Pit Stop 8

The bell jingles above my head as I step into the tiny convenience mart attached to the gas station. Country music warbles in the background and an old man sits at the counter watching baseball on a set of rabbit years. "Um-", my voice cracks, I cough. "Um...can I get the key to the bathroom...please?" I sound nervous. I am nervous. The man's eyes narrows and he takes a long look at me before reaching over to grab the tarnished key off the hook labeled "W". "Thanks", I mumble and turn back to the door.

I swing open the door into the summer heat and walk quickly to the side of the building. Before I've even had a chance to fully round the corner, a hand grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls me forward.

"Good job, baby," a low voice says. Daddy made me go in for the key. Daddy always makes me go in when she's feeling particularly mean.

I can't look at her directly, so I keep my eyes lowered, focusing on the heavy buckle of her belt. "Thank you, Daddy." She guides me to the bathroom doors and waits for me to turn towards one. I pivot left and step towards the door marked 'Women'. I can practically feel her smirk behind me.

"So the old perv clocked you as a big ugly dyke, huh?" I nod. "How about I treat you like one then. Go on."

I reach forward to unlock the door, my hands trembling. I fumble with the key and her hand tightens on the back of my neck. Finally the key connects and the bathroom door swings inward, the heat and smell hitting me in the face. Before I can even fully register how rank it is, Daddy pushes me hard by the neck into the dark room. I stumble forward onto my knees as the door closes, enveloping us in darkness.

It doesn't last long, as Daddy pulls the string attached to the bulb dangling above us, but I'm still disoriented after being caught off balance.

Daddy grabs the top of my hair and pulls me over to them. I scramble on my hands and knees to try to get into position. Daddy yanks my head back so that I'm looking up at her. "You know why we're here right?" I nod. SMACK. Daddy's hand lashes out and catches me on the cheek.

"What was that?"

"Y-y-yes, Sir." My eyes already starting to water. My face hot.

"And why are we here baby?"

"For back talking to Daddy." A series of car troubles had set us back and we had been on the road all day. It was hot and I was tired and I was testing Daddy with my tone, when she had done nothing to deserve it. A snarky comment about why we should have stopped in the last town and some choice curse words were the final straw before we pulled over.

I try to cast my eyes downward, but she yanks my hair towards her.

"That's right baby." SMACK. Another slap lands on my cheek and I suck in through my teeth.

"If you want to be a disrespectful little bitch, Daddy's gonna disrespect you." SMACK. "Is there something you'd like to say." I can feel the tears welling in my eyes, my cheek growing hot and red, my heavy bladder aching to release.

"I'm s-sorry, Daddy," the last syllable squeaking out.

"Louder." SMACK.

"I'm sorry, Daddy!" His rough hand caresses my face. My shoulders shaking as tears fall down my face.

"Good boy. That's all Daddy wanted to hear." She pulls my face to rest on her crotch, stroking my hair. I wrap my arms around her legs and bury my face into her.

"Now all you have to do is take your punishment like a good bitch and then we'll be back on the road." I froze.

"My punishment?"

Daddy turns my face toward her. "Silly boy, you didn't think you'd get off that easy did you?" I look up, unsure. The smile is gone from Daddy's face. Instead I see a familiar dark look in her eyes. "Boots. Now."

I don't hesitate. I know what that means. I lean down my mouth hitting the top of Daddy's right boot first. I lick in broad strokes first, wiping away the dust and dirt from the road. Making the boots shine again. My tongue running over the threads and into the nooks and creases of the boot. I lap at the leather desperately, my mouth beginning to run dry.

Daddy leans over and grabs me by the back of the head, pulling me back to kneeling. "You want to have filthy, disrespectful mouth. I'll show you a disrespectful mouth. Open up, bitch." I open my mouth wide and Daddy spits violently into my face. Some of it reaches my mouth, but most of it trails down my cheek in a wet streak. Daddy jerks my hair and pulls me over to the toilet. I look up wide-eyed.

"Daddy, p-please, no no n-"

"Oh yes yes yes you little filthy mouthed cunt. You want to talk like that to Daddy, then you're gonna learn a lesson today." She pushed my head down, my mouth hovering inches from the toilet seat. It doesn't appear that anyone has stepped foot in this bathroom to clean it in months, maybe even years. The walls are covered in black marker graffiti and a film of greyish black grime seems to cover every surface. Trash spills over onto the can and the cover to the toilet tank lays cracked in two pieces on the floor behind it. Flies buzz in the heat and crawl on every surface.

"Clean it, cunt." A sob escapes me. Daddy kicks me in the ass with the toe of her boot and my chin hits the seat. I open my mouth and shakily stick out my tongue. I barely touch the seat and Daddy is pushing my face into it, smearing my tongue along the rim. I squeeze my eyes shut and gag, at the smell, the taste, the filth, the heat. My body is wrenching involuntarily.

"Oooooh no, you're not done yet." Daddy moves me to the other side, slapping me on the cheek any time my tongue dares to slip back into my mouth. Tears and snot stream down my face. She jerks her hand free from my hair and my face lands on the seat, my body breathing shakily. I hear the clink of Daddy unbuckling her belt and unzipping her dark jeans. I look up as she's pulling them down, not knowing what's coming next.

