Win or Lose 3-Impalement

My wife had given me another check from Linda and, almost in passing, told me that I had another shoot in a couple of weeks. She also told me to really watch what I ate and work out since I was going to be the entertainment for a party for some ladies. That had sounded very promising at the time.
So there I was kneeling in a closet listening to the occasional murmur of voices and sounds of movement outside the door. My wife had had me wash thoroughly and shave all my body hair before we had left home. Once we arrived at Linda’s house my wrists were bound in front of me by the two women and I was taken to the closet. There was a large very ordinary looking family room (at least from what I saw when I went through it on my way through) just the other side of the door. At one point, Linda and Jean opened the door and added a black leather hood with an attached ball gag to my outfit. Shoving the ball gag into my mouth they had giggled and left me again.
Finally the door opened and my wife grabbed my bound wrists and pulled me out to join the party. At first glance it looked like a rather run-of-the-mill looking party. There were wine bottles and plates of snacks on a table and the six women now staring at me all looked like folks you’d see in your neighborhood, dressed casually with wine glasses in their hands. There were some odd notes. For one thing all of the women were wearing decorative masks. Then there was the guy, also masked, pointing a video camera at me and the other video cameras scattered around the room. After a few moments, I realized that the guy’s video camera was sending its pictures to the large flatscreen on the wall. That meant that I could watch myself on TV or in the mirrors along one wall as I was led through them.
Then there was the bar hanging from a cable that went through a pulley on the ceiling and was attached to a small hand-operated winch on the wall. The bar was hung in the center of the room and had leather cuffs on each end. That was where my wife took me.
Linda used the winch to lower the bar in front of me. Jean fastened one cuff to my right wrist before untying me. Then she put the other cuff on my left wrist and gave a thumbs up. The winch cranked again and the bar slowly rose toward the ceiling, taking my wrists with it, stopping once my hands were just above my head. The bar was long enough that my hands were about a foot outside my shoulders. Jean reached up and guided the bar between four posts extending from the ceiling. A few more turns of the winch and my shoulders and arms were fixed in place.
The other four women stood watching me with expectant looks on their faces, occasionally whispering something to each other and giggling. Embarrassed I looked around the room some more, noticing for the first time a table with a black cloth over it and a black sheet draped over something oddly shaped next to that table. Linda lifted the cloth from the table, revealing a neat row of boxes of various sizes. From one she removed a two foot long bar with cuffs on either end. She and my wife knelt down, cuffed that to my legs and slid two bolts into unobtrusive holes in the floor.
“OK ladies,” she said, returning to the table. “Let’s have some fun. Who wants to cut off his shirt?”
All four of the others raised their hands enthusiastically, clamoring for the chance. Linda picked a petite brunette and handed her a large pair of scissors. Giggling nervously, she used the scissors to cut my t-shirt into small pieces, while I shivered at the touch of the cold steel. Then she grabbed the shredded garment and ripped it the rest of the way off while her associates voiced their approval.
Linda selected a well-rounded blonde and pointed at my shorts. This one carefully cut the shorts up both legs to the waistband, then cut that material away from the waistband before cutting that and letting it fall off. The giggles grew as Linda handed the scissors to a tall girl with long reddish hair.
I really shivered this time as she slid the steel under my briefs and slowly started cutting them away. When she cut enough material away, my semi erect cock pushed through a gap, much to the amusement of the ladies. Then she cut the waistband and I was naked except for my hood. The women giggled and walked around me, commenting on my physique, while the hooded cameraman hovered around recording it all. The lingering closeups of my ass and cock that appeared on the TV in front of me made me even more uncomfortable. I learned later that all the women knew each other in some fashion but no one other than Linda knew I was Jean’s husband.
“You do the honors,” Linda said, handing my wife a thin leather strap with silver snaps.