Annabelle's Coup de Grace: Stephen's Final Humiliation
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
Annabelle and her friends break Stephen once and for all


* * *

WARNING/DISCLAIMER: This story contains scenes of extreme humiliation of a
male, including rape. If that is not what you're into, you have been warned.
This story is for adults only!

This story is a fantasy. Obviously, I do not condone the cruelty and bullying
behavior in the story by anyone in real life. This is just something I wrote
to explore the depths of male humiliation, primarily at the hands of females.
The best way to instantly "get" the difference between fantasy and reality is
to think of the difference between riding a roller coaster and jumping off a
cliff.

Now, on to the story!

* * *

"Porno boy! Porno boy! Short-dicked faggot porno boy!"

The shouts echoed over and over as Stephen ran down the hall at work, crying
his eyes out. After Annabelle, Cassie, and May had forced him to engage in
various sexually humiliating acts and filmed them, they had not only posted
the videos on the Internet, but also "anonymously" emailed copies to every one
of his coworkers. When he had shown up for work that morning, he had gotten a
very unpleasant surprise indeed.

"Porno boy! Porno boy! Short-dicked faggot porno boy!"

The shouts continued, from a new office this time. He couldn't get away.
Flashbacks to high school, where he had been teased and bullied mercilessly
because of his short height, scrawny body, lack of athletic skill, lack of
talent in general, and complete failure with the opposite sex, raced through
his mind. It was supposed to get better when he entered adult life, he thought
miserably. But it didn't. If anything, it was even worse.

A stream of thick, white liquid suddenly hit him right in the face. Turning,
trying to wipe his eyes of both the tears and this new substance, he saw one
of his female coworkers, a petite and pretty brunette, holding an open
container of whipped cream. "Saw the video. Heard you liked facials, Stephen.
Oh, I'm sorry. That should be Stephanie." Laughing loudly, she high-fived the
men and women around her. All of the girls were hot and all of the guys were
tall and strong. The popular kids. Just like high school.

But there was no sympathy from anyone. As he passed the office of one of the
older women, older but still pretty, a very mature lady, someone who hadn't
bullied him yet, she gave him a smile and a faint hope rose within him. It was
dashed a second later, of course, when she smirked, "Going for a run? Does
your butthole hurt too much for you to sit after last night's activities?"

He ran towards the exit. The receptionist, a sexy young Latina, one of the
popular ones, one of the bullies, didn't let him off. "What's the rush, short
cock? Guys will let you suck their dicks after work."

He stormed up to her. "Tell the boss I QUIT!" He threw his badge down on her
desk, then turned to leave, wanting to make a dramatic scene. Unfortunately
for him, the result wasn't the kind of drama he wanted. As a final
humiliation, he tripped and fell flat on his ass as he was storming out.
Several other coworkers, who had followed him down the hall, joined the
receptionist in holding their stomachs with laughter.

"Porno boy! Porno boy! Short-dicked faggot porno boy!"

The shouts faded as he got into his shitty old Nissan Versa and drove away,
but they didn't fade in his head. He sobbed and sobbed as he drove away from
that awful place as fast as he could.

* * *

Stephen pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop. He needed a place to
sit and think for a while. He had to get out of this permanent slump somehow.
Somehow, he had to gain the respect of society. And most importantly the
respect...and love...from pretty girls. He checked his homely face in the
mirror. He had managed to wipe away the tears, but his eyes were still red.

He went inside and immediately perked up when he saw an attractive,
raven-haired young woman behind the counter. A friendly smile and a few
friendly words from a pretty girl. That would be all he needed to brighten his
horrible day. He impatiently waited his turn while she laughed and joked with
each of the two men ahead of him. She seemed nice. That was a good sign,
right?

When he got to the counter, Stephen opened his mouth, but before any words
could come out, the woman took a quick look at him, quickly waved one of her
male coworkers over, and disappeared into the back. Stephen's heart sank, but
he tried to keep his chin up. Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe it was just time for
her break. And anyway, there would be other girls, right?

"Yo, dude. Are you going to order something or just stand there?"

The gruff voice of the man snapped Stephen back to the present. With a sigh,
he ordered a coffee and pastry and stepped away to wait.

But as soon as he walked away from the counter, the pretty woman came back
out, warmly greeting the next customer in line. Stephen felt rage flow through
him, then a deep sense of hopelessness. What was it about him? It was as if he
was missing something inside, as if he wasn't whole, and everyone, especially
every pretty girl, could tell.

