Chapter 8
To stop my whimpering, Master Marty unleashed his big dick and stuffed it into my mouth. He gagged me with his huge tool as the hot and cold water continued to fill me from front and behind.
I held the hot and cold water inside of me, thinking that they would mix somewhere in my middle. But they didn't. My pussy continued to freeze and my asshole continued to burn.
I opened my eyes and looked at Marty giving me my abuse. I watched his disciplining face as he stood on the rim of the high bathtub so that his cock could stay stuffed down my throat.
But something had changed. This time I wanted to bite his cock off!
That bastard!
I knew that I had volunteered to be his slave. I had turned myself over to him for training.
But for some reason, I no longer wanted it. I didn't need him to control me. I could control myself.
I didn't need to make myself feel beautiful by taking his abuse. I was beautiful without it.
Perhaps my unexpected recollections played a part in the switch. Now I could understand the roots of my bizarre fascination with piss and punishment.
But Marty was not my Daddy. I didn't need to act out a scene that had taken place so long ago. There was nothing wrong in my doing so, if that was how I received my pleasure and discipline. Obviously, the method worked well for Master Marty and his harem of slave girls.
But things were going to be different for me from now on.
Telling Marty this would have only earned me additional punishment. So I kept it to myself and endured the worst.
But when I was left alone, I climbed out of the tub and found my clothes and dressed. I was still weak from the treatment which had, by the way, left me with a huge load of Marty's semen in my mouth.
The other time that Marty gifted me with his scum, I took it gladly, eagerly, savoring it.
This time I had all I could do to swallow it without getting sick. But when I did swallow it, I told myself that this was the last time, at last.
Goodbye to all that, I said to myself, as I slipped out the door. Nobody saw me leave. Although I knew that Marty might be angry to find me gone without explanation, I felt it was the best thing for me to do. There was no reason to explain to him. All that was important was that I get out of there.
I didn't even look back. I knew of the things that were going on in that house. I could hear the gurgling sounds of a female voice. I knew that she was being forced to take some liquid in her mouth against her will. Perhaps it was her own. I had seen the self-contained unit that Marty had devised so that a girl would be forced to drink her own wastes through a tunnel-like instrument connecting her piss hole with her mouth.
All I was thinking of now was going home. Arriving at the apartment building on sixteenth street, I went directly to the apartment of Bill the super. I knocked on his door, hoping and praying that he would be home. I needed to feel the loving arms of a man like Bill, someone who cared for me.
To my delight, he came to the door.
"You caught me right in the middle of a piss," he said. Then he realized what some of my fetishes were, or had been.
"As a matter of fact," he continued, some of the drops are soaking into the cotton of my underpants."
Before I could explain what had happened to me, Bill took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom. I had once thought that he was shy, but now I saw other sides of his personality.
He seated me on the bathtub beside the toilet as he took out his cock and finished his piss. I watched, admiring him.
There were a few drops still clinging to the fleshy rod when I placed my hot mouth on it. I sucked on the head, and then I swallowed it, moving further down on him.
I bobbed my head back and forth on the fine length of man-meat.
"Let's go into the bedroom," I suggested, taking my mouth from his penis just long enough to make the suggestion.
"But I thought that you...."
"Never mind what you thought," I told him.
'Ill explain it all to you later. Now, I just want us to go to bed where we can get lost in each other's love."
Bill smiled broadly.
"Come on, baby," he said sweetly. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I'm going to give you the sweet fucking you deserve."
It was such a new experience for me. I just could hardly believe that it was happening, but it was, and even though I wasn't used to it, I had to welcome it.
It was funny, but things happened in cycles. At first, I was not satisfied with ordinary sex. It bored me. I. needed something more. Something much more. After finding the ultimate of "more" in Master Marty, I was now ready to find another kind of ultimate. The ultimate of love.
"You have beautiful hair," Bill told me. He was playing with it, running his fingers through it, and when we were naked on the bed, he wrapped the long strands around his swelling prick.
"I used to think of my hair as piss yellow," I giggled, thinking of the color of it, and of my recent experiences. "But I think it's closer to champagne in color, don't you?"
"Yes, I do," Bill smiled. "I do."