I see Daddy's hard pulsing clit peeking out from her bush. I lean forward to take it in my mouth, an almost instinctual move at this point and am shocked when Daddy back hands the other side of my face. I cry out, my hand flying up to my red cheek.

"I don't want your filthy mouth on me, you stupid hole."

Daddy lifts up the toilet seat, exposing the grime covered rim. She grabs me by the face and I whimper, shaking my head. Wordlessly she pushes my head down until my neck rests on the edge of the bowl. She lifts one leg up and settles her boot on the lidless edge of the tank before a hot stream of yellow piss hits me. I cough and sputter, trying to squeeze my eyes and mouth shut. Piss runs down my head into the bowl, soaking my hair. I try to push away but Daddy is strong. The stream turns into a dribble, dripping on me as I cry quietly.

"Aaaahh, much better."

Daddy kneels down and pushes my piss soaked hair out of my face.

"You think you'll talk like that to Daddy again?"

"N-n-no, no Sir," I whimper.

"Good, baby." Daddy stands and begins to zip up her jeans. A pang runs through my stomach.

"Daddy?" "Yes, baby?"

"I still have to pee..."

Daddy pauses. "Oh you do, how could I forget? Get in position."

"Position?"

"You know which one Daddy likes. Position. Now. And pull your pants down first."

I'm confused and my face shows it. I don't understand what Daddy means to do to me. I know what she wants, but the position she's asking for doesn't have anything to do with me relieving myself. I hesitate for only a moment longer before pushing my pants past my knees. I kneel forward into the humiliating position, my damp piss drenched face touching the cold tiles, arms outstretched, my ass up in the air. Daddy leans forward and rubs her hand on my ass. She runs a finger up my soaked slit.

"All that and you're soaking wet? You're such a slut for anything Daddy gives you."

She continues to trace my wet lips as my bladder throbs. Without warning she plunges two fingers into and starts fucking my cunt. I gasp and try to scoot forward, but the position doesn't allow for it. She fucks me hard - no build up.

"Daddy- please- I can't." My voice is shaky as I try to form a coherent sentence.

"Can't what, baby?" The fucking continues. Hard and rhythmic. Not stopping or slowing. My count throbs, Daddy's fingers sliding in and out of me, hitting me in just the right spot.

"I'm gonna- I have to piss- please, Daddy stop!"

"I know baby. I know you do."

The fucking somehow gets harder. Waves of pleasure and pain roll through me as I try to hold it in. I'm so close to cumming. But I can't cum while I'm holding on so tight to the liquid inside me.

"Daddy's gonna fuck the piss right out of you." Suddenly Daddy's intentions become very clear. I am going to piss. And I am going to cum. Daddy knows exactly what she's doing.

Tear spring to my eyes as it all becomes too much. I try to beg for release, but all that comes out is incoherent blubbering and sobs.

Suddenly my pussy grips onto Daddy's fingers and my back arches. I moan loudly, my fingers gripping for something to hold onto, but only finding the cold tile. Squirt shoots out of my cunt around Daddy's hand. "Theeeeerrree it is. Thaaat's my girl."

A hot stream of piss follows, running down my legs. My body shakes and bucks, wave after wave of orgasm hitting me. A pool of yellow spreads around my knees and the toes of Daddy's black boots. I'm practically screaming in pleasure, animalistic sounds I don't recognize coming out of me.

And then it's over. Daddy slows and then stops. She lets her fingers slide out of me, not even bothering to tease my hard, red clit. She wipes her piss and cum covered hand on her jeans before standing up.

Aftershocks run through me, causing my body to shake. Small whimpers escape past my lips. I collapse forward, laying in the mess I've made.

Daddy pulls her faded red handkerchief out of her back pocket and throws it down on the floor next to me.

"Get cleaned up. We need to get back on the road."

She grabs the key off the edge of the sink and opens the door to the bathroom, harsh sunlight spilling in, illuminating my half-naked, piss soaked body. The door swings closed again.

...

I make way back out into the gravel lot and I barely recognize it. How long had we been in that bathroom? After a whore's bath in the sink and using an entire roll of dollar store paper towels, I am by no means clean, but at least I'm not dripping in my own piss. My head is cloudy and there's a tight feeling in my chest.

I need Daddy. I need Daddy. I need Daddy.

I'm unsteady on my legs as I hobble back to the truck. I get in. My hands are shaking and I'm on the verge of tears, when the drivers side door opens and she climbs in. She's holding a bag from the convenience store.

"There's my girl."

I crawl across the bench of the cab and collapse into her. I'm sobbing into her shirt. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"I know, baby. Shhhhh, it's okay." Daddy strokes my hair and rocks me back and forth. She tilts my chin up and kisses me long and hard on the mouth. I hold onto her desperately.

She leans me back and puts the bag on my lap. It has bottled water and Gatorade and my favorite snacks in it. "Ready?" she asks. I nod and slip my hand into hers. We pull out of the parking lot and back onto the road.