Madame B - Ecstasy

Next up to attend to Anna was her dresser. The first garment Anna was to model was a sheer chiffon minidress with a barely-there skirt. She went braless, and the fabric rubbed against her nipples, making them stand to attention. Anna checked herself out in the mirror, assessing not the designer's work but whether Joey would find her attractive in it. Through the translucent, pewter-colored fabric you could see each nipple and the contours of her breasts clearly. Good. Joey worshipped her small, round tits. This would drive him wild. And her brown hair was tousled, and her eyes had the smudged-eyeliner rock chick look he loved.

The atmosphere backstage was tense and electric. Anna swigged from a champagne flute as her dresser helped her into a pair of vertiginous silver heels. The designer, Alessandro, was a camp, flamboyant Roman who once told Italian Vogue that Anna was the only woman he'd ever consider sleeping with. He came over to check that she was doing his creation justice.

"Bellissima! " he said, kissing her on both cheeks. "You make my dress come alive, darling. Now, go and be fabulous." And with that, it was time. The adrenaline rush that always accompanied a catwalk show kicked in, and Anna Lamb slipped through the white curtain and onto the runway.

The superstar model entered to rapturous applause. She could feel the heat of the dazzling lights-the runway was at least five degrees warmer than backstage. Damn! Anna hoped that her nipples wouldn't lose their erect pertness. She was very aware that Joey's eyes would be fixed on her tits in this dress and that he would be disappointed if he didn't see two bullet-hard nipples poking through the sheer fabric. Through the white-hot glare she could just about make out the people in the front row. They read like a Who's Who of the international fashion scene. Magazine editors from all five continents sat knee-to-knee with movie stars. But Anna only had eyes for Joey, and, executing her signature stride down the length of the runway, she scanned the sea of beautiful faces for her lover. Suddenly she could see him there at the end of the catwalk. She took in the familiar pale skin, the mop of black hair, beautiful high cheek-bones, and hint of shadow under his dark eyes. They'd had no time to sleep last night. He was holding up what looked like a small mobile phone. Anna was touched. The world's fashion press here, she thought, and he still wants to get a shot of me on his camera phone.

At the end of the runway, she was only inches away from Joey. She inhaled his familiar smell-whisky mingled with the expensive aftershave she liked him to wear. Then he held up the little device in his hand. That wasn't a mobile phone. She wanted to ask him what was going on, but she had to stay professional. Puzzled, she thrust her hips forward and gave her trademark pout. As she did so, Joey pressed a button on his gadget. The panties suddenly began to buzz, sending urgent waves of stimulation to Anna's clit. She was so shocked she nearly lost her composure. Her body oozed lust, and her mind was reeling. He'd bought those remote-control panties they'd seen in that sex shop! Holy shit! And now he was using them to tease her before a potential audience of millions. The dirty fucker. The clever, clever boy.

Anna parted her lips in a pretend-orgasm face that was only partly faked. After a few seconds, it was time for the model to stalk back up the runway, giving the audience a view of her back and giving her the opportunity to recover before her sex-flushed face gave everything away. Hugely aroused, she had trouble maintaining her carefree strut. With every step, the lace rubbed against her bare pudenda, and the vibrations sent a fresh wave of desire through her body. Christ, she could do without peaking here on the catwalk. Her orgasms tended to be body-rocking, head-to-toe experiences in which she would arch her back and claw her hands at the air while her legs gave way beneath her. Then, just as suddenly as they had started, the vibrations stopped. They had gone, and Anna wanted more. She was completely under Joey's control.

Now, as she sashayed down the runway swathed in a red silk gown, Anna thought she was prepared for the vibrations in her panties, but the sight of Joey's face made her ache for his touch. He toyed with her, flipping the current on/off, on/off until Anna couldn't predict when the next jolt would come. But it didn't occur to Anna to remove the panties. She had never been afraid to play his game before, and she wasn't going to back down now, on their most daring and public round yet.

The third time, in a skinny black pantsuit, Anna was biting back tears of frustration from the lust that had built up. Joey turned the panties on as soon as she emerged, licking his lips as she stood before the audience, knees trembling, pussy so swollen she could barely walk, and the lubrication from between her legs threatening to stain Alessandro's couture trousers. She decided that maybe Joey's little gift of lingerie would have to go after all.

The final costume was Alessandro's piece de resis tance, a show-stopping creation that was more a work of art than an article of clothing. The shiny gown was a space-age wedding dress, a fabulous mix of sheer fabrics and highly reflective metallics. Never afraid to court controversy, Alessandro had designed the dress with a strategic slash across the bodice, meaning that the left breast was restrained by silver satin while the right one was naked and vulnerable. Anna glanced down at the exposed breast. The nipple was erect and flushed to a dark reddish-brown, telling Joey and the rest of the world just how turned on she was. She turned to look for her dresser to help her lift the folds of her gown and remove the thong, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Frantically, she tried to tug them off herself, wobbling on her skyscraper heels.

Alessandro saw her struggling with the voluminous layers of her skirt and playfully slapped her hand away. The touch of another human being made her throb with frustration.

"You haven't got time to rearrange yourself, darling," he said. "You're on!" And with that, he thrust her out toward the cheering public.

The music changed for the grand finale. Anna almost laughed; it was the track that had taken Joey to the top of the charts, "Beautiful Slave," the song that he had written for her after they first made love. The explicit lyrics detailed what they'd done that night: He had made her his slave then, and she was just as helpless now. And there was nothing she could do about it. The buzzing started, making Anna's breath come in short gasps that were almost sobs. Her pussy was dripping, and she could feel the telltale contractions letting her know an orgasm was on its way. She walked toward Joey, eyes begging him not to make her come, to let her do the day job she was so famous for, please! As she drew closer to him, the cameras trained on both of them-the model on the catwalk and her adoring lover-but Anna was worried they'd get another picture entirely if Joey didn't turn off the vibrator in the next few seconds.

Anna tried to exercise mind over muscle. If only she could wait until the show was over and Joey could come backstage, fuck her, and put her out of her misery. But this image made things even worse, as she imagined his skinny body hovering over hers, sliding his smooth, long cock between her legs the way he had this morning. Her wetness seeped through her panties and ran down her legs threatening to stain the $60,000 showpiece dress. Her tits rose and sank as her breathing became shallow, the exposed breast visibly quivering.

This dress, this moment, was the highlight of Alessandro's latest collection. Anna had to hold her pose for ten whole seconds while lights flashed, music played, and the crowd applauded the designer. She was now teetering on the edge of the runway, face-to-face with Joey. When she finally dared to meet his eyes, she saw him mouth the words, "Come! Come, you little slut," and with that, he twisted the handset in his hand and turned the vibrations up to an intensity so fast and strong that Anna was sure it would drown out the music. Short of ripping the underwear off-which was not very practical-there was nothing she could do. She felt the familiar pre-orgasmic rush start to creep across her chest. Would the cameras pick it up? As she tensed her body, preparing it for the massive release of tension, she reflected that since she was going to come so hard, it was almost a shame she wouldn't have Joey's dick inside her; she'd squeeze it so tight, so tight. It was too late.