Urine Soaked and Free — Condoms Are a Luxury for the Meat Toilet Girl! - 8
"Haaahp… chuuup… chuuup… chuk…!"
Even so, some scrap of human instinct still clung to the meat toilet bitch. I could feel her licking the cunt juice off the top of my foot while instinctively steering clear of the filthiest spots.
I considered grabbing her by the hair and drilling the lesson in again, but decided to let it slide for now. There would be plenty more chances to train her after this. Better to take the progress slow.
"You soaked my foot in cunt juice while you were busy catching piss?"
"Chuuuup… haahp… haaahp…! Uuup…!"
Even as she lapped at the mess on my foot, the insult hit home and she reacted at once.
I pulled my phone out again.
Click!
I snapped another shot of the bitch-dog on her knees, bent over and licking my foot. Where cunt juice had been, her own spit now glazed the top of my foot.
Figuring I had toyed with her enough, I seized a fistful of her hair and hauled her upright.
"Uuuung…!"
A short whimper escaped as her body came up off the floor.
"Ugh, the stink…!"
"Uuu…"
The toilet bitch's face reeked of piss. The moment I wrinkled my nose and said it, she let out a little moan laced with shame and resentment.
"Stand up."
"Yes…!"
I granted her a brief return to being human. The bitch-dog who had been on her knees rose to her feet.
I pulled the bloomers back onto her.
"Ah—!"
The faintly damp fabric touched her pussy and the cool sensation wrung a soft sound from her throat. I tugged the panties snug so her Y-zone stood out cleanly. The panty line pressed in just enough that the mound plumped up again, full and thick.
"Get in there."
"Yes…!"
I pointed at the bathtub. The bitch-dog climbed in obediently and stood waiting.
"Stay standing."
"Yes…"
I left her on her feet and turned on the shower.
Shhhhhhhhh…
Water hissed out. I twisted the faucet until the temperature felt right, testing it on my hand, my arm, my leg. Once it was good enough, I aimed the spray straight at the toilet bitch's face.
"Ubvbbup!! Ephphup!!!"
The second the water hit her face she made the same thrashing, drowning noises she had when the piss hit her. I worked the shower down from her piss-smeared face to her chin, her throat, her collarbones, her chest, her back, her belly. She ended up soaked through like a drowned rat.
The tank top shoved up over her tits, the bloomers I had just put back on her, and the thigh-high socks all began to drink the water. From the D-cup cleavage left bare by the hiked-up top, droplets beaded and fell; others ran down the curves, gathered on her nipples, and dripped to the floor.
"Ephphphup!! Keuk… kek!! Puuuup…!!!"
Water must have gone up her nose when I hit her face; she coughed lightly. I ran the spray slowly from face to chest to belly to pussy to legs, then lifted it again and started over from the crown of her head.
"Haahp… uuup… puuup…! Haahp…!"
Water poured over the top of her skull. Her hair plastered down like a wet curtain, veiling her face. Saturated strands dripped steadily into the tub, and the runoff vanished straight down the drain.
I aimed at her face again and opened the spray.
"Puuuuuup!!!! Ephphphphup!!!! Puuuup!!!!"
The meat toilet bitch jerked her head aside the instant it hit, thrashing, unable to collect herself. Water sheeted down her face, soaked the tank top even heavier, ran through the valley of her breasts, painted wet trails across her belly, and soaked the crotch of the bloomers until it looked like she was pissing—droplets falling in fat beads from the fabric over her pussy.
When I decided she was clean enough, I shut the faucet off.
"Puuup… haahp… uhup…!"
The toilet bitch stared up at me, pitiful. Her hair hung like wet seaweed, some of it stuck to her shoulders, the rest plastered to her cheeks and trailing down her neck. The blue sleeves and white chest of the tank top were so thoroughly soaked they had turned into a sheer see-through look, clinging and transparent.
"Don't move."
"Uuup…!"
I tugged the tank top back down. The fabric skimmed her nipples and a thin moan slipped out of her. With her chest covered again I took a moment just to look.
