Zeek’s Femdom Adventure 8: Nude Model, Bound in Submission

In August 2024, Annie had to leave town for just two days on business, and once again she enlisted help from one of the Dommes at the magazine to craft a new challenge for me. This time, it was Miss Autumn’s turn to unleash her devious imagination and take the reins in humiliating me.

Now, let me just say this—I’m terrified of Miss Autumn. She’s young, she’s hot, and she wields way more power than anyone her age should rightfully have. I haven’t had much direct interaction with her yet, and we’ve never even met in person, but her reputation alone is enough to send shivers down my spine. To give you some context, Miss Autumn was recently the one who rated my dick publicly, and if you haven’t read that story yet, do yourself a favor and check it out—it paints a pretty clear picture of what it’s like to have her as your Domme. Spoiler: it’s both humiliating and terrifying.

So, you can imagine the sinking feeling I had when I discovered that Annie had enlisted Miss Autumn to help design this challenge. I knew I was in for something special—and by special, I mean sadistic. Sure enough, she brought just a taste of her clever cruelty into the mix, helping Annie craft what would become one of the most humiliating experiences I’ve faced yet.

My Challenge: Arrive at 9pm

Basically, my instructions were simple: be at a specific address by 9pm. The location turned out to be a house in a part of town near Portland State University, an area known for its rental housing, popular with college students. Based on the crowd milling around and the general vibe of the place, I could tell this wasn’t some upscale neighborhood—it was party central for the local student population. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of intrigue and dread creeping up my spine.

When the door finally opened, I was greeted by a woman who introduced herself as Sally. She had her phone in hand, and sure enough, there was Annie on Facetime, smiling smugly at me. So, I knew I was in the right place.

Sally wasted no time bringing me inside. The atmosphere immediately hit me—this wasn’t just some casual get-together. She led me to the living room, where the furniture had been arranged in a deliberate circle, almost ritualistic, with several people already seated. They were positioned in such a way that every single one of them had a clear view of the middle of the room. It was obvious something was about to go down, and I had a feeling I was going to be at the center of it.

Uh oh.

Annie’s voice came through the phone, calm but with that familiar edge of excitement. She explained that Autumn had used her connections at the university to set up a “special art session” for me. Sally, it turned out, wasn’t just some random woman—she was an art teacher. And the people seated around the room? Student artists, each holding either a sketchpad or some sort of graphic tablet.

Crap.

Annie didn’t hold back as she delivered the news. I was to be the model for the evening, and the theme of the project was “naked submission.”

Fuck.

Sally handed me a few items—a collar and a set of handcuffs. Before I could even process what was happening, Annie started explaining the next steps. I was to strip down, put on the collar and cuffs, and they’d help attach me to a hook in the ceiling. That’s when I noticed the small chain hanging from an eyebolt. What the hell? Oh yeah, college housing—makes sense, I guess.

Shit.

I realized there was no backing out. With Annie and Miss Autumn pulling the strings, I had no choice but to go through with it. So, I trudged over to the kitchen and began to strip. One piece of clothing at a time, until I was completely naked. My heart was pounding, and every fiber of my being was screaming for me to stop, but I knew there was no escape.

Collar on, cuffs in place, I took a deep breath and stepped out into the living room. Full monty. Fully exposed. And I just silently begged my dick to behave. Every pair of eyes was on me, and I felt like I was shrinking under the weight of their gaze.

Once I stepped out there, Sally called out to someone named AJ to come and connect me to the chain. When AJ stood up, I realized he was the only guy in the room. Great. Of course, it had to be a dude stringing me up in front of everyone. He didn’t say much, just walked over, got to work, and hooked the chain to my cuffs without making much eye contact. His hands were steady, but it was obvious he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Exposed and Bound

Within moments, my arms were pulled up above me, cuffed and attached to the chain, leaving me fully exposed in front of all the eyes in the room.

