Watermelon Display

My hands were held behind me, very high. My wrists were handcuffed. A chain was connected to cuffs pulling at an angle and fixed at the ceiling, making me stand on the balls of my feet. Leaning on the chain, I was increasing the excruciating straining in my shoulders.

I could see reflection of my body on the polished marble floor. A cold neon glare in Mistress Aphrodite's studio made my refection appear pale and lean – almost insubstantial. The reflections of steel chains seemed to have more substance.

I could also see reflections of Mistress Aphrodite's black boots as well as their material counterparts in which she walked around me. A thin crop she was using on me was also well reflected. She lit her cigarette and shook off its ashes at me and blew at the glowing tip. In between ash disposals, she would flick her other wrist – and the crop painfully licked my body, ribcage, chest, back, thighs – and even my filled and plugged ass. Smacks were exploratory, just testing how much I would jerk and scream. Then she would continue to pace around me.

I wanted to scream, but, I could not.

In Mistress Aphrodite's shiny floor I could see the reason for it. It was a pink baby bottle firmly wedged in my mouth, harnessed to my face with a spider hold of leather thongs and steel linksl attaxhed to the same chain holding me. Thus my head was lifted, proudly displaying a baby bottle with my Mistress Nikita's piss in my mouth.

I was doing my best not to imbibe her golden nectar but each stoke of the switch made my jaws squeeze the plastic teat in my mouth and a trickle of warm Mistress-liquid filled it. In spite of my efforts I had to gulp it down.

Somewhere, unseen to me, a timer was ticking. When the buzzer sounded, the bottle would be examined. If it was empty I would be declared an insufferable glutton for anything having a Source in my Mistress. I would be also declared disobedient and worthless of honors bestowed on me and would be punished accordingly.

Matching a pink hue of the bottle was a pink butt plug in my ass. It held in a pee enema. It was administered by my Mistress before we arrived at Mistress Aphrodite's studio. We were here for my display and possible amusement of the Mistresses.

So, the amusement toy was holding in Mistress's pee from both sides and hoping it will stay in there forever.

Two other Mistresses, their slaves, and my Mistress sat in tall wicker chairs, observing me. The chairs had visible endoskeletons of steel, as did their eyes. They showed mild interest.

The main source of humiliation was the fact that I was helplessly aroused by being the display. My pink-ringed dick was standing at attention, despite my desperate need to piss. Occasional gushes of pee in my mouth increased that need – as was fitting.

My torturously filled balls felt like tightly packed watermelons,.and my sperm was filling them with a very little hope of release. That was fitting for a ga,eboy on display.

** ** **

That very afternoon I was kneeling, offering her a glass pitcher. The yellow liquid in it was reflected in her reading glasses.

My Mistress Nikita leaned back on the table and spread her magnificent, bare legs ... just a little. Her skirt was riding high. Her worshipful pussy released its golden stream, adding to pee already in the pitcher. I was supposed to look only at it, but I could not resist sneaking peek previews of her bare pussy. (At least, I was hoping they were previews – perhaps it was all I would get of the Source.)

After she was done, I placed the pitcher on the floor by her slippered feet, pushed my face forward, and puckered my lips. Mistress Nikita pressed her pussy on my face, using my offered lips to wipe itself. I did not move. I was a pussy wipe, used – not the one to use. Leftover urine on her pussy was very much a no-no. One of many no-nos.

I felt another pang of the piss-need and shivered, practicing 'kegels', my forehead furrowing. As she urinated, my need to do the same grew. I was not allowed to do so and all my ringed dick could do was twitch. In fact, I had to drink a glass of water immediately after she freely released her elixir. It was a reminder of our respective places in the cosmic order of things. I did not know the exact purpose of the urine game. The toilet has no need for that information.

I was told beforehand she will be taking me to Mistress Aphrodite for display and a demonstration. I did not need to be told what would happen if I – gods forbid – put my Mistress to shame by not being a perfect scandalous display and a willing and grateful toy for the Mistresses. My eagerness will be on display too.

It was almost the first time Mistress Nikita was displaying me. Now she pronounced me ready.

Finally, she turned her attention to my need to piss. After yet another of my shivering seizures she noted my twitching dick and retracting balls and said:

"You are a quite massive doggie. I think that dixie is too small for such a massive doggie...a needy doggie!"

"Yes Mistress, I am a very needy doggie."

"Perhaps the doggie needs to be filled with something first...filled from both sides."

