What a lovely weekend! The three of us had given our all in every sexual position we could think of during the preceding forty-eight hours or so. What little sleep we had managed was mostly cat knaps. Maybe an hour before one, or two of us sought the private parts of a sleeping partner. Perhaps ‘private’ is the wrong word. Public, or free might be more accurate. I certainly do not recall anyone asking for my permission to fondle, suck or fuck me during that period, and I certainly did not seek permission to reciprocate.

It was just after Five O’clock on Monday morning. I had arisen not only for a pee but also to prepare myself for the morning exercise programme due to commence at half past six.

When I arose, Mary and Isabella, half awake, were still cuddled up close, spoon-like. Isabella’s right arm over Mary’s lower body, gently massaging her lovely hairy pussy. I had slept with my head between Mary’s thighs, and could still smell the exotic, mind-blowing aroma of her pussy, which was now receiving the attention of Isabella’s right hand.

I contemplated going back to bed for half an hour and going down on Isabella, but I wondered better of it, thinking they probably did not want my attention at that particular moment. I was wrong.

I had started having a pee when Mary came into the bathroom. She ignored my urine flow and grabbed my cock in a rather aggressive manner.

“Keep peeing George.” She pulled me away from the loo and placed her face into my urine stream.

When I had finished, she stood, still holding my cock in that rather painful way, my urine dripping from her gorgeous face, “George, you will recall when you were going down on me yesterday, and, I inadvertently spurted over your face. I seem to recall you drank a fair bit of it. Is that an accurate description of what happened?”

“I suppose that is about right,” I replied, wondering where this was going.

“Laugh it off if you must, but I feel this is me subconsciously telling you, that you are my slave. I am your mistress. And that is my way of demonstrating my ownership.”

I sensed that Isabella was also now in the bathroom, and listening to our verbal exchange.

“I agree with that thought Mary. How does it feel to have two femdom mistresses George? We are willing to share you. Are you comfortable with that?” Asked Isabella. Mary still holding my cock, the occasional urine drip spilling onto her hand.

“Well, I know there has been no formal agreement, verbal or otherwise,” I replied. “But I kinda thought I was your slave. I do enjoy, the warm, tangy stream of both of you pissing over me., I identify it as an animal marking its territory. I wouldn’t like it if it was someone I did not love, or respect pissing on me. And despite the short time we have known each other. It just feels right to be a slave to the two of you. The pee somehow makes me feel I am your property. I’m happy for the peeing to continue, and I am proud to be a willing slave for both of you. I’ll even sign an agreement if that is what you want.

“No, that won’t be necessary” Said Isabella smiling, we feel the same. Peeing on you is a token of our ownership. The smell soon falls away after a morning exercise shower, and sometimes, we will want you to pee on us.”

“Now lie down, face up on the floor slave!” said Mary grinning happily. “I’ve got a full bladder of piss to get rid of!”

“And open your mouth wide!” Said Isabella, also grinning happily.

Standing, with legs aside, holding each other close and kissing, both emptied their bladders onto my face. I drank what I could, but there was quite a mess spilled onto the bathroom floor.

“We shall repeat this most mornings George whether or not it is one or both of us, or even three or four of us if we have guests. I think we shall have a long and loving relationship. Now take a cloth, or a used thong if you like, wipe yourself all over from that pee on the floor. The girls will smell you before we go for our run, and know that you are our slave — just in case there is any doubt in their minds.”

I found one of the thongs left over from Friday night and did as instructed by my mistresses. I washed myself down with that lovely pee. I even got a little aroused by obeying that instruction.

At six twenty-five, I met the six female trainee femdoms and five professional femdoms. All wore sports bras to stop those gorgeous boobs from flopping about. Some wore thongs, others skimpy shorts, and some wore running shoes. I was of course naked, as befitted my position in the pecking order of things, i.e. a male slave! We met in the hallway, waiting for the clock in the tower to ring the half hour, the signal to begin the two-mile fun.

Somehow, Mary, Isabel, and myself had found the time to walk the route over the weekend, just to show where I would be leading the ‘hounds’ with their light canes at the ready, if they could catch me.

I stood at the fifty-yard marker ready for the off. As soon as the bell rang I ran like the wind. My intention being to give myself as much a lead as efficient.

I had run perhaps four hundred yards and risked a backward glance. Irene had a good lead, with Isabella and Mary close, but trailing. I felt confident I could outrun Irene, thus escaping vicious swipes from her cane which she had somehow managed to swap for a much longer and whippier cane, than the one I recalled her holding back in the hallway. Had she somehow exchanged the original cane for a heavier, crueler weapon?

