Group Sex Bishop Takes Knight

The roof of the dark limousine was spattered and spotted with bits of a light rain that started to fall early that Saturday evening as the car left the West End and turned south. It wasn't really enough for the driver to want to turn on the wipers; they'd merely streak the windshield and make things harder to see. He decided to leave them off and use them when it got worse. It never did. The cloudy night threatened to rain hard but never made good on its promise and it certainly didn't stop restless Londoners from being "out and about" for an otherwise pleasant June evening; crowding along the streets and the at crosswalks.

The rain did nothing to dampen the collective sense of anticipation for the three passengers seated elegantly in the rear of the car either. The atmosphere inside the back of the limo was a heady mood of expectation and promise. This was to be an evening to remember and like all evenings involving Annette Bishop; it was an evening to be forgotten and most certainly - never mentioned!

What happened you see; in the clubs of London, the salons of Paris, the floorshows of Amsterdam and Hamburg, the hotels of Tokyo, and in this case; the posh home of her friend Anika in Surrey -- damned well stayed there! Bradley Knight and Shelby, his pint-sized pixie sidekick were keenly aware of that fact. They sat on either side of Annette; their maven of carnal mayhem, as the sleek black car drove them quietly through the streets to a "quiet get-together."

The night before the three had nearly brought the roof down on Anika's club with their high-charged antics that culminated with Shelby and Annette servicing several men and Brad bumming the midget-barmaid Penelope; all actions taking place through cleverly constructed glory-holes beneath one of the club's bars. Anika of course knew a good thing when she'd seen it and she not only invited her old friend Annette to attend her "hyper-party" this evening; she absolutely insisted that Annette "please bring her two cubs," for an enjoyable evening at her country house in Surrey.

Knowing what a swirling cauldron of wanton debauchery that something so simple as a mere dinner at Anika's could be; well, the prospect of a hyper-party at the estate was simply too much to say, "some other time perhaps?" She accepted right there on the spot before she then she took her cubs home to her West-End flat and shagged them to sleep with the help of her maid Felicia; all four people ending up in a completely spent heap of lovely naked flesh and post-clubbing unconsciousness!

Annette and the cubs had slept late that day. It was Felicia the maid who was the first to stir. She silently padded her delectably naked Spanish bum from the room and put together a breakfast for the boss and her two interns.

When the three sleepyheads finally acknowledged that it was indeed Saturday morning and that they could no-longer ignore the daylight creeping in between the blinds, they resorted to one of the tried and truest cures for a bad "morning-after head"; a good howling three-way fuck. Since the time of the ancient Romans; it was well known that good solid morning shagging was a sure-fire cure for a hangover and Annette it seemed was a fan of old remedies. As Felicia stepped through the door with the breakfast tray (clothed only in her earrings from the night before), the scene that met her was nothing short of spectacular!

Apparently when Annette had finally stirred, she glanced over at young Brad and saw he'd one of those pieces of morning wood between his legs that would have been the envy of any Brazilian logging firm. It was a veritable monolith; a stark prominent "Bone-Henge" pushing up the bed sheets (and worthy of a BBC documentary as far as Annette was concerned). No sense letting it go to waste!

She immediately went to work upon him with hands lips and tongue. He roused in rather good order as the stunningly beautiful brunette with her short head of raven-black hair clamped lips and jaw upon him; sucking him fully awake. In no time at all, he'd flipped over on top of her and given her a lovely hard rogering; pinning her to the mattress and giving her the "good-morning crushing poke" between the legs that she sooo desired.

She came; he hadn't yet. She looked over at the still slumbering Shelby and then back at him suggestively with her eyes. She was a bad-bad girl when she had a mind to be!

A minute later the two were mounted atop Shelby; the girl lying on her back with Annette riding the pan-sexual little pixie's pretty face as if it were a bicycle seat and Brad pounding his proud piece of pork into the girl's pouty pink poo-pucker. Annette held Shelby's ankles aloft like two elegant handle-bars as Brad leaned forward; his lips finding Annette's in a warm sucking kiss that was laden with sexual hunger and energy. Annette responded with a heartfelt moan of passionate appreciation... any man could fuck but a good kisser was a true find!

He didn't merely kiss her; he made love to her mouth with his lips teeth and tongue. With one hand she caressed his face, graciously receiving his delicious mouth upon hers. She then remembered her other cub who was supping down below so hungrily. She dropped her free hand down to Shelby's vacant pussy for a torrid finger-fucking to show her lovely Sapphic disciple that her attentions were "most appreciated indeed!"

