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The Drinking Game
As dominatrixes my girl friends and I like to have fun with our slaves. Fun – that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?
Each week, we congregate at one or another’s place and play with our slaves. Sometimes, it’s all of ‘em – sometimes, just one provides the fun and games.
There are three of us dominas, so I’ll introduce us all. First, my dearest friend, Mistress Fleur. She’s 50, blonde, almost skinny, but nice, firm breasts. Fair pubic hair and flashing blue eyes.
Then there’s Mistress Ebony – OK, I know, there’s a million of ‘em, but Ebony is a bloody good domme. She’s 40, and her age equates to her bust. Her nipples are surrounded by the darkest, biggest areolae you’ve ever seen. Shaves her snatch back to a dark stubble.
Finally, moi. I call myself Red because I’ve got vivid red hair, and a good bust, and I shave down there. I’m 35 and I’m the only one who’s not American. I’m from England, you may have seen me in some of those femdom videos. I’ve left Manchester now, though, and set up at a place I called the Raunch Ranch, outside Dallas.
This week, it’s my turn to host the event and Mistress Ebony has requested that one of her new slaves – her newest, in fact – be the subject of the game. That’s fine by us, Ebony usually has some really lovely kinky sluts as slaves.
The day of the fun and games dawned cloudless and hot, and Ebony arrived with her slave around 10am – we usually start playing around midday, but on her arrival she explained: “I want him to be ready for when everyone’s here, I wanna keep him hanging around, you ‘kay with that?”
I nodded. He looked the sort of guy who would look good “hanging around”.
“This is Cunt,” said Ebony, introducing me to her new plaything. “He’s 30, and when he’s naked you’ll be able to see he’s not a disappointment.”
From where he stood, I could he looked pretty good. He wasn’t naked but damn near close enough for it not to matter. His only clothing – clothing, that’s a laugh – was a shiny little black PVC posing pouch, which bunched his cock and balls. His body was hairless – even his head was shaved – and he was built for punishment! His muscles gleamed as he stood out in the immaculately-groomed garden, back of my mansion.
“Hi ya, Cunt,” I smiled at him, as he stood nervously awaiting whatever his mistress had in store for him.
“Hello, Mistress Red,” he said, in a clear voice, deep and dark. He was lovely – about 6 feet tall, and with a suitably humble tone to his manner.
“Right, cunt,” snapped Mistress Ebony, “go to the barn and there you’ll find a metal flogging frame. Bring it out and I want it set up by the pool, over there.”
She indicated a spot by my lovely large pool, where we often held the games when it was my turn to host the three dommes. The slave nodded, said “Yes, mistress” and walked away to the barn, his buttocks gleaming in the hot sun. Oh, I forgot, he had a deep, bronze tan.
“He’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” I told the dark domme. “What’s his speciality?”
Ebony grinned. “Piss,” she said. “Only when he signed himself over to me, he thought it was just gonna be drinking from my pussy and enjoying the odd golden shower. But now he knows there’s a fuck sight more to it.”
I laughed, typical Ebony – stretching her slaves’ limits to the max!
The bronzed, superbly-built slave soon returned with the flogging frame, which he rolled into place where I indicated, facing a row of three leather-padded sun recliners, which faced out towards the pool.
“OK, Cunt,” said Ebony, when the frame was in place, “now fetch the piss and hang it in place, you know the drill.”
The slave left to go to Ebony’s big Lexus and soon returned, hefting a large rubber bag. At each end of the neck were two D-rings. From the bottom of the bag, a tube descended. Both the bag and the tube were clear, the contents plainly visible.
And those contents were a darkish, yellow liquid. I didn’t need to ask what it was! “How much?” was my only query to Mistress Ebony.
“A gallon,” she remarked, casually.
“A gallon?” I said. “Fuck, Ebony, that’s eight fuckin’ pints!”
“Yeah, don’t I know it,” she grinned. “Or, rather, don’t he know it!”
“Tasty, eh, Cunt?” I asked.
“Yes, mistress,” he said, politely, “extremely.”
Ebony let out a big chuckle. “Tell Mistress Red why it’s so fuckin’ tasty, Cunt,” she ordered her slut.
“Because it’s Mistress Ebony’s first urine of each day for the past seven days,” said the slave, again very politely.
“Yukkk,” I said, in mock disgust, although the thought really appealed to me. “The first overnight piss is always the strongest.”
