The Hen Party

"How'd you like old Bessie's cooking then. Tasty was it?" I just lay there, totally incapable of any response. I think I'd aged ten years. Agnes spoke up. "You know, that's given me an idea. Why don't we all shit on him? We could do it in his mouth and watch him chew it."

Lisa, may her name be preserved for ever in The Book Of Light, came straight back.

"Not in my house we don't. It'll stink the place out, and Bessie's already given us an example of overkill on that score. If you want to shit on him, wait until he comes to visit YOU."

Agnes smiled. "He wouldn't dare visit me" – and she was right. And yet, and yet, that nagging little voice deep down whispered "Would you dare? Why not? Imagine being under the total control of a woman like that, with that sharp face and those thin black stockinged legs. Something to remember." Yeah" I answered it. "IF I got a chance to remember it." This disturbing little private conversation within myself came to an abrupt end when Lisa said, "We could all piss on him. How about that?" Squeals of delight greeted this suggestion, and Bessie said "Good idea, I've got a bladder full." So, apparently had everyone else, which wasn't surprising after the drinking they'd been doing. I started to worry. I wouldn't mind one woman pissing on me, but FIVE? I began to think I was in BIG trouble again, and I wasn't wrong.

Lisa said thoughtfully, "We'll do it down here I think."

"And what about the bloody carpet?" came back Sheila.

"Don't worry about that," Lisa said positively, "I've got an idea. YOU – Thing, strip off completely and go and fetch your jacket and topcoat from the hall."

"Oh Boy, here we go" I thought, but had no choice but to comply. I stripped off, and piled all my clothes in a thick heap in the middle of the room at Lisa's direction. Then I lay down on my back, with my head on the pile, looking up. Lisa looked down with satisfaction.

We'll have him drink as much as he can, but the overflow will just run on to his clothes. It won't get on to the carpet. Right, who's first?"

My Nemesis then spoke up. " Let's not do it one at a time, let's do it all at once. He'll nearly drown that way. It'll be funny to see." Everyone agreed with Agnes's prognosis, and they all gathered around my head and shoulders looking down. Bessie took a back seat. There simply wasn't room for her. She would have the distinction of using me as a toilet all by herself. The four other ladies stood above me in a rough square, and all raised their dresses, pulled down their pantyhose, and moved their panty gussets to one side. Then they slightly squatted, and concentrated. Their timing was immaculate, they all seemed to start at once; I had a quick impression of them all pulling their labia lips apart, the better to direct the flow, and four strong gushers of pee hit me in the face simultaneously. I heard Lisa say, "Open that mouth and drink it, as much as you can. If you don't I'll let Bessie shit on you." Jesus! My mouth opened like the Grand Canyon and four streams of warm piss immediately filled it. I gulped, swallowed, gulped, swallowed, but couldn't cope with the volume. The overflow ran in waves down my chin and neck to be soaked up by my pile of clothes. I only bought the bloody jacket the week before, but that was the least of my worries. Somebody, (had to be Agnes) directed her flow in to my nostrils, and I began to choke. The piss went straight down my throat and I began coughing and spluttering. It made no difference. They kept on peeing, mouth, nose, eyes, until I really thought I WAS drowning. Fortunately, they couldn't keep it up, and the streams gradually died away. I turned on to my front and buried my head in my soaked clothing, trying to drain my nostrils of the burning pee. I could hear them laughing above me. "Go on Bessie, your turn," said Lisa, but again came the voice of doom.

"Wait a minute," said Agnes, "Let's give Bessie something to wash off. Let's all spit on him."

"God , Agnes, you do have some good ideas," said Lisa admiringly. "Let's do exactly that." And with that she kicked me over on to my back, knelt on my chest, and spat full into my already soaking face. She did this several times, then forced my mouth open with her hand, and from about twelve inches above, drooled a long string of saliva into my already violated mouth.

They all took it in turn, kneeling on my chest and spitting great gobs of saliva that covered my face and filled my mouth when they drooled it. Bev, the one with the cold, managed to hawk up a couple of gobbets of pure phlegm that clung to my face like glue, one of them gumming my left eye shut.

