Old 01-26-2017, 09:59 PM   #1
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Default GetDare GameShow: Harv and Dori

Harv and Dori, Part 1

This story is edited from posts in the GetDare GameShow which was a roleplay thread in 2014. It was a TV game show with an audience and a wide range of dares that a contestant might be called to do. A key part of the thread was reporting on the dares, and this story just happened by accident. Originally in 11 separate postings, the pieces might seem a bit disjointed because they don't always show the games that put Harv into the dares, but that is not important because this is really about how he met Dori.

++++++

Having been away for a few days, I was rushing back to find a seat in the audience. I was late so I didn't go around to the front doors. This was a fateful decision.

As I came in the side door and looked around I saw a stagehand with the name 'Dori' on her name tag. With a clipboard in hand she was busily directing people and activities. Her black jeans and tight black t-shirt, with a deep-V neck, showed that she was a bit heavy to be the athletic type I like, but sort of fairly average to nice looking. I was a bit distracted as I noted to myself that it was her clear energy and competence did make her rather interesting and attractive.

"Is this the right place for the Gameshow?" I asked her.

"Oh yes," she replied quickly, leading me forward between some curtains. "Just go right out there," she added. Still a bit distracted with watching her, I stepped forward.

What! Huh? I was at the side of the stage – looking out at a contestant stripping naked in front of the biggest audience ever! This was not the way to my seat! I turned around but she was right there pushing me forward – and I heard my name being announced as the next contestant. "No! What do I do?" I asked her.

She rolled her eyes and looked away, then back to me with a tiny smirk. "First time? Just go out there to the front of the stage and take off one item of clothing. After each one, take it to the back and fold it on your pile, then go back forward and do the next item. Shoes and socks count as one so it's easy." She gave me a gentle push.

I was so stunned that I did just that. I walked out to the front – right on top of an audience that I could not see in the bright lights. I sat down on the stage and took off my shoes and socks, then got up and walked to the back of the stage carrying them. As I did so I noticed a line of naked contestants standing on the side of the stage, facing the audience. What on earth was I involved in?

I walked back out and for some reason I pulled off my jeans next, letting my long-tailed shirt cover me as I remembered that I was wearing a thong. Walking back I saw the line of naked people on the side – hardly thinking that my long sort-of-lean body was probably going to be there with them soon. Sweat starting running from under my arms and down my ribs.

I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, staring out into the glare. Once it was off I would be practically naked.

Walking to the back with the folded shirt, my bare butt was on display. Anxiety suddenly washed over me – O.M.G! I am sure that the small bulge in my thong must have shrunk with every step. O.M.G!

I turned back to walk to the front. Why wasn't I just standing still and taking my clothes off or why wasn't I just running away? What had Dori said? But the feeling – O.M.G.

As I turned to come out for the last time I could hardly breathe. Some people like doing this? O.M.G. I just came out and slid the tiny thong down my legs and picked it up and turned away. My boy bits were shriveled to nothing with – what is it that I am feeling? I reached the back panting and breathless in a cold sweat.

Dori the stage hand (Stage Manager I was to find out later) was there to guide me over to the line of naked people. "Pick a number then wait here," she said. "Hands behind your back or we'll have to secure them for you." I was too anxious to notice her tiny smirk.

"Huh?" I said. "Number 7?" And then I was standing naked in the naked line with naked people facing a huge crowd. How long would I have to wait – naked?

= = =

The game was almost finished, with contestants stripping quickly and joining the line, but it seemed like a long time standing there naked.

Then the stage crew started rolling out plastic sheets across the stage. Hoses appeared next. Huh??

Then those who had picked each number were called out in order. They were stood on the plastic and facing the audience – each with a stepladder behind them. Guys with big buckets climbed up a few steps behind each and at a signal they dumped the contents over the head of each naked contestant, and we all found out what each number meant – yuck. They all had to stand in their mush and mess and wait for everyone to get their two buckets.

When it got up to #6 those buckets had nice clean water. Those contestants were cheered by the audience. My number 7 was next, and no chance for water.

As I moved to a new spot and a ladder was placed behind me I saw that Dori was bringing the bucket for me. I had a brief look at her face and she looked determined, even grim. I wondered what would be in my bucket and why was she doing one of my buckets instead of the guys? I waited.

Sploosh!!! Eeek!!! A cold wave of liquid and ice and slush cascaded over me. It was cola! Could be worse I thought – but I would smell like coke or at least think I did for days. I stood and waited, wondering why the audience thought these quick dumpings were so much fun.