What her fingers felt inside the girl's cunt was nothing short of exquisitely hot and horny! On the other side of Shelby's puss-wall Annette could feel every veiny thrust of Bradley Knight's cock as her young stud plowed himself up into the girl's arsehole with forceful vigor! It was then Annette's eyes caught sight of the beautifully nude maid with the breakfast tray and she pulled away from her smooch with Brad to say,

"Oh good Felicia, set that over there please," motioning to a side table with her pretty black haired noggin. The maid did as requested by her lady and she started to spin to leave the room but Annette then finished her sentence with, "and join us dear!"

If the scene's beginning had been spectacular, its ending was nothing short of epic! It ended as many scenes did with Annette. There was a yell of OOOHHH YEEESSSS! by some happy member of the party, followed by a chorus of AAAGGGHHs and OH GOD OH GOD OH GODs from other equally enthusiastic participants; all amid a great deal of heated thrashings and splashings. The aftermath resembled a Napoleonic battlefield; with dramatically twisted bodies littering the scene; with chests heaving and appearing to draw last gasps in the post climactic stillness. All they needed now was a tattered banner lying nearby and a bugler far off in the distance calling for a retreat.

Afterwards, following a delightfully boisterous breakfast; four naked bums plopped into Annette's oversized garden tub for a little rub n' scrub cleanup. As soapy brushes swirled around naked bodies and bubbles danced upon the ends of noses, Annette received a text on her phone from Anika. She took the message then stared into the bubbles thinking hard. She lifted her face upward to Brad and Shelby with an announcement, her lips forming a happy smile as she spoke. She'd decided it was time for her handsome intern Brad to have his first taste of responsibility as a special projects officer.

"Brad," she said as if she were peering at him over her desk back in the Shard building, "I have a short-order task for you to execute for tonight." He looked back at her, paying keen attention as the champagne glass in his hand was filled by Felicia seated on his lap. Then naughty maid shimmied her perfect heart-shape ass around against his cock in a pleasing-teasing fashion that was nothing short of delightful as Annette continued to explain.

"Anika needs to adjust the head count for tonight's party?"

"Adjust the head-count?" he asked.

"The boy-girl ratio," Shelby answered -impertinent as always, "is not where Anika would like it to be. When something like that happens, ringers get called in."

"Ringers," he said incredulously, "for a party?"

"A short list," Shelby continued to interrupt (little miss-know-it-all that she was), "of people whom can be trusted with keeping a party interesting."

"Interesting?"

"Yes," she continued lifting her leg up from the bubbles and flexing before dropping it back into the steamy depths, "swordsmen."

"Swordsmen?"

"Yes," Shelby replied wondering suddenly if she'd just let the village idiot cum inside her asshole. She was now quite annoyed as it was readily apparent she'd need to explain EVERYTHING. Men could be so stupid sometimes and she slowed down as if she were talking to a basset hound puppy whom she was telling to please go on the paper,

"LADs ...WITH... LARGE ...COCKS!"

Annette sat back against the rim of the tub and let her young comely acolyte Shelby continue to explain as Chad sipped his champagne and listened intently.

"Annette has a list of regular guys that come to her parties; her usual suspects. Anika has been to a few of Annette's little "get-togethers" and there is always an expectation that a certain type of male will be present; the well-endowed type!" Annette now cut-in for Shelby,

"I knew that Anika wasn't merely kicking an invitation our way simply because we are old friends. She wanted to know if a few riding ponies from my stable could be provided but she didn't say anything at the time as it might have been poor form; I just strongly suspected as much but her text this morning confirms it."

"That's where I come in," Shelby interrupted again, "its normally ME who gets in touch with all the "long-fellows of the short list." I have them RSVP back to me with a "yes" or a "sorry-luv-but I have a fing to go to." She shifted and squirmed a bit in the tub and let-go a little FLURP-SQUONK! of a fart as some of Brad's cum leaked from her bum. Perhaps she'd been a bit too harsh on her fellow intern - it really was good bum-fucking he'd given her as a wake-up this morning and she was pleased that Annette was sharing him with her. Yes, she'd been too hard and she made up her mind she wouldn't leave him in the lurch on this project.

"So this party," Brad asked, "it's all going to be good looking well-hung lads in a sword fight over a handful of birds?"

"Oh no," Annette chimed in, "there will be several people of a more ordinary sort of both sexes; a lot are people connected to the London underground societies and there are a few people who enjoy a certain amount of ...celebrity, power, and influence; shall we say? You'd do best to enjoy the party but not breath a word as to whom it was that happened to attend or even that the party happened at all. Quite a few famous faces attend... and they bring their boobs cocks, cunnies and bums with them expecting to rub them against lovely beautiful flesh! My short-list of bats-men ensures the celebrity ladies who desire a frolic in a forest of hard-woods are not disappointed."

"And for those average-looking but famous blokes in need of attractive female companionship?" Brad asked as Felicia refilled his glass and teasingly squirmed her bum around his cock again in the bubbles.

