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Diana & Nathan hire a 'professional' playmate.


"We're adding another twist," she said. "Before you cut off the piece of clothing you want, we'd like you to reassure the performer - that would be me - with a soothing caress or some whispered words of encouragement. We're going for a seduction vibe here. This will increase the bond between the performer and the individual audience members, which could lead to a more nuanced interpretation of the piece." She paused, flipping her cue card over, and then resumed.

"We have a video camera in the back of the theater to document the performance. With that in mind, please refrain from taking cell phone video. This is a live performance between me and each one of you in the audience. It's not a performance between me and millions of internet perverts."

"Darn it," a man's voice said. The crowd chuckled nervously, looking around to find the offender, who appeared to be a bald guy in the front row. Unfazed, Veronica continued.

"Anyone who might have questions or comments is welcome to join me backstage after the performance."

She stepped back from the mic, and there was a smattering of polite applause. She turned towards her chair of doom and then froze. Returning to the mic, she said: "Sorry, I forgot to thank Miranda Lopez, the owner of the Bright House Gallery. She rented the theater tonight, and she'll be the one in charge of the handcuff keys, so don't let her run off until we're finished, okay?"

The audience chuckled again as Veronica walked dutifully to the chair and sat down. Miranda, the older woman I'd seen in the lobby, appeared wearing dark pleated slacks and a billowy white shirt with an ascot tucked up under her neck. With a dramatic flourish, she unlocked the handcuffs and secured Veronica's hands behind her back. Then she produced a pair of red-handled scissors from her back pocket and placed them on the floor at Veronica's feet.

"You may proceed," Miranda announced, her face distorted into a snarling grin.

Silence. Obviously, no one wanted to go first. Finally, a plump girl took the scissors, paused to whisper something in Veronica's ear, and then snipped a small, pie-shaped section off the side of her dress. Veronica remained motionless, eyes straight ahead, lips pursed, a slightly pained expression on her face. It was creepy to watch, and yet it was arousing. Already, I could feel the tingle of my dick waking up.

The cutting continued. Swatches of her dress disappeared into the hands of strangers as they whispered and rubbed her back. Someone cut off a sleeve and her bare shoulder was revealed, white, innocent looking. After a few more minutes of creative cutting, her dress was reduced to a raggedy patch of dangling cloth remnants, revealing her long legs ensconced in the black pantyhose. A few more snips and she had holes in both knees of her stockings. Then a longhaired blonde woman put a hand on her shoulder, whispered in her ear, and snipped the tops of the dress, being careful not to cut the straps of her undergarments. With the last snip, her dress fell down to her waist, revealing a lacy slip with a bra underneath.

Veronica remained totally passive, although as the caresses continued, I could almost see her leaning into them like when you pet a cat. It was as if the scissors-wielding participants were playing her body like a musical instrument, and she was responding with a concerto of desire.

The pace quickening now, a small Asian woman sliced the front of her slip open clear down to her waist, and a heavyset woman finished the cut, all the way down to the hem at the bottom. The slip dangled open now, revealing her plain white bra. Several more cuts opened her stockings clear up to the tops of her thighs, and all the way down to her ankles.

The bald guy from the front row crept up, touched her shoulder gently, whispered in her ear, and then cut both straps of her slip, accidentally catching her left bra strap at the same time.

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