Watermelon Display

Watermelon Display

 

by gameboy (Wolffie)

 

 

© 2007 Wolfwerks

 

 

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.

 

“Mistress I BEG OF YOU!  My mouth need to be filled with my very own hot piss.  That is where it BELONGS!  Make me piss in my mouth!”  I shouted, growing hoarse now.

 

Her eyebrows shot upwards.

 

“Make you piss in your mouth?  Why should I make you do something that you want to do?  Something that is your lot?  You are begging for it, aren’t you?  Well, it has some semblance to begging.”

 

“Please Mistress allow me to fulfill my destiny.  Please piss in my mouth!”

 

“WHAT?  ME piss in your mouth?  How dare you!’

 

“No Mistress.  I mean…..  “

 

“NO?  You dare say no to me?  You insolent dog.”

 

Desperation washed over me.

 

“I’m just begging to let your dog fill his mouth with his insolent piss.  Down my throat!  Please.  PLEASE!”

 

I was growing hoarse.  My throat was dry.  My cock was not.  I felt it full to bursting.  My balls were twitching and juggling as I performed kegels.  Burning pain was shooting through my shaft, peaking at the glistening drop at its top.  It seemed I will piss myself through my rock hard cock even if it is impossible.  (In the meantime I found it was not  impossible.)

 

With each word I was sinking deeper into the sub space.  My body was encased in a fiery coffin, detached, yet even more sensitive.  My neck seemed gripped by a tight ring of fire, making my head feel separated from my body. floating in a limbo of its own, a limbo in which only submissive need existed.  It was shattered by a fiery burning and my Mistress’s insistent and innocently surprised eyes.

 

“Please,” I whispered for the last time, “Pretty please with the… yellow on the top, Mistress.” To me it sounded like a shout.

 

“C c c.” 

 

She shook her head, a hint of smile floating over her full lips. 

 

“No.  Some nice touches but it was not convincing enough.  My doggie does not seem to really want to convince me of his need to empty his burning cock into that babbling mouth.  Therefore it is NO.”

 

My dixie jumped up in disappointment and need.  I almost pissed my face right there and then.  She jumped away angrily and sharply slapped my shiny balls and dixie.

 

“Don’t you dare!  No nasty self indulgence in mouth-pissing yet!”

 

I did not.  I felt others moving away, their eyes still on me.  Were they regretful, or grinning or both?  Fitting perhaps?

 

 

Mistress Nikita gripped the base of the plug firmly.  She yanked it up and out in one forceful motion.

 

A shower of her pee I was keeping safe in my ass shot out vehemently.  It showered out umbrella like, most of it drenching me, dousing my body, dripping from my trembling cock on my face.  It was wet now (fitting, remember?)  So was my hair.  I felt its wetness sliding along my knuckled spine, all the way to my shoulders.  Which was only part of my body, besides the head, touching Mistress Aphrodite’s floor.

 

“Am I not charitable?  Letting you douche yourself with my hot piss?  But, you were too eager to let it go.  You should have shown at least some reluctance to let it leave your body.  You are collecting punishments very fast.”

 

My anus snapped shut, and then gaped open like proverbial fish mouth. 

 

I fell on the side, curling like a wet puppy around my burning, trembling dixie.  The fish mouth in my ass was pulsing…begging.  And THAT was fitting too (believe it or not).

 

They let me relax for a while.  (Relax while being overpowered with the need to quench the insistent piss?  No way.)  Mistress Nikita walked back to her wicker chair.  A female slave slithered over to me and used a sponge to wipe some pee off, but not from the face.

 

I was given back my baby bottle and was I allowed to console myself by sucking the remaining tepid piss from it, which of course was very fitting indeed.

 

 

*** ***

 

They chattered about a double reward and retribution, whatever that is.  My floaty head was not in too cognitive a state.  I was trying hard to be a good submissive and not listen to conversations not directed at me.

 

Mentioning the need to water and feed submissives regularly in a FITTING manner, (the word IS catching, isn’t it?)  Mistress Beatrice arranged for a little side show.  Mistress Nikita did not seem too happy with the comment but took it graciously.

 

Mistress Beatrice’s slave was dressed in an absurd white corset. (It was also  very graceful, let me assure you,)  It included a bra with shoulder straps.  Her bald female slave tightened it with red laces.  He pulled on black stockings and matching silk gloves.  The female slave smeared thick black lipstick on his lips.  She was wearing a heavy black strap-on, a collar and cuffs.  The blackness of the strap-on was heavily accented against her fair skin.  Other than that, she was naked. 

The slave’s balls were painfuly but fittingly held fast by a black leather strip studded with iron pegs.

