On Being Shown

 Chapter one,  What was I thinking?

Kurt’s body shivered, both from being naked and cold but also from the anticipation of what he was about to do.  He pulled a robe out of his duffel and quickly put it on.  

It was only a week ago that he’d answered an ad in the school newspaper.  The subject line has caught his attention his eyes the body of the ad has caught the attention of his dick.

               

NUDE MALE VOLUNTEER WANTED

                Female art student needs a male model for final project.

    Can’t afford to hire anyone.  Prepare to be totally nude for some time under her gaze and  

    direction.

Kurt thought for a full half second before he whipped out his phone and sent a submission to the email address on the ad.  She replied later that night and since then he’d been a nervous excited mess, alternating between a hard erection and “what have I done” thinking. 

He heard her shout his name and snapped out of his reverie.  She strode into the hallway and looked him up and down.  “What’s with the robe?  I thought my ad was very clear about the “Totally Nude” part.  Wasn’t it?”  He gulped and managed to stammer out some words about undressing on the modeling set.  

“Nonsense.  In my studio, models never wear clothes – ever.”  Then she pulled the robe off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.  Even though she appeared to be his age or even a bit younger, she commanded her studio with a confidence usually borne by a person decades older.  “Let’s see what we have here to deal with” she said as she circled around him.  When she was directly behind him, she slapped his butt hard and demanded that he spread his legs apart.   “There’s no reason for you to try to hide anything from me.  I see it all and so will my audience. Bend over I want to see how far you hang and if that’s an angle I can use”.  Kurt was shocked at the butt slap and could feel the heat coming off his skin, but complied with her exacting – no nonsense instructions.  He wasn’t sure why he was going along with this, especially as a volunteer, but he suddenly felt that he was no longer in control of his destiny.

She grabbed him by the upper arm “come on, Show Boy (apparently she felt the need to name him herself) let’s get you on the stand and see what you got”.  She led him into the studio and had him step up on an elevated platform.   She pulled a wheeled chair around in front of him and sat down so that her eyes were at his waist level.  She directed him in several different poses before saying “I’m sorry Show Boy, but I don’t think this is going to work.  My audience is pretty discerning and well they are used to seeing something a little …. Larger.”  WHAT? Kurt was shocked.  He’d never been accused of being small and was sure that he wasn’t, but this young smart ass artist was accusing him of exactly that.  Even though he was mentally off balance, Kurt managed to fumble out that he was much more of a grower than a shower and wasn’t small then.  The artist leaned back in her chair, put her hands behind her head and said “OK, show me”.

Kurt’s face flushed hotter than his butt slap as he realized what she was telling him to do.   Of course he wasn’t a stranger to masturbation, engaging in it fairly often as a healthy young single man, but it was always alone and private.  He’d never done it in front of someone, especially not a young woman who seemed to assume command of all his privacy.   While his head was spinning with these thoughts, the artist reached around behind the chair and brought out a camera.  “What are you doing, what’s that for”, Kurt stammered.  

“My girlfriends enjoy helping me select my models” she said. “They’ll especially enjoy watching you stroke yourself – most models don’t have to do that.”  

With the realization of what she was telling him to do and how she’d be sharing photos of him pleasuring his cock with other women, Kurt started to harden involuntarily.   He could feel it stiffen and  unfold.  Watching this take place, the artist smiled to herself “hmm, it looks like being shown turns him on … I can use that”.

 

Woodpeckers - for the erotic woman

The Masturbation Contest:

She was simply the most elegant, confident woman I’ve ever seen. She moved towards us from across the room as if she owned it – which I later found out to be a fact. I stood there naked and staring at her appearance. She had dark hair, smoky brown eyes, wore little make up (because she didn’t need any) ; all set off by a silky cream colored blouse clinging to generous curves and blue jeans so form fitting I could count the change in her front pocket. A single strand of pearls disappeared into her cleavage. She was about 5’9” with long legs and she moved with a confident, but very feminine stride. She only made eye contact with Jen and ignored my presence entirely. When she got in front of us, she put one hand against my chest which somehow served to not only maintain a certain distance but also kept me in her control. She greeted Jen “Welcome, I’m Rose the owner of Woodpeckers for Women. Thanks for being here tonight and for bringing entertainment to share”. Jen thanked her for the invitation and continued to make small talk about the room while Rose moved her free hand around to my back and used it to inspect my shoulders, back and buns. When that inspection was complete to her satisfaction, she slid her other hand down from my chest to my penis, which she then wrapped in a firm grip while she continued chatting with Jen. I quickly began to stiffen involuntarily and I could feel a hot flush in my face – I didn’t want to have to enter a roomful of women and a few of their male “dates” sporting an erection!

“Oh”, Rose said, “this one’s nicely responsive. Be sure to enter him in the masturbation race tonight, OK? I’m going to go place a small bet on him!” Jen assured her that she wouldn’t think of withholding me from the race and a chance for the other women to see me perform. And with that, Rose left us to greet other newly arrived guests.

If I was already in a state of semi arousal after being, literally, “man-handled” by Rose, the walk through the room to our table maintained my penis elevation! Woodpecker’s is a private club for women. The women who belong to the club make the rules and men are there solely for their entertainment – and to be shared. I was reminded of this by several of the women who pinched, or squeezed me as I tried to keep up with Jen. Our table was towards the dance floor and stage and we had to walk past the bar and down an isle to get there. At the bar, one of the females, a stylish 30 something, reached out and stopped me. She commanded that I stand in front of her and her friend with my legs spread while they got their chance to “inspect”. I gathered from their conversation that some friendly wagering went on over the “masturbation race” and a great deal of speculation went on about the various merits of each of the male contestants. Obviously, my name had been entered – probably by Rose. The women at the bar handled my penis and examined it for length, thickness, and veins while checking to see if there were bumps or imperfections that might sway the race – one way or the other. They finished their inspection by batting my penis back and forth with the palms of their hands to check for responsiveness. And while their public attention was disconcerting, I felt embarrassed for their male entrant who was made to watch them handle me and told several times that he didn’t “measure up” and would have to “really perform”.

The rules of the club had been made evidently clear upon our arrival. I was with Jen and two of her party-girl friends, Lisa and Ariel. As usual they had said nothing of the evening’s festivities, but answered my questions with “it’s a surprise”. Nothing about the club’s exterior gave away its purpose. It was an old brownstone – like the many others in this neighborhood – with a large archway over a dark red door. A simple sign hung over the doorbell, “Woodpeckers – for the Erotic Woman”. When I asked, Jen said simply “it’s a new club for women, and a few of their special dates” but upon being let into the club, it’s sheer size and amount of activity was shocking. There was a full bar manned by nude male bartenders and servers – but all wearing a dark red bowtie the same color as the door. A dance floor with a DJ – and several of the men were currently dancing to one of the new songs, a fast number, which made their balls and penis bounce up and down and back and forth. Off to the side with clear, floor to ceiling windows was a small but modern locker room. The girls led me there as soon as we entered and explained the rules. “JerBear” Jen said, “I know what you like and you’re going to like this a lot! But here’s the deal. You have to be naked the whole time you’re here. A woman can ask you for anything and you have to oblige her – or she can punish you. She can grab your balls or humiliate you anyway she wants. So, just do what any woman wants and you can enjoy a hall full of women watching and touching you. Now, take off your clothes and give them to me, I’ll let you have them back when us girls are ready to go”. With that, I slipped out of my shirt, pants and underwear and handed them over to Lisa. She put them in a locker and deposited the key in her pocket. “You’re probably going to be pretty busy for a while JerBear, if you have to use the facility there always has to be at least one, and preferably two females with you. Do you have to go?” “Well, kind of” I said. Jen and Lisa led me over to the urinal and watched closely while I was going – before I was done, Jen pulled my hand back and she took over the aiming duties. Lisa got a kick out of the way Jen was pointing my spray in little arcs – but was nice enough to shake off all the drops when I was done. There were two other groups of females getting their male undressed. And after seeing Jen’s bold initiative they demanded their same from their male. One of the poor guys wasn’t able to go – probably because of all the visual and manual attention from 6 or more women - his female handlers got quite upset at this non-performance to a female request. One of the women from the other group got quite indignant, reached over and grabbed his balls and chastised him for nonperformance for females. She actually lectured him on bad behavior, lack of respect and accused him of not being man enough for his females. I left the lockers with Jen and Lisa but now understood the rules at Woodpeckers”!

Back at our table, the girls were comfortably seated in low chairs with padded leather upholstery; I was standing - as were all the other males. This seating arrangement afforded the females an opportunity to comfortably look, stare or grab the balls or penis of any man near them. The girls were drinking “naked waiters”, a strong concoction but one which always generated snickers and giggles upon ordering. Our waiter was a young man, quite well built and with an unusually long dick, wearing the dark green bow tie uniform and nothing else. As he bent to set the drinks down in front of the girls, Jen took the opportunity to grab and stroke his penis. He took the attention well and stood patiently until Jen signaled she was satisfied by reaching for her drink, and then went back to the bar. Jen raised her clear blue eyes to mine and asked “think you could beat him JerBear?” I wasn’t sure what she meant, or if she was even being serious because she was trying to suppress a smile. Lisa let out a little gasp “Yes Jen – Do it!” she said. I was at a loss, “do what, beat him at what?” I stammered out. “Well”, Jen said slyly, “at the masturbation race of course!” I hadn’t agreed to be in the race, and no one had asked me, I just assumed that at some point I had a decision to make about it. But now I realized that with the rules at Woodpeckers, I was in the race and had no choice in the matter. I could feel the heat rushing to my face in a deep blush as I realized that every woman in the room, including Jen, Lisa, and Ariel were going to watch me masturbate and cum. I was completely stripped of my clothes and now I was to be stripped of whatever dignity I still thought I had.

