Sydney's Adventures Ch. 4byLunaGirls©
An important part of life in every sorority (or fraternity) is fund raising. And, since we have a large house and lots of extra-curricular activities, we take fundraising very seriously. At the beginning of every spring term (early February) we hold a "slave" auction in the student union. It's pretty simple really—people bid for one day of your services. As a freshman, I was pretty worried about what the "services" entailed, but some of the older sisters assured me that my fears were baseless and that one's servitude usually involved changing into a skimpy outfit and cleaning some nerd's room. Any sort of sexual contact is expressly prohibited (although we always have the options of initiating it ourselves if the moment is right!).
Still, it was with no small amount of trepidation that I approached the auction block in the packed student union when it was my turn to be sold. Our house president, Kim, personally picked the outfits that all of us were wearing and, while she was somewhat limited by the school's "moral conduct" policy, she still had us in racy outfits designed to get as much money as she could! I was dressed in a sleeveless, navy blue minidress that was so tight that even a thong left a visible panty line (so of course I didn't wear one!) and a bra was completely out of the question. The dress had a low scoop neck and the tight, stretchy fabric squeezed my 38d breasts together so much that they looked like they were trying to escape. With every step I took, my boobs bounced and jiggled fiercely and my nipples, erect from rubbing against the dress, were making obvious mounds in the fabric. A single pearl on a gold strand rested just above my cleavage, focusing attention on my nearly exposed breasts. This may have been a good thing, because the hemline of the dress was about three inches below my bald pussy and it felt like the skirt was going to slide up my butt if I wasn't careful! To round out the ensemble, I was wearing my favorite black, strappy, platform sandals ('Alicia' by Candie's) with four-inch heels. I hoped that I would fetch a decent price!
We were auctioned off in a random order, and I was near the end. My roommate and best friend, Cindy, had been auctioned off to the football team's star wide receiver and for her day of servitude the sorority was making two hundred and fifty bucks! Now it was my turn. Putting my fears of the crowd (and of accidentally over exposing myself!) behind me, I boldly stepped up onto the small auction stage. The guys standing on the opposite side of the platform got a quick glance up my dress as I stepped up and practically broke their jaws on the ground when they saw a flash of my pink lips! They immediately put in a $50 bid and the auction began. As Kim was calling out ever increasing numbers I mussed up my long blond hair and strutted around the stage. I'm pretty sure the front few bidders could see up my dress, but as the bidding continued I found that I just didn't care. I couldn't believe it, but the combination of wearing next to nothing and having guys bidding for my services was really beginning to turn me on and I could feel my pussy starting to get juicy.
The bidding began to slow at $225, but I knew that I had to beat Cindy for freshman bragging rights. Raising my hands high above my head, I spun around and encouraged the crowd to continue bidding. (It's a good thing that my pubes were shaven because raising my arms brought my hemline dangerously close to my pussy and a stray hair might have peaked out!) There was a momentary hush as the crowd waited to see how high my dress would go, and then the bidding renewed at a frantic pace. I loved the feeling of being up on the stage having guys screaming out bids for my services. I loved the feeling of parading around and showing off my body. I loved these feelings so much that, before I knew it, I could feel a familiar tingly sensation starting in my pussy! My conscious mind didn't want me to climax on the stage, but I was just too horny. Rubbing my thighs together as I walked put me over the top, and the tingly sensation in my pussy exploded into the rest of me. Still conscious of the crowd, I tried desperately not to look like a fool, but my walking was none too steady! Thankfully the auction finally closed and I could get down off the stage. I could feel cum trickling down my legs and I knew I had to clean myself up before someone noticed my excited state. Spotting a women's bathroom at the far end of the building I began threading my way through the crowd, getting the odd squeezes, bumps and even a subtle fondling of my butt from someone I didn't manage to catch.
"Hey Sydney, how's it going?" Turning back around, I couldn't believe it—Stan, my psychology TA, was here, and here I was in quite the messy state. Honestly, I was amazed he even knew my name out of the class of a hundred students.
"Oh, pretty good," I said, blushing furiously and hoping he didn't notice my condition. "What are you up to?"
