Toy Dolls Part 5 Date Friday, April 19, 2024 - 01:36 AM PST Topic Entertainment Disclaimer: Sex ahead, if you are under 21, or if graphic depictions of human sexuality are prohibited in your area please do not read this article. You have been warned. Otherwise, enjoy, Summer vacation is over it's tmie for me to get off my ass and back to the story! "... Now who drugged me?" I stared at them, waiting for an answer. If someone didn't admit to having slipped me a mickey last night I was going to turn and walk back into the crowd. I knew I wasn't going to be allowed to walk out of the house unattended, but I couldn't stay with these people with that question hanging in the back of my mind. I looked at Sketch who I knew was at least in on it, but she shook her head. I looked at Rose, who never seemed to say anything and she just looked back, eyes blank. Francis took the initiative and spoke up. "It wasn't me, but I'll take credit for it if the guilty party doesn't come forward. It sounds like fun." "Thanks Francis, but I need to know who it really was. I can't trust anyone until I at least know why." I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, but not very hard. "Alright, fine, it was me." I looked at RG. I had had my suspicions, but at the same time I'd been hoping it was someone else. I resisted the urge to speak, and let one of those silences form. It was supposed to be the kind of silence you can slip the titanic into, but just then the music stopped and the moment became so intense the titanic could have sailed through under full steam and we wouldn't have noticed. Finally, just as the first strains of 'Little Lies' by Fleetwood Mac began to again fill the room, he spoke. "We had to drug you to get you out of the club. Until you are accepted, you can't know where any of the meeting places are. Can you accept that and just let it drop for the moment?" I thought about that. It was a viable explanation, but I needed to know more. "On a few conditions. First off I want your word I'm not going to leave this or any other club unconscious unless I do it to myself." He nodded, a bit of tension left his shoulders, but crept back in when I continued. "Second, I want to know what this thing is that I may or may not be accepted into, and finally, I want to know what happened to Savage Dream, is she OK? Has that psycho bitch I saw earlier kidnapped her? What?" I trailed off and looked him in the eye. I wanted a drink, but the Chartreuse still hung heavy in my throat and I was in the mood for something with a more honest bite than that. "I can tell you this, you won't be drugged again, not; that is, unless you want to be." Francis leaned over the couch and made a big show of catching a pink pill on his tongue, but quieted when RG gave him a look. "As far as all this goes," His gesture took in our small group, the club and any surroundings I might want to include. "I can only tell you what you already know, we are an elite group, secretive to the extreme, and connected well enough to keep it that way. You will learn more as the night wears on, and if you are lucky you will continue to learn as the following nights merge into the time of your life." He paused to refill his glass, I noticed Raven had a bottle of Johnny black in front of him and made imploring faces until he poured me a glass. The smoky flavor of well-aged scotch cut the fluorescent green taste of the Chartreuse from my tongue and left behind a burn I could handle. I looked at RG one more time. I wasn't done and he knew it. I enjoyed watching him squirm as he visibly made up his mind to continue. "It would be best if you considered Dream as lost to you. Mourn her in any way you see fit, but do not seek her out. She has her own..." He paused, deep consideration made creases in a forehead already well marked with thought lines. "She has her own cross to bear at this time, and it not up to you or anyone save herself what path she will choose to follow. I cannot go into further detail without breaking the bonds of a promise I made to her long before you two met. I hope you can respect that." He refused to meet my eyes at that point and I was sure I could have gotten more out of him, but it was true, I had to respect whatever promise he had made. "OK, we'll leave it at that, for the moment." I let him mull that over while Raven refilled my glass. "Now, what have you, and this place got to offer that will make it worth my while? Remember, you have an abduction, a drug induced hangover," I emphasized this last for every iota of effect. "And a broken heart to buy off with..." I look around "What, free drinks, lightly clad bondage babes and Francis?" This got exactly the effect I was aiming for. RG looked properly abashed, Francis was on his feet and cavorting so fast I must have blinked when he rose, and the rest of them just stared at me. It was Rose that finally spoke, when her soft voice filled the stunned space between us, it was flavored with something I couldn't identify, sadness perhaps. "I think you may fit in better than we expected. Come all, let us show Xeno a good time." And with that they all rose to