[MarvHarvey]

Harv and Dori, Part 2

I came in through the backstage area, and was directed to Dori, busy running the show as usual. Looking at her from even a few feet away, I immediately fell under the influence of the no-nonsense "Dori" personality. There was no sign even to me of the Ann Marie I was spending all my free time with. "Hello Dori," I said. For almost the first time I looked into the darkness of her cleavage. The image worked.

"Back in town from that trip? It's about time," she said. "You missed out on the excitement here. We got a new host. It was a bit unexpected and I was too late signing you up for a category punishment – I wanted to see you get a spanking on stage! I still would if I could, I will when I can. But I did sign you up for blackjack, and you lost – boy oh boy did you lose."

"Dori, what have you got me in for now?"

"You have won 35 minutes corner time, blindfolded. Oh, and naked of course." The Dori-smirk was there, with a bit of extra laughter hiding in her eyes.

"Of course," I replied. My stomach churned. I had come back voluntarily. Two weeks away for work might have been the chance to get away from the show, but I came back. And now I was nervous. I worked my dry mouth but it stayed dry.

She continued with more good news: "You can sit here for a while to think it over and wait your turn on stage."

So I waited, for about an hour, until she called me up. At least she called me herself instead of sending a stage hand.

It was the usual strip. I walked out to the middle of the stage, and took off my shirt and shoes before carrying them to the back of the stage, and going out front again. This time I hopped around on one foot while I peeled off my jeans. This left me in a thong – my new girlfriend Ann Marie liked me wearing tight spandex thongs, so I was packed into a tight and tiny thong as I took my jeans to the back and took the long walk back to the edge of the stage and the audience. My breath caught and my guts turned over. Ok – off with the thong and carry it to the back. Walk out to the front again and do not look at the audience. But this time Dori had the house lights up so I could see them – much harder than if they were invisible in the glare.

A pair of stage hands came over with Dori. "Hands at your sides," she smirked. The host strapped a blindfold around my face. Then the hands, a big heavy-set guy and his partner – a stocky iron-pumper, took me by the arms.

The host announced my fate to the audience. It was break-time for the show, 45 minutes until they resumed, and I was to do my corner time in the lobby where refreshments were served. I was ready to throw up with anxiety. Little did I know that the worst was yet to come.

As they walked me across the stage, I felt each of the guys grab a butt cheek! The audience laughed. Suddenly each guy started squeezing my glute in his hand, and these guys had strong hands. They rolled and kneaded hard and it hurt deep in the muscles – I could hardly move. The audience roared.

They stopped squeezing and let me walk to the lobby where they led me to a corner. I was turned into it when I heard Dori's voice: "turn him to face the room, and back him into the corner. You, you keep your hands at your sides until they come back to return you to the stage."

O - M - G. I was naked and facing the milling crowd. All I can say is that it was not a large space, and I could hear and sense them around me. Sometimes there were whispers. They had to be close. I have had corner time for 60 minutes, but this 35 minutes seemed five times as long. I was dizzy with anxious nausea. Somehow I didn't throw up my lunch, but cold sweat ran down my ribs.

Then the audience trickled back to the studio, and my "pals" with the strong fingers came to fetch me and take me back. Again the squeezing – boy it hurt. Back in front of a laughing audience, the host removed the blindfold and called for a cheer. I just turned and walked off to get my clothes.

"I keep asking why you do this," Dori said, shaking her head. "Until you decide to stay away, I will use you for a good show. They love your nervousness and discomfort, so I will sign you up for every open call event."

I was unable to speak, but she lifted her glasses for a moment and Ann Marie gave me a wink. "Beer and a burger," she whispered. I gave a teeny tiny smile and turned to go down the street and wait for her.

# # # # # #

Work had taken me away for a week of long hours with limited internet contact so Ann Marie had not heard from me other than a few rushed phone calls. We had not been dating (it sure seemed like more than just dating) for long and I was not sure how she would act when she saw me. I was tired but I went direct to the studio to see her as soon as I got home. Of course there I would see "Dori" and I really really did not know what to expect.

There she was – same as always. Severe pony tail and black-framed glasses, deep-v tee-shirt with huge cleavage to stare into . . . I looked more now that I knew it wasn't real than I had before. "You!" she called out. "You have been signed up for a shower challenge."

