The Show (3)

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Posted by Skyhook_The_Academy on Wed 24 Jun 09, 1:09 AM to Skyhook_The_Academy's blog.

“Alright, hold on”. She was rubbing her eyes with a screwed up hand as she stumbled down the hall, partly to clear the sleep but mostly to shield her eyes from the sun's glare coming through the glass in her front door, blinding even at this early hour. She fumbled with the lock for a few seconds before opening the door to peer though the gap. A postman was waiting outside, his hand mid-reach to ring the doorbell a forth time.

“Morning luv, did I wake you? I've got a recorded delivery, need a signature”.

“Oh right, fine”. She checked the delivery really was for her then signed his paperwork quickly, shutting the door after with as much haste as politeness would allow. She really just wanted to go back to bed. As she walked back upstairs she examined the envelope the postman had handed her. It felt quite expensive, heavyweight cream paper, her name and address handwritten on the front in a neat, contained script. A bit of a mystery, then.

She belly flopped onto her bed with a sigh, then began to work a nail under the envelope flap, frowning slightly. The flap was firmly stuck down but for some reason she felt complied to open it properly rather than just rip across the top with her finger. Eventually the adhesive yielded to her and the envelope was open. She peered inside before pulling out the contents – a single piece of parchment coloured card, blank one side, the message on the other side in the same handwritten stylised script as the envelope. No addresses, simply her name printed at the top above the main body of text.

No. Please no.

“We trust you enjoyed your recent induction to The Academy, and that you now know we are as good as our word. We can and will make your fantasies come true.

We further hope you will now understand we were being entirely forthright when we said there would be a price to pay.

In return for each fulfilled fantasy you must make yourself available to us, should we consider you suitable to play a role in another members fantasy.

As we stated before you agreed to join us, this is not negotiable.

Present yourself this Saturday, 7.30 p.m. prompt at the address below.

Return transport home will be provided, Sunday before noon.”

No. She read and reread the card, unable to take it all in in one go. There was no threat contained in the words, just a statement of fact. She had no illusions about the power these people had though, no doubt about what they were capable of should she not comply. After all, they had engineered her own fantasy with such ease. Her fantasy. Be careful what you wish for. In your head, no matter what your fantasy you still have an element of control, you steer events how you wish. The Academy had stripped her of that, taken her, been true to their word, made her fantasy flesh, but always under their control.

At first, in the days after she'd been high, floating. She'd felt empowered and invincible, like she had seen a secret behind the world, wheels behind wheels that few get to see or even imagine exist. The comedown after had been harsh. A range of emotions had overwhelmed her; fear, tears then anger turning to rage – but she knew she hadn't been used. They had simply given her what she had asked for. Be careful what you wish for.

Now, and above all that, there was a price to pay.

Two months after she'd first walked up to the Academy's doors, she finds herself approaching another brooding building. This one is not in the city centre though, it's set back from the road on a wide residential street, part hidden by the trees that line the long gravelled driveway. She slowly walks up the centre of the drive, her feet crunching on the loose ground as she passes cars parked nose to tail along the edge of the lawn. Large Jaguars, Mercedes, BMW's, Audi's, an Aston Martin sat hunched, looking like it was moving at speed even when stationary.

She can't stretch time out any further. Stood on the wide porch in front of the front door, she takes a deep breath in a not entirely successful attempt to slow her heartbeat down to a sprint, presses the brass doorbell. It takes a 20 second wait, but her silent prayer that the ring will be unanswered is dashed when the door slowly opens.

“Come in, please”. The woman who greets her is mid-thirties, immaculately presented in a simply cut cocktail dress, long blonde hair swept back in a chignon. She didn't question who the girl was, simply ushered her into the reception hall.

She wonders if – and how – the hostess recognises her. But when she speaks again it's clear she is new to this woman. They are stood apart, enough distance for the blonde woman to give her an appraising look. There is no malice or unkindness in her eyes though, and when she speaks there is a smile in her voice. “You are perfect! Beautiful! I can see why you were chosen. Come with me please, and I shall explain your role tonight”. With that she gently took the girl's hand in hers and lead her up the broad wood staircase. They ascended slowly, the woman in no particular hurry. The staircase swept around the hall, ending in a narrow galley landing which lead deeper into the house. As they walked down the corridor the woman explained that her name was Sasha, and that she would be on hand to make the girl's stay as comfortable as possible. The girl, for her part didn't feel compelled to talk, other than to make polite noises in reply.

The doors leading off both sides of the corridor were all closed, save for the one Sasha now stopped before. She pushed it slightly further ajar and beckoned with her head for the girl to look inside. In the room were maybe eight to ten men. Dressed formally, some smoking, most with an expensive crystal glass in his hand or near-by. A couple of the men shot a brief look at them through the door then went back to their conversations, only one man choosing to let his eyes linger until Sasha closed the door. The girl looked at her, confusion bold on her face. Sasha merely smiled back, and led her on.

“This will be your room” she said, opening another door. The room was large and richly furnished, a high bed against the far wall, two sizable sash widows on the wall to her right. Sasha told her to make herself comfortable, there was a bathroom through the door on their left, everything in the room was hers to use.

“I shall call for you in about 30 minutes”, Sasha informed her.

“Call me? For what?”

Sasha smiled again. “For the reason you are here of course. For the Show. You have been chosen to be our star guest! We are holding a small party in the ballroom downstairs. A few of the Academy's most favoured and powerful members. They will be finishing their meal soon, and then it will be time for the Show. They have decided on a very particular form of entertainment for tonight.

I shall present you on stage, introduce you to our guests. I shall then retreat, and you will strip for the room.

You will then be joined by the group of gentlemen we saw in the other room.

Our guests have requested to view an orgy. A group of men and a single girl, a girl with your particular personality, used as a whore, turned into a slut before them.

The men will fuck you in turn, share you, violate every hole for the pleasure of our watching guests.

Imagine, as you are used, the looks on the faces watching you. Will the women pity or scorn you? Or will their jealousy be obvious? Will the men study the acts on you dispassionately, or will you feel their heat and desire?

I am so looking forward to the Show!”

And with that Sasha turned and left the room, leaving the girl staring at the closed door, screaming a silent 'no…'

Written by Skyhook.

Edited Thu 25 Jun 09, 10:13 PM by Skyhook_The_Academy