their feet and I was ushered onto the dance floor. The next few hours went by in a blur. I was dragged across the floor and introduced to more people than I had suspected the building of being capable of holding. The scenery left my mind numb and my libido raging, men and women of all shapes and sizes were clad, it seemed, out of every fantasy I had ever been too sheltered to have. At one point I was expected to make polite conversation with a blond woman wearing little more than a smile and holding the leash of another woman dressed in the tightest leather I have ever seen. The woman on the leash knelt on the ground and I was told she was the slave of the scantily clad beauty with whom I was to make nice. I was having a hard enough time trying to look the blond in the eyes and understand the 'rules of engagement' as she called them, without the slave occasionally emitting pre-orgasmic moans and rubbing on her mistresses boots. The mistress, who introduced herself as Nicolette explained to me that it was considered rude to speak to, or even acknowledge a slave without his or her owner's permission. I nodded and was probably about to make a fool of myself when RG rescued me. As I was whisked from one member of the club to another, I tried to maintain some memory of names, but with the exception of Nicolette and a few others, each and every member was so startling I was too overwhelmed by it all to have much luck. I was sure we were getting ready to end the evening when Bettie appeared and led me by the elbow to a semi hidden door, but far from being an exit, the door led further into the shadows and thankfully to a quieter room. "I thought you could use a breather." Bettie stepped back through the door and I was alone again. "She never wastes words does she?" I looked up and found the smiling face of Francis. He was juggling three small liquor bottles and a silver lighter and he had changed clothes again. This time he was wearing leather straps over a surprisingly well-muscled chest. Maroon leather pants, and a silver-lined black cloak finished up the ensemble. I looked down and noticed he wasn't wearing shoes but had painted both feet alabaster white. "Umm, no, she doesn't. You know anything about her?" It was an innocent enough question, but I was already getting used to Francis and his inability to take anything at face value. "Is she single? Whether she is or not should be no concern of yours me lad, she has her own agenda and I'm almost certain it involves the kind of violence most of these people have never dreamed of. She has a lot of anger bottled up in that rather intriguing body of hers, and I wouldn't want to be the one who gave her an excuse to vent." "But enough about her, let's talk about you. Do you like what you see thus far? Your eyes looked like saucers when Bettie dragged you in here, but your heart has clearly won its race and now its time for the cool down lap. Let's speak of mice and men and merry things shall we?" I decided that either Francis was putting on a good show, or he really was completely insane. Maybe both. "Well, I can definitely say I liked some of what I saw. It's a lot to take in all at once. And I have questions like you wouldn't believe. Like is there really that codified a society built around this whole scene? I was talking to this one chick, Nicolette-" Francis barked with laughter. "Oh my! You've met the lovely Nicolette? And did she have her delectable slave with her? You have had a busy night if you're already being introduced to the real players." He looked over my shoulder and his smile broadened. "But let her tell you herself!" I turned, following his gaze and she was standing behind me, her slave on the leash still crawling behind her. I felt my blood heat up and my eyes travel down. Francis' manic laughter was the only thing that diverted them from their path directly to Nicolette's left nipple. "Darling you must give this poor soul the benefit of the doubt. His thoughts are pure, and his eyes tell us pure what! He has so many questions, and I have so many quests. Let me leave you to his tender mercies-I know yours have nothing to do with tenderness!" And with that he dodged a playful punch and slipped out the door, back into the main floor. I took a deep breath, chastised my wandering eyes and smiled directly into Nicolette's face. "Hello again, umm." I was beginning to feel like I should have the word "Umm" on a placard, it would have saved everyone the trouble of hearing me trail off into silence repeatedly. I caught myself before I repeated the word a second time. "Rose tells me this is your second visit, tell me, how do you like us?" There was a noticeable pause before the 'us', as though she couldn't decide whether or not to include herself, or perhaps someone else in the group. At least she had maneuvered us into a shadowed corner where I found it easier to meet her eyes and not feel like a yokel. "I like you. Um." That was it, all the tension broke over me like a wave. Here I was standing in a room whose decorations I had just noticed closely resembled a medieval torture chamber, complete with rack; everything