It didn't get any better when he got his order and sat down. He chose a table
in an isolated corner, far away from anyone else, but just a few seconds
later, an attractive, photogenic couple, a tall, good-looking young man and a
thin, pretty young woman, sat at a table right next to his. They immediately
began whispering and giggling, frequently looking his way to make it clear
that they were laughing at him, and frequently kissing each other. He felt
like a total cuckold next to them.

He brooded as he ate his pastry and drank his coffee. What was he going to
tell his parents? They had already been furious with him for quitting his
first job, the one with the sporting goods company, the one where he had first
met hot bitchy Annabelle. Now that he had quit a second job, he didn't know
what he was going to tell them. They didn't understand. THEY had never been
bullied! THEY had never been sexual failures! His father was a tall,
good-looking, successful European man, and his mother was an attractive Asian
woman who was petite but athletic. But it seemed that the only thing he had
inherited from them was his mother's height. His mind drifted away into long
internal ramblings of self-pity.

He suddenly perked up when he saw the pretty female employee visiting the
tables, asking the customers if everything was okay. Her nametag read "Jill."
Maybe he could get redemption. Maybe she had just needed to get something
quickly from the back earlier. Maybe it hadn't been him after all. "Come on,
Jill," he whispered to himself.

Jill stopped at the table next to his, smiling at the nerdy-looking young man
who was sitting there with his laptop, asking him if he needed anything.
"Okay. She's not a snob. If she can be nice to nerd boy, she can be nice to
me." Stephen took a deep breath as she approached him.

But instead, Jill gave Stephen a cold stare and said, "You've been sitting
there with those crumbs and that empty coffee for an hour. If you're not going
to buy anything else, take a hike."

He felt all the blood rush away from his face. WHAT?! What had he done to
deserve THIS?! Something snapped within him. He leaped up, grabbed the nerdy
guy's laptop, and smashed it on the ground.

"Hey! What the fuck, asshole?" The guy jumped up. Stephen was mad enough to
want to take a swing at him. This man wasn't any bigger than him. Stephen made
a fist. He could...

Suddenly, there was a horrible, searing pain in his groin. Stephen crumpled to
the ground, clutching his brutalized family jewels. He looked up and saw Jill
standing over him. She had kicked him in the crotch. He tried to get up, but
she smashed her knee into his face, releasing a spray of blood and knocking
him down again. "Stay down, you piece of shit, or I swear I'll fucking
curb-stomp you."

Jill turned to the nerdy guy. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was just my computer."

"Do you want me to call the cops?"

Stephen froze in horror, as he suddenly realized what he had done and what he
had gotten himself into. If life was this bad outside, life in jail would be
beyond a nightmare. He was the epitome of the weak male who would be utterly
brutalized and sodomized by the tougher inmates.

"I don't really like all that hassle and paperwork. I just want this jerk to
pay for a new computer." Stephen sighed with relief. He would have paid
anything to stay out of jail.

"If that's what you want." Jill roughly yanked Stephen to his feet and glared
at him. "You fucking asshole. I don't know why you went off on this man for no
reason at all, but you're not going to get away with it. You're going to
apologize to him, and then you're going to pay..."

"A thousand bucks should cover it."

"But I don't have..."

Jill backhanded Stephen across the face, the ring she was wearing leaving a
painful welt on his cheek. "I'll personally escort you to the bank so you can
withdraw what you owe this young man. If you know what's good for you, you
won't cause any more trouble." Even though Jill was only about 5'4" and 115
pounds, smaller than him, Stephen knew he had to obey her. He reddened in
shame. This petite girl had utterly defeated him and forced him to be her
obedient little bitch.

Stephen suddenly heard applause from all around. Looking up, he saw with
horror that all the other customers and employees were standing and watching
the whole scene, and most of them were filming with their phones. He knew that
within minutes he would be the star of many YouTube videos with titles like
"Asshole Gets Karmic Justice."

Jill handed the nerdy guy a piece of paper. "Here's my number. I get off work
at five." The applause reached a crescendo as Stephen stood there, completely
humiliated and feeling like a total cuckold, even more than he had with the
hot couple next to him. She grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully. "Let's
go, douchebag."

* * *

Stephen brooded as he drove the shitty old Versa away from the coffee shop.
With the loss of his income, plus the thousand dollars he had been forced to
pay, he would have to beg his parents for money to make next month's rent.