Ebony smiled. “Yep, sure is,” she agreed, “and especially when I’ve had a cup of really strong coffee before my piss!”
We both roared with laughter and then Ebony asked: “Red, you gotta stool, Cunt here can stand on while he’s setting up for the game?”
“Sure, I’ll fetch a leather settle from inside the house,” I said. “Can he hold it for another minute or so?”
I only asked because Cunt’s muscles were gleaming in the strong sun as he grasped the big rubber bag by the D-rings.
“Course he can,” said Ebony. “Cos if he don’t, then I’ll cut his balls off and feed ‘em to him.”
I laughed and ran into the house and returned with a leather settle, which I placed directly beneath the crossbar on the flogging frame. Cunt stepped onto it, his lovely butt rippling as he climbed up, then he fixed the bag onto the middle of the cross beam, snapping the D-rings shut so it was held in place, swaying slightly for a minute or two.
“Right, Cunt,” snapped Ebony, “now let’s have you in place for this here fun and games you’re so fuckin’ keen to show off for me and my friends.”
Cunt stepped beneath the crossbar which had at each end the support poles of the metal contraption. Set in the right angles of the crossbar and upright poles, were thick leather wrist straps.
The slave positioned himself and placed his left wrist in one strap. Ebony stepped forward and put his right into place for him.
Then she whipped the posing pouch away from his groin and I looked on in appreciation as I saw his heavy equipment. His cock was thick and uncut. His ball bag was darkish brown and heavy. He had been shaved clean of public hair. His cock began to rise slightly towards an erection.
Ebony then strapped his ankles in the leather restraints at the foot of the poles, which were set at such a height to make the slave in bondage stretch up onto tiptoe. The new stance made his muscles strain – he looked fuckin’ lovely!
“Want me to fit him out at the mouthpiece, Red?” asked Ebony, when her slut was in place.
I looked at my watch. Fleur would be arriving in about 90 minutes, according to my Rolex Oyster. “Why not,” I said, “then we’ll be ready to go as soon as she’s here.”
“Not quite,” said Ebony, as she fitted the straps at the end of the tubing hanging from the piss bag around her slave’s cheeks and tied them together just above the nape of his neck. “There’s one final refinement.”
I didn’t pry, but watched as the dark beauty popped the spigot holding the urine from the bag open and popped it into Cunt’s mouth. “Plug it with your tongue, Cunt,” she snapped, and the slave obviously complied.
“There,” said Ebony, stepping back and looking at her now hard-cocked slave, “all ready for the game. Now, Red, let’s have a nice cold drink, I’m thirsty as.”
“What about Cunt?” I asked. “Something tells me he might be thirsty too!”
Ebony nodded. “Cunt hasn’t had a thing to drink since 8 o’clock last night.” Then she laughed. “Oh, silly me, I forgot – he did have a drink of my piss just before lights out, didn’t you, Cunt?”
The tethered, erect-pricked Cunt nodded, as he kept his tongue firmly in place at the end of the tube, to prevent “spillage”.
Ebony then walked in front of her slut slave, and stroked his cock, which if anything became even harder. “Now,” she told him, “Mistress Red and I are going inside for some nice cool drinks.
“And then when Mistress Fleur’s here, then we’ll come out and get started on you, baby. And you can start drinking my lovely piss, which I know you like so much. But right now, just try to relax and hang around in this lovely sun, OK?”
The brown-eyed slave nodded, obediently to his busty mistress. Fuck, there wasn’t anything he could say, was there? What with the piss tube from the urine bag hanging there in his mouth.
In the kitchen, I took a large jug of wine spritzer from the refrigerator and as we sipped on the cooling drinks, we could look out at the naked, suspended slave, his body now covered in sweat as he hung then, piss tube hanging above his head.
What added to his suffering – of course – was the fact that from where he was awaiting his punishment, he could see me and his mistress enjoying our cool drinks!
As we waited for Fleur to arrive, Ebony told me what was required for her slave’s game. “All we need is three whips,” she said. “A paddle for his butt, a single-tailed lash and triple-tailed lash.”
I nodded. “I’ll fetch ‘em from the torture chamber now,” I said, and five minutes later I laid them on the kitchen table. Ebony ran the lashes through her fingers, and stroked the heavy leather paddle.
“Fuckin’ great,” she said. “Now, just to add to his discomfort, babe, why don’t you get into your domme gear and then take these out to where Cunt’s hangin’ about, so he can feast his eyes on his implements of punishment! Give him somethin’ more to think about, eh?”
