Made For Sex (45 page)

Fran turned. It was the man she had stared at earlier with the magnetic eyes and beige ponytail. Since he was now sitting so close, she could see that he was enormous, muscular, with wide shoulders, forearms as thick around as her thighs and tremendous hands. He sat stroking the thigh of his soft suede pants. Fran could feel the heat rise to her face. “No,” she whispered.

“It's a ‘don't come' contest. Pretty simple. Each bottom will try to make his or her target climax by doing whatever he or she wants. It will, of course, be mostly cock sucking but you get the idea. CJ lasted eleven minutes at our last party.”

“Go,” someone called and the four contestants began to stroke and fondle their targets. Fran had never seen a man caress another man so her gaze was riveted on the couple at one end.

“You can't imagine the feeling of being so hot, with a hungry mouth on your cock, yet trying with all your concentration to think of anything else. The bottoms will do lots of things to try to break their target's concentration. That's the way the bottom wins, by making her target come quickly.”

Although the man beside her didn't touch her, he kept up a running erotic commentary, his huge hand rubbing up and down his thigh. “I'm Steven but my bottoms call me Sir Steve. That's my slave, Deirdre,” he said in Fran's ear, indicating the woman in the light blue teddy and skin the color of milk chocolate. “Second from the left. She's got a very talented mouth indeed. See how she's scratching Bart's thigh? She's trying to get him to focus on what her mouth is doing.”

Fran could feel the lips of her cunt swell. Any minute she was going to have to go to the ladies' room and masturbate to relieve the pressure. “Please don't,” the man said.

“Excuse me?”

“You're moving your hands as though you're stroking yourself.”

Fran looked at her hand, then made a fist in her lap.

The man's chuckle caused his warm breath to tickle her ear. “This atmosphere is almost guaranteed to make one very hungry. But it's so much better to let one of us satisfy that hunger.” He ran his finger along the ribbon around Fran's neck. “Want to take that off?”

Fran realized that she did, but she said, “Not right now.”

“Ah yes. Well, maybe later. I would like to be the one to introduce you to all this.” He ran one finger down Fran's upper arm. Even through her dress, she could feel the heat. “I will be right here when you change your mind.” Fran noticed that he had said “when,” not if.

The contest continued. Suddenly Deirdre's target arched his back and, as the audience watched, a thick stream arched from his cock to cover her face. There was a burst of applause and she smiled. Steve stood up and walked to her. “Is that pride I see, my dear?” he asked.

Her face changed instantly as if she had realized her mistake. “No, Master.”

“That's good. Pride is a sin.”

“Yes, Master.”

Steve snapped his fingers and Deirdre rushed to his side and sat beside him. He spoke to her in a low voice and she disappeared into what Fran assumed was the bathroom.

Fran returned her attention to the three remaining contestants. The man on his knees had his hand buried between his target's legs. “He's probably fondling the man's heavy balls,” Steve whispered, returning to his seat beside her, his breath tickling Fran's ear. “Or maybe she's rubbing his asshole. Have you ever had anyone play with you from behind?”

There was a commanding quality to Steve's voice so, without thinking, Fran answered, “No.”

“Oh how wonderful. I would love to be the one to take that virginity from you.” Again he stroked her ribbon. “Tell me to stop if you want me to, or give me hope that you will take this off later by your silence.”

Fran said nothing and Steve's warm laugh warmed her ear. “You give me such wonderful expectations for this evening. I never dreamed…”

“I never did either,” Fran said breathlessly.

Together they watched the contest continue, Steve's comments heating Fran's body. “Until you are mine,” he said, “I will ask permission. May I touch you, just once?”

Fran remained silent, and Steve's hand slid up her stockinged thigh and rubbed the crotch of her panties. “So wet. You want this. You want to belong to me. Here. In public. You're titillated, aroused and so curious. I could satisfy everything and show you so much.”

Fran looked at Carla, who was watching CJ's attempt to win the contest intently. Fran shook her head. She could almost admit that she wanted to play, but it was so public. She might be able to do it in front of strangers, but not in front of her friend. She sighed.

Steve leaned over and bit Fran's earlobe. “Carla will be going into the other room with CJ later. He likes his games a bit more painful and Carla will more than satisfy him.”

“I thought she didn't really like the pain stuff,” Fran blurted out.

“Here, tonight, she will do it to please CJ. She always does. And she'll enjoy it too, of course.”

“But…”

“She forgets how wonderful it is to give a slave the pain he craves. I've been in the back room with her and she wields a paddle as well as anyone. I'll let her tell you about it if she wants to. But you needn't worry about Carla watching, if that's what is bothering you.”

Steve sat beside Fran until the final target, CJ spurted into the mouth of the woman at his feet. “Only nine minutes,” someone yelled. “You can do better than that.”

“And he will,” Carla said loudly. “Later.”

“You see?” Steve said.

A few minutes later, Carla sought Fran out. “CJ wants to go into the other room to play and I really want to go with him. But I won't if you're uncomfortable. Will you be all right out here alone?”

“She won't be alone,” Steve said.

Carla's look was filled with understanding. She squeezed Fran's arm. “It's okay, Nicki. I'll be quite a while.” She paused. “Listen. There's a back entrance and I'll leave that way so you can be assured that I won't come through here again. Do whatever you want.” She squeezed again. “Whatever you want, and no more. Yes?”

Fran looked at her friend seriously. “I don't want to force you to sneak out the back.”

“Please. Let me do this for you. I want you to experience everything.”