But that wasn't his worst problem, he thought. The public humiliation by girls
was getting worse and worse everywhere he went, as if some malevolent deity
was punishing him. Before he went home, he HAD to get one positive experience
with a hot chick under his belt. He just had to! Other guys could go to their
wives or girlfriends for comfort. Even single guys could go to their female
friends. But Stephen had not only never had sex and never had a girlfriend, he
had never even had a female friend. Every part of his life, from middle school
to high school to college to the office, he had watched every other guy get
some kind of friendliness from his female classmates or coworkers, but none of
it ever came his way. He just wanted to be in the bottom 20 percent of guys,
even the bottom 10 percent, instead of the absolute bottom of the totem pole
he was at now.

He wanted to punch the next guy who used the term "friendzone." Guys like that
were such ungrateful jerks! They didn't know how lucky they had it! Deep down,
he knew what a loser he was for being so desperate to want merely a female
friend, but he was unable to admit it.

Suddenly, he saw something and slammed on the brakes. Knockers! The restaurant
chain where beer, wings, and other deep-fried foods were served by sexy
waitresses in skimpy outfits! Of course! Here was his chance. He pulled into
the parking lot. It was time to go big or go home.

He opened the door and walked in. A big-titted, muscular blonde was at the
hostess stand. He gave her his best smile (which looked incredibly gay and
creepy, one of the many reasons why he was a total failure with women), and
waited for her to smile back. But instead, she glared at him icily, then
pointed to the exit and said, "Leave. Now."

Stephen felt his blood run cold. Not AGAIN! How! Why?! He said the last word
out loud.

The hot blonde simply pointed to the sign that read, "We reserve the right to
refuse service to anyone."

Feeling the tears well up in his eyes again, he turned to go. Suddenly, the
blonde said, "Hold on. Wait a minute."

He turned back around, hope springing up within him. The muscular girl's
pretty face suddenly broke into a smirk. "I thought I recognized you! You're
Stephen, that creepy-ass loser who was in all those submissive cuck sex
videos, AND got beaten up and humiliated just today by a girl for smashing
some guy's computer! Hey, everybody, come quick! It's that two-time loser I
was telling you about earlier! Man, watching YouTube and PornTube during slow
times at work really pays off!"

Customers and waitresses alike rushed towards him, phones in hand, wanting to
get a glimpse and their own videos of the famous loser. Bursting into tears,
Stephen ran out of the restaurant and drove away as fast as he could.

* * *

Stephen sat on his bed in his tiny, shitty studio apartment. Even though he
hated it, it was the best place he could be right now. It was the closest
thing to a haven of peace from all the humiliation of the world outside.

He began brooding again, then stopped himself. Enough of that. He had to do
something to make himself feel better. And if he couldn't grab happiness from
girls, he would just have to grab his own happiness. He went over to his
computer and sat down, preparing to find some sexy videos to jack off to.

Unlike normal guys, who jacked off to porn or bikini pictures, or got actual
sex from women, Stephen choked his chicken exclusively to his various
fetishes. He liked girls with muscular forearms (because his own were so thin
and scrawny, and he got off schmoe-style on that), and had a large collection
of female forearm pictures. He liked girls who could do back handsprings (of
course he couldn't do them), and had many videos of those saved on his
computer. He liked girls who could throw far (since he was so weak that even
the least athletic girls could out-throw him, and he got off schmoe-style on
that) and loved watching college softball games. And he liked girls who could
shoot guns (since he was so terrible at that, and he got off sch...you know
the drill).

He remembered how Annabelle and the other female models had humiliated him at
the shooting competition at the sporting goods company. Well, this was his
revenge, he thought. Jacking off to those kinds of women. They could tease and
mock him, but they couldn't stop him from turning them into sex objects in his
mind. Yes. He was in the mood for some girls with guns videos tonight. He had
many of them saved, but he wanted something new. He went to the YouTube home
page, preparing to type in the search bar.

Suddenly, he noticed something under the "New Viral Videos" category. "Asshole
Gets Karmic Justice!" It was him at the coffee shop that day! He saw with
horror that it had already gotten over 600,000 views. A wave of shame and
anger washed over him and he felt his prick deflate.

"NO," he growled out loud. He was going to spank his monkey one way or
another. Closing the video window, he yanked off his clothes and lay down on
his back on the bed. He would jerk it to his memories of hot chicks who had
dominated him. He started with Jill. He remembered waiting at the bank with
her, how despite his humiliation he was turned on by her strength, her control
over him, the sweet, feminine scent of her perfume. Soon his cock had reached
its maximum length of three inches. "Fuck yeah, Jill. That's it. Dominate me.
Control me. I like being your little faggot bitch."