Which sure suited me – any little addition to a slave’s agony of waiting is all perfectly fine in my domination book!
So I went upstairs, and got into the outfit I’d chosen for the day’s entertainment, while Ebony also got herself prepared.
I went for a red leather bustier, which goes perfectly with my dazzling red hair, and red boots which came to half-way up my thighs. I didn’t bother with panties, let him feast his eyes on my snatch!
Ebony chose a black leather quarter-cup bra, a black leather suspender belt, black seamed stockings and shiny black patent leather “Fuck me” shoes. She left her pussy bare, too, naturally.
Downstairs, I picked up the three implements of correction and walked out into the strong sun. I like to think that Cunt gave a wide-eyed stare of lust and appreciation as I walked towards him.
I laid the three flagellation utensils on the leather settle, which was standing just in front of his naked body, and gave his now-limp cock a deft stroke as I saw him looking down at them, warily.
“Hi Cunt,” I said, in my “I’m gonna flog you” tone, “I thought you’d just like to get a good look at what we’ll be laying into you with. Now, we won’t keep you hanging about too much longer, Mistress Fleur’s due soon.”
Then, cupping his balls and giving him a slight squeeze, I asked: “You OK out here, Cunt? Not too uncomfortable?”
He shook his head in what I took to be a “No, mistress, everything’s fine” gesture and then slapped his cock playfully.
To my pleasure, he was sporting a pre-cum-drooling hard-on when I turned on my heel and gave him a great view of my shapely ass as I walked away from him back into the house.
I’d hardly got back inside the coolness of my mansion, when Fleur was walking into the kitchen. “Fuck,” she said, “it’s hot. Pour me a cold glass, while I get changed.”
Then she went upstairs to my bedroom, and stepped back down in about five minutes, dressed for “action” as it were.
Fleur looked stunning. Her blonde hair was cropped in a short, no-nonsense crop, her lips were bright red, and she wore a stunning black PVC playsuit for the game outside with Cunt.
It was one of this lace-up the middle jobs, with cut-outs for her smallish but firm breasts. It was also crotchless, so her pretty little trimmed blonde bush was on display, the labia peeping below the hair. Domination boots, also black, completed her “Don’t fuck with me” attire.
Sipping on a spritzer, Fleur looked out at the naked slave. “Hmmm,” she said, appreciatively, “very nice. How long’s he been hangin’ around waiting for us?”
I checked my Rolex. “Almost an hour and a half,” I said.
“Fuck,” said Fleur, “he must be dyin’ for it by now.” Then she concentrated on the rubber bag. “Sheet, Ebony, how much in that bag?”
Ebony laughed. “Take a guess.”
Fleur frowned. “A gallon?” she said.
“Go to the top of the class,” said the black bird.
“Say what,” said Fleur, chugging back some spritzer and holding out her glass for a refill, “what say we keep him hangin’ around a little longer? I’ll go out and apologize to him, but I’ll say I’m so thirsty and would he mind waiting a little longer?”
Ebony and I nodded our agreement. “Go ahead,” said the slave’s mistress. “He’s our toy – we can do what we fuckin’ well like.”
We swung open the kitchen’s large sliding windows and watched as Fleur trotted out to the naked, sweat-streaked slave, hanging in his tip-toe bondage.
In one hand she held her cold glass of spritzer, and in the other she reached out for Cunt’s cock. He began to erect once more.
“Hi baby,” said Fleur, smiling at him. “Look, I do hope you don’t mind, but I’ve not seen my friends for over a week and we just want to catch up on the news. Mind if we keep you waitin’ just a eensy, teensy, weensy bit longer?”
What could poor old Cunt say? Nothing. But he could shake his head.
“Great,” smiled Fleur, still stroking his now raging stiffy, “I’ll take that as a ‘No, Mistress Fleur, take as long as you like’ nod. Correct?”
Cunt nodded his head, his tongue still blocking the flow of Mistress Ebony’s strong-tasting morning urine, sweat flowing down his superbly-toned body.
Then Fleur gave him a chaste little peck on his perspiration-covered cheek and walked away from him, back into the kitchen.
Back in the kitchen, I had just mixed another spritzer – a bottle of Pinot Grigio, a bottle of sparkling Italian mineral water and ice cubes- when Fleur walked back in.
“All right Ebony,” she said, as we all quaffed on our refreshing drinks, “tell us what this game’s all about.”
To be continued.
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