Party Girl

Disclaimer

: Everyone in the story is 18 years old or older at all points. A resemblance to any person, living or dead, is merely coincidental.

Authors Note:

This story is part of the Family story universe but is a stand-alone series.

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After leaving Dylan, I grabbed a glass of water and stared into space, wondering what to do next. While I technically had three slaves, I was only confident that two of them would follow directions. Mia would, I felt, because of our relationship and the promise I made to be her slave at a later date of her choosing. We always kept our commitments to each other, no matter how stupid or fucked up they were. I still remember her daring me to shave the right side of my head. My mom was so pissed.

Lindsay would because of what her sister had already gotten her to do earlier that night. That's when I got an evil idea.

I opened the door to Sam's new room, catching her in a thong and a sports bra.

Startled, she snapped, "What the fuck!"

I leaned on the doorframe, crossed my arms, and stared at her. "Excuse me?" I asked.

She deflated quickly. "Sorry, Mistress. I thought you were Lindsay."

I looked at the clothes she had picked—a loose top and cutoffs. "You're not wearing that, " I said. I pushed past her and dug through her clothes until I found a half-shirt and spandex shorts. "Take off the bra and panties and put these on."

Sam looked at the clothes in my hands and shook her head. "I can't wear that to the club; that place is a dive."

"Sam, this isn't open for debate. Put the fucking clothes on." I could see that she wasn't going to do it. The dare to be my slave was only going to get so much obedience out of her. It was time to drop the other shoe.

Sam smiled at me as if to say I couldn't make her. "This whole thing is stupid, and I won't do this any longer."

I stepped closer to her. "Sam, you lost the game and agreed to the penalty. Aren't you going to do what you agreed to?"

Sam looked nervious as she took an involuntary step back. "It was just a stupid game."

I stepped closer again, reminding her. "It wasn't a stupid game when you made Lindsay follow through with her penalties."

Sam bumped into the bed behind her. "Lindsay is an idiot," she argued.

"What would your mom say if she knew that you pimped out your sister to the pizza delivery guy and his girlfriend?"

Sam got a panicked look on her face. "You wouldn't dare," she said, but she could see by my look that I would. "She won't believe you."

I don't know who she was trying to convince. I let my raised eyebrows be my response.

Giving up fighting with me, Sam asked, "What do you want?"

"You are my property to do whatever I want to with until I get bored, just like you agreed earlier. Otherwise, I send your mom a fascinating video montage, and you get to explain how you turned her baby into a whore."

Sam looked somewhere between pissed and defeated. "Fine," she snapped. She removed the bra and panties before dressing in the outfit I had picked.

*****

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was downstairs in the living room. I took my time descending the stairs, savoring Mia, Sam, and Dylan's nervous glances and Lindsay's jealous looks at the other women.

I walked to Lindsay first, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her gently as I cupped her tight ass through the thin night shirt she wore. When I broke the kiss, we were both flushed and breathing heavily. "I want you to relax and enjoy yourself," I said. "Maybe find some porn and watch it while you wait for us to get home."

Lindsay reached for me as I pulled away from her. "Can't I go?"

"Not this time." I held up my hand to forestall the argument she was about to start. "If I hear any more about this, it will be a long time before I let you go, understand?" I held her gaze until she dropped her eyes.

Dejected, she slumped down into the chair behind her. "Yes, Mistress."

I turned to Mia and Sam. Each was wearing a top far too small for them, showing off their breasts and already hard nipples. Sam's Spandex shorts were so tight they gave the impression that she had sprayed them on. Mia's shorts were tight as well, and they left half her ass hanging out. Both women were dressed perfectly for what I had in mind.

Dressed in denim and a leather jacket, with a bandana tied around his head, Dylan looked every inch the outlaw biker.

I had decided on jeans and my favorite jiu-jitsu T-shirt. Nothing was too tight or revealing, nor did it prevent movement in case I needed to protect myself or my charges.

Sam looked at my shirt and frowned. It read:

Jiu Jitsu

(noun. [joo'jitsoo]) 1. the

gentle art

of

folding

another's

clothing

while they are still wearing

it. 2. involuntary yoga

"I never liked that shirt," she grumbled.

