Ella had been to this house hundreds of times. It was a three-storey townhouse just North of London, converted into a student home in the mid-1990s.

With two large bedrooms on each floor, two bathrooms, a pretty decent kitchen and living room, and a reasonably big garden, it was perfect for that lifestyle despite falling a little bit into disrepair.

She had lost count of the fun times she’d had between those four walls. Now in her third year at uni, aged 20, she’d had drunken one-night stands, witnessed ridiculous fights and pranks, pulled all-nighters studying and partying. She’d seen and done it all ... at least, she thought she had.

The house was busy. There were probably around 40 people there, too many to keep track of, to be honest. The kitchen and living room were the hives of activity, but people were off in other rooms having casual sex and doing drugs — everything you’d expect from a group of teenagers/early-20s students.

Ella was chatting to one of her best friends in the kitchen, drinking a beer straight from the bottle. The room was loud with overlapping conversations, the faint bass of music thumping through the walls. The sharp tang of spilt beer mixed with the faint smoke drifting in from the garden. Someone was laughing loudly nearby, the sound cutting through the buzz of chatter like a spark.

Ella felt at ease, the kind of comfort that came from knowing every nook and cranny of the place. She wasn’t expecting anything special tonight, another typical student party.

She was wearing a cute outfit — a long-sleeved white tank top with thin, horizontal black stripes across it over a soft, unstructured white lace bralette, a short black denim skirt and transparent black tights, and black and white sneakers. She’d picked the outfit for comfort more than anything else, but it didn’t escape her notice of how well it suited her. The tight, cropped tank top hugged her petite frame, and the short black denim skirt showed off just enough leg to keep things interesting. She wasn’t trying to attract attention, but she was clearly getting it.

Her wavy blonde hair was up in a short ponytail, and winged eyeliner, mascara, subtle eyeshadow, and gorgeous red lipstick accented her beautiful blue eyes.

She looked hot. Really, really hot. Her petite body, with wide hips and an ample butt, and her small but perfectly perky boobs were all standing out, drawing the eye of anyone at the party.

In particular, she was drawing eyes from across the kitchen. She laughed at something her friend said, tilting her head back slightly, her ponytail swaying with the motion. It was then she felt it — a prickling sensation, as if someone was watching her.

Or rather, not someone, but several someones.

She glanced casually over the lip of her beer bottle and saw them: four pairs of unwavering male eyes fixed on her from across the kitchen. Her stomach did a little flip, and she quickly looked away, heat rising to her cheeks.

She kept looking over out of the corner of her eye. Her friend’s words became a blur, drowned out by the magnetic pull of those four sets of eyes across the room. She could feel their attention like a physical weight, their gazes roving up and down her body, pausing as if lingering on each curve. It wasn’t just a passing glance — it was deliberate, calculated, and completely unabashed.

Her stomach fluttered, a mix of flattery and nervous energy, as her mind began to race. Why were they staring? What were they thinking? What did they want? The questions came faster than she could answer, each adding to the warmth rising in her chest.

She smiled, just barely, the corner of her lips curling in a flirtatious tease. Her fingers tightened slightly around the beer bottle, and she brought it to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip. The cool glass pressed against her mouth felt grounding, a stark contrast to the heat simmering inside her. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but the way she tilted the bottle and let her tongue graze the rim felt ... suggestive. Maybe it was for their benefit. Perhaps it wasn’t. But it felt good.

She still wasn’t expecting anything to happen. This was just harmless fun, right? A playful moment that would melt away like so many others. The thing is — she didn’t want it to melt away. She wanted to see where it would lead...

Ella excused herself, knowing that leaving the room would mean walking past the four guys. She hoped it would prompt an interaction, especially if she looked at them as she walked past.

She put down her drink, glancing over to make sure they were still watching (which, of course, they were), and then walked confidently but slowly past them, making sure to give them all her best angles.

As she walked past, she heard one of them call out to her, “Hey, has anyone ever told you you really stand out?”

She didn’t know what to say, turning toward them, making eye contact as he spoke again.

“You could be the star of the show.”

Ella was confused — what was he talking about? Star of the show?

“Excuse me?” she replied apprehensively. She looked at the guys more closely and realized just how attractive they all were. Her stomach fluttered as their collective attention fixed on her, magnetic and intense.

“Yeah, you’ve got something. Magnetic. We’ve all been staring all night. You know that, right?” he replied, his voice casual but deliberate. “Why don’t you come with us?”

Ella’s mind raced. This was crazy — she didn’t even know these guys. But something about the way he looked at her, the confidence in his voice, made her stomach flutter. Her pulse quickened as she hesitated, unsure whether to follow instinct or logic. And then, before she could overthink it, her hand was already in his, and he led her out of the room.

The hallway was cooler than the kitchen and quieter, too; the sound of music and voices faded into the background as he led her away. Her sneakers scuffed lightly against the wooden floor, the echo of each step adding to the surreal feeling blooming in her chest.

Before long, he opened the door to an empty bedroom, stepping inside with his three friends in tow.

Ella stepped into the room nervously but with great anticipation and, dare she admit it, excitement. She had never been in a position like this before in her life. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the lump in her throat rose and fell with every shallow breath.

She wasn’t sure what had brought her here-curiosity, excitement, or something darker she didn’t want to name. But now, standing in front of them, she could feel it: the magnetic pull of their attention, like gravity itself had shifted around her.

