The Hen Party

Story Info
One man at the mercy of five dominant ladies.
7.2k words
4.1
96.7k
19
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Kommandant
Kommandant
12 Followers

I had been visiting Madam Lisa for about 4 months, generally every second weekend in the month. Madam Lisa was an excellent practitioner of the art of female domination, and had several slaves who she saw on a fairly regular basis. She didn't charge for her services, her reward came in the total subjugation of the male animal, and in this respect she was very adept.

I found her through an ad. In "Mistress Inc." – a monthly magazine devoted to female domination, and well worth a subscription for anyone in to that sort of thing. Her reply to my letter left me in no doubt that here was a lady who took this particular scene very seriously. When I visited her, usually for a 24- hour period, I had to submit myself totally to her ministrations. Anything she demanded she got. Any refusal on my part would mean instant dismissal from her service and no amount of pleading would reverse the decision. So far, I had accepted her demands willingly : much oral worship, foot licking, a little trampling and various menial tasks around the house. Of these, my favourite was the laundering of her undergarments. Her dirty linen basket was a virtual treasure trove to the appreciator of such things. Stockings, tights and a range of panties that took the breath away. There were usually about 14 day's worth of items that needed washing, and I relished the task.

At this point I suppose I had better describe Madam Lisa, a lady who catered to my desires so expertly. She was no spring chicken. I would think she was about 40 years old, but had kept her shape remarkably well. She might have been a few pounds overweight, but this just added to her voluptuousness. Her hair was black with the first few strands of grey beginning to show through, and generally it was tied back in quite a severe bun. In all the time I knew her, I never saw her without hosiery on her legs. Tights, stockings – she owned a huge selection, and took great pleasure in varying her attire day by day. Being a devoted nylon fan, this pleased me greatly and I spent many a happy hour lying at her feet as she watched TV and rubbed her nyloned soles over my face.

All this was to change. Madam Lisa had a side to her that I had never imagined. Her dominant demands so far had been exactly what I had always longed for in a superior lady. Towards the end of a heavenly weekend I was knelt on the floor between her legs, giving devoted oral service to her glorious inner sanctum, when she suddenly squeezed her thighs hard against my head and spoke to me, quite casually.

"I want you here next weekend too. I know you're not due, but I'm having a party for some lady friends of mine, and you'd be ideal to act as waiter and general factotum. I'll expect you Friday afternoon about 3 PM to get things ready."

Notice there were no ifs and buts, no can you, can't you about it. She had spoken, and there was an end to the matter. As it was, I didn't mind. I had no plans for the weekend, and I thought it would be interesting to meet some lady friends of this glorious creature. I thought it would probably prove to be a fascinating experience. Little did I know!!

The following Friday I arrived on time, wearing a crisp white shirt and black trousers that Madam had decreed as being in keeping with my station as waiter. I prepared a buffet and set out an impressive array of drinks that would have impressed the most devoted tippler. Just before 7 PM when the guests were due to start arriving, I got my first inkling that this weekend was going to be a bit different from my assumptions.

"Right," said Madam, "As soon as the bell rings, I want you flat on your face behind the door. You're going to act as doormat for my friends. Apart from keeping the street dirt off my carpet, it will also give them an indication of just how much under my control you are. You will just lie there quite still and let them wipe their feet on you. And don't dare complain, not then, and not for the rest of the party or you'll wish you had never been born."

I gulped a bit at this announcement. Lisa had never been quite this aggressive before. The first few pangs of doubt began to creep in. Maybe this weekend wasn't such a good idea – from my point of view, that is. And then the doorbell rang!

"Go on, get your useless body down there where it can do some good. NOW!" With that, Lisa pushed me violently towards the front door where I hastily assumed the position, lying on my face to act as a doormat. Lisa opened the door and from the shouts of welcome, I gathered there were three guests waiting to come in.

"Come on in girls," said this new aggressive Madam, "let me introduce you to my doormat. Stand on his back and wipe your feet well, I've got a new carpet and it's raining out."

I heard the women laughing, and suddenly my breath was expelled in a whoosh as a pair of high- heeled shoes clambered on to my back and began using it just like a doormat. Whoever this woman was, she was damned heavy, and her stiletto heels hurt like hell. Her voice came from above me.

"Do you know, I've never done this before, treading on a man that is. Do we get to do anything else to him while we're here?"

