Queen Bee

In any society there is an in group and the others. School, work, friends – these are all little societies in their own way and each has their own in group. The same thing applies to university life, which is where I'm currently at. And where I am, that's where the in group is, because I define the in group.

I'm the Queen Bee, and everything circles around me. (Actually, my name's Bea, but I prefer Bee.) I've got beauty and boobs, brains and boys. The boys hang around me because of the first two items. The girls hang around because of the latter two – the last mainly.

I'm also charismatic, popular with everyone. No-one tries to upstage me. Not twice, anyway. The girls know damn well that if they try to upstage me they'll be on the outer, looking in. The boys, they know if I put the word out none of the girls in the in crowd would dream of dating them. Too hazardous to their position in the in group.

I don't have a specific boyfriend. I like to keep several of them hanging around. I can treat them like dirt and they just lap it up. If one looks like slipping the leash before I'm ready to let him go I flash some cleavage and pay him a bit of dedicated attention. He won't even notice when I fasten the choke collar on him and bring him to heel.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not having sex with these guys. Gosh, I won't even be eighteen until next week. I'm just using them for practice. After I turn eighteen, we'll see. Depend on what's in it for me before I'll agree to have sex. I wouldn't want the boys to think I'm too easy. Not much chance of that, I think. A little cleavage and they all turn into idiots.

My eighteenth birthday was on a Saturday, and everything changed that day. I'd barely got out of bed and John, one of my current beaus, was on the line. He wished me a happy birthday and had a favour to ask. He knew I was going to the mall to do some shopping that morning. (I had birthday money that was just waiting to be spent.) Could I drop past his place on the way to the mall? I'd be passing his place so it shouldn't be a problem and he had something he wanted to give me.

No problem as far as I was concerned. I was curious as to what sort of present he had for me. (I was also wondering what my other beaus would get me. It's nice to be eighteen and have young men vying for your attention.)

Later that morning I was approaching John's place when I ran into Paul, another beau. He wished me a happy birthday and asked if I was on my way to John's place. I told him I was and he laughed.

"Me, too," he said. "I was hoping to get there before you. I want to see your face when John lets you have his present. I'm contributing to it, you know."

I was really interested now. If both John and Paul had chipped in to get me something it should be something decent. I was almost dancing as I went along.

"Just knock and go in," Paul said when we reached John's. "They are expecting you, after all."

"They?" I asked.

"I think Mike and Adam will also be there. We sort of got together when discussing your birthday, wanting to get you the perfect present."

Now I was really smiling. Four young men wanting to flatter me and a mysterious present. I knocked on the door and kept right on going. Just inside the door there was this big sign, all decorated.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE QUEEN BEE.

YOU'RE EIGHTEEN.

I laughed and then the boys were there congratulating me. I was thanking them with a big smile, throwing back my shoulders a little to emphasise my cleavage. Knowing I was stopping at John's place I'd made sure I was showing a nice cleavage. The least I could do if I was getting a present, don't you think?

"I bet you're wondering what we're giving you," said John with a big smile.

I admitted that I was curious.

"Well, you're our Queen Bee. We wanted something special that a Queen Bee would expect. Do you know what really makes the Queen Bee stand out in the hive?"

Not really, apart from the fact that she ruled the show.

"Ah, no, not really," I confessed.

"She's the only female in the hive. The males, they're the drones, spend their happy short lives screwing her. Now you're our very own Queen Bee and we're your drones."

With that John unzipped and whips out his cock, which was horribly erect.

I took a step back with a little shriek, to find the other guys were also whipping out their own erections. Suddenly I seemed to be surrounded my men with stiffs.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shrieked.

"You're eighteen," John replied. "We can fuck you now. It was my idea so I'm going first. Bet you didn't expect this sort of a present. You'll find it's great fun."

The hell I would. I was out of there. I spun around to leave and found myself facing Paul and his cock.

