Party Party Party Ch 03

It was awful. Michelle had known Mike and Louise for years, they had been to each others house-parties many times. Now it had turned out that they had a second life, where they had been to wild show-business events and now the first time that they'd joined them at such an event Mike had died.

Mike and Louise had stayed on at the party after Derek and Michelle had left. At some point during the night, Mike had been found naked and very dead in the pool and no-one had any idea how it had happened.

A few hours later a Police Officer turned up at Michelle's house, demanding to know everything about the evening. Times, names, places, what, when, why, where, who, how. There was no end to questions that she couldn't answer.

She wasn't even sure where the place was, never mind everyone who had been there. She couldn't recall exactly when she had last seen Mike, and where Louise had been at that time.

The whole thing was hugely embarrassing given that she had spent most of the evening dressed only in scanty panties. The middle-aged rather stout detective was sympathetic and didn't even spend too much time checking out her chest but her head was whirling and she was concerned about Louise. She hadn't heard from her friend, who could be an annoying show-off at times but was fun and must now be devastated.

And she still didn't know what had happened. Did the Police send detectives if someone had had a heart attack? If someone had drowned? Did it mean that he had been murdered? She had the impression that the officer didn't even know himself what had occurred.

The officer wrote everything down and she signed his notes; and that was that. No, he didn't want her red panties as some weird evidence, he just left.

Within a day some details came out, of course. It was all over the press - lurid accounts of sex, drugs, rock & roll. Mike had been murdered, stabbed in some confrontation and had ended up bleeding in the pool. Tabloid journalists were trying to photograph everyone known to Bernie and Anastasia, tapping phones and waving large amounts of cash to anyone they thought could have anything to say.

* * *

Some months went by without anyone being arrested, the story faded from the front pages and then from the middle ones as well.

Then one day out of the blue Michelle received a request to meet detectives at a local police station.

When she arrived for her appointment she was ushered into a bleak office furnished with only a table and some chairs. She was looking forward to seeing a transparent incident board with lots of photographs, arrows and scribbled names like she had seen on TV dramas but none were to be seen.

Worn thin carpet was on the floor, old Health & Safety posters and faded missives to 'Police With a Purpose' were stuck with tape onto scuffed painted walls. Some wag had altered the last word to 'Porpoise' and drawn in a police officer carrying a fish.

A Detective Inspector Hamilton was waiting to speak to her and initially repeated the same questions that she didn't know the answers to before.

No, she had never been to the house previously. No, she had never met any of the guests or staff apart from Mike and Louise. No, to lots of things.

Then the Inspector told her some background; officers had been conducting an investigation at the property for some time and he had an amazing proposition, he wanted her to go back and meet everyone at another party and report back to him.

He apparently had an undercover officer already on the staff but needed a person to see things from the point of view of the guests and to listen for any chat about the murder. As she had been there before, the others would not be as suspicious as they might of a stranger and she would be perfect.

She found herself agreeing to this, whereupon she was told that Derek had already been approached and agreed. Then she was introduced to the undercover officer, who entered the room - whom she recognised.

It was the nude waiter with the enormous penis.

* * *

Detective Constable Andy Mills had just the same recognisable mop of dark curly hair but as her memory was of him standing naked being masturbated by Anastasia, Michelle was disconcerted to see him in this environment.

He smiled "I know, you didn't recognise me with my clothes on."

"Well, sort of. You're different, certainly."

"Pardon me", he replied "I know that you were a guest but there were many people there and I'm not sure if I remember you either."

Michelle paused. "I was wearing a yellow dress. With red shoes."

He showed no recognition so she continued, "And red panties and shoes."

"Oh yes" he grinned. "The red thong lady. Red hair to match the panties."

The detective explained that it had been his first night at the house. He had managed to be accepted as a waiter in order to infiltrate the organisation and observe the goings-on. "I didn't realise that I was going to be chosen to get naked, neither did the girl. It was her first time as well, which was probably why we were voted for. Everyone else had already been chosen several times.

