Angelica's Party Night

Angelica's Party Night

Author's Note:

For some reason, Angelica seems to have become a popular character in my fiction. Every once in a while, in a comment on something else, I get a query as to what Angelica is up to these days. So, by popular demand - or maybe the same person's demand several times, it's hard to tell - here is another story featuring Angelica Henders.

Like most of my stories, this one is mostly self-contained, and you don't need much background except for the fact that Angelica is the most intense bondage and pain slut I've ever written. But if you want to go back and check out her other appearances, we first meet her in "Signing Up for a Life of Slavery," then again in "Monster Cock," and most recently (aside from some oblique mentions) in "Angelica Enslaved."

Now let's see more of what she and Jonathan are doing with each other these days.

I opened my eyes blearily as I became aware of something cold running down my asscrack, followed by something warm and firm nudging at my asshole. I tried to say, "Fuck off, Jonathan, I'm sleeping," but my lips wouldn't open. Duct tape again, I figured.

Experimentally, I tried to turn over from my face-down position and discovered that my wrists and ankles were in leather cuffs joined by chains to the four corners of the bed. Bastard! All the things Jonathan does to me take a lot out of me and make for a very solid night's sleep. If I didn't sleep so soundly these days, he wouldn't be able to get away with these dirty tricks.

Still, even though I was pissed at being woken up from a lovely sleep, I had to admit that waking up chained to the bed gave me a strange thrill. I love bondage, the heavier the better, and I love being fucked when helpless to resist. My pussy moistened as soon as I realized what was going on, and even though they were pressed against the mattress, my nipples instantly hardened.

I squirmed in my bondage, relishing the tightness of the cuffs and the way they held me so firmly in my spread-eagle pose with my legs wide apart and all my intimate bits on display. I made a feeble "Mmmppphhh" behind the tape gag, but it was more a sound of pleasure than of disapproval.

I felt Jonathan's hand slip down between my asscheeks and follow my crack all the way around until it encountered my gushing pussy. His middle two fingers went into my vagina and his index finger slid up to start gently massaging my clit. I tugged harder on my restraints as little bolts of pleasure began radiating through my body.

I assumed that the thing that had wakened me up by poking at my asshole was Jonathan's cock. It was gone for now - it would have been quite the gymnastic feat to keep nudging me in the ass with it while fingering my cunt. But I knew Jonathan well enough to be assured that his cock would be back there in a little while. My ass is his favourite place to fuck me, and I love being fucked there too. He loves the supreme tightness of my back-channel, and I love the way the filled and stretched feeling blends with the sensations from the other parts of my body to make a wonderful concoction of stimulation.

Jonathan kept massaging my clit and cunt with one hand while sliding his other hand over my bumcheeks to find my little brown starfish. I felt pressure again as he sought entrance, and felt the familiar burning ring of pain as my sphincter was forced open by two lubed fingers, then three. I held my breath and waited for the pain to subside and start turning to pleasure, which it did in a few seconds as my well-practiced asshole adjusted to the new intruders.

Jonathan began thrusting both sets of fingers in and out, first slowly and then faster. As waves of pleasure swept up through me, radiating from both holes, I started making rhythmic "mmh-mmh-mmh" noises behind the tape gag, in time with his thrusts.

Jonathen must have taken my response as an indication that I was getting well and truly warmed up. He pulled both sets of fingers out and I felt him rearranging his position on the bed. Sure enough, the next thing I felt was firm, fat cock-head opening me up again. It slipped easily past the sphincter that he had pre-stretched with his fingers, and I made a long "Mmmmm" of contentment as he slowly hilted it all the way up into my rectum. As he started to swivel on his knees to thrust with his whole body, I could hear the regular slapping noise of his groin connecting with my lube-smeared bumcheeks with each stroke.

By now I was panting deeply through my nose as the sensations spread and deepened. Jonathan forced one hand between my ribcage and the mattress to find a flattened breast and then my hard, deeply needy nipple. He held it firmly between finger and thumb as my stifled grunts of growing orgasm grew and grew. Then, just as he figured I was teetering on the edge, he pinched, really hard.

