“Can I top you up, Rain?” Scarlett asked, re-entering the room with a fresh bottle of Zinfandel in one hand.

“Oh, no thanks,” I replied with a bashful smile, as she sat down on the opposite end of our circle of chairs. I still had half of my first glass left, and much as I loved white Zinfandel, that’d probably be enough for me. Sir (or Tom, as the others knew him) and I were in the midst of a get-together with a few friends, including Ruth. Whereas everyone else was on their second drink already, and seemed pretty prepared to keep going for the rest of the night, I was only planning to have one to loosen me up a little, not being much of a party animal. (Not in that sense, anyway.)

“Rain was just about to tell us about this amazing TV show she’s been watching,” Melonie - the oldest member of the group by almost a decade - informed Scarlett.

The trainee teacher sat forwards in her seat. “Oh, yeah? Do tell. I’ve been looking for something new to watch.”

I grinned eagerly, always happy for a chance to talk about my biggest obsession since I binged Angel as a teenager. “It’s called ‘Standby’, and it’s, uh... it’s kind of a hard show to describe. You just kinda have to watch it. This is gonna sound so pretentious,” I laughed, “but it really is like a work of art - it can’t be explained, you have to make up your own mind about it. I promise it’s worth it, I’ve never been so engrossed in anything.”

“That’s true enough,” Sir - Tom, I mentally corrected myself, not wanting to let the honorific slip out of my mouth in front of our friends - snickered. “You should see how into it she gets. A bomb could go off next door and she wouldn’t notice.”

As the others chuckled, I caught his sly grin in my direction, and Ruth’s matching smirk across the circle. I blushed, averting my eyes as subtly as I could. Only the three of us knew what he was hinting at - how I got so fixated on my new favourite show, the pair of them could do anything to me and I wouldn’t notice a thing about it until afterwards. I’d invariably find myself at least half-naked at the end of an episode, often with Tom’s hand on my chest or Ruth’s head between my legs.

Thankfully, with Tom choosing to pose a more explosive hypothetical, our guests remained unaware of this - or any of the mind-warping mischief we three got up to. He knew the others through amateur theatre. The stunning Scarlett was my age, and was a year into teacher training at a primary school not far away. The more mature Mel was a large lady with raven-black hair and tits to die for (and the fact that I was having those thoughts unprompted was proof, if any were needed, that Sir’s straightbreaking of me had been an unqualified success). Kirsha was slightly younger, a skinny little slip of a college student who’d known Scarlett forever - they used to go to a theatre group as kids, as well.

“I’ve seen Standby,” Ruth remarked, after taking a big sip of her wine. “Rain’s hyping it up a bit, but it is pretty damn compelling. I’ve lost an hour or two to it, here and there.” She shot a wry smile in Tom’s direction. “It’s a good one to watch with people, too.”

I couldn’t hold back a small giggle - I could tell she was thinking about the couple of occasions where we’d sat down to watch the blank grey screen together, and found our hands down each other’s pants by the climax of the show. I took another sip of my drink to try and cool off from my erotic memories. Not a good idea to get horny in front of our oblivious friends...!

“Hey, speaking of great TV, have you seen the new Severance?” Kirsha piped up.

“Oh, I have, I fucking love that show,” Mel enthused, as she refilled her glass.

Tom shook his head. “I keep hearing how good that is, but I’ve never seen it. What’s it on?”

“Apple TV.”

“Ah, there’s the problem. I don’t have that streaming service.”

I blinked, shaking my head slightly as if something had come loose inside. Then I glanced at my half-full glass, and promptly necked it in one go. My earlier reticence seemed silly all of a sudden. I was at a party - I should act like it!

“You can get it through Amazon Prime now,” Kirsha was explaining, “they’re doing that for a bunch of streamers. Paramount Plus, as well.”

“Um, where’s the Zinfandel bottle?” I interrupted, glancing around the circle. Scarlett swiftly passed it over, and I rapidly refilled my glass and took a hearty swig, a big smile spreading across my face as I lowered it again. I felt really good all of a sudden - really floaty, and carefree. Tensions I didn’t know I had were loosening up, my body and brain relaxing. It was probably the booze. “Hey, why d’they call it white Zinfandel when it’s pink?” I tittered, staring at my drink as if the answer was within the rosé somewhere. “That doesn’t make sense.”

