Phoenix pads along, dressed in his finest tuxedo, brilliant and extravagant and utterly shiny, rare earths glittering. The crotch of his clothing is tailored and further jewel-encrusted to cock-ring around the base of his shaft, holding it erect and proudly so. He pads into Charmbottom, on his best behaviour, and settles down at the large roundtable, where many other guests are already assembled of various outlandish races and some more mundane ones. With quiet, imminent grace, a draconid female encased in liquid diamond sheathing hertorso, perfectly clear and utterly impenetrable, sheathing her enormous F-cup breasts and oversized shaft. "Welcome, sentients! It is a -pleasure- to welcome you to -our- table!" She says, gleefully. "It's such an -honour- to have -so many wonderful people- here with us. As a token of our appreciation, and for your enjoyment, those not already suited for optimal sociability will be corrected shortly!" And with that, small neural clamps are stuck on to the base of everyone's neck, including yours and Phoenix's. Suddenly everyone stiffens and smiles with buddhic neutrality, cocks growing rigid and nipples standing erect.
Eli smiles blankly, and settles himself in to your lap, gently grinding his ass in to your erection to see if it'll slip in comfortably. Nope! He sits side-saddle in your lap instead, cocking his left leg just so as to allow your cock to just between his thighs appropriately as he stares delightedly ahead in to the center of the table. Such a feast of teas await us! Each one, no doubt, holding some exotic and tingling psychoactive designed to bring pleasure, Charminess, or both! The draconid's consort, a male with positively fantastic shaft (like an arm jutting out with closed fist!) and buttocks begging for a tongue to lavish them minces around the table in his high heels - with each step, the heels grow slightly higher, ever so slightly higher, and at each table set, he bends over sharply at the waist, pressing his nipples to his knees as he pours a guest a cup of tea!
Phoenix sits primly in his seat, smiling at you dully, while his tea is poured. He ignores his own shaft, fiercely erect up to his chest, and yours as well, leaning over and daintily plucking up the tea that's been so kindly set before him, holding it in his paws. One must be patient when there are so many to be served! The others smile and begin to make polite conversation, about vibrators and oral technique, without the slightest hint of innuendo. Each tea is quite unique, and there's a fresh, delicate bonechina cup for every guest. By the time the consort makes the full circle, his heels are two feet tall and mere millimetres across, yet he still balances perfectly, mincing along. Summarily, everyone takes a sip of their tea, including you, as if by some unseen signal. The hostess continues to smile broadly and stare, blankly, into space.
As Eli's tongue dips in to the tea, instantly a change pours across him. His fur all lays flat across his body, and his visor pops off (vanishing in a puff of impropriety) as his body is quickly coated in a thick, creamy coat of glistening pearly soft-leather feeling stuff, tasting strongly of sweet cream. His straight-jacket remains firmly in place as he begins to grow somewhat more masculine, muscles becoming prominent and hips slimming. You, in contrast, seem to become quite the femme - your mane growing longer and more flowing, your tits becoming prominent and thick-nippled, your waistcoat straining to retain their basket-ball bulging breasts, your hips broadening (your cock growing wider still!)
Phoenix smiles and bobs her head at the taste and the resultant effects of the tea, smiling a bit wider. "Quite remarkable!" She says, even as her tits strain at the waistcoat, nipples jutting, cock ragingly hard. The urge to fuck is overwhelming, but is suppressed just before the 'action' stage by the politeness-clamps. "It's an exquisite flavour, and the tailoring is wonderful!" She remarks to you, and to her neighbour, a salamander suddenly endowed with a tremendous shaft that hovers before her face, a female now shemale, her tubetress pushed up around her waist just enough to let her shaft jut up. "It is a wonderful blend!" Exclaims the salamander, grinding in her seat, precum dripping steadily from her cocktip. "I should very much like to have a juicy cunt to sink into!" Her neighbours nod and titter in chaste assent, waiting patiently for the tea to come round again, slowly...