"It turns out that the girl's a journalist, also undercover doing a freelance investigative piece. I didn't know of course, neither did she of me. I had an entry to the job by the owner of the agency that supplies the staff for the parties, she had to apply like everyone else, it took her months to get a place, typical luck that we both ended up there that night. She was doing a story on the wild sex parties, I'm investigating drugs importation."

"But I never saw any drugs."

"Didn't you notice the table in the corner with bowls of white powder? What about the girl lying down with people queuing up to sniff from her boobs?"

Michelle sat quietly; she had no knowledge of such things, she didn't even smoke tobacco.

Inspector Hamilton spoke, "Right, are we okay on things then? There's an event next weekend, we'll need you both there. Just report back afterwards on what you saw. Don't worry, we've got you invitations already and we've spoken to Derek."

He was holding an invitation for two. She examined the card; at the bottom was the line: 'Party Theme and Dress Code - The Court of Queen Nefertiti'.

"If Derek thinks it's fine, I'll help."

"He's more than happy to help with the investigation into the murder of his best friend, as long as you were willing. We'll give you a full briefing before it happens, well done - we're happy to have you on board."

* * *

When Michelle returned home, Derek was waiting. "What happened, did you agree?"

"Yes, I did. The Policeman gave me the invitations."

She read it out loud. "Party Theme and Dress Code - The Court of Queen Nefertiti - What does that mean; what did she wear?"

"What did all the ancient Egyptians wear? White robes, crowns, sandals. Simple."

* * *

On the date, Michelle and Derek dressed for the party. She devised a head-dress from a folded striped cloth that draped down over her shoulders, a white linen sheet folded into a dress held with a brooch over her boobs with bare shoulders and rope sandals. She wore a white thong underneath and a necklace of blue stones.

Derek made a similar robe but with a piece draped over a shoulder. Michelle thought that it looked more like a Roman toga but let it ride.

When they arrived at the mansion, they were greeted by a doorman wearing a white loincloth, carrying a whip.

Anastasia was waiting in the hallway, wearing a white dress fastened under her plastic breasts which were bare. The material was very fine and sheer, the front gaped open and clearly she wore nothing underneath. She had a green painted head-dress flaring out to a flat top, and a flat wide necklace of blue stones which sat level on her shoulders and down towards the sudden swell of her boobs. She had heavy black make-up on her eyebrows and lining her eyes.

"Oh no, that's the wrong era, that's more Cleopatra." She called out to Michelle. "Let's get you more accurate."

She took the dress and swiftly pulled it down exposing Michelle's breasts. "Those weren't ever covered until hundreds of years after Nefertiti. Even Cleopatra would regularly have been topless. Look it up when you get home." She opened the front. "Underwear wouldn't be invented for thousands of years." She tugged down the thong and tossed it to the doorman.

Michelle was shocked to have someone undressing her in front of the man. Anastasia continued unconcerned. "Hmm, the necklace is okay, the head-dress is way too late." She removed the offending article and examined Michelle's hair style. "Close and straight, that's fine".

Anastasia looked over Derek. "Same again, you shouldn't take notice of Hollywood." She removed his robe and re-folded it into a loose strip. "Underwear off," she commanded.

Then as Derek stood naked in the hallway she fashioned the cloth into a loincloth, tied with a knot at the front so that it was tightly pouching his genitals and lying loosely over his thighs. She stood back and looked over them both.

"Much better. You haven't been to any of the theme parties before have you? We've had some excellent ones, you should have come to the one on the Roman Emperor Claudius and his wife Valerie Messalina - that was a legendary night. If you've never heard of her, Valerie won a competition against the most famous prostitute of Rome, for who could screw the most men in a single night. Quite a girl. Come with me."

They entered the main hall and were handed drinks by a naked servant as Anastasia continued, "The slaves would never have been clothed, no point in wasting cloth".

The female 'slave' had her hair loose over her shoulders. She wore not even shoes.

Anastasia introduced them to another couple, "This is Bob and Karen, look after Michelle and Derek won't you", then she was bounding off with her rigidly inflated breasts to circulate with other guests.

