The Girl and the Party

I decided I wanted to try and write a classic decadent masked orgy, in full 'Eyes Wide Shut' mode, so I banged this out over the weekend. It's just a quick one-shot, no editing or anything. I hope you enjoy it.

*****

The girl shivered as she stepped out of the car, the cold air of the fall night slipping up her coat from where it hung around her knees. Beneath her thick coat, the girl was mostly nude and the cold air on her bare skin chilled her. She wore high heels, sheer red thigh-high stockings and a garter belt. Beyond that, the only things she wore were bands of dark leather that circled her wrists, ankles, and throat, the traditional cuffs and collar of a submissive. She heard her boyfriend speaking to the valet but saw nothing. The leather domino mask covering her eyes was designed without eyeholes, leaving her blind.

Her boyfriend took her elbow, gently guiding her forward. He could not take her hand, because he had clipped her wrist cuffs together behind her back before they left home. The sleeves of her coat were empty, tucked into the pockets. She had no idea where they were - her boyfriend had not spoken to her while he drove, and the mask left her in complete darkness. She had kept time by listening to the music from the car stereo. Her boyfriend had been listening to a recording of the girl playing Bach's Six Unaccompanied Suites on her cello; she knew the pieces well, and timed the ride at just over fifty minutes. Because her boyfriend had not spoken, the girl had kept silent as well, luxuriating in the fact that she was restrained and helpless at his mercy.

Her boyfriend led her through a door and spoke to someone else. It seemed to be a doorman. The girl was glad to be inside someplace warm again after even the brief moments in the cold. Her boyfriend tugged the hood of the girl's coat back, showing the doorman her face beneath the slim mask. She imagined how she must look to this stranger, her cheeks flushed from the cold, her lips painted a dark red, her mask clearly rendering her blind and dependent on her boyfriend's hand to guide her. The girl shivered again, but this time it was not from the cold.

After a few more words with the doorman, her boyfriend urged the girl forward again. She followed him, her heels clicking on what sounded like marble flooring. They waited for a moment and then the girl was led into an elevator. The acceleration of the elevator was so smooth that the girl almost didn't realize it was moving.

Her boyfriend unbuttoned the girl's coat and let it hang open from her shoulders. Her breath quickened - did he intend to use her in the elevator, before they even reached the party? The girl was ready, but her boyfriend did not touch her after opening her coat, simply standing beside her.

The elevator door opened and her boyfriend led the girl out of it. From the valet and doorman, she had initially thought that they were at a mansion, but the length of the elevator ride had been too long for a private dwelling, no matter how luxurious. She realized they must be in a hotel, or possibly a condo tower. The girl realized that naked body was visible with her coat open, and her pulse quickened as she wondered who might be seeing her nudity as she followed her boyfriend's guiding hand.

Her boyfriend stopped her progress with pressure on her elbow, and the girl stood waiting, her lips parted slightly in nervous excitement.

"Last chance to back out, Darling. Once I open this door there's no turning back."

The girl shook her head, her high ponytail swaying. "I'm ready, Sir."

Her boyfriend stroked her face gently. "I'm so proud of you, Darling. You're going to be sensational tonight, I just know it."

The girl turned her head slightly to press her cheek into his hand. "Thank you, Sir."

"Alright, no speaking unless spoken to for the rest of the night. Anyone who speaks to you is a guest; obey them as you would if they were me."

"Yes Sir." The girl felt her pussy tingle slightly. She had not slept with anyone but her boyfriend since they had started dating, and now he planned to make her into a party favor, available to anyone on the other side of the door who wanted her. She was terrified, but the fear thrilled her.

A door opened and the sound of a party spilled into the hallway. The girl didn't know if her boyfriend had rung a doorbell, or if someone had been waiting for them. Her boyfriend tugged on her elbow and she followed him in, the door closing behind them.

The girl's boyfriend greeted someone he recognized. They didn't use names, but they were clearly familiar with each other. The girl heard her boyfriend's voice moving away to blend into the swirl of party conversation. Without his hand at her elbow to guide her, the girl stood helplessly, unsure what to do.

