Mind Control

"Mind control.  A load of bullocks if you'll pardon my French," I told it to them straight.  The girls in the office that is.  They hadn't a clue.  Well they were possibly weak minded enough to be influenced by so called party hypnotists but I knew better.

"But I went to see that bloke at the theatre last week.  He got people in the audience to do all sorts of things.  Could read their minds. Knew what they were thinking."

Judith was so gullible.  Not of course like me.  That's why I'm the boss and they are just the girls!

"Smoke and mirrors," I said, "I don't suppose it ever occurred to you that those people were planted in the audience.  That everything he did were just standard conjuring tricks dressed up to look like mind control"

"Never mind the bloke in the theatre then.  We went to Sasha's party last week and she had this woman there, Miss Veronica, I think she was called, and she got people to do all sorts of things."

"What sort of things."

"Well, think they were dogs and run around on all fours and things like that.  It was a real laugh"

"And they were having a real laugh as well," I said, "they're playing along.  That's what these people rely on.  Some show offs wanting to play along.  Did you say at Sasha's party?"

"Yeah, Sasha's birthday."

"And did you all go?"

"Yeah, of course.  She invited the whole department.  Pity you couldn't make it.  You'd have had fun."

Couldn't make it!  I hadn't been invited.  I never got invited to the girls' parties.

"Yes.  A pity," I said, "I had something on.  Perhaps next time.  It's your birthday next week isn't it?"

Nothing like a broad hint.

"Yeah, um... Yeah... It is..."

"I don't think I'll have anything on next week."

"Oh really."

Some people can't take a hint.

But...  Next day...

"You know you said you'd have nothing on next week?"

"Yes."

"Well why don't you come to my party.  Just a few of the girls.  And you of course.  And I've booked Miss Veronica.  You can do some exposing.  Show how her tricks are done."

Bingo!  I knew I'd tickled her curiosity.  She'd want to see how the so called mind control was faked.  

"I'd love to come.  I'll show the girls a thing or two!"

"I'm sure the girls will look forward to it," she said, "showing them your thing, I mean your thing or two."

Of course I took a bottle of wine.  Not that I was going to drink any myself of course.  I needed to keep a clear head to get the faker.  Of course I amused the girls with some witty anecdotes and they flirted uncontrollably with me.  I am the boss after all.  But I was having nothing of it.  I'd only come to prove a point.  And the point to prove was soon coming.

Miss Veronica indeed.  What sort of a stupid name was that supposed to be.  There she was dressed for all the world like Miss Dominatrix 1972.  I'd never seen anything so ridiculous in my life.  Not that I was saying anything of course.  Didn't want her to twig that I was on to her.

She started off with some silly mind reading routine.  I know how all that is done, just suggesting to people that they were actually thinking what she said.  Of course they all fell for it, apart from me that is.  Then she had some stupid conjuring trick trying to make people fail to guess which box her watch was in.  It was only the old three card trick done up to look clever.  I was waiting though for the mind control, then I'd show her.

"Now," she said, "I need a volunteer for a little exercise in mind control.  Who doesn't mind looking a fool?."

Of course I was out there first.  We'd soon see who looked a fool!

"And you tell these girls want to do!" she said, "and you don't mind looking a fool."

"He does it every day," shouted Sasha.  

She was right.  I do tell those girls what to do every day.  That's what being the boss means.

"Stand there," she says.

I stood in the middle of the room.

"Now hold out your arm."

"I held it out."

"You know what," she said, fixing me with a steely glare, "you can't put your arm down,  it's fixed there by steel bands.  It's immovable.  It's rigid.  You can't move it, and the harder you try the stiffer it becomes.  You can't move it.  Can you."

Well was that all there was to it.  Couldn't move my arm could I?  Of course I could.

************

Of course when I'd described to her what he was like.  One of those people who always stick to the rules, always have to do things perfectly, hang their clothes up in alphabetical order and never step on the cracks in the pavement, she knew he would be the perfect subject.

"People like that always are," she said, "they're sort of programmed to be obedient."

So that settled it.  We'd have some fun.  Get him crawling round the floor barking like a dog.  That would show him.  And he wouldn't remember a thing about it afterwards.  Until of course we wanted him to.

Sadly I had to put up with him mucking up my party first.  Boring everybody to tears with his pointless anecdotes, making laughable attempts to flirt, but it would be worth it that was sure.  Just to see him struggling to put his arm down was worth it.  Never mind what was to come!

She had explained.  Once he couldn't move his arm he had given up control.  She was in control, all she needed to do was reinforce it.