Karen was wearing a pair of loose sheer pants tied around the ankles and fastened with a brooch just above her mons. The chiffon-like material did little to disguise the fact that she was clean-shaven underneath. She wore a wide flat necklace over bare breasts, with her nipples peeping below.

Bob was wearing a similar loincloth to Derek. "Are you newcomers, you just came to the last one of these? What a bad do about the guy who died. Really sad. It's brought some really unfortunate attention from people who we'd prefer left us alone."

Derek looked around, "Will there be a vote like last time, for anyone to get naked?"

Karen looked around pointedly. "No point with these theme parties, that race has been run already."

They ate as before, served by naked slaves. Michelle spotted Andy working on the other side of the room. He seemed to have oiled his body which gleamed. She couldn't see the female journalist.

The waitress that served their table had tiny breasts and was slim, pale and clean-shaved. She had stubbly short hair on her head and pretty, perky features.

They were served grapes and other fruit and had their wine poured from clay urns. Andy came across to serve wine, but didn't acknowledge Michelle even as she openly admired his glorious cock dangling freely and shining with oil.

The dinner was supervised by the doorman slave-master who cracked his whip at any slave that he thought was slacking.

At the end he called out the waitress with the short hair from their table to stand at the front of the assembly on a low stage area. She was carefully bound by the wrists with cord and then a rope from the ceiling held her hands high in the air, her feet barely able to touch the ground.

When she was fully restrained she was whipped by the slave-master on the buttocks to cheers from the crowd, and Anastasia then walked across and flicked a cane across her breasts. The girl flinched and cried out at every stroke.

Eventually she was whimpering and was cut down and scurried away rubbing her sore nipples, unable to reach her reddened bottom.

However she was called back by Anastasia who sat eating grapes on a throne with her legs wide apart and her dress open. She ordered the slave girl to kneel in front of her and use her tongue on Anastasia's pussy. All the while Bernie watched, smiling.

He was wearing an ornamental flat plate over his shoulders and a short wraparound kilt intricately pleated and tied at the front.

After a while Anastasia placed her feet on the arms of the throne so that her thighs were wide apart and the slave was deep between her legs licking and sucking on her clitoris, her wrists still bound together and red-striped ass raised in the air for all to view. With everyone watching Anastasia finally wrapped her legs around the slave's head and orgasmed.

The plentiful wine was still being poured as the lights dimmed and a spotlight shone. A black dancing girl appeared on the stage and a musician played a flute as the girl writhed and shimmied. She had skin gleaming with oil and had straight black hair with a white headband, which was her sole garment apart from a narrow beaded belt. There were heavy beads in her hair which were flung around as she moved, bouncing her small breasts with coal-black nipples.

A huge bald black man holding an animal skin stretched over a round frame was suddenly illuminated. He drummed frenetically on the skin, waving a stick high in the air. He was wearing a tall flared hat and a short black kilt pleated crisply to give a flat triangle in front.

As the flute wailed, the girl stepped and kicked sensually, spinning around abandoned in her nakedness. She back-flipped and somersaulted, pirouetted and leaped, moving fluidly with a complete lack of modesty as if there were no bones in her limbs. In the end she collapsed into a heap on the floor before being picked up by two male slaves.

In a sudden hush from the silenced drum and flute, the dancer stood upright and tore off her black wig to reveal a smoothly shaven head. She removed her belt and the two items were tossed across the stage. She glared at the audience and marched through the crowd to the exit to applause from the guests without a word. She was followed by the drummer, his enormous stomach stretching his kilt which was short enough for his penis to be just visible underneath.

Michelle glanced at Anastasia who she saw was watching the dancer but with her hand up Bernie's kilt, fondling him.

The lights came back on, Bernie called everyone to order and led the guests to the pool area where the night continued with debauchery in the same fashion as before. A woman with bright red lipstick knelt before Bernie to give him a blow-job, Anastasia didn't seem to mind and soon became naked as did several others.

Michelle took more notice of the crowd near to the side table and realised that yes, they were heavy consumers of whatever the white powder was.

Then she was approached by Andy, still gleaming all over with oil. "I want a quick word. Sit down while I tongue your pussy."

She looked at him sharply but his gaze was steady.

