Winning the Blonde Goddess

As per Darya's instructions, Nari and I began to spend a lot more time together. I usually ended up hanging out with him after rehearsals. He showed me some of his favorite places in the city of Fairhaven, and he made dinner for me quite a few times. It turns out he's actually a pretty good cook.

To the casual observer, it looked like Nari was my boyfriend. Nari was slender and boyish-looking, but also athletic. He had excellent muscle tone and four pack abs from doing thousands and thousands of sit-ups. He'd be considered quite a catch in the gay community.

Now that I think about, I fit that description as well. I suppose either one of us would be considered quite a catch in the gay community.

At any rate, Christopher assumed that I was Nari's new boyfriend, as did most of the other dancers at the Chandler Theatre. The choreographers probably thought the same thing; however, I was on one of the lowest rungs in the ballet company. Performers at my level almost never socialize with choreographers. Choreographers are usually seen as cruel sadists by dancers on the lower rungs of the ballet ladder.

The good news was, Fairhaven was a city where homosexuality didn't have a stigma attached to it.

I was just beginning to adjust to my status as the ostensible lover of a male ballet dancer, when Darya approached me with a new difficult test for me to pass.

"This one will please not only me," Darya proclaimed, "it will also please the Chandler Theatre's new artistic director, and a number of our patrons."

"What?"

I exclaimed, "You've been telling other people about the tests you're putting me through?"

"I have not," Darya said, with a wicked smile spreading across her face, "although I very much enjoy the look of panic on your face just now. I think I should like to see that look more often. It amuses."

I tried very hard to control my feelings of confusion and dread and slow down the frantic beating of my heart, although I'm pretty sure I failed spectacularly. The wicked smile on Darya's face remained unchanged.

"This test will maybe also make you panic. I will eagerly wait to see if it makes you blush and squirm in an adorable manner."

I sighed and listened carefully as Darya laid out the details.

Our new artistic director had met with the ballet mistress and a few other notables in the Chandler Theatre Ballet and they had decided to hold a fundraiser at the home of one of our wealthiest patrons. Fundraisers at the home of ballet patrons had been done before, however, this time there was a twist.

"We will hold a live auction, selling clothes worn by professional dancers. The dancers will stand in front of a crowd of bidders and each time a piece of clothing is sold, they must shed that piece of clothing."

Realization slowly dawned upon me. "Wait! Are you saying that the artistic director wants dancers to strip naked for a fundraiser?"

"It is for a good cause," Darya assured me, "and all of the dancers who strip naked must volunteer. The artistic director would never force any of our dancers to strip naked in public."

I sighed again, "But the whole purpose of this auction is parade us around naked in public."

"Of course," Darya confirmed, "The people who attend this auction do not really want to buy the clothes off your back, they want to see you naked. Buying your clothes is just a means to an end."

"Oh God, no," I moaned, seeing where this was going.

"I want you to be one of the dancers who volunteers to strip naked for the fundraiser," Darya confirmed.

"This won't be like stripping naked for you and Nari. Do you know how many people usually show up for these fundraisers?" I asked.

"Is this joke?" Darya asked, "I know better than you how many people show up for fundraiser. Last time it was eighty-eight. This time it will probably be more than one-hundred. Nudity will definitely bring in more people."

"I have never stripped naked in front of a crowd of a hundred people," I say with a pleading tone in my voice, "It would be demeaning and embarrassing."

"Yes, it would," Darya agreed, "however, you promised that you would prove to me that you can be humble and self-sacrificing for me. Stripping naked for a crowd of strangers would certainly be self-sacrificing. Are you going back on your promise?"

Darya gave me a feminine smile that somehow seemed both innocent and smug at the same time. In the end, she knew that I would agree to her terms and that I would volunteer to strip naked for the fundraiser.

The new artistic director was noticeably impressed with me. I was the first dancer to volunteer for the auction. She told me that I was a real "team player" and she loved my "constructive attitude".

I guess it doesn't hurt for the artistic director have a favorable opinion of you.

. . .

. .

