Pillory Park
A tale of transgression and atonement, wherein justice becomes spectacle, and redemption is gained through public punishment and sexual humiliation of males, beneath the unflinching gaze of a matriarchal world.
A satirical erotic fantasy in four chapters, for adult masturbators.
by Richard Lovel – Copyright 2025 – All rights reserved
Chapter 1: A Walk in the Park
In the morning sunlight, a woman in her mid-40s walked through Pillory Park. Her appearance leaned more towards comfort than elegance, and her neatly greying brown hair was tied up in a practical bun. The emblematic pillory pin on her slate-gray attire signified her esteemed position as Senior Pillory Matron. Gladys Reever derived immense satisfaction from her role at the Department of Male Correction & Recreation. She began each day with inspections of the park’s activity zones, where male sexuality was harmonized with the principles of a female-led society.
The Penis Petting Zoo, a favored destination in the park, was bustling even in the early hours. Female visitors, some dressed in business attire and others obviously college students, meandered from cage to cage. Within each enclosure, adult males stood nude and restrained, their hands secured in ergonomic cuffs behind their backs, ensuring they couldn’t touch their own genitals. Gladys observed with satisfaction the recent enhancements to the containment systems—smooth edges at all touchpoints, improved drainage systems beneath each genital access port, and a newly applied antimicrobial coating on all interaction surfaces. The men pressed their hips against the bars, their naked male organs protruding through the access points in hopeful offering to visitors. Informational placards beside each enclosure provided details on permitted contact parameters and behavioral objectives.
“It’s a fine morning for pettin’ a penis, dontcha know,” Gladys remarked to an attendant walking by. The number of women nearly equaled that of the men in the enclosures. Only a few unfortunate men remained overlooked, wagging their lonely members back and forth in a desperate attempt to gain the attention of the female visitors.
Gladys observed the various techniques employed by the female visitors. A middle-aged woman in business attire methodically applied firm pressure to her subject’s testicles—her touch neither too gentle nor needlessly harsh, but perfectly calibrated to evoke submission without inflicting undue pain. Maintaining unwavering eye contact, she commanded his focus entirely, compelling his surrender through a silent exchange of dominance.
Nearby, a more youthful exuberance was at play—a boisterous ensemble of college students congregated around their chosen subject like mischievous children. They squealed ant tittered with a kind of joyous innocence belied by their actions; they took turns flicking at the protruding flaccid shaft with their finger tips. Each flick was met with muted anticipation and girlish giggles as their subject’s penis flipped back and forth. Their shared mirth contrasted with the singular intensity etched upon their subject’s face.
A soft buzzer sounded from one of the monitoring stations—an alert for approaching ejaculation. Her attention was drawn to a young woman in her twenties who appeared to be struggling. The subject in her care—a man perhaps in his early thirties with a flush spreading across his chest and neck—showed all the physiological indicators of imminent climax. His testicles had visibly tightened against his body, his breathing had grown rapid and shallow, and his eyes had taken on the unfocused glaze of arousal-induced disassociation. Yet the woman’s grip, while enthusiastic, lacked the technical precision necessary for proper edging protocol.
Gladys paused, recognizing a teaching opportunity. Helping women develop penis-handling skills was part of the park’s mission. “Honey,” she called out, approaching with a warm, maternal smile that belied the clinical assessment happening behind her eyes. “You’re gripping too tight at the base. That’s cutting off circulation, but it won’t stop the squirtin’.”
The young woman looked up, momentarily startled but clearly eager for instruction. “I’m trying to stop him from finishing,” she explained, maintaining her grip while the male subject groaned in frustrated need.
“Let me show you,” Gladys offered, positioning herself beside the visitor. “See, you want to let the blood flow up but pinch just under the head when he gets close.” She demonstrated the motion in the air with practiced fingers. “They think you’re gonna let ‘em pop, but then you don’t. Makes ’em leak without the satisfaction. It’s all about frustration and denial.”
The woman adjusted her technique accordingly, loosening her grip at the base while preparing her other hand to apply targeted pressure beneath the glans when necessary. The man’s breathing hitched—a telltale sign recognized by Gladys’s experienced ear.
“Now,” Gladys instructed, “light, circular thumb motion… then when you feel that first pulse—there it is—pinch right there and release the shaft.”
The subject’s body tensed, his pelvic muscles contracting involuntarily as the first ejaculatory spasm began. The woman followed Gladys’s instruction perfectly, applying precise pressure at the critical moment before releasing her grip entirely. The man groaned—a sound of profound frustration that echoed through the facility—as his orgasm was effectively ruined. Clear fluid dripped ineffectually from his penis, the powerful contractions expending themselves without the accompanying pleasure.
