by Cynthia Dane
“Fifteen minutes, and still way early for what you want to accomplish.”
“I don’t take chances, Henry. By the way, could you tell Matilda out there that we need some privacy? I always forget there’s someone lurking about these days.”
“Will do.”
He left the two women alone, Monica setting her makeup aside as she fully turned toward Jasmine. She did not, however, get up, and Jasmine didn’t hold it against her. “Thank you for coming,” Monica began, sounding more like a madam and less like a friend. “I wasn’t sure if you had any concrete plans for the evening.”
Jasmine looked between the large bed covered in a fluffy black comforter and the satin slippers on the floor. “You gonna tell me what’s going on or not?”
“Why, Jasmine.” Monica fluttered her eyelashes as if she were about to suck a million dollars out of the woman in front of her. “I’m shocked you would think anything is afoot.” She pushed herself up, not asking for help as she lumbered over to a nondescript shopping bag at the foot of her bed. She picked it up, briefly glancing through its contents before handing it to Jasmine. “You might want this, though. Didn’t know what you would bring at the last minute… let alone what you would be wearing… so I planned ahead and purchased this downtown.”
Jasmine took the bag and sniffed through it. Everything was black. And silky. And lacy.
“You bought me lingerie…”
“To make up for missing your bachelorette party. Eva told me it was a riot, though.” Monica grinned. “Got sent home in a cab piss-drunk.”
“Uh huh…” The longer the minutes went by, the more Jasmine suspected something was amiss. “What’s going on? Really?”
“Oh? I’m getting ready for tonight’s party. We’re having a big one. In fact, I’m throwing it. Got all my girls on high alert to make me a lot of money tonight.” That grin turned even more devious. “I can thank Ethan for that. He always knows how to help me.”
“I… see…”
“Like getting married at a very opportune time. I needed something to kick off my summer season with. Don’t you think a high-profile bachelor party is the best way to do it?”
I knew it!
“You’re throwing Ethan’s bachelor party? Here?” Well, it was better than some strip club in Vegas, or a dingy lounge in Atlantic City. Way better than something Ethan would actually enjoy in New York. He would feel right at home here. I mean, he helped Monica pay for this place… Jasmine had no idea if that was a loan or an investment. Probably both and neither at the same time. “You brought me all the way up here before it began?” She doubted Ethan was there yet. In fact, it seemed way too early for any guests to be there.
Henry reentered the room, commenting on how powerful the air conditioner was before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You tell her what mischief you’re up to yet, Princess?”
Monica shot her husband a look that dared him to call her that in front of present company again. “I was getting to it. You want to tell me what happened at the end of ‘The Sixth Sense’ too?”
“All right, all right…”
“Anyway,” Monica said with a smile. “Yes, we are hosting Ethan’s bachelor party tonight. It will be pretty wild… by our standards.”
“I thought Adrienne was throwing it?”
“She is. She immediately came to me. So glad I’m the Ethan expert around here, outside of you, of course.”
Jasmine glanced at Henry, but he was completely unperturbed by this casual mention of his wife’s sexual history.
“Adrienne and I will be the only women there. Not including my girls, who will be top performers tonight.”
“All right…” Jasmine could imagine it now. Five trained professionals all vying for Ethan’s attention. Tearing off their clothes. Crawling toward him, begging for him to dominate them, because that’s what went on in a place like this. Well, they were trained Dommes too, but Jasmine doubted they would be anything but submissive for Ethan’s bachelor party. I can handle that. As long as he doesn’t… “Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to have nightmares?”
“Au contraire.” Monica motioned to the bag in Jasmine’s hands. “What Adrienne doesn’t know is that I’ve upped the ante at this party. We both know how difficult it is for Ethan to let loose, and that’s exactly what he should be doing at his bachelor party. I’m sure he knows that he’s going to be inundated with tits and cunts tonight.” Whoa, I’ve never heard her say that word before. “He’s in his limo right now bracing himself and building up a million walls so he doesn’t feel like he’s cheated on you by seeing a woman’s nipples. He’s going to be thinking of you all night.”
