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Kumar In Society

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"Holy shit, Vanessa." Kumar's eyes moved from the champagne bottles nestled in buckets of ice to the heavy velvet curtains and the silk business suits of the women milling around the room, leading men in various states of dress around on leashes, or strapping them on chairs, or fucking them in the middle of the floor.

"I told you," Vanessa said with a grin. "The high end people know how to party."

She was wearing a black and white number from her political period, and Kumar was struck once more by the incongruity of conservative rich America and his Vanessa walking through it like she owned it, somehow passing for one of them. Then again, this crowd was just about wild enough for her. Was this conservative? Thinking too much now. Kumar reached for his emergency pocket bong and took a quick drag.

"Speaking of which, honey, there's a strict no-jeans policy here, so you'll have to strip. Come here." Vanessa took his arm and lead him aside to a richly furnished bedroom, gleaming and sterile in its perfection. "You know the deal, right?" she asked him as she began to pull off his T-shirt. "You're here as my pet, so you do whatever I say, and you can get more pussy than you can handle. But you don't speak unless spoken to, and if a woman gives you an order, you follow it. Doesn't have to be me."

"Yeah, 'cause I'm so good with rules." Nonetheless, little Kumar was ready to go.

"Well, if you can't handle it, we can just go." Vanessa smiled, her hand hovering over Kumar's trouser buttons. She knew he'd not argue. She knew him well.

She left him his shoes and socks. The rest of his things she stuffed in a duffel bag in the corner. "Bend over, honey," she told him sweetly as she pulled out a harness from the bag.


The dinner was crab. Of course it was. Anything else would be too easy to eat. Kumar poked at the creature with his fork to make sure it was dead.

He shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't the nudity so much as it was the buttplug strapped inside his ass. He must really love Vanessa. He glanced at her, sitting beside him. She gave him an encouraging, euphoric smile, and squeezed his hand under the table cloth.

Yeah. True fucking blue.

Across the table, an older woman sat in the lap of a man whose face was bright red, as if he was about to have a heart attack. He was strapped to the chair, and she had her skirt hitched up, and considering the kind of a party it was, was probably holding his dick inside her.

He thought she looked familiar. A lot of the people around here did. Where had he seen them? The news...?


"Oh, God," Kumar managed before his nose was roughly shoved into a hairy pussy.

"Lick me, bitch," said the woman harshly, tugging sharply at his hair, just once. He did as he was told. She tasted bitter, and smelled like soap and rubber, but he shoved his tongue inside her and his nose up against her clit, and she rolled her hips against his face with an approving grunt.

"Shh," said Vanessa soothingly, petting Kumar's back, and shoved her strap-on inside him. She grabbed hold of his thighs to push in deeper.

Beneath him, the strange young man whimpered, and his spasm clutched Kumar's cock tightly in his ass.

As they began to hobble towards a rhythm, Kumar wondered briefly how Harold was doing. He hadn't seen him since Maria had led him towards the kitchen.


Vanessa hadn't lied. There really was such a thing as 'more pussy than you can handle'. Kumar's legs were barely working by the time Vanessa supported him back to the bedroom and the duffel bag and his clothes. At least he was clean now, even if he'd been fucked by another three women in the jacuzzi.

"You were so brave," Vanessa told him, her smile wide and wicked. "Poor boy!"

"Holy shit, Vanessa!" he repeated.

"It's all right. I'll get you to bed, and you've got nothing on tomorrow anyway. Let's just hope no-one pages you at the hospital."

"Where's Roldy?" Kumar asked as he struggled back into his clothes. "He's not still going, is he?"

Vanessa shrugged. "Maria will get him home, if she hasn't already. Come on. Taxi's waiting. Let me take care of you."


"That was the worst orgy I've ever been to," Harold complained as he flipped over the breakfast pancakes. "Ten minutes in, Maria was screwing some spidery chick like I wasn't even there, and I just kinda ended up playing video games with a couple of big naked dudes upstairs for two hours."

"Um, yeah." Kumar toyed with his brownie, shifting only slightly on the soft couch. "Yeah, it was pretty bad."

"I didn't see you or Vanessa all evening. You left early, right?"


"Man, you should've come to find me first, it took ages before Maria was done." Harold turned around to slip the pancakes on a plate and looked up at Kumar's profile, out in the adjoining living room. He frowned, and set the pan back down. "You didn't leave early, did you."

"Just because you can't handle a room full of horny pussy doesn't mean I shouldn't." Kumar spread his arms.

"You are so full of shit."

"Whatever. The pancakes smell good. Can I..."

"No," said Harold, and piled all the pancakes on his own plate.