Meeting my slave Martina for the first time, I use her on the toilet as hard, deep and urine-covered as she had always wanted.
I keep visiting lots of online forums and chatrooms related to sex and lesbians, to meet like-minded people and find out more about myself. There, I met Martina. She’s 9 years older than me and bored in her marriage, so while looking for a new rush she tried to find out how it would be with a woman.
We liked each other right away and were both noobs in the chat (though I’ve been there a little longer than her) and soon we were talking about what we both like doing and how we’d do it to one another. One thing lead to another and I soon had my fingers on my pussy while I tried turning her on.
Martina couldn’t or wouldn’t masturbate by the computer, but made sure I got my fair share. She had a fetish for tits and was very proud of her own bust, which she classified as a 38 D. It seemed a bit much for me, especially since she said she was otherwise quite slender and kept her weight, but had a great “latina ass”. But then, I’m just a 34 B, and I’m a sports hater.
Besides that, she was very submissive and wanted me to call her my “slave”. I thought it odd at first, but it seemed to really turn her on, so with time I enjoyed our little role-play as well.
Some day we wanted to meet in person. We live about 200 km apart, it was summer and we were both curious. So we set up a date, a small town, about halfway between both of our homes. Martina was there before and suggested an icecream parlour by the market square. She gave me another description of herself, so I might recognize her. (We didn’t feel comfortable sending photos at the time.) I just said she’d know it’s me – that’s how it is as a redhead, you’ll get noticed.
So I drive to our meeting point and the whole time I’m thinking about what I might do with her when I meet her. Are we just acquaintances? After all, I masturbated several times with her, and she knows more about my secret longings than anyone else. And I know about her fantasies with her friend Cora, or that she wants to be my slave.
Should I just treat her like I did in the chatroom? That’d be daring in public, but it made me wet just thinking about it. Finally, I decided to just wait and see what happened, but was resolved not to hold back.
I found the market square (thanks to GPS) and the icecream parlour as well. She was already there and seemed quite nervous. She wore a pair of tight, stone-washed jeans and a white tube top which accentuated her body nicely. She didn’t lie about her breasts, they were nice and big and nicely shaped. Her hair was long, straight and black, and her face was pretty, in a classical, regal looking way.
I just wore a short, yellow dress with not much underneath. “Hey Martina,” I said and walked up to her as if we knew each other for years. “How are you?”
“Kat?” she asked and stared at me incredulously. She smiled. “Thank god, I thought already…”
“…That I wouldn’t show up?” I asked. “Or that I’m a guy?” She laughed. She had a beautiful, open laugh, and her face was so pretty I wondered why she put so much work into her body.
I sat down next to her. The café had only a few other visitors, a few schoolgirls sat on a table across from us, and a couple seemed to be sitting inside. Other than that, it was empty. The waitress came up and I ordered a big sundae with cream and Cappuccino. Martina sipped her espresso and said she needed to watch her weight. I never cared about my weight, so I enjoyed myself.
“You can have some pussy cream with your coffee,” I laughed. “That’s guaranteed low-cal.”
She blushed. She seemed to be more shy in real life than online. “Kat!” she acted indignant, but didn’t say anything else.
“How’s the sex life?” I asked.
“Well,” she said. “Nothing special. I mostly do it myself, if I even have the time, so not very much. And then I think of…” she paused when the waitress came to bring my order.
Without taking notice of her, I continued: “…of when you’re fisting my twat while I’m eating you out?” This was one of our fantasies, and Martina wanted to sink into the ground for shame while the waitress gave her best to act like she didn’t hear any of that.
I thanked her and got started on my icecream. “Oh god Kat,” Martina said. “You’re crazy.” I smiled. “Do you even know how horny these thoughts make me feel?”
I raised my eyebrows. “No clue,” I said. “As horny as me?” She laughed again. “So tell me,” I asked. “Is it at least good when you come from that?”