“Which isn’t a bad thing,” Henry pointed out. “I thought of you all night during my bachelor party in Amsterdam.”
Monica rolled her eyes. “Before or after you got the contact high of your life, Henry?”
“Who said anything about contact? Darling, it was Amsterdam. I don’t know what was in that fudge.”
“I’m sure.” Monica turned back to Jasmine. “But Ethan isn’t my husband here. If I know him as well as you do, then he’s going to be checked out of his own bachelor party because heaven fucking forbid he enjoy himself without you for once. That’s why you’re here. If I’m going to ensure he has fun at my damn place of business, then I need to bring you here.”
“I see.”
“Do you? Or should I spell it out some more for you?”
Jasmine gulped. “I’m going to be there too?”
“I’ll let you watch the party, but nobody but Henry and I will know you’re there.”
“How?”
Monica went to a closet door. Or Jasmine assumed it was a closet door until Monica opened it and revealed a passageway leading to the main house. “This used to be a servants’ highway. We still use it sometimes, but only during parties like Ethan’s, if you catch my drift.”
Jasmine could hardly believe it. “I’ll be spying on him?”
“Don’t think you’ll be passive.” Monica kept pointing to the bag. “Ethan is going to get laid at his bachelor party, so help me God.” She accepted a glass of ice water from her husband, the only man who could anticipate her every need. “Tonight your name is Cindy, my newest girl.”
Jasmine dropped the bag.
***
In the strangest twist of events, Jasmine found herself at her fiancé’s bachelor party. Not only that, but it was located at his ex-girlfriend’s place of business, which happened to be one of the barely legal pleasure houses in the area.
That sounded like the basis of a memoir.
The lounge she peered in on was already half full of guests, although Ethan had yet to arrive. Henry was there, the only person besides Monica who knew Jasmine stood behind a secret panel. Good for Jasmine that the servants’ passageway was both air conditioned and sparsely furnished with leather seating, because she was dressed in a clingy black corset, black pantyhose and heels, and a tight-fitting dinner jacket that accentuated her figure more than covered it.
For every two men in the lounge, there was a woman catering to their relaxation. Which meant three girls to six men, some of whom Jasmine had never seen before. She did recognize Ken Andrews and Ian Mathers, who were discussing business, of all damn things. Granted, Ken’s mistress Grace kept refilling their drinks and massaging his shoulders, but Jasmine couldn’t believe they were at a bachelor party talking about real estate prices in Arizona.
Henry said something to Judith, the second-in-command at the Château and the #1 income earner, from what Jasmine understood. This was the same woman who had won the bet that Monica was pregnant at the wedding, a strawberry blond who was good at playing innocent before turning around with a cackle in her throat. Not the kind of woman I want to be in the way of. Tonight she wore a black cocktail dress that made her tits and ass look bigger than they probably were. Henry did not seem to notice, but he did pull her aside more than once to remind her that she was “supposed to b
e pure during her bid war,” whatever that meant. Judith kept mumbling at him to back off and that he was, “nothing but a snitch for his wife.” Henry didn’t deny it. Their sarcastic banter lasted most of the night until Henry retired to Monica’s chambers.
The man of the hour didn’t arrive until seven-thirty, and it was to great fanfare in the main hall. Jasmine hustled down the passageway to get a glimpse of the opening foyer, where her fiancé emerged in travel coat and gloves, citing that the air conditioning was broken in his limo and it felt like he was cruising through the Arctic on his way up the mountain.
Adrienne was with him. She took his coat and tossed it to a maid before racing ahead to the lounge, where more than one man mistook her for one of Monica’s girls – and was subsequently disappointed to learn the truth.
