'M' is For: [Ch6] Welcome to the Book Club - Part 2

"Hello, my lovely people."

Missy's voice rang clearly through the room. She stood with her back to the kitchen counter, commanding the entire room. Even in a space where everyone came dressed to impress, there was no one who could compete with Missy's presence. She was a queen holding court, and we were all her willing subjects, there to pay our respects.

"Welcome to my little book club." A round of low chuckles and claps greeted this. Missy's lips curved into a smile. "I'll be your Mistress of Ceremonies tonight. You may address me as 'My Lady' or 'My Goddess' as you prefer. For those of you who are new, we have a few house rules. First, try to keep the furniture clean, okay? I don't want to see any jizz or lady spunk over any of the sofas or carpet. We've got plenty of towels around, so use them. Likewise, if you use any of the props, for the love of God, please use the disinfectant wipes afterward. Second—don't be an asshole. Seriously. I invited each and every one of you specifically. Do not disappoint me. If you brought drugs, take them like the responsible adults that you are. If you make yourself stupid, you're out. If you try to slip something to someone without them fully aware of the risks, you're out. Our safeword tonight is 'Chopin.' Don't be shy about using it, okay?

"Third, no photos or videos. Not even of the food. If you've got a phone on you, you have to leave it with Paul at the door. We're about to get up to some debauched shit in here, and I need everyone to know that they are safe." She pointed off down the hall. "I bought enough lube and condoms to stock three pharmacies. They're all in the bathroom. We've also got some in those little baskets you see. You're welcome." Missy paused, surveyed us all. Then she broke into a saucy grin. "Alright, with that said and out of the way...let's get this party started!"

Amid the swell of cheers and hollers, the music blared back on, louder than before. The lights dimmed and someone hit a secondary set of lights that I hadn't noticed until that moment. Positioned in the corners of the room, they slowly pulsed different colors, bathing the room in alternating blues, pinks and greens.

It seemed that this had been the sign that the guests had been waiting for. Conversations became more suggestive, gazes sultrier. Hands began to wander. I turned my head and noticed Kiara had been approached by two preppy-looking men with clean-shaven jaws and perfectly coiffed hair. She smiled flirtatiously and stroked one of their arms, and I sensed that I would not see her again for a while.

"Adrienne?"

Missy walked toward us, the crowd parting before her. Adrienne turned, an answering gleam in her eyes.

"You ready?" Missy asked her.

"Always," Adrienne crooned.

Missy reached toward Thomas. Grasping his hands, she pulled him up to his feet. Her eyes slid in our direction, and when they met mine, her eyes twinkled.

"Mal, you too."

"Ah, okay," I said, then quickly added, "my Lady."

I followed Missy and Adrienne as Missy led Thomas toward the spanking bench. Missy stopped Thomas right by the bench, and together, Missy and Adrienne began to undo the buttons to Thomas's shirt. As Missy got started on the zipper to his jeans, Adrienne pulled open his shirt, baring his torso. She slowly ran her hands over his smooth chest.

A few people had gathered around us to watch. I could tell Missy was enjoying herself as she dragged Thomas's jeans down, and with it his boxer briefs, freeing his half-erect penis. She carelessly discarded the clothing on the floor and reached up to grab his crotch.

"Getting hard already," Missy murmured, her eyes rising up to meet Thomas's. He gazed back down at her, mesmerized, his cheeks showing the first flush of his arousal. Without looking away, Missy said, "Adrienne, his shirt..."

Thomas leaned forward to make it easier as Adrienne reached for his shirt and pulled it off of him. I noticed a couple of our onlookers lick their lips. For good reason. Thomas in all his naked glory was beautiful. The colored half-lighting made him look like a fallen angel, ensnared by his devilish mistress. She reached for him and they kissed, slow and sensual, hands moving. Thomas slipped a hand into the V-neck of Missy's jumpsuit and massaged her breast, swirling his thumb along her nipple. His other hand settled against the nape of Missy's neck, pulling her close.

In due time, Missy pulled away, breaking the kiss. She turned to me. "There's a bottle of body oil in the bathroom. Fetch it for me?"

I ran to obey.

It took a little bit of patience to find the clear plastic bottle of body oil amongst all the other supplies Missy had stocked the guest bathroom with. I couldn't tell whether there were three pharmacies' worth in there, but she certainly had been determined that her guests should have everything they needed. She had a basket of condoms, tissues, wipes, and bottles of lube. A couple boxes of latex gloves sat beside them. I glanced at them briefly, curious as to their use. Once I found what I was looking for, I ducked back out to rejoin Missy and Thomas.

With a light touch on his arm, Missy directed Thomas to mount the padded leather bench. He obediently climbed up onto the bench, belly-down, his knees braced on the rails on either side. Hands gripping the front of the frame, he rested his head on the central beam and closed his eyes.

"Comfortable?" Missy asked, bending down so that her face was inches from his.

"Yes, Ma'am," came Thomas's soft reply.

"Good."

"Oil?" Adrienne asked, barely even looking at me. I handed it over. Her fingers brushed mine as she grasped the bottle.

I watched as Adrienne and Missy spread the body oil over the parts of Thomas's body that were exposed. There was something obscurely satisfying in watching the two of them as they polished the fine architecture of his body into a silky gleam. He lay there, still and acquiescent, as the women worked.

