Womanized

by Nikki Crescent

  And I got immediate attention. It wasn’t even a minute before men were begging to buy me drinks. Of course I let them—but I knew I had to be careful. I could drink my head off inside of the simulation, but in real life, I could get drunk. And in real life, the repercussions were real. So I paced myself, sipping my drinks slowly. But they just kept coming. I couldn’t hold a half-finished drink for more than five minutes before someone was thrusting a new one in my face. The buzz came quickly. The night started to become a haze. I wobbled slightly in my high heels, but I managed to stay on my feet. Someone put a new drink in my hand but I didn’t sip it. I knew it was time to go. I wasn’t used to being so visible. It was going to take some getting used to.

  I sobered up a bit on my walk home. And once that heavy haze faded away, I realized I was walking with a man. He was almost a whole foot taller than me and he had his arm over my shoulders. I looked up into his blue eyes and he smiled at me. Then I had the urge to say, “I’m not really a woman, you know.”

  He laughed and said, “I know—you’ve told me fifteen times now.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked, realizing we weren’t actually headed to my place.

  “My apartment. We’ll have a drink and hangout for a bit. You wanted to watch that new Netflix show.”

  He lived in a nice high rise, up near the top floor. His apartment had floor-to-ceiling windows all around, and a big television that was probably worth more than my car. “What do you think of my place?” he asked as he turned to me. I looked at him as my heart fluttered. I tried to remember if this really was real, or if I was in the simulation again. The night had been too much fun—it couldn’t have possibly been real. Maybe when I was on the phone with Smith Gadgets, they actually agreed to give me Michael’s simulation back. Maybe I was just experiencing that simulation confusion again—maybe I just wasn’t as used to it as I thought I was after weeks of going in and out of that simulated state.

  “Are you okay?” the man asked.

  I looked into his eyes again and then I leaned forward, up on the tips of my toes, and I kissed him. He kissed back, slipping his hands gently on my sides. He moved those hands up and down with a sensual sort of pressure. And right away, it felt nothing like a simulation. Over the past few weeks, I’d fucked many simulations: male and female. But none of them touched me like that. None of them moved their hands in such a sensual way. None of my simulated romps were intimate like this.

  We went over to the bed and he laid me down. He pulled up my skirt and then he pulled down my panties, exposing my clean-shaven cock. He grabbed it gently and massaged it firmly. Then he bent down and started sucking. No simulation sucked me like that. No simulation had a tongue that moved like that. I ended up grabbing two handfuls of bed sheets as my knees rose up high. “Oh God,” I groaned as pleasure overwhelmed my body. He slipped my cock out from his mouth and he moved down lower, bringing that tongue to my asshole. He started eating me out, getting me wet and ready for the huge cock I knew he was hiding in his jeans.

  “That feels so good,” I said.

  “Just wait,” he said with a grin.

  Then he stood up and began to undo his belt. My erection was throbbing on my skirt, already halfway towards its climax. I watched as he dropped his pants to the ground, letting his curved shaft flip up, slapping him in the abdomen before wobbling and settling into place. He was big—making my heart skip a beat. “Don’t worry—I’ll be gentle,” he said. He climbed up on top of me. I reached down to feel his cock. It was warm and hard and pulsing. I pulled back his foreskin and then I rubbed his shaft against mine.

  “Is it real?” I asked.

  He laughed. “What?” he said.

  “I mean—is this real? Or is this a simulation?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “It just seems to good to be true,” I said.

  “Well as far as I can tell, it’s real. Does it feel real?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I said.

  He pressed his tip against my wet asshole. He took a deep breath, and then he pushed it into me, making me gasp. I clenched my hole tight and I started to groan and squirm. I felt a little bit of pain, but it went away quickly. And never in those simulations did I ever feel pain. I don’t even think it’s possible to feel pain in a simulation. So maybe this was real. It sure felt real. I could feel his veins throbbing inside of me—it doesn’t get much more real than that.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “I think it’s real,” I said, biting down on the bottom corner of my lip.

