Fulfillment 23

At this point, it's late morning. We've been at the table for a few hours now, each doing our own thing, but I don't think I've been able to focus this whole time. You appear perfectly engrossed; first you finished a podcast episode, then you went to your YouTube subscriptions, and now you're buried in a book. My novel—a Kingsolver—would normally hold my attention for hours, but I can't stop playing with my skirt, thinking about your promise. You, though, barely even move—only to turn a page or refill your water.

Finally, you acknowledge my stare. Smiling, you ask, "How's your book, bunny?"

I know you're teasing me, avoiding the obvious tension, but I go along.

"Oh, it's fine. I really do like it, but I just can't get into it today."

Your mouth crosses the line from smile to smirk, and your eyes narrow slightly.

"Why's that?" You bring your chair closer.

"I'm. . ." My voice falters, and I can't look you in the eyes anymore. "I'm, well, feeling. . . distracted."

Your hand finds my thigh, and I stop my nervous tracing of the skirt's hemline—caught like a deer in headlights.

"So, what would you have me do about that?"

Each word is so smooth, husky, and controlled; in contrast, my heart is fluttering wildly.

"Well," I struggle to form a sentence, sucking in my lips slightly. "You could. . . I mean, I would like you to. . . I, I want you to use me." I force myself to look up again, and our eyes lock.

"What do you say?"

I'm frozen in your gaze.

"Please, Master." I know what to say, but the words are barely audible.

"What? I don't know if I believe you."

"Please, please!" There's a seed of panic as you start to pull away from me. "Please, Master, I need you! I need you to use me—please!"

Another smirk.

"Good." Swiftly, you stand up, taking your glass with you; in one smooth motion, it's empty. I can't help but shudder at the sight.

"Well, are you coming?" Your voice pulls me back.

"Yes, yes," I nod, and I wince as I peel myself off the chair—the skirt is just short enough to have let my thighs stick to the wood. Quickly, I readjust myself, but not quickly enough; you start to gently nudge me in the direction of the stairs. You're following me, of course, no doubt for the show. I can't blame you, though; not only does the tiny skirt barely rest below my ass, but I'm also wearing your favorite thong. Although I wish that I could see, it's enough knowing that you can—I'm here for your pleasure.

Suddenly, before I know it, we're at the top of the stairs. There isn't even a chance to turn and face you when I hear you speak again.

"Go to the bathroom, and your master will meet you there."

The adrenaline is coursing through my veins—

fuck

. I'm shaking slightly; out of nervousness, excitement, or both? With each step, the image of my master degrading me comes closer and closer. Now that I'm in the bathroom, I need him—I need him to fuck me, his gorgeous, disgusting slut, and to use me like the toy I am. I need him to take me completely, oh please oh god oh—

Your hands grab my hips, and I freeze. Through the fabric of your shorts, I can feel your thick dick starting to press against my ass.

"Do you like that?" You hiss quietly.

I think a moan escapes my lips.

"Good."

Slowly and gently I begin to rub my ass against you. Now that I've tasted blood, I want more—I want you to fill me up. I want you to feel relief, I want you to get all the pleasure you deserve, I want you to—

Oh.

Your teeth are sharp on my ear, and the breath is sucked out of my chest. Nothing exists except for you, me, and a dull pain; I love it.

Meanwhile, following this moment of brief surprise, you get back to work. Your hands, which still grab my hips, pull me towards you, and I can feel you humping me. I don't know when you let go of my ear, but you must've; I can hear you talking.

"Fuuuuck. . . I've really gotta piss."

The words make my knees feel weak.

After a moment, you let go of me completely, but I don't move. The bathroom is briefly filled with the sound of your shorts hitting the floor, and I can feel myself growing wetter. With a click, the bottle of lube opens; I hold my breath in anticipation.

"Are you ready, bunny?"

I can only nod.

You grab me once more, this time bending me over at the waist. While you lift my skirt, my hands find the edge of the tub, and I brace myself. The feeling of your fingers playing with my thong, teasingly moving it to the side, is intoxicating. Slowly, taking in a deep breath, I let myself close my eyes, and I wait.

The sudden coolness hits me. I knew it was coming, but it still takes a second to calm myself again. I need to focus on my breaths, focus on the fact that I can feel your wet finger tracing the rim of my ass. God, you feel good. Your gentle pressing, increasing in intensity, causing me to raise my hips towards you. . . I know we both want this.

