by Ruby Madden
Clara had seductively kissed Amy in the auditioned scene. She took command, but in such a way that Amy, the actress they were all hinged on – could take center-stage and shine. Once again, it wasn’t a literal, physical, overpowering force or approach she used.
No, Clara could mesmerize. Entrance. Seduce. Silently. Quietly. With ease. The most amazing thing of it was she was oblivious to it!
It had made him chuckle despite himself. That and her earnest attempt to play a male role. He knew it would throw her completely off kilt, Clara was so naturally effeminate.
That said, she must have had practice or experience, as she had trans-morphed enough to pull it off. The smart, plump mynx that she was, had pulled her hair up into a tight bun and placed a strategically available boxer hat on her head. She’d managed to find a black marker off the floating chalk board in the audition area. He’d watched her as she’d rolled up her work-shirt’s long sleeves, pull out a small compact mirror from her purse and earnestly draw a mustache on her cute face.
But the thing that had just killed it for him was her stance. He wasn’t damned if she appeared to be wearing a nut-sack in her pants! The baggy khakis were just loose but still snug enough that very clearly, an outline was visible.
How had she pulled that one off?
He’d gotten his answer later when an assistant explained that they’d witnessed her grab a couple of mandarin oranges off the food cart. She’d stepped behind a curtain and it could only be assumed that she’d positioned the fruit in her underwear.
Watching her kiss yet another lovely, sexy blonde woman had created the same response and lust for her, that it had the weekend before at the orgy.
He’d been thankful to have the privacy of the viewing sound-room that he’d strategically made this sole studio available for. The sound-room was conveniently dark from its position and placement – it was elevated not quite a full story above the audition area. The glass windows were the kind that anyone inside could see out of, but anyone from the other side couldn’t see into. He knew history about this particular studio, audition stage and sound-room that most didn’t.
There were casting sofa stories and then there were casting-sofa stories.
He’d made Clara and Amy do the audition not once, not twice, but three times. Not because he was struggling on whether to decide if Amy was the one. He had already decided on Amy, he just needed the rest of the casting team to agree with him, to see it for themselves.
No, the reason the two sexy actresses were put through the torment of redoing the audition was so that Sir V had the time to pleasure himself in the privacy of the sound-room as he’d watched them.
And god-damn if he hadn’t come hard.
Chapter 12
{ L.A. Traffic & Coffee Shop Confessions }
I was circling the drain of desire and arousal. The costumed orgy in the Hollywood Hills mansion over Halloween weekend had altered my known universe. Besides contemplating my serendipitous-like good luck, I was in an afterglow of newfound and illicit sexual delights. In one day, I had experienced many sexual ‘firsts’.
In the afternoon, I’d had my first threesome with my fuck-buddy friends, Autumn and Josh.
Then, in the evening, I guided another threesome with myself and two stunning blonde women at the orgy.
To cap the day, in the wee hours of the evening, I was invited exclusively into yet another encounter by a dominating masked man, the host of the orgy, who had taken me for his pleasure - along with his male sex-slave.
All in one day, over a twenty-four hour period. Me. Clara Owen. It was hard to believe…
“That’s correct, I want it in indigo… Not blue. Indigo, Frederic. Say it with me, i-n-d-i-g-o…” Matteo sighed exasperatedly into his cell.
My best friend, was simultaneously driving his SUV with his right knee, looking in the rear view mirror, jabbering into his cell phone which was precariously clutched between his right ear and right shoulder, while delicately applying lip gloss with one elegantly poised finger – all at the same time.
We were on our way to Barney’s as Matteo had some shopping he wanted to do. I was suddenly lurched forward in my seatbelt when freeway traffic came to a stop. I turned to peer at Matteo who barely seemed phased by the near rear-end accident he would have caused by being too absorbed with the conversation he was having on his cell phone.
He mouthed a silent and apologetic, “Sorry!” in my general direction while attempting to keep his eyes on the road.
I took comfort in knowing that if we crashed during LA traffic on the 101 freeway, at least we were in a vehicle that could favorably handle the impact of a car crash. Matteo’s multi-tasking while driving no longer created the fear it once did. When it came to his very elegant and privileged life, he possessed the same flawless finesse I had witnessed in the gay impresario who had invited me to the private Halloween orgy in Hollywood Hills. It was a character trait common for several of the effeminate, gay men that I knew. I admired it.
Otherwise, my thoughts were elsewhere.
The California sun was setting, the rays of light piercing through my shades, entrancing me even deeper in my erotic reverie. I was alternating between a trio of thoughts - thinking about Halloween weekend, and the audition I’d gone to earlier that week. I was also thinking about my intense solo session with myself earlier that day, in the morning. I woke up most mornings, very aroused.
As my mind danced back and forth between these inter-connected perusals, I realized that my senses were firing up. The sunshine in my eyes, despite the shades, seemed to penetrate deeper than it had before. Even the simple sensation of sunlight upon my skin, as if warmly kissing me, was arousing and stirring. It was numinous, to be so attuned to my physical senses in such an amplified way.