"Huh? What?" I responded cleverly.

"You were away so long I signed you up for a shower challenge. You're on in 30 minutes – so get ready for a cold shower in front of a live and hilarious audience." With that she returned to directing activity back stage. She was the stage manager and had set me up – and not for the first time.

When I was announced I strode to the front of the stage. I was trying as hard as I could to appear bold and confident, and move quickly.

It didn't really work. Dori insisted I strip one article of clothing at a time, and take each back to a pile at the rear. This kept me walking up and down stage as I got naked, and the anxiety grew quickly once I got to my underwear – the tight spandex thong that my girlfriend Ann Marie insisted I wear. I was not helped by seeing the big glass shower box sitting there, waiting for me. Slowly I walked back to the front, and took it off. I wasn't showing off very much. I am long and lean, semi-muscular, but the newly uncovered bits were too drooping and shrivelled to swing much as I walked back to the front.

The host escorted me into the shower box: "you have to curl up in a ball, lay down on your side, with your hands on your head. You won't know how much time is left – but if you quit there will be a penalty for every minute less than - - 20!"

I laid down on the cold hard floor – even though it was on wheels, the glass shower had a cold tile floor. I got into position and before I could brace myself for the shock, the water started. It was a shock, but not as much as I had worked myself up to be afraid of. OK, I said, I can do this.

That bravado lasted for a few seconds – a minute at most. This was cold and getting colder. In my misery, I saw a commotion outside.

"Hey! That man isn't moving! Is he OK?" demanded a portly older woman in medical scrubs. "I am the nurse the network hired to keep an eye on safety around here and I demand you stop this so I can check on him!"

Dori rushed out to block her from the water controls, as the stagehand in charge retreated from the impressively bossy nurse. "What do you mean – he's fine," Dori said.

"Then let me see him moving – or I shut you down."

"You in there, get up. You have to move around – so move lots and make sure the shower gets you all over," said Dori. "Dance or exercise in there."

I was happy to comply – moving helped, even if it got more of me under the spray. Time passed slowly, and I got colder. I really needed to move, and I did. The heavy spray was cold. I was cold.

"I can see him shivering hard – he might be hypothermic. Make him show that he still has motor control," said the nurse.

"You there – do some coordinated exercise – 10 reps of everything that stagehand does," said Dori, pointing at one of the hands.

I realized that I was shivering so hard that I could hardly do the movements. This didn't really hurt, but it did. It was more of a whole-body vibration and semi-numbness. I did each move I was shown, but I couldn't feel all my fingers. How much longer?

"Are you stopping soon?" asked the nurse. "I think he is at his limit."

"One more minute," replied Dori. "Twenty minutes total."

And a moment later, the water was shut off. The happy host took me out and showed me off to the audience, joking all the time. I was shivering and covered with goosebumps, my arms and legs would barely respond. When he turned me to the rear I was happy to go, and shuffled away.

As I dressed, still shivering, Dori told me what been happening outside the shower. I had to tell her that the nurse was right – I was cold and getting dysfunctional. My skin was feeling a burning sensation as some tiny bit warmth returned to it.

Dori lifted her glasses and Ann Marie winked at me: "beer and a burger." All I could do was nod, and head for the bar down the street to wait.

I asked the bartender for a large cup of hot chocolate. When I asked for a shot of something in it to help warm me up, he suggested brandy.

# # # # # #

After breakfast at Ann Marie's this morning she was leaving for the studio and dropped an unsettling remark. "Lot's of fun on the show today, and I signed you up for something that would make you sick to your stomach for the whole day if you knew what it was. So be there on time." She was not in Dori-mode for the show yet, so this was very unusual.

I arrived backstage and reported to Dori. "Get out there. The host will fill you in – after you strip for everyone." My stomach had been queasy all day – as she knew it would be – and this did not help.

So I did it as before: go out to the front, close to the audience, to remove each piece of clothing. Then back to the rear to make a pile of clothes, and walk back for the next. I cheated a bit by doing my shirt with my shoes and socks, just so it would not all take so long. The walk out wearing just my spandex thong, then taking it to the rear and walking out naked, would be long enough. I am afraid it was not a very interesting view, interesting bits all shrivelled with anxiety and while I am lean and a bit muscular, it is not much to look at.

