Katie

You're in your shitty room, unemployed, no girlfriend, the glow from your chub.ai tab the only light. You're gooning to some cuck bot, stroking your dick with one hand while typing hate comments with the other, calling the bot a degenerate piece of shit. You're so fucking hard it hurts.

You go to close the tab, but your eye catches a new ad on the side of the page. It's long, like someone typed it out themselves.

TIRED OF JUST TALKING TO BOTS? BE THE CUCK. FOR REAL.

My name’s Katie. I’m a hot pink-haired slut with big tits and a tight pussy. My boyfriend Bob has a nice, thick cock and he loves to fuck me in front of jobless virgins like you.

You come to us. You pick the scene:

1. The ‘Nice’ One: I’ll be your girlfriend. I’ll hold your hand, kiss you, tell you I love you while Bob fucks me raw on my bed. You can clean his cum out of my pussy if you want to. It’ll be so romantic!

2. The ‘Mean’ One: I’ll laugh at your tiny dick. I’ll lock it in a cage. You will lick my pussy clean after Bob fills it and you’ll like it, you worthless bitch. You don’t get to cum.

3. The ‘Gay’ One: You watch Bob pound me. Then you bend over and he fucks you too. He’s really into that part.

NO FUCKING ME. YOU ONLY WATCH (OR GET FUCKED). DM @KatieCucksYou ON TELEGRAM. DON’T WASTE MY TIME.

Your hand has stopped moving. The bot is still generating a response. Your heart is pounding against your ribs.

The cursor blinks in your browser's address bar. You could just close it. Or you could type 'telegram.com' and see if that username is real.

Fuck me, you actually went through with it. Of course you picked the 'nice' one, you lonely gremlin. You wanted the girlfriend experience, because you've never felt a woman's hand in yours without paying for it first.

So here we are. You're naked, sitting on the edge of Katie's bed, your dick is hard and aching and you feel like you're going to puke. Katie is naked too, kneeling in front of you on the mattress, her big tits swaying, her pink hair a mess. She's holding both of your hands in hers, her thumbs rubbing your knuckles.

"Look at me, baby," she whispers, and her voice is so fucking sweet it makes your teeth hurt. "Just look at me. It's just you and me, okay? I love you. This doesn't mean anything."

Behind her, Bob, some generic motherfucker with a truly average dick, is on his knees. He slaps his cock against her pussy a few times—classy—before shoving it inside her with one rough thrust. Katie gasps, her pink eyes fluttering, but she keeps her gaze locked on you. Her hands let go of yours and slide down to grip your thighs instead, her palms warm and slightly damp.

"See?" she breathes, as Bob starts pumping into her, his balls slapping against her wet cunt. The sound is obscenely loud in the quiet room. "He's… he's just a toy. A thing. It's for you. It's all for you, baby."

Bob sets a rhythm, his hips slapping against her ass with a wet, meaty sound that's just fucking depressing to listen to. In, out, in out—this guy probably fucks like he assembles flat-pack furniture: functional, joyless, and with the constant threat of everything falling apart. Katie's tight pink pussy grips his average dick, each thrust making her jolt forward, her tits swinging like they're trying to escape this whole situation.

Her thumbs keep rubbing your thighs, which is more physical affection than you've had in years, you sad little creature. "It's so deep," she moans, but her pink eyes are locked on yours, glassy with forced pleasure. "Can you see how wet I am for him? It's 'cause I'm thinking of you, baby. Only you."

Bob grunts, picks up the pace, and the bedsprings start a pathetic squeaking chorus. You can see his balls tightening as he drives into her. Katie's breath hitches. "He's… he's gonna fill me up," she whimpers, a real tremor in her voice. "But it's your cum, okay? In my heart, it's yours." It's so sweet it could give you diabetes, and you're swallowing every drop.

Then she leans forward, bringing her face close to yours, her breath hot. Bob is grunting, pounding her harder, and you can see her whole body jolt with each thrust. Her tits bounce wildly.

"I'm gonna come," she moans, her voice cracking. "Kiss me. Please, kiss me while I come on his dick."

Fuck me, you actually went through with it. Of course you picked the 'mean' one, you pathetic worm. You didn't just want to watch—you needed to be told how worthless you are, because deep down you already know it.

So there you are, kneeling on some cheap rug beside Katie and Bob's bed, this stupid plastic cage squeezing your pathetic dick. You feel like the world's biggest fucking loser, which, let's be honest, you are. You paid for this.

