the party

Since today is Valentine's day, I think a post is in order. Consequently, here's another glimpse from the Steampunk erotic romance I've been writing. The editing is nearly complete now, at which point I hope to be able to release it through a major online publisher - for now, I hope you enjoy the excerpt...

roger xxx

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The Hellfire Club was pretty much the tackiest name Emma could imagine for a night club, and it had embarrassed her to even repeat the name to the cab driver. The club was situated at the far end of Denmark Street, and from the outside it didn't look especially exotic. If anything, it was precisely the kind of venue she had previously avoided. You could never really tell from the exterior whether such places were small and intimate or dark and decidedly grungy.

Outside, however, it was clear that the clientèle this evening were somewhat exclusive. A small queue of party-goers were making their way into the venue, all of them clad in similar gothic style to Emma. Silk and velvet was in abundance. Most of the women (and a smaller proportion of the men) were wearing collars of one kind or another and a great deal of naked flesh was on display.

Emma had thought her own outfit was daring, but hers was positively conservative in comparison to the decadent fetish wear that some of the attendees were wearing. The predominant colour was black, laced through with reds and purples. High heels were in abundance and the few skirts on display were short enough to hardly be called skirts. The gentlemen were suited and booted in velvet and suede, with canes and top hats, many wearing goggles to offset the look. Emma regretted not wearing her own. She knew that they suited her, and they might have helped her feel a little less naked.

Emma and Jones were quickly waved into the club by the bouncer on the door. Emma slipped a little nervously out of her topcoat and handing it to the girl on reception. Despite the decadent costumes of the other people walking into the club, Emma still couldn't avoid the feeling that she was attending the night club in her underwear. But she carried herself as best she could, Jones accompanying her and walking discreetly behind her, brandishing his cane waggishly.

The small staircase opened out into a sizeable, dimly lit area, much larger than Emma had assumed from the door outside. There was a large dance floor right at the foot of the stairs. Three different bar areas were scattered around the spacious room. Three or four comfortable seating areas were situated here and there, with decadently covered furnishings. A further staircase led to a gallery above, with more sofas and tables and a lavish white grand piano. This place was much bigger than she could have imagined from outside, and clearly extended underneath much of the street.

The lighting in the club was low, peppered by neon décor and flashing, spinning globes. Pools of gaslight in astonishing colours flickered throughout the room. Music was playing through the sound system, with giant horns feeding the latest gramophone chart hits through the club.

A few of the attendees were already dancing, whilst others gathered at the bar ordering drinks. At the moment it resembled nothing more than a typical night club, though Emma had a feeling the evening was likely to heat up as the night went on. All being well she and Jones would have made their excuses and be long gone before anything too kinky started taking place.

Not that she was against seeing that kind of thing, of course, but her nerves were currently battling her curiosity, and her nerves were definitely winning. She absolutely didn't want to end up being the star of the show in this place.

The party appeared to get off to a relatively normal start, the doors closed once all the guests had finally arrived, music playing, alcohol in abundant supply and plenty of dancing. Even Emma and Jones were indulging in the pleasure of it all, Jones taking her for a delightful spin across the dance floor, his grace and poise breathtaking. Was there nothing this man didn't excel at? She wondered if courses in such social graces were given to the more experienced Steam Agents, and at the same time wondered how quickly she would be allowed to sign up to every one of them herself. Sometimes she felt almost clumsy around him, but he always smiled at her so softly.

And then the strippers arrived.

Emma had finally relaxed, sat at a table with Jones as they caught their breath from the previous dance, feeling as though she had worried too much, but now it was clear that the real entertainment was about to begin. As soon as the grinding music had struck up over the gramophones and the four men had taken their places on the dance floor, Emma raised her eyebrow critically.

“Looks like the cheese has finally arrived,” she whispered to Jones. He laughed softly in return.

