Intruder Breaches into a New Bondage Situation
I awake, and still feel Master's urine at the back of my throat. I gulp down a pint of water from the bedside table, only to realize it was a mistake as I burp, and the foul odor intensifies.
Usually, Master allows me to wash and brush my teeth before bed, but he makes me drink his final pee of the day just before chaining me to the bed to sleep.
He's hard as a rock, as he typically is before waking. I stare at the hairs on his wrinkled scrotum, and listen to the dawn chorus of his snoring.
I've dedicated my life to serving this remarkable man. I committed to this role even before meeting him. The terms of my servitude were outlaid in emails, and when I first arrived at his doorstep six months ago, I wore precisely what he instructed, including the butt plug and ball gag he had me acquire with my last paycheck.
Now, Master covers all expenses. Although I didn't seek this position to escape the workforce, I was comforted by the bonus. He's a wealthy, kind, and successful man.
I asked him if I could earn by using my body instead of my intellect, as I had been. He helped me find other rich men online. They came to the house, abused and degraded me, urinated on me, fucked me, and filmed me, before paying Master in cash. With the cash he provided me with, he purchased a fucking machine - a large piston-powered dildo, which he leaves me tied to for hours on end. He asked if I wanted to earn more money, which he would use to buy another fucking machine for my rectum. I said yes, hopefully, he's still arranging this.
The alarm clock beeps lightly at 8:00 AM, alerting me but not Master. I place my lips around his penis and begin what he terms his 'alarm.' As it hits the back of my throat, he gradually wakes. I sense his hands on the back of my head, pushing me deeper and deeper. I try my best to open my throat before this, coating him with my saliva, and lining up my jaw correctly. If I don't, it can hurt significantly.
Master has extraordinary endurance, sometimes managing to last for hours, and a single intercourse routine often includes my vagina, anus, and mouth, a few times each. I dislike tasting my own poop on his penis, but I prefer it to the idea of it entering my vagina immediately. In the mornings, however, I only blow him, and eventually I feel him orgasm in my mouth, followed by the usual sensation of urine protruding from his gradually softening penis.
I swallow a few mouthfuls, but leave the last in my mouth, knowing how much he enjoys having me dribble it down my body, drying on my skin for me to wear for the day. He calls it my urine suit, and once dry, he enjoys watching me lick myself.
I'm a highly flexible servant now, and skinny, a result of the sparse diet he enforces, and a variety of unconventional workouts.
"We'll have a visitor later, slave."
I nod, my mouth still full of urine. My cheeks bulge out, displaying the occasional drip rolling down my chin and onto my unnaturally large chest, another gift from Master.
Please God, I pray, let it be more clients for me to prostitute myself to, or women, anything that I may fuck to earn a mechanical throat-fucker.
"She's eighteen, flat-chested, and, supposedly, a virgin. You're to teach her the ways of the house, and, unfortunately, she'll sleep with us now. We'll make you a kind of kennel."
Another slave, I ponder, am I not fulfilling enough? I strive to perform everything to his liking. Maybe my vagina isn't tight enough, despite the various exercises I've learned online. There's nothing I won't do. When we corresponded, I set boundaries, but these days, I perform anything he requests.
"Swallow, slave, don't want you to be too dirty for our guest."
I swallow, saddened by the thought of not wearing a urine suit today. I used to wear clothes, occasionally, demeaning ones he would buy for me or sew. But he decided complete nakedness was preferable.
"Sir, is she a slave like me?"
"Yes, she is, or will be soon."
"Am I not sufficient for you anymore?"
I'm almost shedding tears at the thought of having to share this wonderful man with another.
"I just decided there were more opportunities with two. Trust me, if I could make you into two bodies, I would. But I can't."
"Thank you, sir, for your flattering remarks. Is there anything else you need?"
"What time is it?"
"Nearly nine, sir."
"Then there isn't time for anything else. She'll be here at noon, and I must take a shower. Prepare the usual for breakfast."
"Yes, sir. May I please use the bucket first, sir?"
"You may."
When I wake up, my master hits my bum hard. It hurts, but I feel grateful for it. In one corner of the room, I bend over and pee a bit, and then poop. Since no other instructions were given, I then go downstairs and start making breakfast.
A ring on the door happens at 8:32. My master tells me to go answer it, so he follows me to the door. "Eight-Thirty!" he yells before she can even speak. The girl, completely naked, doesn't know how she managed to get here.
"I'm sorry, there was traffic."
"Not good enough. There's poop in a bucket upstairs. Give me a good reason why I shouldn't make you eat it right now."
"I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again --"
"How could it? You'll never leave this house again."
"I won't do anything wrong again, sir. And I will eat that poop immediately if you want."
"Fuck! It's poop. A large brown poop. Say it."
"Poop. I will go and eat that poop right now, if you ask me to. The large brown poop."
