“Hey, Babe, I was thinking of having a few friends over for drinks.”

My girlfriend, Naoise, looks up from her phone. She gives me one of her killer smiles. Her green eyes sparkle.

“That sounds cool, Miss. We haven’t had a party of ages”

“Well, not really a party, just a few drinks,” I assure her. I pull off my blouse and let my skirt fall to the floor. “I’m just gonna take a shower.”

As the hot water cascades over my skin, I run my fingers over my nipples and between my legs in anticipation of what I’ve got planned.

Naoise spends the day of the party tidying the house, wanting it to look perfect for when I get home. She wants me to be pleased, wants me to be proud of her for getting the place looking tidy for my friends. She’s always worried about everything. She is a master's student while I am a Faculty professor, and she feels embarrassed at the financial disparity. I constantly try to reassure her that money isn’t important. She is all that is important.

It felt so risqué when we got together, and she moved in. I had been her professor, after all. She had to convince me that as a grad student, she was definitely old enough to make those decisions for herself. Still, I’m sure there was gossip about her hooking up with a woman twice her age. She just laughed when I pointed it out and said that in twenty-two years, she’d be two-thirds rather than half my age. Then she took me to bed, and we fucked each other’s brains out.

The guests are due at seven. As she moves around the room, rearranging the trinkets and clutter we’ve somehow acquired, I hand her a glass to help her relax. She’s never been able to handle her booze, and I know drinking this will take the edge off and help her relax, stop worrying, and go with the flow.

She’s not in the private group chat. She hasn't seen the messages and discussions. She doesn’t know I’ve told them all about her secret desires and darkest fantasies. They even know her safe word. The one she’s so proud that she has never had to use… yet.

I watch her greet my friends. A mix of men and women I’ve known for years, and I trust every one of them. She’s wearing a pretty little sundress that really shows off her legs. I deliberately made out it was just a casual affair. I didn’t want her favourite party frock getting ruined. I idly wonder if she can feel the energy in the room. Will she notice the hungry eyes and the stares of my friends following her around as she plays the part of the perfect hostess? The apartment is crowded, with almost a dozen people in a space we normally share just between ourselves.

And now, tonight, I’m giving her what she’d told me was her ultimate fantasy.

I watch, sipping my drink as finally, someone decides enough is enough and gives in to temptation. Maggie, almost six feet tall and thin as a rake, walks up to her and plucks the drink from her hand, places it on the table, and takes Naoise’s face in her hands. She presses her lips to Naoise’s mouth and kisses her a long, slow, smouldering kiss. I don’t think Naoise has ever met Maggie before. She probably doesn’t ever know Maggie’s name, and maybe it’s the drink, but I watch her kiss Maggie back. The kiss becomes more passionate. Tongues swirl and lick. A hush falls over the room. Everyone else watches them too. Naoise breaks the kiss for a desperate breath, swallows, looks Maggie in the eye, then plunges back in.

Sofie is next. She steps behind Naoise. She doesn’t interrupt, just slides her hands down Naoise’s sides, tracing the outline of her panties through the dress before sliding up and cupping her breasts. I think I can hear her moan into Maggie’s mouth as Sofie squeezes and brushes her nipples. Then more hands are on her, tugging on the straps of her dress. More hands slide the dress up, revealing her panties. Her kiss with Maggie is broken again, but this time, it is only so the others can drag the dress up over her head.

She's surrounded now, bodies blocking my view, but I can still hear her. I can hear the wet, slobbery kisses as she is passed from one to another. All these people she hardly knows yet here she is, kissing them all. I hear the little nervous sounds she makes as their hands caress her, touching her sensitive spots almost like someone told them where they were. I listen carefully, waiting to see if she’ll use her safe word. I’m taking a gamble here. It’s one thing to confess to a fantasy of being used as a fucktoy to a group of strangers. The reality is something quite different, and I’m ready to stop it all the moment she becomes overwhelmed and cries out her safe word.

She doesn’t, though. I see a flash of her body through a tangle of limbs. My friends surround her, feeding off her. I see them carry her off her feet and she lies sprawled on the sofa. They strip her. I circle around the edges of the crowd, seeing the tiny lace throng sail through the air. I hear a squelch as someone presses a finger, or more, inside her. She doesn’t seem the least bit hesitant. She welcomes their advances, her hips pressing up, accepting the fingers sinking inside. It’s as if I have ceased to exist for her. She appears so caught up in the moment.

I crane my head and watch as she tugs on a zipper and slides her hand inside. Jane arches her back and throws her head back as Naoise’s fingers work their magic. Around her, people move, positioning themselves to grab her attention. Her wrists are grabbed and guided under skirts or inside unzipped pairs of jeans.

I can still hear the dull beat of the background music, all but forgotten now. All ears are attuned to her. I listen to her unzip another pair of trousers and smirk as I hear her shuddering gasp when her fingers close around Jack’s rock-hard cock. The wet sounds Naoise’s mouth makes as her lips part tell me another hole is filled. I know Jack will make her wear her ankles like earrings later when he finally claims all her holes.

Around her, people move to occupy more of her attention. Her fingers are made to attend to the messes she has caused between our guest's thighs. More and more clothes are shed. Strap-ons appear from clutch bags and a line begins to form. Eventually Stuart rolls Naoise onto her front and settles in behind her. He rests a hand against the small of her back, pinning her down to the couch, before shoving the head of his cock into her needy depths.

She utters a low guttural wail; of need, of pleasure, of acceptance. She spends the night being passed from one guest to the next. She feels them empty into her willing body one after another. One or two at once, it doesn’t seem to matter. Down her throat, painting her insides, or trails of cum and juices smear down arms and thighs, until, finally, the last of them is satisfied.

The guests leave, drifting away. She doesn’t notice them go. The last, Neil, a burly man in his early sixties, is vigorously pounding her cum splattered pussy with his cock for possibly the third time. She lies on her back. Her legs are splayed. Neil withdraws his softening cock, and another cream pie oozes out of her onto the ruined green sofa.

She lies there, her trembling body thinking it is over. That’s when I finally approach her. After watching her be used, abused, and defiled for hours, it is finally my turn.

Without a word, I shed my dress. The black leather harness is strapped tight around my crotch. The purple girlcock is thrust out in front of me. I place my hands behind her knees and force them upwards, folding her, forcing her ankles up to her ears. I press my girlcock into her sore, battered body. Using the dregs of her juices and the spent cum dribbling out of her as lube, I claim her back.

I watch her eyes moisten, and the tears begin to fall as I slam into her. Telling her what a good girl she is, how I am so proud of her. I hold her close as I pound her. My arse goes in and out like a jackhammer as I wrench the noises out of her that she’d been making so eagerly with everyone else.

Afterwards, I carry her to the bathroom and let her lie in a warm, scented bubble bath. I kneel by the side of the bath and softly, repeatedly, gently stroke her hair. Finally, she turns to speak to me.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and I wrap my fingers around her hand and squeeze tightly.