Alexis roused me from sleep. I blinked my eyes. The sun shafted into my
bedroom, illuminating all. She took my hand, gently but firmly, lifted me up to
a sitting position in my bed. ³Oh, why have you woken me so early?² I asked,
sleepy-eyed. I lifted my fists to my eyes, rubbed them. Alexis drew me to the
edge of my bed and sat down beside me. Barelegged we sat, our long legs dangling
down off the edge of the high bed, toes just touching the floor. She was naked
except for little bikini panties made of felt. They looked so delicate I feared
they might fall apart if she dove in the pool and swam laps in them. ³Early?²
she
asked. She eased my baby doll nightie off my shoulders, as if to compensate for
her own bare breasts by exposing my own. ³It is 3 p.m., silly, how late do you
expect to sleep?² ³Until six, at least, when the sun is going down, I answered.
³So I¹ll have lots of energy to dance tonight.² ³Oh, I¹m sure you¹ll have
enough,² she replied sweetly. She turned my back to her and began softly
brushing my long locks with a hairbrush. It was made of ivory, from elephant
tusks. ³Why do you like dancing so much? You never bring any men home with
you,² she asked. Every night since we¹d decided to share an apartment, two weeks
ago, we¹d gone out, just the two of us. Sometimes we came home alone, other
times Alexis found a friend, bringing him along. I would drift off to sleep
hearing their travails in the next room. Always Alexis invited me to join,
always I politely refused. The men were all mesmerisingly strong, picked out for
fucking and nothing else. ³Well, tonight I¹ve been invited to a party, in a
hotel
suite, rented specially for the purpose,² Alexis told me. She turned, poured me
tea, offered me a cup. I glanced at the pitcher sitting on my nightstand, the
cup. She was bribing me. She wanted me to come along. I sipped. The tea was
unaccountably delicious. ³Mmmm,² I breathed. I could not help myself. ³Chai,²
she said absently. ³It tastes like spice cookies.² ³I thought you¹d like it.²
Sunset found us slipping out of a cab. I walked hastily, lest my naughtiness be
discovered. There was a wind in the portico, I clasped the hem of my dress and
held it tight-pressed to my thighs. It was still blazingly hot; Alexis had
convinced me to party without my panties on tonight. ³Are you not cooler thus?²
she asked. I had admitted I was a little cooler, perhaps. ³In any event, I got
rid of that pesky hunk for you last night, and you promised me a favor. So no
panties tonight, my little nun. You are going as my pretend slave, and I simply
must make you a little uncomfortable. All in good fun, of course. You may enjoy
yourself as you wish at the party.² ³I hope there¹s a spare bed,² I replied. I
had no intention of joining Alexis in any of the trysts I suspected she had
planned. Alexis had smiled, said nothing. It was true, I owed her a favor.
She¹d ditched a dude for me, so I reluctantly left my panties at home. I¹d
begged her to put them in her purse for me, just in case, but she¹d declined. I
myself wasn¹t allowed a purse, being her pretend slave for the night. That was
another favor I owed her, making her do the dishes all last week in our
apartment
while I played Nintendo. I¹d been smitten by the teddy bear version of Pac Man,
played it constantly when we weren¹t out dancing. The wind caught the rear of my
skirt, lifted it. I¹d wanted a leather skirt, Alexis had insisted on soft-woven
denim. I thought I heard Alexis emit a smirking laugh as my bottom showed. A
doorman opened the hotel¹s gold-rimmed doors for us. We clattered inside, our
heels announcing our arrival to all as we stepped in. The floor was marble,
brightly polished, though carpets lay beyond. Guests and visitors looked up, men
turned their heads in amazement at our beauty, and not a few women also. There
was no wind inside, yet I faced a second worry; I wore a dog¹s collar around my
throat. Alexis had insisted upon it. I scurried across the lobby, Alexis quietly
scolding me and making me walk a slowly as she could, trailing behind me in a
gown that stretched to her heels. She wore only a decorative ribbon around her
throat. She was calm, pleased with herself. I knew her secret, though. Behind
an artfully draped silk sash, her nipples lay bare. The gown she wore, so
elegant, sheathing her in tight black satin, rose only high enough on her bosoms
to cup them from below, leaving the top halves bare, including the nipples. They
stuck out boldly, and the excitement of having them so lewdly, if secretly,
displayed made them stiff even now. If you looked closely at the sash hung round
her neck, draping softly down over her bosoms, you could see the little
indentations where her bare nipples poked into the fabric. Twin tents, they
were, hiding two delicate tent poles. I guessed that her legs, so smoothly
encased at the moment, might be boldly displayed later in the evening. The dress
would be gone, her breasts free, and her legs, invisible now, would be naked and
spread. She had long, firm, healthy legs, skinny almost, wrapped in black
stockings that stretched up to the tops of her thighs. There they were held in
place by garter straps, hung from a belt round her waist. Her hair, elegantly
done, piled atop her head, gave her an air of sophisticated poise. Opera-length
gloves, matching the black of her dress, added a final touch. She wore wristlets
of pearls, five pearl-studded strands binding each of her wrists as if they were
ropes. Put her to a white wall and you¹d think she was tied to it, the pearls
blended in so neatly. As for myself, I had a boldness of my own. I wore a
smart-looking jacket. It matched my dress. Denim, but thin, stone washed Å’til
it was almost threadbare. (Though not quite, thank God! I¹d have refused it if
it was see-through, favors be damned!) My arms and chest were enclosed in the
jacket, but it left my tummy bare. My belly-button was teasingly visible, my
tummy browned by lying in the sun. Below this was my skirt, so low on my hips it
looked like it might fall off. And below the hem of my skirt, which reached just
to the tops of my thighs, was bare leg. I wore stockings, black nylons that ran
up my legs to mid-thigh, with elastic tops to keep them in place; but between my
stocking tops and the hem of my skirt there was nothing. Just smooth, neatly
tanned flesh. Leg-flesh. My flesh. So I had a kind of exposed band of naked
skin both above and below my skirt, while the rest of me, from my leather
booties
right up to my collared neck, was clothed. Alluring, to be sure, and another
reason for me to hurry across the lobby. We reached the elevators, at last. We
stepped inside. We did not hold the doors open for the men rushing to join us.