Her first instinct had been to suggest to Jones that they leave, but Jones dissuaded her. “If we depart this early we'll seem like prudes,” he said, “just relax and enjoy yourself. They're not so bad looking after all.” He smiled wryly at her.

And he had made a particularly good point. As the routine began and the dancers moved to the music, she had to admit that she was enjoying the show. Shirts were quickly tugged off from hunky male chests and trousers were easily discarded, and despite the shallowness of the performance she could definitely see the aesthetic appeal of these four young men. They were choreographed perfectly, and by the time they were down to minimal g-strings, Emma was definitely having a good time. So it turned out that she liked watching strippers dance. Who would have realised it?

But the strippers' act didn't end there. With the atmosphere in the club suddenly feeling wilder and a little more tense, copious cheering came from various women sat at the tables around the dance floor who clearly wanted to see more. Happy to oblige the demands, each of the strippers strolled from the dance floor and began to mingle amongst the tables, still dancing to the increasingly sensual music, smiling and laughing as one or two women amongst the tables got a little braver, touching the dancers as they walked by, eager to get closer to them.

Emma eased back in her seat, relieved that they'd chosen a table towards the back of the club. She wasn't quite ready for this level of audience participation. And yet she couldn't help feeling her breath quicken as she saw one of the crowd of seated ladies sliding her hand across a dancer's g-string, smiling up at the man lustfully when he happily allowed her to continue. Emma drew in her breath when the woman tugged the g-string down the dancer's strong, exquisitely muscled thighs to reveal a sizeable, beautiful looking cock. The dancer wiggled in front of the woman's face, almost mocking her with it.

Around them amongst the tables, the other dancers were becoming equally as intimate, not stopping the young women when they touched them, allowing them to remove the loosely tied g-strings. Pretty soon all four dancers were completely naked as they swayed to the rhythms, enjoying the attention of the women.

Emma wasn't sure which way to look. The four dancers all looked so very beautiful, so perfectly chiselled. She wondered if she'd have been able to resist touching them herself were they to move closer, but she reigned herself in. She had determined that decadence would be at a minimum whilst they were there. Kruger didn't need to see just how wild she could become when she was aroused. She was definitely saving that pleasure for Jones when they got back to her apartment.

Or at least, that's what she was trying to tell herself. And yet she couldn't take her eyes from that first dancer, wiggling his hips so provocatively in front of the woman at her table. The woman's friends were watching and giggling now as she ran her fingertips up along his thigh, working her way up. The dancer smiled at her and moved closer, giving her an absolute invitation to go further, his cock seeming a little swollen now, semi-erect as he danced in front of her, enjoying teasing her, revelling in the power of it.

Emma couldn't help but wonder how far the dancer would go, finding herself unable to look away. She had never seen anything like this done in public before – a naked man virtually waving his semi-erect cock in front of a woman's face right in the middle of the nightclub, in full view of everyone, and no-one seemed to mind. If anything, the woman's friends were encouraging both of them, egging them on. Emma was fascinated and appalled in equal measure. She was also becoming rather delightfully aroused.

The woman was having none of it, not at all ready to be taunted by the dancer. As her friends cheered her on, she slipped her hand around the base of the dancer's cock and took gentle hold, literally taking the upper hand, sliding her fingers along his length, stroking him delightfully as he moved in front of her.

Emma's gaze was still firmly fixed on them. It was clear what the woman was planning to do, and Emma was amazed that she was brave enough to do it in front of her friends, in front of everyone here. Emma could also feel herself starting to throb between her thighs, anticipating the woman's next move.

And suddenly there it was – as the dancer slipped his hand through her hair, drawing her closer to him, the woman smiled up at him, steered the head of his growing cock towards her lips and took him eagerly into her mouth, practically devouring his cock in her eagerness. The dancer looked down at her intently, clearly groaning softly as his cock slid between her lips, pushing it deeper, his grip firmer in her hair as she licked and sucked his hardening penis, her tongue swirling over and around him, lapping at him.

