381 Raffle

x The Raffle Winner
Part 1 of 2

Tony Zema was not anyone special when he arrived at the party as a friend of a friend. The hosts were Jared and Troy. This popular gay couple was known for unusual party themes; they never have a party without coming up with a clever one or some unusual entertainment. At the last party, I attended there a few months earlier, the theme was art, body art. The invite required each of us to bring a G-string or thong-type “swimsuit.” Midway into the party, “OK, all you guys, it’s time for the finger painting contest. Everyone change into those skimpy thongs you brought.”

Jared passed out a set of basic paint colors, and we all had to - got to! - do a full-body painting on someone we were matched with based on a random drawing. The one who produced the most artistic creation won a prize. It was a blast. Most of the guys had boners since their covered dicks and balls were tickled and teased in the process. And the bare chest of the men and women were colorfully decorated. The event was very erotic, as you might imagine, but not outright sexual. That‘s the thing about these parties. Always interesting but not blatant or crude.

Now, for this party, the one to which Tony was a “tag along” of invited guest Davidson. All invites to his affair read, “This is an Old Clothes Party. Please wear your oldest (but clean) clothes for our fundraiser for the Women’s Shelter.” It did sound like fun. Everyone arrived in their worst, holiest, lounge-around-the-house clothes instead of their best casual.

The music was party-ish, the snack foods were as expected, the drinks were pleasantly on the strong side, and the raggedly dressed guests were milling around and engaging in the usual chitchat with new and old friends. About 30 people were there. 90 minutes into the party, one of the hosts, Troy, spoke up and thanked everyone for coming. Then he said, “As part of our fundraiser, we will do a special raffle. So, if each of you would kindly write your name on one of these little papers Jared is passing out, then fold it up, and place it in this hat, we will get started.” What, no other explanation? I guess none was needed because no one asked any questions. Each just took a square of paper and did as asked, all happy to go along with their creative hosts.

Within a few minutes, the host had Ms. Emma, a close friend, reach into the hat, mix up the papers, and pull out a name. “Tony Zema,” called out Troy. The newcomer, Tony, an Italian, about 30, sporting a large tattoo, shyly stepped forward.

Tony was wearing old canvas tennis shoes with a worn hole in one at the side where his little toe was trying to escape, and you could see his sock showing through. His jeans, which had holes, were held up by a frayed woven belt. On top, he wore an old, badly torn green sleeveless shirt, with an outer shit fully opened in front. When he put this outfit together, he wondered if he was overdoing the ragged look.

“Tony, It is so good to meet you. I hope you will become one of our regulars.” The group applauded, welcoming him. “OK, Tony, you are the winner. Congratulations!” Everyone cheered without really understanding what he had won. “You are the one person here tonight who will not be donating anything toward the fundraiser.” Then, scanning the crowd of smiling faces, he added, “However, all of YOU folks will be donating the big bucks! And, of course, we accept IOUs, so you can pay later,” Jared teased as he announced to their guests with a full belly laugh, and the guests joined in.

Anticipating the next step in their plan, Troy brought over a rather large wooden black chair, setting it on a low, one-foot-high beige coffee table near one wall, creating a makeshift stage.” Smiling at Tony, Jared continued, “You just get to watch what the others are required to do, and we don’t want you to participate in any way because you are the winner. To ensure your non-participation, you’ll sit here in this chair; we’ll call it your throne.” Everyone laughed with a look of curiosity, wondering how this would unfold and feeling lucky for Tony, the only one with no role or responsibility in any of this. “You get to sit back, relax, and watch the rest of us make fools of ourselves. Aren’t you the lucky winner!” Lots of cheers.

“And, to ensure you’re only watching and not involving yourself, we will gently but securely to the chair, just in fun. This way, you can concentrate on just observing all the others,” said Jared. Troy held up a short, 2-foot-long piece of white cotton rope. Tony felt a little embarrassed, but it was just a little rope, so why not, he thought. Besides, he couldn’t say no in front of all these good-natured guests or to his kind hosts, whom he had just met at this charity fundraiser. So, instead of just meekly saying, “OK,” Tony went with the flow, “Have at it. It’s all for charity! I’m yours” He spoke up pleasantly and then plopped himself into the “throne.” His two double cocktails may have had something to do with that.

