You blink in surprise, eyes adjusting to the light, before breaking into a broad grin. You’d known what she was planning for at least a month, but seeing all of your longtime friends after a while was worth pretending it was a secret.
They came up, smiling and laughing, hugging you and saying how nice it’s been to see you after so long, gesturing toward the pile of gifts on the dining room table, alongside a cake with your name scrawled beautifully.
You make merry, talking to everyone and settling in, drinks come out, music comes on, the party reaches full swing. It’s nice, if a little cramped. Some of your friends came from out of state, others from even further abroad, and while there were only about 4 or 5 that attended, it was nice to have everyone together again after so long.
She came up behind you, hands snaking around your waist, nose and lips finding the hollow of your neck as she pulled you into a warm embrace. She hummed in satisfaction, a noise almost like a purr, kissing gently and looking out on the party.
“Having a good time?” she asked, and you could feel her smile against your skin.
“Of course,” you reply, leaning back into her. Your fingers trace over her arms, your body pushes into her touch. “It’s wonderful.”
“Count the gifts yet?” she grins as your face flushes.
“Yes you did,” she laughs.
You huff. “One’s missing.”
“Did you not get me anything? It’s alright if you didn’t, I know that you-?”
Her tone is lower, softer, warmer. You feel a full-body shudder. “O-oh?”
“When the party winds down you can go get it. Let’s have fun with the girls first, yeah?”
There’s a fluttering in your stomach now, a heat beginning to gently bubble up in your chest. You try to tamp it down, smother the little flame that’s started coursing through you, but in each interaction, you feel it there. The way someone laughs, exposing their teeth as they smile. The way someone reaches out, their hand brushing yours, sending little sparks over your skin. The way someone unbuttons their top button, flush from drink, exposing just a little more cleavage.
Just her words send you into a tizzy. How does she do it so effortlessly? How does she fall into that mentality so easily, and take you with her, dragging you down and down until you can barely think? You’re smiling at the right times, laughing at all the right jokes, but you feel lost. You can’t think about anything else. Everything at the party is a haze, and the only thing in sharp clarity is the way she moves about the group, laughing and smiling and chatting.
The second the more upbeat music gives way for softer, slower tunes, you’re on top of her.
“Where’s my gift?” you smile.
“Not going to open everyone else’s first?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I want your gift,” you say firmly, planting a foot and crossing your arms.
“Goodness,” she laughs, turning toward you, cupping your face. “Greedy little thing.” You feel hot all over, squirming despite your posturing. “You sure? No going back to the party after that.”
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. You try again, something between a squeak and a whimper emerges before you stammer, “I- I just want your gift! That’s all!”
“Alright, alright,” she smiles, putting her hands up in surrender. “It’s up on the bed. If you go up to get it, come back down with it, got it?”
“I… yeah! Of course, obviously.”
“Obviously,” she grins, almost a sneer.
You dodge away from her, climbing the stairs two at a time and making your way into your bedroom. Settled in on your sheets is a plain looking box, a simple purple bow in the corner. You’re already starting to feel nervous, hands shaking as you pull the box into your lap. You shake it a bit to get a gist of the weight, and carefully peel away the tape to open it up.
Your face immediately goes bright red. You snatch up your phone, swiping to the contact that’s all heart emojis, and furiously slam out a text.
You pause, pouting at your phone. “You can’t be serious”
“Pretty simple choice, baby. Safe word and we go back to partying, or you come back down.”
You huff, crossing your arms and looking over the gift, eyes darting back and forth anxiously. “Everyone agreed to this?”
You shiver at that, breath picking up a little bit. All of them? They all agreed to…? Not just agreed to, want this. They… they want this. Want you. You’re almost panting a bit now as you lift the box back into your lap, gently picking through its contents.
There isn’t much. The fabric is pretty sparse; light purple lingerie that hugs your hips and accentuates your chest (though you still think there isn’t much there). And a small plug with a little red heart-shaped gem on it. You shiver at that specifically.
“All of it?” you text her, eyeing the plug.
You whimper against your will, taking a deep breath. This is what you wanted. You’d joked about it more than a few times, but it was never really a joke. The fabric feels good in your hands, trembling as you turn them over before moving to your own clothes.
You feel cold and a bit exposed, wincing at the plug before looking yourself over in the mirror.
You feel a mix of emotions as you go bright red, crossing your arms over your chest and whining before snatching up your phone. “It’s way too much!! This is so embarrassing!!”
