Abruptly She turns Her back to Me and paces to the stainless steel table.
I hear a faint electronic bipping.
The game is golden centurion. One shot every minute for one hundred minutes.
I hear the chiming of glass against steel then She wheels the table into my line of site. Ten cut crystal shot glasses are lined up across the surface, and a digital timer with glowing red numbers.
Just a few things left to organise.
She picks up an empty decanter from the trolley and looks at me. A smile lingers on Her lips.
She lifts Her dress and tucks the neck of the decanter between Her legs. I hear fluid – gushing. My eyes are huge, and I’m watching the decanter get fuller and fuller, glowing a soft gold in the half light of the room. There would be fully half a litre of piss in that bottle, at least.
She’s watching my face, still smiling like a cat, as She saunters back to the trolley. It isn’t until She starts filling those little crystal glasses that it finally hits me.I start tossing my head, shaking and pressing back into the bench.
She ignores my thrashing and presses the timer starting the countdown. The minute passes far too quickly and I’ve achieved nothing except to wear Myself out.
At the bip-bip of the countdown, Mistress is beside me and my struggles start anew.
She reaches out and grasps my nose firmly, blocking my air. I hold out, pulling my tongue into my throat.
She raises an eyebrow, sighs and sinks Her fist into my stomach. I’m choking, spluttering and dragging in gaps of air, then She has a grasp in My hair and is pouring my first shot down my throat.
Through my watering eyes I can see Her smiling quietly and resetting the timer.
You understand that resistance in your current state is ridiculous?
You’re going to be begging for this soon enough.
Let’s pick a new flavour for you next – perhaps some of your own vintage. It’s really quite a vile smell, I can only imagine what you’ve been fuelling your body with.
Images of the burgers, pizzas and hearty steaks consumed as the mainstay of my life flashed in my head. Oh god, the sodas, the beers…Bip-bip goes the timer and Mistress is grinning and laughing so cruelly as I sputter and cough my way through a mouthful of the most vile substance ever consumed.
On and on it goes, I’ve stopped struggling and have resigned myself to staring my mute objection at Her, but Her gaze does not falter and Her smile does not fade. It feels like eternity but we’ve barely passed the thirty minute mark, not even a third of the way through. There is a noise outside the door and with a chuckle Mistress throws the door open.
Hello My darlings, I’m so glad you could make it!