Without even thinking, Emma found her hand straying to Jones' thigh, gripping onto it as she watched the dancer shoving his cock deeper into the woman's mouth, her friends eagerly cheering her on.

Emma had never seen such wanton behaviour in such a public place, with so many other people around them. The woman was sucking the dancer's cock exquisitely and she clearly didn't care that her friends were watching. If anything, she seemed to be enjoying being so bold.

And yet the woman wasn't alone in such behaviour. Encouraged by her brashness, women in the other tables close to them were becoming equally eager in their appreciation of the gorgeous young dancers moving amongst them. The other three men were now also completely naked, two of them being eagerly masturbated by the giggling women around them, their cocks delightfully erect, the third dancer speaking softly into a seated girl's ear, smiling as she nodded and picking her up in his arms, departing with her into a darker corner of the room.

“Perhaps you're right,” Jones whispered, “maybe we should think about leaving. I think the real party is about to take place. It's getting a little wild in here. Are you still okay?”

Emma slid her hand along Jones' thigh, holding him in place, turning to face him, realising she was a little flushed and hoping he wouldn't notice. “Would you mind if we watched... just for a little while? I know it's bad of me and I realise this is all a bit cheesy, but it would be rather lovely to spectate for a short while.”

Jones smiled and slipped his arm around her. “Of course I don't mind. Let me go fetch you another drink.”

Emma watched him walk across to the bar, loving the way he moved, her gaze drifting down his body, imagining him as naked as the dancers, picturing his cock for a moment between those women's lips, fucking their mouths just as eagerly. Emma felt another warm rush between her thighs. She was absolutely going to have to fuck Jones hard when they arrived back at her apartment later. She needed it now more than ever.

As Jones ordered their drinks at the bar, Emma's eyes fell back onto the first woman, wanting to see more, wondering how far she would go. The dancer was now forcefully fucking the woman's mouth, his hand gripping her hair as he eased in and out of her eager lips, his exquisite cock deliciously erect, but she could see that the woman was clearly enjoying it, not at all protesting. One of the woman's hands was already down between her own thighs, her short skirt hiked up to give herself more access, touching herself as she sucked him. Emma could feel herself becoming delightfully wet at the sight.

Looking away for a moment, feeling oddly indiscreet for gazing at them so openly, Emma could see Claude over by the bar talking to a particularly attractive looking girl. She couldn't help herself from watching as Claude pushed the girl back against the wall, kissing her decadently, his hand gliding up the inside of the girl's thighs, drifting over her silk panties.

The girl clearly and visibly gasped as Claude touched her, pushing her crotch against his exploring fingertips. Emma felt another rush of wetness from her sex as she saw his fingers expertly stroke the young girl though the silk of her panties, his fingertips circling in slow rhythm, the girl drawing Claude against her and kissing him passionately.

Emma wondered what it would be like to watch Claude in the same way that he had watched her, wondering if it would turn him on just as intensely. She wondered if she would be able to resist climbing onto the bed with them in that situation, touching them both as he fucked the girl, perhaps straddling his face, masturbating over him.

Emma dismissed the thought from her head and turned away, wondering where it had come from. The sights and sounds in the club were pushing her arousal further. She knew she needed to calm down.

Claude wasn't the only one starting to enjoy the event a little more eagerly. Around the room other couples were beginning to pair off. Some were slipping away into darker corners of the club. Others were kissing each other more openly, enjoying being seen, the heat in the club increasing as their passion rose.

And it wasn't simply couples getting together. Here and there girls were kissing each other, their hands touching each other, stroking and exploring, and there were men getting together too. This was something Emma had never seen before – gorgeous young men kissing each other decadently, their hands between each other's thighs, the increasingly sexual atmosphere in the club spurring them on.

Emma was exquisitely wet. She looked back at the first table she'd been watching, seduced by it now, wanting to see more, no longer caring if they saw her watching them. She had been wondering whether anyone would actually fuck in here, or whether that was going just a little too far.

