I'm Not In Charge Here

I'd forgotten so much. I'd forgotten what I was here for. I'd forgotten my place. I'd forgotten how to be decent. I'd forgotten how to say no.

But more than anything else, more than all of it combined, I'd forgotten the single truth that kicked this whole evening off.

I wasn't in charge here.

Power is not only a complicated beast but it is a potent aphrodesiac and it is so sought after by so many people. It is coveted and when one has it, well it's hard to resist the urge to greedily hold on to it. The problem is, though, that more often than not you only think you have power.

Blake thought he had a hold on me, this much I know. He knew that my body responded to his touch with such a potent fervor and he knew that I found it hard not to give him precisely what he wanted. Knew that with every encounter that it became harder for me to deny him as he pushed my limits that little bit more.

And as for Jake? Well he wasn't quite as blunt in his approach as my dear boy Blake but he had his faults and his flaws as well, make no mistake. He was a man and frankly wasn't the brightest bulb in the box and even though I was still getting the full measure of him I was still pretty sure that when his cock started to get hard it drained the blood from his brain and made him think in one singular direction.

And I can't fault them for only seeing the trees and not the forest because even I, with the broader perspective from the start, had forgotten that this whole evening was set towards a single purpose by a puppet master who was so skilled and so knowledgable and so very in tune to the happenings of everyone.

By a woman with a plan and the means to make it happen.

By a woman who, with a quick clearing of her throat, could so thoroughly startle the men on either side of me that their hands which were working so intently on invading me froze instantly on my body as they turned their attention to her.

"I'm thirsty," Rachel pipes up from the far side of Blake, "I'm sure Emily is too. Be a dear and get us something to drink. Maybe something to snack on too."

She said it all so matter of factly, as if she had no question whatsoever in her mind that she was going to be absolutely and unquestioningly listened to.

In spite of this, though, there was an almost palpable stillness and silence. No one was moving. Hell, we were barely even breathing.

And their hands were still on me and still so close and there was only a flimsy blanket even affording me any small amount of dignity and the seconds seemed to stretch on forever in silence and but for the fact that the movie on the screen was barely inching I would have sworn we spent hours there.

But it was barely even seconds before she spoke again.

"Both of you," she tells them, "Boys. Chop chop."

With a clap of her hands they pull themselves from me and I gasp in a gulp of air, the absence of their touch nearly enough to be a sensation in and of itself. Like that absence of a promised pleasure was akin to pain as I winced against it, holding fast and moving my arms to cross over my body as I clenched to me while the boys rustled to their feet on either side of me.

"What would you like?" Jake asks from the far side of me.

"Yeah," Blake chimes in, "I don't think they're serving anything fun."

Rachel practically rolls her eyes, "Make a decision boys. Surprise us. Just go. Flee and find something from the snack table across the way."

"All the way over..." Blake starts, but a withering glare from Rachel makes him bite his tongue and the two boys turn, leaving me alone with her and the ideas swirling around in my head about what might have been, what might have happened.

About how far I might have gone.

About how far I might have fallen.

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