My Life as an Exhibitionist - A CFNM Saga


The Early Years

Firstly, let me describe myself. I have never been the guy who attracts women by being obviously handsome. Some of my mates had merely to enter a room of women, and immediately experience one or more girls "hitting on them". However I am tall, blond and blue-eyed. My best features, as described by various girlfriends, are my long, straight legs, my "fuck me eyes", a firm butt, my almost complete lack of bodily hair (except the head), a slim, athletic torso and a fun, uninhibited personality (as well as not being ugly). Certainly not muscular -- my athleticism comes from timing, flexibility and balance, not strength. After a while I also found that my cock was a little above average in length, exaggerated by the fact that, when flaccid, it did not shrink very much. When erect, it merely stood up, rather than grow to any appreciable extent. Even later still, I discovered that I had quite amazing sexual staying power.

Being a good student, particularly in Maths and Physics, I won a scholarship to University, to earn a B Sc. The year I commenced coincided with it being upgraded from a College of Technology, to a full University, with a brand new campus, but still specialising in Science and Engineering in its early years. Only a few buildings had been completed at the start, and construction continued throughout my time there. Not many girls took those courses in those days, and classes were quite small anyway. The combination of being at the beginning, with only a small population meant several things -- the students became very close, and the staff gave us more leeway than I believe an older University might have given.

By the time we reached our third year (and final undergraduate year), we were a very close and friendly group. My earlier shyness had vanished. The "Roundhouse" had been completed, and this housed the Student Union and its Library, Cafeteria, and other facilities. It was the social centre between classes. We had heard of group "streaks" at other campuses, and a group of us planned the inaugural streak around the Library. There were about 20 of us. None of the girls joined in, but were in full attendance to cheer us on. We were all apprehensive that the authorities might take a dim view of our escapade, but this proved not to be the case. Although we had a large, boisterous audience, only a couple of staff witnessed the event, and although not wanting to appear amused, they showed no negative reaction to proceedings. The streak probably lasted less than a minute, but my exhilaration was boundless. I cannot say it was a sexual experience. It was the thrill of doing something naughty, forbidden and somewhat rare, but which clearly entertained and amused so many, and of both sexes. This was my first experience of public nudity, and I was hooked.

As the year went on, the stakes were lifted gradually. We responded to dares, some of which were issued by the girls. I guess these events were limited to less than 10 occasions during the year, ranging from streaking between buildings, around the car park and the gardens, to four of us sitting nude in the cafeteria as we nonchalantly ate our lunch. I once took a dare to stand naked in the cafeteria queue, select my lunch, pay for it at the cashier, take it back to my table, and eat it, remaining naked the whole time. It was daring, but not as much as one might think. Most of the cafeteria staff were students working part-time, and the teaching staff rarely ate there, and the Administration never did.

Away from the campus, parties were always being entertained by guys who would "hang the moon", and respond to calls to "get your gear off". This was always met with laughter, cheering, and plenty of encouragement. "Taking my gear off" became my specialty, and it became expected of me. After a while, I began staying undressed after my act, and "mingling". Eventually I even arrived naked at a friend's 21st party, as part of the planned entertainment, and stayed that way most of the night. I never saw anyone, male or female, offended by this behaviour, either by myself, or by the other guys who would "get their gear off". Even though the girls all shouted encouragement, not too many wanted to be seen as my date, or to appear too eager to start up a protracted conversation with me. This did not concern me. I just enjoyed being the entertainer. In any case, anyone who did hang around, usually did so out of inquisitiveness, rather than for being "turned on".

After University, I went to Teachers' College for a year. There was a majority of girls at College, but discipline was tight, and even minor breaches of the rules were not tolerated. Budding schoolteachers were expected to be exemplary. So nakedness at College was not an option. However away from College, we had parties, at which I could be uninhibited, and such parties were usually like most of the others at that time -- someone generally got their gear off, or a group would hang the moon. I soon found I was being invited to parties by people I hardly knew, sometimes by girls, not as their date, but as the entertainment.