"Anika," Shelby answered, "has a short-list of her own; although it's a considerably longer short-list than ours; girlfriends, waitresses at her club, dancers, and of course she has a few service- numbers she dials for such occasions."

"Service-numbers," Brad observed in between sips of his glass trying not to spill despite Felicia's bum- wriggles, "you mean call-girls?"

"She means," Annette cut-in, "absolutely stunning call girls of an elite category. These are Olympic-class athletes in the world of courtesans and they don't come cheap. WE aren't paying anything, but I'm certain that a few invitees have shilled out a pretty penny to attend. I imagine she's already activated THAT phone list so the suppliers could meet the lead-time and book the flights."

"Flights?"

"Let's just say," Annette said as she moved across the tub to where Felicia was seated on Brad's lap beneath the suds and bubbles, "that THIS party has most likely involved already a significant number of passports being stamped and an army of taxis heading to airports. Only the best." She leaned forward and kissed Felicia's lips tenderly as her fingers groped in the suds to find the maid's clit and cunt-hole. She brought her free hand around to the woman's backside; finding Brad's hard veiny cock. She pushed the head up against the pucker of her servant's anus. If there was one skill set that Annette Bishop had mastered in her forty-three years on earth, it was bringing talented beautiful people "together."

Shelby leaned back in the bubbles and parted her legs. She watched the three before her as they put on a lurid aquatic show while her fingers strummed away on her own clit in voyeuristic appreciation. She'd made her mind up that Brad would not fail with this first task in the new job.

A bit before noon Felicia brought a light lunch of soup bread and tea to the balcony as Shelby and Brad finished the initial contacts on the short-list in a flurry of texts and invites. A few well-endowed champions had already RSVP'd; promising their veiney sword in Annette's service and the "Fellowship of the Ding-a-ling" was swelling in its ranks with every minute. Meanwhile, Annette was on her phone, ordering another delivery of "play-clothes" for her cubs. Her task was two-fold. She wanted to reward them for a job well done; she also wanted them to look good for the posh, high-end fuckathon that would take place at Anika's.

She was taking everything with relation the appearance of both her cubs into consideration, (and that included Shelby and Brad's hair). Shelby could get away with her "look" but something simply HAD to be done about Brad. Sebastian, her "hair performance artist," had already texted her back saying he'd be able to drop by her flat and give Annette's new boy-toy a new look. A second glance at Shelby's "look" and Annette decided it would have to go as well. She texted Sebastian again with another simple message,

"BRING CYRIL WITH U!"

The afternoon progressed smoothly enough. Sebastian came with a younger man name Cyril and the two "licensed necromancers with a set of clippers," went to work on the cubs; raising their looks from the dead. Sebastian resurrected Brad's rather boyish and still bratty head of hair into a rather euro-looking man-cut. The young man now definitely looked like he should be affecting a bit of an accent from somewhere on the continent after Sebastian was through with him.

Meanwhile Cyril took Shelby's shoulder-length mane and restyled it into a shorter but incredibly sassy look that would be the envy of ANY sex-pixie! Cute blond locks now flipped around in front of her pretty face as she admired herself in the mirror and batted her eyes coquettishly in a gratuitous and un-abashed display of self-love. She definitely would not be buying her own drinks should Annette ever whisk her off to Neverland.

As Sebastian and Cyril departed following cheek kisses from Annette and promises for new business, she thought to herself those two really were a rare find for her. It wasn't that they were hairstylists who made house calls on a Saturday: Annette had money and Saturday night was busy with a great deal of posh types needing to look good for the weekend. No... the thing was that both Sebastian and Cyril were true artists who worked in the medium of bangs and locks; scissors and blow dryers being their brushes. The proof in the pudding was when the two cubs looked at themselves in the mirror; pleasantly startled by their new looks... like two house cats let outside for the first time who'd never seen the grass of a garden but completely captivated by the sight and texture of it all!

Within the hour the play-clothes arrived for the cubs. As she'd done the night before; Annette had dressed them well; a purple silk shirt for Brad and a shorty green club-dress for Shelby with matching shoes. The color green loved her. Brad had a set of dark slacks and a pair of black cowboy boots. Dark colors seemed to make this tall handsome fellow look even a bit taller still. As the afternoon progressed and the RSVPs were finishing up; she put herself and her two naughty disciples down for a nap. There was one open ended problem with the evening however.

It seems Annette's Limo driver Anthony, would need to be at the flat this evening with the car. She'd be pulling him in on his day-off, but with the party out of town she needed him. He never disappointed her. Today medical science forced Tony to make an exception.

He was sitting in the bath with a nasty chill and a horribly stuffy head when he got the text. He swore loud enough to shake the ceiling plaster in his flat. Bloody HELL that was all he needed! He felt simply awful and definitely was in no condition to drive by the way he felt.