After a few minutes, the girl felt her coat lifted from her shoulders and removed. The room was pleasantly warm, but she still shivered as her last covering was removed. She hoped it was her boyfriend removing her coat, but the voice that spoke to her belonged to a strange man.

"Always nice to see a new face at one of these things. And a red stocking girl, too. Did your master tell you what those mean?"

The girl felt her throat clench. She was naked and alone, blind and cuffed in front of a total stranger. She had been anticipating this moment since her boyfriend had suggested the party, but now that she was actually here she found herself frozen. She heard fingers snapping next to her ear.

"Speak when you're spoken to, girl. Do you know what your stockings mean?"

The girl thought about how disappointed her boyfriend would be if she embarrassed him. She pushed aside her momentary panic and answered.

"Yes Sir. They mean that I have no limits aside from the general limits in place for the party."

"Hmm. I shouldn't need to ask this, but you're new and you seem a little nervous. Do you know the party safe words?"

"Chartreuse is the safe word, Sir. If I'm gagged or have a cock in my mouth, I hum 'Jingle Bells'".

"Good. Turn around, new girl. I want to take a look at you."

The girl wasn't sure if she was supposed to obey silently or say 'Yes Sir'. She chose silence, slowly rotating in her heels until she thought she had completed a full circle.

"Not much in the way of tits, but you have a nice ass; decent legs, for as short as you are. You're wasted standing by the coat rack. Come with me."

The strange man took the girl's elbow and led her through the party. He walked more quickly than her boyfriend had, and the girl had to step quickly to keep up in her blindness, hoping that she wouldn't put a foot wrong in her high heels.

The girl wasn't sure what she had expected to hear at the party. Her boyfriend had told her very little of what to expect. She had thought she would hear the sounds of an orgy perhaps, or whips striking flesh, but everything sounded like a normal party. Conversation, laughter, piano music echoing from another room; it sounded like quite a large party. The girl wondered how many silent, naked forms like her own were mixed in with the laughing guests.

The stranger led her around a corner, and the buzz of party conversation faded, replaced by the brisk tones of servants discussing food preparation. The stranger spoke from beside her.

"Music room needs a tray of drinks. Use this one."

Having done what he'd come to do, the stranger left her, his footsteps fading as he moved away. The girl stood uncertainly then flinched as she felt hands on her. Someone slapped her ass sharply, and she forced herself to be still and stand straight. Something wooden prodded her stomach beneath her ribs, and then she felt leather straps buckled around her stomach and shoulders. The straps tightened and the wooden prongs pressed more firmly against her naked torso as a weight was placed on whatever they were supporting. The girl could not see, or use her hands to explore, but from the stranger's words she assumed that there was now a tray of drinks braced against her torso, supported and secured by the leather straps.

No one had spoken to the girl since the stranger left. She felt something clip to her collar and realized it was a leash as she was tugged forward. The girl followed carefully, not wanting to spill the drinks.

The girl was led back into the party and through the swirls of conversation. The sound of the piano grew louder as she was led through an open doorway. Soft feminine hands on her shoulders positioned her, and she felt her back placed against a wall. The leash attached to her collar was pulled up and fastened to something, tugging her collar tightly to her neck and forcing the girl to stand straight and tall with her head up. Then she was left alone.

The girl blinked her eyes behind her mask, feeling them watering. Yes, she had been told very little, but she had thought that she would be at her boyfriend's side at the party, even in her restraints. He had abandoned her, and no one here seemed to care about her or even be interested in her. She was only useful to hold drinks, a role that could have been served just as easily by an end table. The girl felt humiliated; because she was who she was, she could feel her pussy growing slick at the shame.

The girl clenched her thighs together and concentrated on standing straight. If her only role tonight was to be furniture and scenery, she would do her best to fill that role well. Remembering what her boyfriend liked, she arched her back slightly, pushing her small breasts forward just a touch, careful to not jostle the tray.

