Mr. Remotely

Mr. Remotely

"There it is! Yeah, there you go!" Sarah giggles gleefully as the semen spurts from the penis of the young male strapped upright and spread eagle on the rack up on the small raised platform.

I like how he bucks against the restraints, hips jerking forward with each spurt like he's trying to shoot it further, his penis flexing freely as he ejaculates, dancing for the small crowd of gathered women. This is how we've agreed all the males we're evaluating this evening will come. Though we'll entertain ourselves using a variety of stagings and methods to get them there, once started the penis is to be left to dance and bob on its own as the spasms eject their semen. It seemed to us the only fair way to compare their performance. Besides it's great fun to watch them that way.

This one has caught my fancy. Twenty something, mouth half open, looking down to watch with us as if he's as fascinated by his own ejaculation as he hopes we are; my vote would be to keep him. I think he's just what we're looking for; nice build, eager, somewhat larger than average circumcised penis and good sized, symmetrically hung balls.

His excitement at being up there for the audience had him already primed to deliver on cue without interminable flogging. Something we look for in any male seeking service. After a bit of teasing and toying to let the audience enjoy him, it took only a few quick strokes from Adriane's practiced hand to set him off. And as for the delivery itself; he put out large, forceful spurts of pleasingly thick and very white semen that will provide better visibility than the more watery stuff the male just before him gave us, though I rather preferred the staging of that one. The prior male had not been bound but left to stand free as he ejaculated.

I do enjoy bound males in certain roles, such as serving as decorative doorposts or framing for portions of an event space heavily trafficked by patrons; say posted on either side of the queue for the bar where women waiting on line to order can handle and tease them in passing or just enjoy how they'll thrust and strain against the straps to silently plead for it; that always adds a bit of ambiance. But to my taste, restraints also somewhat deprive the male of an active role in his own objectification. I like seeing them work to make a spectacle of themselves for our amusement, like that last one with that softly buzzing dildo up his anus, standing with his legs spread wide and hips forward to display himself, his hands flailing softly at his sides, clearly wanting so badly to touch and finish himself, shoulders hunched forward, that mouth half open, dazed expression they get, trying to hold still to show us as the jerk of his hips jounce his balls and make him stumble slightly, the penis doing its pretty dance. He was quite entertaining.

Too bad, though, about the rather watery output; fine for most purposes but visibility matters in this case because, even though it won't be a terribly large reception they'll be performing his toast for, they'll still need to show well for those guests seated a few tables back from the head table. So both timing (what I like to call their 'come-readiness') and visibility will matter as we toast the happy couple on their special day.

I lean across in my seat to my friend Liz sitting next to me as the bound male bucks and spurts a last few desperate blips of semen. "I know we have the rest to go through," I say softly as the other women in the audience murmur and chat around us, "but I'd keep this one. He's..."

"Of course you would." Liz interrupts me affectionately. "You always like the young ones." She teases.

"Well, for what we want out of them, younger is usually better." I observe practically.

"Still," Liz says with a soft laugh, "we have to be fair. Let them all show us what they can do. Genine is getting it all for us." She motions to the small tripod and camera set up slightly off to one side where Genine is faithfully documenting each dancing penis in profile for our later perusal. "Making up your mind so soon takes all the fun out of the compare and contrast discussion."

"What's that?" my young guest Fia leans in from my other side trying to overhear. She pushes her glasses back slightly on her nose and, "So there's going to be, like, a review?" she asks.

"Oh. Yes." Liz says breathily, leaning in across me to smile at Fia and "Ten is too many to keep track of and remember accurately. I mean, we thought we needed at least that many to make sure we had some choice and came up with five who can provide toast worthy come-shots." she breaks off laughing softly at Fia's expression. "Blah, blah, blah, right?"

"No, no, this is great." Fia says hurriedly. "Just the way you guys say things it's..." shakes her head. "So after this though, after they all come, you're going to, what, look at the film, kind of like game film to see...?"

