The Hostess

Carmine shook his head as he looked at the host of Prometheus Fishbein's birthday, Fish himself. What the hell?

Angel had thrown Fish this uh, bash, but when Carmine had walked in, he'd seen Fish kneeling naked on the floor, wearing a pink ribbon around his dick.

On Fish's chest hung a sign, suspended with twine that said "SMALL PENIS BIRTHDAY BOY".

The other guests were not new, apparently to this entertainment style from the Fishbeins, as they just sort of stood around in their fancy clothes, sipping martinis and chatting.

It wasn't as if Carmine wasn't somewhat aware of Fish and Angel's peculiar relationship; in addition to servicing Fish's nice Alfa Romeo when it came to the DiCarbone garage, owned by Carmine's dad; Carmine had come over and serviced Angel as well.

Angel was a sassy ash blonde, kind of short haired but very curvy, and yes, when Carmine and Angel were getting it on one night, Angel had jumped out of bed and opened the closet door, dragging her husband out by the ear.

And Fish had been naked then as well, except for a little metal clip on the end of his dick.

"See where it locks in on his glans there, Carmine?" Angel had asked with a wink, "He can jerk his Willy all he wants, but unless I take the clip off, he can't have an accident, if you know what I mean."

Angel had then told her freaky husband that she wanted him to suck Carmine's balls while Carm fucked her...when Fish had demurred, Angel had kicked him in the stomach and then whipped her prone husband with an ivory headed walking stick.

And that had been one weird thing, Fish had put his head under Carmine's legs and had sucked on his scrotum, his head bobbing up and down as his mechanic had slammed his own dick repeatedly into Angel's quim.

Carmine had been initially revolted by this, but it did feel good having the warm mouth of the wealthiest burgomeister of South Buttermilk Falls slobbering on his grease monkey's nutsack.

Carmine now was trying not to look at Fish, and his eyes wandered to a cute little number standing by the dessert table. Wait, was she talking to Fish? She looked somewhat uncomfortable too...

But she was trying to be polite!

"Mr. Fishbein, I hope you're okay down there." Larissa tried to smile at her boss.

"I think you can call me Fish at this point, Larissa." the little man with the sign on his chest said, trying to smile.

What a nice man! Even with his bitchy wife making him do this, he was still trying to put Larissa at ease. About six weeks previous, Larissa had been called by Mrs. Angel Fishbein into the big boss's private office.

"I know, Larissa, that my husband has a little crush on you, he's always talking about how helpful you are, and how fashionably you dress...so I told him if he wants his privileges this month, he'll have to do them in front of you."

Larissa had had no idea what the fuck Mrs. Fishbein meant at the time.

And she'd been flabbergasted when Fish had begged his wife to "let him off."

"It's up to you, Fish." Mrs. Fishbein had said, smiling. "You've waited thirty days to jack off, and you can wait another thirty days, but next time it'll be in front of that parking meter-maid you like so much."

"B-but Angel, please-"Fish had said, quivering. "I don't want-want to traumatize Larissa." He tried to smile at his puzzled receptionist, who smiled back, wondering...

She had known that Mrs. F, Angel, was really kind of nasty, even if she was good looking, and she'd seen Angel slap her husband once when she'd dropped by the office-apparently Fish had forgotten to wash the breakfast dishes.

But this was wild! Angel looked over at Larissa and she'd said "If my husband doubles your Christmas bonus and gives it to you early, do you think you could keep a secret for him, no sexual harassment nonsense?"

When Angel had nodded, thinking of the vacation such a bonus might afford her and her boyfriend, Angel had nodded grimly at her husband, who had taken off his nice suit and cowered in front of the two women.

Angel had handed Larissa a little key. "Go ahead, take his guiche off."

The "guiche" apparently had been a little metal doohickey on the end of the boss's dick, and Larissa had stepped closer and unlocked it, while Fish had blanched...

And then Fish had jacked off and made a mess all over Larissa's Jimmy Choos, and then licked them clean!

After this, Fish had seemed overcome with shame, but he'd also looked up at his wife and said "That was so hot, I'm so humiliated."

And, for the past few weeks, Fish had not looked at his lowly receptionist at all, just hurried by her every morning, though he'd given her an envelope with a LOT of cash the afternoon after this incident.

And now, she was trying to find a way to distract poor Fish from his embarrassment and agony.

"Really, this is an odd way to celebrate your birthday, um, Fish." Larissa said. She was mildly flattered by Fish's eyes, which were avidly checking out her leather miniskirt.

Fish was such a nice man, unlike the lascivious salesmen who worked for him. Some of them were here tonight, and they were pointing at their employer, and laughing about the situation he seemed to be in.

