Katy's Body Pt. 21

By the time of our arrival in Manila were both tired from the journey. It was a dull first evening - hotel check-in, meal and an early night. I was expecting a lot from my body the next evening and wanted it to be in its best shape for exhibition and abuse, despite my impatience to begin.

Finally the big evening came and my husband and I turned up at the bar about two hours before opening. Initially we took a few drinks with Billy and his business partner. My husband ordered me to remove my clothes and stand naked in the front of the two men with my legs apart.

"This magnificent body is now your property to use as you please for the entertainment of your customers. No restrictions on use."

I smiled and stood there expecting a hands-on inspection. None came but I was asked what I would like to drink. We sat for some time, sipping drinks and chatting. It was another surreal occasion - sat naked and deeply impatient for my nude flesh to be abused - whilst engaged in small talkNaughty exhibitionist that I am I had packed a see through dress to take to the Philippines. At the start of the evening I stood near the entrance and greeted the customers as they came in, my naked body clearly visible through the dress. I would do a slow twirl so that could admire my body from all angles. My strong exhibitionist streak meant that the many eyes feasting on my body left me highly aroused. I was even more excited by the prospects of the evening to come.

A number of customers had something of the look of a hungry tiger about to devour its prey. I could only try to imagine in a general what they would like to do to my body. Whatever they fantasised It truly would be my pleasure to try to make it come true

"Welcome. I am your hostess. I will soon be fully naked in order to provide your evening's entertainment. Please enjoy the experience."

Once Billy was satisfied that most of the customers likely to attend had been greeted, he took me to a space at one end of the bar and pulled off my dress. Giving a few playful slaps to my ass. The sight of my body being roughly stripped was far from unnoticed. A chorus of spontaneous appreciative remarks followed.

"Stay there and keep that lovely body in full view."

My naked flesh was now fully exposed. I am narcissist - I find my own body so sexy that I would like to fuck it myself were it possible. One of my many emotions was again pride. I was proud for my sexy nude body be admired by so many men. I was, as always, very turned on by the thought that it inspired lust and desires in men. The more that it inspired lust in others, the more it also inspired lust in me.

Billy took the microphone.

"The lovely Katy is now available for those of you that would like her to join you for a quick drink or to take a slow dance with her. You may touch almost any part of her body but no fingers in her pussy please. You can buy a ticket for either a dance or for her to join you for a drink from any of the bar girls."

"We will be having several raffles this evening. Katy has offered her body for two on-stage performances this evening. Each needs a helper. The blue tickets are to help Katy with one of her shows. The two winners will each assist in one of them."

The details of how my body was to be used had not been shared with me. As a slave I was explicitly not consulted. Although it would be a surprise, I was both a little anxious but a lot excited by the news that I was to put on two performances. My body had been auctioned before and used as the winnings from a poker game but being raffled was new and inspired. It carried a similar, deliciously sexy anticipation and uncertainty as on those earlier occasions. My nude flesh being offered to the winners carried that wonderful sense of humiliation. The treatment of my body as a commodity for entertainment, for the sadistic pleasure of others is, I imagine, a key fantasy of most submissives. I revelled in the objectivization of my flesh.

"There is a second raffle - this time yellow tickets. The two lucky winners will each have 30 minutes to do almost as they please with Katy's lovely body in the downstairs private room. Penetrative sex is not permitted. Anything else is allowed. Should you wish there is BDSM equipment available."

Loud cheers greeted the second announcement.

Before long men started to appear with tickets for a slow dance or to accompany them for a drink. I would always try to greet them with a smile and flirt with them. I didn't keep count but both activities kept me busy for a substantial part of the evening. As always I was aroused by showing off my body; my own sexual stimulation being heightened by its ability to excite sexual arousal in men. For the drinks I would always walk in front of the customer in a slow, sexy way to the table, giving a clear view of my deliberately swaying ass. I would order their drink of choice and a gin and tonic for myself. I had a secret gesture to signal the barman when it was to be just tonic. The alcohol helped me to brazenly offer my body but too much would not do. Despite this attempt at self-control my consumption of gin and tonics through the evening was significant.

The "drinks" sessions were really a cover for an opportunity for my body to be fondled. Once the customer was seated I would remain standing with my hands behind my back, within easy reach.

"Would sir like to closely examine my body?"

Typically, their hands would roam over the front of my body, breasts were squeezed, nipples tweaked gently (normally), hands run over my toned abdomen and up and down my thighs. It was inevitable that, despite the announcement, fingers would be slipped into my pussy. Sometimes I let it pass and sometimes not. Those fingers that did make it inside were always surprised by its moistness. Why didn't they expect me to be enjoying the experience? I didn't even bother to explain that I was indeed offering my body to them as a commodity to play with - that being "forced" to offer it as an object for them to play with was also extremely sexy for me. They could not understand that we were both gaining sexual kicks from it. I suppose they were unaware that I was strictly an amateur and doing it for the sexual thrill of the humiliation.