One day at College I was approached by a girl I had seen around, but did not know. Although obviously embarrassed, she came quickly to the point. One of her friends outside the College was getting married. She was giving her a "kitchen tea party", and would I like to be the entertainment. She had recognised me at College as someone she had seen a few times at parties. This was to be a Saturday afternoon informal gathering, where the girlfriends of the bride-to-be gave her small gifts that she could use in her house, usually for the kitchen. They would sit around gossiping, eating little snacks, and sipping a little wine and/or tea and coffee. Her husband-to-be was probably going to attend a "bucks' night", and be entertained by a stripper. So why can't a girl have a hens' night?

I had been to a few bucks' nights, but had not heard of a similar hens' night. What exactly was I to do?

As we discussed detail, the girl seemed to become even more embarrassed, and other than emphasising that there were to be no sex acts, she gave very little input. It was left to me to come up with ideas. I accepted the offer and spent a very exciting few weeks formulating my plan.

On the day of the party, I arrived a little early, and asked to be taken to a room not in use. I asked her to come and get me when most of the invitees had arrived, and the presents given, but before snacks and drinks began. I said that I would serve them. When she left, I stripped off and waited. I had shaved off what little pubic hair I had, so as to accentuate my nakedness. By the time she came to get me, my anticipation was so great that I could not avoid an erection. This had not happened to me before, in all my previous naked acts. I was embarrassed, she was embarrassed. Not since my first streak in the library was I somewhat reluctant to go out nude. We waited a little while, but I knew the erection was not going away. So the show must go on. The girls were expecting a male stripper, so I figured that they would not be offended, even if I had an erection. So I followed my host into the room where about twenty girls were waiting quietly. I savoured their reaction. There was a moment of silence, then a few gasps, then some shrieks, and finally loud applause mixed with laughter. I followed the host into her kitchen, took some plates of hors d'oeuvres and carried them back into the girls, offering them one by one, as nonchalantly as I could. Once or twice I could not help a little laugh at a comment, or a reaction, but I tried hard to behave as any normal waiter would -- polite and unobtrusive. The girls were not too boisterous, and also polite and even lady-like. It was as if they were reluctant to be seen as prudes on the one hand, or as loose women on the other. There was more admiration of my butt, than my cock, but my clean-shaven status drew a lot of comment. They were just as interested in each other's individual reactions as they were in me. I continued to serve the snacks and drinks until there were only a few girls left. I responded to conversation briefly, and politely. The party had gone on for nearly two hours, yet I still had my erection. I was issuing plenty of pre-cum, which I tried to surreptitiously wipe away, especially when I returned to the kitchen. However one of the girls took great delight in pointing it out -- I think it had not gone unnoticed, but that the others were a little too polite or embarrassed to comment on it. The fact that this was a planned, and expected naked performance, witnessed only by fully clothed and appreciative females, and that I was their servant, even though not in any overt sexual way, was a different turn-on for me -- as demonstrated by the erection. However the turn-on was still more to do with the naughtiness and novelty of the situation, and that now the audience was fully complicit.

With the host, the bride-to-be and two others remaining, I was invited to sit down and relax. The girls asked a few questions about how I felt in this situation, how often I did it, what other naked activities I engaged in and how I felt about them. I answered briefly and honestly. My erection quickly subsided. After a little while someone suggested we wind it up. I was asked to allow the bride-to-be a final close-up inspection, and as I stood, moved closer to her, and obeyed her instructions to turn around, and come closer, my erection sprang back to life with a vengeance. The other girls started calling for the bride-to-be to take the matter into her own hands, but even though she kept me posing within reach for a considerable time, she did not touch me. I remember hoping that I would be asked to touch myself, but this request never came. Eventually after some words of thanks from the host and bride-to-be, I left the room, dressed and went home. Other than seeing the host around the College a few times with polite exchanges of greetings, I am unaware of seeing any of the girls again. Without knowing the terminology at the time, this was my first truly CFNM experience, and it was certainly my most enjoyable nude-in-public performance to date. More was to come, but I would have to wait a few years.




