Amanda's Toilet 3

I have really enjoyed writing these confessions to you, and have decided to keep them going, like a little diary. I won't write all the time, only when there's a bit of a development, because it can be pretty mundane, in that weird kinky sort of way that consuming someone's waste is mundane.

This week, however, has been particularly odd. So I think this might be long one. It was fun, and scary, in a really exciting way.

Once we got back from the Cotswolds nothing was really mentioned about what had happened. It had been the first time I'd seen a cock in a while, or taken one into my mouth, or swallowed a man's cum. In fact, it had been the first time a few other things had happened...

We got back into our regular routine: topless, lie down, piss (or shit), clean, done. We had sex a couple of times: loving (I don't wish to say ordinary, but certainly not unusual) sex. And then, on Sunday, a week since we got back from our holiday, when Amanda said she needed to piss, I said, a little impromptu: 'actually, I wanted to ask you something about that first?'

'You want to kneel, and have me piss at you, like Matt did?'

How the fuck did she know that? I thought. Typical Amanda, always one step ahead of everyone else. I was worried she'd be shocked, or offended, but no, she fucking predicted it.

'Yes. Is that ok?'

'Yeah, if that's what you want, to be covered in piss and have to go and shower.' She seemed a bit put out, or at least she thought I was being stupid, or at least that's how she sounded, and perhaps how she wanted me to think she thought.

'I don't mind.'

'Ok, clothes off.'

'No - I actually -,' she slapped me hard across the face.

'No!' she boomed, 'how dare you start a sentence with NO, to me, you are my fucking toilet!'

'Sorry, miss, yes, miss, it's just that -' she slapped me again, and then grabbed by face, shouting into it: 'Ask me properly, slut!'

'Yes, of course,' - I was trembling at this point, and wet as anything - 'please, miss, would it be ok if I left my clothes on and just knelt down like this?'

'So you want to get your clothes dirty?'

I nodded.

'Tell me you want me to piss on your clothes!'

'Please piss on my clothes, miss!'

'Take off my panties then, pathetic whore.'

I never used to take off her panties. We would always undress each other accordingly. Once I was topless on the floor I was a toilet, an inanimate object, and would remain so until I licked her clean, the only contact of the whole operation. But then again a lot of things were changing. I was becoming her piss slave, rather a different thing all together.

I knelt down first, and then reached over to take off her panties, folding them neatly and placing them out of any possible splash zone. She hitched up her skirt, held her cunt open with two fingers, and pissed, attempting to direct the stream into my open mouth. The first gush landed in my lap, soaking my jeans, and then, as she leant back, and pushed a little harder, it projected better, soaking my breasts, and then hitting my chin. It took several seconds for Amanda to get the stream into my mouth, and even then it fell back down quickly. I must have swallowed at best a tenth of that piss, but I loved even more having it on my skin, feeling it go through my clothes and touch me - my tits hardening from the warmth of it, and my cunt dampening even more than it had been.

Once she was finished she grabbed the back of my head, and pulled me into her cunt. I quickly licked her clean, but she only held me in closer, so I carried on, moving down from her piss hole to her cunt, and tongue fucking her as best I could, rubbing my nose back and forth against her clit.

'Is this what you wanted? To be properly degraded? To be covered in piss, and thrown around, and used, like a cheap whore.'

I desperately tried to nod my head, and murmur 'yes, mistress,' though it became mere vibrations, totally incomprehensible vibrations, lost in the depths of her folds.

After a few minutes, without finishing, she let go and threw be back. Though I attempted to land on my knees I fell backwards into the wall, and had to take a moment to right myself, all whilst trying to catch my breath, that had been so roughly limited by Amanda's beautiful cunt.

'I want you to fist me. Now you know I always squirt when you fist me. So you're going to do it kneeling in front of me.' She sat down on the sofa, and pointed to the gap between her legs.

'Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress.'

'And enough talking. You're always fucking talking. You won't speak again until I tell you. Is that clear?'

I nodded, and scampered over to her, kneeling between her legs and immediately pushing two fingers of my right hand into her cunt. She took these relatively easily, and I quickly moved up to three. With fisting its about always going a bit further, sometimes moving up a level when it might seem too soon. You never want to give the cunt any time to relax. Once I had four fingers in, my whole hand minus the thumb, getting closer and closer to the knuckle, I brought my head down to lick at her clit as well. I started to notice trickles of liquid coming out of her, and thought she might be close, so I whipped my thumb in and pushed as her as I could, making her scream and throw back her head.

The orgasm was one of the best I'd ever given her, and she did indeed squirt. I leant back, choosing to have her splatter my face rather than squirt right into my mouth, and she smiled down at the sight of her cum bouncing off my face.

