He noticed a flicker of rebellion in Crimsons eyes. He had been speaking quietly to her, almost musing, while shooting some pool. Her infraction had taken place at His mention of the word piss ... He lately had taken to having his guests observe her urinating over her floor hole (the design had been inspired by the Roissy Academy) - her delicious embarrassment always warmed the audience.
She was tightly bound and gagged, but not blindfolded. She was fastened to the upright rack in his den, a leather belt across her shoulders. Her arms were behind her back, secured at the elbows and wrists, and her knees were pulled high by leather twine ropes attached to rings just above her head. Her nipple clamps were weighted only slightly.
Beads of perspiration formed on her thighs. He removed her gag. Tell me how you love to be watched while youre peeing, my little slut. Hesitation. He took the quirt and slashed it crosswise along her upper thighs, stroking her slit. I love it when your friends watch me pee, Master. More feeling! SLASH! SLASH! Oh, Master! I so love to pee in your sight, and the sight of your good friends! SLASH! SLASH! OH MASTER, PLEASE LET ME PEE FOR YOUR PLEASURE! PLEASE! PLEASE!
He smiled. I love it when you beg. Husky voice, His breathing deep. He replaced the gag, caressed her reddened thighs a moment, loosened His Weapon, and plunged into her. She gave a muffled squeal, and He let loose a deep groan. Moments passed. In the morning, precious one ... He stroked and stroked, and gave her permission to come, and her gripping hole squeezed from Him pump after pump of the essence of Love.
The next morning, her eyes were filled with humility and reverence as she urinated amidst the applause of His companions. His control, and her gratitude, had had to be earned by the loyalty of them both.