Miss Taken
Part 5 of 6 | The Host
We found our host in the kitchen. Alex was his name, and he was dressed in an impeccable blue suit, no tie. His jet black hair was thick, and underneath a lock of hair that didn’t seem to want to behave, his green eyes smiled as much as his mouth did. Michael gave him a massive hug, a few claps on the back, and then he pulled back and introduced me.
A gentleman to no end, Alex complimented me on my black Dior cocktail dress and heels and made a joke about Michael putting on weight and how he could possibly have landed a woman like me. Then he offered us some fresh goat cheese cherry bites and a glass of his favorite sauvignon blanc and declared he’d been waiting to take us on a tour of the house to see the place and meet the people we positively had to meet at these sorts of things. I smiled and took a glass of wine, sipping happily and starting to settle in as we walked and talked, realizing that maybe everyone Michael used to know, some of whom were at this party, weren’t all weirdos or just a little scary.
We walked and talked, sipped and strolled, Alex pulling us along, past scene after scene, sweeping us away with his hospitality, his playful jabs at Michael. We stopped in the drawing room, where another young woman, a redhead naked on a leather settee, two men at either end of her slowly fucking her. She writhed and moaned around the cock in her mouth, pushed back against the cock sliding into her ass. I couldn’t look away.
She whimpered and whined, her body shaking as he brought her close again and again, taking her right to the edge of orgasm and then pulling his fingers away to her breasts, her thighs, her throat. His words ever in her ear, soft praise for the vision of beauty in the mirror. I watched her as she drifted in and out of the room, her pleasure mounting, the pain of her nipples fading, riding the high. Her lids were heavy now, eyes blinking the room into focus, until it faded into a haze again. Not once did she falter or fall. She didn’t budge from her perch, and I envied her for that.
“Almost done, my darling, and then you will be ready to rejoin the party.” The party - a memory triggered, a flash of something. Warm fires, soft lighting, men and women crowding around sensual scenes. My mind latched onto a name, but it flitted on the edge of my vision, avoiding capture.
When I saw the woman in the mirror again, her belly was wrapped in a sleek black corset. Cool to the touch and snug against her skin. He tightened it again and again, then brought the central belt around and buckled both her wrists into place behind her. I watched him gently lift her breasts, laying them over the shiny leather, her soft, creamy skin in striking contrast to the supple material. Next came a matching piece of patent leather that she understood immediately. I felt her heart leap, a spike of fear, her breathing coming harder now, panting, drooling, anxiety building. But he was quick with his words as he slipped the fitted hood into place.
“Shhhh, now, my darling. A new beginning for you. A new look. See how pretty she is, how beautifully she gives herself.” His words melted into her, touching her heart, calming her fears. I heard her mewling as he slid the hood on and buckled it around her head. As the last buckle was secured, I blinked and felt my long blonde hair pulled up tightly through the notch in the top. When I found her in the mirror again, her eyes peered out at me from the stark black of the mask, her mouth open and panting, tongue still glistening. But it was her eyes I was drawn to - open, welcoming, speaking volumes to me. Her gaze touched me, pulled me toward her, invited me in. I could hear her words mixing with his - acceptance and praise, desire and need, wonder and fear and a thrill she’d never felt and didn’t want to experience alone. Would I join her on her journey?
“Almost done, my darling,” he said. “Do you see her? Is she speaking to you? Open wide, my darling, and give her your words. You won’t need them anymore.”
I watched her mouth open wider as he leaned in, his arms wrapping around her. He fitted the thick gag into her mouth, a rubber cock pushing into her, pressing her tongue in and down, lying softly at the edge of her throat. He buckled it behind her, his eyes easy, his smile warm, words of praise falling from his lips into the depths of her soul. “What a very good girl you are, my love. My beautiful darling.” She sucked on the cock, and I could feel it in my mouth, filling me, reminding me of the emptiness between my legs and how I longed for his touch. How desperate her eyes had become, and I wondered what words mine spoke now that my mouth was silenced.
