The Wager and the Punishment

If I wasn't such a hotshot when it comes to shooting pool, or if I didn't have such a big mouth, or such a tendency to make bets without thinking things through, this would've never happened to me.

See, me and Julie were shooting a quick game of eight ball at Louie's, our usual watering hole, and she was--as frequently happened, since we were evenly matched as players--kicking my ass. that was bad enough, but she had an appreciative audience--five or six girls were having their Girl's Night and were thrilled to see a guy getting humiliated by one of their own.

She had shot everything except the eight ball, and I still had four of the big ones on the table. Fortunately, it was my shot. Unfortunately, the placement was terrible. To make the shot, I'd have to bank the cue off the side, clip the fourteen ball, and kiss the fifteen gently enough that it wouldn't angle into the side pocket, but firmly enough that it would bank back and sink into the pocket on the opposite side. Everything else was behind the eight ball.

Julie was grinning from ear to ear she was so sure she had me, and several of the girls were high-fiving each other and laughing. It was all in fun, and I didn't really mind it, but I had to stick up for myself, didn't I?

"I can make this shot," I said confidently. "I'll bet you anything."

"Bullshit!"

"I can make it. No question!" I sounded confident, even cocky, but I knew that there was no way. I was good, but not that good.

"Oh, you can not, you little pussy-hound! Not even you can manipulate balls so expertly!" The girls roared, and even I grinned.

"Whadda wanna bet?"

"If you can make that shot you said, I'll suck you off right here and now!" If possible, the girls roared even louder at that one, and parts of me were applauding as well. Julie has a taut, curvaceous body, and a face that makes grown men throb, even when she hasn't just promised to lick the wax off your candle.

"Done." I said.

"And if you miss?" That was it. I had fallen into her trap, but there was no backing down.

"Name it."

"You have to come to my Ladies-Only Nude Day Party." I wasn't even sure what that meant, but it sounded like I'd get to see some nude babes. I agreed. Probably far too quickly. But the truth is that I'd have agreed to anything for that one in a thousand shot at Julie's mouth.

Suddenly, Louie's was completely silent. Eight or ten hotties were watching me shoot for a blowjob, though I suddenly knew I'd been set up, and they were all hoping for another outcome.

I looked nervously at Julie, and realized she was blushing herself crimson. She didn't say anything, but I knew that she for one didn't care whether I made the shot or not. A sparkling heat in her eyes told me louder than words ever could that if I missed, I'd be her Manjewelry, and if I didn't she'd fall on my cock with a thousand passions.

I eyeballed the shot and hefted the cue, lining it up. Suddenly, I was aware of the solid manly feel of the shaft in my hands, and I felt completely naked. I was surrounded by hungry women and I had a six foot cock in my hands. Flustered, I stepped back from the table, and slowly chalked the tip. Julie caught her breath, and one of the women actually licked her lips. I blushed and was suddenly very, very hard.

I stooped to aim and shoot, which hurt I was so wooden, and tried to concentrate on the shot. I couldn't. Fuck it, I thought, it's not like I can exactly lose.

I missed. I didn't just miss, I scratched. "Penalty!" someone called out, and for some reason I couldn't stop smiling.

Julie looked both relieved and disappointed, but the grin on her face told me that the penalty suggestion had taken root. I was in for it, all right. I couldn't wait!

Julie explained that the Nude Day Party was supposed to start at eight, but that since there was already a crowd, she didn't see why it couldn't start early. I've never seen three carloads of women pack up their stuff, finish their drinks, and careen into their vehicles that fast, before or since.

Julie rode shotgun in my car, giving me directions to the venue she had rented for the occasion, the entire top floor of a huge warehouse-like structure with a massive open area near the elevator, and dozens of cubicle-sized rooms along the walls receding maze-like into the dimness at the edges of the light. There was a bar a ways off to the right of the elevator, and a bank of kegs somewhat closer. Sofas, conversation-pits, and even a dance floor completed the accommodations, which were industrial-rustic but clean and interestingly decorated.

A huge banner read "Welcome Nude Ladies! Nude Day Lives!"

Clearly the party hadn't started--no music yet for example--but there were at least twenty women hanging out near the bar, laughing and drinking, and every single one of them was sporting a birthday suit to die for.

"Time to lose those duds," said Julie. She was looking at me, watching would be more accurate, but she was stripping off herself. I stared in awe as she pulled her shirt off over her head in one fluid motion. She hadn't been wearing a bra and her tight young boobs shimmied as her nipples clenched noticeably. I closed my mouth. And then I got nude myself.

I'm not as tall as some guys, and not short. Not chubby, not scrawny, not muscle-bound. I would've said average with nice legs, although I was also sporting a boner the size of a Buick. And suddenly there was a gathering at which I was the center.

More than a few of the girls looked totally pissed off, which sent an unexpected thrill of adrenaline through me, and some of them looked bemused. A few even looked glassy-eyed and inspired.

Even though I could see literally dozens of boobs of every description, and half as many pussies--some shaven, some top-hatted, several with landing-strips and several more all-natural--I couldn't take my eyes off of Julie. As I said, her boobs were incredible, but it was her smooth hips and neatly trimmed bush that had me spellbound. She had trimmed her ink-black bush to about a quarter-inch all over so that her beautiful peach was exposed and her clit glinted naughty in the open room. Yet her mound was clad in warm fur, and I broke into a sweat as I contemplated her wordlessly.

"I think he wants to fuck Julie," someone said. Hard as I was and my eyes so locked, I could hardly deny it. And to my surprise, Julie agreed.

"He sure does," she said. Her eyes agreed, too. Paradoxically, I lost my erection, but I didn't care because I knew that I was going to get laid. Made love to. And probably fucked hard and put away wet as well. "But he's gotta get punished first."

