‘I have some lovely new toys to demonstrate today, and I hope my lucky winners will be able to help me with the show,’ she says, smiling. She lays a large case out on a low table between me and the audience and opens it up. ‘Take a good look at what is inside,’ she invites. ‘Choose your favourites and then, when we are ready, you can try them out on Sophie here. Please don’t be shy to do whatever you wish to her. I am paying Sophie to do as she is told, and she will get to choose and keep her own favourites after the show. For the next hour, no part of Sophie is off-limits – you may use her tits, her pussy, her arse, exactly as you please.’ They look sidelong at me, curious and ravenous at once. Furiously flushed, I stare down at the lacy tops of my stockings, drinking in the shame and transfiguring it to a strong gush of need between my thighs. ‘But of course,’ Lura finishes, wagging a bony finger, ‘you may only use the products. No flesh is to meet flesh, please. This is a high-class establishment, not a brothel, and Sophie is here to demonstrate, not to service you.’
‘Not yet,’ mutters Neil and I aim a killer glare at him. He winks back at me, then the group bow their heads over the suitcase, picking things up and inspecting them, sometimes looking over at me as if speculating on the effect they might have on me.
I see long columns of smooth metal, precious mineral rings, acres of discreetly hued silicone, pots and bottles and horsehair and silk.
‘Has everybody chosen?’ asks Lura. ‘Who would like to begin?’
The female model steps forward, holding up a glass vial. ‘I’d like to try some of this on her,’ she says. ‘I’ve heard good things about it.’
‘Be my guest.’ Lura nods and the model smiles widely at me, opens her vial and dabs the stopper on my temples, then she peels off the sparkling pastes and treats my nipples. There is a moment of sting and a dizzying aphrodisiac aroma once my skin absorbs the contents. I take a deep breath, noticing how my nipples are an even darker red now, throbbing lightly and begging to be touched.
‘How does that feel, Sophie?’ asks the model.
‘It’s…heightening my senses…and it smells gorgeous,’ I say, gasping as she grabs hold of a calf, hoiks it over the velvet arm of the chair and then glides the stopper along my labia majora, once, twice, three times, until the potency and intensity of it have caused my clit to expand and emerge from its hood. I see all eyes upon it, eyebrows raised, chins stroked. I think some sales may have been made, but I am too unfocused and needful of more touch to think of much else. I wriggle my bare bottom against the plushy pile and bring my hands up to my nipples, which seem to explode into spangles, oh, god, it’s almost enough to make me come already. How long have I been here? Five minutes? I signed up for an hour.
‘Sophie,’ says Lura sternly. ‘Hands off your nipples. I’m not paying you to touch yourself.’ I moan and grip the arms of the chair, gazing longingly at some of the dildoes and vibrators the men have chosen. One of those is just what I need now. But Lura is busy hyping up her new concoction. ‘Imagine the possibilities. A few dabs on your lover’s skin and he or she is helplessly aroused, beyond reason. You can use it during normal sex, as a stimulant, or those with wickeder imaginations can devise schemes for pleasurable torment. Leave them tied up and burning for you. Make them wear it in a public place, underneath their clothes. And I’m led to understand that it can add a whole new dimension to a spanking. I will leave your admirably filthy minds to come up with your own scenarios.’
If you would like to win a copy of the book, all you need to do is drop me a comment. I'll put all the names into a hat, and on Friday I will draw two winners! Good luck!