I heard Lisa chuckle. "Oh Christ yes, you're going to LOVE this party, and this pig's going to think his time has come. Believe it."

Another pair of feet was on my back now, flat soles this time, which eased the discomfort somewhat, but this lady was just as heavy. Suddenly, her shoe was on the back of my head, forcing my face into the carpet.

"I've always wanted to trample a man, but I've never had the opportunity until now. Lisa, you are something else. Where did you get him from?" The feet stepped down, to be replaced by another pair. More bloody high heels, and if anything, these were sharper than the first pair. They dug in cruelly, right at the base of my spine. You understand, at this point I hadn't even seen the owners of these feet. My face was pushed into the carpet, but I must admit my curiosity was aroused and, I have to tell you, I had a bit of an erection.

The wiping finished, the ladies retired to the lounge and I started to get up. "Stay down." Came Lisa's sharp voice, "There's one more to come and she'll be here any minute."

With a barely audible sigh, I lay down again. I STILL hadn't seen who'd been treading on me, and the suspense was killing me. Perhaps they were real beauties. There again, they might be real dogs, but what the hell, if you enjoy a bit of trampling it doesn't really matter what the woman looks like, so long as she hasn't got fat ankles. God, I hate fat ankles.

I was pondering this when the doorbell rang again. Lisa came out of the lounge to open the door, casually stepping on my back as she did so. She opened it, and a booming voice filled the room. "Lisa, you bitch, how long's it been? Must be all of two years. Can't wait to get acquainted with this male piece of shit you're providing for us. Where is he?"

"Hello Bessie. I'm really glad you could come. I wouldn't have wanted you to miss this. He's down there, you're supposed to wipe your feet on him." Lisa spoke happily, obviously she had a high regard for this latest arrival; I felt less enamoured, from her voice she sounded like a female bouncer, recently employed by a downmarket Lesbo club and sacked for undue physical intimidation. I wasn't far wrong as it turned out!

"Well hello" the voice boomed out, "You and I are going to get to know each other real well. And I mean REAL WELL." And with those somewhat disconcerting words ringing in my ears, an immense weight suddenly crushed my body, expelling every last bit of air out of my tortured lungs. What felt like two mating elephants began walking up and down my spine. I couldn't scream, I couldn't protest, my lungs felt flat and I couldn't even BREATHE.

"Come on Bessie" I heard Lisa say, "Don't crush him to death, at least not yet. He's got a lot of entertaining to do this evening. You can have fun with him later."

"Yeah, later man, I'm going to see YOU later," came the corncrake voice, and the paralysing weight left my back to my immense relief. They moved to the lounge and I pondered that last snippet of conversation. "At least not yet?" Had I heard that right? Time to go man. There's the door, scarper while the going's good. But the going wasn't good. Suddenly a hand like a 32- ounce steak grabbed me by the collar and hauled me to my feet.

"Weren't getting ideas about leaving us were you? Old Bessie's got plans for you a bit later, so come on in the lounge and join the fun." And I saw her for the first time, and my God, she was immense. She was also black! I suddenly realised I had just had at least twenty stone cavorting on my back. Her face was pleasant enough, with prominent cheekbones, a high forehead and, I swear to God, the ultimate cliché. A colourful bandanna encased her head, hiding her hair completely. She wore a loose sarong type dress that came down to her knees, bronze coloured stockings or pantyhose – I couldn't tell which, and large, clumpy, open toed sandals through which her scarlet painted toenails were visible through her hose. She was a BIG lady, but not unattractive, and, I was to find out, her bark was worse than her bite. She looked about 40 years old.

Holding me by the scruff of the neck, she marched me in to the lounge. "Good thing I went back," she announced cheerfully, "I think he suddenly got cold feet, and before we've had any fun too."

I looked at the other guests then. Not a beauty amongst them. Two of them, ( Sheila and Bev, I subsequently found out) were both slightly overweight examples of the female form. They were quite plain without being ugly. Both of them about 45 years old, well dressed in skirts and blouses, and both of them with decent legs thank God. (I HATE fat ankles, did I tell you that?) One wore high- heeled red pumps and the other had on a pair of flat walking shoes.

