she had come to this place, the busiest and least well-maintained public toilet she had been able to find with one intention, to cum.
As was increasingly the case as she explored her own deepening layers of perversion she had worn nothing beneath her short plaid skirt and as she had gotten closer and closer to her destination, could feel her pussy seeping its copious fluids onto her car seat. The smell of her sex in the small car was potent and fed her hungry lust and for a moment she cursed the traffic around her, the road too busy to risk stroking her cunt.
At last she saw the sign: "REST AREA NEXT RIGHT"
The sight of it sent shivers through her body and she knew that a single touch on her swollen clit right then might push her over the edge.
All the spaces close to the restrooms were taken up by a pair of limousines parked across them. making her park much farther from them than she'd have preferred. Normally she would have cursed their greedy use of several spaces but right then the thought of what she was about to do pushed it all from her mind.
The walk there seemed to drag on forever and when she finally turned the corner and saw the line of women, the passengers from the two limos, waiting at the door she had to stifle a sob of disappointment.
The others seemed to know each other intimately, chatting and laughing with a casualness that revealed their long association. Lost in her red fog she wasn’t paying a lot of attention but figured out that they had been at a lunch celebrating one of their number’s recent engagement. Their comments were quite risqué and they had clearly been drinking a fair amount of wine.
Hoping it would get her in faster she squirmed and danced on tiptoe as if desperate to pee. The women noticed and one said, “I think this girl needs to get in quicker than we do.”
“Maybe, but it’s fun watching her dance.”
“Do you want to make her wait?”
“I wonder how long til she pisses her pants.”
The sound of them all laughing at her expense made her feel like falling to her knees and pleading, exposing her as the submissive she was.
At last the one who seemed to be the group’s ringleader said, “Nah, come on. Let her through.”
Even after she got into the foul smelling space she still had to wait. All the stalls were occupied and another part of the group huddled around the two chipped and soiled sinks. Their chatter stopped at her appearance and one of them yelled in the direction of the stalls, “Come on, you bitches. Quit playing with your pussies and get out of there. We have a desperate woman here.”
Laughter answered from the stalls and she heard more than one voice answer, “Okay. Okay… I’ll be right out.”
The remark about paying with their pussies wasn’t lost on her and she wondered what they’d say if they knew…
Two doors opened and she chose the stall farthest from the door and hurried toward it.
Once inside she breathed in through her nose, filling her senses with the toilets' almost overwhelming mix of putrid odors. The combination of smells of menstruating women, stale urine and feces, and general grime would have made most people vomit. It kitten's case it only made her hornier.
Eschewing the stained seat she squeezed into the corner, raised her skirt and planted her bare ass on the floor's cracked and peeling linoleum. It felt… not quite greasy against her hot skin. More of a… grimy sensation. A mixture of grime and various unknown and unidentifiable liquids that had built up over what looked like years of inattention.
The paint on the two walls that met behind her were stained black with appeared to be a probably toxic mold and bubbling away from whatever they had been made from. On the other side, the toilet bowl was streaked with brown and yellow, the overflow and spillage from its many users squatting over the seat without making contact.
Grotesquely, kitten felt as disgusting as her surroundings and more aroused than she knew possible.
Every time in the past when she had indulged her lust and given in to an even deeper level of perversion she’d thought she could sink no lower.
For weeks after she’d remember that event, using it to inflame her fantasies as she masturbated.
But in time, like a drug, the scene was no longer enough and she needed something more. Something even more vile and horrible.
Spreading her legs as far as they would go between the toilet and bowl, her limbs pushed aside wadded wet toilet paper, paper towels, and the wrappers for tampons and sanitary napkins.
Sitting back against the walls she was aware of the filth against her shampooed hair and crisp white blouse but paid it no mind. As she let her eyes close all her attention was focused on the fingers which, after the long drive and delayed attention, at last stroked the lips at her crotch.
Had she been less masochistic she could have made herself cum in seconds. Instead she fought her release back from the brink.
Fondly she thought about the last time she’d submitted to Another and how He had made her beg for permission to cum. The taste of His cock, the smell of the leather boots she’d been made to lick clean, the sound of His deep voice demanding her service, the sting of His thick leather cat o’nine tails and thud of His cane, that last leaving marks that took a week to fade, were still vivid in her imagination.
Would this excite Him? she wondered.
Taking her already stiff nipple between her thumb and the knuckle of her first finger she squeezed it and twisted it with all her strength. It hurt and it sent a shiver through body. The shudder wasn’t, as one might have suspected, from the pain. It was the memory of His smile as He crushed that same nipple between His much stronger digits and enjoyed her torment.
More than a Dominant, He was openly a Sadist. And, though not really a masochist, she enjoyed feeding His dark lusts.
When she thought of Him crushing her sensitive nipple it wasn’t the intense pain she recalled, it was the sparkle in His eyes, the cruel smile, that excited her.
Digging the thumbnail of her other hand into her clit she made herself gasp and nearly made her cum. But kitten had been planning this outing for some time and taken over an hour just to drive here, she was in no hurry to end it quickly.
Thirstily she drank in every aspect of her dismal and disgusting surroundings, fixing it all in her mind for the many days of future masturbation that would follow.
The stench would be the strongest memory and she made a mental note to wipe the floor with her blouse before she left so she could stick it in a plastic bag and breathe it in when she got home.
Removing her thumbnail from her clit hurt in its own way and made her wish she’d borrowed one of the steel alligator clips He had used to shock her to replace it.
Shoving that hand inside she wasn’t too surprised to feel how wet she was, she had felt herself dribbling her juices onto the floor since she’d sat down. Removing it, she smiled at its coat of glistening slime and quickly tasted it with her tongue.
In anticipation of this exploration into self-degradation she hadn’t bathed for two days and only given her pussy a perfunctory wipe when she peed.
In addition to the usual sensual flavors of her aroused sex, she tasted others. Their source unknown, they were bitter and sour and salty and had some sort of grit. If she hadn’t been so close to cumming she probably would have puked. Instead, she turned it inward, using it to emphasize the levels to which she had sunk and excite her all the more.
In the fog of ecstasy she was only peripherally aware that the chatter and laughter that echoed off the walls was growing louder. What attention wasn’t focused on her approaching orgasmic release was drinking in every square inch of her surroundings to recall during future masturbation.
Below the edge of the door she saw a pair of feet in 4 inch fuck-me pumps pause and looking up saw with horror that in her horny haste she’d forgotten to latch the door!
A real submissive is allowed to give her body for pleasure, she doesn't require force.
