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It wasn’t long at all until I had my first admirers. It was really strange at first, being naked in what was, despite the legal classification, public. The exhibitionist in me was loving it. I’d been naked in front of a lot of strangers at a lot of my parties, but this was new. For one, a lot of people were seeing me naked. In the first fifteen minutes there were more guys looking at me than had been at any single party before. It was also weird just basically being a passive decorative add-on to the Roped Up booth, versus the focus of a party.
I guess the word spread that the Roped Up booth had a naked girl in it, because we always had more people at our booth than any of the surrounding ones, at least that I could see.
I’d had guys stare at me and examine me at my parties, but nothing like this. You’d think these dudes had never seen a naked girl before. To be fair, even at strip clubs they probably didn’t have the opportunity to just look at a girl who was not just naked and there to be stared at, but who was utterly immobile as well.
Some of the guys had no problem with telling me what was on their minds.
“I bet you love sucking dick with that pretty little mouth,” a guy with an “Ask me About My Rope” ball-cap told me.
There were two guys who spent a lot of time staring at me from across the aisle, and having some sort of debate. Finally, one of them came over and stood right in front of me, then bent down. He bent over so far that I half-expected him to fall over. Twisting his head, he stared at the underside of my boobs. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on them, and if I hadn’t been ball-gagged at that point, I probably would have tried to convince him to lick and suck my nipples.
Straightening up, he nudged his buddy, who had joined him, and said, “Huh, ok, they look real to me.”
He took a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and gave it to his friend. They walked off, the toupee guy seeming happy despite being twenty dollars poorer.
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After the first hour, Damon and the only other girl at our booth, she of the fully-covered body, walked over to me.
Damon said to her, “I want to show off more of our rope. Let’s tie up her boobs.”
The girl was a tall, thin brunette, dressed just like the guys all were, in Roped Up polo’s and slacks. According to her badge, her name was Shari, and she looked to be just fine with this new task from Damon.
Trying not to sound excited, she said, “Ok, cool. I think the 550 paracord is perfect for that application. How tight do you want…”
Damon, looking somewhat distracted, waved off her question before it even finished. Before she could try and ask him again, he headed off to deal with some other booth situation.
“Ok, I guess I’ll figure that out on my own,” she said to his retreating back.
She looked at my boobs with a critical eye.
“Wow, you are a titsy bitch, aren’t you?” she muttered. “These will tie up nice.”
She selected a length of bright green paracord from the table. Holding one end against the side of my boob, she made an initial tight wrap around the base. The paracord, being much smaller in diameter than the ropes I was used to being tied up with, dug into my boob, and I made a little “ummm” noise into the ball gag.
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