I do not like enemas.

"I don't like dirty pets – if you are holding your STUFF in, I want your second entrance filled too."

"Yes Mistress."

"My pee enema will be appropriate for the cleansing of a piss-holding slut."

We repaired to the bathroom. Reverently carrying the almost full pitcher, and crawling on all fours was a balancing act I was learning fast.

I had to kneel, legs open, with my cheek on cold tiles. I was looking sideways in the big mirror, seeing myself offered, my ass high in the air – outthrust towards my Mistress.

I had to spread my smoothly shaved ass with my hands. She announced it will not be a hot or a cold enema – it will be HER temperature enema. It was an appropriate honor – her liquid finding its deserved rest inside me, doing its cleansing job.

Saying that she wanted my bat and balls out of the way she produced a small wooden humbler and squeezed it up a notch. Its wooden arms gripped my thighs just bellow the ass cheeks. My enclosed dixie was pointed downwards.

She siphoned the yellowish liquid from the pitcher in the douche bulb. As the wide nozzle approached my hole she realized I was having trouble opening up for her.

She turned the humbler to the right and I whimpered. She twisted it to the left and this time I really screamed. She beamed her 'music-for-my-ears' smile.

"Piss-boy is not willing to open up for me?"

Her favorite hairbrush made its appearance and reintroduced its flat surface on my ass. Blows echoed it the bathroom. She smacked me hard, insisting that I 'open up for her" as I struggled to stay in position. Finally, my ass decided to cooperate and my anal muscles relaxed (because of or despite the smacks).

Then she offered me the enema nozzle to moisten. I sucked on it like a good wench and tasted her pee.

Surprisingly it went in easily. My ass greeted it. Mistress Nikita pushed the big nozzle in my anus and squeezed hard. I had to bite my lips not to move away as she started pumping me.

After the first volume went in, she again offered me the nozzle just taken out of my asshole.

She filled the bulb several times, pushing it ever deeper it seemed. She was observing my face in the mirror. All the time and I stared at her narrow hand squeezing that dark bulb in my asshole.

After the third dose she slapped the butt plug in, signaling the pee enema.

She said I will be on the display like that. The butt plug will be holding her pee in and I will be holdings back MY pee.

My balls felt like a set of tightly tied watermelons in a desperate and hopeless need of a release. It was very fitting.

******

When Mistress Nikita and her display toy arrived at Mistress Aphrodite's studio, the other Mistresses were not there yet.

She had said, "Make me proud in front of other Mistresses, toy boy. You do not want to disappoint me."

Mistress Nikita wore a black bustier with nipples peeking over the top. High heeled sandals straps were wound up high on her calves. She has spiked red hair with big earrings and a face that teeters between impish schoolgirl to a demanding and disciplinary Mistress with a real sadistic streak.

She set me in the access corridor, in front of the door. I was kneeling and had to wank my ringed dick. I had to do it slowly and ceremoniously. In fact, Mistress Nikita set a placard around my neck proclaiming: "WANKBOY AT WORK."

I had to hold the pee filled baby bottle in the not-wanking hand. I had to stare at the object of my desire with passion and burning yearning. Mistress Nikita wanted me drooling, licking my lips, and wanking salaciously at the piss bottle.

Mistress Aphrodite though it amusing and set one of her slaves opposite me, wanking too. We were a dis-honorary wank-guard at the door.

Finally, other Mistresses arrived in flurry of black capes, latex, leather, boots, metal, darkly painted lips and wicked or disdainful smiles. They led their mostly naked slaves, puppy boys and girls, on chains or leashes. There was even one schoolgirl on a leash, blindfolded, her arms in a binder.

And the first sight they saw was – Mistress Nikita's lecherous and shameless wanking pissboy. Some of the Mistresses snorted or were indifferent – their scorn and disdain flashing over me, making my shame rise to yet unattained level. Yet, to each of them I managed to stammer the required greeting:

"This shameless wank bitch humbly offers his submissive passion and welcomes you to Mistress Aphrodite's mansion. Please enjoy your stay."

Mistress Beatrice actually laughed and slapped me playfully with her long, red-nailed fingers. I did not dare stop wanking - nor did I want to.

"Shameless wank bitch indeed! What's more you are a plugged bitch. I wonder where that piss in a baby bottle will end."

She laughed again and her slaps grew more vicious.

"I just might enjoy my stay here if you prove to be such a diligent, wanton bitch as you claim to be. Perhaps watching you on the display will be worth my time, gameboy."

