Hostess Training

She stood at the door, nervous butterflies in her stomach.

For the hundredth time already, she smoothed the folds of her black dress down over her thighs, and did another quick run down her back. Her fingers pinching at the short hem, trying again in vain to pull it down to cover her ass, aware that when she moved wrong- or right- the green lace of her panties were visible. Sir loved her in dark greens and blacks. It complimented her coloring: olive skin that never quite lost its tan, even in winter; her large, brown doe-eyes; medium brown hair that fell to mid-back, when it wasn't tied up in a bun atop her head. It made her look like a wood nymph, he told her. Then he'd tease her for being his little wood nympho.

The doorbell rang and she jumped, pulled out of her little reverie. She was embarrassed- Sir would have scolded her, had he realized she'd been daydreaming when she was supposed to be attending the door. Quickly she stepped forward, opening it to the chill of the winter evening. Two men stepped over the threshold, still chatting with each other as they pulled off their hats and started to take off their coats.

She smiled broadly to them, warm and welcoming, as she bowed slightly. "Welcome, gentlemen! Please, may I take your coats?"

She didn't meet their eyes, but she felt their gaze drinking her in as they considered her with their own grins while they surrendered their coats. They said a brief thanks, but went right back to their conversation as they moved further into the house. After putting the coats away, she returned to her place by the door, hands folded demurely before her while she waited for the rest of Sir's guests.

Two more guests arrived, both on their own, both awarding her with their own visual inspections. The second man stopped her movements with a word, curling his finger under her chin, tilting it up. She stilled, but let him survey her features, keeping her eyes down. When he released her and moved away, she breathed out and returned to her task of storing his coat.

Four guests was the number for this evening, and with her door duties done, she slipped out of the foyer into the living room. There was a football game on. She didn't really notice who was playing, although she was aware it was an "important" game. A bowl, but not the super bowl. Sir's favorite was playing. What made her pause though were the rival team's colors: they matched the ribbons Sir had tied in her hair for the evening, and the color of her lace underwear.

She glanced at her Sir, who was watching her as she worked out this revelation. He hid a smirk while he took a sip from his bottle of beer, and her own lips pursed as she smirked back at him. Bare feet carried her over to where he was seated, and she knelt on the ground at his feet. He awarded her with a rub on the back of her neck, fingers massaging the exposed flesh. A soft sound of appreciation escaped her, closing her eyes as she leaned into the rewarding touch. Realizing she wasn't paying attention, again, her eyes fluttered open and she made sure to watch the amount of alcohol left in everyone's drinks. The men had opened the first round themselves, which she attended the door- Sir wanted them to wait at first before receiving her full service.

The game started, and the men turned their attention to it, cheering or yelling for each play. She slipped off her pillow while the watchers debated a call from a referee, and when she returned, she delicately plucked out an empty bottle from the hand of one guest, and replaced it with a fresh cold beer. The man was surprised, but grinned and thanked her. She smiled demurely back to him, then did another quick survey of the drinks. THIS was when her attention would be needed most.

Drinks were refilled as the game continued on, more and more being needed as the favored team struggled. The tension built as the frustration grew, the guests' team falling more and more behind their rivals. The conversation grew more angry, more yelling than cheers now. More bad plays, more "bad calls" from the refs.

The tension snapped when she bent over to replace another emptied bottle, and the guest caught her arm and yanked her down to her knees in front of him.

"Your team is making a mockery of us," he growled at her, his hand grasping her hair bun to keep her down in front of her. Her own eyes were wide, wanting to protest that it wasn't HER team. She glanced at Sir, who was watching her. He took another drink. Waiting.

She kept her protest behind her teeth, then smiled at the man in front of her. "Let me apologize to you."

She unzipped the front of his pants, hands drawing out his cock. He watched her, hungrily, as her lips wrapped around him. Her index and thumb wrapped tightly around the base of his shaft, squeezing lightly as her tongue pressed the underside of his cock, massaging it as her head bobbed up and down. He groaned, forcing her head down while she worked until she gagged and cough, throat closing around his girth. His hips thrust into her, forcing himself deeper and deeper until he stopped, holding her head down while his cock throbbed in her mouth, emptying himself down her throat.

He grunted, then tossed her away from him. He watched her though with satisfaction, her face wet from the exchange. She sniffed, always embarrassed by how she looked after such exchanges, but she resisted the urge to wipe her face.

"Say thank you, Pet."