"Well, Larissa, it's my birthday, and it' s a time I get focused on." Fish said, looking down awkwardly at his beribboned penis.

"Last year, Angel hired five black Masters who took turns fucking her and then giving me whippings. I know you probably aren't really aware of the BDSM lifestyle."

Larissa smiled demurely. When Larissa was still at Buttermilk State, she'd had a roommate, a butch dyke called Strider. One night when they were both a little blitzed, Larissa had asked Strider for a spanking.

And Strider had done this. She'd pulled Larissa across her knee and yanked up Larissa's skirt and pulled down her panties and had thrashed Larissa with her big hand...

Then Strider had been worried she'd gone too far, and Larissa had given her a big kiss and asked for the same thing the next day, using a curtain rod.

Eventually Larissa had graduated and she'd found a nice normal boyfriend, but it had always stayed in her mind, being a submissive. In a ways she sort of envied Fish, since it would seem that Angel was taking the reins, right?

It probably took a lot to get all these people together and have them agree not to get too shocked when the host was kneeling naked, with the ribbon around his junk. That couldn't have been all that easy for Angel, could it?

Larissa's thoughts were interrupted by one of the rude young salesmen, who stomped up, leering at the receptionist and then sneering at their naked, kneeling C.E.O.

"Having fun talking to the big shot here, 'Riss?" the salesman said as he casually kicked Fish in the side. "Last time we three were together was when Big Shot here was talkin' to me about my low numbers, right?"

Larissa looked compassionately down at Fish, who was scarlet faced. Still, Fish's dick was getting hard, even with that nasty metal guiche on it.

"You know, Muncie, if you worked a little harder, and weren't so shitty right now, you'd be far more attractive." She was just trying to get Muncie to leave the boss alone...Muncie wouldn't be attractive unless he cut his own head off, or something.

And Muncie knew it, and apparently knew he should milk this while he could, because Monday morning, he'd be the low-achieving sales schlub again, and being berated by Mr. Fishbein, who was really a business genius.

"No, I just came by to escort Boss Fish here to the bathroom. I need to take a whiz. Mrs. Fishbein-she asked me to call her Angel-said you take all pee down the throat, dude."

Now Fish looked up at Muncie with a particularly vicious loathing. "Y-yes, yes sir."

Larissa tried to smile as Fish rose and shuffled naked after the egotistical underling...

About half an hour later Muncie went upstairs, hearing his name being called by Angel, who was just so hot.

Muncie had not had the easiest time on the sales force at Caldwell, Hinton, Hewlet and Blaine. He wasn't a brain trust, and missed the old days at school when he could just run around with a football.

He might have been fired by now, for general incompetence, but Angel Fishbein, wife of the current comptroller, had taken a liking to him...Muncie liked her too, for an old broad.

She had to be pushing forty, but she was firecracker hot...dynamite even. Muncie had just peed in Angel's husband's mouth, and then jacked off in the old dude's hair.

Now old Fishbein was sucking off a row of young men in the hallway. The party was really starting to get interesting.

But Angel was easily the hottest woman there, and when she summoned Muncie, he ran!

Upstairs, Angel smiled and beckoned Muncie to come into her bedroom. Damn! This was getting better and better. Larissa, the stuck up bitch receptionist at the firm was kneeling naked on the floor, and it looked like she had a couple of long red marks on her back.

"Muncie, how are you?" Angel said with a smile. "Larissa just confessed her submissive desires to me, and I decided to test her a bit."

Muncie looked down at Larissa, who was always so cold to the guys, she was always making cutting remarks, all that kind of shit. She liked guys who went to museums, all that. Snotty.

But now she was naked and she looked humiliated and pissed off, like the last person she wanted to be this exposed to was Muncie. Kind of like Angel Fishbein's douchebag husband.

"As you are probably aware, Muncie, Larissa's feelings for you are generally revulsion...so I have ordered her to exercise her oral skills on you. I suspect that she'd do the same for my husband if she had the chance, thankfully he's locked in his guiche."

"Angel-Mrs. Fishbein, that's not-" but Larissa's protest was matched with a lash across her back. Muncie noticed that Angel Fishbein had this evil looking whip with like six tails, and she'd just given Larissa a little run for her money.

And man, was Larissa a hot little chick. Those tits are incredible. Bigger than I thought. Larissa saw him gaping and gave him a hostile look back.

But then, of course she remembered how stupid she must look, and she blushed again.

As Muncie unzipped his pants, he thought, Angel Fishbein is one hell of a chick. She knows how to give a great party!