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p is busy with his chores when the bell rings. As ever he wears only his collar and a locked pouch which tightly constrains his genitals. The bell is his summons so he hurries to her room, he knows too well the punishment for keeping her waiting, and knocks on her door.
“Come.” Her voice is hard, imperious. p enters and goes over to kneel beside the bed. She is stretched out full length with Mistress Vicky curled up beside her. The covers are all awry and it says a great deal that she does nothing to protect her modesty; to her p is so insignificant that she needn't bother covering up any more than she would if one of her pet Alsatian dogs were to enter.
“I have friends coming for lunch, something light, a prawn salad perhaps, make sure it's ready for one-o-clock. Do you think you can manage that?”
“Yes Goddess.” p replies. The withering scorn is well directed. p knows that he is merely an adequate cook and he has to try hard not to let Goddess down.
“And Vicky needs a bath. Have one ready in five minutes. Off you go.”
p takes the breakfast tray from the bedside table and hurries off. He wonders who has been invited to lunch. Whilst Goddess and Mistress Vicky have no use for him other than as a menial slave some of her friends enjoy using males for more intimate services. Indeed sometimes p wonders why Goddess consents to having him as a slave; she makes no secret of her sexual preferences and her intimate needs are met by Mistress Vicky and her female friends. Perhaps it is the knowledge that p’s devotion is so hopeless, yet so complete, that amuses her. However, some of Goddess’s friends have very different tastes, tastes that p will be expected to satisfy. Today could be as simple as just serving the food and keeping out of the way, or, as so many times before, he could be used to provide the after lunch amusement.
He goes to the bathroom and turns on the taps. Carefully he selects the right bath oils and pours them in. Gingerly he tests the water and runs in a little more cold to get it just right in time for Mistress Vicky to arrive. She sweeps in, ignoring p and, letting her dressing gown drop to the floor, disrobes and slips into the bath. p picks up the dressing gown and hangs it up before slipping away discretely. He'll return later to assist with the rest of her morning rituals. p hopes that she is due another pedicure; he’s getting quite good at it and he does so enjoy the chance to pamper her feet. Maybe she’ll allow him to rest her heels in his lap whilst he paints her toenails.
The rest of the morning passes with p doing the washing. Goddess's lingerie is all of the finest quality and requires careful hand washing. He also tidies the bedroom and bathroom, keeping them as pristine as possible.
At midday the doorbell rings. p hurries to answer it, knowing it will be Goddess's guests and it would be foolish to keep them waiting. As he lets them in his heart sinks; one of the guests is Mistress Anne accompanied by her slave. p knows only too well what sort of thing Mistress Anne likes for her afternoon entertainment; she likes to see slaves suffer and has a devilish imagination when it comes to new ways to inflict pain.
p leads the guests through to the lounge and serves them drinks. Mistress Anne lounges in an armchair, her heels resting on the back of her slave. There’s a strong contrast between her and Goddess: Goddess has poise, composure, a certain serenity about her actions whereas Mistress Anne, whilst undeniably a dominant woman, has an undercurrent of vulgarity. p doesn’t recognize her slave; it is noticeable that he’s not the same one she brought with her last time. She doesn’t seem to be able to keep her slaves for long, not like the years that p has been serving Goddess.
Once the drinks are served p goes to the kitchen to put the finishing touches to the lunch menu. With it being a cold meal at least he doesn’t need to bother about overcooking things. There’s nothing worse than being called to top up the drinks just when the food is cooked to perfection only to find that, when he returns to the kitchen, it’s now burnt. Whilst it might be argued that the food would not have been ruined if Goddess had not called him at an inopportune time, this is not a line that p would take, not if he wished to avoid even more punishment!
At one-o-clock the women come through to the dining room to eat. p has worked extra hard to get the table looking perfect and, as she sits down, Goddess gives him a little smile to acknowledge this. It’s moments like that which makes p’s life worth it; Goddess has noticed and appreciated his efforts, that is all the payment he needs.
Again, the comparison with Mistress Anne is vivid. Goddess is, as ever, the gracious hostess whilst Mistress Anne must have been hitting the drinks quite hard and is already showing obvious signs of drunkenness. Her slave is knelt on the floor beside her and she absentmindedly toys with him, alternating between stroking and tweaking. The food doesn’t slow down her drinking at all and, several times during the meal, p has to top up her glass. At last they finish and p clears the table and fetches coffee and brandy. Mistress Anne slumps back in her chair.
“Why is it” she asks “that all porn seems to feature lesbian girl-on-girl action but we girls never seem to get any boy-on-boy action?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.” Goddess replies. “Maybe some of us prefer it that way.”
“Oh, that’s all right for you lezzies, but it doesn’t seem fair to me. Let’s have it the other way round for a change.” p flinches at hearing Goddess described as a lezzie but it’s hardly his place to object.
“Huh, that will be the day.” One of the others replies.
“I know what we can do to even things up. Why don’t we get these two to give us a little show; a little after dinner entertainment?”