I gave the cuffs a little test, tugging gently, and realized that while I could probably break free if I really tried, it would take effort, and there was no way it would go unnoticed. I was stuck—completely vulnerable, hanging there with all these people watching me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Here’s the thing—Annie was re-creating a moment from our younger days, back when we were living in a crappy little apartment together. She’d been getting into tying me up, and one day she had me install some eyebolts in the wall (yeah, we definitely lost that security deposit). She’d use them to tie me up in all sorts of positions.

So, one Saturday, she had me tied up naked—arms cuffed above my head—and was teasing me when there was a knock on the door. She let in one of her friends from school, and to my shock, her friend was there to take photos of me for a class project. It was mostly close-up shots, but the girls made sure I was hard for the pictures. So, somewhere out there, there’s a 90s college photography class project of me, naked and very exposed. Annie kept one of the images and even used it to create a piece of artwork, which I still use as my profile pic here at the magazine.

So this new art session brought all those feelings back—my positioning, vulnerability, and helplessness were the same. Thankfully, Annie arranged for this to be a drawing project, not a photography one—no one needs to see any pictures of this!

Hey, it was Cold in the room…

This whole situation was a nightmare, and my cock wasn’t exactly cooperating. The room was cold, and let’s just say I wasn’t performing. Annie and Sally were casually talking about my shrinking situation, making fun of my “teenie weenie” like it was some inside joke. And all of this? Happening on Facetime, with the group of artists right there, sketchpads in hand, like I was some kind of exhibit. They didn’t even acknowledge me—like I wasn’t even in the room.

Then Annie, in her usual matter-of-fact tone, said that it’d be better for the drawings if I had an erection. Of course, Sally agreed, and then, as if this whole scene wasn’t humiliating enough, they asked for a volunteer to “fluff” me. You can imagine my face—it must have been beet red by that point, mortified beyond belief.

I watched as Tad, the only guy in the room, raised his hand. My stomach dropped. There had to be a reason he was there, and now it was painfully clear. But just as I was about to panic, Sally saved me, turning to another female named Cindy. I was beyond relieved.

I got Fluffed

Cindy was called over to “fluff” me, and honestly, I didn’t know how to feel—terrified, humiliated, and strangely excited all at once. She walked over, casually as if this was just another part of the art session. She grabbed hold of my limp cock and started stroking, her grip firm but controlled, like she knew exactly what she was doing. My face burned with embarrassment as I stood there, cuffed, my arms stretched above me, with everyone watching her work her magic on me.

It took a little while, but slowly, my cock started to react. I’ve always been more of a grower than a shower, so it wasn’t until a few minutes in that I started getting fully hard. The whole room was watching as my cock swelled in her hand, and when I finally reached full mast, there was no mistaking the shift in attention. The artists started sketching and drawing more furiously, capturing every detail of my “fluffed” state. It was mortifying but also strangely thrilling.

Of course, this didn’t last forever. After a while, the cold room and sheer nerves got the better of me, and I started to go soft again. Annie, still on Facetime, commented, “Looks like we need another round.” Cindy sighed, clearly amused, and came back to “re-fluff” me. This time, she wasn’t messing around. She grabbed my cock again, stroking with more intensity. But I guess my mind was getting in the way, and it wasn’t working as quickly this time. Then, without warning, she slipped a finger into my ass.

The shock of it made me gasp, and immediately, my body reacted. My cock surged back to full hardness, rock solid. I wasn’t expecting it, but that finger inside me was the push I needed, and I was back to being fully erect in no time. The artists didn’t miss a beat, their pencils flying across their pads as Cindy pulled her finger out and patted me on the cheek with a little smirk before stepping back, leaving me utterly humiliated but undeniably hard.

A Humiliation Beyond Words

This was, without a doubt, one of the most humiliating experiences I’ve ever gone through. Being completely exposed and at the mercy of everyone in that room, with Cindy literally “fluffing” me in front of a crowd of artists, was something I won’t soon forget.

Out of the 7 people who were there drawing, I’ve actually managed to get my hands on 4 of the images, and I now have the rights to share them here. Each one captures different my submission in a very awkward, yet “enthusiastic” moment.