I lean back to let them chat more easily past me. I enjoy the post orgasmic throes of the young male still strapped in position; his chest heaving, his upper body curled downward against the restraints as his still fully erect penis continues to bob and flex with pretty after spasms. They really are endearing this way; his fifteen seconds of ejaculatory glory past, but his body still in thrall to those desperate little twitches of his cock, each one triggering that reflexive little buck of his hips, the crease of muscle in his open inner thighs as he strains to close or maybe spread them further, with equal futility. There is an delicious intimacy to it; his urgency spent, he lifts his head slightly to look out at us as if his bodily and social awareness are being reintegrated; recognizing himself and us, registering, now on a different scale, just what he has allowed us, begged us, to do with him; suddenly even more naked for the loss of his need for release. We'll leave him there on display to writhe a while longer for our amusement.

The pleasure of the moment is interlaced with Liz's helpful explanation of 'coming' attractions for Fia.

"Once we're through the group, we'll take a short break and then replay their come shots up on the big screen. Now, you understand, we do take the evaluation seriously; we want five show worthy ejaculators, one for each of the formal toasts we bridesmaids will be giving at the reception. But we'll also just enjoy playing the whole thing up for the males so, after they've recovered a bit, they have something to masturbate to so we get one more round out of them. Not that we really care about their seconds for our purposes today, but it's just fun to make them do it. We'll probably replay each one a few times so we can react, comment and compliment, you know, make all sorts of girlishly lewd and appreciative remarks with the males all lined up to watch with us and listen to us talk as they jerk off. It's amazing what watching other men come does to them, but then having us all watching them up on the big screen and talking about it and them... " She laughs.

"Ah, that's so sweet." Sarah, Fia's still younger friend, also my guest at this event, coos from two chairs down as she watches the young man strain to thrust his hips up and forward towards Genine who has taken her camera off the tripod and come around to kneel in front of him to film up between his legs from below for a few final shots. "He still wants to show for the camera." Sarah purrs. "That would be a good shot, up under his balls like that."

Another woman nearby agrees with her; says something about how nice it is to have some younger women here to share this. "Always good to have new blood. Keeps things lively."

Yes, well, Sarah is certainly that; though to be honest I find her newbie enthusiasm a bit affected; like that last bit about his balls; perfectly accurate but a bit breathless. Fia, on the other hand, strikes me like an eager undergrad collecting information for a term paper. She's clearly interested in the subject and enjoying the educational process. But maybe I should just tell her there will not be a test later. As for the third of my young guests and potential recruits, Charlotte, she seems to have slunk away sometime soon after we arrived.

Fia, Sarah and Charlotte approached me as a group at one of my campus book signings. They were not particularly interested in my latest treatise on the Ptolemies (though they did dutifully buy a copy for me to sign by way of introduction). They were more interested in some of my less technical writing on some of my leisure activities. At any rate, they seemed genuinely interested and, as noted, it is good to have new blood, at least of the right temperament and inclinations.

I knew this particular event would be a somewhat 'special purpose' outing and so not likely to be as casual and free form as our usual gatherings. But that meant it would be a smaller, more focused and scripted than our usual. As such, it might be a good introductory outing for young women curious about the sport. So I extended the invitation.

My three guests' differing approaches to (or retreats from) the proceedings became evident before we'd even finished our first spin around the floor for initial viewing of the males up for evaluation.

"Do you actually like their balls that way?" Fia asks with a slight frown as we made our initial tour that day. "I mean, it's definitely interesting to see a bunch of guys all, I don't know what to call it, served up that way. But is this considered sort of like the proper way to size them up or whatever, or is this just how you like seeing them?"

"Well," I pause a moment to consider, perusing the naked male standing over us on his small raised platform, his open stance and hips forward position offering his erection and cinched up balls for viewing from below. The strap around his scrotum at the base of his penis makes his balls bulge up and out away from his body.

I read the small card hanging just below his balls listing his name, 'Joel', age, '23', and provenance, 'appellation de Seren'.

"I do like them this way, yes." I answer. "At least for this; all in keeping with the theme: reminding us and them of course, what they're here for. But it's not our usual practice; the presentation here just fits the time and occasion. But it's sort of like Christmas decorations, you know; appropriate for the season but a bit tacky if left up all year."

