A Very Private Fashion Show

(The story so far:

Stunningly sexy Ms. Debra Drake, former lingerie model and current trophy wife, found herself to be the only model at The Club's very private fashion show. Dressed in see-through lingerie, she entertained the gentlemen even more than she knew, as she was under the mysterious control of The Voice.)

I at last had Ms. Debra away from her adoring fans, which is to say, all of the gentlemen of The Club. They were clearly quite taken with this beauty, and I sensed their breathless anticipation of how Debra would be dressed-- or rather, undressed-- for her next performance.

She was squeezing my hand so hard but I didn't mind. We had developed quite a rapport, an element of trust-- trust that was of course misplaced as I was the one commanding her to strip and turning her into nothing but our nude entertainment for the evening.

"Where is this next outfit?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Oh," I said. "It's very special. It's made of a thin metallic fabric. I have to tell you: some women have a strange reaction to wearing it. But it is so very sexy and you will look fantastic!"

"Oh," she replied, nervously. "What kind of reaction?"

"Don't you worry, sweet lady; I'll be right at your side, watching over you." Reginald appeared, carrying her 'outfit,' just out of her sight. "I am going to ask you to close your eyes, and keep them closed until you're newly dressed."

She did so, reluctantly. She was swallowing hard and licking her lips. Then I started undressing her.

"Wh-- what are you doing?!" she cried, as I lifted up her arms and began pulling the negligee off her trembling form.

"Shh," I whispered. "You just have to trust me." The nightie off, I handed it over to Reginald, who was watching in open admiration. I pulled her panties down without hesitation. When they reached her bare feet, Reginald had to help me lift her feet to get them completely off. Now she knew she was being undressed against her will by two men.

"Oh," she sighed. "Oh, you-- you can see me!" She was nearly sobbing, body shaking.

I leaned in, put my hands on her bare shoulders, and gave her a very sweet kiss on her soft lips. "You're doing just fine," I informed her. "You're getting very used to... the male gaze... all of this exposure."

She let out a long long sigh and relaxed somewhat. I watched for a moment as the rising and falling of her breasts subsided a bit. It was still a lovely sight.

Now for the hardest part. It was going to be almost exactly like 'The Emperor's New Clothes'; she was going to be practically naked but I had to convince her she was wearing "something."

Reginald handed me the nipple jewelry and I had to admit it was very clever. It was two metal keys that looked very real. They could be arranged in any direction but, once clipped on, the lady's nipples would be nicely poking out through the round portion of the keys.

"Alright Debra. It looks as though we'll be putting your top on first. It's really nothing but a very thin metallic strap that wraps around your body." I lifted her arms up again as I went through the motions of wrapping the imaginary strap around her back.

I took the opportunity of supposedly adjusting the top over her breasts to more carefully examine her 38Cs. I took a breast in each hand and lifted them. They felt so yielding to my touch, so soft and supple. There was practically no droop to them at her confirmed age of 36, but I could detect nothing artificial in these natural wonders. I ascribed their perfect roundness and their buoyancy to a combination of good genes, health and exercise.

"Now, as for your nipples..." I began to finger them lightly, watching her body respond. "Do they get any longer than they are now?"

She licked her lips, eyes still closed, as she began to breathe deeper. "Uh, yes. A little."

"Will this work?" I asked as I began suckling her left nip.

She gasped and started opening her eyes.

"You have to keep your eyes closed!" I warned her. "I simply must get these nipples as hard and as long as possible before I adjust the front."

Once I finished sucking and nibbling on both nipples, I examined my work and was very satisfied. I clamped the first key on her right nipple and of course she gasped.

"Wh-- what are you doing?!"

"There are adjustable metal discs in front," I lied. "I can make them larger or smaller so that they just cover up your aureole." I proceeded to her left nipple. They really shouldn't have hurt her that much: the clip-on part was padded with soft material.

I stood back and took in the sight of her: naked and blushing with heaving breasts and elongated nipples that were now adorned with two silver keys.

Time to move below her waist and take a really close look at what I had to work with.

Her outer lips were no longer as properly closed as when we started. Now her clitoral hood was making a bold appearance. Just below, her previously unseen inner lips had puffed up considerably, pushing their way out.