My eyes drifted up to see my companions exchanging amused glances. I didn’t know what they were all suddenly snickering about, but honestly, I didn’t much care. I didn’t much care about anything, really. I was having a good time, drinking with my friends, knowing the night was only just getting started and was sure to get even more fun.

As I gulped down the rest of my pink white wine, Mel reached over and handed me her glass. “Here, mate, give this a try. It’s really nice.”

Sparing the clear, fizzy liquid the briefest look, I shrugged and said, “OK,” and proceeded to take a big sip. It was stronger than I was used to - I coughed a little as it went down, burning my throat slightly. But I barely hesitated before knocking back the rest of it.

The moment I finished Mel’s drink, a smirking Scarlett handed me another, which I downed without even looking at it. It was a natural reflex, automatic and easy. When someone passes me a drink, I just have to drink it. I can’t imagine not drinking it.

“Why don’t we play a game?” Tom suggested, in a tone I might have recognised as his ‘evil scheming’ voice if I wasn’t hammered. I finished the mystery drink and let my arms fall limply to my sides, feeling pleasantly dazed, oblivious to the five pairs of eyes watching me.

“Oh yeah, I love a drinking game,” I heard Kirsha say.

“Are we sure she’s up for it?” Scarlett asked.

“Oh yeah, she’s fine,” my beloved owner assured her. “Besides, she loves Truth or Dare.”

I sat up straight at once, trying to appear more alert so I could join in the game. “Yess,” I slurred, “Truth or Dare! I am the best at that.”

“Well, we’re glad to hear you say that, babe,” Sir snickered, “because we’re going to play a special version, where only you do the truths and the dares. The rest of us are gonna take it in turns to choose, and ask you.”

“OK, sure!” I grinned. That sounded like fun. It’d mean I’d be doing a lot more work than any of them, but I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I was excited to get started.

“Ruth, why don’t you start us off?”

I swung my hazy head around to beam at my friend and fellow fucktoy, who smiled snidely back at me. “Truth, or dare?” she asked.

“Truth,” I said at once, confident that I’d picked the right option and that it was definitely my choice.

“What’s your name?”

Even in my inebriated state, I considered that a dumb question, and didn’t bother hiding it, snorting derisively. “Piss,” I replied. “Piss Jones, if you want my f-full name. You just wasted a go, babe!”

“Ah yeah, that was silly of me,” she sniggered.

“My turn, Piss,” Sir said authoritatively. As ever, I gravitated towards the sound of his voice, swivelling in my chair to stare adoringly at him. “Truth, or dare?”

“Truth,” I replied, because that was the natural choice for reasons I couldn’t even begin to interrogate.

“What’s my name?”

“Sir,” I announced.

“Correct, of course,” Sir said approvingly, his tone and his fond expression sending a warm pulse through me. I basked in the rightness of my answer and the praise of my owner. It vaguely occurred to me that I’d just called him Sir in front of Scarlett, Mel and Kirsha, which I’d wanted to avoid earlier - but now I couldn’t remember why I should care. His name was Sir, after all. That was who he was, and it was natural for me to call him that. Even though the world knew him as Tom Dexter, Sir was his real name, as sure as my name was Piss Jones.

“Who’d like to go next?” he asked our companions.

“Ooh, me, me,” Kirsha called out eagerly.

I grinned across at her. “Somebody’s keen,” I teased, fluttering my eyelashes at her. “Seizing the chance to make me do whatever you want, huh...?”

Her eyes went wide, and she spluttered with nervous laughter. “I - er, well, um...”

After a few seconds it became clear that Kirsha was too caught off-guard by my teasing to take her turn, so Mel cut in with, “I dare you to flash us.”

I couldn’t see any reason not to, so I happily pulled up the front of my shirt. Even as my friends smiled appreciatively at the view, I realised I was still wearing a bra, which didn’t really seem in the spirit of the dare. Deftly undoing the clasp with the hand that wasn’t holding up my top, I let my bra drop to the floor.

Tipsy as I was, I probably left my boobs on show a few seconds too long to call it a ‘flash’. In my defence, I was really enjoying the lustful looks I was getting from my gorgeous friends. “That was a fun one,” I tittered, belatedly covering my tits.

“Well if you liked that one, I dare you to flash your arse,” Ruth sniggered.

Without hesitation, I jumped to my feet, spun around, and yanked my trousers and knickers down in one move, bending over and brandishing my bare bum at my delighted friends, who responded with cheers and whoops of approval. One of them even gave me a spirited slap, and I giggled and jiggled my buttocks in response.

