The Night They Humiliated Adrián on the Way Home

Adrián was finishing his master’s degree in history and had spent the last couple of months chaining together late-night classes. He was twenty-eight, had a girlfriend waiting for him with dinner gone cold, and was in the habit of getting home when half the city was already asleep. The route from the university forced him to cross a neighborhood of narrow streets and blown-out streetlights, a shortcut that had become routine because, until that night, nothing had ever happened to him there.

But that night the air smelled different. A restlessness he couldn’t explain settled at the nape of his neck the moment he left the lit avenue behind. He walked faster than usual, alert to every doorway, convinced that someone was measuring his footsteps from behind.

It wasn’t paranoia. At the mouth of a dead-end alley, two silhouettes peeled out of the shadows and blocked his path.

—Hey, you —said the taller one, with a smile that had nothing friendly about it—. What’ve you got there?

Adrián didn’t think. He handed over his wallet, his phone, and his backpack with trembling hands.

—Take it all, please. I don’t want any trouble.

—Not so fast —replied the second one, pocketing the haul—. I think tonight we’re going to have a little fun with you.

What came next was a succession of humiliating orders that Adrián obeyed, paralyzed by fear. They made him strip right there, in the middle of the street, while the two of them laughed at his body, shrunken by the cold and shame. He covered himself as best he could, begging them to let him go.

—Look at the little gentleman —the tall one mocked—. Bad luck really went to town on you, huh, champ?

Beside a dumpster there was a pair of abandoned high heels. When the two robbers saw them, both of their faces lit up with an idea that turned Adrián’s stomach.

—Put them on —one ordered, tossing them at his feet—. Tonight you’re going to be our little doll.

—Please, no —Adrián begged, barely able to speak.

—Shut up and do as you’re told.

With no choice, he shoved his feet into those heels two sizes too small. They pinched so hard he could barely move his toes, and as soon as he tried to take a step, his knees buckled.

—They suit you beautifully, princess —the other one laughed.

Unaccustomed to heels, Adrián staggered and fell face-first into the filth of the alley. When he tried to get back up, his foot slipped on a fruit peel and he landed on his ass, hard, onto an abandoned liter bottle that stabbed into him from behind with a brutal jolt that stole his breath. The bottle’s neck, cold and thick, forced its way into his ass with a dry shove, and he felt the glass slide inside him until it hit something that made his vision go white.

—Ow! —was all he managed to say, bent over himself, his buttocks clenched by pure reflex around the icy glass.

The shock and the contraction left the bottle trapped there, wedged in badly, with poor Adrián’s ass locked tight in a fist that wouldn’t let it out. The two strangers, far from helping him, pulled out their phones and started taking pictures while laughter bounced off the walls of the alley.

—No, not the photos! —Adrián begged, covering his face with one arm.

But the flashes kept lighting up his misery again and again, until the neighborhood windows began to come on and the robbers, satisfied, disappeared the way they had come, taking all his belongings with them.

***

Alone, naked, and hurting, Adrián desperately looked for something to cover himself with. In the same dumpster he found a short, tight dress, in cheap, shiny fabric, that someone had thrown away. He didn’t have anything better, so he put it on while his body was still protesting from the bottle lodged in his ass, shifting with every breath and rubbing inside him places he had never wanted to know existed.

He tried to walk, but the tiny heels had jammed on his feet and he didn’t know how to move in them. After two more falls, he decided that crawling was the least disastrous option. At least that way he didn’t notice the weight of the glass impaling him so much with every movement, though each crawl shoved the bottle a little farther inside and tore from him a gasp he couldn’t tell was from pain or something worse.

What would Carla think if she saw me now? he wondered, and the mere idea of his girlfriend finding him dressed like that, crawling through a rundown alley with a bottle stuck in his ass, made him want the earth to swallow him whole.

That was when he heard sirens in the distance. They were coming closer, fast. Adrián understood at once that there was no possible explanation for his appearance: a half-naked man in heels and a stolen dress, crawling in the middle of the night. They would mistake him for anything but a victim.