“If it would amuse you, by all means, be my guest.” Goddess gives a tolerant chuckle. She is well used to Mistress Anne in one of these moods and willing to play along.
“Right boys,” Mistress Anne orders. “Come here and stand in front of me.”
p and Mistress Anne’s slave do as they’re told. Mistress Anne reaches for the key attached to the chain which hangs around her neck and taking it off, reaches down and unlocks the leather chastity shorts her slave is wearing. She glances up at Goddess who has removed a similar key from around her neck and Goddess gently tosses it over to her. When the pouch around p’s penis is released it springs forward, not from any arousal but simply from being free after so long.
“That’s better.” Mistress Anne reached for p’s penis and gave it a squeeze. “Now, get over there on the couch and give us a show, I want to see plenty of passion, plenty of hot boy/boy action. The one who I judge gives the best performance will get a prize.”
p and Mistress Anne’s slave go over to the couch and sit down. For a moment they just stare at each other. p can read in the other man’s eyes the same fear, the same confusion, that he is feeling. Whilst his servitude has given him a relaxed attitude towards actions which many would feel bazaar or perverse there is nothing homosexual in his nature, indeed he feels that men are worthless beings compared to women, and the idea of having to kiss another man, and who knows what else besides, meets a strong resistance inside him.
“Go on, get on with it.” Mistress Anne urges.
p knows he can’t refuse, not if he wants to go on living as Goddess’s slave. Disobedience is at the top of the list of things she will not tolerate and it doesn’t matter that the orders are coming from Mistress Anne; to disobey one is to disobey all. Gingerly p reaches out to Mistress Anne’s slave and pulls him closer. There’s no getting away from it, they are going to have to kiss. Their lips touch, for a moment they pause, and then their mouths open and their tongues entwine. p tries to imagine it’s a woman he’s kissing but it won’t work, his lips were meant to kiss a woman’s feet, her shoes, her toes, or, if he were really lucky, to provide that most intimate of services; they were never meant to kiss a woman’s lips. Furthermore, however hard he tries, he cannot imagine that this is a woman’s body that he is holding, there’s no softness and, as their lips lock together, he can feel the light stubble brushing against him.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Mistress Anne gets up and goes to the sideboard where a riding crop awaits for just these occasions. “If you two don’t give me some hot action immediately I’ll make you both wish you’d never been born.”
p and Mistress Anne’s slave need no further urging; both are well aware of just how painful she can make their lives if they fail to satisfy. Despite the inner revulsion he feels p throws himself into the role, and, although p knows the revulsion is mutual, Mistress Anne’s slave responds. Their kisses become more passionate, their bodies more entwined and their hands wander. p feels a hand around his penis, grasping it, stroking it, tugging at it. p realizes that, if he doesn’t get an erection, Mistress Anne will pick him up on it and he’ll suffer. He tries to think of something, anything, to make him hard but, quite frankly, Mistress Anne’s slave isn’t really helping. Apart from the basic fact that p finds nothing erotic about having another man’s hand on his penis, Mistress Anne’s slave’s clumsy and uncoordinated tugs are uncomfortable rather than erotic. p knows he’ll have to lead by example.
As sensuously as he can he wraps his fingers around the other man’s penis. Gently, smoothly, he eases the foreskin back and forth across the glans. He is gratified to find that his actions are working, he can feel the growing stiffness and, better still, Mistress Anne’s slave has got the message and is matching the slower, more sensual rhythm. p finally responds, despite it all he can get aroused and, although he would never admit it, the feeling isn’t all bad.
p knows that they can’t just sit there wanking each other; Mistress Anne has demanded a show and a show they must give. He breaks from the kiss and starts to caress the other man’s shoulders with his lips. He moves lower, kissing his nipples, teasing them with his teeth. It’s a bit strange what with the body hair and no breasts but he’s beginning to relax, to overcome his initial squeamishness. On impulse he bites quite hard and feels Mistress Anne’s slave respond. He bites again, harder this time and Mistress Anne’s slave groans. A third even harder bite and Mistress Anne’s slave throws his head back, a whispered ‘Yes, yes, yes.’ escaping from his clenched teeth.
p recognizes that he must take control. Mistress Anne’s slave seems only able to respond. He pushes the other man down so he is lying on the couch and, whilst his hand works away on the slave’s penis, uses his teeth to caress, nibble and occasionally bite, Mistress Anne’s slave’s torso. Inevitably he is working downwards, inevitably he is getting nearer and nearer to Mistress Anne’s slave’s groin. p realizes he’s trapped himself, painted himself into a corner. If he breaks off now it will be obvious why and he’s in no doubt that Mistress Anne will pick up on it. On the other hand, if he continues, the only logical conclusion to what he is doing is to give Mistress Anne’s slave a blow job.
p considers his dilemma, but there really isn’t one; if he backs out now he would be effectively disobeying, he would be letting down his Goddess. After all, what better way to show his devotion than to do this thing which gives him no pleasure but only disgust? Fighting the twinge of nausea within him he kisses the tip of Mistress Anne’s slave’s penis, and then, thinking that he might as well get this over with, takes it into his mouth as deeply as possible.
p tries to think how he would like to have it done to him. At first he is slow and sensuous, running his lips along as much of the shaft as he can take. To help him find the rhythm, and to help persuade Mistress Anne that he’s putting on the best show he can, he reaches for his own penis with his free hand. It’s been ages since he’s played with himself; he’s strictly forbidden under normal circumstances and Goddess only allows it when he’s been very good, so it doesn’t take too much to get and keep him hard. He knows better than to go too far, though, he might be allowed to come as part of the show but definitely not by playing with himself.