Straightening up at last, I pulled my trousers up again and sat back down, my head spinning (not unpleasantly). “Enjoying the game?” Sir asked with a fond smile.

“I’m having the best time, Sir,” I replied fervently, swaying in my seat slightly. It was true - I couldn’t remember enjoying a game of Truth or Dare so much. I really liked being the only one doing the truths and the dares, responding to whatever the others said. I hadn’t even noticed that they weren’t asking me to pick any more, just skipping straight to their commands. “We should always play it this way from now on,” I told him.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” he chuckled. “I think we’re all enjoying playing this version, aren’t we?”

“Speak for yourself, I haven’t had a turn yet,” Scarlett spoke up, getting to her feet and crossing the circle. Taken as I was with her delicate features and her golden locks, I didn’t register her picking up the half-full Zinfandel bottle, until she held it out to me. “I dare you to finish this,” she said with a wicked smile.

I snorted, reaching out and taking the bottle. “I was probably gonna do that anyway...!”

“Great.” She gave me what I thought of as an encouraging look. “Bottoms up, then.”

“She just did bottoms up,” Melonie quipped, getting a laugh out of everyone.

Unscrewing the cap, I was about to pour some of the wine into my empty glass (one of them, anyway), but then I decided it’d just be quicker to drink it straight from the bottle.

“I dare you to suck that like it’s a dick,” Mel said just as I swallowed the last of the rosé. Since my mouth was conveniently still wrapped around the neck of the bottle, I got started at once, bobbing my head along the glass duct with almost as much zeal as if it were one of Sir’s cocks, spurred on by more delighted cries from the others.

“OK, Piss, you can stop now,” Sir said softly, putting his hand on my shoulder. As ever, my will yielded to his, and I drew the bottle out from between my lips and let him take it from me, smiling dazedly at him.

“Truth time.” Still gripping my shoulder, he turned me slightly to face back out to the circle, and the four faces staring eagerly back at me. “Which of these lovely ladies are you most attracted to?”

“Whoa. That’s a tough one,” I admitted. “I mean, they’re all so sexy, I really don’t know... I mean, if I have to choose, probably Ruth? But that’s just because I know her best, and we’ve fucked so many times. But honestly, they’re all pretty much equal. They’re all fucking gorgeous... I mean, Scarlett’s like a porcelain doll come to life, I could stare at her all day long. I could probably make myself cum just looking at her, she’s that stunning... And I want to bury my face in Mel’s tits and never come back out. Which I might not, they’re so big I could get lost in them! And oh my God, Kirsha’s skin... It’s so rich, it’s delicious, I just wanna lick her all over.”

With my inhibitions nonexistent at this point, what would’ve been an internal monologue was decidedly external. The more I raved about how hot my friends were, the harder it would’ve been to stop - if I were trying to stop. I had no restraint, no shame, no notion of holding back my words, my filter forgotten. Honestly, I probably would’ve kept going for a good half an hour had Sir not abruptly covered my babbling mouth with his hand, squeezing it shut. I relaxed into his grasp, consumed by the feeling of him, barely noticing the other women, who all looked equal parts embarrassed, pleased and aroused by my effusive, wanton praise.

As Sir uncovered my mouth, Kirsha called out, “I dare you to say, ‘Your wish is my command’, whenever we give you a dare.”

“Your wish is my command,” I replied, shooting her a flirtatious smile.

“I dare you to make out with Scarlett,” she added, grinning mischievously.

I raised my eyebrows excitedly, my head whipping around to stare at Scarlett. She blushed, but sat forwards in her chair and nodded eagerly. “Your wish is my command,” I said again, even more wholeheartedly.

Getting up from my chair, I staggered across the circle, unsteady on my feet from all the booze, and clambered onto Scarlett’s lap, clumsily straddling her. She gazed up at me, thunderstruck. “Hey, beautiful,” I smiled, delving my hands into her gorgeous golden hair. “I’ve wanted to do this all night.”

Then I planted my lips on hers, and we both sank into a passionate kiss, forcing our faces together more insistently every moment. We couldn’t get enough of each other. We were insatiably hungry for one another. Our mouths collided from all directions, never parting for more than a split second, as if we thought we’d starve if we were separated. The rest of the world vanished - all that mattered to each of us was the other girl, and her tender, agile lips.