It was strange; he'd been fine the night before but that morning when he'd rolled out of bed he felt simply dreadful. No... he wasn't going anywhere. It was probably a twenty-four hour bug that had been going around but it wasn't worth spreading it any further. He dialed a friend and called in a favor.

"Ted speaking," a voice answered on the other end.

"Mate," Tony sniffled into the phone, "going to cash in that chip I have with you."

"What the fuck is with you?" the voice said, "you sound terrible!"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"There's a match tonight. I was going to watch it on the telly, why?"

"You'll probably have to listen to it on the car radio instead ...come over and pick up my keys."

Which brings us back to the sleek black limousine that now left Hammersmith and crossed the Thames heading south towards Richmond and beyond; the driver intent on making the M3 so that he could move along at a brisker pace. Sitting behind the wheel Ted Hardwick, cursed his luck. He'd been looking forward to a night off involving several pints at his flat with a match on the television and no bloody disturbances. What he got was a phone call and a change of plans. Well, he thought to himself, he owed Tony for what his friend had done for him... and it was only proper to return that favor. Inconveniences pass; coming and going like the rain but good friends stay with you and those relationships must be carefully preserved.

The fifty-five year old black man huffed out his breath through his lips in mild frustration and resigned himself to his fate; his eyes below his dark drivers cap scanning the motorway ahead. It would be a boring Saturday night for him; a milk run. Pick these people up at their flat, take 'em to the party, stand around waiting, and drive the three home. What a waste of an evening!

Well, at least he'd had the sense to catch dinner before he went out on the job. He wouldn't even be able step away from the car to fetch himself a snack from the kitchen by the sound of things. When he'd gone over earlier in the afternoon to Tony's to get the keys, his friend had been explicit.

"Don't leave the car," Tony told him as he sat in his bathrobe shivering and tossing the car keys to Ted, "These people are a bit, different. Don't chat 'em up too much about this party you're taking them to. They're quite private sorts these people; they protect their privacy and the worry about their reputations."

"How much trouble can I get into if I only have to use the loo?" Ted asked, now incredulous.

"Enough for the both of us. Look, if you have to pop into the house for a piss that's one thing... just stay with the car, oh and Teddy... no-matter what happens, you don't see nothing and you don't say nothing! This is a good gig I have - I can't let anything ruin it!"

Ted now felt like he was taking a carload of spies to Surrey or some nonsense. What a night! Well at least he could hear listen match on the radio while he waited for this thing to end; whatever it was! At least the people he'd picked up in the West End seemed nice; a tall proper fellow and two pretty birds. They'd been pleasant when they'd gotten in, although they hadn't spoken much.

Ted had noticed the older of the two women, an elegant thing she was with black short hair: had been a bit taken aback when he'd first picked them up. She'd asked where Anthony was and as Teddy explained to her he was there to fill in for his sick friend, he noticed the woman had looked around nervously like she was trying to decide if she was going to have to call off an assassination or something.

The tall good looking GQ bloke had asked her if there was a problem and she shook her head, saying something about hating such untidy last minute changes given where they were going, and then the pretty little gymnast-looking blonde had chimed in with a Not to worry it will all be fine Annette. The older MILFY woman shrugged her shoulders and got inside; the younger people following right behind her. I was all a little strange for Ted.

He crossed the second loop of the Thames on the Twickenham Road Bridge and kept moving on. Ahead up the road was the start of the M3. He could pick up the pace soon and make up for lost time with all the worst traffic behind him. The rain had stopped completely as well and slowly the clouds were moving off, revealing red sunset behind them in the evening sky and a first few twinkling stars. The moon would be out later; it would be a right-proper night to sit and listen to the radio.

Far out to the Northeast back in London, another smaller limousine was getting a later start but headed to the same destination with its sole passenger. Amanda looked at her watch and frowned. Having arrived the day before from the States she was jet-lagged as hell and now late as hell as well. She'd laid down for a nap that afternoon and then woken up several hours later to find she'd overslept terribly. She became a flurry of activity, getting ready and putting herself together as best she could in her hotel room on Charlotte and Rathbone, just off of Soho.

She was no novice at getting her face on however and her ability to prepare herself for a "special gathering" was matched only by the speed at which she executed the task. The evening had begun as a frightful mess but as she stepped into the car in front of the hotel an hour later; she looked anything but a mess! She might have been a bit overdressed for the June night as she stepped her through the door of the limo wearing a long coat and high green heels but she was most-definitely - not a mess!

Dressed to the nines would have been a better description; her blonde hair in sophisticated little bob that looked exquisite as did her nails and makeup. The driver caught his breath a bit as he held open the door for her and she batted her pretty green eyes at him. She cleaned-up nicely anytime she was required to get down and dirty and this evening promised to be anything but clean.