"Now just hold on a minute," I said. "This is going to be a case of thank you, but no thank you. If you'll excuse me, you can colour me gone."

They ignored my comment. Adam and Mike grabbed my arms and held me while Paul pulled my skirt up, revealing my panties. John then made a big production of pulling them down, and I didn't even get a good kick at him.

"OK, Bee," John said. "What I'd like to happen now is for Adam and Mike to let you go and you finish undressing on your own. Deal?"

"Get fucked," I yelled at him. "You can just let me go and I'm out of here."

John shrugged and nodded to the guys. They promptly picked me up, lowered me to the carpet and pinned me there. They then each took a turn at removing an article of clothing while the other three held me down. It didn't take long and I was naked. They even took off my shoes.

Apart from stripping me (and making rude comments while doing so) the boys hadn't actually done anything. Mind you, stripping me was bad enough. I'd never been naked in front of a man before, let alone in front of four of them. Now that I was naked, my temporary reprieve was over.

All four of then started touching me and stroking me. Each one of them held an arm or leg in one of their hands while their other hand was busy touching me everywhere. When I mean everywhere I mean just that. Fingers would run through my hair and touch my face, teasingly pulling my lips apart. Hands stroked my breasts and seemed to linger on my nipples. Adam and Paul both played with a nipple at the same time, apparently trying to see which one could get a nipple to stand erect first.

Their hands wandered over my tummy and my thighs. John and Mike were holding my legs and they were holding them well apart, letting them run their hands up the insides of my legs and poking me at the top. For god's sake, I just hadn't realised how sensitive my mound would be to men touching it.

They laughed and chatted and insulted me while touching and stroking. They each found time to lean over me, letting me feel their erections brushing against me. I was squirming and wriggling and swearing at them, all actions that were totally useless.

Finally they let me go, warning me to stay just where I was. I did. I'm not sure if it was because I was scared (I didn't think so – I was feeling more furious that frightened) or because I didn't know what else to do. It's not as though I could jump up and run outside, not without clothes on. At this point I also thought they were playing a rotten joke on me. I didn't think for a moment that they would actually have sex with me. I mean, these were my beaus, my lapdogs, as I thought of them. They wouldn't really hurt me.

I admit my belief took a bit of a beating when I saw that they were all stripping off.

"We originally thought we'd just pin you down while we took turns," John told me, "but we decided that wouldn't be fair, four to one. We finally agreed that we have to take you one on one, and if you can fight any of us off, good luck to you."

I'm like, "What?" and John pounced on me. Literally. One moment he's standing next to me, naked, cock sticking way out in front of him, the next he's dropped down and is landing on top of me.

I screamed and started struggling, wriggling and squirming under him, doing my best to hit him. He was far too strong. He caught my arms and pushed them above my head, holding my wrists in one hand. I couldn't even close my legs. I hadn't guessed that I'd need to and they were still parted when John pounced. (I mean, why would I try to protect my modesty when I was naked and they had all poked me down there anyway.)

With my hands held above my head and John already resting between my thighs I guess I was easy for him. I could feel him fumbling around with my pussy and then this thing was pushing against me.

It is one thing to know about sex in theory. This is the age of the internet. Anyone with even a modicum of curiosity would have checked out some porn on the 'net and I'm just as curious as anybody else.

It's a hell of a different thing when you come face to face with a man's cock for the first time and it's trying to wriggle its way into you. I bucked and squealed and John just laughed as he pushed himself against me. My god, he felt huge. I was struggling and swearing at him, telling him most bitterly what I thought of him, and while I was doing that I could feel him making progress.

Suddenly he was butting up against my hymen and he just pushed harder than ever. Just like that he popped my cherry (to the sound of a painful scream, I might add) and then, while the other guys cheered, he continued pushing his cock inside me.

