Wherein I discover the truth... and volunteer for a life-change
Author's note
: this is part 3 of a 12-part story arc which I've put under Group Sex (see Chapter 1). Like all my stories, it begins with character development and in this case, over several chapters. The chapters can have the elements of a number of different categories and I will try to give advance warning. This one is primarily Group, Bi/Lesbian, First Time and more background. And a gentle reminder: this is all Fiction – Willing Suspension of Disbelief recommended...
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
The only light filtering into Dave's room came from a concrete window well that was more like a mine shaft. Because of the setback into the hill, natural light and ventilation had to be piped down from the lawn above. It gave the room an eerie sort of permanent dusk look to it, without the artificial light to assist. And that's what I woke up to... a very disorienting dusk. And an empty bed.
I thought I remembered most of last night, and obviously it hadn't been a dream or I would've woken up in my hotel room, and not have a rather sore pussy and ass. I remembered showering and falling asleep with Dave, tucking into him like he was a high school sweetheart. The romantic and the libidinous in me had fought it out for dominance last night and the referee – me – declared it a tie. Personally, I think libido won, but not by much.
I struggled to sit up and immediately found several things to warm my heart. First, hot coffee. Right next to the bed. And a note attached to a bottle of pills next to my cell phone. The note read:
Good morning, lovely lady!
The coffee's for you. So are the pills. An Acetaminophen #3, several Aleve, a multivitamin and some Benadryl. They should help any hangover feelings you might have. Molly's washing your clothes.
If you need it, there's Dibucaine ointment in the medicine chest in the bathroom. There's women's clothes in the closet as well as men's. Jerry is very accommodating.
Call me when you want breakfast or just wander upstairs. My mobile is now in your contacts under "Dave LCH". Thank you for a wonderfully fantastic night!
Cheers,
Dave
I decided a trip to the bathroom was top on the priority list, right after slugging down the pills with the coffee. The bedroom had its own bath and I eased out of bed and wobbled over to it, managing to make it to sitting down without falling down or breaking anything. I definitely felt worked over. But, God, I loved it! Maybe I'm part masochist without knowing it.
After realizing how sore my nethers were, I decided the anesthetic ointment was a good idea. I found a tube of Nupercainal in the medicine chest and applied it liberally to my vulva and anus. It stung a little in a couple of places, so maybe I'd torn something taking those guys, but it wasn't bad and didn't last long. I stopped to take a look at myself in the full length mirror before going in search of clothes.
I'm not bad. I'm just not twenty anymore. I have a "woman's body", rather than the skinny girl of my youth. And personally, I think I wear it well. I'm not going to win any beauty contests, but my skin is mostly blemish free, my tits are firm and my ass is toned, as are my arms and legs. I have a slightly rounder belly than I'd like, but that would just be paying closer attention to my diet and exercise. And my God, did I get exercised!
I was sporting a silly grin when I walked out of the bathroom and headed for the closet. Dave was right – Jerry was definitely accommodating. One side of the double-door closet had a variety of men's clothing in various sizes and the other had the same for women.
I riffled through the hanging clothes and found several I could almost wear. I don't really fit "off-the-rack" very well, but I found a white V-cut halter top sundress in a size 6 that I could squeeze into, although it was a bit tight in the bust. Thank goodness for the halter. I actually looked pretty good in it.
I looked around for panties and a bra. Found the panties, didn't find the bra. My impish side decided that was close enough and I'd wear the sundress and go braless. I was feeling very daring this morning.
I found a pair of flip-flops to fit me and thus attired, I decided to seek out breakfast. I would save calling Dave as a last resort. Besides, it was an excuse to explore this beautiful home. I wandered into the hall and back through the living room, to the elevator. Remembering I wanted "1", I pushed it and rode up to the foyer I'd first entered last night.
I walked across the ballroom and through the dining room to the breakfast nook. I didn't see anyone, so I went left, back around the corner of the kitchen and ran into a very pretty woman in denim shorts and a see-through T-shirt. Well, very thin anyway. She was small, maybe 5'2" and had medium brown skin, and very long black hair braided down her back. She looked up as I entered. Oh, my God, her eyes were a brilliant green... a real, honest to God, electric jade color! I stared.
"Hi," she addressed me. "You must be Beth. If you are looking for breakfast, I will have it ready for you in a moment."
She had a very pleasant, soft voice with a bit of an accent... and I suddenly realized 'French', as in French Polynesia. I tore myself out my trance.
"You must be Molly," I observed.
