“I… what?”

“Take your dress off.”

My ears register it, but my mind can’t comprehend the order. “But we’re...”

“In a private room where the staff have been handsomely paid for the privilege of leaving us the hell alone for the next two hours. Take. Off. Your. Dress.”

I glance around at our friends. Their facial expressions all sit somewhere on the scale from mischievous twinkling of the eyes to full-blown sadistic grins. Clearly, they’ve been fully briefed on this evening’s plan. Ryan is watching me, arms folded across his chest—the waiting for me to obey pose. After a long moment, I reach behind, unzip my dress and pull it off over my head. 

“Good girl. Now your underwear.”

My confusion and lust-mixed-with-apprehension intensifies as I pull off the panties and bra I’ve been wearing for barely half an hour. I’m not self-conscious about being naked in front of this little crew of friends—they’ve all seen me running around Eden, our regular sex club, with no clothes on more times than I can count. The flush of something like embarrassment that comes over me stems from knowing there’s some key information at play here that everyone else in this room is privy to. Everyone except for me.  

“Put your hands behind your back and close your eyes.” I do as he says, and I feel Ryan come up behind me. His hot breath on my ear, he whispers, “do you trust me?”

“With my life, Sir,” I tell him, repeating the words I said in response to that same question at our collaring ceremony, more than three years ago. These same friends were there for that, too. 

He pulls my hair gently back, and fixes something over my eyes. The leather blindfold he gave me this morning. Of course. Even when I open my eyes behind it, not a sliver of light gets in. Ryan takes my hand and someone else my other one. I think it’s Mark, but I can’t be sure. They guide me with them a few paces. 

“You’re next to the table you saw in the middle of the room,” Ryan tells me. “You’re going to climb up onto it and lie flat on your back. Don’t be scared—we won’t let you fall.”

I feel for the table in front of me, and climb up as instructed, their hands steadying me until I am in the desired position. I realise from the feel that the fabric beneath me is the “fluid proof” sex throw that Ryan and I invested in a few months ago, but have hardly used. 

I can hear the others moving about the room, though they’re obviously trying to be quiet. Ryan leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Keep very still.” 

Oh! Something small and slightly cold is placed upon my belly. It takes me only a couple of seconds to realise it’s a piece of sushi roll and it all clicks. 

The blindfold, the private dining room, the sushi restaurant, the friends. That fantasy I told him about, a long time ago. 

I try very hard not to twitch a muscle as slices of sashimi and pieces of sushi roll are laid methodically all over my naked body. Up and down my stomach in rows, around my small breasts and over the now-erect nipples, balanced atop the curves of my thighs. I feel myself drifting, glorious subspace descending over me as I can do nothing but allow this to happen. 

Ryan’s warm breath is in my ear again. “You’re the centrepiece tonight, Angel,” he tells me. “And you’re going to stay perfectly still while we eat our fill of this delicious food off your even more delicious body. Whatever we do to you, you will not move.”

A shiver runs through me and my cunt twitches. I am an object—human furniture and decoration both—to be enjoyed by my Sir and the select friends he’s chosen to join us to fulfil this fantasy. If I were allowed to reach down between my legs, I’m sure I would find myself dripping yet again. 

A single finger strokes its way down my side. I am hyper-sensitised from the anticipation and the heightened arousal combined with denied sexual release. Even this gentle touch sets my nerves tingling. 

“Tuck in,” Ryan says. Somehow, I know he’s not just talking about the food. He’s offering me up to be devoured. 

I hardly dare to breathe as the first few pieces of food are delicately lifted from my body. I hear sighs of contentment and the odd, quiet remark on how good it is. 

Someone holds a piece of sushi to my lips and giggles when I open my mouth eagerly to accept it. 

“If you want it, you’ve got to ask nicely,” says Gem’s voice. I know immediately from the intonation that she’s gone into her full Dominant mode, something she only taps into very occasionally. 

“Please?” I ask. 

“You can do better than that.” 

I nibble my lower lip. “Please may I have some, Miss?” I say demurely.  

“Good girl.” She slides the roll into my mouth and I chew slowly, savouring the wonderful flavours, the sensuality of the different textures—the delicate fish, the sticky rice, the creamy avocado. A purr of satisfaction escapes my lips. I open my mouth for more, and someone obliges with a slice of tuna. 

