On Display

I was pleasantly groggy, that kind of lazy weekend morning where you wake up after having a tad too much to drink. I had no desire to move, but instead enjoyed the odd land between sleep and consciousness. I let my mind wander, letting the events of the night slowly come back to me. I was looking forward to reliving them or at least I thought I was.

It had been about a week ago that I had received an invitation in the mail. It was addressed "To the Special Attention of", which is not how my mail normally comes. With curiosity brimming over, I opened the smallish envelope and took out the card. The card was exquisite: thin letters of gold in old flowing script announced that I, by name, had been invited to attend an art exhibition the following Friday night. There had been more to the card, but the words just wouldn't come to my mind.

I was new in town and didn't know too many people. I had mentioned to a co-worker my interest in art and she said she knew some people who owned a gallery or something. I figured she must have gotten me invited to a showing, quite the pleasant surprise. I liked to go to shows and to try and understand what the artist was thinking as it was created. I liked to try and figure out what it was supposed to make me think and feel. I know that's exactly how you should view art, but I'm an analytical thinker.

Anyway, one of the reasons I had taken the job here was the local art scene, I'd heard such wonderful things about it. In fact, as part of the move I was considering taking up painting as a hobby. I decided to go thinking that perhaps I'd get the little push I needed to start at the show.

The day before I got the card, my friend had left to go on vacation. I figured this was from her and she had forgotten to tell before she left. Work had been crazy the last two weeks. I was thinking I might go insane from lack of a social life. I was just too stressed and tired most days to go out after work. Really though, I was itching to get out and see more of the city and the invitation seemed like fate stepping in. I resolved that I had spent far too many weekends and evenings struggling with work and this Friday would be time for play. Besides, maybe I'd meet a cute artsy girl.

Muffled voices came to my ears, interrupting my reflections and confusing me. I decided it was the TV from my neighbor. It was odd though, I hadn't heard it before. I lived in such a normally quite building. I fleetingly thought of getting up and looking around but that seemed like far, far too much work. I just didn't want to end the enjoyable haze I was in. I wanted to walk through my memories of the night and relive how great I was sure it must have been. Tidbits of exotic foods, champagne, original works of art and intellectual conversation, how could it not have been anything but perfect?

I could remember smiling as I handed the doorman the card, my eyes barely even noticing him. I was looking through the open door, trying to gauge the people inside. My expectations about the fifty or so people inside were a bit off. About 90% percent of them where dressed how you'd expect them to be, nicely dressed, smiling and enjoying themselves. Lots of black clothes, but black with a sense of style, not just typical suits and dresses.

I could see three or four people that totally stood out, I quickly realized that they were the staff of the party. By 'stood out' I mean, bizarrely and over the toply dressed. Each wore a type of fetish outfits. It was definitely going to be a night to remember. I remember smiling and shaking my head, the mix of well dressed viewers and naughtily dressed staff was quite interesting.

In my hazy mind flashes of one server in particular kept popping up. She was a bit shorter than me, probably 5'8 and had flaming fire red hair pulled into two pigtails. Her shoes were at least 4-inch high stiletto heels. Her long supple legs were covered in fishnets to mid thigh, seams perfectly straight. Four tiny clips connected them to her black lace corset. The small expanse of exposed white thigh was hypnotic to watch as she walked. I wasn't sure if corset was more like body suit or if she had on separate panties, but I sure tried to tell with out being too obvious. Her shoulders and arms are bare. Her eyes were bright green, setting off her hair perfectly. She wore a lace choker on her neck that just made me want to trace its edges with my tongue for hours. Her finger nails matched her hair, 'fuck me red' polish as a friend of mine would say. The corset laced up the tightly up back. Her full breasts were wickedly smushed as only a corset can do. The rounded tops of bulging white flesh made it hard to concentrate on anything else. They seemed to beg to be freed, jiggling with each step she took. At the very least, if I went home alone, I knew what I'd be doing and to whose image. She truly was the vision of an angel to me.

Another girl wore a dog collar and was dressed in skintight latex, leaving nothing to the imagination. A chain leash hung off her collar, hanging to just an inch of the floor. It bounced and danced behind her as she walked about. There was a well-built, pure muscle guy wearing nothing but skimpy form fitting leather shorts that tied up the sides. He had a leather collar on with two chains that connected to bracelets on each wrist. Matching bracelets were on his ankles. There were a few others, but I couldn't quite remember them. It was the corset girl I remembered most.

