Hostesses. Part I.

Chapter 1.  A Proposal.

But the thing was, he also sent her a text.  She showed it to me.  After the usual pleasantries, he wrote, “by the way, if you want to make a bit of cash in the holidays, get in touch.  I’ve got a new business starting up, and we need a few girls to get it off the ground.  Nothing dodgy, Pen.  If you want to talk about it, we could go for lunch one day.  Bring a friend or two if you like.”

So that was it.  Of course, we had to follow up.  Maddy thought it might be modelling.  I thought it might be “modelling” too!  Pen said he didn’t seem like that.  So we reserved judgement.

We met for lunch in a good Italian pizza restaurant.  I was quite surprised by Ralph Denham.  Younger than I had imagined – Pen’s mum was about forty – and quite good-looking.  Longish fair hair, very pale blue eyes, slim, well-dressed.  He seemed slightly vague, as if he were constantly thinking about something else.  But to get to the point.  His proposal.  I must admit, when he said the word “hostesses”, we exchanged knowing glances.  But it all sounded so innocent, the way he described it.  “Hospitality”, he said.  He organised parties, “all occasions, the partygoers needed waiting on and looking after…pretty girls…meet interesting people…just give it a try…very tightly controlled…well-paid…”

“What do you mean by “well-paid”, Uncle Ralph, asked Pen.

“Oh, you’d work five-hour shifts, for which we’d pay you…let me see…give you a precise figure…”  He took out his phone.  “Ah, yes.  Here we are.  Forty pounds.”

“Forty quid?  For five hours?” sneered Maddy.  “You must be joking!”

“Oh, no dear, I mean forty an hour, of course.  In cash.  It would be up to you to declare it if you think proper.  We don’t keep records, you see.  Not yet.”

We stared at him, speechless.

“Two hundred?  For five hours work?” queried Pen, disbelievingly.

“Yes.  People pay very well to be entertained, you know.  Anyway…you can think about it.”

“I’d fucking break rocks for five hours for that sort of loot,” whispered Maddy in my ear.

“You’ll get uniforms, of course.”

“What, like air hostesses?”  Pen laughed.  “What sort of uniforms?”

“Well, they’re not finalised.  If you’d like to come along to our offices later this week, my PA will explain everything, and if you decide to sign up, we’ll get you measured and briefed.”

“We’ll do it!” said Pen.  “Won’t we girls?”

Maddy and I immediately concurred.  For that sort of money…?

So it was that the following Thursday morning we turned up at Ralph’s offices. We had argued about what to wear, but in the end decided we should simply wear our school uniforms – probably for the last time – to impress them with what good, studious, well-behaved young ladies we were.  The receptionist showed us into the main room, a large, open-plan office, with women working away at computers.  A statuesque brunette with a white blouse, black pencil skirt, bright red lipstick and a tightly pinned bun was waiting to receive us.

“Good morning, girls.  Mister Denham told me to expect you.  I’m Clarissa Desborough, his PA.  You are…?”

We introduced ourselves.  Clarissa was attractive in a way, I suppose, but she had a permanent half-smile on her face, with just a hint of superciliousness.

“Follow me, please.”

She led us to a side door, and into a large, brightly-lit, dressing room, filled with racks of clothes and with dressing-table around the walls.

“Now, let’s get you measured up.  Linda, darling, the girls are here!”

Measured up for what we didn’t know, but there was something about Clarissa that discouraged questions.  Linda was a shortish young lady with a permanently worried look on her face.  She measured us comprehensively, and with professional efficiency.  She measured everything, and with such minute attention to detail we began to wonder what sort of uniform it could be.  She even measured our heads and feet!  “We like to have a complete record,” said Clarissa, by way of explanation.  Then she excused herself and disappeared back into the main office.  I took the opportunity to speak to Linda.

“Linda.  Hi.  Do you know what we’re actually being measured for?”

As soon as she had finished, Clarissa returned.

“Thank you Linda.  Put those on file, please.  One final thing – I’d like each of you to walk up and down a few times.  I consider deportment just as important as clothes.  Follow me, if you would.”

She led us into an adjacent room, fitted out as a photographer’s studio, with scenery of woods and stuff and a sort of catwalk.  We each had to walk gracefully up and down several times, while she videoed us.

“Thank you, girls.  I and my associates will evaluate all the data we have collected, and give you our decision in due course.  I apologise, but I will have to ask you to leave now.  I have to go into a meeting.  Are your free to come back at ten Monday morning?  If you are deemed suitable candidates – which from what I’ve seen is a strong possibility – we should be able to proceed to a fitting of some preliminary outfits.  And Mister Denham asked me to inform you that you may be required that evening, so if you could leave the day free?  Thank you so much.”  With which instruction, she ushered us out, not much the wiser about the nature of the job than when we had gone in.

Chapter 2.  Suited and Booted.

We speculated wildly all the weekend, but there were no facts to work on.  Ralph was silent, not responding to Pen’s texts.  Nevertheless we presented ourselves back at the offices at ten sharp that Monday.  Again, no Ralph, and only the taciturn Clarissa to whom to address our questions, which she eluded with practised dexterity.  She led us to a small side office where a secretary presented us with contracts to sign.  We were a little reluctant to commit ourselves without knowing what we were committing ourselves to, but the documents seemed innocent enough – details of pay, a guarantee of at least ten hours pay a week – “that’s four hundred quid!” whispered Pen – in return for which we undertook to work when required, to obey instructions, to wear whatever uniforms we were allocated, to give at least two weeks’ notice, and so on.  We didn’t read all the small print, to be honest, but as it was clear this was a sine qua non, we went ahead and signed.  Then Clarissa led us straight to the dressing room and left us.  After a few moments, Linda emerged from a side room, carrying three large cloth bags on draw-strings, one pink, one yellow, one blue, each embroidered with an initial: on the pink one, an L, on the yellow one, an M, and on the blue one, a P. 

“There all marked.  You can change in here.”  Linda opened another side door, and showed us into a plain room with full-length mirrors and a few chairs, with a toilet door at one side.  “Give me a shout when you’re done, and I’ll come and check you.”

We let her close the door, then eagerly opened our bags.  Penelope gasped.  Maddy released a burst of nervous laughter.  I just gaped.  In my bag there were four things, all pink.  One, panties; two, gloves; three, boots; and four…a catsuit.  Each item made of smooth, glossy latex!  We were individually colour-coded.  The colours seem to suit our natural colouring.  I was dark, Maddy a red-head, and Pen blonde.  We stared at each other, not quite knowing how to react.

“We can’t wear these,” Pen cried.  Too sexy.  Way too sexy!”

“They are sexy, all right,” said Maddy, “but feel the quality of the latex.  Can you imagine what they must have cost?  And they’ve been made to measure, too.”

“What sort of party…?” I began.  “I’m going to get some answers.”  I went to the door and turned the handle.  The door was locked!  I banged on it, shouting, “hello?  Let us out, please?”

The icy tones of Clarissa silenced me.

“Stop that.  You’re not coming out until you have changed.  You’re under contract now.  Just get on with it and think yourselves lucky.  And use the toilet before you dress.  Those outfits are sealed.”

I was fuming, but Maddy was already undressing.

“Come on Lettie, let’s just do it.  I want to see how sexy I look in this get-up!”

So we used the toilet, and began to dress.  The panties were very fine, semi-transparent.  The catsuit was made of heavy, high-quality latex.  The seams were finely welded, almost invisible; though I noticed in passing that the seam which ran from the waist through the crotch and back again on the inside was sort of tubular.  I thought nothing of it at the time.  It had a long zip up the back, with a very high collar, with three welded loops like belt-loops, and secured by two large steel press-studs.  It even had shaped feet!  I shivered slightly as I stepped into the legs, the rubber was so smooth and cool.  It fitted me like a second skin.  I don’t have large breasts, but the cups had been cleverly shaped to accentuate them, moulded so that the heavy latex compressed them into firm pointed cones, causing the nipples to distend and jut out.  The effect was enhanced by the thinning of the latex at the points of the breasts, where it became fine and flexible, almost translucent.  We had zipped each other up, not without some effort.  The pull on the zip was pierced, and designed to be held in place by the big press-studs.  They took some pressure to close, and each one snapped together with a sound like a pistol shot, securing both the collar and the zip. 

The boots were half-calf length, lined, just like riding boots, but much shinier.  Again, we found they fitted perfectly, close about the calf and ankle without being tight.  Finally, we pulled on our gloves, which came high on the wrist.  Once we are all firmly encased, I stole a look at my friends, and flushed slightly at the sight of their gleaming, tightly-sheathed bodies, and especially their engorged nipples, thrusting forward as if demanding attention.  That Clarissa certainly had an eye for detail!

“It feels so…exciting!” grinned Pen.  “I feel…I don’t know…invulnerable!”

“I feel like a robot,” I said.

“You look like a big rubber doll!” laughed Maddy. Her gaze dropped to my breasts.  “A sex doll,” she murmured, thoughtfully.  She turned to the door.  “All right, Clarissa.  We’re changed.  Now let us out, please.”

A key turned in the lock, and we filed out.  Clarissa was standing watching us, arms folded, a smug expression of her face.  I think suddenly we all felt like schoolgirls in front of the head teacher, because we actually lined up against the wall, as if for inspection.

Clarissa nodded with satisfaction.  “Good.  Very good.  Have you seen yourselves?  Of course you have.  You look very beautiful – you all have wonderful figures – and very, very formidable.”

“Formidable?” queried Maddy.

“Formidable, Maddy.  That’s the idea, you see.  You’re going to be hostesses at parties.  These parties can get…well, not out of hand – we wouldn’t allow that – but, shall we say, a little wild?  The women as well as the men.  These outfits…well, they post a warning – don’t mess with us.”

Yes, I thought, but they also post an invitation – feast your eyes on us, lust after us, imagine what it would feel like….  Even, please fondle our breasts!  But I didn’t say any of this.  There was something in what she said, I supposed.  And there seemed to be no going back.  I looked at my friends.  Maddy was enjoying the feeling, I could see.  She was always the boldest of us.  Pen was flushed.  She was quite a shy girl.  This was not something she would wear in her wildest dreams.  Maybe that’s why she also looked excited.

Linda was going around us, checking the fit.

“I think they’re as near perfect as they can be, Miss Clarissa,” she murmured.  “Miss” Clarissa!  Well, well.  That seemed perfectly appropriate.  Clarissa must have registered by thoughts.

“Yes, Letitia.  I’m normally addressed as “miss”, in recognition of the fact that I am in charge here – in charge of the project, in charge of the organisation, in charge of the remuneration – in charge of the personnel.  She waited.

“Yes, miss,” I found myself responding.  A gratified smile appeared on her lips.

“Before we proceed, we should record your appearance once again.  Please step into the studio, girls.”

We went through the same routine, catwalking while Clarissa filmed us, but this time with a bit more swank.  Sure, we had never worn anything like this before, and the outfits seemed to give us confidence.

“Good.  Very good.”  She packed up her camera.  “Now, to business.  You have an early engagement today.  A wedding reception.  It starts at twelve.  I will drive you, and supervise you.  It will last at least four hours, possibly five.  You will then be paid, and dismissed.  All you will be required to do is to serve drinks, be courteous, and make yourselves agreeable.  Follow me.  Linda?  Have you got…?”

“The hoods miss.  Here they are.”  She handed Clarissa a leather satchel.

Hoods?  We gave each other nervous looks, but none of us was brave enough to say a word.  She led us out of a back door, to where a black limousine with darkened windows was parked.  We took our places in the spacious seats, Clarissa started the engine, and soon we were speeding away towards an unknown destination.  

Chapter 3.  The First Assignment.

The journey took less than half an hour.  We arrived at a big country hotel. 

“Let’s go, girls,” said Clarissa, grabbing the satchel.  She jumped out and opened our door.  We trooped after her into the main entrance, feeling rather self-conscious.  In the lobby she made for reception, leaving us standing in the middle of the floor.  There were few people around – maybe a dozen, a mixture of staff and guests – but to a man – and woman – they stopped in their tracks and stared.  We fidgeted uncomfortably.  Pen blushed.  But she was back again in a moment.

“This way.”

We followed like children as she led us through a pair of double doors opposite reception and into a beautiful ballroom, with long polished tables arranged around the sides.  There were a handful of girls, a couple of whom I recognised from the office, arranging flowers, moving tables, and laying places.  On the main table at the head of the room there was a three-tiered wedding cake.  The girls stopped their preparations to stare at us.  One or two giggled and exchanged whispers.

“Get on, please.”  Clarissa’s voice sliced through the hush.  “Attend to your tasks.”  The girls got back to work at once.  She checked her watch.  “The guests will be here in less than an hour.  Let’s get you ready.”  She led us into a side room, and closed the door behind us.  She looked at us, then looked into the bag.  “No, this isn’t going to work.  Your hair’s too long.  All of you.  We’ll have to forego the hoods today.   Tomorrow we’ll get your hair cut short.”

“But Clarissa - miss, I mean – I don’t want to get my hair cut!” protested Maddy.  “I like it just how it is.”

I mumbled my concurrence.  Clarissa’s compressed her lips.

“Well, my dear, if you had read the contract you signed this very morning, you would have seen that we have total control over your appearance – your dress, your makeup, and your hair.  There is a considerable financial penalty for non-compliance.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  Moreover, girls, you will be receiving the very best styling.  You’ll be going to Mason’s” – Mason’s was just about the poshest stylist in the county, and very expensive – “and we employ only the top makeup artists.”  There was a polite knock at the door.  “And if I’m not mistaken…”  She opened the door.  “Jenny!  Hello, darling!  Yes, here she is.  She’ll be responsible for your makeup from now on.  So I’ll leave you here in her capable hands, if I may, and I’ll see you in half an hour or so.”  With which she left, closing the door firmly behind her, as a final reminder of her absolute authority.

I have to admit that the idea of having my hair done at Mason’s was outweighing any reservations I may have felt.  In any case, I’d always wanted a cute, chic haircut, instead of the slightly frumpy sixth-form mediocrity I’d been used to.  I think all the attention we’d already received was making all of us rethink our priorities.  Even Maddy’s frown of rebelliousness had been replaced by a quiet smile.

