Model Behaviour

8.

She watched as Mr Sato walked away from the camera and then off the stage, Jean walking behind. She couldn't believe her eyes. They were leaving her like this. She struggled, pulling against the cuffs to no avail, she was stretched out tight and couldn't even rattle the cuffs anymore. Her heart sunk as she started to try and picture the scenarios in which they would leave her like this. She came to the conclusion that this was all a prank and that she was the punch line in some joke that rich people played to mock people like her. She started to cry as the people all stood up and walked over to Mr Sato, talking with him cheerfully.

Two of the waiters came over and she tried to make pleading sounds with them but was only ignored. She realised it was useless as they started to methodically alter something on the sides of the frame. She felt the whole thing lift, send a jolt through her stomach. Then before she realised what was happening the thing started to move. It was on wheels and she was being moved from the stage into the room.

She looked nervously around at all the people watching her with smiles on their faces that only unnerved her more. Tears had stopped flowing from her eyes as she was now too frightened to cry. She was wheeled into the centre of the room to the sound of polite applause. On a table beside her she saw a stack of magazines that were being picked up by the guests. On the cover she saw a picture of herself, naked. Her eyes widened as she realised it was a photo from earlier that same day, when she'd been left in the dressing room. When Jean had been called out, there had to have been cameras watching her and whist she had admired herself in the mirror they had stolen pictures of her.

The people moved away from her slightly and talked amongst themselves as she was for the most part ignored. After a while Mr Sato stood back on the stage where the photographs had been taken.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have all had chance to peruse the magazine. As you can see we provide a variety of extras that you can purchase on top of the fee of the original auctioned lot. We have given you a variety of ideas about how you can use the items available although you are free to come up with your own. So long as you don't break the rules of the selected lot. You can request items not shown, though nothing can be promised, we will do our best to accommodate your desires."

Clare was left completely ignorant of what it was that they were talking about, though she didn't feel good about it. Without seeing the magazine she had no idea what it was they were talking about exactly. But she had her suspicions...

They started to organise the auction, referring to each item by only lot numbers. She was astounded by how much money they were paying. What on earth were they buying? Each lot only attracted larger values. This really was another world she was in. What was going to happen to her here and what did she have to do with this? She couldn't help but feel like cattle at a cattle market.

As the auctioned ended Jean walked up to her. She tried to plead with her but was ignored. Instead Jean knelt down in front of her and pulled out what looked like a small hook. Clare realised what it was as she started using it to remove the stitches that held the bodice to the bottom half of her dress. Her eyes widened as she made more murmuring sounds of protest. Jean continued to ignore her and work at removing the stitches. Removing those down the side of the dress to the top of the slit at her thigh, she was able to pull away the bottom half of the dress. Clare whimpered as the dress was pulled away to reveal her lower half, she stood now in just the bodice and the small white thong. She clenched her eyes shut; she could hear the crowd making small sounds of approval at the removal of her dress. She was sure that the way she stood, with such a small piece of cloth coving her folds it must be indecent.

Feeling Jean undoing her bodice, Clare opened her eyes and tried to scream but just ended up coughing on the gag and making little ruckus. As she removed her bodice she left her breasts just covered by the strapless bra. Though that didn't last long, as her hands quickly came back to remove that too, she felt her breasts freed with a small bounce. Clare held her eyes tightly closed and tried to imagine being somewhere else as she was left in just the small white thong, her breasts, ass, legs, all completely bare to the crowd of people around her.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

Mr Sato addressed the room again.

"As you all know, the ticket for this event tonight will be used for the lottery, hence the price of the dinner... Not that the food wasn't divine."

He nodded to someone at the back of the room and the crowd applauded politely to what was apparently the chef.

"We will announce the winner after dessert."

The waiters came back with trays of pudding. A small part of Clare, that wasn't petrified of what was happening, regretted missing the chance to try the chocolate cake.

9.