Jared asked for Tony’s keys and wallet, which he placed in an end table drawer to keep them safe. Then Troy took the short rope and tied Tony’s wrists to the outside of the back rails of the chair. His hands were secured together and to the spindles of the chair back. To Tony’s surprise, Troy then reached behind him and pulled out a much longer coiled rope made of the same soft, white cotton. Quickly, he tied each ankle to each front chair leg, tying the right ankle to the right chair leg and the left ankle to the other chair leg. “You OK with this? I can untie you if you wish,” Troy offered. But Tony was not going to disappoint. He did not feel threatened or unsafe in any way. It was all in fun, and that’d exactly as he took it. He whispered that he was fine, and his obviously relaxed body confirmed it.

Troy continued with no need to further “check-in.” He tied Tony’s legs, just below his knees, to the sides of the chair, pulling and holding those knees comfortably but widely apart. Then he made several loops of rope around Tony’s belly and then added more loops around his upper chest to secure the full length of his torso firmly to the back of the chair.

Many of the other guests were oohing and ahhing as they watched with increasing curiosity. Jared spoke up again, “OK, guys, on the table are a pair of scissors and a basket. Each of you, and I do mean everyone, one at a time, as the evening goes along, place a $20 bill or IOU in the basket and take the scissors and make a single snip into an article of Tony’s clothes.” Everyone hooted and laughed. “We’ll do this in this order: his shoes, socks, belt, outer shirt, and then his pants. It might take some manly, strong hands to snip at the canvas shoes and belt, so ladies, you might focus your snip on his outer shirt and jeans. Remember, only one snip at a time, and not more than one inch long. There is no rush.”

Upon hearing the instructions, Tony’s face turned beet red with embarrassment, but he nodded hesitatingly to Jared to continue. “Who’s first?” Before anyone responded, another surprise. For the final touch, Troy tied a blindfold snugly over Tony’s eyes. Most guests immediately crowded closer and were eager to take their turn. Little pieces of Tony’s outer clothing began falling onto the floor around him as each guest made their $20 snips.

Jared made sure that the snipping was done gradually, little by little. An hour later, Tony was finally down to his socks, briefs, and tank top. The donation basket was full. Tony was proud of the fact that he had endured this weird challenge and that he helped to raise money for a good cause. He thought being seen in my underwear was no big deal.

Still tied and blindfolded, Tony waited impatiently to be set free. He wondered what he would wear to continue mingling with the other guests. Were his hosts going to provide him with a robe? Was someone going to lend him clothes so he could get home? The important thing, he thought, was that he showed everyone he could be a good sport. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a voice offering him a cocktail. After the daring experience he had just been through, he quickly responded, “Oh yes!” and eagerly gulped it down as the guest held the glass to his face, placing the straw to his lips.

“OK,” Jared shouted out. “Now we will continue, and everyone will get to do more snips, but this time it will cost you a $50 donation. We will be snipping at Tony’s remaining underwear, namely his T-shirt, socks, and briefs.” In case it escaped your attention, these were wealthier guests. That’s why they were the ones invited to this particular fundraiser. People chuckled as some got their wallets out while others were asked to write an IOU note. Tony could not believe what he just heard, but what could he do? Tell them, “I quit? Untie me now, please. I need to go home.” Tony had more class than that. Or … was his new-found courage a result of the cocktails he had, which were stronger than he was accustomed to? He felt sure the hosts were teasing everyone about cutting his briefs. What worried Tony was that he felt his dick starting to swell in his Jockeys, not a lot, but it was getting comfortably filled out as his dick grew under the fabric, pulsing toward his left hip. He hoped the alcoholic drinks he accepted during the party would eventually dull his senses and relax his growing boner to a sleepy state.