He moved on to May, the muscular Middle Eastern girl who had taunted him at
the mall, as he continued to wank. Her forearms were big and muscular, and he
loved the way she had been wearing those shiny silver bracelets on her thick
wrists to draw attention to them. "Fuck yeah, May. Your wrists, your forearms,
so big and sexy...Show them off. See how small and girly mine are compared to
yours. Oh yeahhhh, that's sooooo hott." Then Cassie, the slim blonde who had
lured him into the lion's den with a brilliant trap. "Oh, Cassie, such a hot
blonde, such a smart blonde, outsmarted me, hooked me right in. And that back
handspring you did, so sexy, ooh baby. You really showed what a faggy bitch I
am."

And finally, Annabelle. "Ooh, Annabelle, you have it all. Those amazing
football throws you made at the sporting goods competition. Your back
handsprings, so athletic and talented. You really showed everyone what a wimp
I am compared to you. Oh yeah, baby. Your shooting skills. So capable and
confident. Girls with guns are sooooo hott. And of course your muscular
forearms with their dark brown Filipina tan. Ooooh, I love how they're so much
bigger than mine. Ooooh, I wish they were jerking me off right now.
Aaaaaahhhh, can't hold it back any longer...gonna cum...gonna blow!" With
that, Stephen shot off a massive load of cum, launching it with enough force
to hit the ceiling. It bounced off and landed back down right on his face.

He felt his heart rate slowly return to normal. The cum on his face reminded
him of the facial Annabelle had given him, but it didn't matter this time. He
was alone. He could just wipe it off, then decide what to do next.

Suddenly, he froze as he heard something. It sounded like laughter, laughter
that someone was desperately trying to hold in. Female laughter. He looked
over at his computer, wondering if he had left a video playing. But the screen
was blank.

The giggles came again. They seemed to be coming from under the bed! It
couldn't be! It had to just be his imagination! His heart pounding, he slowly
leaned over to look under the bed, hoping not to see what he thought he was
going to see.

Sure enough, none other than Annabelle was hiding under the bed! She quickly
slid out and stood up, roaring with laughter, not having to hold it in
anymore.

More snickers came from the closet. The door swung open and there stood Cassie
with a video camera in her hand! At the same time, additional giggles came
from the kitchen and two figures, sexy muscular May and a tall, muscular man,
rose up from where they had been hiding behind the counter.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" screamed Stephen. He pinched himself, hoping he had fallen
asleep on the bed and that this was just a nightmare, but he felt the pinch.

"Oh. My. God," said Annabelle.

"Holy shit. Where do we even begin?" asked Cassie. She waved her video camera.
"By the way, I got all of it. I sure showed you what a faggy bitch you are,
didn't I?"

"The ending. It doesn't get any better than that. The cum landing right on his
face. Giving himself an own goal facial." May was literally holding her sides.

"How...Why..." Stephen moaned.

"Oh, Cassie picked the lock and we snuck in here and hid," said Annabelle. "We
thought you might do something humiliating that we could get on video. And
boy, did you ever deliver. Holy shit, that was too perfect. I couldn't have
scripted it better if I tried!" Stephen began to cry.

"Aww, is the poor widdle baby sad about being outsmarted and owned?" May
taunted him. "What a pathetic wimpy loser. You actually thought you could
flirt with me? I need a real man, not a fag like you." She kissed the tall man
next to her. "This is my boyfriend, Spike. He knows how to satisfy a woman and
be a strong male partner to a strong female."

Stephen, still sitting on the bed, looked up in jealousy at the four people
who had invaded his apartment. They were all athletic, good-looking,
successful, and popular - everything he was not. Cassie, at 5'6" and 120
pounds, was the smallest of the four, but still an inch taller than him. With
her shoulder-length blonde hair and green dress that matched her green eyes,
she looked very feminine, yet still strong, as evidenced by her slim but toned
arms that the sleeveless dress showed off.

Annabelle, at 5'8" and 128 pounds, had a model's build and a dark brown tan
from her half-Filipina heritage. She wore a black miniskirt, knee-high black
leather boots, and a white blouse. The sleeves were rolled up to display her
surprisingly big and muscular brown forearms, and she wore her trademark
studded black leather bracelets on each muscular wrist. Black leather gloves
completed her outfit.

May was a curvaceous and muscular girl at 5'6" and 143 pounds. Her D-cup
breasts contrasted with Annabelle and Cassie's B-cups, although all of their
tits were firm and perky. She wore low-cut white pants, a brown leather belt,
and a black top with three-quarter length sleeves. Her prominently displayed
forearms were even bigger than Annabelle's, and she wore a thick, shiny silver
bracelet on her right wrist and a man's watch on her left. From her Middle
Eastern background, she had a tan as dark as Annabelle's.