"I'm a slave, that's what I'm supposed to do."

Michelle found a comfortable chair and sat down. The detective knelt before her and opened her dress so that she was completely exposed - the sole fastening below her breasts just holding the garment from falling to the floor. He placed he face close to her pussy so that she could feel his warm breath on her body. "I need to know something; the woman wearing the blue dress, do you know the one?"

He paused and indicated a woman wearing a tight sheath dress of thin blue muslin, tied below her exposed breasts. Michelle was startled to feel his tongue again, running along the length of the groove between her labia. "Yes, I know the one".

"Find out her name, whatever you can." Again she felt his tongue against her most private flesh, while she sat in full view of all those people including her husband - Oh God, Derek!

She snapped her head around to see Derek standing, watching. He had been talking to the woman in the blue dress, now he could see his wife receiving oral sex from another man.

Still the tongue moved on her, stimulating her clitoris no matter how she denied the feeling. She did not wish to end it yet she had to, just as instinct told her to open her thighs even wider, allow even freer access.

Michelle pushed his head away and stood up, stepping towards her husband as her vulva felt suddenly empty and neglected. Her breathing was heavy and uneven as she spoke, "The woman in blue, who is she?"

"Were you enjoying that?"

"Never mind, who is the woman."

Derek looked at her with narrowed eyes. "That's Charlene, the actress that we were introduced to last time."

"Fantastic. Andy wanted to know, he was just covering up the conversation. What's her surname?"

"I don't know, it seemed rude to ask. I didn't get her phone number either."

"We'll talk later. First I have to tell Andy, stand back over there for a bit."

Michelle waved Andy over and Derek stepped back. She sat down and opened her dress ready, Andy knelt and resumed tonguing her pussy, running the tip back and fore between her labia and around the entrance to her vagina. When she was well-lubricated with his saliva mixed with her secretions she spoke with her unsteady breath.

"The woman is Charlene, an actress. We don't know her surname or where she's from."

"That's excellent, that's enough to find out who she is."

Andy stood up, making Michelle feel abandoned and frustrated again. She noticed that his penis was erect. She couldn't help notice; the thing stuck out cumbersomely and waved in the air as he turned around and walked away. It couldn't have been more obvious if he'd tied a flag to it.

She went to speak to Derek and make her peace. His face was straight but the thin cloth wrapped tightly around his genitals told a story.

Just then they were joined by Anastasia. "My dears, how did you enjoy the entertainment?"

Derek replied "We liked the dancer, but I was expecting more belly dancing than gymnastics."

"Oh, that's a modern invention really. Like that silly Wilson, Keppel and Betty stuff. Very funny comedy, not history. We tried to find an African dwarf to dance with her, that would have been more accurate but we couldn't find one who would - or could dance naked. It would have been very common to have dwarves involved apparently.

"The dancer was brilliant, wasn't she? The drummer is her father you know. We brought them in especially from Nubia. Did you notice that she had no body hair at all? She isn't shaved; she's plucked, one hair at a time. It increases the softness and sensitivity of the skin apparently. The women of the tribe do it to each other to make them more attractive to the men.

"Of course she's had the female circumcision, it's illegal nowadays. They amputate the clitoris of young girls - usually with pieces of broken glass in her tribe, then they're sewn up tightly to heal so that they are extra tight for her husband - it's quite barbaric. But it's supposed to enhance the sex when she gets married."

Michelle instinctively clutched at her groin. "That's terrible. The poor girl."

"Yes, the Saharan tribes still have many of the old traditions. Anyway enjoy the rest of the night."

With that Anastasia strode off, her pneumatic tits leading the way as normal. Michelle noticed that the woman with the lipstick was working on another man. He had red stains on his groin, where she had clearly managed to insert his penis fully into her mouth. Soon she was leaving that guest and moving onto another.

* * *

Derek had been silent during the journey home, so she had tried some old-fashioned seduction. Basically she had opened her dress in front of him and masturbated until he felt obliged to join in. Men - such simple souls. Mind, she had really needed relief so it hadn't really mattered at that point, her clitoris was going to be attended to whether he liked (or licked) it or not.