The management of the Chromium Shaft Club frequently arranges entertainments for the amusement of members and their guests. The names of the acts and the kinds of entertainment to be provided was part of the briefing given to junior staff members - such as myself - on their arrival. I suppose in the Dark Ages of the Twentieth Century such information would have been transferred on paper, or by some time-wasting personal meetings. Fortunately, the Club used the modern approach, the information being conveyed subliminally, by the automation, which as always feels - afterwards - as if you had always known everything about it.
On this occasion, Maxine and Kitti had engaged a troupe of performers known as the Busty Creamers: unusually, all girls and - even more unusually - all of the same Kind, a type known as Partons. Someone once told me that this Kind was named after a famous singer and actress, back in historical times, one who was renowned for her mass of blonde hair and her fabulously large breasts.
Inevitably, then, all six of the bimbos had blonde hair - all artfully curled and tousled - long slender legs and taut asses, and the most immense boobs I had come across in a long time. One of the design features of this Kind, apparently, is the strengthening of the tendons which support their tits so that, despite their size, their breasts are pert and bouncy without any artificial support. I was also told that the musculature in their shoulders and backs are enhanced to support the extra unbalancing weight.
The area of the Club known as The Stage was set for the Busty Creamers' performance. It was actually a circular depression about fifteen meters across, set around with tables and chairs. Banks of private booths and other more luxurious accommodations were set further back in the shadows, all fitted out in soft Letherz(TM) upholstery in various dark colors.
The stage itself was brightly-lit and bare except for The Vat, a circular tank of a transparent material, open at the top and with walls low enough to be stepped over with only a little difficulty. The Vat contained a gelatinous liquid colored a pale shade of creamy-yellow, currently deep enough to come up to one's ankles. I was on hostess duty, circulating between the tables and chairs, guiding members and guests to vacant seats, helping them with their drinks and toys, and pausing only occasionally to suck an errant cock or allow a curious member to explore the cunt between my breasts.
Booming bouncy music sounded out announcing the start of the show and the performers danced on waving to the crowd who signaled their welcome enthusiastically with applause, cheers and wolf-whistles. The Partons stepped over the sides of the tank, their long legs making short work of the vertical sides of The Vat. Each dancer was naked, except for a ribbon in a fetching shade of pink. Some wore the ribbon in their hair, others wore it as a necklace; one had it tied around her waist and another around her upper thigh like a garter.
The Busty Creamers launched into the elaborately choreographed introduction to their performance, dancing and prancing around with their feet splashing in the liquid, waving and blowing kisses at the crowd, and bending forward provocatively to allow their pendulous breasts to swing free. The audience loved it, the decibel level of the applause and shouting rising rapidly.
Their next steps formed the troupe into pairs, each pressing their breasts together, the colors of their nipples a startling contrast despite the similarity of their skin tone. The girls then moved to straddle one another with their legs apart, allowing their curvaceous asses and delightful public mounds to be inspected closely by the nearer members of the audience. The girls darted sensual and playful licks to one another's bodies here and there: mouth and neck and nipples and belly and labia were all targets for first modest pecks and later wildly indulgent tongue-play.
The slime inside the vat was thoroughly infused with automation. Mobile silver flecks began to appear suspended within the translucent goop, and the material started to writhe and form of its own volition. The girls started pushing and shoving each other, throwing handfuls of the goop at each other, like the snowball fights I remember from my childhood what seems like hundreds of years ago.
The floor of The Vat must be quite slippery, as the Partons began to slip and slide as they struggled to avoid the projectiles of their fellow performers. Finally, the inevitable happened: accompanied by a roar from the crowd, one of the girls lost her balance, fell into the writhing fluid with a tremendous splash. She sat up a few moments later, grinning wildly and waving her arms to acknowledge the audience reaction, removing the ribbon from her arm and throwing it to the nearest likely-looking member of the audience. The lucky recipient of this favor, a man in the front row, looked delighted, and wrapped the ribbon around his rock-hard dick to the general approval of his companions and neighbors.
The rest of the troupe converged on the performer who had just emerged from the goop. One of her colleagues flipped her own ribbon from around her neck to bind the ribbon-less girl's wrists. Another tipped her onto her back, and together her partners drew her legs back so that her knees were alongside her enormous breasts.
Now held firmly in place by the two girls, the fallen angel was vigorously - even brutally - pleasured by the remainder of the performers. The girls again scooped up handfuls of the slime, which began to shape itself to form the implement the holder wanted, the pervasive automation sensing the subliminally-expressed need, as always, and reacting accordingly.
One of the angel's assailants massaged her breasts with a double handful, sticky and wet, which then hardened in an instant to clamp hard on her nipples before flowing away. Another formed the material into an oozing dong which she slid with skill and passion into the angel's cunt. She fucked her hard for a few moments, then the dildo collapsed to ooze and flowed back into the tank. Undeterred, the Parton repeated the process with a larger portion of the cream, assisted by a second performer forming a second impromptu dildo to fuck her in the ass.
The lucky girl at the center of all this attention was already having her first orgasm; I imagined she would have two or three more before her colleagues finally released her. The act would, I knew, be repeated with variations until all six girls had had lost their pink ribbons and been fucked senseless, filled by the cream jelly in most every hole.