The Tenth Performance

Shane laughed and said, "Well, that would solve our little conundrum, wouldn't it? Come on up here, Nicole!"

Nicole set her bra beside her on the pillow - she still hadn't put it back on, and from the way she was acting now, probably wasn't planning to - then hopped up to make her way onstage. She positioned herself just in front of the crystal ball, with Shane and Sebastian between her and the rest of us in the audience. Shane was still kneeling, and Sebastian was still standing there wearing nothing but his socks, and with his penis still mostly erect despite the interruption.

Nicole checked in with him, turning to Sebastian to ask, "Is this okay? Will I be too distracting?"

Sebastian shook his head and said, "No, you're ... I definitely like ... people. I've just never done this in the same room as anyone who wasn't actively participaaaae ..."

Sebastian didn't finish his sentence, because Shane had taken his penis into their mouth again. Nicole smiled and reached out to give Sebastian a gentle, encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, like hang in there, big guy.

Still - or again? - Nicole's nipples were clearly visible through the fabric of her shirt, hard like diamond cutters. And to us, Nicole said (in what was probably her best seminar presentation voice), "Do you see how Shane is taking their time, starting slow, and using their tongue over the entire tip? Oh, and, do note," Nicole said, pressing her knees together and dropping down to her haunches for a moment to gesture, or just to get a closer look, "Shane has their hand here, wrapped around his cock."

Okay, so, personally? I thought it was pretty hot to hear Nicole say the word 'cock.'

Nicole rose up again, continuing her explicit monologue while Shane sucked and Sebastian closed his eyes and quietly moaned.

"Your hand there, it's especially important when you first start, because you won't be ready yet to take anything too far into your mouth, but the person you're giving a blowjob to will want to feel your touch along their entire length. So, look, now that Shane has gotten Sebastian's cock all slippery with spit, and they're rubbing their hand back and forth along his length ... yes, do make sure that everything stays slippery, and warm ... and while you're doing it, a hand there might feel really good ..." and Nicole stepped in closer to press her palm against Sebastian's bare chest and asked him, throatily, "... does it feel good, Sebastian?"

He nodded. Sebastian's whole neck was reddening. "It feels great," he said, with his voice catching.

Nicole smiled and went on: "... so it'll feel good, and also you'll be making sure that if it feels so good that your partner's hips jerk, you won't take a cock too far into your mouth. Before you're ready. It can be fun, sometimes, to really open up and just let somebody fuck your face ..."

Shane started laughing despite the fact that Sebastian's penis was still filling up their mouth. Finally they leaned back to catch their breath and said, "You, Nicole?"

"What?" said Nicole, shrugging her hands to the side as she laughed. "I know we've all been tense since we got here, but I've had my share of fun! Now get back in there, you tiger, you!"

Shane smiled and gave Nicole a curt little military salute, then put their hands on Sebastian's hips and pulled him in close, then brought their hands back to his front and wrapped both around Sebastian's penis before taking him into their open mouth again. Shane's hands were constantly moving: curling, rubbing, cupping. And Shane's cheeks curved inward as they sucked.

"So, look," Nicole said, ready to resume her helpful description. "Shane has both their hands on his cock now, and can probably tell that Sebastian is getting closer ... you are getting closer, right?"

"Uh huh," Sebastian murmured, mostly inarticulately. Little beads of perspiration were gathering at his forehead and across his chest. I could smell the mingled scents of sex and sweat, both from our performers onstage and, if the wet warmth between my own legs was anything to go by, from some rather turned-on members of the audience.

Nicole smiled. "And as Sebastian gets closer, maybe he'll want to grab Shane's hair, or ... well, sure, I suppose cupping your hand over their cheek is a fair bit more romantic ..."

Shane, kneeling, had flushed when Sebastian reached down to touch them, lightly stroking his dexterous fingers over Shane's cheek and the underside of their jaw. Soon Shane was using a hand to caress their own body, over their clothes, alternately squeezing their own chest or stroking themself between their legs. As Shane's head bobbed, sucking, their earrings swayed.

"And all of us, watching," Nicole said, "we can see how close Sebastian's getting. But don't worry. From Shane's perspective, you'd know too, from the way Sebastian's muscles are tensing, and how much trouble he's having holding back ... can you see how his hips keep nearly buckling ... so it's not going to take them ... and probably wouldn't take you ... by surprise. You know. When he comes."

