The Chris Bellows' Collection

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Willie

This is out of control. I am fully exposed to this demanding woman who uses a stick to correct my behavior!

But then I realize the exposure is relative. The mask covers my face. The body paint and latex cover just about all else. I guess it is only my erect prick that has been left to examining female eyes.

As suspected, following the leash is disconcertingly easy. I advance elbows and knees and even on the linoleum the little rubber dog paws seem to provide adequate traction. Meanwhile, I look and align the eyeholes in the mask to view Lenore’s backside. She wears a thong leaving exposed to my gaze both large, powerful but most effeminate buttocks!

This is a ‘girl’s party’, Lenore suggested at our initial meeting. What types of girls wear such suggestive attire in the company of only women?

“Very good, Willie. You’ve learned the role so quickly.”

Her tone and cooing voice suggest she is addressing a puppy, she herself so facilely fulfilling the role of ‘Master’.

She leads me about the kitchen, out to the living room and back. I hear the high pitched clamor of a gaggle of young women on the other side of the back door. My throat goes dry. I tremble. I knew I would be naked and painted. But with this erection out of control and my scrotum painted such a lurid pink, I did not think such attention would be drawn to anatomy, which men are less than eager to flaunt in public.

Back to the living room, Lenore stands in the middle of the room and uses the leash in her left hand to walk me in circles. In her right is her stick. I am shocked to feel the flat end nip my testicles when she reaches down and nestles it between my bound thighs and calves.

“Remember to keep those rear paws widely separated. The girls will want to know our little puppy is a male.”

I enter a funk realizing how well exposed my hanging sac is between my painted buttocks. If my balls dangle to provide such ready access to the stick, the view must be most licentious.

I hear a voice call out, ‘All here, Lenore’.

“It’s show time,” my smiling Master announces.

And with that she stoops and reaches under my belly to give my erect p***s the most tender of teasing strokes. Her brief touch shocks us both; her surprise expressed by a devilish cackle; mine by an outbreak of goose bumps in realization that I will undertake my role with p***s standing at full attention. Yet I do not find the courage to resist.

Is my anserine flesh the result of fear or some strange anticipation and innate desire for exhibitionism?

I’m going to be the center of attraction.