"Christmas decorations!" Sarah giggles gleefully, moving to one side of him, tilting her head to consider the topic from a different angle. "The way you talk about them, and they just..." she tosses her long ponytail and scans upward to the young man's face. "You make a pretty ornament." She tells him. "Your balls would look great on my tree." And that delighted giggle rings out again when he groans softly and his penis flexes under her teasing. "God, but this is so fun." She enthuses after a moment, holding the obligatorily silent young man's gaze for a second before returning her attention to his genitals. "So fun." She repeats.

"So it's like," Fia steps still closer, adjusts her glasses slightly as she reads the information on the card, "I get it, yeah. So 'Joel' then, is like the variety, like Cabernet or Merlot, this one's a Joel, vintage 23 and Seren, she's like the one who vetted or put him up for this, like the vineyard or origin." She sniffs and glances up along his body to his face. "Goes with the whole toasting thing." She smirks.

"Oh," Sarah claps her hands, "I don't do wine really, but yeah, so it's like their balls are the grapes we're gonna get the come from, or wine I mean." She steps up close next to Fia, reads the card. "Joel, 23."

I turn to scan the reception hall where the other candidates for evaluation stand for initial viewing on their separate, conveniently spaced platforms. I crane my neck slightly hoping to pick out Charlotte's distinctive red scarf and tawny hair among the twenty or so women circulating about the room to inspect the prospects. I'm not seeing her.

"Where is your friend Charlotte?" I ask either or both of my young proteges.

"Ahm, I think she might have left." Sarah says bopping over to my side and searching the crowd with me. "She was taking pictures and then she kind of..." Sarah makes a wiggly hand motion in the direction of the exit, mimicking someone weaving through the crowd. "Think it kind of..." Sarah shrugs, "Maybe just not what she expected." She sniffs.

"Well, any of you can leave whenever you want." I say a bit put out, not because she might have left; this isn't necessarily every woman's cup of tea. "But I am supposed to be chaperoning you, her, just so there's no..." I frown, "Not that there's anything too terrible that could happen. Fine if this isn't her thing. But still. Might have been nice if she at least..."

'Yeah. Not cool." Fia says without much concern. "But, so, this isn't, like, how you do it all the time, with their balls this way?" I turn back to see her still examining the young man, standing a foot or so away from the edge of the platform, head tilted back to look up between his legs, a slight smile. "It's more like a gag thing cause you're..." she snorts, "Yeah, Joel, vintage 23, we're gonna see if that's a good year. But anyway, I like this set up with them up on these platforms; everything right there out for inspection. But the balls jutting out that way..." she frowns, shakes her head slightly.

But I am distracted from Fia's further aesthetic musings by the missing Charlotte. Sarah says it's maybe not what she expected. Well, what was she expecting? She had been rather subdued right from the start; taking pictures with her phone, yes, but even that sort of furtively; holding it away at odd angles as if trying not to make it obvious that's what she was doing.

I told her "It's fine to take pictures. It excites them that you want pictures." But it seemed to have the opposite effect from what I intended, making her flip her phone over as if she'd been caught out at something, and then change the subject to,

"So, it's awfully quiet." She says in a half whisper, pretending to ignore the obvious efforts of the male standing over us at the time to present himself to better advantage for the photo op he's just been alerted to, silently affirming, as the good ones will, his excitement at the prospect of being photographed.

But as to Sarah's comment, of course it's relatively quiet; we wouldn't want the males missing the commentary and conversation among the women. The room, at least in this initial viewing stage, has the ambiance of a trendy art exhibition; ten choice pieces of never before exhibited work (we have intentionally recruited fresh males for this, had them auditioned and vetted by one or more of the attendees). I myself did not have time or occasion to find and review a new male for this, but I am impressed thus far with what my sisters have been able to procure.

