Debbie and the Slave Auction 04

"Philogyny and Vulva Casting"

The Slave Auction Society had been in existence for over ten years and had a strict numerus clausus of fifty Members. When an old Member retired, a new Member was co-opted by a secret process, exclusively among the membership of the private club. Each Member was sworn to secrecy. Never in all those years had there been an indiscretion, a breach of confidentially or a whiff of scandal. Nor had there ever been an injury to the body or the reputation of a Slave. It was a Society of honorable gentlemen.

There was an initiation fee. The amount was held in strict confidence but rumored to be equal to the initiation fee at the most exclusive golf clubs in the northern and eastern suburbs of Gotham.

Members characterized themselves as "philogynists." Without exception, they uniformly admired and respected women and desired to promote their sexual satisfaction and empowerment. Any conduct or role playing that degraded a Slave or compromised her pleasure was frowned upon. No Slave would be subjected to treatment to which she did not consent.

During the course of the Auction, each Member committed to the principle of putting the Slave's pleasure before his own. He was expected to strictly control his desire and defer his pleasure. The Members mastered the art of edging - bringing themselves to the brink of orgasm but holding back before ejaculation.

This was not just a form of chivalry. It also preserved the communal aspect of the Auction and the solidarity ("all for one and one for all") of the "Grand Finale."

As we all know, a man's sexual interest abruptly declines after orgasm (contrary to that of a woman). Members who orgasmed early in the evening were more likely to lose interest in the proceedings and "check out" prior to the Grand Finale. That would be "bad form" and "unsportsmanlike," in the quaint, antiquated prep school terminology of the Members.

The Auction proceedings, and their culmination with the Grand Finale, will be described in more detail in a subsequent episode.

Perhaps the most "philogynistic" of all the Members - exemplified by his single-minded dedication to the study of female genitalia - was Carter W-T. (Like many Members, he had a hyphenated surname).

Carter was in his early forties. He had inherited a colossal fortune that insulated him - and presumably any of his prospective children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren - from the need to hold gainful employment. He was a handsome, well-bred, athletic WASP. His exquisite manners obscured the fact that he was of only middling intelligence and had no notable talents whatsoever.

He fancied himself an artist and took up sculpture, principally of female nudes, which provided a pretext for bringing attractive young models into his studio. This professional vocation supplemented his avocation of womanizing and promiscuous liaisons with assorted Instagram influencers and high end escorts.

Carter's progression as a sculptor, both creatively and technically, had stalled. His self-sponsored exhibitions and "vernissages" were the subject of derision in the hip Gotham artist circles. Nevertheless, since he was handsome, socially connected and fabulously wealthy, no-one would dare ridicule him to his face.

But then he hit upon a concept that would radically re-direct his artistic focus and energy and make him the talk of the town.

Phrenology and craniology were discredited 19th century pseudo-sciences that purported to derive anthropological insights from the shape of the human skull. In the same vein, an obscure 19th century German scientist had undertaken a detailed study of women's vulva, perhaps likewise hoping to find some overarching guiding anatomical principle (which apparently never emerged). His plaster vulva casts were stored in the basement of a Natural History museum in a provincial city in Bavaria. Carter made a special trip to Germany for the sole purpose of visiting the museum. The plaster vulvas - several dozen in total - were in a crate, covered in gray dust, looking sad and forlorn. Carter became obsessed with the idea of reviving and modernizing this practice.

While he was pondering his approach, some contemporary artists picked up on the idea of vulva casting. Rather than proclaiming a pseudo-scientific motivation, as did their 19th century forebears, these artists parroted the woke cant of "diversity" and "body positivism."

Carter first feared that his idea had been pre-empted, but then he came upon a novel and unique angle. The vulva casts failed to capture the perineal area and the anus. Perhaps a more comprehensive casting, including the vulva, the perineum and the anus, might reveal something important and establish statistically significant anatomical correlations (although, with his characteristically fuzzy thinking and lackadaisical follow-through, it was not clear what insights he might be searching for or how any statistical correlations would be calculated).

Using the highest grade silicone, and the most advanced molding techniques, he would seek to achieve a resolution and granularity that would distinguish his work from that of all others. (For example, the urethra was typically too fine a detail to be picked up by coarse plaster casting).

With boundless enthusiasm and unlimited resources, Carter set to work.

His father had endowed the industrial engineering department at the Gotham Institute of Technology, and so Carter solicited one of the junior faculty members to assist in designing his "casting saddle." The project took several months and generated several prototypes, before the final one was settled upon.

Astride the saddle, the subject's thighs were wide apart, the buttocks parted and the vulva, perineum and anus submerged in a basin, into which the warm liquid silicone was injected by a pump. As the silicone circulated, it adhered to, filled in and married the contours of the flesh and membranes. The whole process lasted about 20 minutes.

Carter set up the apparatus in the library of his vast duplex apartment. The library was spacious and paneled in dark wood. Large oriental rugs covered the herringbone parquet floor. There was a pool table in the far corner, next to large French windows opening onto a balcony overlooking Gotham's Central Park. A large working fireplace, imported from a European castle, was set in the middle of the opposite wall. The shelves were full of priceless first edition books collected by his father. (Carter himself had never had the intellectual curiosity or attention span to read a single book in its entirety). The library was furnished with leather club chairs and several large sofas.

Carter decided that Hannah, one of his Instagram dates, would have the honor of inaugurating the saddle and conducting a test drive.

