Caroline Takes Charge Ch. 05

"No, no, mercy, please, pretty please, don't let her do this to me," Theresa begged, as Aunty Caroline walked behind my pinioned body.

"Now, now, Theresa," said my aunt, "don't be so silly. Sam here has been at great pains to save her pee pee for you. It would be extremely churlish on your part to refuse to drink it down, wouldn't it, Sam?"

"Yes, it would, aunty," I replied, through gritted teeth when what I really wanted to do was bellow "For fuck's sake let me piddle!"

"So you, see, Theresa, Sam wants you to drink her glorious golden nectar. Now say 'sorry' and we can get on with it," said my teasing aunt.

"Sorry, Sam," said Theresa, in a tiny little voice, from her position just below my minge.

"Didn't hear you, Theresa," snapped Aunty Caroline. "Speak up and beg her for permission to drink her lovely champagne down."

A stifled sob came from the woman below me, then she spoke, far more clearly: "Please, Sam, please let me drink your golden piss, please piss down me, please, I want it!"

"There," said aunty, "that's much better. Now we can get started. Really, Theresa, such a lot of fuss!"

The next thing that happened was Aunty Caroline's lovely long fingernails making contact with my skin, tautened by my position in the flogging frame. They traced from my armpits down my rib cage, sending tingling little thrills through me. It was now, for the first time, that I realised I was extremely ticklish! Aunty's devious tracery continued over my belly, up to my breasts, then into my armpits again. Soon I was writhing and wriggling from her caresses and then, suddenly I felt a great relief in my bladder and I began to piss!

At first it was just a dribble, as if my system had shut down from the hours of denial and was reluctant to let go, but then with a relief that was massive, my release gushed into one long, steady stream.

Theresa beneath me was gulping and gasping and chugging me down for all she was worth until, after some 30 seconds of my flow, it became too much for her and she had to shut her mouth.

Streams of golden fluid flowed down both sides of her mouth onto her chin, down to her breasts, then further south. Aunty Caroline, kneeling beside her, watching intently, snapped: "That spillage will cost you, my darling little piss drinker!"

And Theresa's mouth opened again to receive the last 10 or so seconds of my bladder evacuation. At last I had finished, and I hung, limp and exhausted but infinitely more comfortable.

"Now thank her," snapped Aunty Caroline, and Theresa's response was not spoken.

Her tongue flickered out and traced its way across my piss flaps, down to my cunt, then up to my clitoris. Soon I was wriggling on her face, and then my relief became even more luxurious as my orgasm flooded through my groin and I exploded with delight on the 45-year-old woman's working mouth.

Aunty Caroline then freed Theresa and the two women both unstrapped me from the frame.

"Now, Theresa," said my aunt, "I'm not one who believes in dragging out a slave's suffering. I promised you a punishment for that disgusting spillage just now and Sam will inflict it right now."

Aunty Caroline then took a red rubber bit and bridle from her equipment table and placed the rubber in Theresa's mouth. She then made the woman go down on all fours.

Then she addressed me: "Time for a little ride, darling Sam. Use the crop on her arse and get her to complete a few circuits around the room, then steer her up to my pussy - I've got a little gift for her, as well."

Aunty walked over to a comfortable easy chair, slung both her boot-covered legs over its arms and began to stroke herself, as I climbed aboard the broad back of the naked slave.

I grabbed both ends of the reins together in my right hand, and wielding the riding crop in my left whacked her across her buttocks and spat out about the only equestrian phrase I knew apart from "giddy-up".

"Walk on," I said as the crop made contact with her arse, and the 45-year-old began to make her way in a large circle around the torture chamber, me with my high heels just up from the carpet so she had to work under the full burden of my weight. As we wound our way around, Aunty Caroline was working slowly on her minge, several fingers sometimes disappearing up her lovely gash.

After three circuits, Aunty Caroline called out in a husky voice: "I'm ready for her now, Sam, next time bring her up to my pussy, please."

I flogged the slave several times just for the hell of it during the final lap, then brought the panting woman up to aunty's chair. The aroma of aroused sex flesh was apparent even from where I sat on the slave's back!

I pulled the bit from Theresa's mouth and went to dismount but was dissuaded by my aunt.

"Stay there, Sam," she ordered, "and you can take for another few laps after she's had her refreshment."

I remained seated on the panting woman's back, then watched as aunty slid her buttocks down the seat until her snatch was inches from Theresa's mouth.

"Horsey worsey want drinkies?" Aunty Caroline said, in a girlish, sing-songy voice, which forced me to choke back a peal of laughter.

"Yes, please, Caroline," said Theresa, all pretence of disliking the habit now vanished.

"Open up, then, darling," said aunty, and I watched with fascination as a thick stream of golden amber fluid jetted from aunty's piss slit into Theresa's wide open mouth. It was strong, but nowhere near as long as mine and after some 20 seconds, Theresa was forced to placed her mouth against aunty's minge to lap up the remaining dribbles of piss.

"Lovely," said Aunt Caroline, after her piss, "now you may thank me, darling."

And once more the 45-year-old was forced to perform at a moist, demanding pussy until aunty's cries of ecstasy indicated her climax.

The I resumed riding the lush-breasted, naked slave around the torture chamber, before being ordered to dismount by my aunt, who then placed Theresa, now minus the bathing cap, back into the flogging frame.

