The building hosting the party was in an industrial part of town, an old cloth cutting factory that had once cut more fabric than any other in the country but was now used for a much more… private purpose. The building’s bricks were crumbling and I could see several panes of glass were broken. It might have looked incredible at some point in time but now it just looked decrepit.
I arrived around midnight, dressed in the required black suit, white shirt, and black tie. I knocked on the building’s giant oak door only for the mail slit to open up. A deep and rough voice asked for the password, to which I replied: “In the shadows of luxury forever lurks debauchery.” The door opened and I entered into an anti-chamber.
Two burly security guards dressed in navy sports jackets and grey pants greeted me and searched me for any contraband. From what I’d been told, the identity of the participants was to be protected and discretion, absolutely required. To that end, cellphones and other recording devices were to be seized and destroyed. Finding none on me, they opened the door leading further into the building and wished me a good evening.
The inside of the building shared none of the wear the outside had; in fact, it looked as though someone had spent a lot of money renovating and restoring everything they could. I had imagined the building to be one large floor where the cutting had occurred set alongside a few small offices and perhaps a lunchroom but I was completely off. The interior had more in common with a luxurious hotel: a long hallway with various rooms spread out at regular intervals, plush carpet on the floor, walls plastered with fancy-looking wallpaper, slightly dimmed lights creating a relaxed ambience. At the end of the hallway, I saw two doors opening into what looked like a main room of sorts that had guests walking about.
As I strutted down the hallway, my shoes thunderously announcing my approach, I peered into one of the rooms and saw a naked older man on all fours in front of a gorgeous woman dressed in a beautiful black evening dress. I stopped for a moment to enjoy the show: as he crawled nearer to her, she pushed him back with her pantyhose-clad feet and laughed maniacally. I was definitely in the right place.
I continued my way and finally entered the main room and was assaulted by the combined smells of expensive perfume, spilled alcohol, sweat, and sex. The room was filled with men and women but several dress codes were evidently in effect. Many people were completely naked save for words like “whore”, “pig”, and “slut” scribbled on their skin in lipstick or permanent marker. They were all on the floor, crawling about as though forbidden from standing upright. There were men and women dressed in fetish gear of all sorts: vinyl dresses and rubber suits, lacy lingerie and tight leather underwear. All of them wore collars and were allowed to walk around and seemed to have much more freedom than the naked subs. In the shadows of the room lurked security guards in their navy jackets and pants, carefully observing the party for any hint of foul play. And standing out from among everyone, were the dominants dressed to the nine.
The dominants were the clear minority in this setting but clearly that was no impediment to the power they had; the entire room seemed to orbit around their every whim. The naked subs seemed to be competitively humiliating themselves in order to stand out to the dominants. At present, a group of three naked men were seeing who could cum the quickest for a taunting master, two naked women were backing themselves into a double-ended dildo for the pleasure of cruel mistress, a young naked woman was tasked with seducing a lingerie-clad older man who was forbidden from touching her by his master. I smiled, happy to have missed the awkward beginnings of such a delectable party.
A woman security guard carrying a guest list got my attention and confirmed my identity before informing me that due to my lateness, I would have to be briefed on the rules of engagement for the party. I smiled as I followed her into a room where the head security guard, Alan, met me and shook my hand. He was a large fellow, much bigger than I but of about the same height. As we sat down on chairs, he started: “You’ve been invited to this private gathering because of your abilities, your proclivities, your looks, and your… ability for discretion. Some of the attendants of the party are important people, people with reputations that they must uphold. That is my job: protecting them and their reputation at all costs. I and all the men and women here will, of course, protect you and your reputation though if the attendant’s come first. I like being so blunt about this point because I need you to know it. Understood? Good.
“Now, to the rules of engagement: You must’ve noticed the various states of dress of the attendants and guessed at what they mean. At the lowest level are the nakeds: they are “unowned”, submissives who have yet to be collared. They are free to play with who they wish but can’t stand upright, they can’t even walk. They have the freedom of an animal so they must play the part. As a dominant, you are allowed to do to them as you wish unless they say the safe word, “coal”. Once they say “coal”, you are expected to stop. If you don’t, my guards will make you leave and you won’t ever be allowed to return. Now, these nakeds don’t have to ever properly submit to a dominant and they must choose to be owned so don’t start having any ideas of claiming them all on your first party.
“Next, are the “owned” subs. They can easily be identified by the collars they must wear at all times. These subs are permitted to wear clothes at the discretion of each’s mistress or master. In the context of this party, they are the property of their respective masters and mistresses and are to be treated as such. You are not allowed to molest another’s property without permission but neither is anyone else allowed to play with any sub you may collar without your say. These subs are above the animalistic nakeds, having ascended through ownership and so are allowed to walk as a human. Having chosen to serve and be owned, these subs also have another important power; they can relinquish themselves from ownership at any point. If they choose to be disowned, they must remove their collar and strip themselves once again.
“Then, are the dominants. Your group is dressed in black suits, evening gowns, and dresses. No one can touch or play with a dominant without their permission. All subs are forbidden from looking at a dominant in the eye unless ordered to, they must also beg for your permission to speak with you. Each of the dominants here tonight owns at least one sub, and we expect you to collar one by the end of the party. If you are unsuccessful in charming your way to ownership, we simply won’t invite you back. The hosts of these parties have discerning tastes and are paying quite large sums in order to avoid disappointment. I don’t think you’ll have too much of a problem with that though, you were invited by one of the nakeds.
“We have a fully stocked bar, a complete collection of every intoxicant known to man, and emergency medical personnel on standby. We also have a variety of rooms containing all the… equipment and costumes you may need for your enjoyment. Any questions? No? Great, now back to the party: you have some new friends to meet.”
I returned to the room and smiled. I had to make myself known here, I had to earn my right to be invited to return.
And I was dead set on earning that right.
Check in next week for part 2 of The Guest.