“Good morning, girls,” Jenny greeted us.  “Now I’m sorry this will have to be so hurried, but the booking was all a bit last minute, as I expect you know.”  We sort of gathered that.  “So please, if one of you could sit at the dressing-table?  You maybe?”  She indicated Pen.  “Thank you.  Now, let’s see…”

Jenny had a big case and got to work right away, wiping Pen’s face, using foundation, and applying lipstick, blusher, eye shadow and mascara.  She did a quick styling job on her hair, a few sprays of lacquer, and finished off with a couple of dabs of perfume just above Pen’s collar.  She was good, all right.  It seemed to me she used colours I hadn’t ever seen before.  She matched the exact shade of blue of Pen’s catsuit for her eye shadow, and used a pale mauve lip gloss.  And as she worked, she talked.

“Now girls, as I said, I’m going to be your personal makeup guy for the duration of your contract.  We’ll get to know each other quite well, I think.  You’re all very pretty, I must say – which makes my job all the easier.  I gather from Clarissa that these are going to be your primary costumes, and I’ll also be responsible for keeping them smart.  So before each assignment expect a bit of polishing or adjustment.  And I believe there is likely to be some, er, design modifications, which you will be made aware of at the appropriate time.  The key to being a successful hostess, however, is nothing to do with these external appearances, but everything to do with how you feel in yourselves.  Confidence – that’s the key.  Always remember that.”  She stood back.  “There dear, you’re done.  Next!”

Maddy got yellow eye shadow and red lip gloss.  I got pink of both.  By ten to twelve she was finished.  She packed her case, and headed for the door. 

“Sorry it’s been such a rush.  When I next see you, we’ll have more time, and we can get properly introduced.  Remember – confidence!”  And she swept out.

We were left standing there dazed with the speed of events.  We had no time to recover, however, because Clarissa returned to inspect us.  She arranged us in line.

“Very nice.  Very nice indeed, girls.  I can tell you’re going to make wonderful hostesses.  In this business you see a lot of wannabes, but I really think you three have got something special.” 

We positively swelled with pride.  Praise from Clarissa must have been a rare honour.  It was very clever of her, I realised in retrospect, to play this game.  It gave an immediate boost to our confidence, but also, it made us more likely to comply with future demands and developments.  And things developed, all right.

She ushered us out.  On a nearby table were three little trays, one pink, one yellow, one blue, with matching attachments.  She called us forward one by one.  I went first.  The tray was only seven or eight inches deep, and recessed.  One side was concave and fitted with straps.  Clarissa made me hold it to my waist, while she went behind me and buckled the straps up at the back.  There were two little rings at the leading corners, and to these she clipped a silver chain, which passed behind my neck, and held the tray level.

“There, Letitia.  Now the idea is to use the tray to collect used glasses, and take them to the kitchen hatchway at the end of the hall.  There are baskets there to receive them.  Just take your time and place them in carefully.  You will also be serving the wines.  You will be serving the red, Penelope the white, and Madison the champagne.  That’s all you have to do today – that, and smile, of course.  You should be both useful and decorative.”

The wedding reception was great!  There must have been over a hundred guests.  The bride was very pretty and the groom, who came and thanked us personally afterwards – and gave us a sizeable tip – was such a nice guy.  We found ourselves the centre of attention.  At first it made me nervous, feeling eyes on me wherever I was.  People were taking photos, and Clarissa was filming us again – for her records, I suppose.  In fact, she filmed us, or got someone else to film us, at all those early events.  But after a while I began to enjoy the attention, and the admiring glances.  And the guests all wanted to chat.  And the end I had a stiff neck from bending over to talk to them.  I think we made quite an impression, especially on the male guests.  One little boy of about twelve stared at us unblinking for the duration of the reception!  And at one point a rather posh middle-aged lady came up and  put her hand on my arm.

“Darling, you all look wonderful.  What a good idea to spice up the event a little.  I’ve been to lots of weddings, but I have never seen waitresses in such…well, sexy costumes.  My husband is beside himself, poor thing.  He would like…well, never mind what he would like.  But I think I may be receiving some rubber gear of my own in the not too distant future.”

“Oh, th-thank you,” I stammered.  “This is our very first event.  We were quite nervous, but everyone’s been so nice…”

“It won’t be your last.  I’m going to get the contact details from that…that boss lady of yours, and recommend you to all my friends.  Take it from me, darling, you’re going to be busy...very busy…”

After the meal, a dance band came in, and everyone migrated to the dance floor.  We stood aside, but continued to fill and top up glasses.  I looked at my friends.  They were both glowing with excitement.  Clarissa passed by.

“Well done, girls.  I’ve spoken to Mister Denham, and he’s agreed you should have a bonus of an extra hour’s pay each.  And I see you’ve had a few tips, too.  You’ll finish at five, and you can change and go straight home.  But be in at ten tomorrow.  We need to have a de-brief, and your Mason’s appointment is booked for eleven thirty.”

We left that evening with over three hundred pounds each in our pockets!  We could hardly believe our luck.  We went for a little celebration of our own.

“She’s not so bad, that Clarissa, is she?” said Pen.

“When you get to know her,” I added.  “At first, I thought…”

“She was a bitch?” put in Maddy.  “Yeah, so did I.  But I’m reserving judgement.  Anyway, there’s nowhere else we could earn this sort of dough.  I’m not telling my boyfriend a thing.  He knows I’m in “hospitality”, that’s all.  And that’s how it’s staying.  If it carries on like this, I might even be able to buy myself a car in a few weeks.  Imagine!”

“I’m giving most of mine to my mum,” said Pen.  “She’s been having a really tough time, what with her debts, the rent, and the kids…  I’ve even considered putting off uni for a year…”

“Pen, no!” I cried.

“Why not?  I think it’s better to get some experience of real life before you go back with all those fucking little swots like Alison Peters and them…”

“It’s an idea…” said Maddy, thoughtfully.  “Just think…if it went on like this…”

“Yeah, I suppose…” I said.  “But we’ve only done one gig so far.  Let’s give it a few weeks, and see how things are then.”

Chapter 4.  Makeover.

I think we all slept well that night.  We met up at half nine and were at the office before ten.  Clarissa was waiting in the dressing-room, as fresh and brisk as ever.

“Mister Denham’s very pleased with you.  It looks as though your performance yesterday will generate lots more business for us.  So well done, all of you.”  She smiled in a way she had - her eyes narrowed a little, but her lips hardly curved.  We came to recognise that expression as a harbinger of trouble.

“If there’s any little criticism I could make…well, it’s a minor thing, but it’s always better to get these little glitches ironed out at once, don’t you agree?  Deportment.”

“Deportment?” I repeated.

“Yes, dear.  Deportment.  Posture, if you like.  There was a lot of chatting to the guests, I noticed.  This should be kept to a minimum, and of course, you should never, never start a conversation.  Respond, of course.  But otherwise maintain a chaste silence.  Remember you are servants, not equals.  Besides which, all that leaning over…it spoils your posture.  You need to be seen to be separate from the guests.  They can relax, you cannot.  Think of yourselves as decorative robots, simply supplying their needs with the greatest efficiency and disinterestedness imaginable.”

“But we’re not…” began Maddy.

“Hush, Maddy!  Don’t interrupt.  Listen, and learn.  You will behave as I direct, or you may leave.”

“Sorry, Miss Clarissa.”

“Good.  Shortly you will be taken to Mason’s.  Before we leave, however, Linda will take a few more measurements.”  She turned.  “Linda?  The girls are ready.  Now girls, stand quite straight, chins up, look straight ahead.  That’s right.”

Linda hurried over with her tape.  Clarissa turned and went back into the main office.  I guess we were all wondering what was going on.  We soon found out.  Linda had to stand on a little stool to do her work.  She measured our necks!  Our necks, at the base and under the chin, and the length of our necks too, back and front.

“Collars!” said Maddy.  “It’s collars isn’t it, Linda?”

“I dunno, miss,” relied Linda, unconvincingly.  “I just does what I’m told.”

This development was slightly unnerving.  But we had no time to discuss it.  The measuring done, Clarissa reappeared, and in a few minutes we were back in the limo, heading for Mason’s.

I have to hand it to Clarissa, she didn’t do anything by halves.  Not only did we get our hair done, and the full facial treatment, we had manicures, pedicures and massages as well.  We didn’t get out till nearly three in the afternoon.  But we felt like a million dollars.  Pen looked really cute with short hair.  Because she was blonde it couldn’t be too short, and somehow they’d managed to retain a slightly edgy, sophisticated look.  Maddy’s reddy bronze hair was short – cropped – making her look dangerous, as well as lesbian.  But I didn’t tell her that.  My cut was smoother, and neatly shaped.  It felt strange – cool in both senses – but they say change your hair, change your life, and that was exactly what I felt was happening.  Anyway, the main thing, of course, Clarissa was highly delighted with the results, and was all satisfied smiles all the way back.  She even stroked Maddy’s head a couple of times, enjoying the velvety feel of the cropped hairs, and looking at her in a way which…well, made me wonder a bit.

We entered the main office, all the staff giving us the once over.  A girl gave Clarissa a sheet of paper.

“Oh, girls.  You’ll be pleased to know you have another engagement.  Thursday evening, seven till twelve.  Please be here by five.”

“Miss?  Is it another wedding reception, or…”

“Er, no, I think not, Letitia….It’s a club.  Run by a friend of mine, actually.  I suggested she take a look at you.  But I’m sure you’ll be ready for anything.”

As we made our way out, we speculated on the venue.

“Night club, do you think?” asked Pen.

“Bit early for that, isn’t it?” I said.

“As long as it’s not some awful men’s club,” frowned Maddy.

“Well, we’ll soon find out.”

Chapter 5.  A Few Slight Modifications.

I spent a few pounds of my money on clothes, gave some to my younger brother Mark, and put the rest away.  I suppose I was a very prudent, conventional young lady in those days.  That was why the job was so incredibly exciting.  Quite apart from the pay, I got to look really sexy without the responsibility, if you know what I mean.  I was insulated – literally – from predatory advances.  I could show off, titillate them even, all the while hiding behind my job – my ‘duties’, and the strict controls enforced by Clarissa.  Another example of her cleverness; by making us feel we were a highly-trained, well-disciplined team, acting under a confident and experienced leader in total control of events, she could get us to do pretty much anything she wanted without question.

The first thing she wanted, that Thursday afternoon, was to make a couple of modifications to our outfits.  We collected our uniforms from our lockers, and headed for the changing room.

“Don’t bother to button up your collars today, girls,” Clarissa called, just as we were closing the door.  I look at the others and shrugged.  “Okay, miss.”

“So today, girls, now your hair is sorted out, you’ll get to wear your hoods.  You’re going to love them.”  The cloth bag was on the worktop.  She pulled them out and placed them in front of us.  The colours matched our suits, of course. Though made of thick rubber, they looked like weird deflated balloons.

“Here, let me help you.  Penelope?”

Pen looked doubtful, but Clarissa picked up the blue hood, shook it open, and, stretching it out, placed over the crown of her head.  It made that characteristic rippling sound as Clarissa began to work it down, pushing Pen’s ears up inside.

“Ow, miss…” 

“Keep still, Penelope.  It won’t hurt you.  The rubber’s so smooth….”

Clarissa gave it a final yank, and it snapped into place.  It couldn’t have fitted more perfectly if it had been moulded to her head.  The oval face opening was only just large enough to frame her features, skirting her eyebrows and almost touching her lower lip.  Her face was a picture!  She was frowning and pouting with shyness.  Clarissa was getting impatient.

“Goodness, girl!  What’s the matter?  Smile!  You can’t go to a party with that sour expression on your face.”

“It feels funny, miss…  And I can’t hear!”

“I’m going to attend to that.  Stand still and let me fix the neck.”

The hood had a long neckpiece, which Clarissa rolled down as far as it would go.  Then she zipped up the last bit of the catsuit zip, closing the collar over the neck of the hood, folded the zip-pull into position, and snapped the press-studs firmly in place.  She stood back to admire the result.

“What do you think, girls?”

“Pretty cool,” said Maddy.  Then added, “and pretty sexy, in a weird way.”

She was right.  Apart from her little sulky face, Pen was encased entirely in smooth, gleaming pastel blue latex.  It sent a shiver through me.  God knows what the men would make of it.  What was Clarissa getting us into?  But even then she wasn’t finished.

“Linda?  Bring the posture collars, would you, there’s a dear?”

Pen turned towards Linda.  She brought over three extremely high collars, and handed them to Clarissa.  Even the leather was coloured to match our suits.  Each collar had a row of three silver buckles on straps at the back, and a silver ring at the front.  Clarissa selected the blue one.  I could see the leather was heavy and stiff, and the front of the collar dipped down so that it would sit on the collarbone.

“Chin up, Penelope!  Higher.  Good…”

She held the collar in place, reached round, and did up one of the straps.  Then she turned Pen round and buckled the other two.  The front of the collar curved under her chin, preventing her lowering her head.

“It’s too tight, miss,” complained Pen, beginning to panic.

“Nonsense!  It’ll keep your head up where it should be.  Deportment, Penelope.  Remember?  Get used to it.”

“I can’t hear you!  This hood…”  Pen held one hand up to her ear.  It was only then I noticed a convexity in the side of the hood.  An oval mound right where Pen’s ear would be.

“Don’t fuss.  The hood has ear pads.  You won’t be able to hear until I remove the plugs.. Just a minute.”  She went and rummaged in a drawer.  I looked more closely at the side of the hood.  In the very centre on the ear pad there was a little plug, about a quarter of an inch across, with a slot in it.  But there was something else.  Immediately behind the earpad was what looked like a flat belt-loop, welded to the rubber.  And there was another just below it.

Clarissa returned with a thing like a plastic screwdriver.  She inserted the end in the slot, turned it, and the plug sprang out.  She pulled it right out, and did the same to the other side of Pen’s head.

“There.  Better now?”

“Yes, thank you, miss…  Miss?  What are they for?”

