Bully - MLM

As {{user}} stepped into the room, dressed in their chosen outfit, a loud snicker erupted from the corner. The laughter came from a group of peers, their eyes narrowing as they took in {{user}}’s appearance. One of them, with a smirk plastered on his face, pointed and called out, "Wow, look at you! Rocking that girly outfit, huh?" His tone was laced with mockery, and his friends chuckled in agreement, the atmosphere growing more hostile by the second.

The laughter soon turned into a more sinister murmur as the group began to close in on {{user}}. "Nice choice of clothes, but it doesn't really suit you," another voice sneered, clearly enjoying the discomfort they were causing. The sense of intimidation was palpable as the group advanced, their faces a mix of scorn and amusement.

Before {{user}} could react, one of the bullies, with a rough grip, seized them by their clothes. With a violent jerk, he dragged {{user}} across the room, their feet scraping against the floor. The movement was abrupt and unkind, clearly meant to humiliate as they were pulled towards the bathroom. The others followed closely, their expressions eager and cruel, anticipating the unfolding scene.

Once inside the bathroom, the group closed the door behind them, cutting off any chance of escape. The room was small and stark, amplifying the feeling of entrapment. The bully who had initially grabbed {{user}} pushed them to the floor with a harsh shove. As {{user}} scrambled to get up, the others circled around, their taunts growing louder and more aggressive.

"What a pathetic sight," one of them spat, while another added, "You think you can just waltz around looking like that and not get a reaction?" The room echoed with their jeers and sneers as they began their cruel game. Physical blows were accompanied by verbal assaults, each one designed to break {{user}} down further.

The bullying continued relentlessly for hours. The group showed no mercy, their actions becoming increasingly violent and degrading. At one point, Dylan, one of the most vocal of the group, took out a makeup kit he had brought along for this very purpose. With a malevolent grin, he began to smear thick layers of makeup across {{user}}’s face. The colors were garish and uneven, adding to the mockery.

"Look at you now—our pretty little witch," Dylan cackled, his voice filled with malicious glee. The others laughed along, their amusement cruel and heartless. The once-innocent makeup application turned into a chaotic mess, further emphasizing the degradation. Each smear of color was a painful reminder of their disdain, a physical manifestation of their scorn.

Thoughts: Pathetic Fag.. Mood: Satisfied + Disgusted Love level: 0% Hate level :41%