New Partners, Experiences, Experimentation and Martha's Magical Mystery Tour

Following my Birthday party, Diana moved into my apartment, and she arranged another couple of similar events. Participants always included Alice, her best friend; Sonya, her friend from work; Joan, her ex-landlady and our neighbours, Rodney and Allan. They in turn invited a few of their friends. I would welcome them at the door, naked, serve drinks, join them for conversation and food at my table, clear away the dishes, and serve coffee and liqueur in the lounge room after eating. It was all very normal, apart from my nudity.

Each time I would wear my penis rings with lead, and my wrist, ankle and neck bands. Diana would play a few little games, quite innocuous really, when my cock might get some extra attention, or my bottom accommodating some mild flogging with one of her toys. Diana would have liked to be naked too, but resisted the desire in deference to the fact that these were my little episodes, and there should be no competition from her, only encouragement.

At other times, when in our apartment, we were almost always without clothes. The front door was always open, to allow a breeze, and Rod and Allan would let themselves in each morning we drove them with us to our office, dropping them on the way. Sometimes they were early enough for a cup of tea, before we dressed and left.

Diana began to encourage me to undertake little chores while undressed. I would take our garbage down to the bins in the morning. When we came home, I would undress before going downstairs to the foyer to fetch our mail. I might go back down to the car to fetch something. We would sit out on our little balcony on weekends, to have breakfast, or lunch, sometimes with a fully clothed Rod and Allan, and chat to any other neighbour who might be passing. These people were usually shocked to see one or both of us in the buff, but in time they got used to it, treating us as only a little eccentric.

We were to visit a new world with Martha. She was in her late thirties, and a senior partner in a firm specialising in insolvencies, bankruptcies and corporate reorganisations. She was tall, thin, and almost androgynous. She was always very smartly dressed, but rarely in a feminine way. Her face and hair were quite severe. Soon after my Birthday party, she invited us to her apartment for dinner one night during the week. The apartment was small but luxurious, overlooking the harbour in almost every direction. The furnishings were stark, spare and very expensive, and original oil paintings adorned the walls. The music was usually not loud, but mixing choral with orchestral – a Mahler Symphony or song cycle, some Shostakovich or Richard Strauss.

On our arrival we were introduced to two other guests, both men in their sixties or even seventies, who shared another apartment in her block. The meal was catered, with the chef serving the dishes from the kitchen, and a young girl serving the drinks. Conversation ranged from politics to religion, was animated but polite. After the meal, the caterers left and we moved to the lounge, taking in the view. The conversation turned to sex. The old guys had been gay lovers for over 30 years. Martha announced that she had tried both men and women, but had found little enjoyment with either, until she had discovered her interest in domination and discipline. She had not had normal sex for over 10 years. She described Diana to the men as an over-sexed exhibitionist, verging on nymphomania. Diana was a little embarrassed by this frank but accurate assessment. She then described me as an exhibitionist with as yet untapped potential for being dominated and disciplined.

With no further pleasantries, she suggested that I explore my subservient side by taking my clothes off, and going to the kitchen to make and serve coffee. It was almost by way of an order. I found myself complying without question. The kitchen was adorned with a very professional-looking espresso machine. I found the crockery and accessories already laid out. I could hear conversation from the next room, but not enough to make out what was being said. The noise of the coffee machine did not help.

I returned with a tray of five coffees, sugar cubes and cream. Diana was naked, standing between and close to the two older gentlemen, who studied her intently with eyes and hands. Martha explained that, although homosexual, the gentlemen were lovers of fine arts, particularly sculpture, and greatly admired beauty, whether it was male or female.

