Humiliation, Then A Helping Hand

August the 31st 2007 Morgan was almost in tears as they reached a large entryway. She stopped momentarily to dry her eyes, before entering the large arena like room. With Ross still restrained at the ankles and wrists, she quickly pulled him into the room behind her. Immediately there was loud applause as Ross was lead to the edge of a large open area in the center of the room. The lighting was subdued with the outer areas of the room being shaded in darkness. Morgan quickly left him, retreating to outside of the arena. Ross felt sorry for her, her embarrassment obvious as she ducked her head and retreated into one of the dark recesses of the room. Standing at the edge of the arena, Ross looked around. Several feet away was a tall, well built muscular woman, wearing only a leather thong. Her breasts were huge but what he immediately noticed was what appeared to be a large amount of sperm covering her breasts and stomach. She was laughing and wiping off her arms and hands, trying to get all of the thick goo off of her. The towel in her hand was wet and saturated with the stuff. She was joking with some nearby women as they laughed and pointed across the room. Then he noticed the nude male, lying on the floor on the other side of the room. The male looked as though he was unconscious, flat on his back, his legs spread wide. What was noticeable was his half hard cock, lying on his stomach, sperm still leaking from the swollen head. There was a large amount of sperm on his stomach and pubic area. “We have our newest slave for the arena,” a female voice said above applause and cheers. As Ross’ eyes become accustomed to the darkened room, he could see that there were cushions and couches sitting all around the arena, all occupied by women. The room had thick and luxurious rugs covering the floors. In all there were about 20 women that were seated in areas around the room. Some were watching him; others were indulging themselves with other females. The sight reminded him of pictures that he had seen of Roman gatherings, people laying about on cushions while eating and drinking. Moving among the women were what appeared to be serving girls, each dressed the same in very short white gowns that barely covered them. Ross immediately got the impression that the female servers were slaves. The women that were the obvious guests were all dressed in elegant gowns with lots of skin showing. There was a Roman appearance to the spectacle. They all appeared to be very rich women. In one dark area of the room, two women were kissing, one woman’s hand buried between the slender legs of her nude partner. The one woman was in the obvious throes of an orgasm. Other women were talking, some kissing each other, and some just watching him. Ross could smell the alcohol in the room and knew that the women were drinking. In the middle of the group of women was Mistress Francesca. She was sitting back in a chaise lounge her long legs showing from under her long gown. All of the women were showing some degree of flesh, an air of sexuality permeated the scene. The Mistress rose from her lounge, moving toward the more lit area of the room. At the same time, the well-built woman with the leather thong had cleaned up and was leaving the room. Two of the servant girls were slowly bringing the unconscious male around, slapping his cheek and forcing him to sit up. He was obviously groggy, but coming around quickly. “I told all of you about the bull, the one with the balls. Well, here he is. He is to show us his stuff, one way or another,” the Mistress said as everyone laughed. “I found him yesterday and he is here for your entertainment tonight, and then for my entertainment,” she added, the women laughing even harder. It was understood that the Mistress would take whatever slave she wanted, for her own pleasure, after the show. “Slave, you are here for our entertainment,” she said, directly addressing Ross. She walked out toward him, into the light. “Everyone here is use to seeing huge cocks. But tonight, my friends you are going to see something different. I think that they will find you more than arousing.” She quickly undid the restraints on his wrists and ankles, giving him total movement. She moved up behind him and began to move her arms around him, her hands caressing his bare chest and stomach. All of the women were now watching as her hands slowly moved softly down his stomach to the top of his pubic bone. Her breasts pressed hard into his back. Then both hands moved down, over the metal covered flesh, teasing him. Her fingers flitted over the metal, barely touching him, but touching him enough that he was slowly hardening. It was obvious as his flesh pushed out against the metal cage. “Ummm, now this is beginning to feel very nice,” she