I briefly knelt between her legs and pulled her thighs apart even more. Her vagina still looked surprisingly small, closed and safely tucked away at the very bottom of her soft pink folds, the swirl of flesh around it appeared so delicate, so sensitive. As I watched, a tiny bead of liquid appeared, oozing out and glistening. I put my finger to it and tasted her. She was exquisite.

I stood up again and Reg handed me the last of the accessories. It was a thin sliver chain that went around Debra's waist.

"I'm putting your bottoms on now," I informed her. Obediently, she lifted up one foot at a time. Reginald spared me more kneeling as he bent down, smiling, and helped her into the imaginary clothing.

Attached to the chain was a pendant that dangled enticingly over Ms. Drake's equally enticing mound. At the end was a tiny silver lock: a match to the pair of keys clamped to each breast.

I did have to bend down again and Reg helped. The pendant chain was adjustable in length and I knew it was intended as a 'clit-tapper,' meaning that that little metal lock would keep striking in the clitoral area with every step she took.

Once I was done I had to step back and catch my breath. This incredible, auburn-haired, mature, buxom beauty's state of nakedness was so enhanced by the silver accessories. Then Reginald added a helpful suggestion:

"I would have her in the silver, open-toe stilettos, sir. They would simply... complete her most fetching look."

I agreed. Reg looked around in some shoe boxes and emerged with what turned out to be the perfect fit. He paused and looked her over.

"Excellent sir; excellent." And then he nodded and walked away.

It was at last time to tell Ms. Drake what she was 'wearing.' Her eyes were still tightly shut which help greatly in her imagining of this imaginary outfit.

"You're wearing a very daring metallic silver bikini. The top, as I described, is nothing but the thinnest of straps tightly wound around your upper body. There is an adjustable metal disk over each nipple that barely covers your aureole.

"Down below, all you're wearing is a thin silver chain around your waist. Attached to the chain in front is a triangle of thin metallic fabric. It's simply dangling over your pudenda; the only thing keeping you from being exposed is that it's weighted down-- about over your vagina."

She was breathless already. I knew she couldn't wait so at last I told her to open her eyes. The first thing she did was look down at herself and gasp: "Oh my god! I'm almost naked!"

I took her hand and we began the squeezing routine as I led her to the curtain where she make her second entrance. Then she said only the first of many things that would totally shock me:

"This-- this is my fantasy!"

I stopped and turned and looked at her.

"What?!"

"I wanted to be... I wanted to go as-- you know-- the Princess from 'Star Wars' in her metal bikini. But my husband said 'no way!' but I ordered it anyway--"

"Whoa!" I said. "Slow down. So, you wanted to wear the bikini to a costume party, your husband said 'no'-- how is this your fantasy?!" I was glancing nervously at the curtain. This was taking way too long to get her out there but I was intrigued.

She looked around and whispered: "I sometimes wear that silly bikini when my husband's not home-- which is most of the time! I pretend I've been captured and they're making me wear it; they're watching me. Then I... umm... they pull it down and..."

I had her tell me her whole fantasy about who 'they' were, how she was captured, etc. This was going to be unprecedented: we were going to be acting out the secret fantasy of our female guest; and no one would know it except Debra and me.

I gave her yet another kiss; a warm and lingering one... and she responded, even providing me a lingering taste of her tongue. I gave a heavy sigh and told her to wait until she was properly introduced.

Then I stopped. I left her standing there and rummaged around in a box stored in one of the cubicles. I came back with a gleaming pair of silver handcuffs.

"Oh no," she started, "I--"

I pulled back her arms and snapped them on in one expert movement. "Don't worry," I said. "These complete your look."

At last I exited through the curtain. The gentlemen were quite happy to see me; there was so much anticipation about how naked Ms. Drake was going to be as well as how much of a hands on experience I was going to allow.

I went to the podium and cleared my throat. Either this was about to be a legendary event in Club history... or I was about to be expelled, with sweet Debra's body and mind taken away from me.

"Gentlemen," I began. "We have a very special treat for you tonight. All the way from the planet Earth, a Princess Debra of the House of Drake has made her way to our little planet, extending the hand of friendship."

(The gentlemen were silent, looking at each other.)