Ariel had been listening to our conversation, but had her eyes glued to the dance floor where a tall man with dark complexion was swaying back and forth to the music. His penis was long and slender and slapped against his thigh at each change of direction. “It’s OK JerBear” she said, “I’m going to bet on you, but I’m going to thoroughly enjoy the competition too!” I gulped and swallowed hard. Even though I was deeply embarrassed, I could feel my penis start to stiffen at the thought of what I was about to do.

Our well hung waiter returned with more drinks and Jen once again took the opportunity to fondle his massive tool. He was young, not shy and very professional – pausing in his work to give Jen the time she desired. I could feel a slight twinge of jealousy at her obvious delight, but I couldn’t honestly feel deprived of female attention. Just then the DJ cut the music and took the microphone to announce that the masturbation race was about to begin. It was “ladies’ choice” (of course), females could choose to either take any male from the room, lead him to the stage and “race” him to masturbatory orgasm or they could select a male who would go to the stage and race “solo” bringing himself to the finish. Females had already placed bets on the males they thought would win, so there was much enthusiasm and excitement in the room at the announcement.

“I’m taking this one to the stage” said Jen and she shook our waiter’s penis back and forth. “Go Jen!” said an enthused Lisa. Our waiter’s eye brows shot up in surprise and he awkwardly replied “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m not one of the guests, I work here and don’t have to go up”.

While this exchange was going on, Rose had quietly walked up to our group. Her admonishment was spoken quietly, but had the affect of a rifle shot. “James”, she said “take off your bow tie and hand it to me”. Our waiter quickly complied with her request, I could tell that he knew he’d screwed up and wanted to please her. “Now turn around and place your hands behind your back”, this he also did quickly. Rose proceeded to tie his wrists together with the bow tie – tightly, but still somehow making it look decorative like a Christmas present. James was not only going to be made to cum for the crowd, but had to do it tied up and led by a female. Jen took over from there. “Let’s go James” and she pushed him in front of her up to the stage.

Rose turned to me, her smoky brown eyes taking in my still semi-rigid state, “You’re all mine JerBear, let’s see you perform”. I started forward but then turned back to her and said “Rose, I hope I won’t disappoint you, I’m not as outgoing as some of these other males and I don’t think I can win this thing”. “JerBear” she replied, “I have a reputation to uphold and WE are going to win this race. Besides, I have a good sized bet on you and I’m seldom wrong about men … or at least about their ability to perform.” With that being said, she reached out, and took my penis in her hand and proceeded to lead me up the stairs to the stage by it.

There were 12 contestants in the race, all but 4 with female “handlers”. I was maneuvered to stand between James and the tall man we’d seen dancing earlier. Ariel had motioned that she wanted him on the stage so he was one of the “solo” racers. Women who were not in the race moved their chairs up to the front of the stage or took standing positions where they could get the best view. I noticed that Lisa and Ariel were right in front of us. Lisa grinned and gave us a “thumbs up” sign; Ariel was distracted by trying to take in the whole view. The DJ asked the females to take their positions for the race, signaling that it was about to begin. It was important for the women to get in the positions that offered both good leverage and comfort. Jen had kneeled down in front of James with her arms up, I notice that she had both her hands on his semi-erect penis and her smaller hands could not fully encircle it. Rose had taken a position behind me and slightly to the side. She was reaching between my legs with her palm up and her finger tips just below the head of my penis. With her other hand she reached around my hip and cupped my balls to the side. She whispered in my ear “we can win this JerBear, I have Viagra hands” and then she gave a soft chuckle and twirled her finger tips around. The feeling was out of this world! And my penis responded immediately.

The DJ gave the race count down: females to the mark, males get set (all hands were immediately positioned), GO!

A cheer went up from the crowd at the same time the hands went into a flurry of action – each at their own speed and with their own special technique. I was trying to concentrate and focus, but out of the corner of my eye I could see the tall “dancing man” who was performing solo. His technique was to grip his base and twirl the penis like a rope – it was distracting because it started making smaller and smaller arcs as it stiffened. On my other side, Jen was satisfying her urge to give strong penis massage with a vigorous two hand motion. James, who sacrificed some balance with his hands tied behind him, had to push against her in order to remain upright. It seemed to be working for them though because his penis was very stiff and you could see the veins quite clearly.

Meanwhile, Rose’s fingertip penis head massage was working wonders. She was wise to have placed her other hand around my hip because I was squirming uncontrollably from the pleasure. This steadying hand also served to pull my buns into her chest and the feel of her silk blouse against my bare skin was approaching sensory overload. Rose soon produced precum on my penis slit which she noticed and occasionally in one of her fingertip twirls she’d rub her forefinger up over the top of my penis head and then pull it slowly down the length of the slit. I would involuntarily push against her finger – but then her hand on my hip would act as a restraint – holding me in position. Before long she had my penis head glistening with precum and highlighted by the stage lights. I could see Lisa standing before us, mesmerized by Rose’s control and staring at my erection which was now pointing straight up and straining for release.

The dancing man had some fast pumping action going on and I could hear James groan occasionally so I knew that the race was heating up and gaining speed to the finish. Rose too, could sense the urgency in my body. But she kept me quiet with her steadying left hand and changed from her fingertip massage to the use of her palm. The way she maintained speed and control let me know that I was going to cum, but it was going to be on her schedule - she was owning my erection! Her palm cupped the top of my slick penis and she made slow circles pushing down on the head and forcing my penis into big slow arcs – I pushed and strained against her hand but she refused to offer enough resistance for me to finish. Her soft cupping and massaging action soon had my entire penis glistening and slick and it was only then that she firmly gripped the top of my penis and sloooooowly pulled down towards the base. And then she repeated this movement twice more. Rose pulled me tighter into her body and then whispered in my ear “OK JerBear I want you to cum now, I want you to cum in my hand, I want you to cum for all these women who are watching your cock right NOW”. Simultaneously with the word NOW, she gripped my penis the tightest so far and jerked down quickly – I came instantly. She continued to grip me so tightly that my cum squirted out in a strong arc across the stage. There was a moment of silence and then cheers from the crowd.

Jason finished just a few seconds later, but our dancing man continued to labor for some time before he managed to cum, much to the delight of Ariel who seemed to enjoy the prolonged performance. Towels were handed out to the racers and handlers for clean up and we were all applauded as we went back to our tables. Rose seemed more delighted with her enhanced and protected reputation than with all her winnings. She graciously bought each of the females at our table drinks and thanked them for bringing “suitable” entertainment. Jason was permitted, based on his second place finish, to restore his bow tie to its proper place and go back behind the bar. The night was a success for us all … more so for some of us. Now, where did Lisa go with the locker key?

Gladiator Night at Woodpeckers

By outward appearances, Woodpeckers - for the Erotic Woman, was unchanged since my last visit. But the quiet brownstone building with the subdued red sign had undergone real changes which became apparent upon entering. The club had been through significant redecorating in preparation for a yearly highlight of the club; Gladiator Night at Woodpeckers. This was the third time for this annual event which was the brainchild of Rose, the sensuous owner of the club. She had started it as a thank you to her many female club members, but it had evolved into a sort of ball in the style of old Rome.

Wrapped around the finished wood ceiling supports were facsimiles of Roman columns, grape vines provided swales and valances throughout the big room and then were draped in colorful sheer fabrics separating the entrance from the bar and dance floor. Tall, floor-standing oil lamps gave off a soft flickering light for added ambiance. In place of the DJ, young male musicians strolled in and out of the main room playing flutes. They were completely nude except for Roman short sword sheaths at their side which, presumably, were used to hold their instruments when not in use. The musicians were very young, and the short sword sheath was exactly the opposite of what they should have been issued if they were playing with their god given instruments!

Rose came down the isle to greet us. Watching her approach was akin to witnessing the visage of an actual Roman empress. Her dark hair was perfectly set off by a cream colored diaphanous gown through which one could barely make out a violet, bead studded bikini bottom and glimpse her perfectly upturned breasts. A small tiara pulled her hair back from her face, but let it flow softly over her shoulder and provided a nice contrast to her smoky brown eyes.

I was once again with the party girls: Jen, Lisa (whom I’ve sort of forgiven for running away with the locker key last time) and Ariel. Rose shook their hands, ignored me completely, then offered to walk with us to the male’s locker room so that she could explain the night’s rules to us while I was “made proper” (meaning, stripped nude. All males must be completely nude at all times in the club. They must also obey every female’s request or suffer consequences). In the locker room, several groups of females were taking away their male’s clothes and locking them away for the night. Rose stood next to me; Jen held out her hands and signaled for me to surrender my clothes. I undressed under their watchful eyes until completely naked, and then Jen locked them in the cabinet and handed the key to Lisa again! Oh no, I thought, but didn’t dare to express my dismay. Lisa saw the look on my face and smiled as she tucked it in her pocket.

That done, Rose asked for everyone’s attention. “Males” she said, “most of you have been here before so I won’t go into the general rules. But tonight we females have a few special requirements. First of all, for tonight you will only refer to me as “Roman Mistress” secondly, when you came in you saw that the main room was separated from the rest of the space. That is because tonight is Gladiator night at Woodpeckers. As you may know, many of the Roman gladiators were slaves who could win their rights as a free man through physical contests in the coliseum. Well, we’ve set up our own little coliseum and any of you who wish, can vie for your right to become free for the night. The females of Woodpeckers wish to be entertained by a contest of nude male wrestling!” I heard several short gasps from the males and saw several grins spread across the faces of the females.

