by Thomas Briar
“Don’t lead anyone to think you want to have sex with them and then suddenly change your mind. Be cordial and friendly but not overly so. Remember, your purpose here is to incite sexual desire in these people without giving them the impression you are available. So no flirty eyes directed anywhere except toward me because in this house it will be interpreted as an open invitation. Got it?”
“Okay. I’ll make sure to stick with you all night.”
“That would be wise.” Evan reached to push the doorbell when the door suddenly opened.
“Welcome, Mr. Evan. Forgive me for the short delay.” A liveried manservant held the door open. He appeared to be approaching sixty years old with a balding head and stooped posture.
“Hello, Charles.” Evan stepped through the doorway into the foyer with Kara on his arm. “I hope we’re not imposing by showing up here a little late.”
“Oh, no sir. Your presence is always welcome here, no matter the circumstances. Why, just this morning Mr. Lance expressed how much he is looking forward to this coming Saturday’s performance. He thinks it will trump anything you’ve done so far.”
Kara glanced around at the rich hardwood décor of the room, recognizing straightaway that the rustic ambience denoted masculinity. She thought it also declared old money drawing interest.
“So he’s read the script?”
“No sir.” The servant’s eyes gleamed triumphantly. “I read all of your scripts to Mr. Lance. He says I have a perfect pitch and tone of voice to narrate your masterpieces. I especially enjoyed this last one because the premise appeals to one of my sexual fetishes.”
Evan grinned. “I’m glad you approve of it, Charles. By the way, this young lady on my arm is Ms. Kara.”
The servant bowed. “It a very great pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kara. You couldn’t have picked a better escort.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, Charles.” Kara stifled the urge to bow back since Evan had shown no such deference to the man. She added, “And I couldn’t agree with you more. Evan is a consummate gentleman.”
“Yes ma’am, he certainly is.”
“Say, Charles? Has the exhibition started yet?” Evan glanced toward the empty hallway leading out the rear of the foyer.
“No sir. We have quite the treat this evening. One of our guests has agreed to play the queen for us tonight. And her personal attendants have the longest—oh, my… I almost gave away the most exciting part. You’ll have to forgive me for my loose tongue, Mr. Evan. Seeing it in person will prove much more interesting than any inadequate description that I can give. Now if you will both please follow me into the ballroom.”
Evan and Kara fell into step behind Charles to enter the hallway. More hardwood covered the walls and floor and electric lighted sconces made the lacquer on the wood glisten. For the first time in her life she realized how hardwood décor also lent the impression of austerity.
Despite her unwavering trust in Evan, she couldn’t suppress the feeling of being out of place, like this house catered only to men and their masculine desires. Upon turning a corner, the distinctive melody of lighthearted piano music combined with the rising and falling of chattering voices grew louder with each step. Peeping over their escort’s shoulders, she saw a crowd of people through the open doorway at the end of the hall. Charles stood aside to motion them forward to make their entrance.
“Thank you, Charles,” Evan said in passing.
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Evan.” Charles bowed.
Kara glanced around awestruck as they entered. A humongous crystal chandelier glistened brightly under the domed ceiling three stories above. Two decorative staircases ascended upward from either side of the entranceway into the second and third stories. The landings above encircled the room on three sides and acted as balconies. Several well-dressed men and women stood conversing on the second story landing. She saw no one in evidence on the third story landing.
Thinking this room resembled an opera house, it was only then she noticed the long curtains hiding what she thought must be a stage set into the forward wall, roughly fifty yards distant. Perhaps as many as seventy people of different races milled about the main floor area, all finely dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns.
The chattering of voices continued to rise and fall in volume as Kara let Evan weave them though the crowd toward a long bar on the left hand side of the room. A few of the guests turned to watch them pass. She couldn’t help thinking her yellow sundress wasn’t doing anything to help them blend in.
“Evan! You made it! I’d about given up on you,” a dapper older gentleman with an eagle-like face and a head of thick, silver hair called out from his standing position in front of the bar. He towered above every other man in the room at approximately six feet eight inches. He had the good fortune to also possess the enviable athletic build of a man twenty years his junior.
Evan smiled at the acknowledgment and drew Kara closer to his side. He cast a cautious glance her way before angling them directly toward the man. Upon arriving within arm’s reach of the fellow, Evan nodded politely, but did not release Kara’s arm to shake hands.
“Hi, Lance. I’ve been running late since waking up this morning. Charles told me we haven’t missed the exhibition yet. So maybe I’m catching up a little after all. Who can say for sure? I’m just glad we made it in time.”
“I am too because I want to tell you I think your new script is the best one yet. I can hardly wait for you to put on a show for all of us. Speaking of which, is this beautiful angel on your arm the young lady who will perform with you?”
Evan’s smile started to look a little fake to Kara. She’d picked up on his unspoken warning to be cautious of this man. She couldn’t help wondering why she should be so. In absolute obedience to Evan’s former instructions, she smiled and bobbed her head at the man, but said nothing. Her thought process decided that the less she said the better the evening would fare for her.
“Yes, she’s the one. Her name is Kara. She’s never performed in front of an audience before so I’m thinking it should be interesting come Saturday to see if she’s got what it takes.”