At least, until Melonie interrupted us with, “You guys are giving me FOMO! Piss, since you love ’em so much, I dare you to come grope my tits.”

I reluctantly pulled away from Scarlett, who whined disappointedly as I climbed off her. “Your wish is my command,” I breathed in Mel’s direction, before shooting an apologetic smile at my makeout partner. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m sure we’ll have more fun later.” Then, as I ambled towards my next lucky lady, I declared to the room in my most sultry voice, “There’s plenty of Piss to go round.”

I wasn’t sure why that comment got the uproarious laughter that it did - it was meant to be sexy, not comedic. But hey, I am very silly, so maybe the sexy got lost in translation because of that. I enjoyed the attention nonetheless, as I circled around the back of Mel’s chair and crouched down behind her. I began to reach around her, sliding my arms along her loose white T-shirt, my fingertips grazing its surface above her pendulous boobs.

“Fuck, they’re even bigger up close,” I murmured, getting a snort of mirth from Mel. “I think I need two hands per tit!”

“Don’t hold back, sweetie,” she encouraged me, chuckling lightly. As if I even know what ‘holding back’ meant at this point.

My fingers sank into the soft material of her shirt, sank into the soft flesh of her breasts. She let out a euphoric gasp and lolled back in her chair as I began to possessively grope her. My thumbs found her erect sizeable nipples, rubbing them through the layer of cotton. Burying my face in her silky black hair, I nuzzled and kissed the back of her neck, revelling in her writhing and moaning.

Cocking my head to one side as I continued to caress my lips along her nape, I took a look at our circle of spectators, all of whom were absorbed in the scene. Sir and Ruth were leaning back in their chairs with knowing grins on their face - to them, my behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary, but no less enjoyable for it. Less familiar with my wild ways, Scarlett was squirming in her seat, staring almost unblinkingly at the tableau before her, her hands drifting up seemingly of their own volition to feel up her own chest, as if in sympathy with Mel. Kirsha, too, was having a hard time hiding how horny she was getting, repeatedly crossing and uncrossing her legs, one hand pawing at her crotch through her black jeans, the other pressed over her mouth as if to contain an eruption of sound.

Grinning with satisfaction at the audience response, I returned my attention to the magnificently-endowed MILF in my clutches. It was past time I felt those endowments a little more vividly, I mused, and no sooner had the thought crossed my impulsive mind than I was yanking up her shirt and grabbing hold of her bare breasts, squeezing all the more insistently. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I wanted to - and I decidedly didn’t.

“No wonder they call you Melonie,” I purred in her ear. “You do have such big, tasty melons. They’re absolutely mouthwatering...”

She barked with laughter between aroused noises. “Dare ya to have a taste,” she breathed out.

“Ohh, your wish is my command,” I replied vehemently. Giving her nipple a last firm stroke with my index finger, I relinquished my grip and sprang to my feet again. Wasting no time, I raced back around her chair, dropped to one knee again, and shoved my agape mouth onto her right boob - which was so big, it barely fit. I began to hungrily suck, my lips puckering around her malleable flesh, my tongue rapaciously lapping her creamy skin. My right hand clapped onto her left tit and resumed groping in earnest.

I could hear her whimpers and cries at close range. I could feel her writhing beneath me. I sensed the pleasure permeating every inch of her. And I felt an unfamiliar sense of power, of dominance, from making someone so helpless. I could see why Sir liked brainwashing people so much. I began to run my hand down across her stomach, gradually approaching the hem of her jeans with every intention of delving inside, while at the same time catching her nipple between my teeth, smiling at the squeak she made.

“OK, it’s my turn now,” I heard Ruth blurt suddenly.

“W-wait, noo!” Mel protested, as I pulled away from her majestic melons and gazed over at my longtime friend-with-benefits. “I was really getting off to that, whyy?!”

“Everyone’s been hogging my toy,” Ruth replied with a smirk. “I’ve been patient, but it’s definitely my go. Besides, I think we’ll all wanna see this.” She gave me an imperious look. “Piss, get over here and give me a lapdance.”

“You didn’t say ‘dare you’,” I sniggered, but I hauled myself to my feet and stumbled over anyway. The compulsion to obey an order was too strong, and besides, I kinda did want to dance. This was a party, after all!

