Molly and the New Editor

Molly was taking a break from writing when her cell phone rang.

Looking at the caller ID, she felt her heart accelerate. It was her editor, Gwen, calling. Not only her editor though – Gwen had also become a sort of Dominatrix to Molly, in an effort to give her some real life experience, thereby enhancing the veracity and accuracy of her stories. Molly had no idea which of Gwen's personas was calling at the moment.

"Hello, Gwen," Molly said, after answering.

"You mean hello, Miss, don't you, you silly slut? Get on your knees while speaking with me," Gwen growled, her voice displaying her banked anger.

Reflexively, Molly tumbled off her chair, knees thumping on the floor. "Yes, Miss. Sorry Miss. I'm on my knees now, Miss," Molly blurted out, her face heating up.

"Good. It's best if you remember your manners," Gwen stated, sounding more pleased. "I know you wish to have new experiences, so you can draw upon them for components of your stories. A new opportunity has presented itself." She paused, perhaps to see how Molly would comment.

For her part, Molly's heart began thumping so hard in her chest that she saw it making her tit bounce. She was, as was now her custom, naked as she wrote, so her tit was fully visible to her eyes. If she was being completely honest with herself, she'd acknowledge that submitting to Miss Gwen's whims was becoming even more important than the actual writing. But she dare not admit that – Miss Gwen needed her more as an author than as a submissive slut, or so she thought.

"May I ask what it is, Miss?" Molly asked, her voice full of shyness at being so bold.

"You may not," Miss Gwen answered patiently. "By now, I feel we know each other well enough that you can trust it will not violate your limits. Correct?"

"Yes, Miss. As long as you are with me, I know you'll keep me safe," Molly answered politely.

"Very well. Then I want you ready on this Saturday. I'll pick you up. Make certain that your hygiene is complete," Miss Gwen said. She told Molly what to wear, and when to expect her.

Molly knew that the phrase 'hygiene is complete' meant she should be thoroughly washed, and have a clean pussy and ass hole. This raised the possibility of anal sex, which was both exciting and scary. "If it's going to be a huge cock, like Eric's, I sure hope the guy has as much finesse as Eric has, when doing it." She shuddered, not without smidgens of delight as she remembered Eric fucking her back door.

As the days passed, Molly couldn't help but speculate what plans Miss Gwen might have for her. Would she make Molly star in a porno? Molly imagined the cameras recording her body from every angle, as one man after another railed her holes. Or would Miss Gwen make her prostitute her body? She imagined her clients fucking her to get their rocks off, uncaring if Molly herself was getting any pleasure from it. Then dropping money on the twisted sheets of the bed as they stalked out of the room, without looking back.

Perhaps she'd be a model for a workshop on shibari. Naked, her body would be crisscrossed with elaborate designs of ropes as an audience watched. Sometimes the tied person was then suspended, dangling and helpless. No matter what, she'd have her tits and cunt exposed and vulnerable, and the bindings would prevent her from evading anything that the onlookers might be permitted to do. These feverish thoughts were so exciting, so compelling, that Molly had to change her panties several times a day. If she failed to wear panties, she'd leave drips and puddles everywhere she went.

After an agonizing week, the day finally arrived. Molly scrubbed herself thoroughly, douched, and flushed her colon with a special shower wand attachment until her back passage was as squeaky clean as her front one. She wouldn't embarrass Miss Gwen by any lack of hygiene, that's for sure.

In the late afternoon, she was bouncing up and down on her heels with excitement, watching for Miss Gwen's town car to arrive. As directed, she was wearing a simple black dress with a short skirt, and slippers – no bra, no stockings, no panties. When the car arrived, instead of rushing across the sidewalk to it, like some eager school girl, Molly strolled. Unfortunately, a gust of wind suddenly lifted her skirt, raising its hem, front and back, almost level with her tits. Passersby got a very good look at either her pussy, or her ass, depending upon their angle of approach.

Molly hastily shoved her hem down, but not before a burst of whistles and catcalls assaulted her ears. She was blushing a deep red as she climbed into the rear of the car, alongside Miss Gwen.

"Giving everyone a show?" Miss Gwen asked, with an arched eyebrow, but there was a smile playing across her lips.

"Inadvertently, Miss," Molly whispered, head down and a bit mortified, as the car smoothly accelerated.