said laughing softly. She could feel him hardening. “The poor thing is trapped inside all that metal. We’re not used to seeing such large balls and I’m afraid that I didn’t have much that would cover such a bulge. But here in a moment, we’ll free it so that we can take full advantage of it,” she said, her hand firmly moving up and down the bulging flesh. Her playing was beginning to take a toll on her. She was getting into the moment, her leg moving upward, her thigh over his hip. “But first, we should tell our new slave here what we’re doing, since he is new to our entertainment.” All of the women were ‘ooing and ahhing’; all of their eyes on her hands as she exercised his trapped sexual muscles. Even some of the serving girls had stopped and were watching. “Kneel down slave,” she ordered him, her voice somewhat firmer. He immediately knelt down on the thick carpets. “We’re all more than familiar with what the arena is used for, but Ross is brand new here. It’s his first time. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of him in the future, but for tonight, I think that we should tell him what is expected of him. Since he is here for our entertainment, he will perform for us first. Then after he is rested, he will fight Darcy in the arena.” Ross keyed on the word ‘rested’, wondering what that meant. It was obvious what the rest meant. He was going to have to fight Darcy. It didn’t make any sense to him. Darcy was small and petite, and a woman. He was a man and a former cop. “After you’ve performed, you’ll be given a short time to rest. Your performance will be to your own benefit. In the arena, you’ll face Darcy in a best of two rounds. Being new here, let me explain the ground rules. It’s sexual combat, a battle of the sexes. It’s male versus female. Each round is to see who can make the other one cum. The one who cums the most, loses. It’s very simple,” she said. The women in the audience were clapping and cheering, wanting to watch a sexual fight. They were all sitting up and watching Ross. “As any woman knows, it’s easy to make a male cum. That’s why you’ll perform for us first, to dump some of that load in your balls. It will give you an advantage. And Darcy, being a female, well…. She’s a female. To give you even more advantage, Darcy will apply a sensitizing agent to her vagina. All of this should put you both on equal footing.” The women in the audience were now cheering and yelling, working themselves into a sexual frenzy. It was apparent that they had all seen this show before and were eager to watch the event. They were all sitting on the edge of their seats. “The first one to cum loses that round. After a brief rest, you will go for round two. We use to have three rounds, but found that it got boring since it took forever for the male to cum a third time. Almost all the males that have fought here have been defeated in all rounds. We’ve only had one male that could make a female cum, and that was only once.” By now the women in the audience were almost out of control. They were demanding for the show to begin. They wanted sex. “And, Darcy has never been defeated. After the performance, you will be given to the highest bidder, for her own private entertainment, whatever she may want of you.” The Mistress just stood there smiling. She knew already who the highest bidder was. There was no high bidder. She would take Ross to her bedroom for the remainder of the evening. “So, should we begin the show?” the Mistress asked the crowd. They were all in a sexual frenzy now. “Now your performance begins,” she said, looking at Ross as she retreated back into the shadows of the dark room. Ross just sat there; kneeling on the floor, not sure of what he was suppose to do. The women started yelling at him, telling him to strip, to play with it, to rub it, to jerk off. They were all yelling at him, an excitement filling the air as he sat there. He could feel the blood run to his face, making him feel more embarrassed. He was feeling the humiliation, especially in his genitals. There was no arousal in him at all. “Take it off. Show us your cock,” yelled one woman. “Spread your legs, rub those balls,” yelled another woman. “Loose those balls, show us your seed,” another woman yelled from the darkness. Ross just sat there on his haunches, watching what he could see in the dimly lit audience. “Maybe Ross needs some help, some instructions. Ross, spread your legs apart and take off the chain mail. Show the ladies what you have between your legs. It’s not like they haven’t seen it before.” Ross’ face flushed brightly. He was mortified at the aspect of having to perform in front of so many women. He had been in this situation before, but only with one or two women watching him. All of these women were yelling at him to do things to himself. They