Attention Seekers

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

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"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.

"As I was saying, thank you, Gracie, for kicking this off. Okay, who would like to go next?"

The other panelists all looked at each other, their eyes darting back and forth, but none spoke up. Then, the three remaining squares on the agenda board started flashing randomly. Eventually, it settled on Gender Parity, which turned red.

"I guess that's me," said Charlene, shrugging her shoulders at the inevitable. When she dropped her robe, every guy in the audience whistled and cheered. In her last movie, she spent half the time running around in a tiny bikini. This was ten times better. Not only did we get to see what the bikini hid, but with no action blur and no frantic editing cuts, we got to study every inch of her body to our hearts' content as she just stood there on stage. Charlene was not a natural blonde. We knew that from her dark eyebrows, and the dark brown pelt between her legs confirmed it, but no one cared. She was drop dead gorgeous, a 10+.

When Melody came through to abscond with Charlene's red robe, that black lace bra was gone. Her firm young breasts hardly bounced any more than they had with the bra.

The audience applauded them both, and it went on for a good long while, even after the Silence sign lit up. Charlene just smiled and waved throughout. Finally, she could get a word in edgewise. "So, you guys like what you see, huh? You appreciate the female form? Isn't it nice that there are women in this world? What would you guys do if suddenly every woman on Earth disappeared? Poof! Gone! Well, for one thing, you'd all die off eventually without any offspring. But even before that, you'd probably kill each other. Life just wouldn't be worth living without your better halves."

"Of course, that will never happen, it's just a thought experiment, an extreme worse-case-scenario if you will. The point is, our lives depend on each other, men and women, in so many different ways — from the literal sense of reproduction to the abstract sense of emotional support. When our men and women go off to war, it's their husbands and wives, sons and daughter who they are fighting for. We have an equal hand in life, shouldn't we both enjoy an equal standing in respect? I mean, my God, this is the twenty-first century. The time for enlightenment is upon us. Yes, men and women have certain differences, certain strengths and weaknesses, but in this modern age those differences are trivial and easily compensated, and in fact ought to be celebrated."

While she spoke, a second monitor was lowered into place next to the agenda board. It came to life with the image of an ugly, naked man. He had splotchy body hair, crazy mismatched eyebrows, a weak nose, and an odd smile. He also had man boobs despite not being overweight. It was hard to look at.

Then, the image morphed, dissolved, and separated into two people. The left side became the image of our moderator, Peter Winslow, and the right side became Charlene Rainy, herself.

"See what I mean about celebrating our differences?" The morphing animation repeated, merging the two naked bodies back into one, and everyone booed. Then, it reversed, splitting Peter and Charlene apart once more, but this time their images moved about. The Charlene image started running in place, while the Peter image stood and flexed his arm muscles. Then Peter stopped and pointed to his head and looked up as if he'd gotten a bright idea, while Charlene pantomimed juggling and being pulled in different directions. Then the Charlene acted out getting a better idea, while the Peter pretended to turn a wrench.

Each of them rotated through three or four more memes like that, while the live Charlene went on. "Mathematicians make a distinction between two things being exactly equal and two things being equivalent. An apple is not exactly equal to an orange, but to a starving person they are equivalent. Historically, what men and women have contributed to this world may not be exactly the same, apples to apples, but it's high time we recognize that our contributions are equivalent. We deserve equivalent respect. We deserve equivalent opportunities. We deserve equivalent pay."

Charlene then discussed the myriad charities that she thought were worth supporting, just as Gracie had done, before returning to her stool and giving Peter back the floor.

He simply said, "Thank you Charlene. Now, it's time for a break so that our Cinemax overlords can plug some upcoming features. We'll be right back." Gracie played a few bars from another of her tunes as the curtain came down.

Over the speakers, a woman's voice said, "...and cut. Everyone take ten."

Joseph came back on stage and addressed us. "Let's all take a seventh inning stretch. Stand up and move your arms about." We all did.

At the same time, his sister came out to stand next to him, still topless. She looked down at herself, and then at her brother who was still fully dressed, and shook her finger at him as if to say, "shame on you."

