i am my Master’s piss slut.
It started months ago. i was begging Master to let me suck his cock, and He asked me for a list of what other things my mouth was good for besides His cock. i had a feeling where He was going, but i tried pretty much everything else i could think of before saying “You could pee in my mouth, Sir.” If i wanted to suck His cock, he told me, i had to beg Him to pee in mouth. i really wanted that gorgeous hard cock in mouth, and part of me didn’t actually believe that He would do something like that, so i begged Him for it. Begged Him to piss in my mouth.
He didn’t – not that day – but the seeds were planted, and my training as His piss slut began.
While my Master isn’t beyond forcing me to submit, He gets much greater pleasure in planting an idea in my mind and letting it grow there until it takes on a life of its own. He wants me to beg for it, and beg for it not because He’s commanded me to, but because it’s become a part of me, part of my wants, needs, fantasies, desires.
And so it was with becoming His piss slut. The idea was implanted in my mind, in fantasies and images He whispered in my ear, and it took root there. Grew, blossomed, until it was the one fantasy that was guaranteed to get me off, the one that i would turn to when nothing else was working. On my knees, sucking His hard cock until He came in my mouth, then waiting there until His cock softened and He filled my mouth with His other liquid. Swallowing it eagerly, without spilling a drop.
In the weeks leading up to our visit, He pushed me further, making me piss myself daily, urine running down my legs and pooling at my feet as i stood in the dry shower stall. Every act of elimination became eroticized, until just the thought of going to the bathroom was enough to make my cunt wet. He promised me that if i was a very good girl on our trip, then He would give me my reward, piss on me and in me, make me His piss slut in every way.
And so it was that Tuesday afternoon found me standing in the bathtub of our hotel room, staring at myself in a full wall mirror. My hair was wild from fucking and sucking, my face flushed with arousal. My collar – His collar – around my neck. Naked except for a pair of 4-inch stiletto heels. And my Master standing beside me, telling me it was time, time for me to be his piss slut. Telling me to ask him, to beg him for what it was that i wanted.
“Please, Sir, please let me be Your piss slut. Please make me Your piss slut.”
It is hard for a woman to piss standing up. Even harder when she is aroused and being asked to piss on command. But eventually i managed, and slowly my urine began to trickle down my legs and splatter on the floor of the bathtub. When i finished, my Master ordered me down on my knees and had me lick clean every inch of my shoes. i was shaking, trembling with my submission, at once aroused and terrified of what i knew was coming next.
He stepped into the bathtub with me. i knelt, facing Him.
i took a deep breath. Found the center of my submission. Took another breath.
“Please, Sir, please pee on your slavegirl.”
“And?” he prompted me.
“Please pee in your slavegirl’s mouth.”
Turns out it’s hard for men to piss on command and while aroused too. i waited, anticipation, anxiety, arousal, fear, all building. And then my Master began to pee on His slavegirl. i put my mouth to His cock, smelled and tasted His urine filling my mouth. i swallowed, choking from the acrid acidity.
Master handed me my dildo, and commanded me to masturbate and come for Him. i was on my knees on the hard floor of the bathtub, slippery from my piss and His piss combined. Here it was, the culmination of weeks of fantasizing, and i felt raw and dirty, truly like a slavegirl. The dildo slid effortlessly into my cunt, my wetness betraying the arousal that mixed with my fear and dismay. As i fucked myself and rubbed my clit, my Master peed on me again, on my chest, my back, my face, my hair. When he finished peeing on me, i came hard with His cock in my mouth, just sucking it, not drinking from it.
Master pulled me out of the bathtub and into the shower, holding me and praising me for being his good girl, telling me how much He loved me. Kissing me.
i thought i was fine by the time we got out of the shower, but shortly after that i had a meltdown. This was the hardest thing my Master had ever asked me to do. It was intense beyond measure. For all my fantasies, the reality had been much more demeaning and much less arousing than my imagination. i curled myself into a little ball. i hyperventilated. i cried, with shuddering long breaths. Although long showered away, i could still feel the spots on my back where His urine had landed, and i rolled on my back on the floor, trying to wipe that feeling away.
My Master let me get it out, watching me carefully. Then He held me close to Him, brought me back to myself, brought me back to Him. Kissed me tenderly, stroked my hair. Fed me lunch.
That was the first time. There were others, and i’ll probably write about them too, but that was the first. That is when i became my Master’s piss slut.