I almost sprinted the next half mile and risked another backward glance. Irene was putting up a spirited effort to close the gap. She was definitely keen to lay that cane across my bare backside. She was perhaps thirty yards behind me. Which meant she was closing.

About one mile to go. I knew I would have to practically sprint that mile, but I couldn’t withstand the temptation to pause, spread the cheeks of my naked ass, and give her a ‘Mooney’.

Then I ran like a bat out of hell for the finish line, arriving a few yards in front of her. She was pretty fit. No taking that away from her. I would have to watch myself. Had it not been for that fifty-yard benefit, I would have felt that cruel cane of hers. I noticed the long, whippy cane she carried, had now been replaced with a typical eighteen-inch baton that all the other girls carried. “How had she managed to swap them over?” I thought.

“You won the battle Pretty Boy, but that don’t mean you won the war. If I don’t scar your ass by Friday, I’ll still win you in the raffle!” Said Irene slyly as we headed towards the gym for the thirty-minute ‘Beasting’

I was a little bit worried about this raffle. I was happy to be loaned out to anyone except Irene. It was beginning a bit of a worry.

The ‘Beasting’ was, in the main, Childs play for me. “Give me fifty Pretty Boy!” Irene would scream. “That was only Forty-nine Pretty Boy! Give me fifty you wimp!” She then knelt grabbed and my testicles painfully as she counted the press-ups. I was tempted to protest. But I knew if I did, I was liable for punishment for speaking out of turn. I was after all a slave under the command of a professional femdom.

Luckily for me, Mary noticed what was happening, and despite her own rules of not interfering, decided to intervene. Thereon in, the ‘Beasting’ was actually enjoyable and no worse than any workout I would have given myself in the garage at home.

Thirty minutes in the gym soon passed, and after a shower, it was time for the one-mile swim. All the girls wore one-piece swimsuits for swimming, thus holding their boobs in place as they swam. I managed to secretly thank Mary for her intervention on my behalf during the beasting.

Irene, Mary, Isabella, and I headed towards a sectioned-off part of the large pool. We four dived in, one or two girls preferring to jump or climb down the ladder into the water. Irene, Mary, and Isabella were magnificent. Hardly a ripple when they dived, and as for swimming, all three glided through the water with the elegance of porpoises playing with the bow wave of a ship at sea. When they did a turn at the end of the pool, it was poetry in motion. All three were neck and neck for the first twenty or so lengths. Until then, I wondered I was a good swimmer. But those three ladies made me feel very much like an amateur. They could have challenged and beaten many a professional.

I was told fifty lengths equaled one mile. Isabella was the first to finish. Mary second, Irene third, and the amateur two lengths behind, brought up the rear.

Irene accused Isabella and Mary of cheating by tapping the timer twice at one point, in an effort to win. All to no avail. The swimming event was recorded on CCTV! Irene was not a ‘happy bunny’, and stomped off in a huff! Isabella and Mary giggled like schoolgirls at Irene’s discomfort.

Isabella and Mary held hands over my cock and led me back to the bedroom. Angela and Rebecca were there ahead of us, wearing only their everyday thongs. (Never fails to be a ‘Turn On for me). Their job was to make Isabella and Mary presentable for the day’s work ahead. Hair, a little bit of makeup. Everyday working uniform, (black mini skirt, white blouse, stockings, another ‘Turn On’) was already laid out ready for them. I was told to prepare breakfast for the five of us. Fruit juice, cereal, and fruit would have to suffice for now, Isabella, Mary, and I had to meet the recruits at the railway station, five miles away, at ten thirty.

At ten thirty we arrived at the station. Mary and Isabella disembarked and went to meet the recruits. I was naked and driving, so I stayed on the bus.

The train was on time. A few minutes later, thirty-six male trainee slaves were ordered to stand to one side and allow the trainee femdoms to get on the bus before them. When the trainee femdoms had made themselves comfortable at the rear of the coach, the slaves were allowed to board, but not allowed to sit on the seats. They were to stand or sit on the floor if invited to do so. Meanwhile, any trainee femdom who wishes to examine them was welcome to do so.

When all were onboard, Isabella addressed the slaves:

“My name is Mistress Isabella. My colleague is Mistress Mary, the driver is George. Like you, he is a slave, but he is the Head Slave. I advise you not to upset him in any way! Slaves in our School for Femdoms, are not allowed to own anything. Even the cock-cage which will be fitted to your penis shortly does not belong to you.