Prompted by her comment, Dylan read the shirt and laughed. "Fuck, that's perfect for where we're going." He stopped laughing and looked me in the eyes. "Are you sure about this?"

I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, almost melting against him while I kissed him. "Are you afraid that you can't keep us safe?" I asked him, nuzzling his right ear. I could almost feel the heat of Sam's gaze on my back.

His arms wrapped around me. Grabbing my ass, he pulled me close and kissed me back. After a few minutes of Frenching, he pulled back. "I'm not worried about that."

I leaned in, whispering in his ear. "If you keep up your end of the bargain, I will let you fuck me when we get back home, but you get no sex while we are out -- nothing from anyone. Your job is to keep me and my little slaves safe and not to interfere unless I ask you or things get out of control, and I'm not able to ask. Understand?"

I looked Dylan in the eyes, our faces inches apart. I could feel his cock through my jeans. Part of me wanted to pull it out and fuck him right here, but I wanted him to suffer a little bit first, watching his girlfriend service his buddies and their bitches while he watched. I don't know why. Dylan was a good guy, and I liked him. Maybe it was the shit with him telling Dan about how a real man fucks a woman and using his daughter as the woman to demonstrate it. It might just be that I am the bitch that everyone seems to think I am.

At that moment, it didn't matter.

Dylan sighed and let my ass go. "Yeah, I understand," he muttered. He glanced sheepishly at Sam before walking to the door.

I looked at Sam and Mia. The former was doing her best to hide how pissed she was, and the latter looked like she wanted to be somewhere else. I stared at both of them until they looked down. "Ready, sluts?"

Almost in unison, they replied, "Yes."

"Come on then," I said, and out the door we went.

Once we were all outside, I turned toward my car. "Sam, you're with me. Mia, you ride bitch with Dylan."

Mia hated riding, and Sam didn't want anyone -- especially not Mia -- that close to Dylan, so it was the perfect setup. The drive to the bar was quiet. Sam was fuming at Mia riding behind her boyfriend, but she was intelligent enough not to complain. It was a twenty-minute drive, so a few minutes in, I glanced at Sam. "Let's talk about tonight and what happens afterward."

Sam looked back at me, and I could tell she wanted to say something but didn't want to get into trouble. She was falling into the submissive role better than I had hoped.

"For the sake of this conversation," I said, "it's just you and I, Sam. I want to know what you are thinking and how you feel." She still said nothing, so it fell to me to prompt and prod her. "... Let's start with your plans for Lindsay and the exhibitionism you had with me."

Sam looked briefly at me. "Lindsay has always been a people-pleaser and a suckup. So I had been drinking, and I thought it would be fun to see if I could shock her. She admitted that she liked you.

"I admitted that I did too. So I kept pushing. I dared Lindsay to ask you over. She called, but you weren't able to come over."

I had left to babysit for Shelly and couldn't go over. "I remember that."

"One thing led to another until the dare was for her to lick your pussy while you beat hers. She chickened out, of course. I called her a baby and a few other names. She started crying, and I told her she was a big baby and to get out and that I didn't want anything to do with her anymore." Sam looked uncomfortable as she continued. "Lindsay caved in at that point. She said she would do anything. I made her swap rooms, and afterward, she sat on the floor and kissed my feet each night before I went to bed."

She sighed and looked over at me. "A few days later, we played again. I told her if she won, she could have her room back and stop with the nightly foot worshiping. If she lost, she would be my slave. I made it clear to her, and she was all bubbly and confident that she would win. She stayed with truth for most of the game, and I managed to get a lot of interesting things out of her."

"Like what?" I asked.

Sam's face broke out into a wide grin. "Like you are the most common thing she masturbates to."

I was shocked. "Me?" I knew Lindsay hadn't had many boyfriends, but she'd never seemed to want to date girls.

"Yeah, I was surprised as well. After that, I teased Lindsay a little bit, so the next time, she took a dare instead."

"Let me guess: you gave her the same dare that got you the room?" I suspected that had been when Lindsay had become her slave.

"No. I guess I was annoyed that Lindsay said she masturbated thinking about you. I dared her to pull down my pants and sit between my legs. To top it off, she had to look at my pussy while she played with herself.