Jared, wanting to draw this event out as long as possible to raise more money, replaced the regular scissors with a red-handled pair he purposely filed dull earlier so they would not cut very well. He wanted his guests to struggle a bit to make the tiny cuts as they maneuvered the scissors around all the ropes. “OK,” instructed Jared loudly, “You’ve heard of the ‘pecking order,’ well ... here is the ‘snipping order. First his socks, then his green T-shirt, which will be cut from the bottom upwards, then his briefs.” There was a group cheer as they all felt excited in a silly way. “Also, these other scissors are not very sharp, so be patient and take your time when it is your turn.” The group giggled, and one guy yelled out, “It’ll be much easier just to pull his socks off, wouldn’t it?” Again the guests laughed, and Jared joked, “Of course, but do you think I want to make it that easy?” More laughter.

As round two began, Tony felt several people, in succession, awkwardly using the dulled scissors to cut snippets of his socks off. Soon bare-footed Tony was able to wiggle his toes freely. A few minutes later, Tony could feel someone’s hands pulling at the bottom of his tank top and then making a snip; others followed suit and became more touchy-feely as the “event” progressed. At one point, someone, a woman he thought, was necessarily touching and rubbing his bare thighs as he pretended to snip at his tank top.

Quite a few people were waiting to expose the winner and divest him of his clothes, many paying extra donations to take additional turns. None of them could resist pinching and groping him everywhere as they cut away parts of Tony’s shirt as each took their turn.

In one way or another, they all took advantage of Tony’s inability to resist. Most tried to make their touching seem accidental, while others did not care who saw them fondling Tony’s body. At times, his nipples were grazed with light fingertips, and other times he felt them being aggressively pinched, squeezed and pulled. When various people started lightly tickling here and there, it was Tony’s one-way ticket to a major boner. His dick was making a pointy tent in his Jockeys, as it was trapped in the material, trying to move upward and peak out from the waistband.

And there was an unexpected bonus. As his clothes were cut away, and his skin was left bare, the white cotton rope bondage looked hot against his tan skin. It made his muscle bulge. Such a macho, hunky young man, all tied up and helpless. There to entertain some 30 people. For some weird reason, that idea was erotic to Tony and the others.

One fellow, Jeffery, a college student, stooped over and planted himself between Tony’s tied-open thighs in a way that blocked the view of those behind him. He felt the man carefully reach into his Jockey shorts and free his dick from the constricting material. His boner was now allowed to rise at an angle as it “wanted to,” tightly against Tony’s belly. Next, Jeffery neatly adjusted the waistband level across his belly and Tony’s well-shaped boner straight upward, allowing the top half of Tony’s flesh tower to be magnificently displayed like a totem pole. Then after snipping a bit of the T-shirt – as he was supposed to do- Jeffery snipped a little T-shirt near Tony’s armpit. He called out, “Next,” and moved out of the way.

Now all eyes were not on Tony but on his stiff, jutting-out meat post. Even blindfolded, Tony knew that his dick was obscenely positioned for everyone to view. Still, there was nothing he could do about it. At least, Tony thought, this game was finally over because he believed the host was only kidding about cutting his briefs off. So, since his socks and tank top were in scattered bits on the floor around him, he was thankful that this most embarrassing and humiliating “game” he ever attended was concluded. He was relieved that he’d be untied and covered up soon.

Jared, upon seeing the boner pointing out of Tony’s waistband, made an unplanned announcement. “OK folks, we want to thank Tony for being such a good sport.” The group applauded and cheered Tony. There, that confirmed it to Tony. The game, with all its erotic humiliation, was over. He was glad he felt a warm fuzzy buzz from the booze, which caused him to feel silly and go along. The bound-up man even allowed himself to smile, giggle. Tony felt pride at how well he cooperated and played along. Yes, he felt he was, indeed, a good sport! He sat patiently still, waiting to be untied.

Then, Jared announced, “It looks to me like Tony is raising an important ‘point’ of interest.” More laughter. “So … I’m raising the ante to a $100 donation per snip, and remember, we do accept IOUs and checks!” The entire room broke out into laughter. “ All those who agree, raise your hand up high. Everyone did. “Oh, I see Tony is also raising his… his… appendage high, too. So it’s unanimous.” Everyone was having a blast. With the handsome young man still blindfolded and tied to the chair and his boner on display, there was no shortage of takers to pay the $100 bucks.

