Every One in the Room

When they pulled up to Mistress Evangeline's playpen—built on the site of an old farmhouse on a few acres of wooded fields—Miss Lee ordered Paul to strip as soon as he got out of the car.

"Yes, Miss Lee." He opened the door and stepped out without question. Shielding himself from view with the car door, he removed his clothes quickly, until the only item left on his body was the one thing he couldn't remove: the light, but surprisingly secure, cock cage Miss Lee had placed on him months ago.

They'd received the invitation from Miss Lee's mentor weeks ago, announcing the date of this party, and immediately cleared their schedules for enough time to travel here and attend, and spend several days afterward for Paul to recover.

"Where shall I put my clothes, Mistress?"

"Leave them on the seat."

He did as he was told, folding them neatly and stacking them one on top of the other on his seat. He couldn't help but glance around at the trees that ringed the periphery of the land.

"Don't worry," she said. "Nobody can see you from the road." Then, with a half-smile: "Not unless they knew exactly where to look."

In the cool air of the late October afternoon, carrying Miss Lee's toy bag, Paul felt even more naked and exposed than when his cock was was free. It swelled against the insides of his cage as they walked the stone path to Mistress Evangeline's front door. His pulse quickened, and he felt the faint quivering in his stomach like he did all those times long ago: the first time he saw a picture of a woman pissing in a man's mouth; the first time he'd paid a woman to beat his ass and slap his balls while he jacked off; and his first date with a girl named Lee, when she took him up to her apartment and ordered him to kneel.

Lee, now Miss Lee, interrupted his musings. "You do everything I say tonight, and I'll let you take the cage off." A flash of hope crossed his face, but then he gave her a look of suspicion.

She smiled. "Yes, you can take the cage off and fuck, jerk it, anything you want to get yourself off, for twelve full hours." She winked at him, a gesture she made when she granted him special privileges, and with that wink, Paul knew she was serious. "I'll even blow you if you ask nicely."

He wondered how much he would have to endure this night to earn his privilege. Mistress Evangeline enjoyed torturing men. She saw males as her inferiors, and showed no hesitation when beating them, fucking their asses, or clamping their balls in a vise and tightening it until they cried "mercy".

And Miss Lee, although she was a gentler Domme, would follow her mentor's lead. She would show him no pity tonight, and would push him harder than she ever did alone. Not that she was easy with him, but the welts and bruises she left with him always did fade away after a week or two. Tonight would be something else entirely.

Still, he thought, that wink. If I hold up my end of the bargain, she'll hold up hers. So he resolved to endure anything.

The front door was an immense oak monstrosity with a small iron-crossed window in the center and brass fixtures. Mistress Evangeline had made a small fortune, some of it from her knowledge of the stock market, much of it from men who had simply donated it willingly for the chance to be used by her. "It was never what they expected," he'd heard her tell Miss Lee once before, "But they never left disappointed."

Paul raised the enormous brass ring and clapped it against the door, two short pauses between knocks, one longer, two more short, two more long. The door opened, and there stood Mistress Evangeline, flanked by two male servants. She was shorter than Paul, but in her boots and with the regal posture she assumed, she could have been nine feet tall. "Miss Lee", she said, giving her a warm hug and a warmer smile. "Yours was the first RSVP I was hoping to receive. Come in."

Miss Lee went in, and motioned for Paul to follow, but Mistress Evangeline waved one finger and her boy slaves blocked the way. "In the thirteen years I've owned this place," she said, "no male has crossed the threshold, even once, on his feet."

Miss Lee knodded. "On all fours, now," she called out over he shoulder. "Enter the household of your superior on your hands and knees."

The playhouse was a monument to Female Superiority. Mistress Evangeline was a connoisseur of Female Supremacist artwork. A dozen alcoves lined the sides of the main hall; each one contained sculptures showing women in various triumphant poses standing over defeated men. The surrounding halls were decorated with photographs on naked men kneeling, or lying, or bent over, each submissively offering his body for the onlooker's pleasure. One hall simply had photographs of men's genitalia, the balls or the shaft grasped firmly in a woman's hand, pulling or twising or digging her nails into them.

("Those are Mistress Evangeline's own hands," said Miss Lee.)