wanted to watch him play with his own cock, with his own hands. “Ross, spread your legs and take off the chain mail,” the Mistress said in a harder voice. Slowly, Ross spread his knees apart till they were uncomfortably spread. He reached around behind his back and undid the clasp that held the center chain to the back chain. He knew he was soft. He didn’t feel any arousal. It was almost as if there was no blood flow to his cock. Undoing the chain’s clasp, he let it drop down between his legs. He immediately could feel his ball sack drop down, no longer contained in the tight chain mail. “Do it, now you male pig,” one of the women yelled at him. Ross reached between his legs and pulled the center chain out in front of him. He then undid one of the hip clasps and slowly let it fall down his thigh. Immediately the chain mail fell from his trapped organs, falling to the floor. His cock and balls were now free, hanging out in front of him, totally exposed. There were several oohs and ahhh’s. There were also several comments from women indicating that they were either grossed out of shocked at his genitals. Some of them didn’t like his looks. One woman even used the old male joke about ‘more than a mouthful is a waste’, referring to a woman’s breasts. He was bulging out hugely, but not aroused or hard. He wasn’t even feeling aroused. His cock hung limply between his thighs. But to the excited audience, they could see the thickness of it and the immense size of his balls. Heather’s earlier pumping of his organs, gave him a huge plump look. “Go ahead Ross, prepare your manhood for my guests. Darcy will be playing with it soon enough,” the Mistress said, watching his cock for any signs of hardening. Ross sat there, back on his haunches. His legs were spread uncomfortably wide, his balls hanging down almost to the carpet. His cock was hugely fat, the foreskin rolled heavily over the head. It was so fleshy that it barely looked like any thing sexual, just a lot of flesh. “Play with it, make it do something,” one exasperated woman yelled at him. Some of the women were standing up, one even threw a folded up napkin at him. “I think he’s impotent,” one woman laughed out loud. “It takes all of his blood flow just to keep those balls alive,” she said, everyone around her laughing. None of this was helping Ross. He just sat there, his hands resting on his spread thighs. “Rub it. Make it hard. Show us what’s in those melons,” another woman yelled at him. “You’re an entertainment slave, so entertain us,” the Mistress yelled at him. “Work it or be punished,” she said. “He is impotent. He can’t get it up,” another woman yelled from the shadows. “I’ll play with it, I think it’s a gorgeous cock,” a young voice called out. “He can stick that meat in me, anytime,” came a voice on the other side of the audience. Ross slowly reached between his legs and began to slowly rub the swollen but very soft cock. He tried rubbing it softly, feeling his arousal level beginning to go up. But with all the women watching him and cheering, he found it hard to get it up. He brought his other hand down between his outstretched thighs and pulled one ball out in front of him. Slowly massaging it, he could feel his cock slowly begin to swell. He was a long way from being hard. The head was beginning to swell nicely, but the shaft was still too soft, giving his cock a floppy thick appearance. “Let Morgan help him, she was teasing him earlier,” one woman yelled from the group. Morgan immediately ducked her head, again feeling her embarrassment. She didn’t want the entire group to know about her earlier indiscretion. “Yea, get Morgan to help him. He looks like he needs it,” another one yelled. “Morgan, where are you. Can you help him?” the Mistress called out. She was looking around the room, trying to find Morgan in the group. She was also laughing, having known Morgan for a long time. She knew that Morgan had not ‘indulged’ in any of the activities, except for one time when she was observed masturbating in a dark corner. It was a very rare occasion and they had made fun of her on that occasion. She had been humiliated then. It was apparent that everyone had heard about Morgan and Ross in the other room. “I don’t know if I can help him,” came the soft response from a dark area. Morgan was sitting back in a corner, mesmerized as she watched Ross’ hands working the soft cock. Even thought he was soft, she was more than wet, thinking of what had happened in the other room. Just the site of him, legs spread, working his cock, made her even wetter. “He was throbbing and twitching in the waiting room, when I saw Morgan with him earlier,” came a voice from the shadows. “Morgan, get out there. Maybe you can help him out. It looks like he needs it.” It wasn’t a request; it was an order from the