So what had Charlotte been expecting? One of those absurd stripper routines with blaring music and some obnoxious male DJ howling "LET'S MAKE SOME NOISE!" as some floppy dicked phallic freak spins and gyrates in the faces of a bunch of... Okay, okay, I'll chill. If that's your thing, go for it. But if I want a male's crotch in my face, or his come (such a tiring male fantasy; but ladies, really?) I don't need some bozo DJ and... sorry, I said I'd chill.

I understand the distraction of such theatrics helps some women; without the hype, commotion, and exaggerated, aggressive gyrations of some 'dancer' assaulting your inhibitions, simply standing quietly before a silent, exposed male this way, feeling his gaze on you as you inspect his body and genitals and looking up now and again to meet and acknowledge his awareness; it can all feel blatantly objectifying and voyeuristic. It feels that way because it is. There is no way to disguise or evade your own complicity; no way to pretend this is someone else's idea or a mere artifact of external circumstances (ooopsie! What have I stumbled into?)

Anyway, that can make some women feel awkward. Still, I thought she was right here with us. We haven't even made the full initial viewing circuit and she's...

"I wouldn't worry about Charlotte." Sarah says. "But hey, can we like go back and see Brad again? I just love that I know him from campus and he recognizes me, I know he does. But he just has to stand there like that, with these other women around and..." that giggle again. "I always thought he was kinda cute, but something about seeing a guy I sort of know up there that way, me standing there looking up at his cock and balls, checking out his ass with him just..."

"Yeah, that is kind of a kick." Fia agrees, drawing up on my other side now and helping, half-heartedly, to scan the crowd for the missing Charlotte. "But let's finish 'viewing'" she makes smirky little air quotes with her fingers, "the last three first. People are still arriving. We should have time, right, to go tease Brad a little more before we get to the come-shot contest?" she asks me.

"Yes." I answer, giving up with a shrug on Charlotte and her whereabouts; she's a big girl and can take care of herself. "Plus, after this initial viewing, there'll be opportunities for handling, edging, you can take a turn on him then."

"Handling?" Sarah jumps in excitedly. "You mean like we get to play with their cocks and stuff?"

"She told us that already." Fia says with a mild shake of her head. "Get with the program, Sar. The no touching is just for this first" again with the air quotes, "viewing part." Then to me. "Why is that? I mean, if we get to handle them later."

"Sets the right tone." I say, "We take our time, inspect the new toys, make them feel their status as our playthings for the evening, make them show us how badly they want to be that for us before we reward them with anything else. But yeah, you'll get to handle them some if you want. We'll unsling their balls and send them around, or stage them where you can stop by and play with them a little; whatever the pleasure of the group. Keeping them riled and on edge for an hour or so should improve their out-put. Just remember, no making them come before the dancing starts."

The male, now behind us, overhearing this, inhales sharply then moans softly, "yessss!"

Sarah glances back over her shoulder at him. "Sweet how their cocks do that flex thing. It's pretty to watch when you can just stand here and..." she breaks off, turns back. "But yeah, okay, let's do the last three."

We move on.

"About the cocks," Fia says as we head towards the next male in the circuit, "the erections I mean. They're all just stiff, completely hard by the looks. But they're not even touching themselves, mostly anyway. I guess a couple are. But they're just fucking hard. So are they on Viagra or..."

"Some maybe. Who cares?" I answer, "As long as they get it up and keep it up and can keep it in their balls until we want it." God, but I love talking this way, especially within male earshot.

"Yeah, I was just curious." Fia nods. "So, but like, you're saying some of them are just naturally..."

"Oh, Jesus, yes!" I laugh. "My husband is absolutely priapic at just the thought of being on display like this. He literally cannot shut it off. Even after he comes, if there are still women around who..." I wave the rest away, "I worry sometimes. You know that add about, if an erection lasts more than four hours?"

"Do we get to see him today?" Sarah jumps in excitedly. "Your husband is he...?"

"No." I say quickly and, "My god, isn't that just lovely?" I ask rhetorically as we approach a very large and muscular black male on his raised platform.

There are a few other women gathered round to view him. They shift a bit, smiling at our approach and politely allow us to share the area at the foot of the platform. I recognize my friend Claire among them and we exchange smiles and friendly nods before returning to our respective evaluations of...