She froze, cheeks flushing red with heat. Sir had had to remind her...

"Thank you for punishing my mouth," she murmured, offering the man a pleased smile.

"Good. Clean yourself up."

She thanked her Sir, pushing herself up to her feet. She quickly made her way out of the room to the powder closet in the hall, freshening up as fast as she could so she could return to her duties. It wasn't but a minute or two before she returned to the party, but this time, the atmosphere was different. All eyes were on her, and before she could move to her kneeling position, one of the other guests spoke up.

"Come here, girl," growled one of the men who had been first to arrive, beckoning her over. Shyly she approached him, and squeaked as his hands circled his around her ass and pulled her closer to him. "Lift that dress of yours."

She obeyed, holding up her skirts as if she were going to curtsy to him. He leered disapprovingly, then reached out and yanked her panties down. "Get those off, you slut. Think your team is going to actually win this? Nah, we're going to fuck them, like we're going to fuck you."

Laughter rang up at this assertion, and he pulled her onto his lap, his hands gripping at her elbows. She made a little sound of surprise, but recovered quickly, playing her role. "Fucking me will certainly help your team fuck mine," she cooed.

Her hand moved between, undoing his pants. Feeling bold, her eyes met his as she stroked his half-mast cock. He watched her, his breaths heavier, but she must not have been doing enough for his satisfaction. His hand swatted hers out of the way, and he took hold of himself, pumping firmly to get him harder.

"Sit on it, cunt," he growled, holding his cock up. She obeyed, rising up before slowly sinking down onto him. Impatient with her, he bucked the last few inches into her, making her cry out as he sank into her. "God, yes. Good fucking girl," he praised her, and bucked his hips into her more as he found a rhythm.

"Yeah! Punish that pussy, Will! Fuck her good! Show her who's the winner here!" The friend whom he'd arrived with goaded on, watching as he pumped his own organ with his hand. Trying to please, she reached out towards him, meaning to take hold of his cock and stroke him too. She caught hold of him, but her hand slipped, surprised that he had already had lubed himself. Her intention was misinterpreted, although it wasn't an entire failure. He took it as an invitation, practically hopping up on his feet to grab her hips tightly. Without exchanging words, the man buried in her pussy paused, long enough for his friend to position the head of his cock to her rear, sinking himself into her slowly. He rocked slowly at first, just by himself, nose nuzzling in at her shoulder. Then, steadily, his friend also started fucking her again.

They had a rhythm, having obviously shared a girl together like this. She was left in a daze of sensation, each thrust into her tight holes drawing out a cry every time they plunged into her depths. She felt their fingers gripping her, moving her as they pleased, feeling their breath on her skin. One of them, she didn't know who, had pushed the sleeves of her loose dress off her shoulders, exposing her breasts as they swayed from the impact. The man under her wrapped his mouth around one breast, suckling her before his teeth bit down. She tensed, crying out from the confusing mix of pain and pleasure, her back arching to press the captive teat into his mouth more.

That seemed to be the cue needed, and both men came in her, almost simultaneously. Their synchronized strokes slowed as they milked their cocks into her, trying to spill every drop inside her holes, and left her legs trembling.

Pulling from her, the guest who had buried himself in her ass excused himself to go clean up, offering praise to her Sir, complimenting him on his cumslut. That made her flush with pleasure, smiling warmly. A gentle pat was signal for her to pull herself off of the man under her, and she stood shakily on her own two feet.

Her dress was being yanked down the rest of the way, leaving her entirely nude and exposed to Sir and his guests. Large hands grasped her breasts as a form stepped up behind her. She could feel the warmth of skin, and the thickness of an already stiff cock pressing between her ass. Her eyes lifted, found Sir's- he was still patiently waiting, watching, but he nodded to the man behind her. It must've been the final man who'd arrived, and he turned her and pushed her onto the ottoman.

"Present."

The command left no room for questions, or surprise. She scrambled into a kneeling position, sitting back on her heels. Her knees spread, her fingers laced behind her head, taking in a deep breath, her breasts displayed. He circled her like a predator, a hunter circling around vulnerable prey. She swallowed, heart in her throat, feeling a cold sweat. But Sir was there, and she knew he would protect her if things went too far. He knew her boundaries, her limits. She trusted him, so managed her nervousness and waited for this man to decide what to do with her.