 

He then had to kneel in front of the mirror and masturbate above the strap-on offered by the other slave, also kneeling.  The dressed up slave did it non-stop and in the same slow, ponderous rhythm until he was on the verge of an  orgasm.  I heard him whimper and grunt in an effort not to change the pumping rhythm.  Next he had to let go of his slavering member, put his gloved hands on his back and spurt his slave-cum on the black strap-on, groaning piteously at the ruined orgasm. 

 

Then, the female slave stood up and offered him the cum-smeared artificial cock.  And he had to lick his own cum from it, every oozing drops.  He had to do it kneeling, in front of the arranged Mistresses.

 

Suddenly the strapped-on female slave pushed the instrument right into his mouth, driving it all the way in.  The male choked and spluttered as she ripped it out.  Nevertheless, she drove it back in and started to fuck his face. 

 

She was holding her hands on her back – the strap-on being the only ‘part’ of her body he was allowed to touch.  He was in need for air, sucking it in with a loud gasp each time she pulled it out for a briefest moment.  His throat visibly expanded as the strap-on was forced back in.  He was swaying, and the strap-on raping his mouth became and anchor holding him upright.

 

Mistresses though it amusing.

 

Finally she let the glistening black cock leave his mouth completely.  He collapsed on the floor, face first, gulping air, spluttering, his face red.  His face lay in the midst of the pool of cum and drool.  He turned onto his belly and slid across the floor, polishing the remaining drops as he dared to mar Mistress Aphrodite’s floor. It is called frog swimming.

 

 

A bald female moved to the other side and knelt behind him.  The strap-on was pressed on his ass.  He lifted it and she thrust the strap-on home.  Still, no hands.  She ass fucked him and he struggled to remain in position on the slippery floor.  The fucking, struggling and ever louder groaning went on.  Sweating slaves were working vigorously to satisfy the Mistresses.  His dick was hard again trembling and dripping.  Was he cumming?  I did not know – and it certainly did not matter.  Perhaps the fact that he was made to wank and cum before he was fucked was a message to me?  Whatever it was – it was fitting.

 

 

***

 

The copulating slave couple was just told to stop, their amusement value being spent for the moment.  They were told to get the next part of Mistress Nikita’s Display ready.

 

Then the Mistresses turned their attention back to me.  I trembled but rose to attention.  The need to urinate goose bumped my skin.  I was shivering and swaying, barely able to kneel.  My dick was going up and down.

 

A tall rectangular frame of heavy, shiny steel poles was wheeled out .

 

A female slave rolled out a big watermelon.  I thought I heard a menacing rumbling as it rolled...  It had a hole drilled in it, showing the red meat inside.

 

It was green with a red gash that reflected ominously on the smooth black and white checkered floor.  As the water melon rolled between her cuffed hands, the red hole on the huge fruit was winking.  (An asshole? Or a pussy?)

 

Was it watermelon fucking time?  Matching red strap-ons were passed around and fitted on Mistresses by helpful slaves.

 

There was a one foot metal dais below the frame.  She had hard time setting the watermelon on it but with the help of the male slave they finally  finally did it.  It was offered to me lengthwise, held fast with vice-like holds.  A drilled hole near one end was taunting me.

 

“My dog on display wants to fuck?’ came Mistress Nikita’s taunting voice. 

 

I trembled,  “Y… yes Mistress, if that would please you.”

 

“And I am mentioning it only in an idle chatter?  Yes, I want you to fuck and it is very fitting that you fuck a watermelon.  Dog humping a fruit on a show … or is it a pig?  Are you a pig?  So you will fuck it with abandon, you lecherous piggy you…and you will put on a show for my friends, won’t you?”

 

Kneeling now in front of the object of my desires, staring at the hole, I mumbled, “Yes Mistress.”

 

“WHAT WAS THAT?’

 

“YES Mistress. your piggy will hump the fruit with abandon.”

 

“Good.  Now I know of your nasty habits and shortcomings.  You cannot concentrate or even keep your dixie hard while you need to piss.  Therefore you will piss in your lover ….”

 

Mistress Beatrice laughed with scornful glee in it but no mirth.

 

“Then you will fuck it… you will fuck HER.  What is her name…?  Miss Cantaloupe?”

 

This time both Mistresses laughed.

 

“And you are ordered to cum in her as soon as you can.  It should be fast and proceeded by begging.  I will provide stimulation for you.  You will be punished if you don’t cum.”

 

“Maybe the fruit fucking bitch could be punished if he does cum?”  injected Mistress Aphrodite.  She did not want to contradict Mistress Nikita in front of her slave.

 

Mistress Nikita just laughed.  “We’ll see what there is to see.  Get on with it, doggie – I mean piggie!”  She laughed again.