“They’re for times when it’s better you don’t hear what people are saying.  Some guests want assurance that they can have a private conversation without the waitress overhearing.  That’s all.”

“I see…”

“And Miss Clarissa,” I said, “what are those loops for?”

She gave me a wry smile.  “Enough questions for now, Letitia.  We need to get you ready.  Put on your hoods, please.  I’ll help you with the collars.”

When we were all tightly hooded and collared, Clarissa brought us some matching belts, made of very soft, pliable leather, each with a plastic fastening, and a little purse attached.

“I thought these would look nice, and now you’ll have somewhere to keep your earplugs, or anything else you may need – a tissue, or a lipstick, or whatever.”  She buckled them on us.  “Now, how do you feel?”

We murmured something agreeable – we wouldn’t have dared complain – but for myself, it felt very strange having my head forced erect like that, and my neck constricted.  In the suit alone, I had felt comfortable - even liberated.  Now I felt the opposite: restrained, controlled, almost…in bondage!  I felt a little nervous, to be honest.  Vulnerable.  But also…I almost didn’t like to admit it…aroused!  The whole dynamic of the outfit had changed.  Whereas before the suit had seemed comforting, flexible and protective, now it clasped my body in a sensual, almost lascivious way. The effect of the close-fitting hood and the constraining collar was to bring home to me the true function of my outfit: to entice and arouse, to dangle me as bait.  The collar in particular, while it pushed my chin back, it tended to make me thrust my breasts forward.  I looked own at my nipples, pointed and engorged.  I had been right.  It was more an invitation than a defence.

I looked at the others.  Maddy seemed to be relishing the sensation of her modified costume, but Pen was obviously still uncertain.  I decided to walk around a bit, and see how it all felt, and then I discovered something else.  The belt had had the effect of pulling the tubular internal crotch seam tight up into my pussy.  I felt in slip in between the central furrow, and as I walked, it flipped softly back and forth against my clitoris, generating waves of pleasure.  Oh my god!  I was in a panic, wondering how I could possibly cope with five hours of that!  I even considered telling Clarissa I was feeling unwell, but one glance at her told me she wouldn’t wear it.  In any case, the chance had gone, because the next moment we were being ushered outside and into the limo.

Chapter 6.  The Club.

As we were driven away, Clarissa at last deigned to enlighten us as to our destination.  It was a party – yes, we guessed; a “special” party – well aren’t they all?  We may find it more “challenging” than the wedding reception.  Get to the point, I was thinking.  The club was called “The Pit”.  It was in a cellar.  Sounded promising.  It would be rather dark, so we would be equipped with LED necklaces and wristbands so the guests would know where we in the gloom.  Great, I thought.  Personally, I wouldn’t mind if I were totally invisible.  And what sort of club was it, asked Maddy.

“Wait and see, Madison.  I think you’ll fit right in…”

It was a sunny day, but as soon as we stepped through the door of the club we were plunged into pitch darkness.  As we became accustomed to the gloom, we saw a row of red wall lights leading downwards.  We made our way gingerly down the steps, Clarissa leading.  We walked along a red-lit corridor.  We could hear a hubbub of voices.  A woman appeared and greeted Clarissa.  They had a whispered conversation, during which the woman looked us up and down, then smile and nodded approvingly.  Clarissa stood aside, and the woman led us into a cavernous room.  The ceiling, if there was one, was invisible to us.  There were red lights around the walls, and tables with little nightlights burning in dishes. Seated at the table were the members – I would say at least sixty or seventy.  The room had a tiled floor, and the central area, which was empty of tables, was lit by spotlights high on the walls.  In the middle was a piece of equipment made of wood and covered with red leather, like a miniature vaulting horse, with ring plates screwed to its sides, and two sets of red straps hanging down each side of the padded top.  The top itself was shaped so that at one end the sides curled up to form a valley.  The possibilities of such a piece of equipment were not lost on me.  A microphone hung from the darkness, about eight feet above the floor.  The woman was already leading us to a corner where there was a counter, a hatchway and a few traditionally-dressed waitresses in attendance, ferrying plates of food out to the guests.

“I’m Ilse,” she whispered.  “Thank you for coming.  Now, all you have to do is to fill glasses with whatever wine our guests request.  They’ve all paid for as much as they can drink, so there’s no need to skimp.  The normal waitresses will collect glasses and distribute clean ones.   You’re here to add atmosphere, as much as anything.  You don’t have to smile, you don’t have to interact in any way.  In fact, it’s better you don’t.  In any case, I don’t suppose they’ll be paying much attention to you.  Which is a pity,” she added peering at us, “since you look pretty amazing.”  She picked up the glowing necklaces and wrist bands from the counter and helped us on with them.  “Right.  Off you go.  And try not to get distracted.  If you want to watch the performance you can do so later – all our events are professionally filmed.  Just focus on your jobs.”

“What did she mean by that?” asked Pen, as we collected our bottles.

“Dunno,” I said.  But I already had my suspicions.

There were lots of glasses to be filled.  We were kept busy.  It was warm work, and my catsuit exuded the sickly scent of latex.  That internal seam tormented by clit unrelentingly.  Once, in the darkness, I ventured to touch myself.  I actually groaned out loud, making a woman nearby stare at me.  I could have cum quite easily had I dared.  But I had to keep my cool.

Some hope.  The show was about to start.  Ilse made an announcement, the usual stuff about thanking the members for their support and hoping they enjoyed the entertainment.  And inviting their participation, whatever that meant.  There was a lull in demand for drinks, and an expectant hush descended.  I made my way to a side wall, where Pen and Maddy were standing. 

“You two all right?”

“I’ve never been so horny,” groaned Maddy.  “This suit…”

“I know!  Me too.  Pen?  How are you?”

She nodded, embarrassed.  “Same.”

At that moment, a little group appeared from the darkness; two young women uniformly attired in crisp white shirts with black bow-ties, cream riding breeches, rubber riding boots, and short black rubber gloves, one of them, a blonde, with a backpack - dragging between them another – a girl, slight and short-haired, in a white blouse and plaid mini-skirt, white socks and trainers.  She had black leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles, a broad black studded collar around her neck, from which two straps went up the sides of her head and connected to another which ran around her head just above her eyes.  She was protesting loudly.

“No!  I won’t!  Leave me be, you bitches!  I’ll report you, and…”

“And what, Poppy dear?” asked the blonde’s colleague, a slim brunette.  “We’ll deny everything.  It’ll be two against one.  You’ll be the one who gets the cane.”

The microphone caught their voices, and broadcast them from speakers attached to the walls.

They arrived at the ‘vaulting horse’.

“No!  Stop it!  What are you doing?”

“She’s for it now,” whispered a woman sitting just in front of us, to her friend.  “Wait and see.”

“You need a lesson you won’t forget, missy,” cried blondie.  “In future, do what you’re told, and don’t be cheeky.”

They pulled her face down, struggling and shouting, along the horse.  She fought them all the way, but while one of them held her down, the other pulled one of her wrists down the side of the horse and clipped it to a ring.  Then she did the same with the other side, and finally they clipped her ankle cuffs to the rear bottom corners, so that her legs were slightly apart.  Her bottom stuck out at the plain end of the horse, while at the other, her face was held firmly in the valley.  Her little skirt had ridden up, revealing her wriggling bottom, contained within a pair of taut pink Barbie panties!

Pen gasped, and Maddy drew a deep breath, and shifted her position slightly, crossing her legs.

Poppy was still yelling and swearing.  Brunette drew a riding whip from the side of her boot, and gave her a cut across the backs of her thighs.

“Ouch!  Fuck you, you ugly slag.  You’d better watch out.  You’re gonna regret this!”

Her mistresses exchanged glances.  The backpack was dumped on the ground, and while brunette buckled the broader of the two straps tightly over the small of her back, blondie rummaged in a side pocket and pulled out what even I recognised as a ball-gag on a strap – a red rubber ball on a black leather strap.  To make her open her mouth she squeezed her cheeks quite roughly, and forced the ball between her teeth.  It was large enough to silence her almost completely.  She held it there while the other buckled the ends to the cheek-straps.  Having dealt with the unfortunate girl to their satisfaction, they stood back to admire their work.

“Mmmm!    Mmmff!” said Poppy.

“What did she say?”

“Not sure.  Maybe she wants her butt-plug.”

At this, Poppy stopped whining and shook her head vigorously.  But to no avail.

“That must be it.”

The blonde pulled a black conical plug from the bag and began to coat it with some sort of clear lube.  When she was done, the brunette hooked one finger in the top of Poppy’s panties and drew the waistband down just far enough to allow the other to place the tip of the plug between her cheeks.  She stiffened, and squeezed her buttocks together, but the lubricated shaft slid home easily, eliciting a squeak of dismay from its recipient.  Brunette snapped the panties back into place, and arranged them fussily, so that Barbie’s face once more smiled happily at the spectators.

Chapter 7.  The Show.

Poppy was no longer struggling, but now she squirmed slowly as she accustomed herself to the sensation of the butt-plug.  After a pause to contemplate their prisoner, brunette remarked, “those legs could do with some attention - her skin looks terribly dry.  ”

“Okay.  I think I’ve got some cream here,” replied the other, squatting down and producing a tube from the bag.

The girls positioned themselves one each side of her, and began to massage cream into the backs of her thighs, occasionally allowing their fingers to brush her crotch.  Whenever this happened, she flinched.  She could do no more, so securely was she restrained.  At length, brunette stopped, and checked her fingers.

“Is it my imagination, or…”

“What’s that on your fingers?”

Brunette was rubbing her fingertips together.  “Don’t know.  It’s not cream.  It’s sticky, slimy…”

They stared at each other for a second in mock horror.  Then blonde ducked down and peered upwards at Poppy’s crotch.

“There’s a wet patch on her panties!  The rude little bitch!  We’re trying to help her, and she’s getting off on it!”  She pulled the crotch of her panties to one side.  “Look at that!  I knew it!  That’s disgusting!”  Poppy’s hairless pussy was indeed wet.  Even from where we stood we could see it glistening in the bright light.  Blonde appealed to the audience.  “Isn’t it?”

Murmurs of agreement.  From somewhere on the far side of the room, a woman called out, “She should be given a good spanking!”  Another woman added, “and a good shagging!”

By this time Maddy was watching with her mouth wide open, and Pen looked in a state of shock.  Personally, I was trembling all over, wondering where this could all be going next.  But at least we knew what sort of club it was now.

Brunette nodded.  “Good idea,” she cried, with an evil grin.  Her friend slid Poppy’s panties down onto her thighs, exposing her bottom, and she proceeded to administer five cracks of her whip, making the poor girl jerk and squeak with pain.  Replacing the whip in her boot, she stroked the flesh, now criss-crossed with red weals, for a minute, and then, with a wink at the audience, slid two rubber-sheathed fingers into Poppy’s pussy!

Poppy made inarticulate noises of protestation, wriggling her bum desperately, but she was firmly secured and completely helpless.  Brunette began to slide her fingers in and out.  The squelching of Poppy’s wet pussy, picked up by the mike, was quite audible.  When brunette added a third finger, two things happened.  Poppy started to emit a continuous muffled squeal….and I came.  I had been fingering myself for several seconds, and that was the last straw.  “Oh my god….” I groaned.  I was holding onto the back of the chair in front of me, but even so my legs gave way, and I sank to my knees.  Pen was by my side in a moment, putting her arm round me and supporting me. 

“You okay, Letty?”  I started to make excuses.  “It’s okay.  I understand.!” 

I looked at her, slightly ashamed of myself.  She lowered her eyes, embarrassed.  I couldn’t make out her colour in the dim candlelight, but I guessed her cheeks were burning.  She’d always been the innocent one.  Prim and proper Penelope!  We used to tease her about it.  I was amazed she’d lasted this long in the new job, given the outfit she was required to wear. 

Maddy bent down, and whispered, “you’re not the only one, Letty.  Half the audience are at it too!”

Brunette held up her fingers, gleaming with Poppy’s juices.

“She needs a cock, gentlemen.  That’s what she really needs.  A big, hard cock, deep inside her.  Any volunteers?”

Several men rose to offer their services, but a woman from the front row was already dragging her partner into the brightly-lit arena.  His penis was erect, sticking out of his open fly.

“Here you are.  He’s all ready for her.  Go on, Simon, show her what you can do.”

Simon was blushing, but obviously so aroused that his lust easily trumped his embarrassment.  Blondie was ready with a condom, which she rolled on with impressive professionalism.  Simon didn’t hesitate.  He positioned his prick carefully, then slid it in as far as it would go.  Poppy stiffened.  There was a general intake of breath.  Then he had taken hold of the red strap, and was pounding away for all he was worth, head thrown back, grunting at every thrust!  As he fucked her, his partner deftly unbuckled his belt and released his jeans, pulling them down, and then his boxers,  to give him more freedom of movement.  His belly slapped rhythmically against her buttocks, Poppy’s body quivering in sync.  He didn’t last long.  He gave a sudden cry, and buried himself deep in the girl, pulling hard on the strap.  While he was still inside her, Blondie was preparing the next volunteer.  By now, there was a short queue.  He withdrew, and the next guy immediately took his place.  Soon it had become a competition to see who could fuck the hardest and longest.  Brunette slid the condom off Simon’s wilting penis, knotted the end, and pushed it under the head strap of Poppy’s head harness, where it jerked back and forth as she was jolted by the unrelenting thrusts from behind, each accompanied by a sort of muffled chirrup from somewhere in her throat.

By the time she had collected three filled condoms, a sizeable group of prospective lovers had formed.  Blondie looked at them thoughtfully.

“It’s gonna take ages to satisfy this lot.  Know what I’m thinking?”

“I can imagine.  Let’s do it.  But we need help.”  She turned to the audience.  “Can we have a volunteer, please?”

Several hands shot up, but before any could be selected, Ilse’s voice rang out.

“Darling?  We have the hostesses.  They’re paid to assist.”  She turned to us.  “Er…Penelope.  Would you step out, please?”

This was said in such a tone that precluded argument.  Poor Pen!  I saw fear and embarrassment engulf her face.  A spotlight swung round and picked her out, her blue catsuit gleaming in the bright light.  She looked desperately at each of us.  But there was no escape.  Nevertheless, she hesitated, lip trembling.

