"Hot damn, that feels nice," Tamara exclaimed.
Hot water cascaded down her silky skin-much of it diverting away from my face. However, it's hardly an improvement. Instead of being blinded and suffocated by falling water, I am instead forced to suffer the same while having my face compressed under Tamara's soft, voluminous buttocks.
The deluge of shower water is intensely disorienting. It's bad enough I can't breathe with my nose wedged tightly against Tamara's anus. But even when she sits up, the water still pours down her ass and streams into my face. And regardless of Tamara's sitting posture, the water continually flows into my ears making everything muffled and disorienting.
Tamara's riding crop echoes dully as it collides sharpy with my breast, the leather keeper striking my nipple.
"Fucking A. That feels really nice." The way she emphasizes the word "really" makes me queasy.
I squeal in pain, struggling fervently to pull away.
My cries are swallowed by Tamara's wet pussy, further drowned out by the sound of the shower water hitting ceramic and skin. Whether her pussy is wet from the shower water or from her natural lubrication, it's impossible to say with any certainty. However, I feel confident from past experience assuming that it's a healthy mix of both. Hell, she got so wet I wouldn't be surprised to learn shower water was the lesser of the two liquids dripping from her vulva.
Despite the fact there's no way to escape her torment, my body refuses to simply lay there and take the abuse, struggling involuntarily in response to her strikes.
"Fu-u-u-k," Tamara grunts unevenly, the riding crop hitting the tender flesh of my other breast this time.
Again I squeal and squirm. And again Tamara moans in rapture as my nose caresses her clitoris. I can tell she is wants to fuck my face. I feel the hunger in her body language. And it tells me she wants-no, needs to ride my mouth.
"God, I just want to wrap my pussy around your face," she moans, caressing her large breasts with her left hand, the other hand holding the riding crop.
This time, the crop slapped me directly in the crotch.
I jerk involuntarily against my restraints, struggling desperately to pull my hands free-to clutch myself protectively. All I manage to do is stimulate Tamara's clitoris for the umpteenth time. Her are moans are becoming increasingly feverish.
Tamara had a way of taking the concept of a long, relaxing shower to the absurd. I was surprised there was any hot water left. Our shower had easily passed the hour mark, and she had finished washing the both of us quite some time ago. Now, she was just enjoying herself in what might be the most ridiculous way possible.
"Fuck," I swore to myself, barely managing to keep from screaming aloud as the crop struck my inner thigh. She followed immediately with another swat, this time hitting my vaginal lips directly again. This time, I cuss aloud, squirming yet again.
The swats come more rapidly, her all-consuming need crescendoing toward what would undoubtedly be an explosive orgasm. She had a tendency to tease herself until a single thought consumed her mind. And then she went several steps beyond that.
There were times when I was certain she felt bad about the pain she inflicted. But when she got like this, the same pain that seemed to arouse sympathy in a normal situation excited her tenfold.
One after another, her swats went wild. Thigh. Stomach. Breast. Breast again. Clitoris. While she almost never struck the same spot twice in a row, no exposed flesh was safe. I bucked in pain, unable to stop squirming as she continued to assail my flesh without pity or mercy. My whole body was exhausted, but it reacted autonomously.
Her moans became erratic as my nose jerked repeatedly into her slit. It was clear she was on the brink of orgasm, but somehow she was able to resist helping the process along. It was, quite possibly, the most restraint I had ever seen her demonstrate.
There were certainly times where she didn't need, or event want, my assistance. She often liked to take control of her own pleasure with a nearly primal passion. And then there were times like this. Times where she wanted me to do the majority of the work whether I wanted to or not.
Her breathing grew ragged, and her body tensed in anticipation. She turned her attention, and her riding crop, solely to my tender, swollen vulva. She smacked it sharply. Again. And again. And again.
After 30 or 40 swats worth of bucking, her whole body tensed a final time and a scream forced itself through her lips.
"FUCK! Oh. Fuck." She was already deep in the throes of orgasm as her fingers moved, as if by their own volition. She began feverishly rubbing her clit. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
This time, the liquid that covered my face definitely wasn't water.
*****
"That was incredible," Tamara sighed, caressing my breast with her index finger. She was lying next to me, recovering her energy.
After she'd been able to stand-rather, after we'd both been able to stand, Tamara had guided me back to my bed.
My bed. When did I start thinking of it as mine?