“Then tap out. It’s all up to you, baby.”
Her words send a little hum through your body, the way she so casually has you wrapped around her finger is… kind of intoxicating. You clutch your phone tight in shaky hands, moving to the top of the staircase and looking down. It looks… so much further than it did before. Each step makes your cheeks burn a little brighter and you get a little dizzier.
By the time you reach the bottom of the stairs, you’re more aware of the vibe. The tone of the party has gotten much more subdued; low, bassy music is slowly pumping through speakers, conversation has dropped to a low, almost whispered chatter, and everyone seems to have gathered in the living room. All eyes find you as you enter, bright red and eyes downcast. Someone whistles and there’s a smattering of chuckles before they’re chastised in whispered tones.
“C’mere, baby,” she smiles, holding out a hand for you. It’s safety, something grounding in this situation you’ve never found yourself in. You rush over, taking it quickly and climbing into her lap, curling into her chest. “There you go,” she coos, petting your hair. “Breathe slow for me, alright?”
You nod, closing your eyes and letting your breath become slow and steady. You match her breathing, feel her heartbeat under your hands, and things still for a moment. Then her fingers find your face, pulling you to face her and smiling. Her nose bumps yours playfully, her lips brush along yours, free hand holding your waist.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” she says, far softer than before. Her tone has dropped into that maternal, caring mode. “Need anything?”
“No,” you reply, shaking your head and sighing softly. “I’m okay.”
You bite your lip, looking around the room. Hungry stares are all fixed completely on you. You are the absolute center of attention, and it’s terrifying, and… “Green,” you whisper, shivering.
“That’s my girl,” she smiles, pulling you into a slow, gentle kiss. “That’s my good girl.” You gasp softly at how quickly her tone changes, falling back into its familiar cadence, eyes looking over you needily. “Then I guess it’s time to start, hm?”
“S-s-start?” you smile, cocking your head. “What do you mean?”
She takes your hand, guiding you off her lap. “It’s your birthday, birthday girl,” she grins. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“U-um-!” You blush. You do, but you certainly don’t want to say it. “I-? No, no idea, I have no idea what-?”
Your knees go shaky at the command, whining and hiding your face in your hands. “I-! P-please-?”
Your brow furrows and you fidget in place. “I... hmph.”
Her gaze falls. “Oh? Is this what we’re doing?” There’s a light snickering from the observers and you feel your face go hot. “Now that you’ve got eyes on you, you suddenly have to put up a strong act?”
She stands, grabbing you by your waist, fingers digging in as you gasp. She’s so close, a few inches taller and yet looming over you, looking down into your eyes with a playful sneer. “Then you can walk back upstairs and put my gift back in the box, can’t you?”
“Is the party over? Should I tell everyone to go back to what they were doing?”
You whine, knees buckling, her hands keeping you up. “I... please?”
She sits down, straightening out her lap and giving you a stern look. “One more time. Try again.”
You whimper, feeling the blush of humiliation, of being forced to comply. “P-please, Miss. S-sorry… sorry Miss.”
You whimper as you shakily comply, grabbing a pillow to hide your face in to avoid seeing the stares from the girls around the room.
“There you go, sweet thing,” she hums, hooking a finger in your panties and pulling them down. “Looking so pretty for me. You know the rule, don’t you?”
“I-I…?” you whine, mouth dry.
“Keep count for me. If you ever lose count, we start over. And we will keep starting over until we get there.”
“Yes, Miss,” you whisper, shivering and clinging to the pillow, to her legs, to anything to ground you in the absolute tide you’ve been thrown into. You can’t see behind you as she messes with something, but eventually there’s a long, drawn-out moment of silence before SMACK! It hurts, but it hurts good, and it’s probably… some kind of paddle? You aren’t sure when she got something like that, or if one of the other girls brought it, or-?
“O-o-one!” you quickly stammer, fingers curling around your pillow. Fuck. Soft hands gently move over the impact site, and you can already feel the sting left behind. As soon as her warm touch leaves you’re already finding yourself bracing. And bracing. And bracing, it takes forever for her to- SMACK!
“T-two!” you whine, shuddering and panting.
She reaches over to grab something up. “Good girl.” A click-click follows, and your brain feels a bit fuzzy at the reinforcement. It’s easier to comply when she gets you in that headspace, so you appreciate it, pushing into her happily at the noise. “Let’s keep going.”
