The Games We Play

Going to a new party always felt a little weird -- You never really knew who to talk to, who to approach, what you should be doing. But it's a good way to make new friends.

She was wearing her new skirt. It was a little shorter than she realized as it hiked up to her midriff, the under curve of her ass cheeks peeking out from the fabric when she bent over. She kept pulling the skirt down again so it was more modestly mid thigh instead. She combined it with a black halter top and her hair bundled up in a mess on the top of her head, showing off her slender neck and collar bones.

She arrived at the party a little cold and a little exhilarated. It started off as a garden party, and there was a trampoline, a table with mixed drinks, and little vegetable patches with chairs strewn around them. The people looked hip, and together, and far more adventurous than her. Purple hair, tattoos, fashionable outfits...

It was kind of terrifying.

She beelined it for the snacks table and gingerly pecked at a pretzel while scanning the yard. There was one clump of people debating the best ingredients for an obscure mix drink. There was another talking about mutual acquaintances over a beer. Two old friends were catching up about something clearly personal in hushed tones and concerned faces.

The door to the kitchen stood open and she peered inside. A row of shoes indicated more people in that direction. She wasn't entirely confident she should be roaming through the host's house but exploring seemed far more comfortable than wall flowering.

Putting her slippers to the side, she loped up a short flight of stairs into a hallway and another more elaborate kitchen. Everything was laid out in soft pastels, with sunlight filtering through tastefully covered glass windows set high into the walls. A dark nook of book shelves transitioned into the open space of a living room with soft carpets, two couches in an L-shape around a fireplace, and a cluster of five men strewn around them.

They looked up when she entered, a half forgotten bottle of wine rolling away from a guy lounging on the floor.

The conversation stilled immediately, and she felt like she had walked into something private. Not really sure what to do, she waved at them with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," she managed to say in a soft voice, "Uhm, where is the bathroom?"

A guy in a white button down shirt and a smooth black comb over, smiled at her reassuringly. "Oh, you are not intruding! You might actually be able to help us." he said suggestively, glancing across his friends sitting around the room. Smiles slowly crept up their faces as understanding of... something, dawned on them.

"We were just going to start a game. Do you like games?" he continued, now staring at her intently.

She swallowed, feeling her heart hammering in her chest and a blush creep up her cheeks.

"Uhm, yeah, sure, I love games." she managed to half stutter.

"Great! Come on over. You can sit in the middle." he pointed to a spot on the carpet that would have her surrounded by guys sitting on either couches or the floor.

"Uh... ok..." she padded over, careful to avoid the half-full bottles of booze, and sat down on her knees on the carpet. She wasn't sure which way to turn as every direction would have her back to someone. She angled herself toward the guy in the white shirt as he had been talking the most. This left her seemingly sitting at his feet kneeling, while she tugged at her skirt to be sure she remained decent.

"Perfect," the guy said, eyes gleaming. He glanced around to his friends and then continued "So this is basically a variant of Truth or Dare, except everyone does the same action all at once. The person who is slowest needs to finish their drink. And we all take turns declaring a Truth or Dare for the group. You ready?"

Her mind was racing... How does that even work? Won't we all end up saying a truth all at the same time and no one hearing each other? Who counts as the slowest? The person who starts speaking last or the person who is done speaking last?

Yet she found herself rather frozen with all the guys looking at her. Flustered, she failed to voice any of her questions. She could just see what everyone else was doing and copy that, right?

The leader seemed to take her smiles and furtive glances as consent.

"Let's get started then! Jake, you want to do the honors?" he said, while looking across her to the guy lounging behind her.

"Sure... Let's do a count down. I'll count down to three and then say the Dare," he paused for a second to check that everyone got it.

"One, two, three..." he paused again. "Reach out and touch the person you are currently looking at. Don't let go till you get a new instruction."

Five hands reached out to her, as her mind confusedly executed by reaching forward to the leader, and resting her hand on his knees.

She then felt one hand come to rest on her knee, one on her hip, one on her shoulder, one on the small of her back, and the leader facing her had reached out and covered her hand in his, all the while staring at her.

She blushed furiously, her body feeling very warm.

She glanced around, and one guy to her right was leaning forward and had his hand resting on her hip. The two guys to her left were also leaning forward, one with his hand on her shoulder and another on her bare knee. She couldn't see the guy behind her...

Part of her felt she should do something - say 'no', get up, maybe even just laugh?

But nothing happened. She felt like a deer in headlights. Things were happening to her, and it wasn't up to her to...

Her mind flailed around, trying to make sense of the situation. To find words to put to these feelings. And in the meantime things kept happening while her opinion seemed clearly irrelevant.

"Ok, let's go around the circle," the leader said.

She heard a new voice coming from her left.