The last guest, (Agnes) was as thin as a rake. She looked about 35, with a sharp face and an expression that seemed to indicate she had an unsavoury smell permanently under her nose. She wore glasses. Her legs were thin, but, again, they had curves in the right places, and these were emphasised by the very high heels she wore. These were black to match the shiny black hose that, I have to admit, really suited her. I was to find out that she was not a very nice lady. Of them all, however, she was to leave a most distinct lasting impression on me.

So, there I was, held ignominiously by the scruff of my neck by a 6 foot black lady and being stared at by the other three guests with expressions that boded no good at all. Madam Lisa took charge then. She stepped over to Bessie and gently removed me from that iron grip. "Down on all fours," she said, "Let's introduce you to my guests." She straddled my back and dug her heels in to my thighs. "Over to the couch" she said, "And you'll greet the ladies with the respect they deserve."

"I crawled over to the couch where the three women sat, Lisa's weight bearing down on me like a jockey walking a horse after a big race. I stopped in front of the first one.

"This is Sheila. Sheila, this is Thing, say hello to him in a suitable fashion." Sheila looked a little perplexed. "Do something to him for God's sake."

"Such as?" said Sheila, plainly puzzled.

"Whatever you want. Make him kiss your foot, spit on him, kick him. Anything to show your superiority. God, you'll never make a DOM." Sheila's face lit up.

"Oh, I see what you mean. Let's have him smell my foot." She removed her flat walking shoe and held up her nyloned sole, pushing it into my face with not a little force.

"Go on, smell it. Let me see you breathe deep Thing. It's all you're good for."

Actually, I didn't mind this sort of thing at all. Womens' stockinged feet have always entranced me, so I buried my nose between her toes willingly. They smelled divine, not pungent, but with that somewhat sweet essence that only womens' feet have. She wriggled her toes and grasped my nose with them, obviously enjoying this as much as I was.

"Alright, that's enough," said Lisa, digging her heels in again, "Now it's Bev's turn." Sheila removed her foot from my face, somewhat reluctantly, I thought, and I moved over to Bev. Close up, I could see that Bev had a bit of a cold. Her nose was red, and she was constantly wiping it with a tissue from her purse. As I stopped in front of her, she turned away with a muttered "Excuse me" but Lisa stepped right in. "If you're going to sneeze, give him the benefit, maybe he'll get the flu."

Bev paused and suddenly smiled. "Right," she said with a sudden intake of breath, and exploded a huge sneeze full in my face from about 12 inches away. I recoiled, but Lisa urged me forward again. "No you don't. There might be another." And there was. In fact there were two, in quick succession, splattering my face with saliva containing God knew what germs.

Everyone thought this immensely funny as Lisa rode me over to Agnes. I looked at this severe lady with some trepidation. Actually, she wasn't laughing. She was staring at me with something that looked almost akin to hate. Why? What had she against me? I stopped in front of her and she slowly removed her shoe. "Kiss my foot too," she murmured, and lifted up that black silky sole for my attention. I buried my nose in it and inhaled deeply. Oh, it was good, certainly sweaty from its confinement in those restricting leather shoes, but not overly so. I pushed my nose in even deeper when, without warning, she drew back her foot and then rammed it full in my face with all the force she could muster. I reeled back, almost unseating Lisa, who cried out.

"The bastard was enjoying it," snarled Agnes. "He's not supposed to do that. WE'RE the ones supposed to enjoy it."

"Steady on Agnes" said Lisa. "He does enjoy some of this stuff, that's why he's here. You should just make the most of it and revel in humiliating him. The chance doesn't come very often."

Agnes sat back, pulling on her shoe. "I doubt very much if he's going to enjoy me," she muttered, and I felt a pang of fear lance through me. This was a lady to watch out for, and yet, and yet, the thought gave me a definite thrill, somewhere deep down in my psyche. This was also a lady who, with her pinched haughty face, I could give myself to completely.

Now it was Bessie's turn. She was still standing, and Lisa rode me over to her. Bessie smiled down. "Let me introduce myself Thing," she said, "I'm Bessie, now kiss this." With that, she slightly squatted, lifted up her sarong, revealing tight red panties beneath her nyloned gusset, and, with both hands behind my head, pulled my face deep in to her snatch. An overwhelming smell of womanhood immediately assailed me as her hands pressed me deeper and deeper.

"You like?" she whispered, as I squirmed, fighting for air. "It's a bit confined now, but later we'll do it in its natural state, and I guarantee you'll LOVE that. Never mind Agnes, she just hates men, but we all have to do our thing, and I just LOVE men's faces in my crutch."

