A short story prompted by my WRITE pm dare

The words given were: whore, public toilet, piss-soaked, and chained.

Finally!

“Hey there, my nasty whore. Are you desperate enough to earn the privilege to touch that greedy cunt by a little … or maybe more than a little humiliation?”

“I bloody well am!”

He laughed. He hadn’t called for almost a week. I wanted to be angry, but my stupid cunt got excited immediately.

“Good! Meet me in fifteen minutes at the fountain close to the park. Just Jeans and one of the tops your nipples poke through so nicely. You better hurry. If you are late, it will be no touching for the rest of the month.”

I dropped the call with a cuss. Fifteen minutes was an extremely short time to get to the meeting point. I jumped into a pair of skinny jeans, grabbed the first top, and ran down the stairs.

I had lost quite a bit of weight recently, but I was still out of shape. The whole way to the park was up a steep hill. I sweated and panted. But I felt my mind was chained to my clit which was dragged along by the prospect of some attention. Another day of no touch and I would probably go nuts. I sure regretted that stupid bet, but my submissive mind was trapped.

He smiled at me when I finally approached him, sitting relaxed at the wall around the fountain.
“Congrats, you made the first part. Seems like you really hurried.”

He pointed at the sweat stain on the white top, just between my tits. I was embarrassed.

“No time to waste. The bus from the sightseeing tour will be here every minute.”

He gave me a plastic bag. There was a piece of fabric in it. I looked at him questioningly. He pointed me to the public toilet in the shade of the trees.

“No”, I cried out. “You know involving other people is a hard limit for me.”

“Don’t waste time arguing, whore! If you’re doing it right, no other people will be involved. You are just going to … harvest something.”

I had no clue what he was talking about.

“Go to the men’s toilet, put the piece of fabric in one of the urinals, and hide in a stall. The group will be in a hurry and there are no other people around. When everybody has left, take the piece of fabric and put it in the bag. That’s all. For the second part.”

Great, “harvesting” a strange mans’ piss. Fuck, that was weird shit.

“I think I can hear the bus …”

I grabbed the bag and ran. The restrooms were old and not very clean. Walking in there barefoot was gross. That’s why he didn’t allow shoes. He’s an asshole. As always, my cunt disagreed: He’s so creative! Stupid thing.

There were only two urinals. I threw the piece of fabric in the one closer to the door, hid in a stall and dragged my feet up. Soon I could hear a few people enter, talking about the city, older men, apparently. Splashing.

“Hey, what’s that in here? Oh, what the hell.”

Splashing. Doors opening and closing. Silence. I quickly snug out the stall, grabbed the piss-soaked fabric with two fingers and stuffed it into the bag. Damn, I had earned the pleasure to touch myself!

“I’ve fulfilled the task, you disgusting freak!”

He kept smiling unshakably. I presented the bag.

“Very good, whore. No, keep it. You’ll need it.”

“But …”

“Oh, shut up, bitch! I’m very aware of your limits. We’re not going to cross them. But I’m also aware that you are forced to do repugnant stuff by your out-of-control craving for masturbation and humiliation. You know, I like that.”

His unwavering smile was getting on my nerves.

“Go home, whore, and wait for my instructions.”

It’s bad enough walking with a piss-soaked piece of fabric in a bag. It’s worse when your mind is also racing about the humiliation that was ahead. Meanwhile, my treacherous cunt soaked my jeans. I almost ran again, from shame, fear to be caught, and also … well … excitement and arousal.

When I closed my apartment door, my mobile beeped.

“Ready for the final task?”

“Skip the preambles! I’m waiting!”

“Well, my disgusting, nasty whore, you’ve earned the right to edge your cunt. Lay down on the floor, right now!”

My knees buckled when I lied down.

“You know, we need the prop now. When I’m finished talking, you’ll get the fabric out, and drape it nicely over your disgusting whore face. Understood? Then, and only then, your hands can wander inside your jeans, and you may do what you have to do. Take the fabric off and you’re done. When it’s dried you’re done. I assume you have a few hours. Have fun, you disgusting whore.”

Really? Damn … That was so fucking gross! But the cunt wants what the cunt wants. I lied back and put the fabric onto my face. “I’m such a depraved shameless slut”, I thought. The stench was nauseating when my breathing got heavier.

It didn’t take long before I was on the edge. A drop of pee ran down my neck. My cunt went into a frenzy. It went on for a couple of hours.