Camp Half Slut Novels & Stories

“Don’t worry. We’ll work on that.” How do they do that? It’s like they’ve got a psychic hotline into my soul. When this family one day peels off their skin to reveal capes and latex suits, I will not be shocked. “I’ve known these guys for years,” Haley continues. “Sure, they’re apes and horny hounds, but they’re not into strip shows or prostitutes.” “Thanks, Mom,” Damion chuckles. “For making us sound so feral.” “You are feral,” she snaps, then continues. “An occasional bunny here, a groupie there, maybe a fan or two in a hot tub … but never hoes.”

Cumslut. That’s who I am. I’ve been called plenty of things: slut, whore, fucktoy, pornstar, cocksucker, and gangbang queen. But cumslut sticks to me like sweat after a hard fuck. It isn’t an insult. It’s a crown. You don’t get it by accident. You have to earn it, and I’ve mastered every skill it takes to be a true slut. At twenty-five, I know exactly what it means. I’m the woman men ache for when their wives fall asleep. I’m the body they crave when restraint shatters.

But she already faded and fell asleep. "Subsititute husband?!" Henry chuckled as Nathan ended the story telling. "Stop it... she already laugh at me!" he frowns. "Oh well... so I guess you're both semi now... a semi-subsititute husband and a semi-prostitute girlfriend___" "No she's not a prostitute... how many times will I have to say that!" Nathan cut him quick and shift that she wakes. "Henry?"

We glanced at each other but I gestured with my head for him to go on and he did. “Hi! I’m Kyle Miller from HB group,” he waved and I could already see the girls drooling over him from my side. Oh, and HB as in ‘Half-Bloods’, the school’s divided into different supernatural groups for convenience. “I hope to make great friends here. Can’t wait to know all of your names!” Those claps afterward were more than enough for me to know that they liked him. I sighed when the class went silent again knowing that it’s my turn next.

"Whore belongs to one of the most exclusive country clubs in Fresno. It's so hoity-toity, it's disgusting. Master is going to make her play golf on her own golf course mostly bare assed in the tarty skirt, and eat dinner after in that other slutty dress, essentially outing Whore as a slut slave to most of her friends and acquaintances." "Isn't that a little extreme," Shasta said. "I don't mind treating her like shit around all of us, but ruining her entire life in Fresno? I was only joking around to get her goat, but the only people I'd wish that on were the bastards that raped me. Granted, she hasn't been the most pleasant person to be around, but I wouldn't wish this on her."

He then began rocking his hips, face-fucking the pretty self-confessed slut on her knees in front of him. Outside, when Sherri heard the young girl call herself a nasty little slut, it pushed another of her hot-buttons. She found it a outlandishly arousing when her husband would sometimes call her filthy, degrading names while in the throes of wild sex, and she never felt more slut-like than right now, with her ass and tits exposed and her hand rubbing her drenched pussy while she "secretly" watched her own husband face-fuck another slut.

like orgies, or so was insinuated. Camp? Well, one out of three ain't bad. Camp made sense which was an oddity in, and of, itself. What was Camp Sahka Torchlight? It was a scholarship camp for young ladies in the Lower-48 States Foster Care System. Okay...I couldn't find fault with that idea. Considering the chaotic jumble of neglected promises that is our childcare safety net, it was rather clever.

I collapse on the ottoman, shaking, covered in sweat, spit, and cum, completely destroyed and more satisfied than I’ve ever been. The livestream is still rolling. Someone whispers in my ear: “Welcome to college, slut. This is just the beginning of your new life as the frat’s favorite fucktoy.” The End.

“Why are you lying? That’s not how it happened at all… You said I was the best… You said my pussy felt incredible…” He shrugged carelessly, still grinning that cruel, cocky smile, the cheerleader on his lap laughing hysterically along with everyone else. “Come on, Harper. Don’t be so fucking dramatic. We both know the truth. You were a terrible, boring lay. Dry, loose, smelly, and pathetic. I only fucked you because you begged so pathetically on your knees like a desperate little virgin slut. Consider it charity.” The laughter swelled to deafening levels. More objects were thrown—crumpled notes, an empty soda can that clattered near my feet. The chants grew louder and more vicious: “Fish Mar

she continued, talking in a seemingly professional manner while showcasing these obscene images. "I am a slut! A huge slut! The sluttiest of the sluts. The skankiest of the skanks. The trashiest of the trashy. The whoriest of the whores. Ever since I grew tits, I have been letting guys, and the occasional girl, play with them. I have been told I should be ashamed of myself, that no one likes a slut, but I do not care. I love it! I love being a slut! It is my best my quality. Callum, I am really, REALLY, good at sex, like, amazing at it. You do your work as the best boyfriend ever in public and I work in the bedroom."