Damon smiled the satisfied smile that fishermen get when the fish is good and hooked. “All of our customers are invited.” He put noticeable emphasis on the word “customers”.
The guy nodded, absorbing this information, and then asked Damon if they made some type of rope whose name sounded more like a super-hero than something you’d tie your boat up with. Damon said they did, and ushered the guy over to the little table-and-chairs that was set up towards the back of the booth, so they could begin their deal-making in earnest. They were far enough away that I couldn’t hear them, which was fine, since I’d already heard more about what separates good polypropylene from bad polypropylene, and how they ensure that rope colors don’t vary from batch to batch than I cared to. Ok, that last one had actually been sort of interesting. Or maybe that was just due to there not being much intellectual stimulation when you are tied up spread-eagle at a trade show.
Once or twice I really did wish I could hear the various conversations, like when the guy would look over at me, or point at me, and say something. Damon would respond with a chuckle and/or grin, and give a response that usually resulted in in the guy nodding happily. Hearing the crude way guys sometimes talk about me is one of my turn-ons. Well, at least it is when I’m in “slut mode” at one of my parties. Or tied up naked in an exhibition-hall. Otherwise it’s just downright creepy.
But in this case, I was tied up naked, and obviously here to tantalize the attendees, so I was sure that he wasn’t asking Damon what my favorite book was, and that was just fine. The only part that wasn’t fine was that damned no-touching rule! Being on display, tied up and naked, made me really horny, and not getting any physical stimulation to go along with it was incredibly frustrating. I guess it’s good I was gagged at this point, because I was past ready to start begging guys to touch me, and I’m not sure what would happen to Damon if he allowed the no-touching rule to be broken.
❖ ❖ ❖
Damon thanked me for a great morning at his booth as he and Shari untied me. He said that booth traffic was several times what it had been in the past. They had also closed more deals just this morning than they had done the entire day during the previous show, something he attributed to guys wanting an invitation to the Roped Up end-of-show party.
I wasted no time in getting dressed and heading out of the exhibit hall. I was anxious for lunch, and for sex, so I texted Eric, “Hey babe, done for the day, and headed to the room. Your wife is horny!”
His reply was an immediate, “What’s new,” with a big, grinning, and somehow lecherous, emoji.
As exciting and as frustrating as my time on display had been, lunch was just going to have to wait…
❖ ❖ ❖
The second day of my time as a booth-babe went a little differently. For starters, instead of being on display in the morning, today would be in the afternoon, for a few hours at the end of the show.
I arrived at the booth, expecting to be tied up back in the frame when Damon told me he had something else for me to do first.
“We’re going to try and drum up even more interest,” he said.
He gave me a skimpy red bikini to put on, and I stripped out of my street clothes and into it in full view of the people walking by the booth.
“Now, your leash,” he said.
He produced a red leather collar, and a long leather leash that matched the bikini, and clasped the collar around my throat.
Shari had a couple of cloth signs that she tied to the bikini top, and just below my boobs, with one hanging over my stomach, and one over my lower back. They both said “See me naked from 4:00 – 6:00 at the Roped Up booth C57.”
Damon, my leash held tightly in his hand, started walking. He didn’t even look back, he just assumed I’d follow subserviently, which I did. We walked through the aisle, me getting all of the attention you’d expect, and then he headed for the exit doors.
“Damon, where are we going?” I asked him, a note of urgency in my voice. I had not expected to be displayed anywhere but the show floor.
“Not everyone finds time to visit the show floor,” he said. “And even the ones that do might not make it by our booth. So I’m casting a wider net.”
He led me up to the floors where the various seminars and talks were being held. There were a surprising number of rooms set up for presentations. How much can you talk about rope? Apparently quite a bit. Damon led me past each room, making sure that the guys leaving and entering got a good look at me and my signs. He was also handing out Roped Up flyers to anybody that would take one.
We didn’t just stick to the halls outside the rooms. If a room had a crowd in it, but the presentation hadn’t started yet, he was shameless about parading me into the room, up the aisles and across the front. With each new group of guys that stared at me and made crude comments, my excitement grew. The bikini bottom was super-shear, and I could see it becoming more see-through as my juices made it damp.
Being led around on a leash was bad enough, but being used to advertise a chance to see me naked made it even more humiliating. This was another new experience for me, and I found myself very turned on by it. Damon thought of it as getting every bit of business advantage he could from my body, but little did he know he was giving me new adventures in exhibitionism, and I was loving every minute of it!
He made sure to have me back, and tied into the frame, well before the promised 4:00 start time.
❖ ❖ ❖
Another difference from the first day was that they didn’t tie my boobs up. I asked Damon about this, and his reply was that they wanted to take it a little easy on me since tonight was going to be the big end-of-show party.
After the first morning, I’d had frenzied, passionate sex with Eric, then been able to sprawl on the bed in our hotel room, reading and watching TV. Tonight would be a very different evening. After a quick break for dinner, I’d be off to the party, and a night of nothing but sex.
And wow, was I looking forward to the party. After two days of being naked and on display, I was beyond excited. I was really counting on all these horny businessmen to provide plenty of nice hard dicks to satisfy what had become almost an ache between my legs as the evening approached. Finally, the show ended, giving me just enough time to change and get myself ready for the party before needing to meet Damon at his room.
Mass Nailing
Me being tied up and naked in the Roped Up booth on the show floor was just the “teasing” part. Tonight was where I got to live up to the promises that Damon and his crew had been making to all their old and new customers about getting to have fun with the booth babe.
The suite was full of horny guys when Damon ushered me in. There must have been a dozen guys, most of them wearing suits that had not been that impressive even before having been stuffed in a suitcase. I recognized a lot of the faces as ones that had stared at me lustfully during my time in the booth. They all looked anxious to get what Damon had promised them, which was the chance to actually have their way with the naked girl they’d been drooling over.
The suite was a large one, with a wet-bar that looked well-stocked with various types of beer, and enough liquor for every guy here to have his own bottle. Shiny pink and gold streamers hung from the ceiling, someone’s idea of gang-bang decor.
I felt a bit underdressed in that crowd. The second I’d stepped across the threshold, Damon had pulled off the voluminous rain-coat he’d had me wearing as we walked through the hotel’s hallways. Underneath I was wearing a lacy, see-through purple bra, and matching panties. Transparent five-inch heels were the only things I had on other than those two skimpy bits of lingerie.
A guy rocking a comb-over exclaimed, “Ho-leee shit. And we really get to fuck her?”
Based on their hungry expressions, he’d asked the question that was on the mind of every guy there.
Damon gave a laugh and made an expansive gesture, throwing his arms wide.
“Of course. Just our little way of saying thanks for giving Roped Up your business,” he said jovially.
“Fuck yeah,” said one of the younger guys there. “Going to give her my business too.” He grabbed his crotch lewdly, in an unnecessary clarification of just what he meant by “business”.
Some of the other guys chimed in.
“I wanna fuck her pretty little mouth.”
“Not me, I’m going for that whore’s pussy.”
“God, look at that rack.”
“Damn, you know what a hooker that looks like her would cost?”
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