Lisa backed me off, my face moist and perspiring from a combination of sweat, the dampness of Bessie's groin, and traces of Bev's saliva.

"Right, that's the introductions made, now go and fix us a drink." said Lisa as she climbed from my back. I made to stand up, but Lisa's pointed toe thudded into my side. "NO, on your hands and knees you animal. In our presence you NEVER stand upright. Got that?" I nodded weakly and crawled over to the drinks cabinet. How the hell was I going to fix drinks AND carry them, if I wasn't allowed to stand up? This point obviously occurred to Lisa too, because she sniggered and called after me, "Alright, stand to make them and bring them over, then get down on your belly."

This duty done, and the ladies all supplied with drinks, I lay down on the carpet as unobtrusively as possible. Sheila said "Why don't we use him as a footrest." This came as no surprise to me at all. Sheila definitely had a thing about me and her feet. Probably one of her erogenous zones was located there. One she'd just discovered tonight.

The ladies pulled up chairs around me, and placed their shod feet anywhere that suited them. Sheila kicked HER shoes off and placed herself with the best access to my face. Her warm perfumed soles fastened on my face and I gave in to their magic. Slyly, I began to lick between the stockinged toes, and I swear I heard a sigh from above. This moment of magic was soon curtailed as Bessie's size twelve's made themselves felt. She had them on my belly and, even sitting down, the heels dug into my abdomen, the weight of her legs alone almost too much for my slender form. Then another problem. I recognised Agnes' slim black legs above me, and her sharp stiletto heels settled on my throat. "Uh Oh" I thought," I'm in big trouble. This is going to hurt." And by God, it did! She skewered those heels deep into my neck until I moaned in agony. I think Sheila thought I was moaning in ecstasy because she pressed her toes harder to my nose and ground them about. I tried to respond, but the pain from Agnes' heels was too much. Later, I found she'd penetrated the skin and drawn blood. I was hardly aware of the other four feet on my body, although I had the sensation of somebody treading my genital area. Fortunately, this sadistic demonstration from Agnes was curtailed when Bessie suddenly spoke up gleefully.

"OK, everybody out of the way, I've got a little present for him." Chairs were moved back and the pressure of the feet on my body was suddenly removed. My eyes, which had been screwed shut in agony, opened, to see the vast form of Bessie descending on my face, the loom of her red panty crotch about twelve inches above me. She was facing my feet, and her ass settled on my face with a distinctive oomph from my surprised mouth. The world was blotted out entirely, and I struggled to breathe as my nose was forced deep in to her rectum.

"He's going to love this," I dimly heard from above me, and the next second her ass cheeks vibrated as she let go with a huge rasping fart. The stinking gas penetrated my nose, it went in my gasping mouth, and, I have to say, nearly rendered me unconscious. I struggled and squirmed but there was no escape from those immense buttocks. They pinned me firmly to the floor so that I was totally immobile. The stench was incredible. Think of the worst fart you have ever experienced, multiply its toxicity by a factor of five and you'll begin to get the idea! I heard the other ladies squealing in simulated horror,

"Oh Bessie, you dirty bitch. That is GROSS!"

"God, it's EVIL."

"For Christ's sake open a window."

Bessie laughed. "Sorry girls, it's that spicy gumbo I had for lunch. It always makes me fart like that. I bet he liked it though – didn't you?" She wriggled her ass, looking for a response, but I was incapable of anything. I felt nauseous. The stink persisted, and my nose was right at the core. Then, disaster - "Uh oh, here comes another, once I start I can't stop. Still, better out than in eh?" And she farted again. This was simply too much. I desperately tried to move my nose aside from that noxious hole, but Bessie's weight defeated me. My nose was imprisoned as though in a vice, and my mouth, of necessity, was open for air. The air it got, however, I could have done without.

Muffled comments from the ladies filtered down to me, and I was dimly aware of the windows being opened. What I wouldn't have given to jump through one – even from the third floor, anything to escape those debilitating farts. I lost count, but I think she did it two or three times more, by which time I was totally out of it. Then, at last, the crushing weight left my face and I was able to breathe some relatively clean air. I say relatively because the room was still redolent of second hand gumbo, but it was a positive relief after what I'd just experienced. Bessie smiled down at me.

Kommandant
Kommandant
12 Followers
12