Finally, there was Spike. Stephen had been bullied by guys like him all his
life. He knew his type. Spike was the successful pick-up artist, the type who
could score easily with girls because of his looks, size, and natural alpha
personality. The type Stephen hated with all his heart. At 6'2" and 210
pounds, Spike was a cold, menacing presence. He and May were a poster couple
that could have appeared in any fitness or outdoor-themed magazine - he as the
heavily muscled super-alpha male, she as the strong female who could also
convey traditional femininity next to her larger male companion. Although he
was Caucasian, he was dark enough that he didn't look too pale next to May.

"Find something you like, faggot?" Spike sneered. "I don't know what would
make me want to fuck you up more, staring at my woman or staring at me." He
made a fist. Stephen cowered in fear.

May kissed him again. "That's my man. That's what a REAL man should be able to
do. Prove his evolutionary worth by making other males look inferior."
Stephen, who had felt like a cuckold all his life, never felt like more of a
cuck than he did at that moment.

Cassie had walked over to Stephen's computer like she owned the place and
hooked her video camera up to it. "I'm uploading the video of cocksucking
douchebag wanking off to his faggy fantasies and especially his hilarious own
goal facial to our regular list of porn sites. Too bad YouTube doesn't allow
porn, but we'll still get hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions, of views
from the porn sites. You're going to be an even bigger star, STEPHANIE."
Stephen could only whimper.

Annabelle did a roundoff followed by a back tuck to land on the bed. She
grabbed Stephen, bitch-slapped him across the face, and shoved him, still
naked, across the room. May caught him, grabbing his arm and twisting it. "May
has a gift for you," said Annabelle.

The Middle Eastern beauty reached into a bag and pulled out a little black
dress. "This is a size 4. It should fit you perfectly. Put it on, faggot."

Stephen began to beg and plead. "Please...no...enough..."

May drove her knee hard into his stomach, causing him to double over in agony.
"If you don't start acting like the obedient little bitch you were meant to be
right now, I'll turn you over to my boyfriend."

That got Stephen going. He took the dress, then tried to wipe the cum off his
face with his other hand.

"No," snapped Annabelle. "You'll keep that cum on your face. If that face
becomes clean I'll kick you in the groin with my steel-toed boots until your
testicles become ovaries. Now put the fucking dress on." She glared at him,
then went over to Cassie at the computer. May joined them, all three girls
giggling as the video was uploaded.

"Dude, listen," Spike whispered as Stephen began putting the dress on. "If you
want respect from women, you need to start acting like a man. Be tough. Don't
listen to them. Stand up for yourself. Take that stupid dress off and put on
your pants. Go after Annabelle, she's the ringleader. Fight back and they'll
stop picking on you."

Stephen threw the dress on the floor and nodded. It made sense. Women hated it
when men showed weakness. But if he showed that he had the courage to stand up
to them, they would respect him. He stalked over to the bed and put on his
underwear and pants.

Annabelle turned around. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, bitch?" She
stood up and performed a front tuck somersault right to him, showing off her
intimidating tumbling skills, glaring down at him, muscular arms crossed in
front of her.

He glared back at her. "I'm standing up to you! You're not going to push me
around anymo..."

The Filipina beauty gave him a hard shove, pushing him back onto the bed. He
got up and charged her, but she simply pushed him away once again. After
Stephen repeated the process several times, each with the same result of being
shoved back onto the bed, she finally punched him in the face, opening a
painful and bloody cut on his cheek from the rough leather of her glove. He
crumpled to the floor.

Then came the laughter. It came from all four of them, including Spike, who
was snickering loudest of all! "You stupid little faggot," he taunted the
smaller man. "You just fell for that hook, line, and sinker!"

"I'm not going to let you push me around anymore! I'm a big boy! I'm potty
trained!" May mocked Stephen in a falsetto voice. In addition to his other
feminine traits, Stephen had an unusually high-pitched voice. When he answered
the phone, people often called him 'ma'am.' It was yet another thing he hated
about himself and his life.

"Did you get all that, Cass?" asked Annabelle.

"Sure did, Ana." Stephen whirled and saw with a new wave of horror that once
again Cassie had the video camera pointed at him. "Got it right from the
beginning," the blonde giggled. She turned to upload this one to the computer
as well.

