Now Miss Gwen (the editor) commands, and Molly (the writer) obeys.
That was the relationship the two of them now had, built on mutual trust and respect. Molly respected that Miss Gwen would always honor her limits, and Miss Gwen respected that Molly would not disappoint her.
However, what Miss Gwen told Molly over the phone did give her pause. Molly was naked, as she seemed to always be these days when writing. She was also kneeling, holding the phone to her ear, because the moment she heard Miss Gwen's voice, she dropped to her knees, as was expected.
"Please say that again, Miss," Molly requested.
"It's all quite simple, slut girl," Miss Gwen stated. "The man I'm telling you about organizes kinky parties for his friends. He saw you as the table decoration at the dinner party, and watched you being used by those men. He called me to ask if it might be possible to hire you for his next party."
"Hire me? Like he wants to pay me money to get fucked at his party, Miss?" Molly choked out.
"Oh don't worry, my little bitch. I know you want to keep your amateur standing. In hiring you, he won't pay you - he'll pay me. Even though I know you're a slut, we'll not turn you into a prostitute." Miss Gwen thought a moment, then continued, "Unless you beg me to experience that profession for some upcoming story, of course."
"But didn't I hear you say that he wants to 'test me' or something, Miss?"
"Yes, girl," Miss Gwen confirmed. "He always does that. He needs to test your reactions to certain situations. His parties deal with quite a bit more humiliation than you've experienced up until now."
Molly heard the word 'humiliation' and shuddered. That could mean so many things. But she also recalled being tied naked to that bed, when the three strangers walked in to see Eric's cum plopping out of her gaping ass hole. How mortified she felt being seen like that, and hearing their lewd comments. But she also remembered how she actually wanted those strangers to use her somehow, and how she'd confessed her excitement about it to Miss Gwen.
"And you won't be present while he's doing this, Miss?" Molly's voice squeaked slightly, betraying her fear.
"Molly," Miss Gwen said, grabbing her attention, since Miss Gwen rarely addressed her by name in these interactions. "I've known this man for many years, and I know his character. I trust him implicitly. I would be shocked if he did anything untoward with you. He knows it would ruin our relationship if he did, and he could end up shunned by his friends. Do you trust my judgment, girl?"
Molly didn't hesitate to answer, "Yes, Miss. I trust you. It's just that this is the first time you're asking me to 'solo' as it were."
"Yes, I am," her editor answered. "I think it's high time you did. He is also aware of your 'yellow' and 'red' safewords, and will certainly honor them, if necessary."
This is how Molly, on a warm summer day, came to be whisked to the isolated home of the mysterious Mr. X in Miss Gwen's town car. She kept fidgeting in her seat, wondering what he might do to her during this test. Upon their arrival, the chauffeur hopped out and hurried to open Molly's door. As he helped her out of the car, the chauffeur mentioned, "Miss Gwen instructed me to bring you here, wait for as long as it takes, and take you back to her office, afterward."
Molly, very nervous, impetuously gave the chauffeur a quick hug, murmuring, "Thank you." Since they were right on time, Mr. X was waiting for her on his front steps.
"You must be Molly," he said, standing with his arms crossed, looking her up and down.
"Yes, Sir," she answered, resisting the impulse to shyly scuff the toe of her shoe on the ground as she regarded his daunting body language. He seemed to emanate power, causing her to feel very small and intimidated.
"We may as well get started with your testing," he stated. "Take your clothes off."
"Here? On your front steps?" she exclaimed, feeling her thumping heart try to leap from her chest.
"Is there something wrong with your hearing, bitch? I said take them off!" he ordered, forcefully.
Molly was afraid his loud voice had carried back to where the chauffeur waited, so she glanced over her shoulder. That was a bad idea, because the movement of her head actually attracted his attention, so now he was also focused on her.
Face reddening, Molly reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. Stepping out of it, she rued the fact that she'd dressed with garters and stockings, wanting to look her best for this interview. Bemused, Mr. X, and probably the chauffeur as well, watched as her shaking hands undid the stocking clasps, and then rolled each stocking down her thighs and legs.
She stepped out of her shoes, and removed the rolled stockings from her feet. Straightening up, she became aware that she was now standing in a bra, panties, and a garter, outside on his front steps. She realized that the more she dawdled, the more likely it was that other people, driving by, might see her. Quickly, she unhooked the garter belt, then her bra, and dropped them both on her dress. Taking a deep breath, she fairly yanked down her panties, and now stood nude before him.
"Can we go inside now, Sir?" she begged, hunching over and hooking one arm across her chest, while her other hand splayed to cover her sex.