Then, George, the boyfriend of Jeffery, went up to Troy and sheepishly whispered, “Em… ah… I don’t have any more money to donate, just a few bucks. But… um… I mean, I’m not entitled to snip away at him, but… could I go up and tickle him? I mean, I could do it quickly without anyone seeing me. I just want to participate.”

Troy considered that with what they collected today, including the IOUs, the event had earned more donation money than he anticipated. The fundraiser was already a huge success. So he thought, why not be charitable and ease up on those who reached their limit?

Without answering George directly, Troy spoke up loudly. He announced, “Those of you who are your limit, and this is the honor system, may pay one dollar instead of the 100 and tease or tickle our raffle winner.” More laughing and gigging.

Bound up, Tony, who thought the game was over, could only scream in his head, “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Not in anger but in a state of embarrassment. And still, he was not going to protest. He could speak up and end everything and be set free. But this was a fundraiser, and he, too, realized He was raising a lot of money for the women’s shelter. He was proud of that. He just wished his dick could be covered.

George, acting rather theatrically, took out his wallet, opened it, took out a one-dollar bill, held it up to show everyone, then placed it in the basket. More applause.

You might wonder what if the raffle winner was a kind, old lady. How could any of this happen? Of course, it could not. No one figured out that Tony's name was not drawn when The host asked his god friend, Ms. Emma, to reach into the hat and pick the winner. Jared wanted a good-looking young man, who he hoped would be a good sport, to be selected.

So, without even reading the drawn paper, Jared announced, “And the winner is Tony Zeno.” So it was a necessary setup designed to raise money by scissor-stripping a well-toned man for this fun of the event. Part of the event planning was to ensure Tony had a few special cocktails, meaning stronger drinks. And there is one other crucial part of planning the particular event. Tony did not show up by accident. He was not one of the wealthy people invited. So why was Tony there at all? Well, of course, the hosts asked one of their gay friends, Davidson, to bring along a buff guest who they figured would fit the bill and cooperate. So Tony was pre-selected.

Lastly, if Tony said to stop at any time, the hosts would find a cute way to end the stripping immediately and release the raffle winner. As with almost every other event, things just happened, usually for the good. So let it happen to hear.

George went to the handsome victim and knelt on the floor between Tony’s tied-wide keens. The atmosphere gradually morphed into a host-controlled wild party. Everyone was loosened up, laughing, applauding at every bit of crazy silliness. After hearing Troy’s tickle announcement and watching George approach “the raffle winner,” many people gathered closely around the bound man. After all, there were only 30 guests, so most could encircle the action couple. The group came to a hush, eager to see what would happen next.

The now, not-so-shy George leaned into Tony’s blindfolded face as if to whisper. Instead, he spoke loudly for all to hear, “Ah, Tony, I paid my dollar because I wanted to tickle your balls.” Lots of chuckles, and then back to a hush. “May I do that? Please? I mean, tickle your balls?”

“Ah… Wha… wha…”

“OK. Thanks, Mr. Zeno, Sir.” George looked at Tony’s underwear which was taught level at the waist and which held his stiff dick exposed, with at least the top half of the mighty shaft so proudly displayed. “But your balls are all covered up by your underwear.” A few more chuckles. “Can I move the briefs down further to get to your balls? I mean, I don’t know any other way to tickle them. And, I did pay my a dollar. I know you didn’t see me place it in the basket, being blindfolded, but… ” George now placed each hand on Tony’s thighs, close to his knees, as he spoke. He slightly scratched those muscle thighs with his fingernails.

Everyone noticed Tony’s dick began to flex and jerk, not freely, because it was tightly held upright by the waistband. “I mean, Mr. Zema, I didn’t pay a hundred bucks to be able to snip part of the cloth away. But I did pay my dollar.” As George continued to chat, kind of explaining and reasoning with himself aloud, he worked his fingernails up to Tony’s mid-thighs and slowly, lightly wiggled them… continuously.

“Oh… ah… I… I… “ Tony had no clue what to say. Should he say, “OK?” Or “No.” Or, “Let me go,” or what? He just continued to mumble and moan.

A few things were happening all at once. The group remained quiet. The music was turned so low you could not hear it. The host wished each other that this was much better than the belly dancer they thought they would hire to perform after the raffle. The Tony and George duo was perfect. They were the center of attention. This was better entertainment than they could have imagined. So, they just let it unfold.

