Showing posts with label toilet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toilet. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

The Belle of the Ball

Continued from: The Cost of Admission

A Sarah Jane story

I arrived to the party like this:


When the party ended, I looked more like this: 


I was shackled up in the filthy urinal room, beside another piss-whore I recently became acquainted with, when a dominant man made me lick her asshole. My once-elegant gown was strewn carelessly aside and soaked in urine. The metallic tang of cum still lingered on my lips, mingling with the bitter taste of piss. There was smeared writing all over my naked body. Words like "whore", "pig", "filthy" and "anal slut". 


In that moment, the writing on my naked body could not have been more true, the room even smelled of poop a-little, having just been fucked in the bum by some random man. 


I had made it through all the degrading stations of the evening. After my toilet brush gag, came a toilet paper gag, while my dress was still pristine and outfit in-tact. 


I had to kneel beside the toilet in a powder room for a few hours, reduced to a human bathroom tissue dispenser!



After this, came the disgusting funnel-gag station!


It was definitely time to wrap this night up and find comfort in Daddy's arms, after a long, hot shower.


As I stepped beneath the warm showerhead, the torrent of water washed away the lingering remnants of piss and cum, restoring a semblance of cleanliness to my degraded body. But my mind seethed, still trapped in the turbulent waves of arousal and humiliation that seemed to feed off one another. 

My thoughts fixated on the memories of being pissed on then sodomized. My fingers danced with a life of their own, diddling my little clit to the memories, until I finally had to reach for the Hitachi. 


In record time, orgasm ripped through me like a seismic event, leaving my legs shaking in its aftermath. I dried off returned to my age regressed status. 

I squeezed into a baby pink onesie, the fabric soft against my skin. The pigtails felt silly, but I went with it, wanting to please Daddy. On all fours, I crawled into the living room where the trio of Daddy, Mistress Andrea and Summer were seated. I half-expected to walk in on some raging threesome of dick and pussy and tits, but they were quite literally watching a movie and eating popcorn. It was cute, Summer was dressed like a little girl too, and was sitting on both their laps like they were Mommy and Daddy. 


Speaking of cute. I felt cute again, not like the filthy piss-whore of my recent experience. I curled into my pet bed in the corner of the room and waited for someone to notice me and call me over.


Of course it was Daddy! His face lit up when he saw me, and he opened his arms. I scurried over, crawling into his lap like an obedient puppy. The other two watched with amusement, and for a minute, everything else melted away. I was Daddy's little girl again, seeking comfort and protection. But as Daddy stroked my hair and asked me how the party was, a spark of shame flickered to life. Last night's depravity replayed in my mind - the piss, the cocks, the toilets - and I felt a dark thrill knowing that Daddy didn't know the extent of my debasement. 

That secret knowledge was turning me on. Grinning mischievously, I wiggled against Daddy's leg, the three crotch-snaps of my onesie rubbing proactively against his pantleg. Mistress and Summer continued snuggling but watched-on with keen interest. "She looks like she wants more, Daddy," they stated in harmony, their voices tinged with sly innuendo. 


I blushed, nodding furtively as the truth spilled forth in a hushed admission. " I was a very, very bad girl tonight, Daddy."

He stood and paused the movie, his hands moving with purpose now. The telltale jingle of Daddy's belt buckle echoed through the room, followed by the unmistakable snap of the leather through jean-loops.

With a quiet sense of resignation, I draped myself across Daddy's lap, feeling the worn denim cradle my tummy, as my bottom was presented into the air. "This is for your own good, young lady," Daddy lectured, each word punctuated by another strike of his belt. Mistress Andrea and Summer just quietly watched my strapping, their faces aglow with mild amusement.


Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Slumber Party










Tuesday, May 16, 2023

Two Days a Captive

Continued from: She was a skater girl

A post from slave sarah

My session with Master had come to end. It ended with his strong masculine embrace, after being released from my cell. I nuzzled my head into his shoulder and thanked Russell sincerely. Not for being released from my cell, but rather, the amazing session he gave me. 