"See if she's ready to come, darling," said aunty, shoving a stool in front of Theresa's pussy.

I sat on it and tasted the mature sex slave's wet quim, running my tongue from anus to clit, with several stops in between, and enjoying the lovely taste of sex mingle with the aroma of my piss, from Theresa's spillage.

The 45-year-old soon writhing and bouncing on my mouth, but when it seemed she was about to relish a climax at last, Aunty Caroline indicated to me to stand up.

"Of fucking hell, fucking, fucking hell, you can't do this again, please, Caro, please, this is unbearable," she pleaded.

Aunty then handed me a long flogger with a large, square flap on its end and told me: "You work on her shoulder blades and buttocks. I'm going to finish her off, it's time she had her orgasm!"

I stepped behind the lovely back and buttocks of the magazine publisher and started to work over her shoulder blade region, then her buttocks. The flogger made a delightful "Thwock" noise each time it came into contact with her fevered flesh.

After several strokes had been inflicted by me, Aunty Caroline pulled up a little leather stool and sat in front of Theresa's writhing body.

A low "Mmnnnnh" sound escaped our slave's lips as aunty's mouth pressed up against Theresa's pussy, then Caroline's hands cupped the woman's buttocks, leaving me to concentrate on the shoulder blades for her flogging.

Soon, Theresa was bucking and writhing in her bonds and then, this cultured-sounding woman threshed her way to orgasm with a burst of "Fuckingshit, fuckingshit, fuckingshit" cries, which sounded oddly at variance with her beautifully-modulated speech.

At last she stopped writhing, aunty stood up and I stopped my whip work.

Aunty Caroline planted a long, sweet kiss on Theresa's mouth and smiled at her: "There, darling, and as femdom sessions go, how was that?"

Theresa grinned: "It was absolutely delicious."

Aunty joked: Golden delicious, Theresa?"

We all roared with laughter, and then aunty released Theresa from her bonds. "Theresa and I are going up to the spa pool, darling," Caroline told me. "Be a love and bring a bottle of Krug and three glasses and we'll all have a nice relaxing spa."

Upstairs, I swiftly undressed, then ran down to the fridge and found a tray for the bubbly bottle and three flutes.

Beside the spa, I poured three glasses and stepped into the pool, opposite aunty and Theresa, who were side by side and cuddling, enjoying the occasional smooch.

After a clinking of glasses, Theresa gave be a big, beaming smile and asked: "Well, my dear Sam, and how did you enjoy that little session?"

I sipped on the creamy Krug and admitted: "Very much indeed, I hope I did OK for a beginner?"

Theresa nodded: "Oh yes, you're a natural, you little minx."

"Tell me, though," I asked, "one thing has been puzzling me."

Theresa arched her eyebrows in question. "Shoot, my dear."

"Well," I said. "aunty told me that you were a devotee for piss punishments, by which I took to mean golden showers or golden cocktails."

Theresa nodded: "Very much so, sometimes both, I must confess."

"Well, " I pressed on, "what if you really hadn't wanted to drink me, but only wanted a golden shower? How did aunty know to make you drink my piss?"

Theresa looked at my aunt and said: "Want to explain, Caro?"

My aunty sipped on her flute, then smiled: "Simple, really, Sam. You see Theresa and I had agreed beforehand that if she only wanted a shower, she would not give me any signal. Then, when it came to time for you to piss it would be a shower.

"But if she liked the look of you and was in the mood for a golden cocktail, then at some stage she would give me a wink. As I was preparing her in the flogging frame, she gave me a wink - simple, wink equals drink!"

I nodded, it was simple! "And did I taste good?"

"You were delicious," smiled the 45-year-old. "Not as delicious as this Krug, maybe, but very tasty."

"And would I make a good domme?" I asked the pair.

"Yes, I think so," said Theresa. "In fact, would you like to pose for one of my magazines? I've got one which specialises in teenage and younger dominas - it's called Trainee Tormentors.

"I've got a young lady photographer who I know would simply adore doing a photo shoot with you. We can do it here in Caro's dungeon."

Caroline agreed: "Melissa would do wonders with her, make her a domme to drool over."

I thought a bit. "I dunno, aunty, what with my studies, I wouldn't want to be identified."

Theresa said: "We'll provide a fictional persona for you. We'll call you something like 'Annie Agony, 20-year-old trainee domme for the Bitch of Brighton. What do you say? My rates are good - a couple of thousand for a couple of hours work."

When I heard the words "a couple of thousand" all my doubts flew out the window. "Done," I said, "but let me come up with own fictional description, I don't like Annie Agony."

Both women nodded. "I'll ring Melissa this evening and we'll set up a shoot," said Theresa. "Now, let's get pissed."

That evening, laying back in bed with Aunty Caroline, I asked: "Did Theresa really enjoy that session this afternoon?"

"Very much so," said aunty, as she shifted her body and pushed my head down to her breasts, then her belly. I didn't need another push, I had got the picture!

My mouth pressed against the slippery satin touch of her lovely pussy, its dark-haired thatch trimmed back in a severe crew cut. I licked a while, then propped myself and looked up at aunty's lovely face.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"Because she left us a 100 pounds bonus," said Aunty Caroline, "now shut up you little devil and eat me!"

I needed no further encouragement. A 100 quid bonus!

Suddenly, I felt very hungry!

To be continued...