Party Girl

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She arrived precisely on time, perhaps expecting to be taken out to dinner or to an expensive club. She wore a fabulous long black dress which accentuated her best, or at least her most prominent features.
The yoke keeping her wrists at length from her body was attached with great ceremony by the butler.
Her delicately phrased questions ceased as he politely inserted an unyielding tube into her mouth - forcing it to remain tantalizingly open. He pulled tight the soft but substantial leather straps holding the tube in place and motioned with an outstretched arm toward the grand staircase.
	In awe, we watched her ascend the stairs, her grace impaired only slightly by the unexpected burden of her encumbrance.
	She quickly adapted to its weight and balance.
	At the top of the stairs two of us waited, cocktails in hand. She demurely took her final step onto the landing.
	Hearing more guests arrive, she looked back down the stairs and observed as the butler took the coats of the newly arrived and motioned toward the stairs.
	She stared for a time, processing the observation that no other ladies had arrived just yet - was she the only punctual female in attendance?
No doubt anxious to join the party she turned to us and asked us questions with her eyes.
	We were more than happy to engage her in pleasantries as the many guests arrived.
	As the crowd became more and more boisterous, she naturally became the center of attention - a position she seemed quite comfortable in.
Spirits grew as she was inspected by the party goers. Compliments flew her way, and she seemed to enjoy the attention. She didn't miss the other women. Their tardiness suited her fine.
	Inspected from every angle, a lewd comment or two passed by her ears.
A thought crossed her mind. Would the other girls be gagged as she was? Would their arms be spread apart like hers? Or would she be the only one on exhibit?
Was this some game? A lottery in which the first girl to arrive won the "prize"?
And then it hit her. Perhaps there would be no other women. It was growing late, and it was odd that she was the only female to arrive thus far.
The drool that had been seeping from her pried open mouth now poured down her chest.
She hung her head as the reality of it all sank in.
She looked to us for an explanation. We smiled back knowingly. Concluding at last that she was to be the only female in attendance, she clung to the wall and shrank from the group as she watched more and more arrivals - male arrivals - climb the staircase.
She listened as the conversations in the room turned to her.
One of the guests approached her. She maintained her poise and prepared herself for his greeting.
As he casually removed her right breast from its corner of seclusion inside her dress, creating a striking French curve of fashion perhaps unintended by the designer, her suspicions were confirmed.		She had not been asked to attend a party. She was the party!

Members click here for additional pictures and photos that enlarge.
Members click here to skip to "Party Girl" Part 2