“Ignorance is bliss.”
She blinks as she is on all fours, on display, wearing a collar with the tag A4350. For the last time before the interrogation begins, a woman comes in front of her and reminds her why she’s collared, “Persons found to engage in reckless sexual impropriety, including but not limited to, making available their penis, vagina, mouth and/or anus to more than five people simultaneously, consuming bodily emissions not from oneself: including semen, urine and saliva and/or obtaining carnal pleasure from forbidden persons, shall be made to describe in explicit detail the offending act(s) and re-enact the relevant activity on public broadcast.”
She gets wetter at the memory of that night, getting even wetter when she remembers that she’s wearing clothing specifically designed to highlight a pet’s arousal. A little pink patch between her legs keeps widening as she becomes wetter, as it reacts with the fabric, making it even more apparent that she might be the wettest pet in the room. Everything seems to be a blur, found guilty on three counts of impropriety, all from what happened on one night.
It was a get-together. A family get-together like any other, doing what families do. Munching mommy’s cunt, rimming her uncle’s hairy shithole as she is spanked by her aunt. Drinking brother’s and daddy’s seed, using her younger sister as her urinal, being mounted and offering her sopping wet cunt for the men to milk her and her mouth for the women to gag her. The room smelled of lust as every daughter was slathered in semen, every son slathered in spit, fingers, and fists inside the cunt that made them all, cocks inside passages their mommies told them was not for boys to play with… it was *heaven*.
“A4050, 4150, 4250, 4350! A4350!” “4350, room to the first left and second right”. She cannot walk upright anymore, all fours from now on. No knee pads of the sort, as her knees leave the comfortable cushion she was on and meet the cold, marble floor, as she exhibits herself before being moved to her designated room, back arched, ass up, revealing the pink blotches on her clothing. Undeniable proof that she is in heat.
“Follow me.” as she’s lead by a polite lady in all-black, probably the first soothing voice she has heard since her discovery and confinement. She follows her to her room. In what felt like forever, finally, she leaped on her bed.
“Glass of water?” she has no name-tag but seemed familiar to a girl she saw on that channel daddy told you was for grown-ups only, the same channel that was playing in the background that night.
“You are scheduled to perform in two weeks from now, love” she strokes her hair. “Don’t worry, we’ve measured every single artefact used from that night, strap-on, cock, cunt, all you have to do is perform it, it will be just like that night but even better, we all get to watch! It will be over before you know it!” stroking her hair as she goes to sleep.
Two weeks, fourteen days, one night, one broadcast, one fifty thousand viewers. “Recount that night, tell the viewers how you wanted it, how you craved it, swallowed it, worshipped it, performed it and finally, finished it and this will all be over before you can blink!”
—
“Morning, love! Follow me”
307.
She doesn’t exactly remember much from last night but there’s a sort of uneasiness that is very difficult to explain but oh-so-sure present. She can’t really put a finger on it but for now, she’s in this white-tile-clad room. “It won’t be so bad?”, she thinks to herself while she sits on a white chair, wearing a loose, comfortable white cotton shirt and trousers.
Definitely an upgrade from the pink stained onesie she wore throughout the night. The mirrors in her room weren’t going to let her forget it, reflections of herself, her clothing as she lied on what could possibly be the most comfortable bed in existence.
Pink little blotches. Pink puddles and dots. Pink proof that pretty promiscuous pussy loves being plowed by plentiful cock. Yummy!
“Darling, an agent will be with you shortly”, she’s brought back to the present, her assigned caretaker pushed her back to the mortal realm, unfortunately.
“Already, love? He isn’t even here yet!”. She looks puzzled wondering what was she referring to, she only got here. When the warmth between her legs turned to a sharp cold, she understood that there are no secrets within these walls. It’s a colored cloth for creamy cunts. Those patches won’t make themselves any less apparent to themselves anytime soon.
“Would you like to relieve yourself?”
“Excuse me?”, wondering what sort of workplace culture prompts that sort of question.
“Would you like to masturbate?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Those patches are visible and we need to finalize some formalities for the big day, we can’t have you distracted!”, almost semi-sarcastic but you’d have to admit one has rarely seen anybody be in heat for so, so long. “Go on, have some fun!”, she says with a hint of cheekiness and she closes the door.
There’s not much a woman can do in captivity. Actually, not much for a man either. We are primarily instruments of action, us humans. Really that’s what makes us different from animals, maybe. What’s fancy about us is we can create confinements for our own fellow beings and give them freedom encapsulated within those four walls.
