{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"cf29be50-849b-497f-a27a-3b5f98327b55","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2023-06-23T15:20:40.468Z","title":"The Party","slug":"the-party","shortId":"l9HWuW6U","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"A dinner and a show for an audience of discerning guests","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"3afa3968-c146-4da8-818f-9a43df08d0ad","title":null,"summary":"I watched on the sidelines as the guests were finishing their dinner. I wasn't sure if they were awa","wordCount":3748,"readTime":19,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

I watched on the sidelines as the guests were finishing their dinner. I wasn't sure if they were aware of my presence. I had not joined them, of course, as was my custom. I had been preparing. And now it was getting to be time to give them what they were all truly waiting for.

I stepped out and got their attention. \"Lady La Vierge, Lady Viola. And others. Have you found everything to your satisfaction?\"

Lady Viola raised her ever-critical gaze to me. Most would shrivel under those hard eyes. But not me. She twirled the wine in her glass, looked down, seeming to consider it. Then she raised her eyes again. And smiled . . . almost. \"Yes,\" she said slowly. \"So far.\"

That, I knew, was as much of an endorsement I would get from her. So I nodded with satisfaction. \"Excellent.\"

Then Lady La Vierge spoke. The expression on her face was far closer to an actual smile. \"You are a man of excellent taste,\" she said.

\"Well, I knew that,\" I replied.

\"The lamb was perhaps a bit dry,\" said one of the other women. Can't say I remembered her name at the moment.

\"Ah,\" I said, \"so that should suit you fine, then.\"

Lady La Vierge let out a brief giggle. The other woman looked far less happy.

\"What have we next on the menu?\" asked another of the guests. If I'm not entirely mistaken, her name might have been Anna.

\"What comes next,\" I said. \"Is tonight's entertainment.\"

\"Oooh, do tell!\"

\"I never tell,\" I replied. \"I show.\"

\"A show?\" asked Lady La Vierge.

\"As perceptive as always. Yes, darling. A show. Is everyone ready?\" As I spoke the last words, it was Lady Viola I was looking at.

As others were nodding, eager, she but inclined her head minutely. \"More or less.\"

\"Wonderful. Please, ladies, then follow me. Everything has been prepared in the other room.\"

I let them finish with their drinks and then they all followed after me. I led them to the large ballroom adjacent to the dining hall.

As we walked in, the room was dark. I let them get used to the gloom, told them to draw the door closed behind them. Then, after a half-minute's time standing there in anticipation, I clapped my hands.

The lights came on.

As soon as they did, everyone's attention was immediately drawn to the center of the ballroom, where a small stage had been erected, about half a meter high.

A muscular man, naked save for the leather hood, his eyes and mouth covered, stood on the stage. There were no shackles or binds about him, yet he stood there perfectly still, obediently and meekly. Waiting.

Soon two more women stepped in from the side-door, striding to the stage and climbing onto it, standing on each side of the slave.

Wanda and Ilsa. My lovely assistants. Well, \"lovely\". . . if you happened to be completely insane.

\"Please, everyone take a seat,\" I said. There were chairs arrange before the stage. Everyone followed my advice. \"Drinks!\" And a couple of waiters sailed out, drinks laden on their trays.

Once everyone were all set, drinks in their hands, I snapped my fingers. Wanda barked an order, and the slave was on his knees faster than thought. He leaned forward to lower himself onto his forearms. Wanda placed one spike-heeled boot against his back and then hopped to stand on him. Those heels pressed into his skin as she balanced there, but although there was no doubt it hurt he uttered not a sound. She spread out her arms to the audience, and there was mild applause.

Ilsa walked in front of the slave and uncovered his mouth. She then stuck the toe of her boot to his mouth and he started to suck on it right away.

\"As you may see,\" I told my audience. \"The slave has been instilled with most unwavering compliance.\"

\"Yes,\" said Lady Viola, not sounding so impressed. \"That really is to be expected, is it not?\"

I smiled at her. \"Quite right. And yet.\" I gestured.