The virgin maiden host of the affair (and fantastically she is indeed a virgin, never having felt the touch of another except through a thick layer of concealing latex or chaste diamond, the only flesh to flesh contact that she will permit being that of a tonguetip grinding against the clit-nub that protrudes neatly through her diamond suit) suddenly springs to life and flutters a wand, and a little buzz of electricity leaps between the antennae girding the head of her consort. With a feminine coo, he minces with impossibly delicate precision to her, and twists the heels to allow her to insert the key that gently cranks them down back to managable levels. Indeed, if he ever leaves her and her key behind, he will soon be too crippled by his heels to walk, for not even this deft dragon can prance on heels ten feet high!
The crowds continue to chat back and forth while they wait for the tea to come around again, the male consort mincing back around the table. Bend, pour, lift, twist! Bend, pour, lift, twist! He repeats this movement exactly fourty three times. A very lucky prime number, because it makes seven, which is also a prime number. Such wonderful numerology makes fascinating conversation! Everyone begins to discuss this suddenly obvious implication, the hostess guiding the memetically driven conversation with touches to her wand, smiling wide and staring still ahead, eyes sheathed with diamond. As the tea is poured again, another sip; this time, you can feel your body growing more charmlike, slightly cartoonish in proportion, retaining your masculinity. Also, your skin grows pliant and slick and wet and stretchy like latex, but remains skin nonetheless. You no longer need to blink. Your shaft pulses with eagerness, the veins and contours smoothing and becoming a perfect model of a phallus.
Eli's hips begin to jerk steadily, thrusting whether or not he so deigns to - Of course he deigns to thrust! He's programmed to, now that he's tasted the sugar. Quietly he closes his legs around your cock, stroking it with his own as he jerks and grinds, still gagged. The salamander on your left reaches out with her elbow bent at a precise 60 degrees, and, with pinky fully extended, downs the tea in her china cup with a single motion. Instantly she starts to dribble at the lips, cooing in delight as her creamy drool pours over her cockhead and down in to the gaping head of it, the cock now sucking instead of pumping. Behind you, an open-mouthed Jackal whose needle-teeth are all replaced with gumdrops prances along in spike-pointed ballet slippers, dribbling cum over her bouncy titties as she turns the impalement cranks in all your seats, sliding the dildos first in to the ass and then inflating their heads until you're held in position, so you won't fuck any of the other guests!
Phoenix tenses and bucks mildly as he's held into place by the bulbous heads of the impalers, crooning. Her own body arches and her teats begin to soak through her waistcoat with rich, pheremone-filled and psychotropic laden milk, a bright gum-pink in colour. She coos at it, tossing her mane delightedly as she downs the rest of her tea to fix the effect, nodding in approval of this blend! She then sits with her hands in her lap, smiling at the person across the table from her, a vixenmorph who is busy growing a gleaming imipolex corset out of her waist, and more over most of her joints, constricting her to careful, deliberate movements and positions. She watches you thrust with that same gentle, bemused smile, able to grasp the motion of your hips as fucking, but unable to respond to it. That would be terribly impolite. The hostess pads around the table slowly, and asks each guest in turn, 'Are you enjoying the tea? It's my own special recipe!" in the exact same tone. Some smile and nod and reply and make polite conversation, but always the hostess moves away after exactly twenty three seconds to the next guest.
Next is the crackers! A pretty rubber-skinned spider-dll, glossy pink chitin covering her body, sets before each seat a single platter of white imipolex with a single black cracker upon it, then a single tea cup full of a steaming blue drink. "One must dip the cracker in to the tea," says the whole crowd in unison, suddenly fixed perfectly rigid in position, "And then take a single bite from the cracker, consuming half thereof! Where-upon it shall all be passed one seat to the left, and thine new cracker shall be supped upon as the previous, consuming half thereof! Only whence thine original cracker hast returned shall we finish the cracker!" Several cocks spurt spontaneously as this speech is mechanically and helplessly recited.
