Susan Carter

The hidden camera

CHAPTER ONE

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.