An Appealing Proposition

It became obvious to me, looking around, that many of the models came from the audience, as I noticed people discreetly getting up and leaving their chairs, only to return later. It was several more minutes before Laura returned; incredibly now wearing her black dress from earlier.

"What?" she asked with mock innocence, turning to me as I gave her a shocked look. This look, I admit, was a new one for me.

"What do you mean what? You know what!"

"That's nothing," she whispered. "Here comes the finale."

At that, out walked the redhead from earlier. Her pale skin and dark red hair were accented perfectly by the blue latex corset she wore, along with the matching elbow-length gloves. What was different about this woman, I noticed, was the object strapped to her crotch. The laces holding it on were black, but the device itself was also blue, a perfect match for her outfit. No larger than a cell phone, and made of some soft material, it appeared to cover her vagina completely, though just barely.

I had a feeling as to what this device might be, but I put it out of my mind. I didn't want to be disappointed if I was wrong. Luckily, I wasn't wrong. She walked slowly, deliberately. She didn't have quite the same confidence as the others, though she made up for it in grace, her long legs moving expertly in the heels holding her up. Her face was flushed red, her lips equally so. As she passed, I could have sworn I smelled the faintest hint of arousal from her.

The redhead reached the end of the platform, and began to turn back. She never made it. In the relative quiet of the room, even the sounds of the cello could not drown out the buzzing that had commenced. The woman stopped mid-step, and moaned.

Her moan sounded like nothing I had heard before. It was both urgent and terrified at the same time. She had to have known what was going to occur when she put that device on, and yet, when the little blue rectangle turned on (there were no wires I could see), it seemed almost to drive her mad with lust and embarrassment together.

The buzzing increased. She stayed on her feet, barely, her hands reaching instinctively downward to her legs, steadying herself. She threw her head back, moaning louder now as the device continued relentlessly, vibrating right over her wetness as she staggered a few steps forward and back. She must have felt the need to do something, anything, as she looked desperately among us. All she had to do was pull the device from her crotch, if she wanted, but I knew this would never happen. As terrified and embarrassed as she seemed, this woman was shaking with passion, her moans now nearly screams as the vibrations continued to increase in speed and strength.

My hands, meanwhile, had instinctively found my own crotch, and I glanced over to see I wasn't the only one. Laura had her dress pulled up to her thighs, and her hand was underneath, moving in a rhythmic motion as the redhead took a few more steps forward, and then orgasmed.

This woman was doubtlessly chosen as the end to the first act thanks to her unique talent. She came in waves, and with each wave came a gush of liquid, running down her thighs. She was squirting so hard that she was soaking the floor she stood upon. She arched her back in ecstasy, still somehow remaining standing as her body shook over and over again.

The audience was silenced, with the exception of the occasional moan now emanating from around us rather than the stage. A couple near us was openly playing with one another, the man's cock standing at attention in her hand as he squirmed in his chair.

Laura, too, was squirming, her hand gyrating under her dress as she watched the redhead catch her breath and walk slowly from the stage, her legs still obviously weak.

"Now, now, darling," said a soft, sensual voice from behind us. "You aren't supposed to be cumming just yet." I turned and gasped at what I saw. Even in the dim light, Cloe was unmistakable, though her physical appearance had changed substantially since I had met her a few hours ago. Her hair was no longer blond, but rather jet black. Whether a true dye job for the occasion, or a wig, I had no idea, and I did not care as I took in the rest of her. She was taller than she had been before, likely due to the knee-high heeled boots she wore, which matched the leather gloves that extended to her elbows. Her body was wrapped in a nearly skin-tight vinyl overcoat which tied at the waist, allowing her firm, supple breasts to pour upwards and outwards, her nipples barely covered. Her lipstick was black, and her eyeliner dark. In her right hand Cloe held a rider's crop, which she tapped absently against her left as she stood, staring down at us.

Laura paused, and turned to see Cloe just as I had. Her mouth hung open, and her hand stopped moving underneath her dress. Whatever this part of the plan was, Laura hadn't been in on it.

