Suburban Bliss

Part VI: The dinner party

With Claire's help, Madam and Steve expanded their circle of friends considerably. Compared to their old friends, this was a new, different kind of people entirely. What connected them were their libertarian views and free spirits, their interesting walks of life and an insatiable appetite for unusual sexual experiences. They built up this new network very slowly, one at the time, to make sure that whoever they let into their house and their lives could be trusted. Discretion was highly valued, they didn't take any chances. But their new friends had strong ethics, and most of them had far too much to lose themselves to even consider some kiss and tell story. What happened at Madam's, stayed at Madam's.

About once a month Madam organised a dinner party. She would invite about eight to twelve guests, mostly couples, sometimes a few single people as well. Claire would supervise the kitchen and the waitresses, all staffed by Madam's trainee girls. Even the cook was a slavegirl. One day Madam had lunch at a slightly alternative but very good restaurant, when the chef came out of the kitchen briefly to talk to the customers, as chefs sometimes do. This one was female, in her late twenties, arms and shoulders and who knew where else full of tattoos. Madam watched her going from table to table, and by the time she reached hers it took Madam no more than a minute to seduce her. She had recognised the girl immediately as a sub, even though she looked and behaved all cool and self assured. Underneath the punk style toughness she found a very beautiful woman and an incredibly gentle soul. Two months later she quit her job at the restaurant and started to work full time for Madam and Steve. Whether she cooked for two or two hundred people, the food was always fantastic. All their friends knew that when you had a meal at Madam's, the food, and the wine, would be impeccable.

What made the dinner parties at Madam and Steve truly memorable however, was the entertainment. Without exception Madam would find a creative way to make it a memorable night. The only certainty was that, one way or another, it would involve sex and submission. Many special nights were held at their place. Getting an invitation was in some circles almost seen as some holy grail.

This evening there were four couples, ranging in age from late twenties to early sixties. Among them were Robert and Polly. Both of them in their mid fifties, they were professors at the university, he in english literature and she in chemistry. Claire had taken a course in english literature a few years back and had ended up having an affair with Robert. It was an open secret in academic circles that Robert had an affair with a different student each academic year. As soon as he discovered Claire in the back of the large lecture hall on the day classes started in September, he knew she was going to be his muse that year. Polly knew about Claire, and about all the other students before her. They had a completely open marriage. In fact, Polly did the same, but was much more discreet about it. She too carefully selected a handsome student each year for fun and games. She loved being fucked by her young studs. “It keeps me young at heart and body”, she'd say as she compared notes with Robert. Theirs was the house with the thousands of books Claire used to look after during their holidays, reading one after the other. Long after the affair with Robert was over, Claire remained friends with both of them. And slept with them sometimes. They were among the first people Claire had introduced to Madam.

It had been a lovely evening. Dinner conversation had been animated and lively, ranging from international politics to the philosophical insights of Winnie de Pooh. The food was great, as always. This evening it was served by two of Madam's gorgeous slavegirls, and, quite unusually,  two of Polly's former lovers. Madam had asked Polly if any of her toyboys would be into this kind of thing, and she immediately delivered. They were strikingly handsome, the one blond and sturdy and the other more Mediterranean, with olive skin, black hair and mysterious dark eyes. The two girls were Madam's current trainees, a coffee coloured ballroom dancer from Brazil and a rather shy girl with light skin and beautiful red hair. Later that evening, the four of them, and Claire, were going to be handed out as live take away gifts, each of them going home with one of the couples for a night of unbridled threeway sex. But the guests didn't know that yet.

The boys and girls were dressed in Roman style tunics. No underwear. The guests had been a bit touchy-feely with them all night, caressing bare legs and hands sliding underneath the tunics when they served the food and drinks. But other than that nothing untoward had happened, and as coffee was being served some of the regulars were beginning to wonder if there would be any entertainment at all that night.

Just when that thought popped up in some of the heads around the table, all lights went out. It was pitch dark for a few moments. Then a few spotlights were switched on, illuminating a path from the short end of the table all the way to the back of the room, some 15 yards or so. At the end stood a beautiful young woman, with oriental features and long, curly, raven black hair. She wore a trenchcoat, black stockings and six inch heels. When all eyes were focussed on her, she started walking towards the table as if she were on a catwalk, with determined steps, each foot carefully placed in front of the other, swaying her hips. Reaching the table, she looked at the dinner guests seductively, turned around and walked back, making sure all eyes were glued to her stunning ass. When she reached the spot she had started from, she slowly opened the trenchcoat, her back towards the guests, let it slide from her shoulders and threw it to a side. Underneath she wore an elegant grey skirt and a white blouse. She turned and walked to the guests again, striking a pose as she got to the table. She waited a few seconds to ensure everyone had a good look at her, then made another turn and slowly strode back to her starting point. Next she took off her blouse. When she turned once more, the guests were treated with a view of her gorgeous breasts, held together by a black lace see-through bra. She walked back to the table, her breasts bouncing ever so slightly. She stood still for few seconds again, all eyes glued on her tits. Then she turned once more and continued her striptease in the guise of a catwalk run, one by one taking off the skirt, her bra and her string, until she finally stopped at the table and waited. All she was wearing now were suspenders, her stockings and the heels.