He put on an exaggerated look of chagrin, then removed his coat and handed it to her. As he pulled open his necktie, a few of the women in the audience catcalled to him and began chanting, "Take it off. Take it off." He kept going, removing his shirt and his undershirt, until he was down to just his pants and his shoes, like his sister. He was in great shape, with muscular arms and six-pack abs. The women kept chanting for him to take off more, but Melody was apparently satisfied for the moment and wandered off with what he had removed.

Joseph spoke to us again. "Now, before you sit back down, I want you to turn to the side and hug the person next to you. Now, turn the other way and do it again. Those of you on the ends, feel free to reach across the aisles. Let's have a big show of bipartisanship." He laughed at his own joke.

Becky and I hugged, and I kissed her on the cheek. When I let go, she held on to me for just a moment longer, and I took that as a good sign.

To her left was a college-aged girl who was there with an older cousin. The ladies group-hugged quickly, and then the younger one scooched over and gave me a hug. In the meantime, the nice old lady to my right waited patiently for her turn with me. While we embraced, the lady looked over my shoulder at Becky and said to her, "Quite a catch you have here." I imagined her winking with a conspiratorial look.

Becky said, "So far, so good." When we sat back down, Becky wrapped both of her hands around my arm, possessively.

The house lights dimmed and a spotlight came up as Melody emerged from the gap in the curtain. Her pants were gone. She was down to just a lacy black thong and her high heels. The Silence sign came on, and people shushed each other. "Are we ready to resume?" she asked, looking back and forth across the audience. "Good. We're back in five ... four ... three ..." She walked towards stage right as she spoke, doing the two-finger thing just as she disappeared into the wings. The curtain opened, and the panelists were all there, just as they were, with Peter, Gracie, and Charlie naked while Aaron and Bradley still wore their robes.

Aaron went next, on the topic of voter rights. Being a guy, I wasn't so excited to see him strip naked. I was more interested in seeing that Melody had removed her panties before scooping up the yellow robe. My eyes were glued to her ass as she wiggled away to stage left in just her heels.

I have to admit that I mostly tuned out what Aaron had to say, as well, although a few bits did get through to me. I paid attention when he rattled off some ugly examples of recent voter suppression. I knew there were problems with this, but he made it sound like it was still just as widespread as back in the 60's, just with more modern dirty tactics.

I again lost interest when he started naming things we could do about it, although I promised myself I'd look into it later. For the moment, I couldn't help but dart my eyes back and forth between studying Charlene's nimble body some more and Gracie's voluptuous one.

Eventually, I realized that Aaron and Bradley had switched places, and Melody was heading back on stage in anticipation of collecting Bradley's orange robe. She, of course, had progressed to losing her heels and was now completely naked, not that I considered that to be an improvement, but to each his own, I guess.

There was a collective gasp among the audience when Bradley unzipped his robe and a monster cock popped out. Even flaccid, it was huge, at least nine inches long and as thick as a Louisville slugger. Well, maybe not that thick, but yeah. Becky jolted back in her seat and inhaled then slowly exhaled. The applause for Bradley went on for the same amount of time beyond the lighting of the Silence sign as it did for Charlene. When he began to speak about tax reform, it was Becky's turn to tune out. I did catch a few of his points, but only because it was already a hot topic with me and I agreed with him one hundred percent.

As Bradley was wrapping up, Joseph appeared from the back of the audience and came down the aisle. He was now completely naked. He stopped at the bottom and turned towards us, taking up station there. His penis was thin and smooth, and circumcised. If there was ever a "wiener" that lived up to the name, this one did. His beautiful sister came out and took up station in the other aisle. She gave him a wink.

In the meantime, Bradley perched himself back on his stool, and Peter thanked him. "We will now entertain questions from the audience."

The house lights came up, and eager hands shot up everywhere.

Peter waved us down. "Woah, Nelly. That's a lot of questions. We're going to have to prioritize. Hmm, tell you what. If you want to ask your question, you gotta show us some skin. Take off as much as you dare and then move to the aisle. The more skin you show, the sooner Melody and Joseph will get to you."