She motioned for silence and then continued “we want to make our request voluntary but your choice should be made … interesting. You see, to accommodate the wrestling ring” and at this point she went to the floor to ceiling window that separated the men’s locker area from the main room (and was surprisingly covered until now) and pulled back a curtain that had been temporarily installed. “We needed to remove many of the tables and chairs”. She was right; there was a large square ring in the middle of the room. Around the edges of the room were more of the oil candles providing soft light, but the ring itself was brilliantly awash under floodlights. The ropes, I could see, were black leather as were the padded corner posts. The most prominent feature in the whole room was the hulk of a man stretching in one corner of the ring. He was big with no fat, only muscles that rippled as he pulled against the leather ropes. His head was shaved bald and shined with the lights reflecting off of it. His black skin perfectly matched the leather ropes. He performed a deep squat exercise and I was stunned by the size of his penis. The man was enormous – all over! “That”, she said, “is Titus. He’s our resident champion. In fact, in two years he has never lost a bout. He has one pleasure in life, and that’s nude male wrestling.” After pausing for two beats for her message to sink in with every male in the room (and to reacquire the attention of the females who were staring at Titus in rapt awe), Rose continued. “Any male can opt out of wrestling Titus. If you decide to do so, you immediately become a chained slave to a female who agrees to own you for the night. The “chains” are of my own design and I’m quite proud of them so let me demonstrate. Is there a male who has already decided?”

A medium sized man, who obviously hadn’t been working out in the last few years, tentatively raised his hand. Smart move, I thought – he could get killed out there! “Bill”, said Roman Mistress identifying the man “step forward please”. She opened one of the lockers and pulled out a leather strap about ½ inch thick. This is what you will wear. This is how it works. Another 1/2 inch strap resembling a "Y" attaches to the bottom of the first strap and lifts up between the middle of the scrotum and attaches to the first strap on both sides of your penis. This makes the balls protrude nicely, surrounded as they are by leather and it secures the cock in its rightful place, sitting up above. Upon your arousal, which believe me – the females will all encourage. Your balls will begin to swell - with veins more pronounced and skin glistening - tempting all females to run their fingers over your jewels. Your penis has a free reign to produce a vivid erection in response – if you should so desire.” She added with a smirk. She tossed the harness at him and commanded “now put it on, slave”.

Bill fumbled with it a little but did manage to complete the assembly. Roman Mistress then walked over to him and snapped a leash onto a silver ‘O” ring that was part of the harness. The other end of the leash she handed to the closest female. “You’ll appreciate having a slave tonight. As you see, we’ve had to move the tables and chairs out of the way, so there is no place to set your food or drink. Bill will hold them for you so that you are comfortable. When you’d like either, you can just give a little tug on the leash – you’ll immediately have his attention!” The female nodded and smiled “very, very cool! Thanks Roman Mistress. I could use one of these at home too!” Bill looked a little forlorn leashed to a female by his balls, but he wasn’t going to be alone for long. Roman Mistress added another rule “for those of you who think you can escape this humiliation by wrestling, once you do lose to Titus, you must immediately be leashed and turned over to the closest female lacking a slave. There will be plenty of leashes available” she added with a grin. “Oh, and just to offer hope for those of you still not convinced of your slave destiny; If you do beat Titus, you will be rewarded by being stroked to orgasm by the female of your choice.”

There was confused silence in the locker for a minute and then a hum of conversation. “JerBear” said Jen looking up at me with her clear blue eyes that were unusually serious. Jen is never serious, unless it’s about male erections. “Have you decided? You know it’s not so bad to be a slave for one night – and I won’t tug too hard” She tried to force a smile. “In fact I had a really cute dog once that loved being led by me”. OK, that decided it for me. Serving females nude I can do (I actually like their attention), being leashed to one and tugged around might be OK, but being compared to her cute, little dog – no way. I was still a man and if I was wearing a leash it was because I had lost a manly struggle. “Jen” I said simply “I’m wrestling”. I questioned my resolve shortly thereafter as we left the locker room. Titus was in the center of the ring doing pushups. His penis was so large its head never left the floor during this exercise. Each downward motion of the pushup served to press it against the canvas – and the rubbing motion was starting an erection, the size of which was simply unbelievable.

We made our way over to the bar area. James recognized the girls and immediately produced three “naked waiter” drinks. While I was not technically a slave, neither was I a free man – so I stood while they sat at three of the chairs that had been pushed up against the wall. Apparently quite a few of the females had brought men who thought they would wrestle but quickly changed their mind, because we had a constant flow of strong, muscular and fit men walk by who were attached by their balls to females in flowing Roman style togas. I could tell that many of the females had been to prior events, because they had somehow managed to coordinate the leashes with their outfits – Gold leashes with the green togas, silver with the black – how do women manage to accessorize like that? I was kind of glad not to have to worry about it, because everything goes with naked. The contrasting images of such extreme femininity leading such virile male specimens was only heightened when one of the females desired her drink and would give a tug on her slave’s leash. We watched how it would cause the penis to flip up and cause a corresponding hop in the step of the male slave. Roman Mistress was right about the look. All of the penises were pointing straight out in their harnesses and the balls were pushed away from the body and were on complete display.

We were joined by a fourth girl who was looking for a place to sit and sip her drink. She said her name was Jennyfer and had come alone tonight. She was perfectly proportioned, about 5’4” with long black hair and smooth skin. I asked her how she was doing and she said “well, I’m happy ‘cause there are so many naked men” but then she wistfully regretted not bringing a slave. So many were walking by holding drinks or food for their mistresses she felt kind of left out. She reached out with her finger, placed it on the base of my penis, then dragged it slowly along to the head. “What’s the matter JerBear” she said “don’t you want to show us how your balls look all pushed up? I’d love to have a slave tonight to lead past the other women so they could look or touch”. Lisa looked over and told her that I had decided to wrestle – and even she couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice.

Just then, they announced the first match of the evening. One of the males was entering the ring with Titus. The females shouted and rushed towards the ring for the best view – their male slaves were literally towed along behind them. I saw Bill across the room running on his toes to keep up with his female owner while he simultaneously balanced drinks in both hands. Roman Mistress entered the ring to get the match started. With the floodlights over the ring, her gown became even more translucent and I (along with the other males) could clearly see her breasts. I felt a slight twitch in my crotch at the sight, and looked around at the male slaves. Their harnesses were really stretched now that the constriction of their balls was tightening - and their penises were being involuntarily forced erect. Roman Mistress produced a leather rope and proceeded to tie the wrestlers together at the waist, leaving perhaps 2 feet of slack between them. Lisa leaned over and explained that previous matches had become boring with the challenger running around the ring trying to stay away from Titus. Now each man had to wrestle. The challenger’s female owner had carefully oiled him down so that he’d be harder to hang onto. Titus needed no such remedy as he was already quite slick with sweat from his exercises. The match took but seconds. At the sound of the bell, Titus jerked on the rope binding him to the challenger. The force yanked the young man off balance and towards Titus, who took one step forward grabbed an upper arm and lower leg simultaneously. He lifted the young man in the air by the leg and hurled him down on the canvas – and jumping on top of him at the same time. Roman Mistress counted to three and the match was history. As the young man struggled to his feet, she pushed one of her harnesses at him and commanded him to put it on immediately. I looked around and noticed that several of the males who minutes before had been unrestrained, were now attaching harnesses and looking for females with leashes. Titus did love his wrestling; the brief encounter obviously roused him sexually as his large organ swelled and became semi-erect. I began to rethink my decision!

There were only a couple of males left without leashes. This was a situation ideally suited to the females of Woodpeckers. Titus was a feast for all of their eyes and they were drinking him in completely. And for immediate enjoyment, almost every female had a male slave on leash holding their drinks and bringing them to their side with a slight tug. At which time, most females could sip their cold drink with one hand a run a cooled finger over their slave’s balls and down their “vivid erection” so accurately described by Roman Mistress. The sexual tension this created in the males was almost palpable. When any male seemed to be approaching a break point, the female had simply to tug on the leash and keep him moving and distracted which they often did by leading two or more slaves together and loudly comparing their flanks, their chests and their penises so that the slaves could hear.

Roman Mistress ascended the ring once more to announce the second bout. The challenger this time was an obvious college wrestler. He had the stocky, muscular build and the requisite cauliflower ear. His female patron (soon to be his mistress) was a pretty, middle-aged woman who generously oiled him up and patted him on the butt a few times as he climbed the stairs. The rope was connected to each, the challenger went into a low, wrestler’s crouch and the bell was rung. The result was the same. To get the challenger back up to his height, Titus simply jerked the robe straight up with such strength that it lifted the challenger off his feet. Titus caught him in the air by the scrotum, turned him over with his free hand and slammed him to the canvas. Where upon, he simply laid down on top of him for Roman Mistresses’ three count. The poor challenger was too sore to install his own harness so his mistress had to snap it on for him herself. I felt an involuntary shudder as I watched her lead him off the mat by a leash. Titus was now jumping up and down and sporting a full erection – that man does like nude wrestling! The bad feeling that image gave me was exacerbated when I looked around and saw the remaining males fastening harnesses on themselves as quickly as they could find one. Even with the abundance of harnessed men, the party girls were polite enough to wait and see how I performed before seizing one of the slaves for themselves. I thought that was nice, but I know they didn’t really believe I stood any chance at all … and I didn’t really believe it myself.

Jen came over and said “come on, we better get you ready”. “How do you know I’m next?” I asked. “JerBear, you and Titus are the only males without harnesses. There can be only one”. I was kind of numb to tell you the truth, but I let her lead me over to the steps and started to relax a little as she oiled me down for the bout. She applied it skillfully, as much as a massage as an oiling. She even took great care with my penis and balls (probably because of the unfortunate fate of the previous wrestler) she dipped her hand in the oil grabbed my penis at its base and slowly pulled the length of the shaft. After doing this twice, I was stiff enough where for her hand to glide back and forth along its length. I may not have the length or girth of Titus, but we equal at least in erection elevation! Roman Mistress stood along side us waiting for us to get ready so she could start the next bout. She looked in my eyes and asked “JerBear, how are you?” “Well”, I replied, “right now I’m a man, but in a few minutes I’ll probably be a slave”. She shook her head at me, “didn’t you learn anything the last time we were on stage together? Fighting is just like making love. You have to use the strength of your partner – not work against it”. “Huh?” I thought, but before I could make sense of her advice I was being led up the steps and into the ring.

