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BatchelorettePartySuprise

The following is intended for adults readers who want to read fiction about

men and women in adult situations. Anybody who is not legally permitted to

view such material should read no further. All rights to this story are

reserved by the author. Permission is given to archive this story in places

where no fees are charged for legal adults to view it and if no words are

changed, including this disclaimer. Hope you enjoy.

Bachelorette Party Surprise

by Hector's Pup

hectorspup@hotmail.com

We were out of college and a B.S. in psychology gets you nowhere when you

want to earn a living in the real world. My friend Sally and I worked at

whatever odd jobs the universe would provide. On a special evening

celebrating Sally's new temporary position as a crew chief for an inventory

checking service Sally laid the most shocking request of my life on me at

dinner.

Sally was acting plenty solicitous over our second bottle of wine, picked

the right moment, and asked me if I would be willing to be the entertainment

for her cousin Kathy's bachelorette party. She caught me mid-sip and I shot

some wine out my nose, giving me a mild rush. My mind raced with excitement

as I told her, "No way!" Then she started working on me, not willing to

take no for an answer. It turns out she promised her other cousin Jennifer,

Kathy's sister, she would be able to deliver the entertainment. Flattery,

ground rules she thought I could live with, and begging started to wear my

resistance down. It was just a matter of time, because my fantasies were

getting the better of me, as she worked on my ego.

All the talk about what a good dancer I was, how good a shape I was in from

all of my varsity sports and working out steadily, that I could dance down

to whatever level of undress I felt comfortable with, that I would be

admired by a room full of adoring women -- that there was a hundred and

fifty bucks in it for me, was leaving me with little to hang objections on

and to justify my "no" stance. So, as you figured, I agreed.

I was to meet Sally at her place at nine o'clock the night of the party, and

she would take me there. The party was being held in a banquet room

separated off of a bar. Sally told me to wait in the bar and she would

come and get me. I was dressed in my best out-on-the-town outfit that was

tight fitting and showed off my best features. Underneath, I wore a tank

top tee shirt and high cut briefs. I would tease the women to request the

tank top off, maybe even a couple of quick peeks of my equipment under the

briefs but I would end the session after a couple of dances in the briefs

and high-tail it out of there preserving my dignity as best I could.

My nerves were shot. My fight-or-flight response was on red-line. I just

tried to forget the whole thing. What would be the worse thing that could

happen? I was ordering beers, but I was periodically getting too nervous

to swallow normally. I tried to watch the TV, focus on other patrons,

imagining their stories, trying everything I could think of to focus my

attention away from what lay ahead. When Sally appeared with a kittenish

smile, my stomach tied itself into a knot, and I started to hyperventilate.

Sally put her arms on my shoulders, hands on the back of my neck, and said

that I would be great, and not to worry. Some solace that was! She

grabbed me by the hand and led me into the room to a six inch dais at one

end where all of the lights seemed to be directed.

All I could think about at this point was, how not to look as nervous as I

felt. I tried to pace the rhythm of the music as I walked behind Sally to

the intimate stage. The room was filled with friends and relatives of

Kathy and Jennifer, none of whom I had ever met. The only person in the

room that I knew was Sally. Most of the women were somewhere in their

twenties. They giggled and pointed at me, unnerving me all the more. A

couple of older ladies in their thirties and forties started the crowd

cheering to try and get me in the mood. When Sally was through introducing

me and left the stage, the cheering began in earnest. The music volume went

up and I tried to "bump and grind" as I imagined would be the sexiest,

from practicing before my mirror at home for hours, the days before tonight.

I tried to pace my disrobing, basically, one major item per song. Some of

the older ladies were starting to act a little impatient at how slowly I

was progressing to the point they were anticipating. I started to pick it

up so that I was down to my tank top and underwear. I tried to tease as

best as I could muster with the tank top. One of the older ladies was

leading cheers of "take it off". Cheers went up when I was down to my

briefs. I gave peeks, went over to bride-to-be and gave a private

lap-dance and returned to the stage. Then I decided I would close it out

and get off the stage. Sensing this, one of the older ladies took out a

twenty dollar bill, creased it lengthwise, and waved it in the air between

her index and middle finger saying, "Not so fast studly. How about one

more for the road?"

