Carlo breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator rushed them to the top floor. Everything so far had gone according to plan. Moments before, he had left Nino and Sue stationed in the foyer, awaiting guests who would arrive, and now he was taking Elaine upstairs to introduce her to Marceau. She had swallowed the lie easily enough, expecting Nino to join them before long. He let his gaze travel over her lush young body and chuckled to himself, knowing that before she became suspicious he would have her under his influence – thanks to Marceau's special mixture.
Elaine caught the movement in Carlo's eyes as they traveled over her figure, pausing slightly at her ample breasts, flat stomach, and flared hips. She had remembered him immediately when they had met downstairs. He had been the one with Nino in the cafe… He was as good looking as Nino, she thought – the same finely boned features, the same muscular body. She was glad now that she had worn the green dress – knowing that it perfectly accentuated her ripe figure in just the right places.
Abruptly, the elevator bumped to a stop. As the doors hissed open Elaine heard the muted strains of rock music and felt his gentle touch on her arm as he led her toward it.
As they entered the room, Carlo noticed that the room had undergone a transformation since he had been up there. Now, the only illumination in the circular room came from psychedelic lighting above the sunken stage. He noticed that two of the young girls were dancing with the Count and his friend as he led Elaine toward Marceau's alcove table.
Elaine squinted as her eyes attempted to adjust to the room's darkness. She knew there were dancers on the stage, but in the flickering light it was difficult to distinguish their features.
Carlo stopped abruptly at a table from which copious giggling was issuing. "Elaine, I would like you to meet Marceau Verner, our gracious host. Marceau, this is Elaine Craig."
"Charmed, my dear," Marceau answered, disentangling his arm from the giggle and rising.
"Mr. Verner…" Elaine replied, nodding her head slightly toward him and smiling.
"Please… call me Marceau…" He hesitated, wondering. Could it be? But, no, it was too much of a coincidence… He looked beyond her to the figures on the stage. Still…? "If there is anything you wish," he finally said, breaking the short silence, "please feel free to ask. The show should be starting very soon now… I hope you will enjoy it."
"Thank you, very much," Elaine said, a puzzled look crossing her lovely face. She thought it strange that neither of the men had bothered to introduce her to the woman in the booth. Her eyes had become more accustomed to the dim light and she bent forward, straining to see into the back of the booth… God!
She was only a girl! Not more than 15 or 16. The girl with flaming red hair stared back, then grinned, and finally giggle Elaine was about to speak, but just then the lights dimmed even more and the music stopped.
"Come," Carlo said, pressing Elaine's hand. "The show is about to start. We'd better get to our table."
"See you later, Marceau," he called over his shoulder as they picked their way across the darkened room.
"A drink?" Carlo asked after they were seated.
"Thank you," Elaine answered. "I could use something!"
"How about some of Marceau's famous hot buttered rum?" he said, indicating the tureen resting in its warmer on the table.
"Yes, that would be fine," Elaine replied. Although the rain had stopped, it had been cool outside and she still felt a little chilled. Maybe the hot rum would warm her.
Carlo filled two glass cups from the tureen, handed her one, then raising the other, said, "To your health."
Elaine nodded in response, then sipped the warm liquid. What an unusual taste, she thought. But it's good. Very good! She sipped again.
They sat silently for several minutes, drinking, lost in their own thoughts. They lit cigarettes from the box on the table, then, Carlo noticing that her cup was almost empty, refilled it. His own cup was nearly untouched. He grinned. Not only was she drinking the hot rum – literally laced with hashish tea and Brazilian Bola an exotic aphrodisiac – but he had just fit a cigarette for her filled with just enough powdered hashish to keep her from coughing, yet strong enough so that just one had the potency of a whole joint of first-class marijuana.