“Perfect execution,” Gladys nodded approvingly. “See how he’s still hard? That’s because you’ve triggered the ejaculation reflex without allowing the satisfaction feedback loop to complete.” She pointed to the collection tray beneath the man, where the meager results of his ruined climax had been captured for logging purposes. “Minimal volume, maximum frustration. That’s exactly what you want to adjust their attitudes.” The young woman beamed at the praise, clearly pleased with her newly acquired skill.
The man’s head hung forward, his expression a mixture of shame and lingering arousal as his body processed the conflicting signals of release without relief. “Men’re most receptive to instruction immediately following a ruined orgasm,” Gladys continued, adopting the tone she used for her training seminars. “Their defenses are down, the physical need remains present, and the psychological impact of public failure creates a moment of heightened awareness.” As if to demonstrate this principle, the male subject raised his eyes, now alert and attentive despite his continued arousal, awaiting instruction with the desperate focus of someone who had been denied the very thing his body had been primed to expect.
“Thank you so much,” the young woman said, experimentally applying the technique again as the man’s penis twitched in response. “I can’t wait to try this on my boyfriend.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Gladys replied with a wink. “And these fellas provide plenty of opportunity for practice, don’t they?”
She made a mental note to include more detailed illustrations in the next revision of the visitor training manual. Perhaps a step-by-step photographic guide would improve first-time visitor effectiveness. It’s all about women building a better world, one penis at a time, she thought again, as the soft sounds of male distress and female instruction formed the ambient soundtrack of another productive morning at Pillory Park.
~ ~ ~
Gladys continued her inspection rounds along the central promenade to The Cock Walk. A large group of female spectators filled the observation areas, some with exhibitor guides, others critically observing. The event was underway, with female handlers leading their nude male charges by the genitals secured in harnesses and decorative leads. As she approached, the public address system emitted a soft chime followed by an announcement: “Judges are now evaluating Category Three: Controlled Presentation. Handlers, please proceed to Station B for penile posture assessment.”
The Cock Walk featured a circular pathway with multiple evaluation stations arranged at strategic intervals. The parade of handlers and their subjects moved in measured procession around the circuit. The men walked with legs appropriately spread to accommodate their tethered state, their penises and testicles secured in custom harnesses that allowed for optimal display while preventing unauthorized arousal.
At each evaluation station, judges evaluated both artistic presentation and technical merit. A younger handler employed a modern silicone harness with integrated tension sensors, the small LED display on her control unit indicating the precise pressure being applied to her subject’s genitals. Another utilized a more traditional leather apparatus featuring ceremonial beadwork, the aesthetic enhancement earning appreciative murmurs from the audience. Several spectators consulted scoring sheets, placing informal wagers.
A woman in formal business attire drew Gladys’s attention as she guided her charge toward the size comparison station. Her subject, a slight man with nervous eyes, walked with the characteristic gait of one accustomed to genital restraint, his penis notably diminutive even in its exposed state.
“Barely needs a leash on that one—more like a button on a string!” Gladys remarked to a nearby park attendant, who covered her mouth to suppress a laugh. The handler overheard the comment and offered Gladys a knowing smile. The man’s face flushed deeper, the public commentary clearly registering in his awareness even as he maintained the required forward gaze.
As the pair continued along the circuit, Gladys’s attention shifted to a woman in casual athletic wear leading a significantly larger male, his substantial genitalia shown to advantage in a specialized harness with reinforced confinement structures. The handler’s technique—she maintained her subject in a state of partial arousal, neither fully flaccid nor completely erect impressed Gladys. “Nice control on the big boy,” she called out approvingly. “Keeping him at half-mast shows real skill.”
Spectators had begun to gather around this particular display, pointing and commenting on the male’s exposed genitals with the casual interest of connoisseurs evaluating livestock. “Look at the vascularity,” observed one woman, gesturing toward the prominent veins visible beneath the taut skin. The subject’s physical reaction to public scrutiny was apparent: quickened breathing, dilated pupils, and a slight thigh tremor—signs of a psychophysiological response to controlled exhibition.
