Courier at a bachelorette party

The girls and I rented an apartment for the weekend to have a good time. We had it all: plenty of booze, revealing outfits, and no men within a kilometer, because we'd decided it would be just us girls this weekend. No sappy courtship or disappointments. We planned to chat until the early hours, watch porn, discuss our adventures, and indulge ourselves in every way. By Saturday evening, we were already pretty warm when we realized there was nothing left to eat. We ordered pizza and rolls. Well, ordering by courier is sacred; you can't drag yourself to the store when you're already in a robe and with a glass. When the doorbell rang, I didn't even think about putting on anything more decent. I went to answer it in a short silk robe with nothing underneath. And there was a boy at the door. Not a man, but a boy. Fresh-faced, about twenty years old, with such a stupid, confused smile. He saw me, blushed like a girl, and started mumbling something about an order. "Come on in, what are you standing there for?" I say, but I can already feel something predatory waking up inside me. He came in and put the boxes on the nightstand. His hands were shaking. His eyes were darting, but I noticed him glance at my breasts, which were almost spilling out of my robe. And then it clicked in my head: why not? The girls had already left the room, looking at him and smiling. Lenka, the most daring, immediately walked up and stood behind him, blocking his way to the door. "Are you in a hurry?" I ask, leaning forward a little so he can see better. He blushed even more and mumbled that he had other orders to deliver. Ridiculous. We, of course, didn't let him go anywhere. "We're having a girls' night out here," I say, "and I see you're a polite guy. Will you help us out? Like a man, I guess." The boy shook his head and started to back away. Lenka pushed him into the room. Kristina had already lowered her top strap and walked up to him, took his hand, and placed it on her chest. He flinched as if he'd been electrocuted. "Why are you so wild?" Alice laughed. "Have girls never petted you before?" We surrounded him in a tight circle. Seven hungry bitches and one scared delivery boy. The perfect setup. I came up behind him and grabbed him sharply by the fly. His dick was already hard, despite all his "don't" and "let go." Of course, you say one thing and mean another. “Look, our boy doesn’t mind,” I announced, stroking him through the fabric. The girls began to chatter, approvingly and in unison. Someone brought cold champagne from the kitchen, someone turned off the overhead light, leaving only a reddish glow. They quickly threw him onto the couch. While he was kicking like a kitten stuck in water, I pulled down his pants. Without underwear, by the way. Now that was more interesting. His cock was erect, wet at the tip. Alice was the first to climb on him. She simply straddled him and impaled herself on him, not even giving him time to recover. He moaned, but we held him down. Kristina sat on his face, without asking whether he wanted it or not. I stood next to him, stroking his head like a master petting a misbehaving dog. "You see," I say, "and you were afraid. A good bitch, obedient." We passed him from hand to hand. The girls took turns sucking him off, someone openly jerked off to his moans. He no longer resisted. He even nodded. And then Natasha remembered she had a robe belt in her bag. Well, a long, silky one. "Maybe we should punish the boy?" she suggested. We exchanged glances. Everyone liked the idea. They tied his hands behind his back. He didn't struggle anymore, only breathed heavily and looked up at us. And there was more excitement in that look than fear. Natasha adjusted the belt between his legs like a light harness and tugged, teasing his balls. He groaned, and it wasn't protest anymore, but pure lust. I grabbed him by the hair and forced him onto my finger with my mouth. - Suck it, bitch. Maybe we'll even pass you around. The girls were laughing, but they were laughing contentedly, like cats. Some of them were already masturbating, watching the scene. I felt everything boiling inside. Power, complete control, his submissive face, and our hands, going wherever they wanted. Towards morning, we left him lying on the carpet. He barely blinked anymore, just staring at the ceiling and smiling, as if stunned. Christina came over, leaned over, and whispered in his ear: - So, now do you know what a real bachelorette party is? He didn't answer. He just nodded. And we went to drink coffee, heatedly discussing which of us would be the first to offer to repeat it.