Suddenly, from the direction of the stage, the pulsating beat of a single conga drum began. Gradually, a single orange spot of light began to illuminate one side of the stage. Elaine was mesmerized as the majestic figure of Marceau's Negro valet, Nick, gradually appeared in the soft illumination. He was seated, cross-legged, on the far side of the sunken stage, clasping the African conga drum he played between his bare legs, wearing only a lion-skin loin cloth, his naked arm and chest muscles glistening in the warm orange illumination. Elaine scarcely dared to breathe as she watched the light begin to pulse in rhythm to the enormous Negro's beat, flickering eerily off of his naked ebony skin with each throb.
The vibrant scene seemed to be having almost an hypnotic effect on her. She was beginning to feel light, airy, and her temples pulsed with the thumping beat coming from the drum.
Carlo watched her closely. God, he thought, she's really taking off, floating into another world. She's really feeling the hashish. And before long she'll be in the grip of the Bola. He knew its effects, he had seen them before. And, by God, he was going to see them again.
As Elaine continued to watch the Negro, the hashish began to take complete control of her nervous system… She began to experience a humming, vibrant feeling, rising slowly from her toes, crawling steadily toward her skull. Never in her life had she felt so completely relaxed… secure… unafraid. It was good to be with a friend, a handsome young man, someone who would confidently guide her through the evening… To express her appreciation of him, she leaned closer and was pleased when he smiled, squeezing her shoulder lightly and nodding toward the stage. She had been so distracted by Carlo's presence and the effects of the drink and the hashish, that she had neglected to notice the appearance of a young girl on the stage.
Sharon, the slender blonde that Carlo had delivered to Marceau, was sitting on the end of a bid in the center of the stage, her hands folded, slating blankly off toward the audience. Her lithe figure was illuminated by a steady beam of light in much the same manner as was the Negro drummer. Suddenly the tempo of the drum increased, and everyone – including Elaine – watched intently as the slender blonde bent dawn and grasped the hem of the filmy yellow gown she was wearing. Rising, she slowly slipped the gown upwards, exposing her slim white legs and then the slender, boyish thighs.
Elaine could hear eager sounds of delight from the males in the audience as the gown staked its way over the girl's head and her graceful but not full-developed torso emerged. Her little budding breasts burst into view and, in the stage light, her small, quivering nipples appeared like tiny pencil erasers. Raising her alms up over her head, she pulled her waist-length, sandy-colored hair up, then released it to cascade like shimmering gold over her sensuous slender shoulders. Then, stretching languidly, she turned to face the Negro drummer and gave him a wanton smile. She was completely naked now, her slender alluring nudity presented for everyone to appreciate.
Elaine shifted anxiously next to Carlo. A faint glimmering of understanding came over her, and she could not help but watch with fascination and wonder.
Relaxing, Elaine leaned back against the cushion and found Carlo's arm waiting there. She was quite happy and Carlo's arm was reassuringly solid and muscular… so surely it could not hurt anything to sit back and enjoy herself.
Her attention was drawn back to the stage when the drum beat suddenly changed tempo. It was other-worldly, yet had a soul-stirring rhythm that touched the very core of her being. She saw that the slender fourteen year-old girl was holding a small bottle full of an amber liquid. She unscrewed the bottle cap and poured a small amount of the substance on her fingertips. For some reason the act provoked a murmur from some of the other booths, but it was not the kind of murmur that Elaine recognized. Instead, it sounded more like a chorused groan of animal ecstasy, of fevered expectancy. The pretty teenager reached out her smeared fingertips and massaged her breasts in tiny teasing circles, tweaking the soft nipples to sudden throbbing hardness. Then – spreading her legs – she exposed the thin pink slit of her vagina nestling secretly in the soft light-brown pubic hair up between her thighs. Pouring out more of the glistening liquid on the ends of her fingers, she lewdly parted the hair-lined lips surrounding the tight vaginal passage, applying the substance, dabbing it on the tiny exposed clitoris and along the inner ridges of the fragile pink orifice. Setting the bottle aside, she walked to the bed and stretched out on her back. Slowly she began caressing her own ripely budding body, working herself toward a burning passion as her lithe little buttocks twisted against the black satin covered bed as though she were trying to bury herself in it. Her eyes were glazed with desire, and the whiteness of her naked flesh began to turn a rosy blushing color.