As she sat in the rear of the car behind the partition, (and out of sight of the driver's view), she opened her coat and allowed the cars air-conditioning system to swirl around her beautiful old feminine form wrapped in a metallic green bustier trimmed in black lace. The garment pushed up her 34C bust line like a lovely twin-peaked mountain range and squeezed her petit mid-section ever so delectably above her lovely round bubble-butt in such a way that she was the envy of any hour-glass. She smiled with satisfaction at her stunning yoga-enhanced form; she'd knock 'em dead this evening - the look on the driver's face when she'd entered the car told her as much!

She yawned. The effects of the jet-lag and the time change were still wreaking havoc with her. Four days earlier, the phone had rung in an Austin Texas office park and Amanda's boss; a sweet little old grandmotherly-type named Karen had answered the phone. Anika Johansen was doing one of her parties at her home southwest of London and she needed girls. A flip of Karen's fingers through her black book and a minute later Amanda received a text from her madam as she drove up the I-35,

"AMANDA PACK U R GOIN TO LONDON BIG $$$ ANIKA WANTS U!"

That was it. The gorgeous international call-girl with the kind expression and demeanor of a sweet mommy wrapped up in the body of a hot sultry MILF found her exit. She headed straight to the "office" to get the rest of the details from her boss. The next 48 hours were a whirlwind of preparation for her; culminating with a late-afternoon flight out of Austin and with a connection in Philadelphia prior to her touching down at Heathrow. Now four days after the initial text message, here she was; in another limousine heading to another party of debauchery and naughtiness, (for which both she and Karen would be handsomely compensated).

She turned her head and looked out the darkened window of the limousine as London went by outside. She smiled and with one finger adjusted her small gold-stud nose-piercing as she stared out the glass at the city and thought pensively. She'd been quite the jet setter for these last six months; racking up one stamp on her passport after another. No-time at all for her to rest on her laurels it seemed; always another text and another country to go to with another heaving pile of naked bodies to jump enthusiastically into the middle of or another train of men with cocks in their hands that she'd be required to pull as a most supremely fetching and exquisite lady-locomotive for hire!

"Well," she thought, "it's a living." She sniffed a tattoo of a blue moon flower on her right wrist. She'd spritzed juuusst the right amount of perfume before she'd left the room. She didn't simply look captivating... damn she smelled it. The interior of the car was now filled with her intoxicating aroma; delicate, sophisticated and thoroughly enticing.

Little did she know, her evening ahead would be filled with an equally intoxicating mixture of surprises and old passions rekindled as Karma moved its mysterious unseen wheels cogs and pendulums; driving the universe according to its own plan, and bringing her and occupants of the other limousine far away in the English countryside on a strange parallel course of irony; whose reason was known but to the hands of the fates. Amanda's limo moved out through the streets of the city and across the Thames, then south of London; headed for the party in Surrey. If the evening had been two strippers; then it could have been said that Amanda the gorgeous call-girl had both Destiny and Irony waiting for her patiently at the destination.

The house in Surrey was old and immense. Its grounds were old. Its gardens were old; its fountains old. The only thing new about it at first glance was the paved drive which had been laid over the original 18th century cobblestones; well ...that and the atmosphere inside the home. It was the result of old traditionalism of the enlightenment smashing headlong into the twenty-first Century. Although the original owners of the estate would have recognized the grounds and the interiors and the halls... Anika had made a few "modifications" to the décor to fit her lifestyle "hand in black leather glove." If you can imagine a Haydn concerto or a Handel chorus executed with mixed digital sound by a DJ with a nose ring below his dreadlocks and the heady whiff of patchouli hanging in the air; you'd pretty much understand what she'd done with the place.

The house currently was absolutely humming; conspicuously busy with throngs of guests gathering about on the first floor and a steady stream of cars arriving up the black drive. It was as if all the contents of the M25 had been voided out into the countryside south down the Old Ockham road and were now going to take the local village by storm before they turned east and all funneled into the drive of the stately manor home. The hostess Anika could most certainly pack 'em in, (with a little help from valet's of both sexes dressed in colorful eighteenth costumes who hurriedly moved cars around to the back as well as ushering the limousines to a side car park).

As the guests arrived, servants received them at the door and ushered them immediately into the front reception hall with its checkered red marble floor, its gilded baroque wall panels, its two spiral staircases, and in the center of the hall...Anika; looking resplendent. The tall blonde with the electric blue pools for eyes was as shiny and colorful in her powder blue club-dress (and thus pleasing to the eye), as the enormous but elegant hall she stood in. She knew the fine art of working a room simply by standing in the middle of it and letting people come to her; she'd in fact fucking mastered it. No one needed to be told by the servants to walk to her, she was a social black-hole that pulled people in helplessly to her ; to throw arms around that exquisite form of hers and give her a cheek-kiss her before moving-on to the champagne table and the bar that lay behind.