seemed so serious and somber, but suddenly all I could think of was how silly it all was. I started giggling and in a few seconds it was clear I was going to have trouble stopping. Nicolette reached out slender pale fingers, took the drink from my trembling fingers, and tossed it in my face. I stopped laughing and started apologizing. "I am so sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, it's just been such an intense night with the tranquilizer and the blindfold and the big house and everything is so serious and-" Nicolette lay one perfectly manicured fingernail against my lips and my voice died still-born on my lips, she looked into my eyes. For a moment we were both silent and I noticed her eyes were the most electric shade of blue I had ever seen. Nicolette gently took my shoulders in her hands and turned me a quarter turn. "Sit" She spoke like she was used to being obeyed, and I sat without thinking about it. We had been standing in a booth of sorts, and now I sat on a plush couch across from Nicolette who also sat. I kept my mouth shut, sure I would lose it again if I were to try and say anything more. Nicolette gestured and two cups of coffee arrived a moment later. Still we sat in silence as we sipped quietly. Nicolette looked me up and down but it didn't feel as though I were being undressed or considered for acquisition. It was a measuring look, but for once tonight I didn't feel like I was being measured against some unknown scale. I glanced at the slave when she curled up around Nicolette's feet, but in the shadows it was easier to ignore her. I relaxed and just breathed for a few minutes until I could feel the circuits start to reset in my brain. "Don't speak yet, I know what you are going through. Just relax; enjoy your coffee and listen. It is impossible to have a proper conversation out there." She nodded over her shoulder. "And I can see you are not yet jaded enough to be able to ignore beauty when it is right in front of you. I do not make apologies for our way of life, nor do I apologize for my lack of clothing which makes your eyes wander so flatteringly." I felt the blush rise in my cheeks and hoped the shadows would provide cover. "You are overwhelmed by all you have seen and heard this night, and you have many questions. They can wait. Perhaps I can answer a few of them for you, I know many of them would cause that precious blush to deepen and while I enjoy making my slaves face their fears and insecurities, I do not seek another. I will try to make this a safe moment for you, one in which you can learn and grow." What she was saying had the feel of a speech repeated many times. I wondered if she had introduced many newcomers to the more intimate details of the club. I waited silently and enjoyed the sobering heat of the coffee. "This will, in some ways be a training session as well as an education, you will need to become accustomed to this environment if you are to survive and join us. I am going to direct my slave to lay her head in your lap. You may pet her and touch her as you see fit. If the pressure becomes too great, take a deep breath and make believe you are petting a cat. Slave up!" She snapped her fingers and the slave rose to her feet, the woman's lithe body was still clad in the skintight leather that left nothing to the imagination. I took this as permission and looked to my hearts content. The slave was a beauty; her breasts were the size of my fists and rode low on her chest, not sagging, but naturally low enough to make beautiful the plunging neckline of the top she wore. She had a feline body in an odd sexual way. Her hair was black as dye, and her blonde eyebrows confirmed the look. All in all she was the type I would eagerly fall into bed with, and just as I had had my fill, she slipped onto the bench next to me and lay her head in my lap, facing my stomach. I fought a brief moment of terror when I felt myself becoming erect, but somehow the idea of worrying about it became too ludicrous and I shifted a bit to avoid poking the slave in the ear. I tentatively ran my fingers over her hair and she nuzzled my thigh and sighed happily. I relaxed a bit more and remembered Nicolette. She was sitting patiently while I adjusted to this new source of stimulus. "Well done. I must say I expected at least some crass comment or another bout of hysterics. No don't speak, you run the risk of spoiling my opinion." I closed my mouth and continued to pet the slave. "You have just been given permission to touch my slave, you should be aware that this is not a privilege that is given freely around here. I would not trust her well being to just anyone here in this club, and you should be aware that I am placing trust in you. Just as she trusts me to care for her, both heart and body, I trust you to care for her. If she has needs, it is hard for her to express them, so you must be aware of the slight shifts of her body and the softest noise she makes. She is in what is called sub-space. It is a state of mind in which the slave reaches a submissive place in herself; she has wholly given her trust to me. I do not profess to know you