Martin knew exactly what Peter meant. The light from the screen reflected on his lewdly grinning teeth. This was going to be fun he chuckled. Really fun.
Janet watched the white sands of a familiar California beach roll across the screen and felt herself becoming extremely light headed. She gave a puzzled look down at the drink. No, she thought, shaking her head. He wouldn't dare do it here. Besides he was never near the drinks. He couldn't know which one would be mine.
Deep in thought about the drink, she didn't notice the house on the screen. She looked up when she heard Peter speak. 'You will all recognize Martin's beach house. Everyone here has been there at one time or another. With the exception of these introduction shots, this whole film was shot last weekend. It took a lot of work getting it developed in time for tonight.'
Last weekend, Janet thought, suddenly alarmed. Martin didn't have a camera. There must be a mistake. Ten seconds later she knew it was no mistake. The screen flashed with the whiteness of bare skin. The lens zoomed away from the skin until the whole ten foot square bed was in view. Janet gasped.
That was her on the screen. She was with Martin. She started to rise, but was too dizzy. She turned to Greg, but he was gone. There was no trace of him in the room. What was happening? She looked helplessly back at the screen, her throat contracting painfully. She wanted to scream. Everyone was enjoying the film. In living color on the wall she was astride Martin. Janet watched herself in horror. His penis was hidden deep within her as she rode him like a horseback rider, his rigid cock disappearing into the crack between her thighs, so that only a tiny little stretch of it was showing, wet and glistening.
'You all know about the hidden cameras,' Peter said to the group at large. 'But of course, the new couple had no idea that they would be photographed. Looks just like you,' he added, turning to Janet who could not take her eyes off the screen.
'This is part of your initiation into the inner circle, Janet,' he said. 'You should be proud that you turned out so well in the flics. Most of the people here did not turn out nearly as well,' and then he turned his attention back to the screen.
As Janet watched, she remembered everything that had happened to her during the weekend. The scenes switched often. Like a psychedelic film, the projector was revealing every exciting moment of her lost weekend.
She looked around the room for Greg. The couples on the pillows were undressing each other in the semi dark room. Janet could see that the couples she had been introduced to were not together. She looked to the screen to see Darlene and Greg, then back to the room, searching for her husband.
All the people in the room were almost naked now and playing with each other. None of them had engaged in actual copulation, but that was not far off, she could see. But where was Greg? If all these other people were going to do it then she and Greg could too. She wanted to do it!
Her mind was not her own. She could feel the fire between her legs. The room was hot, but she did not want to strip. Not by herself. A hand rested on her shoulder. Expecting to see Greg, or at least Martin, she was surprised when she turned.
Peter stood over her, his swollen penis jutting out from his body. One of the women stood nude next to him. 'That is only part of your initiation,' he said. 'It's hot, don't you think? Let's take off your dress and get naked.'
She did not want to, not here like this with a perfect stranger. 'Where's my husband,' she asked, an alarmed expression on her face. 'Where's Martin?'
The idea of being in a room full of nude copulating strangers excited her, but she did not want to be with one of them. She wanted one of the men she knew.
Peter pointed across the room at his wife, who was straddling a man lying on one of the pillows. 'There,' he said. 'There with my wife is good old Greg. He's one in a million, that boy. It took him no time at all to get into the swing of things.'
She could not believe it. She staggered to her feet. The drugged drink had hit her like a dozen Martinis. She could hardly navigate as she walked through the naked, squirming bodies sprawled on the floor. The room flashed with different colors, nearly blinding her. On the screen scores of still shots flashed. Pictures of her with Martin, Greg and Darleen… Oh, God, she said aloud as she saw herself with Darleen on the screen, the two of them in a wild lesbian embrace with her own face sunk tightly between Darleen's straining thighs.
She tripped over another pillow and fell to the floor, her head beside her husband's. The euphoric look on his face needed no explanation. He, too, had taken the drug, she thought. A laugh brought her eyes up to Deborah who was sliding herself up and down on Greg's swollen shaft. The delight in her eyes was too much. Janet could not take any more. All of these people were fucking and she had no one, no one except the men on the screen and in the strange distorted haze of the drug it suddenly all seemed so unfair… so unfair… and… and sick…
She picked herself off the floor and started for the door. She had to escape. They were all insane. Not even in Rome would they have done this, she thought. They were all crazy… all crazy. As she walked, the flashing lights from the screen dimmed. She reached out for something to grab and steady herself in the darkness.
The screen flickered a few more times and died. The film clip had ended. Half conscious, Janet felt a strong hand lift her and carry her across the room. She felt the man take a small step up onto the tiny stage that was covered with pillows directly below the screen that was being shut out by the closing curtains.
The hands worked eagerly at her dress taking it off quickly, but carefully, not damaging her garment. She hadn't the strength to open her eyes. Her ears barely heard the moaning and gaspings as couple after couple raced to wild orgasm in the room around her.
'Ready,' she heard Peter's excited voice after a few moments. She was completely naked and vulnerable, lying limply back into the mattress, she shuddered and tried to close her arms over her exposed breasts as she felt the hot breath of a man breezing across her stomach.
The man stood up. 'Ready,' he answered in a heavy guttural voice.
Her eyes popped open at the sound of the deep voice that boomed over six feet above her head. Oh no, she thought, as she looked up to the underside of the largest penis she had ever imagined. It jutted straight out from his body in magnificent but frightening erection, curving slightly upward toward the large bulbous head. It was ten inches long and had an incredible diameter.
It should have belonged to Zeus, the God of war, but instead, was connected to the hairy muscular body of Peter Grant's bodyguard. 'Ooooh,' she gasped aloud. His feet were on either side of her head. The hairy muscular legs rose from the small stage like giant monuments to the phallus at their apex. Janet shuddered, her body shrinking down tight into the mattress.
'You're awake,' Peter Grant said smiling down at her. He leaned over, putting one knee on the pillow by her hips. 'We were afraid you'd had too much. How do you feel?'
The girl could not answer. She tried to focus on his face. She turned her head and saw that the men and women in the room had gathered near the stage in a close semi-circle, their eyes bearing excitedly down on her naked flesh. They were still fondling each other and some of the leering faces were familiar. Martin was with one of the other women and his wife gently stroked Peter's hanging penis as he talked with her.
Janet looked for Greg. He sat three feet from her, his fingers between Deborah's legs, fondling the soft lips of her open vagina only slightly hidden from view by the soft silken hair surrounding it. He was not better than the rest, she thought dimly, hopelessly. Her mind screamed at him, but the response to her vocal chords was too slow and by the time it reached her lips, it was no longer necessary.
She could smell the sweetness of sex in the room. Her own husband had become a part of this ungodly group. 'Remember,' Peter said in a slow hypnotic monotone. 'I told you that the movie was the first part of the initiation?' She nodded vaguely.
'Well this is the second part. Greg,' he said, pointed at her husband. 'Has already fulfilled his second half. Now it is your turn. All the men drew straws to see who would be your partner and Monroe won. I hope you are as good to him as you were to our friend Martin on the screen.'
The girl could not believe the words. They seemed almost in a foreign tongue. These were respectable people. Yet they were all in this room with the same idea in mind… community sex. She looked about her and saw many of the large cocks again growing to erection from the sight of her young helpless body. The potion had taken good care of all of them.
Janet looked about her. The couples were swaying gently to the soft Indian sitar music that now flowed through the room. It was like a sacrifice. She was the most innocent of the group and they were going to change her, make her exactly like them, perverted, insane with sexual desires.