All around Anika beautiful women and rather striking gentlemen chatted cordially either with the hostess or amongst themselves as they sipped champagne and observed more and more arriving guests. It wasn't quite red-carpet but as the guests arrived, they did appear to be one-upping one another with their entrances; either by being recognized as being unquestionably attractive and trendy, or by being undeniably famous but attempting to hide the fact of who they were until they felt safe. This was after all one of Anika's parties and guests were searched accordingly at the door; not for illicit items or substances but for cameras.

Cell-phones were checked along with coats to the side of the entrance by scantily clad women dressed as classical woodland nymphs; another costume flourish of Anika's design. Suffice to say; when this party was over and done with, the only evidence this gathering had ever occurred... would be possibly a few hangovers or the odd rug-burn. No photographic evidence would exist; as per Anika's explicit instructions to staff and guests!

As much as the assembled partiers wished to frolic this evening and "make the nasty" with one another; it was understood that careers; in entertainment, music, politics, education, civil service and business were being risked. It was therefore discretion as well as ribaldry that lay foremost in people's minds. The joke was, "First rule of FUCK CLUB; nobody photographs, films, blogs, writes or speaks of FUCK CLUB!"

It was into this setting that Annette's limousine arrived. A man with a torch and dressed as footman from the 1700's waved at Ted before the entrance of the home. Ted brought the limousine to a stop and the footman popped open the car door for Annette, Shelby and Brad. Before she slid across the seat to exit, Annette had Brad drop the partition up front so she could address Ted.

"Teddy if you need us," she said, "we'll be right inside. Please hop in to fetch a bite to eat at the buffet. The lady of the house puts out a remarkable spread and there is always too much there."

"Oh no worries ma'am," Ted Answered back, "I can't see any reason to disturb you and I have already eaten. I'll stay with the car and be fine. I have my cell here and Mr. Knight has my number. You just enjoy yourselves."

"Aw Teddy," the little pixie Shelby chimed in before exiting the vehicle, "you'll get so awfully bored out there with the cars!"

"Oh thank you miss but I'll be alright," Ted replied to Shelby reassuringly, "I'll have the match on. Nothing more to worry about with me." Shelby made a face and Annette iterated the point that he really shouldn't spend all of the evening out in the car but Ted was professional and insistent. As the three partiers shrugged their shoulders and left the limo, Tony's words rang in Ted's ears,

"Stay with the car. No-matter what happens, you don't see nothing and you don't say nothing! This is a good gig I have - I can't let anything ruin it!" Mates simply didn't let mates down. He'd stay with the car. He'd piss in the hedges by the oak trees if he needed to but he'd stay with the fucking car.

The fellow in the frilly blue footman costume now motioned Ted to follow him around the drive to the left and over to the east side of the Manor where a large car park had been established specifically for limousines within a grove of oak trees. Ted parked and waived a polite "thank you," as the man left. He sat in the car park amidst the other drivers in their cars, some napping, some looking at their phone-screens, and some smoking outside their limos. Nobody seemed particularly chatty. He found the match on the radio and sat in the darkness.

Annette Brad and Shelby made their entrance. It seemed a hundred heads in the grand hall turned their way. Brad looked about the great hall in amazement. Staring back at him was a who's who of power, wealth, celebrity and pretty faces.. far too numerous to count. The fact that this assembled hive of the well-known was congregating for a sex party made this whole night seem like a cross between a London Tabloid piece and a Fellini film. A hand reached out and grabbed his; Annette's. She knew he was already star struck and that his mouth was hanging open like that of an exquisitely handsome codfish. She decided that moving him along briskly behind Shelby and her would be the least socially awkward thing to do.

"Darling," she said to him through clenched teeth while still smiling, "please do stop gawking at everyone as if you're seeing two dogs shagging for the first time." He did as she said and followed in her wake - and what a wake it was!

Annette stepped forward into the center of the great hall with her cubs but with all eyes really just following her; especially those of Anika. The hostess did something she hadn't done so far this evening. She broke ranks with her gorgeous strap hangers and fawning toadies whom had collected about her and stepped forward to meet the trio coming her way; instead of letting them come to her as she'd done with every other guest so far that evening.

With the red checkered marble floor of the grand hall beneath them the two tall slender women looked like a pair of queens on an immense chessboard preparing to engage; one statuesque blonde white queen and one slender elegant brunette black queen. They did engage, (after a fashion). As they met, they collided happily with outstretched arms, kisses to cheeks, and loud hysterical laughs amid shouts of warm greetings.

"Annette!" Anika shouted to her friend, "I was getting so worried when I didn't see you here earlier!"

