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Attention Seekers

by foolstop 07/12/18

This is a last-minute entry for the Nude-Day contest. I'm barely (foolishly) getting it in under the wire. So, please, please cast your vote to ensure that I receive enough to qualify. -- Thanks amuch, // FoolStop


"Who did you have to kill to get these seats?" I asked Becky. We were dead center, about three-quarters of the way up. This was our third date and it was her idea to go see a TV show being taped. I was happy with how things were going so far. I think she was, too.

"Just random luck, Steve." As she took her seat, she flashed me a nice bit of thigh before getting her dress adjusted.

"Maybe this is a good omen for us. We should try our luck in Vegas next."

She gave me a funny look. Oops. I was just making a joke, but after I said it, I realized the implication of a Vegas trip meant at least an overnight stay. It was too soon to be hinting about that. "Er, well, not next, but sometime..." I added, lamely. Fortunately, I was saved by the bell as the house lights dimmed.

A young Asian male and a young Asian female emerged from opposite sides of the stage. They were wearing matching navy blue suits and bright blue neckties, and they were both carrying microphones. The man took off to roam the audience, while the lady remained on stage, smiling brightly.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Melody and that's my twin brother, Joseph." Joseph waved from where he stood in the aisle. Melody continued, "We'll start taping in about ten minutes. In the meantime, I'd like to remind you that you need to power down your cell phones completely. Don't just put them on vibrate. And there is absolutely no photography or audio recording of any kind allowed." She went on to point out the Applause and Silence signs, which lighted up in green and red, respectively, and had us quickly practice. "Now, everyone, please settle into your seats. We will begin in five ... four ... three ..." She didn't verbalize the two or one, just held up her fingers.

Over the loudspeakers came a baritone voice, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the pilot episode of Attention Seekers, a new political commentary show like nothing you've seen before. This show is being brought to you on the Cinemax premium channel. Cinemax is giving us a free rein to be as outrageous as we want. We feel that's important because the news these days is constantly outrageous, and it begs for an equal response. You'll see what we mean in just a few moments."

"And now, here's your host, Peter Winslow..."

A spotlight popped on and the curtain opened to reveal a rather plain talk-show set. There was no desk, and no couch, just five bar stools arranged in a semicircle. Next to each stool was a small stand with a water glass and a cordless microphone.

Peter Winslow was seated on the center stool. He wore what appeared to be a black graduation robe, except there was no mortarboard hat, or maybe it was meant to be a judge's robe.

Peter picked up his microphone. ``Greetings. Those of you who hail from New York might recognize me from the nightly news. For those of you who don't know me, let's just say that I'm rather famous for keeping an open mind. I'll try anything once, and I've been known to push the envelope on what's normally considered sacrosanct or taboo. Tonight, I've invited four special guests to join me who are just as, um, free spirited. Let's meet them now.

"This singer songwriter is famous for having multiple number one hits at the same time on both the pop and country billboards. Let's give a big hand for Gracie Murdock." The lovely, thirty-five year old redhead walked on stage wearing a robe similar to Peter's, except hers was a shimmery violet color. She also had a guitar slung around her neck. She took the stool to Peter's right, nodded to the audience, and strummed a quick riff from her hit song, Crazy Town.

"Our next panelist is a versatile actor whose inspiring portrayal of George Washington Carver on PBS earned him an Emmy, but he's better known for playing the goofy Mr. Fiddlesticks in Carnival Capers. It's Aaron Winters, everyone." Aaron was a tall, thin, black man with curly hair, gold rimmed glasses, and a bright white smile. His robe was a neon yellow. He did a classic Fiddlesticks pratfall on his way to the stool on Peter's left.

"If you are ever asked to think of a brooding, compulsive, introspective cop, the obvious character that comes to mind is Detective Sergeant Xander Dixon on Austin PD. Here's Dixon himself, Mr. Bradley Gibson." The short, brawny, bald headed actor paused at center stage and bowed before taking the stool next to Gracie. His robe was dark orange, almost brown.

"And last, but not least, you knew her as little Daisy in the Disney Channel series, Dollhouse Tales. Now, she's all grown up and making her name as an action heroine. Please welcome, Charlene Rainy." A bubbly young woman in a red robe entered the stage. A long, blond ponytail floated in her wake as she waved to the audience and strode gracefully up to the last remaining stool.

