Page 8 of The Party Boy


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And in an added whim of cruelty, I always diapered him most securely with his penis drawn between his legs, its growing length bringing the tip almost to his rectum. Thus the slightest tumescence brought great discomfort, not a smidgeon of room for engorgement.

Jack would learn that his relationship with women would be to obey, adore and bring pleasure... but not necessarily to himself.

Empowered, I tamed the vaunted male organ. Poor Jack. Ha, ha, ha

Chapter Fourteen

“I’ll need a chair, straight backed, from the dining room will do,” I advise as the budding dominatrix hands me a wad of cash. I don’t count it; reasonably assured the women would not short change me.

Jack is accustomed to rituals. I don’t want him overly distracted. I am confident he will adequately perform for me... more than adequately. But there is no point to chancing disappointment. Consistency is important.

So I will milk and masturbate him as I have been doing for many years. Sitting on my lap, absent is my nurse’s uniform, but fully clothed. He’s adaptable to that extent.

I stuff the money in my bag and grab the tube of unguent and a towel. As the chair is positioned, in the living room where the cadre of women can observe, some needing to stand afar in the adjoining dining room, I grasp Jack by his balls and tug. He knows to step from his make shift pedestal and follow.

I am sure he is aware of the request, the augmentation of our CFNM display.

“You’re going to sit on my lap like a good boy,” I coo, the words are a precursor and are known to prime his glands.

I lead to the chair, toss the towel to the carpet, sit, then push and prod until my hooded former ward straddles my thighs.

“Sit,” I command.

Then I pull his hands from his head and whisk away the hood. For the first time, Jack faces his many admirers, if such is the appropriate term. He blinks, eyes adjusting. He’s heard their voices, felt their many hands and fingers. He’s performed for them, urinating at my command. But now he must return their rapt gazes, for the first time realizing how many... dozens.

Two reactions... Jack blushes, knowing to obediently return his hands to his head. And his penis seems to stiffen more.

At times, I must wonder if the Cialis is necessary. Yet, this is business... the entertainment business. We cannot let down (such a punster).

“Jack, these women like observing handsome humbled men. Say hello. Give them a waggle.”

An obedient Jack knows to pull on his pubococcygeus muscles, indeed waggling his engorged penis in response. The deed brings laughter.

“Good boy. They want to see me masturbate you. Isn’t that nice?” I coo, mother to child.

Speechless, Jack nods.

“Would you like to ejaculate for them... like a big boy?”

He nods again.

“No, Jack. Ask the women for permission to ejaculate.”

A sheepish Jack, never to be fully accustomed to his display of erect nakedness, speaks.

“May I perform for you... ejaculate,” the words muddled but discernible.

This brings boisterous laughter, the crowd greatly amused, many women simultaneously offering verbal concurrence. The budding dominatrix appears particularly enthused.

As this daunting form of foreplay unfolds, I open the tube and begin what was a daily ritual in governing a younger Jack, coating two fingers of my left hand, the palm of my right.

“Well, ladies, if you have not before masturbated a boy, perhaps I can be somewhat enlightening. They all enjoy anal penetration. Don’t ever let them lie to you about that,” slipping the index finger and middle finger into Jack’s rectum as I speak. “Some like it bigger and deeper, but it’s a primary male erogenous zone not to be ignored.”

Jack’s penis confirms my conjecture, happily waggling in response, bringing more laughter.

“And you must establish control. Jack here is trained not to touch himself, keeping his hands on his head. For your husbands and boyfriends consider tethering their hands. You’ll find there is an anomaly in the male psyche when it comes to sexual matters... they want to rush... but they are saddened after rushing. That’s why it is best for the woman to be in control. Men are immature when it comes to orgasms... want their cake and eat it too.”

Ending my lecture, my right arm reaches to Jack’s front. I always enjoy feeling the initial spasm of joy when I first grasp his eager manhood. Jack does not disappoint. I note that he closes his eyes in shame.

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