The experience of the ring is hard to imagine if you haven’t been there. Permeating everything is the smell of strong men working - and fear. The floodlights crank up the heat index and the crowd is a dull roar in the background. Everything slows down as you concentrate on your opponent. You forget yourself. I felt the cool hands of Roman Mistress as she tied the rope around my waist – they were calm and reassuring. Suddenly, I understood what she had been trying to tell me. Before she had a chance to ring the bell, I took a step towards Titus (everyone else had put as much room between them as the rope would allow) and shouted at him “We got your nut harness waiting for you, you big dope!” OK, not a very bright sentiment, but full of expression. I think he understood. In fact I know he did because his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared and I could see his heart pumping in his chest. That’s what I wanted, to distract him from watching my hand as I formed a loop in the slack of the rope near him. Suddenly the bell clanged and I instantly dropped to the ground. Titus was familiar with this tactic. He grabbed at the rope and jerked with all his strength to bring me back up. But while dropping to the ground I had slipped the loop of the rope over his balls and erection (believe me it just fit – I had to push it down and over). His mighty jerk only served to yank his own balls as though he was trying to rip them off. Titus erupted with a roar more animal than human. Since I was on the ground already, I slid between his legs and stood up behind him. This of course tightened the loop still further, Titus furiously dug at the rope as I climbed on his back trying to stretch it as far as a could. Titus made three furious full circles, fell to the mat and pounded his fist on it three times to signal that he was giving up.

After the initial shock at the unexpected turn of events, the crowd cheered as Roman Mistress rushed into the ring to ensure everyone’s safety – especially that of Titus. She had to help the poor dear to his knees than then stuck the harness in his face. The really funny part is that the harness wouldn’t fit. It took Roman Mistress quite some time and two assistants (the females were fighting for the chance to help get Titus into a harness!) to get him fitted. And at that, Roman Mistress had to snap two of them together to get them around his massive organ. When competed, she helped him to his feet and looked out into the crowd for the right mistress – “Roman Mistress”, I said, “Pick her” and pointed to Jennyfer. After but a moment of consideration, a smile spread across her face and she handed the leash to Jennyfer who led Titus down the steps and through an envious crowd of females.

“Well JerBear” Roman Mistress said “as this year’s winner, you are a free man for the night and get to pick your stroking partner. Who will it be?” With her I scanned the crowd, then bent over and picked up one of the harnesses on the mat from their ‘Titus fitting’ I turned to her and said “Roman Mistress, as a free man, I pick you. But I pick you to lead me for the night.” I glanced out at the crowd and saw Jen and the other party girls. “I think I got that stroking part covered anyway!” A cheer went up from the females as my sentiment was heard. Roman Mistress very solemnly fixed the harness and snapped on her personal leash, then gently led me down the steps and through the crowd of women.

Breast Cancer Research Fundraiser at Woodpeckers

I just dropped in at Woodpeckers to visit with Rose and was so excited by the level of activity going on that I just had to report back to you all. It seems that Jen has talked Rose into hosting a charity event that is going to be “THE” must attend event of the year; not just for Woodpeckers, but for the whole town!

The Charity is “Woman’s Breast Cancer Research” and the goal is to reach donations in an amount that gives our town national recognition for its support. Rose has implored the City Counsel, the various business groups and clubs to get behind this initiative. Of course, all the money in town is with the politicians and businesses – so all of the female power brokers are coming and all of the wives’ of the male power brokers will be here. Of course, they’ve all wanted to come to Woodpeckers for years and saw this as not just an excuse but an absolute reason to be here! So the word spread like wildfire and because of the limited seating, all of the available tickets were sold out - as soon as they went on sale.

The men from the local university drama club are performing their version of “the Full Monty”. When I arrived they were practicing on stage. Whatever they lacked as professionals they were making up for in enthusiasm. The women will love it! Rose has beefed-up (literally) the bar help by recruiting only the buffest men from the local gym – they were a little reticent at first, but Rose usually gets her way with men! They were all here getting instructions. Of course, the instructions had a lot to do with making sure they looked appropriate to the setting, so Jen was personally “instructing” them on erection height. She’d drawn a chalk line behind the bar at her desired elevation and all the men had to meet it – or be dismissed. This of course was a personal affront and challenge to the manly men of the weightlifting ilk, so they were “stretching” for her approval. So far all but one had made the mark; Jen was pleased on many levels! Now she was busy coaching them on maintaining that elevation.

The University female cheerleaders were here helping with the decorations; lots of balloons, pink ribbons and table settings to position. Their presence (and subtle encouragement) was a big reason so many of the prospective waiters were making the mark! But they were also encouraging the male cheerleaders who were going to do several of their routines during the night to keep the audience donating. They had strategically affixed pink ribbons to their penis’s which waved – and kept falling off – as they went through their jumping jacks, tumbles and pyramid building!

James because of his build and imposing endowment has been promoted to security for the night. His serious demeanor will be highlighted by a black bow tie, instead of his customary green one. I noticed Jen giving him some glances as he went by, I’m quite sure she wished he was behind the bar still – she’d like to check his elevation again! His self-consciousness makes him an easy (and a marked) target for Jen’s devilish sense of humor. I’ll bet he won’t avoid her all night.

There wasn’t a lot of room left, but Rose had set up a regulation table tennis set. There will be a tournament with nude male players of course. There were just a couple rows of bleachers next to it, so Rose isn’t counting on that as a large draw.

Speaking of Rose, I’m still trying to find her. I heard she was working on a champagne serving display in the back – but I can’t find her. I’ll keep trying and report back to you all during – or right after – the big night.

The End of Woodpeckers?

The last police car pulled away from Woodpeckers and left me alone on the sidewalk. The ambulances and fire trucks had departed about an hour ago, but there were still a few gawkers hanging around, hoping for more excitement.

How did it go so wrong, so fast? Honestly, I think it was the “Naked Waiter” drinks, and the rumor that they were non-alcoholic. Or perhaps it was the large number of women, unaccustomed to a roomful of naked men – or put another way, a large group of repressed women for whom a world of naked men was suddenly theirs for the taking. And they took.

Certainly, it wasn’t a lack of preparation. Rose and Jen had teamed up and created a world of naked men and entertaining events all designed to raise money for breast cancer research. They had decorated beautifully with lots of signage and banners encouraging charitable donations. Volunteers were plentiful and we “regulars” were in force as well. We all had assigned tasks and stations. Mine, as it turned out, was strategically placed to view the whole event as it built in intensity and then came undone.

I arrived for the festivities a tad late, as I had to run some last minute errands for Jen. Rose was greeting the crowd and introducing them to her rules at Woodpeckers (the main two are that ALL males are naked while there and every female wish or demand must be fulfilled). The crowd was an unusual one for Woodpeckers. Because of the fundraising nature of the event, all the big money women from town were there. There was: Betty, the Mayor’s wife, several vice presidents from the bank and the bank president’s wife, politicians, and all of the business women from town. They were a dignified looking group, but were cracking grins - and sideways glances at the naked men assembled around them - as Rose made her announcements.

Rose had positioned me and my wrestling friend Titus at the foyer, so we were first to greet the arriving women. Titus was there because his awesome size and physical endowments were both shocking and eye appealing for the women (in fact, they couldn’t help staring). I was there as kind of a reward for the wrestling feats from the last event. Titus was dishing up and handing out strawberries and cream, I was standing in Rose’s latest creation – an indoor water fountain. It was designed to look like the side of a rock mountain with a stream coming out of it. My costume – such as it was – consisted of a simple garland around my head and one of Rose’s penis collars. I was pouring and dispensing champagne as Bacchus, the God of wine. The fountain was built up on a stand so my position in it elevated me for a good view of the room – it also placed my crotch at eye level for easier female viewing! Rose’s collar put my penis and smooth balls on prominent display. Because of his sheer size, I was at the same height at Titus – even though he was standing on the ground. Because we were the first men the many of the women encountered, Titus and I were receiving more than our share of attention and handling. Titus and his huge member were quickly covered in cream and my displayed penis got enough touching while I poured wine that it was in a permanent state of full erection!

The foyer was further decorated with banners and pink ribbons encouraging donations for women’s breast cancer research. Below a large banner was a table where women could sign in and place bids on various men who would serve them a private dinner on a night of their choosing. This was the brainchild of the female cheerleaders from the local university and they were working the table, pointing out various men on the floor that they were recommending. The recommendations included lots of grins and whispered discussions that I couldn’t hear.

The new “beefcake” bartenders, personally trained by Jen, were a major hit. They were buff weightlifters from the local gym. Jen had imposed an “erection-only” rule on them with minimum elevations – and the women in the crowd simply loved it! The drink orders were coming fast and frenzied and the buff guys had to really move to keep up (with the orders, keeping their elevation up was no problem since they constantly stroked by the customers in lieu of tips – I guess that in a way, the customers were getting the tips!). The drink of choice was a “naked waiter” and as much as I tried to dispel the rumor, several of the women commented on how good they were for a non alcoholic beverage.

As pre-show entertainment, the male cheerleaders from the local university were doing some of their routines – with strategically placed pink ribbons which only hinted at an attempt at modesty. Actually the ribbons served to draw attention as they kept fluttering off during the jumping routines much to the delight of the crowd. The free flowing champagne and drinks were having an affect on the crowd and they were growing quite noisy. Rose thought she’d better start the show, an abbreviated performance of “The Full Monty” by the University Men’s Theater Group. But even this shortened version was too long for the intoxicated women who kept shouting at the men to “take it off now” and “show us the goods”. I looked around for James, who was supposed to be security for the night’s event. I wondered if he was ready in case it got out of hand. I couldn’t see him at first, but then saw that Jen had him cornered behind the bar. He must have made the mistake of balking at one of her requests, because she was once again using his bowtie to tie his hands behind his back – and to the cooler. Boy, either he’s a slow learner … or he really likes being tied up by her! She knows what she’s doing though, for all her stern treatment … the men keep coming back to her.

