As I lay there on the floor in my panties soaked with urine and pussy juice, I realized that she hadn't set a date for our next meeting as she always did. Did this mean I was done? Had I graduated? Would she be like my previous Domme, Toc, and move on to train someone new? I still swear they were sisters. I was frankly relieved at this thought. I didn't hear from her the next day, or the day after that, and every day I didn't hear from her was fine with me. Although the depth of her sadism and domination was too deep for me to resist, I'd had enough of her shit to last a lifetime (literally, sadly).
But just as I was getting used to putting this in my past...
It had been about a month since my "abduction" with Kit-5 at the Portland airport, and I was still trying to process what it meant to me, when a message from Goddess Angelica showed up in my inbox. She had never messaged me before. Our sole interaction on F*t had been on our first night together, when I'd posted a photo of my butt in my freshly pissed panties, and she'd commented on them. But there it was. I clicked on it, and the message read:
Goddess Angelica: I will need you for the weekend of the 14
th
. You'll need to take the Friday & Monday off. Take the train up to Chicago. I will meet you inside Union Station at 12 noon.
That was the weekend after next. I had a little over a week to convince myself that I wasn't going to be on that train. I did a pretty good job of it too, until Friday morning, when I found myself packing. What was I thinking? Why was I doing this? Was my need to be dominated and used in extremely degrading ways so powerful that I couldn't say no to anything? Or was it the curiosity? I'd only ever met her for nights in her hotel suite, and never even spent the night. So what would Goddess Angelica want with me for a whole weekend? And how much would I regret finding out?
Goddess Angelica met me as I got off the train with a big hug and a kiss in front of everyone. She used the hug to reach in and cup my crotch and give it a little squeeze. Then she picked up my bag as if I were her woman and led me out to her car. We drove to the airport, and there was Kit-5 waiting for us outside the terminal. We drove in relative silence after that, with me in the passenger seat and Kit-5 alone in the back. Kit-5 and I hadn't seen or heard from each other since that abduction experience in Oregon. The sound of classical music filled the void, and complimented the pastoral surroundings as we drove into the country.
We pulled up to a huge houseboat moored on a lake. Not the great lakes, of course. This was a smaller lake, much better for recreational purposes. I could see boats and water-skiing out in the distance, and lake houses on the shores of the other side. There were a number of cars parked along the boathouse. We took our things, and Goddess Angelica led us up the ramp onto the houseboat. It was marvelous inside, inspired by the old riverboats, no doubt, with lots of red velvet curtains and comfy upholstered furniture. There were a number of people milling about, maybe 10 or 15. It looked like any sort of a mixer, with most people dressed upscale casual. Well, lesbian mixer. There were only two men in the room. It could have even been a munch. Goddess Angelica embraced a number of women while we stood behind her silently, waiting for an introduction. It never came, of course. Other people filtered in as she mingled while we followed. A tall thin male server strolled through the crowd with a tray of wine and water glasses. He looked like he could have been that Captain Obvious from the TV commercials with his rapidly balding hair. Goddess Angelica helped herself to wine, but limited Kit-5 and I to water. As I sipped, I noticed other women doing the same thing with their companions.
The water kept coming. After Kit-5 and I had taken a sip, Goddess Angelica would give us a stern look, so we would drink our water down until it was done, then she would grab another glass for us from the server. I noticed this playing out all over the room. I looked around while Goddess Angelica talked to her friends, catching up. I was starting to figure out who was who regarding roles, and went to sizing up the crowd. The only other man besides the server was a young male slave. He seemed to be part of a pair with a girl, really. They were college age, studious looking, wearing that college combination of designer and thrift-store. They looked even younger than Kit-5. College Boy was tall and gangly, with kind of scraggly hair and a 5:00 shadow that had probably been growing for two days. College Girl was shorter. She wore glasses, and had her mousy brown hair bundled at the nape of her neck, with her bangs covering most of her forehead. Another reason they seemed so young: they avoided looking anyone in the eye. Their Mistress looked like she could be their college professor.
