The Conductor and the Squirt

The gala at our internationally renowned symphony orchestra is certainly the highlight of each season. Of course only members of a certain wealth can afford tickets, but being a cultural organization, we do stream live to the public. We are of the belief that culture should be accessible. I am the conductor and I lead our VIP guests through their evening. The VIP guests are usually representatives from other institutions who have donated substantially to the symphony orchestra. They are mainly men with a certain predilection. They, like the rest of the audience, and certainly members of the public watching from the comfort of their own homes, have come to see the playing of the instrument- the Madison James. She is a beautiful instrument, and to play her brings delight.

It is the VIP members, however, who remain after the performance - largely classical, with your traditional buildup to a stunning crescendo - for a late evening of jazz with the instrument. Jazz is a wild form of music, Adorno called it "the false liquidation of art," and yet, even a man trained in the classical form such as myself may enjoy a glass of whiskey and some jazz late in the evening.

The instrument is finely tuned, indeed it takes weeks to tune her and the orchestra to her; unlike many instruments, the Madison James has an inherent tempo that must be adjusted for. Madison James can give the artist a truly unique and marvelous sound, but she requires mastery and responds best to control. This may seem antithetical to Jazz, but over the years we have discovered that the new methods we improvise for playing her simply add to the delight.

The night begins with dinner. There are four courses. It is midway through the first course that instrument is brought out for display. She is placed on a pedestal in the center of the room for easy viewing, and the tables are organized around the pedestal, so that one may eat and observe the instrument simultaneously. While we do not require any particular etiquette at the gala, it is custom for silence to fall as the instrument emerges. She is held on either side by a choral member - this is the only night of the year we have a choral section and it certainly heightens the performance. Once the instrument has been placed on the pedestal, she is bound in place. Then I step forward and introduce our audience to the instrument.

See how she trembles, I say. See the delicate lips. I place a finger in the mouth of the instrument. This is where the majority of the sound emerges, I explain. Various objects may be placed in here to affect the tone and timber. I let my finger leave her mouth and I trace a line down her neck. The neck of the instrument, I tell the audience can be moved to orient the direction of sound. I grasp her by the chin and move her head around, to each section of tables in turn. Without any warning, I pinch her nipple, and hear her gasp. As you can see, the breasts of the instrument can be used to elicit various sounds at various pitches. I pinch and pull on her nipples a little more to give the audience of idea of her range. It is truly magnificent. Then I continue down, my fingers lightly tickling her stomach, causing her to push back against the choral members who hold her in place. The stomach, I explain to the audience, is the ideal place for binding the instrument into position. Below the breasts and above the cunt centers the instrument well, while still allowing for movement in the neck, and even access to the ass - although this audience has little knowledge of what the ass of this instrument can contribute to a performance. That was discovered during the improvisational practices of a late night jazz session some years ago.

This is the cunt. It must remain lubricated in order for the orchestra to reach a crescendo properly. As you can see, I say, as I spread the fat lips of her cunt wide, the lubrication process has already begun. The Madison James is a peculiar instrument, in that it responds both to language and attention. This is why we have the choral section this evening. On cue, the choral members holding her begin to sing in round "Madison is dirty, Madison is wet." The Madison James begins to redden. An excellent sign, I tell the audience, when the instrument changes hue. Now, I say, let's have a group exercise in playing the instrument, shall we? Everyone please take hold of your salad fork and tap it on the table in tempo. Very good, now watch the instrument and sing along with our choral members, won't you?

This is a favorite of the dinner, the entire room erupts into song. Madison is dirty, Madison is wet. This is very entertaining for our guests, but it is also truly necessary - the Madison James must be built up gradually to performance level, every time she is played. One of the choral members rubs the top of her clitoral hood lightly now and again when he leans over to whisper the lyrics directly into her hear. The instrument responds particularly well to this.

By now we've reached the soup course, which means it is time for the first penetration. One of our VIP guests is invited to the floor to stick the large phallus shaped vibrator into her cunt. The VIP guest must shove it in all the way immediately. Traditionally, the hall erupts into cheers, when the vibrator goes into the hilt. The instrument's head will fall back, her lips will open. Then we wait and watch. The vibrations are steadily increasing. I show the audience the telling signs that the Madison James is getting close to her first crescendo. Her nipples are hard and sticking out, and a choral member pinches them now and again. See her breasts move up and down, I show the audience, this heaving of her breasts is a sign that she is very close. Now, just when she tenses up, I tap the VIP guest and he swiftly removes the vibrator from her cunt, just before she can reach crescendo. This causes her hips to push forward and a cry to escape her lips. It is time for the entrée, and now it is up to the choral members to build her up to the very breaking point and then pause.

