Part 2
I woke from the dream heart pounding. It seemed so real, so humiliating. The image of the blinking red light on the webcam, my finger sliding around the martini glass to scrape the last few drops of cum from its sides, the taste as I sucked it off my finger and the feeling of total depravity as I looked up and winked at my new audience were seared into my mind, but, thankfully, it was just a dream. A disturbing dream, but just a dream. I shivered through my whole body, the thought of actually deriving pleasure from such depravity sent chills down my spine. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. I felt a strange pull across my cheek. “I must have drooled in my sleep, and it must have dried” I rationalized, as I felt dried flakes fall onto my breasts. I stood up and turned to head to the bathroom, and found the room of my disturbing dream directly in front of me…the two martini glasses, cum crusted to the sides, the dark wet spot on the floor from my intense, squirting orgasm, and the sinister eye of the webcam perched upon the top of the TV, dark now, no blinking red. As the realization dawned upon me I realized it wasn’t drool on my cheek, and the falling flakes were dried cum. I could now taste the salty, tangy, metallic taste in my mouth again, and I ruId to the bathroom, thinking I would vomit, thinking that the only thing in my still full stomach was the creamy, thick, salty solution I’d swallowed the night before. I stood over the toilet, but found that the combination of the taste still in my mouth, the feel of the dried cum on my body, and the lingering effect of the orgasms I had the night before was arousing me, and the arousal began to offset the shame and disgust of having allowed myself to indulge in the depravity of the night before. How was it possible to feel this way? I should be retching, crying, screaming, angry. Instead, I began to feel the same swelling of desire I felt the night before. “I’m not a slut! I won’t let myself become…whatever that was last night,” I said to the slut with dried cum on her face staring at me in the mirror. I quickly showered, thoroughly washing every inch of my body, scrubbing until the skin was raw in the places I could feel the cum still. I finished showering, took a huge swig of mouthwash, rinsed for a good minute, brushed my teeth furiously, mouthwash again, hoping to eliminate every squiggly-tailed half cell hiding in the crevices of my mouth. I considered gagging myself and attempting to purge my stomach of its disgusting contents, but decided against it. “No need to go that far,” I told myself. “Don’t make me get rid of my treat” a voice in my head spoke. “Shut up, slut!” I growled at the mirror, feeling like Gollum fighting the effects of the ring. The voice silenced, I left the bathroom, feeling I could now leave the events of the night before behind me. A familiar smell hit my nostrils as I left the bathroom, a salty, tangy, metallic smell that let me know I was far from through this ordeal.
I entered the bedroom, relieved to see that my husband had removed the glasses, at least. There was no webcam on top of the TV, either, I noted, feeling a bit of relief and simultaneous apprehension. The threat of being live streamed doing whatever humiliating task my husband had in store seemingly gone was a relief, but the smell still hanging strong in the air with no apparent source worried me, as the two glasses full had barely smelled that strong right in front of me last night. I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a comfy, if thin, t-shirt and left the bedroom for the kitchen. As I opened the bedroom door, the smell became much stronger, and I hesitated, realizing that I was about to walk directly into whatever the second part of my husband’s plan was. I thought of turning back, finding a way to get out of the house and figure out a way to end this humiliation, but my husband’s voice echoed in my mind, “…violation of trust…” and I remembered that I had made the bet, and worried that I’d do considerable damage if I didn’t face the issue. “Smells SOOOO good!” the slutty voice was back…and I didn’t correct it. I turned the corner into the kitchen, and the full realization of what I was about to do hit me as I saw the empty boxes that had been addressed to my husband and “his slut Amber” scattered around the connected large open kitchen and dining room, containers full of white creamy cum on every counter and table surface. Looking into the connected living room, my husband sat in his favorite chair. “Good morning, I! I was wondering when you’d be ready to begin”
“How did you get that much cum? There’s no way it’s all yours” I realized the answer to my question and its implications almost immediately, as I simultaneously noticed the inflatable pool set up in the middle of the living room, the blinking camera staring down at it from above the living room TV.
“Don’t worry, every donor submitted a clean medical history. And it’s nobody you know, just a bunch of strangers from the internet. Are you ready to continue paying your debt to me?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said with what was supposed to be resignation and shame, but that’s not the tone that left my lips. I began to feel my yoga pants dampen.
“Excellent! Now grab a container, any container and bring it to the pool”
I did as I was commanded, excitement beginning to build.