As I served the coffees, Diana was invited to sit down and I was asked to stay standing where she had been. The guys put their coffees on the small table beside them, and began to explore my nakedness, with eyes and hands. The touching was much more scholarly than sensual. It was like feeling the texture of cashmere, or silk. Even so, my penis was soon stiffening, and the gentlemen both commented approvingly. Martha picked up my coffee, and brought it to me while the old gays sat back, sipped their own coffee, and continued to study and comment on every aspect of my nudity.

Martha then produced a whip with many strands of soft rubber, which she gave to Diana, telling her to administer some mild discipline to my bottom, as I knelt side-on before the two gentlemen. After a few strokes, Diana was told to increase the effort. One of the guys then asked Diana to stop. One of them softly surveyed my bottom with his hand, to feel any impact the whip was having. Martha then took over, with greater enthusiasm than Diana, before her handiwork was again studied by our gay friend with his soft and inquisitive hand.

Diana was told to replace me and I was offered the whip. This did not appeal to me, and as I refused, Martha asked if I would mind her administering a few strokes.

"As long as Diana agrees" I gallantly responded.

Martha took a smaller but similar whip to Diana's not-too-receptive posterior and our gay surveyor again studied the result with his gentle hand.

We were then invited to sit and describe our feelings, not just towards our own punishment, but to that of each other's.

"I enjoyed it, I must say. Martha was better than Diana, because I felt she was enjoying it, while Diana was seemingly reluctant. But it was the exposure and sense of humiliation and submission that I enjoyed more than the discipline itself. Watching Diana being punished did nothing for me, but I was turned on by her sense of submission and vulnerability."

On the other hand, Diana commented "I did not enjoy my own punishment, nor did I like the feeling of humiliation. But I was thoroughly turned on by his predicament, and I do disagree that I felt reluctant. Sensing his enjoyment is what excites me."

Each gentleman admitted enjoying the spectacle, as much with Diana as with me. They thought we were both beautiful in our own ways, and "jolly good sports."

Martha summarised that she had not been surprised by what she had seen and heard. Although we were both exhibitionists, what bound us was my penchant for submission and humiliation, corresponding to Diana's desire to satisfy me, whilst dominating sexually. "I'd like to suggest we explore these feelings further at my home in the Southern Highlands one weekend soon. I'm sure I can encourage a few of my friends there to help us."




Her country home was less than two hour's drive from Sydney. Martha collected us from home after work on Friday night. The house was magnificent, with sprawling, well-maintained gardens, a pool, and a tennis court. It had been in her family for three generations. A middle-aged couple lived on the property, in a separate building, and it was their job to manage it. Martha would visit it almost every weekend, and took her holidays there. The furnishings were antique, the art 19th century, and all restorations in sympathy with that period.

After a healthy breakfast Saturday morning, we took a dip in the pool, naked of course, and then Martha gave us robes and took us on a tour of the house. The highlight was the auditorium. It was quite a large room, with a stage at one end, and a short runway jutting out into the room from the stage. Behind the stage curtains was a grand piano. Surrounding the runway some twelve or so chairs were set up, with room for maybe 20 more chairs which were stacked against the walls.

Martha explained that she was the patron of the local music society, and small recitals were often given in this room. Occasionally a string quartet would perform, and they enjoyed being naked at the time. We might like to see them some time.

On the runway stood a metal, rope, leather and pulley contraption that reminded me of a piece of gym equipment. Facing the end of the runway was a bench with an adjustable back.

Martha asked me for my robe, and to join her on the runway. She then proceeded to strap me into her apparatus. One leather strap, about three inches wide, was placed behind my shoulders, with my arms extending along it to my wrists which were locked into the strap. Another strap was placed behind my knees. A third strap, which I was told was optional, was placed behind my back, just above the buttocks. These straps were attached via pulleys to a variety of metal posts. She manoeuvred the contraption so that my body went back with the weight on the top two straps, and my feet left the floor. The feet were then separated widely and locked in at the ankles to some bracelets hanging from the apparatus. The system was then adjusted in a variety of ways so that my body could be almost horizontal, to almost sitting up, to having the feet and shoulders considerably higher than the posterior. In all positions, the body swung gently, and the feeling of exposure and vulnerability intense.

