by J Beresford
Kyra contemplates for a moment. “I’m not sure. I don’t quite want to think about it right now,” she says softly, but smiles as Jonathan looks at her, letting him know that she isn’t trying to avoid him talking more to her.
“How about I go and order a taxi into town and we can make our way back from there?” he says to change the tone of the conversation.
“I’d like that a lot,” she replies, beaming at him.
“Great, we can get something to eat too. I’ll go to the reception and see when one is available while you can get ready and meet me there.”
Kyra cheerily smiles at him before he makes his way out of the room. After getting herself changed and ready to leave, she picks up her envelope and takes out the note inside while passing a bin. Instinctively she passes it over the bin, yet something inside her seems to freeze every muscle. Rooted to the spot, she glances at the piece of paper loosely held between her delicate fingers. A second passes, then a minute. So many thoughts buzz through her head. Without a sound, she puts the note back into the envelope with her cheque and leaves the room.
The End
The Slumber Party
As gentle as snow, as smooth as silk, the delicate touch of feminine fingertips can be heaven and hell all at once. This was something Sophie was to find out, and something she would never forget.
It had begun as nothing more than a sleepover between friends, a way of getting to know the girls in her class a little more. Everything had been set up perfectly after days of preparation; her mother was out for the night, her stepfather and stepbrother would be watching a football match with their own friends downstairs, leaving the girls to their own devices upstairs, the perfect night. She could barely contain her excitement all week, even as she invited her newly acquired friends, her stomach seemed to flutter at each confirmation.
Did they like her? Did they want to be around her? Would they talk behind her back about her? All these questions had spun into a web of anxiety since being the newcomer, hopefully this would change everything. Once she had asked three of the girls she had befriended, six more seemed to know in an instant, as if word had spread like wildfire; the best part was that they all wanted to come. She was almost giddy with happiness.
Once the evening came, all the thoughts of the topics they would chat about, the games they would play, all were clouded by the feelings of apprehension; perhaps it was a mistake? Perhaps she’d make a fool out of herself and lose these new friends? As soon as the doorbell rang in the early hours of the night, she wanted to hide away, yet the cushioned patter of footsteps up the stairs let Sophie know that amid the raucous sounds of the men downstairs, her stepfather had answered the door. Having already changed into her pink pyjamas, Sophie felt smaller and more childish than ever before, and feared the girls were ready to judge her.
After nervous greetings and enthusiastic introductions, Sophie was stunned and overjoyed by how many had turned up. Eight girls in total: she’d have been happy enough if just two wanted to spend the night at her house. While she had done her best to tidy up the overlarge room, the presence of so many stuffed animals and childhood trinkets seemed to spring into vision far more vividly than when she was alone in her comforting haven. But this, along with the wall to wall pink decorations and boy band posters, didn’t faze any of her jovial guests.
Once Sophie explained that the guys downstairs wouldn’t be interrupting them, the rest of the girls agreed to change into their sleepover attire, though she hadn’t expected them to do so right there in front of her. She watched in silence as so much smooth, bare skin was displayed to her, trying not to let her eyes linger on the curves being presented to her in a series of undressing which seemed to last longer than usual. Those slender bodies in a tangle of clothes did little to excite her, as she was more interested in the masculine, sculpted array of men which adorned her room in posters. What she could not deny, however, was the sensuality which swept the room as these young, attractive girls were in stages of undress before her own eyes, a sight which was undeniably tantalising even to Sophie.
Once they were all dressed in their nightwear, half the girls sat on the cream carpeted floor while Sophie and the rest sat on her sizeable bed. The chat started innocently enough, with talk of music, boys and crushes dominating the early night, though it took little time for things to progress to a different nature. Sexual experiences was a topic Sophie had hoped wouldn’t spring up, yet when the girl’s took turns detailing all the encounters they have had, it made her even more embarrassed to confess that she had none to speak of. Once she confessed this fact, she was relieved to hear that they didn’t think it was embarrassing at all. The group simply moved on to the next topic of conversation, and it was like a weight off of her chest.
It was when the girls all agreed on playing truth or dare that the atmosphere started to turn, that the girls around her seemed to change in behaviour slightly. All of the truths were of a sexually revealing nature, depicting how they masturbate and what they think of when they do, yet not wanting to be a spoil sport, Sophie played along too. The dares themselves were a different matter, yet while she didn’t object, she had no intention of acting out a dare over telling a truth; every dare involved the girls touching themselves or fondling themselves in some way. The first was nothing to be concerned about, simply the act of showing her breasts to the group, though as things progressed, the dares all involved undressing, to the point where Sophie was the only girl remaining fully clothed. Her suggestion to play another game was rejected by everyone, so she played along still, uncomfortable, though not wishing to spoil the wonderful state of acceptance she now found herself in.