"That's better, my dear," said our newly transformed hostess, looking up to the rest of the guests and speaking with the same soft, confident sensuality that had emanated from the speakers earlier. "This concludes the first part of our entertainment tonight, and provides an excellent transition to our second phase. By the way, the third part will make sure that everyone-" she glanced down at me and paused, "will participate. But first, let us thank all of our lovely contestants. And a special thanks to my pet, Rachel. Love ya darling." Cloe stretched out the last word she spoke, almost mocking her other self as she continued.

"For the rest of the evening, I am Mistress C. You can call me Mistress C and only Mistress C. I hope this is clear to everyone. We wouldn't want any misunderstandings, would we, my dears?"

All of us, every single guest, shook our heads instinctively. Mistress C grinned in satisfaction. "Then let us begin the second phase of our evening. As you have seen, the first act showcased my favorite clothing for the purposes of…visual entertainment. Our second phase will focus on ways to enjoy oneself and others. After all, this holiday is about giving rather that receiving, am I right?" A hearty laugh echoed from the woman's chest as the music began once more. Though still classical, it had a slightly more upbeat flair this time, more focused and agile.

And once more, a model strode purposefully through the covering separating our room from the dressing room. This time, however, there was little question as to the purpose behind the demonstration, because behind her strode another woman.

The first was undressed. She was completely naked, and blond, her hair down to her shoulders and her breasts bouncing as she walked, striding toward the end of the runway until she reached it, falling to her hands and knees, smiling knowingly at the audience as we watched the woman behind her, a brunette dressed in a black corset, approach her. The brunette's right hand held a black leather whip. Its length dragged slowly along the ground behind her, even as she raised her arm and snapped her wrist, prompting a cry of anticipation and lust from the blond, who still lay on all fours, motionless.

Again, the snap of the whip and a cry, but this time louder as I could see a small welt form on the blond's ass. Her right hand, I noticed, had reached from holding her up to her thigh, to now between her legs, rubbing herself as the brunette behind her whipped her again, harder this time, prompting a yelp and a moan, the two almost merging into one as I could see the blond woman shaking with what I can only describe now as lust mixed with anticipation and sprinkled with fear.

Beside me, I could see Laura wanting to touch herself further. Even though Mistress C had mysteriously disappeared, Laura dared not partake of herself as she had tried to earlier, for fear of punishment. I could see other couples similarly squirming, wanting to fulfill their desires right in front of us all, but unable to do so thanks to the instructions of the hostess.

One more snap of the whip, and another scream commenced before the blond slowly stood on all fours at the beckoning of her brunette mistress, and shakily walked off stage, followed closely by the woman with the whip.

"Thank you so much, dears," I heard the voice of Mistress C echo once more through the room. "That is one of my favorite whips and I like to see it put to good use once in a while. And now, for a more complex demonstration. Jenna, Adam, please let them see one of my favorite ensembles."

And with that, another couple strode onstage, though this time it was a man and a woman. The woman, Jenna, was in front, her stride firm and secure, despite her complete nudity. Her large, tanned breasts, thin waist and curvy hips made quite an impression. In one hand she held the end of a leash, and in the other was an item that I could not immediately identify.

The difference with this couple, however, is that the next person in line, Adam, followed her much more closely than in the previous couple. The reason that Adam was doing this is that he was wearing a collar, attached to the leash held by Jenna. Over his eyes, a blindfold obscured his vision such that he was clearly following the footsteps and pace of the woman in front of him. His skin was pale, but his was covered in sharp, lean muscle. He also sported a substantial erection, his cock standing straight up in front of him as Jenna led him on.

As the couple reached the end of the runway, Jenna pulled Adam's chain tight, forcing him close to her as she licked and softly bit his lips, an erotic, feral look on her face. He responded, giving into her dominance with an ever-so-slightly audible, guttural moan.

Pushing him away suddenly, Jenna lowered what I had come to think of as her toy to the floor, standing over Adam as he lay on his back, his still hard penis jutting up at her as a signal of his desire. She reached down to pick up an item sitting on the stage, and I finally realized what she had been holding in her other hand.