"There are a few places where you can give a public show outdoors like that and not risk getting arrested," Miss Gwen commented. "I'll file that thought away for some future time. Such exposure makes you look quite fetching, you know."

Molly swallowed, and whispered, "Thank you, Miss." Her mind was whirling, still wondering what was in store for her this evening. Since Miss Gwen made no remark about her clothing, Molly took it for granted that she approved. After all, Miss Gwen could see the dress and the slippers, and knew full well Molly lacked any panties. In addition, Molly's perky nipples were pressing the dress material into well defined bumps, giving evidence of the lack of a bra.

After a lengthy drive, they arrived at a large, mansion-like home, situated on well landscaped grounds. Whoever owned it exhibited both wealth and taste, by the manner it was being maintained. The town car pulled around to the back of the dwelling, and Miss Gwen escorted Molly through one of its rear doors.

They entered a kitchen. Cooks and assistants were working efficiently, with skill and precision. Surfaces and utensils gleamed. A man approached them, possibly a waiter, and smiled and beckoned. They must've been expected, because neither Miss Gwen or the waiter said anything as he led the way through the kitchen and into a large dining room. The large double doors that provided the other entrance to the room were closed. Beyond them, Molly fancied she was possibly hearing the muted murmur of people's voices in conversation. Soothing paintings hung in their frames along the walls. Overhead, crystal chandeliers sparkled. The pure white tablecloth reflected their brilliance. Strangely, the chairs were well off to the sides, not pulled up against the edges of the dining table.

"Remove your clothing, girl," Miss Gwen ordered in a quiet voice.

Molly was aware that the waiter was still standing in the room with them. She felt a little bashful as she slipped the dress up and over her head and off. In a moment, she stood naked, in her slippers. The waiter's lips curled into a broad smile, and his eyes twinkled as he studied her form. "Slippers, too, Miss?" Molly asked.

"I'm sure this floor is immaculately clean," Miss Gwen responded. "But let Andre give you a boost up onto the table, first."

Andre stepped up, and without so much as a 'by-your-leave' his hands came to Molly's waist, grasping and lifting. A second later, her butt was on the white tablecloth, and Andre reached down and gently removed her slippers.

"You want me up here on the table, Miss?" Molly asked quizzically.

"Yes, my dear slut girl. You're going to be the table centerpiece for this party. Get to the center, and stretch out on your back. Andre, a small pillow, I think," Miss Gwen instructed.

Weird sensations and thoughts romped through Molly's mind as she carefully scooted to the center of the table, and lowered herself onto her back. The wooden surface under the tablecloth was hard against the back of her head, but Andre quickly slipped a soft pillow into place. Molly stared up at the ceiling, which seemed to be covered in a delicate parquet of interlacing wooden shapes in muted browns and golds. It was a very restful view, and the chandeliers were not directly overhead, so Molly wasn't staring into a glare of light. Still, she was naked, in a dining room. The thought of people sitting nearby, eating, while her face, tits, belly, pussy, and legs were on display like this made her feel like her innards were twisted into knots, which was just as well, because otherwise the butterflies flapping around in there might escape into the room.

In a heightened state of anxiety now, Molly almost jumped when the door to the kitchen flew open and several people entered, carrying trays. To her amazement, no one commented on seeing a naked woman atop the table. They all fell to work. Taking fruit off the trays, they began decorating Molly's body with them. Molly could not help but wonder if the servers were shocked or uncomfortable doing this. But their faces displayed nothing but concentration. Apparently, this was not the first time they'd performed these actions.

"Stay very still, girl," Miss Gwen whispered. "We don't want the fruit arrangement falling off. Take shallow breaths, too."

Looking down her body, since the pillow under her head gave her a vantage point, Molly saw the servers carefully placing small clusters of grapes, various types of berries, cherries, artfully formed apple slices, and slices of ripe pear. None of it was messy, and all of it was cold as it was placed on her skin. But her body warmth soon heated the pieces of fruit, until she was barely aware of them, other then a slight pressure. As her body heated the fruit, their various aromas wafted into her nostrils, even with the careful shallow breaths she was employing.

