“Take your jock off and get in the tub!” And with those words my time as the piss boy began.
I had dabbled in mild piss play a few times before, but only with my Sir, and in the privacy of own our space, so those words were both alarming and exciting. As I knelt in the metal tub on the outside deck, in nothing more than my black “come fuck me” buckle boots, I felt the chill of apprehension run up my back. I had often thought about being the piss boy, and had seen plenty of flix involving one or more lucky boys, but never thought I would be able to push myself past the conventional mindset that piss play was dirty, nasty, and filthy. That all changed when I got on all fours.
The first few drops felt like a warm rain, which was ironic, given that fact that a huge storm had blow through the area an hour before. oughts that ran through my head as I knelt down and felt the first splash of warm piss on my back. I had always though of piss as nothing more than being dirty and disgusting (it happens when you are raised in a conventional, middle American home). Was I really going to let a bunch of guys use me a toilet? Didn’t I have more respect for myself than that? How is this going to help me in my training to be a better boy? Is this what is meant by service? How can this be pleasurable? Piss……REALLY??
Soon the few drops turned in to stream. One stream became two, which became three. I took a deep breath. I was officially the piss boy. The warmth of the piss made me relax even more as it flowed over me and fell into the tub and before I knew it, my knees were surrounded by a puddle. I went from feeling like this was going to be degrading to feeling like I was “the chosen one” to have the honor of being the piss boy. I felt a surge of pride that my Sir made me get in the tub.
I knelt in silence in the tub waiting for what was to happen next. I heard voices commenting on how hot that it had been, and encouraging others to give it a try. I was excited that word had spread that a piss boy was present and taking care of the guys who had been steadily drinking for a few hours already. Within a few minutes, the flow of piss began again. A wave of entitlement fell over me as I felt more and more streams hit my ass and back. I was the chosen one. I was chosen to have the pleasure of servicing all these leathermen in their jocks. It struck me how much pleasure I take out of pleasing others, of how much I enjoy being a boy. The fact that I was in front of a group of friends and strangers didn’t matter to me, although being on public display took the enjoyment to another level.
I looked up from the tub and saw these men standing above me, pissing on me. I knew my service was not finished yet. I grabbed one by the waist and pulled him towards me. I took his pissing cock in my mouth and drank freely, letting it run down my throat, swishing it in my mouth, and all over my lips and face. It felt good…..very good. The guy grabbed the back of my head with his hands, and leaned back slightly so he could see my face, all covered in his warm piss. I grabbed another when he was empty, and did the same. Other kept pissing on me the entire time. My head was in a different place. Being used like this helped to tap into other areas that I have long been curious about…..objectification.
When things quieted down, I heard the familiar voice of my Sir. I looked up, and he placed a hand on my freshly buzzed Mohawk and tousled the stubble that was there. I felt the tiny drops of piss that were there fall on my face like a warm drizzle. At first I felt somewhat embarrassed by what had just happened. I also felt humiliated and used, like I had let myself down in some way. I felt like I meant nothing to these men, and was merely there for their entertainment. The look on his eye told me otherwise. I had gained his respect, I had gained personal growth and self respect, and I allowed myself to go somewhere that I had never been. Limits were addressed and pushed, emotional barriers came down and personal connection and satisfaction were gained.