A song began blaring from across the room - ‘Brutal Hearts’, by Bedouin Soundclash, one of the tracks on Sir’s kink-themed playlist. (I’d heard a cover by Dove Cameron before, but I wasn’t familiar with the original until he first played it for me). Glancing round, I saw him holding up his phone. The music from its speakers was a little tinny, but good enough for my purposes.

I began to sway my hips in time to the song, my movements more fluid and graceful than before - at least in my mind. I was hardly an expert lapdancer, but I made up for it with sheer enthusiasm, launching into a slow, seductive routine right in front of Ruth. The approving noises I got from her, and from the rest of my audience, showed they had no problem with my lack of experience.

Spinning around, I arched my back and bounced my behind at my best friend, smiling salaciously at her over my shoulder as I mouthed along to the words of the singer: “Uuuuuuuuse me...” Even at the odd angle, I could see her blushing hard, biting her lip, her eyes roving over me. She may have been a little flustered, but I wasn’t remotely embarrassed. Of course I wasn’t. If I hadn’t had any reservations about baring my bum to the whole room before, I was hardly going to complain about shaking it in Ruth’s face now, was I?

I was even still dressed at the moment - though it immediately occurred to me that I should do something about that. Straightening, I seized the bottom of my shirt and slowly inched it up my torso, eventually pulling it off over my head and flinging it aside. The song ended as I did so - it wasn’t a long track, to be fair, though its tempo was fairly sedate - and the playlist moved onto something a little faster-paced. I sped up my dancing in response, confidently showing off my half-naked body to my gathered friends, spinning and swaying and flicking my head and waving my bare flesh before them.

There were more cheers and cries, whoops and wolf-whistles, throughout my performance, as all the onlookers showed their appreciation. I smiled fondly at Ruth as I leaned down and waggled my exposed tits at her. It was sweet of her, I thought, to pick an activity everyone could enjoy!

Soon enough, my dancing seemed to spur them out of their seats, as one by one Ruth, Scarlett and Kirsha got up and joined me on what had become the dance floor. Each of them lingered for a little while, dancing a little way to the side of me while still watching my gyrations and undulations, before inevitably drawing in close, arms encircling me, lightly running their hands over my bare flesh, fondling my denim-clad butt.

Sir stood, too, but largely kept to the sidelines, a contented spectator to his toy’s shamelessness, filming clips of me on his phone from time to time even as it kept blasting out sexy beats. Mel was the only one who stayed in her chair throughout, her movement limited by chronic joint pain in her legs, but she was clearly enjoying the show too. Her shirt was still tucked up under her neck, and she’d been playing with her tits since pretty much the second I stopped, her eyes fixed on me.

I soaked up all the attention and channelled it into the dance, running my hands through my hair and caressing down over my chest, my head tilting back, my eyelids fluttering. I felt so fucking sexy. I was having so much fun. I was such a dumb, horny, happy party girl.

“Keep dancing, but I dare you to stick your tongue out and roll your eyes as far as they’ll go.”

“Your wish is my command,” I sighed rapturously, not even knowing whose wish I was responding to. I really didn’t care, either. It sounded fun, and hot, so I was going to do it. I opened my mouth wide and let my tongue dangle down my chin, beads of drool already starting to form on the tip, ready to tumble onto my nude torso. My already misty, aimless eyes didn’t take a lot of persuading to roll up into the inviting darkness inside my skull.

I kept going with my improvised, amateur, but clearly very well-received routine, now blind to my audience, whose laughs and cries continued unfalteringly. I could imagine how stupid I looked, performing a sexy dance with the face of a brainless zombie. I couldn’t help laughing at myself, which came out of my gaping mouth as moronic ‘hurr hurr hurr’ grunts that only made me laugh harder.

As ‘Bathsheba and Him’ by Bastille ended, I paused briefly in preparation for the next tune, only for a voice to draw my attention. “Hey, Pissy.” Fetching my eyes back from the void north of my brain, I glanced across at Kirsha, who was sprawled back in her chair with her legs spread wide, giving me an unmistakeable ‘come-hither’ stare. “Gimme a blowjob.”

I giggled incredulously. “S-silly, you - you don’t have a di-”

“Pretend,” she said firmly, a self-assured smile on her pretty face. She certainly seemed to have recovered from her earlier fluster, and then some.