It seemed to go in for ever. He just kept pushing and pushing and I could feel him going deeper and deeper. I'd seen his damned cock. It had been sticking out in front of him and it hadn't looked that big. It sure felt it though, bashing away at my poor passage and making room for itself. I was actually relieved when I found that he was fully inside me.

I knew what was coming, of course. When he started pumping back and forth I was ready for it, expecting it. It was supposed to be nice. Girls like this, John told me, happily bouncing on me. I've got news for him. It wasn't doing anything for me. I just lay there, feeling him pushing in and out, wanting it to be over.

John just pumped away for a minute or so and then he gasped and gave a few fast pumps and I could feel something splashing inside me and I knew he'd ejaculated into me. It had, I assure you, done nothing for me.

John rolled off me, grinning like a loon, looking real smug. As soon as he let me go I was sitting up, fighting mad, reaching for him. It must have been Paul's turn next because he promptly grabbed me. (Not soon enough. I got in one swipe at John and scratched him nicely. Swine.)

Paul didn't try to push me flat on my back so he could jump me. He rolled me over onto my tummy, grabbing me by the hips and hoisting my bottom into the air. I knew what he wanted and it was easier to just go along with it. Fighting John hadn't got me anything but accolades for amusing them.

Still, I made my protest as Paul stuck me. He didn't just jam it in the way John had, though. He lined up on me and eased his way into me. I was busy squalling and protesting but I could feel the difference. Paul was taking me over just a little bit at a time and it made a huge difference.

Instead of my resenting it I found that I quite liked the sensation, his cock slowly creeping into me and filling me. I could feel myself adjusting to him, fitting myself around him, and what he was doing felt natural and right. I could hardly believe it when I found that his groin was now pressed firmly against me. He'd slipped in so easily, and it felt good.

Now that he was set Paul started his own version of pumping me. He'd pull slowly out, my passage dragging against him then he'd push back in, firmly, but not too hard. His arms were wrapped around me, his hands caressing my breasts, and he was whispering in my ear, calling me sweetheart and urging me to move with him.

His activities felt nice. If this was how a girl was supposed to feel then John had a lot to learn. I found myself going along with Paul's blandishments, rocking on the spot, pushing back to meet him as he drove into me. He kept going, too, pumping on and on, his movements changing from firm to vigorous, but I didn't mind. I was keeping up with him and I was starting to feel excitement as he took me.

I was expecting him to finish at any moment. After all, I only had John's short performance to judge against, but Paul apparently had a lot more stamina or was just a slow-poke. A slow poke was what he would do every so often. He'd pause in his happy dance, pull right back and then sink back into me dead slowly, so slowly that I wanted to yell at him to hurry up and put it in. Then he'd be off again, bouncing against me, my bottom bouncing up and down as I moved with him.

And all the time my excitement was growing. I wasn't complaining about being raped at this stage; I was bouncing along, giving my full cooperation, giving breathy little cries and waiting to see what was next.

What was next was Paul turning into a jack-hammer and really assaulting my poor pussy. I didn't care. I just squealed and did my best to keep up and then I climaxed, my whole body seeming to explode inside me, turning me inside out. I was aware that Paul had groaned and his cock was throbbing inside me as he released himself, but those were minor issues. What mattered was my own climax and I just revelled in it, unable to do anything else.

The trouble with a climax is that you don't know what is happening while you're enjoying it. I slowly came down out of the clouds and started focusing on the world around me. Things sure had changed. I was back to being flat on my back but my legs were lifted so high I was almost bent double and I could see my own pussy. I'm not kidding. I'm looking down and I can see myself, see my lips all pouty and puffy.

I could also see Mike waiting there, his cock resting against my lips. I guess he heard my gasp of shock as he looked at me, grinned, and started pushing forward. I guess he must have learnt something from watching Paul because he pushed into me quite slowly as well, letting me see him entering me, which was quite nerve wracking really. I could feel him inside me and I could see how much more was coming. If John had taken me like this I'd have had a heart attack.