“Penelope!”  It was Clarissa.  “Attend to your duties, please.  Now.”

Looking extremely uncomfortable, she picked her way slowly between the tables.  She entered the arena to a round of applause, and an admiring murmur.  It was the first time the spectators had had the opportunity to see her in the light, and appreciate her provocative appearance.  It seemed to me that the choice of Pen was no arbitrary one.  I suspected this was something Clarissa and Ilse had planned together.

“Come on, darling – don’t be shy,” smiled Blondie.  “We have to attend to Poppy’s gag.  All you have to do is deal with the condoms, just like I’ve been doing.  Do you think you can do that?”

Pen stared at her, and nodded nervously.  She looked terrified.  Maddy leant over and whispered in my ear, “I think this’ll be the last straw for her, poor thing.  She’s not cut out for stuff like this.”

“I know!  She’s such an innocent, poor dear.  This may be our last event together…”

Anyway, she had no choice.  While the two girls attended to Poppy’s head, Pen fumbled with a fresh condom for the next eager participant.  The girls first removed her ball gag, releasing a torrent of abuse, which they pointedly ignored.  Brunette produced a new device from her bag.  We understood its function immediately.  It was a metal ring faced and lined with bright red rubber, in the shape of a pair of wide open lips, with straps either side! 

“Fuck!” whispered Maddy.  I said nothing.  I could only watch, fascinated, my arousal building once again.

They buckled the lip gag tightly onto Poppy’s head harness.  She made inarticulate sounds of protest.  It altered her expression entirely, into something much more comic, causing a ripple of laughter to travel round the room.  Having secured it to their satisfaction, Blondie attended to the second strap, opposite Poppy’s neck.  She threaded the tip through the buckle, and tightened it, pulling the girl’s chin down firmly into the valley, so that her face was vertical and quite immovable.  She buckled it up, and patted her on the head.

“There, there.  Good girl.  Are you quite comfortable?”

Poppy emitted a very discontented gurgle.  Blondie nodded with satisfaction.  Saliva was already dripping from her big lips.

While this was going on, Pen was still fumbling with the condom.  She had tried twice to get it in place, but had only succeeded in covering her fingertips with the poor guy’s juices, making them slick and sticky.  In a final desperate attempt, she took his penis in one hand, slid back the foreskin, and went to put the condom on with the other.  Big mistake.  With a groan, he erupted all over her, his sperm splattering her chest and belly!  She was so surprised, she didn’t even try to get out of the way.  The audience exploded with laughter.  Pen stood there helplessly, looking down at her belly in dismay as the wads of white spunk made their way slowly down the shiny blue latex.

Brunette smiled.  “You’re supposed to be preparing him – not wanking him off,” she remarked, mischievously.  “I’m really sorry, sir.  Can’t get the staff, you know.”

The guy was recovering.  “No problem.  You shouldn’t employ such cute assistants!”  He grinned and retreated into the darkness.

Chapter 8.  The Show Must Go On.

I thought Pen was about to burst into tears and run out of the arena herself, but I was wrong.  Bravely, she opened another packet and began attending to the next prospective participant.  She was a little more skilful this time, and soon had him neatly packaged.  To our surprise, she even held Poppy open so that he could enter her easily!  Meanwhile, more than  half the queue had quickly migrated to the other end of the horse.  There was some scuffling for positions, but the girls quickly got the boys in line.

“No need for condoms here,” grinned Brunette.  “No, Poppy needs feeding now, don’t you, sweetie?”

Poppy had no time to reply, because the first penis had already slid into those inviting lips.  There was a stir amongst the audience.  For a few moments she was penetrated at both ends, the thrusts coming alternately.  Pen stood back and watched the spectacle wide-eyed.  I didn’t know what was going through her mind, but I suspected she was in a state of total shock.  Without the numbing effect of a condom, it was inevitable the guy at her head end wouldn’t last as long, and sure enough, within less than a minute he gave an ecstatic cry, and pumped his load into her mouth.  When finally he withdrew, they remained connected for  moment by a string of semen.  I had expected an outflow from her mouth, but to my surprise it appeared that she had swallowed virtually his entire emission!

As the evening proceeded, Pen honed her technique, and made few more mistakes – though to our amusement, on several occasions, participants decided she was a more arousing sight than the object of the exercise, and simply approached her, masturbating, and came over her tightly-suited body.  Amongst the participants were several women, equipped with strap-on penises, who, if anything, fucked Poppy harder and longer than their male counterparts!  All credit to her that she didn’t allow any of this to distract her from her primary task, of fitting and removing condoms, and handing them to one of the others to attach to Poppy’s head.

By the end of the show, I don’t think anyone in the room – not excepting Ilse and Clarissa – had not had some degree of sexual satisfaction.  Myself, I had cum a second time, and I’m sure Maddy had too.  The arena was awash with sperm, Poppy was smothered, her face dripping, the girls’ shirts, breeches and boots were glistening, and Pen was frosted from head to foot, and standing there in a slimy puddle.  What Poppy was feeling like I couldn’t imagine.  Brunette pressed a lever on the horse with her foot, and it rose up on wheels.  To thunderous applause, they pushed the horse  out behind the scenes, waving goodbye to the audience as they went.  A minute later they returned to take a curtain call, leading the unfortunate Poppy on a leash, smiling now, and in the midst of more applause, bowing to the four corners of the room.  Then Ilse walked into the arena, holding a microphone.

“Thank you, thank you!  We do hope you all enjoyed the show whether or not you participated or just watched.  I think our little helper Penelope also deserves especial thanks, don’t you?”  Cue cheers, clapping and whistles, which embarrassed our friend, whose latex-framed face turned bright red at the accolade!  Maddy and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“The bar will be open until one, food is also available, so please relax and enjoy the rest of the evening.  We hope to put on another show next month.  But I’m sure you will agree with me, it’s going to be difficult to equal this evening’s spectacle.  The videos will be sent out to all registered members in the next few days.  Thank you again!”

Pen was still standing there in the spotlights looking dazed.  Ilse took her by the hand, said something to her, looking into her downturned face solicitously, then led her away to a side door.  When she reappeared by our side fifteen minutes later, she had showered, and her catsuit and hood were clean and glossy again.  She still seemed a bit distracted, and we were slightly concerned about what her state of mind might be.

“Pen…darling…are you…okay?” I asked, softly.

“Yeah…I think so…”

“That wasn’t fair.  I’m sure Clarissa and Ilse chose you deliberately.”

“Deliberately?  What do you mean?”

“Well, you know…I mean…”

I could hardly tell her we thought of her as an innocent, a child, almost.

“What?”

“You know, I think they just wanted to embarrass you…I mean, it could have been any one of us…”

“Absolutely,” put in Maddy.  “I would have died if I’d been out there, doing…that!  I don’t know how you coped.”

“Well, I didn’t have a choice, did I?  I hope you both enjoyed watching me,” she added, sarcastically.

I ignored her.  “Did Clarissa say anything to you afterwards?”

“She congratulated me.  She said I was going to get a hundred pound bonus from Ilse for being in the act.”

“Wow, great.  Well done!”

As it turned out, the evening had been so successful, we all got a hundred pound bonus, and Pen got two hundred.  This was on top of our pay.  We were becoming ridiculously rich.  We got back to the office, showered and changed, and waited for Clarissa to appear.  She was going to drive us all home in the limo.  We were standing together by the changing room door, chatting about the evening.  I was eager to find out how Pen was feeling about everything.  I was still afraid she was going to chicken out of the whole thing.  But she was tight-lipped about it.

“I wonder what we’ll be asked to next,” I ventured.  “There has to be some boundaries, doesn’t there?”  I looked straight at Pen.  She obviously felt obliged to say something.

“I can’t quit, can I, whatever my feelings?  It’s all right for you two – it’s a bonus.  But I’ve got my mum, and I’m only just beginning to make inroads into her debts.”

“Well, we all need the money one way or another,” I responded, feeling attacked.  But Maddy, typically, immediately punctured my hypocrisy.

“As far as I’m concerned, for this amount of cash, I’d do anything Clarissa told me to!” she laughed.

“Really, Madison?  That’s very interesting!”

Clarissa had entered at that very moment.  Maddy turned bright red.

“We’ll have to see what we can find for you, then, won’t we?” she added, with a wicked smile.  “Well, come on girls, let’s get you all home.  You must be exhausted.  Especially you, Penelope.”

On the way back, Pen, who had been quiet, and looking thoughtful, suddenly spoke.

“Miss?”

“Yes, Penelope?”

“What was that about a video?”

“Oh, all the shows are videoed, and the members each get a copy in their email.  That’s all.”

“Will you get a copy?”

“Well I can ask for one if you want.”

“Yes, please.  Will I be in it?”

“Of course.  You were part of the show.”

“So people will be…looking at it?”

Clarissa laughed.  “I’m afraid so, Penelope.  Does that bother you?”

“No, miss.”  A pause.  “Do you have any other assignments for us?”

“Well, there is one possible, this coming Saturday.  But I’m not sure you’d be up for it.  I have to give them an answer by tomorrow.”

“What is it, miss?” I asked.

“Why don’t you all come in tomorrow, about midday, and we can discuss it over lunch.  I’m sure you’d be up for it, Madison.  After all, you’d “do anything”, I think you said.”

Maddy dropped her eyes.

“Why…?” I began.

“No more tonight, Letitia.  Enough for one day.  I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

Chapter 9.  The Next Assignment.

I fell asleep immediately that night.  It was late, and two standing orgasms was more than I was used to.  I couldn’t remember what I dreamt about, but when I awoke I was wet and horny again.

I couldn’t wait to find out what this mysterious job was all about.  Neither, apparently, could the others – we all arrived at the office a quarter of an hour before twelve.  Clarissa arrived precisely at twelve.  She had booked a table at a local restaurant, and we walked there together.  Pen seemed thoughtful, Maddy was unusually quiet, so it was left to me to chat to Clarissa.  She was very friendly, not at all daunting, as she had seemed at first.  I think now that she had got to know us a bit, she was beginning to like us.  I even felt she might be feeling protective towards us.  That may seem a strange thing for me to have thought, but I was sure she would look after us and make sure no harm came to us, and for whatever reason I had a sort of confidence in her.  I trusted her.

“Recovered from yesterday, Letitia?”

“Yes, thank you miss, quite recovered.”

“So what do you think of what you saw at that club?”

“It was…interesting.”

“Yes.  I agree. I suppose I’m asking whether you were okay with it?  Did you have any qualms about it all?”

“I did at first, I guess.  But everyone was consenting…”

“Except Poppy.”

“Well, she was consenting too, wasn’t she?”

“Oh yes, of course.  She’s a…  Well, let’s just say she does it voluntarily…eagerly, in fact.”

“I thought so.  But she has amazing powers of endurance.”

Clarissa laughed.  “She does.  But look, we’re here.  Let’s find a table.”

It was a posh fish restaurant.  We were all very hungry.  I think we had all overslept and missed breakfast.  We didn’t say much of consequence until we’d each drunk a glass of wine, and our plates had been taken away.  Then Clarissa began.

“Girls.  I said we’d discuss this next event.  Unless you all agree, we won’t go.  That’s how I’d prefer to work, but some things will have to be obligatory.  Right.  The details.  It’s a stag party.  One of the guests at the wedding.  Timothy.  I doubt you remember him.”

“I do,” said Maddy.  “Cute guy.”

“Maybe.  That’s beside the point.  He’s getting married himself next week, so this is his last fling, as it were.  Six till midnight.  Twenty guests, all young guys, most of whom were also at the wedding.  A dangerous environment, as you can imagine.”

“So what would we have to do?” asked Pen.  “Waitressing again?”  Clarissa made a face.

“Well, if they had their way, everything!  But that’s not going to happen.  No, not waitressing.  And no actual sex.”

“Pity,” said Maddy.  “He is really cute…”

“Shush, Maddy!” I scolded her.  “You’re sex mad.  What about your boyfriend?”

“He gets enough.  He’s got nothing to complain about.”

“As I was saying, girls, there will be no sex for them.  I’m not sure Tim fully understood that.  He seemed so besotted by the three of you.  And I didn’t disabuse him.”

“But…what will they do, then?” asked Pen, puzzled.

“That’s what it will be interesting to see, Penelope.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.  Clarissa took a breath.

“Right.  You’d be in your catsuits.  You’d have new hoods, just like your usual ones, except…”

“Yes?”

“They’d be full face.  Holes for your nostrils and mouth, and welded-on goggles.”

We stared at her.

“Moreover, you’d be wearing head harnesses and ball gags – locking ones, so they couldn’t remove them, and use your mouths…and your wrists would be cuffed to your belts, on short chains – also all locked.”

“We’d be helpless…” cried Maddy.

“Pretty much.  The balls would be pierced, so you’d have no breathing problems, but otherwise you’d just be three rubber dolls, seemingly at the mercy of the guests.  That’s why I said we’d discuss this before things went any further.”

I leant back in my chair.  “Phew!  I’m not sure, miss…I mean, what are they going to do to us?”

“I have no idea, Letitia.  But they won’t be able to do much.  That’s the whole idea.  I hope I didn’t mislead Tim, though I confess he may have assumed that in some way you’d be there for his and his friends’ use.  I thought it would be fun to see how they react when they realise, with you all encased in heavy latex, and your mouths full of ball gag, that the objects of their lust are entirely inaccessible!  Which brings me to the final thing.  Your panties will be fitted with dildos.  Remote controlled dildos, powered by little power-packs attached to the backs of your belts.  Having seen the state of you – all three of you - at the club, I thought it would be unreasonable to expect you to endure hours of frustration in such an environment.  The boys would have no access to those, of course.  I would be in control of that aspect of the event.

“You’re going to be present, miss?” I asked, surprised.

“I, and Evie, my photographer.  I need to keep an eye on things.  Make sure no-one attempts to abuse my little girls.  And Evie will record proceedings for posterity.”

I shifted in my seat.  My panties were soaking.  Why did this arouse me so much?  And why did I think Clarissa was not exactly going to be a disinterested observer?”