Nobody’s watching, right? Instruments of action need things around us, instruments of pleasure need only oneself.
She slides her hand down those trousers that give way to her with ease, almost no resistance like it was made for this. Smooth fabric is stimulating, almost exciting, and somewhat erotic but fingers can do a lot, lot more. Would’ve been a lot more discreet if this chair didn’t have to be so cold, would’ve been like the good old days but you make do. “Fuck metal chairs.”
Her palm rests against herself, a slight tingle. The room becomes much, much colder. Her body, quite warm while her fingers touch her sensitive tunnel and her little button she lovingly calls Sally. Sally learned that it felt good to press her, tap her, squeeze around her and herself, the girls at school played with her Sally as she got to touch various Sallies. Sally was every girls’ best friend, every tongue’s best partner and Sally loved being on teddy when mom and dad weren’t home.
Clit, cunt, cock, piss, slut, whore, cum. Sally throbs, fingers against her instinctively get into motion. No resistance with the first press inward making her nipples harder while she oddly maneuvered her palm down her trousers, pitching a girl’s tent, it was a warm, warm place in a cold, cold room.
Pissslut, doggy whore, cumbucket, daddy’s girl, mommy’s cunt. Instinctively her flower gestures her index inwards and her clit sends shivers through her and her sopping wetness leads the way for her to slouch. Repetitive humping motion, thrusting motion. Absolute dishevelment.
In, out. In, out. While her trousers accommodate the pace at which she paces her finger, she slips off the chair but it doesn’t matter. She needs it. She needs it deeper, sliding a second finger in as her tunnel accommodates her thrusting fingers while she rubs her clit even faster.
“Mommy. Mommy, I’m a whore” “A disgusting, filthy whore” “A very dirty whore”
“A dirty, dirty whore for mommy”, she wraps her fingers around her neck as her face feels redder, tightness engulfing her, warming her, consuming her as blood rushes to her extremities.
“I’m just a whore” “I’m just a cunt, mommy” “I’m your cunt, mommy!”
Fingers thrusting as her warm cunt is spread, legs apart from each other while her knees caress the cold floor. “Mommy, mommy please!” as she rubs even harder, you could swear that she was seizing if you merely had a glance into the morning’s events.
“Own me, mommy!” “Take me, mommy!”
“Mommy, mommy!”
She starts losing her breath, her hand clenches harder against her neck as she tries to relieve the task from her now tired wrists to her hips. The last time she felt this warm, she had a horrible cold, but yet she’s warm in the cold but just, just as tired, she can’t wait any longer.
“Piss on me, mommy! Piss all over me! I’m nothing more than your pissrag mommy, please mommy! Pee on me, pee in my mouth, make me drink it all up, mommy! Please!”
“Fuck me, mommy, mommy please! Piss on your pretty little daughter’s pretty little face!”
“Mommmmmmy” blood rushes in as she’s about to cum, her entire body just centering itself around between her thighs as she starts breathing even faster, even shallower.
“Yes, yes, ahhh-” she’s about to achie-
“Ma’am, are you alright?” the agent who was just assigned 307 rushes in, concerningly staring at a seemingly disheveled woman in pink. To say that she was mildly distracted would be far from selling it but, it is clear she is in no frame of mind for today’s interrogation, and worst of all, it seems she’s choking on something.
“Somebody get me some water over here!”
She calls herself mommy’s whore but, she couldn’t cum, so what is a glass of water going to do now? Her caretaker is alerted, and she’s taken back to her room.
“You sure she isn’t a nymphomaniac?”
“Nothing in our records to show that.” “Have you ever seen a seizing or choking woman call herself a rag? Of course, you haven’t, you knew what she was doing and you thought it would be fun, didn’t you!”
“You know me too well Elise, I’m definitely not in her good books now but I’m sure she’ll be a lot more receptive next time!”
—
*This was initially something I was working on as a prompt on DirtyPenPals but I figured, I might as well transform it into a story! Hope you enjoy it! Would you like to see next? Would you like to see a part two? Did this turn you on, what part of it did? I’d love to hear suggestions and improvements,* [*send me a message*](https://www.reddit.com/message/compose/?to=squishylittleduck) *and tell me what you think!*
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kn13on/fuck_me_mommy_mommy_please_piss_on_your_pretty