The contest was almost over, and when the last bucket was dumped. stage hands gave us hoses and sponges. Oh Oh. We had to wash off in front of the crowd! O.M.G. At least the cola was easy – much better than honey or syrup or whatever – and soon I was done. Others would be scrubbing in front of the crowd for a while.

I walked back to where I had piled my clothes. Dori was there with a funny grin on her face. "You can get dressed now," she said as she sat down to watch. "It has been a busy show today and now I can relax," she added.

Embarrassed, I turned away. "Turn and face me!" she said sharply. And somehow I did, as I slowly dressed under her intent stare.

I had an odd tingly feeling as she watched, alone and up close, the little smirk much more visible than before. The tingle rose as I tried to look back at her, finally a chance to see her face – completely plain and even and symmetric jaw and cheekbones, no standout features. Interesting. I dressed more slowly.

My shoes were tied and I looked up. I didn't know what to say. "Uh, bye," was the best I could do.

"Come back anytime," she replied, and her smirk broke into the biggest smile with the warmest eyes I had seen in years.

# # # # # #

When I came up to the front door of the DareGame studio, the attendant stepped forward: "MarvHarvey, you have to go around to the stage door. Dori said you are not allowed in the audience side."

I was puzzled, but I went around to the stage. When I went in, I could see her, standing with her back to the door. It gave me a moment to look at her: almost tall, long black hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, baggy t-shirt that I knew would be hanging out from her boobs at the front – probably the v-neck to show the deep cleavage between her boobs, and black jeans snug around her hips but baggy to her shoes. As she turned I saw the big black-framed glasses. Artsy in black, I though to myself.

"What's this about?" I asked her.

"Hi! I put your name on the list for the open-call game. In fact I have put it on the list for all the open-call games. Aren't you ready to have fun?" she added with a smirk.

"What!! Why!! Who do you think you are!!" I demanded.

"I'm the stage manager, and assistant producer, so what I say goes around here. If your name is on the list you participate or get banned." She added: "the host does what I tell him and the producer lets me run this show the way I want." A big shark-eating grin followed.

I stood speechless until she told me to move: "now go out there and do a strip show. Remember to bring each piece of clothing back here, one by one."

I walked out to the front of the stage and heard my name announced to the audience. I slowly took off my shirt. I don't know why I started with it, I just did. It was a long-sleeve t-shirt and came off quickly. I took it to the back and came out to take off my shoes. I looked out into the seats, but the drier my mouth got the less I could see. Next time out it was my pants. Down to my thong, again. As I dropped off my pants at the back, Dori called out: "flirt with the audience." I didn't know what she meant. I slowly put my thumbs into the waist elastic and pushed down – I was naked again.

I could hear laughter in the crowd. My breathing stopped as I realized that I was standing naked and limp in front of all these people. I slowly turned to walk to the back. When I could see the safety of the back in front of me, I drew in some oxygen. For some mad reason I gave my rear end a shake and wiggle as I walked – and the audience cheered.

"Don't go away," said Dori. "Best part is yet to come. Back out to the front, while I bring the clothespins."

I slowly walked back to the front. Clothespins? Did I really want to be part of the show – what if they did ban me? Did I care? But I was there and naked and way past nervous.

Dori came up with a bag of clothespins: "these are for you," she smirked. "Sit on this chair facing the audience, hands on the chair arms and legs spread apart." I obeyed her.

She began placing clothespins: one on each nipple, and they hurt; then she matter-of-factly lifted my sac and put two on the underside , I was scared shitless but they did not hurt so much; then she pinched up some skin along the inside of each thigh, and put three pins on each leg, ouch. "Almost ready,” she said.

Then she tied a piece of string onto each clothespin and backed away. 10 strings led to her hands as she backed away and handed the strings to an unseen person in the audience. The host then announced the door prize winner as being the one to pull the pins off when the time came. I could not breathe. I waited as I heard the announcement of 20 minutes starting now.

The nipples hurt most, and to my great surprise the pins on my bag hurt least. Time moved slowly. And I was naked. Do some people really get aroused doing this? After a while I was able to get my mind off the sharp pinches. I don't know how I did it, but I was in some kind of dreamland.

"Don't fall asleep," Dori said. "You are only getting going, and the climax is yet to come. Open wide." With that, she stuffed my balled-up underwear into my mouth. "We don't want you to scare anyone." But worst was that she had disturbed my dreamland – I was alert again and feeling everything. And I was thinking: how bad would it be if they thought they needed to gag me?