It was dark. The ceiling light dimmed almost as low as it could go, and only ambient light from the street leaked in from the window.

The air was cooler here, carrying the faint scent of old wood and the lingering musk of the party outside. The dim light softened the edges of the furniture, casting long shadows across the walls. Even the muffled bass from the kitchen seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of her unsteady breathing.

She walked toward the wall at the far end and turned around to see the four strangers facing her, the door closing softly behind them. A lump formed in her throat as she realized something was going to happen now, something she couldn’t predict. For a few seconds, the room was silent. She could hear a pin drop, and she focused on the sound of her breath as she looked at the boys who were staring back at her.

“What ... what now?” she asked with a faint whisper. “I’m here. What do you want to do now?”

“Relax,” one of them said, stepping toward her with an easy confidence. “You’ll be the star of the show in no time. Just follow our lead.”

He moved closer and placed his hand on her waist, his touch firm but grounding. As he leaned in and kissed her neck, she felt her body tense at first, her mind screaming at her to pull away. But the heat of his breath against her skin and the shiver that raced down her spine silenced the voice. Her eyes closed for a few seconds, surrendering to the moment.

When she opened them again, she felt more hands on her body-cupping her breasts, grazing across her ass, squeezing, caressing.

Each touch sent waves of sensation cascading through her, her body responding before her mind could catch up.

Her knees felt weak, her breaths shallow, as she let herself be swept under. Her thoughts dissolved into a flood of heat pooling low in her belly, her arousal undeniable.

Their touch grew bolder by the second, the heat of their palms leaving trails of sensation across her skin.

She gasped softly as one hand slipped under her top, fingers grazing her hard, sensitive nipples underneath her bralette. Another slipped between her legs, teasing her sopping wet pussy through her lace panties.

“See? You’re a natural,” one of them said, his voice low and teasing in her ear. “You love being the centre of attention, don’t you?”

Another voice followed, smoother and dripping with amusement. “Check this out, she’s fucking soaking wet. Have you felt this pussy? We’re going to have some fun with this one, boys.”

Ella’s cheeks flushed hot, her breath catching as her body betrayed her. She could feel her nipples hardening under their touch, the lace of her bralette doing little to shield her growing arousal. Her knees felt weaker with every passing second, and she found herself leaning against the wall for support.

“You’re perfect,” someone murmured, their words both soothing and provocative. “We’re really going to make you feel special, girl.”

She bit her lip, unsure whether the faint whimper that escaped her throat was one of resistance or surrender. The line between the two blurred further with every squeeze, every caress. She felt her body responding, a wave of arousal passing over her.

“Good girl,” another voice whispered, his words making her shiver. “Just let go. You’re the star of the show now.”

Their hands worked in unison- exploring, testing, claiming- as their voices wrapped around her like a cocoon of encouragement and teasing. Ella had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so desperately wanted. Fingers slipped underneath her bralette now, feeling her naked breasts. They wandered beneath her panties, too, playing with her swollen clit, sliding inside her tight, wet pussy.

Eight hands, all touching, feeling, caressing her at the same time. Getting rougher. Getting more intense.

Their words intensified, too. “Slut, perfect little whore, our own little porn star.” She loved every second of it, swept away in the intensity of it all.

Her pulse thudded in her ears, and her breathing turned shallow as she realized there was no turning back.

The boys had begun to undress her — pulling off her tights and throwing them across the room, along with her panties. The cool air of the room drew her attention to how wet her thighs were, how engulfed she had become in her arousal.

They had pulled off her top, too, throwing that somewhere across the room as well. Her bralette was the last to go — not removed, just pulled down to her midriff, exposing those perfect little tits. She shivered, her nipples hardening instantly under their gaze. She felt their eyes rove over her, and the weight of their collective attention sent a fresh surge of heat through her body.

One of the guys stepped back slightly, his hand sliding down her arm until it reached her wrist. He tugged gently, guiding her away from the wall. Her legs felt shaky, her body almost moving on instinct as he lowered her to her knees in the centre of the room.

“There you go,” he murmured, his voice laced with approval. “Show us how much you’re enjoying this. Make yourself cum for us.”

She hesitated for a moment, her hands hovering in her lap as she looked up at the four of them. Their eyes were locked on her, expectant and filled with something primal that sent a new wave of heat rushing through her. She felt a lump in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears as she took a slow, shaky breath. One of them nodded encouragingly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on. Do it. We’re all waiting.”

Her lips parted as she swallowed hard. Her hand moved between her thighs, and she let her fingertips trail upward, feeling the wet heat of her gaping pussy. Her cheeks burned as she realized just how wet she was. The moment she made contact with her slick, swollen flesh, a gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, the rest of the room fading as she began slowly, deliberately circling her fingers.

The boys didn’t stay quiet for long. Their voices surrounded her, teasing and goading as they watched her. Their eyes fixated on the erotic, pornographic sight in front of her.

“Look at you,” one of them said, his tone almost reverent. “You’re loving this, aren’t you? You sexy little slut.”

“She’s perfect,” another added. “Keep going. Don’t stop. Put on a show for us. You’re a natural.”

The sound of zippers being pulled caught her attention, and she opened her eyes just enough to see them freeing themselves, their hard cocks already in their hands. They began stroking themselves slowly, their eyes never leaving her.