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Such was my mindset when I crossed my front lawn, backpack over one shoulder, to see my parents' car missing from the driveway. Dimly I remembered them saying they would be out of town for the week and warning me against any parties, but I hadn't really been paying much attention. It didn't really matter, however; I had enough of a work ethic to know when to party during the weekend and when to buckle down, and this was definitely time for the latter.I walked into my house, throwing my backpack in a corner where I promised I wouldn't look at it for a whole hour, then started up the stairs to the bedrooms."emma?" I called out. "You home?" Up here!" She answered back, and I followed her voice into her own bedroom, where I found her sprawled on her bed, flipping through a magazine.I tried not to stare at her too much, but it was hard. Her blouse was tight, her tits straining against the fabric, and I could make out the outlines of her bra. In my mind's eye I mentally placed where her. As the boys, and even a few girls, took their orderly place in line, Taylor observed in the mirrored ceiling above that their group shape transformed from an iron cross into a swastika. However, no fascism existed tonight. This evening was all about free love, no boundaries, and fucking and sucking until you couldn’t fuck or suck any more.New guys, Fat Head and Crooked Dick, took their places at either end of Danni. She did her best Lovelace impression on Crooked Dick, as Fat Head entered her dripping vagina.Big Cock was rewarded for his obedient work, and much to her delight, took Taylor’s tight ass. The first girl of the evening, a cute blonde with perky tits, named Perky, straddled Taylor’s face. She howled to the crowd’s delight from the pleasure inflicted on her clit by Taylor’s experienced tongue. After Perky came on Taylor’s face, she shared her mouthful of tequila with Taylor, before moving to Danni’s pussy line.When the last shot was cleared from the tray, Danni instructed.
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Maybe.”“So which slave girls would you take?”“What?”“You do know,” he said heavily, “that the girls go as sex slaves. They’re not real people.”“Well, some go as sponsors.”“How do you know?”“Because there was one in the group that went when my parents went.”There was a brief pause. “So you’re telling me, you’ve actually seen a woman go as a sponsor?”“Yes.”“Hmm. I knew it was supposed to be true, but I’ve never heard of it actually happening.”I was about to say something when I realised he wasn’t talking to me.“I’ve heard of it,” said Doctor. “Or at least, I knew that’s what they say.”“So who was the woman? Did she take a male slave?”“She took a bloke with her, yes.”“Who? What was her name?”I paused, pretending to try and remember. I did remember Pauline Lipp, she had some nice knickers. “I can’t remember,” I said after a pause. “I only knew a few of the people there, and not very well.”“Why not?”“They were mostly friends of Mum or Dad.”“Hm. So. Who would you take? If you went.”“I’d.

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