The pins hurt. I sat, naked, and waited.

= = =

I didn't see the signal to the string puller – the winner of the door prize.

I didn't scream, but I don't know what you would call the noise I made. I cannot describe the feeling as the pins were all pulled off, ripped off, at once. My body sprang into the air all at once and I stood gasping in front of the audience. And I was still naked.

All I can say is that they did not hurt as much as I had been fearing after Dori stuffed the underwear in my mouth.

The audience cheered, and Dori led me, in a daze, to the back of the stage. "Why do you do this?" she whispered. "Most of the people who come here get off on this crazy stuff, you just get scared. Really scared."

I had no answer. This was an odd question from the smirking Dori who seemed to take delight in torturing me. I just stood and stared, unable to even start getting dressed.

"Look," she said. "The joint in the next block has a good deal on a burger and they brew their own beer. Meet me there in an hour, after I get this place sorted out."

Stunned, I could only nod – and she smiled again with the biggest smile with the warmest eyes I had ever seen.

= = =

I went down the street and stopped to sit on a bench and gather my thoughts. What was going on?

Dori was sort of . . . no, definitely . . . interesting, but she seemed to take great delight in tormenting me. What did she want? Why was I going along?

I found the burger joint. Inside it was a warm sort of neighbourhood pub, and I found a booth along the wall. Beer sounded good, but I got a glass of water: no bill in case I made a sudden exit.

I had not been waiting more than a few minutes when it happened. A wonderful looking woman swept into the seat across from me. Long wavy black hair surrounded a warm and smiling face, topping a sleeveless white and yellow summer dress which highlighted a lean and balanced form. My jaw dropped.

I was dumbfounded until a familiar smirk replaced the smile. "Dori?" I exclaimed.

She exploded into laughter – that warm laughter I had heard before. "Yes, silly. Were you expecting someone else? Ann Marie Dorothy Jensen at your service!" With that she waved at the waiter and called out: "two reds and two burgers!"

I had to laugh with her – but the questions were written on my face. "But . . . you . . . ?"

"Hey, it's like this. I have to deal with a crazy stage crew and a rotating cast of contestants. And I have to get everyone to do what I say. So I dress like that, kind of tough like I'm a stocky blustery dame, add the fake glasses and ponytail, and act pushy. It works." We laughed together. "I'm not like those beautiful people that everyone wants to be around and can get by on looks, I have to be competent and get things done."

As she spoke I had been nodding, not in agreement but in understanding. She saw my gaze fall to her chest, her perfectly average probably-perky female chest, and busted out laughing again. "And that's the real killer – the cleavage. I have to use every trick in the book to boost my comfy little boobs to look like those monster torpedoes, but they make me look busty and pushy, and all the guys get lost looking into that black crack. It is so funny!"

She got serious, "you are the only straight guy who doesn't get lost in there, heck even the gay guys do sometimes." She looked at me with her big soft brown eyes.

We waited while our beers were served, it was a red ale, made on the premises, and it was pretty good. "Cheers!" we said together.

She was still serious, so I confessed: "I was just too scared to look. You are right about that."

"My friends call me Ann Marie."

"And somehow I liked your little smirk, even if it is nothing like your smile." And from there we were lost. It had become a date.

= = =

After eating, while we were finishing our second beer, she asked if I was going back to the game show. "It's my job, at least for now," she said. "But you seem like you don't fit in there," she added, reaching out to touch my hand.

"Maybe," I responded, "maybe I'll give it up. But it's something to do, and I guess I have a bit of an odd streak in me. I sort of like having that anxious semi-scared feeling. Out of control, not knowing . . . ."

"I can give you all of that you can handle," she smirked, taking both my hands across the table.

I held hers in return, "I would go for anything with you," I blurted. I think I must have had big puppy-dog eyes. We paused together. This was getting serious all of a sudden.

I had to break the silence. "I have one more confession. Later on I thought about using your 'Dori' cleavage in that v-neck t-shirt as a holder for a cold beer. I think one would fit just fine . . . and I bet you'd squeal!" She gasped – and we burst out laughing together again.

"Let's go for a walk," I said. And with that we got up and headed out – holding hands.

Last edited by MarvHarvey; 01-27-2017 at 09:36 PM.
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Old 01-26-2017, 10:03 PM   #2
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Default Harv and Dori, Part 2 of 3

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.

