Nolan’s hands were bound over his head. His feet touched the ground, so his arms didn’t strain to hold his weight, they just stretched above him, locked securely with chains attached to the leather cuffs upon his wrist. Nolan had been locked this way, in a room full of busy men, for an hour. Weight bearing or not, his arm muscles had begun to ache.
Below him, his legs were spread, held apart by a metal bar decorated with symbols from an ancient past. His ankles were cuffed to the bar, his feet bare, as was the rest of his naked body. Nolan had been cleansed and scrubbed, inside and out. His body hair had been freshly removed, his skin oiled. This left Nolan smooth and silky, glistening in the early afternoon light that filled the room.
Nolan was being prepared.
Having studied every step of the ceremony rituals didn’t make Nolan as ready, so far, as he’d imagined it would. Who could mentally prepare for the humiliation of so many hands upon his body, Nolan bound helpless to defend himself even as instinct demanded he resist their touch. Nolan understood, intellectually, the process he was being taken through, but when the man hands spread his ass, inserting oiled digits, before invading his body with a smooth glass cylindrical object meant to fill him for the entire day, Nolan cried out, “Enough!”.
Nolan’s unedited outburst was met with a sharp crop against his back. Men that he would lead tomorrow, today, were in charge of every part of his body. A voice hissed, “Honor Ariana with your bravery, ” and then three more crop strokes bit into Nolan’s flesh.
The after sting of the strokes was little, mostly, Nolan felt cold. The early afternoon breeze on his naked flesh was crisp; the glass inside him had been chilled before placement. Nolan gritted his teeth as the glass object was fastened into thin leather straps meant to hold it in place for the rest of the day. Nolan’s body temperature warmed the glass and slowly his muscles relaxed and accepted the invader.
Mind, Nolan was no anal virgin. No man his age was unless he had specifically been kept that way to bring a high price. There were markets for such virgin curiosities within the province and also in the city. Many women enjoyed the thought of a man on all fours, head low, ass high, waiting in fear of the unknown. Some women could afford to purchase the first penetration experience over and over again.
Nolan wasn’t a curiosity. He had been trained adequately to submit his ass to either a woman’s whim or a ceremonial requirement. Nolan had been taken by any number of objects of different materials over the years. He had felt the pain and at times felt the pleasure, pleasure intended or not. All of Nolan’s training, though, had been done by women. The sensations weren’t unfamiliar to him, the hands of men upon him were. It had never occurred to Nolan how different the feel would be at the rough hands of men. Unconsciously, Nolan tried to push the smooth glass object out of himself, but the object held firm in place, going nowhere.
“Because dear sweet mother of pearl would it just cock up that whole hat if a woman ever got the hots for a guy because he had a five-o-clock shadow, killer cheekbones, gnarly forearms, soft hands, a quirky sense of humor, an ass to die for, a poet’s voice, a forever gaze, a languid, hip-twisting, arm-swinging walk, a healthy attitude, a plummy cock and figgy balls that fit perfectly in her hands, a kind and confident way with people and animals, all the time in the world for her aaaannnnddd… totally similar income, work habits, and long-term benefits.”—http://www.realadultsex.com/archives/2009/03/sociobiology_and_the_nosex_class_rules_of_desire.html
Long ago, maybe before I was born, women began to forget what a naked man looked like.
I never heard what the cause was. Perhaps it was some kind of punishment. Perhaps it was a consequence of a social change, whose ramifications no one realized. But somehow, women forgot what it was like to run fingers over a bristle of hair or to take a nipple between their teeth that wasn’t attached to a breast. Only the gay men managed to remember.
Today, hardly any straight women remember what a man looks like. Instead, they get off on videos of bonobos, and no woman would ever seriously entertain the thought that a man can smell good. Only women can be good looking, they say with perfectly straight faces. Only women can be desirable.
Then, afewpeoplebegan to remember. But when they went to the internet, Google refused to give them the pictures of hot naked slave boys they craved. When they typed in “naked man tied up”, they got naked women tied up. When they typed in “naked men swimming”, they got all kinds of pictures except a single clear shot of a gorgeous ripped body shooting through the water. If they were going to be able to find what they needed to get off, they were going to have to dig.
Pretty Pictures for Mostly Straight Women is for women—bored women, kinky women, horny women, girlfriends and mothers—who want to look at sexy pictures of men of every body type. We’re reminding people what a wonderful thing a naked man can be, one picture at a time.