As they ate, two serving staff came back over to Clare. The same two from before, they ignored her as the inserted a horizontal bar in front of her. It fixed to the frame and pressed against her hips. Afterwards they went to either side of the frame and pulled a lever. As they did, she felt her arms moving forward. The frame itself was hinged, to bend in half. It lent forward, pulling her with it. She realised then that the bar they had attached prevented her just from falling to her knees. Holding her hips back, as she was forced to lean over it, bending at the waist to a 90 degree angle. She knew that the way she was forced to bend would be lifting her rear up into the air, the small strip of fabric between her legs barely covering her pink folds.

Jean came back out. She held a pair of scissors and before Clare could become scared by this fact she used them to cut the thong at each hip. The small strip of fabric that had become her only modesty slipped from Clare to the floor. She shuddered at the thought of the sight of her from behind. Then she shuddered a second time at the feel of Jeans fingers between the lips of her pussy. She made a sound of protest, though it was pointless. Jean began to play with her pussy. She stroked it gently at first. Running her fingers slowly up and down between the folds, then stopped to play with her clit, making small circular motions. Knowing just where to touch and how hard, she quickly brought Clare's juices to flow even against her will.

Jean must have gone to her knees because she felt her mouth pressed up between her legs, kissing passionately, where her fingers had been deft, her tongue was doubly so. Clare shot a quick look around and realised she was being watched by more than a few people, smiling intently as they watched the performance. This was humiliating. She felt Jean slide her fingers inside her and begin working them in beckoning motions, making her that much wetter. Oh god, if she kept this up, even resisting, Clare wasn't sure she could stop herself from climaxing. Bringing her up to the edge of cumming, Jean she suddenly stopped.

A primal part of Clare whimpered begging for more, though her own conscious brain put the whimper down to fear, unable to accept the part of herself that was enjoying the feeling of this woman's tongue. She couldn't quite turn to see her but she heard her opening something. Then she felt something cold on her hot pink lips, she called out a little, as much as she could. Feeling the cold cream or gel being applied to her, being worked inside her she started to worry, what was this, what was she doing? Jean moved away, wiping her hand on a towel and left Clare there in the middle of the room, she was sure her cheeks were flushed beetroot red right now, as she stood, bend at the waist, legs spread, ass up, pussy dripping wet.

Then she felt it. A strange, itching, somewhat uncomfortable feeling in her pussy. She put it down to what Jean had done to her at first, taking her to the edge of orgasm and then stopping. But soon she realised it was more than that. More than a natural desire to cum, her pussy begged to be touched, the itch crying out to be sated, to have anything rub against it. What was in the cream? She bit against the gag and thrashed against the bonds. Mr Sato spoke up again.

"It looks like our guest is eager for the lottery to be drawn."

10.

Clare could hardly pay attention as she struggled, rocking her hips back and forward subconsciously, the cream had done its work. It left a strange tingly feeling through her pussy, it made it feel like it was being softly stimulated whilst at the same time an irresistible urge to itch was building up inside her. Coupled with what Jean had done to her it was almost unbearable. To Clare, it felt like she needed something inside her, no matter what her rational mind was telling her.

The man who had won the lottery came up to her now, smiling, it looked like the grin of a feral dog and for a moment Clare forgot the feeling inside her, forgot the fear of being tied up and just felt fear for that smile. She froze, like a rabbit caught in headlights as he reached out and grabbed her breast. She had spoken to him earlier in the day and had thought that he had eyed her rather predatorily, but then she was supposed to be the new model at the time and had tried to tell herself the look was nothing more than an assessment. Now she knew otherwise.

"Hmm. I'm going to enjoy this. I'm sure you will too."

He walked behind her and she felt him lean against her as he reached around to fondle her breast as she closed her eyes tightly, struggling fiercely. He was probably old enough to be her father, hair starting to go white on the sides, he wasn't disgusting to look at, but he did scare her.

The feeling that continued to rage inside her sensitive folds stole the focus of her thoughts again. She felt something press against her lips and she felt sudden relief. It moved away and she panicked, needing to feel it again she pressed her hips back. She heard a laugh.