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Old 01-26-2017, 10:06 PM   #3
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Default Harv and Dori, Part 3 of 3

Harv and Dori, Part 3

Breakfast with Ann Marie was wonderful, and not just because I got back to town the night before and had stayed over at her place – she was also pretty good in the kitchen. But things got gloomier when I explained more about my new job.

"I know you have to take it, and its a good opportunity, and its good that you are the youngest deputy team leader in the company," she stated flatly. "But, I, I . . . I know it's maybe premature, but I think we should have talked before you accepted. We are just getting going with something great and it will mean more travel and time away from me." She paused and continued: "I love you Harv. I never felt like this before. I want . . . I want . . . ," and she gradually just stopped talking.

"Me too," I replied, reaching out to hold her hands. "I love you and I want to live with you and start talking about looking ahead, together."

She smiled. "Later. I am not as upset as I was, but I will have to work on it. Right now we both have to go to work. You have to get finished so you can get to the studio for showtime on Gameshow." The smirk appeared. "When I found out you took the promotion, I signed you up for Spanks a Million."

Hours later I arrived backstage. Dori was there in the usual costume with the usual smirk, but I saw something else in the clench of her jaw as she quickly herded me on stage with Female4fun to play Spanks a Million. Ominous title for the game that my darling had signed me up for. And after the last time, I thought she was telling me I should stop playing. What was in her mind?

I was snapped back to reality as the host called out the results: I had to strip for 200 spanks! But wait, there was more: "And I have a note from backstage: as a special award for one of our favourite players, these are changed to spanks to the inside of the legs while facing the audience. We get to see the smacks and the red red skin – and the facial expressions. I'm sure they will all be fabulous! So there we have it: 100 on the inside of each thigh, all hard and close together – MarvHarvey you better hold those tender bits out of the way."

The host went on: "Female4fun will spank first, but not until both contestants have stripped for us."

Great. I had to strip and then stand naked on stage waiting. So I did it one more time. Out to the front, off with clothing and take each piece to the back before going back out to do the next piece. This took time and I could feel the anxiety building. I dropped my thong and turned to the front of the stage – my long lean and naked body walking slowly to my spot on the floor – as host Reptile held out an object, flexing it between his hands.

"The nurse wants us to try something instead of wooden paddles on stage – wood might hurt someone!" Everyone laughed. "Here is our test instrument: slightly flexible plastic stick 17 inches long 2 inches wide and 3-8ths of an inch thick. Female4fun and MarvHarvey will be our testers!" And with that he passed it to me.

I held it while I waited for Female4fun, who was out on the viewing platform in front of the stage. It was as heavy as a piece of hardwood, but a tiny bit flexible. This was not good.

Now it was my turn. As I went out on the platform I saw Dori slip in and sit on the floor in front of the first row of seats. She looked up at me. There was only the smallest smirk and her jaw was set.

Everyone was looking at me as I hefted the stick. I took it in my right hand and laid it on my right thigh, just at the top inside edge of that smooth inner thigh muscle. To get it right I had to stand sort of like an ape, legs apart. I took my left hand and held my soft "tender bits" out of the way. Now or never: I drew it back and snapped it down hard – O M G that hurt. I did it again. I was gasping with surprise at the stinging pain. "Every one good and hard!" called out the host.

There was nothing to do but go for it again with a different plan. No waiting, just continuous smacks. I did 10 and threw my head back, mouth open in silent cry. I switched sides and did it on the other side – a bit more spread out with the left hand. O - M - G this hurt. And I was just starting.

10 more on each side and I was gasping and heaving with the pain in a narrow band about 4 inches wide at the top of each thigh – and it was so tender on that smooth muscle there.

20 in each set this time – line up the spot and then snap that springy stick fast and hard. 40 done 60 to go – on each side.

I realized there were tears on my face and all I could do was go on. During the next set of 20 on each side I was shaking and my aim was a bit off, so the red patches spread, even as the colour deepened at the top.

60 done. My legs were quivering. I was moaning with every breath. I had to go on.

I clenched my teeth and did 20 more on each side. I somehow drove my arm hard hard hard hard . . . . 80 done and I was falling to my knees with the pain. As I was down there I noticed the audience and I was mortified at humiliating myself in front of them. Almost subconsciously I made eye contact with Dori and saw that her smirk mostly faded away. Crying, I got up in my ape position to continue.

Somehow I found the will – but sets of 10 were all I could do. Right and left was 90 done. Legs quivering, knees almost unable to hold me up.