Tamara often enjoyed snuggling with me after such an exertion. She tortured me beyond what anyone should be forced to endure, then expected me to respond to her with the tenderness of a caring girlfriend.
I wondered if I could gouge out her eyes before she could stop me. It would hardly be productive, but it would be immensely satisfying. I told her I'd forgiven her for forcing me to drink her urine, but nothing could be further from the truth.
I wasn't particularly thrilled with the way she'd treated me in the shower-it would take me days to recover. But there was little more violating than forcing one to drink hot urine directly from one's urethra.
Although, I really wished she would move on past this new kick of hers. The last time we'd showered together, she tickled me until she came on my mouth. I wasn't sure if that was better or worse than the riding crop. Sure, my entire body was smarting, but at least I wasn't laughing uncontrollably as Tamara coated my face with viscous fluids.
She had been on this kick for what felt like weeks. She loved when I got her off without her needing to stimulate herself against my face, even if that meant beating me until my squirming forced an orgasm.
*****
Tamara walked into the room.
She was wearing cotton pajamas with a matching top and bottom and patterned with hand-drawn hearts with a mixture of pink, fushia, and white. The pants were drawn in with an elastic drawstring, and the top was a button-down with a notch collar and patch pocket.
Did that mean it was night time? Or morning?
"Did you come to take me for a walk?"
She seldom answered when I was trying to be funny, but she looked unusually intense, even for her.
Her pants were on the floor before she was halfway to the bed.
"Tamara, what are you doing?" I grunt, still feeling disoriented from being jolted awake.
She doesn't respond. As she approaches, I notice she has her phone in hand, and on the screen I can just make out an image of what looks like pornography. I can see two women on a bare mattress, and the top woman is clearly dominating the woman on the bottom. The top woman has a slender back decorated with a colorful assortment of tattoos. The bottom woman's face is trapped under her ass. It was a scene I could relate to far too well.
The image changes, and I see a close-up of the top woman's vulva. The camera angle is from the eyes of the lower woman, as the top woman is presumably about to push her mound against the face of the bottom woman. I stare, mouth agape. She has a half-dozen piercings in each of her vaginal lips.
Tamara straddles my body, facing my feet. I found myself staring at her round, voluptuous ass. It appeared she hadn't been wearing any panties.
Just before she shifted the phone and I lost sight of it, I saw the top woman spitting a significant amount of saliva onto the face of the bottom woman before beginning to hump her face.
Fuck. With all of those piercings, I couldn't help feel bad for the bottom woman. That was going to hurt.
Tamara's ass descended. She locked her ankles on either side of my head, making it impossible to look away as my face disappeared into her milky white backside.
I could hear bits of the audio. It was a mixture of painful grunts, sadistic laughing, and pleasurable moans. Tamara began to grind her pussy against my mouth.
My nose slid back and forth along her ass crack, bumping over her anus with each thrust. Her wet, swollen sex slid back and forth from chin to nose, coating the bottom half of my face in her juices.
Tamara set her phone on my abdomen, using one hand to grope her breast through her pajamas. Her other gripped my chin in a death grip, holding my face in place as she began thrusting harder. Her hips moved rhythmically, but with little need for build-up. She was already horny and looking only for release.
It was no more than five minutes until she came.
Tamara leaned against the mattress, resting a moment in order to catch her breath. With still not so much as a word, she climbed off my face and gathered her things.
And then she was gone.
*****
Tamara ran her fingers through my hair.
No matter how many days I spent trying to think of a way out of my prison, I had come up with jack squat. The only option I could think of was simply playing along, hoping that eventually she would either learn to trust me or eventually grow bored.
So far, it didn't seem like she was getting bored. And I still couldn't tell if she trusted me any more than the day she imprisoned me.
With my cheek pressed against the sheet, I look awkwardly at Tamara. She's lying next to me on the mattress. Her gaze is unusually disconcerting. She stares at me, not saying a word.
"What's going through that perverted mind of yours?" I ask, trying to break the awkward silence.
"I'm thinking that you could take all of this," she grins innocently, lifting a strapon to her face. She runs the tip of the black phallus over her full, pink lips teasingly. Then, without warning, pushes the head of the rubber cock into my mouth.
As the dildo pushes past my tongue, I nearly choke. My relief is only momentary as she slides the dildo back out, immediately pushing it back in.
This continues for several minutes, each time she pushes further into my throat.