"Come in."
"Thank you, sir."
The girl never once looked at me, but I'm assuming she's seen me.
"This is my slave. She's been my slave for a few months. And she will be showing you the ropes around here. I've decided not to use your vagina just yet. I want to save it for a special time in the future. But when I use my thing, you will clean both of us up."
"Yes, sir."
"Have you ever tasted sperm before?"
"No, sir."
"Or vagina?"
"Once, sir, in school. It was an all-girls boarding school. One of the girls made me her servant, taking care of chores, homework, and cooking. And one time, when she was drunk, she made me eat her. I don't think she enjoyed it, but I did."
"Good. I like that story. Do you like that story, slave?"
"I do."
"And you?" he asks the girl.
"I love it."
This was impolite of me to say, so he slaps me hard across the face.
"Sorry, sir."
"What a disgusting display. I told you to behave yourself for the new girl."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Now, you have something inside you. Turn around, new girl."
I can't see anything inside her bum, but my master tells me to grab her pants from inside her and bring them to him.
"Tie this around her head," he orders me. I do as he says and tie the poop-stained pants around her head. She gags at the taste. I've only tasted my master's poop and my own. And I'll have to get used to a new person's. I might also have to serve a girl if I'm ordered to.
No longer allowed to sit down on the sofa or on any furniture, I just know that when my master decides to have sex with her, he'll ignore my vagina and only use her virgin one, and I'll be the one cleaning it up.
I've never eaten pussy before, and she's had experience with it, making me really jealous. I didn't go to a pricey girls school; I attended a regular public high school, and my only other experience was in a secluded area behind the sheds.
Master and the girl become so close they could be husband and wife, he then lets her come into the house and sit on the sofa in the front room. I'm not allowed to sit on the sofa anymore. My arse once rested on the bucket because I peed on it instead of squatting, and he made me hold in my pee all day.
"You must be really horny from your trip," Master says to her. "How about a little introductory orgasm?"
"Yes, sir, I'd love that very much."
"Slave, get ready to please her with your fingers. You're gagged so you'll have to do it this way."
I make my way over to her now spread legs, and finally get a closer look at her gorgeous pussy. It's obvious that she'll no longer have any interest in my saggy one. I start rubbing her lips, discovering that she's already soaked through. I guess she's a clit girl, so I rapidly move up towards it, gently fiddling with it.
Master gently kisses her, caressing her delicate breasts, and offering romantic attention.
After a few minutes, she climaxes, drenching my face with her juices and making noises into Master's mouth.
"Oh my god, thank you so much, Master. Can I tell you something, though?"
"Certainly."
"I've never had an orgasm before."
"What a joy. All the more reason to be honored for having given you yours."
Master instructs me to clean her off, but he doesn't even glance at my face to convey the command. As I do, they continue to passionately kiss, until she inquires: "Master, may I use the bathroom if I may?"
"Of course. Would you prefer to use the bucket upstairs or have my other slave swallow it?"
"Errrrmmm ... "
"You're worried about upsetting her? I have an idea. Why not ask the pussy if she would mind drinking your urine?"
I lower my head slightly, still gagged by the soiled underwear, and recognize that even if I could speak, I couldn't say I didn't mind, for fear of punishment. Then, this girl, whom I hardly know and who was late and yet still reclines on the couch and is tenderly kissed by my master and who achieved an orgasm more recently than I have, begins to pee into my mouth.
The flavor is terrible – far worse than my master's urine, or my own, or the men's from the rich customers he would bring home. Why am I so enraged by her? – just because she's another woman? The men I was fine with, even cherished, and some of them barely showered, and treated me as a masturbatory toy.
Swallowing her urine is the foulest thing I've done in this house. Especially as, while she continues to pee, Master lovingly supports her breasts and strokes her face. I realize he said he'd rather have two of me, but he's hardly even using one of me thoroughly. I ache for penetrative sex.
Then, abruptly, he gets up and tells us both that he must go to a meeting, and that I should begin training the new slave, and leaves.
Once Master has left, she asks if she can remove the gag, and I eagerly agree.
"I'm really sorry you had to drink my pee."
"Had to! I didn't have to. The bucket was an option!"
"I thought you wanted to be his slave? So I assumed this was part of the game. I wanted to say, 'I'll drink your pee if you want me to. I'll do anything, as long as you make me ...'"
I realize that, yes, this was what I desired, and that the distaste I had felt at consuming her pee was also erotic. So I relent a tad. We both chose to be here. She looked so beautiful for a brief moment.
"I truly enjoyed going down on you."
"Yeah? Would you like me to go down on you?"
"How did you even wind up here naked?"
"I just did. I'm not sure how it happened. I showered and got dressed and ate breakfast and so on before leaving the house. However, I recognized that this was what was transpiring. And then, right before leaving, I took all my garments off and stuffed my panties up my bum and then ran to my car."