After turning to allow fondling of my ass I would sit, often on the customer's lap and the remainder of the time would be flirtation on my part, including, for example, using every opportunity to rub a naked leg or breast against them. Almost none sought any conversation about me as a person - not a problem since I wanted to be a sexy object for their enjoyment.

Readers already know my technique for a slow dance from earlier. Firstly, try to get the dance partner as close as possible (to avoid pussy grabs) and with hands on my ass. Then to rub my groin sensually (vaguely salsa or more accurately what the Caribbeans call a "wok-up") across my partner's. As far as I could tell most of the customers were very satisfied. Plenty needed to be prised away from my body when the dance was over. For me to say that this titillation was an arousing experience would be an under-statement but much better was to come.

Billy came to fetch me for my first on-stage performance. I still had no idea what to expect. He took me around to the steps to the stage, behind the closed curtains. It was unusually arranged. There was very little on stage just a low, padded couch and a dining chair. It was handed a piece of blue transparent mesh fabric and told to wrap it around my body and recline sexily on the couch.

The suspense of not knowing how my body would be publicly humiliated and abused made the anticipation even more sexy. It was already off my normal scale. The stage lights were turned off. As the curtains opened the lights were slowly turned up. My body, shrouded in flimsy, transparent cloth was bathed in light accompanied by loud cheers from the audience.

A tall man strode onto the stage, the first winner of the raffle. He was carrying a leather strap. I now knew what was coming. This must have been one of my husband's suggestions. I was instantly lifted into another level of arousal by the prospect. I could feel my pussy moisten further at the thought that humiliation and a public beating was to come. I could already imagine how horny the many sadists present would be by now. I almost felt it an honour (and a very sexy one), that the coming abuse of my body would be the stuff of their fantasies.

"Come here slut!"

I rose to my feet, still clasping the cloth around me. He tore it off and then used the strap to wind around my wrists behind my back, keeping one hand on it to stop it unwinding. In this way I was slowly walked to the chair. We paused to allow the audience to view my body. He order me to slowly twirl to provide a clear view to all. Like me they knew that it would soon be beaten but it helped build anticipation and excitement for the audience (and, unintentionally, for me).

My hands were released and firmly placed on the seat of the chair. So that my rear was placed for the coming punishment. I am not sure if it was to increase my psychological torment or the anticipation and excitement of the audience (or both) but he took care to carefully adjust my position by hand until he was satisfied with it. He walked behind me and, unexpectedly, there was a further pause. I knew what was coming and had no fear. I loved the thwack of leather hitting my flesh and I craved the delicious warm soreness that built up after a number of strokes. Even better was the thought of how the collected sadists would be so aroused by the cruelty inflicted for their pleasure.

"Gentlemen, the lucky winner of our first raffle will now spank Katy's sexy little ass for your entertainment. Please show your appreciation."

Cheers and applause followed.

Finally I could hear the swish of the strap through the air and an instant later the delicious thwack as it connected across both cheeks. A fraction of a second later came the burning flash of pain. I had no need to exaggerate. My body gasped, my legs alternately moved back and forth as my ass squirmed. I knew that the sadists present would enjoy the whole procedure and the sight of my body dealing with the pain would probably the most exciting for them. For me that thought, amongst others, made it very sexy for me too.

The next strike was a little off target, hitting the tops of my thighs. It hurt less, perhaps due to missing the main target. I could have probably taken it without reaction but continued the ritual of gasp, move legs alternately and squirming to make the audience think that the suffering was worse. In any case the movement must have been sexy to watch.

The next two strokes were firmly in place but, by now, the shock effect had gone and endorphins flowed. I continued to act up the level of pain. Cheers from the audience had started to accompany each blow. The top of my thighs were now also deliberately targeted. The utterly delightful feeling of warm soreness had to started to build. I was now in the zone to take and enjoy the pain. Despite appearances I could continue to suck up sexiness of the punishment for some time. I almost felt like asking him to hit harder, but this would have undermined my earlier efforts to make sexy squirming part of the show

My tormentor had so far done a good job. My ass had been whipped hard enough to provide a challenge but not too much to prevent me enjoying it thoroughly. He used the pretext of adjusting my body position to whisper.

"Should I stop now? "

"I'm fine but finish with a climax. Take two more strokes but really try much harder to hurt my body with them. The crowd will love it."

The impact of the first of the two was intense. I squealed involuntarily, performed my usual ritual and stood up to rub my tortured ass gently with my hands. Once the intense pain had settled I resumed my position. The next, final blow was just as bad. From one perspective the last two strokes were, perhaps less enjoyable for me, but it was not my comfort that was the point. There was more initial pain to absorb but the real reason was for appearances. I was no novice submissive. I knew that sadists like to see evidence of pain on the victims face and in their body movements. A large part of my own arousal was to see how much my body turned them all on. Up to now I had acted up the pain. I wanted them to see and enjoy my real reaction to a severe initial shot of pain.

I was taken to the front of the stage, I knew what was expected, I turned away from the audience so they could see my tortured ass and gave a few sexy wiggles as they admired the extensive red stripes. The cheering and applause was deafening, From the reaction they found my pride in the pain that my body has taken to be almost as sexy as its beating. Of course, I was glad in the normal way but much, much more arousing was the thought that I had provided a strong inspiration for a large number of men to masturbate at the earliest opportunity.