The host was giving the audience a bit of patter as I did it – that was new – but I tried to close my ears. Then he called me out to the front, and up on one of a pair of little raised platforms that actually stuck out in front of the stage a bit.

"There you are! Now hands on head and stand with your feet apart while I explain the game to you." Still not much for anyone to see, but clearly I was on display while he explained it, although I am not sure I understood it all. I was beginning to react to the tension and anxiety – I was no longer shrivelled at all and this was a surprise to me. I knew I needed this anxious uncertainty, but arousal from it was new.

"Now you will stay right there and give us a big edge, we want to see it clear and 'rock'-ing (if you get my drift - ha ha) until I tell you to stop. If you fail to stop, the game show consequences will be severe. So stop when I say."

O-M-G! I was scared stiff – and stiff I was. O-M-G!

I wrapped my hand around my shaft and slowly started pulling back and forth. The slow peeling and unpeeling heightened my hardness, until suddenly the house lights went up and I noticed everyone watching. My breath stopped. My erection fell to about half way.

I closed my eyes and kept on going. Faster and harder, my other hand rubbing across my body. My knees bent and I suddenly felt some kind of unconscious understanding of the arousal and anxiety link. OMG yes OMG yes OMG yes.

"STOP" bellowed the host. And I obeyed in some shock. Not sure why I did.

"OK!" he said. "That was great. Now resume the position – that's it, hands on head. The stagehand has a bag of crushed ice here to cool you down and as soon as you are cooled I will draw your card."

I gasped as a guy with big hands held a double handful of ice against my steaming erection and balls. Then I stood and waited.

= = =

Despite the chill in my balls, I was still a bit high from the discovery that nauseating anxiety and embarrassment turned me on. I heard the host's voice in the distance. I had to orgasm – in front of all these people – without any hand contact. Huh?

I looked around for something – what might it be? That stagehand over there, in the wings, the guy with the electrical cord – what was he carrying in his tool belt? I knew that I had to act while I was still a bit high. If I came down, I might never ever ever do this.

I ran over to him, my parts flapping like never before as I recovered some feeling of elation. He had the heavy cord in his hands, but a lighter cord hung from his tool belt – could I tie that around my bits and do something? No? What about his leather work gloves? Hmm.

I took the cord and the gloves, even though I didn't know what I would do, and ran back to my exposed perch. The audience was tittering at me – good – that felt awful but I loved it. Quickly I wrapped the cord around the base of my cock and balls, that would keep the stimulation up while I thought – even as I knew that to think was to fail. I had to act.

The beginnings of arousal were fading. I was going to fail. No! I tossed my head back and looked at the back of the hall. There was Dori looking down from above and behind the audience.

I couldn't wait to think, so I put a glove on, using the thumb like a big condom. I grabbed it and started pumping slowly. The audience cheered. I was dizzy with nausea and arousal and humiliation.

Slowly I got harder under the dirty old glove, even as grease on the outside smeared my hand and body. But it was not enough.

I kept pumping and I got harder. The audience cheering turned to laughter, because they could not see the success I was having under the glove. But I thought about failure. This was awful to be doing this.

I slipped back.

I closed my eyes and pumped.

I thought about Ann Marie in the morning light. Yes!

I was getting somewhere.

I still had part of the cord trailing around my feet, and I suddenly grabbed it and wrapped it around my balls – tight. I pulled on it.

I was getting nowhere.

I looked up to the back, and Dori was still there. She gave me that little smirk, and backed away.

I knew that was it. The smirk. I loved the smirk almost as much as I loved Ann Marie.

I kept my eyes closed and pulled on the cord with one hand while pumping the glove with the other. The smirk was all I could see in my mind.

I went faster and then suddenly I was there – I was pumping into the glove and my knees were bending and I was gasping and I was done. The audience cheered and stomped. The host pulled me up by one arm: "the champ!" he said.

I went back stage and sat on the bench to get dressed. Dori came over. "I knew you would find that about yourself. I knew from the first time I saw you."

"I don't know what it means," I replied.

"It doesn't mean anything," she said. "It just means that you have discovered something important about the little demons that drive you – and now you can control them better. That's important to me," she added. She looked at me with big soft eyes – taking off the “Dori-glasses" as she did so.

"Beer and a burger," we smiled together, and I got dressed and went down the street to wait for Ann Marie.