Sucking in sleep

Babe woke up with a funny feeling in her stomach area. Usually, she woke up feeling hungry and immediately rushed to cook something, but today she felt somehow... full. She got out of bed, stretched her gorgeous, flexible body, and began to recall the events of the previous night.

Yesterday was her day off, and she had partied hard, as she had planned to do all week. She distinctly remembered going somewhere with her friend Alicia. They had tried very hard and dressed as provocatively as possible—definitely to attract male attention. The girls enjoyed it. And in that, they were true

masters. She knew that with her pink lipstick, purple eyeshadow, and long blonde hair, she would drive any male crazy. Alicia was a brunette, so she emphasized her darkness with equally dark lipstick and a dress. They loved reminiscing about their adventures and laughing together at the guys they had wrapped around their fingers, who could only go home and jerk off to the image of the two beauties.

Babe noticed a strange taste in her mouth. Usually, after various cocktails, she would have a sort of cottonmouth in the morning, but the sensation now was different. A somewhat salty aftertaste and something viscous in her mouth and further down, in her esophagus. Her throat was scratchy. What had happened yesterday?

They had gone to a party at Jean Paul's, it seemed. He was a guy from France they had met about a month ago. He turned out to be nice, and among his acquaintances were plenty of rich kids, whom these little devils loved to hunt.

The girl got dressed and called Alicia—she said she had roughly the same strange sensations, plus a splitting headache. They decided to meet at a café called "The Backwoods," which was nearby.

On the street, one of Jean Paul's friends, Bill, spotted them and snorted with laughter as he passed by. Babe felt awkward when that asshole started laughing in their faces like that. Who gave him the right?! But her contemptuous look had no effect on him whatsoever.

"What are you laughing at, you freak?" she tried to ask as coolly as possible, but it came out with a hint of fear or anxiety.

"Oh, come on, I'm just glad there are girls who can throw such a party. Like yesterday! Everyone left satisfied and happy!" he burst out laughing and started to look like some idiotic clown. The girls exchanged glances with unconcealed disgust, but at the same time, the same question was in their eyes.

Finally, Alicia shrugged.

"He's lost his mind..."

Babe agreed with her.

"See ya, wanker!" she waved her hand at him, and they walked on. Bill continued to roar with laughter, watching their backs.

At the café, they were seen by another of Jean Paul's friends, Simon. He was just stirring honey into his coffee, but upon seeing them, he immediately remembered something much sweeter. Something that had happened last night.

"Do you know your new nicknames?" he asked without even saying hello.

"What are you talking about, oh Great Simon Where Is Your Seed?!" Alicia quipped, and both girls burst out laughing. She was always quick with a sharp remark. However, Simon wasn't offended:

"I like the nickname about seed—it even sounds like an ad."

The girls continued to giggle quietly. But there was something in his behavior that made them feel uneasy. Usually, guys would get flustered and embarrassed when they found themselves in the company of such beauties. This morning, everything was going wrong.

And he immediately doubled over with laughter. The girls, meanwhile, stared at him fiercely and stupidly. For some reason, they didn't find it funny at all. Babe tried not to lose face:

"As you wish!" was all she could squeeze out. But her friend went further:

"Yeah, a bastard named Dickless can think whatever he wants!"

"And you," Simon continued, ignoring the insults, "you are now called Our Neighborhood Pussy." He started laughing at his own joke again. "You know, like a cat that walks around the yard waiting for her tomcat. Only you also like to get on your knees and take it in your mouth."

He felt he needed to explain what was happening. These two pretty bitches seemed a bit dumb to him. He had lost all remaining respect for them, especially remembering how last night they both sucked him off and another 20 guys without a second thought. Oh, what a party that was! What whores they were!

And the girls truly didn't know that last night, Jean Paul had slipped them some drug with a specific effect. This substance had been developed by his uncle from France, who was working on this project for the government. In short, this nasty stuff wasn't available for sale—and no one would sell it openly anyway, because the substance had a powerful psychotropic effect.

Fifteen minutes after taking it, both girls felt incredibly tired. Bill, who was in on it, along with several other guys, suggested they go to the bedroom and rest. They silently obeyed—they had neither the strength nor the desire to resist; they could only blindly follow instructions. In the bedroom, they saw several more guys, completely unfamiliar to them. Jean Paul explained what they were to do.