well enough to make judgement calls, but I can see you are new enough to the realities of this lifestyle that you won't take undue advantage of my offer. I can also see by your gentle touch that you won't harm her intentionally. At least not without intending that harm to be fun." Her eyes sparkled as she gestured over her shoulder. A waiter appeared as though by magic and the two glasses of red wine he brought must have been requested earlier. Warmth caressed my crotch and I looked down and saw the slave breathing hard on the cloth of my pants. For a split second I considered panic, but again I relaxed and just enjoyed the sensation. I ran my fingers through the slave's hair and admired the lines of her body. The leather creaked slightly as she shifted against the bench and pushed herself further into my lap. Her breasts strained her top as she inhaled for another wash of warm air and I leaned back and tried to wipe the grin off my face. Nicolette handed me a glass of wine with a knowing smile. "She is a gifted woman my little pet. Tell me, if you can still talk that is, what are you feeling right now?" She sipped her wine and watched my face as I tried to formulate a coherent response. "I'm um, I'm, well, aroused-" "You have no need to be clinical about this Xeno, you can say horny if you feel horny. But I am interested in your emotions more than your bodily functions. What do you feel?" "Horny, very horny." I paused and probed my thoughts to see if there was anything penetrating the haze of the slave's warm breath. "Also protective, tender, I- I don't even know her name, but I want to take care of her...and of course-" "Of course you do. By this point I would have brought in a male slave if you didn't. Your protective instinct is something to be nurtured if you find you enjoy being a Master. Tenderness will engender trust in your slave, and she will feel free to give herself to you more completely. But you must remember to be firm and decisive. There is nothing so frightening to a slave then to totally release control of her actions and then have no direction to follow." "You want to protect her, and that is natural, you have accepted her into your lap, and in a small way you have accepted her reins. She is still following my commands in what she is doing, but she will follow yours should you demand it. I have given her to you for the duration of this evening." I tried to think over the raging hard-on that was taking most of my attention. It wasn't easy, and I could barely come up with a good reason to do so; but I was feeling both exposed and unsure of the extent of this gift. "Thank you I think, but I don't really understand. Do you mean I can do whatever I want with her?" "I mean she will follow your every command. And yes, as an extension of that, you may do whatever you wish. But there are a few strings attached. As I said, I don't know you. I will not be leaving, so either get over your rather obvious discomfort of the publicity of the room, or tell her to stop. Also, I will not be joining you so stop wondering. You may not mark her in any lasting way, and I define lasting as over six hours. Oh, and I have secured this room for the rest of the evening, so I will be the only intrusion on your privacy." The sudden tension that filled the otherwise empty room was so great that I could feel myself starting to wilt. Half by instinct, have in experiment I told the slave "Keep me hard." I looked up at Nicolette and she spread her hands. "I'm just here as an observer at this point. Oh, and if she says the word 'weasel', you are to stop whatever you are doing and hold her. I will be there as well. That is her safe word, it means things have gotten too overwhelming for her. Now have fun, ask any questions you have, but don't let me get in the way of your fun." She leaned back and daintily sipped her wine. I watched her lick her lips and then nearly forgot she existed when I heard my zipper go down. The slave was working my zipper down with her teeth, but when I looked down she stopped and looked at me. There was such a look of open trust in her eyes I almost had her sit up so that I could just hold her. Instead I went back to stroking her hair and reassured her. "That is great, keep going." I watched her struggle to get my zipper down further and realized she would be unable to get it the rest of the way down without breaking a tooth. "You can use your hands, um, slave." "Thank you Master." It was the first time she had spoken and I realized she had a beautiful voice. It was soft and throaty and in it I could hear her arousal. It was also the first time I had ever been called master, and I was amazed by the intensity of my reaction to the simple appellation. I swelled in my pants, and told her "Quickly!" She immediately reached up and pulled my zipper down the rest of the way. Her breath was like fire and I saw her eyes light up when she realized I hadn't worn underwear under the skin-tight jeans. I tried to remain calm and in control, but the moment her tongue flicked out and lightly traveled over the tip of my erection, I gasped. I looked up again, just for a second