"Oh now Anika," Annette replied as the two shared a warm hug, "you know I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

Anika's eyes beamed happily into those of her old friend and then moved across Annette's shoulder to Brad. He was standing slightly behind the boss, not saying much and looking tall; just as Annette had hoped for. Anika spun her old girlfriend around with her and with an arm over Annette's shoulder gawked shamelessly at Brad saying,

"Oh and I see you've brought your lovely piece Lad Candy that has a brain and a gift for conversation. It looks as though some barber did wonderful things with its hair." She looked him up and down; guessing that Brad looked good tonight partly because of Annette's taste in clothing, partly because she'd called in one of her hairdresser friends, and partly because of the delicious DNA floating around inside Brad himself. Her heart did a little pitty-pat but she didn't show it; she only leered with her cold blue eyes into his. She asked Annette if "It" was up for more conversations and illuminating discussions this evening.

"Oh it's quite talkative tonight Anika," Annette chimed in as she pushed her girlfriend forward to him, "it's had its nap and is feeling quite refreshed."

Anika extended her arms to Brad in grand embrace. He leaned forward to provide her with the customary cheek kiss and Anika; queen bee in her own hive snatched him by the chin and brought his lips to hers. She pulled back her snog with a tug on his lips and stared again into his eyes while hugging him dangerously close. She traced his strong cleft chin with her finger and then turned back to Annette saying,

"You never show up to a party without something for the hostess dear! I think I'll take my present later in the other room."

"Just remember Ani'," Annette chided, "it's a loaner, I need it back at the end of the night."

"Of course dear," Anika replied to her friend a tone dripping with equal portions of bitchiness and cattiness, "but I can't guarantee I won't scuff it up a bit." She spun her pretty little blonde head around and nipped Brad playfully on the chin for emphasis.

It didn't bother Annette. She didn't mind bite marks and dings on her toys; so long as she got them back when the play date was over. Anika's flirty rough-housing with Brad's chin and neck was interrupted by a slapping POP on her rump. She released Brad and spun around to see who in the hell had landed such a smart hornet-sting spank on her bum. Her hands then went on her hips in a display of mock chastisement and scorn as she beheld the coquettish pansexual pixie prankster Shelby; beaming up at the tall glamourous blonde with a cheeky smile.

"Shelby you wretched little brat," Anika shouted with outstretched arms that scooped the naughty little kitten up in an embrace, "get over here -you look beautiful as always. I love the new look of your hair by the way darling! It matches your puckish disposition!"

"Are Penelope and Wendy here tonight Anika?" Shelby asked staring up into the Scandinavian beauties' pale blue eyes.

"Oh they most certainly ARE my dear," Anika replied tweaking the girl's adorable button nose, "I have them setting up the bar in the ballroom behind us. You'll see them shortly enough." Shelby happily bounced out of the hostesses' arms and did a squeal of glee; clapping her hands like a kid who'd just heard there'd be a pony at the party! Anika then turned back to Annette.

"Your ringers and swords men have been arriving just as you promised."

"Well, I wouldn't want to be one to disappoint. Of course really truth be told; you can thank Brad here for rounding up all your gladiators for the evening. He ran my list from top to bottom and the lads were quite enthusiastic when they heard of the party!"

"OHHHH! That was awfully good of you Brad!" Anika said turning back to him only to spy another one of the ringers in question over his shoulder back at the entrance, "Oh and speak of the devil there is another one now!" Everyone turned as Dexter the tall black man from the from the night before at Anika's club entered the hall. He had an aura of perpetual confidence and good nature about him that followed him like a halo.

Anika shot him a friendly wave and he returned it with a bit of dash and panache; stepping grandly into the room and moving towards the hostess. Despite being a patron of Anika's clubs, Dex was actually one of Annette's old flames and a veteran of a multitude of her gang bang parties, (so it was only natural that the handsome man from the West Indies made it onto the ringer list); especially if he brought that large mahogany blackjack between his legs he was so famous for! As he approached Annette put her arm around Anika and whispered in her ear,

"How about your call-girls darling?"

"Most still filtering in; a few were late arrivals at Heathrow tonight as well but we're doing nicely."

Anika and Annette both greeted Dexter with warm hugs and broad smiles. He was the last of the ringers to arrive. Dex then scooped up little Shelby in a happy bear-hug before setting her down and shaking hands with Brad. With the arrival of Dex, Anika judged that there were enough beautiful bodies present now for the festivities to commence. She looked at the clock at the top of the stairs and decided the time had most definitely arrived.

"Everyone!" she shouted to the throngs of assembled guests sipping from their champagne glasses, I think it would be good if we start moving to the ballroom!" The crowd moved like a slow chatty tide towards the great doors at the end of the entrance hall; an even larger but significantly darker chamber waiting just beyond. A DJ inside fired up the sound system and the dark cavernous baroque ballroom was suddenly flooded with laser light and earth-shattering noise. The hyper party was on!