With a nonchalant shrug and a confident smile of my own, I dropped to my knees and began to crawl towards her, my bare boobs swinging below me. Nestling between her legs, I brought my face to bear upon the crotch of her dark jeans. Then, locking eyes with her, I shaped my mouth into a perfect O, and began to bob my head back and forth, making the most realistic sucking sounds that I could.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhaled, staring down at me elatedly. “That’s so fucking hot...”

The corners of my mouth twitched upwards, but I still held it wide open, sliding it up and down the imaginary shaft, poking out my tongue to lick along its length. I maintained eye contact with Kirsha, except for when I allowed them to flutter shut momentarily, as if overcome with pleasure from the mimed oral. I was trying to put in as authentic a performance as possible, and it certainly seemed to be working for Kirsha.

And admittedly, it was working for me, too. It wasn’t long before I started to forget there wasn’t really a dick in my mouth - by reacting as if there was, I was tricking my impressionable brain into believing I really was sucking Kirsha off. When I pushed my tongue into the inside of my cheeks to make them bulge, even I felt like there was actually a cock ploughing into them.

God, I was such a malleable, gullible suckdoll. So easily led, so easily convinced and controlled by cock - even imaginary cock... Fuck, that made me wet.

Kirsha seemed to find my performance convincing too, judging by her delighted gasps and moans, and her enraptured gaze. Planting a hand on top of my head, she began to thrust her hips as if to fuck my face harder, the coarse black denim of her jeans brushing my lips. I started to wonder if I could make her cum just from doing this, without even making physical contact with her. Judging by the look on her face, it didn’t feel like such an absurd idea - she seemed pretty close already...

I didn’t get a chance to find out, sadly, as she suddenly grasped my hair tightly and pulled my head back. I made sure to gasp for air as I slid ‘off’ her, and then gave her a dreamy smile. Grinning lecherously, she poked my face a few times with her spare hand, prodding my cheeks, nose and forehead with an insistent index finger. I spluttered, giggled and wriggled, raising my arms as if to defend myself without actually blocking her at all, my hands hovering just below my chin.

She finally let me get back up to my feet, at which point Sir strolled over and handed me a glass of dark red, fizzy liquid. As I swigged the fruity cider, he matter-of-factly pulled my trousers and panties down. “Do some more dancing, my doll,” he told me casually, giving my right butt cheek a quick squeeze.

“Yes, Sir,” I simpered, already starting to sway and swirl in place as he sauntered away again. Kicking the last of my clothes off my ankles, I began slowly turning on the spot, rolling my hips and twirling my arms to ‘The Feminine Urge’ by The Last Dinner Party. I made the most of my arse being on show, giving it a provocative wave at each onlooker. They all seemed riveted, none of them prepared to look away from me for a second, even when I occasionally paused to take another big sip of my latest drink.

“Look at Piss go, girls,” Sir enthused. “She’s such a good performer, isn’t she? Such a good little wind-up toy, dancing to our tunes, putting on a show for us...”

“She’s really something, yeah,” Scarlett sighed.

“Mmm,” Mel murmured. “We should say, thanks for bringing the entertainment, Tom. She’s so good...”

I beamed as I continued to cavort before them. I was the entertainment. I was their party performer, not their guest - just a hired dancer, there to take off my clothes and prance around and show off my bare tits and ass and be entertaining. And it was so much fun.

“You’re more than welcome,” Sir said warmly. He was slowly walking around the outside of the circle, behind each of our friends as they kept watching my routine. “I wanted you all to enjoy her as much as I do. Isn’t she gorgeous? Doesn’t she have such a hot little body?”

“Hell yeah,” Kirsha all but moaned. As I pivoted past her, I happened to notice she had her hand formed into a circle between her thighs, jerking back and forth as if stroking along the length of an invisible shaft. I let out a little snort - she must’ve been even more into my pretend blowjob than I realised if she was still playing with her phantom penis. Each to their own, I guessed.

“And doesn’t she know just how to move that body?” Sir continued. “Every move, every spin and sway, every wiggle and jiggle, captivates you so completely, doesn’t it?” More mutters and murmurs of agreement from the audience. “That’s right. She’s so hot. So enthralling. So spellbinding. You can’t take your eyes off her.”

That was true enough - four pairs of eyes had been firmly locked onto me since I’d resumed dancing, barely blinking. Mind you, I noticed they were getting a little hazier in spite of their intent staring, eyelids starting to droop, heads and shoulders slumping. I didn’t think much about what this must mean yet - all that mattered was that they were still watching me, enjoying me, finding me entertaining.

