Mr Taylor's Tribulations Ch. 01

For some minutes more I was forced to lick and lave at her musky anal tract, until she removed her bum from my face and turned to the audience as I panted from my position of bondage.

"And now, mesdames, 'ooo wants to try out his tongue for obedience?" Maitresse Yvette inquired of her attentive audience.

A flurry of hands shot into the air and it was misfortune that Yvette chose possibly the largest woman in the room, a dark-haired, black-eyed beauty with a lush, large bum stretching against a tight little red leather miniskirt who she called Mrs Armitage.

"I zink he will rather like to perform some horal adoration on your lovely arse, Madame Armitage," said Yvette, drawing laughter from the group for her pronunciation of the word "oral", although I'm sure they'd heard the domina's little joke before.

Mrs Armitage stepped up to the bench, bent over and bestowed a long sucking kiss on my cock head, then unzipped her mini and squatted over me. She was not wearing panties.

As she pressed her pussy towards my face my nostrils were invaded by a strong sex smell from her unshaven minge, then a strong musky aroma hit me as her anus hove into view, dark brown and gleaming in the strong spotlights which illuminated my place of humiliation.

I tentatively ran my tongue against Mrs Armitage's back passage only to be reminded by Maitresse Yvette "Zis ees a worship task, monsieur, put some effort eento it!"

I redoubled my efforts and soon Mrs Armitage was gasping as my tongue probed her anus. For some minutes she graunched her beefy buttocks over my face before bending to plant a long, sucking kiss on my pre-cum dripping cock and moving off me.

As she did so, some of the woman in the audience applauded her performance. Then a hush fell as Maitresse Yvette stood at the head of the bench with a little rubber implement in one hand, which she waved in front of my face.

"Et maintenant, monsieur," she said, in her mock French accent, "just zo you don't get the impression that zis is all about arse licking and anus adoration, I 'ave a little bondage device for you. Eet's called, 'ow do you call eet in Eeenglish, er ze parachute?"

A voice from the audience called out: "Same word, Madame Yvette - parachute is the same word in English and French."

Yvette giggled. "Fantastique - 'ow jolly convenient."

Then she fitted the rubber pouch around my dangling balls above a conveniently placed circle cut in the base of the bench. Instantly I was aware of hundreds of tiny little prickles as the instrument of torment assailed my scrotum, sending little slivers of pain up through my groin. These were intensified when the mistress hung a large lead weight to the hook in the cords set beneath the bottom of the punisher. I gasped as the increased agony attacked me.

"Oooh, monsieur," said Yvette, in mock sympathy, "don't be such a beeg baby, it's only a little pain, n'est pas?"

I grunted but said nothing, then waited for the faux Frenchwoman to continue with her discipline.

She did not make me wait long. "And now, monsieur," she announced, "something weech you might find distasteful but weech I think ees essential for a good, well be'aved slave to experience. I need to go, 'ow do you say? Pee pee. And you, monsieur are going to be my leetle piss pot."

I could hardly believe my ears, but from the applause which rang out around the room I realised this was one of the highlights of Maitresse Yvette's performance.

"Now," she said, straddlng my face and smiling down at me, "we can do zees the 'ard way or zee eezy way. You can choose, mon petit, but whichever way you choose, I can assure you you're going to drink my pee pee."

"The easy way," I grunted, and was rewarded for my impertinence by a strong, open-handed slap against my left cheek which made my head ring.

"Zee eezy way, maitresse!" Yvette almost screamed, as the blow still rang in my ears.

"That's right, madame, show him some fucking manners," I heard a voice cry out, then realised it was that of my wife!

"The easy way, maitresse," I replied, obediently.

"Good, zen we can dispense wiv zee funnel," Yvette informed me. "I so much prefer pissing straight into the mouth of mon esclave!"

Then she positioned her quim until its gleaming, aromatic core was aimed directly at my mouth. Her hands gripped each side of my head and then she whispered: "Drink me, you thirsty leetle slut!"

And digital cameras clicked as a strong stream of dark yellow urine spumed from her urethra and sprayed into my mouth. I gulped and gasped but managed to swallow and suck down the foul-tasting salty stream, almost gagging on the heavy flow, but thankfully managing to complete my task without spilling any, an effort extremely rare in a beginner, I was later told.

Finally, Yvette's stream dwindled to a paltry dribble, then she sank onto my mouth and hissed: "Clean me, monsieur esclave, clean me!"

I did my duty, tasting the salty tanginess of her pungent pussy until after several minutes of ablutions, Maitresse Yvette started to writhe from my attentions and with a screamed "Oh fuck me!" in a cry which displayed not one trace of a French accent, she reached a shuddering climax on my mouth.

As she stepped off me, to cries of "Encore" and "Bravo" from the audience, I hoped that this was the highlight of Maitresse Yvette's afternoon performance. It was - but that did not mean it was the end of my humiliation.

Standing, face flushed and still panting slightly from her orgasm, Yvette looked out into the audience and recovering her composure and her French accent addressed my wife.

"And now, my dear Tanya, eet iz time for you to demonstrate the way you want eem to be'ave in future. Please be so kind as to present eem first with your arse, then your pussy. Show 'eem who's zee boss!"

Tanya rose from her place on the couch between Vanya and one of her golfing chums. She pulled off her tight black dress, revealing a black brassiere and high heels, but nothing else. She smiled down at me menacingly as she approached the bench.

"Righto, Rupert, ready for desserts?" And with that she turned her back on me and straddled my face. Her anus pressed down firmly against my mouth and I began to worship her there, licking her and sucking there, before thrusting my tongue into the tightness of her satiny-slit. Again I heard digital cameras recording my tongue task.

Then Tanya pulled away from my gasping features, turned and presented her semi-shaved quim to my gaze, its labia lips dark red and glistening. She was obviously hugely aroused.

"Drinkies time, sweetie," she cooed, in a sing-song voice and as digital cameras again flashed and clicked, I tasted for the first time my darling wife's urine as a sudden spurt of golden cocktail descended from her pussy to splash into my open mouth.

Her flow, thank goodness, was nowhere near as long as Maitresse Yvette's, but her conclusion to the drink was the same. Tanya grabbed my head and rubbed it firmly into her salty-tasting snatch and graunched her way to a shuddering climax on my panting mouth.

As she stood away from my cock-straining body - to my amazement I had not lost one inch of my erection throughout these severe attacks of pussy punishment - I heard Yvette announce: "Mesdames, zank you zo much for your attendance 'ere today. We weel continue with Monsieur Rupert's training next week, same time, same place - same slave! I zank you."

To be continued...