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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…
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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.
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