A Working Day: Part 4: The Party by Abe Froman (aka ed cantor)

The final (at least for now) installment of this yummy story by my boy, ed cantor. ~ Mistress Magick

[Begin with Part One]
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Part 4: The Party

Oh God. It was working already. He could feel his face hot, picturing the women from the house, the office, searching their faces in his mind and placing on each one the expression of shock and amusement at seeing him like that.

He got dressed, his own clothes feeling so strange over the lingerie. With a deep breath he started back downstairs to check on preparations, and to try to acclimatize himself to acting normal in front of a group of women – one of whom would soon know his deepest secret. The chain swayed across his chest and the silk shirt. Jessica was the first of the two he saw, and she greeting him with a wide smile.

"You look very handsome, Sir."

"Thank you Jessica, but please, no 'Sir' tonight. I'm the host, and you're the guest. Just have fun, and let me know if I can do anything for you."

Another wide smile, so intoxicating, "You've got it, Sir... I mean, Michael."
From then on, things continued to get more challenging. The women from the lingerie company arrived, looking stunning themselves, and carrying a wide assortment of items that would look devastating on any of his anticipated guests.

When the guests arrived, it was like a flood of beauty. Mary Hart should have been filming them arrive, as each dress was more stunning, more clingy, and more perfectly suited to the woman wearing it than the last.

There were push-ups, low cuts, deep backs, flowing fabrics, high slits and skirts so tight they reduced the wearer to tiny steps. His cock was constantly straining at its confinement. He tried to keep his eyes from tracing the curve of each bottom, or diving down each open neckline, but it was hopeless.

When they were all there, he was surrounded by the loveliness of ten women, all of them stunning, all in his employ one way or another. Sara and Jessica working here at the house, Denise his driver, Michelle and Andrea who kept his books, Colleen and Amanda who were the legal department and Joanne, Ally and Christina who made up the secretarial pool.

Throughout the evening he was always on his toes, making sure every drink was full, guiding the muscular servers around to wherever he sensed an empty plate. Those men might look more overtly like objects for the women's consumption, but he knew he was the real toy that evening. He didn't know which of them would be playing yet, but he would be their object.

He kept himself on his feet. There was much to do and coordinate and he didn't dare sit and make it just that much more obvious that his ankles were covered by stockings instead of socks.

Miss Vicki arrived last, looking as innocent as he'd ever seen her. Her dress was simple yet so perfectly fitted to her form it must have been tailored. Light, with soft flowers in a subtle off-tone pattern, it was cut just low enough to stir his heart with her breathing. Another result of its perfect hugging of her curves was that it was absolutely evident that she didn't have a stitch on under it. He forced himself to keep from staring at her all night.

The actual lingerie session was pure torture. The women actually modeled a few of the pieces for the gathering, and as the only man in the room he was a constant focus. He had tried to keep out of the way, but they pulled him forward, wanting to show their potential customers a man's reaction to the various tiny scraps of lace. His body ached due to the cage, the titilizer and lust. Would he see one of these women standing over him wearing these things?

Would he be wearing them?

He noticed Michelle, a rather shy knockout from accounting actually blush at being in the simultaneous presence of her boss and lingerie. Others, Denise most notably, would look to him and smile slowly as she would run her fingers over a particularly devastating piece. The remainder of the guests seemed to act as if it was a girls-only night out. There had been a few bottles of wine opened and emptied by this time, so laughter and emotions were running free.

His mind was a blur, imagining each of them in the various outfits and costumes. He would also catch Miss Vicki's eye, or seeing her particular attention on something, and not be able to tell if she wanted it for her or for him. When all was said and done and the women made their choices and orders, he noted Vicki made sure to be heard ordering at least two items in his size.

The party ended too soon – and not soon enough. Each woman thanked him personally, often with a gentle kiss or a hug that risked expose the chain from his aching nipples. They would tell him that this was just one more reason they loved working for him, smiling and lingering near him, close enough that his buzzing senses were aware of each motion, each breath, each flick of the hair.

He feared their touch but at the same time, after such a sexually charged night, he would have begged to feel their breasts squashed tight against him.

The caterers had cleaned and gone. Sara and Jessica were off to their own quarters. He made his way finally up to his room in dimly lit silence. He heard the sweet voice of his Mistress before he saw her.
"Strip down to just what I've given you." Her voice was a throaty whisper.

In moments his trousers, shirt, jacket and shoes were discarded. He stood before her, eager and hungry, stripped down to panties and stockings and the teasing jewelry on his chest. Vickie pointed to heels waiting for him on the floor. He slid his feet, already aching, into them. Despite the three inches they added to his height he felt smaller.

She hadn't changed her dress. He felt her power, and the innocence of her dress contrasted with her words and what he knew of her true nature. She toyed with the buttons at her neckline, teasing him further.

He received a wide and wicked smile from his Mistress as she began to move around him. Padded leather cuffs went around his wrists, locked together, and she guided them up over his head, pulling his bound wrists down towards his shoulder blades with his elbows out beside his head. She fed a chain from his wrist cuffs down between his legs and clipped it to the cage holding his cock. Any motion of his arms was cruelly translated directly along the chain.

A spreader bar trapped and held wide his ankles. It was even more difficult now to balance on the heels. With him very effectively immobilized, Miss Vicki took just a bit more time to apply a whorish blush and bright red lipstick.

The titilizer was removed and with a soft purr she massaged his aching nipples. As if they were not red enough, she added lipstick to them as well.

Miss Vicki had made sure months ago that he had a full-height mirror on a rolling stand. It was moved in front of him now. His body was tight and strained, the bulge in his panties obscene. Though the lace he could see the steel of the cage. He looked so helpless, so controlled. While he drank in the humiliation, she wrote "SLAVE" across his forehead with the lipstick.

"Will you make me proud, slut?"

"Yes, Mistress, I will." He could barely speak. The anticipation had done its job. His nervous tension seemed to give a haze to his vision and he was sure anyone in the room could hear his heart beating.
"Good, pet. You've got two people to make happy tonight."

He didn't get any answer out before she filled his painted lips with a white rubber ball gag. It pushed past his teeth and held his jaw wide. She helped him down to his knees but even with her support the chain from his wrists tugged at his balls. She smiled at his position and slapped his ass as she moved to the bedroom door. She took one look back over her shoulder to drink in the moment before she swung it open.

At first there was nothing, only the candlelight from his bedroom spilling out into the dark hallway. After a couple pounding heartbeats nervous steps carried her into view. Wearing what had to be his favorite outfit from the party—a pure white satin and lace busier with red laces along with matching white stockings, garters and even white stilettos—stood the previously meek Michelle.

Her auburn hair, nearly always in a bun at work, flowed down in soft waves over her shoulders. The deep tan of her smooth skin set off the lingerie perfectly.

She was taking deep breaths, as her full D-cup breasts heaved in the tight embrace of the bustier. The bustier ended just high enough to display a diamond in her pierced navel.

There was shock and surprise in her eyes, but it didn't last long. It seemed to be vaporized by lust and desire. He noticed now that in one hand she held a black leather crop and in the other an uncomfortably large looking pink rubber phallus.

"Beware the meek ones, slut. Still waters run deep," Miss Vicki whispered and giggled in his ear.

The noise of the heavy door as Michelle slammed it shut behind her might have woken Sara and Jessica but Michael had much bigger worries at the moment.


To Be Continued...


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Read more of ed's work and enjoy his favorite erotic photos at: http://mind-effing.tumblr.com/