The stage had been removed to handle all the events going on. This worked to the disadvantage of the actors since they were forced to perform right next to the audience. It did serve the women well and because the show wasn’t moving along fast enough to conclusion they started grabbing the actors and undressing them themselves! Once one of the women started, it turned into a free-for-all – like the rush to unwrap gifts on Christmas morning! Quickly and without too much protestation, the men were unwrapped and naked – and of course the whole performance came to a quick close. Rose put on some music and the women, now in a fully intoxicated state, started a conga line with the naked performers. The line was formed by grabbing an actor’s penis and pulling him along in the line. The woman behind him would grab one of his cheeks and pull along another actor. Of course, there weren’t enough men to go around and this was creating a scene of frustration for some of the women and a few worried looks of desperation on the faces of the other men in the room.

One of the older ladies in the crowd had climbed up on a table to shout at the bartenders to bring more drinks. When he dutifully arrived, she decided to climb up on his shoulders and wanted him to carry her through the room. Well, this was too much for the remaining women without men, they quickly climbed up on the other bartenders and were challenging each other to “pony races”. I saw Betty, the mayor’s wife weaving through the crowd … obviously quite tipsy but still mobile due to her low center of gravity, she grabbed the last remaining bartender and in a drunken, clumsy attempt to climb up found herself facing the wrong way with her crotch in the man’s face! He couldn’t see, but that didn’t stop her from demanding that he catch up with the other pony racers and shouted out directions to him; right, left, no too much – turn around, etc.

Ella, the city council woman who’d been in office as long as any of us had been alive, grabbed one of the table tennis paddles, and was going through the room, spanking men. She seemed to have no reason for doing this, but it did get the ponies to move faster and got the conga line hopping! I think she just wanted to spank nude men. The women of the conga line were having a ball. Those that didn’t get a guy to pull in line found the roman lanterns along the wall and were carrying these along, swinging them to the beat of the music.

The line moved through the foyer just about the same time as Betty and her blind pony arrived from around the corner. It was like witnessing an auto accident. It seemed to go in slow motion. Betty and her pony crashed into the middle of the line, one of the lanterns fell against the wall and ignited the breast cancer banner which quickly started burning the length of the wall. Some of the women and nude men were in a ball on the floor and others were scattering and yelling. I’d like to say it was a stroke of genius, but since I’d been standing in a pool of water all night, it was a self evident observation on my part to reach around the fountain, unscrew the water supply hose and use it to spray down the banner and put out the fire. James had finally worked himself free and grabbed a cell phone from one of the women who’d been using it to photograph the cream covered Titus, he hit 911 and yelled out “Trouble at Woodpeckers! It’s the women”. He got no further than that, when the phone’s owner grabbed it back and resumed her fine photography.

The way it was recounted to me later by one of the EMR guys; the call verified a fear every husband in town had, that their woman were being somehow abused by those naked men at Woodpeckers! Since every cop’s wife, every firefighter’s girlfriend and the woman of every first responder were at Woodpeckers – well they all rushed in to save their females. When the crashed through the doorway, they found the men being pulled around by their dicks, paddled by old ladies and shouted at to run faster while carrying women on their shoulders. Plus there was a big pile of women and naked men lying on the floor all wet. This isn’t to mention the huge, shockingly well endowed black man, who was covered in cream – or me with a garland and penis collar. They had no one to blame … but each was giving his wife or girlfriend a very accusatory look.

So, the party broke up. As someone who’d seem most of it take place I was questioned extensively. But what happens at Woodpeckers – stays at Woodpeckers! But, without naming names, I gave enough hints so that no tickets were issued, not fines were levied, and everyone hoped it would blow over and be forgotten – ha!

Woodpeckers, though, was in shambles. Tables, chairs and lamps were broken. The wall was singed, the floors were wet, and the bar was destroyed. I walked by Rose who was meeting with her insurance man already (yes, his wife had been there too). Rose was alternating between tears and laughter, but still had it together enough to demand that as a man in her establishment, he better remove his clothes at once! She’s a fighter and never quits. It would need that kind of grit to get this going again …. If she decides to do so.

As I walked home and recounted the night’s events in my mind, I couldn’t help but grin. Boy, I’m going to miss Woodpeckers.

Purchased at Auction -- cfnm

My cell phone chirped its announcement of a call, breaking the silence of a quiet Thursday night. I’d been feeling emotionally let down after the demise of Woodpeckers and was glad for the interruption - I set down my book, grabbed the phone and pushed the talk button. “Hello” I said.

There was a moment of silence and then a woman’s voice asked, somewhat uncertainly, “is this JerBear?”

“Yes it is, how can I help you?” I replied.

“Well” she said, somewhat haltingly, “My name’s Madeline – but please call me Maddy. Do you remember the fundraiser for Women’s Breast Cancer Research? It was held at Woodpeckers.”

Did I remember? How could I forget? They had to shut the place down after that event – although I hear the owner, Rose, is trying to resurrect the club.

“Sure, I remember” I said.

“Have the cheerleaders contacted you yet?” She asked.

Oh, oh I thought. I hope no one got hurt and there isn’t a lawsuit coming after all. I’d been quite relieved that everyone in town seemed to want to forget the whole episode. Certainly no one talked about it. What had happened AT Woodpeckers was going to stay at Woodpeckers – or so I hoped.

“No they haven’t. What’s it about?” I asked.

“Well, they were auctioning off the men from Woodpeckers for the fundraiser.” She explained. “And I bought you!” Ok, now the silence was on my end of the phone. I’d forgotten all about the auction. And since their banner and table burned in the fire, I just assumed the auction was lost.

She waited a beat, apparently understood my shock and filled in the silence with her request. Having broken the ice, her voice was now much stronger and even sounded a little excited “So I was wondering if you were available this weekend? Say Saturday night? I live right in town. I’m thinking that around 8:00 would be nice. Can you make it?”

I told her that I could. Asked for the address and then before hanging up I asked if there was anything I should prepare or bring. “Oh, heavens no” she replied, “I want you to come as you are!” She chuckled as if it were a joke and hung up.

So Saturday night found me pulling up in front of a small but well appointed house in a trendy section of town going through an architectural renewal. I’d dressed in what I hoped a female would consider casual chic – clean but well worn jeans, a loosely buttoned collared shirt over a colored tee shirt. I could be underdressed or over dressed, who knows how you’re supposed to arrive for one of these things? There were a few cars in the driveway so I parked along the street, walked up and rang the bell. I could hear blues playing in the house - thank goodness, that kind of music always picks me up when I’m feeling a little bit down.

The door swung open and I was facing a trim women who looked to be in her upper forties. Her blonde hair was cut short in a current style that matched her look – sparse, but high class. Her pressed white shirt was tailored to fit, her jeans looked new, she wore little makeup and no jewelry but for a simple chain around her neck.

She extended her hand in greeting “Come in JerBear, I’m Maddy.” I took her hand and give me a firm handshake and then maintained her grip using it to pull my into the room, as though I might still turn and run away. “Thanks” she said “for keeping up your end of the bargain” she slightly emphasized the word “up” and smiled at her own little joke.

There were three younger females in the living room – perhaps in their mid twenties. They were relaxing, sipping wine and were listening to the music I had heard. Now that I was in the house I recognized it as Big Walter Smith, he was singing; Baby What You Want Me To Do, I liked that song but it took on a whole different meaning in this environment. Maddy introduced her friends, put a drink in my hands and suggested we all move to back room she had converted to a studio.

“Studio” I asked “as in an artist workshop”?

“No” she replied, “more like a design studio. I’m an architect, these young women” she glanced at them and smiled “are in-training with me. I’ve brought them on for a special project”.

We chatted some more about some of the architectural projects she’d done around town and around the country while she led the way through the house to her workshop. Once there, she turned to face me and said “I’ve got to be honest about something JerBear. I didn’t really buy you at the auction”. Once again with her, I was too stunned to say anything right away, so her continued. “Oh, I did make a contribution to the cancer research fund, just so it wouldn’t be a total sham, but I got your number from Rose at Woodpeckers. She recommended you for what we needed. You see, the project we’re all working on is the new Woodpeckers! We’ve done the initial design work, but Rose wanted some interior concept drawings and well frankly, none of us had been to the old woodpeckers and we wanted to create the right atmosphere for her. So we needed to put a model into our shots. That’s where you come in”.

The other females were busy pulling chairs and easels around a slightly elevated stage. While they were occupied, Maddy leaned in and in a lower voice added “besides, these young women will have to be working around naked men for the next period of time and I wanted to see how well they adapt to it – like will they really get the work done? So, are you still willing to help? We’ll need you to hold certain poses that we direct for sustained periods?”

Wow, I thought, Rose is really going to do it. Heck yea, if it means getting the new Woodpeckers going! And posing nude for these young women, well Ella Fitzgerald said it best in her song “its nice work - if you can get it!” But I managed to express a more dignified “of course”. At that Maddy pointed to the stage and said “OK then, let’s have you strip and hop up there. The girls will direct the poses they need – and, I think we’re all a little excited to get started.” The women grinned and nodded – each was at her drawing station, but every eye was on me. As I walked up on the stage, the music CD changed over to Allison Krause’s new song, “killing the Blues and grabbing the world by the tail”.

Their eyes never left me as I undressed on their little stage. They continued chatting and talking as I took off my shirt, shoes and socks but got very quiet when I finally unzipped my blue jeans and slid them down over my butt and they dropped to the floor. Because of their rapt attention, I was already semi-erect as I slid off my underwear and tossed them on my pile of clothes. I heard Maddy draw in her breath and when I looked at her she was motionless and studying my penis intently. It was left to one of the other women to momentarily take charge “well girls” she said “we’ve got a naked guy to draw! Let’s get going.” It was a smaller space so everyone was just a few feet away. She was able to direct my pose from the floor. She had me lean back dramatically, with all my weight supported by my hands on a low stool. This afforded them the most exposed view of my crotch and gave me a pose that I could hold for a period of time. Maddy wasn’t drawing herself. She was however, intensely studying me and when she would catch me looking at her, would move around as if to check out the other women’s drawings.