The sudden pain rocketed straight to my clit and joined the sensations from my ass in a gigantic, explosive orgasm. I tilted my head back and screamed through my nose as the sensations shuddered through me, then faded into a series of glorious aftershocks as I slowly came down.

I became aware of how hard I was clenching my asshole around Jonathan's cock, but he didn't seem to be complaining. He just waited until the aftershocks stopped flowing through me and I dropped my head, exhausted, to the mattress. Then he gave three or four more hard, deep thrusts and flooded my rectum with warm cum.

He kept me plugged with his softening cock for a minute or two while I savoured the feel of the warm fluid bathing the walls of my anal passage. Then he slipped his cock out and pressed a cloth to my leaking hole to catch what he had deposited there. We have a waterproof mattress protector under the bottom sheet of our bed, but still, it's nice not to have to change sheets if we don't have to.

Once he'd taken a few minutes to recover, Jonathan started crawling around the bed to unbuckle my wrists and ankles. I turned over carefully, trying to keep all the various juices from spilling out around the washcloth, and peeled the tape off my mouth. Then I punched him in the shoulder and said, "Jonathan, you asshole! What a way to wake a girl up!"

Jonathan obviously knew I was just being playful. There's nothing I would rather do than fuck in bondage, even at 8:00 in the morning, and he knew it. He just lay beside me, idly fingering my clit and cupping my mound in his lube-covered hand. Finally, he spoke.

"I just thought we should wake up and pull ourselves together. Tonight's party night, remember? We have a few things to do to get ready for it."

Fuck, the party. I had momentarily forgotten about it in the pink haze of afterglow, but it came rushing back. Jonathan was right; if we were going to have three other couples over for a BDSM party, we would need to get the place in shape, especially the dungeon. I love throwing BDSM parties, but there is always that one down side: if you're going to have company on Saturday night, you have to clean up after what you did Friday.

First things first. We both climbed into the shower and washed the lube, sweat and sex goo off each other. I'd had enough real excitement for the next short while, but Jonathan's soapy fingers cleaning the goo out from between my pussy lips still felt good, and his strong hands making sure my breasts were really, really, really clean felt even better. I made sure that his cock and his balls were all in good order, and then we climbed out and toweled off. Then we put on our housework clothes, got ourselves on the outside of a light breakfast and lots of coffee, and got to work.

Aside from a quick wipedown of the counters and a pickup of a few dishes, the main level of the house was in good shape. When I had first moved in with Jonathan, I had been impressed with what good housekeeping habits he had compared to most of the single guys I'd been with, and having a partner hadn't changed him in that respect. The house was always pretty well looked after.

There was more work to be done downstairs in the dungeon. We always try to leave it in reasonable shape after we've used it, but I'm usually deep in subspace by then, and Jonathan is physically worn out, so we head for bed with only a superficial wipeup. For company, we felt it was time to give it a deep clean.

I took on job of cleaning the straps and cuffs on the equipment, wiping everything with Lysol and looking carefully for dried semen, saliva or blood - what we like to do isn't supposed to draw blood, but things occasionally happen. Jonathan worked on the toys, making sure that all the cuffs, dildoes, gags, plugs and vibrators were wiped down with toy cleaner and ready for use. He gave special attention to the whips, paddles and canes, which are particularly prone to be contaminated with blood if not used with care. (Not that Jonathan isn't exquisitely careful, but some of our visitors might not have been, and anyway, it always pays to be safe.) Finally I mopped the floor to make sure that there were no puddles of body fluids anywhere.

The last thing Jonathan did was inspect the Sorting Wheel, which was folded up neatly against the wall. This was his pride and joy, a hand-built custom party toy of his own design. He added a touch of light oil to the bearing races and gave it a quick spin in both directions to make sure the mechanism was running smoothly and easily. (I'm glad I talked him out of yelling "I want to buy a vowel!" every time he spun the wheel. It was funny exactly once.)

When we were satisfied that Jonathan's impressive collection of dungeon equipment was clean and ready for action, we went upstairs, took a break for lunch, and then got busy preparing appetizers for the party. Since it's never a good idea to deepthroat cock or be suspended upside-down on a full stomach, we intended to serve dinner at midnight or later, and Jonathan had prepared a hearty lasagna for that purpose. But we wanted our guests to be able to graze on some light appies beforehand, or during the event if anyone got hungry.

