My one hundredth Lit submission; maybe time to retire, it's certainly the end of the Mind Fuck series.
Thanks for reading.
'Come to CC at 6 and as usual don't wear much, but wear a dress. You'll be staying the night so a change of clothes is needed?'
I wore a fashionable full length dress. It had a scooped front and short sleeves. It was tight round my bust and waist, but the skirt was slightly flared and flapped round my ankles. It was made from a deep yellow material and had a few buttons from the neckline to the waist, I left one of those undone and didn't wear any underwear, although I had a couple of pairs of panties and a bra together with my toiletries in my overnight bag.
"Very nice, put this on," Guy said after I arrived at his rooms just after six in the evening. It was very warm with hardly a breeze. He was wearing a pair of dark blue linen trousers, brown boat shoes without socks and a short sleeved, white shirt. He had three buttons undone showing some curls of hairs through the gap between the open sides of the shirt, he looked good and pretty cool. However, I did see a touch of grey in the hairs, something I hadn't noticed before. He handed me a scholar's gown. That was made from a light wool material with a heavily pleated back; it was white. It wrapped round my shoulder, had elbow length sleeves and came to mid way between my knees and ankles. It had no fasteners down the front and as I walked to the mirror to check my appearance, it flapped round me.
"What's this for?"
"We're going to Queen's for a special dinner and we have to wear our gowns," he told me slipping into his which was similar to mine but was made from silk and had a magenta, almost purple, slash round the collar and down the front, which I recalled signified that he was a professor.
It wasn't much of a walk along Trumpington and across the bridge on Silver Street, but I did feel strange being naked under my dress. We got to Queen's, went through a courtyard into the main building and through a large oak door that was open. He followed me up a flight of narrow stairs, stroking my bum that was swaying inches from his face, and led me down a corridor into a modest sized, about twenty feet square, room furnished in a similar faded elegance style of his rooms at Corpus. It was set up as a dining room with an oblong table, which had two chairs on two sides and one at each end. There was a long oak sideboard on which there were several bottles of wine and array of glasses.
"You can take the dress off now," he said in the matter fact way he had of saying even the most sexually outrageous of things. Seeing that I was naked under the dress he smiled. "That's good Mandy you learn quickly and I like that. Now put your gown back on and stay right there."
He sat down on the chair at the head of the table and rang a hand bell that had been left on it.
Assuming that was to encourage someone to enter the room, presumably to serve dinner I pulled the gown tightly round me. I was amazed when the door opened and men started entering. They were all wearing black, silk, scholar's robes similar to Guy's, but only one had the magenta trimmings.
Silently they filed in and sat at the other five seats round the table. I was left standing there. I felt awkward and left out. They nodded to Guy and began chatting largely about university matters and the World Cup in South Africa. None of them Guy included paid any attention to me. It was quite strange.
"Oh by the way chaps," Guy suddenly said "This is my slut who I have told you about."
The words crashed into me. He was being so cruel was my immediate thought. Then they all turned and looked at me and that made me feel embarrassed. They just gazed at me, they didn't speak or smile, but simply stared at me as I stood there naked apart from the robe that I was holding tightly round me. They won't know I'm naked I thought for they can only really see my legs and my upper chest.
"Amanda," Guy said quite sharply "Let go of the fucking robe will you, they want to see your tits."
I stared at him, pleading with my eyes, but as he held me in the cold, blue eyed gaze that always did things to me, I knew my pleading would get me nowhere. I felt frozen and as if I was paralysed. I couldn't move, but I knew I had to. I could only do as he said, for there was no alternative other than making a run for it and then walk through Cambridge just in the gown. I looked from Guy to the other men. Their ages ranged from a likely late twenties or early thirties up to possible early fifties, maybe late forties. They were all rather grim faced, but not unattractive.
"We're waiting Amanda," Guy said lighting one of his big Davidoff cigars, but staring right at me through the cloud of blue smoke.
That was it, I knew I'd had it now and that there was no alternative. I realised that I was going to have to expose myself to all of them and my mind could only touch lightly on the surface of what else I might have to do. I gave Guy one more pleading stare, but after holding my gaze for a few seconds he turned away, looked at the guy on his left and said.
"It'll be worth waiting for, she really has got splendid tits."
That did it. He was starting to humiliate and abuse me, degrade and demean me. They were all looking at me, waiting and expectant. I looked from face to face and saw differing expressions; lust, desire, arrogance and keenness. Some had smiles and some had leers on their faces, all looked expectant and interested. Everything was getting to me and I was starting to move into the zone, assume the role and playing the part. The part of a slut. I was beginning to tingle and it suddenly hit me that I was no longer embarrassed or too concerned at them looking at me, in fact the thought of exposing my body to them was starting to be a turn on. I was getting warm, there was a heat in my stomach, an irritation in my nipples and my breasts had that familiar feeling of fullness denoting my imminent arousal. My adrenalin was in free fall making feel similar to how I always did before delivering an important presentation to a prospective client and how I imagined actors feel before going on stage. Momentarily I wondered how and actress would feel if she was doing a nude scene in front of a few hundred people.
I looked from Guy to the other men, took a step forward and let go of the edges of the gown. It fell straight down my body the lapels traversing my boobs and getting caught on my nipples. I saw the men's interest increase and it was as if they all leaned further forward.
"Pull it open Mandy, let them see them."
I did as he told me and stood there in front of five strangers and my 'boyfriend.' I was as good as naked with my bare breasts and pussy that I had shaved at Guy's command, on show to them all. There was a murmur of approval round the table and that made me feel as if I was on the stage of the Albert Hall taking applause. Their eyes seemed to bore into me and I was very aware that my nipples hardened and I was sure I started excreting my womanly sexual juices.
"See what everyone wants to drink Mandy. It's on the credenza over there," Guy said. I glanced at where he was looking and saw several bottles and a selection of glasses. "And then you can serve us all."
I was mortified. It was thing standing there and posing for them, after all I had posed for my ex and for a boy friend as they took revealing photos of me, so I had some experience, but serving at a table almost nude was something else indeed.
They started calling out their orders.
"Hold on," Guy chipped in "Remember this is mean old Queens, we only have Claret, albeit Chateau Talbot 96, Port, Champagne and some Chassagne Montrachet for you more effete chappies, no spirits I'm afraid."
I walked over to the credenza turning my back to the men, but very aware of their eyes on me as I walked. Did I accentuate my wiggle, I wondered?
