Vignette; the Exhibit

"No, wait. I want to see this." a dark haired woman standing just to my left in her slim fitting red evening dress and spike heels says softly as she tugs on the arm of her escort to make him stay. "I like this penis and Christine says they'll get six or seven rounds out of him."

The penis in question, and the naked male who sports it, are displayed for audience viewing as one among several 'exhibits' in the gallery for this evening's opening. The male is strapped in position on a straight backed chair, upright, legs spread and arms bound behind, which, I must admit, nicely accentuates the musculature in his well formed shoulders and chest. He's a very nice specimen, circumcised with promisingly plump balls; so nothing against the selection of materials. But it's all rather too dungeonesque for my taste; guests ambling about the darkened gallery punctuated by spotlight illumination of the various exhibits like this one.

Though the spotlight illumination does lend a certain theatrical ambiance, it also limits the scope for viewer interaction with the male as his handler coaxes the expected (by 'Christine' at least, whoever that is) six or more rounds out of him. The contrast in lighting renders the male essentially blind to the expressions of the audience as we watch and renders the pleasure of occasional eye contact impractical. The artsy, hushed conversational etiquette of the audience, on the other hand, is rather nice in that it emphasizes the moans and gasps of the male as his handler works him.

As to the BDSM aspect of the presentation, I do enjoy seeing a male buck and strain against the bonds as his excitement mounts or in the throes of denied or induced ejaculation. But to me at least, it somewhat clashes with my preferred inner narrative of fully willing and self-imposed male submission. It's clear from the deep flush of his penis and the way he looks so imploringly up at his handler or squints out at the audience as she works him closer and closer to ejaculation, that even without the restraints, he'd put himself in that chair, spread his legs and plead for the chance to perform this way. I like that version better. But still, like my red gowned fellow audience member, 'I want to see this.'

The chair he's strapped to is set on a small elevated platform that brings his genitals almost to eye level for the gathering of twenty or so guests that stand ranged in a semi-circle whose arc expands or contracts in accommodation of new arrivals or departures; pleasant nods of acknowledgement, perhaps a few soft words as we all politely shift our spacing to make sure everyone can see. Our hostess, Carmen, the artiste in residence as it were, stands to one side and slightly behind the male so as not to obstruct the audience's view. She reaches in and down with one hand toying very lightly with his penis; a few swift, but very light strokes that get him gasping, then pulling her hand away to leave the flushed shaft twitching. She gives it a moment for the twitching to subside then reaches back in and toys gently with the head between thumb and fingertips.

"Yes, Yes." He shudders as he looks up at her over his shoulder, straining against the restraints to lift his hips as his balls lift and separate in the sack drawing the scrotum tight across the root of his cock. "Yes, please, yes." a hoarse whisper.

She's been working him this way for a short while as she waits to make sure those interested in this particular exhibit have had time to make their way from other parts of the gallery, but it's past the scheduled 8:15 start time in the brochure, so I assume his pleas will be rewarded fairly soon.

"Ahhh, fuck." he exhales hard when she pulls her hand away, his chin dropping to his chest, his body rocking the chair slightly as his shoulders sag forward, his penis flushed in purple/rose frustration as those balls slowly ease back down to hang more loosely.

I do admire talented and creative handling. Our hostess has clearly worked this male before; reads his body's susceptibilities and anticipates his responses with an artist's command of her materials.

"Ah, that's pretty." a trim middle-aged woman to my right says softly.

"I thought you'd like this." her male companion who has one arm around her shoulders says.

"Oh, and I do!" she says with a quiet laugh, "I'm so glad you suggested this. But, you know, when you said an art opening, I was thinking, oh

great

, another . . ."

"I wanted it to be a surprise." he cuts her off gently.

"mmmmmm" I hear her purr as our hostess goes back to work.

A few quick, light strokes again to leave his penis dancing as he gasps "Ah, please, they're all here now. They're all . . ." A shudder cuts him off, a weak, "Please."

"Ohhhh." Carmen coos at him as she eyes his bobbing cockhead from above, "You think so? Hnmmm, you wouldn't want anyone to miss this would you?" she teases him softly, reaching in once more to toy with the head.