The main scents were from the berries. The smell of ripe strawberries, blackberries, and raspberries predominated. There was an undertone scent of ripe apple and pear. That was before two pineapple rings were carefully placed, one at the top of each of her tits. The pineapple smell took command, claiming her attention. As Molly peered down at the rings, she could see the tips of her engorged nipples, peeking up out of the center of each ring.

Miss Gwen's face came into her peripheral vision. "Hold quite still, girl," she advised Molly. "I'm about to part your labia."

Molly was glad she'd been warned. Otherwise, she might've twitched when she felt those unseen hands opening her intimate folds. Glancing down, she saw a female server delicately placing a series of stemmed cherries along her now open furrow. One cherry was even inserted into Molly's vaginal opening. She gasped quietly as she felt the coolness of its penetration. Servers placed the remaining fruits on the table surface all around her body, in an artful arrangment.

Miss Gwen stepped back for a final appraisal. "Perfect," she stated. All the servers but two went back into the kitchen. "You may let the guests enter," she instructed those remaining servers. The two men opened the double doors. Nothing was placed on Molly's head or neck, so she was able to pivot her head a few degrees toward the door, and stare out of the corner of her eyes as it was opened.

The chatting people who entered were 'dressed to the nines' as they say. The men were wearing their formal black tuxedos, white shirts, and black ties. The only splash of color came from the occasional cummerbund that obviously coordinated with the color of the outfit worn by the woman on his arm. Molly's jaw dropped slightly as she regarded what must be the floor length gowns the women were wearing. Colorful as beams snatched from a rainbow, the women's gowns were accentuated by the jewels they wore. Bare shoulders or spaghetti straps revealed flawless skin. Subtle, expensive perfumes drifted from the ladies as everyone gathered around the table, chatting.

Molly suddenly became aware that in stark contrast to those elegant women, she herself was on naked display before them. No one made overt reference to her presence at first. In fact, they helped themselves to the fruit on her body in a desultory fashion, plucking up bits daintily in their fingers as they chatted. All the fruits were finger food, and fine linens and small plates were located here and there, for the discrete wiping of fingers, and the disposal of pits and stems.

Molly was busy observing her reactions to being the centerpiece, and the emotions that warred within her. When she'd been naked, among a group of naked people, it was possible for her to feel a measure of comfort, since she could imagine she wasn't being singled out. But now she was the only naked person in the room, and her placement, plus the exquisite manner of dress of the people around her, heightened the contrast between them. On the other hand, Molly had to admit being aroused by the chance that people were gazing at her nudity with appraisal, and hopefully approval.

Little by little, more and more of Molly's anatomy was revealed as the fruits were consumed. The guests chattered about this and that, in a quiet cacophony of many people talking simultaneously, to which Molly paid no attention. She was focused on maintaining her composure, and keeping her breath under control, trying not to move a muscle. Miss Gwen came into her field of view from time to time, consuming some fruit and chatting with the others, virtually ignoring Molly.

Ultimately, all that was left were the two pineapple rings, and the lone cherry that was still inserted in Molly's cunt. One woman approached the table, leaning slightly over Molly's right breast, but looking across the table. Speaking to her friend there, the woman said, "Barbara, why don't you give that pineapple ring to George, while I give this one to Alan? Then you and I can lick up whatever juice they leave behind."

The woman named Barbara must've agreed, because Molly saw their hands lift the pineapple rings off her breasts, baring them fully to everyone's view. After a moment's pause, the women leaned in and started licking Molly's breasts, starting low along her curves, and working their way slowly up toward her nipples. Warm pink tongues lapped and lapped, gradually ascending the mounds of her tits. Molly's view was partially blocked by their heads, but the faces she could see in the room appeared to be riveted to watching the women licking and sensuously sucking at her flesh.

The cherry inside her cunt was partially blocking Molly's cunt juices from flowing out, but as the stimulation from the tit sucking grew more intense, some small amount finally worked its way free. As she felt it trickle along her labia and down into her ass crack, she was certain she heard soft mutterings as people drew each other's attention to her arousal. The women had reached the edges of her areolae by now, and in silent coordination, each engulfed her entire areola with soft lips and suckled the entire region surrounding her nipples. Tongues were also flicking those nipples, making them even more engorged. When the women withdrew their mouths, Molly's formerly roseate nipples appeared flame red with all that fresh blood in them. There was polite applause around the room.