The park was cleverly designed to combine leisure activities with behavior regulation, both under the female gaze. Though originally intended as an educational facility, it quickly attracted tourists, who filled the area with cameras, exclamations of surprise, and laughter as they explored the exhibits. Tourism was welcomed, as it heightened the subjects’ embarrassment, making them more receptive to correction. The male mind’s submission pathways were engaged through carefully targeted shame and controlled excitement, enhancing compliance. The park had become a popular spot for bachelorette parties, even offering a fast-track course titled “How to make your Wedding Night a ruinous success!”
~ ~ ~
The Fitness & Fun Stations occupied the western quadrant of Pillory Park, where the pathways widened to accommodate the more dynamic activities housed there. Unlike the more passive exhibition areas she had just inspected, the Fitness & Fun Stations required active male participation. Department research had conclusively demonstrated that physical exertion combined with controlled sexual tension accelerated compliance outcomes.
The scrotal weight training area comprised a series of padded platforms arranged in a semicircle around a central instructor position. Each platform featured adjustable restraint systems that secured the male participants in a standing position with legs spread at regulation width. Specialized harnesses isolated their scrotal sacs, to which calibrated weights could be attached for progressive resistance training.
“Begin with the ten-ounce weights,” instructed a trainer to a group of five men positioned on the platforms. “Inhale as you lift, exhale during the hold period. Don’t jerk, if you don’t want to wind up a eunuch. Make it burn, boys.” The men complied, their faces contorting with concentration as they attempted to lift the weights attached to their testicles. “Now progress to fifteen ounces,” after a five-minute interval. One participant groaned in protest. “No pain, no gain,” she grinned.
The trainer circulated among the participants, occasionally applying correctional taps with a thin rod to a testicle or penis. “Subject Three, you haven’t budged it.”
“I’m trying, coach!”
“Trying? You’re just ‘trying’? That’s all a steer can do, is try. Put your nuts into it, or I’ll add more weights.” The man nodded quickly, visibly increasing his focus.
Gladys moved to the balancing station, observing male subjects trying to balance plastic rings on their partially erect penises without full arousal. This task demanded precise control over erection and arousal, a vital skill in today’s society. Men, hands secured behind their backs, faced an audience. Each wore a monitoring band on his penis, transmitting arousal data to the control console. Digital displays showed their arousal percentage, target range, and performance score.
“Station Four, approaching orgasm,” a computer voice announced. A trainer cautioned, “Use cognitive diversion technique six.” The subject briefly closed his eyes, silently reciting a department-approved exercise. His display showed a momentary decline in arousal percentage, followed by a sudden spike that triggered a warning tone from the monitoring system.
“Critical threshold exceeded, ejaculation commencing” the automated system announced as plastic rings wobbled on his erect penis. His body tensed, restraints creaking as his hips thrust forward. The rings fell, and semen arced across the platform, splattering the monitoring equipment.
A red light activated above his station, and a digital announcement broadcast throughout the area: “Clean up on station Four.”
The trainer approached the station, tablet in hand. “What did I tell you about control? Now look at the mess you’ve made on the equipment.”
The man’s face flushed with shame, his erection already subsiding as the post-ejaculatory neurochemical cascade diminished his arousal. “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he mumbled, eyes downcast. “I lost focus during the third-ring placement.”
“Perfect blend of shame and instruction there,” Gladys commented approvingly. “The public documentation of the failure is what really drives the lesson home.”
“Thank you, Senior Matron,” the trainer replied, visibly pleased by the recognition from her superior.
A small crowd of female spectators had gathered, drawn by the failure announcement. They watched with educational interest as the man was provided with disinfectant wipes and collection materials. “You will clean every drop,” instructed the trainer. With hands still secured behind his back, the man was forced to use his mouth to manage the cleaning materials, adding another layer of humiliation to the procedure. Tears of embarrassment welled in his eyes as he awkwardly maneuvered to clean his own emissions.
“Are you going to lock up his dick for that?” asked one spectator, a woman in professional attire who appeared to be taking notes.
“The standard penalty for unauthorized ejaculation during controlled exercises is a thirty-day prohibition from recreational release,” the trainer explained. “He will be fitted with a penis isolator to ensure compliance.”
With a final approving nod to the trainer who had handled the ejaculation incident so effectively, Gladys continued along her route, satisfied with the park’s operations and the ongoing fulfillment of its civic mission: the structured management of male sexuality for the betterment of society. She felt immense pride in her trainees and often wished she had experienced mentorship in her youth. The grateful “thanks” uttered by students ignited a warmth in her heart, and a warm swelling in her labia.
~~~ continued ~~~
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Pillory Park | by Richard Lovel | Copyright 2025 | All rights reserved
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
RL-2025-07-05