A Gift of Hydration Pt. 02

( All characters engaging in BDSM, fetish, or sexual activity of any kind are 18 years of age or older when engaging in such actions.)

( It is highly recommended to read Part 1 before reading any subsequent parts. If one likes the story, it can be enjoyed best if one understands the nature of the characters and of the world in which they live.)

Part 2.

I sleep on a thin mat at the foot of Mistress Sa'Sakara's bed. The mat, six centimeters of something between the floor and me, along with a small pillow and a blanket, provide a modicum of comfort.

A few days have elapsed since I was purchased at the slave auction.

Mistress has not fucked me yet - she said that she wants my first time to be "special". She has ordered a costume made for the occasion, and it is not yet ready. She provided me with one of her old robes and some used cosmetics though, and instructed me to "keep myself presentable at all times". Growing up I would use eyeliner to draw small imaginary creatures on my cheeks. Lipstick is my joy. I just love wearing it, and favor a shade which is between red and pink. I prefer gloss over matte.

Mistress also gave me some cream to remove the small wisps of hair under my arms and just above my tiny penis.

"No hair, ever, except what is on your head," she instructed.

"You reflect upon me," she said.

"You are extremely pretty, and I want those who see you to want you, and to know that they cannot have you unless I allow it," she finished.

*****

In the middle of my second night as her slave, Mistress called me into her bed to pleasure her. I gave my best effort to her, losing myself in the moist heat between her thighs. At one point she pulled me up to suckle briefly upon her chocolate nipples, but most of my time was spent trying to please her with my tongue against her clit. When I sensed her close to a peak, I drew her hood between my lips and stroked my tongue against her. Her hands came to the back of my head and her hips bucked with abandon as she came against my face. I know for certain that she climaxed at least three times. When her need was met, she gently pushed me away.

"Back to your mat now, and don't clean up with a sani-wipe until morning. I want you to sleep with my scent all over your face," she had instructed.

This night, she has awakened partly, with a significant need to relieve herself, but her mind and body are still languid with sleep. Rather than make her sleepy way down the hall to her HR room, she turns to me instead.

She dangles her legs over the side of her bed, and then scoots forward until she is perched just at the edge of the thick plush mattress.

I creep from my mat and move to kneel between her legs. My long straight hair, a little disheveled, cascades down to brush against the floor at my sides.

The sequence of motion of me coming to her, kneeling just as she spreads her legs apart, and then me placing my mouth against her vagina might almost have been choreographed. In the eyes of some it might be viewed as a thing of beauty.

Mistress slips her warm palms against my cheeks, and extends her fingertips downward to touch my neck just below the jawline. Her long dagger tipped nails press into my delicate throat.

"I will pace the release so that you can drink it all. I don't want anything spilled," she purrs into my ear.

She pulls me tightly against her to make a seal between her pee hole and my mouth, as much as is possible. With that done, she releases a jet of hot urine into my mouth. She seems to know when to constrict her flow - she waits until she feels with her fingertips the quiver of my neck - confirming that I have swallowed, and then she releases again.

She fills and pauses.

I swallow.

She resumes. After seven or eight cycles of this, her stream slows to a dribble.

I sense her inner thigh muscles contract slightly as she works to expel the last drops, and then she releases me.

She strokes my long black hair once as she pulls back to wrap herself within her bedsheets.

"Back to your place now," she calls out softly as she snuggles against her pillows.

My blanket feels a little scratchy against my soft skin as I curl up upon the mat. My feet are cold so I wiggle my toes and rub my small feet together to help warm them. Eventually, I sleep.

*****

It is morning of the fourth day in my new role. Mistress has business to attend to today. She does not require me to attend her; however, I must still contribute to the well-being of the colony.

My breakfast is a small bowl of food, consisting mostly of leafy greens with a sparse amount of diced fruit and some nuts mixed in. I eat it quickly.

"On your way now," Sa'Sakara says as she clips a small identification token onto my septum ring. The bottom of the small token dangles lightly against my upper lip.

"Oh, for now, you will work a seven hour shift in the archives each workday; however, I will be reducing your hours there, somewhat, in the future. I have entered into an agreement with a colleague of mine, under which you will tutor her daughter. We'll talk more about that later," she finishes.

The token is unique, and it identifies me as Sa'Sakara's property for all to see. Owned Ys' slaves must either wear their owner's token or be chained to their owner's wrist. Only by direct command or action of their owner, and in the presence of their owner, may a Ys' slave be unchained without a token, to act as their owner might wish.

