Gas

The man looked over his handiwork: Judith openly humping the man, as his girlfriend sat by; licking, sucking and wanking going on in the shadows; and the Causton girls finally being untied and let down from their tables to join in the floorshow.

At that point, the second track kicked in.

As one, the crowd got up and began to make their way onto the dance floor. Jim and Hannah stopped what they were doing and got up to dance, naked, groin to groin, hands exploring one another’s bodies; Gemma and Michelle stopped what they were doing to Marianne and paired off with one another; the lads paired off with women they’d brought with them; only Judith and Tom and Tom’s erstwhile girlfriend remained seated, Judith gracefully humping Tom with smooth movements of her hips that sent her swelling, rosy, moist vagina sliding up and down the length of Tom’s stiff manhood.

The exhausted Causton girls found themselves up by the DJ’s booth, naked, ruddy, sweating, bathed in afterglow from their experiences.

Janet looked to Marianne, expecting her sister to look fraught, traumatised.

“I didn’t think we’d be put through that,” Janet said. “This was my idea, sneaking into a grown – up do like this. I’m sorry, Mazz.”

Marianne was leaning against the DJ booth, her back slightly arched, breasts prominently displayed with nipples standing proud. The sweat from her exertions trickled in droplets down her bare, tanned midriff, glistened in her moist thatch and coursed down her legs, mixing with vaginal juices and traces of virginal blood. Marianne’s face and neck glowed red with increasing pleasure and arousal.

“I shouldn’t be thinking this,” she said.

“What?” Janet said, suddenly feeling her own arousal.

“Looking at you ... I mean, we’re sisters and all, but ...”

Janet found herself squirming as her clitoris began to expand. “We’re naked, everyone’s getting it on, we’ve just been humped by every boy in the hall, and ...”

“And all I want ...” Marianne said, extending her arms out towards Janet, “all I want ... is to taste your clit, to put your love bead in my mouth and suck you dry.”

Janet found herself reaching for her sister, even as the guilt raced through her body, mixing her desire with a dark flavour of all of this somehow being wrong.

“I don’t want to do this,” she said, even as she found herself sighing as Marianne’s questing tongue found its way down between Janet’s breasts, down past her navel – and Janet jumped as the probing tongue tip sent a momentary shockwave of pleasure throughout her entire body – towards her waiting muff. “This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Is it making you feel bad?” Marianne asked, raising her head briefly on the threshold of Janet’s opening. She looked up at Janet, whose eyes told the whole message. Marianne smiled. “Actually, I’m feeling really dirty about this,” Marianne said.

Then Marianne’s tongue found Janet’s clitoris, and Janet gave a little gasp and a yelp of pleasure. She reached down, ran her fingers through her sister’s head as her sister went down on her.

“Please ... don’t ...” Janet said; but she knew, even as she was saying this, that all it was doing was making Marianne’s probings even more fervent, even as it made them both feel dirtier and dirtier with every lick, every rimming of Janet’s labia with her sister’s tongue.

After a short, short time, the pressure became too much for Janet to bear, and with a tiny cry of release, she climaxed.

Marianne’s head lifted up from where it had explored her sister’s mysteries. Her face was red, slick with juices, sweat, saliva and thin smears of blood.

“My turn, now,” was all she said.

And the DJ changed the track.

*

Track 3 couldn’t even be called music. It was just a rapid drumbeat, like the sound of a human heartbeat, repeating over and over, sending the dancing crowd into an erotic frenzy of excitement. Bodies previously dancing with arms about waists and shoulders now started dancing, groin against groin, whirling about, sweat flying from drenched hair and faces and bare arms.

Then the drumbeat began to slow; and as if by some invisible command, the bodies on the dance floor, those still dressed, began to strip slowly, pressing bare flesh to bare flesh, dancing wildly as they slowly. Teasingly, discarded shirts, T – shirts, blouses, trousers and short skirts.

Bare midriffs became even barer as first bras and knickers and underpants, and then gradually nothing at all, became the common sight. Freshly – naked bodies, dripping with sweat, flushed with exertion and arousal, pressed against naked bodies aching for penetration and release. Eager hands caressed breast, chin, buttock, thigh, shoulder, penis, glans, testicles, bush and vulva; labias happily accepted thrusting phalluses, red tipped and swollen stiff; fingers and tongues found clitorises and erections, and lips of mouths and cunts closed around stiffies with soft sighs.