  “And is that good?” he asked.

  “Yeah, it’s good. It’s really good,” I said.

  He started pumping me—slowly at first, but enough to make me scream. I clutched the bed sheets and squashed my knees into his ripped torso. He reached down and grabbed my cock with his big, strong hand. He started to jerk it while he pumped me, sending me to a whole new dimension of pleasure.

  He pumped me faster and faster. He started groaning and I could feel his cock swelling. I wanted him to last longer, but I figured I was going to stay the night, so maybe we would have another go at it later. I reached around and grabbed tightly onto his ass. “Fuck me harder!” I yelled. He slammed down into me with force. He let go of my cock, but that didn’t stop it from coming a minute later, spewing warm, white cum all over my little outfit.

  He filled my ass a moment later. His load was enormous. When he pulled out, it all rushed out and pooled down between my butt cheeks. He reached down with a finger and grabbed a glob. He brought it to my lips, and I licked it off. “Again in fifteen minutes?” he asked.

  “Sure,” I said.

  He got up and put on a robe. “I’m supposed to go to Paris tomorrow,” he said. “You should come with me. I mean—I know that we barely know each other—but maybe it could be fun.”

  “What are you doing in Paris?” I asked.

  “Some red carpet event. I have to do a signing tomorrow night, but otherwise I’ll be free.” And that’s when I realized I recognized him. He was a movie star. I’d seen him in a few comedy movies.

  “I’d love to come,” I said. And now there was a smile suck on my face that refused to go away. I suddenly felt bad for that Michael fellow. He was probably in his bed day and night living out his expensive simulation. Meanwhile, I was out living his fantasy, feeling all of that excitement for real. Accidentally getting his simulation unit was quite possibly the best thing that had ever happened to me.

  THE END

  SPIN THE BOTTLE

  Devon is excited after receiving a personal invitation to a party at Jimmy’s house. For a decade, the most epic parties have taken place within those legendary walls, and finally, Devon is going to be a part of that fabled history.

  But he’s hesitant. Devon doesn’t have many friends and he isn’t on any sports teams like the guys who normally get invited to that legendary party house—so why Devon? He’s even more nervous when he shows up and finds a quiet house with only six other people inside.

  This isn’t one of Jimmy’s normal parties. This is a special, intimate party—in the basement with a bottle, some dice, and some very high stakes.

  CHAPTER I

  Jimmy Parker’s house—a house I’d driven by many, many times. But never had I been invited inside.

  It was a legendary house, at least as far as our school was concerned. For ten years, all of the greatest parties took place inside of those walls. Jimmy’s oldest brother, who was ten years Jimmy’s senior, started the tradition, throwing epic parties whenever their parents were out of town. Jimmy’s older sister carried on the tradition, throwing parties that were so epic, they made the news when police had to come and shut them down. And now, Jimmy had taken the torch. He’d thrown three crazy parties—parties that were so memorable, people talked about them for months.

  I’d never been invited to a party inside of that house—until now. It was Friday night, and I was finally about to cross a t
hreshold that only the coolest, most fun kids had ever crossed. I was going to walk through those doors with the case of beer that I paid a homeless man to buy for me. I was finally going to be one of the exalted ones. I was going to be one of the students who could say they’d been to one of those historic parties. I didn’t even care if I ended up in jail at the end of the night. I didn’t care if my parents had to bail me out. I didn’t care if the school found out about the party and suspended me along with the rest of the attendees—like they did with Jimmy’s last party. None of that mattered because I was finally going to experience the amazing fun that only happened inside of that house.

  Guys like me never got invited to parties—especially not historic parties like this. These big parties were usually just for the jocks and the cheerleaders, and of course the kids who smoked pot behind the school, because the party obviously needed a supply. The house was huge, but it still had limited space. Only a certain number of people could fit inside, so it only made sense that Jimmy never wanted to waste that space on skinny nerds like me when he could invite guys like Chad Klein or Rex Jones, who knew all of the hot girls from others schools. At the end of the day, the goal was to get girls through that door, and I wasn’t exactly drawing any girls in.