She looked around and whispered as she leaned in: “You have no idea… Last night, I gave myself a long nice shower in preparation for today, and I thought of our hot chats. And I just peed nicely on my hand and rubbed it all over my tits while I thought of you doing that to me. You know, like that one time.” I nodded and remembered one of our chats, when we found out we both liked water sports. She sipped her espresso again.
“So what about it?” I asked and pointed at the cup. “Pussy cream?”
“Mmmh,” she moaned. Without asking further, I pulled up my skirt and inserted the long icecream spoon between my legs. It was cold and hard, and I spread my labia while guiding it into my pussy. “Kat,” Martina hissed. “They’re looking at you!” I looked up and the teenage girls from the other table were giggling and whispering. I turned the spoon inside me and pulled it out, holding it up to Martina, who took it reluctantly in her mouth, but started sucking it thoroughly. Again, giggles from the other table.
“God, you turn me on,” she said. I smiled again.
“Are there any bathrooms here?” I asked the waitress as she was passing by our table again.
“Inside,” she replied and pointed.
“What’re we waiting for?” I asked Martina and looked deep into her eyes. She stared at me again, but followed my lead. I secretly took the spoon with me in my handbag.
The bathroom was very small, just a tiny room with a sink out front. We squeezed in anyway and locked the door behind us. I immediately grabbed Martinas tits. She moaned: “Those have been neglected for a long time.” I pulled her top under her breasts and weighed them admiringly in my hands. They really were her whole pride and joy, and rightfully so. I began sucking one with pleasure. Martina leaned against the wall and let me take her, while unbuttoning her jeans and sliding a hand inside them. I grabbed her tight butt while I pulled a nipple with my teeth.
“Did I allow you to touch yourself, slave?” I asked sternly.
Martina pulled her hand back and said meekly: “No goddess, may I?”
“May I what?” I replied.
“May I play with myself, mistress?” she asked shyly.
I bit her breast harder and slapped her bum: “How do we say?”
“May I jack off my cunt, mistress?” she said somewhat more determined.
“Pull down your pants,” I ordered. She slowly peeled off the tight jeans and let it fall to the ground. Her pussy was a dream. Nice dark pubic hair was growing all across her vulva, and below her wet labia were glimmering.
She saw my satisfied smile and said: “I let it grow out just for you, goddess. So you’ll be satisfied with the cunt of your servant.” I nodded and turned her around towards the wall, to get a better look between her legs. There, I noticed the little slut didn’t come unprepared: A nice, black plug was lodged firmly in her ass.
I turned it, and began to move it inside her butt, which she visibly enjoyed. “Oh mistress, do you know how much I longed for that?” I didn’t answer and instead worked her some more with the plug, then pulled it out and pushed it back in, over and over, until I could fuck her tight “latina ass” nicely with it. She moaned louder.
“That’s how you like it,” I hissed in her ear. “Straight up the ass.”
“Oh yes, mistress,” she answered. “I’m such a little anal whore who needs it up her asshole constantly. My dirty hole is just there to be used by you.” I fucked her hard with the plug while I pulled her hair back and pressed her tits against the cold tiles on the wall. She squealed and whimpered, when she came, and stood there for a while gasping for air, the plug still inside her.
I sat down on the toilet seat and spread my legs. “Come here,” I ordered. She knew what time it was and knelt willingly on the floor in front of me. I pulled up my skirt and she purred happily at the sight of my red bush.
“Wow, I did…” she started to say when I interrupted her harshly by aiming a spray of pee straight at her face.
She slurped and drank. It was hotter than I ever imagined it. I pissed on her, and she swallowed it happily, as if she never did anything else. I wondered if her mind wasn’t dirtier than she would let on, because now she was “in the mood” she didn’t know any boundaries. What she couldn’t swallow she let run down her tits, where it dripped on the floor. When I was finished, her white top was soaking wet and had a yellow stain. It didn’t seem to bother her. She licked the last drops out of my pubic hair and then looked up at me. “Give me the fist,” I said.