Cut off from vision and with nothing to do, the girl felt her other senses sharpen. She could feel each movement of air on her naked skin when a guest passed by. Occasionally she felt the tray shift slightly as a guest picked up a glass. The conversation was a meaningless buzz - she caught words here and there, but the guests were speaking to each other. The girl was furniture, and she did not feel that she had the right to listen to the conversation of guests. Instead she focused on maintaining her posture and listening to the music.

The piano player was very good. He (or she) was playing something by Mozart, and the girl was frustrated that she couldn't place the exact piece. When the piano piece finished, there was a pause in the music. During the pause, the girl felt the tray attached to her lifted away and replaced with a new one with fresh glasses. Shortly after that, the music started again, this time a violin duet.

The change from piano to violin seemed to be a signal of some sort. The next time a glass was lifted from her tray, the girl felt a hand cup her modest breasts, a man's thumb rolling over her nipple before the hand left. After that, each time a guest took a drink, the girl felt hands on her. Sometimes her breasts or hips were briefly fondled. Other times the guests lingered, exploring her body more thoroughly, fingers tracing her wet pussy or probing the tight ring of her asshole. Nothing penetrated her yet, but otherwise every part of her body was subject to examining hands. Some of the guests made comments about the girl's appearance, or speculated with their friends on how she would look while being fucked or whipped. Since they seemed to be talking about her instead of to her, the girl stayed silent and blushed as the guests discussed her.

One guest pinched and pulled at her nipples, treating them so roughly that the girl had to grit her teeth in order to avoid crying out. Another guest caressed her gently for several minutes, making the girl's pussy weep with soft touches all over her body, strong hands running through her hair and along her face below the mask, along her breasts, her flanks, her thighs. The girl moaned as the hands explored between her legs, fingers tracing between her pubic lips and brushing her clitoris. When the hand left her, she wanted to beg for more, but the girl remembered she was not allowed to speak without being spoken to. The guest had a better use for her mouth anyway - she felt his fingers pressed to her lips, and she gratefully opened her mouth and sucked her juices off his fingers so that his hand was clean.

When the gentle guest took his hand out of her mouth and walked away, the girl was startled to hear a woman's voice speaking softly in her ear.

"Did you like that, little slut? Did you want more?"

The girl had not realized anyone was so close to her; either the woman whispering in her ear had approached very quietly, or the girl had been too distracted by the hands of the other guest. The girl yelped with sudden pain as two slim fingers closed around her labia and pinched hard.

"When I ask a question, I expect you to answer, slut." The soft voice was laced with iron and the girl responded instinctively.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Yes, I liked it and wanted more." The girl had trouble keeping her voice steady as she answered. The woman was pinching mercilessly on some very tender and sensitive flesh. The girl wanted to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. Her back was to the wall, the leash tugged her collar tight with no slack, and she could barely even try to lift herself higher on her toes given the very high heels she was wearing. Besides, the girl could not struggle too much without risking spilling the tray of drinks that it was her duty to support.

The fingers moved up and down her lower lips, until every part of the girl's labia flared with pain. She cried behind her mask and did her best to suffer silently. The woman's voice was directly in the girl's ear now, and she could feel the woman's breath as she spoke.

"You will address me as Mistress."

"Yes Mistress."

"What's your name, little slut?"

The girl gave her name. The woman let go of the girl's pussy and slapped her face; not hard, but still a shock. "Not your actual name, slut, your scene name. At least pretend to respect the fact that everyone at this party is wearing a mask."

"I'm sorry Mistress; I don't have a scene name." The girl felt mortified that she had offended this powerful woman who dominated her so easily.

"That won't do. Your owner must have some pet name for you."

"Sir calls me Darling sometimes, Mistress." The girl's voice quavered as she answered.

"Darling." The woman rolled the word around on her tongue, tasting it. She moved her fingers to the girl's clit, holding it between them, but did not pinch yet. "That's a lovely little name. I think it suits you. You're gushing over my hand, Darling, despite how cruelly I was treating your pussy. Do you like pain?"

"No Mistress, I don't." The girl was terrified that Mistress would pinch her clitoris.

"But you like it when I hurt you. Is it the submission that has you dripping, then? The pain excites you as long as it pleases me?"