Wanda pressed one booted foot against the back of the slave's head to press it to the ground. At another order, he extended one arm, placing the hand flat against the ground with the palm down.

Ilsa gave the audience a look, to make sure they were watching. With a small smile on her thin, crimson-painted lips, she lifted one leg.

And before anyone knew precisely what to expect, she brought down the leg, hard. The heel of her boot landing right on the middle of the slave's hand.

I observed the audience. These were hardened sadists, to a woman. Many winced a bit. Only Viola's expression was almost blank, save for that satisfied twinkle in her eyes, the almost imperceptible smile.

Lady La Vierge did not seem too impacted, either. Except that she did seem to like what she saw.

The slave still did not make a peep.

Ilsa gave me a questioning look, and I nodded. She lifted her foot off the slave's hand. Then she went behind him. At my nod, she kicked him hard right on the balls. He jolted a little, but made no sound. Wanda was smiling as she was balancing on top of him. Another kick, another jolt. No sound. After a third one, I signaled for Ilsa to stop.

She next brought out a suitcase and opened it. Meanwhile, Wanda stepped off the slave and closed his mouth-flap again. The slave was ordered to stand up.

Ilsa brought a twenty centimeter by twenty sized metal plate with blunt-ish spikes, close to each other, jutting out of it. She placed it on the floor in front of the slave.

At an order, the slave stepped onto the plate, standing on one foot. He showed remarkable balance.

Wanda and Ilsa got themselves a whip each. Ilsa opted for a riding crop, whereas Wanda went for a bullwhip. Ilsa positioned herself before the slave and Wanda went behind.

\"Obedience,\" I told my audience. \"Is not only about doing what is commanded. It is about being what is commanded. Power, my dear ladies, as I'm sure you all know, is about taking what's his and making it something that's yours. His actions, yes. But also his soul. The will of your soul taking the place of the will of his soul. That's what it's all about.\"

\"Is this a theology lecture now?\" asked the woman whose name I care not remember.

\"Almost anything can be that,\" I replied. \"Look around you. Does this not look a lot like a cult?\"

\"Just hurt him for your amusement and save the pretentious posturing.\"

\"Hurt him . . . \" I mused. I cast the impertinent woman a hard look. \"Have you ever been in the receiving end?\"

\"I have not,\" she said, haughtily.

I smiled. \"How unfortunate. I'm sure it would suit you better than you think. Who knows, you might even enjoy it . . . not that it matters.\"

She looked angry, but couldn't seem to find a proper way to respond.

I sighed. \"Ah, well. There's more pertinent things at hand.\"

\"Shall we?\" asked Wanda.

I waved a permit.

And the whips started pelting flesh. Wanda lashed his backside, Ilsa targeting his belly, thighs, and cock. With each strike at his cock, the thing got harder. The slave swayed this way and that under the attack, but he neither lost his balance nor made a sound.

The audience seemed moderately impressed by this. But more importantly, they looked entertained. That is, after all, all I ever ask.

After some time whipping, I ordered my assistants to stop. There was nothing more there to show.

The slave was ordered to step down, and the assistants came to stand around him. They then walked him over to the side where stocks had been bolted into the stage. He was bent forwards and attached. Then the assistants got themselves a strap-on each, and a portable battery. The two-headed strap-on had a rubber end which went inside the woman and a metal end which was meant for the one getting fucked. The women set up the battery, and drew wires to attach to the metal part of the strap-on.

I observed my smiling audience. \"Yes,\" I said. \"Let's not let him off too easy, shall we?\"

When everything was ready, they lubricated the slave's ass and the dildo Wanda was going to be shoving in there, and unflapped his mouth. Then they turned up the battery and started fucking him.