reminded of Nicolette's presence. She was calmly watching from her seat, and she didn't even blink when I glanced her way. I looked back down at the slave and wondered briefly about her name. Then she puffed another breath of hot air over my crotch and I gave up any semblance of intelligence. "Suck it slave, suck me now!" This time she didn't pause to thank me but leapt to her task with a bestial hunger. She rolled to her stomach and raised up on her arms just high enough to get her lips around me, the heat from her mouth nearly made this an incredibly short, albeit very exciting, night. She lowered her head and I watched with amazement as her lips traveled the length of my shaft, stopping only when I was buried in her throat. "Wow." I barely remembered to breathe as she raised her throat and swirled her tongue around the rim of my head before down she went again. I looked down the line of her body and realized that while the outfit looked painted on from the front, most of her back was bare, and it was open from just below the collar on her neck to just above the cleavage of her buttocks. I reached out and stroked the length of her back. She shuddered and her mouth began to work feverishly on my cock. I could feel her swallowing around me and I could tell I only had seconds if it went on much longer. "Sit up and kiss me." I commanded. She complied immediately, and I slid my arms around her as I probed her lips with my tongue. I felt the muscles in her back writhe under my hands as I ran my fingers from her shoulder blades to the barely exposed rise of her buttocks. I wrapped my hands around her waist and slid them up the front of her body, just catching her breasts with my thumbs. She sighed into my mouth and I knew I had to have her right then. I forgot Nicolette, I forgot I was in a back room in some club. I forgot everything but the pulsing, sexually charged woman I held in my arms. Two seconds later I remembered she would do whatever I commanded. "Strip, do it quickly, but make it good." The slave nuzzled her mouth up right under my ear and moaned. "Yes Master." She stood in front of me and brushed her hair over her left shoulder. She reached behind her neck and did something I couldn't see and the front of her outfit peeled away. I realized two things simultaneously, the first was that the collar was separate, and would stay there, beautifully enclosing her neck. The second thing was that her top was not leather, but had literally been painted on. It was latex, and until she dressed, or was dressed for the evening, it had been liquid latex. She slowly peeled it away from her skin and I watched breathlessly as she was exposed. The nipples were dark pebbles against her pale skin, and her breasts rose and fell quickly with her breath. The latex peeled away slowly and exposed her ribs, her stomach, and finally, just when I began to wonder if I had been mistaken about her pants as well, the low ridge of her leather pants. She looked to me for direction as she stood there with her top still whole, but now a triangular sheet of latex that bore the perfect shape of her torso. "Set it on the couch behind you and come here for a moment." I had to feel her against me. It was slightly chill in the room and I was suddenly taken with the urge to feel the heat of her libido on her skin before her skin was cooled by the air. She settled into my lap, head on my shoulder and I pulled her to me. I yanked open the shirt I was wearing, damned be the buttons and wrapped my arms around her. I could feel her nipples poking my chest and the heat coming from her was like a wave from an ocean of sex. We kissed again and this time when we parted her eyes were glazed with need. Her lips were swollen like ripe fruit, and I could see the flush of her arousal spread across her chest and the tops of her breasts. I twined my hands in her hair and bent her backwards so I could kiss my way down her throat and across her breasts. I heard a guttural moan but I couldn't tell if it came from her throat or mine. With a growl I picked her up, turned and lay her across the couch. Her pants gave me a second's pause, but only a second. When I had them tossed behind me I stopped to look at my prize. She was beautiful, living art draped over the couch and clothed only in the smallest piece of lace I had ever seen. I grabbed one side and yanked, it was gratifying to feel it tear under my hand and then she was naked. I spared another second to pull off my pants and then I froze. Shit, a dozen curses paraded through my mind when I realized I had neglected to bring anything even remotely resembling a condom with me when I left to meet Bettie what seemed like years ago. A slight cough behind me caught my attention and I looked over my shoulder to see Nicolette barely restraining a laugh and holding a foil package out to me. I took the condom, opened it and then in a moment of luxury handed the little rubber bowler cap to the slave. "Put it on me." I had already forgotten Nicolette again and I had eyes only for the vision of debauchery that sat up, took the condom from my hand and began to slowly smooth it down my