"That's right," she said, "you're not in control, I am.  I tell you what to do. Your mind is not in control, my mind is.  Now close your eyes.  That's right.  I'm going right into your mind.  I'm telling you what to think.  I'm going deeper and deeper.  Taking more and more control.  More and more control.  Your arm is floating up now..."

And his arm started going up.

"... And your other arm.  Right up above your head.  You're stretching up and up.  Right up on tiptoes.  As high as you can get.  That's right.  Stretch up and up and up.  Both arms right up in the air.  Now hold yourself there.  You can't move.  You can't move until I tell you to."

And there he stood, up on his toes, shaking and struggling to move, but he couldn't do anything.

"Is he really hypnotised," I asked.

"No, no.  Not what you mean by hypnotised.  It's just the power of suggestion.   He can't move until I tell him and he knows it.  He's perfectly aware of what's going on and he's struggling to move.  You" can see how he's struggling.  But there's nothing he can do about it."

And we could see.  His eyes were wide open and his arms were shaking.

"You see the more he fails, no struggles, the more the suggestion is embedded.  It's like when you are trying to remember something on the tip of your tongue.  The more you struggle to remember it the harder to remember it becomes."

"Can you make him do things?  Please make him do things.  Make him take his clothes off.  Go on.  Make him."

"I can suggest he does simple things like move his arms up and down and turn round.  But you can't just make people strip naked.  It doesn't work like that.  You have to get them deeply under, then convince them they need to be naked...¿

"Oh..."

"But if you wanted to pull his shirt off he couldn't stop you."

"Hardly.  He can only move if I tell him...  Oh heck...."

A buzzing noise came from her pocket and she took out her mobile phone and looked at a text.

"Sorry I'm going to have to dash.  The babysitter's having trouble with the kids.  I'd better let him go."

She turned to the boss, still struggling to move and said.

"I give you permission to move normally."

Nothing happened.  He still struggled.

"I said you can move now.  Oh bugger, this would happen now.  Sometimes they just convince themselves they can't move, then we have to deepen the trance, send them to sleep then wake them.  Look I'll be back in half an hour.  He'll be alright till then if I hand control over to you," she turned to the boss.

"Your going down, deeper and deeper.  More and more relaxed.   Deeper and deeper...  Your mind is giving up control to me..."

She went on like this for several minutes until...

"I give control of your mind to Judith," she said, "See you later," and she dashed off.

I looked at the boss.  What a laugh.

"What are you going to do?" Asked Sasha.

"Wait, I suppose.  What else can we do?"

"Didn't she say to take his shirt off."

"I think she said we could..."

"Well go on.  What are you waiting for?"

"Should we?  Let's take a vote on it?"

It was an overwhelming yes.  The girls were really enjoying this party.  Well the boss had to make some recompense for his boring anecdotes and his silly flirting didn't he?  I went up to him.

"I am in control of your mind," I said, "you cannot move without my permission"

And I started to unbutton his shirt.  He couldn't resist.  It came right off with no bother.

"What a laugh," yelled Sasha, "tell him to take all his clothes off.  Go on."

"You heard what she said.  It doesn't work like that."

"You take his clothes off for him then."

"I'm not doing that!  I don't want to get the sack"

"Well tell him to then."

"I told you.  It doesn't work like that.  Here..."

 I turned to the Boss.

"I am in control of your mind.  You want to be naked.  You want the girls to see you naked.  Take off all your clothes now."

"Tell him we want to see his cock."

"I can’t do that."

"Yes you can.  Of course you can."

"Oh...  all right then.  It’s not going to happen though, so don’t get your hopes up!"

"And we want to see your cock.  Show us your cock.  Show us your cock.  Go on...  show us your cock!"

Nothing happened.  I turned to Sasha.

"See," I said, "it doesn't work like that," but she was staring past me open mouthed.  I turned back.  He'd kicked off his shoes an socks and his trousers were round his ankles.

Stop, stop," I shouted. But he just continued.

"Don't stop him," yelled Sasha, "he's going to show us his cock. This I've got to see."

"I'm sure we'd all like to see, but I'd like to keep my job."

"It's not your fault. He's doing it himself."

"Yes, but I told him to."

"Well, he's not going to remember is he?"

It was too late anyway. His underpants were down and off and he was back standing on tiptoe with his hands in the air. I looked at the girls. They were staring open mind. He was, as the saying goes, a fine figure of a man - shapely long legs, tight buttocks, firm abdomen, smooth chest and the biggest willy I'd ever seen. 