“Should I really, mistress?” she asked and looked at her hand. She had a few clunky rings on her fingers and several bangles that clattered on her wrist.
“Blast my cunt, slave,” I replied and pulled my twat wide open. I wanted her to look deep inside my hole, into the muff of her mistress, which she had to obey and be obedient to. She pressed her fingers tight and pushed the tips into my hole. They slid in easily, still wet from pee and pussy slime. She moved them gently back and forth, going deeper inside. Her rings rubbed nicely at the walls of my vagina and she only stopped when her knuckles and thumb reached my labia. She looked at me once more, just to make sure, then pushed it in with all her strength.
I groaned deep and loud. Something deep and animalistic, wild and furious broke loose within me and made itself heard with a guttural, primitive scream. Martina looked at me startled but I grabbed her arm and motioned her to fuck me faster, harder, mercilessly. She pushed in as hard as she could and filled my cunt like nothing before. I felt how my snatch constricted around her hand and held her tight, seemingly trying to pull her even further in even though her fingers already touched my cervix. Martina looked at me concerned and I felt her move inside me, twisting, turning, caressing my insides and finally turning into a fist. She began boxing my box.
I came. And then I came again. And again. I thought how this dirty submissive cow was finishing me off, how she did everything I told her to, how she revelled in obeying me and how I, and only I, could do that with her. And I came again. The orgasms shook my body and I didn’t even notice Martina pulling her hand back out. When I regained my senses, she was sucking the rest of the pussy slime off my labia and rubbed her nose in my bush.
I breathed in deep and got up, straightening my dress while she cleaned up the floor with toilet paper. Her tits were still dangling freely out of her top and I think she enjoyed feeling as free as this. When she was finished, she packed them back in as good as possible. The top was now semi-transparent from wetness and her nipples were showing clearly, which made her look even more appetizing. Even though I didn’t need the spoon, I inserted it quickly in my pussy until it was covered in a thin layer of slime, and then we left the bathroom.
I paid at the counter while Martina already went outside, probably to have her top dry faster in the sun. When I followed her, the giggling girls were still at their table; it seemed we weren’t taking quite as long as we thought. I went past their table and looked at them meaningfully while dropping the spoon there.
From the market square we went on a walk down towards the river. Martina reached for my hand and held it and we walked hand in hand along the shore. The weather was nice, the sun was shining and a few pedestrians and bicycles were passing us by. Her top was still somewhat transparent, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She looked happy, very proud and at peace with herself and the world. I was wondering if it was because of me, or because she managed to get out of the house for once and could do something completely different. Feeling like she could be any way she wanted to be. Because that’s how I felt.
We came to a place where the river bent around a curve and was flowing somewhat slower. A small pond was branching off there, and a few people were rowing boats on it. Wanting to enjoy the day, we took a boat and went out across the lake. Martina smiled at me as she sat beside me and we tried without much success to steer in one direction. Finally we gave up and just let the boat drift across the water. I took her in my arms and she leaned her head against my shoulder. We laid back into the boat, until we were all hidden inside it. She pulled up her top and began playing with her breasts again.
“Do you like my tits, Kat?” she asked.
“Of course,” I answered truthfully.
“That’s very important to me,” she said solemnly. “You don’t know how much it means. In school they all made fun of me because they’re big like that. And I was proud of them anyway.” I fell quiet and laid my arm on her, reaching for her breasts. They were warm and soft. “I wish you could jizz on me,” she said suddenly.
“What, why?” I asked.
“I love cum,” she said. “It’s so good to feel it in me or on me, to smell it, to taste it.”
I began caressing her breasts and said: “I can offer you a few other things you can feel, smell and taste.”
Martina moaned again. “God, I could fuck all day long.”
I laughed. “Well, what’s keeping you?”
She looked at me. “But you like it too, right? It’s very important to me that you like everything we do.”
