Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Monday, March 9, 2015
Sunday, August 31, 2014
The Second Appearance
I'm supposed to tell you about the second appearance at the CFNM club outside Chicago.
I actually had forgotten that I had promised Kathy that if my posing did not improve, I would repeat the experience at Ms. Compton's nightclub. I thought it had improved, but she thought not. Also, I had resolved never to be in another physique contest since I saw an empty hypodermic on a bench nearby, and knew that it was for steroids, a step I was not going to take, but which would have been essential for the next plateau, so I was a bit nervous anyway. I had also forgotten that I promised she could be the judge of how well I did. Well, this would be the last time, I promised myself. I argued, but Kathy was insistent.
It had been two months since the last appearance and I had come to think back on that first time as actually kind of arousing, seeing the faces of the eager and wild women or gals looking at my eventually naked body and fondling here and there. But another time? No, I was not ready for that and my mind instantly slipped back to the apprehension or fear I had the first time. I just could not do this again!
"Be at my place the night before," Kathy said.
Now, Kathy and I just didn't have sex. Not that she was gay, although I wouldn't have thought anything about that. It's just that she keeps a very compartmentalized mind. She has guys for sex, when she feels like it, and others, well, like me. This is how she put it to me: "Every so often the feeling comes over me, the feeling that I want to own and use a man, to satisfy my lust for power, to hurt and to enjoy the humiliation. The craving comes over me and builds, and eventually I want to overpower him, use him, against his will, and see him squirm for me."
So I was not looking forward to the visit, but then I knew the next night was the appearance, so I figured she just wanted me handy or was taking no chances. I learned differently when she ordered my to strip and lie on my back. Next she carefully shaved off all my body hair and she said "The standards have changed at Compton's," and told me what was expected as she finished shaving. She then gave me a Viagra and told me to rest until the morning. She also tied something in what she called a Kali ring so I'd "behave myself and be ready for tomorrow."
It was actually during the 60 minute drive to the show that I grew more and more apprehensive. It is one thing to look back on something and quite another to be facing something that probably would be much worse and humiliating. With each mile, I grew more nervous, often looking out the window, even wishing I could get out and walk home, but I knew that would not happen. She also gave me a bottle of water and a couple more tablets, saying take these and then the ring comes off. I wasted no time in taking them as that damn ring could hurt. You will have to find out for yourself why and how, but I was glad it was off. It was the one positive part of the long, long, drive.
As we arrived, the parking lot was almost full. I could see groups of younger women arriving, looking around, laughing and giggling. Oh, they were having a fine time, but I was getting increasingly apprehensive. I just could not face it again. It seemed so silly, foolish, I wasn't going to show off and parade myself as if I thought I was so desirable.
I looked at Kathy and said "I just can't do this again Can't I do something else instead. I just can't.
She just grabbed me by my ear and pulled me toward her. She said, "Look, I got this all set up and I've already been paid. Angie has promised the girls a special treat and there is no way you are going to disappoint anyone, especially me."
"Paid? You sold me? What is this?"
Then she told me how much money was at stake (about two months salary for me) and promised me 20%. That wasn't bad and at least I would have more than ego to justify it, and I could use the money, but still I felt nervous and hesitated. She grabbed my by the ear after opening the door and pulled me out. Soon I was at the back door of the place and I wasted no more time in getting in and to the changing rooms.
"I can't dance!" I said to the woman in charge.
"We've arranged for that," she said, "just remember how we strip here," and pointed to the dressing room after handing me my "costume," saying "The rest will be handed to you," and left. I remembered. You do NOT strip slowly. You rip off the first piece and wait for the noise to diminish a bit, then rip of the next.
As I got into the locker, I looked at what she put in my hand. It was nothing more than a piece of mesh with a string attached to one end and then to another string that ran through the other end and tied like a Speedo. It was nothing. The costume this time was a kind of Batman deal and the mask was to come off right before the string.
When I was ready, Ms. Compton pushed me out and the music started, the theme, of course. The screaming was intense and unnerving. When I saw into the crowd a couple girls I knew, I became even more anxious -- what if I ever saw them again? But I could not go back. With each piece of the costume I ripped off, the crowd became more raucous, again having fun, whistling, screaming, some covering their mouths as they giggled or laughed, some yelling "More," and I had to continue. This went on for at least ten minutes until I was down to the net pouch and the Viagra certainly had taken over. I was so hard it hurt and I wanted to be touched.
Suddenly, as I was about to take of the mask, I heard something behind me despite the screaming. Two girls on each side grabbed a wrist and raised it and a third fastened it to a binding piece of cloth. Then they had attached thin metal pieces of wire to strategic parts of my anatomy and secured them with thin strips of electric tape. Then Ms. Compton had come over, holding the mike, saying "Let me help you with the mask. You're all tied up. Isn't he girls?" and they screamed again.
Right then I felt most vulnerable, helpless and defenseless, tied and exposed, and would have fled if I could, and I'm sure that's why my wrists were tied to the frame. No escape, completely at the mercy of the crowd of frantic women.
Then some other music started with a heavy syncopated beat. Thump, thump, thump thump, thump, and so on and the wires shocked me so hard I twisted away, each thump sent a charge to a different wire. I was writhing out there on the stage, hard as ever, girls screaming, in pain myself from the twisting and the hardness when after the longest time she pulled off the mesh to screams!
Eventually, it was all over. There was money on the stage. The contraption I was on was wheeled away with me as I had nearly collapsed and the girls in the audience were rushing the stage. You can imagine the rest of it backstage yourself, but I swore "God, never again!"