Daphne

(7) Terri

A man stepped down from between the spread legs and handed a cordless drill to a woman who was next in line. The drill had a six-inch-long rod to which a three-inch diameter ball with firm, wavy ridges was affixed. The ridges were arranged longitudinally and looked like squeegees. She pressed the ball between the crotch's open lips and pulled the trigger. The female form twitched and its breasts jiggled delightfully. The onlookers were amused; they laughed and made lewd comments.

About an hour earlier, Daphne had been the helpless anonymous female strapped to that table; she imagined herself there still, imagined being carelessly squeegeed, and started to feel like... like... Oh, God!... like she was going to need another shower and a change of underwear!

Arriving at the buffet, Leo jettisoned his guest and retreated into the shadows. There were eight to ten guests milling about the area, rapidly switching their attention from the exhibition to the food and back. Several looked directly at Daphne, and she froze in fear.

"Hi," one man said, flashing a polite smile. His attention returned to the food, then back at the show.

"Hi," said Daphne, petrified.

He looked at her again and approached. He recognizes me! Ice shot up her spine. Oh, God! He knows! She felt sick.

"Excuse me." He brushed past her, rushing to a table. He never looked back.

Shaking, and barely able to control a set of tongs, she somehow managed to load a tortilla roll and some fruit on a plate.

"Don't be so nervous, Dear!" A woman stood next to her. She wore a shimmering ruby-red satin dress that accented cleavage so plump that the overflowing twins seemed poised to escape, while a provocative slit revealed a bare left leg from her ankle almost to her hip. "This is your first time here, isn't it?" Daphne gulped and nodded. "I thought so. Let me take you under my wing." She commandeered a plate. "Come over to my table and we'll watch and gossip and get wet together!" she giggled as she piled tortilla rolls over the sliced cold-cuts and cheese already on her plate.

Daphne was already wet. "Ummm," she stammered.

"Oh, I'm sorry – are you with someone?"

Daphne looked at Leo, who smiled, waved a good-natured goodbye, and disappeared altogether. "Ummm... No... I guess not... OK, I'll join you."

"Great! I love company. I'm Terri, by the way," she said, grabbing a couple bottles of water from the ice-chest. "Follow me."

"I'm Daphne." She followed Terri to her table.

The two were so close to the edge of the stage that they could rest their elbows on it. There was little that they could not see and Daphne felt a little uncomfortable. The nudity, the public masturbation, the thick smell of sex in the air... She'd fantasized about this, but reality was somehow different. She looked at her new friend; Terri wore a gleeful smile and happy eyes. She watched eagerly as a long line of random people compelled the naked female to perform for them.

"Look at that!" Terri exclaimed, "I think I can see that vagina's cervix!" She paused and looked at Daphne. "After tonight that one's not going to be happy for a very long time, I'm afraid."

"Why not?"

"Oh, that's right, you got here late. You missed it. That vagina shot its mouth off to the M.C. – apparently it's been a bad vagina for a long time. Anyway, it lost a bet and now it's payback time. It owes Leo big-time!"

"Why are do you keep calling her a vagina? Isn't that demeaning?"

Terri laughed. "Wow, this really is your first time here, isn't it?" She looked at Daphne and in an instant her mood visibly changed. She looked more serious. "OK, look. Most of the girls who come here and model Leo's wares cover their faces to protect their identities. That way nobody knows that they volunteered to be tied-up and used sexually in public, or – what's even worse – that they enjoy it and come back for more, again and again," she explained. "What they haven't figured out is that if you don't have an identity, then you're not a person; you're just meat. And nobody cares about meat's feelings. Not really. Look at that..." Daphne looked into the quivering open hole. "Be honest. Do you really care whether that feels pleasure or pain? You would if it was a person, but it's not..." Terri continued, "...it's just a drooling hole in a slab of meat. It's just a vagina."

Daphne thought for an instant that perhaps she too could see deep into the vagina's hole. All the way to its cervix. She realized that she didn't specifically want it to be hurt, but, in truth, she didn't really care one way or the other what happened to that vagina. Daphne couldn't believe how quickly her attitude changed. Five minutes ago she'd thought of that woman strapped to the inclined table as a person. In just a few minutes, Daphne realized, the one person in the entire room that should empathize with her the most had already objectified 'the vagina' and didn't care what happened to it.

"You should have seen the one that was here almost an hour ago. Leo found a nice fresh one and in no time it was very, very happy."

Daphne gulped nervously. "Really?"

"Delirious. By the end it was speaking in tongues. I'm honestly surprised that it managed to move its legs – much less walk off the stage – without collapsing!" Terri giggled. "I could have traded places with that one – almost – but I bought two of those machines instead, so I won't have to come here, strip myself naked in front of these losers and reduce myself to being their helpless vagina plaything..."

The ridges on the spinning ball stroked the bright pink clitoris. Then the ball pulled away.

Terri added, "...like that one..."

The little clit searched for its friendly ball, in vain.

Eventually the joyous ball returned and started stroking it again! "Does this little clit want to cum? Does this little clit want to cum?" asked the woman playing with the helpless vagina.

"...praying that someone will let it cum so the next loser can drive it back into frustration..." Terri turned to Daphne. Her familiar smile crossed her lips again as before, and she looked excited as she grabbed both of Daphne's hands. "You've got to come back tomorrow – they're going to do stuff to that vagina you'd never imagine and you'll probably never see again! It's gonna be incredible!"

"What do you mean?"

"Leo doesn't torture his models, not really. I mean, some of the stuff that happens here is painful... well, really painful... but it's not exactly torture. I can't explain it... It's like you're demonstrating a device, or whatever, and it's supposed to hurt, so the model feels pain, but it's, for lack of a better way of saying it, a side-effect of the demonstration, rather than the point of it."

Daphne looked at her new friend.

Terri continued, "That vagina made a big mistake. It's not going to be happy for a long, long time. And it'll be especially unhappy tomorrow, and everything that happens will be intentional..."