Among the buzz of the electricity, there was perhaps just the smallest sound of grunting as they violated the slave from both ends. I observed the audience, and they seemed tickled by this enhanced raping. It was, after all, a most satisfying sight for them, seeing a man treated this way. I can only ever guess at the sense of vindication in the minds of the sex whose members have for millennia been subjected to this sort of violation, now watching the representative of the violator at the receiving end.

Yet I knew such a thing, such ressentiment, was by far not the only motivator of their pleasure. It was merely the dark aspect of the human nature showing itself, shared by women and man alike, taking pleasure in the suffering, in the demeaning, of another. The motivations, the psychological triggers, were many and could not be easily summarized. But what beauty there was in female cruelty! What poetry in the victimization of the male. The masculine and the feminine forces in such lovely disarray.

Once again, I did not let this go on for too long, so as to not risk boredom in my audience (there was no risk of that for either the raped of the rapists).

Next I addressed my audience. \"I will need a couple of volunteers.\" Before all hands even had time to rise, I said, \"Ladies Viola and La Vierge. If you would be so kind.\"

The two stood and came onto the stage. \"We will certainly be glad to participate,\" said Lady La Vierge.

Lady Viola, by contrast, said nothing.

I decided to try and engage her. \"I am well aware, Lady Viola, that you are quite the connoisseur of detail.\"

\"What do you mean?\" she asked.

\"I mean what I say. And no more.\"

\"How do you expect me to reply if you speak in riddle, you silly man?\"

I chuckled. Then I looked upon the remaining audience on their chairs. \"Surely I am not the only one who loves her fervidity?\"

\"What's fervidity?\" asked the impertinent woman from the audience.

\"It's a word. Now, lovely ladies, Viola and La Vierge. Look at our slave there.\"

\"We see him,\" said La Vierge.

\"And what do you think?\"

She shrugged. \"He is lovely. Love those buttocks. So firm. I'd like to lash them.\"

\"Very good.\"

\"He is meek,\" said Lady Viola. \"I like that. He knows his place. As a slave should.\"

\"Quite right.\"

\"Why do you ask?\" said Lady La Vierge.

I shrugged. \"I am simply curious about your take on him. More or less what I expected, really. Based on what I've observed.\"

I waited for a little while, kept them guessing as to what next. Then I spoke again.

\"So, Lady Viola. The Violator! What would you like to see?\"

She narrowed her eyes at the Slave. \"I would like to see him fucked by a bear!\"

\"Yes . . . you would, wouldn't you.\" I sighed. \"Alas, no bears were available for today's show. Perhaps something a little more practical?\"

The way she looked at me then ALMOST made me look away. A most frightening woman, I will admit that any day.

\"This is your show,\" Lady La Vierge then reminded me. \"We do not need to tell you what we want.\"

\"Quite so,\" I said. \"You make a good point, of course. As always.\"

\"And?\"

\"And.\" I clapped my hands. \"Detach him and bring him over, won't you.\"

My assistants did as told. The slave was brought in front of the Ladies and he knelt even without prompting, lowering his eyes. They took the mouth flap off.

\"Are your boots clean?\" I asked the Ladies.

\"Now that I think of it,\" said Lady La Vierge. \"Mine could use a cleaning.\"

\"Yes,\" Lady Viola said. \"Mine as well.\"

\"You heard them, boy,\" I said. \"Get to work.\"

And the slave crawled forward, started to lick their boots. A little bit of one of theirs, then some of the other's. Doing his best to divide his service equally.

Once he was done with his tongue to their satisfaction, he was ordered to back down.

Next I told him to step on that spiked disc again, using only one foot.

\"Prods,\" I told my assistants, once he was in his place.

They then produced four cattle prods, taking one each and handing one to the both Ladies.

\"I trust,\" I said. \"I need not tell you what I next suggest.\"

\"No need,\" confirmed Lady La Vierge.

\"Four prods, after all, prod better than two. Make sure you get all around. Make it a game! Can you make him lose his balance?\"

They were more than happy to do as I suggested.