As I exhale, your finger slips in past my sphincter.

Oh fuck

. I know I'm tight, but the discomfort of your finger is pleasure in of itself; I hear myself moaning as you push up to your knuckle. I think you're asking me if this is okay; oh, it's more than okay. I don't know if I tell you to, but you begin to move in and out. As the speed starts to increase, you pull out, but not for long; I hear the lube open again. Now I feel two of your fingers pressed up against me, and more than ever I want to take them in—especially knowing what's coming. With another exhale, I feel myself relax, and your fingers slide in. For a moment, all I know is how full I am; before too long, I just know that I am your toy to fuck. Three fingers, four; give them to me, Master. I can take them—I

will

take them.

Suddenly I'm empty, and I collapse a little bit, leaning into my hands. How far along are we? My head is swimming, and my breaths are deep and heavy. I didn't realize it before, but my arms are actually shaking—why did my master stop?

I hear another click of the lube, and that is answer enough.

You pull my hips back up, and you open my ass. I can hardly breathe as I feel you press the head of your hard cock against me. A swipe up, down, and then positioned again; with a firm push, you slip yourself inside me.

I think my eyes literally roll towards the back of my head.

Your girth is painful, pleasurable. Everything's black, and I all can feel is your hands on my hips while you slowly slide your thick dick even deeper. Am I enough? Am I pleasuring you? I can barely breathe, but that doesn't matter—I want to feel you balls deep in me, filling me up.

After bottoming out, I can feel you starting to fuck me, gradually increasing in speed. I don't even know what you're saying at this point, the feeling is so intense, but I hope it's about how full you are. I can't help it; I can only think about every glass of water you've drunk today.

Oh please, Master

, I think I hear myself saying.

Please use me, that's all that I'm good for! Use your dirty, little bunny

—

You stop thrusting; with a groan, I feel your body relax.

"Oh, fuck."

Yes.

Suddenly your cock spasms, and I feel you release yourself inside of me. The stream is hot and powerful, filling me up even more, and I moan as you press me as close to you as possible.

"Do you like that, my disgusting, sexy little slut?"

The stream is unrelenting.

"Does my bunny like being filled with her master's piss?"

Hot, sticky droplets are starting to escape, running down my pussy.

"Does she like being my personal urinal, whenever I need to use her?"

Oh god yes.

Now the piss is really escaping, streaming down the inside of my thighs; I'm so fucking close. I can't see myself, but I must be a twitching, moaning mess. Just knowing I am my master's, here for him to degrade and use, is almost enough to make me cum, but this—this feeling of his hot piss filling my ass, never-ending—

"Cum for me, bunny."

Your words send me over the edge.

Such intense ecstasy, incredible euphoria wracking me physically and mentally. The waves are rolling over me, drowning out any outside feeling. This must be my peak, the pinnacle of my service. I have never felt so defiled before, not even while gulping down the acrid piss directly from your dick. And your voice, telling me to cum—how could I disobey you? I

need

to be your good, nasty little slut; it couldn't get any better.

The orgasm is starting to fade, and I notice you're no longer inside me. Temporarily I'm disappointed, but not for long; the rest of your promise is coming back to me. With my ass still in the air, I open my eyes, and I have an upside down view of you slathering lube on a plug—there's a twinge of excitement in my soaking pussy.

"That's my good girl," I hear your soft voice, and a shudder runs through me.

Gently, I feel you pressing again, although this time it's the plug; as it slips in, more piss runs down my legs. I can hardly contain my excitement—my ass is so incredibly full.

"Stand up for your master," you say as you let go of me.

It takes a moment, but I slowly raise myself and turn around. You're looking at me sternly but excitedly, and the sight of your still-hard cock makes my heart race. I want you so badly, but I trust your plan—

not yet

. Just standing here, though, is enough to make me melt.

"You're doing so well," you coo while you cup my face in your hands. I can't look away from your eyes; right now, they're the only things in the world.

Briefly, passionately, you pull me in for a kiss, and I can barely register the aching of your cock pressed between our bodies before it's over. But you're pulling away now, grabbing your clothes and wiping yourself off with a damp washcloth; all I can do is watch. As you give your shorts a final tug up, you fixate on me again, and your grin is impossible to read.

