The Meeting and the request

The doorbell rang at exactly two o'clock, and Monica felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. She was sitting on Carrie's couch, a glass of wine in her hand, trying to look casual. Carrie had spent the morning setting up—cheese platter, fresh flowers, the whole hostess vibe—and now the moment had arrived.

Carrie opened the door, and two women stepped inside.

The first was tall, brunette hair cascading over her shoulders and sharp, knowing eyes. She moved with an easy confidence, her curves hugged by a simple black dress. This was Laura, Monica knew immediately. She radiated experience, a quiet authority that made Monica sit up straighter.

The second was smaller, softer, with ginger hair and a sweet, almost innocent face. She wore a floral sundress and sandals, looking like she belonged at a garden party rather than a gathering of self-proclaimed sluts. This was Sarah, and Monica found herself instantly drawn to her warm, open smile.

"Monica," Carrie said, gesturing. "Meet Laura and Sarah."

Laura stepped forward, extending her hand. Her grip was firm, her eyes appraising. "Carrie's told us so much about you. Welcome to the sisterhood."

Monica shook her hand, feeling a thrill run through her. "Thank you. I'm so glad to meet you both."

Sarah moved in for a hug, her arms wrapping around Monica warmly. "We're so excited to have you," she said, her voice soft and genuine. "Carrie says you took to your first gangbang like a natural."

Monica blushed, but she couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face. "It was... incredible. I never knew I could feel that way."

They settled onto the couches, wine glasses refilled, the cheese platter within easy reach. For a while, they chatted about small things—work, the weather, Carrie's garden—but Monica could feel the conversation building toward something more.

"So," Laura said, leaning back, her eyes glinting. "Tell us about your first time. Carrie gave us the highlights, but we want details."

Monica took a sip of wine, gathering her thoughts. She told them everything—the morning with Samuel and Liam, the gangbang with Josh, Carl, Simon, Alex, and Tony, the way they'd filled every hole, covered her face, left her a sticky, satisfied mess.

Sarah listened with wide eyes, nodding along. "That sounds perfect," she said. "There's nothing like that first time you realize you're exactly where you belong."

"Tell us about your experiences," Monica said, eager to hear their stories. "Carrie said you've both done some amazing things."

Sarah's smile turned wistful, a dreamy look in her eyes. "Well, there was this one time at The Underground club in London. It's very dark, very anonymous. We all hit the club, looking to see what action we could get."

Monica leaned forward, captivated.

"The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and everyone was packed together, grinding against each other. No one could see what was happening beneath the chaos."

She paused, taking a sip of wine.

"I saw 4 guys , it was obvious they were friends, right next to a pillar , I got in the middle of the them, rubbed my ass against the first one, pulled out his cock and I let him fuck me in my arse, the others watched and crowded round and then I let each one of them use my ass, one after another. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, with hundreds of people around us. while I bit my lip to keep from screaming. No one knew. No one even looked twice. We didn't even speak and I left with 4 loads up my ass."

Monica's mouth went dry. "That's... incredible."

"It was," Sarah said, a satisfied smile on her face. "It was mind blowing, getting 4 guys up my ass in the middle of a crowd and no-one even knew"

Laura chuckled, shaking her head. "You're always getting into trouble in London."

"What about you?" Monica asked, turning to Laura. "What's your wildest story?"

Laura considered for a moment, swirling her wine. "Probably the biker rally. We all hit a biker rally, I had been told by a friend about the Biker gangs , so we went down and basically offered ourselves up for auction to whichever club bought us and they could fuck us, no questions asked"

Carrie nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "That was an amazing weekend."

"Bikers know how to treat a woman," Laura said. "They're rough, they're dirty, and they don't stop until you're completely satisfied. I had twelve of them that weekend. Took them in every hole, let them cover me from head to toe. By the end, I couldn't walk straight for two days."

Monica's eyes widened. "Twelve?"

"That's nothing," Carrie said, laughing. "I had thirty-one."

Monica's jaw dropped. "Jesus, Thirty-one?"

Carrie shrugged, a modest smile on her face. "Yep, the club that bought me was quite large"

"And I had twenty-five," Sarah added, her voice soft but proud. "It was my first rally. I didn't know what I was getting into, but by the end of it, I was a changed woman."

Monica sat back, her mind reeling. Twenty-five. Thirty-one. Twelve. These women were legends, and she was sitting here with them, being welcomed into their world.

"I've only had five," she said, almost apologetically.

Laura reached over, squeezing her knee. "Five is a beautiful start. And trust me, you'll have many more. We'll make sure of it."

Sarah nodded, her smile warm. "You're one of us now. And we take care of our own."