'I'd like you to remain my slave for the rest of the day. Is that ok with you?'

I nodded, smiling. This hadn't happened in ages, not really - not unless you count the shower in the Cotswolds. Just hearing the word 'slave' sent shivers down my tits. I couldn't wait. I wanted everyone all at once, and yet I also wanted the pain of having to wait.

She ordered me to clean up, and then went back to reading her book in the bedroom, with the strict instructions that I was not to disturb her, or to undress or clean myself in any way.

I squelched as I walked into the kitchen to fetch the mop, and my cunt chaffed a little from a combination of my own sweat and juices, and my mistress's piss.

To my disappointment she remained behind the door for hours, and after cleaning everything up I got a towel from the bathroom, laid it on the sofa, and sat down to watch some television. After a couple of hours I needed a piss myself: I knew that I shouldn't use the bathroom without permission, but had been told not to disturb her, so I attempted to hold it in as long as I could, and squirmed for a bit on the sofa, trying to focus on the television. Eventually I couldn't any more, so I went to the kitchen to get a glass, placed in on the floor of the living room, pulled down my wet trousers and panties, and knelt over the glass.

She must have heard the piss hitting the glass, because seconds after I stated pissing the door opened, and Amanda walked out, staring, with total poker face, at me pissing into the glass.

'Stop,' she said quietly, but authoritatively.

I stopped as quickly as I could, though there was still much in me, but I didn't stand up, scared as to what I might have done, despite attempting so hard to obey her, what I might have done to upset her.

'Stand up and pull your clothes back up.'

It was hard putting the jeans back on, now almost dry, and stiff from the piss that had hardened the fabric.

'Now you may finish.'

I stared at her as I pissed, resoaking my clothes. It started to drip down my legs, and some of it dripped onto the floor. A foot away from me was the half full glass of urine, which drew both of our attentions once I had finished.

After a few still moments, the silence pregnant with the imminent feeling of possible punishment, she walked over and picked up the glass

'Don't move,' she said, as she held it over my head, and started to pour it onto my hair, dripping down onto my face, as well down the back of my shirt.

'Not wishing to disturb me or to use the toilet you decided to piss in the glass and leave it for me to decide later?'

I nodded.

'Good girl. That was the right thing to do.'

'Thank you.'

The glass was empty, and she placed in on the floor before slapping me across the face.

'I told you not to fucking speak. And to think I was about to reward you.'

I bowed my head in shame. Piss from my fringe dripped out and hit my feet.

She put her hand down my panties, and grabbed roughly at my cunt, holding my whole body just with one hand, and inserting her middle finger into me.

'I have invited Alice over this evening for some drinks. You are not to speak one word for the entire evening, or change out of these filthy clothes. If you are good then after she goes I will allow you to shower, and then, maybe, I'll fuck you.'

I nodded. Though she had not even asked my compliance at this stage.

She removed her hand from my cunt, got the towel from the sofa and used it to dry my chest, undoing two buttons of my blouse as she did so.

'Go and get a pen from the desk, find a mirror, and write 'Alice's piss slut' across your tits. Then kneel by the door and wait to let your new mistress in.'

She walked back into the bedroom and closed the door.

Alice arrived about half an hour later. I had knelt bored out of my skull by the door, having followed her instructions as best I could. The writing was a little unsteady, but I think just about readable.

I managed to open the door whilst still kneeling down, and Alice laughed when she saw me.

'Are you my little slut this evening?'

I nodded.

'Well isn't that nice?'

I nodded again.

She closed the door behind her, walked behind me, knelt down and placed her hands around to feel my breasts. After a little bit of fondling, over and eventually under my blouse, she placed her hand down the back of my pants, and placed her finger over my anus.

I heard her tut in my ear. 'Now we can't have that. I like my slaves plugged, at all times.'

'Well then let's get her plugged,' I heard Amanda's voice come from behind Alice.

They led me into the front room, where Alice stripped me and Amanda went to get some lube for my arse. The girls fingered my arse together, first one finger each, and then two, before Alice said 'now what's the biggest you've got.'

We bought a set of five butt plugs a while ago, and had used the first three in the set. The third was already a little big for me, and for whatever reason we hadn't used any of them in a while.

My arse gapped as I waited for Amanda to come back. Alice fingered my tits with the same fingered she'd had up my arse, smearing them with a combination of lube and shit. The largest of the three plugs was placed directly in front of my eyes for me to see, before it was placed against my gaping hole, and pushed into my arse. It took a few seconds, with both girls pushing, for the plug to enter me. And though it was tight, once it did pop in it sat nicely there.

'That's better. Good slaves are always plugged up. How does that feel?'

I nodded.

'She isn't allowed to speak,' Amanda explained.