"I was just heading over to class, can I walk you there? We need to hurry if we're going to make it on time."
Looking at a clock on the wall I realized that I only had a few minutes before class started and that I really did need to get going. I couldn't even go back to find out who had won the bidding for me or how much they had paid.
"Sure. Let me get my coat." Cum was still dribbling down my legs but there was nothing I could do about it. As I put on my long black winter coat, I stole a surreptitious glance down to assess the situation, and I could see several streams oozing their way towards my knees. At least the coat covered my legs and hid the mess!
The lecture hall was only a short walk from the student union, but suddenly it was a very difficult one. Each puff of cold winter air up my dress blew directly on my bald, cum-soaked, panty-less pussy, sending delightful but distracting shivers up and down my spine. I was so distracted that I don't even remember what Stan and I talked about on the walk—he probably figured I was some ditzy sorority girl without a brain in her head! We got to class just as the professor, Mr…excuse me…Dr. (as he had snottily corrected us one time) Arton, was storming through the door.
The classroom was a small auditorium with stadium-style seating; it was a general-purpose room and had minimal decorations. Dr. Arton himself was in his early fifties, had a slight potbelly, and graying brown hair that was beginning to thin. I grabbed the first seat I could see, an aisle seat three rows up, and Stan sat facing the class in a chair by the doorway. Since the chairs were arranged in expanding arcs there was no seat in front of me and I realized that, if I took my coat off and spread my legs, Stan would be able to see up my dress to my pussy. Consequently, I decided to keep my coat on, despite the fact that the heat in the room was turned up! Looking around the room as he began his lecture, Dr. Arton glanced at me and my coat.
"Ms. Aslington," Dr. Arton sneered, emphasizing the 'ass' in my name. "Are you planning on listening to my whole lecture? Perhaps you would like to take off your coat and stay for a while." Did everybody know my name in this damn class?
"Oh, of course professor," I replied shakily as I shrugged out of my coat.
As Dr. Arton went back to his lecture, I reached between my legs for my backpack, pulling out a notebook and pen to take notes with. Realizing that I had just flashed Stan, I squeezed my legs together and tried to concentrate on Dr. Arton's lecture. The chair-desk's writing surface hid my sticky, cum-covered thighs from the guy sitting next to me, but I did catch him trying to look down my shirt and staring at my barely covered chest several times over the course of the lecture.
Even though class was only ninety minutes long, it felt like an eternity and all I could think about was the cum glistening on my thighs, which kept getting stickier and stickier as it dried. At long last, class was over and I threw my coat on, hiding the white streaks on my thighs, and bolted for the door.
My next class was music, which was held in a concert hall on the far side of campus. I met up with my roommate Cindy on the way over; we're in the same class and we always try to sit together. We found seats at the back of the sparsely populated hall and, after stripping off my coat, I collapsed into an overstuffed red velvet seat.
Sitting down next to me, Cindy immediately noticed the messy condition of my thighs. "So, had a good time at the auction did you?"
"Mind blowing!" I whispered in her ear. "Don't tell anybody, but I really enjoyed being put on display like that. It's a serious turn-on to have fifty guys in the palm of your hand, willing to spend hard-earned cash on you!"
"Tell me about it! So, how much did you go for?"
"I don't know! I was so rushed after the auction was over that I didn't have time to stop and find out. I don't even know who bought me!"
"You must have been really worked up!"
"You can see the results!" I nodded helplessly at my thighs and we giggled together quietly.
"Alright class," Professor Somers, our music teacher began. "Today we are beginning our study of operas. I think that the best way to begin would simply be to listen to one." With that she dimmed the lights and the music began. I slouched back in my seat, enjoying the chance to relax, and closed my eyes. I must have dozed off for a second, but I awoke with a start—and a wet tongue in my pussy! Looking down in the dim light, I saw Cindy kneeling between my legs, grinning up at me with a finger to her lips indicating I should be quiet. In a state of semi-panic I looked around, but we were sitting in the very back of the auditorium and the only other guy in our row had also fallen asleep. Relaxing back into my seat, I spread my legs allowing Cindy easier access to my pussy. She began licking the insides of my thighs; her tongue felt like a wet snake slithering back and forth between my legs. Every now and then it would flick gently and ever so tantalizingly over my pussy and clit. My pussy began heating up, and I grabbed Cindy's head and pulled her to my swollen lips. I lifted my butt off the chair so she could push my dress over my hips and then she buried her head between my legs. I couldn't believe that she was going down on me in the middle of class where we could be caught at any minute, but it felt sooo good! She slid one, then two fingers up my pussy while tonguing my clit. When she began to gently nibble on it I couldn't take it any more. I squeezed my thighs together around her head and bit my lip to avoid screaming out in pleasure. My orgasm rushed through me and, for the second time in a day, I came in public, coating my thighs with my warm pussy juices.