"I was sure I had won, but after about a minute of biting her lower lip, she grabbed my pajama bottoms with trembling hands and pulled them and my panties down, exposing my pussy. She knelt between my legs, slipped her hand inside her pajama bottoms, and fingered herself while she looked at my pussy. Fuck! I got so wet watching my little sister play with herself less than a foot from my pussy. I knew she had to smell my arousal."

Sam's right hand dropped to her lap, gently touching her pussy through the spandex. "She was moaning and grunting. Her hand moved furiously inside her PJs. I knew she was getting close, so I made her stop right before she came." She looked over at me. "She begged me to let her cum. I considered it. The temptation to put my hand on the back of her head and push her against my soaked pussy was hard to fight. But I did. I had bigger plans for my subbie little sister.

"I had her sit back on the bed, hands in her lap, and continue playing the game. She wanted to do truth next; I don't remember it. Eventually, I asked her a dare. I'm sure she worried I would make her go down on me. It wasn't that -- well, not directly. That was when I dared her to do the same thing that caused her to lose the first game.

"She started yelling and crying. I waited her out. When she finally calmed down, I told her she would be my slave going forward. Her first task was to lick me until I came. She shook her head. It took fifteen minutes before she was on her knees between my legs, licking my soaked pussy, but she did it. That has been her task every night since then. Sometimes, it was after Dylan came inside me. Sometimes it was before."

I nodded. Everything was more or less what I'd thought had happened. "So," I asked, "tonight, Lindsay was supposed to get me drunk, and you were going to take advantage of me?"

Sam was clearly unhappy that things went as they had that night. "Something like that."

"I guess what you had planned doesn't matter anymore." I changed the subject, sensing how pissed she was about things going sideways for her. "How are you with being a sub to me?"

Sam looked out the window, not saying anything for a few minutes. She finally replied in a subdued voice. "I wasn't happy when you kind of forced things earlier. I was pissed when you had Mia go down on Dylan and confused about how I was feeling. Then you took control and forced me to do what you wanted, punishing me when I refused until I submitted."

She looked back at me. "When I submitted, you stopped punishing me and gave me pleasure instead. I realized then that Lindsay and I weren't that different. I guess I had always wanted someone to make me submit, but no one ever had. When I decided to do what you wanted, not what I wanted, I felt completely free for the first time in my life."

I could see Sam was close to tears. I squeezed her left hand, touching it and kissing her fingers.

"I don't know how I feel about you and Dylan," she said. "How he acted with you seemed like he did when we first met. I don't want to lose him, and I don't want to lose you either, Mistress." No longer able to contain them, a few tears fell down her face.

The honesty coming from Sam touched me, and I almost felt like crying with her. "Sam," I said, "I like Dylan, but more like a big brother than someone I want to have a long-term relationship with. I conversed with him, warning him that you belonged to me, not him. I wanted him to understand that most of the time, things would be normal between you. There will be times I will have you do things, like tonight, and he will have no say other than to ensure you are safe. Essentially, you belong to me. You're my property to loan or use how I see fit. I just happen to like Dylan, and most of the time, he can use you.

"Now, later tonight, if Dylan is a good boy, I will let him make love to me. You will watch the entire time. If you follow directions, I will let you sleep in the room with us. If you don't follow directions, I will let you watch until he puts his cock inside me, then you will stand in the hallway while he makes love to me, listening to every sigh and moan before you go to Lindsay's room and service Mia and your sister all night. Understand?"

I could see Sam wasn't happy as she wiped away her tears. "Yes, Mistress."

"Any other questions?"

Sam shook her head.

"Good. Fix your makeup. We're almost there."

Five minutes later, we turned at the light in front of the bar. I parked, and Sam followed me toward Dylan, who was waiting with Mia. A couple of the other club members sat on their bikes, talking as they watched us.

Dylan moved closer to me. "You can still change your mind," he said, dropping the subject when he saw my look.

I nodded at the two older men sitting on their bikes. "Who are they?"

"Little Mike and Steve-O," Dylan replied. He could tell I didn't know either of them, so he added more. "Lookouts for the club."

I gave Dylan my best little girl smile. "Can you have them keep an eye on my car? I don't want it messed with while we are inside."

