After the Party at Christmas

Margaret had no qualms about staking her place under the mistletoe at the far end of the hall. She sipped her cherry martini demurely, a lovely splotch of red in her holiday gown against the white garlands and baubles dotting the wall. As the band wailed away in the corner and the men all sipped their colorless, masculine highballs, she scanned the clutches of gossipers and the rainbow of aluminum trees for Andrew and his own telltale girly drink.

Soon enough he emerged, pink drink in hand and every hair in place just as Diane had ordained it, feasting his eyes on Margaret just as hungrily as he had when she had cornered him in the kitchen in her underwear that afternoon. There was one last obstacle: one of the dozens of interchangeable balding men who'd been milling around all night accosted Andrew about the drink. "That what living with four ladies does to you, Andy?" he demanded. "You even drink like them?"

"By choice," Andrew said, casting a protective look at Margaret lest any of the other men try to get to her first; none did. "They set me free. Be who you are, drink what you like." With a polite nod, he made his way to her side in time to steal a fearless kiss. "We're already in for it with Diane," he said as he leaned in.

"Yes!" Margaret concurred. "Might as well go for broke!" And on that note, they shared a long, lovely kiss under the bright lights, neither of them caring that they had an audience for the occasion -- they had, after all, shared all sorts of intimacy in close quarters with Diane, Tara and Ariana. Most of the other partygoers took no notice of their very public display.

Underneath his fearless sheen Andrew was nervous. Margaret knew it, because she was feeling the same. Filled to the brim with Christmas cheer, not to mention with liquor, but nervous all the same, for Diane had caught them.

"I wouldn't worry, Andrew," said Margaret, knowing full well what he was thinking. "What's the worst she can do to us? And you know you always end up having all sorts of fun with her 'punishments'."

"It's what she won't allow to happen that bothers me," Andrew confessed, grinning through his nerves at the lovely memory of seeing Margaret dressed only in her bra, with her magnificent burning bush on full display, that afternoon when he was supposed to stay in his room until all the ladies were dressed. "I was sure looking forward to you and me finally having our fun!"

"Don't be silly, Andrew, you know Diane would never allow that anyway!" Margaret reminded him. "You know how jealous she is of your attraction to me. I'll bet she commented on that in the shower this afternoon, didn't she? Every time it's my turn to shower with her it's one snide comment after another, 'You and that big beaver, do you use Rogaine on it or what?'"

"She doesn't!" Andrew laughed. But he knew Margaret was surely right. He'd blown his chances with her when he'd let it slip that he loved her big, wild bush. Diane was the only one who rivalled her in that regard, and she would never forgive any of the other ladies for surpassing her in Andrew's esteem.

"She does. Every time," Margaret rejoined. "Be honest, Andrew, what does she say about me? Don't expect me to believe she didn't tease you about it while you were soaping up her bush. And wishing it were mine," she couldn't help adding.

"Just so," Andrew admitted. "'Gently, Andrew!'" he mimicked, recalling the saucy-yet-firm tone Diane had used as he soaped up her pubic hair with her favorite perfumed shampoo.

"Yes ma'am." Andrew had looked up through the steamy drops to see she was looking happy -- obviously he was in her good graces for the moment. "Will that do?" He'd given her soapy bush one final pat and backed off to let her turn around and rinse if she liked.

"It will if you rinse it off and then finish me off, dear," she'd ordered.

Andrew had nodded and, without complaint and definitely without asking if she would return the favor, he'd cupped his hands and splashed water in the abundant hair until every trace of soap was gone. Enticing even when wet, Diane's big bush was always a treat, after all, even when he was stuck on his knees in the shower. But oh, how he'd have loved to wash Margaret's even bigger bush while the others took their turns on one another and perhaps on him. And of course Diane had known as much.

Diane had moaned approvingly as his tongue went to work on her clit. But as if reading his mind, she had also added, "I know you'd rather have Margaret here. But I've got something she hasn't got: life experience!" So she was always reminding all four of them, and that was why she was the boss and got to decide who showered with whom and who got to play with whom and when.