The gentleman’s black eyes became lecherous as he regarded Kara as though he entertained the fulfillment of some secret sexual fantasy. “We could put her on stage tonight if you’re having reservations about her performance on Saturday. It could be sort of a coming attraction before we get to the main exhibition tonight.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to doing that,” Evan conceded, and then paused as if having second thoughts. “Except for the fact I haven’t fucked her yet and I don’t intend on anyone—not even myself—fucking her in front of an audience until she wants it to happen. Besides, just look at her; she’s definitely not ready tonight. So I suppose we’ll all have to wait until Saturday to see if she’s going to be ready.”
Lance’s shoulders slumped and his face twisted into a scowl. “I knew you really wouldn’t agree to it. You and your fucking integrity get on my last nerve, Evan. Why couldn’t you have just played along? We wouldn’t hurt her.”
Kara immediately felt the muscles in Evan’s arm tensing up as if he was getting prepared to do battle. She waited on edge to see what would transpire between the two men. To her surprise, Evan grinned.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t, Lance, but I still have to say no. I brought her, so I have say-so over what she does and doesn’t do. And I say she’s not getting on stage.”
Lance’s countenance turned sullen. He looked Kara over from head to toe several times. All of sudden something akin to recognition flickered in his eyes. He addressed her directly. “Have we met somewhere before? You’re starting to look very familiar to me. Might it have been at a society function somewhere here in Atlanta?”
“Possibly,” Kara answered with her worst fear of all surging up inside her. She quickly thought up a lie to throw the man off her scent. “Didn’t you give a speech at the—uh…uh…I know the name like my own…if I could only remember it.” S
he snapped her fingers several times as if trying to help joggle her memory.
“The Slater House,” Lance conjured up a name. “I received a humanitarian award for my continued support of their women’s shelter three months ago.”
“Yes, that was it. Your speech was moving and we shook hands afterward as I recall.”
“Honey, we did more than that in the back of my limo if you’ll only search your memory. You are an amazing cocksucker.”
He smiled a look of superiority onto Evan. “I don’t know why you think she’s not ready, Evan. That evening she was ready to do anything I wanted. I just happened to only want a blowjob. And, as much as it pains me to say it, I think you’re being duped by a slut posing as an innocent young piece of ass. I assure you my driver can verify my story. He enjoyed sloppy seconds.”
“You’re mistaken. That wasn’t me,” Kara stated, determined to defuse this situation before it got out of hand. She didn’t dare to look at Evan for support because she feared he might be regarding her with a doubtful countenance.
“Your tongue is pierced, dear. I remember that clearly. And how could I ever forget those luscious lips. They were stretched so thin around my fat cock.”
At this assertion, Kara glanced at Evan to see relief cascading over his face. He began chuckling. She smiled beautifully and waited for the other foot to drop.
“What the fuck is so funny, Evan?” Lance glanced back and forth between the two of them.
“You’ve just proven that you’re mistaken.”
Without warning, Lance’s large right hand shot outward toward Kara in an apparent attempt to grasp her by the chin.
Thankfully, Evan was not to be outdone. His left hand darted up to intercept Lance’s wrist and stop his hand mere inches from achieving its goal. A silent stare-down between the two men ensued. The tension in the air became palpable.
Evan broke it by saying, “Stick out your tongue, Kara, and show him the truth.”
She quickly obeyed while the shame of her exhibition seeped over her. It wasn’t arousing, this shame, only interesting in an ‘I’ve never been ordered to show off my tongue in public before’ type of scenario.
Evan smiled. “Do you see a piercing or any type of hole or scarring, Lance?”
Lance shook his head. A reddish coloring infused his face. He inclined his head. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Ms. Kara. I obviously made an incorrect observation. We must have only shaken hands like you said.”
Evan released the man’s wrist. “No harm done, Lance. I’m sure anyone could have made the same mistake. We all have twins walking around out there somewhere.”
“Of course, I’ll leave you two now to enjoy the evening. It was a great pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kara. And Evan, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you two again this coming Saturday.” Without delay Lance stalked off into the crowd.
Evan escorted Kara to the bar. He rapped his knuckles the top of the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “We’ll have a shot of whiskey and a glass of champagne.”
The bartender poured the drinks and slid them across the bar.
“Thanks,” Evan said. He handed Kara her champagne and then tossed back his shot of whiskey in a single gulp. He didn’t order another. Winking at her, he weaved her through the crowd, offering polite greetings in passing to the various men and women who made eye contact with him. She followed his lead and did the same. They ended up standing directly in front of the stage, several yards away from any of the other guests.
He leaned down to whisper into her ear. “You certainly have poise, girl. You didn’t even flinch when Lance made his grab for you.”
She took a sip of her champagne. “I trusted you to stop him. If you remember, you once said that you wouldn’t ever let anything happen to me in your presence. I took you at your word.”
He smiled with admiration filling his eyes. “You look beautiful tonight. And I love the way your figure fills out all the right places in that dress. The color yellow really suits you. Plus, your perfume is intoxicating.”