"OK, that's about it," said Agnes after ten or so minutes. "You wash it all off now Bessie."

"About bloody time too," said Bessie, "I'm busting to go. She didn't stand above as the others had done. Instead, she knelt above my face, her great hairy pussy about six inches from my mouth. "First, I'll clean you up," she said. "Then I'm going to feed it to you bit by bit so that you get to drink it all. I have great muscular control, and we'll try to see that you don't waste a drop. Your clothes are soaked enough anyway." Then she began to pee, playing the stream all over my face for a few seconds, until all the spit and phlegm had washed away.

"Now you get to drink," she said, "Keep that mouth open all the time, I'm going to feed you." I opened my mouth wide, (ANYTHING so she wouldn't shit on me) A short burst of warm piss filled it, and I swallowed dutifully. Then another burst, it was as she'd said, her muscular control was superb. It went on for about two minutes, piss, swallow, piss, swallow, until my belly felt overloaded, and my throat burned from the relentless bursts of pungent piss it was forced to accommodate. Eventually, of course, it came to an end, and Bessie stood up, re-adjusting her gusset as she did so.

"That was very well done," she said. "I don't think you wasted a drop. I'll let you have some more soon."

"Oh, we'll ALL let him have some more," said Lisa happily. "For the rest of the night he's our toilet. When you want to go, just order him on to his pissy clothes and give it to him." There were murmurs of agreement from the ladies, and they all replenished their drinks to guarantee a continuous supply. Then they left me alone for a short while as they got down to some typical woman style gossip. I just lay there, too drained to move, and fighting waves of nausea that threatened to make a mess of the new carpet if they came to fruition. If I was sick, God knew what revenge Lisa would take. The ever- present threat of Bessie's gumbo loomed in my mind. I resolved NOT to be sick.

Speaking of Bessie, I noticed she was drinking glasses of lager as if there was no tomorrow. No doubt I would get the benefit in due course. However, there seemed to be no real malice in the woman. She had expressed no desire to hurt me, only humiliation. I supposed I could live with that. Agnes, of course, was a different kettle of fish entirely. After about fifteen minutes of peace, and having just about got my guts under control, Agnes got up and strolled over to me.

"I think I'll kick him a bit," she said to the others. "Don't want him to feel neglected do we?" She looked down and studied me before casually landing a heavy kick to my ribs. I winced, and rolled over on to my side. Another kick followed to the small of my back, and I gasped in agony. She began slowly pacing around me, landing a kick here, a kick there, and a couple of hard stomps to straighten me out from my protective foetal positions. Those high heel shoes with their pointed toes really hurt, and yet there was an almost sexual pleasure in being so helpless and at the mercy of so vindictive a woman. I gave in to the feeling completely, and at some stage I found myself offering my unprotected abdomen , inviting her to do her worst. I think she was aware of my total subjugation to her, and she relished it. Her small, but deadly foot crashed into my body time and time again until I was finally forced to plead with her to stop. She smiled down at me and slowly lowered her foot towards my face. The sharp heel forced itself into my mouth and she began remorselessly grinding it about until I could taste blood. Lisa finally intervened.

"OK Agnes, give it a rest now, save some of him for us, we don't want him passing out on us." Agnes grinned, and stepped away. "I really enjoyed that. If he ever DOES come to visit me, I don't think I would be responsible for my actions. I love kicking,"

Bev then joined the action. "Come over here and kiss my crotch. I haven't had you up there yet." I crawled over and looked expectantly up at her. She bent forwards and spat forcefully in my face. "Now you can wipe it off," she said, "Get your head between my legs and wipe it on my gusset. Then see if you can make me cum through my panties."

I dutifully thrust my face between her opened legs and felt the silky nylon of her stocking tops clasp me tight. I pushed my nose into her white cotton knickers and began licking. I felt her squirm, and her labia lips seemed to open beneath the material as I tongued her through it. It didn't take long. I have an idea this lady hadn't been getting much lately. She feverishly pulled her gusset to one side to give me better access, and within minutes of sucking on her clitoris, she came in a great heaving spasm. Then I felt her stroke the back of my head before pushing me away and flat kicking me on to my back.