The main room was an engine of sadism, with crosses, benches, cages, and suspension blocks arranged so that, from almost any angle, a woman could look from one of the several small tables that marked the perimeter of the floor and see all the various torments being played out there. Some of the mistresses had not seen each other since last year's party, so they bonded over the spectacle of the men's suffering and humiliation.

Just for the entertainment of her sisters, a Mistress would summon a slave to their table to serve them drinks, then spit in his face with a mouthful of water or strap his backside as he crawled away. Two women took bets that they could make each other's slave cry mercy before their own, and so the males, loath to disappoint their owners, suffered harsh whippings that turned their torso and legs into a mass of purple and red welts.

Paul felt grateful that he was mostly ignored, although Miss Lee did call him to the floor to demonstrate her caning skills and his bootlicking finesse. But while he was taking the harsh strokes across his ass, he looked over to see a standing board with three targets painted on it, and, portruding through holes where the bulls-eye's would be, three sets of cock and balls. Women were taking turns firing small pins into the genitalia with toy blow-guns.

By the stroke of one, only Miss Lee, Mistress Evangeline, a young and unattached woman whom Paul learned was named Kaitlyn, and one of Mistress Evangeline's slaves were in the main room. The other slaves were busy washing up in the other room, or had been dismissed to the cages to sleep.

Miss Lee, sitting up on the dais, turned to Mistress Evangeline. "Did I tell you, Mistress, of the deal I made with my slave?"

"You didn't. Although I should point out, you shouldn't have to make a deal with your inferiors."

"Of course, Mistress," she said. "But I had a change of heart for the poor thing."

"I made a deal," she continued, "that if he obeyed me in everything tonight, I would take him out of his chastity cage and let him cum. And now that it's come to the end of the night, I have just one last order for him to fulfill."

Her voice turned commanding. "Slave. Get over here and listen to your final order."

Paul crawled in front of the dais, aware now that all eyes were on him. No other activity diluted their attention, and that realization made him feel more naked and powerless than ever before.

"Yes, Miss Lee," he said, "What would you have your slave do?"

Miss Lee looked at Kaitlyn, then at Mistress Evangeline. "I want you to lick ass, slave."

"Whose ass would you have me lick, Miss Lee?"

"Everyone's. Everyone in this room. Lick all the assholes in this room, and I'll take you out of your chastity and let you cum in any manner you choose."

He sized up the task. One male slave, two mistresses, and a woman whose connection he was still uncertain of. Perhaps she was a friend of Mistress Evangeline's in the everyday world, someone contemplating the lifestyle. Four assholes to lick. He could do that.

"And no quick poke of the tongue, either," said Miss Lee. "I want your tongue deep up in there for at least two minutes each."

"Yes, Miss Lee. May I choose where to start?"

"Go ahead, slave."

"I choose the other slave, Roy."

Paul was not into men, although he showed no hesitation whenever Miss Lee ordered him to suck cock, or in times past when she would allow him to cum watching gay porn.

Best get the least appealing part of the job done first, he thought.

"Slave," said Mistress Evangeline, nodding her head to the other present male, "put your hands on the wall and present your backside to Miss Lee's boy for him to lick."

"Yes, Mistress." Roy, like all of Mistress Evangeline's slaves, was lean, well-toned, and shaved completely hairless from the neck down. He strode over to the wall, widened his stance, placed his palms out against the varnished wood wall, and thrust his muscular ass out at Paul.

Paul crawled over to him, his face in line with Roy's waiting ass. He placed his hands on the two halves, pulling them aside. Roy's hairlessness extended even there, a fact for which Paul gave silent thanks.

He licked Roy's asshole. He ran his tongue up and down the tight hole, pushing in as best he could. He felt Roy relax his anus, and finally pushed his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and up into his rectum. It tasted of the cocoa butter oil he'd lubed it up when Mistress Evangeline ordered him to run the peg race.

Paul could feel the moment Roy's cock hardened, and when Mistress Evangeline gave her assent, he felt when Roy started stroking his cock. He kept his tongue up the other slave's asshole, but he tried not to excite him too much: it seemed like Roy was doing that job well enough himself, with his grunts and his moans, and he didn't want him to spill over before the two minutes were over.

But, before long, he felt Roy's ass clench, and felt it pulsate, signaling the waves of pleasure coursing through his cock. His cum hit the wall with an audible, wet splatter. He hoped fervently that the two minutes had passed.