Outside nearly fifty minutes later at the car park amongst the limos, Ted stood having a cigarette and scowling in the darkness. The match had been an absolute disappointment for him and he'd switched it off. The reception for the station had been abysmal and from what he'd heard of the match... he knew it would simply not end well for his club. He figured, Why wait for the bitter end? Besides up the hill at the house things were happening that were absolute "nutters!"

From his vantage point, Teddy could see the flashes of strobes and brilliant light emitting from the domed grand ballroom with its glass ceiling. Multicolored laser lights occasionally shot out from open windows, looking as though a firefight between the Rebels and Imperial forces was raging away inside. For the past forty-five minutes the sound system inside was a pounding BOOM BOOM BOOM of deafening noise that would have been the pride of any artillery unit. The DJ apparently had whipped the crowd of partiers inside into a proper frenzy; as screams and howls could be heard from the open doors whenever servants or guests came and went from the side entrances to the house. It was then the "other limousines" and vans began to arrive.

They pulled up the long drive to the estate. There had had been a trickle at first of vehicles and Ted barely noticed them. They'd just been on more set of limos. He did notice they'd begun pulling right up to the side entrance; letting passengers out (and with great haste). Soon the trickle of cars became a flow as something was definitely happening that would change the tempo of events inside.

Ted saw one of the Vehicles; a white non-descript van pull up to the side of the house. The door popped open unceremoniously and out spilled about a dozen scantily clad beautiful women with a myriad of rich dark skin tones wrapped only in brightly colored negligees before a footman "escorted the escorts," in through the side door. Ted could hear the barnyard cacophony of their speech and pulled the cigarette while wondering aloud,

"Spanish?" His got an answer from a voice to his left.

"It's Portuguese," called the voice from a limo with windows down.

"Beg pardon," Teddy said turning to the driver of the vehicle.

"I said it's Portuguese," the man said, "they're Brazilians. The flight from São Paulo must have been a little late."

"How you know all this friend?" Teddy asked trying to look inside the car.

The polite driver with the gregarious personality exited the vehicle. He came around the front of his car. He smile was generous and his manner was genial.

"Because I was born there my friend, and because I took seven of them here directly from the airport at five this evening. I am Fabio," he said giving Ted a firm handshake before going-on, "These women coming in tonight from all around the pebble my friend!"

"Women from all around the globe?" Ted said incredulously looking back up to the house.

"Yes," Fabio said watching a limo unload four exquisite tall Russian women in corsets, "and very expensive ones I might add." The two smoked and watched as vehicle after vehicle began to arrive; unloading precious cargo at the side entrance. Fabio patiently explained a few things about the "gathering" to a head-shaking Ted; the cigarettes of the two men glowing in the darkness at the foot of the hill. For a fellow who knew London like the back of his hand... Teddy decided he didn't really get out enough anymore.

It was in one of these limousines that Amanda arrived to the party. The drive hadn't been all that very long for her. She'd enjoyed the views of London and the countryside of Surrey(even at night), held and allure for her. The car stopped at the side entrance and a footman popped open her door. She adjusted her coat around herself and stepped from the car.

Inside she checked her coat and purse at special lockers that had been reserved for the working girls near the kitchen. She'd been at a few of Anika's parties before and knew where everything was. She'd established a favorable reputation during those earlier visits and it was the primary reason Anika gave Amanda's boss a "by-name request" specifically for her.

A servant appeared next to her at the coat-check room and offered to escort her to the ballroom. She smiled back at the young man. He looked just out of nappies.

"How old are you honey?"

"Twenty," the young man answered.

"And what is your name?" Amanda asked him.

"Cedric Ma'am," the young man politely answered.

"Cedric," she politely said putting an arm around his shoulder and a condescending tone in her voice, " darlin, when you were fourteen I came to work my first party here. I have been to four since then and I could show you rooms in this house you wouldn't even believe existed until I popped open a secret door or two for you! I think I can find my way into the grand ballroom but you are very sweet!" She popped a kiss on Cedric's lips and strode down the hallway; clad only in her metallic green bustier and clicking in her high heels past the kitchen. She left a stunned Cedric standing by the counter watching her leave and running a tongue across his lips. For a hired tart; she was a yummy one, he was sure of that much!

She negotiated her way through the maze of corridors and doorways until she arrived at a servant's entrance to the ballroom. On the other side of the door she could field harsh vibrations of deafening music pulsing like an enormous heartbeat; the hyper rave was in full pounding force. She pushed the double doors which swung open like those of a saloon in an American Wild West picture. She was instantly met with an avalanche of crashing sound as a thunderous beat struck her in the chest and her eyes beheld a darkened dance floor clotted with wildly flailing bodies of men and women in various stages of undress.​