Fran hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I'll tell you all about it tomorrow over brunch. I'll call you.”

Fran placed her hand on Carla's arm. “Thanks for understanding.”

Cape in hand, Carla winked and walked off, with CJ crawling behind, his leash in his mouth.

“She's quite a woman,” Steve said. “And obviously a good friend.”

“Yes.” Fran's knees shook with the reality of what she was considering.

“Do you trust me?” Steve asked.

She nodded. She trusted Carla, and through her, she trusted Steve and all the people in the room. She knew that Carla wouldn't play with anyone who wasn't completely dependable. But that wasn't the issue. Could she trust herself? Did she have to?

“It's all right. Tell me how far you've gone into this kind of play. Have you ever been tied up?”

“Yes,” Fran said, her eyes on her hands which rested nervously in her lap.

“Did you enjoy being helpless?”

“Yes.”

“But with me you wouldn't be tied. You'd be helpless because you want to belong to me. Because you want the ecstasy that you know I can give you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

“You will do what I say, behave the way I tell you to, here, in public. You will answer all my questions, calling me Sir Steve at all times and you will speak only when I tell you to. And you will do it all because it will be the greatest pleasure you can imagine. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Fran said, “but tell me one thing. Why?”

“Why for me?”

“Yes.”

Steve stared at her, his eyes boring into her very soul. “Oh God, you can't imagine how excited I am at the prospect of introducing you to all the things we can experience here tonight.” Steve took Fran's hand and placed it in the crotch of his buttery-soft leather pants. He was erect, hard, hot. “That's why.”

Fran looked at this man who was asking for her complete trust and surrender. He was strong, powerful, commanding, yet there was a softness, an understanding in his eyes. She reached up and untied the ribbon from around her neck. As she did so, she watched Steve's eyes. He was almost glazed with lust. She put the ribbon into his hand and listened to his breath catch in his throat. “I don't know what to do,” she said, then added, “Sir Steve.”

He cleared his throat and snapped, “Stand up.”

Fran stood, trembling but incredibly hungry. “Take that dress off,” he ordered.

Fran reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head in one smooth move. She watched Steve's eyes roam over her body, now clad in a white lace bra with matching panties, and white thigh-high hose. “Take off your jewelry. All of it. It makes you proud and that's not allowed.”

Fran removed her earrings and watch, the only jewelry she was wearing and dropped them into her purse.

“Your hair. I want it loose.”

Her fumbling fingers pulled the comb and pins from her French knot and then she slid them through the newly released blond strands. She stood, watching his eyes possess her body. “So tiny,” he moaned. “Take the bra off.”

Fran felt a moment of panic about her small breasts. In for a penny, she thought, unhooking the clasp.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. She knew he was saying those things for her benefit. No top, she reasoned, would say complimentary things to a new bottom, and she was glad he was helping her.

She watched him take a deep breath. “Take off the panties,” he said, rising, “but leave the stockings. And wearing high heels is usually a privilege reserved for special women but I like the way they make your legs look so you may continue to wear them for the moment. Say thank you.”

As Fran pulled off her panties, she whispered, “Thank you.”

“You made two mistakes. First, you always call me Sir. Second, you never whisper. You thank me in a loud voice for whatever I do to you.”

Loudly, she said, “Thank you, Sir Steven.”

“Deirdre,” he called, “come here.”

The woman she had seen only from a distance walked over. She was barefoot, and Fran now saw that the blue teddy was a size too small, forcing her large breasts to spill over the top. “This is Nicki. She's mine for this evening. Welcome her.”

With no warning, the woman put her arms around Fran and kissed her full on the lips, her breasts rubbing against Fran's. It was all Fran could do not to push her away, and her reluctance must have showed.

“So, that's how it is,” Steve mused aloud. “Good. It pleases me to use the things a woman doesn't yet like.” He walked toward the center of the room. “Follow me.”

Fran walked behind Steve, with Deirdre behind her.

Steve moved a few chairs around until there were several grouped around a large wooden coffee table. “Sit,” he said to Fran, pointing to the table. “And the rest of you, gather round.” Several men and women settled into the chairs and Deirdre sat at Steve's feet.

“Nicki has consented to remove her ribbon for me and she's mine for tonight. She's never done anything like this before so I want anyone who enjoys initiations to join me. But only to watch unless I say otherwise.” Tops talked eagerly while their bottoms, both male and female, settled into obviously accustomed positions. “Now, Nicki, sit on the table. We first have to clean you up.”

Fran sat demurely on the edge of the table. “No.” Steve pushed her back into the center of the table, then grabbed her ankles and put her feet onto the table with her knees spread, her cunt clearly visible to all. She supported herself straight-arm with her hands on the table behind her and her heels hooked into some carving in the edge of the table. Steve slid his finger through her slit and leered at her. “She's soaking wet.” As if on cue, a man arrived with a pan, a towel and several other items which he handed to Steve.

“Wonderful,” someone said.

“Can I have Gerry do it?” one man asked, patting the head of the slender black man who rested his face on the man's thigh. “He's got the softest touch.” He stroked his cleanly shaven face, then rubbed his crotch suggestively.

“All right,” Steve said, “but if he hurts her in any way, both you and Gerry will answer to me. And you know what that means.”

“Of course, Steve.” The man motioned to Gerry, who stood up. “Shave her.”

Shave her? Fran gulped. Did she really want to have her pussy shaved? She could, of course, say no, but then Steve would be disappointed and it just wouldn't be the same from then on. She wanted to please Steve and prove herself worthy of his time and energy. And it sounded kinky.