Quietly the lift rose. I looked at Alexis, she at me. We were alone together.
She reached out, took my hand in hers, squeezed it. We exchanged smiles. The
elevator doors opened near the top floor. Alexis peeked out, saw no one. We
felt cautious suddenly, shy. Together we stepped into the hallway. We followed
a row of doors down to a number; 96. Alexis knocked softly, her gloved hand
protected from the hardness of the wooden door. Voices. The door cracked,
opened. A woman gazed out. She was auburn-haired, dressed in a skirt and vest.
It had long sleeves but was open in front. Her bosoms shifted loosely beneath
it. There was no blouse, no tell-tale bra strap crossing between the open halves
of the vest. Yet she was covered, if she moved gracefully, carefully. Unless a
gentleman chose to lift her vest, perhaps, to inspect the stiffness of her
nipples inside, tenting the fabric in obvious twin little points. ³Come in,² she
breathed. ³I¹m Elizabeth, and you must be?² ³Alexis,² my partner replied. ³And
this is Lisa.² I smiled, did not want to disappoint her. She smiled back. A
perfect hostess, save for her indolence in forgetting her blouse. She closed the
door behind us and slipped a chain across its edge. We were the last to arrive,
I guessed. There would be no more. Room service would have to get special
permission to enter, lest they break the chain. I remembered now; ³Do not
Disturb² had been hanging on a tag from the doorknob. ³Come in, please. Meet the
others,² Elizabeth urged. She turned to me, I thought she would put her arm
round my waist. Instead she slipped her hand up underneath my miniskirt. I
jerked as I felt her palm touch my heinie. ³Ah, you have come well prepared,²
she smiled at me. Frankly she palmed me all over my tush, as if evaluating it.
She traced my cleft with her finger, dividing my cheeks herself with her
lightly-pressing digit, drawing it up my behind until she reached the band of my
dress underneath. ³Very fine,² she whispered. With a swish of her long auburn
locks she turned her head to Alexis. ³A fine bottom, suitable for whipping.
Demanding it, really, don¹t you think?² ³It is hers to do with as she wishes,²
Alexis replied, not turning to look at our hostess. Her dress swished regally
round her ankles. I loved her for her taunting, her refusal. We teased them yet
did not agree to their terms. Perhaps she would be punished for it. Perhaps she
wanted it. A large living room opened before us. We stepped from the entry hall
into it, gazed around. We were sheep, come to dance with farmers at
shearing-time. Handsome men and women greeted us. The men in tuxes, the women
in gowns or skirts, depending on their mood or their age. Some wore collars,
some not. The men betrayed their hopes for the evening with significant bulges
in the groins of their expensive trousers. We were offered drinks, accepted.
Quietly we mingled, chatted, Alexis and I always staying near each other. All
the faces were strange, new. I shivered. I did not want to think about what
might lay ahead, yet it tempted me to speculate. The women looked at me with
knowing eyes, admired my jacket, my skirt. No others touched me, though, save
Elizabeth, who now was safely removed to the far side of the room, chatting with
some man she favored. Yet their eyes, their eyes undressed me, I thought; though
I myself couldn¹t help but stare sometimes at the men¹s groins. Large and
protruding they were, drawing my attention. The men did not complain, seemed to
treasure my glance, hoped for it, accepted it with gentlemanly pride. Did they
stand with their hips thrust out a bit? I fancied they did, just for me, though
I could not be certain. The air seemed strangely still; moist and hot, despite
the soft purr of an air conditioner somewhere.
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