Over and over, a sharp smack followed by you counting out loud. You’re diligent, you don’t want to forget and slip up and have it go on forever, but the occasional noise from her clicker has you fuzzy and dizzy. Occasionally, you look around the room, just sneaking little glances, and see the eyes still fixed on you. Watching you, wanting. There’s a pair on a loveseat, kissing and watching you eagerly, another in an armchair, idly palming her bulge, and you’re not sure if it’s a strap or more.
You’re so dizzy now. You make it to the end and she sets the paddle down, gently massaging your ass, bright red and probably bruised as it was. “You did so good, baby,” she hums, leaning in to kiss your shoulders. “Need a break, or do you want more?”
You shiver, relaxing into her touch, letting her comfort you. “M-more, please, Miss.”
“Alright, princess.” The sounds of people starting to get up caught your attention, and you glanced over to see some of the girls clearing off the coffee table, setting down blankets and pillows to make it comfortable. You went bright red at the realization, hiding your face in the pillow again. “You’re so cute,” she laughs, running fingers through your hair, nails grazing your scalp comfortingly. “Let me know if you need a break.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you mumble. After a short moment, her hands gently pull you upright, standing you up on shaky legs before guiding you to the table. It’s… the perfect height, which makes you blush again, so much it bleeds down into your shoulders and chest, splotchy red letting everyone know how embarrassed you are.
She… sits back down. Watching. You frown and cock your head, looking over to her.
“You enjoy,” she smiles. “I need to make sure they all behave.”
Before you can object, the girls are on you. Roaming hands move across your skin, some soft and dainty, some rough and calloused. They coo at you, telling you how pretty you are, how good you look, how soft you feel. They grope your hips, your chest, caress your cheek. Some even move down to kiss you, bite you, drag their tongue along your skin, making you whimper and moan.
Attention from all over. Every inch of you is getting touched, caressed, pampered. You’re as dizzy as when she uses the clicker on you.
One of the girls kneels down between your legs, kissing along your thighs and giving long, teasing scratches. Another, the one that’s been slowly rubbing your hair, unzips her jeans, and you go bright red. You feel your hands being guided, one up under a dress to feel how wet her panties are getting, and another to palm at someone throbbing under her skirt. Fuck. You’re starting to really get dizzy now. The girl standing above you finally drops her jeans and boxers, leaning in. You’re almost frustrated its strap, but you nuzzle into it and moan regardless. Hot kisses move up your thighs and between your legs, kissing over your soaked lingerie, and the two at your sides have started grinding hot and heavier.
And still, she’s sitting there watching you. She’s touching herself, you know, you can tell from the angle, but you can’t quite see, not amidst the girls who are fawning over you and pawing at your body, but you can see her eyes, and the hunger there. The possessiveness. The need. It drives you fucking crazy.
The skirt and dress are moved, and you feel your hands touch them – a soft, smooth cunt for your fingers to curl up against, and a thick, hard cock, throbbing under your touch. They want you to touch them so bad. They crave you. It feels so good to know how much you’re the toy of the hour. How much they need you specifically. All eyes on you, all focus, all attention.
The girl slides her strap into your mouth and you gasp and whimper, shivering and arching your back. From her seat she watches, pausing and observing you for any sign of hesitance, but finding none she goes back to simply watching as you begin to feel your throat stretch around the new girl.
Your hips are rocking, the girl down below moving your panties to the side so she can fully taste you now, tongue moving along your skin, moaning and pulling her hair back to give you what you really deserve. The two at your sides have leaned in, kissing messily over you, rutting into your hands for stimulation as they make out. It’s so fucking hot. You wish someone was kissing you, but you’re quickly reminded of the strap you’re sucking as she grabs your head and starts to pump slowly in and out of your mouth.
You lose yourself a bit. Dizzy and disoriented, the world starts to melt away, homogenous pleasure washing over you. Two fingers in warm cunt, a hard cock pumping in and out of your hand, a tongue worshipping your body, your throat used like a toy; it’s all so much, so, so much, and your body trembles under the weight of the lust, shaking and moaning.
You don’t quite cum, but it’s close, it’s like… a quake, under your skin. Something euphoric and close, but not quite there. You know why, of course, but this is good enough, good enough as they touch you and want you and need you, and then they’re cumming, one girl clenching around your fingers, another shooting across your chest, the one in your mouth simply whining and holding you still as she twitches.