Nicole went on. "I mean, depending on your orientation ... like, in space, like how your bodies are arranged ... like, if the two of you were on a bed ... you might be able to reach his mouth, so you could try putting your fingertips near his lips, to see if he'll suck on them the way he wants for you to suck his cock. Now, right now, kneeling, Shane probably can't reach, but I could do it for them ..." and Nicole stepped in even closer, embracing Sebastian from behind, pressing the entire front of herself firmly against his tall, naked body - letting his sweat dampen her elegant shirt - and Nicole wrapped one arm around his torso, holding him tight, and reached her other hand up toward his face and deftly slid her fingers between Sebastian's slightly parted lips.

Sebastian let out a sudden gasp. And, okay, I'll admit: I had been very wrong about Nicole. She was, it seemed, incredibly sexy? And poised? Because somehow she still managed to keep narrating even as the man she was embracing began to shake. Even as she slid her fingertips in and out of his mouth.

Nicole said, "Okay, so, he's not using much tongue, but that might also be because he's very, very ..." and just then, Sebastian's body jerked. He was coming in Shane's mouth. Before Nicole could say the word 'close.'

Nicole wrapped both her arms around Sebastian's chest and clutched him tight as he bucked and squirmed, coming, coming. By then, Sebastian had planted both his hands on the back of Shane's head, clutching at Shane's hair, and Shane kept one hand on Sebastian's left thigh, steadying him, and also kept his penis in their mouth, swallowing.

"Let Shane have it all," Nicole murmured, and she inched up on her tippy toes to gently nip at Sebastian's ear. His body gave another little shake, which must have felt gratifying to Shane and Nicole both.

The muscles of Sebastian's thighs looked steely hard while he was coming. I remembered hearing something about him having been a distance runner. Half marathons, or marathons? His legs looked great. I imagine that Sebastian's legs would've felt like Superman's, just then.

Shane had one hand between their own legs and the other gripped tightly over Sebastian's quads. And they were surely swallowing valiantly.

Almost half a minute passed before Shane finally came up for air. At which point they took a few deep breaths and then smiled, saying, "Thank you, Nicole, for your excellent narration, because it turns out I couldn't have done a very good job at both."

"But I think you did a good job with the one!" Nicole said cheerfully.

Sebastian shook his head - his whole body was glistening with sweat. "You did a fucking great job, I thought."

"Oh, right," Nicole said, and turned to face the rest of us, addressing us with her presentation voice again, "afterwards you'll want to check in about how you did. What went well, and all. So that you can do even better next time. Because, I mean, Shane and Sebastian can do what they want, but my favorite encounters are always the ones where there gets to be a next time." She blushed a little, at that, and gave Sebastian one last gentle pat on his bare back, then hopped down off the stage and went back to her pillow.

Which left the rest of us still staring at Shane and Sebastian.

Sebastian looked a little embarrassed - that had obviously been a very intense experience for him - but after glancing down at his pile of discarded clothing, then back up at us, he just smiled and gave us all a deep bow.

Amid the clapping, Trevor shouted, "I love the emperor's new clothes!"

Shane said, "The socks really make it for him, right?" And we laughed.

#

THE FIFTH PERFORMANCE

#

It took a little while before the spell continued: Sebastian had almost lost his balance while attempting to step into his pants, and then, even after he was fully dressed, his face looked so flushed that he detoured to the bathroom sink and drank several big gulps of water from his cupped palms. He'd clearly had a good time, though - he gave Shane a big, unguarded grin when he came back from the bathroom.

Shane was already seated, and then Sebastian sat down, too.

And we waited.

Which seemed weird, so I spent a few moments just looking around the room, feeling puzzled. I mean, nothing had changed when Shane sat down, but I'd assumed that was because Sebastian had also gotten pulled into the performance, and he'd still been in the bathroom. But then, even after Sebastian sat, I still didn't see anyone else start glowing.

After a moment or two, though, I blushed, feeling really embarrassed. Yup - as soon as I glanced down at myself, I verified that the reason I hadn't noticed anyone else light up was because I was the person glowing. Honestly, it might've taken me even longer, except that everyone else had turned to look at me.