rigid length. As was my habit, the touch of the rubber caused me to soften a bit, but the slave took the initiative and moved closer to me, she blew her hot breath over me again, and I felt it even through the latex. Then she wrapped her lips around the head and began to slide the condom on with her lips. Stunned as I was by this, another first in my experience, my cock wasted no time in responding, and in a second I was neither soft, nor unprotected. Once the condom was on, she began to suck me in earnest, but as marvelous as the experience was, I wanted more. I pressed on her shoulders and told her to lay back. With a final delicious suction, she released my dick and leaned back against the arm of the couch. I wasted not a moment with looking this time. I was on her like a wild thing. Such was the state of her arousal that I slid between her nether lips without hesitation, although the motion shocked a moan from her lips that set my heart pounding. I slid slowly in until I was buried to the hilt, and she began almost immediately to rock her hips against me. I pulled out just a touch and hovered above her, connected just at the groin while she strained to push herself high enough to press her mound against me. "That is perfect slave, I want to feel you come, often if possible. Show me how hot you are and I will be the happiest Master you have ever had." I lunged forward and began to thrust deeply. She ground her hips into mine and almost immediately her breath went from low moans to quick gasps. She arched her back and pressed herself into me so tightly that I was barely able to move. I was buried so deeply I could feel her back wall stretched tight around my head and each thrust must have been leaving deep bruises, but she gasped encouragement and continued to gyrate her hips against me. Her hands fluttered at my back as though she were unsure what to do with them, and in a flash of insight I realized she would usually be bound, or have been given instruction as to where to put them. I slid my hand around her side and caught up her right wrist. When I pulled it above her head her left hand followed as though already bound. I pulled both wrists tight above her head and she exploded around me. Her hands grasped at air and she screamed as she came. I could feel her inner muscles pulsing around me and in spite of all my earlier hopes it was too much for me. I smashed her lips with my own and moaned into her mouth as I came, she never stopped shuddering under me as I convulsively thrust into her. Slowly, the pulses of pleasure began to ebb and as I settled my weight over her to catch my breath, I heard her whisper in my ear "Thank you Master." In one quick motion I released her arms and hugged her to me, reveling in the feel of her skin, still hot against my own. "Believe me slave, it was my pleasure." I whispered in her ear. We lay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the afterglow. As I came back to myself I suddenly remembered that we had had an audience and I peeked through the slave's hair at Nicolette. She was smoking a cigarette and watching us with a curious expression. I smoothed the slave's hair back and gently disengaged from her. I placed my shirt underneath us and pulled her into my lap where she contentedly snuggled into my chest. Her breathing evened out and I was sure she had dozed off tucked into my lap. I spoke softly so as not to disturb the slave as I addressed Nicolette. "You have a question?" Nicolette kept her voice low as well. "Not a question per se, I am just surprised. I had taken you for a novice, and while perhaps a bit unpracticed, you were admirable. I was sure I would at least have to stop you and remind you to use a condom, or intercede when you left her with too much indecision, but you surprised me. Congratulations. Well done Xeno." "Thank you. That was incredible. I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist, but I was a little afraid I wouldn't be able to, er, perform under the circumstances, but she is just so sexy. By the way, what is her name? I feel a little weird just calling her 'her', or 'slave'." Nicolette shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you will not be told her name tonight. Names are a powerful thing, and hers is something you can only find out from her. And it has to be given freely. It is not only rude, but grounds for dismissal from the club to command a slave to reveal his or her name. And to get technical, it will make it much easier for you to enjoy the experience of this evening without emotional attachment if you do not know her name. Remember that when you wake up next to her in the morning and feel tender and date like towards her. You do not know her name, you have no idea what she likes or dislikes. You have no clue what her favorite anything is. You shared something that, from my point of view anyway, looked like enormous fun, and you like the way she looks in and out of clothing. That's all. She won't expect you to call, nor will she feel bound to call you." She laughed at my expression. "It's not as cold, nor as callous as it sounds, and I don't under any