"Crikey," said Sasha, "he's been hiding bush under a cockle, I mean his cock under a bushel, I mean. I don't know what I mean. I mean I do. It's bloody enormous!" 

"Put your clothes back on! Put them back on!" I yelled, but it had no effect, he just stood there starkers, "what on earth are we to do?" I asked.

"Get on with the party," said Sasha, we can admire the view until Miss Veronica comes back." 

It was a pleasing view and I could sense a few pairs of eyes staring.

It was Myrtle, the office bicycle, whom came out with it. Trust her.

"I fancy trying that out," she said, "you couldn't like order him to could you. It s not like I've got any knickers on and it's not like he'd remember."

"Myrtle! I'll do no such thing," the trouble was having the boss naked under my control was a turn on. I think my knickers would have been getting damp, if I'd been wearing any that was.

Still, a visual treat was all I could permit. Then there was a ring at the door. Thank God. Temptation was ended. She'd get him dressed and he wouldn't remember and we could get back to normal.

"What on earth have you done," said Veronica, staring at the sight in front of her.

"I don't know. I just told him to obey everything I said. Then I jokingly told him to take his clothes off. You said he wouldn't. And he did. Now he won't put them back on!"

"And you'll not get him to either. He's in a real hypnotic trance, It's too deeply ingrained. I have to go back. I haven't time to bring him round normally.  What on earth did you say to him?

"That he wanted to be naked.  That the girls wanted to see him naked...  That...  that..."

"That what?"

"Well..  I said we wanted to see his cock...  I was rather emphatic about that."

"Oh my Gosh!  I'll never get him to get dressed again now!  In that case there's only one thing for it.  I'll have to persuade him that it's absolutely normal to be naked. That he wanted to be naked. That he expects to be naked. That girls like to see him naked. That they enjoy looking at his cock. Then when I wake him up he'll be quite happy."

"Right. Er... Okay. You'd better do that. But how long will it last?"

"Several hours at least.  Unless some other female authority figure someone tells him forcefully that he shouldn't be naked. That might bring him round. Otherwise I'll be back sometime to put things right. Problem solved."

She put her hand on his face and said, "Sleep! Now!"

And like a miracle he slumped to the floor dead to the world.

"Now listen to me. I am in control of your mind. You will believe everything I say. When you wake you will still believe that it is perfectly normal to be stark naked. You will still be happy to be naked. You will still think girls like to see you naked, that they still enjoy seeing your cock . You will believe this absolutely. Do you believe this?"

"Yes."

"When I click my fingers you will wake."

"Yes."

Click

And his eyes opened.

*************

Well I knew she'd never manage any mind control over me," I was explaining to Sasha how I had resisted the attempts of that silly Veronica woman. Suggesting I couldn't move my arm indeed. What a bloody pathetic effort. And where was she now. Gone running off home. Tail between her legs. Some excuse about a babysitter.

"I didn't know your cock was so big," said Sasha, trying to change the subject no doubt to hide her embarrassment that her so-called mind control experiment hadn't worked.

I looked down at it.

"Yes, well a lot of the girls have told me that tonight."

"Why have you got no clothes on?"

What a stupid question! Why on earth would I be wearing clothes?

"Well, you girls like to see my cock."

"Absolutely."

I wandered over towards a group of girls beside the drinks table. They must have has a bit too much because they were giggling uncontrollably.

"Hi girls," I said, "Sasha's just been admiring my cock. What do you think?"

"Let's have a look," said Myrtle, a blousy blonde with big tits.

She took a good look at my cock.

"Very nice," she said, "don't suppose you'd fancy a..."

"A what?"

"You know. You're showing us your cock for a reason I suppose?"

"Well you girls seem interested in it. You like to look at it."

"Of course. Well if you're interested I'm not wearing any knickers."

I went scarlet. She was talking about knickers. She wasn't wearing any. Did the girl have no shame.

********

I watched him there, talking to Myrtle, without a stitch on, and totally oblivious of the fact that everyone was laughing at him walking around completely nude. Girls were even talking to him about his cock, and he didn't seem to find this strange at all.

Still, it was livening up the evening up no end. We had not had such an exciting party for years. A man who was totally happy to be walking around in the nude and discussing his cock with all the girls. What a laugh. But surely there were opportunities here for even more fun.

"Boss," I said, "we seem to be running out of drink here. Could you nip down to the corner shop and buy some more bottles of wine."