My quick response in volunteering inspired other dancers to follow in my footsteps and volunteer for the auction as well. Shortly after I volunteered, Christine signed up. Then Christopher, Daniel, Joseph, and Lena all volunteered on the same day. One day later, Morgan and Svetlana also volunteered. I think they saw the praise and adulation I was getting from the new artistic director and they decided that they wanted to curry favor with her as well.

. . . . .

The date of the auction was August the 24

th

, and it was held at Catherine van Noord's home out in Augustus Beach. It's an impressive-looking house. Viewed from the outside, strong gates and high walls kept out uninvited visitors. Viewed from the inside, cherrywood paneling, crystal chandeliers, expensive furnishings and a dining room the size of a church parking lot impressed those of us lucky enough to be invited inside.

It was easy to see how Catherine Van Noord was able to be so generous in her patronage. She had to be a multi-millionaire to live in a house this extravagant.

When the volunteers had all arrived, one of the household servants led us into a room and gave us boxes with the clothes that we would be wearing that evening. Inside my box was a brand-new tuxedo, a white shirt, socks, shoes and a pair of bikini briefs.

The women were sent into one room to change into their new clothes and then men were sent into another.

I thought it strange that they were thinking about modesty at this point. I was soon to be stripped naked in front of dozens of total strangers. Why were they protecting me from female dancers seeing me in the nude?

I didn't spend a lot of time pondering that question. I was too nervous to do much thinking at all. Honestly, I think we all were. Christopher studiously avoided making eye-contact with the other men in the room, and the guys who did make eye-contact with me had eyes that were wide with anxiety and dread.

We had all volunteered, but that didn't mean that we weren't gripped with feelings of distress and foreboding about stripping naked in front of scores of sophisticated, judgmental eyes that would examine us with prurient interest.

"How many people are going to be out there in the audience?" Joseph asked as he was mid-way through getting dressed.

"I have no idea," I replied, "Eighty, a hundred, maybe more. Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters," Joseph said emphatically, "the more people there are in the audience gawking at me, the nakeder I'm going to feel!"

"Nakeder

isn't a real word," Daniel said helpfully.

"It is today," Joseph insisted, "When a hundred strangers are checking out your ass like they're thinking of taking it out for a test drive, you'll understand what I'm talking about."

. . . . .

There was an open bar, and the bidders were encouraged to take advantage of it before the auction began. I was told by Christopher that people were prone to bid higher if they were drunk. As a result, we were made to wait in dread and trepidation before we were marched out to sacrifice our dignity in front of the crowd of strangers.

While we were waiting, a woman named Eva came into the room and introduced herself to us. She had a pixyish haircut, a friendly face and a disarming smile. She was dressed very dapper in black dress slacks, a white shirt and black suspenders.

"I'll be the mistress of ceremonies for this event," Eva explained, "so, in a sense you and I will be working together this evening."

"So, will you be stripped naked in front of dozens of strangers too?"

"No, that's not my purpose here tonight. I'm here to supervise and watch over and make sure the auction goes smoothly."

"No offense Eva, but it seems to me that you'll be overseeing our humiliation tonight. It doesn't seem to me like we're working together. It seems like my friends and I are sheep, and you're the sheepdog, making sure we get herded to our horrible fate."

My words were unnecessarily harsh, however Eva's amicable smile never faltered. She was either an extraordinarily convivial, well-disposed person, or she was exceedingly good at faking it.

"Scott, are you nervous?" she asked.

"Terrified."

"Okay, Scott, I'm going to give you some advice. When the auction starts, don't look out into the audience. Focus on me instead of them. I think you'll find that I'm a lot less threatening."

Her genial smile remained on her face and she maintained eye contact with me, waiting for me to respond. Despite my feelings of helplessness and dread, and even though Eva would be overseeing my humiliation, I found my resentments towards her crumbling. Much to my surprise, I realized that I wanted Eva and I to be on good terms.

"Thanks Eva," I finally replied, "I'll try that.

Eva spent a few minutes trying to soothe our fears and anxieties, and then she went off to try and get the female dancers ready as well.

Eventually, we were all gathered up from our dressing rooms and herded out onto a stage at the northernmost part of the large dining room. Eva walked out in front of us with a microphone and made certain everyone focused their attention on her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, patrons of the arts," Eva called out, "my name is Eva! I'll be your mistress of ceremonies this evening for this first annual clothing auction to raise funds for the Chandler Theatre!"

