Feb, 16
[Drawn in the Margin: An iris with many petals, highly detailed, the stem of the flower wrapped around a stripper pole. The iris has drops dew on the petals, dripping off onto the stage. In the background, an Eastern-style dragon.]
Short, short, -short- shorts. I could feel my butt cheeks hanging out of the bottom of the tiny pants, and I tugged at them constantly, fighting to pull them out of my ass. Fortunately, the halter top I'd borrowed from Kat fit me a little better. The revealing top would give anyone a generous view of my boobs - which was the point. Tonight, we were eye candy.
Kat had explained to me fully: Master brought his female slaves every time he hosted a party. The girls were there to flirt, flatter, and show Master's guy friends a good time. I had to get clarification on what 'A good time' meant. Basically, we laugh at their jokes, let them play with our boobs, sit in their laps, hang all over them, etc.
"Just ho it up a notch," -Kat.
She told me it was possible Master would let some of the men (or women) take some of the slave girls up to a guest bedroom, but that it was always up to Master. In other words, flirting and fondling is good, but if they wanted sex they had to get permission from Mr. Morgan.
How interesting and different from what I was taught. I guess I'd just assumed whatever Master I was with would be the jealous type. Kat told me that wasn't at all the case for Mr. Morgan, and the only women he doesn't share with his buddies are Margaret and Winnie, his number one and two favorites.
The party was held in the multipurpose room, where Margaret, ever the organizer and our fearless leader, had brought in chairs and couches. Most of the seats were arranged around a stripper pole. Nearby, a handsome young DJ was preparing a setup, complete with speakers and a laptop. I noticed the array of black lights arranged around the pole, ready to light. A ping pong table was set up opposite the seating, paddles ready to go. I was excited about that, remembering Master and his friend Jayden playing Ping pong when I first arrived. I hoped the table wasn't just for beer pong!
The room connected to the indoor pool, and I could see the doors had already been pulled open. Shauna was by the pool in a bikini, her feet dangling in the water. She waved as we entered.
Kat led me to the bar in the pool area, where we sat and talked to Joyce. It turns out, Joyce is a capable bartender in addition to being a master chef.
Margaret came through shortly, snapping her fingers to get everyone's attention.
"Master's ETA is five." She said, "He has company, girls, so be ready to entertain. Marcie, has Kat filled you in on what you're doing tonight?" I startled, stuttering as I answered.
"Uh, yes ma'am, we're uh, flirt but don't fuck unless Master says." Kat giggled, Joyce laughed out loud, and Margaret smirked.
"That's the gist of it, yes. Be a tease, not a slut. Remember you're his party favors. You're flirting on his behalf. Take this seriously, please! Okay ladies, have a good night."
Margaret was the only person who could make being a skank sound like a tough, serious job.
Kat struck up a conversation with Joyce, and Yvette and Emily joined us. Yvette wore a very enticing negligee with sweatpants, a strange but comfortable looking combination. Winnie was nowhere to be found, but I had expected that. I wondered where Abigail was.
"Is Abigail coming?" I asked Kat.
"Oh, she dances. She'll be here a little later." Kat replied.
"Dances...?" I started to ask, but then I remembered the stripper pole in the multipurpose room. "Oh! Cool. I wonder if she could teach me. That's such a neat skill,"
"Yeah, I'm sure she would. Abby's really good at it." Kat replied.
We waited a bit longer. Kat talked constantly, and a very bemused Joyce humored her. I was grateful to the chef for handling the brunt of Kat's natural chattiness. I had other things on my mind. I was getting nervous about flirting with a bunch of random men. I was worried I'd go too far and upset Master, or not far enough and disappoint him. I resolved to watch Kat and use her as a guideline. However slutty Kat got, I'd just match that.
I turned back to Joyce.
"Are we allowed to drink?" I asked.
"It's encouraged," Kat butted in, smiling, "Especially if it makes you a better flirt."
"Joyce, can I have... something," I asked, "For my nerves?" The chef smiled, mixing some kind of fruity drink for me.
Master arrived as I was taking my first sip. He came in with an entourage, perhaps ten or fifteen people. A gang of handsome, well-dressed young men spilled through the doors in the main room, laughing with each other and joking. Amongst them were several women, which surprised me. I wondered if some of the men had brought their girlfriends. I thought that was a faux pa at a bachelor party?
The partiers overtook the house like a swarm of locusts. Some of them went immediately to the ping pong table. I guess it's a big pastime for Master and his friends. Many of them crowded around the bar. Joyce was swamped immediately, but the lady is a damn pro with a cup and bottle. She dispensed drinks like a machine, sating the thirsty throng.
