She was on her fourth or fifth woman when Shelly nudged me and said, “Your round. I’m paying, but you’re naming.”
I looked up and realized that a waitress was standing next to me. “Something really big… and really strong,” I said in a loud, but shaky voice.
“That would be a Long-Island Iced Tea,” the waitress said with a laugh. She looked over at Shelly and she nodded her head. “Long-Islands it is,” the waitress said as she turned to go back to the bar.
I turned my attention back to the stage and was surprised that the sissy had only three women left to do and there was just over four minutes left on the clock.
“How is that possible?” I stuttered out. “Don’t Mistresses have more… control than that?”
Shelly laughed softly and said, “Mistresses are women, too, Precious. We have been drinking and watching sex shows all evening. Booze may make a man less responsive, but it usually makes a woman more responsive.” She nodded back toward the stage and continued, “Plus, how long would you last if you were lying next to woman after woman who was being tongued to orgasm? The sights… the sounds… the smells… would probably make you pop even before slave wendy got to you with her tongue.”
I could feel the wetness between my legs. She was right. I was almost ready to go over the top and no one had done anything to me… yet.
Shelly’s voice then got very soft. “Wait until after you have finished your drink to answer me,” she began, “but would you like to go up on stage and do that to me? … as my slave? We would have the submission and collaring ceremony and then you could give your mouth to me for the first time.” She patted my arm and said, “Think about it. I’ll accept whatever answer you give me.”
I sat staring at her until the clunk of a glass being set on the table in front of me brought me out of my state of shock. Shelly had just asked me to be her slave!
I took a big gulp of my drink and started coughing. There is no iced-tea in a Long Island Iced Tea. I could taste something very sweet with an overtaste of oranges and lime. I could also vaguely taste something like rum and over all of it was the taste of Coca Cola.
“Wow!” I said as I got my breath back. “So that’s a Long Island Iced Tea.” I smiled at Shelly and said, “I may have found a new favorite drink.”
“We’ll have to order those first next time we come here,” she replied.
I just closed my mouth over the straw and sucked in another mouthful of my drink. Then a loud moan from on stage, followed immediately by an even louder bell caught my attention. When I looked up, the last Mistress was thrashing on the divan with her legs wrapped around the sissy’s head. There were still eleven seconds left on the clock.
“It looks like slut-slave wendy has won the right for release and relief,” the Head Mistress announced loudly. She clapped her hands and the twelve women left the stage. I noticed that Margi, who had been number eleven, wasn’t walking very straight as she came back to the table. She sat down without putting her pants back on and downed about half of her tea. “That sissy has been well-trained,” she said firmly before taking another huge gulp of the drink.
Meanwhile, the stagehands were wheeling what looked like a portion of a huge barrel onto the stage. “We keep this in back for times such as this,” the Head Mistress explained as she pointed at the device which, now that it was in place, looked more like the rounded roof of a small shed.
Mistress Abigail had joined her on stage. She pointed to the ground at her feet and wendy scurried over and knelt there. “Stand up and I will prepare you,” she said firmly and wendy jumped to her feet.
Mistress Abigail turned wendy so she was facing away from her and began loosening the corset. Once it was totally loose, she pushed downward on it and the entire dress fell to the ground.
“Step out,” she ordered and wendy did so. Wendy was now standing naked on the stage. I was surprised that her breasts were real, but all that takes is hormone pills. Her hips were slightly rounded and from the back she looked like a teenaged girl, but that illusion was shattered when she turned around. Her penis, which was now clearly visible, was enlarging and straining against the chastity device which had it tightly contained. Mistress Abigail tapped the plastic with the tips of her fingers and said smartly, “That comes off last. Now lay over the stretcher frame.”
Wendy walked over to the rounded device and lay over it on her back. It was slightly wider than she was and long enough so that her feet and hands– when she stretched them out– were well within its length. Stagehands hurried to wrap restraints around wendy’s ankles and wrists. The ankle restraints appeared to be attached directly to the stretching frame. The wrist restraints were attached to ropes which went through pulleys almost concealed within the frame. There must have been a wheel or something on the back side of the frame, because one of the stagehands stood there and the ropes got tighter and tighter. After a few more turns of the wheel, Mistress Abigail said, “That’s enough,” and then signaled for the stagehands to leave. Slut-slave wendy was now tied in a very tight bow with the highest point of her body being her prick, which was straining painfully at the constraint of the chastity device.
Mistress Abigail was in a full-body, black catsuit with a removable panel which covered her crotch. It had a belt-like strap at the waist which held the bikini-shaped panel in place. Since the edges of the bikini panel were in the creases at the top of the legs, it was not apparent there was a panel until the Mistress removed it.
Mistress Abigail was a true red head, or at least the carpet matched the drapes. I hear that there are special dyes that can be used down there now. She maneuvered herself over wendy’s face and then settled herself down. Meanwhile, a slave girl– or perhaps a naked stagehand– walked up behind the stretching frame and removed the chastity shield. As wendy’s cock unfolded and grew, the slave girl slid something over it.
The device was a thick, clear tube about three inches long that apparently had a bladder of some sort around the inside of it. I couldn’t tell if the bladder was filled with air or warm liquid, but it was liberally greased with something. The girl began moving it slowly up and down wendy’s cock while she moaned from between her Mistress’s legs.
“Remember,” Mistress Abigail warned, “if you cum before I do you will be severely punished… and the chastity cage will go back on for two months.”
It sounded like she answered, “Yes, Mistress,” but it was hard to tell because Mistress Abigail lowered herself the rest of the way down while she was speaking. Mistress Abigail ground herself into wendy’s mouth while the slave girl moved the masturbation sleeve up and down on her prick. Her cock was starting to quiver and it looked like she might be in for some severe punishment, but just before she spurted into the air, Mistress Abigail gave a loud sigh and quivered slightly before standing up and pulling the bottom panel of her catsuit back in place.