He had been gentle with me from the beginning. He had taken his fingers and unbuttoned my blouse, undressing me. It was exciting. I felt tingles and they were new kinds of tingles. Still, they coursed .up from my pussy and filled my entire body. It was as exciting as the sex I shared with Marty. But it was different, and I felt more free with Bill.. Bill pressed his body on top of mine. He pressed his strong chest into mine, so that I felt his hairy chest against my full breasts.
We kissed long and deep. He ran his tongue inside my mouth. I sucked on it.
This was rapture. I guess the most exciting part of it was when he started to whisper those "sweet nothings" in my ear. His lips kissed the lobe. His tongue explored inside. And then his warm breath cooing all those sweet things started.
It was so different from the treatment that Master Marty used to give. When Marty spoke into my ear, it was with curses. He would tell me what a cunt I was. He would tell mt that I deserved punishment and that if I dared to go against his wishes, his whims, the punishment would be longer and harder.
Another difference was that while Bill kissed and licked my ear, Marty used his teeth. My ear lobe was still sore from the grinding that Marty had given it. But the soft kisses and mouth caresses of Bill sort of made it all feel better.
"I know that you like it rough," Bill said, when his cock was deep inside of my juicing pussy. "I used to like it rough," I answered. "I'm not so sure about that now."
But Bill was very smart. He was smarter than I had ever given him credit for being. He knew that even though I wanted to get into love instead of painful sex, there had to be a transition. He told me that it shouldn't be such a sudden change from degradation to love. He was going to take me from one point to the other, but slowly so that I wouldn't start longing for what I'd become used to with Marty and his dominating ways.
That was when Bill started to really fuck me, and fuck me deep. His cock wasn't as huge as Marty's, but then, to be perfectly honest, Marty's cock was enormously large. It was tremendous.
But Bill sure knew how to use what he had and once he started pumping, there was no stopping him. He fucked me royally. It was deliriously wonderful:
I felt all of the tensions releasing from my body with each thrust of his prick. He kept it up and went faster and faster. I could hear the bed straining with every thrust. My cunt arched up and up, wanting more and more. He gave it.
He went even faster as he approached climax, but just when I thought that he was going to cum, he stopped. He wanted to make this last for hours.
I was all for it. Marty made his sex last a long time also, mainly to make me ache. He used dildos and other tools to keep my cunt filled at all times, even making me sleep with large objects inserted up my ass. He got a kick out of telling his guests that he strapped large objects up the cunts and asses of all of his slave girls so that they would be reminded of their subservient position at all times during the day and night.
I couldn't take the pain of Marty's fucking. This was more pleasure than pain, and Bill wanted it that way. After an hour, he was ready to bring me to orgasm.
He proved that he was skilled at that, also, because whenever he brought to near orgasm, he had stopped, to prolong it for me. But when he was ready for me to cum, he told me so.
"I'm getting ready to squirt a big load, a big love-load," he told me, hotly, still fucking. "Are you ready for me to take you over the edge?"
"Yes, yes, Bill," I moaned. "You've kept up the fucking so long. I'm ready to burst into my own multiple climaxes. I want it to last and last. Make your lover doll cum."
There was a new look on his face. I guess it was determination. Maybe it was concentration. Whichever, it was a sexual look, and it turned me on even more.
He was sensitive to my needs as a woman, and that was now important to me. Marty had been aware of my need for pain, but he had taken me beyond my limits several times in painful sex play. It was play for him, but torture for me. That had been Marty's intent.
"Oh, shit, oh, I'm getting ready to blast," I cried.
I guess that Bill could feel it in my body. I know that I could feel the thickness and strength of his cock getting more and more as he approached his point of no return.
"Yeah, baby," he groaned as his face became twisted in the throes of man-climax. "Cum!"
And I can only imagine what my face looked like as my body contorted uncontrollably in a climax which seemed to last for an hour.
Waves of sex poured over me. This was release like I had never experienced, not even with Marty after the degradations and extreme pain.
I was breathing heavily and so was Bill. He remained deep inside of me. The sweat from our bodies acted as a sort of glue. I knew that when our bodies separated, we would hear a squeaking noise as we pulled apart. But we weren't about to separate so soon. We were breathing together as one unit, one organism. Sexually, we had just been through a lot together.
