Spilled Milk

Twelve people attended the surprise party, not including the host. Each of them brought a gift to share: handcuffs, a whip, a pack of cigarettes, a ball gag, an enema bulb, a dog collar, a cattle prod, a DIY piercing set, a leather belt, a butt plug, rope, and a video camera. All of them were put to good use throughout the night.

First came the party games, of course. The host was strung up by the ceiling, already collared, stripped naked, and crying as picture after picture was taken of her squirming body. The first game was to see who could make her scream the loudest. Everyone got a turn with the whip, laying red line after red line on her pale skin as she howled and begged. Back, stomach, arms, ass, legs, breasts... all were covered with a patchwork of bloody red welts by the time a winner was chosen. Their prize: to be the first to fuck her throat.

But that would be after the games. The next was to see who could make her cry the hardest, with first dibs on her soft cunt as the reward. This was when her nipples and pussy lips were pierced, when she was shocked with the prod until she pissed herself, when guests showed her the videos they’d uploaded to the internet with her real name and address attached, already receiving thousands of views.

And last but not least, the first to use her ass would be decided by the host herself, with everyone getting the chance to make their case. One guest kissed her thighs and neck with lit cigarettes before grinding them out against her nipples, and promised to spend the rest of the pack on her clit if he wasn't chosen. Another gave her such a large enema that her belly bulged, then plugged her up and beat her swollen stomach with the belt for twenty minutes, and promised to repeat the activity later with twice as much water and boiling hot if he wasn't the first in her butt. Another attached heavy weights to her new nipple rings, weights that made them ache and throb with every movement, and swore that they would stay on all night unless it was his seed that first filled her guts.

All of them were kidding, of course. They intended to do all of these things even if they were chosen. But it was such great fun to watch the host's feeble, pain wracked brain trying to function, trying to decide which of the many tortures would be the worst. She finally chose the man with the cigarettes, who celebrated his victory by putting one out on her tongue, and then informing her that not only was he still going to burn her clit, but he'd brought a second and third pack with him to make sure he could keep doing it all night. Everyone laughed and laughed as she cried at the news.

By the time the host was lowered to the ground, she was just a whimpering, sobbing, wriggling fucktoy. All three winners fell upon her, and she made no attempt to fight, just clenched and sucked and begged them to go easy on her. They didn't. When her screaming, agony ridden body was done wringing out all three loads of cum, it was time for the remaining nine to take their own turns, and everyone came back for seconds, and thirds, and fourths...

Hours and hours later, she was laying face down on her kitchen table, limbs bound to the legs beneath, half dead and soaked in piss and cum. Her twelve guests had perused her apartment, each choosing one keepsake to take with them as a parting gift, and having fun smashing, tearing, and setting fire to everything else. Her home was destroyed, her holes were ruined, and she was so out of it that even the cigarette kisses on her clit barely evoked a scream anymore. Everyone agreed, sadly, that the party was over.

As the last guest left, he gave the host a slap on her bottom, hard enough to make the bruised flesh jiggle and draw one final whimper from her tired, cum stained lips. “Happy birthday, slut,” he said cheerfully. “Let's do this again next year, yeah?”