And so the four women started prodding the slave all over his naked body. He jolted. He wavered. He even jumped a couple times. And no, he could not keep from crying out a couple times as a sensitive place was hit.

But he stayed on.

The ladies did not seem to mind. They were having a good time anyway.

\"Alright, alright,\" I said after a while. \"I believe that is enough. Can we not agree that he has more than earned some respite?\"

\"I can't say I do,\" said Lady Viola. Yet she also stopped prodding, after giving his balls a couple more hits.

\"He is tough,\" said Lady La Vierge. \"That much I will grant him.\"

\"No,\" said Lady Viola. \"He is not tough. He simply knows his place. Like an animal.\"

\"I will agree with Viola on this one,\" I said. \"This is exactly my point. Toughness would be his. He has nothing. Compliance: that is ours. Our power over him. He is only what we want him to be. What we allow him to be.\"

\"Exactly,\" said Lady Viola.

\"I'm glad we are in agreement.\"

She looked at me. \"When you have a point, I will grant it to you. That's all.\"

I inclined my head. \"I will take that.\"

\"What now?\" asked Lady La Vierge.

\"Now,\" I said, \"you may be seated. Thank you, ladies, for participating.\"

\"Our pleasure.\"

Once the Ladies were back in their seats, the slave was ordered down.

\"Either of you,\" I asked my assistants, \"in need of some ass-licking?\"

\"Always,\" said Wanda.

\"Yes, please,\" said Ilsa.

\"Wonderful. You may take turns. Take the leash.\"

The next number was a simple one. The slave was to be on all fours, while one of the women removed her skirt and underwear and stuck her ass in his face. Meanwhile, a leash with a loop made of wire at the end was fastened to his balls. This should not be too easy for him. So his job was to stick out that tongue of his, doing his best to work that asshole in front of him, while the other woman pulled on the leash. They teased him, with the woman with her ass in his face pulling away just a little so he had to keep reaching, and the one with the leash keeping him back. The wire bit painfully around his scrotum, but he could under no circumstances stop trying to reach the asshole.

The audience giggled quite loudly at this display. The pain and humiliation of the slave as he tried his damnedest to reach that pink, puckered treasure at the end of the rainbow. The hilarity of the assistants teasing him.

After this, once both of their asses had known at least some of his tongue, they made him perform some more tricks for them. Running around in all fours and jumping hoops like a dog. Walking around with both of them standing on his back with their heels. Prance around like a pony. Silly stuff of that manner. They finished off by taking turns pissing in his mouth.

Finally, for being so good, it was time to reward him . . . sort of.

A rope was hanged off the ceiling and his head put through the loop. Ilsa held the rope while Wanda stroked his cock. Wanda started counting each stroke of her hand and with every ten strokes, Ilsa made the rope tighter. The idea was that he had to cum before he ran out of air altogether.

The last trick was that he had to cum at hundred exactly. Otherwise . . . well, he did not want to know.

By the time Wanda reached hundred, he was making a most disconcerting wheezing sound. Then, as he started shaking at hundred, cum squirting out, the rope still held tight, the sound he was making simply defied all description. It's like he was some animal never heard before.

What had we made of him?

Once Wanda was done with his cock, Ilsa released the rope. The slave almost slumped onto the floor, but managed to catch himself, leaning on his thighs and struggling to find his lungs.

Wanda, having caught his cum onto her other palm, granted him the mercy of gathering himself a moment. Then she went and extended her hand at his face, hand he painstakingly leaned over to lap his own spunk out of her hand.

\"Do we not owe him applause?\" I asked my audience.

And applause he got. And jeers. Even I was moved to clap.

When the cum was gone, the audience silent, and the slave more or less back to normal, I stepped to the front of the stage to get everyone's attention.

\"There is one last surprise,\" I said. \"For you . . . and for him.\"

Enjoying the sense of anticipation, I then finally snapped my fingers.

