Put on a show

"Stand on the table," Clara said.

Rose squeaked.

"I want everyone to see you," Clara said. "Only fair. I can hardly keep you to myself can I?"

Rose whimpered, but she still obeyed, flustered but still subject to what the Land had done to her. She stood up for a moment, then lifted a bare leg up onto the table surface, first kneeling and then pushing herself up to her feet, still stark naked.

Her pussy was eye level, a fact that clearly made her squirm, but she still stood with her hands behind her back. A barely-there layer of blonde fuzz did little to hide the lips of one of her most private spots, and it wasn't as though that was all that was visible.

Anyone further away now suddenly had a much easier chance to see her chest. Both her tits, utterly exposed, utterly visible, and worse now she was facing out she could see all the people looking at her, who were both seeing her now and who'd been staring at her ass before.

She shrieked at another encouraging pat on the ass from Clara.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Rose squeaked.

She looked down, then looked up again, feet never still as she coped with being even more the centre of attention.

"Doing what?" Clara said innocently. "I just wanted to say well done for being so obedient. Really makes this place a lot of fun."

On the table beside her was the watching Rose, unseen by all the partygoers, still bent over and still with her ass pushed out; both the Ghost of Christmas Present and the watching Clara didn't know which to look at.

"Milk of human kindness?" the Ghost said suddenly, offering a flask to Clara. She raised her eyebrows.

"What- right. That was a thing in some version," Clara said. She took a sip, eyes widening. "Nice. Don't suppose you've got any milk of human embarrassment or something?"

"Sorry, that's the Ghost of Bacchanalia Present's department," the Ghost said. He took the flask back and gulped it himself.

"There's a-" Clara began, then cut herself off. "Of course there is. Forgot where I was for a moment."

She paused for a moment, tilting her head as she took in the scene, her expression almost a mirror of her vision self.

"Hey, Rose," Clara said. "Stand up again. And don't worry about keeping your arms behind your back."

Rose gasped in relief, straightening for a second before swiftly turning around and hunching over, arms clutched over her front for the first time in hours of exposure. She crossed one over her tits, desperation making her push a little too hard and only heightening the appearance of her cleavage, while the other arm she pushed inwards to try and cover with her chest and to hold a shaking hand over her pussy.

"Th-thank you," Rose said, breathlessly. "Thank you."

"Now get on the table," Clara said. She smiled; "I want a comparison. See how you want to act, and how you'll act just because I asked nicely."

Rose stared but, nevertheless, had to obey. She climbed up onto the table just beside her proudly displayed self, though rather than offering a full-frontal (and rear for that matter) view she was desperately wriggling and trying vainly to fit her whole body behind her arms.

Two beet-red blondes side by side. Now this was why Clara loved travelling with the Doctor.

"Give us a twirl," the vision-Clara said; both Claras obeyed, the real Rose unable to tell who'd spoken. Both Roses gave identical squeals as the room got to see every little bit of her.

Clara still wasn't sure whether she wanted to go through this when the morning came. When all was said and done she'd already seen it now; even so, there was definitely something appealing about putting Rose through the same experience twice.

Especially given how she was reacting now, arms futilely trying to get what little modesty her utterly nude body could. Compared to the other, who was just as embarrassed but still kept trembling hands behind her back.

Ooh, this was fun.

"Goodness gracious me," one of the Victorians exclaimed. "I, uh, was going to suggest parlour games but I see we have an entirely different kind of entertainment."

Rose whimpered.

"I've got the things necessary for blind man's bluff ready," said a well-suited man, presumably a host.

"Blindfolds!" the bared Rose said, voice high. "Blindfolds are good! You can put them on!"

There was a general murmur of discontent. Clara beamed.