Phoenix doesn't even mind that all the crackers are perfectly identical, but she'll know when it's time to finish her cracker again. She daintily picks up the cracker, in unison with everyone else, and dips it carefully into the drink. AS she leans forward, her cock throbs and ejaculates copiously, thick long gouts of her sperm, onto her drenching waistcoat's front, spatters of pink milk oozing down her sides and onto the floor in addition. She pays it no heed, as it would be impolite to interrupt for the sake of a few drops. She dips the cracker, holds it in, and then carefully takes a bite of precisely one-half of the cracker. Everyone's teeth are summarily blunted and rearranged oncontact to make this mathematically precise and perfectly executed.
Eli would presumably be forced to sit out this delightful ritual, but what fun would that be? No, instead he is fitted with a most delightful prosthetic, a pair of doll-like, feminine mechanical arms attached to a long pole (itself attached to the waist by rubberized corsetry) ending with a dildo wedged firmly in the buttocks. It's mere presence makes his cock ooze cream. Thus, he too is brought along to work. With his real arms jutting out from his chest so pertly, he looks almost breasty! At the final bite, you feel yourself freeze utterly solid, and everyone claps merrily. "Looks like Phoenix got the Special Cracker!" say all present besides yourself, smiling upon you as you remain as you were in the exact moment that your teeth touched the minute remnants of your cracker, which indeed had to be held carefully between the tips of two claws.
Phoenix remains motionless and silent, but her cock spasms and ejaculates spontaneously again, without so much as a twitch from her. She overflows into her lap with joy, and would claps in delight if she could, but she can't. Instead, she remains perched with her claws delicately millimetres from her teeth. Milk drips from her enormous breasts, and her eyes stare vacantly ahead. What could possibly be in store for her, as a wonderful extra-special fantastic treat?
Carefully, the party-goers ferry you from hand to hand, each one using you to sake their lusts as politely and chastely as possible. You are made posable, and so the salamander bobs your head up and down on her cock until she gushes in to your throat, the goat boi grinds his new pussy against your tailtip until orgasm, the gecko whose mind is now Fuck Me Please stands up and sits down on your cock until your mind has become Thank You For Fucking Me, the Host and Hostess bounce your bobbly body between their cocks (not even fucking you, just grinding against each other with you between them) until they cum messlessly, their cream pouring around their bodies in special channels in their suits. Then you are returned the way you came, each guest daintily cleaning you off until you are as pristine as the moment you arrived here when you once more land in your seat!
Phoenix, as soon a she's planted back upon her bulbous, jutting impaling-shaft, unfreezes and begins to applaud, along with everyone else, with careful little claps. "Thank you, everyone, what a most delightful experience!" She purrs, while her cock starts to cream voluminously up over her front, pent-up from the endless rounds of fucking she's undergone. She ejaculates steadily without orgasm, smiling gently while thick ropes of cream arc up and spatter her front and face, not even blinking or moving again. After some moments she stops, and then the proceedings continue. The hostess takes the teapot herself this time, and passes around to each guest in turn, a bright lime mixture of tea being poured into their cups, with the addition of a small heart-shaped chocolate balanced precariously on the rim of each saucer. Each of the chocolates is very intricately wrapped in foil. She passes around to each guest in turn,, and with a flick of her wand, it's suddenly very apparent that tearing the incredibly thin foil is Impolite. "The chocolate, and then the tea, my dears!" Sings the hostess, back arched, presenting her succulently suckable, impervious breasts. The chocolate is a tremendous gift; an Orgasm, so generous of her!