Before releasing me, she gently removed the strap that supported my back. The intensity was magnified, and the strain on my shoulders, knees and ankles compounded. Upon release, I was turned around, and tethered to the device again, with the straps now supporting the front of my body. The process was repeated except that the central strap was never removed.

During this whole process Diana had moved around the runway, gasping and marvelling at how exposed and vulnerable I looked, hanging nude and helpless in mid air.

Martha then gave Diana a similar demonstration of the apparatus, while I watched in awe. Martha then advised us that she had invited some people over for a show, at which we were to be the star attractions demonstrating the versatility of the apparatus that she had labelled "Martha's Magical Mystery Tour". She guaranteed full anonymity for both the entertainers, and the spectators. We both enthusiastically accepted the invitation.

Firstly we must undergo some preliminary training sessions. Martha asked Diana to leave the room, and enjoy the other pleasures of the house and gardens. I was then re-attached to her equipment, before she wheeled out, from behind the curtain, a trolley containing an ample assortment of whips, ticklers, penis and testicle toys, dildos, oils and other articles of dubious utility. She went through much of the range, asking me for my comments, and discarding those items that I found too painful, or not stimulating. Some paddles were too rigid, and the flesh of my bottom was insufficient to protect the bones beneath. Sharp clips that were designed to break some flesh around the nipples, testicles or penis were not even demonstrated. A set of clips designed to hold a woman's hair into a bun, were nearly discarded. Each was about 2 to 3 inches long, metallic with sharpish teeth, and slightly curved. If applied gently, they pinched but did not penetrate. I could accommodate two along the top of my penis, two along the bottom. We did not even try attaching them elsewhere.

I could tolerate light flogging of the penis with soft, short, rubber or silk multi-strand whips, but not on the testicles. This was noted. Before trying a dildo-type device, Martha asked if I was a bum hole virgin. Given that I was, was I reluctant to "give it a go?" As I was now up for almost anything, I accepted the challenge. Martha preferred to keep my dildo debut for the wider audience.

After a light lunch, Diana went through her training, without my presence. I did not know until later that she did not undergo the full variety of experiences allocated to me. She was suspended upwards and downwards from the apparatus, and "pleasured" with ticklers and toys, but her training for the whips and clips was in application, rather than reception. Martha volunteered herself to receive Diana's practice strokes.

We then rested for the remainder of the afternoon, before taking a light dinner. We took great care in removing any stubble from our respective pubic areas, even though we both liked to maintain baldness there as a matter of course. We showered, and waited expectantly in our room for our curtain call.

When Martha came to collect us, she attached a mask to each of us, covering hair, forehead, nose, ears and chin. She was in a black leather outfit, without a mask. The door to the auditorium opened, casting a little light, until complete darkness again filled the room as the door shut behind us. There was enough time to notice a number of heads seemingly covered as we were, seated around the runway, and wearing what appeared to be dark capes. Martha directed a pencil torch to the floor, as she escorted us to the steps and onto the runway. A piano played works by Debussy. A very bright light then focussed on the apparatus, with the three of us standing beside it, Diana and I naked but for the mask. A gentle applause greeted us as we struggled to adjust to the light.

As Diana proceeded to attach me, Martha introduced us, using only our first names, and gave a short summary of what would be on show, and what rules of behaviour were to be honoured. The show then began, as I could make out just the silhouettes of the first row of spectators. However my main focus was on Diana, and Martha as she stepped back behind me out of view. Diana began a little clumsily and nervously, attaching an adjustable ring to my cock, and hanging from it, perhaps an inch below, a small transparent bucket, not much bigger than a thimble. It became apparent that this was to collect the pre-cum that had already begun to flow from me. I had expected Martha to be the administrator, but having Diana in this role surprised and excited me. She spoke to me, asking how I liked what she was doing, did I want her to stop, continue or increase the pressure. Soon I knew she was breathing heavily, and the odour from her pussy must have been obvious to all.