It quickly became apparent to me that Mike should have done a lot more studying of Paul's technique. No sooner was he in me and he was bouncing away at a great rate. At least, I now knew enough to be able to match him, but he was doing too much, too soon.

Yes, I was enjoying it. (After a fashion.) Yes, my excitement was rising again. I was aroused and responding. It wasn't even a conscious decision. My body was saying, cock, in me, bounce. The trouble was I wasn't excited enough. I wasn't aroused enough. He was doing too much, too early. I just knew he wasn't going to last. There's nothing worse than being right when you don't want to be.

Mike finished way too soon, gasping and bouncing and thrashing about as though his last days had come, leaving me unmoved, but horny. A fucking feeble effort, I thought. Or should I say a feeble fucking effort. They should have schools where men can go and learn what to do.

I knew what was next, or thought I did. Adam's turn. While annoyed that I was going to let him have a turn I didn't mind too much. My pussy was agitated and burning, wanting someone to finish what Mike had started. Adam still managed to shock me. Did he promptly pounce and start in on me? Not him.

Would you believe he just laid back, cock pointing skyward. (That's not quite right. When he was lying down his cock was pointing at his chin, but pointing skyward sounds better.)

"Sit," he commands me, waving towards his erection. I stared at him and then looked at the other guys. They were all just looking at me with interest, wanting to see how I'd take this challenge.

So I sat, moving carefully, feeling him adjust the position of his cock so that I sank down onto it. For once I was controlling the way a cock entered me and I took it damned slowly, pleased to note that Adam was actually sweating before I finally settled onto him.

"Fine," said Adam, breathing hard. "Now fuck me."

"What?" I squeaked.

"I'm lazy," he said with this evil smirk. "You must know what to do by now, so start doing it."

Ye gods and little fishes, this was different. Not only was I getting raped but now I had to do the actual raping of myself. Just how lazy can a guy get?

So I started sliding up and down his cock. It's not as easy as it sounds. It's one thing to do it when the man is doing most of the work, sticking it to you and all you have to do is react. Adam was just lying there, and I had to work out how to slide up and down his pole.

I tried just rocking in place and that sort of worked. I could feel the friction and my pussy was perking up and taking notice, but it wasn't anything like those long hard thrusts that Paul had been giving me. I had to experiment, didn't I, trying out different motions, seeing which ones would let me pull up off Adam and sink back down.

Eventually I got something going, lying flat on top of him, flexing my hips to slide up and down. I took it slowly, as slowly as possible, wanting time for my arousal to fully awaken and giving my excitement time to grow. Also, from what I'd seen so far, moving fast made the guy come fast, and I wanted this to last until I was the one coming.

I pushed against him, taking my time, slowly grinding along. For a change, Adam was the one swearing, while I was the one concentrating on getting that cock moving along my passage. A small pleasure that, but you take your wins where you find them.

I managed to drag it out for quite a while, Adam almost writhing under me at the end. I kept on expecting him to scream, grab me, and fuck like a threshing machine, he looked so tense, but he didn't. It was almost as if he had a bet on that he didn't want to lose.

At the end I was the one to scream and start bouncing wildly, a climax hitting me hard. I heard Adam groan and he started bucking under me, finding his own relief.

This time when I came out of my climax I felt nothing but relief. It was finally over. They'd all had their turns and I could get dressed and go.

John reached down and took my hand, helping me to my feet. My legs were feeling distinctly wobbly.

"Just brace yourself against the couch," John told me. "Take a moment while you get your breath back."

"I'll be fine," I insisted, trying to straighten up, and finding his damn hand holding me firmly bent over the couch.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling," he said softly.

I was immediately back to my, "What? Why?" questions.

"Why do you think? You're the Queen Bee and we're all young and healthy. We're ready for round two."

With that he was sliding back into me.

"Don't worry," he tells me. "We've all fired off once. This time we'll be able to take our time and really draw things out. You'll find you'll like it better the second time round."