When we had the appies all lined up on the dining-room table and several bottles of wine standing ready, we poured ourselves a glass of wine each and helped ourselves to a few appetizers that hadn't quite fit on the plates. Then, suitably rewarded for our labours, we went upstairs to change into something more appropriate.

We knew that clothes, especially the women's clothes, were unlikely to stay on for very much of the evening, but it was fun to start out wearing something suitably outrageous. I went with a snug leather catsuit that had zipper panels over the breasts and crotch in case anyone wanted to get into it without actually taking it off. To set the mood, it had a little cutout that exposed my left nipple, and I clipped a silver nipple-bell to it that tinkled every time I moved.

Jonathan wore a black Dom outfit with lots of meaningless zippers and studs all over it. He was bare-chested with a pair of black leather straps crossed over his chest. The pants had a nice big man-bulge, almost a codpiece, to hold his junk. A sturdy-looking riding crop hung from a loop on one side of his belt, and a pair of handcuffs was clipped to the other. We both certainly looked the part of dungeon host and hostess.

After I had finished applying the excessive makeup that went with the part, we went back down to the living room, poured ourselves another glass of wine, and waited for people to start arriving.

The first to arrive were Trish and Arjun. Trish, a tall blonde, took off her coat and let us admire her skimpy Taylor Swift-style single-piece costume with bare legs nearly up to her hips and a silky cape flowing from her shoulders. Arjun had gone faux-formal with an old-fashioned tuxedo-style suit and a top hat perched on top of his mass of long black hair. He carried a fashion cane that I had no doubt could cause considerable pain if applied to bare flesh. He couldn't resist tapping my nipple bell with it and making it tinkle merrily.

Trish and Arjun made themselves comfortable on the couch with glasses of wine. Soon they stood up again to greet the next guests: Madison and Walter. Madison, a small Black woman with long tight braids, wore fishnet stockings and an ultra-short mini-dress with a plunging V-neck that exposed a vast acreage of sideboob. She had the perfect figure for it: medium-sized perky breasts that didn't need any extra help to keep from sagging or bouncing. Her husband had on his signature black catsuit covered with studs and with an exaggerated zipper over the crotch that dared you to reach over and pull it down.

Last in the door were Sonia and Dave. Dave wore a military-style uniform with a Sam Browne belt and a captain's cap - not quite a Nazi uniform but with some hints in that direction. Sonia had bare legs visible under her long coat, and was wearing a strict-looking leather collar with short metal spikes all the way around. When Dave took off her coat, she was totally naked underneath, her wrists cuffed behind her back and her elbows strapped, not tight together, but pulled back enough to thrust her truly impressive, shapely breasts forward.

Walter is a confirmed tit-fancier, and as usual, his eyes were immediately drawn to Sonia's DD breasts from the minute her coat came off. She didn't seem to care. In fact, she gave her shoulders a little rock to make her breasts bounce alluringly. Dave clipped a leash to the collar and gave it a hard yank to discourage her from flirting with another man. "You'll pay for that later," he hissed quietly in Sonia's ear.

All of us are heavily into BDSM and pain play, but only Sonia and Dave make master-slave roleplay a permanent part of their lifestyle. Sonia is less into pain play than the rest of the subs in the group, preferring to get her kinks from debasement and humiliation - although some pain comes into the relationship whenever Dave thinks she's been disobedient.

I like the non-consensual aspect of slavery - otherwise I'd never have signed on as one of Theo's sex slaves for all those years - but total humiliation, with all the "Yes, Master" stuff, crawling around like a dog, sleeping in a cage, and everything else that goes with that particular brand of kink, just doesn't work well for me. I'd asked her about it one day over lunch, on one of the rare occasions when she'd been allowed to visit me on her own.

"Sonia, exactly why do you find it satisfying to be so totally subservient to Dave all the time?"

"I really find it hard to explain, Angie. It's comfortable, almost liberating in a weird way. I don't have to make any decisions. All I have to do is make sure Dave is happy. I don't want to go out, find a job, worry about being "self-actualized" and all that bullshit. Dave looks after me well, even if I do get punished now and then if I do something wrong. I forgot he doesn't like Brussels sprouts and served them at dinner one day, and found myself spanked black and blue and then locked in chastity for a week. But I didn't mind - I deserved it."