“Thank you.” Kara smiled up at him, noticing again for perhaps the fiftieth time how great he looked and also smelled tonight. She categorized the latter as clean soap combined with a hint of musk. As afterthought, she added, “You look and smell really nice too.”
He transitioned into holding her free hand. “I’m starting to really like you, do you know that?”
She took a sip of champagne, enjoying the intimacy they shared. “Please remember to tell me that again some other time when we have a bit more privacy.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he warned. “I might surprise you.”
“And don’t you tempt me with a good time.” She giggled. “I’ll climb right on board every time.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure you would.”
“Try me later tonight and I’ll prove it to you.”
A comfortable silence engulfed them as the lighting in the room dimmed. The curtains opened up to reveal the stage. A lithe woman in a form-fitting black latex bodysuit stood in the center of a spotlight. She appeared twentyish and very attractive with short blonde hair and a slim face.
This woman held her arms out as she addressed the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please? We’ve got a great exhibition in store for you. Her name is Isabella, and she has agreed to queen for us this evening. She revealed to me earlier in private that queening in front of an audience is her number one unfulfilled sexual fantasy.”
A few cheers from the audience echoed around the room and the blonde bobbed her head in deference. More cheers followed.
The blonde motioned her hands for silence. “Now, we’ve all been there, haven’t we? We’ve struggled at some point to find the right person or persons to help us achieve our heart’s greatest sexual desire. And so, all of you know as well as I that unfulfilled sexual desires can affect a person much like an untreated illness does. It twists us all up inside and gnaws away at us until we are only a shell of our former selves. The only cure to keep from finally succumbing to despair and then sheer madness is the achievement of said fantasy. Thankfully, in this house we can all be as we were meant to be. Beautiful, desirable, and uninhibited! Please put your hands together for Queen Isabella and her loyal subjects!”
Amidst the cursory applause, the orator took a deep bow and walked off stage as the truth conveyed in her words seeped into Kara’s heart. She inadvertently glanced up at Evan. She could tell by the approbation displayed in his face that he also identified with the declaration. She squeezed his hand tightly to let him know she now understood why he continually urged her to never give up her strange sexuality under the pressure of other people’s negative opinions. His reasons seemed transparent to her now. He’d always had her best interest at heart.
In this moment of clarity she let herself embrace her great love for him, wholly and completely. She forced her gaze back onto the stage to keep him from discovering her ascension into love.
The spotlight shifted toward the left side of the stage where a fortyish brunette with a pale white face and an upstyle hairdo was being attended by two young, attractive female attendants. One of the attendants was platinum blonde and other dishwater blonde. They both wore knee-length, sheer white chemises that wafted about their supple bodies and teased of their nakedness underneath.
The object of the attendants’ attentions—a very shy Queen Isabella—wore an elegant Victorian bodice gown. The attendants made a sensual affair out of undressing their queen. Every accoutrement of the woman’s Victorian Era garb was slowly removed and then placed into the hands of another set of female attendants who never once stepped into the light. The queen eventually stood naked before the audience.
Surprisingly, at least to Kara, the woman’s confidence seemed to grow exponentially. She stood proud and unashamed of her nakedness. And no, she didn’t have the perfect body. There were definite signs of age in the way her full breasts sagged and her lower stomach pooched out s
lightly over her pubis. A C-section scar stood out in relief above a well-groomed landing strip of pubic hair. Beneath this landing strip her pussy was shaven clean.
“Wow!” Kara whispered to Evan. “I’m so envious of her. She’s so confident. Just look at her!”
He made no reply, only kept his eyes focused on the stage. But he did squeeze her hand in response.
She continued to stare as the blondes escorted Queen Isabella over to a claw-foot tub set up on the opposite side of the stage. The spotlight revealed her every curve, even the speckles of cellulite appearing and disappearing on her buttocks as she moved. The blondes held onto Queen Isabella’s arms as they directed her into the tub.
With this accomplished, the attendants knelt down on either side of the tub to reach over the rim and start bathing their queen with bars of soap held in their bare hands. The queen’s face revealed her delight at the slippery hands moving so sensually over her body.
In time, the hands began lingering on the supple flesh of her breasts and taut nipples. The queen’s expression became wanton. She stared at her breast’s manipulation while periodically licking her lips.
Then the blondes’ hands and fingers abandoned the nipples to drift beneath the rim of the tub so Kara couldn’t see what was going on. She had to rely only on the queen’s facial expression for hints.
Her imagination kept an even pace with the queen’s expressions. When the queen opened her mouth in the semblance of a big ‘O’ while panting loudly, she determined the blondes were touching her pussy and possibly rubbing it extra good to make sure it was properly cleaned.
At one point Kara was certain from the surprised way the queen suddenly gasped that one of the blondes must have inserted a soapy finger into her rectum. With this supposition, her own face flushed hot and her internal temperature spiked. She swallowed the profusion of saliva permeating her mouth as her clitoris swelled with arousal.
She instinctively knew what the soapy finger must portend for the queen, surely as she knew the definition of queening. Her palms became moist and her heart thudded so hard it felt as if it might thump out of her chest any second now.