"Yes, ma'am," she told me. "Would you like a lot or a little breakfast? I have just about anything you might want, from bacon and eggs, to fruit and yogurt, to cold or hot cereal, and several different juices, plus coffee. I can do pancakes or waffles, if you'd like."
"Thank you, Molly," I told her. "Let's keep it simple. Some kind of muffin, mixed fruit, orange juice and coffee. Is that okay?"
"Certainly, ma'am," she nodded and put down the vegetables she'd been washing and cutting up.
"I don't mean to stop you from your work," I told her. I definitely didn't want to impose, since I was only a guest here.
"You
are
my work, ma'am," she told me. "I am Mr. Jerry's housekeeper, chef, laundress... whatever. It is no problem. Please, have a seat and give me a minute."
I sat down on a stool near a small breakfast bar and avoided studying the woman, though I really wanted to. It was literally less than a minute before she'd delivered my requested breakfast – a cranberry muffin, cut up melons, grapes, strawberries and mandarin oranges, OJ and coffee, black. I thanked her and dug in while she went back to her food prep.
When I'd finished up and was on my second cup of coffee, I asked Molly, "do you know where I can find the guys?"
"I think they're in a meeting," she told me. "Something glitched with today's plans and I think they're talking about it."
"Do you know where the meeting is?" I asked.
"Probably down in the studio," she told me, "or maybe in the library."
"Studio?" I asked. "Where do I find the studio?"
"Level 3. Straight past the laundry room," she told me. "First time here, huh?"
"Yeah, as of last night," I smiled. "And thanks for breakfast! You have a great day..."
"Yes, ma'am," she nodded with a smile.
I left her to her work and wandered back over to the elevator.
Level 3, here I come!
I thought.
When the elevator doors opened on Level 3, it was a lot less impressive than floors G, 1 and 2. It looked like a massive basement, all concrete and fluorescent fixtures. It was broken up into several areas as far as I could see from the elevator. There was a shop with wood- and metalworking equipment, and I could see a workout area. There was a long corridor through piles of stuff which was obviously storage and a sunlit door at the far end that must have led out to the tennis court.
I noticed a corridor leading back into the hill on my left, so I headed that way. I passed a door that had the word "Quarters" on it and presumed that's where Molly lived. Farther on I passed through the laundry room – with large industrial strength equipment – and found myself facing a steel door with the word "Studio" on it. I opened it and walked in.
It was a little disorienting at first. It was kind of like walking backstage at a theatre. There were all kinds of piping and cables and ducts and stuff running along the ceiling, and there were 2x4-and-canvas flats that were obviously used for building sets. There were racks of clothes, which I figured must be costumes, along one entire wall, and lighting pieces and other general theatre stuff scattered around.
I heard voices – I thought they might be the guys – so I picked my way through the detritus to see if I could find them. I had to skirt around a couple of flats and then I turned into the main stage area. I came to a dead stop. The place looked like a dungeon. A Spanish Inquisition type dungeon.
There were all kinds of tables and stocks made out of pipe and big wooden X's and other stuff, and hanging on the walls were whips and paddles and manacles and chains and God knows what else. There were lights hanging off pipes in the ceiling and three or four tripods on casters and in the middle, another huge bed like the one in Jerry's room, in stark contrast to the medieval torture theme adorning the walls. This was all silks and satins and big throw pillows and such, and sitting on the far side talking were Los Cinco Hermanos.
I got a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as I realized exactly what kind of filmmaking Jerry might be into. And what today's shoot was supposed to be... the one they'd had to cancel. I was probably looking like a deer in the headlights when Jackson noticed me.
"Man, we got company," he said quietly to Jerry. Jerry looked over and saw me.
"Shit."
It was a simple expression I've occasionally used, but coming from him it communicated volumes.
I wasn't supposed to be there. I wasn't supposed to know about his actual business. And then it hit me... Himeros Productions. Himeros was the Greek god of Lust. A son of Aphrodite and Ares, one of the Erotes, like Eros running around shooting people with his arrows.
Jerry made porn. Fuck. I turned to get the hell out of there.
"Hey, Beth! Wait a second!" Jerry called over to me, but I just kept trying to climb around the mess in my way and get back to the door.
"Hey, wait!" he called again, and I could hear him coming after me. "It isn't what you think!" he called out, then added, "Well, maybe it is, but it doesn't have anything to do with you! Really! C'mon..."
I was so busy paying attention to the floor and Jerry's voice that I didn't notice Jackson standing in front of me, between me and the door. I plowed right into him. Thank God he caught me! Falling could have gotten me severely banged up.