"One of my more kinky toys," spoke our hostess once more though the speakers. "Specially designed to be used warm, but not too hot on the skin. We wouldn't want our poor boy screaming now, would we?"

With that, Jenna lifted the lighter that she had picked up from a hidden spot on the stage and lit the candle she had been carrying, allowing the flame to sizzle to life as she kneeled over Adam, a collective intake of breath issuing forth from the audience as all of us waited to watch the first drop fall over his body.

"I almost forgot to mention," came the voice of our hostess, "for this particular demonstration, audience participation is encouraged." Mistress C let out a soft moan, as though there were a man between her legs at that instant. "Wouldn't you like to take that nice hard cock in your hand while he's covered in wax, girls? I know I would. There is only one rule, however. There are to be no orgasms from the audience, just yet."

No one moved immediately, for we were all simply so captivated as the first bit of wax melted off the candle, falling to the man's chest and prompting a grunt as more slivers began to fall. Over and over again the naked woman, Jenna, allowed the candle to drip over her slave as he squirmed beneath her.

From somewhere to my right, I caught movement as I noticed Laura gripping her thighs. Obviously, it was taking everything she had not to reach her hand under her dress once more, and her occasional squirming made it clear just how difficult this was for her. We both sat in awe as we noted a short, dark haired woman approach the stage. I saw that both her arms and one shoulder were covered in tattoos, though it was difficult to make out the nature or theme of the ink. The woman was bold, I will say that. She simply climbed on the stage, still in her formal-length dress, sat down beside the couple, and reached out to take Adam's engorged cock in her hand as she watched, still fixated like the rest of us on his body while Jenna continued to allow the candle to drip across his torso.

Adam's quiet grunts became loud, uninhibited moans as the tattooed woman began to stroke his cock, a look of concentration on her face so intense and focused that I was lost in the moment, these two women delivering a tandem of pleasure and pain to the collared man before them.

My own focus was broken, however, by a stirring behind the curtains leading to the dressing room as Mistress C walked quickly on stage. She was wearing her outfit from before, the vinyl overcoat, jet black hair, and elbow length gloves no less provocatively dominatrix than earlier. In one hand, she held what was clearly a sex toy, a rabbit from the look of it.

The one other addition to Mistress C's ensemble was a microphone clipped to her ear and jutting outwards to her mouth, the kind that singers wear onstage when dancing. I now realized how her voice had come so clearly through the speakers, as she spoke while she strode to the end of the aisle.

"Darlings, this is looking so juicy," she paused for effect as she turned her head to watch the tattooed woman jacking off Adam harder now, no longer teasing but owning him with her grip. "I'd like to introduce one other toy, my favorite rabbit. Stimulates the clit while vibrating the good old 'G inside you. I think maybe our good friend Jenna might like me to help her demonstrate, if she can tear her eyes from that boy of hers. Isn't that right Jenna?"

The woman in front of her nodded almost imperceptibly, so focused on the now thoroughly waxed man before her, but she slowly obeyed, blowing out the candle and placing it aside and she lay on her back, spread eagled before our hostess and her new mistress.

Mistress C wasted no time, falling to her knees before the Dom turned sub in front of her, and placed the toy against Jenna's no doubt already soaking cunt. I could just make out the steady vibrations coming from the area of the stage as the toy was turned on.

Glancing back at Adam, I noted that the tattooed woman has upped the ante. She had climbed on top of his face, facing his cock, grinding her pussy against his face as she continued using only her hands on his now throbbing cock. Adam was writhing and moaning beneath her, though her own moans had already almost surpassed his. In the back of my mind, I warned her against orgasming, as she was an audience member, after all, and had been expressly prohibited from cumming during this exposition.

Mistress C must have noticed this too, because she whispered something inaudible in the direction of the tattooed woman, though she had turned off her microphone so I was unable to hear.

The tattooed girl with dark hair (and an apparently feisty attitude) said something back that I also couldn't hear, but nodded slowly. She did not, however, let up on the man before her, or stop grinding her pussy against Adam's face.