Paul heard laughter. "Oh, my God," said an unfamiliar voice. It must have been Kaitlyn's. "That is the funniest thing I've ever seen." He realized she must truly be new to the scene; he had grown accustomed to the sight of men performing any acts their owners demanded. Somehow, knowing that he was being watched by a fresh pair of eyes amplified his humiliation, and his cock strained harder against its cage.

Miss Lee spoke up. "Time, boy."

Paul kept licking for a couple of seconds to be sure, then leaned back. He saw Roy's asshole gape for a couple of seconds, until a final, post-orgasmic clench closed him up.

"Boy," said Mistress Evangeline, "Make sure these floors and walls are cleaner now than when they came in."

"Yes, mistress," said Roy, and proceeded to lick his cum from the floor, tracing his way up to the wall.

At this point, Paul realized Kaitlyn was filming this on her phone. He knew better than to object, though, even though he knew the footage could be uploaded in moments, and anyone Kaitlyn chose to share it with would see his face between another man's muscular cheeks, his tongue desperately probing deeper into his ass.

"Kaitlyn," said Miss Lee. "Did you want me to record it while Paul licks your asshole?"

"What!?" Kaitlyn put her phone down. "Oh, no. No. I just came here to watch today, I didn't expect to take part in anything. No."

"Too bad for you, slave," said Miss Lee. "You won't get to cum. Understand?"

"Yes, Miss Lee." Paul knew better than to look dismayed, or to let the slightest hint of disappointment show in his voice. But even so, a tiny bead of precum had escaped the tip of his cock, and his entire shaft felt the dull ache of that crushed expectation.

"But you still need to lick my asshole. And Mistress Evangeline's."

"Yes, Miss Lee. Whom shall I service first?"

"Mistress Evangeline, would you like to take him next?"

"Thank you, Miss Lee," said Mistress Evangeline, her voice soft, speaking as Miss Lee as a longtime friend and equal. But her tone turned sharp and stern when she spoke to Paul. "Slave, get down on the ground. I'm going to sit on your face. I want you to lick my asshole while I use this."

And with that, she reached into a bag next to her seat, filled with paddles and floggers and implements of steel and leather, and pulled out a smallish white vibrator. The shaft narrowed to a point no wider than a pencil, and Paul remembered her preference for clitoral orgasms.

He lay down, his mouth open, awaiting her. She strode over him, her backside facing his feet, and lowered her ass onto his mouth, her hairless pussy rubbing up against his nose. He heard the flick of a switch, and the light hum of a vibrator right above his forehead. Mistress Evangeline grunted slightly as she touched the tip to her clit.

Paul stuck his tongue out, and licked around her hole, probing it tentatively, hoping to gauge her response and give her as much pleasure as possible. Mistress Evangeline responded by pushing her backside hard against his face, so that his mouth formed a seal around her entire asshole.

He sucked until it swelled into his mouth, and her hole opened around his tongue, demanding he push in deeper. Paul wondered if she had had ever put anything in her ass except for a man's tongue, and decided it was not likely. But her hole was loose enough, probably from the multiple tongue-probings her man-slaves had given her over the years.

She bore down heavily, and Paul had to struggle to time his breaths to those fractions of a second when she rocked back, clearing a space over his nose for him to breathe, He didn't dare try to push her off, no matter how much he might want air. He knew what Mistress Evangeline was doing. Even more than pleasuring herself, she was testing him to see if Miss Lee had trained him properly.

And she had, he resolved. I'll pass out with my tongue still up her asshole if I have to, thought Paul, but he wouldn't fail Miss Lee.

Mistress Evangeline felt this, and decided to bear her entire weight down on his face. Paul's jaw felt sore from the pressure, but he kept licking, his tongue deep up her asshole, his nose up her cunt, which was growing more slick by the moment.

She started stabbing the vibrator against her clit, and Paul hoped that signified her orgasm was getting close. But he knew it was orchestrated, a display. She wasn't doing this just for her pleasure. She wasn't even doing it to test Miss Lee. She was showing Kaitlyn that women deserved pleasure, and that a woman could take it from a man without owing anything in return. She showed it in the exaggerated thrusts of the vibrator, in the way she pressed down so hard on his face, and in the grunts and sighs she gasped out as she grew closer.