"What for? What'd he do?" someone asked.

"He scratched."

"He can scratch me if he wants." Everyone laughed.

"So what's my punishment," I asked gamely.

"Patience, patience," said Julie. And someone else--one of the girls from the bar I think--called out "First, we've gotta auction off his ass."

I couldn't help it. My boner was back. "Auctioned items have to be examined by the prospective buyers." And I was led over to the kegs.

A pair of handcuffs appeared (I have no idea where they'd been hidden) and in a flash one cuff clicked tight around my manhood between my cock and balls and my belly. The other cuff clicked around the handle on the side of a keg. I was irrevocably bound (ass toward the audience) while several female hands blindfolded me, looped something leather around my neck, and wrists. When they pulled tight, my hands were tight against my throat. I couldn't move more than a few inches in any direction, I couldn't see, and there was no way in hell I could prevent any indignity a soon-to-be-drunken mob of female Nude Day revelers could dream up.

"Your safe word is Rumplestiltskin," Julie whispered into my ear, and I very nearly came. She stepped away laughing gently, and I heard her call over her shoulder as she walked away: "I'll be back in about an hour."

I was not left alone.

Far from it. As the party grew, both in numbers and volume, a constant flow of naked women pursuing cold beer, cheap thrills, and even conversation with the nude prisoner moved around and past me.

Fingers were run through my hair. Breasts were put to my lips. Every inch of me was pinched, slapped, and fondled. Icy beers were poured over my aching balls. Spankings were delivered. And my cock was occasionally swallowed and released before I could react.

More than one girl asked how I'd come to be in such a pickle.

I told the story more than once; each time I did the crowd grew, and each time the ladies grew friskier and more appreciative. But no one would let me come.

One girl's friends lifted her and pressed her pussy against my face. My neck stretched backward as I struggled not to fall. I couldn't breathe. As she struggled to get away, my mouth raped her, my tongue invaded her, all to make her come before I passed out from lack of air. As suddenly as she had been shoved to my lips, she was pulled away. Cursing, and begging to be allowed to come, her friends dropped her and walked away laughing.

I could hear her crying from humiliation, anger, and frustration. And I could hear some woman calm her tears, and then eat her to release. Especially given the rambunctiousness of the crowd, it was surprisingly tender, and it made me wish I could see the delicate lovemaking as gentle as kittens nursing.

After what seemed like hours, but which Julie later swore was more like forty five minutes, she was back. My blindfold was gone; the handcuffs were released, and my package was free of the heavy keg that had held me in place. Someone helped me sip a beer, for my hands were still bound.

"May I have your attention, Ladies! (and gentleman) The ass auction is about to begin!" Julie led me onto an elevated platform, and explained to the crowd that my ass was being peddled for charity--breast cancer research, she said--and that the lucky winner could have my ass for fifteen minutes or till I came, whichever came first.

Julie winked at me, which led me to believe, for just a moment, that she was kidding. Then someone yelled out "He'll probably come in about thirty seconds, so what's the point of bidding?"

In answer, Julie scooped up my cock and started stroking me fast and furious. The crowd went wild, shouting and hooting encouragement--some to Julie and others to me. There must've been four hundred women watching me getting jacked, and I blew up in Julie's hand. My come flew everywhere! All over my belly and chest. All over Julie. All over the nearest nudists in the crowd.

One woman sucked a blob off another woman's boob, and Julie stuffed her come-filled hand into my face. A roomful of cheering women watched me eat a fistful of my own juice.

And the bidding began.

Everyone was shouting at once, and the numbers went higher than I would've guessed, but Julie knew how to work up the sexual tension in a room! "Sold!" she yelled.

And a moment later, there was a ripple of nervous laughter and the crowd parted to reveal the winner, walking up to claim her newly-purchased man's ass. She was wearing a frighteningly thick strap-on cock, and loosening the lid on a jar of lube.

I freaked out, and tried to run, but the crowd fell on me and wrestled me to the ground, enthusiastically feeling me up as they jockeyed me into the position they wanted and I dreaded. My cheek was pressed to the floor, and my legs were spread with my knees solidly presenting my vulnerable ass to its charity-supporting rapist.

Someone I couldn't see was on her back between my legs, sucking my cock for all she was worth. She was worth quite a lot to me, because her labors were a very welcome distraction, because her ministrations were exquisitely delivered, and because any woman who will suck the cock of a man who's about to be reamed up the ass in front of umpteen raving women is worth her weight in diamonds and gold.

Fingers lubed me up, and my ass was ravaged while I was getting blown by a genius. Every savage thrust of the strap-on rocketed my cock deep into her throat. Her hands were everywhere! The tip of a finger entered her mouth and caressed my cockhead between thrusts. Her pinkies tickled my balls unmercifully. She caressed my mouth-slick shaft with her palms somehow. She even reached around and held my butt-cheeks open so the artificial boner could explore new depths of my virgin ass as the gasping mob caught its breath.

With an inhuman roar of simultaneous pleasure and pain, I came into that stranger's mouth. She choked and struggled, but she swallowed it all, excepting the ropes of come which tangled in her hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows, and spilled down her neck dampening her heaving chest. I know, because she pushed me up from underneath allowing me to peer down at her fully naked form.

It was Julie.

I rolled off her upheld arms (the strap-on popping out of my ass, its owner exhausted) and landed on my back.

My cock lay on my belly like a shipwrecked sailor on a storm blown beach. Julie untied my hands which were still bound to my neck, and I reached out to hug her.

We held each other, oblivious to the Nude Day throng encircling us.

"Turn up the music!" someone shouted. "This party's about to start!" Julie kissed me, and the music increased its throb.