Since the orgy, I had started carrying an extra pair of underwear in my purse at all times as I’d found myself becoming overly wet frequently throughout the day when my naughty thoughts roamed back to remembering those encounters at the orgy. It had been necessary to change my panties more than a few times while at work, in the days following.
All I knew is that I wanted to experience more, again and again…
To add to my already naughty pile of thoughts was what Autumn had shared about her own experience at the costumed orgy.
We had recently gone to our favorite coffee shop to swap stories. We snuck away to a corner nestled on the outside patio, a failed attempt at some privacy, our excitable whispering a dead giveaway as to what we were discussing. Eventually, the other patrons lost interest in us and whatever it was we were discussing that had us both whispering.
Autumn had most of her long, curly, dark red hair pulled up in a sloppy bun atop her head and was bedecked in one of her typical snug, body-baring outfits. Worn out jeans hung low on her hips, highlighting her small waist and toned, flat tummy. Her midriff was mostly bared, with a sexy ghetto, fake-gold waist chain that tapered to a jeweled end on her firm behind. Each butt-cheek of her worn jeans had holes that snuggly revealed her lower ass-cheeks.
As if this wasn’t already sexy enough, her black thong underwear was peeking out because her jeans rested so low on her sexy hips. Her top was only a bit more modest, a snug white cotton halter that boasted a teasing black bra that was barely there and perked up her full, size D, breasts.
Autumn’s tits were some of the sexiest that I had ever seen. I both lusted after and admired her body. I’d long ago given up on paying attention to the incessant gawking and appreciative glances we got, when together, in public. Autumn was extremely confident with her body and loved to flaunt it. For the most part, she seemed more than comfortable with the attention.
When I had asked her how she was so confident in public, Autumn had reminded me how warm or hot it was year-round in sunny ‘So Cal’. As if to say, “Why would I wear more clothing than I do?”
The subject was dropped and I never brought it up again, secretly envious of Autumn’s,
I could give a fuck attitude.
I listened attentively to what she had to share about her experience.
“Clara, it was utterly insane. At one point, they had me on this soft leather table, blindfolded and spread eagle, my fucking wrists and ankles bound to the corners by leather restraints. I was pretty much fucking naked and I can’t begin to explain or count how many fucking hands were on my body. All I could barely process was the fucking pleasure! I mean tweaking, petting, probing, prying, rubbing, barely touching, teasing...”
I loved how she abused the hell out of her favorite word – fuck. I’d long ago become immune to its power-packed punch and meaning when around her.
“So, they just man-handled you like this the entire time?” My eyes earnestly as big as they could get. With Autumn, I hold nothing back – not my words, or my reactions and for the matter, my kisses.
She sipped at her iced coffee drink, “Pretty much. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. It was fucking hot. I’ve been tied up and bound before but only to play with another man, not with a group of strangers! To be fucking blindfolded with no clue as to who or how many were touching me….”
Her voice faded off and I grinned. I knew that she was back in the reverie of her experience that late Halloween evening, early morning.
Who could blame her?!
In between talking and sipping her iced-coffee, she was chewing and tonguing her straw – it was getting more and more tweaked as she shared her experience. I was amused, knowing that this revealed how aroused she was becoming while talking about it.
“So, what was the part that blew your mind?” I asked, referring to the quick phone chat we’d had the day before when making arrangements to meet and talk about the Halloween orgy.
She moved in close to me and pushed her trendy sunglasses down so as to reveal her lovely blue eyes, one of her deep red curls dangling between them.
“Well, at one point, after all these people had fondled me, a man with one of the most gorgeous baritone voices I’ve ever heard, told them that their fucking playtime with me was over. From there, he coaxed them all out, some of them complaining to be interrupted and he firmly reminded them something about his rank in relation to theirs. It was crazy, they fucking shut up immediately and I heard them all shuffling out. He shut the door…”
Autumn was a vocalist and I knew how much of an impact this strange man having a baritone voice would have made on her experience.
I was enthralled and was also amusedly keeping a tally of all the times she used the word fuck. She was saying it even more frequently than usual. This made sense, Autumn talking about sex and using the word fucking like she had sprinkled her entire vocabulary generously with the fuck word salt shaker.
I listened closely as my friend and occasional fuck-buddy shared that the man with the deep baritone voice had politely gained her consent while explaining that he was going to spank her and then use dildos on her, to fuck her with.
What she hadn’t been told was that each dildo would gain in size – width and length – as the session proceeded. He’d denied her any orgasmic pleasure the entire time, telling her to beg for a larger cock-toy over and over again if she wanted to climax until she couldn’t handle the size any longer and stopped begging altogether.
After being penetrated in increasing sizes of small dildos to regular sized dildos to a thick dildo firmly inside her, he’d then brought out a vibe-toy and with the large dildo stretching out her pussy, he’d placed the buzzing plastic piece of divinity on her clit.
Autumn had been forced to come over and over again with the vibe toy and the large dildo inside her, stretching out her pussy walls with each orgasmic quivering until she had begged the man to stop, which he also ignored.
Eventually satisfied that he’d tormented her long enough, he undid her from the leather restraints and had hoisted her off the leather table. She revealed how limp she was from his erotic torture and that she remembered how stretched open her pussy felt.