 

She unlocked my cuffs and pulled my hands upwards.  She locked them again above my head and attached them to the chain wound around the horizontal pole.  It had some slack – I could sway and move forward.  Then I was left to my own devices – and to my trembling dick.  It seemed reluctant.  And it was losing its rigidity, betraying me now.

 

I shuffled forward and knelt, straddling the dais. 

 

The hole was somewhat lower that was necessary and I had to wiggle and lean forward to position my burning pee-stick at the entrance.  It was rapidly losing substance and I was in a desperate hurry to ‘stick it in’, knowing it will be almost impossible if it went down completely.  Fortunately, the hole was shaped like a funnel and my dick went in.

 

Miss Cantaloupe’s meat was cold, freezing, and squishy.  I thought my dixie would retract back in my body.  At least, I thought, I will be able to piss.  And, of course I could not.

 

“Hump while you piss!”

 

The order was accented with a swish of a cane and pain flashed across my ass.  The slave, a schoolgirl in high heels, was now delivering the stimulation Mistress Nikita promised me. 

 

With the second blow, I ooomphed through the clenched teeth and jerked forward, squashing my balls and groin against the cold watermelon.

 

So I humped.  The cane stimulated me.  I ground my teeth, but a yelp escaped them with every stroke.

 

The cold hole was gripping my dick, the head swimming in the soft pulp.  The pressure pushed some of the juice back through the hole, lubricating it.

 

The hump piss seemed impossible.  My ass jutted forward with every hump, offering itself to the cane.  The burning strikes pushed me forward and, not surprisingly, made my dick harder, turning the piss release into an almost unattainable chimera.

 

I shuddered and yelped as the intensive pins-and-needles sensation smothered me. Then a burning pain shot from my insides towards my scrotum and the very tip of my dick.  And at that moment the dam broke and I almost bent over the watermelon.

 

A trickle went out – like a tear unsuccessfully held back. I started to inject a strong stream in the wet, crunchy-spongy interior of my ‘lover.’  I produced a cross between a scream and a whimper.  (A no small feat, that).

 

I went on humping. Caning went on, too.  A strong stroke just in midst of the piss made me stop.  My dixie wanted to jump up – but there was nowhere to jump...  It was imprisoned in the watermelon.  I went on pissing with abandon, moaning in a travesty of an unabashed fuck. 

 

I felt the tepid fluid almost squeezing my dick out of the watermelon and leaking from the hole and on my balls. My piss, mixed with the cold Miss Cantaloupes juice, was thick and sticky and so was my crotch.  Miss Cantaloupe was rebelling against this humiliating hump.  Pissing in the lover?  Oh, yeech.

 

I heard Mistresses clucking, commenting how this was ‘one really sticky fruit hump.’

 

Pissing hurt.  The cane hurt too, pushing its blinding flashes on my heaving, sweating ass.  I went on humping like a mechanical gadget between the cane strokes and the squishy grip of the watermelon.  I submerged even deeper in the sub space.  My head felt as if stuffed with cotton – except that the pain and forced arousal made it fatally clear.

 

Was pissing in the watermelon while humping it an adequate crowning of all the travails I suffered? Whatever it was – it was fittingly humiliating.  A pig humping a vegetable pig.

 

The Mistresses were having a casual discussion now...  Shall I be allowed to cum?  Will I be rewarded for the act?  Shall the punishment be a reward?  Or the reward a punishment?  And – will it be amusing?  Mistress Nikita’s eyes were sparkling and her smile,was a cross between benevolence and savage glee.  For, the decision was only hers of course.

 

As I humped away I saw from the corner of the eye my Mistress Nikita standing.  The slave with the corset and stockings was kneeling and voraciously sucking her red strap-on.  Saliva oozed from his chin.  

 

She walked over to me, telling the slave with the cane to stand aside.  She grabbed my hips, bent her stockinged legs a little and pressed her strap-on between my ass cheeks.  I was pushing backwards to meet it.  The rubber tip of her instrument of ass-destruction slid down the crease and found my asshole.  Another knock and it slid it.  My sphincter gripped the heavily lubed strap-on.  Only then I thought of squeezing it. 

 

The feel that it was her penetrating me almost pushed me finally over the precipice in the headlong Niagara of orgasm.  But – not yet.

 

She did not fuck me really.  She just held it, unmovingly, her iron will steadfast.  I fucked myself pushing back on it – then forward to ram my dixie in Miss Cantaloupe.  The cock fucking my ass was Hers.  The strokes were Hers.  A dick stoking the watermelon seemed mine.  But – it was an illusion.  It was Hers too.  Both of them, Hers. 

 

I jerk between Her two cocks.

 

And I absolutely had to cum   I uttered a futile “Please – please, cum, please.”  She gripped my shoulders, Her nails digging in.

 

“WHAT?”