They busied themselves for a short period until Maddy found herself and took charge again. “No – this will never do” she said. “The drawing are OK, but rather lifeless. JerBear looks like a statue in the new building and we need to show him full of life!” She turned to me “JerBear, I think what we need is more inspiration from you. Is it possible for you to, hmmm, you know … stand a little more erect?” I started to stand up and she stopped me “NO, please maintain the pose. I mean we need your penis to be more erect!” I could feel my face instantly flush hot and red. Of course I could do that, I had actually been concentrating really, really hard on every mundane topic I could think of to avoid embarrassing myself be becoming erect in front of the women. I had re-run football plays from last Sunday in my mind, worked on algebra equations, designed a garage addition – everything to not think about this group of young, attractive women staring at my nakedness and making me hard.

In spite of my acute embarrassment and red face I could feel myself starting to get hard in front of all of them. “Wow” one said, “can you do that on command?” I didn’t answer her, mostly because I didn’t know how to explain that for me, it was impossible not to get hard with Manny directing them all to draw me with an erection and have their full attention on my penis.

I settled back into the pose and had to smile as I noticed all the women using their erasers to eliminate part of their former drawings and start over. They bent to their work with new energy (and quite a few smiles and grins I noticed). “Hey” one of them said “you have to maintain the whole pose. If you start drooping, I lose my work!”

Maddy understood right away “I propose we take turns, when we notice JerBear drooping one of us will go up and bring him back to our desired position!” At this the women laughed and even though I was chagrined, I immediately swelled to a totally “upright” penis position. I maintained it – I thought – during the rest of the drawing session (and two full bottles of wine I noticed) still, one of the women would occasionally set down her pencil, walk onto the stage and gently – or rapidly – wrap her fingers around my penis and slide them up and down for a while. That was usually sufficient to maintain my erection, but they never seemed to stop right away!

An hour and a half flew by as the women were pretty witty and the wine had an energizing effect on them and their work. Their conversations and drawing collaborations were almost as stimulating as the manual variety they occasionally provided. Maddy expressed her approval at the drawings and thanked the women for their work. She, and they, all thanked me for “holding” my pose throughout. As they started packing to leave, I assumed I was done as well and started putting on my clothes.

“Hey JerBear” Maddy shouted out over the conversation “where do you think you’re going?”

“I thought you were all done with me” I answered.“In case you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t done a drawing yet tonight. And now that I’ve studied your attributes…. well … your erection really. It’s inspired me to start on the fountain design tonight”

Maddy said. “maybe you should consider the last couple of hours with my team as a down payment on your lay-a-way plan!”

(Last line with apologies to the infamous Muddy Waters).

Maddy Takes Control --- cfnm, denial

I stood there naked and awkward while the women said their goodbyes – each gave me a glance and wave as they went out the door – they all had smiles that they made no effort to hide.

I was still in a semi-erect state and my penis swung back and forth in balance to my hand as I returned their waves. When the last one had left I turned to Maddy and my face obviously held my questions. She chuckled and said,

“Let’s go back to the studio JerBear. I have a Wilson Pickett session to do.”

“Huh” was the most intelligent response I could conjure up.

“You know” she said “‘at the midnight hour’”. And she laughed again.

When we got to her studio she took the time to show me some of the work her group had already finished. It was stunning. Rose had gone all out on the remodel. I saw a drive-through garage (to move larger sets in and out Maddy explained), an expanded bar and restaurant setting, and a very modern open area. Maddy explained that it could easily be reconfigured for almost any event and included a “thrust” stage so that the performers were almost in the audience. Maddy’s pride though, was the fountain. The drawing was in a draft state but by looking through several drawings you came away impressed. The fountain itself was on the second floor and was designed to be the centerpiece of a private party room with limited seating. Soft lights, stone and wood materials made it both elegant and inviting. Ceiling to floor picture windows on one side overlooked a walkway and the large room down below. The fountain output flowed under the wall and formed a waterfall which created a natural, albeit small, water park adjacent to the show floor.

For a moment I forgot all about my nakedness and my close presence to this intelligent, attractive woman who was fully clothed. “Wow” I exclaimed, “how is Rose going to make this happen?”

Maddy explained. “Insurance covered a lot of it, but the city chipped in from their civic development fund – it’s actually kind of a slush fund for them.”

“Why would they do that?” I asked.

“Well Rose had a pretty good case for several suits”, she said. “And Betty”

“The mayor’s wife” I interrupted?

Maddy chuckled again (I was becoming very enamored of her easy sense of humor)

“the very same. As you probably recall and from what I’ve been told, she caused the crash of bodies that started the fire itself. And the city counsel woman”

“The spanking granny” I hated to keep interrupting her, but this startling news indeed!

“Yes” Maddy sighed at my interruption “the very same. She was chasing the boys that crashed into Betty’s pony. Rose’s lawyer was able to point out to the city that there was some guest liability in the demise of woodpeckers and I guess none of them were very anxious to get the story out in court! The building permits went through unquestioned and we only have the usual inspections to look forward to. But, we do have to show Betty and the counsel woman the architectural renderings to get the final payment. That’s why I wanted a real-life model who’s experience with Woodpeckers – and” at this point she glanced down at my crotch “who they might want to see in his typical event state.”

Maddy closed up her drawing file and ushered me back up to the stage. She wanted me to assume the previous pose. But at this point she adopted her professional demeanor and for the next half hour or so minutely directed my positioning while she sketched; lean a little to the left, look more directly at me, move your hand to your thigh and so on. None of it was hard to do until she wanted to direct my penis too!

“JerBear, we need more elevation! Can you stroke it up for me? JerBear, we want you to look like you want to stroke yourself, move your other hand closer to the base.” We went on like this for a while until Maddy stopped drawing and leaned forward on her forearms so that she was close enough to me to speak in a conversational tone.

“JerBear, this is important. The drawing is not capturing the essence of the entertainment nor of life. What I want you to do is to reach over with your finger tips and lightly stroke the head of your penis for me. I want to make the drawing as erotic as I can for Betty – she can’t refuse to fund it if it’s appealing enough. I’ll tell you when you can stop”. At that she bent back down to her drawing – her request being equal to a demand while she was in her professional mode.”After this point I lost total track of time. For an interminable time I lightly fingered the head of my penis, my embarrassment at doing so being greatly overwhelmed by the flood of sensuous stimulation. I do know that my penis swelled and became stiff and wooden. It pushed against my fingers of its own accord and if it could speak, was begging for release. After some period of time, precum made the “fingertip only” movements that Maddy kept demanding, light and quick. My penis head was slick and glistening when I didn’t think I could stand it any longer.“Maddy” I almost shouted in my desperation “I’m going to come”!

“You will do no such thing” she said in a very hard but even voice that was barely above conversational level.

I was surprised and taken aback; I thought that was what she was wanting from me, even though she had never said so.

“I am no where near being done here. Grab the base of your penis – HARD – and pull it to the side”.

I did as she directed and after a few moments of frozen action, the urge subsided.Maddy told me to stop touching myself and lean back on the chair supported only with my hands. The physical stress this put on my arms won out over the pressing need for penis relief. Maddy was able, after many more minutes, to complete her work.

I knew she had it when she pushed herself back from the desk and set her pencil down with a self-satisfied smile. She studied her work for a long period and then looked up at me with those clear eyes of hers and smiled. “We’re almost done JerBear. The last part I want to commit to memory for later work. Please go back to the finger tip stroking … only this time, I want you to compete it.”

I was too hot and flustered to even tell if I was blushing or not. But I needed no further encouragement. My fingers flew to the head of my penis, which in moments was again wet and slippery. At her direction, I only touched the head of my penis, but did grip it very hard with my fingertips and soon brought myself to a body shuddering orgasm.

After I regained my breath and what was left of my brain, I looked around for a towel and saw Maddy staring at me with a smile, she got up, went to my clothes and tossed them to me.

“That will help a great deal JerBear – thanks. I believe I may require your services again - I'll contact you if I do”.

I was pretty brain-dead at this point, but I got dressed and Maddy led me out to the house and to the door. She thanked me again and shut the door behind me as I stepped out into the cool night air.

I stood on the sidewalk for a minute and thought “what the heck just happened? Did I upset her or did I please her? Why did she do that, and why was she committing that visual to memory? And, what if anything should I do next?

A refrain from a favorite John Prine song came to me as I got into my car and started it up. “You got to suffer if you want to sing the blues …” Guess he knew what he was talking about!

*********************************************************************************

Maddy stared at the door for some time after JerBear left, and then was finally able to let out her breath. Until then she didn’t know if she was going to explode or just lose it. She felt an exhilarating mixture of emotions; relief, power and pure lust. Something had come over her when she saw her workers directing JerBear into such sexually visual and (for him) vulnerable positions – and his reluctant – yet total - compliance with their demands. It was a feeling she’d had for sometime now, the desire to have complete control over the male and to own his penis for her pleasure. She hadn’t thought consciously about those feelings when she set up the meeting with JerBear, but they came rushing to the forefront of her thoughts when he was on the model stage and the opportunity was basically dropped into her lap. It took all her not-minimal professional skills and demeanor to let her workers complete their drawings before she ushered them out the door and she could then begin her real work.

She walked back to the studio and flipped through the various sketches completed that night. Her workers had been technically proficient and captured JerBear well in the settings each were working on – but there was still something missing. Suddenly it clicked in her brain. Passion, all the passion was missing. The drawings weren’t “hot” like the session itself was. She went over to her desk and looked at her fountain rendering. It was dramatically different than the others; somehow alive. She’d captured JerBear’s look of slight embarrassment and complete desire while he stroked himself. She smiled at the memory of his face when she commanded him not to come. Desire, confusion and need were all in play. Yes, she had captured a “live” moment and could relive it again at any time.