“Am I to drink all this, Sir? I don’t think I can manage that, Sir,” I fairly cooed, like some porn slut attempting to act like a dumb teen whore. “How could I sound like this” I thought to myself, especially since I had already figured out exactly what I was supposed to do in that pool. I wanted to hear him command me.
“No, this cum isn’t for drinking, although you are free to consume as much as it takes to satisfy yourself. You are to open each container and bathe yourself in cum.”
“Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir! This is going to feel amazing!” I excitedly said, and realized I felt the gratitude and the excitement; it was not an act. The internal conflict was still raging, but the slut was winning. “Should I take my clothes off?”
“No! I want to see that little shirt clinging to your tits, soaking your body”
“Yes, Sir!” I cooed, climbing over the side of the pool with the container of cum in my hands. I knelt, looking up at the webcam. I opened the lid of the container, and smelled its contents, dipping my tongue into the creamy contents. I looked up at the webcam as I withdrew my tongue, a slight moan escaped my lips as the taste registered in my brain.
“I hope you’re all watching, I want to put on a show for you. It makes me so hot to be watched,” I heard myself announce, giving in entirely to the slut I’d apparently always been. I wasn’t sure what felt better as I lifted the container and began to pour it on myself. Was it the cum covering my hair, cascading down my tits and soaking my shirt, the little bits I caught on my tongue as it flowed down my body? Was it the knowledge that there were men watching my somewhere on their computers, getting themselves off at the show I was putting on? Was it knowing my husband was getting incredibly hard at the sight, preparing to fuck my cum covered body at some point? Or was it the knowledge that this WAS who I was, who I had always wanted to be? I didn’t even realize I had begun to finger myself as I explored my internal motivations. I received the answer to that final question as I felt the gush between my legs of another massive orgasm. I looked up at the webcam, rubbing my cum covered tits, licking my fingers clean of the cum and squirt. I picked up the lid, “Thank you, Justin, your cum felt so good! I hope you’re watching! I can’t wait for your next donation!”
“Can I have the next container, Sir, I don’t want to make a mess on your carpet with my dirty, slutty feet?”
“Good girl”
I repeated the process, opening container after container, spilling its contents over my body, face and hair, my clothes clinging to my and dripping cum down into the pool below me. Some containers I poured into my mouth, filling it up and letting the excess coat my tits and run down my body. I had no idea how much I had swallowed, certainly a lot more than last night. My stomach had a slight bulge, it was so full. As I moved, I could feel it slosh inside me. My hair was clinging to my head, a stringy mess, each strand dripping creamy white off its end.
“Thank you, Erik, for your donation! Please send me more as soon as you can!”
“Thank you, Josh, your cum tasted so good!” I thanked every donor. Time was lost to me, I was so enthralled with my slutty “punishment”. The lubrication of the cum which soaked my yoga pants completely through made my fingers even more effective, and I came at least once with every container. The pool beneath me was actually beginning to fill, I could feel it rising on my toes and knees, a mixture of my cum and the cum of countless strangers. “Please fuck me, Sir! Please fuck me! I want to be fucked with my face in this cum!!”
I bent over, rubbing my face around in the liquid in the bottom of the pool, sucking up a mouthful. “PleasI, Shirrr” I said…to the camera as much as to my husband. “Pleashe let them watchh you fuck me, Shirr”
When he obliged, I buried my face in the pool, sucking up as big a mouthful of squirt and cum as I could hold, cheeks bulged out. He pounded me from behind, my hair sloshing around my head, sending droplets of cum flying. I looked up and the camera, swallowed for my audience, the feeling of swallowing that dirty mixture of fluids and knowing there were countless men watching my husband command me to do it all sending me to a screaming orgasm. Every trace of the good girl I pretended to be was gone. I was a cumslut, an exhibitionist, submissive cumslut. I had been fucked on webcam while covering myself with cum from dozens of men. My husband quickened his pace, I could feel him about to cum.
“Cum inside me, Sir, let me feel it in my pussy!” He gave one last thrust, then quivered for several seconds as he pumped my full. I had never felt better as I collapsed, spent, in the sexy, sticky wetness remaining in the bottom of the pool, cum covered clothes clinging to my curves, belly full of what was now my favorite substance.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/k6a4xb/cumslut_gamble_pt_2_m_domf_sub_cum_fetish