"Of course, "he said "no problem at all. Do you have some money? I don't seem to have any with me. "

"Jude, you can't you can't, "chorused everybody, "you can't let him go out like that. "

"Why not, he seems quite happy. Let him go."

"I'm afraid I haven't got any pockets dressed like this," he said, "but if you can let me have a £20 note I can hold it in my hand. "

I gave him the money and with gasps from all the girls, he went through the door and down the stairs into the street.

*********

It was a bit chilly in the street, although the June night was still light. A couple of girls were coming along the street towards me. The stopped, seemingly surprised at something.

"You've got no clothes on," gasped one.

"It's warm enough not to need a coat," I said.

"I wasn't meaning a coat, I was meaning, well, trousers and things."

Why on earth would I want to wear trousers? Nobody would see my cock if I wore trousers.

"You wouldn't be able to see my cock if I did," I said.

They burst I into laughter as if I'd said something funny. There's no accounting for the youth of today, I thought. I walked on past them, no time to spend chatting with uncouth girls.

"Nice arse," one of them shouted after. Really! How uncouth could you get. I strode on to the shop and went in. A middle aged lady in a white coat stood behind the counter. She looked surprised as well. Really! You'd have thought there was something funny about walking round with no clothes on!

"You've got no clothes on!" she gasped.

"Of course not. It's a warm night. And you wouldn't be able to see my cock if was wearing trousers would you?" This was so self evidently true that I was amazed that the woman looked surprised.

"No, but..."

"Is there something the matter with my cock?"

"No, it's a very nice one, but..."

"In that case I can't understand why you look so worried."

"It's just that..."

"It's just that I need five bottle of your best plonk. Three red and two white. And nothing over four pounds."

"These ones are five-fifty. But I'll give you a ten percent discount for livening up my evening."

I strolled back to the flat. It was curious how people stared round that part of town. They never acted like that round our way.

************

He was gone about fifteen minutes. I should have stopped him. I really should have, but the idea seemed so funny at the time.

But of course I should have stopped him. I realised that when there was a ring at the door and I opened it to find two police women standing there.

"I'm afraid there's been a complaint," said one.

"Well not really a complaint," said the other, peering expectantly over my shoulder, "more a report from a concerned neighbour."

"Are we being too noisy," I asked hopefully.

"No, it's just that this neighbour, she said that she'd seen...," she seemed to spot something, "can we come in Miss."

"Well, yes, I suppose so."

The Boss was standing in the middle of the room still completely starkers. The police women looked at him goggle eyed. Well they would wouldn't they? A party with ten normally dressed girls and a man completely in the nude with a very impressive cock. It would make you goggle eyed.

"Sir, you've got no clothes on," said the first policewoman.

"Yes," he said, "it's a party," he looked puzzled, as if it was a ridiculous question.

"But why have you got nothing on?"

"Why shouldn't I have nothing on. It's a party and girls like to see my cock. It's very big you see."

"Yes Sir. I can see that Sir. Look Sir. I'm telling you now. It's not normal to have nothing on at a party. It's not normal at all."

A puzzled look appeared on his face.

"You mean the girls don't like to see my cock."

"Self~evidently they do. But you can't walk around the streets with nothing on. Look here. I'm a policewoman. I'm the one in authority round here. And I'm telling you. It's absolutely not normal to walk around stark naked!  In fact you should find it excruciatingly embarrassing."

******

"It's not normal to walk around stark naked...  you should find it excruciatingly embarrassing..."

"Oh my God! I'm naked," I shrieked.

I was standing at the party and two police officers were staring me and I hadn't a stitch on. What on earth! It was like coming round for a dream or a strange delusion. What had happened? I could remember standing there trying to move my silly arm, and the next I was standing there at the party in the nude, chatting to girls and thinking it was completely normal.

Oh my God! I'd been chatting to Sasha in the nude discussing the size of my cock. I'd been showing off my cock to all the girls at the party! I'd gone down to the corner shop with nothing on and told the lady there to admire my cock!

Oh my God! I had nothing on and everyone was staring at me. And I was going to be arrested. I could feel my face burning. I hadn't a stitch on, I was standing there in my birthday suit, and everybody could see me!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I burbled trying to hide my cock with my hands. "Stop laughing everybody. I've got nothing on!"

Judith took over.

"He lost a bet," she explained, "he has to stay naked all evening. Just a silly game. We made him go down to the shop. It's not his fault. I hope we didn't offend anybody."