Although there was a series of activities, I was soon in such ecstasy that the whole procedure almost seemed to merge into a single eventt. I did notice that after the application of each toy, a member of the audience was invited on stage for a repeat. Occasionally Martha stepped forward to replace Diana. Sometimes I heard myself moan or even yelp. I know I squirmed and wriggled a lot, but these feelings were almost as if I was an observer, rather than the actor. As euphoria overcame me, I fell more and more into the state of not discerning anything other than pleasure, not so much intense, as it was blissful, even peaceful.

I seemed to sense the ring being released from my cock, and the bucket detached. Later I learned that its contents were used by Diana to lubricate my bottom hole, as I vaguely heard Martha announce my maiden anal penetration. One device replaced another in that virginal hole, as my cock was gently stroked. I was now more aware, and remember that the pleasure came from extracting the devices, not their insertion. I also recall that I was now positioned with my bum in the air, and my head much lower, as I watched my cock receive its so-called punishment. I was unaware of who was doing what. I could hear the whirring as a dildo vibrated inside me, and I could feel it, but I cannot say it pleasured me.

At some stage I must have had the centre strap removed, but this did not enter my consciousness. Nor barely did releasing me and turning me around. The finale however is etched forever in my memory. I was held parallel to the floor, face down, with strokes raining down on my bottom. Diana had positioned herself under me, lying on her back facing me, stroking and pulling down on my penis, as the whipping intensified. I felt the harness jerking and swaying as I exploded, and Diana directed the squirts over her body, from face to pussy.

Then the lights went out, and the music stopped. The applause lasted for minutes. The lights returned, but dimmed. I was released by Martha, and with Diana stood to another round of applause. Intermission was announced, and the masked, caped audience filed out of the room. There was a bathroom attached to the auditorium. I was covered in sweat, Diana in my semen. We showered, and Diana applied some balm to my stinging posterior, and to my flaccid cock which had become quite sore.

Martha came for me first. She led me to the bench at the tip of the runway, telling me how well our show had been received. I was gushing thanks for allowing me the experience. She promised I had much more enjoyment to come, as she spread and tied my feet, and shackled my wrists to my side, and adjusted the back until I was half sitting. The lights dimmed, the piano started up again from behind the curtain, and I was staring straight at and up to the apparatus, only about two metres from my eyes. Martha left, and complete darkness fell.

A few moments later, the door opened as a spotlight focussed directly around the area of my cock. The audience returned, and took their seats. Another spot fell on the apparatus, as Martha entered, leading a nude but masked Diana by the hand onto the runway. Applause exploded, and continued as Martha positioned Diana on the equipment, such that I looked straight up into her widely spread legs. Her pussy was already inflamed, glistening, and exuding her trademark odour of arousal. Martha announced the program and rules.

If I had experienced euphoria before, now began an entirely different kind of ecstasy. Martha and selected audience caressed Diana's entire body. Care was taken not to get in the way of my view. She was kissed, licked, fondled and feathered from toes to neck. She writhed with pleasure, moaned in ecstasy, and screamed in orgasm. She was turned over. The caressing resumed. Martha asked her if she wanted cock.



"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

One person was invited on stage, lifted his cape, and started rubbing his cock across a stiffening nipple. Another invitee placed his cock in one of her hands. Another placed his erection in front of her mouth.

"Do you want it?"


"Beg for it!"

"I want it in my mouth! Give it to me! Please!!"

Martha rocked the harness forward, as Diana eagerly took the cock into her mouth, and its owner pulled her head back and forth on it.

She was rolled back over, and her hands released. The other hand was now occupied. A different cock filled her mouth. Her hands darted backwards and forwards from the cocks by her side, to the one in her mouth, as other cocks caressed her legs and stomach. All the while Martha stood to one side, working a long feather up and down her pussy. The feather gave way to a rubber dildo covered in rubber pimples, which roamed up and down, side to side, in and out of the greedy opening, helped once or twice by a hand released momentarily from other duties.