But later, when I was on the display she did not seem to enjoy herself.

It took the Mistresses over an hour to gather in the display saloon. They had much to discuss and the slaves had to perform preliminary scenes. For me that hour was filled with wanking and escalating need to let my piss go out. The problem was: the piss-filed bladder belonged to my Mistress Nikita. The piss filling my colon belonged to her even more. So both piss filled containers stayed closed. That was fitting.

The Mistresses did not seem too amused or even interested as they watched Mistress Nikita's peeboy on display. Of course, it might have been the Mistress' poise. Their faces seemed closed and impassive. There was some light in Mistress Nikita's eyes. (Was it concern? I hoped not.) The hint of a smirk was frozen on Mistress Beatrice's mouth. Her hand idly stoked the bald head of the male slave kneeling by her chair. The female one was chasing the tip of her boot with her tongue as Beatrice swung her legs crossed.

Mistress Aphrodite was busy with me.

She walked around me, her long lean muscles moving lazily above and below the black leather corset. She was using her crop on my torso and ass and nastily erect dixie. Her cigarette ashes flew, its burning point getting dangerously near and then ascending towards my face. She blew smoke in my face and tauntingly waved the long Marlboro in front of it – all the while whipping my plugged ass. I could not sway on my chains as much as I wanted to.

But the Mistress' jury was not entertained. The display seemed too ordinary. And that did not make Mistress Nikita happy. I knew she was getting furious. My sub-heart was sinking. Her moods were the only thing keeping me from getting lost in the subspace.

The buzzer echoed in the bare room.

Mistress Aphrodite pulled the baby bottle from my mouth. A string of spittle from my lips followed the plastic teat. (Was it only spit? I wonder.) She checked the mark and, sure enough, the level of pee was below it. I proved to be a piss glutton.

"You ARE a greedy little piss dog. Not happy with piss filling you front and back. You just HAD to suckle that beautiful piss, didn't you?"

I just stared, gasping for air, still feeling the mellow piss taste in my mouth and throat. (It was NOT acrid or bitter. It was highly cultivated urine. It was my Mistress Nikita's piss – hot, sweet, and exalted.)

"Answer me, you insolent bitch!"

Her long black-stockinged and booted leg flashed and the boot tip connected with my swollen balls. I screamed and swayed on my chain. My legs bucked and my feet slid vainly on the smooth floor. She let my thrashing subside. . Then she grabbed my chin. Her dark eyes were flashing with an overbearing force and the full panted lips turned down in a taunting sneer.

"You are an insatiable bitch, aren't you?"

"Yes Mistress I am."

"You just have to swill and swallow your Mistress's mysterious emanations, don't you?'

"Yes Mistress I do."

"In fact don't you crave any Mistresses' cunt juice...ANY juice?"

"Yes Mistress. Any juice."

"AND you will do any degrading thing for a chance to have that piss consuming experience.' . "Yes Mistress I will."

"What a greedy piss whore. A piss dog! Dog's guzzle their piss, don't they?"

"Yes Mistress they do."

"Say it!"

"Yes Mistress, I guzzle piss and plead to cum while I do it."

"And then you want to piss on yourself while enjoying your pathetic cum.'

"Yes Mistress of course I do. Thank you."

"Oh what an insatiable self-degrading doggie-boy you are. You are more doggy-like that a real dog."

"Yes Mistress I am."

"And dogs lick their cum filled balls, don't they?"

"Ahmmm .... "I swallowed a huge lump. A strong pang of humiliation-head sent me further into space's stratosphere. "Yes Mistress they do."

"And they voraciously lick their little cocks too?"

"Yes Mistress, they do."

"Hungry little cock suckers..."

"So a gameboy is a pissboy too."

Feeling like hard watermelons, my balls twitched, clashed, and tried to escape inside my body in a fit of anticipatory dread. It was very fitting indeed.

*** *** ***

I was squirming on the polished floor like a trussed eel... a sweat-slimy garden worm writhing in front of Mistress Aphrodite's throne-like wicker chair. She was looking down at me. Her downward gaze was joined by my Mistress Nikita and other Mistresses stabbing me with their knowledge of me, pinning me like a worm that I was.

Mistress Aphrodite's floor was so highly polished that I was squirming above my reflection, staring deep in it. Not even the floor offered protection to me. Instead of shielding me it offered another picture of me trying to bend in and suck my worm cock.