"Well," said the policewoman, "no harm done then. Just best not to walk along the street like that," she turned to go then stopped and turned back, "make sure you don't let him put his clothes back on Miss. We girls have got to keep men under our heels. He has to pay up doesn't he. I remember when Constable Smithers lost a bet on the cup final. We made him... Well, he was a fine figure of a man as well, but not as well endowed as this gentleman. You girls are in for a real treat."

And off she went.

Judith turned back to me.

"Sorry," she said, "but you sort of went into a trance, and we had to look after you, and you started to take your clothes off, and I couldn't stop you, and she said it would be better if you thought it was normal, except she said that you might realise if someone in Authority said and then I sent you to the shops and I shouldn't have but it seemed like a good idea at the time and...."

Her voice failed away,

"What am I going to do," I wailed, "I've got no clothes on."

"It's all right. Don't worry. The girls really did enjoy looking at your cock."

"Oh My God!"

"Here, have a drink," said Sasha holding out a glass and a bottle.

I took the bottle.

*******

I'd have felt sorry for him, standing there in the nude, bright red, shaking with embarrassment and blubbing. On the other hand he was the boss and it was really funny.

Veronica never did come back, but we got him home eventually and put him to bed and he drifted off into sleep. Never got him dressed mind. Not after drinking that much. 

Still he seems quite happy at work today. All the tribulations of yesterday put behind him. He's even been chatting to Sasha and Myrtle without embarrassment.

Oh, he's coming over to me.

"Hi!"

"Hi."

"Great party last night. Thank you so much for inviting me. I enjoyed showing up that hypnotist woman."

"No problem."

"Good, good..."

"Sir,"

"What is it."

"Don't you think you should put some clothes on?"

"Why? The girls enjoy seeing me naked. I've just been showing my cock to Sasha and Myrtle and they were telling me how much they admired it. Myrtle tells me she isn't wearing any knickers. You should try that... Sorry, that's my phone... Yes.... Oh... Right... No problem. Judith, could you deal with this please. Apparently there's two police ladies on their way up."

Winceyette Pyjamas

They say that men like to look at naked girls but that girls aren't interested in naked men. It isn't true. It's just that their motives are different. Men like to look at naked ladies, women like to strip men naked. That's the difference. For men it's sexual titillation, for women it's the power. They enjoy the man's embarrassment, even his humiliation. Women aren't interested in pictures. They want the real thing. And they want to be in charge, they're naturally bossy. Well that's my opinion anyway and the explanation for what happened on that trip.

The company had sent us on this training course. All the secretaries in the office. You may laugh at the notion of a man being a ‘secretary’, but it's more common now that we're all business support executives or whatever the fancy title is.

Regardless of fancy titles everyone thought of us as ‘the secretaries’ and everybody presumed secretaries were girls. That was how the mistake was made I suppose.

To save money some clever clot in the travel department had put us all into an apartment. A three bedroomed apartment, for the six of us. Five girls and me.

It was only when we got there that we realised. Of course I couldn't share a room with a girl. That would not have been acceptable. I nobly volunteered to sleep on the sofa. There were spare blankets available. I could get sort of comfortable. Sort of.

I can't say the morning wasn't without its embarrassments. For me anyway. The girls didn't seem to mind. They wandered round in their pyjamas or their underwear without any concern. I suppose girls' pyjamas are quite respectable. You couldn’t say the same for bra and panties mind, but it didn't seem to bother the girls that I was there.

I suppose my pyjamas were respectable too. In a way. They were blue and stripy and made out of the cotton flannel material called Winceyette. The girls fell about laughing at them.

Whoever wore Winceyette pyjamas nowadays! That seemed to be their opinion anyway. 

Anyway there they all were dressed in their pyjamas or in bra and knickers - all five of them. The noisiest was Nicola, short, dark, a little on the plump side with short curly brown hair. She was what would have been called at school a madcap, always doing crazy things and getting into what might have been called scrapes. She was sharing with the blousy, blonde blue eyed Marilyn. She of the big bosoms and broad behind. Commonly regarded as the office bicycle, rumour had it that she had been ridden by all the men. Not me of course. I didn't count.

Sharing the second bedroom were Yvette and Sally. Little Yvette was, a sexy import from France with black hair cut severely in a page boy cut. For some reason she was never to be seen without a little pill box hat on her head. Sally was the bossy no-nonsense head girl type, a jolly hockey sticks girl - an English girl of eleven stone two and five foot ten in her dancing shoe, as the old song has it. I always thought she had it in for men.

Finally on her own, and the only one who wouldn't troop round in her underwear was Mindy - a rather shy, reserved, mousy girl who never said much, but who would have scrubbed up well, as the saying goes, if anyone had taken the time to do the scrubbing.