"One, two, three... Close your eyes and get in a comfortable position"

Everyone shifted around her, hands still pressed against her body. She closed her eyes and became more aware of the heat emanating from five different places.

Another new voice, now coming from the direction of her knee.

"Say how many days it has been since you masturbated."

"0", "3", "6", "1", "0"...

She had said nothing. She had no idea???

"Ah, you skipped one! Time to drink!" the leader said gleefully.

A cup was being held to her lips. Who was doing that?

She drank obediently. Her mind was swimming, thoughts were coming in more slowly. It was hard to track what was going on or what she wanted. She felt swept up. Swept away...

She finished the drink, feeling a little dizzy from the amount.

"Good girl..." someone whispered behind her.

Her pussy clenched at the words, and she froze. No one could see that, right? No one could see how she felt? Her heart was hammering in her chest again.

Now it was the leader's turn.

"Clasp your hands behind your back."

All hands were removed from her body, and she dutifully pulled hers back. She was still sitting on her knees on the carpet, and felt her spine straightening further as she clasped her hands together against the small of her back. With her eyes closed, she was uncomfortably aware of how this pushed her chest forward.

"Rub your cheek against the carpet."

This... this was absurd... she... "aaaaa" her mind screamed.

"You are not the last one yet, baby," someone whispered behind her, "Here, let me help you."

He then gently grabbed the back of her neck and firmly pushed her head down. She slowly bent forward till her face was buried in the soft carpet, her hands still clasped behind her back, leaning on her knees.

Her breathing had become quicker, yet she still felt frozen. It was as if her body worked in distinct frames - each one set up by the men around her, each one held frozen when no one acted upon her. Yet her mind kept flailing in the background: What was she doing? How could she get out of this? Why was she doing this?

They had gone full circle. Was it her turn now? It was a distant thought... she wouldn't have been able to talk if she wanted to. Her body felt locked into whatever position they placed her, the controls somehow having been wrenched away from her.

Then she heard the voice of the first guy behind her:

"Don't move, but open your eyes and look behind you."

And she did, glancing behind her back, her face still buried in the carpet, her ass up in the air.

Behind her she saw all five men lined up. The middle one had spoken, and had his phone out, aimed at her. He was looking intently at the screen and then down at her, catching her eye.

Her face was frozen in shock and fear. The other four men, two to each side of him, all had their pants undone, and were stroking themselves while looking down on her.

Her eyes widened impossibly, but she still found herself unable to move. Her mind screamed but her mouth did not.

The guy in the white shirt smirked then, stepped forward, sank to his knees, slid her thong aside, and unceremoniously entered her in one stroke.

She did scream then.

A loud, protracted scream of terror that trailed off into a gibbering moan.

He had grabbed her hips and kept her in place, fully impaling her on his cock, not moving.

"Are you getting this?" he asked huskily.

"Yeah," the guy with his phone out responded.

"I told you she is a slut." he then continued, "Easy as can be. But you can't ask her directly." he said in mock seriousness. "No, you have to trick her into it. Though it's not much of a trick really, is it? You are not really that dumb, are you?"

She remained quiet, whimpering softly.

"Let's try this..."

He then pulled out and got up.

"Ok, you are free to go now. Do you want to go?" he asked, looking down on her.

Her mind heard the question. Her body apparently did not, for she remained frozen in place, face to the floor, ass in the air, hands behind her back.

"If you stay, we will fuck you ragged. Do you want to go?" he repeated.

She said nothing -- It was not her place to object. It was not in her power to object.

"Well, I guess that's consent, guys!" he said cheerfully.

He then sank back to his knees, and pushed his now wet cock against her ass.

"Open up, little slut. You are all mine now..." he growled as he slowly worked the head of his cock into her asshole.

She howled in pain then, all thoughts finally fully wiped from her mind.

"No, please, stop," she whispered. Words finally came to her. Words that she could finally speak out loud. Words they would understand...

"Too late for that now, little slut. I've won my bet, and my prize is filling up all your dirty little holes. You can beg, or plead, or scream, or whimper, but you are going to get fucked so hard till you can't think, talk, or walk. Now be a good anal whore and relax, or I'll just rape your asshole and you can deal with the damage later yourself."

Her mind blanked then. She let him in. She felt her asshole widen around his cock, till she was spread impossibly wide. He then pushed himself in to the hilt, her face grinding against the floor.

He paused then, and someone pulled up her hair.

"Open wide," and she did.

They fucked her back and forth while their friend filmed her.

And she was happy, of a sort?

Fulfilled, of a sort?

Very much confused, but also very, very full.

As they both came inside her, she let go of her resistance. They pulled off her clothes in this strange house, and she crawled on hands and feet to the next guy. He told her to lie down on her back, and she did as she was told. He stood over her, while she lay spreadeagled at his feet.