Jenna was quickly moaning and begging for more as our Mistress worked effortlessly on the aching pussy before her, pressing the vibrator harder against the woman's pussy as she began to scream like a porn star, every thrust prompting a different moan. "Please," she cried in between groans, "don't stop."

Our hostess said nothing, though the speed of the vibrator seemed to increase as she adjusted a setting. Both Jenna and Adam were bucking under the pleasure of their respective owners, and when they came almost in unison it was really no surprise.

Adam came first, his hips arching upwards in one final thrust against the tattooed woman's fist as he began to shoot sperm into the air, making it land all around him. Several streams of cum hit the slightly surprised dark haired woman as she continued to grind against his face, her lips now wet with his cum as she moaned.

Jenna moaned louder, her orgasm reaching her quickly under the careful supervision of our hostess, her hips bucking against the toy inside her as she gripped her breasts, pinching her nipples and screaming for more.

As both Jenna and Adam lay spent, the feisty tattooed girl still ground her pussy against Adam's face, and the grateful man was clearly responding in kind as her face transformed into one of pure pleasure and emotion.

One more, our hostess spoke several words to the tattooed woman, who this time looked back at her, a frown crossing her lips as she looked down at the man under her. His hands gripped her hips, his face hidden beneath her pussy, he was clearly licking and sucking with all his skill as she swallowed and pushed herself off of him. Her face was clearly flushed with arousal as she did so; moving slowly to the end of the platform and lowering herself down, pulling her dress back down around her waist.

Our Mistress stood, ignoring the now spent woman in front of her.

"Very nice, my dears. A very interesting show indeed. I would have liked to showcase my favorite toy of all…but I suppose I will wait on that one until the final phase of entertainment for the evening. Now, let us all retire to the next room. My assistants-"she gestured and once more the two men in tuxedos appeared "will guide your way."

None of us wasted any time in following the two men through a door in the right-hand side of the room, though I noticed a few couples quickly collecting themselves, clearly not wanting to invoke the wrath of Mistress C for their hasty play.

The room we entered was painted entirely black, and was lit only by candles running the length of three walls. Against the fourth wall was the longest couch I had ever seen, large enough for all of us to sit on it, which we did without being told. Laura was situated to my right, while the small but feisty woman with tattoos across her arms and short dark hair was to my left. Almost absently, I realized that this was the woman from earlier, the girl who had jacked off Adam, the woman who had nearly cum and incurred God knows what wrath upon her from our hostess. I realized, then, that my closer look had certainly labeled her correctly, as a feisty one indeed. A man, I assume Feisty's date, was on her other side. On Laura's right side stood one of the men from the show, though now fully clothed again.

We sat in utter silence, save for the occasional nervous joke as we waited. Five minutes went by, and then ten. I sat uncomfortably, writhing slightly as the memories of earlier refused to depart the forefront of my mind. I am sure that others were uncomfortable as well, though no one dared touch themselves or others as we had begun to earlier.

At last, the click of heels on the hard wood floor indicated the approach of Chloe-now Mistress C. She walked slowly, deliberately, though the door and stopped halfway into the room. She spoke one word.

"Strip."

And so we did, every last one of us. No one dared question, nor ask for clarification. We all knew what she meant. Naked. For lack of any other place, we put our clothes on the couch behind us, standing now in front of it.

I wanted to speak, to ask Laura just what the hell she had gotten me into, but I didn't dare. Besides, I wouldn't have gone anywhere, even if I were allowed. I simply had to know what would happen next.

I didn't have to wait long.

Mistress C approached the end of the line of naked bodies to my left. There were just a few people between me and the end of the line, namely the woman I had dubbed Feisty, her date, and two others. I couldn't help but glance down the line in the opposite direction to see not only expressions as nervous as my own, but also the twitching of flesh, and the scent-becoming powerful-of sexual arousal.

The sharp click of heels turned my attention back to the left, as I watched our hostess walk down the line, passing me as she did so, inspecting each of us as she passed. She walked this way all the way down the line, stopping at last at the other end.