"Little did she know, we of the planet Andros have made a habit of enslaving beautiful women for our pleasure. Poor Princess Debra has had all of her pretty clothes torn from her body and burned in front of her. She has been thoroughly evaluated as a pleasure slave, although her sexual responsiveness will need further training-- which I'm certain you will provide.

"Gentlemen," I said. "I present to you the slave that was once known as Princess Debra!"

All eyes turned to the far left curtain and once again I held my breath. But then there she was, 5' 8" and all bare legs and 38C - 26 - 36 and all delicious, naked curves.

She stumbled in her stiletto heels, unable to balance herself with hands cuffed. The men all had their mouths open and didn't notice. She gave me a look as if to say: 'that was acting,' and I knew that I was lost.

Ms. Debra Drake was deep into her own secret fantasy and she was controlling the show.

I saw movement amongst the audience and I tore my gaze away from her naked form. The men were all rising, they were starting to cheer and applaud. My mouth went dry. They were all assuming that I had imposed this sci fi fantasy on this poor girl. Little did they know.

I waited for the gentlemen to settle down. In the meantime, Debra was playing her part. She walked shakily to center stage on her spiky heels. Her breasts were heaving with each breath and her nipples were longer and harder than ever, as if determined to poke right out through the metal clamps.

Somehow it seemed that every time I saw her crotch those outer lips were more open, those inner lips even more distended. Her pale pink clit was visible to me at my close angle of view and it was boldly unsheathed, the hood above also swollen and pushing through her labia.

Her finely muscled legs and firm thighs were also more open than ever before, and I swear that I saw her sweet vagina wink open at me, and, as it did, a tiny drop of milky whiteness beaded out. The drop briefly swelled up into a tiny sphere before it broke and dropped to the floor.

I saw her staring down at me, looking into my eyes, and I wondered if it was my gaze that was drawing out those drops. How many more could I coax out of her body without even touching her?

I had to compose myself and get back into the fantasy-- was it my fantasy, our fantasy, or her fantasy?

"As you can see, the Princess is undressed for your pleasure. I will now have her turn and show you her naked body from all angles before bringing her down for your close examination."

Debra obediently and slowly turned. When she was facing away, I had bend all the way down as if she was trying to touch her toes while spreading her legs as far apart as she could. What a sweet view of every touchable and fuckable part that she had, presented to us all at once!

At last I went up on the stage to take her down to the waiting men. I regretted not leashing her; instead, I gripped her handcuffs tightly and lightly pushed.

Watching her nude body as she negotiated the stairs in those stilettos was breathtaking. Her curvy ass was pushed out and back as her hairy mound was simultaneously pushed forward. Her breasts appeared to be shimmering with each step, even without the metal gripping each nipple.

Then she was down on the floor. There was only a moment of hesitation and any man who wasn't already standing got up and moved toward her. I tried to manage the groping as best as I could: "two at a time!" then: "Okay: three at a time!"

Once every man in the room had more then a feel for Ms. Drake, I raised my hands to get their attention. "I have eleven men signed up for our event with the Princess's body. A minimum donation-- umm bid-- is required. Full nudity is also required."

That caused some grumbling and two men backed out which was fine with me. I was only fulfilling Debra's fantasy in which the men drop their black cloaks, come up to her nude, and rub their bodies all over hers.

As I said before, this was no longer any man's fantasy: Ms. Debra was in control.

I had a moment's inspiration and had Debra lean against the stage, butt thrust out. The stage was just the right height for her to rest her pretty head on her folded arms.

I saw the men who had already stripped start to line up. I could tell some were reluctant to be exposing themselves this way but every penis was hard and throbbing and sheathed in a condom.

I announced that they could proceed-- one at a time or two if both agreed. The rules were simply no penetration with any body part, and my strong suggestion was that they should focus their rubbing on and between the sweet cheeks of her ass.

The first gentleman stepped up and was relatively young for a Club member, perhaps late twenties. He was a sort of test case so I watched him closely. He stood behind Ms. Drake and rubbed himself on her butt, her thighs, her legs. Of course he couldn't control his hands being right up against that sweet nude body.

I allowed light stroking of her pussy, and I noticed Debra turn her head so that only I could see. She licked her lips slowly and smiled; she even began to move her lower body in direct response to his touch.