"Aahh, fuck!" his hips buck, then freeze, straining upward against the restraints, his chest and abs flexing hard as his balls draw upward again under the conjuring of those twisting fingertips.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait just a little longer to be certain?" she taunts him pleasantly.

He has no breath to answer her until she once again releases her teasing grip on the head. Then,

"Ah, fuck, please Carmen." The chair rocks again as he writhes.

"Hnmmm." Carmen watches as the penis spasms, considering. Gives him just a moment to catch his breath then, "Yes?" she asks playfully and reaches in to run a light fingertip up the front of his cock from balls to tip.

"Ahnnn!" it catches him.

"Yes?" she teases again, as she watches his penis flush and throb. "Oh, I think yes." She laughs and runs another quick sweep of a finger up the length of his cock.

"Ah, fuck." The male croaks hoarsely, his penis bobbing rhythmically now, his balls pulled up hard and tight.

Then a single short spurt of semen pops from the eye, runs down over the front of the shaft. His penis continues to bob but only pulses out one, small additional gob that clings to the head.

"Ha, there he is." The woman in red says to her partner. "That's one."

"Do you like that, love?" the man with his arm around the woman to my right asks her very softly.

"You know I do." she growls happily. "You know I do."

The bound male is looking out into the audience, squinting against the spotlight. I really wish it wasn't so dark and I could meet his gaze, see his expression as I acknowledge and he confesses our relative status as observer and aesthetic object. But this is nice; the soft, expectant murmuring of female voices from the audience as Carmen goes back at him, her fingers slick with semen as she expertly coaxes him back to,

"Yes?" she smiles smugly as she toys with the head and "Yes, I think so." Quick sweep of that finger again and . . .

"Uhnnnm, uhnnnmm, uhnm." His body rocking as the penis bobs once, twice then

"Good boy!" a woman's voice from the audience further down the semi-circle greets a pretty spurt of fresh semen with soft approval.

"There's two." The lady in red keeps count.

And again, after that initial spurt, his penis continues to throb but expels only a remnant blip of come to seep from the eye.

I saw a clip of something like this on the internet once; a male teased to multiple 'ruined orgasms' as they're called. But it's clear to me as Carmen goes at him again for round three, that there's nothing 'ruinous', at least for this male, in the extended pleasureful teasing and drawn out emptying of those plump balls for an appreciative audience.

And we are appreciative.

Carmen seems to intentionally drag things out a bit longer this round, as if prompting him to play up to the audience to earn his reward. Whether it's intended or not, the slower pacing has its effect on his already overwrought excitability.

"Please Carmen," he groans as she seems to tease rather less effectually than the first two rounds, "there's more. I need to give them all of it. I need to . . ."

This is cut off abruptly by the sudden, swift stroking of his cock several times before she releases him, again just short, her timing impeccable.

A woman in the audience predicting, "Here it comes, here it comes." In a happy patter as his penis bobs in frustrated dry heaves before a fresh spurt elicits,

"Ah, yes, such a good boy." A woman's voice elaborates on her earlier approval, followed by,

"Three." A gleeful whisper from the lady in red, "Told you. He's got more though. Let's see it."

She gets her wish, keeping up her running total as Carmen coaxes number four and five from him at steady intervals to a smattering of applause when number five results in several forceful spurts that are somewhat impressive after what she's gotten out of him already.

I find the couple on my right to be endearing; their soft, seductive comments and sexual teasing as they watch get more graphic as they engage in affectionate verbal foreplay for what I can only imagine will be a very pleasant finish to their evening once they're back home. I want to introduce myself, but I know it would intrude upon their intimacy and might break the mood. Still, I'm sure they know that, despite their soft voices, I, and probably others nearby, can hear them. She's literally standing right at my shoulder when she purrs at him,

"I love how it runs down onto his balls. That's just nice." And,

"You like those balls?" he prods her for more.

"Yes." Then, "Uhnm, babe, there he goes again. Yeah, I like those balls; they put out so nice."

Yes, I predict happily that 'babe's' pair will be enlisted to put out nicely, maybe even in the back of the cab on the way home.