile at the men, kiss them, stroke their crotches, unzip their flies. A few of the girls slap you and hold your mouth open. A few others grease your cunt and asshole, holding your cheeks apart.
The girls encourage the men to shove their cocks down your throat, and up your cunt hole and asshole. "Don't be nice to her -- she's just a dumb slut."
The men abuse you roughly. As they do, the girls put their hands on the mens' backs, talk to them sweetly. These girls understand men and their needs, know that men need to squirt their hot sperm often. The men appreciate the girls supplying them with a chance to bust their nuts into a gutter slag who deserves it. And these girls are respectable -- they don't need to act like sluts to get men interested. And the men know the difference.
After each man comes, wiping his slick willy on your face or ass cheeks, the girl standing next to him gives him a kiss on the cheek and walks off with him. It's clear that these men want to spend time with the girls, are attracted, fascinated, bewitched.
Eventually, after the last man and girl leaves, you are left onstage. You remain on your hands and knees. Cum drips off your face and out of your holes. All is quiet. And then, finally, in a last moment of disgrace, you reach between your legs and rub your clit.
|
| |
| |
Posted on : Apr 10, 2013
|
| |
| |
Add Comment
|
|
|
Commented on Apr 10, 2013
great story! love to see a bitch like you with no self respect humiliated like this and you know you would love it too!
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