I was given a woefully short break to recover, just one very quick gin and tonic. Billy explained that several men had bought slow dance tickets for immediately after the show in the hope of being able to run their hands over my freshly beaten flesh. I duly obliged with a series of nude slow dances. After I had got through all the naked dances, Billy came up to me.

"As agreed before we bought some soothing oils and creams for your body. One of our customers has asked if he might apply them. Is that OK?"

"Of course."

I was taken to a long, well-padded couch and told to lie, face down. I couldn't see the customer but I could hear a bottle being squeezed and could feel the cold liquid being gently rubbed into my sore flesh. It was both sexy and soothing. I started to feel sleepy but I noticed that a crowd was gathering to watch. Since the back of my thighs had also been beaten the soothing balms were carefully rubbed there. It is almost impossible to touch the inside top of thighs without brushing against the pussy. I opened my legs a little and the fingers began to probe my pussy. I think that I am not the only woman that can have a quick, unnoticed mini orgasm. I did so then, trying not to be noticed. If anyone had noticed, then they gave no sign of it. Although I encouraged them to think of my body as a commodity I guess it never occurred to any of them that I had my own sexual desires.

Billy again appeared.

"Time for your second big performance."

I was again taken up to the stage behind the closed curtains. Again, much to my excitement, I had no real idea what was intended. Towards the back of the stage were wrist cuffs hanging from a chain fixed to the wall and ankle cuffs attached to a bar on the floor. I was certain that the front of my body and, perhaps, pussy was in for more cruelty. I was confident and unafraid. I knew that the initial sting of a whip or belt faded quickly and was confident that I could put on a superb performance. I would exaggerate my response to each blow as before, to make the show more exciting. The thought that the cruelty to be inflicted on my naked body would provide the material for the fifty or so men present to go home and masturbate was again a recurring and core fantasy of mine. I wanted the suffering, but I wanted more to provide a vivid, sensual memory that would keep them masturbating for some time. I found the thought of my body providing fantasy fodder for so many men as arousing a thought as possible. Again, I felt it was not just the destiny of my subservient body's but also its privilege to be humiliated and tortured for their sadistic pleasures. It felt as if it had been created for this purpose. I knew that the sexiness of my body could not last forever. The time available was limited so I wanted my body to feature for long in as many men's masturbation fantasies as possible. So little time, so many wankers.

At the front of the stage was a wooden bench. At one end was a slave collar with a leash and a bottle of massage oil. I was told to sit on the bench facing the audience in a way that the audience would have a clear view of my pussy.

Billy spoke to me:

"I will never forget this evening. That is an incredibly sexy body but your mind is even sexier. Your willingness to submit it to the pleasure of so many men and to do it so fearlessly Is magnificent."

He bent down and kissed me passionately.

"No problem. Being a willing sex slave is part of who I am. Do you think I don't enjoy it?"

Shortly later his voice came over the microphone.

"Gentlemen the lovely Katy is ready for the second and last show of the evening."

As before the curtains opened and the lights were gradually turned up to reveal my naked body with my pussy in the direct line of view, less than a yard from the front of the audience. I could immediately see that it met with the approval of the amateur gynaecologists. The second raffle winner walked onto the stage looking a little nervous. I smiled at him by way of encouragement to enjoy abusing my body. As expected, he fastened the collar and leash to my neck. I stood up, expecting to be taken straight to the bondage facility behind. To my surprise he led me in the direction of the steps down from the stage.

Billy's voice again came over the microphone.

"We wondered if any of you would be kind enough to help our lucky winner prepare Katy's body for the next show. We would like help with oiling her body."

I had expected a stampede but the audience was surprisingly restrained. I was walked from person to person. Each was given a squirt of oil in their hand and asked to apply it where they liked on my body. Generally I kept my hands behind my back if they wanted to oil the front of my body. I would turn if they preferred my ass. Officially they were not supposed to insert a finger in my pussy but, inevitably, several tried to do so. I let it pass - slaves don't have a right to complain. However, I did jump with surprise when one tried to oil my anus. The whole experience of being oiled by all and sundry was deliciously and sexily humiliating. In some ways I would have been happy to let it continue for longer. It is a shame to have a decent pussy and not use it. I suspect that many women would never have the courage to do anything similar but would secretly fantasise about it. Although I am a highly sexual, almost continually randy individual my upbringing would never have made me anything than appallingly fearful of anything other than fantasy. without It was the ability to mentally embrace and accept my fate as a slave available for any use that enabled me to throw off the tyranny of my own inhibitions.

I was pulled by the leash back onto the stage. My wrists and ankles were fastened to the cuffs and the leash removed. Yet again I was naked and helpless, my body waiting to be used for sadistic pleasures. I was no victim of one of my husband's schemes. I alone had manipulated and intrigued to put my body in this position and it was now and it was going to take the consequences. I won't repeat my earlier thoughts about destiny and the like - you can guess my enthusiasm for the pain to come.