Obey immediately without a word

The fabric of your shirt feels suddenly heavy against your skin as Dana’s words hang in the crisp mountain air. Without a single word of protest, your hands move to the top button.

Dana’s jade-green eyes flare with immediate, dark satisfaction at your instant compliance. She takes a deliberate step backward, leaning her hips against the heavy wooden edge of the coffee bar, crossing her arms to enjoy the spectacle.

The silence in the lodge is absolute, save for the rhythmic pop and crackle of the cedar logs in the fire.

You undo the first button. Then the second. Your fingers are steady, but the cool air of the lodge immediately hits your chest, sending a sharp prickle of goosebumps across your skin. You peel the shirt off your shoulders and drop it onto the stools behind the counter.

A collective, sharp shift in energy ripples through the room.

Vicky’s analytical ice-blue eyes track the movement of your shoulders, her jaw tightening almost imperceptibly as she observes the raw physical reality of Dana’s total control over you.

Maya lets out a low, breathy whistle, a thoroughly amused, uninhibited grin spreading across her face. She shifts her weight, leaning forward over the counter to get an uninterrupted view, her dark eyes wide with chaotic delight.

To your left, Heather looks as if she might faint. Her cheeks are a deep, burning crimson. She stares fixedly at the floorboards, then her hazel eyes helplessly dart up to your bare torso, her chest heaving with a sudden, anxious respiration before she hides her face behind her hands again, utterly overwhelmed by the proximity of a mature, built man stripping on command.

But it’s Lauren who holds your attention. Standing right in the center, your wife looks completely transfixed. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth, her blue eyes wide, tracking the dark hair on your chest. She’s breathing heavily through her nose, completely torn between the intense modesty of seeing her husband exposed to these strangers and the intoxicating, submissive thrill of Dana’s absolute dominance over the both of you.

Your hands drop to your belt. The metallic clink of the buckle echoes loudly in the quiet room. You undo the leather, unzip your trousers, and push them down your thighs.

“Step out from behind the bar, Mark,” Dana instructs softly, her voice a low, smoky purr that brooks no argument. “Let the class see the full effect of vulnerability. Don’t hide behind the woodwork.”

You step out into the open space near the hearth, kicking the trousers aside until you are standing before the five women in nothing but your underwear. The ache in your groin is a tight, throbbing pressure against the fabric, completely visible to everyone in the room.

Dana walks over, her bare feet making no sound on the hardwood. She circles you slowly, like a predator inspecting a prize. She stops right in front of you, looking down at the final barrier of fabric, then locks her piercing gaze onto yours.

“All of it,” Dana whispers, her jasmine scent washing over you. “Leave nothing to hide behind.”

You hook your thumbs into the waistband and pull them down, stepping out of them completely.

You stand entirely naked in the center of the main lodge, completely exposed to your wife and four staring women. Your body is rigid, the cool air biting at your skin, your arousal fully on display, fueled by the sheer weight of their collective gazes.

“Look at him, girls,” Dana commands, turning to the trainees, her hand gesturing toward your frame. “Notice the tension. Notice how the ego tries to protect itself even when the body is completely bare. Lauren, look at your husband. This is what total transparency looks like.”

Lauren lets out a soft, whimpering gasp, her face utterly flushed, her eyes locked onto your rigid length with a raw, **** heat. Vicky is staring openly now, her professional detachment entirely cracking into a heavy, intense trance. Maya is practically buzzing with excitement, while Heather is trembling, her eyes darting wildly over your bare thighs and chest.

Dana turns back to you, her fingers gently brushing against your chin, forcing you to look at her. “Now, Mark. It’s time for breakfast. Go to the kitchen, prepare the fruit and parfaits, and serve the ladies.” Then reaching her hand out she taps the head of your rigid member before adding, “And remember... not a single touch.”