Degrade Me Again

The following story contains watersports and is a continuation, by popular demand, of a story of consensual sex which some readers may find somewhat extreme. Please rate and comment as feedback is very welcome! I hope you enjoy and suggest you seek out the first part if you have not come across it yet.

***

The icy cold of the tiles beneath Beth had numbed her backside to an unfeeling lump of meat below her spine. Her legs, encased as they were in sheer black stockings, were slightly warmer as they lay sprawled on the floor in front of the toilet. Her shoulder blades had begun to ache from resting against the ceramic bowl behind her head for the hour or so she had sat in the pitch black downstairs bathroom, her hands fastened to the u-bend by the thick fabric of a tie without any slack to give her distance from the piping each time she shuffled with discomfort.

There was no window in the downstairs water-closet and the light switch was beyond the closed door. Even had the bare bulb above her head been on, Beth would still not have been able to see her surroundings due to the thick black fabric of the blindfold Rick had fastened over her eyes. She would not have been able to regard herself sprawled in front of that mundane white throne, her black stocking-sheathed legs in front of her, her arms pinned firmly behind her, her milky-white flesh exposed to the icy air of the barely furnished room.

She could feel the sigh of a cold draft brush her naked body, feel the goose-flesh puckering her skin, turning her nipples into hard bullets of arousal, peaking firmly from her large breasts thrust forward into the darkness.

It was near silent, the only sound an occasional, echoing drip in the cistern behind her or a creaking floorboard somewhere else above as her husband shifted in his office chair.

Despite the cold and the discomfort, or rather because of it, she could feel her juices running from her uncovered pussy, warm and smelling sweetly tangy on the air.

There was a burning desire between her legs, and not only the one that patiently waited for some eventual abuse. Over the last half-hour or so, her bladder had gradually been mounting a protest which she had, with delight, been suppressing. The need to relieve herself was building to such a level that waves of desperate pain were now radiating from her lower abdomen and she knew that soon she'd have to answer the call of nature despite her inability to move. The dripping wasn't helping at all nor was the presence of the pool of water sat behind her head.

She licked her lips at the delicious displeasure and contemplated her husband's reaction to finding her sitting in the inevitable pool of her own fluid.

A few more minutes went by and Beth knew that it wasn't going to be possible any longer to hold in the deluge her body was screaming at her to release. With a long sigh in the darkness, she relaxed her muscles and lowered her barriers. There came a hissing sound from below and gradually her backside warmed as a pool of piss spread beneath her. She could feel the initial jets of pee spatter her thighs before the stream subsided to a slow leak, wetting the floor around the toilet, before all her water was released and Beth was left sitting in a quickly cooling puddle of her own pee.

Sighing contentedly, and letting loose a mischievous giggle as she slid a little in the water, Beth closed her eyes beneath the blindfold and reflected on the chain of events that had led to this evening where she sat bound and ready for her master's abuse to commence.

***

Rick had been a little reticent to talk about that night for a few weeks after. Despite her gratitude and delight at what they had finally indulged in, Beth sensed a lingering guilt or shame on her husband's part for what she had induced him to do to her. She knew, however, how much he'd enjoyed himself; his rock hard cock that night could testify to nothing else. His prudishness of before was clearly a suppression of his true desire and Beth knew that now that they had crossed that boundary, they could never go back.

She couldn't go back.

For so many years she had fantasised about being taken the way he had taken her and when he finally had, he'd managed to surprise her with some dirty additions of his own. There was no way she was going back to the banality of the missionary position after she'd finally got her wish to be degraded in the way she'd always dreamed.

But she knew better than to rush him; far better to let him consider that night on his own and, when he was ready, they'd talk it over and she was confident she could talk him round to fucking her again in such a fashion. She'd waited long enough for the first time; she could wait a little while for the second, she told herself.

A month passed, however, and Beth found herself becoming sexually starved. She wanted to respect her husband's needs but after that intense experience she found she could think of little else. At work, she discovered that she kept drifting off, unable to focus on the screen before her face. Colleagues noticed and kept asking her if she was alright. She would blush at their earnest faces; no doubt they were worried that she had some terrible malady- depression or illness or both; if only they knew the cause of her distraction!