Madam allowed the guests a few moments to examine her fantastic body. Her name was Layla, a lingerie model with Lebanese roots. Madam had discovered her at a lingerie fashion show. Her Arabian nights aura, with the mysterious black eyes, had fascinated but not fooled her: this was a girl in dire need of some discipline. Layla had spent the last six months at Madam and Steve's and had only just left the house a few weeks ago to live by herself again. She was very happy to be back this evening.

Her instructions had been to do the catwalk striptease and then wait for things to happen, so she didn't have any idea what would be next. The two boys were sitting on one knee on either side of her. They each put a bracelet around her anckle and tied them with a short chain to the legs of the table, spreading her legs and offering the guests an even better view of her cleanly shaven pussy. Out of habit she had crossed her arms behind her back, pushing out her fabulous tits. Then she waited.

Everybody was watching her, mesmerized by her beauty, so none of the guests noticed the man approaching from the other side. When he jumped on the table with a loud bang, they all got a fright. One of the women shrieked, and all of them turned their heads at the same time, as if they were watching a tennis match. On top of the opposite end of the long dinner table stood a stocky body builder, naked and oiled up, muscles flexing, his penis rock hard. He stood there like a Greek statue, making sure they all got a good view, especially the women. Then he walked slowly across the table towards Layla, his hard-on pointing at her, guiding him in the right direction. He stopped when his cock was inches away from her face. She got the hint. She placed her hands on his hips and opened her mouth. She bent forward a little and placed her red lips around the head of his not so long but exceptionally thick cock. Body builder arrogantly tapped the back of her head. The guests on the other end of the table moved their chairs so they could properly watch this little spectacle. They were not disappointed. Layla licked his shaft up and down, sucked his shaven balls, took his cock in her mouth like a cob of corn, massaged him gently, using her hands in all the right ways, licked the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue, took him in the back of her throat, and on and on, taking him to the brink of orgasm and then holding him back. She gave him a blowjob as if he were the love of her life, with all her heart and love and of course her immaculate skills. As she was sucking him off, she looked up at him with those dark eyes in which he nearly drowned, even when a couple of times he held her head and roughly fucked her face. Every time, after holding him back with her hand tight around the base of his shaft, she took his excitement a little further until at last with a loud groan he ejaculated a huge load on her face and tits. The expression on her face was one of complete happiness. She licked and swallowed as much cum as she could reach with her tongue. Then the body builder turned around and left as suddenly as he had appeared, jumped off the table with another loud bang and disappeared into the darkness. Layla was left with lots of semen still on her gorgeous breasts and face, waiting for what would come next.

She didn't have to wait long. At the end of the catwalk, where Layla had started her striptease, another figure appeared. It was a blonde woman, short haired, very tall. Her height was accentuated even more by her ridiculously high heeled, knee high leather boots. On top of that she wore a short latex pencil skirt and a a leather corset that only just covered the nipples of her enormous breasts, which were pushed high up. She had several tribal tattoos on her arms and shoulders. She looked downright scary. The woman walked the catwalk in a similar way as Layla had done, but slower, much slower, making sure each click of her towering heels was heard. Some of the women around the table gasped as she approached, as if they were irrationally fearing it might be them this menacing woman was coming for. The dominatrix stopped right behind Layla, who still couldn't see her. She did see the expressions on the faces of the guests however, who looked at the woman behind her in awe, and a little fear.

The dominatrix started to caress Layla's body with her fingers. First her back, her fingertips lightly touching the Middle Eastern girl's olive skin. Then her hands went around to her stomach, gliding over her vulva and up to her breasts. She was whispering little sentences in Layla's ear, her leather corset now touching the girl's back. Those who were sitting close enough could hear fragments of what she was saying to the girl: unveiled threats, descriptions of how badly she was going to hurt her.

“Soon you will beg for mercy,” she whispered. “I will tear your cute little tits off. ”

The dominatrix was by now using her long, red finger nails. Slowly long, red marks were beginning to appear on the girl's skin. She was grinding her hips against Layla's ass. She squeezed her tits hard, using her big hands to grab the base of Layla's breasts, deliberately hurting her some more. The pain was beginning to show on Layla's face. Suddenly dominatrix yanked Layla's long black hair down and sideways and kissed her hard on her mouth. All of a sudden the two were passionately kissing, although dominatrix' hands and nails were still making traces on Layla's skin. Still holding her hair, she dug the nails of her free hand deep into the nipple of Layla's left breast. The girl's squeal was muffled as their mouths were still locked. Dominatrix continued to torture the girl with her fingernails. She spent a particularly long time on Layla's labia, spreading her small cunt lips and digging her nails into them, from the outside as well as from the tender inside. Tears of pain were running down her cheeks and her body was full of deep red scratch marks.