Panic drove him to flee in the opposite direction from the noise. He ran as best he could, tripping with every stride, ducking down ever narrower and darker little streets, lungs burning and heart about to burst. He needed a hiding place, and he found one in a fire escape that led up to an open window.

He climbed awkwardly, slipped through the window into what seemed to be a dim bedroom, and, without thinking, slid under the bed. There, holding his breath, he waited for the world to quiet down.

The sirens receded until they disappeared completely. Adrián was starting to poke his head out when he heard the bedroom door open. He ducked back under instantly. It was the owners of the house: a couple.

—Did you hear that? They’re gone now —the man said—. It sounded like they were right outside.

—It gave me the creeps —she replied—. This neighborhood gets worse every day.

—As long as nobody gets inside here... —he muttered, setting his keys on the nightstand.

—And what if we unwind a little? —she purred, and Adrián heard a knowing little laugh—. I’m still shaken, Óscar. Fuck me so it goes away.

—Lucía... —the man protested, not very convincingly.

—Take it out already, I want it in my mouth.

The mattress creaked above Adrián’s head. From his hiding place he watched the couple’s clothes fall to the floor, one by one: a pair of jeans, a skirt, a black lace thong that landed a handspan from his face. First there were kisses and whispers, then squeezes and cuddles, and after a while the unmistakable sound of a mouth swallowing a cock settled right over him. Adrián, frozen, realized in horror that two strangers were fucking just above him.

—Fuck, you suck it so well —Óscar growled—. Take it all, bitch, all the way to your throat.

Lucía answered with a wet, gurgling sound, her tongue working the head of his cock and her fingers squeezing his balls. Adrián heard every lick, every soft retch as she took him to the back of her throat, every dull slap of Óscar’s ass against the mattress when he shoved her face down to get deeper inside her. The box spring bowed less than a handspan from Adrián’s nose, and through a gap between the fallen sheet and the floor he could see the woman’s silhouette kneeling, her head bobbing up and down on his lap like a piston.

—Come here, slut, now I’m going to eat you out —Óscar muttered.

The scene shifted and the bed squealed when he flipped her over. Lucía fell onto her back almost on top of Adrián, separated from him only by the thickness of the mattress, and spread her legs with a long gasp. Óscar buried himself between her thighs, and what followed were sucks, licks, and that unmistakable sound of a wet cunt being devoured by a hungry mouth. She moaned with zero shame, grabbing his hair, telling him how to lick her clit, when to tongue her, when to suck her lips.

—There, there, don’t stop, keep licking me like that, bastard, I’m gonna come —Lucía shrieked.

Adrián squeezed his eyes shut, but ears couldn’t be closed. The woman’s cunt sounded as if Óscar were drinking her with his tongue, and every moan tightened some part of Adrián’s body that hadn’t worked without permission in years. He felt, in horror, that he was starting to get hard beneath the dress, crushed against the filthy floor, and that the bottle lodged in his ass moved with every breath, brushing a place inside him that should never have become so intimately known.

—Fuck me now —Lucía panted—. Put it in all the way, I want all of it.

—All of it, all of it? —he laughed.

—Balls deep, Óscar, don’t make me beg.

The box spring began bouncing to the rhythm of the thrusts. Adrián was face down, with the bed so low that every bounce pressed the bottle against his body and crushed everything else into the floor, mixing pain with a stimulation he hated to feel. Every time Óscar drove into Lucía, the combined weight of the two of them sank the mattress and drove the glass ass-end a centimeter deeper, and every time he pulled back, the bottle would poke out just enough for the next thrust to ram it in again. Adrián, terrified, realized that he was getting fucked by proxy, to the rhythm of two strangers, with a liter bottle for a cock.

—Like that, Óscar, like that, harder, deeper! —she panted.

—You like it, slut? You like how I’m driving it in? —he answered between muffled laughs—. Say it, tell me how I’m fucking you.

—You’re taking it all, bastard, you’re splitting me open, don’t stop, come inside me, come inside me now.

The rhythm quickened and Adrián found it unbearable. He felt the glass pumping into his ass in time with Óscar’s thrusts, he felt his own cock dripping inside the borrowed little dress, he felt the other man’s semen was about to empty itself a handspan from his face with nothing between them but a mattress, and all of that mixed together clouded his judgment. Anxiety won out over prudence and, at the worst possible moment, he decided to come out of hiding.