I was lost. I was in big trouble. I had allowed our female guest to take charge of her own fantasy.

One by one the naked men came up: and came. I saw some of them lean in and whisper something into Debra's ear. Each time she responded: moaning, even giggling; one time toward the end the gentleman just stood there and made Debra do all the work: pumping her ass up and down against his throbbing cock.

Finally it was over and she stood up, breathing hard. I checked her body thoroughly to be sure no semen had leaked out onto her. Then I led her back up on stage for the 'bidding.'

It was understood that any bid would be an actual donation to Ms. Debra Drake's special charity. It was also understood that I would outdo any bid: Debra was mine.

I announced that I would now strip her completely so that the gentlemen could see what they were bidding for. I unclipped each key from each breast and threw them into the audience. I whispered "I'm only stripping you in your fantasy" and she nodded. I undid the chain around her waist and threw the whole thing, clit-tapper and all, into the audience. She was totally nude.

The bidding started at 500 "units;" it was the best I could do with the fantasy theme. We actually reached a top bid of 2,500. I paused and then announced I was bidding 3,000. There was some fake booing but, as I looked around, I saw nothing but happy faces. This had been a memorable event, one that would be talked about for years.

I reached behind sweet Debra and undid her cuffs. They were basically 'fake' and easily removed and I let them drop to the stage.

"In your fantasy," I whispered, "you wrap your arms around the warlord and he carries you off."

She smiled. She put her arms around my neck and I lifted her up under her knees. She squeezed me tight as I carried her off to a round of cheers and applause.

She whispered right into my ear: "I know I'm naked, I know this is just a fantasy. You've hypnotized me or something and I can't get out!"

I went cold. I nearly dropped her.

Somehow I made it all the way into the private room that had been prepared for us and shut the door. I laid her down on top of the soft coverlet on the bed. There were pillows and blankets. There was a bed stand with a pitcher of water, two glasses, and even a chilled bottle of champagne.

She incongruously smiled at me, lying back, stretching out her nakedness.

"What do you-- what did you see?" Now I was the one who was breathless.

"I was in what seemed to be a stone castle. Everything was dark and black. All of the men were bald with long black pointed beards. They were all wearing black cloaks. Even now--" she pointed, "that must be a light on the wall, but I see a sconce with a burning torch."

"And... what do I look like?"

She smiled again. "For some reason, you're the only one who hasn't changed: you're still you."

I sighed. "I have to stop this. This has never happened before. You... you aren't supposed to be aware of what's happening. I never... I don't want to hurt you!"

I was sitting on the edge of the bed and started getting up. She pulled on my sleeve.

"Wait! I don't know how you're doing this-- it's when you lower your voice-- I go into a daze! But I don't want this fantasy to end yet! It is so real! You're supposed to... the warlord is supposed to start raping me, then he can't do it. He makes love to me instead."

I plopped down next to her and held her. "You don't know what you're asking! This is so dangerous!"

"Dangerous for who?" She lay back again and casually opened her legs. "How many women have you taken in here?"

"Dozens," I answered. "That's why--"

"I want to be the first woman you make love to in here. The very first."

I stood up and undressed. Who was in control now? She watched me, smiling and biting her lip when she saw how hard I was.

I lay down next to her, lightly stroking and then kissing her body. "What are you doing to me," I breathed.

"Whatever I want," she whispered. "This is my fantasy."

Suddenly I was on top of her, between her legs. There was nowhere else on Earth-- or on any other planet-- where I was supposed to be.

She reached out and took me in hand and guided me in. Her body was so warm and moist and slippery tight. I was trying to maintain control but I was out of control. I suddenly wanted her to cum with me. I tried to slow down but I know that I had never wanted to explode my whole self that much inside of a woman.

"It's alright," she was cooing, "It's alright. Go ahead and cum. You've waited this long." Then she gripped me inside and out-- inside with her pulsating vaginal walls-- outside with her strong legs and thighs wrapped around my back, feet punching my ass.

As I came she pulled me down right on top of her. She started panting, her entire body went stiff and she arched her back. As she came she spoke into my ear: "You're in my fantasy now! Tell me... tell me what you see!!"