And then, well, shit: all of a sudden, the mere thought of standing up, just getting ready to walk up to the stage, made me feel a little dizzy. The fantasies that we were being shown were getting more intense as the evening went on. All of us were obviously feeling riled up, more turned on after each performance that we watched.

So I tried to look calm and confident as I rose from my seat and made my way toward the stage... but, really, my mind was racing. I was reflecting on how quickly the fantasies had gone from flashing, to stripping, to giving a freaking blowjob in front of a whole group of people!

Honestly, the throb of anticipation and worry was almost excruciating. My heart was pounding. My palms were sweaty. And everything between my thighs felt so warm, so wet, so electrically tingly. (Metaphorically electric, I mean: unlike when I'd first become haunted, I was no longer a walking shock machine.)

Still, I managed to do it. I made myself step up onto the stage. I walked forward, positioning myself just behind the crystal ball. (Up close, the crystal ball looked incredibly hokey, like the sort of prop that somebody would put into a low-budget movie.)

I took a deep breath. I was ready. I just needed to put my hands onto that crystal ball.

But then I hesitated, just for a moment, remembering that the crystal ball had shown each performer the fantasy in private, first, before the spell repeated the display for everyone else in the room. And in that moment, I suddenly worried that the delay would make things worse: what would it be like to have everyone else in the room see me go all "deer in headlights" while I was watching, if the fantasy seemed like something I wouldn't be able to do ... or even, I thought, what if they all saw me flush bright red with desire just before they found out what I was reacting to?

And then I'd have to watch the scene again, with them, while the full-sized shadows enacted a scenario that my classmates all knew had turned me on.

With my hands hovering there, just above the crystal ball, I accidentally gasped aloud, because I'd suddenly started wondering about what would happen if someone's fantasy led to me having sex right there, in front of everyone, or, god, if the spell asked me to invite several of my classmates to have me ...

I gulped.

I had watched this old movie musical, The Music Man, during a film studies class in college, and there's a scene in that movie for the song "Marian the Librarian" that shows a whole roomful of people dancing, and the ground floor of the library is full of cute, fit men, and Marian, the librarian in her curve-hugging dress, gets twirled around the room, and one after another new groups of men emerge from the stacks to grasp Marian's waist and dance in a line behind her, passing her ecstatic body between them. So many people. So many hands. And even though my college classmates and I had been watching the movie on a projector screen in class and were probably about to discuss, I don't know, the camera angles or choreographic pacing or something, I'd gotten so hot and bothered without quite understanding why, maybe not yet ready to acknowledge that something so absolutely raunchy - one after another, one after another - might be something that I liked imagining. And I'd watched that scene again, later, in my dorm room alone, and touched myself. And kept touching myself as I moved from my desk chair to my bed and closed my eyes, imagining elaborate extensions to the choreography, the scene continuing to unspool with Marian hoisted onto a table and spreading her legs for all those lovely dancers, except that, of course, I would play the role of Marian ...

And in that moment, at the Divinorium, with my hands hovering just above the crystal ball, I found myself thinking, god, what if someone here, now, has a fantasy about something like that? Could I do it, could I actually do it, in front of everyone? Even if I'd imagined it, and knew that someone else had also imagined it, wouldn't it be too much to actually do it?

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I could practically feel my pulse throbbing in my neck and between my legs. It was too much. Too intense. So, finally, I just scrunched up my eyes and forced myself to clamp my hands down at either side of the crystal ball. Prompting the spell to continue.

And then, when I opened my eyes again and gazed into the ball and watched the smoky figure enact a fantasy, I felt a wave of relief pass over me. I grinned involuntarily; I almost laughed! Because the fantasy that I was being shown seemed so tame compared to what I'd just been thinking!

I saw the gray figure, and I saw coils of rope leap from midair to wrap around the figure's body. Dear reader, that was all - just ropes lacing round and round until the shadow was thoroughly trussed, with no other shadows approaching to have their way with the person who would soon be me.

I was probably still grinning when I stepped around the crystal ball, like a self-satisfied kid who's been given a word like "cat" in the school spelling bee, and I spread my arms to announce, "I am enthusiastically ready to ..." but then I stopped speaking because that's when the room's darkness gathered to form a life-sized shadow in front of me, ready to repeat what I'd just seen.