She shared with me that she’d eventually cried from being brought to orgasm so many times and that she was just grateful to have the large dildo out of her pussy and mercy from the vibe toy. Secretly, she’d appreciated that he’d gone up in respective size of the dildo food chain before forcing her pussy to climax around it from the forced vibe comes. It had taken a couple of days for her pussy to stop feeling sore from the relentless dildo fuck and climaxes.
“It was so fucking violating and so god-damn hot. Clara, I’ve had thick, big cock before and none of them, not one, not ever, fucking made me come like that man’s tactics with those dildos. Dead serious... I haven’t been able to stop playing with my dildo and vibe toys since that fucking party.” Autumn confessed, shaking her head at herself.
I was in awe, practically mute but realized it was my turn to say something. “He never fucked you, himself?”
“Nope. And from what I could tell, that wouldn’t have done it for him. He was hard though, I felt his erection brushing up against my body.”
“Not even a blowjob?” I asked curiously.
“Nope,” Autumn said shaking her head.
“Do you think he came?”
“Nope. Well, maybe. I don’t know,” she said, shifting in her seat. “The man’s a sadist, Clara. Most likely far more extreme than what I experienced. I mean, I was a newbie and we were at a group orgy – so there’s only so much he could do. He probably never fucking intended to come. He gets off on violating women and creating their sexual discomfort and pain. So who knows when he finally came or where, for the fucking matter.” Autumn paused in her assessment and took another sip from her beverage. “Those fucking types are all the same. They can be really sick and twisted and they can be more vanilla. It just all depends. Everyone has fucking kinks, some are more extreme than others, ya know?”
“Well, there’s a difference between a dominating personality and a sadistic misogynist.” I shyly suggested, unsure at this point of whether she’d share her own experience with her as I had promised to do.
Autumn tilted her head, “Someone’s done their homework.” She stated it with a wink, teasing her friend. “So, how about you. What did you get to experience?”
I blushed, and took an eager sip of my coffee beverage. Suddenly mute again, my heart-rate was increasing. I knew she was waiting to hear about my experience. I decided to just dive in, there was no denying her when it came to sex-talk.
“Well, when they first led me in, I wasn’t exactly sure what to do. It was pretty overwhelming. There were about fifty people already, um – err, mingling and you know me, I wanted to watch. So, there was a sofa in the center and the back of the room that no one was using. I sat down and watched the goings-on’s around me. It was very arousing.”
I continued, elaborating on how my threesome with the two stunning blonde women had started. How they had approached me and kneeled before me, waiting for my instruction. I shared with her how I had directed the interaction between the two women and when there had been a satisfactory happy-ending, I’d been summoned away by the host of the orgy. I explained that I had been led up several flights of stairs to the top of the Hollywood Hills home and guided into the middle of a room, blindfolded by an exotic mask.
As if to fast-forward my description, I blurted out, “The man who fucked me is a dom. As it turns out, he was the host of the party, Autumn.”
Autumn’s eyes got big, “Get out. For reals?”
I nodded and continued. “He changed one of the rules – the one about being the top or bottom. He switched it on me. I was more or less taken, by him and another man… at the same time.” I squeaked out the confession as if I could barely comprehend what I was saying.
Autumn was stunned and it showed on her face. “Wow, fuck me. Clara! I didn’t know you had it in you?”
“Neither did I… it was so intense. I liked it more than I care to admit. I felt like such a slut, or something. Kind of, not really. Well, sort
of. Yeah, no – I feel like a very naughty bad girl type, ya know?” I rambled on, not entirely sure what I was saying.
“Ass or mouth.” Autumn asked, ignoring my self-incriminating comments.
“Mouth, you know I don’t do anal. I wouldn’t have allowed it.”
Autumn began to roar with laughter. It must have been hilarious to see my confused innocence slipping away right before her eyes. I began to laugh too when I saw that she was astutely amused with me. The two of us couldn’t hold back with each other, we never had and I suspected that we never would.
“You lucky bitch, you got fucked like I’ve always hoped you would be. It’s about damned time someone just took you and had their way with you. You’re always in control and in charge and I don’t think you even realize this about yourself. So fucking funny you were just taken…” She jested, knowing that I wouldn’t be offended. Autumn was one of the only people who could be so frank with me.
I nodded, agreeing. Not only was Autumn a fun fuck-buddy, she was always open about sexuality and what she knew. Her own experiences comprised of sex with many men in her young life. That said, it was something she wasn’t proud of. She’d finally learned that it wasn’t quantity, but quality that she preferred. She was ever-mindful of my limited experience, and didn’t judge me for it. If anything, in hindsight, I think she was semi-envious of my sexual inexperience. Because of this, she was also protective of me.
We spent another half hour going over the details of the night and our escapades. I learned that Autumn had been led to another luxurious room where she had been more or less left alone to observe, behind a one-way mirror-window of sorts, another woman being taken in the same manner that she herself had just been.
When we went our separate ways, it was with a promise to the other that we’d figure out who this mysterious host was, one way or the other. Neither of us suspected that said host was already working his way into my life.