"Close together for the finale!" called out the host. 10 on the right, the arm didn't belong to me. Somehow 10 all on the top 2 inches of deep red thigh. My hands could hardly hold the stick as I passed it to my left hand to finish. I made the arm start and it did 15 before I could stop it – 5 extra???

I was shaking and crying on my hands and knees in front of the audience, while they cheered. Through my tears, Dori was nowhere to be seen.

Eventually the stage hands helped me up and guided me backstage. These were the same guys as before and they grabbed my buns so hard it hurt, but the pain was not as important as the effect it had on my ability to walk. It was humiliating to be half carried like this – but by this time I did not care.

By the time I got dressed, Dori appeared. She barely looked at me: her eyes looked a bit odd and I could not see her face well as she whispered "beer and a burger" before turning away.

I limped down the street to our restaurant, to wait. The regular bartender was there so I asked him: "Hey! It's good to be back! Look, I pulled a groin muscle while I was away, can I have a big bag of ice, please?"

# # # # # #

Ann Marie and I sat in her living room, snuggled as close as we could be. It had been a couple of weeks since I appeared on the Gameshow, the night she cried in her beer when we met at "our" little restaurant for burgers after the show.

Ann Marie had been so sorry for her "Dori" side setting me up to give myself such a humiliating thigh spanking in front of the audience that even after we went home to her place she clung to my arms all night. I cried too – partly for the pain and humiliation I had suffered, but mostly because she was so upset. I loved her no matter what.

Tonight she was ready to talk about it again. We had to. There were changes coming in our lives and we had to figure things out if we wanted to stay together. "So you are getting another promotion, or something, in a less than a month?" she asked.

"Yup," I said. "I can hardly believe it. I the most junior assistant team leader when the leader got sick and left me to work with a tough and hard-nosed client. But when the company said they would send someone senior, the client's Vice President said: 'Ah met wit' the young lad an' he has got a good grip on what he is doin' for us. Let 'im be and I'll give you a call if we need sompthin' more.' And they had never had anything that good from this cranky client before except checks that didn't bounce, so they left me. When we got it done, he sent a letter of recommendation and a request that I be assigned to all our work for his company." I paused.

"Now, they want to give me advanced training – as long as I look after that one client – and will even pay for me to get my next degree and more qualifications. This is a dream and I can't refuse." I paused and blundered on: "Ann Marie I love you. I have to do this, but I want to keep building our life together. We have to make it work. I love you."

"Me too," she said, with soft tears in her eyes. "I also got news this week. The Network is so pleased with my work on this show – despite the two great hosts, the rest of it is very sketchy – that they want me to take on a bigger job: either stage manager of a really big and popular game show, or managing producer of a new one they are trying out. I get to look the shows over and discuss it with them. This is big for me too." She stopped and looked down. "But . . . ."

I spoke to her silence: "Your Dori side was angry and punished me. That's OK. I need that sometimes. It settles me. You know that. In fact it helped me push myself in other things too – and at work – maybe it even helped me be calm with that client. It is me and it is you. Let's be us."

"Yes. I do know that. But if I put Dori away, if there is no Gameshow, can you accept it if I do it? If the real me does it?"

"Yes, Ann Marie, I can and I will. There is no one I would rather have taking control of me."

She grinned: "so maybe it will be better if I do it instead of the stage crew? I certainly like the idea of having you all to myself."

We took a long pause and held each other tight.

"So where will you move to?" I asked.

""Not sure," she said. "But lets look at where you can live for your training – you travel to projects so much that the place might not matter. Then I can look at where my choices are, and we'll find a place."

We smiled at each other and held hands. We put our foreheads together, sighed, and sat up.

I spoke first: "Ann Marie, you know that I need you and want you, and sometimes I need a bit of Dori-Marie too. When you see that, you do what you think is right. It will be. I need to be pushed out of my shell and punished in different ways and humiliated and whatever. And you like to do it. It's not the usual white picket fence, but it is us, so lets share a life together."

++++++

The story is complete.
I am just writing to thank all those who read it in the original form, and who read it again in this final edited version. This was a lot of fun to write, coming spontaneously from playing the dares of GetDare GameShow and writing reports as requested by the game. I liked writing the detailed reports, like I do for PM dares, and reliving the feelings of each dare. But they developed spontaneously into a story and characters in the game, and the story went on and the characters made their own way. There was no plan or plot, it just developed. Dori was a real surprise, but she just sort of pushed herself into the story.
Thanks for reading.

MarvHarvey

Last edited by MarvHarvey; 01-27-2017 at 09:34 PM.
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