'Is she allowed to drink piss?'

Amanda nodded.

'Well that's all that fucking matters ain't it?' she said, pushing me onto my back.

It had been a couple of weeks since I'd seen Alice's cunt, or tasted her piss.

After she'd finished I cleaned her, as per, and then, upon instruction, started to eat out her arse. She hadn't wiped, she told us, proudly, in honour of me. I ingested the flecks of shit that clung to the hairs around her anus, before focusing in on the hole. The girls made out above me whilst I did this. Alice moaned 'Amanda' repeatedly, and both ignored my presence entirely. And then, as suddenly as it started, it ended. Alice stood up, Amanda whispered something in her ear, and the girls ran off to the bedroom, with Amanda ordering me to redress and go buy them dinner.

My only clean clothes were in the bedroom, so I was forced to redon the piss-soaked ones. I could feel how badly I must have smelt as I walked down the corridor, desperately trying to work out where would be the best combination of quietest and closest to acquire food, whilst also trying not to think of what my girlfriend and my new mistress were doing in my bedroom. I wondered where I would sleep that night. I was only allowed to talk once Alice had left, but if she stayed the night then what?

I was walking down the road when my phone beeped: a poorly taken phone of Amanda and Alice scissoring. Both girls smiled at the camera, wicked wicked smiles.

I ordered Chinese. They said it would take twenty minutes, so I went into the pub next-door to get a drink. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, with their noses sniffing. I wanted to just tell them, tell everyone, what a pathetic slut I was, and that the smell was the dried piss of myself and my girlfriend's, that I was getting her dinner whilst she fucked one of our best friends, and that went I got back they'd piss on me, and that I would fucking love all of it.

I got a pint and went outside, asked a kindly looking man for a cigarette, and endured his company as I smoked it.

'You look like you've gotten a bit wet there, love, has it been raining?'

'No. I mean, yes, a bit earlier.'

'What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a pub on her own?'

'I've ordered Chinese,' I pointed to the takeaway, 'just waiting for them to cook it.'

The conversation continued, and I got gradually more and more involved, though only in the hope of bagging another cigarette once the first had finished.

I wanted desperately to do something in revenge of my treatment, something to Amanda, and to Alice. I was sitting across from the man, Harry he told me he was called, so I stood up, walked round, and sat down next to him on the bench. I successfully got my second cigarette, and he offered to buy me another drink.

I didn't answer, but instead picked up his hand and placed it in between my thighs, leant in and kissed him. After a couple of seconds of snogging, his hand frozen on my thigh, not daring to move I suppose, I placed my hand on my crotch, and found him to be approaching a serious hardon. I massaged him for a few moments, and then suddenly remembered the Chinese. I jumped up, almost literally. His hand flew away to his lap, covering his stiffy from public view.

'I'm really sorry, Harry, but I've got to go. Do you live nearby?'

He nodded, without speaking: something in common there! I thought.

'Alone?'

He nodded again.

'Give me your address, and I come round and fuck you, soon.'

He plunged into his satchel and started trying to find a pen and paper. The pen he got, the paper he didn't.

'Here,' I said, 'write in on my arm.' And it was at that moment that I remembered what was written across my tits, looking down to my cleavage in horror, before running off entirely in shame.

I was red-faced in the Chinese, and almost crying. I paid the nice lady, who knew I was a piss slut, and then walked home, thinking just how many people must have seen and read my tits.

I got into the flat, and the girls were sat on the sofa in absolute hysterics, clearly having watched me walk down the street from the window. I was mortified, and started crying the minute I got in the door.

They hugged me, and told me I could speak now, and that they hadn't really done anything in the bedroom, only posed for that photo. Eventually I lightened up a bit, though it was sad to think I can never go in that pub again.

The three of us sat around eating Chinese and drinking. I was no longer a slave, at least for the rest of the day: to be honest, I think that was a good thing, it was stressful business. We finished the Chinese and then fucked each other senseless. When Amanda needed to piss Alice asked if she'd piss in her mouth instead, and then when I needed to, I ended up pissing in Amanda's mouth! Which felt very weird indeed.

Obviously things would be back to normal the next day, and they were, but it was fun mixing it up for a few hours. In the morning the three of us woke up, I brought us all breakfast in bed, and then both of them shat in my mouth. Order was restored.

Nothing much out of the ordinary has happened since then. Me and Amanda have gone back to the usual topless lying down thing. Though I'm hoping we ramp it up again later: maybe at the weekend.

If anything more happens I'll tell you. I did tell Amanda about Harry, and she didn't mind too much. It was a good excuse for some spanking though: 'tell me what a filthy slut you are!' she shouted as she made my arse red and my eyes wet. I won't see Harry again, I except. I can't face going back into that pub again.