# 12. party for perverts

hbd, girl.

“Prepare for total Madame worship.”

Mister had given me weeks to clear my schedule for Madame’s upcoming birthday where we (a group of undisclosed - and blindfolded - subby lovers of Madame) would worship Madame with orgasm after orgasm.

I was giddy with anticipatory rock hard nipples. This was the shit I was living for. Mister and Madame were legends at hosting events. They were thoroughly planned and executed. Perfectly intimate and safe. Their friends, always hot, and their taste impeccable. I guess the dungeon would be a strange place under florescent lights, easily mistaken for a crime scene, but in my experiences the lights were always dimmed and red. Gratitude. I one hundred percent knew in my heart, whatever he was planning would blow me off my feet.

As more details began to come in about Madame’s party, Mister told me what to wear (all red) and said everyone there would be blindfolded except for Mister and Madame. I was bummed by this because I obviously wanted to see ass and titties.

I went back to my new second home, Hustler, to buy a tiny triangle bikini top. Madame had mentioned that I should own one a few times over the course of this relationship - on account of my big ass tits. I wanted to make my little costume perfect for her so since I knew she has a thing for school girl attire like the proper perv she was, I also got a matching red skirt that barely covered my ass. Since “all red” was a a recurring costume at this point, I figured it was finally time for some red slutty stilettos. Hustler had some with red fuzz on the toe on sale, exactly what I wanted. Perfectly rounding out my red look with the matching red thigh highs I had at home.

Note to add: They wouldn’t let me try on both shoes, I could only try one. I was told too many people on Hollywood Boulevard run out of the store to steal them after trying on. These babies were tall and I don’t typically wear a shoe with more than two to three inches on the heel. I tried on one and asked how anyone could possibly run in them. They were so tall and wobbly.

“Whoever runs out of the store in these deserves the steal quite frankly,” I told the salesperson.

By this time in my experience with Mister, I knew when he told me a time to arrive it always meant that exact time, not a minute before or after. I’d learned that lesson several times. For example, Oscar Orgy It was always: text when I arrive and he will come blindfold and retrieve me. I figured the same would go for this as well, so I arrived at seven pm sharp.

I texted Mister and held my blindfold so I wouldn’t get in trouble. He didn’t answer so I walked back to her place and saw her front yard had been covered with black tarp to block anyone from seeing in. Iconic. Mister sat at the table outside as I peeked my head in.

“Will you put on my blindfold, Mister?”

He looked at me and smiled.

“No blindfolds after all. Let lil b make you a drink.”

“Ohhhh my god! Like a real party but slutty?! Look what I’m wearing for Madame.”

I opened my coat, then turned and ran inside to find her. And when I say ran I mean I hopped and wobbled slowly since I could hardly walk in these shoes.

“Happy birthday!” I opened my coat again.

“Oh my god, YES.” She laughed and I showed her how I couldn’t run in the shoes, mostly so that my tits would bounce and everyone could watch and laugh and tell me my tits looked huge. You’ll have to trust me because the only thing I am willing to share is the bottom half of my look.

*Feels huge of me to post that. If you don’t like and comment at the end I will press charges.*

“Lil b can make you a drink.” Lil b had been assigned to be the service sub for the night. She was making everyones drinks (turns out she didn’t know much about cocktails so everyone’s drinks were incredibly strong - a win).

Other than that, I was the first one there. They had turned me into a good girl.

“Of course all the brats are late,” Mister laughed.

I had lil b make me a drink and I sat outside as more girls showed up. Everyone was dressed specifically as they’d been ordered by Mister. All of them looked insanely good. It was so interesting to see other girls slut-fits. Everyone was cool and nothing like the pictures of the majority of people on Feeld - which is still my only real insight to the outside world of sex parties and BDSM. Those people always looked plastic and cheesy in their costumes. Re: gross and scary. But no judgement.

All of the girls were a lover of Madame. Most of the girls had casual relationships with her, some of them met her through Mister, some only knew Madame and were meeting Mister for the first time. Lil b and I were the only full time sub life players.