When the dominatrix finally stopped, she looked at her audience for the first time. Madam had a bemused look on her face, clearly enjoying herself. The others seemed fascinated as well. The two boys and girls were standing between the guests. One of the women was openly, albeit absent mindedly, playing with the latin boy's half erect cock, slowly jerking him off. A man had laid his hand on the red haired girl's ass and left it there.

Dominatrix moved Layla's hands above her head. Then she grabbed her hair again, and slowly pushed her forward until she had draped her upper body on the table, her face to one side, arms stretched out in front of her, her legs still straight and tied to the table. Blond boy handed dominatrix an elbow length leather glove, which she put on her right hand. The fingers of the glove were cut, making her long red nails stick out. Next the boy gave her a very large, black dildo. She proceeded to screw the dildo onto the glove, right at her knuckles. Then she made a fist, and with a sadistic smile showed to her audience that the big dildo was now an extension of her arm. As if it wasn't clear enough what the next step was going to be, she made a few fistfucking movements over poor Layla's head. She positioned herself behind the girl, slapped her ass a few times with her other hand, and spread her ass cheeks wide. She put the colossal dildo at the entrance of Layla's pussy and began to push. When the girl realized how big this thing was, spreading her tight pussy beyond anything she had experienced before, her eyes opened wide. Dominatrix didn't take any prisoners. With the help of a little lubricant she quickly managed to push the dildo deep into Layla's pussy, ignoring the cries of agony from the girl. When it was in, she made sure to stand firmly on her feet, and began to mercilessly fuck the girl, fast and hard, her fist banging against Layla's pussy and ass. Stomping her. The more Layla suffered, the more dominatrix liked it. Her face lit up in ecstacy, as if she were having an orgasm right there. Perhaps she was. A few times it looked as if Layla was trying to get up, but Madam reached out before she could move and roughly pushed her down. To Layla it seemed to last forever, but in fact it was only after 10 minutes when dominatrix pulled out the dildo.

But she wasn't done yet. Next she placed the tip of the dildo against Layla's asshole. Before she even moved, the girl began to whimper loudly. “Oh no, please, not there!”

“Stop whining, you little cunt!”, dominatrix hissed. “Or I'll give you something to really scream about!”

Layla fell silent. Blond boy squirted some massage oil on Layla's ass and the dildo. And then she pushed again. The dildo, extending from her fist, made it look extra brutal. Slower this time, she twisted and turned and pushed the dildo into Layla's asshole. Layla had been fucked in her ass before, it had obviously been part of her training, but never by anything this huge. Her tight sphincter was stretched and stretched until finally it gave in. With a cry of victory dominatrix pushed the dildo in, with a cry of pain Layla responded. Another ten minutes of pain and humiliation followed, dominatrix fucking the girl's ass as hard and ruthlessly as she had fucked her pussy. Each time she rammed the dildo into Layla's tight hole, her fist banged full force against her buttocks, the impact nearly lifting her off her feet at times. Layla was clearly suffering immensely, her mouth open in agony, giving a desperate little squeal each time the giant dildo was rammed into her asshole. Then suddenly it was all over. Dominatrix pulled out one last time, waved the dildo proudly at the guests, turned around and was gone. Layla was still draped over the table, bathing in sweat, panting heavily, her face covered in tears and left over cum from the body builder.

Madam left her there for a moment. She faced her guests and asked in a light voice, as if nothing had happened: “Anyone for some more coffee?” They looked at her as if they had to awake from a trance. The one female guest was still holding latin boy's now rock hard cock, the girl with the red hair was standing in between a couple and had two fingers up her pussy.

“Yeah, I'll have some more please,” one of them said.

“Oh, and while she's here,” Madam said, pointing at Layla with and indifferent gesture of her hand, “if any of you guys, or girls for that matter, would like to have a go at her, be my guest...”

They needed no further encouragement. The man who had been fingering little redhead jumped up and stepped behind Layla, opened his pants and started to fuck her. One of the women climbed on the table, pulled up her skirt, lied down on her back and as she glided towards her, offering her bare pussy to Layla's face.

The next man took off his belt and whipped Layla's ass and back a few dozen times, while at the same time one of the women stroked her face and hair ever so gently and whispered sweet words to her. They all took turns, while the others were gathered around the table, drinking their coffee and chatting as if nothing unusual was going on, the atmosphere a bit surreal.

At the end of the evening all couples were given one of the boys or girls to take home for the night. Like goody bags at a children's party. Robert and Polly had laid a claim on the Brazilian girl, latin boy went home with the woman who had been jerking him off, and the little redhead was given to the couple who had been playing with her during the show. Most of them didn't sleep until morning.