It was perhaps Mindy that caused me to put my first foot on the road that led to my downfall. The bathroom didn't have a lock on the door, so in order to avoid embarrassment it had been decided to hang a sock on the door knob if inside in a state of undress.

The trouble is that I'm the sort of person that tends to wander round in a dream half the time. I hadn't noticed that Mindy wasn't wandering around in her knickers like the rest of the girls. She was in the shower and I walked in on her. I don't know who was more embarrassed, her or me.

I was mortified. I'd seen Mindy with nothing on. Only for a split second before I averted my eyes but nevertheless....

The other girls thought it hilarious. But poor old Mindy. She was going to get ribbed about that for the rest of the day. We both were. That was perhaps why she did what she did. Revenge I suppose.

It was a typically boring training day. The sort that needs to be expunged from the memory as rapidly as possible, and can only be expunged by a good dinner and copious amounts of alcohol.

Have you ever had dinner with five girls on a business trip when they have imbibed copious amounts of alcohol?

They tend to get a bit, how shall I put this politely, boisterous, and obsessed with sex. And the sex they got obsessed with was mine, and in particular how big it was.

They took bets.

Not that I was going to tell them. Not that they wanted me to tell them. They wanted to measure it. I felt lucky to get out of the restaurant with my trousers still on.

As I finally got on to the sofa, in my Winceyette pyjamas, under my snugly blanket, I finally felt safe. I had had far too much wine and was soon in a deep and oblivious sleep.

**************

In a way I was glad to be sleeping on my own. I've never been good at sharing, and when that nerd (whoever heard of a male secretary before - must be a real wimp) offered to sleep on the sofa it seemed a godsend.

Mind you. If we'd been sharing! I'd always rather fancied him see (I have a thing for wimpy nerds). Maybe we could have? Why not? They said Marilyn has set a target of doing all the men in the office and she hadn't ticked him off yet. She'll get those silly pyjamas off him if he didn't look out. That's what I reckoned. 

Anyway I was asleep when there was a tap on the door and in come the others giggling and holding their fingers to their lips like people do when miming don't make a noise.

"Shhh!" Whispered Nicola, always the one to come up with the mad ideas.

"What?" I was still a bit bleary eyed.

"We're going to see who's won the bet."

Now I understood. We'd had this like silly bet on how big a one he had. You know what I mean. I have this theory that men with blonde hair always have big ones. Admittedly it was gained from looking at pictures of that film star bloke (you know the one with the blonde hair) that somebody had put on the internet. The ones there was all the fuss about. Well he's got a big one hasn't he! Bloody enormous.

So I had bet on 'Big'. Needless to say nobody else had so I stood to win a fair bit.

"How are we going to find out?"

"He's flat out and I've got a pair of scissors," said Nicola, still giggling.

We crept through into the living room where he was fast asleep under the blanket we'd given him.

We each took a bit of blanket and lifted it off. There he was. Lying there in those silly pyjamas. The sort that went out of fashion in about 1327.

Nicola opened and closed her scissors and then carefully snipped all the buttons off his pyjama jacket. It fell open. 

She grinned at the rest of us.

"Now for it," she mouthed, and snipped the button holding the pyjama bottoms together. She carefully opened them up. A gasp went round.

"Bloody hell," said Marilyn, "that's a whopper!"

And she, as we all were aware, was a girl who would know.

"But why is it... Well you know... Why is it... Well... Up?"

I was curious. 

The others looked at me as if I was stupid.

"They always go up when men are asleep," explained Nicola, "don't you know anything!"

I did know one thing. The sight of a whopper in all its glory was having an effect on me. Indeed it was having an effect on all of us.

It made me feel incredibly naughty. I had an overwhelming urge to...

*********

It had been really funny snipping his buttons off like that and well worth it! His cock up like the Eiffel Tower and almost as big!

Well worth a viewing. And handing over five quid to Mousey Mindy whose eyes were nearly popping out of her head. Who'd have guessed it!

And who'd have guessed what would happen next, and they call me a madcap!

Bloody Mindy only goes and starts pulling his pyjama bottoms down. I was sure he would wake up, but he was right out with all that wine he'd consumed. She soon had them completely off.

I thought she'd leave it there, but some devil seemed to have got hold of her. She took the scissors and started snipping at his pyjama jacket. It wasn't long before she had that in shreds and he was lying there completely starkers.

We'd stripped him naked! 

