Chapter 5: A Strange Party

George and Mary arrived at the jazz club at the appointed time. The band was in full swing in the middle of a set. They spotted a familiar young woman's face at the back of the smoke filled club near a door. They approached, handed over their dollar, and passed through the door.

In the room, the three couples already in attendance greeted them. "Well if it isn't George Rush! What brings you back here, old man? With Mary? Jones?" Chuck Annenberg was speechless. Mary had been considered a total square.

"Cut the old man crap, Chuck," said George. "I'm only two years older than you."

"Oh, but all the rules have changed, my good man! You don't know what you're in for. But I'll let Liz Edwards, our master of ceremonies, explain."

Liz stepped up to Mary with a pair of scissors. "This will never do," she said. Mary was dressed in conventional attire for a young lady: a modest blouse with long sleeves and a high collar and what appeared to be an ankle length skirt. "We have a dress code. Are you sure you want to proceed? If you leave, you'll still forfeit your dollar."

"This old thing?" replied Mary, "Do what you will."

Liz chuckled and scissored Mary's high neckline into a ragged low cut one, exposing much of her brassiere underneath. She also scissored off Mary's long sleeves, leaving a very revealing and low cut mess of a blouse that was easy to reach through, resulting in hoots and hollers from the other now five couples in the room and a pained look from George that tried to say, "Let me take you away from this viper pit."

Liz moved down to Mary's modest skirt. "What have we here?" she chuckled with delight, for Mary's skirt was not a skirt at all but long flowing baggy pants that looked like a skirt. These were Aikido pants custom made for Mary in Japan. Liz started by scissoring off the legs of the pants above the knee, which was a higher cut than the knee length flapper dresses of the other girls. When she was done with that, Liz gently cut up Mary's inseam, leaving a kind of skirt with sizeable but not entirely revealing splits up the front and back. The assembled crowd of couples could easily see that Mary was not wearing a slip underneath, only a pair of white silk panties.

The hazing of her attire had been brutal, but Mary accepted it willingly, feeling like it was helping her to move from her normal life into this new life of rooms full of lusty young men and scantily clad young women. She had borne it without complaint, and she could see that her reaction had garnered her some grudging respect among the surly and cynical youth present.

As more couples arrived and chatted with one another, Mary pulled Liz's date Chuck aside. He was a ringleader of many pranks, including perhaps the one involving the Old Cock. His face and lip had a disfiguring scar. Some girls might disagree, but she thought he was all the handsomer for it. "I'm curious, Chuck," she began coyly, "Where is the Old Cock?"

"Right now it's in my pants," Chuck joked with her gleefully, "But if you insist later, I'll get it out and let it crow for you."

"You know what I mean," she responded with an eye roll. "I'm serious. A priceless photo of my departed mother is in there, and my father is beside himself."

"Oh Mary, I didn't know it was serious. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you." He added, "If you must know, I wasn't responsible, but I know who was. You'll have to talk to Art when he arrives."

"Thank you, Chuck," Mary concluded, and walked back to George despondently. Art was a tall gaunt blond boy from her graduating class, though she didn't know if he had actually managed to graduate. He was smart enough, but was a wild boy who she knew had been sweet on her but she had always avoided. She didn't relish the task of trying to wheedle information out of him while deflecting his inappropriate behavior towards her, especially not in front of George, who might very well step in and punch him in the kisser if he got out of hand. Of course, that might be disastrous.

A dozen couples were by now in attendance. "Let me state the rules to remind those in attendance and those we haven't seen for a while," Liz said, pointedly looking at George, "because the rules have changed."

"As you can see, we have drawn up twelve of our little love seats in a circle so we can watch each other carefully and make sure there's no hanky-panky." This followed by laughter from the assembled couples. "There's one love seat for each of our brave couples. I will use this egg timer here to time one minute intervals. Every time the timer rings, us girls will get up and move clockwise one love seat." George almost gasped in shock. Mary's eyes widened a bit before she recovered her composure.

This was a bit more exploration than she had bargained for, but she was not yet ready to leave. George looked at her, trying to discern whether she was really okay with all this. Mary looked back at him constantly, thinking that surely he would not regret very much kissing and fondling those eleven other young and pretty girls a little. She was not certain she was ready to fondle eleven other horny young men, but this certainly was to be a thorough exploration of petting at least!

"We will start with a round of kissing and fondling fully clothed and above the waist, are we clear? After each pair has had their minute, we will move to the next round.