The man watched as the dance floor became a writhing sea of dancing, probing naked bodies, humping and sucking and fucking with mad abandon. The music steadied at its slowest: this was the time when all one’s inhibitions were finally cast aside.

The teasing and foreplay were over. Time to get down to it.

The DJ flipped a switch, and suddenly the music, and the lights, stopped dead. The only sounds anyone could hear were soft breathing, moans, sighs, and the silken sounds of forty or fifty naked couples, totally lost to the trance induced by the gas, rubbing against one another, bare skin to bare skin, humping and licking and fucking like there was no tomorrow.

The man suddenly felt soft, gentle hands grasp his testicles, and tongues caressing his own penis, grown solid and stiff from watching the unrestrained sex all around him. He looked down, saw two indistinct shapes, their heads bobbing around his groin.

“Who’s this one, Janet?” whispered one.

“Who gives a shit who he is, Mazz?” said the other, between laps of her tongue. “All I want to do is to suck someone’s cock off. He’s closest.”

“Yeah, he’ll do,” Mazz replied, before her lips went around the man’s cock and she began to fellate him eagerly.

*

Eight months on.

Whoever the man was, neither Judith nor Hannah ever saw him again. Nor did they really care who he’d been, nor why he’d done what he’d done to them all.

“Mum, the DJ’s sent us another letter!” Hannah said, as she wandered into the living room, holding the mail which had dropped through the letterbox that morning. Still in her dressing gown, with nothing on underneath, Hannah went over to the ashtray where her cigarette was burning. Picking it up, she took a deep drag of it, and sat down to read her mail.

In Judith’s bedroom, Judith stood naked in front of the net curtains, letting the sun’s rays warm her body. Blue smoke from her cigarette rose around her; she blew out a stream of smoke, turned to where Jim and Tom lay, exhausted, in the bed. Tom snored gently.

Judith took another drag of her cigarette, stubbed it out in the crystal ashtray on the unit beside the double bed, blew the last streamer of blue smoke over Tom, who coughed softly but didn’t wake up.

Naked still, Judith walked out of her room, and into Hannah’s room, where the soft snores of Chris and Mike could be heard. They’d all been together for eight months, now, since the club: and all four men had been fiercely loyal to the two women, never straying from their side.

Whatever the man had done to the two women, he’d left them a gift: they’d be thoroughly sexed up for the rest of their lives.

Judith came downstairs, saw Hannah in the living room reading the mail. Her legs were open, revealing everything: the windows were uncovered, and potentially everybody in the street could see Hannah’s yoni without effort.

“The DJ says that he’s been to some freaky parties,” Hannah said, “but he’s never been to one as freaky as the one he staged eight months ago.” She took a drag of her cigarette. “He’s sent a copy of the CD he played at the event. He says he wants us to give us something to remember that night.” She looked up, her face wreathed in blue smoke. “Like we’d ever forget.”

“You shouldn’t be smoking,” Judith said to Hannah, as Hannah drew on her cigarette, blowing blue smoke upwards into the air of the room. Judith leaned forwards over Hannah for the cigarettes and the lighter, lit up one herself. They both stood there, smoking, feeling intensely guilty about it and horny as hell.

“What time did you get up?” Judith asked.

“Six,” Hannah replied. “I’ve got finals to sit.”

“You’ll sail through them,” Judith said.

“Yeah,” Hannah said, putting out the stub of the cigarette. She paused. “Mum, can we swap men again, like the other night? I’d like to fuck Tom tonight. He’s been gasping for me again.”

“And we can’t have him getting fixated on just one of us, can we?” Judith chuckled. “Okay, just Tom. I don’t want it to end up like two weeks back, with everyone of us in the same bed.”

“Three nights, just the six of us,” Hannah said. “That was fantastic.”

The doorbell rang. Judith turned to face the hallway, and the front door. “Who’s that?” Hannah asked. “It’s half past eight.” Then she remembered. “Oh God, I almost forgot,” she said. “Gemma and Michelle wanted to drop by for some social sex with the boys before they went to Amsterdam for their holidays. I told them to come on over.”

Judith looked mildly disapprovingly at Judith. “You should’ve said earlier,” she said. Then she went to the door to let the girls in.

“Hi, Judith,” said the girls. Gemma and Michelle stood in the doorway. Michelle was smoking; Gemma was already crushing out her cigarette underfoot.

Whatever else the man seemed to like, Judith mused as she let the girls in, he seemed to have had a huge fetish for women smoking, especially under conditions where they shouldn’t smoke. Maybe it was one of his fetishes that his subjects should be made to feel dirty, as if they were breaking some great taboo of their own free will.