As Andrew had buried his face in Diane's freshly-washed pussy and inspired her to wiggle and grab tightly to the towel rail for balance, he couldn't deny that she had a point about life experience. The way she dipped her hips into his face again and again, accompanied by her unapologetic howls of sensation that the others could doubtlessly hear in their bedrooms, was indeed an art-form that not all women could have achieved while standing in a running shower. He'd have loved to find out if Margaret was up to the challenge, but he had long since made the fatal error of failing to disguise his adoration for her dark red hair and green eyes and lithe figure and girl-next-door aura, and most of all her dark and thick hip-to-hip bush. Diane had rarely, if ever, missed the opportunity to keep the two of them just out of one another's reach; and Ariana and Tara, no doubt out of jealousy, had played along every step of the way.

"Sorry," Andrew said now. "But I did imagine it was you of course."

"You're sweet," Margaret said. "It won't be like this forever --"

"You guys haven't been smooching, have you?" teased Ariana, who had sidled up behind them in her milky white dress. "Aren't you already in enough trouble for this afternoon, both of you?" Shamelessly she tapped the tiny padlock on her charm bracelet, an unsubtle reminder of what they could both expect when they got home.

"Didn't I already serve my time, having to sit there tied to her chair and watch you all get dressed?" Andrew demanded. "I thought I was going to pass out from all the blood going to my dick and I couldn't even give it one little stroke!"

"It was no bed of roses for us either, Andrew, seeing you so aroused and not being able to touch you or ourselves," Margaret reminded him. "My panties were sopping by the time I got my dress on!"

"You didn't get a wet spot on your behind, did you?" Ariana asked, helping herself to a look at Margaret's derriere.

"Nope," Margaret declared smugly, twisting around to present her pristine rump. "When Diane wasn't looking, I took them off." She burst into naughty giggles.

"Margaret!" Ariana exclaimed. "You were already in the soup for going out in the kitchen in your underwear! What do you think Diane will do to you now?"

"Nothing worse than she was already going to do to punish Andrew," Margaret pointed out. "You think she was going to let us anywhere near one another tonight anyway?"

"Good point," Ariana admitted. She couldn't completely suppress a smile at the reminder that Margaret's loss was probably her gain with Andrew. She could feel his tongue in her pussy on Diane's orders already.

Tara, the quiet one, appeared out of the crowd then. Barely recognizable with her blonde locks teased up and her glasses gone, she was regal in the bright green frock that Andrew had been forced to watch her put on that afternoon. "There's talk of an after-hours party in the Village," she announced. "Do you think there's any chance Diane will let us go?"

"And miss a chance to have her revenge on Andrew?" Margaret asked.

"And you!" Tara corrected.

"And me," Margaret agreed. "Dare I ask you ladies to go gently on me?"

"Then you know what she'll do to us!" Tara reminded her.

"She'll do it to you just to get you out of your shell!" Ariana teased. The youngest and most petite, she was also the most daring of the bunch -- or had been until Margaret had insisted on going out to the kitchen for that glass of water in the afternoon.

"Then I guess I'd better show you all I'm out of it already!" Tara declared. After a hasty look around to make sure she could do it without anyone but the four of them seeing, she darted a hand between Margaret's legs and tickled her pussy. Margaret yelped and pulled back, but not before Tara had discovered her secret. "Margaret! You're not wearing any..."

"We know," Ariana said. "She just told us. Just how furious do you think Diane will be?"

"Can't wait to find out!" Tara grinned, with a hungry look at Andrew. "Andrew, you looked so adorable tied to that chair, I was dying to play with it!"

"If you still want to, don't let Diane know!" Margaret reminded her.

"Yeah, speaking of whom..." Ariana was always the best at spotting their mistress in a crowd just in time to shut up, and tonight was no exception. There she appeared around the tree just to their left, resplendent in a royal blue gown -- one of the few women in the whole room who'd been sharp enough not to wear red or green when everyone else would be doing the same -- chatting up two handsome older men who surely had no idea what she was about to head home to.

"Well, gentlemen, this is where I leave you," she purred with a look in both their eyes in return. "My brood here is overdue for calling it a night, I can see."

"Such a shame such a bunch of lovely youngsters won't be joining us downtown," said the older-looking of the two, with a leer that made all three of Andrew's friends exhale with relief that Diane hadn't asked him to join them. Every now and then their mistress did make it clear that she only cared to torture them so much!

"Perhaps next year, Harold," Diane said, and she permitted him to kiss her cheek. "Merry Christmas, Robert," she said to the other without offering up a kiss. She then gave the doorman a wave that sent him calling for their limousine. "Ladies, Andrew, shall we?"