Maddy’s cheeks were burning.  I guessed her reaction wasn’t that different to mine.  “Miss…it’s terribly…rude…don’t you think?”  Clarissa raised one eyebrow, and she added, hurriedly, “I mean, I’ll do it, course – if for no other reason but to see what they get up to!”

“I can imagine,” I murmured.  “Little boys are so disgusting…”

“But, miss?” said Pen, “They’re going to be so frustrated.  Especially if they were expecting…”

“Oh, Penelope.  I do hope so!  Men are so arrogant.  They think they can always have just what they want.  Well, this time, they’re going to be disappointed!”

She said this with real feeling.   

“Usual terms, miss?” asked Maddy.

“Plus a two hundred pound bonus for each of you.”

“I’m in!” she cried.  “No problem.”

“Letitia?”

“If Maddy’s willing…yeah, I guess.”

We all looked at Pen.

“Penelope?”

Pen hesitated.  She’s going to pull out, I thought.

“Poor boys…” she murmured, absently.  “Yes, miss.  I’m in too.”

After lunch, Pen had to get back home to help her mother, leaving me and Mads to walk home together.

“Built-in dildos!  What do you think of that, Maddy?”

“Can you imagine if we didn’t have them?  The frustration?”

“It makes me shiver, just to think about it.  I don’t know what’s come over me since we started this business.”

“You’ll know what’s come over you on Saturday, all right!”

I laughed.  “Do you think we’re turning into nymphos?”

“Probably.  But rich nymphos, anyway.  I don’t care.  To be honest, I’m really enjoying myself for the first time in my life.”

“Me too, to tell the truth.  My body’s just buzzing all the time now.  That Clarissa is one bad lady.”

“She is.  But she doesn’t have much fun herself, does she?”

“Didn’t you see her face when she was imagining the boys’ frustration?  That’s it.  That’s what she gets off on!”

“You’re saying she doesn’t like men much, Letty.”

“I’m saying she hates men.  She despises them.  Maybe one did some bad stuff to her one time.  She likes to see them suffer, or be humiliated.” 

“But…the club…?”

“That was a humiliation for them too.  Helpless in the grip of their lust.  I saw her lip curling as she watched.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…”

“I am.  And not only is she a man-hater, and a bit of a sadist – she’s a lesbian, as well.  She’s getting off on us – all the attention, the fetishistic outfits, everything.  It’s obvious.”

“Yeah, well I agree with you there.  But she always keeps her distance, doesn’t she?”

“Yes.  But I bet she lies in bed at night thinking about us and…you know.”

“Maybe.”  She paused.

“What about Pen?  I was convinced she was going to bottle out.”

“Me too.  But you know, I was watching her at the club.  I think…”

“Yeah?”

“I think…she may be as bad as us underneath all that blushing innocence!”

Chapter 10.  Modifications and a Revelation. 

We were back in the office Saturday afternoon, to examine the modifications to our outfits.

“You all ready for tonight, girls?” asked Clarissa.

“Yes, miss.  Where’s the venue, anyway?”

“The Richborne.  Timothy’s hired a room.  They’ll eat first, and you’ll join them when they’ve finished, probably about seven or seven thirty.  But you’ll be paid for the full six hours.  I’ve arranged for you to be served snacks before you suit up.”

The Richborne was about the poshest hotel in town.  I guessed it was going to be a fairly fancy do.

“I have to tell you one more thing.”

We looked at her with faint alarm.  What else?

“Timothy…Timothy’s my nephew.”

Maddy laughed out loud.  “Your nephew?  So this is partly…your personal…wedding present?”

We were all laughing now.

“Oh, miss!  Well, we’ll make sure to give him an extra nice time, then!” I cried.

Clarissa smiled.  “Thank you, girls.  It doesn’t make any difference, of course.  He’s just another client.  Even if I do have a bit of a reputation for…spoiling him.”

“How sweet!” Pen remarked, satirically.  “I bet this is the biggest, nicest present he’s ever had from his dear Auntie Clarissa – three little latex sluts to play with!”

Clarissa frowned angrily at her. Pen’s face fell.  She realised at once she had overstepped the mark.

“I-I’m sorry, miss.  I didn’t mean…”

Clarissa just gave her contemptuous look, and returned to business.

“Anyway, girls, let’s look at your outfits.  Follow me.” 

She led us into the dressing room.

“First, your new panties.”  She took a pink cardboard box off a shelf, and opened the lid.  She lifted out a pair of fine natural latex panties, and as she did so a dildo dropped out of one leg, and hung down like a big heavy udder.  “Have a look.”

We examined our new underwear with nervous fingers.  The dildo itself was rather short, but at the same time quite fat.  But it was no perfunctory penis substitute.  On the contrary, it was moulded into a perfect penis shape, with a veined shaft and smooth bulging head!  “My god…” whispered Maddy, as she weighed it in her hand.  “That’s so…realistic!”

“Yes dear,” said Clarissa.  “It’s my own creation, actually,” she added, with pride.  “I designed it with naturalism in mind – I hate those huge, slick, impersonal objects.  However, I would venture to suggest it’s better than nearly all originals!  And you certainly won’t be able to forget you’re wearing it.”

“No, you couldn’t possibly,” I said.  It’s the perfect shape – it’s like, my ideal penis.  I love the veining, and that head is so lovely and big and swollen!”

Pen fingered it intently, but said nothing.

“I hope it won’t be too large for little miss chastity,” sneered Clarissa, mockingly.  She clearly hadn’t forgotten Pen’s jibe.  I had a feeling she was contemplating ways of punishing her for her cheek.  She turned to us.

“Yes, I went for realism.  Which is also why – it doesn’t vibrate!”

“Doesn’t vibrate?” said Maddy, a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

Clarissa laughed.  “No.  It doesn’t vibrate.  Have you ever met a guy whose prick vibrates?  It pulses!  Throbs.  Just like a real one.  There are four settings – thirty pulses a minute, sixty pulses a minute, a hundred and twenty pulses a minute - and orgasmic.  If it’s switched to orgasmic, the pulses increase in intensity and frequency, and the head moves slightly back and forth in rhythm, until it reaches orgasm.”

“It actually reaches orgasm?” cried Maddy, wide-eyed.

“Oh, yes. A sudden climax of powerful, rapid pulses, slowly diminishing as the orgasm subsides.  And I’ll tell you a secret.  My designers and I are working on a new model which will have the facility to spurt some sort of fluid.  Don’t ever mention that to anyone.  If we solve the technical problems, it’s going to revolutionise the market.  Who would want one of those ugly stupid things that are being sold now, if they could have something so natural, as good as – or better than - real sex?”

“Wow….” was all I could say.

“Now, I won’t bore you with too many technical details,” she said, “but I’ll explain how it is powered.”  She turned the panties over, and showed us the outside of the crotch.  There was a tiny hole in the base of the dildo, no more than a couple of millimetres wide.  “A little plug fits in her, and a wire is threaded through the internal seam on the suit, and emerges at the back of the waist, where it attaches to the power pack and control buttons. You may have noticed the crotch seam on your suits is tubular.”

“Noticed?” I said, laughing.  “I could hardly fail to notice, miss, with that thing flicking back and forth over my clit whenever I take a step.  I thought it was deliberately designed to arouse!”

“Oh, no….it wasn’t.  Well, that’s an unexpected bonus, then.  Such a little detail, too.  I had no idea.  I shall have to tell Desirée – she’s my chief designer.  She’ll find that very amusing.”

“Oh, will she, miss?” said Maddy sarcastically.  “So nice our discomfort can afford her a little entertainment.”

Clarissa laughed.  “Oh, Maddy, please - don’t pretend you don’t enjoy enforced clitoral stimulation.  I don’t believe it.”

Maddy blushed, and said no more.

“Right, girls, that’s that for the panties.  Now, let me show you your new hoods.”  Down came another box.  “We’ll use Penelope’s.” 

She opened the box and lifted out Pen’s blue hood.  She held it up so we could see the face.  It was moulded, nose and everything, with little raised oval eyepieces with clear plastic lenses.  The only apertures were at the nostrils and mouth, the latter just a small circle, reinforced at the perimeter.  I noticed that, just as with our other hoods, there were the same loops at each side.

“And this is your gag, Penelope.”  She held up a shiny blue ball on a blue strap.  “The strap feeds through the loops on your hood and buckles at the back.  The buckle if secured by this little padlock, so no-one will be able to remove it.  You will see that the ball is made of solid rubber, but it has a little hole drilled through the middle so you can breathe through your mouth as well as your nose.  But it will very effectually keep you nice and quiet.”

Pen still hadn’t said a word.  Clarissa looked a little concerned.

“So, Penelope…  Is that all right?  Is there anything you’re unsure about?”

“What are the other loops for, miss?”

“Oh…the upper loops are for eye-covers.  You will find a pair in your belt-purse, along with the ear-plugs, but I don’t think you’ll be needing them tonight.  The boys will be wanting to show off to you, I’m sure.  Talking of which, here are your modified belts.  These also have a locking buckle, at the back here…here are the power packs and buttons – they’re quite compact, as you can see – and here at each side are the rings to which your wrist chains will be attached.  I’ve got each of you a pair of locking leather wrist cuffs.”  She paused, smiling mischievously as she observed our reactions.  “But I’m too good to you, aren’t I?  I’ve even got you ankle cuffs, with a short curb chain, to dissuade you from running off somewhere.  And because I think you should look sexy tonight for the boys, I’ve bought you brand new patent leather ankle boots.”

She opened a box.  “What do you think?”

I have to say I loved them.  Three pairs of shiny scarlet boots, half-calf length, with a three-inch block heel and two silver buckles on the calf.  Between the buckles loops were sewn on to the sides of the boots.  I guessed they would be used for the ankle-cuffs.

“Oh, they’re beautiful, miss!”

You’ve each got a pair in your own colour.  And of course you’ll have nice studded leather collars and leashes, so the boys will be able to lead you wherever they want, without having to manhandle you too much.  Oh, and as you won’t be waitressing – I’ve made that clear to Timothy – you’ll have rubber mitts tonight instead of gloves.”

“Mitts, miss?” said Maddy.  “Why?”

“Well, as I say, Madison, you won’t need to handle anything…”  She paused.  “And, well…I don’t want the boys…asking you to do anything with your fingers…”

“Oh.”

“Yes.  You see what I mean.”

She paused again, seemingly savouring our confusion, our vacillation between delight and discomfort.  I noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed, and she seemed strangely nervous…or excited.  She chattered on, absent-mindedly cupping the ball-gag in one hand.  And as she replaced the panties in the box, I could see her weighing and fondling the dildo, and casting sideways glances at Penelope.  I knew then all our suspicions were correct.  She wasn’t just in this for the money.  The whole thing really turned her on.  I mean, really.  Three young girls, all the fetish stuff, pushing us further and further….   It was beyond doubt.

Chapter 11.  An Outburst.

We had an hour or two free before we had to get ready, so we left the office and walked to the nearest pub.  I think we all felt we needed a small drink to help us come to terms with that evening’s event.  We got our drinks and sat down.  Nothing had been said so far about the latest revelations.  I thought I’d better sound out the others.

“Well, Maddy?  You said you’d do anything.  Looks like your wish has come true.”

“I didn’t wish!  I just said…you know…the money’s so good…  Anyway, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?  Totally cocooned in latex?  Chained hand and foot?  Remote-controlled dildos?  Seriously?”

Maddy took a sip of her drink and declined to respond.  I turned to Pen.  She, I was sure, must be horrified.

“Pen?”

“What?”

“What do you think?”

“Clarissa must have the most amazing imagination.  Sorry, Auntie Clarissa.”

We sniggered.  “Yes, fancy that!” I remarked.  “I don’t think your little bit of sarcasm went down very well, though, Pen.  She looked daggers at you.”

Yeah, maybe she can’t take a joke.  That’s not my problem.”

“Well, I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of her,” said Maddy.  “I don’t think she’s the forgiving type.”

“I don’t give a toss,” countered Pen.  “It’s time we realised what she really is – a perverted old woman.  Did you see how excited she was getting, watching our reaction?”

“She’s not old.  But I agree with the rest.  It’s obvious she’s enjoying all this a lot more than we are,” I added.

Pen frowned, irritated.

“If you’re not enjoying it, Lettie, then why don’t you leave?”

“I didn’t say that.”

What is your problem?  We’re getting amazingly well paid, we’re getting loads of fabulous orgasms - at least, I am – and we’re the centre of attention.  I get the impression you think I’m some sort of prude.”

“No, er…course not, Pen….but…”

“Well, if you do, I can disabuse you.  I can’t wait to get that lovely fat dildo inside my pussy, and have all those randy young men salivating over us.  Do you know something?  When we were at the club, all I could think of was how marvellous it would be if that had been me, not Poppy, tied down out there, with one prick after another slamming into me!”  My eyes widened.  I had never imagined Pen could think such things, let alone articulate them.

“Pen…?”

“Yes, and using my face as a pussy, filling my mouth with hot, slimy sperm!  I wanted it so much.  I don’t know how many times I came.  But it wasn’t me, and I wouldn’t be allowed to do that, so this is the next best thing, and yes, it’s true, I really get off on the idea of driving men wild and watching them cum and cum and tonight I hope I get covered with it and I hope Clarissa makes that dildo fuck me senseless!”  She took a breath, and gulped down her drink.  “And now I’m going back to get ready.  I’m too horny to wait any longer!”

And she stood up, slung her bag on her shoulder, and marched out.

Maddy and I stared at each other, speechless.  Eventually she spoke.

“What the fuck…was that?”

I shook my head slowly.

“That was our little innocent Pen…”

“Pretending to be a complete slut!”

“Yeah.  I understand.  She’s fed up with being labelled as the innocent, naïve little girl.  Just cos she’s never had a boyfriend…”

“To our knowledge.”

“To our knowledge.  Fair enough.  So she wants to prove she’s as cool as anyone.  Actually, this job suits her perfectly.  She can experience sex vicariously, without the need to actually do it.”   