There was a young punky looking Latino woman, with a short punky haircut, sleeveless denim jacket with patches and black jeans. She had some muscles, and some piercings. She looked like a butch lesbian, but here she was drinking her water down subserviently. The Mistress who served Butch her water looked like a middle-aged matron with the money to chair endless committees and country clubs. Butch was tall, and towered over her Mistress. I've never seen two people who didn't go together at all in my life like them. Another slave looked like the suburban mom on the block that organized all the fund-raising from the school. Short strawberry blonde hair, mom-jeans and a tasteful blouse. She was June Cleaver for the 21
st
century, the last person you expected to be here. I was absolutely sure she had a husband and 3 kids waiting at home. I wondered what story she told them to get this weekend off. But here, June Cleaver had traded that husband in for a tall curvy black Mistress with quite the ass back there, accentuated by her tight neon purple slacks. They were another in a very odd couple that didn't seem to go together at all.
More people filtered in, until I guess we had all arrived. After everyone was onboard, we set off on the lake, and the party was moved outside. There was an oversized deck on the front of the houseboat. It was a unique design that I'd never seen before. A retractable cover and barriers on the sides covered most of the deck. This turned out to be essential for this trip. A Mistress snapped her fingers, and the server, who was the general servant for the weekend, brought out a tray of collars, leather cuffs and very short chain leashes. My suspicions about who was who were all confirmed, as the Mistresses collared their respective slaves. Our hands were cuffed behind us. The chains were attached to our collars, and we were led to the side of the boat, and pulled down so that our very short leashes could be fastened to hooks on the side-rail. My dress was then lifted up to reveal my panties.
We were all lined up in a row along the rail, bent over so that our noses practically touched the rail, with either our dresses pulled up or our pants pulled down. I could hear the Mistresses behind us sitting down and happily socializing with each other. Occasionally I heard glasses clinking. The wine was flowing. They ignored us, but I knew they were enjoying the view of the legs and underpants of twelve obedient slaves.
As for my view? I had Kit-5 and June Cleaver on either side of me, but mostly what I saw was that great expanse of water down below, as it stretched to the shoreline across the lake. It was calming, peaceful, as the waves gently churned with the sound of the surf and the occasional bird flying low, and...
...Oh my God. As I got into the rhythm of the water, I suddenly became aware of another rhythm going on in my panties. All that water I had drunk, it was starting to wind its inevitable way through my body. My bladder felt full, and I realized I needed to go. I looked back and forth between Kit-5 and June Cleaver. They also had the unmistakable look of women desperately trying had to hold their pee in.
So that was it. We had all been hydrated and lined up to give these sadistic women a show to start their weekend voyage off with. We were going to piss our panties for them.
As soon as that occurred to me, the need to go suddenly increased exponentially. I tried shuffling a bit, but there was nowhere for me to go, and nothing to do. I heard shuffling and whimpers all down the line as the other slaves came to the same conclusion. And there was nothing we could do about it. We were all going to piss our panties. There are no winners in this game...except for the Mistresses of course. As our predicament had increased, their conversation had decreased. College Girl started squealing to be allowed to go in private. But College Professor got up, smacked her butt hard, and whispered menacingly in her ear.
"Don't ever embarrass me like that again. This is what you're here for."
College Girl went back to just shuffling and sniveling. I got the message that talking was verboten. I was getting good at reading the signals of people like this. But I wondered why we hadn't been gagged. I really shouldn't have.
Poor little June Cleaver was just having the most awful time next to me. It was between her and College Girl as far as who was going to crack first. I looked over at Kit-5. She was doing her best to remain stoic. So was I, but it didn't matter how long we lasted. Nobody could hold it forever. This whole situation bothered me, and I couldn't figure out why for the longest time, until it came to me at almost the last second. I had pissed my panties before, sure, but only when I was alone, or the one time with Kit-5. And my toilet use had also only occurred with Goddess Angelica & Kit-5. Also, Kit-5 and I had been made to piss & shit daily in front of Duke & Sado-Chick. But this is the first time I'd ever been revealed as a toilet slut in front of a crowd of people I'd never even met before. This was a new level of humiliation, so low, but...if I'm being honest, it was also kind of hot.