"You will sleep all night. But not just sleep—you'll be in a state of 'sleepwalking.' Only you won't be walking; you'll be sucking our cocks."

A second later, both girls fell into the arms of Morpheus. They took pride in their sucking abilities; all insults seemed like compliments to them, and to all addresses like "whore," "slut," "cunt," "suck-slut," they responded with "thank you." The guys got down to business, mocking these dumb broads.

One of them, Vinny, grabbed Babe by the waist, pulled her close, and looked into her frightened but unresponsive eyes:

"Now you're going to kiss me," began this huge guy of Italian descent, "and kiss me as if you've been dreaming of this all these years. And then you'll beg me to put my cock in your mouth."

The blonde moaned and reached for Vinny's mouth. They merged in a long, passionate kiss, as if it was their one and only, most enduring love. Of course, he had no intention of being her only lover that night.

"Please, I beg you!" she pleaded, sometimes breaking away from his lips, "let me kiss you there."

"There? What are you talking about, sweetie? You need to say exactly what you mean!"

"Uh... I want to make you feel good!"

"And this already feels good. Here you are playing with my tongue, and I'm touching you," he began stroking her breasts, "I like this. Don't you?"

"Oh yes, me too... But! But I need more! I want..." she whispered. "I want to suck you off..."

Vinny definitely enjoyed tormenting his victim.

"You'll have to ask better! Like real whores do, you dumb bitch!"

And she began to beg. For about ten minutes, she knelt, pressing her face against his crotch, pleading with him to take out his cock and let her lick it, and then drink all the cum that would spurt out.

And that's what she did. This brain-dead whore did this twenty times throughout the night. First with Vinny, and then with every guy at the party who dared to go upstairs for a free blowjob. Many of them didn't really believe it when Jean Paul told them about his uncle Jacques' wonder drug. But here they were, and two stunning girls were sucking them off without any questions! And the proof was the streams of cum erupting into their mouths.

Naturally, the girls were also made to believe they would remember nothing. For the guys, this circumstance made that night even more fun.

* * *

"There's another party tonight!" Simon winked at them and disappeared behind the door. Something fluttered inside the girls, like a pair of beautiful butterflies. Both of them decided to go to tonight's orgy. For some unknown reason, they had to go. And this attraction was somehow unusual. They immediately discussed it.

"Oh my god, Ali, this is wonderful!" Babe shook her hands in the air.

"What will you wear?" Alicia took her friend's hand. "We simply have to look 100%!"

They didn't have much to worry about. They were already wanted to be fucked in those slutty outfits. Besides, not much clothing remained on them when they arrived at the party. Within ten minutes of arriving, all they had left were their high-heeled shoes: purple for Babe and silver for Alicia.

This evening was somewhat different. The fun wasn't at a house but in a nightclub, where special booths had been set up between the ladies' and men's restrooms. Holes about 12 centimeters in diameter had been made in the walls of these booths. Above hole No. 2 that night was an inscription drawn in pink lipstick: "Miss Deep Throat," and above No. 4—"Our Neighborhood Pussy" (in red lipstick).

After taking the drinks and receiving instructions from Jean Paul, Babe took her place in booth No. 2. She took off her outer clothing, pulled up her miniskirt, and got on her knees, of course. The first cock appeared in the hole. She began lovingly covering it with kisses. Her breasts and cheeks flushed; she was burning with passion.

The routine began. Lips, tongue. Lick, moan, suck, moan, swallow. Lick, moan, suck, moan, swallow. Lick, moan, suck, moan, swallow... And after each time, say "thank you" from the bottom of her heart.

Everyone lost count.

Sometimes, some guys couldn't take it, entered the booth, and fucked the girls, pressing them against the wall. The girls didn't object; on the contrary, they welcomed it. Jean Paul had instilled in them that they not only loved sucking strangers' cocks but also loved riding them.

"You will forget everything that happened to you today," Jean Paul told them when they became even more obedient. "Just like yesterday."

* * *

Babe woke up with a funny feeling in her stomach area. Usually, she woke up feeling hungry and immediately rushed to cook something, but today she felt somehow... full...