Beetlesmiths Ch 18

As always, the wonderful Ms. Mariposa edited an early draft of this chapter. I should really be giving her hazardous duty pay by now, but I'm a cheapskate.

_______________________________

I made plans for about twenty guests.

Why twenty, you may ask. That was approximately the amount of elixir Beetlesmith had given me the last time. The two vials were still buried in my sock drawer, and even though they were hidden from my sight, just knowing of their presence continually tweaked my mind.

I really didn't think I would need the substance. Frankly, given that my mental powers and sexual endurance have grown exponentially—much like my cock—I could probably get the orgy started with a single thought, and keep it going with minimal effort. However, something inside me—that little voice I keep hearing now and again in my head—hinted at even greater pleasures with use of the elixir. So, I resigned myself to use the drug on the guests. As for Karen and me, we wouldn't be taking it, as there would be little point. It would be a waste of substance and two fewer guests could attend.

Besides the same crew that came to my last dinner party, I chose to invite a few friends and neighbors, specifically the Thompsons, Monroes, and the Farzanehs. I chose these three couples because each of the wives had a particular character I found appealing.

Gabrielle Thompson—or as her friends called her, Gabby—was every bit the chatterbox her nickname implied. To use an old cliché, she was a stubborn, hard bitten broad; dominant, confident, loud, and exceptionally funny. She played hard and drank harder, but she wasn't a drunk. Most of all, she didn't take any guff from anyone, particularly from her mousey husband, Phil. I figured when she got going, she'd burn through the men like a wildfire burns through a Kansas prairie on a hot, summer day.

Darcy Monroe was Gabby's exact opposite. Whereas Gabby was 'a broad'—and called herself as such—Darcy was every bit the lady; petite, even by female standards, delicate, modest, and soft in voice. She was a health nut, jogging several miles a day while doing yoga in the evening. She did these things almost to the point of obsession, as her husband, Carl, often complained about; hinting to me that Darcy liked exercising better than sex, which was putting a strain on their marriage. One couldn't argue with the results, however, as her body was well toned and without an ounce of fat. Moreover, unlike many other athletic women, who become flat chested and tend to develop little boy bodies, Darcy retained a shapely figure with full breasts and wide hips. Maybe that was the result of the yoga? Whatever the reason, I couldn't help getting hard imagining the demure Darcy going down on a gaudy Gabby, and vice-versa.

The Farzanehs, Sara and Rashid, were first-generation American, both of their parents having emigrated from Iran around the time the Ayatollah took control of their country. Sara was the true prize of the group I've invited, dark and exotically luscious, with long, raven colored hair, the darkest of dark gray eyes that were almost violet in certain light, and full, pouty lips. Like Denise, Sara had an unmistakable regal air about her. But unlike Denise, who probably grew into the aristocratic role because of her long association with the Jack, the boss, Sara came by hers naturally, as if she were high-born at birth. I always fancied she was part royalty, a deposed princess where her family was in some way connected to the Pahlavi royal family of Iran. I asked them about it once. They laughed good-naturedly at my question, saying they get asked that a lot, but that both came from humble origins. The fact that her stately nature was born by accident, made her even more attractive to me. So much so, that if there were any woman I would leave Karen for out of lust, it would be for Sara.

As for the other guests, there was Denise, of course, as well as Jackie and Cecilia.

I'd been playing extensively with Jackie and Cecilia over the past couple of weeks, so their invite wasn't hard, nor did I keep the true intention of the party a secret from them. Their response to the invitation was to ask if they needed to bring any toys, or more lube. I said yes to both.

Denise was another matter. About the time I changed direction in my life—shedding the chump persona for good—was about the time she tried to renew our acquaintance. Funny how those coincidences turn out. I, of course, gave her the cold shoulder, refusing to answer her calls throughout most of Karen's training. It wasn't until a few days before the party that I finally talked with her. I invited her to the motel along with Jackie, Cecilia, Lisa and Candice, but I don't think she had as good a time as the five of us, seeing how we did to Denise, what Lisa, Barbara and I did to Karen. In the end I forgave her—although I still hadn't fucked her—and told her of my upcoming plans. I left it up to her whether or not she'd be at the party on Saturday.