Hannah was in her mid-twenties. She had a toned body reflecting her assiduous two hour per day work-out sessions. Her breasts were natural, not enhanced, full and soft. Her areolas were large and pinkish, her nipples erect and her thighs and buttocks firm and muscular.

Carter was an habitué at the most selective swinger sex club in Gotham, and Hannah was one of his regular "dates". Hannah liked to be the center of attention in all circumstances, and in the particular context of the sex club, her exuberant exhibitionism invariably made her the life of the party.

Engraved in his memory, Carter held vivid images of his sessions with Hannah at the sex club, in the thick of the action, including this one scene in particular. Hannah, lying on her back on a red velour bed in one of the back rooms, was panting and sweating, legs spread side while he fucked her, his cock pumping in and out, shining with her juice. Her head was turned to the side to take another man's cock in her mouth. Her long blond hair contrasted against the red velvet upholstery. A well hung black man knelt beside her, to Carter's left, gently stroking his cock until he ejaculated voluminously onto her stomach and breasts. Kneeling on the opposite side of Hannah, a young black woman, presumably his girlfriend, bent over and ran her tongue around Hannah's body, jealously licking up her boyfriend's sperm...

Carter was seated in the library in his leather club chair, with a scotch and soda in hand. His valet knocked at the door and brought Hannah into the library. She saluted Carter with a kiss on the lips. She was wearing black leather pants, a white silk blouse and stiletto heels. Wiithout waiting for an invitation, and without the slightest inhibition or need for the privacy screen, she stripped down to her bra and panties.

"I got waxed yesterday, hope that's OK?"

"Of course - in fact that's essential - I should have told you."

"No panties, right?"

"Obviously not."

"Can I take off my bra also?"

"Be my guest."

The valet, who was standing by, shifted nervously and pretended to look away, with feigned modesty.

Entirely nude save a pearl necklace, a piercing in her right nipple, a gold chain around her left ankle, and her stiletto heels, Hannah climbed onto the saddle and settled in.

Carter gave the order to his valet, who activated the saddle. A slight whir and hum was audible while the silicone was heated and started to circulate. After about thirty seconds, Hannah began to squirm as the warm liquid flowed around her bottom and up to her labia. Her breasts jiggled and her nipples became erect.

"Christ, Carter - I feel like I wet my pants!"

But then, after her initial surprise, Hannah settled in, half closed her eyes and savored the sensation of the warm liquid pulsating around her intimate parts, massaging her cunt and asshole.

"This feels almost as good as my sybian machine," Hannah murmured, biting her lower lip.

Carter let her comment pass - he had no idea what a sybian machine was. He took another sip from his glass and observed Hannah with a slightly bemused expression.

Her eyes closed, her face was flushed, and a sheen of perspiration appeared on her chest and breasts. Hannah shuddered and her thighs suddenly tightened against the side of the saddle...

Clearly, this maiden voyage had been a success beyond Carter's anticipation. The silicone casting of Hannah's intimacy proved astonishing in its anatomical detail.

Over the next months, rumors of the vulva casting saddle started to circulate in Gotham society circles. Often, at the table of a gala philanthropic dinner, one lady might ask another whether she was "au courant" of Carter's new artistic undertaking? Carter was far and away the most eligible bachelor in all of Gotham and was thus the subject of intense interest, scrutiny and speculation.

As time went by, Carter found himself obliged to accede to various request from these society women - generally ranging in age from early thirties to mid-forties - for a "sitting." The sittings unfolded in more or less the same predictable fashion. The lady was greeted by the valet and let into Carter's library. In the fall and winter months, a fire might be burning in the fireplace. Carter, dressed in his trademark tweed trousers and gingham shirt, would escort her in and invite her to disrobe behind the privacy screen. As she emerged, naked from the waste down, shy and blushing, she would explain to Carter that it was really her husband who had insisted on a casting session, to memorialize his love and admiration of her private parts.

"Yada yada yada," Carter thought to himself.

Carter would then settle into his leather club chair, drink in hand. The lady would mount on the saddle. Progressively, as the hot silicone liquid circulated, her inhibitions would dissipate and she would abandon herself to the intense sensation.

About five minutes into the session - from experience, watch in hand, Carter had it timed virtually to the second - the lady would start to unbutton her blouse.

"Carter, it is really warm in here, do you mind?"

"Of course not darling, make yourself comfortable."

She would then proceed to strip naked from the waist up, first off with the blouse, then - for good measure - off with the bra as well.

Belly and breasts fully exposed to Carter's gaze, nipples erect, she would shift slightly forward and then back on the saddle, faintly mimicking the riding of a cock, cowgirl style, obviously hoping to elicit a response on Carter's side. (She was however oblivious to the lurking presence of the valet). But Carter's demeanor always remained clinical and detached.

Carter's enterprise gained notoriety and started to draw interest from well beyond the narrow circle of Gotham demi-mondaines and socialites. Soon, among his "clients" he counted: a Hollywood star, nominated for an Oscar as Best Supporting Actress; the governor of a populous mid-Western state, who exuded sultry MILF appeal and thus garnered broad bi-partisan support among male voters; and a stunningly beautiful, notoriously debauched Russian concert violin prodigy, whose early exploits in gonzo porn had recently resurfaced on a celebrity website.

But what most distracted Carter from taking an interest in the succession of lascivious "subjects" who appeared for his casting sessions was the news that the mistress of ceremonies for the forthcoming Slave Auction would be none other than Debbie, the exquisite, ravishing Chinese girl.