"Oh, what a nasty way to treat a good little cunt licker like you," I heard Bessie say. "Come over here to Bessie, she'll treat you right. Over I crawled as Bessie pulled down her tights and pants. "Get your head in there and give Bessie a nice time too," she muttered. "I've been looking forward to this." I crawled forward to be confronted by the largest pink slit I had ever seen. The labia lips were akin to aero flaps, and the clitoris was a knobby lump of gristle that almost seemed to have a life of its own. I swear it beckoned me. Hesitantly I pushed my face into the damp morass and was immediately engulfed. Her large hands clasped the back of my head and pulled me in further. "Now suck." I heard from above. The clitoris seemed to enter my mouth of its own volition, and I sucked on it as though sucking someone's meaty thumb. She began shifting about, rubbing my face into her crotch as though she were using a flannel to wash it. I began to suffocate. No two ways about it. There was simply no way to breathe. My face was so enveloped in wet flesh, breathing was simply out of the question. Then she farted again. I was only aware of it because I HEARD it. A rasping rumble reverberated around my ears and I thrust my face even further into the swamp. Better death by suffocation than toxic poisoning from Bessie's farts.

"Sorry about that," I heard her say, "But when they come, they come. Nothing I can do." Even deep within her, the first sly whiffs of second hand gumbo began to penetrate my nostrils. I rubbed my face frantically against her all enveloping flesh, desperate to hold the stench at bay. I partly succeeded, but eventually HAD to withdraw or I really would have suffocated. The self -survival instinct is a powerful thing. I drew a deep breath, and immediately wished I hadn't. You know why. Back in I plunged, and did everything in my power to bring her to orgasm. I HAD to get away from this noxious prison. It took a long time, but suddenly she heaved and bucked and pressed my head so hard I thought the whole thing would be inside her any second. I heard her moan and gradually the pressure behind my head lessened, and the grip of her thighs relaxed. I backed gratefully off.

"Thank you Thing," she whispered, "You come and see old Bessie any time. I can't get enough of that."

After that, the night dragged on until I thought it would never end. I was spat on, pissed on, kicked and trampled several times by all of them, except for Bessie. She never kicked or trampled me, but I was forced to endure another cunt licking. This time she sat on my face and, praise be to GOD, she didn't fart. She did piss on me again however, when she had finished, but didn't force me to drink it. I did drink some, but most of it ran off onto my suffering garments.

The one incident that truly broke my spirit during that endless night was down to Madam Lisa. As I may have mentioned, she was prone to giving me a trampling session on my previous visits to her. They were most enjoyable, being relatively short in duration, and with no overt violence. This night, however, she went over the top. I suspect she didn't want to be overshadowed by the sadism of Agnes in her treatment of male slaves. In the early hours, with the ladies still filling their glasses, and by now well and truly "oiled," I was laid flat out on the floor having just been used as a toilet by Sheila. I felt well and truly wretched, my stomach protesting violently at its constant intake of urine, when Lisa had an idea.

"I'm going to give him a trampling test," she said. "Let's see just how well he does in a real marathon. I'm going to trample him until he begs me to stop. If he cries for mercy before, oh let's see, say ten minutes, we'll take him up to the bathroom and we WILL shit on him." She said this last, with a sly look at me, and I'm sure she meant it. The alcohol had reduced her inhibitions and she was capable of just about anything. Now, if being trampled by a woman in high heels for at least ten minutes seems pretty innocuous to you, then I suggest you try it. First, of course, make sure you've been well and truly kicked by several people, and your belly is full of piss, courtesy of those same people. Then report back to me. If you STILL say it's a "doddle," then I'll take my hat off to you. For me it was absolute purgatory.

