You have to be their

Suddenly Ingrid holds up a collar. Your eyes flick wide. Then you turn back to Anna. She's smiling with a nerdy coyness. "You have to join us as our ****."

And you can't think of a reason in the world not to agree to that. Though you're not sure you feel great about wearing the collar. You glance at it again. "But I'd rather..."

"Hey!" Millie snips. "**** no talkie unless **** told to, understand?"

You wonder, maybe, a little, what you're getting yourself into. Ingrid hands you the collar. It's leather. It's warm around your neck. You fasten it. You take a deep breath.

"Let's make it official." Ingrid says, as if she's done this more than a few times before, sliding her hand down into her jeans. Millie too, slides her hand down into her short skirt. Anna too, slides her hand under her yellow dress.

Then all three girls hold up their wet index fingers for you. Jesus. What a thing.

You know what you're meant to do. You lean in, first toward Ingrid's pale finger and wrap your lips around it. It tastes nice. Then Millie's finger. Then... finally... Anna's.

Millie and Ingrid are attractive. But Anna Kendrick is Anna Kendrick. And as you slide your lips down onto her finger, you can't help but process, as much as anyone could process such a thing, that now you know what she tastes like.

"Okay then." Millie says with a bounce in her voice. "First order of business for our ****."