“Mr. Zema? Would you like me to fix it for you?” Tony only moaned and mumbled. George had slowly moved his scratchy-tickling fingernails up to near Tony’s briefs. And since Tony’s thighs were secured and spread wide, those creeping fingers maneuvered to the inside of his thighs, to near the groan.

“OK, if you need my help, I’m here to assist you.” Tony ahhed. “You’re welcome, Sir.” Then it happened. Tony’s dick struggled to bob a few times and pulsed out a blob of precum. Gasps and giggles came freely. The hosts took comfort in knowing, truly, that Tony was getting off on his … his… being handled.

x The Raffle Winner
Part 2 of 2

“OK, as you requested, Mr. Zema, let’s free up your balls.” Since George, who did not pay the 100 bucks, was not allowed to cut the underwear. He simply lifted the waistband away from Ton’s wait, freeing his mighty tool. Then he pushed his hand under the balls Tony had been sitting on and pulled them out fully. This allowed him to fully set the waistband under Tony’s big balls, which pushed them and his throbbing dick outwardly.

“Wow, Mr. Zema, that was a lot of work.” George joked loudly. But now you are all freed up. Isn’t that better, Sir?” Everyone laughed while Tony struggled and tried to stamp his feet on the floor but couldn’t because they were tied up to the back chair legs to hold them off the floor. Interestingly, no one attempted to interrupt George to insist they get their turn at the winner. George was doing fine in every way, and everyone enjoyed the show immensely.

“OOPS. Oh no, some of your juice is leaking out.” George was referring to the blob of precum that oozed out moments ago, “Sir, you’re making a mess. Do you want me to wipe it up for you, Mr. Zema?”

Tony was in a daze. With the booze, the unbelievable humiliation and embarrassment. Being a totally unprepared public spectacle had fogged his mind in disbelief, so he was not even thinking right. BUT… he nodded yes to George’s question.

“Okey-dokey Mr. Zema.” Then George scooped up the glob of precum on his index finger and brought it to Tony’s lips. Tony did nothing, didn’t open his mouth or press his lips firmly closed. George just causally inserted his finger between his closed lips and wiped the goo on his tongue.

All this chatting, erotic maneuvering, hysterically hamming things up, and constant teasing, but his big plumbed-up, now fully displayed balls were not even touched.. yet.

“Now, I’m ready to get my dollars’ worth of testicle teasing. May I begin now, Sir?”

I can’t say Tony just stared blankly because his eyes were covered, but his still body posture and forward-facing head did not move. In other words, no response. No acknowledgment that he was even asked a question.

So, there is Tony Zema. A fine Italian young man with a timed body and beautiful hair. His body was not overly hairy, just enough to look manly and rugged. He is a black wooden chair. His hands are tied behind the back of the chair and to the back chair spindles. His legs are tied wide-spread to the side of the chair, with several loops of the same white cotton rope around his torso. His blindfold is made of supple black leather. He was comfortable but very securely bound to the chair.

And his clothes, the old clothes he was required to bring to the event, were all cut off during the “stripping game,” except for his white Jockey briefs. Now, to describe his full, fierce manhood. It is now jutting up about eight inches. His balls are also out of his briefs and pushed away from his groin by the waistband under them. Walla! A well-prepared display of a stud ready to be used.

Hearing no response, again, “Now, I’m ready to get my dollars’ worth of testicle teasing. May I begin now, Sir?” again, nothing. “I’ll take that as a “yes,” Sir.” George did not grab Tony’s balls or squeeze them. He used his fingers to maneuver the big, full balls downward in their sack, away from his groin. Tony had a big loose sack, so his balls normally swing as they hung low. Then he used one finger to encircle the scrotum skin above the balls and gently pulled on the balls to tighten in their downward in the sack. Amazingly, George could pull the balls over an inch away from Tony’s groin. Now George used two fingers closed tightly around the neck of the sack and pulled on the balls more firmly, making the enclosed ball bulge and the scrotum skin smooth as a baby’s bottom.