"That desperate for me are you?"

She realised he'd moved behind her and craning her neck she could see his pants down around his ankles. Before it registered she felt something slide between her soaked folds and into her tight hole. She moaned, half in panic and half in relief as he penetrated her, she was disgusted at the latter part of that. Her shame grew more so as the thrusting started and she realised her body was enjoying this. She tried to struggle to no avail as the man started to thrust in and out of her. She had been with a few guys in her life, she wasn't a virgin, but at the same time she wasn't a slut.

He thrust in and out of her roughly and rhythmically. This wasn't about her enjoying this, it was about him taking his pleasure, but still, what Jean had done and what the cream was doing made her pleasure unavoidable. She tried to tell herself she wasn't a slut again moments before she felt herself finally cum, her eyes widening as her pussy tensed around his cock and a moan wrapped around the gag. He thrust once more, deeper and she felt him unleash his load inside her, making a groaning sound as he did.

"Hmm, a tight little whore aren't you?"

He said, as he pulled his cock from inside her, she felt him wipe it against her leg and she sobbed. She had been taken, without consent. And yet... she felt a small sense of desire inside her for more. She pushed it down, refusing to accept that any part of her wanted this. Then she felt a soft hand against her rear. She tried to turn to struggle to see what was happening again. Then she heard the silky voice of a woman.

"My husband sure did enjoy that pretty little cunt of yours didn't he?"

She said, with slight scorn in her voice. Clare remembered the elegant looking woman who had stood beside the predator. If he had been a lion then she in her own right would have been a lioness. She had looked at Clare with the same fierce eyes, piercing through her clothes she had remembered wondering about that at the time but had been too caught up in the event. Clare called out as she felt her nipple being pinched roughly.

"I wonder if it is your fat tits that he likes."

She slapped her hand hard against Clare's rear getting another small cry from her.

"Or your fat ass perhaps."

Walking back around in front of Clare, the woman was holding something in her hand. Clare's eyes widened. It was one of the sex toys she had posed with earlier, one she hadn't made a particular note of.

"You know where this will go?"

She held up a string of beads. Each bead slight larger than the last until the one connected to the ring she held was about as large as a golf ball. Clare gave her a worried look, but she just gave her the same unnerving grin. Jean came over, wearing latex gloves and holding a small tub. The woman passed her the beads and took a glass from a waiter. She stood watching her as she drank from the wine glass.

Clare felt something cold on her tight virgin hole. She shuddered a little. The first small bead slid in with ease. She did her best to relax as each bead followed, though as each one increased in size, adding to what was inside her, she couldn't help but moan with each insertion. The woman continued to watch her, grinning.

"Last one, think you can handle it dear?"

Clare whimpered and clenched her eyes shut, relaxing the best she could as the final, uncomfortably large bead was pushed inside her. Jean moved away as the woman walked back behind her.

"How does it feel? Hmm?"

She slid her finders into Clare's pussy. She felt the stretch her hole, sure she'd just forced at least three inside her, she bit down on the gag as she felt her pushing up against the beads inside her ass. She took hold of the ring and tugged causing Clare to whimper some more. Laughing she tugged a little harder.

"You like that? Think I should just rip them all out like starting a lawn mower?"

Clare shook her head wildly, shuddering at the idea of such a thing. She felt the woman's hand moving inside her pussy as the bead was finally pulled more firmly, slipping it out and causing Clare to call out even though it choked her a little to do so. The woman laughed. She pulled each bead out roughly, enjoying the torment it caused Clare. Finally she wiped her hand on Clare's rear.

"I'll see you again shortly you little whore."

Clare whimpered at the foretelling. 'Oh, she wasn't going to get out of here was she?' She realised. Fear flooding through her as two servers started to wheel her back out through the crowd of people who had moved to her rear to watch her torment from there. She kept her eyes to the ground, too ashamed to look at anyone as they wheeled her out like the left overs of the final course.