The first dam burst as soon as I came to that conclusion. June Cleaver lost her fight, and I heard that singular sound of panties filling up with urine. I also smelled it. Her whimpering had progressed to tears, and she looked to me for empathy, but...then it slowly changed to a bit of a contented look on her face, like a happy cow. The ordeal was over now. She had been revealed as submissive little toilet slave who pisses her panties in front of all these people, and it was best to just get on with it.
There were whoops & hollers from the Masters & Mistresses. From what I could gather, money changed hands via Venmo. They'd had a pool to see who cracked first. June Cleaver took her sweet time pissing. She'd drunk quite a bit of water, and really had to go. But all things come to an end. Remarkably, the rest of us were holding on. The shuffling and sniveling was joined by deep grunts from all of us. I really don't know what the point was, but I did it anyway.
When all of June Cleaver's pee was finally out of her body and all over her panties, her Big Black Mistress got up and came over. I struggled to tilt my head down to see what was going on. I saw the Big Black Mistress bend down behind June Cleaver. I heard the sound of mom-jeans being removed, and then Big Black Mistress was back up. She leaned down by June Cleaver's head, pulled June up by her hair, and...
...Shoved those urine-soaked panties right into June Cleaver's mouth! June Cleaver whimpered of course, as her Big Black Mistress pushed them in with her fingers to make sure they weren't going anywhere. Then Big Black Mistress leaned down further to say something to her charge.
"You just lost me a lot of money by folding first, you cheap little cow. I need my money back, and we both know how I'm going to get it."
Whack!
June Cleaver screamed into her panties as the distinctive sound of hard leather collided with her ass. Then another, and then many, many more. Big Black Mistress was taking her loss out of June Cleaver's hide with a hard leather strap. I could tell it hurt by the sound of the impact and June Cleaver's pitiful screams.
Butch was next to go, oddly enough. Her work-jeans were stripped off, the boxers she favored for some reason were shoved in her mouth, her Matronly Mistresses' displeasure was made known, and then she joined June Cleaver in being punished. I found it oddly erotic to hear June Cleaver being punished on one side and that big Butch down the line. But of course, I was struggling myself during all of this, and at some point I had to surrender to the inevitable. Once I started pissing, it felt like I would never end. But when it finally did, my very wet panties were stuffed in my mouth, and I was whipped. I felt so humiliated, so degraded...and so turned on. I could have cum right there. Did the other slaves feel the same way?
Kit-5 lasted the longest of us, finally soiling her panties while the rest of us were screaming from our whippings. This meant that Goddess Angelica, who had two entrants in this game, won the pool. Kit-5's reward was that she didn't have to taste her panties or feel the strap. But of course, rewards here wouldn't last long.
After the wettings and whippings were over, it was time to get down to the real business for why we were all here. The Mistresses unchained us from the deck railing, turned us around, and had us get down on our knees, with our mouths still stuffed with panties (all except Kit-5). Our wrists still cuffed behind us, and the Server chained them to hooks with little chains drilled into the deck. We weren't going anywhere.
The Mistresses conferred amongst each other, pointing at us. Then Goddess Angelica broke away from the group, walked over, and walked down the line of us, looking us all over carefully. Well, all except Kit-5 and I. There was a reason for that, of course. Goddess Angelica touched the other slaves liberally, as if they were property to be handled. She squeezed, caressed, examined, fondled a tit here, fingered a clit there. She even used both hands to pull College Boy's cock out to its full length and run her other hand down the shaft. It literally grew in her hands. I imagine that was a novel thing for her, since I guessed she didn't have much interest in cock. Then she stopped in front of College Girl, and pulled the panties out of College Girl's mouth. The Server was there with a tray to take the discarded panties. Goddess Angelica turned around, dropped her slacks and panties, squatted down, and reached back to spread her cheeks. I heard those familiar words I'd heard before.