—God, I’m about to... I’m about to come —the man started to say.

Adrián peered out from the side of the bed just as the couple, tangled up in the act, with Óscar still buried in Lucía’s cunt and her legs over his shoulders, saw him appear. The bottle, because of the friction and movement, came loose at that instant and smashed against the floor with a crash that cut the scene dead, spraying glass everywhere across the bedroom.

—There’s someone in the house! —she screamed, covering her tits with the sheet—. Call the police!

—What the fuck are you doing here?! —he roared, yanking out, his cock still hard and shining and swaying from side to side as he got to his feet.

***

The man, with no time to get dressed, jumped from the bed and went after Adrián, who was already crawling toward the door. But in the hallway the heels betrayed him again and he fell face-first. His pursuer, barefoot and with his cock still hard and bobbing as he ran, stepped on the bottle’s shards, let out a scream, and collapsed on top of him in a ridiculous tangle of arms and legs, with Óscar’s warm cock landing full on Adrián’s bare ass beneath the hitched-up little dress.

—Hey, get off me! —Adrián protested, feeling with horror how the other man’s cockhead slipped between his buttocks, still forced open by the bottle—. Get off me now!

The man, hurting and still worked up from what he’d left unfinished in the bedroom, struggled upright as best he could, furious and red with embarrassment, still sporting the erection pointed at the ceiling. Adrián took advantage of the confusion to drag himself to the bathroom, get inside, and bolt the door.

—Get out of there, you degenerate! —the owner bellowed, pounding on the door.

Cornered, Adrián looked for an exit. He found the laundry basket and, in a gesture of pure desperation, snatched a piece of underwear —Lucía’s panties, still warm— to cover a little more than the torn dress allowed. Then he opened the bathroom window and lowered himself down into the patio.

Bad luck would not let him go for a second. The garment’s tag caught on a drainpipe and left him hanging halfway down, swaying with a jerk that tore a sharp cry from him as the fabric bit into his groin and hauled his balls up to his navel.

—Aaaaah! —he howled, kicking uselessly in the void.

The fabric finally gave way and Adrián fell into the bushes of a nearby park, which cushioned the blow just enough to keep him from breaking anything. He lay there staring at the sky, wondering what he had done to deserve a night like that.

He got up like an old man, aching in places he hadn’t even known he had, his ass still throbbing as if the bottle were still inside. He tried to wash his face in a park fountain, but the heels played him one last dirty trick: he slipped and went headfirst into the freezing water. He came out shivering, at least clean, though now the soaked dress was completely sheer, outlining his nipples, hard from the cold, and the stiff bulge that still hadn’t quite gone down.

Disoriented and freezing, he spotted two figures across a street and approached them with the hope of asking for help. Under the flickering light of a streetlamp he discovered, too late, that they were two women who worked that corner.

Seeing him wobble up on heels, stuffed into a see-through micro-dress clinging to his imaginary tits and the very real bulge, they mistook him for competition invading their turf. One of them came closer with a hostile look, and when Adrián opened his mouth to explain, he got a kick that buckled his knees right between the legs.

—This is our corner, handsome —the first one warned him—. Here we’re the ones who suck the cocks.

—If I see you around here again, you’ll be sorry —the other one finished.

Adrián, unable to breathe enough to protest and with his balls howling, did the only thing he knew how to do anymore that night: he took off running, stumbling down the street with two strangers chasing him and dawn peeking between the rooftops. Somewhere along the way, while he was finally running barefoot —because one of the heels had flown off—, he promised himself that he would never, under any circumstances, take that shortcut again.

When he finally reached the door of his building, with the dress in tatters and his pride in even worse shape, he found the door open and Carla waiting for him in the hallway, looking like she didn’t understand a single thing. She opened her mouth to ask the obvious question, but Adrián lifted a hand, exhausted.

—Don’t ask —he said—. Please, not tonight.

And he went into the shower, determined never to tell anyone how the way home had turned him, for those impossible hours, into the humiliated laughingstock of the whole neighborhood.