I came to learn later on, that I had spent a total of two days and two nights in that cell, only being hauled out for sexual use, whippings and torture. The most tender and intimate parts of my body ached with tingles of soreness and latent pain. The soles of my bare feet were tender, having felt the lash multiple times. My nipples were sensitive to the touch, from being whipped, clamped and pinched. The back of my throat hurt a little and both my filthy cunt and asshole were puffy, red and abused. 

I felt alive! I felt elated. Everything that just happened to me was exactly what I asked for and everything I had hoped for. 

When Russell sadly bid me farewell, officially brining an end to the multi-day session, Mistress asked if I was ok to sit and blog about my sexual degradation. I told her I was. She kept me fully naked and did not remove my metal collar. She gagged my mouth and set me up at her office desk. Of course all of this, the ritual, the ball-gag and having to shamefully blog about my session was making me aroused all over again. 


I'm not 100% sure where to begin. Much of my session was a blur of my heart racing, ridiculously powerful orgasms, then left in solitude with my thoughts, unable to masturbate because of that fuckin' chastity belt. 

I seem to remember a transition that occurred from one jail-space to another. If you remember back to a previous post of mine, I was bound and gagged in a much smaller cell that only contained a toilet and some shackles. 


Master bound me in such a way that my head was more or less IN the toilet, then he fucked me from behind, good and hard. 

I think at this point we broke scene and with his cum still oozing from my pussy, he did a check-in with me, both emotionally and physically. I think he could see the frenzy of lust in my eyes and he asked me something to the effect of, "you want more don't you? Harder, heavier, more humiliating...?"

I nodded my head in excitement, replying with a "yes Sir." 

He asked me if I had anywhere be for the next few days. Nope...my schedule was clear, just for this BDSM vacation. And gawd did I ever need it, it was truly a slave-cation. 

I think I groaned out loud when Master took me to my new cell and I saw the galvanized farm basin. How horribly humiliating! I actually thought Master was going to hose me down and wash me down like an animal, before using me again. Even contemplating this now, as I write this, I'm dying of humiliation...yet my cunt continues to betray me! Why is this level of degradation so arousing to me? 


Luckily for me, Master locked me in my cell and left, telling me to "freshen up" in private. Also lucky for me, the hose provided came with both hot and cold water. I probably could have used a "cold shower" though, gawd I was so fuckin' aroused! My clit was aching so badly in that Goddamn chastity belt. 


At one point I even tried to use the hose nozzle to spray warm water through the metal screening that housed my pussy. I almost, almost got myself off...groan* almost. 

I tried a a few other positions and moves as well, but it was hopeless. Master had officially taken control of my pussy and my orgasms until further notice. 


I remember laying down at this point, defeated and frustrated. I think I even tried to nap but the deep ache in my pussy and my metal accessories made it difficult. I don't think I was left idle for all that long, before Master returned to use me again. 

He made me stand and squat inside the farm trough, while he fucked my mouth and throat. Eventually his hot cum splashed into my mouth, which I swallowed down immediately. 


I coughed and sputtered, apparently taking too long to thank him for his cum. Master shackled me into a bondage thing outside my cell, that my head and wrists went into. He "reminded me" with his belt, that I was to verbally thank him for his cum, no matter what hole of mine it ended up in. 

"Thank you for your cum Master." He made me cry out loud as he strapped me with his belt. 


I remember being put back in my cell after the belt-thrashing, nursing some very thick welts and crying into my little cot. 

There was still no relief for my naughty cunt, which was more or less gushing through the metal screening at this point. 

The next visit from Master I think it was my tits and nipples, that became the focus of my masochistic desires. A flogger, clothespins, clamps and even electro-pads. I received all of the wonderful and torturous sensations. 


I did manage to sleep through the night, both nights in-fact, despite the rigid chastity belt. The belt was occasionally removed throughout my slavery and I experienced some of the hardest and most ferocious orgasms of my life!

I loved all of the sweet torture and being used repeatedly as Master's fuck toy, but I didn't like the moments where I was left alone and wasn't being cuddled or played with. 


However, this is the session I asked for. When those steel bars rattled shut and my cell was locked, I began to question whether or not some things are best left to fantasy...