  So of course I was a little bit confused when Jimmy personally walked up to me during lunch and asked if I wanted to come to his party. “Perry had a family emergency, so we’ve got an open slot,” he said, as if he was the GM of some sport’s team. And I have to admit: it felt a bit like being drafted when he asked the question. I think I said yes before he was finished speaking. “I’ll be there!” I said.

  “Just don’t bring any of your friends,” he said. “We have to keep the party small after last time.” And he said it as if I was at his last party. I wondered if he actually thought that I was there, or if he just assumed I knew what happened because everyone knew what happened.

  Apparently, one of the rich jocks thought it would be funny to hire a few thousand dollars worth of escorts to come to the house. Everyone was shocked when the escorts actually showed up, so the jock paid the girls and they all went up to the bedrooms. The next Monday, fifteen different guys showed up to school with herpes on their faces—that’s how the school found out about the whole thing.

  “And don’t tell anyone that the party is happening,” Jimmy said.

  I tried to keep my mouth shut, but I had to tell my friend, Steve. Steve was my closest friend, and I was his only friend, so I wasn’t worried that he would go around telling everyone that I was going to one of Jimmy’s epic bashes. Steve didn’t believe me. “You know, lying isn’t an attractive quality,” he said as he pushed his glasses up from the tip of his nose.

  “I’m not lying. Jimmy asked me himself. I’m going to his party.”

  “Why would he ask you?” Steve asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I did that biology assignment with him last week.” Jimmy and I had been randomly paired together for an assignment. Jimmy was too busy planning his big party to help with the assignment, so I ended up doing the whole thing. So maybe him inviting me was just his way of saying thank you. Maybe he really appreciated all of the work that I did, even though he never actually physically said the words ‘thank you’.

  “It sounds fishy to me,” Steve said.

  “Thanks, Steve,” I replied. But Steve did have a point. I wasn’t going to fit in at the party. I was nearly six inches shorter than the shortest jock that would be there, and every girl at the party would be way out of my league. And maybe they would make fun of me the way they all used to make fun of me back in elementary school, before I started hiding out at lunch and sitting in the back of every class—before I became completely invisible while I was at school.

  “If I were you, I would decline the offer. They probably just need a piñata and you’re the piñata,” Steve suggested.

  “You think they’re going to hang me from the ceiling and whack me with a stick?” I said with a laugh. But the theory didn’t actually sound that ridiculous. What if they did just want to bring me so they could mock me? What if I was just some sort of party joke? I found myself smiling as I thought about that possibility while I sat in my car across from Jimmy’s house. Even if that was the plan, at least I could still say that I went to one of Jimmy’s epic parties.

  CHAPTER II

  I walked up to the door slowly. I was fifteen minutes late on purpose. He said to come at eight, but I didn’t want to be the first to arrive. I suppose you could say that I was ‘fashionably late’. I took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. I was surprised by the silence of the night. I couldn’t hear the booming of music inside and I couldn’t hear any screaming coming from the backyard, where the swimming pool was (I took a peek at the house on Google Maps). Half of the lights in the house weren’t even on. Maybe I had the wrong time—or maybe I had the wrong date. Or maybe Jimmy was just messing with me when he invited me over. Maybe there was no party at all.

  I rang the bell a second time as my heart began to swirl down into my stomach. Was I set up? Why me? Was Jimmy standing with his friends on the other side of that door, snickering and making fun of me? Instead of ringing the bell a third time, I knocked. And then it dawned on me that the door was probably unlocked, and I was probably supposed to simply let myself inside. So I reached for the handle and I turned it, but it was locked.