The Grants invitation, particularly Lisa and Barbara's, was troubling for me. So much so, I was actually reluctant to invite them at all. I began to regret what I had made the two do to each other that night. It was the regretful feeling a spouse has waking up with a hangover in a strange bedroom, lying next to a less than attractive partner and not remembering how you got there or even what you did the night before.

I hadn't completely divorced myself from the 'better angles of my nature,' and this was one I was still listening to—I should not have pushed mother and daughter into incest.

As such, when either of them called for a hook-up, I was more clandestine about it, telling either mother or daughter that our rendezvous should remain a secret from the other. Usually, if it was Barbara's turn, I paired her up with Jackie—who took an instant liking to the young one. Jackie particularly loved pushing her hungry mouth into Barb's cute little blonde bush and making her squeal in delight while I fucked the youngster doggy style. Moreover, given Lisa's large clit, Jackie always commented with a laugh that going down on Lisa was almost like going down on a guy.

Even with all her quirky idiosyncrasies, the ones that will forever drive me insane, I had truly come to love Jackie with all my heart—please don't tell Karen!

When it was Lisa's turn for motel fun, I would pair her up with Cecilia. Lisa's blonde hair turned out to be a surprisingly erotic contrast for me next to Cecilia's ebony tones, and not surprisingly, both turned out to be real anal sluts—at least at the start. They both cooled to the notion of taking my cock through the backdoor as I continued to grow. However, Lisa always wanted to renew that tongue flicking blowjob she performed on me, and renew it face to face with Cecilia, so that, at least, took the sting out of their refusal at anal sex.

So, even though I was tiptoeing around the incest problem, I felt that I couldn't just leave Bob and Lisa off the invite list. They were still our very good friends, and it would have hurt them both if they saw I had a party they weren't invited to. So when I told Lisa she and Bob were invited to a summer party, I stressed that it was for the older adults, and that Barbara should do something else that day.

Lisa whined incessantly when she heard my restrictions, saying that Barbara would be crestfallen if she couldn't come as well.

I didn't want to tell her what kind of party it was going to be, and maybe I should have. It would have spared me the grief of her whining now—and the disaster that almost happened later. I chose to keep mum about my plans, however, mostly because I thought people should start taking me at my word. I was getting tired of having to explain or justify my actions to everyone. Arrogant of me, I know, but that's where my feelings were lying at the moment. If Lisa didn't want to take my word that Barbara should stay home, then let her watch her daughter blow her father, right after taking him up the ass. It would serve her right.

Other invitees included Jack and his new bimbo, a Pam 'something or other,' who Jack met some time and somewhere in the city. He assured me she was blonde death in three-inch pumps, with a full rack you could rest your drink on, and a pair of long legs that started at an ass so fine and tight she needed grease to take a dump.

Jack always had a way with words.

I tried to contact Beth again, the auburn-haired girl from the coffee shop, but still no dice. So, I just substituted one large-chested redhead for another, and invited Candice, who had also became a regular along with Jackie and Cecilia in my after work fun sessions. I usually paired Candice with Jackie. There was nothing like the feel of two pairs of humongous tits pressed together while sliding your cock between them—literally, Heaven on Earth.

During that first week of Karen's training, I got a call from the Goth girl—whose name I finally learned was Holly. She asked about the party and asked if she could bring a friend. I told her yes, as long as her friend was female and reasonably attractive.

I know, I should have put more of a qualifier on it than just 'reasonably,' but, as you can tell, I've come to like living dangerously.

Just how dangerous? Well, the former Will Henry—the chump from my previous life—would never have even considered putting the wives and daughters I was fucking in the same room as their husbands and fathers. Realistically, it would have been safer for me to speed down the interstate blindfolded, but that's how confident—or arrogant—I was of my powers.

I could do anything to anyone; even turn the most jealous, possessive husband brimming with unabated machismo into a simpering cuckold, if I so desired. I was that Roman Emperor now, the one I pictured when first taking the elixir, holding dominion over all my subjects. And no one would dare refuse that Emperor, me, anything I wanted—not even a jealous husband—because I would destroy them.

