“I’ve heard it’s quite recent technology,” Cassandra completed, “the organisers take great care to ensure anonymity, their own and those of all their guests.”
“Yes, they are quite rich and powerful,” Gaëlle said, “just look at the shows they set up, and the transport they provide to their guests, and the food they serve. You were talking about the buffet just now, weren’t you, Bel?”
“Yes, the rarest delicacies you could think of,” Belinda agreed, “to resume my account of last year’s experience, we were eating like some others, watching the rest dancing in couples or groups. There was quite a lot of touching and groping, inside and outside the groups.”
“Oh, they just start touching and feeling like that?” Sachita asked, incredulous. “You mean there will be feeling and groping too?”
The artist doing the lower body was now at her feet and he applied a damp cloth over her shaven pussy to wipe out the juice that had started oozing before applying the paint.
“Well, inside the groups,” Cassandra intervened to explain, “they know each other even if they are now unidentifiable to outsiders and they know among themselves what is and what is not allowed. For example, for us four, anything goes between us as far as touching is concerned.”
“Outside groups,” Gaëlle added to complete the explanation, “whatever is exposed is deemed touchable.”
“Like my mentor,” Belinda said, “who chose to come topless last year. Every now and then, she was getting playful squeezes and flattering remarks on her boobs. I must say they were quite a pair, very eye-catching. But they did not touch her elsewhere or me for that matter.”
“What’s her name?” Sachita asked.
“She can’t tell you,” Cassie intervened, “you are secrecy bound not to reveal the identity of others to people outside.”
“Just curious,” Sachita apologised, then asked again, “What about us then? Are we getting groped? Are we exposed or not?”
The two foreigners chuckled in unison.
“To be or not to be exposed, “Cassandra mocked, “that is the question.”
“Don’t worry,” Gaëlle intervened, “At least, we will be under paint cover. There will be others who will be openly flaunting their goods.”
“Oh, yes,” Cassandra added with relish, “we are not speaking of daring clothes that will give a chance peek at a boob or pussy. Some will come with bared bosom like Belinda’s mentor last year, others with ass in the air.” Addressing Gaëlle, “remember that woman last year? Her bodice covered her whole torso except her tits and similarly, her ankle-length skirt covered everything from the waist down except her conch and butt.”
“And that other woman,” Gaëlle added, “who came as a slave, completely naked and shaved, drawn by a chain by her master.”
“It really is a flash party then,” Sachita commented.
“A flash party and much more than that,” Gaëlle corrected. “If you flash on someone,” deliberately using the same word with another meaning, “you can invite him or her to one of the side rooms for some naughty game, though it’s normally the men who do the chasing.”