"We shall!" Andrew said fearlessly, drawing snickers from all three of the women.

"Just what are you laughing at?" Diane asked them with a gleam in her eye. "You hardly think he's the only one in any trouble, do you?"

"Somehow he never is, is he?" Ariana agreed as they all strolled towards the door, waving good night to the other guests. As always, Andrew wondered if anyone had a clue about what was to happen next.

"He's not the only one, Ariana!" Diane said. "Let's not get too big for our tiny little panties, dearie."

Tara and Andrew burst into unapologetic laughter. Margaret didn't; the hour of reckoning about her own panties -- or rather the lack thereof -- was soon to be upon them.

But the deliciously filthy promise of what was to come had her spirits up -- and her pussy wet -- again by the time they clambered into the limousine. Diane and Tara having commandeered each side of Andrew on the forward-facing seat, Margaret more than happily sank down in the seat facing him and accidentally-on-purpose let the slit in her dress expose most of her crossed legs. Knowing that all except Diane knew just what a secret she was nearly betraying, she had the satisfaction of watching the bulge in Andrew's pants grow almost painfully obvious.

"You still haven't got that under control, have you?" Diane asked. Without waiting for an invitation or even for Ariana to swing the car door shut, she unzipped Andrew's trousers and set his hard cock free; it promptly sprang to attention as all four women gazed on shamelessly. Diane gripped it in a squeeze so tight the others felt sympathy pangs -- but Andrew's ensuing gasp and moan did not sound like a response of pain to them.

The city was a wonderland of lights and revelers out and about, but inside the car all eyes were on Diane's vice-grip on Andrew. "It's pretty chilly out there," she cooed as she yanked his erection about every which way, sending him squirming back and forth between herself and Ariana. "Ladies, shall we let him cover it up for the walk inside?"

"Of course we should," said Ariana.

"I agree," said Tara, though she could think of a wonderful way to warm it back up as soon as they were inside.

"Margaret?" Diane asked.

"Oh, well, Diane, I didn't answer because I figured I didn't get a vote."

"None of you girls do!" Diane rejoined. "But that's not an excuse not to answer when you're spoken to, Margaret. Supposing I should punish you as well for your insolence? It's only a matter of what would be appropriate."

"You could make her take off her panties," Ariana chirped.

Tara let slip with a knowing laugh, but that did not deter Diane, who seemed impressed with the idea. "I rather like that. We all know it would intensify Andrew's penitence, wouldn't it? Margaret, if you would..."

Smiling through her fear of Diane and her fury at Ariana, Margaret lifted her skirt up for all to see and declared, "Too late!"

"You disobedient little ingrate!" Diane exclaimed, now squeezing hard enough to cause Andrew real pain, which he vocalized. "Cover up unless you want him to suffer more!"

Margaret dropped her skirt back into place but Diane did not loosen her grip. Andrew winced and rubbed up against Tara in a vain attempt to escape. Tara piped up, "Haven't you got any mercy, Diane?"

"I have," Diane announced. "Take over, Tara." She released Andrew's erection at last, and they all watched as Tara wrapped her own fingers around it. There was no hiding her delight at that turn of events, or Andrew's relief at her much gentler grip.

"I don't think the other shoe has fallen yet, Tara," Ariana teased.

"Quite right," Diane said. "Tara, neither you nor Andrew is coming inside the apartment until you get him off."

"Here?!" Tara exclaimed. "In the car?"

"Either that or the elevator," Diane said. "In fact," she added as they all felt the car slowing down; a look out the window confirmed that they were home, "It'll have to be the elevator."

Ariana opened the door, and Andrew heard the unwelcome echo of a troop of carolers just up the block as the others filed out onto the sidewalk. Tara was as gentle and discreet as she could be in leading him out as if on a leash, even mouthing the word "Sorry" at one point. But the glint in her eye made it clear to Andrew that she wasn't really. The quiet one had her big moment at hand, they both knew that!

Margaret and Ariana strolled alongside Andrew and just behind Tara as they made their way to the lobby, and the carolers and the doorman were none the wiser as Tara rubbed and tickled Andrew's rigid cock in the cold night air. None, that is, except for Margaret and Ariana, who were wonderfully aware of his giggles and gasps and struggles to pretend this was just like any other walk in from the car. Of course there was no such thing as an ordinary walk in from the car after a night on the town with the girls!