She put her finger to her lips, picked up the remnants of his pyjamas 

the blanket and we all crept back to our rooms. He was in for one big surprise in the morning.

********

I opened my eyes. My head felt like a balloon and the noise that the girls made as they clanked around the apartment seemed to reverberate through it like a gong.

What had I drunk last night! I had no idea. I'd forgotten almost everything about the evening.

"Morning," said Marilyn, looking for once in her life in that sexy seductive way she used on men, but never on me, "Nice to see you."

She said it in a funny sort of way, as if it had some special meaning. Only when I glanced down did I realise what that meaning was. She could see me all right. I was in the nude. Completely in the nude.

It dawned on me in a flash what must have happened. I'd come back drunk. Got undressed and gone to sleep naked. What on earth would the girls think. What on earth was I going to do!

I leapt up covering my willy with my hands. 

"Sorry, sorry," I burbled like an idiot, "I must have... I mean I mustn't have,,, I mean I must..."

If truth be told I didn't know what to say. I felt my face burning as red as a beetroot. All these girls could see me with no clothes on. It was so embarrassing!

"Stop standing there like a blushing maiden hiding her maidenly treasures," said the grinning Marilyn, "We're not delicate flowers who faint at the site of a penis! Come and help get breakfast ready,"

"But I've got to get dressed," I looked round wildly for my clothes. They were nowhere to be seen.

"Oh bother your clothes," said Marilyn, "we like having a naked man at our beck and call. Sort of the natural order of things. Don't you agree girls?"

"But where are my clothes?"

"Well, we sort of hid them. It seemed the right thing to do. As I said. Naked man. Beck and call. Natural order of things. You can start by cooking breakfast. I'll have fried egg. You can ask the others what they want."

I looked at the others expecting them all to laugh and produce my clothes. But to my consternation they started giving me orders. They were deadly serious.

*********

It's funny how group psychology works. Marilyn's original idea had just been to have a laugh by hiding his clothes. The look on his face alone would be worth it, she had said. And she was right. It was worth it. And we were having so much fun with him, he was so red faced and so embarrassed, that nobody wanted it to end there. If it had just been me or Marilyn or any one of us it would have ended there. But being in a group gives you courage, courage just to go that one step a little further.

Nicola instructed him to make breakfast for us all. Nude. Our own naked manservant she said. And we all played along of course. Who wouldn't. It was a laugh. We didn't really expect him to do it.

*********

There is something funny about being nude when everybody else is dressed. Completely nude that is. Without a stitch on. It's probably because you feel extremely embarrassed and extremely vulnerable at the same time.

Everybody can see everything. You can't have any secrets. It makes you feel subservient. You tend to do what people tell you.

That's my only explanation for what happened next. I knew I should stick up for myself, demand my clothes back, threaten them with something or other. But somehow I couldn't do any of that. I started making breakfast in the nude. I thought it was the easy way out, but it was the first step on the slippery slope to my total humiliation.

********

My name is Yvette and I am French. Always I am thinking that the English they are so reserved and they do not have the little naughtiness’s that we like in Paris. And here I am so wrong.

These girls they take all the clothes off this Englishman and say he must be the nude servant, like my boyfriend he is the nude servant for me in Paris, and instead of being the reserved Englishman he agrees. Oh la la! This I would not have believed if I had not myself seen it!

But there is something that is missing. The nude servant he must have the collar and lead that the nude slave he must always wear, and it is I, Yvette, who have the collar that I use in Paris. I go search it.

******

It was the collar that did it I think. If I had put my foot down then. If I had refused to wear it things might just have gone down as one big joke. But wearing the collar turned me from the butt of a joke into naked slave.

When Yvette started to put it round my neck I should have said no. I should have run off, done anything. But she was standing close to me as she looped it over my head with one hand, the other, unseen by the rest of the girls, was gently cradling my balls. It was at the same time both reassuring and threatening. I didn't object. Before I knew it the collar was round my neck and she held the other end of the leash.

********

We were all a bit taken aback when Yvette reappeared with her collar and leash. Our naked servant had served us breakfast and I for one had presumed that the fun was over and we'd give him his clothes back. We had a free morning from the course and we were supposed to be preparing for the afternoon, when Yvette suddenly disappeared and reappeared with a collar and leash. She looped it over his head and tightened.

You probably think this is all rather naughty, but it just kept escalating a little bit every time.

"Good Boy!" Said Yvette, "You go, what you say, Walkies! Yes! You go walkies!""

***********

They were all laughing at me.

