Not So Different, yet as Different as Can Possibly Be

10-The Show

   She turned to her guests, and asked "would anyone else like to 'punish' him?"

   Polymnia stepped back from Jack's body as at least thirteen more fey stepped forward. Not everyone could go at the same time, they were only so small, and the circle of them could only be so big as urine can only fly forward so far.

   Jack watched their faces as they grinned like foot fetishists in a used shoe store. Some of them looked young enough to be barely eighteen, some looked old enough to be his great grandmother, but most fell somewhere in between. "Oh, and boy," he heard Polymnia shout.

   "Since you think being peed on is so hot, I want you to jack yourself off for them as the use you as their personal urinal."

   The women around him watched as he gripped and stroked his member, and they started peeing slower as a result, wanting to watch for as long as possible.  But as they emptied, they would stand back and let others have a go. So many different kinds of fey women, all with different bodies and faces, it was like being used by the entire magical bestiary.

   Eventually they were done, but Jack kept stroking himself. He had not been ordered to stop.

   Polymnia clicked her tongue in disappointment as she shook her head. "No, no, no, this won't do. This was supposed to be a punishment, and you clearly enjoyed it." With that, she snapped her fingers and pointed to the catering table. "Clear that, then lie on it face down." She watched in delight as he did so. He was so obedient, and she liked that in a pet.

   He layed down on his stomach and waited for her to come over. She did so slowly, and the waiting was not easy. He felt her undo the rope over his tunic-thing, and pull it off of him.

   She gripped his butt and kneaded it for a short while. She then gave it a solid spank earning a small yelp from her pet. "What a delicious looking piece of cake, I'll have to eat it later though. You were bad today, so you must be punished, pet. Roll on your side."

   He did so and looked into the hungry eyes of the gathered crowd as he felt the stares of those who stood behind him on the other side of the table.

   Polymnia reached under the table and pulled out a box before opening it with exaggerated movements. She pulled the double sided strap out of the box and placed it near his face. While he was distracted by thoughts of what was to come, she pulled down her flower-banded panties and climbed onto the table.

   She stood above his head, and told him "turn your head, boy, I'm up here." As soon as he did, she squatted down and giggled. "Drink up."

   He eagerly opened his mouth as the stream of liquid poured into it and down his throat. It tasted disgusting, but he wanted to drink it anyway. While his mouth drank the urine, his eyes drank the sight of his sugar-momma's bare goat-haired vulva, and desperately wanted to lick it.

   Ask and ye shall recieve. Ask not, and ye just might recieve anyway.

   When she was done, she squatted lower and told him "wipe." She breathed in sharply as she felt him lick it clean of any remaining fluid. Well, not all of the fluid, or he'd be here for a while. His obedience to her perverted commands alone made her wet enough to fill a river.

   Once she was sufficiently cleansed, she picked up the strap by her feet, and stood back up. She then let him watch as she stepped into the leg holes before pulling it up, inserting her half into her vagina.

   She then walked around him on the table, and stood behind his feet. "Lift," she commanded, and up his leg came. She watched the paler skin on his left sole go up, and expose his boy-hole for her.