Elaine's mind was pirouetting madly, trying to sort out her own feelings from what the girl's must be. She flushed slightly with guilt as she felt a fleeting desire to be where the cute, naked teen-ager was, experiencing the same thing. Squirming her buttocks nervously, the young divorcee felt the edge of the booth cushion come into tingling contact with the soft swelling of her cuntal lips, a contact that was intensified by the nylon panties and smooth dress she was wearing. She tried to sit straight and stop her squirming, but she was powerless to stop herself, though, and ground down with greater force against the cushion rim as her breath quickened. The musky odor of Carlo's male body filled her nostrils, stimulating her even more. It was a rich, earthy odor that made her want to snuggle closer and drown in the excitement of the forbidden naughtiness rippling through her. Without thinking, she moved nearer, and made no protest when his hand came to rest tenderly but firmly on her right breast. Perhaps this very excitement was what she had been afraid of all along, she thought, casting a furtive sidelong glance at Nino's friend.
Catching her eye, Carlo leaned close and whispered, "The liquid is called Bola and comes from the jungles of Brazil. Marceau visited there and learned its use as a stimulant from the natives." As proof of the aphrodisiac's power the 14 year-old naked girl on the bed writhed more lasciviously now, as though she were being attacked by some unseen beast. The heat and excitement in the room was beginning to arouse Elaine against her will. She knew now that she was not the same girl she had been when she had entered the room. She pressed down against the cushion again, until the doubled hem of her short dress was bunched up and pressing into the crevice of her buttocks. Meanwhile, Carlo had tightened his hold on her breast, clenching and unclenching its firm full roundness with a rhythm that matched the erotic writhing of the girl on the stage. The young divorcee could feel the wetness slowly, but inexorably, spreading between her thighs, and she moved forward a few inches to gain more solid contact with the cushion. This was unheard of, a kind of sin, but she found it impossible to still the driving urge in her limbs.
She looked at the stage again after what seemed a long time but was in reality only a moment or two. Without realizing it the pungent hashish had distorted her sense of time, and she was surprised when she saw the golden-haired girl begin to run both of her own hands over her body, her fingertips dancing exploratively over the flat, ivory belly and coming to rest, together, at the "vee" of her soft, hair-covered young loins. The drug-crazed little girl groaned at the thrilling contact of her hands with the moist slit between her thighs and pulled her legs up like two gloriously carved creamy columns above the black satin spread, and then, with a deep sigh let them fall gaping wide on either side of the bed. Her fingers crawled on her nipples and pinched them roughly, making the sensitive flesh shiver and contract in their erectness. It was clearly evident that the aphrodisiac was having the desired effect on the child.
Elaine wriggled uncomfortably in her seat when she saw the girl slowly tease her middle finger into the glistening pink slit of her vagina and begin stroking the swollen bud-like clitoris with her thumb. Carlo's hand clutched Elaine's breast more firmly, and she heard and felt his breathing becoming heavier. Just then, she saw the girl begin to finger-fuck her finger in and out smoothly between the Bola-agitated cuntal walls, joining the middle finger with two more and pushing all three into the hungry pink folds. They disappeared and emerged again and again with a moist sucking noise, causing the girl to sigh and moan with pleasure.
Elaine's body stiffened momentarily as she watched this lewd indignity, and only Carlo's firm grasp on her trembling, aroused breast kept her from leaning forward to hang on the edge of her seat with real concern for the blonde teen-ager.
But the naked little girl on the bed was now hopelessly possessed and worked her mouth eagerly in rhythm with the drum. Her eyes and teeth were clenched tightly shut as she shamelessly writhed her open vagina beneath her driving fingers in an ever increasing frenzy of passion. It was almost more than Elaine could stand witnessing this obscene act right before her very eyes, someone should make the teen-ager stop – do something to help her. Yet the aroused divorcee shuddered and chilled from a sexual acceleration that watching something forbidden gives, and she remained silent.