"Mmmmm…that was yummy!" Cindy looked up at me grinning. "But the whole point of this exercise was to get you cleaned off and now look, you've made another mess!"
"I know, I just couldn't help it. You're an evil thing you know."
"Why would you say that, because I do things like this?" she flattened her tongue and roughly licked the entire length of my still quivering pussy.
"Uugghhmmm." I responded intelligently.
"Or is it because of this?" she quickly slid two fingers up my wanton pussy.
"Uuuhhhh…please no more!" I begged quietly as my legs spasmed with another mini orgasm.
"But look," she gestured at my cum-covered thighs. "I can't let you go like this, just let me clean you up." Without waiting for an answer she proceeded to give my thighs a delightfully thorough tongue bath. "There that should do it," she said, licking her lips as she got up. I began to pull my skirt down, but Cindy stopped me. "It's still pretty wet down there, you should let it air dry!" I couldn't believe I was allowing her to do this to me; I guess I was still a bit muddled from my public orgasm! And, I have to admit, the feeling of sitting in class with my skirt bunched up around my hips and my bald pussy exposed for anybody to see was turning me on again. Abruptly (or at least it seemed that way—I hadn't really been paying much attention to the opera) Ms. Somers turned the lights on. Luckily she couldn't see that my dress was around my waist, but the guy at the end of our aisle certainly could. I hurriedly pulled it down, but as I looked into his stupidly grinning face I could tell it was too late. Luckily, the class ended uneventfully and Cindy and I headed back to the sorority house.
The auction was held on Tuesday, and the day of servitude was the following Saturday. Over the course of the week I discovered that I had been sold for $300, the top for any freshmen. Nobody knew the name of the guy who got me, and Kim said that he was pretty non-descript—medium height, medium build, medium brown hair. When Saturday dawned I still didn't know who the guy was, or what I was doing. By lunchtime most of the other girls were out with their "masters" and I still hadn't heard anything. I was beginning to wonder if the guy had chickened out when Kim came upstairs with a note. It simply read, "A limousine will pick you up at 7:00 sharp." The note didn't say anything else; there was no indication of where I was going or even what I should wear. Since I was being picked up in a limo, I decided it must be a classy date and that I should dress appropriately. I figured that the guy who bought me was probably really shy and wanted to ask me out, but was too scared. That being the case, I guessed he might take me out for dinner and maybe dancing after that. Looking through my closet I decided to wear some of my clubbing clothes—classy but very sexy at the same time. I chose a satin button down shirt that was a beautiful lavender color and a slinky black mini skirt. I normally don't wear much makeup, but I went all out tonight with eyeliner, blush, mascara and lipstick taking care to highlight my blue-green eyes and pouty lips. I did my hair in an elegant "up" do with a few loose tendrils framing my face and I painted my finger and toe nails with Maybelline's Lavender Lights nail polish, which matched my lips and blouse.
At about 6:45 I finished with my preparations and headed downstairs to wait for the limo. A couple of girls had gotten back already and were discussing their adventures in the common room. Only one of them had done anything interesting—some guy had asked her to clean his room and then took off. My friend found a collection of porn mags under his bed and had started jacking herself off when the guy returned to his room. You can't just leave a guy like that, so she had given him a hand job before finishing his cleaning!