“You can’t think of anything but her. She’s enchanting you, entrancing you, washing away all other thoughts in your minds... All you can do is watch her, and let your bodies react to her however you like, and touch yourselves however you want to the sight of the pretty, dancing, naked toy in front of you...”

At first, I didn’t really understand what Sir was doing with the other girls. I was just a dumb party girl, after all, just a tipsy wind-up toy, and I was having such a good time, drinking and dancing and showing off my sexy naked body to my captivated audience.

Then, suddenly, as I glimpsed their glazed expressions again, everything clicked into place in my slow brain. He was hypnotising them. He was using me to hypnotise them. He was using my nude, dancing form as a focus to drain away their willpower, their thoughts, their awareness... Filling their minds with me, pouring Piss into their heads and washing their brains clean, reducing them to horny playthings under his control - just like me.

It was so fucking hot. They all looked so helplessly horny, so consumed with lust. Kirsha was ardently stroking her imaginary cock, her eyes hooded, her mouth twisted into a lecherous smirk. Mel was helping herself to handfuls of her own heaving melons, a moronic, slightly cross-eyed grin on her face. Scarlett was squirming in her seat, desire and desperation clouding her delicate face, her fingers frantically fiddling down the front of her jeans. And Ruth had slid off her chair and onto her knees, her expression dazedly delighted, her glassy eyes magnetised to my undulating curves, her drooling tongue hanging out of her gaping mouth.

Fuck, I was so wet at the sight of them. And at the idea that Sir could use me to mesmerise others, that I was now an instrument for him to entice, entrap and entrance other women. That turned me on something crazy. And it made me feel powerful, too. I had power, clearly - power over these women who were so enthralled by the sight of me, whose minds were melted by how aroused I was making them. It was power I would only wield for Sir, of course, but that was how I liked it.

Speaking of whom, he’d stopped talking his newest toys into trance for a moment and was coming up behind me, moving my chair into the centre of the circle. “Piss, why don’t you give them a real show?” he suggested with a smirk.

I didn’t need to ask what he meant - I was already thinking about it. “Yes, Sir,” I said excitedly, and promptly plonked my arse down on the seat, my legs spread wide. With one hand planted on my thigh as if to brace myself, the other began to caress my slick snatch to the music still playing from my owner’s phone.

The other girls seemed even more engrossed than before, their eyes drawn to my moving hand. “That’s right, ladies,” Sir encouraged them, “watch her touch herself. Watch her rub herself. Watch her play with her hot, wet little pussy, her fingers spiralling around and around and around...”

I grinned wickedly, catching onto his strategy and making my spiral motions more obvious. Of course that’d work on them. They were all as susceptible to spirals as I was, just as we were all equally powerless for pussy.

It was this thought, and my momentary confusion at how I knew that, that placed the final piece of the puzzle in my slow brain. Obviously I knew Ruth was one of Sir’s frequent fucktoys, but it was by no means the first rodeo for any of the others, either. I’d completely forgotten that Melonie, Scarlett and Kirsha were all Sir’s longtime hypnosubs, too, for even longer than me - although their sessions with him were far less frequent. As his live-in sex slave, I’d undoubtedly spent more of my time under his control by now, but their brainwashing predated mine by almost a year.

As I mentioned earlier, the trio all did amateur theatre with Sir. Apparently, at an after-party for one of their productions, he hypnotised a bunch of cast and crew for fun, having them act out SFW, stage show-style suggestions. Over the next few weeks, the three of them slid into his DMs wanting to be brainwashed on a more regular basis, much like Ruth and I did after our first session. No wonder they were sinking so easily under his control now - Scarlett, Mel and Kirsha had as much experience being beguiled and bewitched by him as we did. They were just as kinky as us, and just as mindfucked.

Silly of me to forget that, really. But then I am very silly.

“So nearly gone, now, my good girls,” Sir purred, standing between Scarlett and Kirsha, cradling each of their heavy heads with his outstretched hands. “So captivated, so consumed, by those spiralling fingers...”

I grunted with ardour, and with glee. For once, I wasn’t powerless for pussy - they were all powerless for mine. Not gonna lie, that felt pretty good.

“And when she slips inside, your minds can switch off completely, and you can drop down into a deep sleep. And you can keep touching yourselves, and let the arousal bring you deeper, because just as being hypnotised makes you horny, being horny makes you hypnotised...”

