Your knuckles banged against the door a few times as you shifted your weight between your feet. The wind, slightly chilly, whistled around you as you patiently waited and waited. You shivered, zipping up your jacket the rest of the way, as you looked around. You were... maybe 5 minutes late, but you were alone outside, with no one behind you. Well, other than some old lady walking her dog on the other side of the street. But she wouldn't attend the "party", probably. Finally, the door creaked open slightly, the sound of someone clearing their throat emerging from the other side.
"It's Nicky. I had to stop for gas, it's why I'm late." You said, tucking your hands into your jacket pockets. "Don't make me say that stupid password." You grunted, letting out a groan as the door started to slowly creak shut. Putting your foot in the doorway, you cleared your throat. "Seriously, I'm not singing the stupid song."
"...James might've hopped you and is crashing the party." The high-pitched voice on the other side of the door whispered. "You said he tried to, after watching you hop your Aunt Cash. So you-"
"Fuck off Brooke. Lemme in." You grunted, kicking the door open and stepping inside. Brooke, a fellow hopper, was cowering on the floor, terrified of you. The shortstack college student was just begging to be hopped, but... well, there were rules. "James has never hopped me and he won't anytime soon. Got it?" You asked, locking the door behind you as Brooke frantically nodded her head, her frizzy blonde hair practically bouncing off her head. "Basement, right?"
"Y-Yeah." Brooke stammered, taking my hand so you could help her up. You, of course, slapped her fat ass as payment for helping her. Brooke yelped and jumped slightly, but the lustful glint in her blue eyes told you she wanted that and so much more. That'd have to wait, however, as Brooke led you through the dark house and to a stairwell. You gulped and followed the shortstack down the creaky stairs, eventually arriving at a familiar scene.
There were three people in the corner, tied up with bags over their heads, probably tape over their mouths underneath. The one on the left had a bronze-colored sticker on their shirt and looked like a man. The one on the right had a silver sticker and looked like a woman. The middle one... a gold sticker and, based on the bulge in her skirt and the tits on her chest, she was a "futanari", like Mercy. The three were the top prizes, definitely. You could feel that familiar tingling in the pit of stomach, drawing you to run over and hop those three. Scattered elsewhere in the basement were the others.
Brooke walked over and joined some of the other hoppers. Most were around your age, college aged or so. One was definitely a bit older, probably in her 40s, and had definitely had some work done. Breast implants weren't exactly your favorite, but... could be fun for a bit. And there was a chunky goth-looking girl in that group, so... that could be fun. Last in the group, there was... Yuki was her name, you thought. A thin and svelte Japanese woman with jet-black hair who had an amazingly flexible body. That's all that really mattered about her, honestly.
Another group were made up of an odd collection. Mrs. Axe, the vore user, was there, the thicc black neighbor you'd hopped many times before. She was chatting with some rich woman covered in jewelry who had the biggest, fakest tits you'd ever seen and had definitely enjoyed one of those Brazilian butt lifts in the past. Mrs. Collins, the vore user, was also there, the thicc pregnant art teacher who had the most mind-melting orgasms. Next to her was another pregnant woman, a raven-haired beauty with a plump body and engorged G Cups. Lastly, in the group there was a rather cute redheaded girl, although she had quite the rod that lifted up the front of her skirt.
There were a few other loners here and there, but you largely ignored them. Instead, you licked your lips and started planning out the night. A few bodies were already calling to you, but... the rules existed. The rules, as simple as they were, were ironclad. Hell, there was that time Aunt Cass broke the rules and ended up being passed around by everyone else for an entire week! You definitely didn't want to break any, and they weren't terribly hard to follow:
1. No hopping/voring without a greeting, and a warning OR an accepted challenge first
2. All hops/vores are permanent, until morning, no fighting back once you've lost
3. No tag-teaming, only 1v1s
4. No leaving until you've hopped/vored at least one person
5. The last three standing win the "prizes"
6. The upstairs bedrooms are available for "whatever"
7. If someone is in the bedrooms, they are firmly off-limits until morning
8. If someone leaves the house before prizes are distrubuted, these rules are no longer in place
9. Have fun
Mumbling the rules under your breath, you licked your lips and scanned the room, surveying the room and contemplating what your first course of action would be...
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