I gasp and jump slightly as a hand slips down between my thighs. 

“Still.” Ryan’s voice is commanding, stern.

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” 

I don’t know whose fingers they are. Not Ryan’s, I’d know his touch anywhere. They’re thin, slight fingers with long nails. Kara? Or Alyssa? I lose my ability to ponder who they might belong to as the digits find my clitoris and circle it slowly. Oh so slowly. My breath catches in my throat and it takes all my concentration not to buck my hips against the feather-soft touch. A moan escapes my lips and is quickly silenced as a piece of nigiri slides into my open mouth. Even as I chew the divine food, whimpers are escaping as my breathing quickens. 

The fingers tease me into a frenzy for another minute or so, and then stop. More pieces of food are carefully, one by one, picked from my body, and I feel more being added as space is freed up. Sometimes a slice is fed to me freely, and sometimes they make me ask for it. Fucking hell, they’re taunting me with the food as well as with the sexual stimulation. 

“Do you want a drink, girl?” Kate asks in my ear, a touch of laughter in her voice.

“Yes please, Miss.” It’s probably a trick question but I’m all too willing to play the game. 

I feel her lean over me, and then our lips meet and she’s pouring cold sake from her mouth into mine. A drop escapes and drips down my chin. She licks it up delicately with the tip of her tongue. I swallow and she kisses me again. It’s so unbearably erotic, being fed wine from the mouth of this sexy, sexy woman. My pussy gushes. I grip the wooden edges of the table beneath me, forcing myself to remain still. 

“Mmmm,” she moans. “Delicious. Anyone else?” She pours a few drops of wine carefully across my collarbone and three other mouths descend, licking and sucking it from my skin. Drip drip drip. Lick, kiss, lick. Another kiss comes from nowhere, pushing more wine into my mouth. From the long hair tickling my face and the faint, floral scent of her usual perfume, I know it’s Alyssa. 

“I have an idea,” I hear Mark say. There’s inaudible murmuring and then a bark of laughter from Ryan. 

“Oh, that’s cruel,” he says, drawing out the word. “Let’s do it.” 

He plucks the two pieces of fish that are directly covering my nipples from my body. One, he feeds to me. I hear a gasp, then a giggle, as everyone else in the room comes to realise what’s going to happen to me next. Two people’s fingers smear something onto my nipples. At first, I feel nothing, and then…

“Ahh!” I cry. The sensation is what I can only describe as burning. 

“You know what that is?” Gem asks. 

It clicks. Wasabi.

“Holy shit, you evil people!” I’m laughing even as the burning in my nipples intensifies. Oh, fuck, it hurts. It really hurts. I start to squirm, flexing my fingers.  Yet even as I resist the urge to wipe the stuff off my sensitive breasts, I am wetter than ever. There’s no denying it: pain gets me off. So does being a good girl in the face of whatever they decide to inflict upon me.

“Don’t fucking move.” Ryan reminds me. “If you move, it’s going on your clit next.”

That does it. The threat frightens me into compliance even as it also brings another drip of arousal from my cunt. My friends—my tormentors—resume their feast, occasionally scooping some of the wasabi from my nipples with their chopsticks.  

Fingers are burrowing between my legs again, finding my clit. A second hand joins and two fingers push into my soaked pussy. I throw my head back and cry out as they expertly manipulate my flesh, pushing me closer and closer, threatening to rip the orgasm from me. 

“Sir!” It comes out reflexively as the familiar clenching begins.

“Yes, Angel?” he asks. 

“Please can I come?” 

“No.” The fingers stop their delicious dance. I whine as the ache returns. God, I love it. I love it and I hate it and I hate that I love it.

They give me thirty seconds or so to calm down, and then the fingers resume their teasing. Try as I might to fight it, the edge comes even more quickly this time. I start to ask for permission, and someone pops a piece of sushi into my open mouth before the words can fully form. 

“What’s that?” Kate says, her tone taunting, as I try to ask and chew at the same time. “I think she’s trying to ask for something, but I can’t tell what it is.”

