tagGroup SexUndressed for Success

Undressed for Success

byGreen_Gem©

Kerissa paced the small space backstage like a trapped animal testing the limits of a cage. Soon she would be out there, free to dazzle and free to thrill. Wrapped in the heavy cloud of rock music she tried to push aside the nagging doubts she had about later. She'd reluctantly agreed to participate as a nude model at the after show dinner for a select group of affluent businessmen but she was breaking her own rules. Kerissa Kline never posed in the nude. She was beautiful enough and respected enough never to have to resort to that. But, that was until yesterday, before her world was shattered.

She tried to shrug off the momentous mistake she had made as the familiar feeling of excitement swelled. It was like a drug. Minutes before she hit the runway, the awesome feeling always built within her as the excitement and anticipation bubbled up and coursed through her veins. Out there in the audience were the people with the megabucks; the mountains of money that they would pay over for the exclusive collection of clothing and lingerie that she was modeling.

Two dark haired models buzzed around frantically but Kerissa kept her distance from them. She had never given a damn about the fact that they thought she was aloof. She was and she liked it that way. Dani and Lana were not in her league and they knew it. The spiteful looks they flashed her as she arched her back and pushed out her hips, sending muscles rippling down her sleek body confirmed it. Ignoring them, Kerissa glanced into the floor to ceiling mirror. Her green eyes flashed back at her like a wild animal's eyes; darting, daunting, and dangerous. She tossed back her head and parted her lips in a snarl of sensual hunger as she flashed her tongue over them to make them shine glossily in the spotlights. If the entire collection was snapped up early, with a flood of orders, Charles might be more forgiving of her stupid oversight.

'Two,' the technician yelled holding up two fingers. His voice was drowned out in the tempest of sound.

Kerissa took a deep breath and shook her mane of blonde hair from side to side, testing the way it would swing on the catwalk. She braced her legs, feeling the delicious stretch in her taut thighs and the stirrings of an energy that was sexual raced down her spine. She ran her hands over her drum tight ass and let them rest on her hips as she pushed her breasts forward to prick the eyes of the buyers and the photographers who were waiting.

"One," signaled the finger of the technician.

Kerissa panted like a lioness close to the kill. She was hyperventilating on purpose, washing the carbon dioxide from her blood to increase the feeling of tension that she would transform in seconds to straight-up visual excitement. Her chest rose and fell as she fought to hang on with total concentration. This feeling of power and energy spearing through her body had to be harnessed and used in a way that would drive men mad with lust and women crazy with envy. The sizzling memories of Kerissa Kline would steam up their dull lives until they would have no choice but to buy the only part of her that was for sale.

The technician's hand flashed through the air and the music stopped. In the crashing silence Kerissa's excitement surged and she braced herself for takeoff. She could feel the eagerness of the audience as the Master of Ceremonies made the introduction. There were two hundred people out there watching, waiting for her.

"Go," the technician mouthed as his hand crashed down and Kerissa shot forward like a bolt into the blinding lights.

Everyone in the room took a sharp breath as the model that represented The Face of Zior, burst onto the stage in a short black diamante studded dress. It clung to her body and flowed with the rhythm of her hips as she got into her wild-side walk. Kerissa twirled in a tight pirouette as she hit the halfway mark on the runway and her eyes absorbed the spot lit audience. A man in the second row came into focus. He was watching her almost impassively and in that instant Kerissa knew she was going to do the show for him. She would change that cool ambivalent expression of his to one of enthrallment as she toyed with him and seduced him from the runway. Yes, Charles was always reminding his models that 'sex sells' but Kerissa got a delicious thrill out of this as well. She'd get the man going but it would be on her terms; he could look but he couldn't touch. She held his dark eyes as her body continued to sway to the rhythm of the music. She paused at the edge of the runway directly in front of him to show the dress wrapped around her body like a second skin, and flashed him a smile of liquid sex before spinning around to walk back down the catwalk with an elegant roll of her hips.

Backstage, Kerissa changed quickly into a leather outfit with a plunging neckline that reached almost to her navel. An assistant touched up her makeup and murmured something but Kerissa did not respond. Her thoughts were still with the stranger in the second row. The merest hint of a smile had played around the edge of his mouth as she gazed at him. Her breath caught in her throat as she anticipated how she would vibe off the feedback from his face when she came out in the skimpy lace lingerie.

