Jo opens the door, and leading me by the hand, walks me to the centre of the room, and onto a small pedestal, about a metre square, and maybe twenty centimetres high. I am wearing a hospital gown, tied loosely at the back. Under this gown I am completely naked. I feel as though I am trembling a little, maybe because I am a little cold, maybe because I am nervous, and maybe because I am overcome with anticipation. I feel my cock hardening beneath the robe. I know that everyone in the room is there for no other reason but to see me naked, and so to be entertained, amused, titillated or aroused, accordingly.

Looking straight ahead, I can ascertain the make-up of the audience. They are all dressed as professional women, aged between forty and sixtyish, of varying shapes and sizes, but all seeking to make the most out of their individual appearances. The low chatter that I heard entering the room, has now been replaced by utter silence, all attention focussed on the object of their attendance. There may be twenty or so surrounding me, but I am so overcome by my own feelings, that I am unable to take in much more detail.

How do I feel? Firstly, I am as excited as I have ever been. The opportunity to parade myself naked before a fully-clothed, expectant audience has always been my heart's desire. More so now, because I realise that if this exhibition goes well, it may lead to follow-on possibilities. But secondly, I am nervous that my performance might not be as successful as I am hoping. These women are not new to being entertained by naked men. Such men have almost certainly been more "manly" than myself. They were probably much younger, more muscular, tanned, outgoing, alpha and dominant, than I could ever be. I am more pretty than handsome, tall and lean, athletic rather than muscular, introspective, tending to being submissive. I boast no body hair, or tan. I am clean-shaven, blue-eyed, and not particularly well-endowed. 

But Jo has encouraged me to believe that these contrasts may be to my advantage, with this particular market segment. Instead of the performer working the audience, perhaps this particular audience would, for a change, like to work the performer! She has discussed these ideas with them, and has detailed some, or all, of the activity at the Literature group event, held at the home of Jo and Liz, some months ago. I am to let the ladies call the shots, and stay compliant, obedient, and respectful. I should revel in such an environment, as I have done in the evenings arranged by My Lady some fifteen years ago.

Without any introduction, Jo reaches up behind my back, quickly undoes the ties, and pulls the gown away from my body. There are a few almost inaudible gasps, before someone gently claps, and gradually the others join in. The applause is polite, not raucus. While it continues, Jo whispers that I should slowly turn through 360 degrees, to allow everyone a complete perspective.

My mind is foggy with euphoria. I am a David in Florence. I am a Work of Great Art. I am a vision to be relished, appreciated and revered. I am fulfilled. I am proud. The applause has died down, and I can hear the proliferation of whispered comments being passed from one woman to another. I could stay like this forever. Automatically, my arms lift themselves from my sides, to rest a while out from my sides, before continuing, to join, clasped high above my head. The clapping starts up again, and I soak it up, proud but also humbled. No other detail can enter my brain. I am unaware of individuals, Jo, the room, the furnishings, anything other than my sense of satisfaction, sexual pleasure, sheer joy. 

Jo is now by my side, holding out her hand. I reach down to take it, and allow myself to be walked from the dais to the first lady inside the door. She is smiling, seated in an office chair, legs crossed at the ankles, hands to her face, eyes darting up and down my body, which Jo leaves so close to her, that she could reach out and touch it. Her lips are now open and damp, glistening in the light. She reaches out with one hand to touch my chest, and with her open palm, feels the smoothness of my skin, slowly lowering it, until I think she is about to grasp my cock. But instead, it follows the contour of my groin to just below my balls, repeating this action, and allowing her other hand to do likewise, on the other side of my now-inflamed cock. Her hands then run a short way down my legs, until she beckons me to turn around, and bend a little. 

Her hands, now together, and touching at the knuckles, explore from the base of my balls, back to my bum crack, over my anus, and out over my bottom. Her hands are so warm, so soft, so gentle. I hear her whisper to the lady beside her, that she is amazed at the softness of my skin, its accessibility, its nakedness, its child-like innocence.

With those comments, she now passes me to the next lady for her to verify their validity. And thus, I am passed from one to the next, along the circle, for each to study close-up, explore and experience as each lady desires. Most include my cock in their examinations, not so much as to arouse, but to increase understanding of its texture, elasticity, and general maneuvarabilty. I am proud of my little cock, and even though some ladies rudely express disappointment in its length and/or girth, I am delighted that it is universally regarded as pretty, responsive, clean and desirable, in an innocent kind of way. Most ladies also take the opportunity to experience the smoothness, accessibility and openness of my hairless balls.

It takes the fourth or fifth lady to gently explore my "boy pussy" a little way, with her spittle-moistened finger. I know I am supposed to be totally submissive, but I find it impossible not to press back on her finger to encourage a more detailed examination. She does not push further in, nor does she withdraw. I want to squirm to encourage further penetration, but I recall Jo's advice, and my desire for this to be the first of many such parties, and so reluctantly remain in neutral. Eventually the finger is extracted, a friendly slap administered to my bottom, as I am told I am a very naughty boy. I let out a little squeal of delight. I take the intrusive finger into my mouth when offered, and suck on it until it is taken away. I know this whole episode will broaden the perspective of those that follow.

One lady spends more time examining my peehole. With her fingers, she causes it to open and close, quietly speaking to it, and pretending that it is answering back. She moistens her little finger with my pre-cum, and manages to insert it down to the first knuckle, advising me that she is careful, and without long nails.

Most of the remaining ladies replicate the routine of experiencing the smoothness and hairlessness of my skin, which the first lady had recommended, and incorporate one or more of the other little eccentricities. Some spanking becomes commonplace. Each personal examination is unhurried, and reasonably private, with only those ladies on either side able to get a detailed view. However, at a greater distance, the full menu of activities can be determined, and so form a basis for what each remaining lady will want to do with me. 

It is this open exploration of my nakedness and compliance, that magnifies my pleasure. Each personal episode is, in itself, highly rewarding. The fact that others are watching intently, magnifies my pleasure exponentially. The fact that they are all in attendance specifically for me to entertain this way, compounds my reward. I am a toy. I am ashamed, but take pleasure from my shame. I am embarrassed by my wantonness, but take delight in this embarrassment. 

Eventually I have presented myself personally to each and every lady in attendance. Jo leads me back to the centre of the room, where she has found me a chair, on which I sit. She informs the ladies that the first part of the show is at end, and that I am available to be invited to any future function where my similar participation might be desirable. Arrangements can be made, initially through Jo. My compensation is satisfied entirely by the invitation itself, and its acceptance.

"The program will continue in ten minutes, for those wishing to remain, and participate."