"Are you ready for our walk, bunny?"

I nod, mute. But, before I step forward, an idea enters my mind; I reach below my skirt and slide my soaked thong down to the floor. For a second, I'm worried—will you punish me for not asking permission first?

Your gaze narrows.

"Easier access for your master, I see." And with that, you gesture towards the bathroom door.

My heart is pounding again as I hurry down the stairs, and I feel like I'm tripping over myself as I struggle to slip on my sandals. While it hardly takes half a moment, I see that you're ready and waiting by the time that I'm done—tall, handsome, and dominating. Simply knowing that I'm filled with the piss of someone so good-looking as you is making me even wetter.

I follow your lead as you open the door, but I continue forward as you lock everything up. It's a beautiful day—the sun is shining warmly, birds are singing, and there's even a decent breeze. I'm taking it all in when you come up behind me, enveloping me in your arms and kissing me on the head. Your voice is quiet, but I catch the words all the same: "You're my dirty whore, and I want everyone to see that." With another quick kiss, you let go and grab for my hand instead, brushing my bare ass on the way.

We're walking on the sidewalk now, heading towards the park on the lake, but at the moment I'm preoccupied with everything about my appearance: What do they think of my shirt, white and practically see-through? And what about my tiny, black skirt? Each time the wind catches it, do they get a flash of my dripping pussy or my aching ass? And what about my legs—can they see the drops of piss slowly trailing downwards? Will they catch a whiff of my master's sweet scent on me? Will they notice the droplets I'm leaving behind on the sidewalk? The questions set my heart racing even faster, and each person I see sends a thrilling shudder through my body:

I want them to know

.

We do encounter a few passersby as we make our way down, many of whom you know, but I don't. My anonymity is particularly exhilarating; there's nothing they know about me that could cloud their perception of my sluttiness. Again, I wish that they would know—know how I love to drink the piss from your dick, how I love to be filled by your thick cock, how I love to let you use me, and now, how I love to carry your piss inside my stuffed ass. God, I don't think there's anything that I wouldn't do for you—I am completely yours.

Still, though, there's a part of me that's afraid of being caught, but the fear only adds to the excited flush I feel in my cheeks. The first time we passed someone, you reached back and grabbed half of my ass; a short yelp escaped my lips before I could stop myself.

"Careful, bunny," you warned, quiet but still smiling. "You don't want to spoil our fun, do you?"

"Of course not. I'm sorry, Master."

After this first incident, I am extra careful not to expose your wandering hands. It's hard to keep calm, but it's rewarding too; I'm just an object, a sexual toy for you to use as we follow the sidewalk. Each time your hands slip beneath the hem of my skirt, they linger a little bit longer, and your graphic words grow from whispers into fully-voiced comments:

Your cunt must be absolutely dripping for your master's fat cock

, or,

Just wait until I shoot my load into my dirty little bunny—god, I can't wait to see you knocked up.

I shiver in pleasure.

Finally, we're in the park, and my breath quickens in anticipation.

"Look at all of these people," you comment offhandedly. "Just going about, enjoying their pleasant spring days. . . I wonder how many we'll find further down the island."

"I don't know, Master," my mouth is dry, but the words come out anyway. "There are a lot of people out today."

Smirking, you continue.

"I wonder how many of them will get to see me pounding your eager pussy—and I wonder how many of them would like to join in."

I bite my lip, but you don't stop.

"Maybe you'll get lucky," you say teasingly. "Maybe they'll piss on you too."

You wave as we pass another walker across the road.

"Maybe your master will command you to open your mouth as they do it."

I look up at you, and I hope you can see the desire in my eyes.

We continue this way for little while, with you describing vulgarities as I try to disguise my raging arousal. It's getting harder, though; I sense that we're almost there. Just a little bit past the bend in front of us is the copse of trees—it's sheltered, down a steep incline where it almost meets the lake. It's also where I held your dick for the first time while you pissed; the memory makes my heart race.

"How are you feeling, bunny?"

Your grip on my hand tightens, and I know that you know exactly what I'm thinking about.

"Ready." I answer simply.

And we're here—we're finally here. At the moment, no one's on the path; there's no one to see as we slip down out of sight. We really aren't visible from above—if no one wanders down, that is—but we are wonderfully exposed to the expansive lake lying in front of us. For better or for worse, the water is empty, but imagining the show any swimmers could have thrills me.