I took a sip of my own fruity something-or-other, trying to flash flirty smiles at the men. I felt ignored as they pressed around us. Kat knew some of the guys, so she was calling them over, already hugging them and laughing at their stupid jokes. I suppose that makes sense. This wasn't her first party.
I watched Kat for a moment. She was hugging one of the guys, and he quickly ran a hand down to her butt. She didn't seem to mind. After hugging one, she moved on to the next guy. He clapped both hands on her ass, lifting the giggling girl into the air. She laughed and joked about how strong he was. If flirting were art, Kat was Michelangelo.
I calmed myself, and tried to be dumb, sexy, and flirty. I smiled at a guy beside me at the bar. He was a handsome, tall, white man with a thin beard.
"Hi. I'm Marcie," I introduced myself. I was trying to be upbeat and happy like Kat. He raised one eyebrow at me.
"Um, hey." He replied, before grabbing his drink and leaving.
Oof.
It's not my fault I'm a terrible slut. I was trained to please one master, not to flirt with strangers at a bar. But flirting is not hard. Maybe I just needed to warm up.
I drained my drink, stood, and walked out of the pool area toward the multipurpose room. Loud music had begun to play, and I wanted to see if Abigail was dancing. As I passed the pool, I saw a couple of party guests already swimming in their underwear, chicken-fighting. Apparently it was boys vs. girls, because Shauna was straddling the shoulders of one of Master's lady guests while they struggled against a column of men. Everyone was laughing and yelling, having a good time.
In the main room, Master had claimed the prime seat in the center of the room. Despite the extremely casual party, He wore a button up with rolled up sleeves, which I had to admit looked good on him. A few important looking people surrounded him, and he held their rapt attention as he told a story. He glanced up as I entered, and for a second I thought he was looking at me, but Margaret walked around me, carrying a drink for him. Madam Dubois, his lady friend from the ball, was by his side. I decided to stay away from that action. It looked intimidating and intense.
There was no obvious place for me to go. I saw people arrayed around in the tightly closed circles that parties sometimes form. Breaking into one of those felt intimidating. A big part of me wanted to pull up at the Ping Pong table and forget about being a slut. Fortunately, A distraction would save me from the social nightmare of forcing my way into a clique. The music began to pick up in rhythm and sound, in sync with a subtle dimming of the lights. Something was happening, and everyone noticed.
Abigail entered the room through the double doors. She was topless, wearing only a pair of spandex shorts and tall, heeled boots. I heard whooping and cheering from around the room, and even through the doors to the pool area. The regulars knew her well.
Immediately, she powerfully commanded the attention of everyone in the room. The music continued to elevate as she strutted, slowly and seductively, across the floor. Each footstep matched another heart shaking thud of the music. Her eyes flicked side to side, staring down the boys in the room. She winked and kissed the air, eliciting cheers as she walked.
When she reached the center of the room, Abigail set one foot on the raised platform with the pole, and grasped the cool steel with a hand. She held the pose to the sound of cheers around the room, encouraging her to keep going. Instead, Abigail taunted the thirsty men, holding her position with a cocky smirk.
Abigail is fucking hot.
She looked back over her shoulder at Master and winked, blowing a kiss. He blew one back, wearing a big cheesy grin. Mr. Morgan was enjoying the hell out of Abigail, and she knew it.
Sitting obediently next to Master, Margaret glared an absolute dagger back at Abigail. I'm not sure anyone else noticed, but I did. I could smell her jealousy across the room, and she disguised it poorly. It emanated from her like a fog. Margaret glowered miserably. I'll bet Abigail enjoyed stealing some attention from Master's favorite slave.
The music continued to ramp up, building anticipation. Abigail brought her other leg up, climbing onto the platform. She held the pole with both hands. With her eyes closed, she danced slowly, swaying side to side with the music. Suddenly, the music cut out, blanketing the room in a deafening silence. It seemed that no one in the room breathed, so thick was the anticipation. The lights continued to dim until the darkness was total.
The beat came back hard, and at the same time the black lights flicked on, revealing Abigail's body paint. I could see my handiwork as it shone in the black light, an Eastern style dragon coiled on her stomach, its tail falling down her back and around one leg. As soon as the beat dropped, she took to the pole like a pro. Her dance synced with the music perfectly as she flipped upside down, her long legs kicking up in the air. She twirled endlessly, a mesmerizing display of beauty, grace, and strength.
I kind of wanted her to step on me.
The guys around me were as captive as I was. For a time, everyone in that room belonged to Abigail. We all watched her every move, seduced by her fluid beauty. Her dance was flowing, her body perfect, and our hearts were putty in between the lithe fingers of the dancing seductress.
