Itching

The night was a blur, and the shots must have been hitting extra hard. you didn't recall ever getting that drunk that fast, and even after you cut yourself off you felt the world continue to spiral and started losing periods of time.

After midnight you were barely functional. you were at the table. you were in a rideshare with your bestie and I. you were in bed with both of us, doing things you'd never normally agree to. your face was buried in your best friend's pussy while My dick was in your ass. you didn't like it but you didn't seem to have much say in the matter...

you were on the couch. I was chatting with your bestie nearby. I was congratulationing her on pulling it off and telling her that you were all hers for the next hour while I recovered, then it would be My turn.

As you faded out of consciousness, she uttered one final phrase in a voice that didn't quite sound like her own and that you couldn't quite understand...that you'd end up forgetting by morning anyway.

"Good girls make good girls, Master. I'm a good girl."