"In the next round, again twelve one minute intervals, us girls will bare our breasts like the amazons of old and allow our male friends to ravage them as they see fit. Also, any of our men who like their nipples kissed, I like to do it, so join us girls and bare those nipples.

"In round three, fondling is now allowed below the waist but fully clothed, slips and panties, and pants stay buttoned for the men. Sorry, Mary" There were chuckles, because it was clear that Mary in her ravaged clothing was not afforded the extra barrier of a slip.

"In round four we can touch anywhere, but no touching nakedness below the waist with anything except our fingers and hands.

"Round five is for us to handle any of our men who are left unsatisfied by the end of round four, since we know this is an unhealthy state for our men, and we want to make sure they remain healthy. It's rare that any of our men require round five, but if one happens to slip through, Ethel will do the honors as usual. If there is more than one, we are really off our game, and Flo, Virginia, Grace, and Thelma are prepared to handle any overflow. Needless to say, we will definitely handle all the men by the time the hour concludes."

The couples were now all milling around to their positions, and there was no time to pull Art aside for questions. She would just have to do it during their one minute intervals. George and Mary sat down on their loveseat. "I've never kissed anyone before," she confessed to him.

"Begin!" shouted Liz.

George touched his lips to Mary's, and she could feel the caring in his touch. They kissed this way a couple more times until George started opening his mouth more, and Mary followed suit. It felt better and better until they touched tongues as the timer's ding signaled the end of the first minute.

Mary moved to the next love seat as instructed and sat down next to Frank, a pleasant enough boy from school only a few inches taller than she. He gave her a deft smooch, which she tried her best to respond to, being so suddenly in the arms of another man. He put a hand on her clothed breast and asked "May I?" she nodded, and he grabbed her close with one muscular arm and kissed her with a lot of tongue, which made her a bit dizzy, while rubbing her breast through her bra, which made both her nipples stand erect almost instantly, and then, still kissing her with a passionate tongue, started to tweak one nipple. She could actually feel her vagina getting wetter from this. Then the timer went off, and they came up for air.

Mary sat down next to Walt. She had seen him around. His face was terribly pocked with pimples, but she liked his bright red hair, and close up, he had these brilliant green eyes, so she just looked him in his beautiful eyes and gave him a smack on the lips, which made him gasp and say "I've always been very fond of you, Mary."

Awkward. She knew a lot of these boys had wanted her at some point and probably still did, and up until now, she'd been uninterested. For now, she didn't want the complication, except maybe with George, only the experience. She responded, "Kiss me, then," which she thought should be encouraging, and then gave him another little starting kiss. She didn't want to climb all over him, especially since he was already struggling with this other stuff.

They kissed without really touching tongues a couple more times. He seemed pretty emotionally overwhelmed giving or receiving her kisses. Then the timer rang.

Harry Everson was a huge muscular hairy ape of a man. Without a word, he overshadowed her on his loveseat as he leaned down to kiss her at first gently, but then with increasing excitement. This was a welcome relief after Walt. Yes, less awkward announcements and a lot more kissing was good. Harry started feeling her breasts, too, at first on top of her dress, but then, since it was so available, through her bra. It was sexy to have this huge powerful man getting so excited for her. She lost herself in sensation for a small time, and then the timer rang again.

Finally she got to Art. She straddled him on his loveseat, effectively pinning him, and asked him in an insistent whisper, "Where did you hide the Old Cock? And no joking, I've heard it." She felt the insistent pulse of his penis on her crotch, with luckily his pants and her panties intervening. His breath was thick with cigarette smoke, which made her sick. He grabbed and yanked at her nipples until she batted his hands away. Was he trying to hurt her? "No playing until you tell me," she insisted.

"All right, I'll tell you, if you let me stick in a finger."

Mary swallowed hard. His fingernails were dirty. "All right." He had already worked his hands under the tatters of her pants. He pulled aside her panties with one hand and thrust in a dry finger. She was already wet enough that it slid in easily, thankfully. She could feel his fingernail scrape her.

Arthur spoke, holding his disgusting finger inside her. "If you must know, I threw it down Simpson's Ravine. They'll never get it up from there."

"Thank you. Kindly remove your finger now."

Art slid it up and down in her a few times with a sneer. "Maybe I'll steal more stuff from around town so I get to finger you again." Thankfully, at that point, the timer rang, and Mary extricated herself from Art's finger and presence quickly.

(To be continued)