She'd tried masturbating to relieve the pressure, to expel the lust. Long baths with her hand between her legs just wouldn't cut it though. She needed something more, something extreme enough to keep her satisfied. It was just too much and Beth resolved to up the ante a little with her self-satisfaction to try and approximate that sensation of release she'd had with her head down the toilet that sensational night.

Across the street from the glass and steel edifice that housed the secretarial humdrum of her day-to-day boredom, was a shop with blacked-out windows and a flickering neon sign that spelled 'XXX'. For several years, Beth had wondered what could be found beyond the peeling paint of its front door, what devices and material could lay inside to bring reality to sordid fantasy. She'd never summoned the courage to step beyond that door however, and had had to content herself with the odd glance at some red satin curtains through the crack formed when the occasional desperate-looking man entered or left the shop's confines.

Today was different. Today Beth would step into that world and find for herself something to bring some relief to her sex-starved body. Several times that morning she caught herself nervously tapping her pen on the edge of her desk, watching the minute hand pass ever so slowly across the white clock face on one wall of the shared office as she waited for the lunch break. Finally it came and she grabbed her purse and made for the lift.

***

Beth glanced about her as she stood before the door to the sex shop. She fervently hoped that no one from work would see her as she stole furtively into its interior. The door set off a harsh electronic buzzer and she hastily closed it behind her.

She turned to face the inside of the shop she'd fantasised about entering for so many years and was slightly disappointed. Racks lined one wall from which a variety of cheap-looking outfits hung encased in transparent plastic covers. Shelves stood against another displaying overpriced DVDs and some fetish furniture was set up in the middle of the room. It was all a bit predictable and Beth sighed with anti-climax. Still, she was sure what she sought could be purchased somewhere in this sordid den and made for the till.

Behind the glass-topped cabinet that served as a desk, on which sat a battered electronic till, a bestubbled man with greasy hair eyed her with mild surprise, a lustful sneer stretching his features. It wasn't often he had young women enter his shop alone, especially ones dressed in grey pencil skirts and jackets.

Beth ignored him and surveyed the interior of the glass desk in which lay the objects of her quest that day. A myriad of plastic and metal phalluses sat beneath the glass. Some were smoothly formed approximations; others were moulded recreations of veined cocks. Some were double pronged and her breath caught as she considered their use.

She licked her lips and spoke to the shop owner without meeting his leering gaze.

"Could I..." she began hoarsely, then cleared her throat and tried again. "Could I have a look at that one please?"

Her finger tapped the glass counter top over a single purple vibrator. The shop owner followed her finger.

"You know," he began and his voice was croaky from chain smoking, "there's others who could satisfy you if the old man's not up to it."

Beth finally met his watery gaze. She wanted degradation but she realised in that moment that even she had a limit.

"No thanks," she answered shortly.

The man shrugged before retrieving a key from his pocket. Slipping it into the lock on his side of the desk, he reached his nicotine stained fingers inside and retrieved the item. He handed it to her.

Beth gripped it by the base and turned it back and forth before her eyes. It was slightly smaller than her husband's penis but it would suffice, she thought. It was formed of semi-transparent purple rubber and had a twistable cap on the bottom. She wondered what man had been the model for the mould as she regarded the reproduced veins and the smooth mushrooming end.

"It's fine. I'll take it... please," she breathed as she imagined jamming the device deep inside herself.

"Good, good," the man took it from her again and placed into a rectangular box which he hinged shut. "You want any batteries? We've got a sale on if you buy them with the vibrators."

"Yes, please," Beth answered, excited that she wouldn't have to wait until she got home to try out her new best friend.

***

The lunch break was almost over as Beth returned to her workplace. As the lift doors slid shut behind her on the tenth floor where her company's offices were housed, she glanced about her furtively, seeking any sign that her co-workers had seen her on her mission and learned the truth of her depravity. But they just milled around her, cups of coffee in hand, oblivious to what lay nestled in the leather handbag tightly clutched in her hands.