Each one carried trays of food and drinks around endlessly. The odd thing was no one really seemed to outright notice them. Sure they were the 'staff', but each one was an exotic physical specimen. I would have thought that they'd compete quite nicely with the art, but they were almost totally ignored. None of them said a word. They would smile politely as you took something or placed something on a tray. Quick, quiet and efficiently they seemed to glide gracefully around the gallery, always on hand needed and never intrusive.

Again I heard noises like voices and realized that there was a buzz along with the voices. I could hear snippets of words like "almost time", "good choice" and "everything ready". I could feel myself leaving the semi-sleep I was in. A strange feeling that something wasn't quite right began to grow in my belly. The buzz sounded an awful lot like the murmurs of many people in soft conversation. I became aware of a dull ache in both my shoulders and jaw and most of all behind my eyes. I tried to remember what happened after I had entered the gallery, but only these odd flashes would come to me.

I could see the sharply dressed men and stunning women smiling and talking. Bits of artwork, mostly paintings came to me. Odd paintings, everything seemed to have either an erotic theme with an eerie surreal twist to them. Paintings of lush gardens with nymphs, but the nymphs weren't running free. They were stuck, bound in erotic positions. They were well done, but not at all what I expected. A flash of something even odder came next.

In the center of the gallery was a round platform, it was about five feet around and three feet off the ground, a mini stage of sorts. Around the edge of the platform were a series of small metal eyeholes. Hanging from the ceiling above the platform was a largish metal O ring. I could remember wondering what on earth it was for. An image of a striking woman smiling at me saying, "It's for an unveiling later. I hope you'll hang around for it," then some laughing and I was handed another drink. I think it was my third and should have been my limit for the night.

An image of the corset girl bending over at the waist in front of me to pick up something off the floor flashed in my mind. She turned to me and winked, making me think she had done it just for me. Her rump was a teasingly stunning image, just ever other memory I had of her. No one else seemed interested in the servers and that was fine with me. Her seeming to flirt with me had me thinking I was some hunter stalking some poor defenseless prey. Or, perhaps, she was hunting me, either way was find with me. Every time I caught her eye she'd wink or smile. The affect remembering these images, my erotic mental slide show, was having on me now was predictable. Without a doubt I had a classic case of 'morning wood'.

My reverie about the teasing corset angel was interrupted by more words, clearer this time, as I was becoming more awake. Someone asked how much longer and the reply was ten minutes. From the murmurs I heard laughing. My belly began to feel down right nauseous. I realized that I wasn't sleepy at all, but groggy, like cough syrup drugged groggy. It was like I was coming out of some kind of unnatural daze, slowly regaining my facilities. It came to me that my arms were stretched over my head and I couldn't pull them down. My wrists seemed to be tied to something. My fingers could feel smooth, cold, curved metal. Another even more unsettling revelation was that my mouth was open and I couldn't shut it. There was something wedged in my mouth. My tongue could feel that it was smooth and round. It would squeeze ever so slightly when I clenched my jaws, but nothing would dislodge it.

Something that was just short of terror started to overcome me. It had to be a throwback to man's ancient flight/fight instinct. I yanked arms down hard, kicked my legs and generally tried in vain to flail about and free myself. My legs wouldn't move any more than my arms. Both were either tied or otherwise held apart. I opened my eyes and saw nothing, total darkness. My situation fully struck me. I was blindfolded, my hands tied over my head, some kind of gag was in my mouth and legs were tied about four feet apart. Most disturbing, as far I could tell, I was totally naked.

Someone laughed as I struggled and I clearly heard, "Perfect timing, he's awake." I tried to yell and scream, but the gag did its job well. Nothing was more than a muffled noise. The conversation buzz died down. I was getting near down right terrified. I flailed and flopped like a fish out of water. I didn't care that I was naked and erect, I wanted out. I wanted free.

There came a whisper from someone right behind me, "Shhhh, easy darling. Do you remember me? I hope so. You were drooling over me all night. Take it easy, no one is going to hurt you. I promise. You're just going to ahh...." Her voice trailed off, it had to be corset girl. I wanted to plead with her. I'd do anything if she freed me, but I couldn't say a word, just grunts. She giggled a bit, "You're just going to be a sort of live exhibition. And quite an exhibition you are darling. Very fit. I like men who take care of themselves and mmmm, I see Mother Nature blessed you very nicely. You see, right now darling, you're behind a curtain, just you and me. In about five minutes, up goes the curtain."

My breathing was quick, panting-like through my nose. I struggled to get the gag out to beg her to free me, but it was strapped tight to my head and firmly in my mouth. I tried to rub my head against my arms to dislodge the blindfold, thinking that if she could at least see the pleading in my eyes she'd do something to help me. I was desperate. As she talked, I realized it was futile; she was part of whatever freak show had gotten a hold me.

