“Take off your pants.”
That one simple phrase She uttered scared me. Her voice always felt commanding, yet She never spoke her orders with the least bit of anger. They were simple utterances meant to direct my action, her intentions always painfully clear. My job was not to interpret them or to give the least thought. I was to only follow her words and nothing more.
I stepped out of my shoes and undid my belt and the front of my gray trousers. I slid them down slowly, unable to ignore the women around us. We were at a small cocktail party, six or seven of them total. Some were dominants, some were not. My hands trembled a bit, as I heard one woman’s voice exclaim, “Oh, my.”
My cock began hardening immediately, knowing I was being watched, put on display by her, my Mistress. I had signed on for this, my agreement to serve Her well established. I stepped out of my pants and stood facing her. My stiff cock poked out through the bottom of my white button down shirt.
“Come closer.” She smiled approvingly.
I folded my pants and set them on my shoes and walked nervously towards her. Her smile widened a bit as my hard cock bobbed with each step. A few of the other women chuckled.
Her eyes met mine, and I felt the safety in her presence that only a submissive knows. Nothing bad would happen to me, at least nothing bad that I didn’t want. I didn’t fear being naked here, not with her and not with her eyes on me.
“Take off your shirt, and hand it to me.”
I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, slipped it off and presented it to her. She smiled again, laying my shirt across the arm of the couch beside her.
“Everyone is looking at you,” She said, giving me a look of mock disapproval. “You’re the only naked person here.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said. She knew the insecurity I felt over my body, over every aspect of stupid me. My cock was maybe average in size, and my body carried more weight than it should have. I always sought to avoid attention, but now there was no escape. She had told me I was beautiful the first time She saw me naked. Her words had fell strangely around me, as if She had spoken in some foreign dialect that sounded familiar but her words held some other meaning. Beauty was not a word to describe me.
I swallowed hard. I knew the other women could see me already, yet the mask of being in her view, of holding my eyes on her would fade the instant I looked away. I forced myself to take a deep breath and slowly turned to face the other women who were seated all around me.
Their faces did not show the least disappointment as they took me in. Some smiled coyly, and one woman, an older blonde, looked behind me to my Mistress. “Very nice,” she told Her. I felt my Mistress’s hand on my lower back. Her fingers ran along my skin gently, offering reassurance.
“Now,” She spoke, her voice more playful than before. “Go stand by the fireplace.” Her fingers now pushed me gently away. I took a few hesitant steps, glancing around at the faces following me. I walked to my mark slowly, horribly aware of my hardness as my cock bounced again as I moved and the sight elicited a few laughs.
“He’s very nervous,” my Mistress scolded the other women. “Be kind.”
I smiled at her, my heart beating faster. I looked from one woman to the next, their eyes still glued on my body, staring at my face and my cock. I fought back the temptation to clutch my hands in front of me, to cover myself. I clasped them tightly behind me instead.
“You seem to like this, don’t you?” my Mistress asked.
I nodded. “Yes, Mistress,” I said, a slight tremor in my voice. Her eyes played upon mine, and her smile returned. I stood there, motionless, the complete and unavoidable center of attention for a seeming eternity. She pursed her lips and tapped a finger the arm of the sofa where her hand rested. Her head tilted down, a gesture I had come to realize meant something was coming next.
“Masturbate for us.”
“I … but …” My voice shook more as a crush of pending humiliation hit me. My words almost drowned out by a few laughs that came from around the room.
“Don’t you mean, ‘Yes, Mistress’?”
I dropped my head and nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”
I let my hands fall by my side. I forced another deep breath into my lungs and then slipped the fingers of my right hand around my cock. I cringed as I began stroking myself, knowing the depth of my willingness to submit to Her. I had no choice to resist her demands, no matter how awful.
I raised my head for a moment, as I jerked off. The women still were watching me, but more they seemed to be enjoying what they saw. Somehow taking pleasure in the sight of me doing this. A tasted it now, just a glimmer, that confidence She said I lacked.
I began pulling at my cock with greater passion, as that feeling swelled inside me. Each stroke bringing me closer to completion, but also building something more. A surge of pride and self-assurance grew, as I allowed mind to lose itself in the moment.
The greater my enthusiasm, the greater the response from my audience, these beautiful women watching beautiful me. I brought my face up, looking them each the in the eye as my hand slid over my pulsing shaft.
“Let us hear you,” my Mistress ordered.
I nodded. I offered up a soft grown at first, my breathing quickening. I gasped louder and watched as the eyes of the women lit up more. Their excitement fed mine. My hand worked faster, and my moans and gasps became louder. My legs stiffened, and I arched my feet against the floor. My chest drew out. I jerked my head back, my eyes closed and my neck wrought with tension.
My entire body tingled, as I fought for one last breath. I growled out loudly as I came. My cum bursting out of me in a flood of pure release. I gasped once more as I worked the last few drops free with my hand. The agony of the task lifted, and my muscles unwound as my shoulders fell limp. My head dropped, and I rested my chin against my chest.
I took a deep breath, and then I heard it. Applause.
I raised my face back up to look at them. They were all smiling, approving, accepting. My Mistress’s eyes met mine. Her face glowing with what I would have sworn was just a hint of a blush. I no longer felt naked there, though I certainly was. Whatever shame of myself I had known had washed away with my orgasm, expelled in an instant with my growl.
I smiled at my Mistress. She nodded and smiled back before speaking finally speaking the words I longed to hear. “Good boy,” she said. “Good boy.”
Ariana Paige is a lifestyle dominant and an author of erotic fiction. She has published four erotic books, which are available on Amazon (FREE for Kindle Unlimited), including the Five Star rated The Houseboy, The Houseboy – Part 2 and Two in the Hand. You can view her Amazon.com author page or find her on Goodreads, Twitter, Facebook and FetLife.