As we all introduced ourselves to each other, Madame and lil b brought out catering. We smoked joints and drank, ate mushrooms and laughed. The adrenaline was electric. No one knew what to expect. Some girls said they were nervous. This was interesting to me because I’d expected everyone to be just like Madame - badass and fearless. However, they were still very much down to clown (have a mostly all girl orgy). Ya, they all ended up being badass and fearless.

Madame told us the plan for the night: After dinner, we’d play spin the bottle then go inside for more games.

“By the way - I’m on my period,” one of the girls said.

“Mine’s almost done,” another added.

Turned out, almost all of the girls spoke up that they too were on our periods. Witches.

“I don’t care about that,” Madame told everyone. Of course she didn’t.

I on the other hand wasn’t so sure.

“Just lick a different hole!” Either I or someone recommended, it’s hazy. Although, definitely sounds like me trying to disguise fear and disgust of blood as chill indifference.

Disclaimer: All men have to love period oral. If they don’t they are misogynist weasels who don’t deserve love. Women are the exception, especially me. It makes me neither lame or hypocritical. I don’t make the rules, I only abide, thank you.

Spin the bottle started tame and slow and shy. The bottle kept landing on the same girl and the rest of us grew eager to participate - we tried to change the location of the bottle several times. Perhaps out of frustration but it seemed suddenly spins turned into groups making out all over the table and my face in the girl next to me’s ass while saying “how does your butthole smell and taste like strawberries?”

Mister whispered to me, “it always does, it’s crazy.”

Just a gaggle of women in lingerie, one man and some ass eating in a front yard behind a tarp. An average Sunday night.

We moved inside and Madame had what looked like 700 sex toys laid out on the floor. She laughed and told us it’s the “perverted party” she always dreamt of having when she was a little girl. This was one hundred percent her raunchy truth and I loved her for it.

I learned this year that most of my adult girlfriends have explored sex with their childhood girlfriends as kids. I am still astonished. I feel so naive because simply talking about masturbating with your friends was not even something I’d heard of until I read Chelsea Handler’s book. She wrote that in elementary school, the girls would turn off the lights and hump their pillows together silently in the same room. I genuinely don’t think any of my childhood friends would have even known girls do this. It’s like…common!? I’m still recovering from the shock of this being the majority.

Anyway back to the party! Madame pulled out a bowl with a bunch of ripped papers and dice. One by one we were to pull out a slip from the bowl, read the dare and and the number on the sheet, then roll the dice. The number on the dice was multiplied by the number on the slip of paper. That number was how long you’d have to do the date for.

“If you don’t want to do butt stuff that’s fine. Just redraw,” Madame instructed oh so casually.

At this point everyone except Mister was buzzed. A few of us said no anal but mostly everyone was down for everything.

Gathered around the living room, dares were being pulled and dice was being rolled.

Some dares included:

• Covering the person - everyyywherrreee - in clothespins in the drawn amount of time. Then that person was to stay covered in clothespins until their next draw.

• Putting ice in…places on or in the body.

• Face sitting.

Honestly, let your imagination go nuts. We had a full of drunk bi girls, an absurd amount of sex toys and Madame’s imagination for dares to play by.

At one point everyone was ass-to-mouth like a caterpillar munching down a big leaf prepping for metamorphosis. This essay has been sponsored by the 2003 Hillary Duff album “Metamorphosis”.

We were crawling and climbing and licking and kissing and humping all over each other. Everyone was all over each other. I was avoiding blood holes like a pro after learning the hard way this was not just a fear but in fact my truth. Yes, I got a taste of some blood. I’m a picky eater but at least I try things.

By three am it was time to go home. Some girls who had said they needed to leave early were still there - everyone had had the time of their life.

The next morning I texted Madame I wanted to do it again next weekend. Half joking but not really.

“You know I didn’t actually cum last night.”

I read this text from Madame and hopped in my car. I couldn’t let her birthday end without a proper finish.

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