“My thoughts are whirled like a potter’s wheel,” claims a character in one of Shakespeare’s great historical dramas – and I know just how the poor man felt. In brief idle moments this week I’ve been musing on many things ……
and I found myself considering the delights and the challenges of ensuring a regular supply of Mistress’s watersports delivered by gag to my loyal and thirsty clients.
These considerations of my piss supply (watersports is the ‘polite’ description of the game) came as I sat on my white leather throne watching my golden nectar fall, drip-by-drip, into the eager waiting mouth of one of my slaves who was strapped into the stylish bondage chair in the corner of my sparkling new BDSM Laboratory in West London.
I am delighted with all my equipment that I sourced from some of the best bondage furniture suppliers in Europe: but, as with any new enterprise, I am noticing a few teething problems as I settle into the new set-up and gradually increase the number of clients I allow to see me each week.
One of those little niggles concerns the new watersports feeding system I was using that day. The piss reservoir is a glass, flagon-shaped bowl which can hold the entire urine contents of even my capacious bladder and which hangs suspended like a liquid sword of Damocles above the slave’s head.
From there the watersports trickle down by force of gravity – usually through some kind of gag – to nourish my sub. There are tubes and taps and stoppers to control the flow so that it is delivered at a manageable rate … not, of course, for the slave’s comfort but because I want it all swallowed, rather than having him choke and make a mess on my floor. As I often say when they start to splutter …..
“Pity doesn’t live here…”
So, having set the scene, I should explain that my problem that day was one of perhaps too many choices. Watersports production is never a problem for me; I can turn on the tap anytime I wish as many a client has discovered over the years.
The issue is rather one of delivery direct to the slave’s mouth. In my former life in Hanwell I did have a selection of piss-pants, tight-fitting rubber knickers into which I could simply piss to my heart’s content, with attached rubber tubing to feed the watersports into one or other of the man’s bodily orifices. That of course was usually the mouth, although I have in the past had success with urine enemas which use warm pee to thoroughly flush out the most-kinky clients.
Now, in the BDSM Laboratory, I have a steady and tasty drip supply available from the equipment, but always have to decide which type of feeding gag I should use.
One of my current favourites is an inside-the-mouth, red rubber gag which can be securely strapped in place and which places the feeding tube firmly between the client’s held-open lips.
But there are other choices, including various funnel gags or gags built into hoods which make it impossible for the slave to do anything other than swallow whatever liquid I wish to pour down his throat.
“There’s a good boy… You’ll drink up ALL of Mistress’s watersports, won’t you?” I ask sweetly as the gag straps are pulled a little tighter to ensure that he really doesn’t have much choice.
Naturally, all my devotees find that to be no chore at all; I usually have clients begging for a taste of their Mistress’s nectar.
For some, however, I reserve a special treat… with the help of a catheter it’s an easy job to drain a slave’s own pee into a medical receptacle, and then feed it back to them in an endless cycle of nourishment. We are, after all, urged to save water wherever we can, aren’t we? What an environmentally-friendly Mistress I am!