Stephen felt the tears flow again. "Quit crying, wanker," snapped Annabelle.
"We don't want anything to wash off that cum. Now take your pants off and put
on that dress. You're not man enough to be allowed to wear pants."

Stephen removed his pants and put the dress on. To his shame, it fit
perfectly. And to his even greater shame, he found himself liking the feeling!
He hung his head, wishing it would all be over.

"Now, we're going to have a Girliness Pageant," announced Annabelle. "We're
going to see who's the girliest one in this room. Contestants, line up,
please." She, May, and Cassie all lined up next to Stephen. Spike picked up
the video camera.

"Welcome to the first annual Girliness Pageant!" announced Spike into the
camera. "Let's meet the contestants. We have four lovely ladies here." He
turned the camera around, showing the contestants. "In the black top, May. In
the white blouse, Annabelle. In the green dress, Cassandra. And in the black
dress, Stephanie. The object is to be the girliest contestant, with a very
special prize for our winner."

Stephen was trembling. What did they have planned? He wanted to get away. But
he couldn't. He couldn't go out in this dress and with cum on his face.
Anyway, he knew he could never have the physical or mental skills to escape
these four alphas. He remembered how he had tried to run away from Annabelle
and Cassie the last time they had invaded his apartment, and Annabelle had
caught him simply by doing back handsprings, being able to backflip faster
than he could run. So he went along with it, submissively, like the little
bitch he was.

"Let's get right to our first event," continued Spike. "Wrist size. The winner
will be the one with the smallest and girliest wrist." He took out a tape
measure from the bag. "Annabelle, step forward, please."

Annabelle, trying to hide her giggles, held out her muscular forearm. "6.8
inches. Nice." Stephen got a hard-on at hearing that. It was impressively big
for a woman of her slender build, but she still looked perfectly feminine.

"May, you're next." May's thick wrist showed a measurement of 7.3 inches.
Stephen's cock got even harder. May's build was perfect for developing huge
wrists.

"Now you, Stephanie." Stephen, red with shame, held out his thin, girly arm.
"Only 6.2 inches! You're in the lead, Stephanie! Cassie, it's all up to you."

Stephen hoped that the slender blonde would have a smaller wrist than him,
anything to slightly reduce his humiliation. But Spike announced, "Cassie
measures in at 6.5 inches. One point for Stephanie!"

"Next event is gymnastics. The best tumblers are male, and adult women who can
do backflips are very rare. Therefore, lack of tumbling skill equates to
girliness. Cassie, lead us off."

Cassandra performed a tumbling pass of a roundoff, back handspring, split-leg
layout. May did a front tuck, roundoff, two back handsprings, and finished
with a back tuck. Annabelle did a standing tumbling pass, starting with two
back handsprings, two whip backs, two more back handsprings, and finishing
with a full twisting layout. "Now you, Stephanie," Spike ordered.

Stephen didn't know what he was going to do. He had no gymnastics skills at
all. In desperation, he tried to do a cartwheel, but slipped and landed flat
on his ass. "Well, looks like that's a second point for Stephanie!"

"Third event. Throwing skill. We'll see who does or doesn't throw like a girl.
Unfortunately, our arena is too small to measure throwing for distance, so
we'll have to test accuracy instead." Spike reached into the bag and took out
a set of darts and a board. He set the board up on the far wall, then walked
back over to the contestants. "May, get us started."

May tossed her dart with good strength and accuracy, landing it half an inch
from the center of the bullseye. Cassie equaled her score. Annabelle bested
both of them, nailing her dart just a quarter inch from the center.

Then it was Stephen's turn. He was having flashbacks to the contest at the
sporting goods company, where he had been humiliated by his girly throwing.
This was no different, as his throw was so weak that his dart didn't even make
it to the board.

"Well! It seems like our girly Stephanie found a way to get distance involved
in this contest after all!" Spike smirked. "Three points for Stephanie. Now,
for our last event. This one is worth three points, so any one of the others
can still tie it. Who has the girliest facial decoration?"

Stephen froze. He shook with shame and humiliation as Spike gave close-ups to
the three girls. "Hmm. Nothing but ordinary makeup here. Now for Stephanie.
Hello, what's this? Looks like cum, and lots of it! Well, there's nothing
girlier than a good old facial! Stephanie, congratulations! You win!"

"Time for your prize, bitch," said Spike. His voice had changed from that of
an announcer to a cold, cruel, sadistic one, and he had turned the video
camera off. "Since you're such a good, girly cumslut, it's time for you to get
what you deserve." He unzipped his pants.