Before, the top had only been lightly translucent, still offering a little cover. Fully soaked, it might as well have been clear plastic—breasts and nipples on full display. The way it glued itself to her skin made her stiff, jutting nipples stand out even harder.
My gaze dropped lower. Water still sheened her waistline; her navel looked slick and glossy. Leftover rivulets on her belly caught the bathroom light and shone almost white. Further down, the blue bloomers had drunk so much water their color had deepened nearly to navy. Residual wetness still ran down her thighs, but from the Y-zone over her pussy, drops had begun to fall one by one—like a baby who had gotten so worked up she wet herself. The streams that ran her thighs had soaked the thigh-highs completely. The long white socks, thin to begin with, turned nearly transparent once wet, baring the flesh they had been meant to hide.
"Now you look fuckable."
"Ah—… puup…! Kek… kekek…!"
Water must still have been in her nose; the bitch-dog covered her mouth in front of me and kept coughing.
"Strip. Everything."
"Y… yes…!"
She started with the thigh-highs. The waterlogged socks clung to her skin like a second layer. She worked her fingers under the fabric at her thighs and peeled one sock down slowly—thigh, knee, calf, ankle, toes—until it came free. She did the same with the other leg, then set both sodden socks on the sink.
"Hey."
"Yes…!"
"Stay standing a second."
"Yes…"
I left the toilet bitch on her feet and looked her over again. It was a different feeling from when the socks had climbed all the way up her thighs. Bare wet legs against the soaked bloomers gave her a healthy, athletic edge. That slim waist flowing into thick thighs, meeting the bloomers stretched over her Y-zone, only made the whole picture filthier.
"Uuung…!"
Feeling my stare, the bitch-dog fidgeted near her womb, shy and flustered.
"…Fine. Top first."
"Yes…!"
She peeled the tank top away from the skin it had glued itself to. As the thoroughly see-through fabric came up, her breasts spilled free; it brushed her nipples, bared her collarbones, briefly veiled her face. Then the top was off and laid on the sink.
Her nipples and areolae showed a soft light brown. The nipples were still stiffly erect. A mix of playfulness and the urge to torment her made me flick one with a fingertip.
"Uuung… haaung…!♥"
She jerked her chest back and shuddered all over, feeling it. She looked like she could barely keep her heat-drunk body under control.
"Panties too."
"Yes…"
At last she started on the bloomers. Both hands hooked the waistband at her hips and eased them down, the motion almost like she was about to take a piss. The fabric slid over her thighs, past her calves, all the way to her ankles. She stepped free, picked them up, and set them on the sink with the rest.
"Uuuung…!"
The meat toilet bitch stood completely naked now.
"Come out here."
"Yes…!"
One foot after the other, she stepped out of the tub.
"On all fours."
"Yes…!"
I put her down on hands and knees like a dog.
"To the bed."
"Yes…"
She started forward one paw at a time, crawling toward the bed like a dog, hips swaying, pussy and asshole on full display as she went.
Master turned the shower on my piss-soaked body and started at my face.
The first blast hit me like the piss had, and I thrashed and sputtered the same way, making drowning noises. After he had washed me thoroughly, he ordered me to strip myself.
I started with the thigh-highs, peeled slowly from skin they had glued themselves to. One leg, then the other. Then Master made me stop and stand still.
"Uuuung…!"
I could feel his eyes on me, studying. That gaze traveling from my chest down over my thighs made my body—still warm from the water—feel hot all over again.
When he finished looking, he told me to keep going. Tank top and bloomers both. Off completely.
Once I was naked, he ordered me out of the tub and down on all fours. On hands and knees like a dog, I crawled toward the bed at his command, rocking my hips side to side as I went.
"Get on the bed. Ass up. Pussy and asshole where I can see them."
"Yes…!"
I reached the foot of the bed, climbed up as ordered, and presented myself like a specimen laid out for inspection—pussy and asshole aimed straight at him, fully exposed.
Clink… clink…
It sounded like Master was gathering something. Face-down as I was, staring straight ahead, I had no idea what he was bringing.
A moment later I heard him coming back, something in his hands.