Looking down her body, Molly could see a solitary cherry stem, poking up out of her cunt opening. That was all she was wearing now – a single cherry. But not for long. One elderly but distinguished gentleman – probably the host – leaned in over Molly's pussy, and seized the cherry stem with pearly white teeth. He raised his head slowly. Molly could feel the trapped cherry being pulled upward. Her vaginal ring's resilience tried to prevent the cherry from escaping, but her copious lubrication made it quite slippery. The man could've tugged it free quite easily, in fact. But he was prolonging the moment, partially for dramatic effect, and partially to spend more time close to Molly's exposed sex.

Finally, the cherry pulled free, and more polite applause erupted when the host turned, still holding the cherry by its stem, and let his partner take it into her mouth. Everyone knew it was coated with Molly's pussy juices. The woman pulled the cherry off its stem, her partner discarded the stem from his mouth, and the two of them kissed before the woman actually ate the cherry, discretely discarding its pit.

Meanwhile, many, if not all, of the remaining eyes were focused on Molly's vaginal opening. It was still partially distended from the cherry's removal, and drooling cunt juices. Molly was vaguely aware of how badly she was leaking, but couldn't do a thing to stem the flow. Now not only naked, but displaying her raw sensuality, Molly found her mood changing. Her shyness was evaporating as her innate streak of exhibitionism was taking hold. She was almost disappointed as the party guests wandered out of the dining area, and back into the other room. Servers re-entered from the kitchen, and two of them quietly closed the double doors. Only Miss Gwen remained behind.

As the Dominatrix approached Molly's head, Molly asked her, "Are we done, Miss?"

Miss Gwen smiled down at her. "No, silly," she answered with a lilt in her voice. "That was only the first course." From her tone of voice, Molly judged that Miss Gwen was quite pleased with her performance.

Servers, both male and female, came up to Molly with warm, damp wash cloths and thoroughly cleaned her body of any remaining traces of the fruits, wiping it dry with fluffy cloths as well. Molly recognized Andre as he applied a wash cloth diligently between her thighs. He washed and wiped her labia, inside and out, and even screwed a corner of the cloth into her vaginal opening. Molly almost giggled from the strange sensation of the fluffy material brushing against her sensitive clit, which was still partially puffy with her arousal.

"Shall we change the tablecloth, Madam?" Andre asked Miss Gwen, pointing at the dampened region beneath Molly's pussy.

"No, Andre. I think the guests appreciate seeing how lusty my little slut is. That's liquid evidence of the fact." The two smiled at each other as Molly's cheeks and neck flushed red with a surge of humiliation. She wondered how big a stain she was leaving down there, but couldn't tell.

"The bridge now, Andre," Miss Gwen told him. As he went to fetch it, she said to Molly, "Turn over, my dear little slut. Face down on the center of the table."

Molly carefully turned and wiggled until she was positioned, pillowing her head on her crossed arms.

"Press down with your hands and arch your torso up off the table," Miss Gwen commanded her.

As Molly did so, Miss Gwen and Andre maneuvered a cunning device underneath her. Its base sat flush with the top of the table. Rising up from that base were two curved side rails that ultimately ran alongside Molly's torso, ending their curve at her armpit/collarbone region. From there, it went forward to form a padded platform, on which she could rest her head, sideways. Her tits dangled freely beneath her, easily seen between the table top and the curved rails. Miss Gwen had Molly stretch her arms forward along the table surface, palms up.

Someone applied a damp washcloth to Molly's butt, removing any traces of her cunt juices that had leaked beneath her when she was on her back. The area was dried with a fluffy towel again, making Molly grin. Now everyone would see her backside, she imagined. Something, some kind of bowl, was placed between Molly's knees, forcing her to shift her thighs sideways a bit. She realized this would bring her ass hole and cunt into full view. That thought pleased her, since now a mood of exhibitionism was predominant in her mind.

She felt things being placed on her palms. Carefully lifting and turning her head, she saw... sushi. The main course would consist of sushi, which could be finger food, or could be eaten with chopsticks. Unlike the cold fruit, the sushi pieces were neutral in temperature. She turned her head and rested her cheek on the padding, smiling. She had to admit – being the center of attention was turning out to be quite fun. Her main regret was that in this position, she'd have very little idea what the final display would look like.