The artificial lights are on at early morning levels as I depart from Sa'Sakara's apartment. Our lighting is controlled in a way to simulate real above ground day-night cycles.

Mistress has given me one of her oldest robes to wear. It is far nicer than the slave robes that I had been given on my eighteenth birthday. I had to use small pins to raise the hem though, as Mistress is about twelve centimeters taller than me. The dark green cloth feels soft and plush against my breasts, or rather, my... tits - Mistress says that I need to start thinking of them, and referring to them, as "my tits". I am, of course, not allowed to wear any undergarments. Being a Ys', I will never need to worry about monthly bleeding or other aspects of having a vagina. Do I wish that I had been born Sa' rather than Ys'? I think about it often.

When I arrive at the archives, I'm greeted enthusiastically.

"Ys' Michelle, there you are! We have missed you," Sa'Cressida beams.

She steps close and embraces me warmly.

"Look at you, all grown up now, and with your flower tattoo and septum ring, and wearing your owner's token proudly," she says as she taps the token gently with the tip of her index finger.

"Efficiency has been down six percent during your absence," she states emphatically.

"Thank goodness you are back," she says.

I hug her in return and let her fuss over me. She has been kind to me these past three years. I'm uncertain whether, or how, that might change now that I am an adult.

"Your work station is as you left it - please resume your transcription work where you left off," she instructs.

"Sa'Cress, Sa'Cress," I hear someone call out anxiously.

Sa'Cressida hugs me gently once more before scurrying off with feigned indignation to see what new thing requires her attention.

The hours pass quickly. They always do. I learn so much while performing my transcription work. I imagine the ghosts of old world people behind the glowing words on my terminal screen - the ghosts desperately trying to teach me their knowledge, even pointing to the page I write upon, urging me to write faster. They are trying to share what they know before the end comes, before our last prime computer finally dies. My slender fingers dance across each page as quickly as I can make them go.

"I'm trying," I whisper softly.

*****

Mistress arrives home about two hours after my return from the archives.

I have set the table for our evening meal, precisely as she likes things set. Mistress receives an allotment of various fruits, nuts, vegetables, a tiny carafe of red wine, and a strict ration of water every few days. Red meat, fish, and fowl are extremely difficult to obtain, and prohibitively expensive, even for someone as well-to-do as Mistress. Everything except for the water is a product of the colony hydroponics farms. The wine and water are, of course, solely for Mistress Sa'Sakara's consumption. I suppose one could say that I receive some hydration from the fruits and vegetables that I eat, but it is not nearly enough to sustain life, hence I must rely upon Mistress or other Sa' women to provide me with the life nurturing gift of their urine.

"Come, Ys'Michelle," Mistress calls out to me as she enters her apartment.

I practically prance to her side.

She hands a small box and two bags to me.

"Your costume," she says, glancing to the box and bags.

"Take these to the bedroom for now," she directs.

"After we dine, tonight is the night..." she says.

Her dark eyes smolder as she studies me, observing my reaction.

My stomach flutters with sudden apprehension and, if I'm honest, perhaps a touch of anticipation.

"Yes Mistress," I reply.

I'm a mouse, and she, the cat about to pounce upon her prey.

*****

Dinner is ended and I have cleaned up afterward.

I pose before the full length mirror in Mistress Sa'Sakara's bedroom.

My "first fuck" costume consists of a black underbust corset which cups the bottoms of my tits, leaving my nipples exposed, and ends just shy of my belly button. A black mini-skirt trimmed with white lace along the hem barely covers my bottom. Beneath the skirt, sheer white thigh high stockings are upheld by two straps each, four straps in total, all connected to a lacy white garter belt around my slender waist. A pair of black, closed toe shoes with ankle straps and eight centimeter block heels completes the ensemble. No panties, naturally. I applied some pink-red lipstick as well as some black eyeshadow on my upper lids.

"Lovely," Mistress declares as she enters the bedroom.

"It's an old world maid outfit with some alterations," she informs me.

She approaches me, lifts my chin with a fingertip, and kisses me softly upon my slightly parted lips.

She breaks the kiss and turns from me. As she moves to her dresser, she slips from her robes along the way. She does so gracefully, casually, entirely confident and at ease in total nudity.

She removes something from one of her dresser drawers and then glides over to her bed, and sits upon its edge.

"Come, sit with me for a moment," she says, patting the bed beside her.

I join her, sitting demurely with my knees together.

Mistress places a strapon double dildo with some "extras", into my lap.

For a few moments it feels almost like we are just two friends engaged in discussion about a mutual interest.

