RWS-215 The Hidden Camera by Susan Carter


Chapter 1


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!


End of Page 1. See rws-215.txt for full story.