"NOOOOOOO!" screamed Stephen. "I won't!"

Annabelle suddenly whipped out a gun from underneath her miniskirt. "This is a
Glock .40 caliber," she said icily. "I bought it on the street with cash. By
the way, I was able to go into a dangerous neighborhood to buy it and come out
unharmed because I'm as tough as a man even though I'm a girl, while you would
have been grabbed and buttraped before you took three steps in that
neighborhood because you're such a wimp. This gun is unregistered and
untraceable. Now you have a choice. You can either choke down his load, or you
can choke down mine." She aimed the gun at his face, looking every bit the
domme bitch and sexy female firearms expert she was.

Stephen was quivering. He wanted to make the defiant decision. But he was a
coward. He didn't have the courage to die. So he nodded miserably.

"What was that?" asked Cassie. "What did you choose? Say it."

"The...the cock," moaned Stephen, crying again.

"Say it louder," May smirked. "Say it again. Add some details. Make it
convincing. Otherwise, Annabelle might think you want her load instead."

"I want to suck the big cock!" cried Stephen. "I want to show the world what a
submissive little faggot bitch I am! My name is Stephanie, and I'm a proud
cumslut!"

"Holy shit," said Annabelle as she put her gun back underneath her skirt. "I
would have been satisfied with about one-tenth of that. Damn, he must be some
sort of natural born catcher. The wimpiest, sluttiest little bitch of all
time."

"I'm going to enjoy this," said Spike. He advanced on Stephen.

* * *

No, I won't write the details of THAT scene. I don't want to write it, and you
don't want to read it.

* * *

Stephen lay on the floor, naked and crying. Cum was on his face, in his
hair...everywhere.

The others were busy in an orgy. Spike had May up against a wall and was
fucking her brains out with his massive nine-inch cock, being one of the few
men in the world strong enough physically and mentally to have that kind of
male-dominant sex with a woman as strong as May. Annabelle and Cassie were
69ing each other, each girl furiously licking away at the other's cunt, both
experienced ladies knowing exactly what another woman wanted. After each
orgasm, they switched partners until each of the four had been with each of
the others.

"Damn," said Cassie when they were finally finished. "It's so cool that we're
all bisexual."

"Including Stephanie over there, apparently," smirked Spike.

"What are we going to do with him now?" asked May.

Stephen just moaned. The only positive thing he could think of was that
nothing could be worse than what they had done to him already.

Annabelle stood up. "Oh, I think our little girl has had enough for one day.
How about we just leave her alone?"

Stephen was sure she was taunting him, ready to unleash some new horror. But
the others joined in with a chorus of, "Sure. Sounds fine to me. Let's go."

Then they all got up, gathered the things they had brought, and simply left.

Stephen sat up, puzzled. Then he ran to the door, locked it, and barricaded it
with as much furniture as he could. He waited on the bed, trembling and naked.
That was their level of dominance over him. They were gone, and they were
still controlling his actions. In fact, he still hadn't wiped off the cum! He
quickly cleaned it off as he realized, then turned back to the door.

But nothing happened.

He thought about calling the police. But what would he say? What had happened
to him was so crazy that no one would believe him. Anyway, even if they were
arrested, they would get out on bail sometime, and Annabelle and her gun would
be coming after him. No, he couldn't call the cops.

He lay on the bed for hours, naked, sobbing at the complete and utter
degradation he had gone through. He cried. Screamed. Begged for whatever deity
was up there to give him comfort. But no one answered.

He finally put on his clothes. He would have to move. A new city. A new life.
A fresh start. Then he could...

There was a sudden pounding on the door. He froze. They were back! Stephen
began quivering. What now? He thought about jumping out the window. Could he
make it? He couldn't go through being tormented by those four again. Not
again. Too much. Too much.

"Police!" came a male voice. "Open up!"

That didn't sound at all like Spike's. Cautiously, Stephen went to the door
and peered through the peephole. It was indeed the police, several officers.
Maybe a concerned neighbor had seen something and called them. He hadn't been
planning to go to the cops, but now that they were here...Maybe he could be
put in the Witness Protection Program or something. He quickly removed the
furniture and opened the door.

"Stephen?" said one of the policemen.

"Yes?"

"We have a warrant to search your place. Step against the wall, please. Place
your hands above your head."

"What? A warrant! But I didn't do anything! In fact, I'm the victim of..."

A female officer roughly shoved him against the wall. "He said against the
wall, douchebag. Now prepare to be searched."

As she patted him down, the other officers, half a dozen of them, poured into
his apartment and began methodically searching it. Stephen, still stunned,
tried to make sense of it all.