" Absolutely bonkers."
"Yeah. It was a bit."
"So, would you like a tour of the house?"
"A tour? That sounds so official. I don't know. I suppose so, though."
I give her a tour of the house, which seems strange. In her master's bedroom, she lies on the bed, and I kiss her for some reason, and she returns the kiss. We know we'll have to do various things to each other, and I suppose it's nice to just do them out of desire. She inquires if she can make me cum, and I decline because I never enjoy it without explicit consent. She mentions wanting to make amends for making my morning unpleasant, and I suggest she eat the feces in the bucket. I don't understand why I say it; it just crosses my mind as we're making out on the bed, and I'm pointing to the bucket, knowing she's already seen it.
She quickly goes to the bucket and heads toward it, seemingly eager to make amends. I stop her and say that I'm joking. She scurries over and kisses me again. I taste my feces on her fingers before leading her to fondle my pussy. Although I'm not a lesbian, the sensation of her hands on my body, especially on my clit, is marvelous.
'Tell me about the girl at school.'
'Which one?'
'You know, the one who made you lick her.'
It was a lie. I knew it. The story was too perfect, too steamy, too similar to porn. I threaten to tell her master, and she suggests he wouldn't believe her and that if she wanted to, she could ruin me here. And I know she's correct — young virgin, smooth, perfectly delectable skin, likely knows many things I don't. I wanted to be a sisterly figure for her, yet I already feel dominated.
'Let me show you the rest of the house.'
Immediately upon entering the playroom, she approaches the fucking machine, and after a few seconds of stroking its cock, she takes it entirely into her mouth.
'Should I turn it on?'
She declines, still occupied with the machine's mechanical dick.
'Just testing it out.' She explains to me after her finished using my equipment, which I bought with my earnings from my vagina.
I grab a whip from the wall and attempt to hurt her. She only gives a slight yelp, and it's evident that it's all just play. Feeling the need for higher stakes, I disclose certain aspects of life in the house: 'So life here's mostly good, with the occasional exception. My master has a bizarre interest in menstruation: he restrains me during my period, for several days at a time, over a small container, before making me drink it at the end. The first few times, I vomited a lot: he collects that, too....'
Her confidence shatters slightly, and I take it further: 'He also makes a majority of his money from his girls, selling them. It's usually older men — wheelchairs and walkers — so it's not too bad. Have you ever suck an older man's cock?' No response. 'Considering everything, there is an incontinent man, a really nice guy, but he enjoys analingus....'
She becomes enraged and storms out of the room, returning with my feces in her hand: 'No! No! Stop! Don't be crazy. We'll both be severely punished. He could even toss you out.'
'Bitch!'
'Please don't throw it. Don't throw that!'
I envision feces splattered on the walls or on my equipment, and I know I'd probably bleed from the beating if that occurred. However, it's been a while since I've experienced one, and I truly love those beatings. I almost consider prompting her to throw it when she rams it toward my mouth.
Dude, have you ever experienced something wild and crazy before? Well, I'm about to tell you a story that will blow your mind.
A reader once shared their dark secret with me. They've never consumed poop in their life. It was one of those things they avoided, and surprisingly, their dominator never tried it out either. They've endured horrible tasks involving their own and their master's feces, like rimming multiple times, even when their partner wasn't thoroughly cleaned. But they've never actually munched on poop.
You won't believe it, but this was their first time dealing with their own and it was because some random slave chick forced them to. And here's the kicker, their master wasn't even present at the time.
But let me tell you, they had to suppress their disgust to respect their dignity. They opened their mouth and accepted the poop, chewed it, and resisted their gag reflex. Throwing up at that point would've been a total loss of self-respect to this slave girl.
So, they decided to finish what they started. They drank some water to cleanse their palette and then apologized to her. They indulged in some more cuddling, and she showed them the rest of their house.
Later, they remembered the bathroom bucket! They'd better hide their dirty deeds before their master came back home.
"You must poop in this bucket," they instructed her, afraid of the upcoming awkward encounter with their master. Curiously, as the girl sat on the bucket, she started to understand her new limitations. I hugged her, playing with her nipples and kissing her neck, making sure her gaping anus remained discreet. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
We had a strange conversation, sharing our twisted desires, both driven by their mutual love for their master. She thought it would be awesome to do this vile task all day, every day, just for him.
She decided to re-gag me and we shared a passionate kiss. She gave me their soiled panties to chew on and bound my mouth with rope once more.
"How many times a day does he let you cum?" she enquired, trying to understand their rhythm. I pointed to the gag and shook my head. "A week?" she guessed, raising her fingers up to two and then a third. "And you won’t let me give you an orgasm?" she asked. I shook my head again.
We continued this bizarre chat in the living room when their master walked in...
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