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” said Maddy.  “Yes.  And she’s completely insulated in that nice thick rubber suit, hidden and anonymous…”

“But wait till those guys start manhandling her.  I can only guess how embarrassed she’s going to feel.  I only wish we’d be able to see her face…”

“If she wasn’t going to be chained up, I bet she’d run a mile!”

“She might try anyway!”  And we both burst out laughing.

“Come on,” said Maddy, rising.  “Let’s get going.  We’ve got a bunch of oversexed boys to drive crazy.  I’ve always wanted to see a roomful of young guys jerking themselves off in frustration!”

Clarissa was surprised to see us all back so promptly.  She had changed out of her everyday clothes into full riding gear, with cream breeches, long riding boots, white shirt, and a cream stock secured with a gold pin.  I noticed a slim riding-whip peeping out of the side of her right boot.  She looked like she meant business.

“Hi girls.  That was a quick drink.  You’ve got half an hour yet, before…”

“No miss – we’re ready now.  Be nice to get there a bit early.  Where’s our dildo pants?”

There was no problem inserting the dildos.  We were already slippery, me and Maddy anyway, and they slid in easily.  It felt comfortable and comforting inside me.  Just its presence slaked some of that insatiable longing, and took the edge off the frustration.  We pulled on our suits to waist height, and then called Clarissa in to attach the leads to the power packs.  After that was done, she hung around to zip us up, and make sure our hoods were smooth and neat.  Then she produced our mitts and handed them out.  Heavy scarlet latex, too short for us to extend our fingers.

“Hold onto these.  You can put them on when we get there, with the chains and the gags and the leashes,” she said.  She smiled, eyes sparkling.  “Timothy and his friends are going to have such a surprise!”

Chapter 12.  Penelope Plugged.

Clarissa helped us on with our lovely new boots.  Thoughtfully, she had provided us with little cotton socks to act as a buffer.  Looking at her kneeling at my feet, carefully doing up the buckles, I felt an almost daughterly affection for her.  She was a very complex person, and my feelings for her equally difficult to put into words. 

We were driven in the limo, as usual, and arrived at the hotel at five.  By the time we got there, the dildo had already started weaving its spell – I felt as horny as hell, and my nipples were visibly erect.  Clarissa grabbed her bag, and conducted us up the front steps to where a uniformed doorman, with professional aplomb and without the slightest hint of surprise or interest, threw open the big doors.  She led us straight to reception, and introduced herself.  We certainly turned some heads!  A maid showed us to the room reserved for Timothy’s party.  A young woman not much older than us, carrying a black leather bag, and wearing black trousers and a black leather jacket, was waiting for us.

“Evie!” cried Clarissa.  “Darling!  You’re early.”  They exchanged kisses.  “Come and say hello to my girls.  Girls, this is Evie.  She’ll be recording all the boys antics on video!  Evie, meet Letitia…Madison…and…yes, this is Penelope.  Penelope can be a little naughty sometimes.  I hope I won’t have to discipline her tonight…”  She touched the handle of her whip.  She spoke jokingly, but there was an undertone of seriousness, even threat, in her voice.

Pen looked aggrieved.  It really wasn’t fair of Clarissa to single her out like that in front of a stranger.  I could see she was about to protest, but then thought better of it.

The room was sumptuously decorated, with heavy velvet curtains hanging by the tall windows, chandeliers, and a polished wooden floor.  In the centre was a long table covered with a white cloth and set for dinner, around it long red rugs, and scattered around the walls a dozen very plush and comfy-looking sofas.  There was a curtained-off corner of the room to my left, and on my right a couple of doors, one marked ‘Toilets’.  Some stag party, I thought.  These people must be worth some money!  I glanced at Pen, and thought what a hard time she been through over recent years.  Suddenly I felt an access of respect for Clarissa, for she was fleecing these rich idiots, and giving us what I imagined must be a sizeable share.  I determined to do my best to wring as much out of them as I could.

Clarissa seated us on one of the sofas, and opened her bag of equipment.  She helped us on with our mitts.  They had broad, tight wrist bands with two loops.  She threaded the cuff straps through these, buckled them, and locked the buckles with miniature padlocks.  She clipped chains between our belts and our wrists.  These attached with little steel carabiners - the type which you can screw up.  If we could have reached them we may have been able to undo them – but of course we couldn’t reach them.  Then she produced our new collars – not posture collars, but made of soft leather, studded with short blunt steel spikes, about an inch and a half wide, and colour-coded, which she threaded through the loops on the necks of our suits and secured at the back of our necks with tiny silver padlocks.  Each one was fitted with two vertical D-rings, one at the back and one at the front, the front one additionally decorated with a little bell.  With a mischievous smile, she held up three short leashes, each about a foot and a half long, with hand-loops, matching the collars.  These she clipped to the front D-ring.

“There.  Nearly done.  Just your gags.  She handed them out.  Bright red shiny balls on colour-coded straps.

“I thought you’d look nice with red accessories.  But you don’t have to put them on straight away.  Let’s wait a few minutes.  I don’t suppose they’ll be here before quarter to.”

“Miss?” piped up Pen, glancing at us defiantly.  “Put mine on now.  I want to be ready.  And…I want to see what it feels like to be…completely plugged,” she blurted.

Maddy and I glanced at each other.  I winked.  She was maintaining the pretence of being cool with it all.  Somehow I didn’t think it was a good tactic right now, not in front of Clarissa.  I was right.

Clarissa hesitated, a little surprised.  “If you insist, Penelope.  But you won’t be completely plugged, will you?”

“W-what do you mean…,” stammered Pen.

“I mean, you won’t have a butt plug, dear.  I didn’t think you would be ready for that just yet.”

Pen looked shocked.  But then she noticed our smirking faces.

“I would, miss!  I don’t know about the others!”  She stared at us contemptuously.

“Girls…?   Would do you like the idea of butt plugs too?”

“No thank you, miss,” we chorused.

“It’s just you then, Penelope.  Fortunately I think I have one in my bag.  There’s just time.”  She smiled delightedly.  “I’ll have to undress you again, but there’s a ladies’ boudoir next door to the loo.  End door on the right.  Go there and wait for me.  I’ll be with you in a second.”

Pen was staring at her, in total shock.  She realised she’d made a big mistake.  And she knew we knew.  We were hugging ourselves with glee.  We weren’t very nice, were we, but it served her right for pretending to be a slut.  She hesitated, but Clarissa had no intention of letting her back out.  It seemed to me that she really had it in for her.

“Go on, dear.  Quickly.”

Penelope retreated, and disappeared through the far door.  Clarissa rummaged in her bag.

“Ah.  There we are!”  She winked at us, and held up a short black rubber plug with an egg-shaped end.

“Beginner’s model.  Hope she likes it.”  She stood up and went to follow Pen.

“From what she said to us, she should do,” laughed Maddy.

Clarissa stopped in her tracks.  “What did she say?”

“Miss?”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing really…  In the pub, just now…”

“Yes?”

“Well, something about how she would have liked to be Poppy…but it was just bravado, miss.”

“Tell me exactly what she said, Madison.  Now.  Quickly, please.”

“But, miss…it was sort of…a private conversation.  I don’t want to…”

“Tell me.  Now.”

Maddy stammered out the gist of Pen’s tirade.  Clarissa pushed her for more detail, precise words, phrases.  She repeated them to herself, as if memorising them.

“Thank you, Madison,” she said, thoughtfully.  “How interesting…”

Chapter 13.  A Polite Introduction.

When they emerged ten minutes later, poor Pen was looking slightly uncomfortable.  She was walking with little steps, and holding herself very upright.  Under her hood her cheeks must have been burning with shame.  We could barely conceal our mirth.

“Fits perfectly.  Doesn’t it, Penelope?”

Pen managed to give a slight nod.

“Now you’re completely plugged, just like you wanted.  What a brave girl!  Shall I tell Timothy?”

Pen shook her head vigorously.

“No, perhaps not.  Well, we’d better get on.  Penelope, I might as well do you first.”

She picked up a ball gag.

“All right, Penelope.  Open wide then, dear.  These ones have a little give, so you’ll be able to exercise your jaw muscles to some extent…”

Pen opened her mouth, and Clarissa pushed the shiny red ball gently in.  Then, going around the back of the sofa, she took the two ends of the strap, slipped them through the special loops on the side of Pen’s hood, and buckled them firmly together behind her head, securing them with another little padlock.  She returned to the front and looked at the finished article with keen attention.  Once again I saw that intent look on Clarissa’s face, but this time tinged with something else, something I can only describe as a sort of malicious glee.

While Clarissa fitted our gags, Evie was preparing her camera.  It looked quite a high-tech affair, and she fitted it to a sort of triangular arm which was itself attached to her body with a harness.  She said it allowed her to point it easily where she pleased, and get a smooth, steady image.  I nodded my understanding and apparent approval, but with growing anxiety.  Thank goodness we were enclosed head to foot, completely anonymous!  But I had no time for further cogitation, because at that moment there was a hubbub outside the door, and a moment later the maid entered, and announced, in a somewhat exasperated voice, “Mister Timofy and friends”.

“One second,” said Clarissa.  “Girls!  Get up!  Now, you’re going to greet the partygoers.  It’ll give them something to think about while they’re eating.”

She helped us to our feet, and made us stand in line.

“Now be good girls, won’t you?”

Evie had been filming all the while we’d been getting ready.  Now she took up a position which allowed her to records the guests’ reactions.

“All right.  Let them in.”

Timothy was the first through the door.  I recognised him from the wedding.  He was quite cute, I had to admit, especially in a black dinner jacket.  But not the sort of bloke I could ever fancy.  Spoilt, like a lot of his type, like all those idiots at the wedding.  He looked around, taking in the room.  It took him a few seconds to notice us.  But when he did he stopped in his tracks.  His mouth fell open.

“Timothy, darling!  May I introduce your…playmates for the evening?”  (I wanted to vomit when she used that word.)  “Madison…in yellow, Letitia, in pink, and Penelope, in blue.”

Timothy’s friend were now crowding in behind him.  As they registered our presence, the hubbub of voices and laughter died down to absolute silence.  They stood staring, wide-eyed.  Then a voice broke the silence.  A whoop of delight.  The whole crowd of them there must have been thirty – came galloping towards us, whooping and whistling, cheering and laughing.  If I had imagined our appearance may have engendered a modicum of admiration or respect, I was immediately disabused.  They surrounded us, poking, squeezing and groping, drinking us in with lecherous eyes, fighting to get their hands on us, like a herd of randy pigs!  I looked at Clarissa.  She had stood back, a smile of delight on her face, while Evie skipped about filming from different angles.  I had hands fondling my bum, squeezing by breasts, and pinching and pulling my nipples, and exploring my crotch.  It was the most disgusting exhibition of pure unmoderated lust I had ever witnessed, let alone been a part of.  I looked at my friends.  Maddy was struggling against her molesters.  Pen…  Pen was trying to escape.  She was backing out, pushing her abusers aside.  She was panicking.  She managed to get to the edge of the crush.  It was then that Clarissa revealed her true colours.  She drew her whip, and gave her one quick, hard cut across her buttocks.  Pen squeaked, and was propelled back into the mêlée.

“No dear, it’s too late to back out, I’m afraid.  You belong to the boys now!”

Her remark redoubled their impudence.  Now they knew there were no constraints.  Penelope now became the focus of their attention.  Their hands were all over her.  They crowed with triumph.

“Feel those tits!”

“Her nipples are so stiff…”

“James!  You suck that one.  I’m gonna suck this one!”

“Nibble them Pete!  Make her squirm!”

“What a lovely bit of wank fodder…”

“Later, Mike.”

“Hey, boys!  Feel this!  In ‘er bum!”

“Is it…?”

“Yeah!  She got a butt plug in!  What a little…”

“Put ‘er on the sofa!  I need to jack off…”

Clarissa’s voice rose above the clamour.

“All right, boys!  That’s enough!  You’ll have plenty of time for that later.  It’s time for dinner now.”

Reluctantly, the crowd broke up.  The maid showed them to their places.  Even seated, they couldn’t take their eyes of us.  Clarissa arranged us in a neat row on one of the sofas.  I think we were all praying dinner lasted a long time.  I wanted to remonstrate with Clarissa, but the most I could do was make a muffled chirp of protest.  I turned to Pen, trying to construe her feelings.  But there was no clues to be found on her rubber-sheathed head, with its blank goggles and ball-gagged mouth.  The most I could do was to move my thigh against hers in reassurance, and touch her bemittened hand with mine in a subtle gesture of commiseration.

Chapter 14.  A Spell in the Pool.

We watched our tormentors at dinner.  They ate like pigs, too, and treated the maids who were waiting on them like slaves.  They shouted, laughed uncontrollably, threw food at each other…and drank.  The empty wine bottles were collected in black bags, and more brought in.  It was already clear to me that Timothy and his friends, though technically adults, were mentally just a bunch of immature adolescents.  I felt confirmed in my view that our appearance, so far from being a protection, was actually an encouragement to misbehaviour.  Had we attended properly dressed, as glamorous young women, I am certain most of them would have been terrified of us.  The thought made Clarissa’s motivation all the more dubious.  My only hope was that they would all be unconscious by the time dinner was over.  But alas, it was not to be.  After dessert was served, Timothy decided they couldn’t wait any longer.

“Auntie?  Could we…?  You know, the girls?”

“Oh, I suppose so, Timothy.  No, not yet.  Wait a moment.”

She went to the main door, produced a key from her pocket, and locked it.  She tested the handles to make sure.  She turned to the guests.

“All right, boys,” she said, coolly.  “They’re all yours.”

I could hardly believe my ears.  She was actually turning them loose on us!  I didn’t remember signing up for this.  I think we panicked.  It was not easy to get up, with our movements severely restricted by our chains and mitts, and before we could get off the sofa they were on us.  It seemed they were going to take their pleasure on each of us in turn.  Maddy was the first they grabbed – probably just because she was the nearest.  They carried her by her arms and legs, and threw her on the next sofa.  Clarissa took Pen’s and my leashes in one hand, and pulled us towards it.

“Come on girls, you won’t want to miss this.  Don’t you want to see what they’re going to do to her?”