Meanwhile Mistress Anne’s slave is succumbing to p’s ministrations. p, guided by the increasing groans and sighs, has upped the tempo and is using his teeth from time to time. It would appear that Mistress Anne’s slave does not have quite the same degree of revulsion at homosexual contact; p can tell he’s getting close; it’s not going to be long now before…
With a massive groan Mistress Anne’s slave arches his back and thrusts his penis deep into p’s mouth. Again and again great gobs of sperm are pumped out filling p’s throat. p wonders just how long Mistress Anne’s slave has been kept deprived of relief that he can produce so much, and just what Mistress Anne will say about his failure to control himself.
At last the flow stops; p lets the now flaccid penis flop from his mouth and, fighting the vomit reflex, swallows what he can. He’d love a drink, a glass of water, anything to clear out his mouth but he knows that will not be forthcoming.
“God you’re useless.” Mistress Anne flicks her slaves penis with the end of the crop. “Just when I was beginning to enjoy the show you lose control. How pathetic can you get.”
“And what about you?” Mistress Anne continues turning to p. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? You’re just the type of little poof who likes sucking men’s dicks, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Mistress.” p replies. Although his stomach is still churning as much from what he had done as from swallowing the semen he knew better than to contradict Mistress Anne.
“Well, seeing as you were the better performer I’m going to let you have a present, a present for a pooftah. Vicky, sweetie, fetch me the lubricant, will you, and you,” Mistress Anne turned back to her slave, her voice full of contempt, “you, my pathetic little worm. Get on the floor, kneel over the couch and spread-em.”
Vicky returns with a tube of lubricating jelly and Mistress Anne gestures her to give it to p who takes it and applies a liberal smear to the crack of Mistress Anne’s slave’s buttocks which he is holding wide open. Gingerly he spread it over the sphincter, reluctant to enter, even with his finger.
“Don’t be so useless.” Mistress Anne snarled. “Push it right in.”
p did as he was told, using his fingers to push the jelly deep inside. He’s repulsed by what must come next and he takes his time so as to delay the inevitable. However Mistress Anne flicks his hands away with the crop.
“Stop pissing about. Get on with it. Let’s see you fuck this little runt’s arse.”
Desperately playing with himself so as to revive what he could of his erection, p positions himself behind Mistress Anne’s slave. He places his penis against the sphincter and pushes but it's too tight and his erection too soft. His growing panic doesn't help much either. Once more he tries and this time manages to get the tip in. Using his hand to firm up his erection he eases himself further and further in. If he could just close his mind to exactly what he was doing it isn't too bad. Mistress Anne’s slave’s arse is very tight and p’s penis is gripped firmly. As he starts to move back and forth the sensations are fantastic; if only he could forget that he is buried deep inside another man’s backside.
“Harder than that, don’t muck around.” To emphasis her point Mistress Anne flicks the crop across p’s buttocks. Again and again she strikes, beating out the rhythm, beating harder beating faster with p keeping time, thrusting himself into Mistress Anne’s slave’s bottom. Ironically the beating is helping. p feels that he is no longer in control, he is simply an extension of Mistress Anne’s will and it is her, not him, that is doing this. In addition the tight squeeze around his prick, the increasing tempo of the movements, and the built up frustration of not being allowed relief for so long he couldn’t remember are combining inside his balls to provide a pressure that demands release.
“Please, Mistress.” He begs.
“What?” Mistress Anne demands.
“Please may I be allowed to come?”
“Ooh, poofy slave wants to shoot his load up another mans arse, does he? What are you?”
“I’m a poof, Mistress, a poof that likes fucking men’s arses.” p lies, knowing what reply Mistress Anne would demand.
“Yes, you are, and don’t forget it. Ok, you may come.”
Harder and harder Mistress Anne beats her rhythm against p’s buttocks, harder and harder he thrusts himself into the tight hole, until, boiling up inside his testicles, he can feel the eruption start. Once, twice, three times and a final fourth, his whole being explodes, pumping his sperm deep inside the unfortunate anus of Mistress Anne’s slave. Then, exhausted, drained and disgusted he collapses forward and flops over the other man’s back.
“Useless, the pair of you.” Mistress Anne sneers. “Well, ladies, shall we withdraw to the lounge?”
As the women depart p extracts himself and takes a couple of moments to get his breath back. He loves Goddess, he worships her, he would do anything to stay in her presence but was it worth it when he is treated like this?
He knows the answer is yes, will always be yes.
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