Soon it was her turn once again, with all eyes on her, she again asked for truth, though this time the others wouldn’t allow it. Putting up no protest, Sophie agreed to take a dare, so long as it wouldn’t involve getting undressed. Thankfully, the other girls all nodded before daring her to kiss the girl to her right. With trepidation, she turned to the girl, feeling suddenly weak as the girl ordered her to close her eyes, which she did.
That soft, warm, gentle feeling of lips pressing to hers, a gentleness that was so unmistakeably human, sent Sophie to another world as her head buzzed and the blood rushed to her ears, a static hum to block out reality. With the warm air exhaled against her cheek and the gentle suction of their locked lips, Sophie did not notice the other girls crowding around her, ready to play with what they came for, to play with Sophie herself.
With such a gentle, slender looking build, Sophie always gave these girls the impression of such a submissive girl. She was someone who, since moving to the school, they were both lusting for and jealous of. Sophie was oblivious that all the guys had been interested in her, the rest of the girls were not so blind. While they were happy to befriend this sweet, pretty girl, they wanted to make sure they took their frustrations out on her first in the way they loved and the way Sophie would also desire, whether she admitted it or not.
Sophie slowly parted the sweet, tender kiss, before opening her eyes to the site of eight girls crowded around her; before she could utter a single word however, they pounced like ravenous wolves. Outnumbered and overpowered, Sophie was helpless as they each pinned a limb down.
One of them pressed her hand over Sophie’s mouth to keep her quiet while the other girls wasted no time in feeling every curve, letting the fabric run more tightly into ever delicate fold of her body. The whispers in her ear set her mind even more alight than the touches to her helpless body: whispers of how they had long craved to touch her like this, how they could tell how much Sophie truly longed for their attention in this way. All the while, Sophie could hear the ruckus of the men downstairs, knowing that she could not make a sound, could not scream out for help. Somehow this knowledge did nothing to cease the heat which filled her as the countless palms and fingertips slid hungrily over her. Trapped helplessly within a gang of ravenous girls, all Sophie could do was try her best to hold back whatever they wishe
d to bring out of her.
She gasped loudly and nearly spoke out as fingers curled around her pink vest top, but a firm kiss on her lips muffled the sound before another voice drifted to her ears, reminding her that she needed to keep quiet. Every inch of flesh that was uncovered was met by the attention of nails softly tracing along, slightly tickling but soothing at the same time. With so many hands massaging her, so many fingertips teasing her, she could not keep track of the sensations. From the light kisses on her neck to the steady rubbing between her thighs, all she knew was the pleasure encasing her. No matter how much Sophie tried to fight it, the attention on her was too much to keep at bay. Her sighs, moans and movements to every intimate touch and delicate stroke let the group know she was being overcome. The way the girls were stroking the tips of her stiff nipples over the vest top, making their palms barely rub over it so that the cotton brushed slightly against her tender peaks, made Sophie realise they weren’t just trying to molest her. No, they wanted to seduce her completely.
Even once the top was removed, they clawed and groped at her breasts, yet still did not give her nipples the pinch she was beginning to crave. Her body began to rock from the sensations, teased in every area, barely noticing that her pink pyjama bottoms were slowly being slid down, her arousal more evident from that sleek, wet mound.
They kept her held firmly even as their fingers worked to her sex, teasing that plump, sensitive flower. It was as if the sight of her shaved, glistening pussy beckoned them more, as instantly they attacked her body more fiercely, as if craving her reactions. Their fingers clutched her breasts, pinching her nipples while masturbating her fiercely. Sophie was unable to focus on any single touch, the torrent of sensations on her now naked body were overwhelming, cruelly held back from moving her own arms and legs while she writhed. She felt herself getting close, preparing herself to do all she could to not cry out once she came; however, like a light being turned off, the moment was halted as their fingers withdrew. Before Sophie could even protest, a hand once again found her mouth before the fingertips went back to work.
Eighty fingertips trailed and teased along Sophie’s hot, aroused body. Eighty digits pressed to her delicate flesh, to her tender peaks, numbing her thoughts with unwavering desire, each of them seeking the most sensitive areas of her, seeking the spots which make her shudder. Every touch and every stroke intended to bring the most pronounced reactions from her, to make her fall deeper. They seemed to succeed with every motion. The feeling of so much bare, soft, feminine skin pressing around her had begun to affect her in a way she never had imagined; the soft bulge of breasts against her and every warm curve gliding along her, all caused a rush of eroticism to sweep the helpless girl.
The gang had to hold Sophie down strongly as they brought her close once again and stopped, giving her only a second’s rest before starting again. Repeatedly Sophie was brought achingly close, driven to despair each time before she realised just how powerless she was. Helpless to stop the constant onslaught upon her overly sensitive body, each time she was fondled to the edge, it brought a new height of pleasure throughout her, making her sex even more sensitive than before. The time it took to get her close lessened until it was merely seconds before her hips rose in anticipation for a climax which never came. Sophie could do nothing but try and withstand the torture without screaming out, yet each time she was brought to the edge of orgasm, this was made more difficult. The girls relished the internal struggle Sophie was having, wanting to orgasm more than ever in her life, yet at the same time trying with all her might to keep quiet.
