Susan Carter - The hidden camera

Excitement, like an invisible electric current, ran through the room. The room was big, tastefully decorated in expensively modern furniture, and crowded with people. The people gathered were men and women. All were smartly dressed and almost all were drinking. The tense murmur of voices sounded above the music that was playing on the stereo.

The excitement mounted as the drapes were drawn shut, shutting out the moonlit night. The music was turned down low and the voices dropped to an anticipating whisper as the guests began arranging the furniture, drawing up chairs and couches so that they could sit comfortably and have a good view. All of the guests faced toward one end of the room where a small stage was set up.

It wasn't much of a stage, being barely big enough to accommodate a large bed and raised only a few feet off the floor. Black velvet drapes behind it and on the sides acted as backing. Anyone standing on the stage would be outlined sharply by the black, depthless velvet. Pencil-point spotlights suddenly stabbed through the gathering darkness of the room. The guests got themselves comfortable and, well fortified with drinks, they sat back or shifted restlessly, getting a clear view.

The room darkened and a communal thrill ran through the gathered guests for they felt safe – anonymous – in the dark. Unseen, they could behave as they wished without anyone objecting.

The excitement and tension in the room mounted higher – it was almost something that could be felt and grasped – as the darkness became inky, and the only light in the room was on the small stage where spotlights stabbed down and the black velvet acted as a frame.

A murmur, almost an applause, ran through the room as a tall slim figure entered and sat down front and center, facing the stage. Everyone present had either seen or heard about the shows that Hartman put on, and everyone knew they were in for a sight that most people would give anything to watch. One thing about Fred Hartman's parties: they were never dull and always fun! No one ever turned down an invitation. Everyone present felt they were privileged to be there and they all sat forward, craning to see what was going to happen next, eager to see whatever was going to happen on the stage.

The stage! It was raked, tilted, set at an angle so the spectators could better see what was going to happen there. The bed was bolted to the stage so it wouldn't slide off. The music was low and soft and suggestive, as the audience waited in the darkened living room of Fred Hartman; they waited tensely, becoming first quiet, then silent, as the music played on.

A quick, almost instantaneous gasp went through the guests as two men stepped out on the stage, smiling and squinting out. They were unable to see anyone, only a wall of blackness as they stood under the spots. The gasp and ensuing babble of voices were almost all female, for the two men were stark naked!

And they were muscular. Both were brawny big men with bulging biceps and thick forearms. Their names were Ben and Herman. Both men worked for Fred Hartman in various positions: as chauffeur, butler, bodyguards, aides, etc. They were, in truth, for whatever use Fred Hartman wanted of them. They were paid well and carefully selected for their positions. And now they were standing on the stage completely naked before his gathered guests.

The women in the audience set up a titter of excitement as they looked at the size of their penises which were growing erect even as they looked. Both men had big thick cocks that were veined and swelling out of their foreskins as they stood next to the bed. The reason for their sexual excitement was soon obvious.

A noise, a groan of lewd excitement welled up from the audience as an innocent, frightened young girl stepped out on the stage and stood looking out into the inky blackness with limpid eyes that were strangely glazed. It appeared as if the girl had been drugged. Indeed, she had! She had smoked a quantity of hashish in another room in order to get herself into the mood for what was going to happen. The hashish had willingly been supplied by Fred Hartman. In fact, the two men, one a blond and the other a red head, both had smoked with the girl. They stood looking down at her as they towered over her, grinning cruelly. They obviously were going to enjoy defiling her lush young body, and they could hardly wait to begin.

A general feeling of obscene permissiveness flooded the room. Guests hastily gulped at their drinks and refilled their glasses from bottles strategically placed nearby. Groans, moans and exclamations of lewdness were heard. Tiny coals glowed in the dark as guests lighted up hashish and marijuana cigarettes in order to intensify the feeling of wantonness that dominated the room.

Most of the assembled guests had seen pornographic films and exhibitions before; the mere fact that an obscene sex show was going to take place before their eyes wasn't the singe most important thing.

It was the girl, the girl standing up on the stage.

Sadly, as viewers of erotica know only too well, most of the girls who submit to lewd and perverted sex have something missing. Generally, they are not attractive, having a plain-Jane face, or a body that leaves something to be desired… or a twisted mind.

But not so with this girl. Fred Hartman had nothing but the best. The girl standing on the stage was beautiful. She was standing with her body completely covered from the neck down in a purple robe. Her face was incredibly lovely, having the fine, delicate features that smacked of good breeding. She had a mane of jet black hair that was long and crossed over her forehead, giving her a casual, sensuous look. Her nose was refined and thin, having just a hint of upsweep on the end. Her eyes were a pale intriguing blue and set wide apart and slightly tilted. Her mouth was wide and her lips possessed that full lascivious softness that was so enticing. Her chin was rounded and firm, and the complexion of her skin was healthy and a sensuous soft white.

She moved, standing between the two naked giants and, as she moved, another gasp went up from the crowd.

She was naked under the purple robe, splendidly naked, and the audience, their heads straining, caught a glimpse of a voluptuously full figure in the slit of the robe. The girl was smiling vacantly, her wetly parted lips laxly open as she stared off absently with glazed eyes.

"Begin Nancy." The words were spoken quietly, from the first row. It was Fred Hartman who sat with his legs crossed. He sat casually, a cigarette in one hand, a small brandy sniffer in the other. He spoke with a bored authority, yet his eyes gleamed dully in the reflected light from the stage. Anyone who knew Fred Hartman knew he liked staging shows, that he actually enjoyed watching women debase themselves. Some said he preferred the shows to actual sex. No one dared ask, for Fred Hartman could be a very cruel man once he was crossed.

But the girl on the stage! Men leaned forward, taking in her beautiful young face and the tantalizing glimpses of her lushly ripened body under the purple robe. Men whispered to one another and asked themselves the question: where did he get her? She seemed too beautiful and refined to be involved in such a situation. If this show was anything like the others that Hartman had arranged, she would submit herself to all kinds of sexual debasements. Where did he find such a beautiful girl to do such lewd acts? She seemed too striking, too well bred for such behavior. Men grinned to themselves. Her innocent appearance, good breeding, and stunning good looks only added to the excitement.

A hush fell over the room as every eye watched the girl standing between the two men.