Mistress. She slowly rose from her pillows and made her way to the arena, her head down in embarrassment. She was more than embarrassed. She had quietly existed in this openly sexual group, enjoying herself only in private. Now they were demanding that she play publicly, like they did. She walked out into the arena. She could feel the heavy wetness beginning to push out from her tightly pursed vaginal lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she said, almost in a whisper to Ross. He was still struggling with a slowly growing cock, his hand rolling the foreskin back and forth, and his other hand working the bloated ball. He was getting harder, but not fast enough for the women in the audience. “Help him Morgan,” came a cry from the audience. “Looks like he’s really needing it.” Morgan stood in front of Ross for a moment, her gown open enough to expose that gorgeous thigh again. His eyes traveled the length of her thigh, following it up to where it disappeared under her gown. It was more than enough to get a surge of blood flowing into his cock. Immediately it started to grow in his hand. He was more than embarrassed, but Morgan was quickly easing that feeling from him. He concentrated on her and her thigh. “Relax, let me do you,” she said, whispering to him. She had suddenly gott a lot more brave than a few moments before. She knelt down to his side, pulling the gown away from her. To keep from kneeling on the gown, she pulled it to her side, almost up to her waist. The entire length of her legs was exposed to Ross. He was quickly getting harder. The way that the gown parted allowed him to see a tiny bit of white skin where her bikini tan line was. It was now his turn to be mesmerized. “You’re getting bigger,” she breathed, leaning closer to him. She was now kneeling beside him, reaching across his body to softly take his cock in her hand. She was now holding what she had tried to get to, earlier. There was no chain mail now, just the smooth thickening skin of his cock. He was quickly getting wetter, drops of pre-cum starting to fall from the still covered cock head. The foreskin hung tightly around the head, slowly pulling back as his cock expanded and lengthened. She began to slowly rub it, a soft grasp on him. Immediately he moaned as she began to stroke him. The audience loved it, their yells and cheers getting louder as they watched. He was still embarrassed, but his arousal was coming up in leaps and bounds. Morgan was a virgin. She had been with very young men, but it had been years ago just before the laws changed. Even then there had been very little arousal to it, mostly just for their pleasure. But now, she was holding something that she felt aroused by. The more she stroked it, the more her arousal took hold of her. She could feel herself beginning to gush warm thick fluid in her vagina. It was more than she had ever felt before. She loved the feeling of what she was doing and what it was doing to her. “Ummm,” came a low groan from Ross as his head tilted back, his eyes closed. He was now rock hard. His other hand was still rolling the huge ball around inside the sack, massaging it, coaxing it to release. The effect she was having on him, only caused her to become more aroused. She could feel her nipples pushing out hard against her gown. She wanted to do more, but the entire audience was watching and egging her on. She was embarrassed but she couldn’t stop what was feeling so good to her. For the first time, she could feel her clit swell, hot and thick. The feeling of the swollen thing in her hand was more than she had ever felt before. She wanted to cum as much as she wanted him to cum. “Mount him, Morgan,” came a request from the crowd. In this extreme sexual environment with all of it’s players and voyeurs, Morgan could have easily pushed him down to the floor and climbed onto him, but she didn’t dare. She wanted to, barely holding back from the impulse to go ahead. His cock felt so good just in her hand, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like, buried deep inside of her. Ross was beginning to breath hard. His breathing only made the women in the audience get louder and more boisterous. Some of them were yelling to let Ross fuck Morgan, or to make Morgan suck Ross off. Others were just yelling to pump it, to rub it, to make him shoot his load. They wanted to see it pumping out. Morgan continued her soft stroking, knowing that he was getting very close to orgasm. His knees had spread out farther, giving both of their hands more room to work. Even she could feel his cock begin to twitch. Pre-cum was beginning to almost run from the flared swollen cock head. The audience was more than familiar with the male anatomy, seeing that the mouth of his cock was gaping open and dripping large amounts of clear fluid. They knew he was almost there. “Stop Morgan!” came an order from the Mistress. The entire room held its breath. The Mistress wanted Morgan to stop. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order. Both Morgan and Ross stopped; their eyes open wide, her hand frozen in mid stroke. His cock was actually twitching in her hand. Her fingers were gooey from his pre-cum. He would have began spurting any second, but now he was frozen, seconds away from what the audience wanted. Even the audience was shocked, waiting of the inevitable. “Ross is here to entertain us, not Morgan. Morgan, you did very well my dear. You can go back to your seat. Ross is to finish himself. He knows his body better than anyone else,” she said, her eyes glued to the twitching cock in Morgan’s hand. She slowly let go of him, her fingers actually dripping with his pre-cum. Some of the audience could see this and were just more entranced, wanting to see her finish him. Slowly, Morgan got up and moved back to her dark corner, her head down, disappointed and still embarrassed. “Finish yourself Ross, we’re all waiting to see it,” the Mistress said, a slight arrogance to her voice. She was having fun, just controlling him. It wasn’t as much a sexual delight as it was a matter of the control over him. The Mistress was abundantly wet. She was anticipating what she would be doing to him later in the evening. By now the audience of women were in a sexual frenzy. They were demanding sex, having just watched Morgan successfully bring him to the point of throbbing and dripping large amounts of pre-cum. His cock was huge, bobbing and twitching, the dorsal vein sticking out prominently. That alone signaled an excess blood flow to his genitals. He was on the verge of cumming and they wanted to see the sperm flowing. He knew this. If they wanted a show, he was going to give it to them. And it would help him in the upcoming event. Ross was so close to cumming that he had to hold onto his outstretched thighs, grasping them tight to control the spasms in his groin. By flexing and holding his PC muscle, he could somewhat control his cock, to a point. He was very aware of that point. As he felt the spasms die down, he waited a moment, and then looked into the crowd, watching the women as they watched him and cheered him on. He could see Morgan in the shadows, alone, her gown flowing down between her shapely thighs. One of her hands was hidden under the gown, no one paying any attention to her now. She too was aroused and close to orgasm. Like the other women in the audience, she was waiting to see him finish himself. As his arousal level went down, he reached down between his thighs and softly grasped the thick organ. He began to slowly rub it, pulling the foreskin all the way over the head tightly, and then pulling it back tight to his pubic bone. He could control his orgasm in this manner, with slow stroking. His other hand reached down between his thighs and grasped his left ball. Slowly pulling the stretchy sack downward, he extended it to the point that it looked painful. Even though already a huge sack, the act of stretching it out from his body gave it the appearance of being unbelievably huge. He could hear women in the audience gasp. What he was doing was a process known to veterinarians as ‘milting’. It was an old procedure in which a vet would take sperm samples from a horse or bull. There was no orgasm to it, but his balls would expel small amounts of sperm. It was pleasurable, but nowhere near as pleasurable as a full-blown orgasm. It was what the doctor had done to him on the first day he was at the facility. She had referred to it as testicular stimulation, or testicular orgasm. But it wasn’t orgasm. If he did it right, he would expel sperm, but not orgasm. He could fake the orgasm part, making the audience think he had cum. By doing this, he could keep his arousal level high enough to keep him hard, but low enough to keep him from cumming too quickly. He had a feeling that he would need to orgasm as the night wore on. He continued rubbing himself, the audience chanting “cum, cum, cum.” As the audience watched, he continued to slowly rub himself. His left hand grasped the oversized left ball. So that they could see him, he placed his hand back, closer to his body, and allowed his fingers to probe deep into his sack. There, his thumb and middle finger pushed deep and hard into the mushy sack. Near the top of the huge testicle, he could feel the thick chords and tubes that stored and carried the sperm to his cock. He began to prod and manipulate the huge tube. He squeezed it, moving his fingers slightly until he felt that small spot that would produce a favorable result. The Mistress was right, that only he knew his body, better than anyone else. Once he felt that spot, he