circumstances want you to think of her as some kind of whore. She volunteered to be your first submissive because she liked the way you looked while you were being paraded around the club. I'm sure you've had a one night stand before, this is the same thing, except in this case, we," She gestured to encompass the entire club. "All of us can come together and share the emotional intensity that comes from a relationship without it being a given that we will soon be picking out wallpaper together. We can have sex, we can make love, we can differentiate, but just like sex, unless both parties agree, and want it, it doesn't have to lead to anything more than a lasting and intimate friendship; and even that is only if you get along outside the bedroom, or wherever you find convenient." She smiled. "I think I understand." I leaned gingerly over the slave and reached for my discarded pants so I could get at my cigarettes. They were just out of reach, but Nicolette kicked them closer when she saw my predicament. "This is going to take a lot of getting used to. Last night I was drugged and still don't know anything about how I got home except I somehow assume it was Bettie. Today I was blindfolded to get here, introduced to the a massive number of people wearing less clothing between them than I've seen on one well dressed couple outside. Then...well, this." I turned my head just slightly and looked down the line of my body where the slave was pressed close, her hands were tucked in close to her chin and one breast glowed pale in the dim club lighting. I ran a finger across the underside of her breast and she nuzzled her face deeper into my shoulder. I wrapped my other arm around her a bit tighter and let her sleep. "If you are going to live among this crowd, at the very least you need to be able to say you got laid out loud. Especially in front of someone who watched the whole thing." Nicolette laughed and stood up to tuck my torn shirt around the slave's shoulders. Her touch was tender and there was something I suddenly found I could identify in her lingering gaze. There was pride and protectiveness, and above all else, love. "You love her, are in love with her." I heard the confusion in my voice and did nothing to hide it from her. I needed to know with what I was involved. "Yes I am, you needn't worry, I'm not going to fly into a jealous rage. More than that, I'm grateful to you for giving her something I cannot. We, she and I, are a couple, but I haven't had anything to do with men in years and I can't stand the idea of a threesome with a man as our third. Nothing personal." She grinned at me. "But just because we are a couple and I expect to grow old with her, doesn't mean I expect to be able to satisfy her every urge. She likes men, and no amount of artificial apparatus can imitate the smell and feel of a male body. And more than that, I know she's going to see others, both male and female that will strike her fancy. Sometimes she'll want to play with them; sometimes she'll just want to look. Either way, as long as we talk about it first and we're both ok with it, I know whose bed she calls home. The same goes for me, although I admit an occasional qualm on my end. All I have to do is demand it of her and she wants it because I want it, so I worry that she may one day wake up and decide she doesn't like sharing. But it hasn't happened yet and believe me when I say we talk about it after every instance, so I'm pretty certain she is happy with things the way they are." She stood and pulled one of the cushions from the couch. Instead of lifting off though, it folded back and underneath I could only see shadows. She reached into the blackness and pulled out two folded blankets, which she set on the arm of the couch, then she reached back into the hole and pulled out a few pillows, two of which she set on the couch next to me. "Now, I can see you have a lot more questions, but for the moment, you look half asleep and despite the show you two put on, I can tell sunrise is not too far off. Why don't we follow her example and get some sleep while we can. The butler who is not a slave, and whose name, by them way, is Robertson, will be in around noon with coffee and breakfast. You can ask your questions once you've had some sleep and a chance to absorb some of this." With that she handed over one of the blankets, and opened the other across her now reassembled couch. She kicked off her shoes and then unabashedly stripped out of her scant attire before lying down and wrapping herself in the blanket. "Sleep tight." She murmured and then rolled onto her side leaving me to arrange the blanket and pillows around myself and the slave without waking her. Despite the myriad questions spinning in my mind, and the ball of excitement that burned like coal in my stomach, once I had spooned my body around the slave in a protective curl, it was only moments before I succumbed to the siren call of slumber. Part I::Part II::Part III::Part IV This article comes from Shmeng http://www.shmeng.com/ The URL for this story is: http://www.shmeng.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=429