She came up to the stage with the body language that she intended to stuff

the twenty in my briefs. I met her at the edge of the stage, put my hands

behind my head and posed for her while she reached in to stuff the twenty,

but she was taking her time and trying to get feel for her bucks. I lurched

back slightly but thought better of it as the sensation was exquisite.

Then without warning she took her fingers and wrapped them around my balls

forcefully. Her index finger and thumb formed a noose and the others

started to squeeze the jewels against her palm. She said, "Anyone got some

scissors? Let's do this right." As she was waiting for the scissors to be

passed forward, she told me to do exactly as I was told if I wanted to walk

away with them intact.

The pain was making me wince and double over forward. As she cut my briefs

off, the wave of humiliation almost made the pain and concern for my

testicles go away momentarily. "Now," she said, "get your hands on that

cock of yours and get it hard." The younger women with mouths agape were

silent except for occasional nervous giggles. The older women yelled "go

girl" to encourage my tormentor. I looked for Sally, but couldn't find

her in the darkened room beyond the lights. She must be in the back, I

thought, but why isn't she coming to my rescue? Another squeeze with a

pull snapped me back to the task at hand.

My hand went to my cock and started a familiar motion to bring it to

attention. I tried to focus my attention on an attractive women in front

to make it seem like I was doing this for one woman. This didn't last long

because my lady friend with the vise grip pulled me to one end of the stage

to give the ladies at that side of the room a better view. The humiliation

was starting to make this actually exciting because I had lost all control

of my situation. As I started breathing harder, Ms Vice-Grip squeezed and

pulled me all of the way across to the other side of the stage, and told

me not to cum until I was allowed to cum or I'd regret it.

As I started to approach my much needed orgasm, Ms Vice-Grip ordered me to

stop and take my hand off. Stopping short of the desired effect made me

convulse momentarily, as my cock twitched and dripped a clear precum. She

waved Kathy up to the stage. Kathy said, "No, no!" as her party mates

pushed her forward to a spot immediately if front of me. Being raised up

six inches standing before her, with the index finger-thumb noose trapping

and displaying my balls, cock straight, hard and twitching, presented

quite a sight for the blushing bride. The new "Mistress of Ceremonies"

instructed her to take a good look, to touch, and to manipulate me so she

would know how her husband-to-be worked. She reached out with her index

finger and ran it along the shaft, then down around the left side of my

ball sack, seemingly making a mental note of the temperature, texture,

turgidity, and so on. Mistress of Ceremonies said that a man likes a woman

to be more decisive and even take control of him through his genitals.

With encouragement from everyone Kathy started experimenting by pulling,

pinching, gently slapping and flicking her finger into the left ball. Oh!

The flicking was excruciating. The pain shot into my stomach and doubled

me over. Kathy backed away in shock and Mistress ordered me to stand up

again accented by a full hand squeeze not letting go until I forced myself

up through the pain and I nodded with tightened lips as if to say that I

would be good.

Now Kathy was instructed to put her mouth on my cock, to which she

emphatically refused. After some teasing and the realization that this

line would not be crossed by her, a volunteer was heard from the crowd.

Sally appeared front and center. She put her mouth on my aching shaft and

looked up at me with her kitten eyes speaking to my brain, asking me if I

was having a good time. Here was my rescue. She moved her warm moist

mouth along the length of it and in short seconds I was starting to arch on

tiptoes, she immediately took her mouth off, and Mistress squeezed hard, as

I shop my load on the floor in front of the stage. As my spasms subsided

Mistress slowly released my aching balls and brushed off my genitals as if

she were brushing lint off of a suit. She gave them one last pinch, pull,

and underside slap upward with her fingers, picked up the twenty and placed

it between my cock and balls saying, "Good job lover, you deserve this."

I got dressed, rode with Sally to Sally's place in too much shock to make

conversation with her. I got into my car and drove home in a daze, got

home and masturbated to the memories of the evening trying to sort out

exactly what happened.