Yvette had put the collar around my neck and was leading me round the room stark naked on all fours like a dog.

Everybody found it hilarious. As for me, I thought 'once round the room and they'll let me have my clothes back'. So I put up with the humiliation.

She led me once round the room then right up to Mindy.

"There you are," she grinned, "the little Peeping Thomas ready to pay his, how you say, penance. What is it to be?"

Mindy just shook her head. I breathed a sigh of relief, but in the end it might have been better if she'd suggested something. As it was it was Sally who interjected.

"I say string him up by his balls," she said. Well I said I thought she had it in for men. I don't suppose she meant it literally, but the others cheered and when girls get worked up then one thing leads to another.

********

I hadn't really meant it literally. I mean he deserved to be strung up by his balls after sneaking in on poor Mindy like that - but what do you expect of men. One track minds all of them.

It was just that everybody seemed to be expecting Mindy to come up with an exemplary punishment and she was completely tongue tied so I just threw in the suggestion.

But then they all took it seriously. 

"Yeah! String him up by the balls," they all cried. Well I knew this little trick. You see I've been about a bit in my time. It wasn't stringing him up by the balls but it seemed somehow appropriate. I walked behind him and as he looked apprehensively around I whipped his hands behind his back, two loops of the lead round his wrists, a sharp tug and he was restrained, hands tied behind his back, helpless, balls at our mercy, cock at our mercy. If he struggled it tightened the choke collar round his neck. I fastened the lead to the door handle. He was naked and bound. All we had to do was think what to do next.

And in a way our mind was made up for us.

***********

I once read somewhere of what is called the boiling frog effect.

It has been described thus:

The boiling frog story is a widespread anecdote describing a frog slowly being boiled alive. The premise is that if a frog is placed in boiling water, it will jump out, but if it is placed in cold water that is slowly heated, it will not perceive the danger and will be cooked to death. The story is often used as a metaphor for the way in which a person fails to react to a gradually increasing danger until it is too late.

I'd been stripped, I'd been humiliated and now I was tied up and helpless. And all because I'd let them go a little bit further and a little bit further until it came to this.

My cock was at their mercy and it was bolt upright and has hard as a rock. I've never felt so embarrassed in all my life.

At least I hadn't been strung up by my balls.

Yet.

********

They think I'm little Mousy, Wouldn't Say Boo to a Goose, Mindy.

What they don't know is that I know men and I know their cocks. Playing with men's cocks is my favourite sport. I just don't go around telling people.

I had thought what his punishment would be. Tempting though stringing him up by his balls was my way was much more subtle and much more of a torment.

I was going to tease his cock. Tease it and tease it and tease it until he was brought the brink and then make him beg for relief. He would have to beg and beg to be finished off, and once he had begged enough he would be released and allowed to bring himself off. That would be his ultimate humiliation.

I started to stroke his cock but Sally still had another little addition. A little icing on the cake as they say.

********

I didn't see why he shouldn't have a little pain with his pleasure. There was a little ball of string in the drawer. I fastened a little loop and fitted it snugly round the balls then tied the other end to where it would cause the most discomfort. I nodded to Mindy to begin.

*********

So what was it that had got me into this situation: boiling frog effect, group psychology or just the fact that whatever their basic personality all girls get a thrill out of domination and only need an excuse to exercise their power.

Whatever the explanation I had been stripped, bound and my balls had been leashed - the free end wrapped round Mindy's foot so she could yank them whenever she liked. And she liked.

And then she started to tickle my cock. It was up, it was hard and it was throbbing. I was on the verge of exploding, but whenever I was just about to let fly Mindy stamped her foot, the noose tightened round my balls and my poor cock was left begging for more.

Not only was my cock begging. I was begging.

********

I was enjoying this. The little nerd was begging and I was going to make him toss himself off in front of us. It would be the ultimate humiliation.

"All right," I said grinning, "loose his hands Sally.

*****

I couldn't help it. Once my hand was free I had only one thought. It went straight to my cock and even with all the girls watching, even in front of that laughing audience I worked my cock into a frenzy and let fly.

After everything, with all that built up pressure my balls were pumping like a fire hydrant. At least it went straight in Mindy's face so I had that satisfaction."

"Oh My God!" Shouted Sally, "Look!"

She was pointing at the clock.

"We're supposed to be back at the course in twenty minutes and I haven’t done my hair yet."

The girls dashed off.

I looked round. I was alone in the living room. I got my hands free, got dressed and met the girls to catch the bus to the course. It was going to be another boring day.

Or was it?