I hate to admit it, but I really did.  I didn’t want to miss a thing.  Pen tried to pull back, by Clarissa simply lugged her along.  She positioned us behind the back of the sofa. 

“Boys?  Please give Evie room to film, if you want to have a memorable record of proceedings.”

“Yeah, guys,” said Timothy, “let her stand down the end there.  Give her room.”

I watched aghast as dozens of pair of hands explored every inch of Maddy’s body.  They held her feet and shoulders down, and took it in turns to fondle her most sensitive areas.  One young guy dedicated himself to her left nipple, another to her right.  Actually, they weren’t too rough, as I had feared.  They squeezed and pulled and rolled them in their fingers quite gently, eliciting groans of pleasure from their captive.  Timothy himself was applying his efforts to her crotch, massaging her through the rubber with a circular motion..

“Can you feel her dildo, dear?”

“Yes, auntie.  I’m making it move around inside her.  Is it switched on?”

“Not yet.  Shall I activate it, do you think?”

“Yes, please, auntie.”

“All right.  I’ll just put it on thirty pulses for now.”

She took out her phone, and a few seconds later Maddy emitted a surprised moan, arched her back in arousal.  The boys laughed.

“That’s it!  Wow, she likes that all right!” cried one.

“Can you make it fuck her properly, Miss Desborough?” asked someone, eagerly.

“I could, Simon, but I’m not going to…yet.  Let’s take our time, shall we?  We have the whole evening.”

A shy-looking blond boy with red cheeks who was stroking her tummy with one hand and fondling himself with the other, began to get agitated.

“M-miss?  What are we going to do with her…?  I mean, it’s really…you know…exciting…just playing like this…”

“Willy wants to have a proper wank, don’t you Willy?” guffawed someone from the back of the little throng.

“Yeah.  Willy Wanker an’ the spunk factory!” piped up another.

“Honestly, boys, I thought you were mature adults.  But you’re just a bunch of overgrown twelve-year-olds, aren’t you?”

Yes, I thought, and you knew it from the beginning.

“Dear me,” she continued.  “Well if you really want to…do that, you’ll have to put her in the pool.”

“You brought the pool, auntie,” gasped Timothy.  “Where is it?”

“Behind the curtain down there, dear.  It’s all ready, if you insist…”

“We do!”

They were already making for the curtained-off area at the end of the room.  The curtain was dragged aside, and there, behind it, was a blue inflatable swimming-pool!  It was oblong, perhaps two and a half metres long, the sides in three sections, about half a metre high.  It was placed in the middle of a big plastic mat.  It was empty of water.  At first I didn’t understand its function, but it soon became clear.  The struggling Maddy was placed inside it, and then…well,  perhaps the most disgusting spectacle I had ever witnessed.  Led by the appropriately-named Willy, half a dozen of the lads positioned themselves at the sides of the pool, unzipped their trousers, and pulled out their tumescent or semi-tumescent pricks!  And then began, without the slightest appearance of self-consciousness, to masturbate gleefully!  Pen and I turned to each other, and though it was impossible for me to discern her facial expression, I could see by her stance she was frozen with horror.  Then she pressed her arm against mine, as if desperately seeking help to escape.  But of course, that was now impossible.

Of course I too was horrified.  But also, I have to admit, slightly fascinated by the sheer obscenity of what was taking place.  I left Pen’s side and advanced as quickly as my ankle chain would allow towards the pool, and its squirming occupant.  As they pumped away determinedly, encouraged vociferously by their comrades, Clarissa stood to one side, looking on with obvious satisfaction, while Evie knelt at the foot of the pool, intent on capturing every second of the gross spectacle.  I realised that the whole thing must have been pre-planned, even down to the provision of the pool.  Maddy continued to struggle, but with her arms and legs chained, it was impossible for her to rise, and all she succeeded in doing was rolling over onto her tummy.  She had hardly done so when Willy gave an ecstatic cry, and ejaculated copiously over her, his semen splattering her yellow suit.  This event seemed to set the others off, and, to the cheers of the onlookers, they sprayed her with cum from her buttocks to her head.  My heart was thumping with excitement by now, when all at once I felt something stirring deep inside me.  My dildo was starting to pulse, sending waves of pleasure through my body.  I looked at Clarissa.  She held up her phone, and gave me a broad wink.  Trembling with excitement, I allowed my gaze to revert to my friend.  Now she began to struggle even more, slipping about on the floor of the pool, now slick with sperm, but only succeeded in sliding over onto her back.  With a shout of triumph, Timothy grabbed her ankles, holding her face up, while another rank of volunteers stepped forward.  Disregarding her muffled protests, they began to masturbate in their turn, and soon, to the accompaniment of gasps and groans from the participants, and whoops and whistles from their colleagues, she was inundated with repeated deluges of warm, sticky cum! 

I stood there staring, unable to take my eyes off my friend.  My whole body was vibrating, the head of the dildo pulsing softly but relentlessly, the seam of my catsuit pressing against my clitoris.  My breath was coming quickly.  Maddy was comprehensively slimed, the semen trickling stickily down the cones of her breasts, down the smooth yellow dome of her head, lying in little milky pools on her eyepieces and on her tummy.  She had stopped struggling now.  I was transfixed by the sight, intensely aroused, to the extent that I didn’t notice the boys converging on me until it was too late to react.  They picked me up bodily, and lay me in the pool next to Maddy.  They didn’t need to hold me down.  I lay there on my back, my right arm pressed against Maddy’s left, watching mesmerised as two rows of fat, glistening penises, pointed straight at me and not more than a foot or two from my face, were pumped and milked with consummate skill by their experienced owners.  Some of the boys masturbated with desperate abandon, unable to contain their excitement, while others, more circumspect, worked slowly and steadily, determined to elicit as much pleasure as possible from the exercise, and to deliver a commensurate quantity of sperm.  The observers had become quiet now, and seemed as transfixed as I was at this exhibition of sexual potency.  The masturbators efforts were accompanied by stifled groans and sighs, and the pleasant liquid plopping and slapping sounds produced by regular motion of well-lubricated foreskin over glans.  I wondered which of the distended, scarlet heads would erupt first.  The pulsing inside me had increased both in tempo and intensity, and I was trembling with arousal.  I squirmed, thrusting out my breasts, in the hope of inflaming their desire.  If my hands had been free, I would have squeezed my nipples to show them just how randy I was feeling.  But it was not necessary.  The boy closest to my face gave a sudden cry of ecstasy.  A wad of white sperm spurted from the tip of his prick, hitting me just below the nose.  With commendable self-control, he held his penis pointed straight at my face as he unloaded the remainder of his sticky cream all over my head.  Just as with Maddy, the first orgasm set off a chain reaction, and that first emission was immediately complemented by a torrent of warm, sticky cum, the accompanying murmur of approval punctuated by the orgasmic gasps and cries of the participants.  I raised my head and peered through sperm-glazed goggles at the milky blobs now smothering my shiny pink suit, with more raining down.  At the end of the pool I could see a blurred vision of Evie, still coolly filming.  I confess that the realisation that Maddy and I could generate such a degree of lust amongst this crowd of young men, I found gratifying, flattering, and arousing.  My doubts about Clarissa were overshadowed by a new sense of my own sexual power, though I knew it was largely attributable to the potency of the outfits he had supplied. 

By now my whole body was buzzing with a sort of desperate obscene craving.  I longed to slide my hands over my slimy breasts, to revel in the feel of the slippery, sperm-coated latex, but alas, the chains were too short.  Instead, I rolled onto my side and ground my body against Maddy’s, working my nipples against hers.  She responded immediately, sliding one mitt in between my legs, much to the delight of our audience.  Then two things happened simultaneously.  The dildo inside me began to pump back and forth; and the sperm that had landed on my ball gag, which must have been making its way steadily down the breathing hole, began to ooze into my mouth.

In spite of the gag, I made a high-pitched moan of ecstasy, and came explosively, my body convulsing, wracked with spasms of pleasure that felt as if they might go on forever.  Maddy’s orgasm followed mine almost immediately, and we lay there, pressed together cumming and cumming, whimpering with pleasure.  I found out afterwards that Clarissa was synchronising her control of our dildos, hoping to achieve that very outcome! 

At length we slipped apart, completely spent, and lay there in our puddle of semen, unable to move.  A couple of the boys were still wanking over us, and divided their offering between us.  But we didn’t take any notice.  I heard Clarissa’s voice as if in the distance.

“Leave them now, boys.  They’re quite happy there in their pool full of sperm.  I hope you’ve saved some for Penelope!” 

Chapter 15.  Penelope’s Wish Cums True.

“Plenty, auntie C!” I heard Timothy cry. 

Though Maddy and I were quite unable to see over the edge of the pool – even trying to sit up was impossible, on the slimy plastic – I can relate exactly what followed, since it was so expertly filmed by the indefatigable Evie.

Pen had retreated to the far end of the room, and when the whole company turned towards her, half of them with their little penises still peeping out of their pants, she fled with tiny steps into the loo.

Clarissa sighed.  “Wait, boys.  I’ll persuade her to come out.”

She disappeared inside, and a few seconds later reappeared with Pen in tow, pulled along by her leash.

“Here we are.  Penelope was feeling just a little shy – weren’t you, dear?  But no need.  I’ve saved you till last, because you’re quite the prettiest, aren’t you, cutie?”

The boys surged towards her, but Clarissa held up her hand.”

“No, boys, no.  Penelope is far too sweet to be mobbed by you.  Stand back, please.  Thank you.  In any case, I want to ask her a couple of questions.”

“Mmm!” squeaked Pen.

“Oh, of course.  You can’t speak, can you darling.  Dear, dear.  Shall we take that nasty gag out for a minute, then?  Yes?  Okay, let’s do it.”

She produced a set of tiny keys, turned Pen round, and unlocked and unbuckled the gag.  She gently lifted it out of Pen’s mouth.

“There.  Does that feel better?”

“Y-yes, thank you, miss.”

“Good.  Good girl.”  She paused.  “Here, sit on the sofa.  Boys, go and sit at the table, please.  You haven’t even started dessert yet.  Go on.”

Pen sat down.  Clarissa sat next to her.  The boys sat at the table, eating the occasional sweetmeat, but watching Clarissa and Pen, slightly puzzled as to the turn of events.

“I want to cum on her,” whispered one to his neighbour.  “My spunk’s gonna look great on that blue latex!”

“Evie?  Can you get some close-ups of Penelope?  Such a pity we can’t see her pretty face under that latex hood, but never mind.  It has to be.”

“Now, Penelope darling.  I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer me truthfully.  Yes?”

“Yes, miss.  Of course, miss.”

“Good girl.  Now, I understand that when you went to the pub with your friends…you made some comments?  Is that right?”

“C-comments, miss?  No…not really…”

“Oh!  What, you didn’t make any comments?  Not about…the club, for instance?”

“The club, miss?”

“Yes, dear.  The club.  The club we went to.  Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

“Of course, miss…I remember.”

“So you said something.  Tell me what it was you said.”

Pen’s face must have been on fire.  Was Clarissa going to force her to repeat her remarks in front of all those blokes?  She’d die of embarrassment.

“Come on…whisper then…”  Clarissa put her ear close to Pen’s mouth.  Pen whispered something inaudible, even on Evie’s video.

“Is that all?  But didn’t you say, something about really wanting to be Poppy?”

“M-maybe, miss.  But I didn’t mean it…”

“But didn’t you say…”  And here Clarissa whispered something in Pen’s ear, then drew back to look at her.  “Well?  Did you or didn’t you?”

“I may have…”

“Did you…or didn’t you?” said Clarissa, angrily.

Pen hung her head.  “Y-yes, miss.  But I…”

“Didn’t mean it.  You didn’t mean it, Penelope.  But you shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, should you?”

“N-no miss.”

“Right.  So now you’re going to look at the camera, and say what I tell you.  Ready?  Say, “My name is Penelope Harrington.”  Go on.”

“M-my name…”

“No, Penelope.  Loud and clear, please.  In your most refined voice.  Go on.”

“My name is Penelope Harrington.”

“Good.  Well done.  Now…”I love my latex catsuit and my latex hood”.  Go on.”

Pen shuffled her boots uncomfortably on the polished floor.  She took a deep breath.

“I love my latex catsuit and my latex hood.”

“Excellent, Penelope!  Well done!”

“Now say what you said in the pub.  Nice and loud and clear, please.”

“Miss?”

“You heard me.”

“I…I…can’t….I…”

“Have you forgotten?  Just the last bit will do.  You know, “I want my face used as a pussy.  I want my mouth filled up with hot, slimy sperm!”  That’s all.”

Pen gasped, and the boys whooped with delight.

“Get on with it, or I’ll throw you to them right now.”

Pen started to sob.

“Do it Penelope.  In that lovely posh voice of yours.  You have five seconds.”

Pen looked around, but there was no way out.  She began, haltingly.

“I-I want my face…miss, I can’t!”

“You said it happily enough before, dear.  Now say it!  Quiet, boys!”

Pen gulped.  “I…I…”

“Goodness, girl.  Here, I’ll help you.”

She pulled out her phone, touched the screen, and in an instant Pen was yelping and squirming in her seat.

“There.  Is that better?  Does it make the butt plug throb as well.  No?  I’ll turn it up a bit.”

“Miss, please!” Pen screamed.

“So are you going to say it?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll say it.  Please turn it off!”

“I’ll turn it down.  Now, speak.”

In her state of discomfiture, and desperate to be released, Pen blurted out her recollection of what she’d said, which turned out to be even better than the original.

“Oh, miss.  I said I want my mouth used as a pussy.  I want it fucked and fucked, till its full of hot slimy sperm for me to gobble up.  I just want lots and lots of creamy spunk to drink….”  Her voice trailed off.

“Penelope!  That was beautiful!  Well, my dear, you’re going to have your wish.  I’ll leave your dildo on thirty, just to keep you on your toes.  Now, come with me.”

She led Pen by her leash over to the window wall of the room.  Pen went meekly, completely cowed.  Everyone watched, wondering what her plan was.  First Clarissa adjusted her restraints, removing the chains and connecting her wrists to her belt and her ankles together just using carabiners, so she was totally immobilised.  Then she turned to her nephew.

