Molly was fidgeting.
She couldn't help it. She was pacing. She had to. She couldn't sit still. This was the day. The day of the party for the so-called 'sex group' had arrived. The one for which Mr. X had tested her. Apparently, they gathered about once a month for such parties, and Mr. X supplied the center of attraction for the events. In this case - her. She was on pins and needles, glancing at the clock about once a minute. The anticipation and waiting was gut-twisting, since she had no idea how many people would be there, and what she'd be required to do.
Miss Gwen had called about an hour ago. "Are you ready, my slut girl?" she'd asked.
"Almost, Miss. I'm on schedule. I just got out of the shower, and dried off my body. I still need to fix my hair and makeup, and dress simply as Mr. X instructed me to do," Molly replied, kneeling humbly as she spoke with her Mistress. Even though they were speaking on the phone, Miss Gwen seemed to sense if Molly was kneeling or not.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news, pet," Miss Gwen had said. "Something has come up, and Thomas and I won't be able to attend. Therefore, Mr. X is sending his car for you." She gave Molly a description of the car that would pick her up, instead.
Molly's heart sank a bit. "So you won't be there, Miss? I'll be all alone?" she asked, voice trembling with elevated nervousness now.
"Silly girl," Miss Gwen admonished her. "You won't be alone. Mr. X will be there, of course, watching over you and making certain your limits are respected."
This response made Molly feel a little more secure, but it wouldn't be the same without her Mistress being present. "I understand, Miss."
"Good. I'll expect a full report from you when I see you - if not late tonight, then tomorrow for certain," Gwen said, before telling Molly to be obedient, and wishing her good luck.
Hence Molly's pacing, and clock-watching. And peeking out her window, watching for the car, dressed in a simple black dress, with no bra or panties, and just slip-on sandals. There was no doubt that she was excited, though. She was carrying a towel in her hand, and occasionally lifting the front of her dress to blot her leaking pussy with it. She had to do this so often that she decided she'd better take the towel with her in the car, so she wouldn't stain its seats.
Finally, after a mind-numbing eternity, the car arrived, and Molly hustled out to it. The chauffeur helped her into the sleek, dark blue town car, and whisked her away to her destination. If the chauffeur thought it strange that she'd placed a towel on the car seat, and sort of fluffed out her dress hem while sitting down on it, he kept such opinions to himself. Molly opened the car windows slightly, not enough to tussle her hair around, but enough to breathe the fresh, warm summer air. After a while, the car slowed, and turned, traveling now on a long driveway toward a house.
It was not Mr. X's house. Molly had no idea where she was, really. The large houses were spaced well apart with walled or fenced yards, and trees and shrubs adding to their partial seclusion. There were about a half-dozen cars parked at various locations along the drive and near the side of the house, making her wonder how many people were here. She was practically dragging her feet as she walked from the car to the colonnaded front door to the house.
A tall, brown haired stranger answered the door, saying, "Hello, you are Molly?" At her nod, he continued, "I'm the home owner and the host of this party. Please come in."
Molly tried to look past his shoulder, asking, "Is Mr. X here?" She was leery of just walking in like that.
The man got an amused smile on his face. "Oh, is that what he told you to call him? Very well. That's Mr. X's car you just arrived in, and yes, he's here. You'll see him in the main room. But please come along with me for the moment."
Since it was indeed the car Miss Gwen had told her to expect, Molly felt better following the stranger as he led her down a corridor to a small sitting room on the first floor. The invigorating fragrance of fresh cut flowers emanated from vases along the corridor. Molly could hear other voices, lots of them, speaking in an animated fashion, elsewhere in the house. The voice were muffled as the host closed the door to the room behind them.
"You appear to be properly dressed, Molly. Strip now," the host instructed her.
She was a little startled by the abruptness of his command, and the fact that he'd shut them into this small room alone. Gathering her wits, she stepped out of her sandals, turned her back to him and asked, "Would you please undo my zipper?"
The host lowered her zipper slowly, even sensuously, which gave Molly a pleasurable shiver. The heat from his hand left a glowing trail on her flesh as it traveled downward. She took hold of the top of her dress, to keep it from falling. When her zipper was unzipped down to its lowest point, just above the rise of her ass, she turned to face him, and coquettishly began lowering the dress. Since she wore nothing else, she was giving him a show - revealing her tits, then her belly, then her mound and sex, and finally her shapely legs. Miss Gwen's training was certainly turning her into a slut.