All heads turned at the sound of door opening. From the side door someone slowly walked into the room and toward the stage.

The audience began to trade enthusiastic comments. And who could blame them?

With a grin I watched as the large, naked man walked over. I glanced at the slave. He was making a show of not presuming to look. But in his stance I could see terror.

And who could blame him?

The man reached the stage, stepped up on it. The attention quite traveled to the lower end of his front, out of which stood a most erect cock of admirable proportions. The women were smiling. Because they liked what they saw or because they knew what he entailed? With women, I could never be sure.

\"Well, then,\" I said. \"I believe we all know what's next.\"

\"Don't be gentle!\" cried that woman, Anna most likely.

I motioned at my assistants. They pressed the slave to his knees. His mouth flap was open already.

The big man with the big cock stepped forth. The slave was seemingly motionless. Motionless as a dear at the scent of a lion.

The assistants grabbed the slave's head as the man proffered his cock toward his mouth. He opened compliantly.

And then he was sucking it.

Yes, you could see that the practice with strap-ons had born fruit.

The audience watched, mesmerized, as the man fucked the slave's mouth. Slowly at first, but at increasing speed. The women let go of the head and the man took it over. All the meat going in that mouth, all the way in yet the slave did not gag. Practice.

Once the man had had enough, he pulled out. Next the slave was bend over, his head to the floor and ass up. The man went behind him and easily lifted up the rump. He spat on his cock and rubbed it in with one hand.

It did take him a moment to then ram his cock into the slave's ass, but not quite as long as you might have thought.

Then the fucking started. It had to be handed to him, the slave took it all very stoically. We all knew this was not his favorite experience of the day. Not even second.

The women cheered and cried encouragements as the man went on. There was little doubt about them loving every moment of this.

Then, before the going got too monotonous, the man grunted as he came. He thrusted a while longer, finished with a few hard ones, and pulled out.

As one more act of desecration, the man walked to the front of the slave and made him suck his cock a little longer to get it cleaned. Then, without another word or motion, the man walked out the same way he came.

There was quite the applause then. Whistles. Bravo's.

The assistants made the slave squat and empty the cum out of his ass onto the floor. Then they made him lick it up.

\"And as you can see, dear Ladies,\" I told my audience. \"Our story came to a happy ending!\"

At that, the show was over. I thanked everyone for participating. There were requests for more. But, alas, I had to disappoint. This was all the slave could take for one night.

Some did disagree.

But there was no arguing. I let the assistant deal with the slave and I stepped down the stage.

Someone approached me.

It was the woman with the attitude. \"Look,\" she said. \"I am sorry for being disrespectful.\" She paused. \"You have certainly entertained us tonight.

I knew that it must have been hard for someone like her to show such meekness. So I nodded with a smile. \"That's quite alright. No hard feelings. Thank you for your apology . . . That's a good girl.\"

Before she could react to that, I turned to the rest for one more word. \"I thank you all for attending this night. It has been most lovely.\"

\"We will need to thank you,\" said Lady Viola, quite unexpected. \"It was a fine show indeed.\"

I tried not to show my surprise, although I could not stifle one raised brow. I gave her a bow. \"Thank you, Lady. You are most gracious. And I hope I have been able to provide you something to think back on come bedtime.\"

Lady La Vierge, looking amused, said, \"Until next time, good sir?\"

\"Until next time, Lady,\" I said.

And the guests filed out the room.

Then, as even the assistants had left, it was only me in the room. Only me and the slave, standing still in the center of the stage. What was that which I could read in his position? No, I did not feel like contemplating that right now. He had chosen his path.

The usual melancholy after a successful show was setting in, I realized. Why was I most often left feeling like a man clutching a handful of pearls in front of a herd of swine possessed by demons?

Please excuse my impertinence.

I once again looked at the slave.

And even I could not decide whether or not I should have envied him.

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