"Hey, Beth. Where did you get to?" Katy from accounts asked as Beth made for the toilets.

"Oh..." Beth began, hoping her nerves didn't show. "Just popped to the Subway down the road... I had a hankering for meatballs."

Katy flicked her short blonde hair away from one cheek with a well-manicured hand. "Ah, you should have said! Next time grab me before you go. I can't stand anymore egg and cress!"

She was a petite woman, shorter and slightly younger than Beth and she knew that, should Katy actually accompany her to Subway, she'd elect to have her roll filled with salad rather than anything wholesome, but despite their differences they were friends. This didn't mean, however, that Beth could even contemplate confiding in her with her frustrations.

Then she was gone, sashaying back to her desk, and Beth was left with ten minutes to spare before lunch was officially over. Not wanting to lose any more time, and desperate now to carry out her plan, Beth tried to stop herself from running to the ladies'.

She was pleased to see a lone woman exit as she entered, leaving the black tiled toilets vacant. She strode straight for the far cubicle, her black heels clacking on the floor. She quickly locked the door behind her and placed her handbag by the side of the toilet bowl before sitting down on the closed lid to catch her breath.

Now she was here she felt a little silly. Why couldn't she just wait until later where she could carry out her desires in privacy before Rick got home from his own work? But no, she needed this and she had to admit that the locale and the chance of getting caught added an extra thrill to her nefarious exploits.

She stood up once more and lifted her pencil skirt, sliding it over her nylon covered legs to her waist, revealing her black panties beneath. She ran her thumbs into the waistband of her tights and panties and slid both down her smooth thighs to rest just under her knees. Lifting the lid behind her, she sat down on the cold plastic seat and spread her legs as far as the tights and panties would allow.

She leant forward and unzipped her handbag. She withdrew the purple vibrator, batteries already installed as the sex shop owner had let her check to see if it functioned properly before she had left.

As she held it in her left hand, her right slipped down between her legs and she gingerly ran her middle finger between her pussy lips. They were moist in anticipation and a little sweaty with her brisk walking of before and she stifled a moan as her arousal was stoked.

Lowering the vibrator she twisted the cap and shivered with sensation as it began to buzz with a low hum in her hand. She guided the tip to her opening and began to slide it slowly into herself. The pleasure released through her body was electric, enhanced by the naughtiness of her surroundings, and she could feel her orgasm begin to immediately build. She began to slide the ersatz cock back and forth, in and out of herself.

It wasn't quite the same though; something was missing. It just wasn't dirty enough, wrong enough for the woman who so craved abuse.

She paused in her ministrations, the vibrator buzzing inside her body, and tried to think of a way to approximate the degradation of before. She swallowed as an idea occurred to her.

Sliding the cock out of her she lifted it to her mouth and wrapped her red painted lips around its length, running her tongue across the smooth rubber and tasting her sweet juices which tickled her nose with aroma.

A little better. Her finger unconsciously ran back into her crotch as she sucked on the rubber phallus, the buzzing vibrations echoing in the cave of her mouth.

She withdrew the cock, sucked clean of juice and returned it to her pussy. She still needed more: more degradation, more humiliation.

She ran her fingers over her lower abdomen and realised she'd been holding her bladder since she had got back to work. Another idea flashed across her sordid mind and she smiled.

Withdrawing the vibrator once again, she spread her index and middle fingers around her pussy lips and spread them. Closing her eyes, she willed her body to respond.

At first it was like pushing against a dam but, gradually, she felt her internal muscles loosen and opened her eyes as a jet of warm piss shot from her pussy to drench the buzzing cock held in her left hand. She breathed a sigh of arousal as she let forth another few sprays, coating the vibrator with her fluids. The water dripped from its length, pooling on the edge of the toilet seat before her open crotch and running from her fingers splayed around the opening of her vagina.