When the job was done, Adrienne set the bottle aside. She caressed Thomas's backside with an easy familiarity, and I wondered just how often Adrienne and Missy had done this. Her hands traced his spine down to his tailbone, then curved to cup his ass. She massaged him, working her hand across smooth, soft flesh. Then, so quickly I might have missed it if I hadn't been watching her, she slapped his right asscheek. She dealt another sharp slap to his left asscheek. Thomas inhaled sharply and adjusted his grip on the bench's frame.

"Watch," Missy murmured to me in a voice intended for my ears alone. "If you do it right, you might see the imprint of your hand." Missy cast me a secretive, conspiratorial smile. "That's always fun." I flushed.

Adrienne dealt Thomas another couple slaps along his butt cheeks and the back of his upper thighs. As the moments stretched into minutes, I noticed that Adrienne began to vary her pattern. She shifted between a steady staccato that alternated sides to an impulsive blow to an area she'd deliberately neglected. Putting aside how much I disliked her, I could appreciate just how good Adrienne was at this. There was something both mesmerizing and terrifying about the slightly sleepy look in her eyes that contrasted with the sharp ringing sounds of her physical admonishment.

Wordlessly, Missy moved forward to take over. Adrienne stepped back to watch Missy take his cock with a handful of lube and begin to work him between his thighs.

"Did you like that, Tommy Boy?" crooned Missy to her vulnerable boyfriend, her hand glistening as it slid steadily up and down the length of his cock. "Wasn't Adrienne wonderful?"

"Y-yes... She was," whispered Thomas.

Missy released Thomas and drew him up from the bench. They shared another passionate kiss before Missy, pulling back, began to strip off her jumpsuit. More than one of her guests watching caught their breath as the fabric fell away to the floor. She was completely naked except for a pair of black lace panties and her stilettos.

Missy, hand outstretched, pushed Thomas back towards the couches. She drew a fresh towel from the pile laid out in a basket on the floor and spread it across the fabric, easing Thomas back onto it. With a soft, satisfied sigh of contentment, Missy spread his thighs before her. Like magic, her free hand had acquired a latex glove, which she squirted some lube into. The onlookers formed a semi-circle around her as she fingered Thomas's ass with one hand and stroked his erection with the other. Thomas's breathing gradually changed, becoming quicker and shallower. One hand gripped the edge of the sectional, the other the sofa back, as he arched his back. She had three fingers in him when, with a stuttering cry, Thomas came in her grip. Cum shot out across his abdomen in wet, sticky strands.

Eyes locked on her prize, Missy gave him a catlike smile of victory. She withdrew her fingers from him and extended her free hand to his mouth. Thomas took her wrist as he licked the cum off her fingers and swallowed.

With ineffable tenderness, Missy caressed Thomas's cheek.

"My beautiful whore," Missy said softly, her words as tender as a benediction.

In the immediate aftermath, Missy was content to cuddle against Thomas, and the onlookers gradually dispersed. At a glance from Missy, I understood that she wanted me to clean up the bench. I was too grateful for something to do to feel insulted. I grabbed some wipes and swabbed down the leather, leaving it shining and clean for its next occupants. Whether it was my arousal or the alcohol, I could feel an odd tingle pulsing through me.

Unsure of what to do next, I found myself back at the kitchen bar, where I ordered another drink and picked at the fruit. Not too far from me, two women had helped a guy out of his shirt and were painting his chest with chocolate from the fondue. Eying the fondue, I mentally crossed sampling any of it later off my list.

All around me, Missy's guests were engrossed in their private games of seduction. Another couple had taken over the bench that Missy and Thomas had vacated. The woman stood over the man, preparing his ass with lube, a strap-on rising from her crotch. In the corner by one of the coffee tables, I thought I could make out Kiara's silhouette bent over a stranger's cock. She shifted, and the tag on her collar briefly reflected the light and shimmered a bright neon blue.

"So what's your game?" a voice asked from my side. I turned and saw a woman who looked to be roughly my age, maybe a few years older, leaning casually against the counter. She had dark shoulder-length hair and straight-cut bangs that, along with her heavy smokey eyeshadow and black leather harness, gave her a classically striking look. The woman noticed the object of my gaze and lightly touched her hair. "A wig," she said wryly. "My real hair isn't nearly as exciting. Do you like it?"

"Yes," I said honestly. "The whole outfit is killer. You look ready to commit a crime."

Crimson lips widened into a smile. "Good. That's what I was going for."

I smiled back automatically, disarmed by her candor. Then, glancing out at the rest of the room, I added, "I'm not sure I have a game. Not yet, at least. How about you?"

"I was looking to find some nice sweet sub to play with, but no luck so far."

"Oh..." I wasn't sure if she was joking or not. "Well, I hope you find one."

"Me too. But I'll settle for just a nice sweet newcomer," the woman replied.

I looked at my companion, really looked at her, and in our shared gaze there was a spark of mutual understanding.

The woman led me away from the kitchen to a bedroom off the far end of the living room. The shades were drawn all the way down on the windows, and a light with a red gel transformed the room into a more sensual space. We might have been in the backroom of a strip club. There were already three people on top of the queen-sized bed—two men and a woman—and in the heat of their excitement, they took no notice of us. My companion, whose name I'd later learn to be Sharon, drew me down onto the floor.

Sharon pushed my skirt up until it bunched around my waist and pulled off my cotton panties. She twirled them a couple times around her little finger, eyes slanting mischievously. "Cute," Sharon said. "Like something my grandmother would wear." Then she tossed them aside and went down on me.