As Sophie’s slumber party from hell went on, her moans grew louder and louder while the girls continued to giggle and drive the girl wild. They started to take turns to rest, masturbating at Sophie’s erotic suffering. One after the other they each kept her held down, feeling her sweat coated body pressed to their own naked bodies, feeling her pussy slippery wet with pure need. Taking it in turns, they never stopped sucking, licking and masturbating the girl relentlessly, feeling her struggle continuously against them in desperation, only stopping at the moments when her orgasm seemed so imminent.
Sophie wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to her come, yet somehow she did none of these things. All she could do was writhe and twist in violent longing. Not only was she so close to coming every time, she was also so close to screaming out; her moans and whimpers were as loud as they could possibly be, yet there was no disturbance from downstairs. Sophie was far past the point of caring who would hear her pleas, even as she whimpered and begged the girls, they all told her to scream it out, yet something deep within Sophie wouldn’t let her take that final leap.
Hours seemed to pass by, with the cruel girls as her tormenting cradle, keeping her suspended in a world of delirious longing. Sophie’s pussy would not stop dripping or contracting, and the twitching of her clit was barely noticed due to the constant stream of tongues and fingertips pressed to it.
Sophie’s body jolted as the unexpected sensation of a vibrator pressed to her throbbing, swollen pussy. The girls had planned this thoroughly, bringing their own toys to add to Sophie’s slumber party torture. At first Sophie tried to fight it, yet once again all she could do was give in as they kept her held tightly, indefensibly swept along to a tide of painfully erotic torment. The buzzing on her clitoris made her squeal before her mouth was covered; clearly the girls wanted their work to continue. Sophie for a moment thought they would let her cum, though the moment of mercy was taken away once again. She bit her own lip to stop herself from screaming as the toy was pulled away. As quietly as she could, her voice shaking, Sophie continuously begged and pleaded in a whimper which the girls relished, only to be repeatedly met with the same reply… that it was still so early in the night.
The more it went on and the longer the denial seemed to last, the more she wanted to give in, to scream out and finally make them give her the release she needed so much. Yet even if they did let her come before she screamed out, how would she be able to last once they kept making her climax again and again. The girls would see to it that whether she succumbed now or tried to hold out as long as possible, Sophie would suffer.
The End
Spells
They had learned many new spells from the sex education classes, but this small group knew that there must be a genre of very specific spells harvested from the dark arts, for naughtier purposes.
The restricted area of the library was a treasure trove of wicked delights, though one book stood out, ‘The darkest arts – sex hexes most tormenting’. They were cautious at first, but upon closer inspection they realised just what kind of spells they were dealing with, and knew that they just had to master them and see them in action.
They selected their target with little debate: a particular studious, bookish, sweet girl was the perfect slice of innocence for them to defile. Catching her away from the rest of her house, she was easy to overpower and bring back to their common room. Finally, this shining example of a student was all theirs to torment; little-miss-perfect would suffer.
A few simple enchantments soundproofed the room before they made short work of her clothes. They could have magically bound her to the wooden chair, but the physicality of restraints, of cuffs, made things so much more tangible. They wanted her to truly feel and understand the helplessness of her predicament once she awoke.
Naked, wrists cuffed to the armrests, ankles cuffed to the chair legs, and cut off from the rest of the school she was at their mercy. With wands raised, wasting no time to hear her confused questions and pleas, they started instantly. A blast of pure pleasure set her body in motion, arching from the seat in sensations of pleasure that seemed to have been conjured from the very pits of hell; a creeping, writhing, unrelenting shock of constant, inhumane pleasure. Formless and with no clear origin, it was a fiery sensation that swelled throughout; a confusing, intense and agonising stream of instant electric arousal. All she could do was try and catch her breath whenever they st
opped, as any time she attempted to speak, or scream, or cry out, or even weep, they blasted her with pure pleasure once again.
It wasn’t a pleasure which rose and fell, like the touch of a lover, but a sustained and indescribable shock that nonetheless was getting her close to orgasm. She was too lost to hear them discussing what spells to test on her, but knew something was wrong with the next spell they had cast. Numbness spread throughout her sex before settling back to normal. It wasn’t long until she realised what they had done.
She screamed at the top of her longs once she saw them all raise their wands together, casting the same pleasure spell at once. Indescribable agonising ecstasy tore through her, yet the spell previously cast now became clear. She would have come in a second from this otherwise, yet her body was locked just shy of that pinnacle. No matter how much she tried or willed herself to orgasm, mercy was not granted. She would have begged if she could, but the intensity snatched the very ability of speech away, constricting her voice as if ready to crush the air from her lungs like a coiling snake. Had they not have enchanted the girl to make sure she could not pass out or suffer mental or physical consequences from fatigue, she would have lost consciousness long ago. It felt like years that they kept her pressed against the walls of orgasm, a wall which would not crumble, though it was mere minutes.