Diane was waiting by the open elevator door. She ushered them in, said good night and Merry Christmas to the doorman, and pressed the penthouse button.

Before the sliding doors had shut, Diane locked Andrew's arms behind his waist and held firmly. "Tara, I believe you owe him an early Christmas present?"

"Yes, mistress," Tara said, and looking more than happy with her punishment, she knelt down and took Andrew into her mouth. She set about teasing his tip with playful licks and kisses, to which Andrew responded with a sigh of pure pleasure.

"Oh, that won't do at all!" Diane announced. "We don't want to wait all night, Tara. Girls, how can we egg her on a bit, do you think?"

"Put her on display as well?" Ariana offered. Without waiting for approval from Diane, she pulled Tara's skirt up and held it above her waist, exposing her ruffly panties to anyone who happened to get on the elevator.

Tara let out an outraged moan that at least brought on a response from Andrew. But her tormentors weren't done. "Come on, Tara dear," Margaret chirped, "We don't want to be stuck here all night!" With that she whacked Tara on the bottom, more gently than Diane would have done but enough to Jar Tara into bearing down harder on Andrew.

"Oh! Tara! God!" Andrew's voice rang out in the tiny chamber to everyone's delight. Ariana joined in on the spanking, and Tara had little doubt she would find her bottom a stark shade of pink by the time they let her be.

But it did spur her on, along with Andrew's delicious shrieks, and soon she was awarded with a howl and a splash in her mouth. She swallowed it down and released Andrew's cock, and looked up to see if they were now free to leave...only to see they were on their floor and the elevator door was wide open, with her derriere sticking out for all to see. "Diane!" she exclaimed.

"Relax, no one else saw," Diane said, releasing Andrew, who cupped his hands over his now-softening cock but didn't bother putting it away. "And you've redeemed yourself for the moment, Tara." She found her keys in her purse and led the way down the hall to their flat. "The rest of you, on the other hand..."

"The rest of us?!" Ariana repeated incredulously. "What did I do?"

"Expressed far too much pleasure at Andrew and Margaret's impending punishment, that's what," Diane said. "Besides, do you think I couldn't tell you already knew Margaret wasn't wearing panties?"

Ariana knew better than to ask how she knew. Or even if she knew.

Their always-opulent interior was now decked out with garlands and tinsel galore, and the Christmas tree where they'd had the photograph for their cards taken stood majestically by the living room window. But it remained shrouded in the dim glow of the streetlights far below as Diane herded them all down the hall to her bedroom, where she turned the lights on low. "Merry Christmas, darlings," she said, slipping off her mink coat. "It's time for your penitence. Margaret? Off with your dress, dear."

Margaret unzipped her dress and slid it off without shame, smiling defiantly at her audience as she faced them down dressed only in her bra once again. Diane ordered Andrew to remove Margaret's bra and tie her to the bed. He was still tying her ankles to the foot of the bed, gazing longingly at her wet snatch and longing to run his fingers through it, when Ariana appeared at his side in her lacy white underwear and stockings. "We all know what you're dying for, Andrew," she teased.

"Don't you get all high and mighty, too, or you might be next!" Diane warned. Andrew having now completed his order, he looked up to see Diane and Tara also had their dresses off. Diane told Ariana and Tara to undress Andrew and strap him into her chair.

"Your chair, Diane?" Tara asked in disbelief, glancing at the easy chair in the corner with the leather restraints. She never allowed any of them to sit there.

"That's what I said!" Diane confirmed. "Don't make me repeat it in the mood I'm in now, dears." Andrew, knowing he could only make matters worse if he complained, put up no resistance as Ariana and Tara took an arm each and plopped him down in the easy chair and strapped him in. "The feathers, Tara," Diane further directed. "You know where they are."

"Yes, Diane," Tara said, and Andrew could tell she was relishing her next command. He stared straight ahead, but Diane ordered him to look at Margaret, so Andrew didn't actually see when Tara and Ariana followed their orders and started tickling his feet with the feathers. He kicked about what little bit he could and wiggled his toes and whimpered in frustration at the teasing, but it was no use -- and of course Ariana and Tara relished their role, that he could see in their faces when he stole a pleading look at them.

"Now then, Andrew," Diane announced, pulling her panties down, "Margaret here is going to eat all three of us out one by one, and you're going to watch every moment of it." Turning to Margaret, she added, "And his torture won't stop until we've all had at least one orgasm, understood?"