I laughed again. “Don’t worry,” I said. She smiled and sat up. We had drifted to the opposite shore of the lake and the other boats were far away from us, but they probably could still see her sit there topless. I sat back up as well. She looked around and then took off her pants, until she was all naked, the plug still in her butt. At first I was embarrassed, but then I thought “so what” and pulled my dress over my head.
She watched me and smiled. “Your armpits aren’t shaved.”
I blushed. “I don’t like to shave, and they’re so light most people don’t even notice,” I answered. “I love my hair.”
She suddenly kissed me straight on the lips and said gently: “I love your hair too, Kat. I don’t want to change anything about you. You’re a big role model to me, you know?” I smiled shyly. “I’ll let them grow out again too. Fuck beauty standards,” she said.
I laughed. “The way I know us we rather piss on beauty standards.” Martina didn’t say anything but steered the boat towards a small overgrown island close by. I helped her as good as I could.
When we got there, we got off the boat and walked naked through the thicket until we were sure nobody could see us. Then she turned to me and said: “Look at me mistress. All of this belongs to you. I want to be all yours and nobody elses.”
I smiled. “I think I know you better and more intimate than many others,” I said. “That part of you belongs to me.”
She answered: “Oh goddess, nobody knows me like you do. Nobody knows the things you know. With you I can be myself.”
I smiled and eyed her up and down. She was beautiful, sexy, nicely shaped and desirable. And terribly natural. I loved her pubic hair, her tits, her pussy, her ass. “Piss for me,” I said.
Without hesitation she spread her legs and pulled her labia open. I wondered if it was possible to pee with a plug up the ass, when she already made it rain. Her piss sprayed all over and ran down her legs, but she just closed her eyes and enjoyed the freedom to be able to piss on the floor in front of her mistress. I reached for her twat and let the warm stream run across my hand, rubbing the wet fingers on her tits afterwards. “Oh mistress,” she moaned. “My goddess, you know how to please my tits.”
I smiled and made her bend across a tree trunk, and while her cunt was still running out I pushed my fingers inside her and began fucking. Her piss sprayed across my arm while I worked her twat and she moaned loud. “Oh yes!” she yelled. “Yes mistress, give it to me. Use me!” I thrusted two fingers inside her and crooked them, so I could massage her spot with my fingertips. I felt the plug when I moved in and out of her. She moaned louder. “Fuck me hard,” she gasped. “Fuck me like your whore, like your slave cunt.”
I slapped her butt sharply with the other hand. “What are you?” I asked.
“I’m your little slave twat,” she answered.
I hit her again. “I can’t hear you,” I said.
“I’m your dirty filthy slave!” she yelled louder. I slapped her once more, harder. She trembled. “I’M KAT’S DIRTY CUNT HOLE SLAVE MARTINA!” she screamed.
I have no clue if anyone heard us, but the thought of her screaming her horniness out into the world turned me on so bad I lost my inhibitions and just wanted to finish her off. Brutally, I slammed four fingers inside her twat like a pocket. She pushed back against the trunk while her tits were dangling big and heavy below her. I slapped them with one hand, making them jiggle even more.
“Yes, give it to my utters,” she spurred me on. “Treat me like a dirty farm slut.” My arm got heavy from thrusting and I became more and more daring. I pulled my fingers out and pressed both hands tight together, spread the thumbs apart and then shoved all eight fingers inside her. I heard her gasp for air, but she bravely pushed back. Her slit was stretching and I pushed the plug in with my thumbs. I fucked her as good as I could inside her tight twat, and she only let out brute moans and began to drool, until she shook all over her body and her knees gave in. My hands slid out of her, and a gush of pussy secretion streamed out.
I knelt beside her and held her tight. She trembled and laughed uncontrollably, kissing my slimy hands and smearing them across her face. I kissed her mouth passionately, pushing my tongue inside her, tasting her, feeling her tits against mine, holding her tight, trembling, happy, tired and fucked out of my mind.
When we had dressed and brought the boat back, she held the plug proudly in her hand as we walked back, as if she wanted to show that she was exactly as dirty and depraved, and even more so, as everyone thought who saw her.