“Someone needs to learn not to talk with her mouth full,” Mark adds. “I can’t understand her at all.”

“Well, I suppose that means she doesn’t want it very badly, if she can’t even ask coherently,” Ryan concludes. I whimper loudly. Oh God, I’m so close, I’m so close and they’re not stopping, but I mustn’t come without permission. To come without permission means punishment, possibly even the follow through with the wasabi-clitoris threat. 

I swallow my mouthful and the fingering relents with perhaps a second to spare before I would no longer be able to help falling over into the abyss. 

I’m quivering now, and sweating, and still trying to remain as motionless as I can while my friends use me as a human dinner table. The fluid-proof sheet beneath me is growing slippery – whether with my sweat and arousal or the spilled sake, I’m not sure. I’ve been edged before, of course. Edged to the point of madness. But never without being able to move my body freely against—or, at times, away from—the stimulation. 

More sake is poured down my collarbone and over my chest and then licked from my skin. A fresh coating of wasabi is applied to my nipples, causing a fresh wave of the delicious agony. The fingers are back, taunting and teasing, playing and edging.

“Please let me come!” 

“Hmm. No.” 

“Please!” My urgency grows as the spasms start. 

“I said no!” Ryan growls. “You’d better hold it, slut, or there will be hell to pay.” I fight the orgasm with all my might, searching my addled brain for the least sexy things I can think of, but my whole world has become nothing but my sensitive skin, my aching nipples, my desperate cunt, the bliss and humiliation of being objectified in this way. It’s building, it’s starting, I’m going to… 

The fingers are withdrawn again. I’m almost relieved. Relieved, that is, until I hear a buzzing sound. I am confused for only half a second. The new vibrator! Of course. I take a long, shuddering breath as it finds my clit and whoever is holding it turns it up to a higher speed. 

“You’re to tell us when you’re going to come,” Gem says, giving the toy a wiggle for emphasis, giving away that she’s the one wielding it. 

“And keep still. You’re not going to waste any of this lovely food by dropping it,” Alyssa adds from beside my head. She plucks a roll from my stomach and feeds it to me, then takes another for herself. I chew and swallow as Gem turns the vibrator up another notch. 

My clit jumps. My cunt clenches. “I’m going to come!” I announce. Gem pulls the toy away. 

“No you’re not.” 

She edges me again. Again. Again. The laughter from the room each time I announce my impending orgasm grows along with my increasing urgency, my cries when the toy is withdrawn. I am so focussed on my clit that I do not even notice the sushi on my body is nearly all gone. 

“Last piece,” Ryan says, taking it with his chopsticks and dipping it into the wasabi on my left nipple. “Who wants it?”

“I really think the birthday girl should have it,” says Patrick.

“Yeah, if she can focus on anything other than her horny cunt long enough to enjoy it!” Gem quips as the pulls the vibrator back from my pussy as the orgasm threatens to engulf me again. 

“Well, do you want it, girl?” Ryan asks. 

“Yes please, Sir.” I struggle to get the words to come out. He slips the roll into my mouth and kisses my lips. When I have swallowed the mouthful, he slips the blindfold from my eyes. I blink rapidly as my eyes adjust again to the light. I look around. Our friends watch me, grins on all of their faces. 

“That was fucking awesome,” Kara breathes. 

“We’re not quite done,” Ryan says. He moves down to the other end of the table. Gem offers him the vibrator, which he takes from her. He switches it on. Above me, Kate tips the sake bottle and pours the remaining contents over my body. All six of our friends descend upon me at once, licking the wine from my body, kissing and nibbling me everywhere while Ryan turns the vibrator on to the highest setting and presses it firmly against my clitoris. All ability to keep still now gone, I grind against it with wild abandon. 

“Angel?” 

“Yes, Sir?” I gasp. 

“Come. Now.” 

My world goes blank. I hear a scream of pleasure that must be mine as the most intense orgasm of my life tears through me. 

Some time later, still lying on my back on the now-soaked throw, I kiss him. My partner, my Sir, the love of my life. “Thank you, Sir,” I tell him. He brushes a stray tendril of hair from my damp face and looks into my eyes. 

“I love you, Angel.” He kisses me softly. “Happy birthday.”