A transparent robe and a pair of fuzzy slippers

The boy is left speechless. He touches those garments as if he is doubtful of their existence. The scene is a bit strange with K-T naked, feeling the robe and the soft silver fur of the slippers. He turns towards the butlers, who barely hide their smirks, and says.

-That's it? I don't have to go to sleep, do i? I expected an elegant suit in line with this place?

The butlers size him up from head to toe and then one of them, spreading his arms, replies.

-It's normal not to really know how the true powerful dress and behave. Those with a very high social status like your on this evening do not have to conform to dress codes. One vip can present hisself as he wishes, and to emphasize this, he must break the normal social conventions. Showing in this way highlights the difference between the true VIP and everyone else.

K-T in a low voice wanting to be heard but without exaggerating.

-Maybe, but I'm starting to fear that it's just a joke. (I can't imagine Musk and his billionaire buddies doing the helicopter with their penises) - he only thinks the last part. But still unsure whether to leave or play along believing what they told him, he stays there watching the two butlers who enjoy the view and don't rush the dressing.

They appreciate the physique of that young man. In fact, if it were up to them, they wouldn't just look at him but would reach out their hands, slip their fingers between his buttocks, caress his penis, willingly squeeze his testicles, and lick them. Slowly, K-T also becomes aware of this inspection, and the discomfort he feels, being scanned by these burly men as if they were creating a 3D model of his naked body, transmits to his lower parts. There is no movement, and the flaccid penis rests between the legs. It always makes an impression, but it's like Bruce Banner before the transformation into Hulk. When erect, every vein is taut like violin strings that stand out against the stretched skin of his shaft. The hood retracts like a convertible top, and the glans bursts forth with its fiery red dome.

-Do you happen to know a certain Emily?

K-T bursts out, realizing that he has been naked for far too long under those x-ray, no, xxx-ray gazes, and so he covers himself by stepping behind the robe still on the golden hanger.

-Do you mean Princess of Holland Emily Van Der Boost? - they ask.

-No, my sister who has the bad habit of playing pranks on me.

They burst out laughing but then immediately apologize, realizing they have been disrespectful. They even ask for forgiveness.

-Anyway, just to be safe, I'm not going out there in the hall with the others in a bathrobe and slippers. I'll put my rags back on - he says with a determination he's never had before. An obstacle is becoming apparent, and I, behind the partition taking photos and listening, can't do much to help remove it. Fortunately, the butlers take care of it.

-The clothes she was wearing have been burned. Either you allow us to serve and honor you, giving you an evening fit for a truly important person, celebrated by the crème de la crème of our usual clientele who await your entrance into the salon, or we have to ask you to leave, let's say, in your birthday suit.

K-T thinks for a moment and then understands the meaning. They are telling him that if he doesn't continue with the event prepared for him, he will have to leave the venue naked.

Not that it's a novelty for K-T, but he decides to trust the whole thing and believe that the powerful walk around in slippers and with their butts hanging out or almost. The butlers applaud his choice and finally proceed to put the robe on him.

The difference is truly minimal between being naked as a moment before and wearing that ultra-transparent fabric in the next moment. The penis remains calm, and i wonder as a photographer if i should help it in some way. Probably, it's something that Emily, aware of the ease of erection in embarrassment, never considered. Was the presence of those men perhaps excessive? And it continues to be so.

They indeed bend down like vassals to put on his slippers and meanwhile, from that privileged position, they look up from below to the center of his legs. They lift his right leg first and then the left more than necessary to sneak a peek at the testicles, which i know are quite large, and the sleeping penis from below, which they only brush with their faces.

I envy them because by shifting their gaze a bit, which I'm sure they will do, they can catch a glimpse of the curves of his backside and maybe even a hint of that anus that is increasingly occupying my less-than-professional thoughts. To have something similar to look at, I'll have to wait for K-T to sit at her table.

I let them exit and, as a good photographer, I reach my new position. From here, i enjoy K-T's entrance amidst thunderous applause. They quickly seat him, responding saving him for now from being exposed to the public, and i, without being seen, extract a monitor connected to the camera placed under his table, capable of framing the peek-a-boo of his balls and penis.

The robe currently acts as a shield, just like the less-than-ideal shadow created by the table. I don't have the time to find a solution that guarantees better material, and I hope that as usual, Emily has anticipated the inconvenience.

That's exactly it. Waiters bring him, on the usual silver and shiny trays, a delicious appetizer of raw tartare made from exquisite fish. The ever-present butlers explain to him that some of the species on his plate are endangered.

It's not true, but K-T doesn't argue; it seems normal to him that it's tuna and not dolphin. It is then that one of the attendees approaches. He introduces himself with a bow that allows him to peer beyond the veil covering K-T's genitals.

-I am one of the CEOs of SW2099.