With my classmates about to watch, I decided to close my eyes. Because, despite my earlier curiosity, in that particular moment I almost didn't want to know whose fantasy this was. I would simply give my performance to them, to any and all of my classmates who might feel scintillations of desire at the prospect of being tied up, of being bound by a lover or in front of a group.

I stood still, with my eyes closed, just letting myself feel a moment of meditative calm, until I heard Cora tentatively say my name.

I opened my eyes and rolled my neck. Stretched my shoulders and arms a little.

"Okay," I said. "Are we ready?"

"I think so," said Cora. "Are you?"

"I mean, yeah," I said, "although I'm not quite sure how this works. Like, for the shadow, were there magic ropes, or ..."

"When I talked to the spell," Shane offered, "it really felt like it was listening. You could just offer your consent, maybe, and see what it'll do?"

"Oh, sure," I said, and tried my best to mimic Shane's dramatic flair without feeling too terribly silly, spreading my arms and intoning in a faux-deep voice, "Oh mighty spell, I am here, and I am ready, and I am excited to be bound at your behest!"

Which shouldn't have done anything. Right? There is no way anything like that would work with any other spell I'd learned to cast.

For this spell, though, it was enough.

As I stood there, still standing expectantly onstage, I felt my cape begin to grow lighter. This was just a subtle decrease in the pressure over my shoulders, at first, or maybe a change in the way the fabric draped around my sides? Almost subliminal, but still, I noticed. And then I saw - at the lower hem, where the bottom of my cape had begun to vanish, a length of rope was forming midair.

The rope was tawny braided hemp - vaguely like something that might appear in a movie about pirates, but thinner and, by the looks of it, less coarse - despite having been conjured as my black cape disappeared. And the fabric of my cape hadn't had anywhere near enough material to make into that much rope. I mean, not all magic obeys conservation of mass: maybe the spell just needed a bit of matter to serve as a seed around which the rest of the fibers could condense, weaving together into an earthy-scented rope about as thick as my fingers.

The rope curled about my feet several times as it lengthened - as it circled my body, I felt reminded of a snake. The rope lay upon the carpeted floor, with plenty of space between it and my body, not tightening, not binding me yet, just ... waiting.

And piling up. Loop after loop of rope was forming, faster now, adding to the loose coils that had already settled upon the carpet. My cape was gone; it suddenly seemed to wink out of existence. And then, from the mass of rope, a strand rose into the air, like a cartoon cobra rising before a snake charmer, until the rope's end hovered level with my eyesight, bobbing there, as though it hoped to ask me a question.

And I felt the fabric of my shirt begin unraveling - my shirt becoming ever so slightly lighter - as its disappearance, too, seeded the material pouring into the coils of rope.

But, unlike what had happened with my cape, the shirt didn't suddenly vanish. A slim band had unraveled from near my waist, conjuring more rope ... and then the spell had stopped.

For a moment, nothing happened. The spell had paused. I was still standing there, onstage, unbound, mostly dressed, missing only my cape and the bottom inch or so of my shirt.

Mostly I was looking at the hovering strand of rope. But beyond it were my classmates: Ravi's eyes were on me, and Noah's, Sebastian's, Shane's, Cora's, Nicole's ...

In that moment, it felt nice to see how eagerly they were watching me.

"Yes," I whispered to the spell. "Keep going."

With those simple words, I felt the spell surge forward: the rest of my shirt unraveled in a rush, more coils of rope accumulating on the floor around me.

"Keep going," I whispered again, and sucked down a sharp intake of breath when I felt the room's air on my breasts. My bra had just unraveled.

Out in the room, my classmates looked rapt. Contemplating me as though I were a fascinating work of art. They'd known about some of my tattoos - a few of my starlings are uncovered whenever I wear short sleeves (even now, that piece is still my favorite, a treat for myself on my twenty-first birthday; they'd cost over three weeks of tips from my table-waiting gig, but I'd always loved the way that flocks of thousands seem to undulate through the sky and I'd wanted their communal magic adorning my own body) - although, actually, no, my classmates didn't seem to be squinting, trying to make out my tattoos at a distance. It seemed as though they were enthralled by the sight of me.