My favorite method is the ice cube on the nipples. What pleasurable sounds this causes. The audience quietly eats their entrees while they watch the instrument. If all goes according to plan, the Madison James is squirming uncontrollably by dessert, making small noises at greater frequency. While our audience enjoys dessert, the instrument is moved to the auditorium for the main performance with full accompaniment. This is the time we set up the cameras as well, and get them focused for the livestream. This year, we were given a grant that allowed us to team up with cinemas around the country to show it all on the big screen. It has been tremendously gratifying.

For the main performance, the instrument is bound by the stomach to a tall metal pole. The ankles are bound to hooks in the floor spread far enough apart to give the audience a good view of the cunt. The room is dark except the spotlight on the Madison James, creating a dramatic effect. There are also certain devices for playing the instrument on the stage. We have a small contraption for pistoning the vibrator in and out of the instrument's cunt, and a brush attached to what we call a thrummer - small vibrating box. The brush is placed against the instrument's clitoris. After years of experience, we have learned that all the bristles against the clit of the Madison James vibrating away add more to the crescendo than can properly be put into words.

Now the musicians file in to the pit. They begin to tune their instruments. The choral section fills in behind the instrument. I spank the instrument a few times, it is one of our little pre-performance rituals. Finally, the audience comes in and takes their seats in a semi-circle around the instrument. Of course, or VIP guests are seated in the first row. The lights go down. The spotlight comes on.

All eyes are on the instrument. The thrummer is turned on. The bristles hum against her clit, and her flushed, sweaty body begins to tremble. Soon the moans begin to emerge, and I, the conductor, raise my baton. As we have practiced for months, I begin to play to her moans. It begins with the choral section crooning behind her, "Madison is dirty, Madison is wet. Madison is moaning, Madison is wet." They sing quietly behind her and then the strings come in. After the strings start, it is time for the second insertion. This one is designed to lead us more slowly towards the final crescendo. The vibrator begins to piston in and out of the instrument's cunt slowly. The woodwinds begin, and as the Madison James begins to buck on the vibrator, attempting to get it to move to her preferred tempo, the percussion starts in. The choral section is getting louder now. The vibrator picks up its tempo somewhat, pistoning in and out of the instrument's cunt. When the Madison James appears incapable of staying still, the brass finally come in. The Choral is on full blast now.

I am the conductor. I, alone, have the power to bring the instrument to the crescendo she so desperately wants. The eyes of the Madison James are the most mesmerizing part of the performance for me. Especially at the end, when they beg. They beg the conductor for the finale, and I, in my infinite mercy and bountiful compassion, give what is only mine to grant. I raise my hands slowly and then I close them into fists. The orchestra comes to a stop. The choral section fades away. All that can be heard is the sloshing of the vibrator in and out of the cunt of the instrument, and the moans. The vibrator is pistoning out at top speed now. As the Madison James tenses up, I give the slightest nod. The choral member behind her, acting on months of training, watches the instrument closely and at precisely the right moment, reaches around and pinches both nipples. This elicits the crescendo. It begins with the scream. The Madison James screams as she reaches her crescendo and then the abdomen tightens. The vibrator is immediately pulled out and at long last, the pinnacle of the evening: the squirt.

The liquid comes forth from the cunt of the instrument and splays across the stage as the instrument screams, her body trembling mightily. It is a sight that perhaps cannot be reproduced in mere words, it is glorious. The light on the stage is such that every drop is lit up as it volleys forth. Perhaps most exquisite is the way the instrument appears to be at once in agony and in ecstasy. The body of the instrument contorts as the cunt gushes, the trembling is clearly uncontrollable, the head of the instrument is thrown back, her lips fall open and her breasts heave mightily. The whimpers of the instrument are my own favorite part, the little noises that cannot be held back.

There is thunderous applause, the audience is on its feet. The Choral section begins again, singing the audience out. It was a very successful performance. But most gratifying of all is the knowledge that for the VIP guests and myself, this is merely the beginning of the night.