I'm glad I got to experience this though. I had a safeword, I didn't use it. I can't picture myself asking for the captive, consensual non-consent option again. I suppose if I disobeyed or misbehaved I could be sent here as punishment, but I wouldn't be looking forward to it!

That being said, when my session ended and before I was turned over to Mistress to sit here and type, I was taken to another room of the house and given an option. This room was very pink and frilly.

I was then given the choice to trade in Master for "Daddy".

This was a very interesting turn of events indeed. I'm not sure what path to choose yet...



slave sarah 

xoxo

Continued in: Age Progression




 

Wednesday, April 12, 2023

Toilet Humiliation and Anal

Continued from: Sarah and Russ return

A post from slave sarah

As I sat naked, gagged and blindfolded in this tiny, locked cell, I caught myself deliberately pulling against the shackles on my wrists and ankles, just to hear the chains jingle and feel the rigid steel.

There was something very alluring to me, about the strict metal bondage and the added weight the shackles provided. Apart from the robust-sized plug up my ass, these were the only sensory stimuli I could feel, in my solitude and captivity. My pussy was shamefully soaked, as Master's words, threats even, that I would soon be fucked in the ass, echoed in my ears.

I had lost track of time but knew that I hadn't been abandoned for all that long, twenty minutes maybe, before I heard footsteps approach. 

The sound of brass clattering against metal shocked me to a hyper-attentive state, as I listened to the heavy cell door unlock with a key. 

My Master had finally arrived for me! To use me for his pleasure and amusement. My headspace was that of an abducted or purchased sex slave, fearful of a beating if I do not do my very best to offer my holes to him. My mind was exactly where I wanted it to be. I was so dreadfully aroused! 

I was roughly manhandled up and onto the cold seat of the toilet and encouraged to pee. I couldn't believe that I actually did, on command! I visualized being led outside, into the yard on a leash and forced to cock a leg and piss. Why was the thought of this so exciting to me? 

My stomach was in knots of embarrassment, as I listened to my urine echo against the water. While I was peeing, my blindfold and gag were removed, my mouth was saturated in drool and his graciously-sized cock was forced into my mouth.


I felt absolutely degraded, dehumanized and humiliated, to be sucking his cock while seated on a prison toilet full of my own urine, but I started to understood his tactic. Who was I kidding, the humiliation was fanning the flames of my deepening arousal. 

Once I had Master super erect and on the brink of cumming, he stood me up and spun me around. A slap to my ass and a gentle push, had me jack-knifed at the waist with my hands resting on the toilet seat. I was bent at the waist and forced to stare at my own golden nectar in the toilet. Master removed my anal plug which must have left my dirty hole a bit gaped for him, as he slid his cock easily into my ass. 

I wanted so badly to touch my pussy. One little tickle of my throbbing clit would have had me cumming instantly. But Master kept one of my arms pinned behind my back and my other was gripping the toilet seat for dear life. I was occasionally thrust up on my tiptoes, and grunted uncontrollably throughout my ass fucking. 

At one point my arms were both pulled behind my back and upward, which forced my head almost into the toilet. It was close enough that I could smell my own piss, as I was still forced to stare at it also. My wrist shackles were connected to some ceiling chains, forcing me into this pose. I think it's called strappado, a stress pose I have seen on porn sites before. I hated it and loved it at the same time. 

A gag was returned to my mouth, a spreader bar added to expose my most intimate parts, and Master's cock never left my asshole until he blasted cum into my bowels. 

Before his gooey seed had the chance to shameful ooze from my anus, he re-seated the anal plug into my stretched hole, to hold all the mess inside me. 

Again I was left, naked and shackled with a squishy, unpleasant feeling up my ass, all while forced to look into and smell a toilet containing my own pee.   

I fucking hated how degraded I felt in this very moment, and fuckin' loved every second of how degrading this experience was.

What a mindfuck huh? I was so conflicted and trapped in this paradox. I didn't know what to do! I did know one thing though...

If I so-much as heard someone's phone vibrate from another room, I would have cum all over my thighs in that very moment!


slave sarah xoxo 

 

Continued in: The Countess of Monte Cristo


 



The Season for Giving

Continued from:  National Treasure As the holidays approached, our household bustled with preparations, the air thick with the scent of pine...