****

With applause thundering in her ears Kerissa left the ramp wearing the final piece of the collection; the showstopper. One look at Charles told her how pleased he was. No doubt, the reviews would rave about his talents as a designer and how he had placed The House of Zior on the map as a world leader in haute couture. But the elation of his success had not made him any more forgiving. He appeared in Kerissa's dressing room with a bar of antiseptic soap, a large towel and a hot-pink silk robe.

"Make certain you shower using this soap and wash every part of your body. Wear the robe and come up to the private dining room."

"Charles, I am so sorry, you know I never meant the company any harm..."

He locked eyes with her and smiled inwardly at the brief flicker of fear that played over her beautiful face. She really was worried, and so she should be. Already in her late twenties she was old by model standards and the threat of having her contract cancelled had torn her down a peg or two. He had to admit that the excitement she generated on the catwalk was immense but that didn't change anything. She was a dumb fucking bitch to have been photographed, albeit at a private function, wearing a Gucci Original. She was a top brand name model, and wearing anything other than something from The House of Zior in public was tantamount to treason in the fashion industry. She had begged him to forgive her oversight when the picture appeared but he was unrelenting. Tonight he intended to test her loyalty and commitment.

"Sorry, is merely a word Kerissa. But a picture is worth a thousand words and we know what that picture said," Charles said coldly. "I'll see how tonight goes... and we'll talk in the morning."

****

Kerissa sat in the small room off the kitchen sipping red wine and awaiting her cue. She tried to brush off her feelings of anxiety as she peeked down the hallway at the guests who had arrived and were milling about in the dining area. A quick glance told her that some of the fashion industry bigwigs and an assortment of international buyers were there. What to expect, she didn't quite know, but the chef had tutored her emphasizing that she was to remain motionless when she was laid out on the table.

"It takes a lot of concentration and muscle control," he warned, his voice rising. "And if you move you'll ruin everything. Do you understand? This is art. It's serious stuff. My food is art and I want people to enjoy the sensuality of the entire experience of eating the food I serve."

Kerissa looked away and rolled her eyes. Christ, this was all she needed, another Prima Donna. As much as the chef rambled on about it being in good taste, she wondered about Charles' motives. He was using her as a platter to serve his influential guests. Sex was the selling point here again, she thought cynically and Charles was deliberately using her for titillating entertainment value. She hated it, this feeling of having no choice in the matter and being ordered to do something that she normally would never consider. She drained her glass and let her mind play over her predicament. The consequences of having her contract cancelled were too horrible to consider and if this was what it would take to wipe the slate clean then she would submit to it, take it in her stride and be the consummate professional.

"Come, it's time," the Chef said emerging with trays of food.

Kerissa followed him into the dimly lit dining area. Reaching the six foot glass table, she slipped off her robe and lay face up on it with one arm above her head and the other gracefully at her side. As soon as her bare flesh made contact with the cool surface she felt her nipples harden and a noticeable hush descended on the room. In the mirrored ceiling overhead Kerissa watched as the chef moved to drape white fabric across her waist and strategically through her parted legs.

"No! That won't be necessary Chef," Charles said quickly. "And you can dispense with using the plastic wrap as well." He smiled indulgently at the guests who had gathered around the table. "Unless, of course, any of you gentlemen object. Kerissa has just showered and used a special antiseptic soap."

A voice rang out, "Hey, no problem man. I love naked woman and I love food. What better combination? And..." he sniggered, "you did promise us the most shocking cocktail party ever."

A chill shot up Kerissa's spine as a small ripple of male laughter echoed throughout the room. Jesus, what did he mean by that? Charles was being crass and exacting revenge by having her completely naked. From the little she knew of food modeling like this, the subject's private parts were always discreetly covered. Anything else was considered to be in poor taste.