Monica felt tears prick at her eyes, overwhelmed by the sense of belonging. She had found her family, her tribe, her sisters in slutdom.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you all."

Carrie raised her glass. "To Monica. The newest member of our little sisterhood."

"To Monica," Laura and Sarah echoed.

Monica raised her glass, her heart full. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew it would be filled with pleasure, with surrender, with the love of these incredible women.

The wine had loosened everyone's tongues, and the conversation had drifted into more intimate territory. Monica found herself sharing details she hadn't even fully processed herself, the words tumbling out as she relived the sensations.

"There was something about the arse fucking," Monica said, her voice thoughtful. "When Liam and Samuel did it that first morning. It hurt at first—really hurt. I thought I was going to tear in half."

Sarah winced sympathetically. "It can be intense the first time."

"But the thing is," Monica continued, a slow smile spreading across her face, "I actually enjoyed the pain. It made me more horny. The more it hurt, the more I wanted it. By the time they were both inside me, I was dripping wet, begging for more."

Laura raised an eyebrow, a knowing look crossing her face. "Interesting."

Carrie leaned forward, her eyes sharp with interest. "You enjoyed the pain?"

Monica nodded, feeling a little self-conscious but also exhilarated by the admission. "Yes. It wasn't just about being filled. It was about being... overwhelmed. Taken past my limits. The pain was part of the pleasure."

Carrie set down her wine glass, her expression turning serious but warm. "Monica, what you're describing sounds like you might be a BDSM submissive."

Monica's heart skipped. "A submissive?"

"Think about it," Carrie said. "You love being used. You love not being in charge. You love being pushed past your limits, even when it hurts. That's classic submissive behavior."

Sarah nodded, adding, "And the fact that the pain turns you on instead of scaring you off? That's a pretty strong indicator."

Monica sat back, letting the words sink in. She'd never thought of herself that way, but the more she considered it, the more it made sense. Every experience she'd had—being passed between men, being filled in every hole, being covered in cum—had been about surrender. About letting go of control and letting someone else take over.

"I think you might be right," she said softly. "I've never wanted to be in charge. Not in the bedroom anyway. I just want to... give myself over."

Laura smiled, a warm, approving look. "That's a beautiful thing to realize about yourself. And it opens up a whole new world of possibilities."

Monica felt a thrill run through her. "Like what?"

"Like scenes," Carrie said. "Proper BDSM scenes with rules and safewords and aftercare. Being tied up, being spanked, being used in ways that push you even further. It's not just about getting fucked—it's about the dynamic, the trust, the surrender."

Monica's mind raced with possibilities. "I want to learn more."

"And you will," Carrie said. "We'll take it slow. But I think you're going to love discovering this side of yourself."

The conversation drifted to other topics, but Monica's mind kept returning to the idea of submission. It felt right, like a missing piece of herself had finally clicked into place.

Later, as Laura and Sarah were gathering their things to leave, Carrie pulled Monica aside.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Carrie asked, her voice soft.

Monica nodded, following her into the kitchen. "What's up?"

Carrie leaned against the counter, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It's about Oliver."

Monica's eyebrows rose. "Your toyboy?"

"Yes," Carrie said, a small smile playing on her lips. "He's been asking about you. Quite a lot, actually."

Monica felt a flutter in her chest. "Really?"

"Really," Carrie said. "He was very impressed with you the other night. He said you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. And he wanted to know if you'd be interested in meeting him. Maybe on a date."

Monica's heart raced. She remembered Oliver's lean toned body, his dark hair, the way he'd fucked her arse so thoroughly. The memory sent a shiver through her.

"A date?" she repeated. "Like... a real date?"

Carrie laughed. "Yes, a real date. Dinner, conversation, maybe some kissing. He's thoroughly smitten, Monica. He wants to get to know you outside of the bedroom."

Monica didn't know what to say. She'd never considered dating one of the men who'd used her. But the thought of Oliver, of his hands on her in a different context, made her pulse quicken.

"I don't know," she said, her voice uncertain. "I've had some bad experiences with guys "

"So had I, before Carl," Carrie said. "But sometimes the best relationships start in the strangest places. And Oliver is a good lad. He'll treat you right, and he's a horny fucker too."

Monica took a deep breath, considering. "What do you think? Should I do it?, after all he's your toyboy"

Carrie smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I think you should. You deserve to be cherished, Monica. Not just used. And Oliver wants to cherish you. We'll share him, after all we are sluts"

Monica felt a warmth spread through her chest. "Okay," she said, her voice soft. "Tell him yes."

Carrie's smile widened. "I'll give him your number. He'll be thrilled."

Monica walked back to the living room, her mind spinning with possibilities. She was a slut, a submissive, and now, maybe, someone's date and maybe future partner. The future had never looked brighter.