Elaine hardly noticed or cared when Carlo skillfully unbuttoned the top of her dress and slipped his sweating palm inside her brassiere to cup and hold her warm naked breast.
Now, starting to lose all control herself, Elaine's heart was pounding savagely in her chest; she was certain that her companion must feel it thrashing under his strong hand. He rubbed his fingers lightly over the nipples, stopping to pinch them to pebble-hardness and causing a ripple of delicious sensation to flow through her each time he did. Her breath was steadily quickening, coming in tight gasps as the burning sensation in the hollow pit of her trim young belly grew in maddening intensity. She was beginning to perspire in her arousal, and she could feel a trickle of sweat running from her navel down her stomach into the sparsely haired pubic triangle at the base of her belly. Its slow, teasing trail caused her to squirm and push forward her sex-flushed breasts more firmly into Carlo's hand. Another trickle ran down the valley back between her buttocks, falling onto the tight pink flesh of her anus. Her nerves were thoroughly frayed and her drug-heavy mind throbbed like a bellows behind her eyes. She knew she was in trouble, her own doing, and should not allow Carlo to squeeze and knead her breasts this way. After all, he was an utter stranger. But still, she wanted to avoid being called a square, an innocent child… and besides, a little petting could not hurt anything so long as it came to a halt before real trouble started.
She was thinking of the seeping wetness between her thighs when her eyes strayed back to the stage and the obscenely swaying body of the 14 year-old girl. Small trails of sweat were building and running down the slender blonde's body, glistening in the spotlights and reminding Elaine of her own heated body. A sense of identification with the girl was stronger than ever, sending stronger and stronger ripples of sexual need through her own trembling limbs. She could feel Carlo becoming increasingly excited – and was certain that he could feel the frequent grinding of her vagina down against the cushion. Embarrassed, she made an effort to appear that she was merely changing position, but it was becoming nearly impossible to conceal the fact that she was just as stirred up as he was by their contact and the obscene spectacle before them.
Carlo was fondling her large breasts more enthusiastically now, pinching her bud-like nipples harder until they throbbed higher in guilty pleasure. A wash of shame came over her when she realized that she was truly jealous of the girl on stage; she yearned to have something or someone in her own moist passage, yet she knew that this was only a temporary, unrealistic desire spurred by the unusual events taking place. Her good sense and the strict upbringing she had had would never allow her to take on a strange man, in a strange place, in these strange circumstances at a weird party in a strange city. It was absolutely unthinkable. And yet? God, she was not certain! The delicious intoxication she felt, the scene on stage, Carlo's caresses, plus the basic drives of her own healthy body… all were taking their toll on her ability to ward off whatever might confront her.
She was losing her mind!
Suddenly there was an anguished cry from the girl on the bed. She was twisting her head from side to side wildly, her long blonde hair sweeping the black satin spread. She was experiencing the first blinding throes of searing orgasm and fucked back greedily against her fingers like a she-demon gone berserk.
Elaine stared in fascination as the young girl began to thrash and buck wildly from side to side, up and down, signifying the cataclysmic upheaval exploding deep in her young belly. As her hand flopped uselessly onto the bed, her firm little buttocks glistened in the warm light, displaying the soaked curls of her pubic hair and the fragile pink flesh of her pussy as she pitched backward on the bed and lay struggling for breath. One final thump boomed from the drum and then it, too, became still. In a last act of depravity, the black drummer walked to the bed and swiped his long fingers over the little blonde's oozing cuntal flanges, gathering some of the love juice on the ends of his dark fingers. Leaning forward, he seized the panting girl by her hair and drew back her head to wipe the sticky liquid on her open, trembling lips.
A murmur rose from the booths as the stage lighting gradually receded… the rock music started again, and Elaine watched as several couples walked by their booth headed toward the corridor.
"Come with me," Carlo said softly, rising as he took her hand to leave. "I'd like to show you something."
"I could use some fresh air," she said, allowing herself to be led out of the room into the cool, refreshing air of the corridor.