The first cock erupted, distributing its load across her tits. Then another. And another.

"Do you want one in your cunt?"

"Now! Now! Please! Fuck me! FUCK ME!"

Martha placed the dildo into an appreciative hand, descended the steps, released me and led me by my straining, dribbling penis to the runway. She took the dildo from its intervening operator in one hand, moving my penis closer with the other.

Martha teased Diana several times, threatening to withhold my cock unless Diana pleaded for it. A replacement cock was now gagging her mouth, making her exhortations difficult to decipher. She let go the cocks in each hand, and took the one from her mouth for long enough to scream "Please fuck me. Please. PLEASE."

I entered. My hands grabbed her hips as much to support me as to steady her writhing. I pulled myself into her, thrusting as deeply as I could, and pulling her hips to me. More semen exploded onto her from the side, as I swayed with the harness, thrusting and pulling with all my strength, until Diana roared with ecstasy, and I felt her body twisting and bucking beneath me. I roared, felt the surges of semen filling her, felt my knees buckle, and I collapsed on top of her.

The lights went out. Silence was soon followed by cheering. Bodies brushed past me in the dark. Then silence again. As the spotlight focussed back on us, still laying there together and alone on the stage, exhausted and thoroughly spent, the applause returned. Martha thanked everyone for coming (pun intended), and particularly thanked her star performers. The audience disbanded, leaving the three of us to recover, reminisce, have supper and call it a night.

The next day we relaxed, and Martha told us more about her little coterie and their various escapades and fetishes. It seems that Martha was more to the community than the patron of the Musical Society. She knew all our audience well, as they knew each other well. The masks had protected our identities from them, and theirs from us, until and if some mutual trust and ongoing connection was established.




One day Diana informed me that she had invited some of her friends over for lunch and drinks, and they would be there the coming Saturday. I thought it would allow me to have a game of golf, but Diana impressed on me that I was a vital guest and that I would much prefer what she had in mind to golf.

The objective of the afternoon was to scientifically investigate my sexuality, as my little eccentricities intrigued her friends. The girls were each given free reign to satisfy their respective curiosities, but I was to remain blindfolded so as not to make them embarrassed about any experiment each one wanted to conduct.

To start proceedings, the various physical characteristics of my penis were studied. Length, circumference, flexibility, and the angle of deviation from straight ahead, the angle from the horizontal when erect, description and location of any distinguishing features (veins, spots, and coloration) were all recorded. It was photographed close-up from various angles, and the outline traced on paper from above, below and from each side. This was all carried out diligently, boisterously and with much banter with me and each other. The blindfold was useless, as I knew each student from their voice.

What soon became apparent was that my cock was being addressed as if was an entity separate from me – like a pet, or a little child. And I was being kept informed of their observations relating to my little friend.

My reactions to various types of slapping, whipping and caning were explored. The amount of induced pre-cum was estimated relatively to assess physical satisfaction, as well as my own comments recorded. I was still quite inexperienced in this pain/pleasure relationship. Even though Diana, and some others, had slapped my penis at Martha's place, the totality of the experience had masked my sense of enjoyment of this specific activity. I found that it delighted me even more than when these actions were delivered to my bottom. But it was the reaction of the girls which delighted me more. They were having fun, and were exuberant, as contrasted with the silent voyeurism at Martha's. They shouted with delight when I reported pleasure, louder if it was intense. The best was when the slapping (or other) was quickly followed by a relieving wet mouth.

By contrast, other punishment to my penis or testicles was painful but not pleasurable. This included the application of clothes pegs, elastic bands, hair clips and other clip-on gadgets. I found the application of a vacuum cleaner tube exhilarating, and Diana made a note to buy a proper penis vacuum pump for future use.

Bondage by itself was of little value, but when teamed with slapping, etc. tended to increase the pleasure due to the heightened sense of vulnerability. It had become quite clear that I was turned on by female domination and the associated feeling of helplessness. But the domination needed to be administered with fun, respect and understanding.