"These four panelists are all keen observers of what's going on in the world today, and passionate about trying to make things better in one way or another. Tonight, we'll be giving them a forum to speak their minds on various subjects and see if we can't elevate the public discourse on those topics, at least a little, before we're done. Now, let's light up the agenda board."

A large monitor at the back of the stage came on. The screen was divided into four squares. At first, each square showed the Attention Seeker's logo, but then words began to spin in each slot like a Wheel of Fortune machine. The first square settled on "Gender Parity." The next square became "Voter Rights." The third and fourth squares landed on "Tax Reform" and "Gun Violence."

"Who wants to go first?"

"I will." Gracie looked sheepish for a millisecond, but then picked up her mic and confidently addressed us. "Hello. Do I have any fans here tonight?" The applause sign lit up unnecessarily. The enthusiasm was genuine.

"Um, before I begin, there's something I need to do."

At that point our hostess, Melody, came back on stage. She looked different. I realized that she had taken off her suit jacket and tie. Her shirt was half unbuttoned, exposing quite a bit of tantalizing cleavage and the hint of a lacy black bra. She placed a guitar stand on the floor next to Gracie's stool.

Gracie deposited her guitar into it, then stood up. She then unzipped her robe and let it drop to the floor. The whole audience gasped, for Gracie was completely naked underneath.

I felt Becky stiffen next to me, and I stole a glance at her. "Did you know about this?" I whispered.

All she gave me in response was a micro-shrug that could have meant anything. I took her hand in a what I hoped was a reassuring touch.

Two trolley cams panned the audience and I watched the monitors as one caught an elderly woman covering her eyes with both hands for a second. The director then switched to a googlie-eyed nerd. A moment later, they switched back to the main camera which still showed a full-body shot of Gracie. She took two steps closer to us while Melody quickly scooped up the discarded purple robe and made off with it.

Gracie mugged for the camera, acting like a fashion model and facing a different portion of the audience with each pose. The constant physical activity of her lively stage performances kept her in great shape. There was not an ounce of fat anywhere except for her ample breasts, which bounced enticingly with every move. And, yes, her fiery red locks came naturally.

She hitched her hips back up on her stool and picked up her microphone. "Now that I have your attention..." She paused for laughter. "I want to talk about gun violence." The corresponding square on the agenda board turned purple.

"However, I don't just want to reiterate the things that everyone else keeps saying." She rattled off some of the standard talking points from both sides of the debate. "Something has to be done, but we need to be realistic. Trying to ban guns is a losing battle. The manufacturers are just too powerful and even when some kind of a ban gets created, they always find a loophole around it. So, I say we need to put our efforts into things like safety precautions. Gun owners need to step up and pledge to keep their weapons out of the hands of children — and of the mentally disturbed — by using trigger locks and gun safes, and such."

"On the other hand, those of you who don't like guns should step up and learn how to shoot them, just so you know what you're talking about. In other words, like any other conflict in this world, we each need to be sympathetic to the other side; to put ourselves in their shoes; to educate ourselves and find ways to compromise."

Gracie went on for about ten minutes, naming specific organizations around the country that she supported, what their specific objectives were, and how the public can help. With that, she set her mic back down and looked at Peter.

"Thank you, Gracie for that thought-provoking editorial, and for so boldly setting the dress code for those who wish to take the floor. Speaking of which, it would seem that I'm overdressed if I want to keep speaking. Hold on a sec..."

Peter stood up. Gracie used her fingers to tap out a drum roll on the body of her guitar while Peter removed his robe to show that he was also naked underneath.

The medium-height man was stout; neither muscular, nor overweight, just average. His cock was average size, as well. It was surrounded by thick, black, pubic hair that completely hid his testicles. In fact, dark hair covered his entire body.

Becky involuntarily squeezed my arm and took in a shallow breath at the sight of his nudity. I looked at her and she gave me a guilty smile.

Melody once again swooped in and carried away the robe. This time, her shirt was gone altogether, revealing pert breasts barely encased in black lace. They bounced, ever so slightly, in time with the tap-tap sounds her high heels made against the wooden floor.

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