The chef worked quickly placing small pieces of sushi atop each of her legs and then interweaving a pattern of cucumber and tuna rolls together with California rolls that snaked from her ankle to her neck. Kerissa fought hard to not suck in her breath and squirm as the chilled appetizers touched her skin. An array of melon balls latticed with fresh tarragon and radish rolls filled with walnuts were arranged on her chest and between her breasts, while the chef artistically displayed crayfish salad on mustard toast and duck cakes stuffed with plum on her belly. Smoked salmon terrine was arranged in a circular pattern on separate platters and placed at the head of the table while a bowl of wasabi was nestled in the crook of Kerissa's right arm and a plate of ginger was placed at her feet.

"Almost done," the chef said stepping back to admire his work. He reached for a bowl and outlined Kerissa's body with chocolate covered strawberries like a chalk drawing as she lay perfectly still. Smiling, he finished with a flourish arranging the remaining strawberries in a small triangle on her smooth pubic area, accentuating her naked pussy.

In the subdued light, Kerissa felt her face burn with indignation and embarrassment. She had never felt self conscious about her body before but now, exposed like this to the hungry eyes of fifteen well dressed men she felt more vulnerable than she could ever recall. She closed her eyes and tried to block out what was happening around her. Somewhere in the background, music played softly while the voice of the chef droned on describing the food he had prepared and inviting the guests to help themselves.

A diner stepped forward and immediately plucked an hors d'oeuvre from between Kerissa's breasts. Heads turned, shoulders shrugged and everyone headed for the table. Using chopsticks, two influential Japanese buyers picked among the sushi at the top of Kerissa's legs. The sensations were light and ticklish and she suppressed a gasp as the small points of the chopsticks inadvertently brushed against the inside of her thigh close to her pussy. Breathe steadily, breathe, she kept repeating over and over in her head like a mantra. Just breathe dammit!

Fingers brushed against her skin as the men made their selections. Some were light almost imperceptible, others more deliberate like subtle caresses. It was difficult to remain focused and be still. A sense of horror washed over Kerissa as she battled to restrain her body from responding to the tactile touch of the strangers' fingers. Damn, what the hell was she doing anticipating where the next sensation would come from?

Somewhere in the distance above the chit chat of the male diners, Kerissa heard the sound of female laughter. The voices were unmistakable. It was Dani and Lana, the two wannabe supermodels. Kerissa let her eyes flicker open for a second to glance up at the mirrored ceiling so she could satisfy her curiosity. She'd taken a little bet with herself that they would be topless and they were. Their pert tits pointed straight ahead as they mingled amongst the guests proffering trays of hot appetizers.

"Oh my! I never thought I'd see the queen of the catwalk flat on her back modeling fish," Dani said with a smug smile. She knew she was within earshot of Kerissa and took pleasure in making the off color remark.

The insult stung but Kerissa remained impassive, breathing softly, with her eyes shut, as she felt more of the appetizers being plucked from her nude form. As each tasty morsel was taken, more of her flesh was revealed.

"Well, I'll never look at sushi in the same way again."

The voice was low and husky and the man, to whom it belonged, reached for an appetizer between Kerissa's breasts and let his hand hover for a second as he made his selection. He was right up against the table, close to her face and she felt the warmth radiating from his body. He didn't move away. Instead, he reached down for a chilled melon ball and let his cool finger brush her nipple lightly while he continued talking in a low tone. "I like your work; you really made that lingerie sizzle. The way the silk and lace crawled between your creases was superb. But now, seeing you close up, I'm positive you could make a terrific living by posing pussy."

The direct touch to her sensitive nipple caused a rush of sensation to Kerissa's groin but it was the soft intimate tone of the lewd comments that caused her eyes to flash open. At first, she had assumed the man was talking to a companion, but what he had just uttered quietly left no doubt in her mind that he was speaking directly to her. The instant their eyes locked she recognized him and her heart skipped a beat. Christ, it was the man from the second row whom she had teased from the runway. Would this night never end? A smile played around his lips as he nibbled on the melon, enjoying the look of shock that flickered across the model's face. Kerissa let her eyes drop to avoid his lascivious stare, but she could not ignore the swelling in his pants which was level with her face.

"Ahh, Paul, having a good time?" Charles said, sidling up next to the man.

"I'm having a fabulous time. Who wouldn't with a flawless body like this to feast off?" He grinned as he placed his hand lightly on Kerissa's thigh but didn't let it venture further as he reached for a chocolate coated strawberry which nestled in the hollow beneath her navel.