When they pull away, you feel cold, suddenly very empty and alone, isolated as you are on the coffee table. They retreat to their seats, watching you expectantly, and… her eyes are there.
She looks at you like a predator over a prey. Eyes narrow but pupils blown out in pleasure. Her hand strokes herself slowly, watching with interest, free hand eventually raising to beckon you closer. “C’mere.”
It’s hard to get up, and eventually one of the other girls rises to help you stand, guiding you over with a hand holding yours and another at the small of your back, you feel… almost like a princess. It’s silly. But you can feel the attention on you still there as you make your way to her, feeling her cup your face and kiss you deeply and hungrily, her tongue forcing its way into your mouth, her hands moving along your bare body.
One snakes around your waist, moving behind you and gently toying with the plug, making you gasp and whine, hiding your face in her chest.
“You know why I made you wear this,” she purrs.
“I want to hear you say it.”
You take a deep breath, but your voice still comes out as a whisper: “B-because… that’s… because I’m yours…”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Always.”
She slowly, carefully, pulls it out, setting it aside and lying back on her chair, patting her lap. You climb up onto her, resting your hands on her chest and nuzzling into her neck. She smells so good, she feels so good, she-
“Nnh!” You gasp as you feel her prodding at you, already lubed up as she slowly slides into you. “F-fuck! Fuck, fuck, Miss…!”
“There you go, shhh, it’s okay,” she whispers, holding you close. She cradles you against her chest, holding you tight, enveloping you in her touch. “I’ve got you. Breathe for me.”
You nod shakily and take in a gasping breath before sighing it out. You do this again, and again, and eventually it starts to calm. It feels so strange but it also feels like her. She’s fully buried in you when she purrs and kisses your chest, shoulders, neck.
“May I?” she asks. She doesn’t have to, obviously. All of this is for your benefit. You’d said “green”, and she knows you can back out at any time, call “yellow” or “red”, and you haven’t even come close. Her asking isn’t for permission, it’s to draw it out of you. To make you say it.
To remind you that, no matter what, you belong to her.
She grabs your hips, slowly pulling out before sliding back in. It’s… everything. You cling to her as she fucks you slowly, picking up speed but never going too fast. She’s savoring it, every second, and you know the other girls are watching, some are even touching themselves to you now. Like a porno only they ever get to see. Fuck, that gets you hot. Their personal porn star for the night.
You whine and cling to her tightly, feeling her hands in your hair as she fucks you deeper, harder, but never faster. “Good girl, baby,” she says, clicking the clicker. “Good girl. My good girl.”
“Yours, yours…” you pant, clawing at her chest needily. “Please, please, I need…?”
“Do you?” She grins, grabbing your chin and making you look her in the eyes. “Use your words, baby.”
“Let me cum, cum in me, pleeeaaase…” You blush at how pathetic you whine for her, but you can feel how much she loves it as she twitches in you.
“That’s my girl.” She holds you tight, finally picking up speed, finally fucking you the way you need, hitting all the right spots, pounding you deep, fucking you until-
You don’t realize you’re yelling until her hand clamps over your mouth, groaning and holding you tight as she finishes in you. The two of you twitch and writhe together for a long moment until finally the moment passes and you both collapse, exhausted, sweaty and sore.
“Fuck,” she laughs, peppering your shoulders and neck with kisses. “You’re such a good girl.”
“Mmmm,” you moan, unable to move. You feel hands on you again, this time with a damp towel and some water, gently tilting your head up to drink as they clean you off. Strong hands help lift you up over to the couch, lying down with your head in her lap as she plays with your hair.
“There you go,” she smiles. Her voice has left the “dominatrix” range and returned to the soft, warm tones landing solidly in “girlfriend” territory. “How’s my girl?”
“Mm, good,” you smile, nuzzling.
“Poor thing is all fucked out, she can’t even think straight.” The other girls laugh and you hide your face. “It’s alright. I’ll have someone go grab your clothes. Just rest here for a minute and then we can get back to the party, okay?”
“Mmmm,” you smile, closing your eyes. “I didn’t get to open my presents yet.”
“I know, dear,” she smiles, fingers threading through your hair.
You pause. “That’s not all you got me, is it?” you huff.
She laughs, shaking her head and rolling her eyes before brushing her fingers along your cheek. “No, baby. I’ve got a lot more for you after this.”
You close your eyes. “Okay, good.” A pause. “Wait, what does that mean?”