It was five minutes before eight, the choreographer gave his final instructions and complimented everyone on their work. Byron, the gallery owner reminded the dancers to continue to move around the gallery after their performance in order to highlight the hanging works. The lead dancer, took a deep breath delighted to be leading three such talented naked women in their routine. The four of them stood in a circle, held hands and breathed in and out slowly centering themselves. Diana looked at each of them, gave a little nod of approval and then said.
'You all look so lovely, so divinely feminine that no man or woman could fail to see you as anything less than the perfect expression of art,' her genuine appreciation was evident in every word.
'I want you all to enjoy the idea that your body is the most perfect piece of art ever produced. No artist, no master, not Michel Angelo, Rembrandt, Rubens, Picasso or anyone else has ever produced something as beautiful as you,' Diana continued.
In unison they took a deep contemplative breath. Diana was certain that Rebecca would remember this, her first public display of nudity, for the rest of her life. She was nervous for Rebecca, but knew that she would love every moment. Dancing naked in front of perfect strangers was so decadent, and always such a thrill.
'Are we ready?'
'Yes Mistress,' came their reply.
They quickly hugged one another and assured each another that they were beautiful before heading for the door. The choreographer gave them one last hurrah, and as they left the dressing room Diana reminded them that they were not to talk to any of the patrons.
'Not a word. Do you understand me?'
'Yes mistress,' their voices were in unison.
The four dancers made their way out into the gallery, empty but for the art, and a solitary drummer. They fidgeting nervously as they took up their positions. When Byron opened the main doors their very being was transformed into performance. The drummer began to tap out a sexy, ta tee tut ta tee, rhythm on the snare, the lights were turned down low and the first patrons appeared. Within a couple of minutes fifty people had made their way into the gallery. Elegant women in long black dresses offered them champagne. And then there was Victoria. Tall, athletic, her tight shapely muscles always cut a sublime figure, but her form was almost outdone by her outrageous dress. Her tall black boots were set off by patterned thigh-high stockings, her short-high-gloss polyurethane trench coat barely covered her bottom. Unbuttoned, her perfectly sculpted tummy was bordered with black lace panties and bra. To top it off her lop sided pig tails, dark lipstick and dusky eye shadow enhanced her intense searching gaze. As she walked between the patrons she searched their souls, she searched their hearts for the kind of passion, the kind of desire she could make her own.
Victoria rubbed herself up against a man holding his wife's hand, to his delight and his wife's disgust. She cupped another man's arse and even groped at his manhood in front of his partner, while he looked surprisingly nervous, his partner smiled and her eyes sparkled. Perhaps I should have tried her, Victoria mused. Sex, erotic, breathless, exhausting sex was everywhere just waiting. The only thing more Victoria could have wished for was the whistle of the lash through the air, the sound of hot fast leather colliding with perfect, smooth skin and the whimper of satisfaction. Victoria was like a goddess walking among mere mortals.
Ta tee tut ta tee, the four perfectly naked women standing artistically in the middle of the gallery, changed their stance again. Their boots and headdresses their only encumbrance. Victoria spotted a delicious looking woman with a not so flavorsome, but obviously wealthy man. Victoria's lovely long legs seemed more perfect than ever, stepping, prancing with a deliberately stylized motion as she skirted the room, honing in on her prey. She caught the woman's eye, their gaze lingered. Victoria swished her coat aside and placed her hand on her hip, bare but for the delicate strap of her lace g-string. Her perfect tummy rippled as she approached the couple. It was quite a performance, her seductive raw sexuality was in more than her walk or her over-exposure, it was in her devouring eyes. Rata-ta-tat rata-ta-tat, the four women assumed a different erotic stance, this time placing their hands so delicately, so lovingly on each other. Victoria ignored them, enveloped in her own drama. She drew near to the couple her eyes fixed, looking deep into the man's eyes. As she passed him, she ran her hand across his chest. She maintained eye contact with the man but stopped directly in front of the woman that stood at his side. Victoria rested her hand on the man's shoulder as she pressed her body close to the woman, then with one quick movement Victoria turned to face the woman. They stood so close that the end of Victoria's nose brushed ever so lightly against the woman's cheek. They both seemed to take a breath, Victoria tilted her head and kissed her ever so delicately on the lips. Instinctively the woman moved her hand, resting on Victoria's thigh. Again Victoria looked her in the eye, searching her inner self, then she closed her eyes, brought her other hand to rest in the small of the woman's back, turned her face away from the man so that they stood cheek to cheek,
'I would like to put nice red stripes across your lovely bottom,' she whispered almost hoarsely, as she slid her hand down to caress the woman's curvaceous rear. The woman didn't pull away, instead a feint wry smile curled her lip and lit up her eyes. Victoria could feel the woman's fingers press against her hip and her breath against her neck. Victoria had found her mark. As she left the couple standing together she let her hand fall from the man's shoulder, slowly traced it across the woman's breast, down her body, and over her pubic mound before allowing it to slip away. Unbeknown to Victoria, the woman felt warm all over, flushed and agitated. The woman took a breath and tried not to watch Victoria slink away, but she couldn't help herself. Victoria knew she had her when she glanced back to see the woman looking longing after her. She smiled to herself when the woman quickly looked away, her desire unmasked, defenseless, she was ashamed of wanting to taste the forbidden. Even better, Victoria noticed that the woman avoided eye contact with her man. When he spoke directly to her, the woman looked away into the distance, which was not easy in such a small gallery. She was evading his inquiry. Victoria's heart leapt as she imagined the man asking his devoted wife what the tramp said to make her smile. Victoria knew by the woman's body language that she lied, confirming that she was Victoria's for the taking.
Byron took to mingling with the patrons as the gallery slowly filled. For him it was quite an achievement; erotic art covering the walls, sculptures, almost pornographic in their depictions contorted on stone plinths, and then there was the beautiful live art to be enjoyed. Victoria loved her master, Byron gave her almost everything she ever wanted. Despite wanting her all to himself he found an obscene pleasure seeing her dressed as an expensive whore teasing his patrons. Everything about her was intensely erotic, hard and viscous.