Or maybe he was just a perv who got off on women smoking.

Michelle was the first to kiss Judith deeply, lovingly, her mouth tasting of nicotine and alcohol as her tongue probed Judith’s mouth, their saliva mingling on Judith’s tongue. Gemma was next, kissing Judith as she inserted her fingers into Judith’s slit up to the second knuckle. Then Gemma and Michelle kissed one another deeply, before heading into the living room to do the same to Hannah. When they were done greeting Hannah with their fingers up her cunt, the girls filed past Judith, touching her bare breasts as they went past, and leaving traces of Hannah’s and her vaginal juices all over her nipples.

Closing the door behind her, Judith went into the living room, where Hannah was sitting on the sofa, her dressing gown on the floor. Hannah was naked, and her legs were wide apart, facing Judith.

“Hannah, no,” Judith said. In response, Judith rubbed her fingers over her wet patch.

“Hannah,” Judith said, getting on her knees, “it’s wrong. I’m your mother.” Again, Hannah said nothing, just continued rubbing her clitoris in her mother’s face, her face mixing elation and arousal with guilt and disgust in equal measure.

Judith felt the sweat starting at the fringe, working its way down her face, felt her own bush start to get moist. Her face bent lower, closer to Hannah’s busy fingers. “Oh, all right then,” she said, before her tongue began to lap at her daughter’s crack. “Just until the boys come down ...”

*

In another part of the country, a dentist closed the appointments book for his practice. The entire afternoon had just been cancelled: he’d just come off the phone with the last client, informing the old girl she’d had her root canal delayed for 48 hours.

He’d been planning something all week: today, it was finally going to happen.

He got up from the reception desk, crossed the empty waiting room and turned into the corridor on the far side. The dentist had quietly dismissed his two partners in practice, giving them both an entire afternoon free. The fact that they were already his compliant slaves helped them to accept his generosity.

So that left him alone, in the office, with an entire afternoon free to himself. And it was lunchtime, which meant that the only other occupants in the practice were already all in the staffroom, totally unaware that whatever the afternoon was going to bring to them, it would not involve dentistry.

The staffroom windows were closed, locked, unopenable and damn near airtight. The door to the staffroom had panes of frosted glass in a ribbed pattern, through which the room’s occupants could be seen in the darkened corridor without anybody in the room being able to see who was outside.

The locks on the door frequently stuck. This was due to the fact that the doorlock had been rigged by remote control to latch, defying all attempts to open it once closed. The nurses had complained about it in the past, but that had been during the trial period for the lock: the dentist had been happy with its ability to firmly lock in whoever was in the room, and hadn’t used the remote since.

Until today.

The dentist peered into the corridor, heard four voices coming from the staffroom. The door was closed. Quickly, he found the little remote master lock, flipped the switch. The lock silently locked and deadbolted, sealing the nurses in.

Satisfied, the dentist went over to reception, where he stripped naked. In his office nearby, he had his bag, and a couple of cylinders attached to a hose and a medical breathing mask. The dentist took out the gas mask in the bag, slipped it on.

Then he made his way, his erection growing, to the locked door of the staffroom. Inside were four female nurses, chatting, having their lunch, smoking. As he watched, he saw one of them lean forwards. That was the one with the red frizzy hair and the stylish glasses. The nurse leaned back. There was a flare of yellow. She’d lit up one.

That was it. The dentist, anticipation stiffening his cock and making his breath ragged, pulled out the medical mask and fixed it to the door, over the second lock, a big traditional keyhole – shaped lock without a key. This lock’s only function was to act as a conduit to let the gas into the room.

The man bent down, listening to the nurses chat, and turned on the knob. Gas from two cylinders began to pour into the locked, sealed room.

The dentist stood and waited until the gas started to take its effect. The last time, he’d had to mix his experimental compound, which induced a sense of hypnotic compliance in its subjects at the same time as it suppressed inhibitions, with an anaesthetic, so that he could implant his hypnotic suggestions without interference.

Since that time, the dentist had found that the effects of his trance – inducing agent were greatly enhanced if the gas he mixed it with was nitrous oxide - laughing gas.

Soon, the gas started to have its effect. The dentist's breath caught in anticipation as first one of the nurses, then two, and soon all four, found themselves unaccountably starting to giggle, then laugh uncontrollably, while all the time the gas continued to pour into the room, getting stronger and stronger with every breath the nurses took.

Hissssss...