Then she lifted the vibrator to her lips and inhaled her scent. Running the wet fingers of her right hand back into her pussy, Beth opened her mouth wide and slid the fake cock inside. She closed her lips tightly around its purple length and continued to thrust so the tip edged to the back of her throat.

This was more like it.

She began to furiously frig her clitoris as she held the vibrator in her mouth, pushing it hard enough to choke herself. She coughed and spluttered, saliva running from her lips and chin, remembering when her husband had brutally fucked her face.

She paused from time to time to let loose sprays of piss, coating her hand and thighs, letting it drip into the bowl beneath, before returning her finger to work at her clit, building an orgasm of some intensity. She was panting hard through her nostrils as she forced the vibrator to the back of her throat, choking herself as if some uncaring monster was using her mouth as a socket for his release.

Then it was upon her, wracking her body with waves of sexual energy, and she bit down hard on the rubber in her mouth to stop herself from screaming with pleasure.

Slowly, she stopped shuddering and let the vibrator fall from her mouth to buzz away in her lap as she took deep restorative breaths. She felt some release, some dampening of the sordid desire that had consumed her since that night of passion with her husband... but, still, it wasn't enough.

Beth knew that she couldn't be truly satisfied until he took her again. No amount of depraved, self-administered abuse would ever compare to that feeling of complete degradation.

With a sigh, Beth twisted the vibrator off and unravelled some toilet roll to clean herself up with.

***

As it was November, darkness had enveloped the quiet suburb where their house stood by the time Beth pulled into the driveway in her battered VW Golf.

Once inside she fixed herself a large glass of red wine to relieve somewhat the disappointment of the afternoon and also partly to steel her nerves for another night of dissatisfaction. After the small relief of her masturbation in the company toilets her desire to be degraded by Rick had returned with new fervour and she didn't know if she could respect his distance much longer. She quickly finished the glass and exhaled a frustrated sigh as the alcoholic warmth failed to subdue her lust.

Picking up her handbag she kicked off her high heels and ascended the stairs, entering their bedroom. There was the matter of hiding her new toy and Beth felt she had the perfect place. It had certainly become more perfect in recent weeks, more definitively not a place her husband would find the replacement for his cock.

Beth opened her underwear drawer and buried the vibrator beneath some lacy black panties.

***

Rick sighed as he pulled into the driveway. He regarded the yellow glow peeking round the edges of the wooden blinds that hid the kitchen from sight. He knew that inside lay his beautiful wife, his perfect partner, preparing dinner for them both and steeled himself for another night of resistance. Resistance of what he wanted to do to her. Resistance of that burning desire to give in to that sordid lust and demean her body.

That night had been a revelation to Rick. What she had asked for had shocked him, then intrigued him, then led to the greatest sexual satisfaction he had ever known. But it had also made him deeply ashamed and guilty. A feeling of disappointment with himself had grown until he felt the need to restrain such animalistic urges and maintain a distance from the one he loved to ensure that he wouldn't lower either of them again to such a depraved level.

Nevertheless, Rick couldn't deny that every waking moment of his life since then had been consumed with uncontrollable lust for her and a dreadful need to give in, to take her the way she had practically begged him to.

I must suppress this urge, he thought. I can't let this desire corrupt either of us again.

He turned off the engine and, taking a deep breath, prepared himself for the night ahead.

***

Beth was an excellent cook but both of them picked at the meal she had prepared. Both of them were distracted and communicated little. What was there to say? Eventually, she stood and retrieved his neglected plate to dump the remains in the kitchen bin without a word.

Rick excused himself and went upstairs. Booting up the office computer he closed the door before clicking open the internet browser. A few taps of the keys later and he was regarding the sordid images he used as a surrogate for any actual physical relations with his wife.

Women lay bound and wet with fluids before his sight and his cock stirred but he knew that their two dimensional unreality would not satisfy his burning lust. No amount of extreme European fantasy could approximate that release of before.

Rick knew he needed to come, needed to release that devil that tormented his thoughts, at least for a little while. Switching off the screen, he made for their bedroom. There was one way at least that he could feel somewhat close to her without giving in and actually touching her.