There was a smattering of applause, and then Eva continued, "Ballet dancers are like moving sculptures, like pieces of art that change with the music. They're graceful, elegant and in complete control of their bodies."

Eva waved a hand in my general direction and then added, "Ballet dancers like the ones we have here tonight are engaged in arduous physical training that rivals the training Olympic athletes undergo. And as loyal patrons of the ballet, you know what sorts of bodies result from all that training, firm, sculpted legs, beautiful beyond the scope of what other athletes achieve. The shape of their legs — slim, smooth thighs, defined hamstrings and firm buttocks."

Eva got more applause as she talked about our firm buttocks and I started to wonder about our patrons. How many patrons of the ballet watch us just to lust after our bodies?

"Ballet training builds a sleek look, strength, flexibility, long, lean muscles and high, firm buttocks," Eva continued, "And in addition to a lean, toned, and beautifully sculpted dancer's body, this training also delivers poise, confidence, and refined elegance. "

There was more applause, much more enthusiastic this time.

"We want to witness these lithe, lean, toned, elegant young athletes up close and to worship their sculpted, perfect bodies, however, sitting in the front row, near the orchestra pit there is still a great deal of distance between you and the young, perfect bodies you admire so much. Tonight, we remedy that oversight, by bringing the dancers directly to you and removing the barriers between performer and patron."

I shifted my weight uncomfortably as Eva spoke. The way she talked about removing the barriers between us sounded almost she were selling us at auction, are at least renting us out like prostitutes.

"Now as this is an auction, the privileges of getting close to these perfectly sculpted athletes will have to be earned by outbidding your fellow patrons of the arts, so I hope you all brought your checkbooks and are willing to be fiercely generous and ambitious in your bidding."

My stomach did a flip when I realized I was going to be the first dancer to strip naked. Eva instructed me to step forward to center stage, almost to the edge. I looked out into the audience and there were well-dressed men and woman murmuring. A few of them were around about my age, but most of them were in their thirties or forties.

"Our first volunteer is named Scott," Eva explained, "He's young, just nineteen years old and this is his first year with the Chandler Ballet. No one has ever seen him dance on stage professionally before, however tonight you get a chance to see his young, perfect body without the unfortunate disadvantage of tights, dance belts or other types of clothing obscuring his beauty."

Both men and women in the audience stared at me with prurient hunger in their eyes. I suddenly felt lightheaded. My heart pounded madly in my chest and I felt short of breath. Then, I remembered Eva's advice and I tore my gaze away from the audience and stared fixedly at her. Much to my surprise, I was able to breathe easier while staring at Eva. She really did seem less scary than the predatory-looking spectators in the audience.

As I got my breathing under control, I realized that Eva had gotten my age wrong. Was that a mistake on her part, or was she hoping to get higher bids by telling them that I was a teenager? Would they find it more exciting to strip a teenager, or strip a twenty-two-year-old?

"The first item that we're going to sell off Scott's back is a sharp and refined black tuxedo jacket. It's trim-fitting, has a satin-edged peak lapel, and the winning bidder also gets his matching bowtie. May I have an opening bid of fifty dollars?"

I closed my eyes and heard a man call out a bid of fifty dollars. A woman's voice quickly topped it. Four or five other voices rapidly joined in, and a bidding war ensued.

"Sold to Maria Salinas for four-hundred dollars," Eva eventually shouted triumphantly, "Maria, come up and get your purchase!"

I watched as a middle-aged woman came marching across the room, made her way onto the stage, looked me in the eyes and then then placed her hands on me to untie my tie and unbutton my jacket.

Feeling a stranger's hands on my body as she took my jacket was bad enough, however the worst was still to come.

"Next up, we're selling the white pique tuxedo men's custom dress shirt off of Scott's back! This shirt has a president spread collar with a French cuff. Woven with a soft 80s 2-ply fine twill construction, it has a very subtle bit of shine that increases the vibrant white color. May I have an opening bid of eighty dollars?"