“Good to see you,” Monica greeted, taking Ethan’s hand and kissing him on the cheek. “I hope you’re prepared to have a good time tonight. I’ve pulled out all the stops for your last weekend as a bachelor.”
“I’m sure you have.” Ethan removed his gloves and handed them to the same maid who ended up with his coat. “Adrienne told me you even got out the Balvenie for me.”
“Of course I did?”
Ethan followed her down the foyer. “I heard that costs about thirty grand these days.”
“What’s it to me?”
“You’ve come a long way from fretting about money, haven’t you?”
Monica was quick to snap back. “So have you, Ghetto Boy.”
Ethan’s eyebrows went so far up his head that Jasmine thought he would get angry at Monica’s slight. Instead, he laughed, putting a hand on his abdomen as she led him into the other room. Cheers commenced as Jasmine hurried back to the peephole to the lounge.
“…There’s the man of the hour,” Ken cried, getting up from his chair and shaking Ethan’s hand. “About time you showed up to your own party. Don’t you know some of us have been getting drunk for an hour now?”
“I’m shocked,” Ethan said.
He was given the best seat in the room, a large leather armchair that overlooked both the darkened window and the expansive lounge. More men showed up behind him, including James Merange, David Hamilton, and Richard Blake, of all people.
All five of Monica’s girls were working the party that night. The whole Château was shut down for Ethan and this gathering of crazy rich assholes who could buy any woman they wanted for the night. Grace was already spoken for, as Ken was her patron, but he nodded to her when she asked if she could “work the room” for a while. A boisterous redhead named Holly laughed at every dumb joke James told before going to Ian and trying to coax him into a private dance. From the distance, Judith shook her head at these antics – before slyly suggesting to a thin, pale brunette named Yvette that she should try her luck with Richard Blake. Judith had set her eyes on a different man whom she swore she could milk dry. “If that snitch Henry tries running to his wife about it, I’ll seduce him next.” Jasmine had no idea what that was about, but apparently Judith wasn’t allowed to fool around with any of the men here… and she didn’t like it.
Cheers erupted when Grace brought in the Balvenie, sitting pretty in its bottle and enticing more than a few men. Ethan had the honors of taking the first pour, however, and the moment the bottle opened someone exclaimed, “Now it’s time to fucking party!”
Jasmine had never seen men like this party before, and it was like looking into the strangest world of masculinity she ever encountered.
They didn’t drink beers and outright ogle the women working the room with their bodies and charms. Instead, they sipped the aged scotch – or their other liquor of choice, if they couldn’t even appreciate the Balvenie – and gazed reverently at Judith’s large breasts and a girl named Chelsea’s long, shining hair. Some men candidly discussed whether breasts, ass, or legs were the most enticing features of a woman… aside from her face, naturally. Most agreed that it depended, but “my eyes always go there first.” This was illustrated when Yvette happened to walk by and everyone looked at a different place on her body. Including Ethan, who admired her calves.
Calves? Calves?
In many ways this was better and worse than a rip-roaring drunken party at a seedy strip club. It was better because the air of sophistication gave it the false security of cleanliness and respectability. It was worse because these women were top tier professionals handpicked by Monica to entice and seduce. Just because they wore Chanel and the men wore Fioravanti didn’t mean the endgame wasn’t the same. Get ‘em hard so we get more money because their dicks say so. Touches here. Sweet words there. Judith always bent at the waist to show off her cleavage while Grace perched on her toes to show her subservience. Every girl had her preference, her strong points, and she wasn’t afraid to unleash them even on the married men. The only one considered untouchable was Henry, because he was the boss’s husband. Don’t shit where you’re fed, I guess. Nevertheless, someone always made sure his glass was full and that he was otherwise comfortable. He might snitch, after all.
Not that Monica couldn’t see it for herself. The moment the last expected guest arrived, she joined everyone in the lounge, keeping to her corner while she oversaw the money being made – and supposedly her friend’s enjoyment.