Without requesting anything or uttering a word, a two-foot-long piece of white cotton rope appeared in front of George’s face. Jared saw the need to tie the balls in their down position. George needed no other hint. He looped the rope around and around the top of the scrotum sack. He did a wonderfully neat job of creating circle after circle, laying the rope nicely in adjacent rows, forming a rope tube to constrain the balls, and pushing them down a full two inches. He tied it off. Now he no longer needed to keep his fingers holding the ball sack. The rope did it perfectly.

George ignored Tony’s moaning and whimpering as this rope tying was going. He noticed but ignored Tony’s twitching dick. Since that baseball bat-like post was now free to bob, jerk, and twitch like crazy. AND… it was not even touched!

These big, bugged-out, fat, full balls were all his to abuse. So, he worked on these balls his way, the way his partner Jeffery enjoyed. He lightly, very lightly, raked his fingernails over them. He made little circles, lines, and patterns all over the stretched scrotum skin. Tony’s entire body was jerking in his chair, and the chair even moved a little bit. But no one paid attention to that. No one was bothered by that. Tony’s moans, groans, body twisting, and twitching only encouraged George to continue.

All of a sudden, a faint sound, a word, “…please…?”

What the fuck? “…please…?” There it was again. It was Tony mumbling.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Zema, I’ll work continuously on these balls for you. I mean, I paid a whole dollar, and I don’t want to get shorted.” Then George got bolder. Why not? No one was stopping him. The room was filled with elected partiers. So, George leaned over and began to lick those beautiful tied-up balls. His tongue darted out and around what looked like a little inflated, angry double balloon.

“Ahh… please… fuck… oh god… please…”Then it started. His dancing twitching big dick began to ooze milky man juice. Like a volcano, but it did not blast. Tony was not shooting. He was oozing, seeping, leaking, burping, and sputtering on and on.

“Wow there, you’re running like a faucet. May I clean you up again?”

Ahh… fuck… please… god…. “

“OK,” George said and scooped up a lot of juicy precum,m. This time, he had to use the palm of his hand to gather most of it. “OK, Sir, stick out your tongue, Mr.Zema.

The raffle winner’s tongue came out. “Now, open wide.” This time Tony opened his mouth and kept his tongue out. “OK.” And George positioned the upward palm of his hand over Tony’s tongue. He tilted it over, sloppily dripping the thick slime onto that seemingly hungry tongue. “There you go, Sir. Good, boy.” George then wiped his palm on Tony’s receptive tongue, over and over until his hand was clean. “There you go. Now let’s get the rest of it so we can clean you all up for the others here.” Again, he used his hand like a scraper and scoped all around Tony’s dick and balls, and between his thighs, wherever the mess was, and again positioned his palm adjacent to Tony’s face. But this time, he did not encourage Tony to open his mouth. He rubbed his cum-filled palm all over Tony’s face and chest, trying to avoid messing up the leather blindfold. Then George stood up and bowed to his cheering fans. Jared and Troy applauded the loudest. George felt so good doing his little dom-control scene, especially in front of others. It was like a fantasy come true. He planned none of this. As he stepped away, he wiggled his hips, trying to shake down his erection, easily seen through his torn and threadbare jeans. After all, that was the party theme.

“Well, I think I need a cold shower after that,” Jared spoke up with the group after abounding. “OK, now, let’s continue. Many of you kindly paid the 100 bucks for your turn, so let’s not keep you waiting.”

Lynn and Phil, a middle-aged married couple, came up together. “Here you go, Lynn, you go first,” Phil said, handing her the scissors.

“Oh dear, Phil, how do we do this? I mean, his big thing is so … ah… big. I don’t want to cut it.”

“Here. Let me pinch the material on this site and just snip a tiny bit.” Phil pulled the material away from Tony’s right hip, and Lynn snipped it.”

“OH NO, Lynn, you cut all the way through. You were supposed to snip into it a tiny bit so others can have tiny sips.” Then Phil turned to Jared, “What do we do now?”

Not wanting to embarrass these guests, Jared joked, “Well, fuck, just pull that useless rag off of him and jam it in his mouth.” Everyone laughed.