Dylan looked at me with a slightly open mouth. When he realized I was serious, he spoke with the two men as we continued to the entrance. They all had a big laugh as Dylan walked over to join us.

Dylan was shaking his head when he got back. "They said you have a pair on you."

I looked at the two men, who were busy checking out Sam and Mia. "Was that a yes or a no?"

Dylan opened the door. "They said nothing would happen to your car while they were out there."

The noise as the door opened wasn't as loud as I'd expected. Movie depictions of biker bars had given me the wrong impression. About thirty people were inside the bar. About ten were women of various ages and body types; the rest were men. Most of the conversations briefly stopped the instant they noticed us, but they started up again after everyone saw Dylan.

As we found a table, I moved close to him and tried for a joke. "And here I thought this might be awkward."

Dylan crossed his arms as he sat with his back to the wall. "I tried to tell you this was a bad idea."

I sat next to him and watched everyone in the room move in their little circles, casting glances at us -- some quickly, and others longer and with more appraising looks in their eyes. There were patterns in how people moved between groups in and out of the room.

Not taking my eyes off the room, I asked Dylan, "Does it always take this long to get service?"

"Not normally -- but I don't normally bring in outsiders, so this is new for me."

After we had been there for ten minutes, a run-down blonde server headed to our table from a table in the back, where two older men were sitting. Before she got to us, I turned to Dylan. "Who are the two guys over in that corner?" I used my eyes to point them out.

Dylan again looked uncomfortable. "Why do you want to know?"

I batted my eyelashes at him. "Because they run everything here, so it might be nice to know who the bosses are."

Dylan looked dumbfounded but quickly recovered. "They don't..."

My smile slipped, and my eyes got hard- a trick I learned from Sam's mother. "Dylan, sweetie, don't say something stupid that will piss me off."

He looked away. "God, you're scary when you do that."

"Stop stalling."

Dylan sighed. "Gunner and Crow. They run the club." He held up his hand to stop the next question. "That is all I am going to say, Runt." The arrival of the server saved him from any more questions.

"Hey, baby, I haven't seen you in here in a while," the blonde said, dropping into Dylan's lap and putting an arm around his neck.

Dylan ran his hands down her back, cupping her ass through her thin shorts. "Hi, Stella. How's Pops doing?"

I saw Sam stiffen, so I squeezed her hand, shaking my head. She frowned but remembered her role and dropped her eyes. I was sure Dylan was going to get an earful later.

She giggled, but her attention was on us more than on Dylan. "Pops is doing good. He and T-Bone were in here a little while ago. Too bad they had a run to make. He would have loved to catch up with you. Who are your little sluts?"

I locked eyes with Stella. "Actually, they're not his; they're mine." I used the exact look I had on Dylan a few minutes ago, holding her gaze until she looked away.

Dylan introduced us, hoping to diffuse the tension. "Stella, this is Abi. Abi, this is Stella. Abi is a friend of mine and asked to come here."

Stella looked between Dylan and me. "Why would she want to come here?"

I never took my eyes off hers. "I have some new submissives who need some training and figured this would be a perfect place to get them some." The intensity of my gaze bothering Stella confirmed my impression from when I'd first seen her: she was also submissive.

She gave me a look that made it clear she didn't know what was wrong with me. "Why on earth would you think this would be the perfect place to train submissives?"

I sighed, taking on a tone I use when talking to small children. Stella picked up on it immediately, and I loved that it pissed her off. "This is a safe, controlled place, sweetie."

Stella stood up, moving toward me. "Don't fucking talk to me that way, you little bitch."

Dylan made to stand, but I lifted my hand to forestall him.

I kept my seat, giving her a smile that never reached my eyes. "If you don't want me to talk to you like a child, don't fucking act like one." My tone and posture seemed to confuse the hell out of her. "Like I said, it's safe and controlled. Nothing happens without Gunner or Crow's approval."

To say Stella was shocked would be an understatement. There was a complete outsider—a twenty-something woman—who knew how the club worked.

To her credit, she quickly recovered. "What can I get you to drink?"

"I think I will stay with water for now. My subs will take a shot of whisky each." I pointed to Mia and Sam. Mimicking Stella's accent, I looked at Dylan. "What do you want, Big Boy?"