manipulated it till he felt that funny little twinge, then an immediate popping sensation in his ball. It was a feeling that spread outward from his sack, up into his stomach and down into his thighs. “Ahhhhhhh,” he cried out loud, knowing that all of the audience could hear him. He jerked his head back, moaning. He was already in a pant, his other hand still rubbing the rock hard cock. Almost immediately, and on cue, a large amount of sperm shot from the tip of his cock. He immediately let go of the spasming cock, allowing the sperm to spurt out of him. By knowing when to let go of his cock and when to reapply pressure to the large tube, he could continue to mimic an orgasm. His cock was twitching, cum still dripping in long creamy rivulets from his cock head. He moaned, he panted, he writhed. On the floor in front of him was an obvious puddle of his creamy ball milk. The amount was small for him, but more than an average male’s orgasm. “Ahhhhhhh,” another long moan came from him. This time he looked into the audience, finding Morgan. He could see her hand frantically moving between her thighs. He smiled at her, knowing that she could see him. His hand grasped his cock again and began to rub hard. Having expelled such an amount of sperm, he was almost immediately less aroused. He was hard, but not wanting to cum like he was a minute before. Faking it again, he waited to the right moment and allowed his thumb and middle finger to begin stimulating the huge tube. Within seconds he felt that same feeling as a large amount of sperm pumped out his twitching cock. The crowd was going crazy, some of them yelling, others staring in silence as he faked multi orgasmic talents. His cock was still rock hard. “Unnnggghhh, Unnnggghhh,” was the only sounds coming from him as he bent over, as if exhausted. Still in a pant, he had relaxed the grip on the tube in his ball sack, his cock sticking out with globs of sperm dripping from the head. The puddle in front of him had grown larger, a huge amount of sperm for any man. He immediately threw back his head and began to pant harder, his right hand furiously pumping the still hard cock. At the correct moment, he began the stimulation to the sensitive tube, causing him to again pump out a large amount of the creamy thick male goo. The audience couldn’t believe it. To them, they thought that he had cum three times. Half of them were silent, staring at him, wondering. The other half was yelling for him to cum more. Morgan rested in a tired heap, in her chair in the dark. After the 3rd orgasm simulation, he dropped his head and slumped forward, as if totally exhausted. His entire body shook as he sat there, his head down, sperm dripping from the now softening cock. It was a trick that he had used when he was an entertainment slave. On nights that he knew he was to perform, he would extract large amounts of sperm from himself, dropping his arousal level so low that he would get hard, but lost most of his desire to cum. He could normally go all night in this manner. The audience had believe it, amazed at him cumming so much and so often. They were all cheering at ‘his performance’. Even the female slaves were standing and staring, their mouths agape as they watched him shoot. Ross finally slumped forward enough that he tilted over and lay on the floor. He lay there, breathing hard, heaving and shaking, allowing his cock to soften for the full act. “Now that was a performance,” the Mistress said as she stood up. She walked out into the arena and next to Ross, still lying on the floor. She was clapping as she walked up to him. She knelt down and took a close look at the large puddle of sperm on the carpet. She motioned for a female slave to come over, no doubt as to her cleaning up the mess on the floor. “We’ll let him rest and then he will begin his first appearance in the arena, with Darcy,” the Mistress said, her eyes on the softening cock still sticking out thickly from him. It was thick and coated in white goo. There was no doubt in her mind that she had just witnessed a male have three orgasms. She was amazed. Ross just lay there moaning. The mistress motioned for two of the female slaves to come over and help Ross. They quickly moved into the arena and helped him up, holding him while they put fluids to his lips for him to drink. By then his cock was flopping around between his legs, fully soft. Even the servant girls were mesmerized by the thickness, their eyes glued to it as it flopped from thigh to thigh. There was pre-cum and sperm all over his thighs and hands. The Mistress made sure that the slaves cleaned him up, getting him ready for the main event. Darcy stood in the shadows, watching. She couldn’t wait for her chance to fight the new slave. She knew that she would hurt those huge balls. She wanted it.