"I think so, Mistress. I don't know." The girl felt like a rabbit, hypnotized by the wolf. Nothing but two fingers and a few words, and this woman she could not see controlled her absolutely. The girl was terrified of what Mistress might do with those fingers, but she was also desperate to please Mistress. If Mistress had asked her for permission to squeeze her clit as hard as she could, the girl would have given it.

The woman did not ask for permission. She simply did it.

The girl let out a cry of pain and writhed back, her shoulders pressed against the wall, the glasses rattling on her tray. The woman released her but stayed next to her. The girl panted and tried to fix her posture, her legs shaking. She could feel her tears trapped against her cheek by the smooth leather of her mask. The pain had been sudden and intense, worse than she had thought possible, but it had ended almost before it began.

The woman spoke again, her tone as even as it had been throughout the brief encounter. "You're gorgeous when you're in pain, Darling. When the music changes, I'll come find you again and really make you suffer. Don't go anywhere."

The woman wiped her hands clean in the girl's hair. The girl wished Mistress would have let the girl suck her fingers clean; perhaps she had disappointed Mistress by crying out and rattling the glasses. The girl was trying to prepare herself for Mistress's departure, but the woman did not leave immediately. She moved slightly then the girl felt something touch her chest. It took the girl a moment in her disoriented state to realize that it was a marker of some sort, and the woman was writing something on her chest. The marker moved across the girl's collarbone from shoulder to shoulder then moved lower for two more lines of words that reached down to cover the top half of the girl's breasts. Then the woman was gone.

The girl tried to regain her composure, but her emotions were in turmoil. She wished her boyfriend would find her and say something to her, or just touch her to reassure her. She wished Mistress would come back. She wished someone, anyone would stay with her and touch her, use her, love her.

The girl heard a pair of guests stop in front of her. She tried to find the correct posture again, to be a pleasing piece of scenery. She hoped none of the glasses had spilled when she rattled them. The girl heard a soft laugh from the guests in front of her as they picked up glasses.

"Poor little Darling. I don't know whether we should offer condolences or congratulations." The first speaker had a full, rich baritone.

"She must have been the one who yelped a minute ago. Look, she's still flushed and panicked. If we're not busy, we should try and make sure to watch later; I'll bet she screams wonderfully if she's already crying out during the violins." The second voice was another man, younger sounding. Both of the guests picked up glasses from the girl's tray and moved on without touching her.

The next few guests to take glasses from the girl's tray had similar reactions; a pause as they read whatever Mistress had written, then a chuckle or a brief comment. Before the woman had written on her, each of her guests since the violins started had touched the girl's body in some fashion, but now they stayed back. The girl wondered if Mistress had written something on her chest that declared the girl off limits to other guests.

The girl felt another glass lift from her tray, but the guest did not move away.

"I've been watching you for a while, Darling. I bet it's driving you crazy, trying to guess what's written on your chest." A man's voice, another stranger; he had a clear rich tenor, with a trace of a European accent.

The girl worried that this was not a question, but she wanted very badly to know what Mistress had written, so she risked replying.

"Yes Sir. I would dearly like to know."

"And what will you do for me, if I tell you?"

"Whatever you want me to do, Sir."

The girl hoped her response was correct. The man could do anything he wanted to her, he was a guest. They both knew that when they chose to attend the party.

The guest slid his hand through her hair, then tangled his fingers in her ponytail and pulled her head back. He stepped closer, the length of his body pressing against her. The girl moaned as she felt his suit against her naked flesh. The tactile reminder that he was fully clothed while she was completely nude was intoxicating. She was briefly worried about her tray, but the guest was not pulling her off balance yet, only tilting her head back with the hand in her hair.

"Would you suck my cock for me, Darling? Get down on your knees, with your hands still cuffed behind you, and take me in your throat?"

"Yes Sir."

"What if I wanted that sweet honeypot dripping between your legs? Would you let me put you on all fours and fuck you like a bitch? You're a fragile looking little thing; you should know I like to fuck hard before you answer."