She had me lie face down with my arms stretched out. Bev and Sheila stood on my hands, and Agnes settled herself on my head, the weight of her silky black bottom probably being a positive delight under different circumstances. Now, however, I was completely unable to move, my naked body prostrate and about to be subjected to Lisa's cruel high heels. She warned me that if I DID beg her to stop before ten minutes was up, well, I knew what to expect. Then she started, stepping heavily on to my back and balancing there, her weight concentrated on those spiky heels, which dug in to my lower back mercilessly. She slowly began walking up and down my spine, starting at my buttocks, and finishing at my neck, now tightly clamped by Agnes's knees. Then back again, and again, and again! Occasionally she would pause, and let those heels dig down into my flesh, twisting them remorselessly until I wanted to scream out. But I didn't. I simply could not tolerate the penalty that would ensue if I gave in before the limit of ten minutes had been reached. I know it's a cliché, but those minutes seemed like a lifetime, and, of course, no one told me how they were progressing. I had to judge the passage of time myself, and woe betides me if I got it wrong. In the end, when the pain became absolutely unbearable, with the two heels gouging into my kidney region, I screamed out for her to stop, my scream muffled, of course, by Agnes's backside.

"Well, he did it," I heard Agnes say, still sitting on my head. "Exactly 13 minutes twenty seconds." Did I denote a touch of disappointment in her voice? Of course I did, there was nothing she would have liked better than to shit in my mouth and make me eat it. She still had a card to play, however.

"OK, I'm going to have a turn. We'll give his back a rest this time, I'll trample his chest, and THIS time he's got to hold out for fifteen minutes."

I literally groaned aloud. I couldn't stand those shoes on my chest for fifteen minutes, I just couldn't. Lisa replaced Agnes, sitting down with a contented sigh, on my face this time, as Agnes rolled me over. She mounted my chest and began her probing, her heels, even sharper than Lisa's, digging in cruelly. She really did enjoy this, her enthusiasm being transmitted down to her feet, which did their work with great efficiency. The pain was even worse than before, particularly when she transferred her attention to my abdomen, skewering them deep into the soft flesh of my belly, and then just standing there, her weight balanced on her heels alone. When I finally screamed out for mercy, muffled of course by Lisa's ass cheeks, I felt sure I'd failed the time limit.

"I think he's saying something," said Lisa, as my scream transmitted itself through her crotch. "What's the time, did he pass?"

"Just," said Sheila, obviously consulting her watch. "Fifteen minutes ten seconds, I guess we don't get to shit on him after all." She didn't sound too disappointed, I don't think she was too keen on the idea quite honestly. It was just Agnes, SHE wanted nothing better. The feet left my hands; Lisa arose from my face and Agnes, obviously reluctantly, stepped down from my body. For a good ten days afterwards my body looked like the surface of the moon, with craters everywhere, some of them bloodstained. It was agony even to pull a shirt on.

And that was just about it. Taxis were called and the ladies started pulling their coats on, Bessie slipping me her address on a piece of paper and tipping me a wink. "Call me," she said with her big smile and vanished into the night. Sheila and Bev left next, both spitting casually on my face as a gesture of goodbye. "See you sometime Thing," said Sheila, "You can come and make love to my feet anytime." And then they were gone too. Agnes was the last. Her goodbye was a bit different.

"Kiss my shoes before I go, and always remember what they did to you," she said with a nasty little smile. I dutifully got down and put my lips to her toes. They never got there. Agnes swung her leg back and gave me a kick full in the face, which split my lip and sent me reeling back. "And remember that too. If you ever DO visit me, you'll get more of the same."

"You are a cruel cow," said Lisa, "But I've learned a lot from you tonight. His visits to me are going to be somewhat different from now on."

Agnes bent down, spat full in my face and walked out with a smile. Lisa closed the door behind her.

"I don't suppose you'll forget tonight in a hurry," she said. "They're all coming again next month for my birthday. Would you like to be waiter again?"

The expression on my face must have been something to see. I had been abused beyond my wildest fantasy, Kicked unmercifully, trampled, spat on, pissed on and gassed, and she wanted to know if I'd come back for more!

I said Yes!!

THE END

This story is dedicated, once again, to Mistress Domina.

ROMMEL