Mike could hear Mistress Janet chatting with some of her competitors behind him. Despite the grandeur of the event and the high stakes, their rivalry was a friendly one. They spoke amicably and laughed as they adjusted their harnesses and stretched their limbs, preparing for lengthy, but pleasurable, exertion.
Michael glanced from side to side and observed his surroundings as the final minutes ticked down. There was a camera crew and an announcer not far ahead, making their final preparations. To his left, at podiums two through six, were his five contemporaries. The other men, who seemed to range in age from twenty five to forty five, were likewise bound to the daises with leather harnesses wrapped around their faces and gags fixed in their mouths.
“Alright ladies, we’re live in two minutes! Take your places!” The announcer was a pretty brunette of medium height wearing a stylish suit coat. Her name tag identified her as a reporter for one of the local news stations.
The women all stepped up behind their slaves, their strapons pointed directly at six exposed, waiting puckers. Each Domina was clad in white satin tops, white leather gloves, a white strapon harness and, of course, their girthy weapons. These items were provided to the contestants to make sure the endowments were standardized and no equipment would give the contestants an advantage over the others.
The white colors not only made the Dommes stand out before the sea of black leather and latex in the audience, but also evoked the newfound tradition of the collaring ceremony that had replaced traditional matrimony. Now, a woman deflowered her man after collaring him and claiming him as her property. Not that deflowering was typically an accurate term. Men being taken on their special night were no more likely to be strapon virgins than women were to be chaste back in the day.
“Your lube dispensers are on the left side of each podium” the announcer spoke up again. “Use them as much as you like. You should do your first application now, before the broadcast begins.”
Michael felt the cold metal tip of the injector plunge into his starfish and streams of cool, viscous gel spat into his ass. It was already cold enough, being naked in the arena and strapped to a metal bondage apparatus. The lube chilled him even further and a shiver ran up his spine. He knew it wouldn’t last, though. Things would be heating up very soon.
Janet squirted a generous amount of lube over her thick appendage before re-holstering the lube gun and putting her hands on her hips. After a long minute of intense anticipation the audience was directed to silence. The video cameras live indicator lights blinked on and the spectacle began.
“Good evening and welcome to the annual All City Strapon Tournament! I’m Amanda Fielding for Channel 9 News.”
“And I’m Barbara Galway” her color commentator interjected. “We’ve got a great show for you tonight!”
“Indeed! So before we get started, let’s meet our contestants!”
Amanda strode toward the row of podiums as steady applause coursed through the arena. She pointed to the first dais as she spoke into the mic. “In our number one slot, the district one winner! We have Mistress Janet Woods and her slut slave, Michael!”
“Looks like Michael isn’t out of the woods yet.” Barbara piped up.
“Something tells me he never will be” Amanda quipped. The audience laughed and their was a smattering of applause.
Michael’s heart raced as the camera pointed at him, but thankfully it moved on before long. He took deep breaths through his nose and calmed himself as they went down the line and introduced the other five pairs. In short order, they were ready to proceed and the two women began explaining the rules. Most spectators already knew them, but it was part of the ceremony and you never knew who might be new to the tournament.
“The strapons being used are nine inches long and two inches in diameter. Points are awarded based on thrusting. Every minute of continual strapon fucking awards ten points. Any time a slave comes from prostate stimulation is one hundred bonus points. This must happen completely hands free. Any touching of the bottom’s penis is an immediate disqualification!”
“Oh, so the better trained the slave, the higher the advantage?”
“Exactly! If at any point in the competition a top fails to thrust into her bottom at least fifteen times in a sixty second period, she has forfeit her right to continue. The slave may tap out any time by holding down the buttons on either side of his podium for three seconds.”
“Wouldn’t want to be the first slave to do that!” Barb exclaimed with raised eyebrows and an amused expression.
“No doubt their punishment will be swift!” Amanda confirmed with a nod. “Whoever has the most points and hasn’t been disqualified when all contestants are done is the winner! Ok, let’s not keep everyone in suspense. LET THE PEGGING BEGIN!”
A loud cheer and a wave of applause went up as lights swirled from the ceiling and the stage was set. Amanda and Barbara took their seats at the announcer’s table. Each woman on stage pressed the tip of her silicone weapon against the quivering entrance of her waiting bitch boy.
The audience and announcers shouted in unison as the prompter signs lit up. “THREE! TWO! ONE! FUCK!!!”
Six long, fat rubber cocks plunged into the silky puckers of well trained slaves. Their years of practice didn’t prevent grunts and groans as each lady went balls deep in one stroke, but the howling submissives could scarcely be heard. Even without their gags, the roar of the crowd was deafening.
The row of statuesque Goddesses seized the hips of their bend-over-boyfriends and began pounding them in earnest. The shiny, thick lengths of latex cock-meat slurped in and out of their stretched-wide holes. The women’s powerful thighs flexed as their hips flew back and forth and the fat rubber scrotum of each weapon smacked their slaves with vigor. Each woman started out at a blistering pace, wanting to put on a good show and not be outdone by her fellow Femdoms.
“Whoa! Easy there, ladies! It’s a marathon, not a sprint!”
“Yeah, there’s no way they can keep up that pace for long. But damn, is it nice to see while it lasts…”
The eyes of each slave bulged and bugged as they were pistoned with a powerful torrent of strapon fucking. They muttered around their gags and pulled on their bindings in futility as drool ran from their leather-locked lips and lubricant ran down their taints, pooling on the floor.
Hard as a rock, desperate to come and already feeling the bliss of rubber dick sliding back and forth over his prostate, Michael squealed around his phlegmy ball-gag and his cock shot its first load. His thick seed spat out, trailing down the sloped back end of the podium and adding gobs of gooey nut to the mess of lube below.
“Hey now! We got our first slave popping off! Let’s go in for a close up!”
One of the cameras zoomed in on Michael’s discharging dicklet as Janet shafted him with her much larger phallus. The excited red-head smiled and waved at the camera before returning her hand to his side. She took an even more stern grip of his flanks and fucked Michael even harder, putting on a show for the viewers at home.