As an aside, and contrary to how I thought Mark Cope would greet me, he was quite excited about the invitation, although I didn't tell him his ex-wife, Linda, would also be coming.

There I go with the puns again.

So there they were, all the lucky guests. Barring any changes in plans, I worked it so that there would be twice as many women as men.

I think that's a nice ratio, Henry, to be sure.

More inclined toward the harem, myself, I had invited the men to my little orgy to keep all the women well occupied and pleasured when I was otherwise indisposed with someone else. Naturally, the women were there for my pleasure and Karen's...

And now, all of them would be my slaves.

********

Though I told Karen she could go back to wearing clothes around the house, so attached had she become with our

new

relationship, she continued to go naked through the remaining days until the party.

On Saturday, however, I laid out an outfit that I wanted her to wear. It was a very sheer, off white, ankle length skirt. With it, I had her wear a matching bikini bra, and a similarly colored thong underneath. A bit risqué, I know. The transparency of the skirt left little to the imagination, but Karen always had a great ass, and I wanted her to show it off from the get-go. Besides, it appealed to Karen's newfound exhibitionist tendencies while maintaining a hint of modesty.

Her arousal began to ramp up the moment she put it on.

Such a dirty, naughty slut.

I wrapped my arms around her as she was admiring herself in the mirror, and asked, "Nervous? I know how you get before one of our parties."

She smiled and kissed me before answering, "No, surprisingly, although I'm wondering how you're going to get things rolling. Did you tell the others? You know, the ones we hadn't been with before. Did you tell them what this party is really about?"

"As to your second question my love, the answer is no. This is going to be a surprise for them just like it was for the others the last time; as for, 'how I'm going to get things rolling,' let me worry about that."

I still hadn't told her anything about the elixir, or the extent of my powers, but she was beginning to guess at both using small, tangential questions like the ones she just asked. As such, I decided that tonight I would start to teach her the extent of the powers we both possessed.

As for how I was going to get things rolling—other than with my mind—Karen had made two large pitchers of Sangria. I had already spiked each with a vial of elixir. They were chilling nicely in the refrigerator, waiting for the celebratory toast I'd give as a welcome to all our guests.

I pulled her to me and kissed her hard. She melted into my arms, returning my kiss with equal passion. The warm glow of anticipation was already radiating off her, but I could tell she had a firm control over it so far.

"I want you to stay close by my side this evening. All our guests are here for us to play with, but I don't want you playing with any of the men. Not until I say so. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered, quickly falling back into her submissive persona.

"Good. You can play with the women all you want, but don't wander off too far afield for too long without me. I think you'll find it more fun if we play with them together."

She smiled at that, and said with barely controlled excitement, "I'm looking forward to playing with Linda. She's ripe for the picking. I don't think she's been with a man since the divorce. It will be fun turning her into your cock slave, and watching her try to manage your tool."

"Really? Married to Mark, I would think she'd have lots of practice managing large tools."

She shook her head before answering, "I didn't realize it until that night with all of us that Mark wasn't very good. I always assumed Linda was the problem, and made excuses for herself by blaming Mark for their shitty sex play. But I was wrong, Mark is very 'wham-bam,' just like Linda said, and not even a 'thank you Ma'am' for your trouble. So, I don't think she's had much practice." A wry smile crossed her lips before she finished, "I think we should give her as much practice as possible."

"Well, go easy on Mark," I said, laughingly, "Like you said after that first time, I think we scared him a little. His performance should be better tonight."

She just shrugged her shoulders, and said matter-of-factly, "I don't care. Jackie can have him," she paused for a moment before continuing with a renewed interest in her voice, "But it will be fun seeing him turn green when you make Linda scream and cream."

"Any ideas on how I should do that?" I asked, rhetorically, curious for her answer.

"God, I would think doing that 'shifty-grindy' thing you do with your cock would be enough to get her squirting, but I have a few other ideas," she said with a devilish smile, "How far can we go?"

At first I thought it was an odd question, and then realized she was testing for boundaries, "As far as we like, as long as it doesn't descend into cruelty. What do you have in mind?"