  “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. Now I was regretting telling Steve about the invite. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Now, I had to embarrassingly tell Steve that there was no party, that it was all just a joke, and that he was right. Why did I think that Jimmy would personally invite me to one of his epic parties? Why did I think that—

  The door opened suddenly. Jimmy was standing there, wearing a dress shirt and pressed jeans. He had his blonde hair slicked back. “You’re late, Devon,” he said. He moved aside as if to let me in. But I didn’t move. I looked around, still not sure if the invite was serious. Where was the party? The house was quiet and there was no one there except for him.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “What do you mean, am I sure?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “I said to be here at eight. It’s almost eight-thirty.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, looking around. “Did I miss the party?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “No. We’re just in the other room. C’mon. You’re letting all the hot air out.”

  I stepped in and Jimmy closed the door. I was standing in the grand foyer of the house. I’d never seen it before, but I’d heard stories. I looked up at the chandelier. Apparently Trevor Morrice swung from that chandelier, trying to get from one balcony to the other. He ended up falling and breaking his leg—and he wasn’t the only one who broke a leg that night.

  I saw the large dining room table in the dining room to our right. That was the infamous Beer Pong table. Supposedly, all of the senior girls played a game of Strip Beer Pong, which ended with all of them topless. Natalie Dorian—the girl I had a crush on in the ninth grade—was apparently completely naked. I heard that she had a thick bush that looked like it had never even been trimmed. People laughed about it, but honestly, it only made me hornier when I thought about her. I stopped having a crush on her when I heard that she let half of the school’s basketball team fuck her in her hairy snatch, and then she ended up contracting that same strain of herpes that all the guys got from the escorts.

  Jimmy led me through the kitchen. I’d seen pictures of that kitchen on Instagram: pictures of those counters covered from one end to the other with large bottles of hard liquor. Now, the counters were clear, except for a bottle of bourbon, a bottle of vodka, and two cases of Budweiser. “Feel free to get a drink while you’re here,” Jimmy said. “There’s also coke and soda water in the fridge.”

  Everything about the party seemed so underwhelming. Where were all the people? Where were the beautiful girls stripping down and getting drunk? Where was all the booze? Why wasn’t t
here any music playing?

  I put my own case of beer down on the counter and grabbed one of my own cans. “That’s all you want?” Jimmy asked.

  “For now, I guess,” I said.

  Now Jimmy was walking towards the basement stairwell. I followed him with my beer. “So what kind of party is this?” I asked.

  Jimmy turned and looked at me. He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s Kat’s birthday party,” he said.

  “Kat?” I asked.

  “Don’t you know Kat? I thought you and Kat were friends. That’s why I invited you.” He stared into my eyes, making me feel like a complete loser. I didn’t know a Kat. Was there even a Kat in our school? What would Jimmy think when he realized I didn’t know this Kat chick? Would he ask me to leave? Would he never invite me to another one of his parties?

  Suddenly, Jimmy started laughing. “I’m just fucking with you, Devon. Jesus—loosen up a little bit.” He gave me a pat on the back. I tried to force a laugh.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said.

  “Sorry for what?” He was looking at me again. And what was I sorry for? Falling for his joke? Being tense? “Just relax. We’re just having fun tonight. No talking about classes or homework or college applications or SATs.” I couldn’t think of any other topics of conversation, but I nodded my head and smiled anyway. Then I followed Devon down into the basement.

  All of the basement windows were covered with sheets. The lights were all dimmed and there was still no noise, as if there was no party at all. This whole thing was starting to seem like a big joke. So I took a big, long sip from my beer, hoping the alcohol would cut some of the edge. We came around a corner and Jimmy walked up to a door at the end of the dark hallway. “Come on in,” he said. He opened the door, revealing six people sitting on a large sectional couch: four girls and two guys.

  Natalie was one of the girls. And sitting next to her was Anne Berkley, the blonde captain of the cheerleading squad. I recognized the other two girls—two little brunettes—but I didn’t know their names, or even if they were in the same grade as me.