A hand slapped her breast, hard enough to leave a red mark, making her jerk and yelp as she recoiled. His hand was on the back of her neck, not tender like Sir's; it gripped her hard, and moved her back into position.

He circled again. Slapped her breast again. This time, she didn't flinch as much, although she did cringe and whine. Another blow came again, harder this time, and faster. She felt the stinging warmth spread over her skin, felt the weight of her breast as it jiggled from the impact.

"Up."

She raised off her heels, but stayed kneeling. Cum leaked out of her, running down her thighs, making them slick and sticky. Her gaze stayed forward, but she could sense him watching it while she struggled to hold still.

The hand lashed out, reddening one asscheek. She knew it was coming, and had breathed carefully and made sure she didn't tense. A second one followed the first, and a third, a fourth, all in quick succession. There was a pause, and his hand returned to her neck, forcing her to bend forwards.

"Fours."

Her hands came down obediently, supporting herself. He was inside of her within moments, sinking himself deep, driving into her without more delay. Leaning over her, his teeth brushed over her shoulder, biting as his thick cock pierced through her. A cry escaped her, sure the head of his cock was pressing to her cervix, listening to the growl.

"Such a good little slut. Moaning like a bitch in heat. Taking those cocks like a hungry whore. You like this, don't you?"

She nodded her head, her voice not quite working yet as his hips moved, pulling out until just the head of his member was inside of her. She waited for him to thrust into her again, but he held there, waiting, until she squirmed and tried to sink her hips back to meet his.

"No," he warned. "You didn't answer the question."

"Yes," she whimpered quickly, still squirming, trying to sink him back into her.

"Yes, what?"

Her cheeks flushed, eyes squeezing shut tightly.

"Yes, I like this! Please, more, please fuck me, please!" She begged, needing more inside of her.

Her begging was rewarded with a swift slap to her ass, the sound of it like a whip crack that made her body clench. THAT was the moment he thrust back into her, and this time he took her hard. Relentlessly he slammed into her, driving into her as deep as he could. She felt the juices squirting from her as the previous loads were pumped out of her. He yanked on her hair, arching her back as his pace increased. Someone's cock pushed into her mouth, forcing its way down her throat. She didn't look to see who it was, and he didn't seem to care if she looked or not. She was their fuck toy, and their growled words reminded her every time they gave her an instruction or command. They filled her holes with their cum again, seeding deep inside her pussy, spilling down her throat into her belly, filling her ass. The game was quite forgotten, the guests all focused on taking their delight in her. Her every movement and moan was to bring them the most satisfaction, to coax them to the climax of their pleasure, over and over again until each of the men were entirely spent.

They left, she wasn't sure when. She wasn't even sure if the game had finished or not. They'd left her lying on her back on the ottoman. Her legs were still spread open, their seed coating her both inside and out. Eyes closed, a lazy smile stayed on her lips, basking in the sensation.

Sir moved finally, hovering over her, watching his girl as she still tried to catch her breath. When her eyelids fluttered open, she caught sight of him grinning at her. She flushed at the thought of the sight she must've made, but she smiled shyly back at him.

"Next time, darling, you'll be good and see them off, too. Get them cleaned, dressed, and coats fetched. Got it?"

She nodded quickly, the flush deepening. "Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

He chuckled, nodding his head. "It's alright. You did well for your first time. I'm proud of you."

Warmth flooded her chest at the words, and when he leaned over her messy form, she met the kiss he offered her. Apparently, she wasn't quite finished with her duties for the evening, as her Sir slipped between her legs. She spread her legs to him, worried that he would be displeased by her being covered by his guests cum, worried that he would dislike the mess. He didn't seem to notice though as his own familiar cock filled her, and he fucked her slowly. His kisses were gentle, his words full of praise, even as he stole the last of her energy and took her at his own hungry pace. When he filled her, adding his seed to the mix already pooling in her belly, it was the sweetest reward she could imagine.

"Good girl. Very good girl," he murmured to her, brushing a hand through hair that had come loose from its bun earlier in the night. Her lips curled into a weary, but pleased smile. When he slipped a plug into her pussy, she squeaked out in surprise. Her eyes opened wide, looking up at her Sir, who only grinned mischievously in answer.

"Good. Girl," he repeated, slowly, his hand rubbing her belly as he winked. Baffled, she could only nod her head at the instruction, but smiled as she took his offered hand. He'd help her up, guiding her up the stairs where he cleaned and soothed her before crawling into their bed, settling in for some much-needed rest.