Finally, she held the vibrator tight against her clit, and Paul felt the contractions in her pussy, in her thighs, and in the clenching of her asshole around his tongue. She was coming. She let out a brazen cry of triumph and satisfaction as she continued grinding her pussy and ass against his face. It wasn't so tight against his face anymore, and he could take in a few breaths as she rubbed her crotch all over his face.

"Fuck," she said. "That was good. But now I need to piss."

"Boy," said Miss Lee, "offer your services."

Paul collected himself, then opened his mouth wide under Mistress Evangeline. She straddled his face again, pulling her pussy lips apart, but this time only to expose her urethra over him.

Kaitlyn giggled. "You mean, you're really going to pee in his mouth?"

"Not going to," said Mistress Evangeline, and relaxed herself over him. "I'm doing it right now."

And she did. She sighed as her muscles relaxed, and aimed a thin stream into his mouth. Piss filled his mouth, the trickling growing louder as the level rose almost to the height of his lips.

"Drink."

Paul swallowed her warm piss without closing his mouth, grateful that Miss Lee had trained him perform that act. It sent a thrill through his cock, but he knew that we wouldn't be cumming any time soon. His cage bounced twice as his cock strained against it.

Then he heard Kaitlyn giggle, and humiliation surged through him like a cool wave. He'd swallowed Miss Lee's piss several times, even in front of other women. But never had he done it in front of a stranger, someone who'd found his submission so novel and amusing as Kaitlyn had. The freshness of her perspective drove home the point to him, how deeply submissive and obedient he was to his owner.

Then Kaitlyn said, "Can I take a picture?"

"Certainly," said Mistress Evangeline, and Paul was aware of the girl moving somewhere close to his torso, crouching low to get the best angle on his face.

She released her piss again, filling his mouth three more times with her warm piss, and he swallowed it all without spilling or interrupting her flow. Finally came the last spurts, and a few drops that fell from Mistress Evangeline's pussy. "Now clean me," she said.

Paul carefully licked her pussy lips clean, trying not to tempt her again by teasing her clit or probing her pussy. Just lick and suck the piss off of her cunt lips, and be done. He licked one last salty drop from the tip of her labia when she pronounced it a job well done.

"Oh my God," said Kaitlyn, laughter in her voice. "How do you get guys to do that?"

"It's simple, really," said Mistress Evangeline, rising from Paul's face with a hand from her slave. "A certain percentage of men realize the basic truth of human existence: that women are their social and intellectual superiors, and the greatest role a male can strive to fill is that of servant to a dominant female.

"Once that happens, it's not long before they seek one out. A smart domme can have her slave eating out of her fingers in no time." She looked down at Paul, who was still lying face up on the ground. "Or, for that matter, drinking out of her piss hole."

A long pause followed. Then, with a little hesitation in her voice, Kaitlyn said: "I—I'd like to give that a try."

Paul tried not to let his excitement show, but his heart raced and the dull ache grew at the base of his cock. Now there was a chance Miss Lee would let his cock out of its cage. Did Kaitlyn know about his deal with Miss Lee? Was this back-and-forth all a mindfuck? Miss Lee was fond of them.

Mistress Evangeline said she could.

"Can I do it behind that?" She asked, pointing to a counter, behind which some ropes and rigging tools were stored. "I don't want everybody watching, but I want everyone to know it's happening."

"However you like, dear," said Miss Lee, then snapped her fingers and pointed to the counter.

Paul understood. He crawled over without a word, went behind the , and turned around to face Kaitlyn, close behind him. She looked at him with a half-concealed laugh, then turned around and pulled her jeans and underwear down to her knees, and half-squatted, her hand on the counter to steady herself, her ass thrust straight at Paul's face.

"Now tell him to do it, Kaitlyn," said Mistress Evangeline. "I'll bet you'll be surprised at the thrill you get from ordering a man to submit."

"What do I call him?"

"Just call him slave," said Miss Lee.

Turning her head ever so slightly, but not looking down at him, Kaitlyn gave the order. "Slave, lick my asshole." She giggled a little again, but to Paul it was serious business. He worked his face between her ample cheeks and probed her anus with his tongue.

Apparently it tickled her, as she clenched and pulled away for a second, but then pressed back against Paul's face. "Keep going, slave."

Paul kept his tongue on her tight hole, licking gently, teasing it open. But his mind was racing with the thought of cumming before too long. He worked his tongue up into her hole, slowly so as not to surpries or threaten her.