"Please, let it be a surprise," she whined like a little girl.

"So, you've already given this a lot of thought?" She just smiled a response before I continued, "Okay, but remember we want everyone to walk away pleasured, satisfied and especially happy."

"Oh, they'll be all that and more."

********

The guests starting showing up at about five and my only concern was how the other women I'd been playing with these past weeks would treat Karen.

I never told them specifically, but all of them had a good guess as to what I was doing to Karen, given that she was never present during our motel romps. So, I wasn't sure if they would treat her rudely and as outcast from their clique—Jackie springs to mind—and I wasn't sure how Karen would accept them. Would she look at them with scorn, feeling cheapened by humiliation, getting sullen and refusing to converse with them, thus dampening the mood for the evening?

My apprehension was wasted effort. Karen proved to be the perfect host, cheery, generous, modest yet still self-assured in her place as my wife. Moreover, the other women treated Karen as a beloved sister who had left home for a time, but was back in the fold—the prodigal sister returned, as it were.

The only disharmony I could see was with Lisa. There was still animosity between her and Karen, and as such, they greeted each other coolly, with nary a word passing between them, and with barely a quick, polite brush of the cheeks passing between them before Lisa peeled away to opposite side of the room.

Lisa's husband, Bob, even noticed the chilly climate between the formerly good friends, when I overheard him mentioning it to Lisa. Lisa just shrugged it off, and in typical womanly fashion gave her husband mixed messages, saying that nothing was wrong but that she didn't want to talk about it further. After that, Bob just rolled his eyes and went over to where me the other men were talking, leaving Lisa and Barbara to themselves.

Jack arrived soon after the Grants, without Denise, but with a tall blonde attached to his arm.

I found this strange. Jack was a philanderer, to be sure, but as far as I knew, he didn't flaunt his conquests, particularly in front of his wife. I assumed, then, that Denise wasn't coming. I also assumed the clingy blonde was the 'Pam' he described to me.

She was cute, but not the 'blonde death in spiked heels' Jack made her out to be, at least I didn't think so. She didn't even have particularly large breasts—ones big enough to rest a drink on, as Jack implied. I was expecting a more sultry blonde like Pamela Anderson, complete with large tits, wide hips and full mouth, instead of a perky looking, all-American, 'Meg Ryan' type. She did have a great ass, though, one that Jack continually put his hand on, and not too discreetly, either.

Jack smiled as he saw me studying her ass, and said, "Easy you dog. This is Pamela Tobin, marketing director for the Scion Corporation. I've been trying to woo them in as clients for a couple of months now. Haven't I Pam?"

Pam gave Jack a look of mock surprise while saying, "Is that what you've been doing, Jack? All this time I thought you were just trying to get under my skirt."

Jack let go with one of his patented guffaws, and said, "That too, honey."

Pam warmly grabbed my hand with both of hers, "It's nice to finally meet you Will, or should I call you Robo-cock?"

"Yeah, I've...ah, been telling her all about your last party," Jack said with a tinge of embarrassment at not being able to keep secrets. Then dropping his voice, he added, "Don't worry, she's one of us."

I gave him a questioning look.

"You know, she's a swinger" he clarified, "Seems all this time I've been trying to...how did you put it, Pam?...get under your skirt, she's only interested in the out-of-the-ordinary. Isn't that right, Pam, you won't fuck unless there are others to join in?"

She smiled, and keeping her voice low, said, "If you're going to live, you might as well live large. There's nothing like a room full of hard cocks and wet cunts to get my juices flowing." She said that last part while taking a long, slow pass across my groin with her hand. Feeling what could either be a young, Amazonian python or my flaccid cock, she took a sharp breath of air in surprise, then looked at me as if she was going to drop to her knees and service me right there in the foyer.

Well there's a waste of elixir. This girl needed an aphrodisiac about as much as Bill Gates needed money.

She finally pulled her hand away from my crotch, saying to Jack, "Why is it that in all this time you're telling me about Robo-cock, you didn't mention he's built like a horse?

Jack looked surprised, "Will? A horse? I mean, Will's no peewee, but he's no horse, either."