· LB Collection · Story Links · Site Links · Poetry · Submissions · lbworlds Yahoo! · Donations ·

Exhibit: Lettice

© Clemstra
Spread out on a dais, naked with her legs spread apart. Her arms also spread, her head slightly elevated on a satin pillow. Her ankles and wrists held in place by padded manacles, her head with a thin silk cord over her forehead, tying her down. Her dark black hair was spread out behind her on display.

She had been meticulously cleaned, her finger and toe nails polished to a gleam. Her lips felt oiled. Chilled air had caused her nipples to stiffen and her aureole's to show dimples. Goose bumps were starting to form on her breasts, and other parts of her body.

An unknown body walked in. She heard them adjusting something and in response the room began to warm, her dimples softened and disappeared.

Lettice's vaginal hair had been washed and combed. She felt very clean, her stomach empty, she wondered if she had been douched and given an enema as she slept.

She had awakened from sleeping in her own bed to this. She felt calm, drugged perhaps?

Soft music played from somewhere. Her body was lit by lights strategically placed to illuminate her. People walked up to her, they looked upon her and read a program. It was like a museum and she was one of the exhibits. Another light was positioned to illuminate her vaginal region.

Two men walked up to the raised dais she lay on. They looked at their program, reading it carefully.

"Lettice, such an unusual name, but so appropriate for such a fine work." The man's voice was a rich low baritone. He was carefully examining her feet.

"Yes, a fine work, shall we examine Lettice more carefully?" The second man's voice was more reedy, but full.

Lettice felt rough hands softly brush against the toes of her left foot.

"Look at the toe nails, the shape of her toes." She felt fingers lightly feeling each of her toes.

The other man's hand started to touch her right foot. He ran his fingers down between her toes, examining each toe carefully.

"The foot arch is classical, don't you think Gerald?"

"Why yes Michael, her heel is very well shaped, and the ankles..." She felt his hands smoothing over her foot, then both hands moving over and touching her ankle.

The one called Gerald was fondling her right foot's arch. She sighed pleasantly.

"Very nice voice."

"Most musical, I wonder if she were fully played what vocal delights would come forth?"

She felt Michael's hands moving up and examining her calf. "Good strong Calf muscles."

"Such soft silky skin on the legs, and such fine thighs, creamy." Gerald's hands moving up to feel and move over her thighs. "Such fine long fingers and well shaped hands. But one thing at a time I always say."

She moaned slightly as her thighs had always been one of her Erogenous zones.

"Ah, most musical indeed. How thoroughly are we allowed to play this exhibit Lettice?"

"At this time actual intercourse is not allowed."


"Yes, but touching, smoothing, fondling IS allowed."

"Ah, yes that should allow some fine music to be created. Anything else."

"We are allowed to kiss, lick and suck to further experience this exhibit."

"Excellent! When is the exhibit to be FULLY appreciated?"

She heard paper rustle as the exhibit program was consulted.

"Riding Lettice commences in one month, the full further experiences in 2 months, then the exhibit will be moved to Chicago."

"Really? How long is she to be exhibited?"

"A full world tour it appears. 5 Years then retired as the special at a feast for the greatest fans of this piece. Major contributors to her upkeep will be invited to help retire her in an artistic manner and appreciate her one last time - COMPLETELY."

5 years? What was going on here? This had to be a dream. Was she really being treated like a museum piece? Displayed, touched, ridden? Retired at a feast? She had not been gagged and now curious or perhaps recovering from being drugged she tried to speak.

"What do youuu....Ahhhh."

She felt an index finger gently stroking the outer lips of her vulva. She gasped and moaned in pleasure.

Fingers stroking the inner lips of her Vulva on the opposite side.

"Ah, what a nice little pearl don't you think?"

"Ahhhh" Extreme Ecstasy as a finger stroked her clitoris.

"Oh that was very nice don't you think. Let's play this fine instrument a bit more shall we?"

She felt the tip of a tongue enter ever so quickly, darting in and out of her vaginal hole.

"Ohhh, God Yes!" She writhed in rhapsody, a journey of mind and body.

The finger stroking her clitoris continued even as the tongue continued working on her Vaginal hole, licking, sucking up her juices.

She heard her own voice as she came over and over, higher and higher into deeper rapture.

"Oh that was very nice. Such excellent vocal music, yet we have hardly began to play this exhibit."

"True, but let us get a bit of tea and then come back to experience Lettice again."

"yes, next time let's also lick her clean, and examine her entire body, shall we?"

"I concur. Take a break dear Lettice. We will definitely be among your sponsors and hopefully among those that shall lead you to retirement in five years."

She heard their foot steps echo through the chamber. in another room, the sounds of a man in utter sexual abandonment, and knew she was not the only exhibit.

When Gerald and Michael returned they did exactly what they had said they would. She had the most intense sexual experience in her life and yet had not had intercourse, yet.

Others looked her over, stroked her, prodded, smoothed their fingers over her, kissed, fondled, licked and sucked on her that day. They stroked their fingers through her long dark hair, telling her what a beautiful work of art she was. Some examined her face, her lips, commenting on the art of her face. A kiss on one of her eye lids as she blinked.

At the end of the day, she thought it was day but with no windows how could she tell, care takers came for her. Exhausted, she offered no resistance as she was taken, bathed, massaged, fed and fell into a deep sleep.

In the background before falling asleep she heard soft music, and thought she heard whispers. As she dreamed, she dreamed of being on exhibit. Of at the end of five years being pleasurably retired by being slow cooked and eaten. In her dreams this too was pleasure, not pain.

Outside her room, the one way mirror on the side of her room had people sitting. The people paid to watch her sleep naked, and read what subliminal messages were being fed to her as she slept.

Gregory and Michael were among the audience. They read fully the biography of Exhibit Lettice. They eagerly anticipated when in a month she would fully cooperate in her own exhibiting. She would talk and sing for those who came to enjoy her.

They sadly realized that in five years she would be fully retired and discussed what the cost of being among those that would get the final appreciation of her would be. They felt raw - like fine Kobe beef would be best, perhaps a bit of sugar liquor injected in her breasts, a sweet syrup in her stomach, intestines and womb. So sad it would have to end. But by then she would be totally incapable of feeling any type of pain.

The final appreciation at her retirement package would be for her the ultimate and the last in earthly pleasures. Her flavor would be at it's peak by then.

They looked at the menu for tonight's retirement dinners. Dinning pavilion C had exhibit Henry R and Dinning Pavilion B had Anne. They needed to get to the retirement of Anne before she was totally exhausted. They wanted to let her know the joy she had given them while on exhibit. She was to be slow roasted so a nice nap in the Pavilion was allowed on cushions, while they listened to her musical moans as she slow cooked.

Anne looked like she would be truly delicious, and the memorial pins made from her bone and hair would be true collectors items. Just as they felt Lettice would be in five years. Though they were still certain Lettice would be best raw. Like prime Kobe beef, or in this case prime pampered Lettice.

The subliminal messages had already started to successfully make her the finest of art. In Lettice's dreams she offered herself to a throng of admirers who could never get enough of her. They had to have her, literally to consume her in the end.

She wanted to give herself to them fully. She was art after all. Art is meant to be loved, appreciated, perhaps consumed.

© Clemstra

Please encourage our authors with email

· LB Collection · Story Links · Site Links · Poetry · Submissions · lbworlds Yahoo! · Donations · top ·