Chapter 7 Ready to be a Good Girl
The room fills with sighs and giggles and whispers as they watch me play with myself for them.
I try to ignore how embarrassing it is; instead I focus on the pleasure: my hand wrapped around my shaft; the soft lace brushing against it; the silky feeling of my girly panties dangling around my ankle.
Each movement makes me let out a little moan or sigh.
“Oh, my, she is so responsive.”
“Very nice, Jessica,” says Angelique as my fingers wrap around my shaft. “And how does your little clitty feel?”
It takes a moment for me to realize she’s talking about my cock; once I do, my blush intensifies tenfold.
It shouldn’t be embarrassing anymore — Miss Marilyn has played with it countless times by now — but something about the word, or perhaps her voice saying it aloud.
.. My knees buckle beneath me as my body seizes up with pleasure.
I stumble backwards, catching myself on a table, panting and whimpering.
“You didn’t cum, did you?” asks another woman with jet black hair pulled into a tight bun.
I shake my head from side to side as fast as I can. “No, ma’am.”
“Oh _my,_” Angelique giggles. “Is that all from how pretty your clothes make you feel?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I squeak.
There’s an appreciative hum among the women as I return to stroking.
Every part of me feels electric. I’ve barely started playing with myself and already they’re enjoying this show!
My heart swells at the thought; each time someone lets out an exclamation of delight or appreciation, every giggle or moan or murmur of satisfaction, it just makes me want more.
Every time they tell me what a good girl I am or how happy they are to see me enjoying myself this way, warmth rushes through me.
The butterflies in my stomach grow fuzzier until there’s only an excited flutter — and as their excitement grows, so does mine.
It’s almost too much to take: all those eyes staring at me while I play with my cock like this!
But every moment is better than the last. I don’t ever want them to stop looking at me.
“Stop, Jessica!”
I do, pulling my hand away and letting my cock bounce angrily in the lace. A stricken moan escapes my lips, disappearing into the giggles of the women.
“Just the tip!”
I comply and they laugh again as tight sparks of pleasure roll through me.
“Swirl yourself in little circles, just like a girl!”
Again I follow her instruction; this time they clap and cheer before launching into another barrage of suggestions: rub slowly up and down the underside; just one finger; pump yourself right to the edge.
With each command I get wetter, harder, more desperate.
My hips thrust forward on their own; I try not to whimper but the sounds keep coming anyway, louder each time until I can barely control them.
When I open my eyes and look around, each of the five women seems entranced by the show.
Their smiles are broad, their expressions filled with lust or wonder or delight.
Marilyn’s grin is enormous — and Angelique beside her looks like she might explode at any second.
“I want to see her hole.”
“Of course you do, Lucille. Bend over, sissy!”
Another taut sensation of anxiety in my chest. I hesitate for the barest moment before spinning in front of them and bending over.
My dripping cock disappears up into my dress as my rear is framed by white silk and pink garter straps.
The feeling of cool air rushing against it makes me shudder with pleasure, followed quickly by the heat of embarrassment coursing through me. I know how slutty I must look.
“What a slut! She didn’t even try for modesty.”
There’s a flush of embarrassment. I didn’t even know how else I would do it — they wanted to see it!
What did they expect? But that rush of humiliation isn’t just shame; instead of pulling back from the women, I feel myself growing harder, more eager.
Every new sensation sends another bolt of pleasure racing through me.
I don’t recognize the sound until she’s on top of me: the clicking of heels.
There’s the sudden sensation of fingers slipping along my crack before dipping inside of me; her touch makes my whole body tremble uncontrollably.
A fresh rush of excitement hits me. I squeal as they probe at my entrance, bending further down and grabbing my ankles to keep from falling over.
The room erupts in approval. They’re really enjoying this! All this attention is making me so hard I’m throbbing now; all that matters to me anymore is pleasing these ladies, showing them what a good girl Jessica is, how happy she can make them...
“She likes being played with,” says Angelique. “Have you milked her, Marilyn?”
“Countless times,” she answers.
“Oh, that means she likes it, girls,” Angelique says excitedly, as if this is some grand revelation. “Can she make her spurties that way?”
“Just from her sissy spot? I haven’t tried.”
“Of course you haven’t,” comes Lucille’s drawl. “You’re such a softie, Mary.”
“I like my girls to enjoy themselves!”
“I like to enjoy them myself.”
“Should we try tonight, ladies?” Angelique interjects. My muscles tighten at the suggestion, including around her finger, and she laughs. “It seems Jessica likes that idea.”
“That sounds like fun!” says another voice behind me. “Do you think she’ll spurt for us?”
“Tell everyone what a good girl does,” Marilyn pipes in.
I hesitate; I don’t want to admit it out loud again but when one of the women slips a finger deeper inside of me, my mouth takes over and blurts out, “Good girls wait until they have permission before they cum, ma’am.”
“And are you going to be a good girl, Jessie?” Lucille asks with a laugh. Her hand appears between my legs and wraps around my shaft; the warmth sends shivers up my spine. “Are you going to hold your little sissy orgasm until we say so?”
“Yes, Madame,” I say. I’m unable to keep the anxiety out of my voice.
“Well, you heard her, girls,” Lucille says. “Mary, I suppose you want us to start with something small.”
“Oh, no, darling,” Angelique says before Marilyn can speak. “Oh no. Sissies don’t spurt from little ones. No, no, tonight we’ll use something _big._”