By the time the limo rolled up (at exactly 7:00) I was starting to get pretty nervous. The chauffer seemed nice at least (thankfully it wasn't the same one who drove me and Cindy on our Valentine's Day date!). The limo was a long one; there was a low, black, central table that stretched the length of the car with bench seats surrounding it. In the middle of the table there were three nicely wrapped presents, along with a sealed note. I opened the note with trembling hands and began to read. "You are to remove any and all clothes you have on now and wear only what you find in the boxes." I guess all my deliberations about what to wear didn't even matter! Opening the large, flat package I pulled out a black sheath evening gown. It had a low-scooped neckline (which showed off my cleavage quite nicely), spaghetti straps and a low-cut, lace-up back. The fabric was stretchy and had small, very subtle sequins sewn in, creating a wonderful glittery look without being garish.
Making sure the privacy screen between the driver and me was up, I took off my clothes and slid the dress on. Two slits on either side of the dress came up to my hipbone and were so high that I couldn't wear any sort of underwear. Sitting in the limo I discovered that the front panel of the dress had a tendency to slip between my legs, leaving them totally exposed if I wasn't careful. The dress was also slightly transparent, and if you looked carefully it was possible to see the outlines of my generous breasts peeking through the fabric. The second box contained a pair of 4-1/2" black stiletto pumps. I'd never worn heels that high (unless they were platforms) and I really wished there was some way I could walk around the limo to practice so I didn't make a fool of myself, but the ceiling wasn't that high. The last box contained a beautiful silver choker with jet inlays, which highlighted my long neck quite nicely, and a matching pair of earrings.
Shortly after I had gotten myself dressed and arranged the limo pulled to a stop. Looking out the tinted windows I could see that we were at one of the most exclusive restaurants in town. The valet opened my door and extended his hand to assist me. There was no way for me to get out without exposing generous amounts of my long legs and, while the valet valiantly tried not to stare, the poor guy just didn't stand a chance. Taking my arm he escorted me inside.
"Ah yes, Mademoiselle Aslington, we've been told to expect you," the maitre d' said. "This way please." He led me through the restaurant (I was teetering on the heels a bit, but I loved the way they stretched my calves and thrusts my breasts forward!) to a table for two in the back. There, waiting at the table, was a potbellied man with graying, thinning, brown hair—Dr. Arton!
"Hello Sydney. Thank you for joining me."
The maitre d' pulled out my chair for me and I sat down.
"D…Dr. Arton" I stumbled in my surprise. "I certainly didn't expect to see you here."
"No dear, of course you didn't. It wouldn't be proper for me to be seen bidding for one of my students at an auction, would it? That's why I had Stan do it for me."
"Stan was the one who bought me?! I should have known—that's why he was at the student union that day! And that's why you both know my name."
"Yes, graduate students do have their uses. Few though they may be." Dr. Arton poured me a glass of chardonnay which I began sipping to quell my suddenly jangley nerves.
"So why me? And what do you want me to do?"
"So many questions. To address the first one, I chose you because of the results on the psychology exams you took in my class. I believe that you may be…open…to my proposition."
"And what, exactly, is your proposition?" I asked nervously.
"Ah my dear, there will be time for that latter. First let's relax and enjoy dinner. We can address more serious matters after we have eaten."
Looking around, I had to admit the place was nice, probably the nicest restaurant I'd ever eaten at. It was done in a modern, sleek style. The chairs were black leather with chrome highlights; the tables had clear glass tops that were supported by shining chrome legs. The carpeting was dark gray and very plush. Roses, dark red with a luscious, velvety texture, provided the sole color to the room and a string quartet played in the background.
Returning my attention to Dr. Arton, I realized that the front flap of my dress had fallen between my legs and he was staring unabashedly through the glass table at my completely exposed thighs and only partly hidden hips. Embarrassed at my professor's lecherous gaze, I began to pull my dress across my knees.
"No slave," he commanded sternly. "Leave it as it is."
"Yes sir," I replied, letting the fabric, little more than a loincloth, settle between my thighs.
Just then the waiter appeared with our appetizer—a dozen oysters on the half-shell. I'd never had oysters before, and I looked at the ice-filled tray suspiciously.
"Sydney, have you ever had oysters before?"
"Well, there are a couple of different kinds of sauce, but I prefer to eat them plain. The key is not to chew them, but to slip them into your mouth, savor the taste and then swallow them. Whole."