The Shoebox Ch. 05

"Well, Pricilla, you seem to enjoy putting your little slut through her paces!"

There were a few quiet gasps around the table as these words left my lips; words that I immediately wished I could have taken back. Pricilla raised her eyebrows and allowed the hushed silence around the table to sink into Beth's psyche. She seemed to be pleasantly surprised at my retort and was clearly looking for a way to up the ante. She looked quickly at the Master of Ceremonies as if for guidance. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod as she broke into a wide grin.

Pricilla stared at me with an evil smile as she fished down into the bodice of Beth's dress and cupped her hands under Beth's plump breasts. With one movement, she pushed down the top of Beth's dress with her forearms and pulled Beth's creamy tits out over the top for all to see! She then displayed them to those surrounding the table, one in each hand, and spoke to me in a voice dripping with eroticism:

"These breasts are like a fine musical instrument, Dr. Sharp. With a little practice, one can learn to make beautiful music."

With those words, Pricilla cruelly squeezed Beth's now aroused and engorged nipples until they were white and bloodless and slowly pulled those beautiful but abused breasts out from Beth's body until they were impossibly and painfully stretched. Beth screwed her eyes shut and arched her back in pain as she gripped the edge of the table with white knuckles. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream as she bore the humiliation and pain of Pricilla's cruel public torture.

I felt as if it I were the cause of this horrible spectacle and was beside myself with panic.

"ENOUGH!" I shouted.

Pricilla stared at me defiantly for about two seconds and then, with a flourish, released Beth's tortured nipples and allowed her breasts to spring back into place. As the blood began rushing back into Beth's nipples, she began to tremble and whimper and then slumped down with her head and breasts pressed to the table.

It was clear to everyone around the table that Beth had experienced a powerful orgasm at Pricilla's hands under the most unusual of circumstances. Both Pricilla and the Master of Ceremonies smiled triumphantly. I was frozen in place, unable to move or to think. Then I heard the sound of one person clapping – then two. Before I knew it, all those around me were politely applauding this obscene performance.

Mortified that I was the direct cause of this sordid display I was about to chide Pricilla's conduct, but I decided that nothing was to be gained by saying or doing anything further. I was a fish out of water and I was not here to judge these people by my own standards. This was their world, not mine, and it was not up to me to decide what was, or was not, appropriate in that world.

I wheeled around in disgust and walked quickly away from the table. I was disgusted as much with my own complicity in this scene as I was with Pricilla for engineering it. As I tried to get my bearings and find my husband in the crowd, I realized that I was sexually aroused – extremely aroused. The gusset of my panties was so wet, for a moment I thought that I had a small bout of incontinence and had urinated. I began to blush and feel flustered hoping that the scent of my arousal would not be obvious to anyone close to me. Embarrassed and confused I hurriedly searched for Sid's massive form among the lingering crowd of people.

But, like a moth to a flame, I was compelled to take one more look back at the table. Beth was sitting up, her clothes properly adjusted. Her face was glowing. She looked beautiful; a blissful smile was on her face as she looked lovingly up at Priscilla. The Master of Ceremonies took Beth's elbow and indicated that she should stand. Her knees seemed rubbery, so both he and Pricilla gently supported her between them, turned and walked out the side door of the room.

* * * *

I finally spotted Sid leaning against the bar, speaking to Willy. As I got nearer, Willy reached up and took a martini glass from the hanging rack as he continued his animated conversation with my husband.

"Yes, sir, Dr. Weisberg," he whispered in a conspiratorial voice taking me into his circle of confidence, "this here group is on its best behavior tonight. Always are on the open forum nights when they invite newcomers and gawkers, like yourselves."

As he spoke, Willy mixed a vodka martini, occasionally glancing my way. I put my arm through Sid's elbow and hung on for dear life. Willy held up a toothpick with two olives for my inspection and plopped them unceremoniously into my glass, handing me my drink as if I were a regular. I don't think I ever wanted a drink more than at that moment.

"Anyways, you should see what goes on here on the nights when you regular folk aren't around. Jesus B. Christ, you wouldn't believe what I seen here over the years."

Willy leaned forward and looked around with a cautious air and winked at Sid.

"And on the closed session nights, I hear almost anything goes! Not that I been to one of them. No sir, they don't allow no staff up here during those meetin's! But Lou, he looks after things on those nights, you know, and he tells me some of the things he's walked in on. Doctor, you wouldn't believe the stories he tells!"

Willy rolled his eyes theatrically and winked at us. I really wasn't in the mood to hear Willy's second-hand gossip – especially since I had seen the pictures from the Shoebox. I took a few more sips of my drink and asked Willy directions to the ladies room. He gestured to a hallway near where we standing and told us that the lavatories were down that hall. Then he leaned forward and whispered to Sid in a concerned voice:

"Doctor, sir, you'd better accompany the lady. No tellin' what might be goin on in that hallway with this crew here tonight."

* * * * *

We thanked Willy, bid him goodnight and walked arm in arm down the hallway toward the restrooms. The sound of talking and tinkling glasses faded as we padded down the wide, carpeted foyer past various couches, potted plants and alcoves.

As we approached the restrooms we noticed a small group of people who had congregated in the seating alcove just past the restroom entrance on the other side of the corridor. Although there was a grandfather clock partially shielding this area from our vantage point, I could make out Pricilla's dress and surmised that she was one of the people there.

Sid grabbed my elbow tightly as he craned his neck trying to get a better view. He gently but firmly drew me across the hallway to a better vantage point near the clock where we could observe what was going on in the alcove without being seen.

Like two voyeurs, we peeked into the shadowy seating area. A perverse tableau unfolded before our eyes, a scene which was disturbingly familiar. An uncomfortable feeling of deja vue began to envelope my consciousness like a fog and, for a moment, I felt as if I were in a dream. Then it hit me!

We were staring at a scene that was taken directly out of the Shoebox!

[Continued in Chapter 6]