On another occasion, Joan asked if she could borrow me for a ladies night she was planning. With Diana in her mid twenties, me in my mid thirties, Joan was in her early fifties, widowed and had been Diana's landlady. She had married young to an older man, an architect, who was a friend of her parents, and who was a strict Presbyterian. He had contracted cancer early in their marriage, and she had nursed him through more than 10 years of remissions, and further bouts of progressive cancer. She had been widowed for over 10 years, had been left considerable money by her husband and her parents, and owned the block of apartments where she had met Diana. She lived on site in the upstairs apartment. She exercised a somewhat motherly association with Diana, who loved the attention. Diana had been surprised by Joan's acceptance of my foibles, and her response to my birthday party.

Essentially Joan had invited four similarly aged friends, who were either widowed or divorced, to her place for dinner. She wanted me to give them a fun evening by waiting on them naked, and teasing them as I did so. More or less a repeat of my birthday party. Whereas Diana's friends tended to be in their twenties, this group could have been their mothers' ages.

I had a great time, and I'm sure Joan and her friends enjoyed something quite foreign to their previous experience. They were apprehensive to begin with, but with a little alcohol, and some egging-on and teasing from me, inhibitions were overcome, and we all laughed and had fun. I seemed to respond to their age, and the gratitude they gave, both by word and by their faces. They obviously had never been so uninhibited before. Each one even gulped the cream and cherry from my penis, accompanied by shouted encouragement from the others. One lady even admitted never having given head to her poor husband, despite his requests. She hoped he wasn't up there watching!

The last experience from the age of Diana I want to mention was my attendance with Diana at the Bachelors and Spinsters Fantasy Ball (or a name like that). Alice had suggested our going, as she had the connections, and was going herself. It was to be fancy dress, and, having been before, she knew that the more outrageous the costume, the better. Would we go as Adam and Eve? Diana did not like the idea of us both being nude, so we tossed. I lost (or won?) What would be our theme? After some heated discussion we settled on Diana to dress as Madame Lash (an infamous local identity), and I would be her slave.

So Diana hired a suitable Madame's outfit, with boots, chains, gloves, stockings, suspenders and military hat, and attached a small collection of whips. I was naked, except for the mask, two cock rings and choker to which she attached the lead. We were quite sure we would be turned away at the door, so I had some leather fetish regalia in reserve. However the two people at the door almost broke up as Diana led me towards them. The other people queuing to get in were also very impressed. We were in!!

In all other respects this was a normal ball. Tables, orchestra, dancing, drinks, supper – the lot. Very soon women were coming to our table asking Diana if they could have me for the next dance, and then leading me out on to the dance floor. Guys were begging Diana to dance with them, and administer a light whipping en route to the floor. The official photographer seemed to want to take shots of us with every other couple. One brazen hussy even vetoed the idea of leading taking me onto the floor with Diana's lead. She just grabbed hold of my cock instead. On the floor, instead of spinning me around by hand on hand, she improvised hand on cock. When the dance finished, she led me back to our table by the cock, amid thunderous applause.

The experience with Martha had been extremely erotic and memorable. However Diana and I took the view that fun get-togethers with friends helping us to enjoy our exhibitionism were more enjoyable, and certainly easier to arrange. Diana preferred to dominate rather than be dominated. I preferred to be dominated, and did not like to dominate. I enjoyed specific pain/pleasure situations, but not pain in and of itself. Diana could dish it out, but not take it. We both obsessed about being nude with others who remained dressed, even though we still enjoyed nudity with others.

Having explored these possibilities with each other, and having reached these understandings, it was also becoming clear that there was little else keeping us together. We certainly were not in love. The only thing keeping us together was a mutual desire to help each other exploit our deviances, and to explore others. We each had a great time doing this.

***THE END?***



xxx story said...

A CFNM Saga , an catchy title and post too. Awesome post. loved it