An image from what must have been one of the paintings came to me, it was a girl tired up very similar how I must look, but she was in a stunning garden with other nymph-like girls dancing around her. The more she whispered and giggled softly in my ear the less I struggled. I tried to get a grasp on what the hell was happening.

I nearly had a heart attack when I felt her fingers on my sides. Up and down my sides they went, nearly tickling me, but not quite. My body flinched at the touch. I tried to squirm away, but I couldn't move very far at all. I could feel her arms as they reached around me, her nails crisscrossing over my bare belly. Her lips were next to my ear and she started to talk in this soft sultry voice. She started to tell me all the things she would love for me to do to her, things she has been thinking of while I had watched her work. Her fingers found my nipples and pinched them, twisted them. She told me she had bent over just for me, hoping I liked the view. She asked if I had seen that her panties were wet when she did it.

I loved the nails, her words and the pinching. I could feel her breasts against my back; I swear she was naked or at least topless. I groaned, no longer wanting to talk, but enjoying her teasing. I've never felt so conflicted. It's amazing what being super sexually stimulated will do. It probably didn't last more than a minute or two, but it seemed like an hour. The entire time I'd been awakening my cock had been hard. Now it ached and throbbed. I wanted more than anything for her to touch me. I would have done anything she wanted if she promised to make me cum. I moaned as I wiggled my hips fruitlessly trying to get her to pay some attention down there.

As quick as her fingers had touched me, they left. My nipples were rock-hard and stinging. My skin was covered with goose bumps. Her breath was hot in my ear as she said her parting words to me, her tone a mix of teasing amusement and sex.

"Mmm, darling you look so hot. I wish you could see me, I'm naked. It's a shame you can't. But, before I go four things. One, you are indeed totally naked, but for the restraints. Two, that lovely hard cock of yours is shaved bare. Oh, I do love how it bounces and twitches by the way and so will the crowd, be a dear and try not to keep too still? Three, on special nights like this the gallery doesn't allow cameras. And four, don't worry about stage fright, you've had a nice healthy dose of Viagra."

She was gone. I was alone. My heart raced, pounding fast in my chest. I've never felt such a mix of fear, anxiety, and, I have to admit it, excitement. What was I supposed to feel? Her talking and touching had added to the hormones already rampant in my system remembering her working. I was most aware of my cock. I could feel my pulse as it throbbed. I wondered what I looked like shaved. I wondered what the people who were going to see me would do and think. Was this going to be some kind of sex show? Was I just going to hang here or be teased and tormented? Just what kind of exhibition was this?

I started to rationalize that this was all some freaky dream I was having inspired by the artwork, seeing her and too much too drink. I argued with myself, why not go with it? Why not enjoy it? After all, I couldn't see anyone, wouldn't know who was seeing me. It all could be an erotic, twisted dream I'd relate to my friends in a few weeks while drinking beer some dive bar.

It wasn't working. My jaws and shoulders ached. Not painfully so, but as the pleasant teasing sensations her fingers and words faded I had to face the facts. I didn't think that there was any way I'd find enjoyment in this, hard cock or not. In the end, I decided to make the best of it. How long could I be here? Sooner or late I'd be free and I'd never ever come anywhere near this place again. I could make it all become a dream in my mind, eventually.

She promised me no one would hurt; I had to trust in that. I had nothing else to cling to. Her leaving could only mean the curtain was about to go up any second. I had to be on that three-foot high platform in the center of the room. My arms tied to the ring overhead and legs spread wide, tied to the eyeholes on the base. People could stand and walk all around me, just like a statue. I also realized that this would put my quivering cock at about eye level with my audience. A fresh wave of goose bumps went over me.

A deep male voice announced, "Ladies and gentlemen. I want to thank you for coming here tonight. We truly are blessed to have such a wonderful community of artist. Artists who like to push the limit of what's acceptable, but it wouldn't be possible without your support. Now for what you've all been waiting so patiently for..."

His voice went on, but I couldn't listen to him. My mind was racing. Up to now I'd just assumed what was going to happen. This unknown voice was making it into a fact. Again I yelled and struggled against my bonds. It was futile, doing nothing more than causing a soft rustling noise, making my heart hammer harder inside my heaving chest and causing a certain blood engorged part of anatomy to dance.

Helpless, tied nearly spread eagle with very part of my naked body open to view, shaved smooth and with an erection that wouldn't go down for hours...I was about to go on display.