He caressed me gently after a while, and I did the same to him. I reached down to the connection of his cock inside my well-screwed cunt. I felt the thick shaft of the base of his cock, the only part of prick that wasn't still buried inside of me. I played with the large balls which rested in his hairy, thick-skinned sac.
Then Bill opened my eyes with his fingers so that I looked right at him. I was admiring the depth and manly beauty of his eyes as they squinted slightly. And then he started to do it.
I felt it first as a stream of heat inside my pussy. I couldn't believe it. I didn't even want to believe that it was happening all over again.
But the cunt had been ravaged by the fucking, and the torn membranes were very sensitive. They could feel, without mistake, that it was steaming piss that was being poured into me from Bill's penis!
My jaw dropped and my mouth opened in disbelief. Bill pressed his body into mine as if to let me know without doubt that he wasn't going to pull his prick out of me for anything in the world, my begging or anything.
I could feel it bubbling up inside of me.
"I piss a lot," Bill told me. "I always have, since I was a little kid. In fact, I used to piss into balloons and throw them out the window. You know, instead of water balloons, I'd make piss balloons and drop them on people. They'd splatter all over and the people would stink."
I was stunned. I just didn't know what to do or say.
After all the ordeals I had been through, and after making a resolution to change for the better, it seemed as if I had met up with still another piss master!
How could it be? Did I bring out that quality in men? Did I attract them?
"There are no mistakes and no accidents in life," Bill told me as he pulled his prick out of my pussy. Some of the golden shower dripped out down my leg.
"Into the jphn," he told me as he pulled my naked body with him into the bathroom. He told me to lie down in the bathtub.
"On your back."
My still-sweaty body was clammy on the cold bottom of the tub. Bill straddled the tub, with his feet on either side of it. The entire scene unavoidably reminded me of Marty and his tactics.
Bill squeezed the head of his dick. A few drops of piss were coaxed from it. I figured that he was going to shake the final drops of piss from his prick. After all, he had already fucked a load of scum up my cunt and followed it with a full load of piss.
But I was wrong. As Bill said, he did a lot of pissing. He stood there and I watched his muscles strain. Suddenly, a new gush started. He soaked me with a stream of piss which he directed at my face, hitting me on my head, in my mouth, and when I had to spit out the mouthfuls I couldn't swallow, they landed all over me.
Bill directed his flow down my breasts, making certain to hit each nipple with his piss. Then downward until my navel was filled with piss, and downward still again, hitting me from head to toe.
"Now just stay there," Bill said, when he finally had finished; finally shaking those last drops from the piss slit. "Just stay there and stew in it."
He turned out the bathroom light. He slammed the door, leaving me alone in the tub of his piss. I looked up into the blackness and wondered what would become of me. My chance for love and freedom had gone down the toilet, and I mean that literally.
I had thought that at last I had found somebody who would love me without abuse. Bill had said that he would slowly bring me back from degradation to love.
But his new treatment of me rivaled even the sadism of Master Marty.
When he finally allowed me to leave the tub, it was the next morning!
He had forced me to sleep in the wet tub. I caught a chill.
In the morning, I heard sounds coming from the other room. I hated to think what they were, but when Bill called into the bathroom and told me that I could come out, I knew for sure that my worst fears had been realized.
To further torment me, Bill had a naked girl in the apartment. Not only that, she was in his bed! The very bed that we had shared.
"Watch me fuck her," Bill told me. "Watch the way my dick goes in and out of her, just the way it did in and out of you."
The sadist!
The girl didn't seem to mind. Either she was a slut, or a nympho, or just didn't care. After all, she was the one getting the great fuck. I was the one who was being humiliated.
"No way!" I shouted. "No, you're not going to do this to me! I trusted you. I even told you about all I had been through. But you are using it all against me."
I was speaking from my heart. The words flowed out of me. There was anger to be released. Again, I had been used. But only because I trusted someone who was out for my pussy. He told me he loved me, but words aren't enough. He just wanted my pussy.
I gathered my things and left in a huff. Bill demonstrated his true feelings about me by continuing to fuck the girl without even trying to stop me.
But I can tell you, I walked out of that apartment a proud and free woman.