Eva was getting bolder, starting the opening bid higher this time. Perhaps she decided that the audience was far more eager to see me naked than she originally anticipated. At any rate, she started the bidding off at eighty dollars this time, and the crowd did not disappoint. The bids flew like bullets in a Bruce Willis action movie.

From eighty dollars, the bids rapidly climbed, finally topping out at one-thousand. The person who placed the winning bid is young, probably no more than eighteen or nineteen. He was a boyish and looked like a cross between Toby Maguire and David Hogg. Only he has a prurient smile on his face that would seem totally out of place on either Toby or David.

He came up on stage and gave Eva a check. Then he walked over to me to claim his prize.

The young man stood uncomfortably close, and I noticed very expensive looking diamond earrings in both of his ears. Also, his hair was wavy and very professionally styled. I started to understand how he could afford to bid a thousand dollars for the clothes I was wearing.

He took his time unbuttoning my shirt. And when the buttons on the front were all undone, he took a few seconds to fondle my abs, my ribcage and pretty much the entire front of my body. My eyes widened in surprise and I gave him an accusatory look as I suspected he wasn't allowed to feel up the dancers, but he just gave me an enigmatic smile, stripped my shirt off my body and walked off the stage.

My socks and shoes sold for far more than they were worth, then Eva began to take bids for my dress slacks.

At this point I could feel my face growing hot with panic and embarrassment. By my estimate there were about one-hundred people in the crowd, and I was down to my last two items of clothing. Once my slacks and underwear were sold, I'd be standing naked and exposed in front of scores of libidinous strangers, all eager to stare at my naughty bits.

Bidding on my dress slacks was too frantic and enthusiastic for my tastes. The bidding began at ninety-five dollars, however, it seemed as if everyone in the room was bidding on them all at once. Eva had trouble keeping up with the bids as they skyrocketed to two-hundred, then five-hundred, then twelve-hundred.

The people in that room really wanted to get me out of my pants. Both men and women were equally eager to take me out of my clothes, and the winning bidder was a middle-aged brunette in a black evening gown. She was really eager to claim her prize and practically sprinted across the room and vaulted her way onto the stage.

Once she was on the stage with me, she slowed down, apparently deciding to savor the moment.

"Eva was right," the well-dressed woman said as she stood intimately close to me, "Your body really is lean, toned and sculpted. Your body is perfect!"

She knelt in front of me, largely blocking the audience from seeing what she was doing as she undid the buckle on my belt. Rather than unzip my pants right away, she spent several seconds with her hand on the front of my pants, feeling my semi-erect cock through the fabric of my trousers.

"You're more well-hung than my husband," she whispered as she roughly fondled my erection through my clothes, "I wish we'd met four years ago."

I shivered as she played with my cock and caused my erection to throb. Being half-naked and fondled in front of a crowd of interested spectators made me feel like I was a slave being sold a public auction. I trembled slightly and felt feverish. At this point in the auction, I'm certain I must have been blushing.

Then she undid the front of my pants, unzipped me and fondled my thighs as she pulled my pants down. Then, as she walked off the stage and I was wearing nothing but a pair of tight, spandex bikini briefs, I heard her say, "Best money I've ever spent."

The bidding on my last piece of clothing started at two-hundred dollars and accelerated furiously. The bidding didn't end until a wealthy woman bid three-thousand dollars for my last piece of clothing.

She looked more distinguished and well-dressed than any of the others who had stripped me of my clothing. She was wearing a one-shoulder black evening gown with a side leg-slit. Her auburn-red hair was styled into a side-swoop and she had an intense, smoldering look in her eyes.

I felt light-headed, feverish and on the verge of passing out and I anticipated the dread humiliation that was imminent. There were over a hundred people watching me with intense interest as this well-dressed woman prepared to strip me completely naked.

I tried not to look out into the audience, but I could feel scores of eyes burning holes through me. The well-dressed redhead looked elegant and dapper as she slid her hands across my nearly-naked body.

She cupped my ass and aggressively fondled my fully-erect cock through the thin fabric of my bikini underwear. She squeezed one of my butt-cheeks and then the other, before commenting, "The M.C. was right. Your buttocks really are nice and firm."