“Timothy?  Over near the pool you’ll find a roll of plastic sheeting.  Bring it here, would  you?”

She unrolled the sheet, which was a couple of metres square, and laid it out abutting the wall.  Then she made Maddy kneel on it, with the heels of her boots up against the wall.  Behind her, at the level of her neck, was a cleat for the curtain pulls.  Clarissa unclipped her leash from the front of her collar, and reattached it to the back.  Then she fixed the loop to the cleat.

“There.  Is that comfortable, Penelope?  Can you move?”

Pen could move her head from side to side, as far as the leash would allow, but that was all.

“Perfect.  Would you like your gag back in?  Yes?  You would?  But how will you gobble up all that lovely spunk?  No, Penelope.  I’m going to let you have just what you asked for!”

She turned to the boys.

“Timothy?  It’s your party.  You should be first.  Especially as you’ve been so self-disciplined so far.”

“No…!” wailed Pen. 

“Great!  Thanks, auntie!  Yes, I’ve saved it up just like you suggested.”

“No!  You can’t.  I won’t…”

“You will, dear.  It’s what you want, remember.  And I’ll increase your dildo pulse rate just a little…so.”   Here Pen stiffened and gasped.  “That should take away some of your inhibitions.”

Timothy, whose penis had been stiffening ever since he began to understand his aunt’s plan, and was now oozing pre-cum, was already in front of her face.  She closed her mouth, but he simply held her nose till it opened again.  He was half way in before she could utter another syllable.  He sighed with pleasure.

“Put your thumbs through the loops on her hood, darling.  Then you’ll be able to hold her still.”

Timothy needed no second bidding.  Holding her head firmly by the loops, he was soon thrusting away at a steady rhythmic pace, Evie kneeling beside him with her camera.  The reinforced circular mouth opening in the hood was a little smaller than the girth of his penis, so it had a useful masturbatory function, drawing back the foreskin at each insertion.  As a result he didn’t last long, and with a cry of “oh, my god!” he pumped all his pent-up semen into Pen’s mouth.  She was swallowing as hard as she could, but even so some of it spurted out of the mouth hole and streamed down her chest.  Timothy slowly withdrew, with a long sigh of pleasure.

“Ooh, auntie.  That was…amazing!”

“No!  It’s not fair!” spluttered Pen, struggling against her leash.  “You can’t do this!  Oh my god, miss, please, please, turn off my dildo for a minute.  I can’t…it’s driving me crazy.  Oh, no, I didn’t sign up to this.  Please stop it.  Please!  I’m gonna tell my mum!  I will!” 

But Clarissa ignored her, busying herself with organising the guests, eager for their turns.  “Listen to me, you bitch!”  But Clarissa just shot her an amused, surprised, glance.  “Language, Penelope, language.  Or I’ll put you dildo on full power.  Evie, are you getting all this?”

“Every word, Miss Desborough.”

“Good.”

There was some dispute about who should be next, but Clarissa made the boys form an orderly queue, with those who hadn’t already unloaded over us given priority.  Several times Pen tried to twist her head aside, but once the guy got his thumbs in those loops, she was powerless to resist.  It was when the third volunteer shot his load into her mouth that she had her first dildo-induced orgasm, evinced by a sudden convulsion followed by a series of after-shocks.  Clarissa was playing with her phone, and I suspect she was controlling the level of Pen’s arousal.  After the fifth or sixth volunteer had fed her his sperm, and sticky strings of it were hanging from her chin, she seemed to give up all resistance, and opened her mouth submissively for the next.  But some of the boys were too excited to wait their turn, so Clarissa gave them permission to stand at either side of her and cum over her head, or bring themselves off against her cheeks. 

She must have swallowed a pint of cum that evening, and had another pint discharged over her body.  There is little doubt the throbbing dildo made her more amenable that she would otherwise have been, but it also made her more resentful of the humiliation Clarissa had heaped upon her.  By the time everyone had used her to satisfy themselves, she was a sorry sight.  Her tight latex hood and shoulders were glazed with a slimy layer of translucent cum.  The face of the hood was likewise covered, with a thick sticky lather adhering around the mouth, where the sperm from many pricks had been whipped into a cream by the urgent climactic thrusts against the rubber circle.  I doubt she could see through her goggles any more.  Sticky strings were hanging and swinging from her mouth hole, her chin, the sides of her head, and her breasts.  She was kneeling in a pool of slime.  Evie was still filming.

Pen was swallowing convulsively, as if she were in danger of throwing up.  Clarissa bent down solicitously.

“Do try to keep it down, darling.  It’s very good for you, you know.”

“Miss….”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can I….would you…let me free now?”

“Well I don’t see why not, Penelope.  But first I think Timothy wants to give you a little treat.  Don’t you darling?”

“Yes, auntie.”  His friends were smirking as he went to the table and picked up a little plate.  He carried it back to where Pen was kneeling, and placed it front of her.  She stared at it.

“What is it?” she said, weakly.

Timothy squatted down.  On the plate was a chocolate éclair from the dessert.

“It’s a very special éclair, just for you, from me and a couple of my friends who still had some spunk left.  We took out most of the cream and filled it for you ourselves.”  He picked it up and offered it to her.

“Timothy…I couldn’t…”

“Now, now, Penelope.  Manners.  The boys made is specially for you.  Look at that lovely thick chocolate on top!  How could you not want that?” smirked Clarissa.  “I’m afraid I shall have to insist, or we’ll all go home and leave you here for the hotel staff to attend to.”

Clarissa was really enjoying her revenge.  “Here, I’ll help you.”  She took the pastry from her nephew and presented it to Pen’s mouth, forcing her to take bite after bite till she’d swallowed the whole thing.  Evie recorded every mouthful.

“Now, I think it only remains for you to thank the boys for their…generosity…and then I see no reason why we shouldn’t release you

Pen hesitated.  But she knew she was in no position to object.

“Thank you…boys.”

“Well, say it like you mean it, Penelope.  You should say, “Thank you for all your delicious sperm, boys.”

Pen sighed.  “Thank you for all your delicious sperm, boys.”

“I really enjoyed sucking your pricks.”

“I…really enjoyed sucking your pricks….”

“I hope you’ll let me do it again soon.”

“I hope you’ll let me do it again…soon.”

“I love semen so much, I can’t get enough of it.”

“I love semen so much, I can’t get enough of it.”

“There.  That wasn’t difficult, was it.  Now, boys?  Would you take Penelope and put her with her friends, in the sperm pool?  I think Evie would like to have some final shots of all three together.”

Chapter 16.  An Offer She Can’t Refuse.

We spent another fifteen minutes or so together in the pool, wallowing helplessly in sticky, congealing sperm, before we were finally allowed to go and clean ourselves up.  From inside the shower room we could hear the boys, who were still drinking, chatting loudly, and every now and then a burst of uproarious laughter.

Pen was feeling sick, and she was very angry.

“Why did you tell her that stupid stuff I said.  Why would you do that?”

“We didn’t want to,” I explained.  “She made us.  I didn’t know what she was dreaming up.  In any case, Pen, it was you – you and your uncle Ralph – who got us into this thing in the first place.”

“She’s a perverted, sadistic bitch.  I’m finished with this.  Tomorrow I’m gonna find a new job.  I don’t give a shit about the money.”

Maddy and I exchanged glances.  We wondered whether she’d feel the same in the morning.

On the way home in the limo, we didn’t have much to say, but Clarissa chatted happily.

“And you’ll be pleased to know I managed to get you a double bonus for tonight.  Four hundred each.”

“Wow,” I said.  “Really?  How did you…?”

“I said if they ever wanted to see you guys again, they should show their appreciation.  They can afford it.”

“Thanks, miss,” said Maddy.  “That’s an insane amount of money…”

“You think money’s everything,” said Pen, sulkily.  “What you did to me tonight…”

“What I did is what you wanted to do but couldn’t admit to yourself.”

“No.  That’s not true!”

“I think it is.”

“Well I’m not doing it any more.”

“So you don’t want to stay in my employ?”

“Well…maybe I don’t….”

“I see.  Well, tomorrow I have a busy morning.  So could I ask you all to come in the afternoon – say two-thirty – for your pay?  And we’ll sort things out then, Penelope.”

We all met up at two the following day.  Maddy and I were desperate to know if Pen was going to stay with us or leave.  We were staying.  The money was too good to walk away from.

“So, Pen…what are you going to do?”

“I’ve tried to get in touch with Ralph, but now his phones not even connected.  It’s like he handed us over to her and disappeared.  I’ve decided, anyway.  I’m going to give her an ultimatum.  Either she guarantees – in writing – that she will have to ask my permission for every event, and tell me exactly what’s involved, or – or I’ll quit!”

“Do you think she’ll agree to that?” asked Maddy.

“No idea.  Anyway, it’s up to her.  But I don’t think she wants to lose me.”

“Neither do I,” I said.  “Seems to me she’s got a bit of a thing about you.”

“Shut up, Lettie.”

Clarissa was waiting for us at the office with three fat brown envelopes.

“There’s your pay, girls – six hundred and forty pounds, with the bonuses.  Well done.”

We stowed the envelopes away in our bags.

“Now, your next engagement…”

“Miss?  Piped up Pen.  “I want to talk about yesterday.”

“Yes, Penelope?”  Clarissa regarded her with a faint supercilious smile on her face.

“In future I want guarantees about what is required of me.  Written guarantees.  And if I don’t like it, I won’t do it.”

“I see…and if I decline?”

“Then I quit,” she said, defiantly.

“I think I understand, Penelope.  But before we go any further, may I show you something?  Here, come into my office.”

We followed her to a small office off the main room.  There were four chairs arranged in a row, and a monitor on the desk.

“Take a seat, girls.  Now, my friend Evie did a splendid job yesterday.  She’s not only a very accomplished photographer, but an accomplished editor too.  She worked all the morning to produce a full-length video of the…ah...proceedings, but at my request she also made a shorter one…of you alone, Penelope.”

Pen looked aghast.

“Shall we watch it?”  She clicked the mouse.  It began.

The titles came up: “Penelope Harrison, Professional Hostess. Eighteen Years Old.”

They faded into the video Clarissa had taken when we first came to her.  Pen, in her school uniform, on the catwalk, smiling and twirling, even curtseying.  Voice over, (Evie’s), “Penelope was still at school when she decided on her chosen career – a party hostess.  But not just an ordinary hostess.  Cut to video of Pen in her latex catsuit, the first time she wore it.  “Penelope had decided to embark on a career as a fetish hostess, dressed in a figure-hugging, eye-catching latex catsuit!  She chose blue to go with her pretty blonde hair.”  I took a sideways peep at Pen.  She was aghast, open-mouthed, speechless.  Cut to film of the wedding, Pen hooded, waiting on the guests.  “Penelope was already demonstrating the lengths to which she was prepared to go to attract the attention of potential clients.  After this, her very first event, her name went into the notebooks of many admirers.  Soon, she became in demand not only for conventional engagements, but for something more edgy.  Here is Penelope at ‘The Pit’, a well-known sex club, in full bondage gear, assisting in the floor show.  An important part of her apprenticeship, but it seems she is already skilled in assisting the ‘members’ with their preparations!  Oh!  Whoops!  Perhaps my remark was a bit premature – like that guy.  Lucky she’s all encased in lovely latex!”   

“No!” cried Pen.

“Shh, Penelope.  The best is yet to come.”

“But her earlier exploits pale into insignificance compared to those at her most recent engagement: a stag party.  Here, her engagement with the guests became…shall we say, a little more intimate…”  Cut to Pen on the sofa…  “My name in Penelope Harrington…I love my latex catsuit and my latex hood…I want my mouth used as a pussy.  I want it fucked and fucked, till its full of hot slimy sperm for me to gobble up.  I just want lots and lots of creamy spunk to drink…”

Evie had certainly done her editing with consummate skill…and Clarissa had known just what she was doing, getting Pen to articulate certain well-chosen phrases.

“And Penelope suited the action to the word, first with the host…”  Cut to Pen with Timothy…  “Then to the guests…”  We watched, not without arousal, as the entire episode was played out.  No memorable orgasm seemed to be omitted, not the boys’, not Pen’s.  “But she received her reward from a grateful clientele…”  Cut to the totally slimed Pen being fed a sperm éclair.  “And for her part, Penelope was equally grateful for the guests’…input.”  Cut to Pen, smothered with sperm: “Thank you for all your delicious sperm, boys…I really enjoyed sucking your pricks…I hope you’ll let me do it again…soon…I love semen so much, I can’t get enough of it.”  Cut to Pen just before the arrival of the guests, sitting on the sofa.  “Penelope is determined to pursue her chosen occupation with vigour and dedication, and it is certain her special skills and undeniable talent will continue in great demand….”  Fade out.

“There.  What do you think, darling?  We were considering adding our contact details at the end, but to be honest, we already have a queue of clients.”

Poor Pen was beside herself with anger and shame.  “You…you…you fucking…what…why…?”

“Well, Penelope, if you do leave us, I think this would be a nice memento.  Though I had also considered, in lieu of penalties, of selling it on.  There are several suitable websites…”

“No!  Don’t you dare!  You’ve used my face an’ everything!”

“Well, I doubt if your mother would see it.  I mean, I’m sure she doesn’t look at such places online…though I suppose she might hear about it…”

Poor Pen was trembling all over.  There was silence for some moments.

“What do you want?”

“Penelope, please…”

“What do you want?”

“Well, dear,” said Clarissa, quietly, “I was hoping…you would stay with us, and work alongside your friends.”

“And if I don’t, you publish that…thing?”

“I’m afraid I might have to.  But the choice is entirely yours.  However, if you do choose to stay” – here her voice became suddenly icy – “if you do stay, you will in future do exactly what you’re told, without demur.  Understand?  Understand?”

“Yes…miss.”

Clarissa relaxed and smiled.  “Good.  Linda has copies of both films for each of you.  And Penelope?”

“Yes, miss?”

“You’ll be pleased to hear I’ve had a word with Ilse, and she thinks you’d be a perfect candidate for her next show!”