It is another boring party. I don’t even know why I bothered going. The usual preening prima donnas are there, the infuriating cliques with their adoring gaggle of followers and simpering hangers-on.

And then I see you.

You're standing leaning against the wall. My eyes travel up your petite frame. Converse boots, over the knee black socks, little black skater skirt and a white tee shirt with a pink heart on it. The collar is new but other than that you look exactly the same as last time I’d seen you, almost a year earlier. You still have that cute little asymmetrical bob. Your big dark eyes stare up at me as I stand in front of you.

“Hello Kitty,” I whisper.

Your eyes widen as you recognise me.

“I’m not allowed to talk to you.”

I grin, looking around the room. I turn back to face you, my finger stroking your collar.

“Are you being a good girl?” 

My tongue moistens my lips at the memory of you back then. A schoolgirl pretending to be more grown-up than you were. 

“Don’t.” Your eyes flicker with something as your lips part and you whisper, pleadingly, "Please."

My lips brush your neck as I whisper the enquiry in your ear.

“Does your Mistress think I’m a bad influence on you?” 

The small silver stud glistens, reflecting the disco lights someone had set up on the fireplace.

“Yessssssss!”

The words escape your mouth as my fingers touch that sweet spot on your thigh between the top of your over-the-knee socks and the hem of your skirt.

“I c-c-c-c-can’t” you stammer, eyes pleading as I gaze at you.

“You know I want you still,” I whisper. That much was true. 

I had wanted you so much. The rush every time we fucked. Fast, raw, illicit sex in your bedroom while your mother was at work and you were supposed to be in school. 

My fingers slip under your skirt, tracing the elastic of the damp cotton. I wonder if you have grown out of the ‘Hello Kitty’ panties you used to wear. I remember watching the wet patch spreading over the cartoon face as I snapped your legs open. Running my tongue up your thigh as you squirmed, gasping, begging, pleading to be taken on your bed. Your collection of teddy bears scattered in the corner from being thrown off the bed by you when we crashed into the room as I tugged your clothes off.

“Not here,” you beg and I smile, knowing your shaky defences have already crumbled.

I drag my finger between your legs, feeling your heat and dampness as I watch your eyes glaze over. Your mouth opens and a low guttural whimper escapes your lips.

I glance down at your chest. The swell of your little boobs hardly makes an impression but your nipples betray you. Your pink nipples were always so sensitive. I can feel my own panties getting damp as I recall how you would whimper and arch your back when my teeth grazed the hard pink flesh.

“You won’t tell, will you?” you whisper, eyes darting from left to right, checking to make sure none of her little kittens are around to tell tales on you.

“Of course not,” I reassure you. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

My finger slowly circles around your mound, pressing the cotton material against your sex. With a flick of my finger, I drag it up over your clit and bring my finger to my lips.

You know that I can taste you on my finger as you watch. I suck my middle finger into my mouth, savouring this first illicit taste.

“You are so delicious,” I whisper. “Follow me.”

I turn and walk off, heading towards the bathroom. I’m hoping you follow. I can imagine the conflict in your head. Obey your Mistress or obey your desires.

I remember the last thing you told me as you stood, tears in your eyes, trying to explain that you’d got yourself in too deep. You couldn’t handle the intensity of feelings I had unleashed inside you. 

“So it’s my fault?” I’d snarled at you. “Well, fuck you, then.” 

If I'm brutally honest, I hadn’t handled the rejection well. I’d deleted you from my phone, erased all messages. It was an almost soviet style rewriting of history but now here you are and I want you all over again.

I walk slowly enough for you to see where I’m going. The bathroom door closes behind me but I don't lock it. I wait. You were never the speediest.

Finally, the door opens slowly, almost tentatively. You step in, unsure what to do. I push the door closed. The snap of the lock seems to waken you. You look up and I kiss you hard. I push you back against the wall. My fingers tug your tee shirt up, exposing your little buds. I bend my head to suck the left nipple into my mouth.

“Please,” you whimper, but what you are asking for goes unanswered.

I switch my mouth from one nipple to the other and back again. My hands drop, pushing your skirt up. The bright pink cotton panties already have a large damp patch of darker pink. 

“No more Hello Kitty?” I giggle as I run my fingers over the wet crotch.

“Fuckkkk,” you gasp.

My tongue swirls in your mouth as I stare into your eyes. I watch you beg as my fingers snake their way over the damp cotton. The knicker elastic pulled as my hand slips inside, turning to cup your shaved smooth mound. 

My middle finger slides along your slit, opening you from perineum to clit. You whimper into my mouth as I smear your juices over your clit hood, pushing it back, letting the sensitive pearl poke out.

“Please,” you beg again.

My tongue swirls, entwined with yours, One hand grips your hair, holding your face to mine while the other presses against your pussy. My fingers stroke the entrance to your wet velvet, feeling you drip onto my hand.

Two fingers curl as I push them inside you. Your back arches as I take you. I fuck you fast, hurriedly, with no love or passion, just pure lust.

“Please,” you whimper, one last time before whatever you wanted is lost forever as the orgasm overtakes you.

My fingers are gripped inside you as the tips tap on your g spot. You buck and thrash against my hand as you writhe, impaled. My thumb strums your clit as your eyes roll back in your head.

Your knees buckle and as little whimpers escape your lips, you collapse back against the wall.

I wipe my fingers on your neck, marking you with your juices then step back. I look at you one last time as you lean against the wall, whimpering softly. You slowly pull your top down as I turn and unlock the door.

When I open the door, your Mistress stands with her arms folded. A scowl is plastered over her face like the cheap make-up she wears. One of her little pets stands behind her, almost bouncing from one foot to another at the thought of being rewarded for telling on you.

I smile sweetly as I walk past her, putting my finger in my mouth, and tasting her kitten’s flavour on my tongue.