Charles nodded, "I'm glad to hear that my number one client is enjoying himself. You know how much we value your business, don't we Kerissa?"

Bastard, Kerissa thought as she locked eyes with Charles. She'd had enough of this crap. Aside from a couple of strawberries on her abdomen all the appetizers had been devoured. She'd done her stint for the night and she wanted to leave. Paul's palm, still motionless on her thigh, scorched her skin and she swallowed hard trying to ignore the sudden rush of wetness between her legs. What the fuck was her body doing responding and betraying her like this? She'd never felt more humiliated and exposed in her life.

"Charles, can I get up now please?" She tried to sound casual but the breathlessness in her voice could not be disguised.

"You know what I'd like to see as the finale to a great evening? Paul said softly. "I'd like to see those topless brunettes, eat the remaining strawberries off this gorgeous blonde.

"Noo..." Kerissa blurted, her green eyes flashing angrily.

The cold look in Charles' eyes spoke volumes and Kerissa bit back her response. That was it. She was history. Tomorrow she would be unemployed. She had no illusions of what would happen. Charles would make it known that her 'loyalty' to the house had wavered, that she was uncooperative, unreliable and difficult to work with and offers of any substance would cease. Why take a chance with her? Beautiful models were dime a dozen, lucrative contracts weren't. It was that simple. One day you were hot, the next day you were dead. If she was lucky she might get some commercial work; advertising shampoo or toothpaste. She shifted slightly on the table and held Charles' stare while her mind continued its debate. Or, she could take her chances and play out the rest of the evening. She was an artist, an entertainer after all. What harm could it do to put aside her pride and indulge them? At best she'd keep her contract, at worst; she'd go out in a blaze of glory. At least, no one would ever forget her.

Paul's voice broke into her thoughts. "Kerissa, I don't want you to do anything you wouldn't enjoy. There's no fun in that," he soothed softly. The tension between the model and her boss had not gone unnoticed by him, but it added a delicious edge to what was happening. "Can I make a suggestion?"

Kerissa shifted her gaze and arched her eyebrow expectantly. "And what would that be?"

"If the evening, so far has not been a turn on for you, we end it now. But if it has, we take it to the next level." His eyes stared challengingly into hers. "It's easy to test..."

Kerissa felt a shiver run up her spine as Paul's hand moved towards the smooth slot between her thighs. She raised herself up onto her elbows and looked around the room. It had become silent as once again, the attention of the men was focused directly on her.

"Are you wet, baby?" Paul asked softly.

"Oh God, wait," she said as his hand reached down to feel her. Paul felt her legs tense as he thrust two fingers into her steamy crease. A smile of victory spread over his face as the soft wet flesh yielded to him and gripped his manicured fingers tightly. He massaged her mound tenderly brushing his thumb over the hardened knob of her clit. Kerissa squirmed against his hand, shutting her eyes and biting her lip to try and block out the delicious sensations.

"Wait!" she gasped. "I'll do it! I'll do it, but there are two conditions." If she was going to have to fuck her way back in, it would be on her terms. She pulled herself away from Paul's fingers and let her eyes slide around the room. The men, most with bulging groins had begun to circle the table like predators while Lana and Dani cleared away the plates. A tall fair haired man gazed back at her, his eyes traveled over her naked body and lingered at the wetness that glistened on her smooth cuntlips. He massaged the taut fabric of his pants as he waited to hear her speak.

"Firstly, I want to know that my contract is safe." She turned to Charles and he nodded slightly.

"Say it!" she hissed.

"Kerissa was seen in another designer's clothes in public," he spat. "Tonight is part of her penitence and, yes, if she continues to show her loyalty for the House of Zior here, she will retain her contract."

Relief washed over Kerissa. The first condition was out of the way, "Secondly," she continued, "I am not some cheap slut. I will only fuck one man tonight." She smiled sultrily enjoying her brief moment of power. Every man in the room wanted to fuck her, but only one would claim the prize. "The man who holds off cumming the longest can have this," Kerissa said, lewdly spreading her legs to show off her glistening pussy. She fixed her green eyes on Paul and licked her lips seductively as she had done on the runway. The game was on.

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