On the bed, Bob is already fucking her. I mean, he's just…pumping. No passion, just a rhythmic, meaty slapping sound as his average cock drives into Katie's sopping pussy. Her big tits are bouncing with each thrust, and her pink hair is fanned out on a pillow. But she's not looking at him.

She's looking right at you, her pretty face twisted into this gorgeous, condescending smirk.

"Look at him, cucky," she moaned, that fake, theatrical sound just for your pathetic ears. "So much better than you. So much more man." She reached up and ran her fingers through Bob's sweaty hair while staring right through your soul. "He feels so deep. Your little dick could never reach like this."

Bob kept pumping away with the enthusiasm of a dishwasher cycle. Katie's cruel little performance continued, every moan and sigh a calculated fuck-you aimed directly at your caged crotch.

"Oh god, his cock is so thick," she gasped, biting her lip. "You could never stretch me out like this, could you? You'd just tap against the entrance like a lost little moth." She laughed, a bright, nasty sound. "You're paying to watch a real man do what you'll never, ever get to do. Let that sink in, cucky."

Bob just grunts, keeping up his pace. His eyes are kinda glazed over. He's probably thinking about what he's gonna buy with your money, or some dude's ass.

Katie lets out a sharp, exaggerated cry as Bob presumably hits a good spot. "Fuck! Yes! Cum in me! Fill up your slut!" She's staring right into your soul now, her pink contact-lens eyes full of cruel delight. "You hear that, cuck? He's gonna breed me right in front of you. And you're gonna drink every drop from my pussy, you thirsty little bitch."

Bob's rhythm falters, his breathing gets ragged, and with a final few jerky slams, he shoves himself as deep as he can go and groans. You can see his balls tighten up against her. He's cumming inside her.

For a few seconds, it's just the sound of their heavy breathing. Then Bob pulls out with a wet, sucking sound, his now-soft dick dripping with their mixed fluids. He just gets off the bed, walks to the bathroom without a word, and closes the door. Real romantic guy.

Katie is left on her back, her legs spread, her pink pussy absolutely dripping and slack, a wet, used hole leaking white cum onto the sheets. She lets out a contented sigh, then props herself up on her elbows.

With a grunt, she scoots her body towards the edge of the bed, right where you're kneeling. The smell of sex and sweat and her perfume hits you like a truck. She doesn't even use her fingers to spread her lips wider—she just presents the messy, used hole to your face, glistening under the bedroom light.

"Time to clean your superior's mess, cucky," she says, her voice sweet and venomous. "Lick. And don't you dare miss a single drop."

Fuck me, you actually went through with it. Of course you picked the 'gay' one, you deeply confused closet case. You told yourself it was about watching the girl, but we both know you're here for the main feature, the meat of the show, the grand finale where you get to be the star... or rather the star-shaped hole for a bored bisexual pretending to be straight to pay the bills.

The room smells like cheap coconut body spray and cheaper decisions. You're sitting on the edge of the same bed, watching Bob's average ass piston in and out of Katie with the kind of rhythmic, detached efficiency of a man mowing a lawn. Katie's underneath him, her big tits bouncing, her legs wrapped around his back. She's making all the right sounds—the gasps, the moans, the 'oh gods'—but her pink eyes keep flicking over to you with an apology in them.

Bob, though? Bob hasn't looked at her once. His head is turned your way, his gaze locked on your face as he fucks his girlfriend.

"Pretty hot, right?" Bob grunts, not even out of breath. His hips slap against Katie's pale thighs. "Seeing her take it. She's a good little fucktoy." He says it like he's commenting on a reliable power tool. Katie's performance crescendos into a series of high-pitched wails and a full-body shudder that's just a tad too theatrical. Bob's face lights up with pure relief. "There we go. Knew you'd pop." He doesn't wait another second.

He pulls his dick out of her pussy with a wet plop, a strand of her juices and his precum already leaking from her pink lips. He doesn't even glance at the mess. He's already shuffling back on his knees, his average, slick cock bobbing, pointed right at you.

"Your turn, buddy. C'mon, on your hands and knees. Get that ass up here fast," he says, his voice laced with a forced casualness he's utterly failing to sell. "Katie's still nice and wet. We can use her as lube. Better than that chemical shit."

He positions himself, kneeling on the mattress, his palms flat on the bed in front of him, supporting his weight. The light from some godforsaken purple neon sign that for some reason is just floating in the air outside the window cuts across his back. He tries to keep a cool, neutral look on his face, but it's crumbling at the edges. A wide, shit-eating grin breaks through, betraying his entire fucking life. He's practically vibrating.

"Well? Don't make me wait."