 

“I – cum, please.  Must cum….  begging.”  I was gibbering.

 

“I am to take for begging?’

 

She pulled me back, her strap-on digging in deeper in my insides.  My dixie was pulled out of Miss Cantaloupe with almost audible pop.  It was followed by some special ‘gameboy swash’ I made in the watermelon.  My dixie swung upwards, hit my stomach – then it was left in the air, trembling.  Mistress Nikita then began to fuck my asshole.

 

“May I beg to cum Mistress!”  I screamed it this time, gasping.  “Please may the piggy cum?”

 

“So cum. Cum in your lover,” she whispered in my ear while she continued pumping.

 

Orgasm swept over me.  It came from her words, not from me.  It started in my pelvis, gripped my balls, squeezed my cock and filled my body with the torrent of electrical discharges.  Even my soles tingled and lights strobed in my eyes.

 

My dixk was jerking futilely in the air.  It was genuflecting and bobbing in front of its denied desires...  pumping a load after load of cum. Thick yoghurt flew and rained on the watermelon sliding like a half dead squid down the smooth green surface.  It was a fitting bath for a watermelon pig.

 

 Still trembling I heard her snarl from far off.

 

“You gave a bath to your lover?  A watermelon bukkake, no less.” 

 

She giggled and then her voice grew softer as she pushed the strap-on even deeper.  Her fingers stroked my neck softy.

 

“It was a good, obedient cum on display.  I am proud of you gameboy.  However… “ her voice rose again, “  Look what have you done!  Look at that mess.  Do you always mess up your lovers like that?  You will lap it up and pay obeisance to the nasty discharge I let you make.”

 

She paused.

 

“And…you were told to cum in the melon, you worthless cum slave!”

 

“I was Mistress?’

 

“Yes you were, you dick head! (Check few paragraphs above!)” 

 

She pulled her strap-on out of my asshole.  I collapsed, held only by the chain from the frame.  The bald slave appeared and released the chain at a nod from Mistress Nikita.  It piled loudly around me as I collapsed in front of the dais.  Still, I had the strength to raise my head and clean up the strap-on Mistress Nikita offered me.  I don’t know if it tasted of my ass, but it certainly held the tang of Her pee I held in there so long.  That was fitting.

 

** *

 

I knelt in front of the cum-splattered watermelon on the dais.  The chain leading from my wrist cuffs was piled behind me.  I was naked and, once again, alone.

 

And I bowed to the watermelon which I baptized.  I kissed it.  Then I went to work licking my cum snot, following its runny trails on the smooth skin.  Sucking in the messy mixture of my piss and watermelon juice below the hole.  And finally, I concentrated on the hole, (Miss Cantaloupe’s anus?) pushing my tongue in and trying  to suck its insides out. 

 

A manicured hand entered my field of vision.  It was holding a cocktail straw.  It popped it in the watermelon’s hole and I got to suck the cocktail of my passion, which Mistress Nikita so deftly and lovingly mixed for me.

 

The bald slave was kneeling in front of the dais with a silver platter and a knife.  Miss Cantaloupe was to end its wanton life.  The fruity fuck toy was to be quartered and eaten by the submissive in front of the Mistresses feet.

 

Feasts end with fruit and sweets.  One particular fruit was about to be served and consumed.  I could not think of destiny more fitting for it.  I pushed my face in the sticky read meat and began to chew.

 

*** *

 

On the way back from Mistress Aphrodite’s studio I was kneeling by Mistress Nikita’s feet.  Her hands were traveling through my hair, down my throat, touching my collar lightly and then back again to my ear.

 

“I will say it just one more time, my little Watermelon Display showed those Mistress Biatches how I train my pets.  You tried hard to please and you did it.”

 

“Thank you Mistress, it was a pleasure.”

 

She laughed.  “No doubt pet, no doubt.  You also need to do something to commemorate the occasion.’

 

“Uhhh… like what. Mistress?”

 

“Oh, you will think of something.  Something appropriate.  Surprise me.”

 

 

*** *

 

“I did it Mistress!  The company I established for you, Appropriate Enterprises, is the second largest supplier of watermelons and cantaloupes.  We are close to cornering the market.”

 

“Oh what a nice surprise, gameboy.  And I am sure that is not all.”

 

“No, it is not all Mistress.  We have a special offer.  It is called a Watermelon Display.  It…  “

 

“Go on, pet.  You are so attractive when you blush.”

 

“It comes in a plastic wrapper with a corkscrew drill and it has a sticker with an adequate bull’s eye target on it.  It says ‘gameboy tested.’”

 

“Ha ha ha. What a lovely surprise.  Thank you.  And it IS so appropriate.  Now, after you finish your regular tryst with your cantaloupe lover we can check out some other fruit.”