When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Twenty-One - Be the Man

Catherine hates the feel of the connection that is soon upon her.

“Whoa!” The prostitute exclaims a moment later, when she “climaxes.” She then separates from Catherine, and the two now share a colour.

Many of the non-refundables indeed have colourful things to say, upon penetrating, thrusting, and then climaxing, upon getting to play the man, and, in their case, the john. It is clear that many quote clients of theirs as they penetrate and thrust, and so, they express a slice of what their sexual experiences are like, with the tables turned for just a moment, during this race.

Such overt behaviour is against the rules of the association, but no master expects to put an end to it where non-refundables are concerned, and, furthermore, now is no time to take links out of the chain for punishment. For the most part, masters are amused by the women putting on these male characteristics, both verbally and physically, although some comments do hit a little too close to home, for some of the masters, ego-wise.

Having been burst into, Catherine now must take on the other role.

“It’s not like she’s tight or anything,” a master jokes about the non-refundable, when the connection between her and Catherine is difficult to achieve. “Plenty of room for a landing.”

“Why aren’t they sticking it the hole closest to them?” Another master asks, referring to the one between the women’s lower mounds of flesh, to the orifice in the back.

Connection continuing to fail, Catherine momentarily considers throwing the race, not only for herself but for her entire line. A contest attendant, however, is soon helping to achieve the bond, and then, union achieved, Tristan's submissive begins her contribution to the race. Approximately one hundred rapid, vigorous thrusts are required for the bursting to occur, and “climax” therefore causes breathlessness. Odd thoughts come to Catherine's mind as she moves her hips and pushes, male thoughts. Powerful ones.

When she hears the warning sound, Catherine pushes three more times before feeling the burst, and then feeling wetness snaking its way on her by way of colour exiting the other woman. The lower abdomen of Tristan’s submissive is then adorned by a blend of the colour from the woman who penetrated her, and from the one  whom she penetrated. As Catherine quickly withdraws from the woman, taking with her what remains of the fake organ, her ears catch yet another wisecrack by a master about the sad, pathetic state of those “organs” after they have done their thing.

By the end of that race, the women’s chains are even more colourful, since the different dyes that were released have dripped along thighs and legs from their areas of initial smearing. The women also display colour on their faces, with their noses still chocolate-brown, along with other stains applied there from the previous race. Catherine looks down at her coloured skin and then back up again, wanting to hear “that was the last race.” But it is not.

The same kind of imitation members are used in the following race, but this time, the women must work to create the climax of the fake-manhood by using their facial orifice.

The imitation organs require quite a few ins and out, as well as pressure upon them, and even a certain technique of tongue, lips, and mouth interior, all working together, in order to make the process to their bursting faster.          

“So, now we see who wouldn’t get their license for whoring if they had to pass a test,” a master jests.

“I’d love to work at that licensing bureau,” another adds.

“We should place bets on the true submissives. Their master’s teaching skills are on the line, after all.”

“Depends on what the master likes.”