Eli reaches out and plucks the the chocolate from the saucer daintily with the long, painted, plastic nails of his prosthetic arms. He, like most of the others, stares mutely at the chocolate with wide, analyzing eyes for a few moments before beginning to unfold it ever so carefully! The tungsten foil is fortunately somewhat resilient to accident, but nonetheless one guest - none other than your Eli! - does accidentally begin to tear it. Before more than a mole of atoms can be parted from each other, however, his entire body freezes, for some chastisement to be delivered publically but acknowledged by none - for to do so would be impolite! You, when you have unfolded your chocolate, and placed it upon your lips, freeze in similar fashion - but it is not imposed, it is simply impossible to think thoughts or move or be anything but there while you are coming so very, very hard! Not a drop of liquid escapes your flesh as you cum - it would be rude!
Phoenix trembles and quakes, and summarily,, every person comes at once, almost in unison, until all are Coming at once. She smiles blissfully, eyes wide and eager as pleasure runs in electric arcs up and down her spine, shaft throbbing dryly, breasts ceasing their overproduction for a moment. With your disappointing impoliteness, you're left to watch motionlessly as all of the others climax in a glorious unison, leaving you pining for that same delicious feeling. But it will not come. The Orgasm is denied to you, the chcoolate forgotten and melting. Slowly, one by one, all regain their senses and movement, and then take a sip of the green tea in unison, afterglow banished in an instant, restoring them to their previous states of arousal and chaste, fierce need. The hostess turns to you and smiles benevolently, and you are gently hefted and passed along the circle until you reach her. "It is unfortunate that you chose not to partake with us, my dear Guest!" She admonishes gently. "But do not worry, you will still recieve my gift, my most special gift of all!" She croons, and then her minion undoes the straightjacket from your still-frozen body, leaving you nude except for clamp and crown. She takes out the smallest of paintbrushes, and oh so carefully, begins to layer you with diamond.
The party yet goes on, as the host and hostess together paint the wayward guest with the nanosembling diamond structure, as the jackal jesters prance along and give the levers another twist every few moments, inflating the knots in your ass another minute millimeter more, as the flirtatious fairies flounce among you, sitting from lap to lap and forcefully making out with the guests, never being recognized (that would be so improper), even when they aggressively mount your face and rut in to your throat. A final course is served, a single dainty danish. What will happen when you eat it? Who knows! You're not to eat it until Eli is finished being painted by your delightful hosts!
And the painting is oh so delicate; you can feel the memetic patterns being drawn upon your skin like arcane runes in flawless diamond coating; the painting takes minutes, drags on easily into hours. But every minute is a tremendously suspenseful pleasure for you. Finally, the last touches are applied, and with a flourish, the Host hoists you up and places you, with precision, in the middle of the table. You've been posed into a midair leap of grace, perfect in form and composition down to the millimetre. Your arms are spread as wings fore and back, your legs apart and tail hiked, shaft jutting out between your legs beautifully. Your mouth is parted optimally for one to fuck your face, and you may not even blink anymore. With a final daub of the brush, the diamond solidifies into a single layer over you, and simultaneously activates all of the runes over your skin. You begin to Orgasm, most beautifully and excruciatingly intense orgasm you've ever had. Your shaft boils with seed, but it can no longer escape, save for fractions of ounces at a time, a tiny channel carved up your chest to your mouth. The cum creeps up your chest in a nearly invisible white line and enters your parted lips, and you taste yourself, fueling your neverending, neverlessening, never acclimating orgasm all the more. You're a perfect art deco piece, a statue upon the table. To accentuate your form, breasts swell, your waist constricts, your face turns into the beautiful visage of a china doll...one small idea from each guest, plucked mischeviously by the fae, is integrated into you. You become a sum of parts, 43 parts exactly, a beautiful thing to all present. Polite applause surrounds you.
Then, at last, the party must end, as all things do. As the cum-pumping dolly is lowered to position as the centerpiece of the table, each of you eats your danish - and as you do, instantly the clamps spring off and the memetic invitations that brought you here are deactivated. But not so for Eli, and any who would wish to take him, to fuck him, is surely welcome to do so! Instantly a line forms, a solid line of cock extending almost as far as the table is across, all eager to pound between his pert dolly-lips.