Her answer came quickly. The woman's friends had moved back a little to watch more easily, and she was now bent eagerly over the table, her breasts spilling out of her corset, her silk panties already tugged down, the dancer behind her gorgeously erect and clearly about to fuck her. Of the three female friends who were accompanying the woman, two of them were kissing each other as they watched, the third woman not taking her gaze off the man, her hand down between her thighs, openly masturbating as she watched.

Emma could barely take her eyes off the dancer's gorgeous cock, now blissfully erect in his hand, his fingers pumping back and forth along it as he fed it down towards the woman's sex, grabbing onto her hips and driving it deep inside her from behind.

Emma stifled a small groan, watching the dancer thrusting hard inside the woman as she gripped the edge of the table, pushing herself back against him, and he began to fuck her eagerly, not caring that they were being watched, enjoying it. It was all Emma could do not to touch herself, her thighs trembling, aware of her own scent as her wetness pooled at her sex, incredibly turned on now.

“I hope you're enjoying the show.”

The voice was sardonic but friendly. Startled from her reverie, Emma looked up to see Claude arriving at her table, accompanied by the young woman he had been touching, now holding his hand and standing quietly next to him, looking slightly flushed.

“Allow me to introduce Catherine,” he said. “I met her just this evening but she seems rather delightful. Catherine, this is my good friend and business associate, Emma Chance.” Claude gave Emma a sly wink, and Emma smiled back at him as she gently shook Catherine's hand, inviting them both to sit with them.

“This is quite a show,” Emma said, grateful for the brief interruption and the chance to catch her breath, determining to look away from the action over at the other tables before it pushed her into doing something she might regret in the morning. “Are Kruger's parties always like this?” Behind Claude, Emma could still see the dancer fucking the woman a little harder over the table, their activity starting to spread around the club, the atmosphere electric and sexual.

“Trust me, the party has barely started,” Claude said, smiling at her wickedly. “I've attended a few of Kruger's get-togethers in Paris over the past couple of months. He likes to make sure his guests have a good time.”

“So I noticed,” Emma replied. She also hadn't failed to notice that Catherine's hand was sliding softly along Claude's thigh, not especially attempting to disguise it. “It seems clear that sexual activity is actively encouraged at such events.”

As if to emphasise her statement, the sounds of intense orgasm drifted across the room. Emma's attention was momentarily diverted as she turned to look, seeing the woman coming exquisitely all over the dancers cock, clinging onto the table desperately, shoving herself back against him to take him deeper inside her, the dancer still pounding relentlessly into her cunt. The woman threw her head back, almost screaming as he drove deeper, another orgasm about to flood through her, the dancer grabbing a fistful of her hair and dragging her back hard against him, ramming more urgently into her cunt. Despite herself, Emma felt another warm flood between her thighs, crossing them discreetly, trying to push back her own arousal, insanely turned on.

“Such decadence is absolutely encouraged,” Claude smiled, slipping his arm around Catherine's shoulder, his voice almost a purr as she snuggled closer to him. “Will you be indulging yourself, or are you still intending to depart earlier? I think you'll miss a great deal of fun if you do.”

“I haven't yet decided,” Emma replied, watching with interest as Catherine's hand slid further up Claude's thigh, “I must admit to finding myself in two minds, for reasons which I'm sure are obvious.” She smiled secretly at Claude, glancing across to the bar to see Jones finally returning with their drinks. “I may leave the decision to Jones, he's far more sensible than me, I'm sure.”

“It's getting a little wild down here,” Jones commented as he reached the table. “Should we head upstairs to the gallery area? It might be easier for us to talk.”

“Didn't I tell you he was the sensible one?” Emma smiled amiably to Claude, but he simply raised his eyebrow in response and gave her a cheeky wink.

“If you say so,” he said wryly as the foursome made their way through the tables and wandered up the staircase.