The only other woman not working was Adrienne, who helped Ethan down his scotch and then made it her personal duty to fill his glass and force him into conversations whenever he remained silent for too long.
Could any woman look more out of place? It wasn’t just because she was the only woman there as a guest. Monica was practically a guest herself, aside from making sure things ran smoothly, and even she was able to engage in conversations with anyone who struck one up with her. She joined Ken and Ian on their chats about fluctuating market prices. She genuinely laughed at another one of James’s dumb jokes. Monica even sashayed into a conversation about tech stocks erupting between her husband and Richard Blake. Adrienne, on the other hand, looked like she was trying to please everyone without realizing she should be relaxing as well.
Eventually, Ethan told her to sit down and have another drink. Monica glanced over her shoulder and snapped her fingers at Yvette. For some reason, that woman was chosen to take a glass to Adrienne and sit near her and Ethan for the rest of the evening.
This was the first hour of the party. Jasmine fidgeted on her chair as she watched, both intrigued and bored half to death. It wasn’t until the second hour, when every man was loosened up on alcohol, that Monica gestured to Judith, and Judith went around the room touching the other four girls on the shoulder two times.
Whatever that signal meant, things were about to get… way more interesting.
Jasmine had no idea when it happened. All five women were so smooth in their disrobing that it was like one moment they were fully clothed in their dresses, and the next they walked around in whatever flavor of undergarment they fancied. Grace leaned against her patron’s chair wearing nothing but a navy blue bra and panty set. Holly stuffed her dress behind a couch and reappeared in a plum corset like the one Jasmine wore. Judith showed the most skin with a strapless bra studded in rubies. No matter how they now dressed, they looked so comfortable that they might as well have been wearing sacks.
Ethan was the only one stiffening in his seat – and not the fun kind of stiffening.
Aw, he’s thinking of me. That’s what Jasmine hoped as Chelsea came near Ethan in her pink negligee and was quickly brushed off. The man didn’t even want to be tempted, not that he could fall into non-monogamous temptation. Not like Ken, whose hands were all over Grace, wedding ring glistening on his hand.
Chelsea turned away from Ethan, scorned, but setting her sights on a new target. “Come on, don’t you remember the fun we had that one time,” she asked Ian. “It’s been too long.”
He didn’t hide any leering in her direction, but he did whip out his phone and say that if he even so much as touched her, that thing would go off. Thanks, but no thanks.
The girls started pouring more alcohol in earnest. Soon enough, the room went from quiet, elegant conversations about stock prices and recent acquisitions, to boisterous, bawdy tales of sex and, of course, kink. Jasmine was most aghast at Richard Blake slapping Chelsea on the ass and telling her she had hot tits.
So the party went into overdrive.
Sex changed everything. So did the dimming of the lights and Holly unthreading her corset so her breasts occasionally fell out for everyone to see. Well, if she’s got the goods… Jasmine’s eyes pushed against the hole in the wall so she could better see.
“Thought I overheard you saying you liked flowery pussy,” Holly purred into David Hamilton’s ear, close to Jasmine’s spying spot. “Let me show you mine. The most flowery bud you’ve ever sunk yourself into.”
Even Jasmine needed to fan herself.
“Well, this party is heating up,” Adrienne said, eyes glued to Holly’s breasts as she sauntered to James next. These women wanted to get these guys’ cocks and money before they passed out drunk. Monica? She probably wouldn’t stop any of the married or otherwise taken men from indulging. After all, the biggest appeal of her business was the discretion she offered. As long as none of them went after Henry, she stayed mum.
Jasmine assumed she was allowed to spill beans the next time she saw Kathryn or Gwen. Assuming their boyfriends transgressed, which they had yet to do.
“All right, fess up,” James finally shouted, perhaps one of the most intoxicated men in the room. He slapped his hand on the table in front of Ethan. “What’s it going to take to get you inside one of these women?”
Ethan’s jaw clenched, but he did not lose his manners. “A lot more than you offer.”