"He's clean," the policewoman reported.

"Not exactly," said another officer. "Found this hidden in a drawer. Fully
loaded." He carefully placed a gun into an evidence bag. "There's lots of
extra ammo, too. Over a hundred rounds."

Stephen stared in shock. That gun...that was the Glock that Annabelle had
threatened him with! She must have hidden it and the ammo in there while he
was being...A cold chill ran down his spine as he remembered her words.
"Bought with cash. Unregistered. Untraceable."

"Well, well, well," said the cop who had first spoken. "Looks like we got here
just in time to prevent another massacre."

"Massacre? What are you talking about..." Stephen stammered.

"Don't play dumb with us, punk," said the policewoman. "We were tipped off to
your online manifesto and traced it here." She pointed to his computer, where
another cop was clicking away.

"Yep," said the policeman at the computer. "Manifesto's saved on his computer
as well as posted online. Outlines his whole plan for going back to his job
that he quit and killing all the popular guys and the sexy girls who flirted
with them because of his rage at never getting any sexual attention. Then he
was going to kill as many good-looking people as he could before going out in
a blaze of glory. He even talks about buying that Glock on the street,
unregistered and untraceable."

"No...that's not..." Stephen realized with horror that one of the others, most
likely Cassie, the computer girl, had been busy too while he had been
distracted, uploading the obviously prewritten manifesto to his computer and
posting it online under his IP address.

"Not what?" asked the policewoman coldly. "Not part of your plan? Didn't think
you'd get busted?" She shook her head. "No wonder you couldn't get any. Girls
saw you for the psychopath you are. You're going to deserve everything bad
that's going to happen to you in prison when you drop the soap." She smirked.

"No...please...I'm innocent..." Stephen cried. The female cop shoved him back
against the wall.

"Same old shit. They all whine that they didn't do anything."

One of the policemen handcuffed him and began reading him his rights. "You
have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against
you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..." The words seemed
to fade away as Stephen began to cry.

As he was led downstairs to a waiting police car, he saw through his tears
that a large crowd had gathered. Suddenly, he recognized Annabelle standing
there! And Cassie, and May and Spike! And Jill from the coffee shop, and her
new nerd boyfriend! And the big-titted blonde from Knockers, and SEVERAL
people from the job he had ragequit! As if it was the finale of a cheesy
movie, they were all there to watch his final defeat! Annabelle blew him a
mocking kiss as he was placed in the back seat of the car.

The headlines were sensational. "ANOTHER UGLY LOSER-ASS VIRGIN PLANNED DEADLY
MASSACRE OF BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE. COPS TIPPED OFF BY ANONYMOUS HERO. MASS MURDER
PREVENTED JUST IN TIME. THIS ONE CAPTURED ALIVE, DIDN'T HAVE OPPORTUNITY TO
DIE ON HIS OWN TERMS. LET'S MAKE HIM SUFFER, BOYS AND GIRLS!"

* * *

SIX MONTHS LATER

Stephen trembled in fear as he was marched, handcuffed and shackled, off the
bus and into the yard of the maximum security prison. The other prisoners had
been eyeing him like a piece of meat, just waiting to be unshackled and
uncuffed so they could have their way with him. And the guards didn't look
like they would do anything to stop it.

He thought about the past six months. His parents had immediately disowned
him. He had to wear a bulletproof vest every time he went to court. His guards
read him the hate mail he received every day. Some of it was from the popular
people, muscular alpha males and pretty alpha females, but the most fanatical
hate mail came from the less popular ones, who were desperate to distance
themselves from him and show solidarity with the beautiful people.

His public defender told him to plead guilty to the 17 counts of attempted
murder he was facing to avoid a sentence of life without parole. He had done
so, but then discovered that with all the sentences added up, he wouldn't be
eligible for parole until he was 98 years old. The attorney - his own defense
attorney - had laughed in his face at the trick he had pulled, then coldly
informed him that he was less sickened by having to defend child molesters.

Stephen looked at the guards waiting inside as the heavy gate shut behind him
with a bang. Most of them were men, but there were a few women as well,
including a very pretty one who looked just like...

"ANNABELLE?!"

"That's right, Stephanie, it's me. Just in case your life is only 99% pure
hell in here, I'm here to make sure it's 100%." The darkly tanned beauty
smirked and twirled her baton, causing the muscles in her big brown forearms
to ripple. She whispered to him as she personally escorted him to his cell.

"You're my bitch. Forever."

THE END