But Lynn, as well as Phil, thought he was serious. Without thinking further, Phil just grabbed the bunched-up material firmly and pulled on it hard and continuously until it slid out from under Tony’s muscular ass, leaving his boned-up dick waving back and forth. Lynn went to take it, but as if following orders, Phil, again, balled it up and pushed it in Tony’s mouth. Not satisfied with the initial placement, he lodged more tightly in by jabbing it with his fingers until Tony’s mouth ultimately accepted it, his lips closed around it, and his cheeks bulged out. The mass of Jockey was so bulky that his tongue couldn’t push it out.

Jared was a bit shocked to see his joke acted on, but again, he did not want to embarrass anyone, so he just went with the flow. “Yea, That’ll teach our winner to keep quiet.” Jared promoted giggles from the group. ”So, who is next? There isn’t more cutting, but the tickling rules are still in place.”

Then Jansen, a big guy who was a professor of ancient art and mysterious cultures, offered, “I recently read an article about a ritual in early Egyptian times about the practice of touching a man’s penis in such a way that the produces precum, more and more precum. Cum and precum were considered the food of the gods, and manipulating a man to produce a continual stream was considered an ultimate offering. Of course, the offering would be minimal if the man soon climaxes. So that flow-stopper was to be avoided. The author was quite detailed in his description of this ritual. Fascinating. He said it was a lost erotic art.” Then he looked up to the ceiling in wonderment and sheepishly said, “If only we had some male subject to experiment on, we might be able to explore this… this… ah… lost art.”

Jared and Troy had just been discussing how to end this successful event. What would be a natural climax for this wonderful evening? “Well,” Troy spoke up, speaking to Jansen, “Since you read the article, and you’re the professor, why don’t you begin this already prepared and very eager subject here,” pointing to Tony, “and see if you can teach us anything about… Egyptian art?”

No one was considering what the good sports raffle winner Tony wanted. He could not speak up. He was securely bound to the chair, blindfolded, and gagged with his own underwear, with his balls tied up, forcing them to distend away from his body. His dick, though not leaking, was a straight-up tower of strength and manliness.

Being a college professor, it was second nature for him to command the group’s attention and conduct this show-and-tell like a class. “OK, folks, gather round, those that want to.” He sat on the floor between Tony’s stretched-out knees, just as George did earlier. “OK, now, let me see. I could use a few props. Do any of you ladies have a stiff-bristled hairbrush?” One lady immediately went to her bag and retrieved hers, handing it to Jansen, “Oh, and I see a butter tray on the table. Could someone bring that to me also?”

Professor Jenson was a fastidious, precise individual. He did things with pinpoint accuracy, never with a broad stroke. He’s the type of person who, if he were an artist, could paint a portrait on the head of a pin.

“Oh, and in the way of proper terminology, Tony here, during Ancient times, would be referred to as the sacrificee, and all of us would be the sacrificers. Yes, class, there will be a quiz,” the Professor joked. “Well, now, let’s begin by placing the bristle.” The bristle head was about an inch and a half wide and a little over four inches long, and the handle added an extra five inches to its length. Oh, I almost forgot, our subject needs t to be abler to appreciate our use of his penis.”

The Professor removed the blindfold but not the gag. Tony, who was blinded for nearly two hours, blinked his eyes and shook his head to make his vision clearer.

“That’s better. Now, to properly place this implement.” The Professor gently pushed the handle under Toy’s ass. To be more precise, he lifted Tony’s bound balls and the handle end between the young man’s cheek, along the crack, making sure the end of the bristles was sticking out about three inches and the bristles were pointing up. He made sure it was wedged under Tony snugly. Since Tony was tied down firmly to the chair, he could not stand even a little to try to wiggle his ass to attempt to dislodge the brush. It was there to stay. After a careful examination that the brush was properly placed, the Professor gently positioned Tony’s ball on the pointy, stingy tips of the stiff bristles. Due to the way the scrotum skin was stretched over the balls because they were pushed fully down by the rope, the smooth balls were super sensitive to the erotic tickling sensation of the “sharp” bristles.

As soon as the Professor let go, Tony bucked in his seat. The chair moved very little, which was fine, but Tony was doing whatever he could to try to keep his balls off the stinging bristle. His jerking only made his balls bump and bounce… literally “dance” on the pointy bristles.