My reverie is broken as you take me by the shoulders and guide me back into a tree. Once again, your eyes have the look of predatory excitement to them; your promise is coming to fruition. Although I could lose myself in the anticipation, I don't: Right now, I want to see you using me.

"Look at me," you growl, and I meet your intense gaze. Lightly, I can feel your fingers tracing around my exposed throat. "Are you mine? Do you belong completely to your master?"

I exhale slowly. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Master."

"That's right." You're closer now, keeping your face in mine. "Are you mine to use and defile as I like?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good." The fingers I first felt are now starting to press on my throat, and the fingers on your other hand are playing with my pussy. "Now say it all back to me."

It's so hard to focus with the barrage of sensations. "I'm. . . yours, Master. . . completely. . . yours, to use. . . and, and to defile. . . as you like."

"That's a good girl," I hear, and the hand that was on my throat starts to descend slowly down my front. "You're such a good toy."

Thank you

.

Your hand finds its place on my waist, and you remove the other from my pussy, bringing it to your mouth. With an exaggerated motion, you suck my juices off your fingers; you smile at the taste.

"I think it's time," you continue. "Undo my shorts, bunny."

I nod.

Slightly shaking, I manage to find your belt and release the clasp; my fumbling fingers somehow undo the button below. The zipper gives me a moment of trouble, but suddenly I have it, and it slips right down; I'm greeted by the sight of your bulge.

"Do you like that?"

I smile sheepishly. "Yes, Master."

"That's good," you say, and you pull your erect cock from out of your briefs. "Because you're about to get all of it."

My knees feel weak again.

Suddenly you're pressing against me, pushing me into the tree. I love the feeling of your heavy breath while your hands slip under my skirt; your desire fulfills me. The taste of me on you, the abrupt thrust upward as you pick me up and pin me down again. . . you're holding me against the trunk, my exposed pussy ready and waiting.

"Please, Master." I'm begging now, shamelessly. "Please fuck me."

That is invitation enough.

I cannot move as you thrust your rock-hard dick inside of me.

Oh fuck

. My world is black again, just a place of raw sensation—you're filling me completely, pressing against the plug in my ass.

"You're mine," your voice growls, and there's another violent thrust.

Yes.

There's so much, too much to process. What is that I feel on my ass? How can I be this full?

Thrust.

The warmth—

oh my god

. It's piss, the piss is leaking each time you press against the plug—

Thrust

.

God yes.

I'm intoxicated, drunk on the thought of me leaking while you fuck me senseless. This is it, this is what I want—don't stop, please, don't stop. The climax is so close now, it's so close. . . Keep fucking me, I want you to feel me cum on your fat cock—

And sweet release.

This pleasure is intense, but not as long-lasting as the first time. Maybe it's because of the vigor of your passion; there's slight pain from the bark pressing into my back, and each time you thrust, my head hits the trunk behind me. But it's okay—that's what I want, what I need. I am yours, after all, and I will do anything for you.

Finally, I've come back to my senses enough to open my eyes. You're still before me, holding me up, and your hungry eyes meet mine; you look close too, so I decide to give you a push.

"Master," I manage between breaths.

"Yes?" Your voice is hot and heavy.

I swallow. "Please, cum inside me."

Your thrusts increase in speed, and you grip me tighter.

"Do you want that?"

"Fill me with your seed, Master."

Your eyebrows furrow slightly as your mouth twists into a hungry snarl.

"

Please

—I want you to knock me up."

I see it in your face as I feel the warmth shooting deep inside me.

Yes

. There's nothing in between us, nothing to stop a filling of my womb, and I savor each final thrust before you let me fall to the ground below. Looking up, I see you braced against the tree; your face is always so beautiful after you cum, and I love watching you ride the rest of the orgasm—I could do it forever.

Eventually, your eyes open, and you smile at me from above. "Well, what are you waiting for, bunny?"

You're right; the way you're leaned over, your gradually softening dick is positioned directly in front of me. Adjusting myself slightly, I come forward and take you in my hands. There's still some cum leftover, so I take my tongue and run it along your dick, finally settling at the tip. After a quick kiss, I slide you in; first I go up your shaft, and then I return to exploring the head.