I shuddered slightly. I'm a submissive to my core, but not that kind of submissive. "So, if you don't work, what do you do all day?"

"Well, I wake up at about 7:30 and give Dave his morning blow job. Then while he's showering, shaving, and dressing for work, I bring him coffee and then go downstairs to make him a nice breakfast. I kneel at his feet while he eats, then help him on with his coat as he heads out the door. I finish his leftovers for my breakfast and head upstairs for my own shower. There's usually some dried cum on my face that I need to get off - I'm not allowed to clean it up until he's gone.

"Then I put some clothes on and do some tradwife things. Tidy the house, wash the floor, fold the laundry, go grocery shopping, that sort of thing. If I get all my chores done, I'm allowed to watch some daytime TV, but only soap operas and game shows. Then I start supper to make sure Dave can smell something good cooking when he comes in the door.

"About the time he's scheduled to arrive, I take off my clothes again and get in my "ready" position, kneeling by the door with my knees well apart and my hands palm up on my thighs. When he comes in, I stand, greet him with "Welcome home, Master," and take his coat. He makes himself comfy in his favourite chair and I get him a drink. Then I check to see if it's been a stressful day and he needs another blow job to help him unwind. I serve dinner, clear the table and have leftovers again. Then I kneel at his feet for the rest of the evening and we watch whatever he wants to watch on TV.

"Sometimes he ties me up and fucks me before bed, sometimes he doesn't. Then he gets into bed and I crawl into my kennel for the night. It's totally predictable, totally safe, and I love it."

I shuddered again. Considering the things I do for pleasure, I can't possibly pass judgement, but I have trouble understanding the lifestyle. Still, when you consider the totally capricious violence that some abusive partners display, there's something to be said for predictable rules and safety.

So there was Sonia, come to the party buck naked as usual. Dave tugged on her leash and they went over to the snack table. Dave picked out a couple of snacks and put them on a plate on the floor. Her hands still cuffed, Sonia got down on her knees and ate them doggy-style, her breasts dangling.

Since she isn't usually allowed to speak, Sonia isn't always much fun at parties, but after half an hour or so of silence, she's allowed to ask, "Please, Master, may I have some party privileges?" If Dave's feeling charitable - Sonia is very good at making him feel charitable - he'll say, "Yes, go ahead and join the party," and then she's allowed to chat away like the rest of us.

After an hour or so of catching up with each other, Jonathan suggested that it was time to go downstairs. Everyone finished their glass of wine and filed down to the dungeon.

Everyone had been down there before, some of them frequently, but they were always impressed by the amount of equipment Jonathan had stocked it with. No-one else's sex room is half as well equipped, which was why the group had voted to have most of our parties here. Jonathan proudly showed off his latest purchase, a big suspension frame in gleaming stainless steel. He demonstrated how the cuffs were motorized so it was easy to lift even the heaviest person, or lift yourself if you were into self-bondage. "I dibs that one," said Trish quickly, before anyone else claimed it.

"We'll see what whoever wins you has to say about that," said Jonathan, "But he'll have first pick of that beauty."

It was time for the Sorting Wheel, which Jonathan had taken down from its storage position against the wall and set up in the middle of the room. It looked like a giant roulette wheel, except that instead of numbered spaces for a little white ball, it had padded cuffs for the wrists and ankles of up to four people kneeling with their heads toward the centre and their asses in the air facing out.

The women all shucked off their costumes and hung them on a rack provided for the purpose - all except Sonia, that is, since she was already naked. Dave took off her handcuffs and elbow strap so she could assume her new position. I took off my nipple bell so I could get out of the catsuit, but I put it back on as soon as I was suitably undressed.

The women knelt in their positions on the wheel and their respective partners buckled them snugly in place. All the couples we had invited were like us, with a dominant man and a submissive woman. We know couples with other configurations: same-sex couples, dominant women and submissive men, and other shades of BDSM preferences, but for the switching-around we had planned to work out properly, we needed everyone to have parallel interests.