Maddy shut off the lights and went to her room. It contained another desk (for those times when she woke up at night with an idea that needed immediate work), a stuffed reading chair, a lamp and her bed. Otherwise the rest of the room was filled with bookshelves. They contained her reference books, her projects and her magazines. Reaching for one of the magazines, she flipped on her reading light and plopped down in the chair- throwing one of her legs over the large stuffed arm for comfort.

It was a picture magazine, filled with page after page of young nude men. It was a secret pastime of Maddy’s to occasionally indulge in what she considered her “guilty pleasures”. But, she thought, that was kind of changing now wasn’t it? She didn’t feel any guilt about today’s session with JerBear and, she did feel quite a bit of pleasure with it. She closed her eyes and thought back to the visual she said she “wanted to commit to memory for later work”; JerBear frozen in concentration, trying so hard not to come and yet so obviously wanting to do so with every muscle in his body. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop him and it was almost in desperation that she commanded him to grab and pull hard on his erect cock. But stop him she did, and the satisfaction of being able to demand or delay his orgasm, to “own” the sex, was powerful.

Maddy unsnapped her jeans and pulled down the zipper. She slid one hand down between her legs. Her fingers were momentarily cool but warmed up quickly. She started to massage herself while she thought of what she wanted to do next. A light smile played across her lips as she sank deep into the warm pleasure of her own body.


Hazing the Intern – a Maddy McDonald story

Richard paused at the door straightened the knot of his tie and buttoned his new jacket so that it hung just right. The suit was a present from his father – a reward for finishing at the top in his architecture class and as a way to make a good impression on his prospective new employer, Maddy McDonald.

Maddy owned a prestigious firm and traditionally granted three internships to the top graduates. After a year with Maddy, the interns could expect to be highly recruited by any number of other firms. Richard’s father had also bragged up him up several of his business friends assuring them that Richard was a cinch to work for Maddy. Feeling confident and knowing he looked the part of up and coming successful architect, Richard knocked on Maddy’s office door with authority.

Maddy’s office was a working studio. She was leaning over the design table and didn’t look up until he was directly across from her. She was a trim woman in her late 40’s or early 50’s and was wearing her work clothes - a silk blouse over blue jeans. She looked up over the rim of her glasses and the eyes that studied him were both intense and sparkly. She was used to being in charge and immediately did so now. Dispensing with social niceties, she started directing Richard as if he was already in her employ.

“Sit over by the window; I want to get a good look at you in natural light”

This seemed an unusual interview request, but Richard really hadn’t been on interviews before and Maddy’s take charge attitude didn’t seem to leave room for questions. She continued only when he was positioned in front of the extra large windows.

“I really like to support the local college and have made it a something of a custom to offer internships to the top three students each year. I’m thinking that I can only do two this time though …”

Startled, Richard immediately thought of poor Lana, she was a good kid even if she was a little needy in the study group that Richard formed for the top three students. He believed a natural competition would develop which would help them all excel. Instead, Ellen and Lana had become fast friends and needled Richard every chance they got. I told her she had to get serious and take more initiative if she wanted to beat out Ellen for the number two spot. Now she isn’t going to get the internship. Her family is going to be pretty disappointed in her.

But Maddy continued;“I’m fortunate to have this rather large project going on. It’s a design and construction of a large entertainment facility – for erotic women! It’s called ‘Woodpeckers’ and I just feel that female designers would have more design insights to offer.”

Richard felt his heart fall to the floor. Was she saying that he wasn’t her first choice? But he needed this internship! He’d been so confident in receiving it; he hadn’t bothered to line up any other interviews. By now, all of the good positions would have been filled. And his father had bragged of him receiving this job to all of his friends, so they couldn’t be approached for help either. Maddy went on;

“So Dick, may I call you Dick?”

Richard physically blanched; he had hated the name Dick ever since high school. He had what he considered the misfortune of being extremely well endowed. He’d been on the swim team and the suits they wore left very little to the imagination when wet. The girls had started calling him “Big Dick” or making jokes about swimming with a rudder. Richard was very embarrassed about the girls calling constant attention to his member and he soon quit the team and henceforth referred to himself as “Richard”. Now, with his first job opportunity even that measure of decorum was removed.

Maddy went on without waiting for Richard to reply.

“It’s not your fault that I have this unusual project, so I’m willing to make you this offer. The women will need an assistant for some of their projects. If you’re willing to help them with what they need I’ll keep you on through this project and then you can be here to help with actual design on the next one.”

Richard felt a flush of relief, being an assistant to the girls he beat all through college was a pain and not a little humiliating, but at least he still had a chance to make his dreams come true.

“Of course Ms. McDonald, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you make this project a success!” he heard himself say.

“I was hoping you’d say that Dick” she said, “Let’s start right away. You’re a bit overdressed for what we’ll need. Why don’t you take off that jacket and tie and stand here by the window. I need an actual model for perspective on this drawing.”

She moved back around the design table while Richard did as requested. She looked up and said;

“It’s still not right. Dick I need you to take off your whole suit please.”

Richard felt like he was on a roller coaster. He’d come here prepared to cordially accept a job offer, been shot down, offered a second chance and now told to remove his clothes. Because of the size of his member, he’d become a very modest person, one who loved dressing professionally to distract others from his discomfort at being looked at. One of the reasons he did so well in his studies is that he wanted to keep every relationship on an intellectual level. In a matter of minutes Maddy had emotionally stripped him of his defenses. Maddy sensed his hesitancy

“Look Dick, if you don’t want to do this I understand. But then I have to ask you to leave right now. I do have a lot of work to get done yet today. So it is your choice. What will it be?”

Once again Maddy focused her intense stare at Richard.

Richard could feel his face becoming heated and flushed. This wasn’t fair! But he needed this opportunity and couldn’t see a way out. And Maddy obviously wasn’t going to debate the issue. So he turned to the wall, unbuttoned his shirt is laid it over the chair. He unbuckled his belt, slowly pulled his zipper down and then stepped out of his pants entirely. Only then did he turn around to face Maddy, wearing only his socks and boxer shorts.

“Dick” she said, her voice very even but emphatic “I think I just told you that this project is for an erotic woman’s club. Maybe you think that socks and boxer shorts are somehow erotic to women. Let me then be the first woman to assure you that they are not! Now, are you going to assist me or not?"

Richard felt hot, embarrassed and humiliated. But he’d come this far and he knew she knew he’d do what she asked. So he slid his thumbs into the waistband and pulled his boxers off. The socks came off too. He’d never felt more shamed in his life as he lifted his head to see if she was staring at him. She wasn’t. In fact, she was engrossed in her drawing – adding lines with quick sure strokes of her pencil. Finally she looked up and shook her head.

“Dick, we want you facing me and leaning back against the wall. We need you to display all” (she glanced down at his thick penis) “you got for these erotic women”. She looked back at his penis, studying it for a while. “And we’ll have to move you far from Titus, he’s so large, he’ll make your penis look way too small”

Richard felt his flushed face heat up again and he felt an involuntary twitch in his penis. “No!” he thought “now is NOT the time for his penis to respond”. Luckily, Maddy place her cool hands on his chest and pushed him gently against the wall. “Now just lean back like that and show what you do have to the women. I think I might be able to make do with it in this drawing. We’ll have time later to get you to work on your … presentation”.

Richard wondered just what THAT meant, but Maddy went back to her table and spent the next few minutes drawing fast, occasionally glancing up to make sure she had it right. Finally she set down her pencil and looked up at the clock. “Great” she said. “I got my part done just in time. Ellen and Lana should be here any minute and they can take over”.

Richard’s mind froze in shock. They can’t possibly see me in this position, forced to model in the nude just to hang on for a chance at a job. Not after beating them in all the tests and pushing them so they could have a chance at a job. One that thay had just been awarded over him! And if he was so shocked and embarrassed, why did his penis keep twitching like that? Especially now?

***************************************************************

Richard heard the sound of the girls laughing in the hallway and grabbed his boxers just before the door opened. Ellen and Lana came through together and stopped as soon as they spotted Richard against the wall, holding his boxers over his crotch and looking a bit scared a bit guilty and a whole lot of embarrassed. Blonde Ellen was the outspoken leader of the two and always started the new round of Richard teasing; she was the first to regain her composure.

“Richard you’ll do absolutely anything to get ahead, won’t you?”

They both laughed until Maddy cleared her throat as a signal to be quiet.

“While I want this to be fun, we do have a serious deadline to meet and we need to get a lot done in a short time. I’ve just told Dick”

(the girls each started laughing at this use of his name but stopped when they saw the look in Maddy’s eyes), she continued.

“I’ve just told Dick that he is to assist each of you in whatever you need done to complete the assignments. I need you to do work that will be enjoyed and appreciated by the women of Woodpeckers. So take charge and ask Richard for whatever you need.”

She glanced over at Richard and gave him a slightly scornful look. “Dick, once and for all, would you drop your boxers – or if you’re not … up … for the task, just let me know and I’ll find someone else!”

Richard felt like crawling into a hole and hiding from embarrassment. But at the same time, he felt strangely energized and alive. His penis had been twitching since the girls came in the room (it didn’t help that their eyes hadn’t left his crotch) and with his hands over it he could feel it starting to swell. He knew the girls well enough to know that they were going to be teasing him about this for a long time anyway, so he simply shrugged his shoulders and tossed his boxers back onto the pile of his other discarded clothes. The girls both gasped simultaneously, taken aback by the size of his penis. Even though it was still flaccid, the attention had started his blood pumping and his dick had lengthened a little more in the short time he’d dropped his shorts.

Ellen picked up where she had left off. “Well hello Dick”! She said.

And while the girls continued smiling, Maddy’s warning was enough to push them into action. Apparently Maddy had already told them what their assignments were to be because the girls each went to a drafting table in the room and started setting up. Emboldened by Ellen and Maddy, Lana explained to Richard what they needed him to do.