“Being hypnotised makes me horny,” Mel muttered.

“Being horny makes me h-hypnotised,” Scarlett stammered, as if replying to her.

Grinning up at Sir, I drew it out for just a few more seconds, rubbing more vigorously than ever, fingertips circling my clit like a cyclone. Then I extended my middle finger, hooked it around the edge of my entrance, and thrust it inside, spearing myself deeply.

Ruth instantly slumped on her knees with her head nodding forwards, drool streaming from her dangling tongue and down her shirt. Mel went equally limp, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her limbs hanging loosely at her sides, her chin coming to rest on her ample chest. Scarlett went eerily still and silent, like a real porcelain doll moulded in that specific shape, her glassy eyes fluttering shut, a faintly perplexed expression fixed on her pretty face. And Kirsha sagged in her seat, her head lolling back, her eyes rolling into her skull, soft moans emanating from her gaping mouth - she’d been reduced to a horny, helpless zombie.

“Good girls. Sleeping deeply, dropping down deeper and deeper, sinking into a wonderful warm, dark, empty space... And you can just keep stroking yourselves deeper, further and further into blank, obedient bliss, edging your minds away for me. And stop paying attention to anything I say, until I say your names again.”

I stared in awe at the hypnotised women. It wasn’t often I got to be on this side - to watch and enjoy as others got entranced. I eagerly admired their crumpled bodies, their slack faces, their still-moving hands intently groping and caressing them. It was awesome.

Fuck, everything about this was awesome. I couldn’t remember ever being happier. I felt so happy and horny, so self-assured and sexy, so drunk and dazed. I stayed sitting there in the centre of the room and kept fingerfucking my slutty pussy for all to see, even if only Sir was left to see me now. (It wasn’t like masturbating for his viewing pleasure was anything new to me.)

Sir approached me, putting his arm around my shoulders and cradling my head against his torso. “Good toy,” he said fondly, stroking my hair. “You did such a good job, being my entrancing Trojan horse.”

Preening proudly, I gave him a whinnying sound, which made him laugh. “Thank you, Sir,” I sighed, nuzzling into him.

He let me brace against him as I continued ploughing my digits into my depths, driving myself closer and closer to the brink. I wondered if this was what being high felt like. Maybe I could score some weed from Mel later, when Sir let her wake up, and find out for myself. Yeah, that felt like a good idea...

“Count down to cum, doll,” he commanded, patting me on the head and stepping away.

I gasped ecstatically - he was going to let me cum! I must’ve really pleased him. And I was so close already, I was sure I could get there before he had one of his trademark changes of heart.

“F-five,” I grunted, thrusting my hand faster and faster. “Four. Three-eee...” My fingers reached deep enough to tickle my uterus, bringing me rocketing right to the edge. “Two -”

“Piss, off.”

And reality hit me like a bucket of cold water - rainwater, specifically - as I became suddenly, crushingly aware of everything I’d done over the last hour. I gaped up at him, utterly mortified at my memories of the night so far - the dares, the drinking, the dancing, the dumb shit I’d said and done while in that impulsive mindset... It all hit me at once.

And so did the vast quantities of booze I’d imbibed, making me sway a little in my chair. I wasn’t Piss any more, but I was definitely still pissed. I needed both hands to hold my swimming head steady, but one of them was very busy. Even as I felt myself engulfed in a drunken, humiliated haze, bowing my head to avoid Sir’s smug sneer, I kept compulsively diddling myself as if my hands had a mind of their own, frantically working myself up to the promised climax, clenching around my fingers, my legs jerking and spasming...

“One,” I squeaked out.

“Rain drops.”

“Hwhaaaa-Raaindrops,” I moaned, as my brain burst like a bubble and my body collapsed in my chair. “R-Rain dro-drohh-dropsss...” My hand fell slack and still against my inner thigh, but a word from Sir had it rubbing intently once more, fucking my mind away further and further, chasing that ruined orgasm into the darkness as it kept on dancing just out of my reach.

Ruth, Scarlett, Melonie, Kirsha and I continued our compulsive, mind-controlled circlejerk, edging ourselves deeper and deeper into trance, Sir’s smooth, melodious voice hastening our descent all the more. Though I’d already fallen far enough not to retain a crumb of consciousness, on some level I still knew one thing for certain.

The night had just begun.