“Aaaahhhh…” followed by mumbled sounds that were probably, “FUCK,” “SHIT,” “OH GOD,” “OWE.” He was creating his own erotic torture.

“You see here? Our sacrificee can’t help brushing and bouncing his tight balls all over the top of the bristles. Isn’t that amazing?” The attention of many of the guests was glued to what the Professor was demonstrating.

“So, he may even figure out that if he stays still, his balls will not be assaulted.” As soon as Tony heard that, he calmed down and stopped wiggling.

“See, he relaxed. So, let’s have a couple of you folks cove over and stand behind Tony.“ Brittany, a teenage girl, and Hedda, an older woman, did so. “Now, each of you reaches over his shoulders and pinch one of our raffle winner’s nipples.” Hedda pinched his nipple hard, while Brittany was girlish and silly and barely squeezed it. Even so, Tony shook his body the little he could and tried to jump out of his seat, making a muffled growling sound.

“No, I mean, use your fingernails like pliers and pinch those nipples with full strength,” the Professor ordered. Tony screamed into his gag like a wounded animal.

“Now, don’t stop. OK, all of you see Tony’s dick? See how it is dancing, bobbing, jerking around? Isn’t that great? And look, we are beginning to get some wonderful food of the gods seeping out of his dancing dick. AND! We have not even started working on his boner yet.”

“But it’s leaking out and making a mess. Shouldn’t we be collecting it, saving it?” Chan asked. Chan was the hosts’ gardener and was always invited to these events. He had not only become a good friend of Jared and Troy but would be a third in a three-way, on occasion.

“Actually, you are correct. But the first hour of cum is often discarded because it is bitter. After a long while of torturing the sacrificee … I mean… this erotic ritual, the cum tastes sweeter. The Ancients knew this, so it was important to have this food-producing ritual go on, well…back then, for three days. Also, during that three-day ritual, the sacrificee would not be fed or even given water to drink. Lack of food or drink makes the cum sweet and thick and, oh my, so yummy. However, if the sacrifice needed liquid, pee from the head sacrificer would be given.”

Troy interjected, “So far, you haven’t touched his stiffy. Why?”

“Because he is in a constant seeping cum flow. Listen, hear his moan? Look at the way his body trembles. It’s like he is on vibrate. It has not stopped. His dick is bobbing, jerking, pumping out the juice of the gods. And, ah… Chan, let’s put you to work. Use a spoon to scrape up, scoop up his precum and deposit it in a glass.” We can raffle that off later tonight,” Everyone laughed.

Chan got busy scooping and depositing.

“OK, ladies and gentlemen, Now that I have his cock-engine purring on as fast idle, I let you folk, those that pay up…” more laughter, “do as you wish. Though try different tactics to see which produces more food of the Gods.”

Jared kept an eye on how Tony was dealing with this entire event and being used to produce food of the God’s. About half a dozen others paid their donation and tickled-teased the hero. Then the two strong men picked up the chair Tony was tied to and carried it off to the bedroom, a dark place where he sat alone and rested, or better put, recovered. An hour later, everyone cleared the place. Needless to say, the fundraiser was a FUN-RAISER – and a FABULOUS SUCCESS. Troy untied the naked winner.

Davidson, still dressed in his white dress shirt and black tie, who brought Tony, took charge of his still-naked buddy. He untied him and helped him stand. Tony was quite woozy and staggering. The hosts, being good hosts and classy guys, had clothes for Tony to wear to go home, but Davidson waved them away, “He’ll be fine with me. I’ll drive him to my place, just as he is. Davidson guided his buddy to his car, buckled him in, and off they went. Davidson had made a deal with the hosts that whatever would happen this evening, and no one knew for sure, Tony would not be allowed to climax under any circumstances. You see, while Tony liked Davidson as a good friend, Davidson always fostered an erotic flame for his long-time buddy. Now, this long-time pal was all “sexed up” and “nowhere to go,” so to speak. As we all saw, Troy and Jared kept that promise. Now, Davidson was taking his good buddy his place for a super-charge erotic explosion.

The End

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