A worm? No, not a worm. A dog. A dog whore attempting to suck its futilely hardened dick...attempting and failing miserably.

My hands were still tied behind my back. I was writhing and slipping on the Mistress Aphrodite's floor, twisting and turning from side to side. A bad doggie trying vainly to reach or suck his own bad cock. I just did not seem to be nimble enough for it. And this was an exercise Mistress Nikita was pushing me through. I already managed to touch my dixie with my lips in her training room. I was unable to do so now. The sinking feeling grew stronger. I knew I was embarrassing and failing her.

I finally managed to prop my torso up and swing my legs head over heels. My feet touched the floor above my head. The butt plug in my ass almost popped out and I had to grip it hard with my sphincter. I tried to reach my cock tantalizingly hanging and pulsing some three inches above my head. It could have been three miles.

Pain was invading my shoulders and stiff arms. It shot up and down my torturously bent spine and almost cut my neck. My head swam painfully and my vision darkened – but my mouth was still striving upwards and making suckling motions. I felt a hard pillow pushed under my torso and under my head, supporting me. Mistress Nikita took care of her slave toy. Ruined toy is not worth anything, anyway.

I saw her face appear windowed between my half spread legs. Mistress Nikita did not look angry. Rather she had a look of a Madonna painting – showing a compassionate understanding of a naughty child. Her voice spoke otherwise.

"So you will not suck your own dixie for me? Is it too short and cannot reach your mouth? Nasty disobedient slave. Do you need a helping foot of your Mistress?"

I felt the sole of her shoe burying itself in my caned ass. Her high heel dug in the butt plug base. She leaned forward, pressing me down with all her weight. I gasped.

My mouth was miming a sucking, my lips gulping the air like a fish but the closest contact I could achieve with my own dick was a strand of precum slowly elongating towards my waiting mouth. It was swaying and dripping in front of my face as my Mistress pushed my ass forward and down.

But, it was too short and I was not flexible enough to wrap my lips around it. Perhaps I was unwilling to take my cock in my mouth. I hoped not. My need to do what My Mistress wanted was stronger than whatever reservations I had towards sucking my own cock. She was demanding of me to do it and I was desperately trying to become self-felatrix in public – that was cosmic order of things.

My balls stuck out like over-inflated balloons and felt like huge cantaloupes. They were tied up and too inflated to hang down. Mistress Nikita's face was solemn and she was biting the tip of her tongue like a schoolgirl deeply immersed in her homework. Her brow knit as her concentration turned into disappointment and anger.

"So my dog just will not extend itself to suck its dick for me. Well, I will give you a chance to piss in your mouth for me – if you really, really beg for it in public, in front of my friends and their slaves. See, I am in a good mood. You can at least can put some heart in that begging, can't you, doggie?"

My throat constricted. I froze, my heart was beating madly. Pissing in my mouth was not that unusual. Even begging for it was not that unusual – although much harder. Doing it while on display pushed my heart into my throat. My dixie waxed harder. It was a reminder of our respective places in the cosmic order of things.

What's more, I knew that my burning need to piss could not find release just then. I was too hard for it. And, somehow, this undefined dread made me clench my urethra even more. Or, so I imagined. I also felt that any amount of begging will be fulfilled at this moment. It was only in her cruel, sweet hands. And that was quite fitting.

I croaked, "Please Mistress let me piss myself."

Mistress Nikita did not even deign to say how unsatisfactory it was. She just waited, her eyes growing wider and darker on her face. I saw between my legs, above my trussed up balls. That was fitting too. Mistress Aphrodite's face appeared beside hers. She was toying with her Marlboro, the corners of her mouth rising disdainfully as she watched the squirming piss mouse. On the side I noticed the shiny black page boy coiffure of Mistress Beatrice. Four slaves were standing beside her. I was surrounded by a circle of eyes, pinning me, daring me to beg, or not to beg as the case may be.

"Please Mistress allow me to discharge my piss in my unworthy mouth."

"Yes?" She asked.

"Please Mistress – let me... MAKE me pee. The only place where it should go is waiting. It is my mouth."

"Hmmm ..." She pondered.

"Please Mistress direct my piss in my mouth. Liberate It!! Please! Set it free! PLEASE!"

I was bawling now. The circle of eyes pinning me grew insistent. My Mistress Nikita's eyes remained doubtful and curious. The green irises seemed to turn into tunnels red emptiness. The red of hell. The red of burning I was feeling in my dick.