“We’re working on a large mural for the wall across from the viewing fountain. From here, women can relax with a glass of wine and watch the guys in the water. We need you to stand against the windows while we do our sketches. That will be most like the actual setting.”

She tucked a strand of her long brunette hair back behind her ear and looked up into Richard’s eyes. “So, ‘Dick’ how about moving over there?”

Richard shuffled over a few feet without much enthusiasm. Lana continued; “Ellen that isn’t what I had in mind – how about you?” While Ellen shook her head in agreement Lana stood up and went over to Richard. Reaching out and grabbing his penis in her hand, she gave a quick tug and led him by his dick up against the window! She was secretly stunned by the girth in her hand and she could barely reach all the way around. But she made sure to act like it was no big deal and something she did all the time. She had him spread his legs apart and once he was properly positioned, she stepped between his knees and pushed his penis firmly against his stomach, backing him up against the window itself. Only then did she let go and return to her table.

Richard was stunned at being handled so forcibly. And by Lana, whom he was forever berating for a lack of serious attention to work! He was also shocked at his physical reaction. He’d always ignored his sex drive as a distraction from his work and studies. But his body was reacting on its own now, and judging from the early stages of erection – his dick was enjoying the attention it was receiving from this crew.Maddy brought him back from his penis reverie

“Dick, recall that I said we needed to work on your presentation? Well this is what I was talking about. Woodpeckers is famous for the number of well endowed men who work there. If we are going to use you for the mural we have to … enlarge your physique. I think we are going to need you ‘standing at attention’ so to speak. Or you just won’t look interesting enough.”

Richard felt his face grow how and flush again. All this time he’d been shy about his size and was now being told that he wasn’t quite measuring up to expectations! Richard wasn’t used to failing at anything and he certainly didn’t want to start now in front of the girls. Maddy seemed to want him erect, but he couldn’t just will that in to happening, so what was she suggesting? Besides, it was uncomfortable enough to be standing nude in front of the open window. It faced the campus quad and there were students walking back and forth from their dorm rooms to their classes. A nude model in a studio window was unusual, but it wouldn’t be the first time either. But one with a full erection – Richard wasn’t even sure he could handle the potential embarrassment. Ellen being a natural “take charge” type sized up Richard’s dilemma and took over.

“Richard, umm I mean ‘Dick’, we want you totally erect for this drawing and you are going to have to hold that position for a while so we can get it down. You don’t seem to have a natural ability to do that – or perhaps” and at this she looked deep in his eyes and displayed her impish grin “it’s a lack of experience! I think that may be it, isn’t it ‘Dick’? Well, don’t worry; we’ll talk you through it. You just do what we say and ‘Dick’ – don’t think, you have to FEEL now.”

Richard felt a certain sense of relief at this. He would be able to follow Ellen’s lead. But oddly he also felt a certain warmth flooding through his groin. He wanted to please these women and show them that he could ‘measure up’ to their standards. Ellen looked up at the clock and the wall and said; “Dick, we need to get started here, we’re wasting time”. Richard didn’t know what time limits were involved, but supposed it had to do with getting the mural project done.

Ellen began giving directions while both she and Lana bent over their design tables in anticipation.

“Dick, why don’t you start by bouncing your penis in the palm of your hand, let’s get some blood flowing there!”

Richard did as he was told. Slowly at first, but as he felt it lengthening and gaining weight he exerted a little more enthusiasm until the women in the room could hear the slapping sound it made as it struck his palm. Ellen then had him change it up a little.

“That’s good Dick, I can see it starting to stiffen nicely. Now hold your shaft with just your finger tips so that the head of your penis is pressed up against your palm. … That’s right … now twirl the shaft around so that your penis head is rubbing on your palm.”

Richard wondered how Ellen knew just what would feel good to him. But she certainly did. As he kept the motion up he could feel his erection harden while his penis went from sticking out towards the girls to pointing straight up. He could see the girls exchange glances and quick grins with each other between hurried sketches with their pencils. They both glanced up at the clock from time-to-time. Ellen continued with her directions;

“OK, Dick, I want you to start at your balls and drag your finger tips the full length of your shaft right up to the head. And then slowly push back down. … Yes, that’s right! All the way to your balls again and then dragging them back up lightly.”

The women drew for some time while they sporadically encouraged Richard in his manual stimulations. As they noticed he breath becoming louder and deeper Ellen changed up the action once again.

“We need to back it off a little Dick” as she looked up at the clock “But we don’t want you to lose any elevation”. She grinned at her own little joke. “Now I want you to lick your finger … that’s right … and rub this wetness around your slit of your penis. That’s right, go slowly and slide it down the length of the slit and then up one side and over the slit and down the other side. That’s right! But go slowly … we have a lot of drawing to do yet.”

She looked up at the clock. “It looks like it’s dragging a little bit, lick your finger again.” She waited until he did so and then continued her directions. “Start over again slowly Dick. Run it down the slit and massage it in. Can you push down into the slit? … Good! Massage there slowly for a minute then back off and slide your finger around.”

Richard felt proud that he was performing so admirably for the women. But he was also starting to build up unbelievable pressure in his dick. His hips kept thrusting out involuntarily as his penis sought friction to push against. But Ellen’s directions only included light touches and his penis was only being teased to a harder and harder state. His shaft felt heavy and wooden and he had to fight the urge to grab and squeeze it hard.Lana was the first to notice.

“Oh that’s good Dick, you’re starting to precum!” Richard looked down and saw that there was clear liquid running down the underside of his penis head. Ellen took verbal command of the situation.“Dick, you have to retain control of your erection now, but we want to use the precum. I want you to grasp your shaft with your fingers pointing down and your dick head in your palm again. That’s right. Now slide your hand up and down the shaft while you rotate your palm around your head whenever you pull up. Yeeeees …. That’s right. Keep doing that, but go slowly.”

Richard did as told, but had to fight to maintain control. He was starting to lose focus on the women in the room and of his surroundings. Ellen’s voice cut through the pleasure fog and brought him back.

“Dick, let’s change it up a little. We need you to hang in there … we’re still drawing. Your erection is so stiff it’s making your dick point straight up.”

Ellen’s description was spot on, Richard thought. Except that it isn’t pointing as much as reaching an explosion state! Her clinical description though did serve to bring him back to reality and stop his need for release - at least for right this second! Even so, he felt relieved when she continued.

“So I want you to push your dick down and to the side. Yes, like that. Push it down enough so that your dick head rubs against your thigh. Yes, like that. That should keep your erection going, but slow you down a little too.”And to Richard it did just that. His penis head was getting very sensitive and his smooth thigh felt like silk. By now, he was ready to explode! But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t show that kind of weakness in front of Ellen and Lana – not to mention Maddy! He needed to tough this out … if only he could hold on through this design session … if only. Ellen and Lana were checking out the clock again. At this point, Richard didn’t know why and didn’t much care, especially when Ellen gave him his new instructions.

“Dick, we’re almost – but not quite done with our sketches. Lana and I” she looked over and Lana nodded “need to see you cum too!” Richard looked both startled and slightly relieved. “We really don’t know if we’ve captured the true essence of the experience otherwise, and we want to be true to the work – don’t you?” Richard was beyond blushing at this point. He was flushed, but not from embarrassment. It was the pleasure of the action and the internal fight to avoid release that was creating his heat. And now he was free to continue. But Ellen wanted to direct even that part of the action. Here’s what I want you to do;

“Very lightly, using only your finger tips, pull up on your shaft ... traveling from the base to the head, let go and then pull up again. Yes, just like that Dick. Your erection wants something to push against, so I don't push down, only slooooly pull up.” Richard felt his penis head continue to swell during all of this attention and now it felt almost wooden. His pelvis started involuntarily thrusting and each time he did, his dick swung back and forth, it's only looseness was at the very base - otherwise it was so totally rigid that it swung back and forth like a metronome - moving in counterpoint to the direction his hips thrust out. Richard kept this up until his precum was running down from his slit, over his penis head and onto the shaft. He heard Ellen’s clear voice again, “now you must grasp your dick and pull your whole hand up and down over the precum so it slides smoothly. That’s right … now squeeze harder and harder while doing and up and down. You should be able to feel the pressure building in your balls, but just squeeze your dick harder and keep sliding your hand.”Richard could feel the juices flowing from his balls and physically felt it pulse in his hand as he tightly gripped his shaft. There was a momentarily pause when his hand restricted the flow and then it felt like his dick head split open and his cum shot out! It came in three streams, shooting up in the air – hanging momentarily and then dropping to the ground. Richard continued to hold his dick for a few seconds and there wasn’t a sound in the room.

Suddenly he heard a loud cheer from his side and he looked out the window. There, gathered just outside, was a group of women from his class! They were clapping and waving at him and had obviously been there for much of the show. Now he knew what the clock watching had been all about. Ellen and Lana had set this all up and he turned to them accusingly. But before he could say a word, Maddy stood up and spoke;

“Well Dick, or I think that after today, I may choose to call you Richard. That was done better than I expected. I have to admit that I didn’t believe you had it in you, but Lana and Ellen seemed quite sure of it. Don’t blame them for this, it was my idea. Before I approved of bringing in a male to work as a team with women, I needed to know that you could be made to be accommodating if we so desired. This was more than a modeling exercise for you, by …. Shall we say ‘completing’ … this assignment? I believe we can keep you on for the rest of the project.” She turned to Ellen and Lana, “ladies, he’s all yours” and she left the room.Richard felt totally spent; physically, sexually, emotionally and mentally. But he also felt oddly alive and exhilarated. He had earned his job and was part of the design team. And yes, he’d be teased endlessly now … but somehow he knew it would all work out. He looked up at the girls and smiled. Lana broke the silence “get your clothes on ‘Dick’, let’s go get a beer.”

She smiled and once again – Richard complied!