"This end, the larger, thicker fake penis part will go in you, in your ass," she states matter-of-factly.

"See how the other end points in the opposite direction, angled up a bit differently than your end. This end goes in me, in my cunt. This little nub, here, presses against my clit. When I fuck you, I receive pleasure - you see how it works, right?" she asks.

"Yes Mistress," I respond.

"Good. Now... we will use lubrication, and I will go gently on you at first, especially with this being your first time; however, once I feel that you have acclimated and accepted the dildo fully into your ass, I will be relentless. You need to be prepared," she warns me.

I swallow. My eyes find hers, and then I nod, affirming that I understand.

"Good," she replies.

"I want you to stand up, face the side of the bed, and bend over. Place your hands on the bed, and brace yourself," she instructs.

I assume the position. My hair falls down in an inverted cascade against the bedsheets. My heart is racing as I listen to her fit the strapon to her body and secure it in place. I glance beneath my arm, and look behind me, to see her apply some lubricating jelly to her fingertips.

I look straight down again.

I feel her fingers touch my anus, and she begins to push and probe a bit, opening me up and working the jelly both into, and around my anus.

I squirm a little but remain posed as she wishes me to be.

"Good girl," she purrs.

Now, it begins.

I feel her place the fake cock head against my lubricated opening and begin to push it in - slow, gentle, insistent. She will not be denied. I gasp a little in surprise when the head finally slips past my ring and finds its way inside me.

"There we are," Mistress purrs.

She slowly drives the 23 centimeter(9 inch) long fake cock dildo into my ass until she bottoms out with her hips pressed firmly against my ass cheeks. She grasps my hips, digging her nails into my soft flesh, and begins a slow fucking rhythm.

At first I feel uncomfortable with this foreign thing thrusting into my ass, but I consider it as simply something that I must do, and accept willingly, because Mistress wishes it, and because it will give her pleasure. I know also, that this is one of the ways that I can be "milked" for my seed, but knowledge and first-hand experience are different things entirely.

I clutch the sheets with my fingers as Mistress's breath becomes uneven and she quickens the rhythm of her thrusts. My tits bounce a little in their half cups with each impact. I feel her full breasts brush my back now, each time her hips impact my ass.

In me, something changes. I feel... a new sensation as the dildo moves across my tiny nut-like prostate. At the same time, I feel things which I have never felt before in the nerves and flesh around and just inside my anus. I'm... surprised. I never anticipated feeling like this - where I feel it, or that being fucked in my ass could cause such pleasure. I begin to welcome Mistress's thrusts. Each one now causes delightful feelings inside of me and I like it, a lot.

I squirm and make soft "nnh, mhH" sounds in my throat. I'm not squirming to find freedom - I'm squirming because I want more. I want to continue being fucked like this, and even harder - it feels like I'm trying to find some crest which is unknown to me and can never be attained, but I want it desperately. I need it.

"Please... Mistress... fuck me, harder," I plead.

This is what Sa'Sakara has been waiting for.

When she hears my desperate plea, she lifts me up by my hips and launches us both, together, fully upon her bed. The full weight of her body now pins me beneath her.

The sensation of my nipples dragging across the bedsheets is almost too intense. I whimper because it just makes me want to be fucked that much more.

Mistress adjusts her position slightly, and then she begins to plow me mercilessly.

All of her pent up need and lust, all of her will and desire to dominate, all of her physical strength - everything she is, is focused into raw fucking.

My legs are bent at the knees with the heels of my shoes pointed to the ceiling. They jerk and sway with each relentless thrust from Mistress.

I'm gasping and clawing at the sheets, desperate for something more.

Suddenly, I feel Mistress arch down against me and then convulse through an intense orgasm. She bites my left ear.

"My little slut," she whispers breathlessly.

After a time, she withdraws herself from me.

I roll over and sit up slowly, my ass throbbing inside. I see a small wet spot on the sheets with some pearl white fluid not yet absorbed.

I look at Mistress.

"I didn't... I never..." I stammer.

"I know. It's alright," she says, "You're unable to, it's not your fault."

"All you can do is dribble, like you did, but, you still want it again, don't you?" she asks as she watches me.

I stifle a sob, "I can't? ever?"

Mistress shakes her head from side to side.

"Don't fear though, we are going to have a lot of fun with your slutty little hole," she says.

"You want that, right?" she asks again.

She's right, and she knows it, but she wants me to admit it.

"Yes Mistress," I confess.

Maybe a little something breaks inside me now, but all I can think of is the next time when I can be butt-fucked until I can't stand up.