All of you will now strip. When you have done so. I shall fit your my cock-cages to the penis, which is no longer your property. At all times you will remain naked whilst under training. We keep you naked to help promote humiliation of the male species, and we find this helps to remind you of your place in the order of things in our world. The female is always superior, no matter how far down the pecking order of things she is, and is therefore allowed to wear clothing, even if it is only a thong. Should any of you have a change of mind about entering into slave training, you may leave the coach now, or at any time of your choosing during training. All you need to do is report to me or Mistress Mary and return your cock-cage.”

They all decided they wanted to continue. The trainee femdoms looked on through sadistic eyes enjoying the lecture being delivered to their future trainee slaves.

“Trainee femdoms and slaves will be given more instructions in the gymnasium when we arrive at our destination. ” Continued Isabella. “Trainee femdoms will be issued with their uniform and kit, and shown to their rooms by Mistress Mary, after witnessing today’s slave punishment trials, which have been laid on for your amusement whilst you enjoy light refreshments after your tiring journey. All male clothing should be placed in the suitcases you should have brought with you, this will be stored for you until you depart from our establishment.”

The first slave to be fitted with his cock-cage offered Isabella his cock in his hand and said

“Here you are Missus, get your laughing gear around that.!”

Isabella slapped his cock hard, then his face. Mary smacked his ass with a paddle, and George punched him in the stomach.

“One. Slave spoke without permission — Six smacks.

Two. Failed to address a senior Mistress correctly — Six smacks.

Three. Twelve stokes using a paddle will be carried out by the Chief Prosecutor, Mistress Irene, after being tried at slave punishment this afternoon. I should warn you, that should you choose to make any sound at all whilst punishment is carried out, the punishment will be doubled and started again from scratch. Just for the record, What is your name?”

“David.” Responded the slave.

“Well David, you have just won yourself another twelve smacks for twice failing to address a senior Mistress correctly! Twenty-four smacks in total!”

The Trainee femdoms, clapped and cheered. There was no more backchat or wisecracks from the trainee slaves. The Trainee Femdoms did their best to examine the slaves whilst on the coach, but it was crowded on the coach, they were advised there would be plenty of time for this when we disembarked and the slaves could be examined and handled much easier. In any case, no selections would take place until Tuesday morning, and Isabella and Mary would have the final word.

It was a cold March day. Sleet was falling when they arrived back at the College for Femdoms. The slaves were ordered to stand in one long line behind each other in a large puddle, which was forming on the tarmac driveway. George handcuffed all trainee slaves, with their hands cuffed behind them. The handcuffs, with a three-rung chain, were then locked onto the cock-cage of the man behind.

“Slave training is all about the humiliation of the male slave.” Started George. “As you are already aware, we are inferior to the ladies who are currently sitting down in a nice warm gymnasium with a nice warm drink and small eats to make them feel welcome. You must respect all ladies in this establishment if you do not, it means punishment as you will see when David and I are punished very shortly. Yes. I am being punished for interrupting a lady who was speaking at the time. Any lady, no matter how young or immature, can get you punished for something. S

She may not even be telling the truth. It doesn’t matter. Whatever she says, she will be believed, and you will be punished. It is all about humiliation, turning you into a good slave. You must do your level best to please. If you don’t your life can become very difficult. So do not argue, or speak out of turn.

I am about to mark your left buttock with a numeral with an indelible marker. Should any of you become fortunate, or unfortunate enough to become a slave permanently attached to any Femdom. Your owner may choose to tattoo this number on your buttock. It will serve to prove that you have been trained by us should she decide to sell you, or trade you in at a later date, your pedigree can be traced from that date. She may even brand you. The choice is hers. Not yours. You are her slave and must do as she wishes. Does anyone want to leave? If yes I shall release you now.”

Three asked to be released. At this point, Isabella appeared at the front door and indicated that we could come inside.

“Okay lads, you’re not going to die from hypothermia today, it would appear the ladies are now comfortable and we can go in. Don’t forget. Do not speak, unless you are spoken to, and even then be polite and answer correctly. That is the best advice I can give you. Those who wish to leave, I shall look after you indoors. Inside as quick as you like lads. Do not proceed into the gym, wait in the hall. Hurry up, it’s bloody cold out here.”

In the hall, the three who had asked to be released now became four. I informed Isabella, who advised that they should stand outside the office, and await her presence to unlock their cock-cages, then go and wait on the bus.

Now there were thirty-two trainee slaves. In total, we needed about twenty, give or take. Professional Femdoms would have the first choice. Trainee femdoms would then be allowed to choose a slave for their personal use. Slaves not required for immediate Femdom ownership, would be kept back for the pleasure of visiting professional femdoms, and maintenance work around the estate. All trainee slaves would receive similar training.