Mild-Mannered Man Transformed

Slave Veronica rolled over and got to her knees before straddled Batson's legs. Then she rose up, guided the tip of his cock onto her pussy, and then dropped down impaling herself on his shaft in a single move. She then put her hands through her hair as she rose and fell in long rhythmic fucking motions. She would cant her hips differently and work the muscles occasionally to break any monotony. Her tits were jutting out prominently. Batson began to play with them. He pressed them together, kneaded her nipples with his thumb and finger, and occasionally he pinched the sensitive areas to send of bolt of pain through her and then enjoyed the resulting involuntary spasm.

Despite his best attempts to control himself, the expert ministrations of the slave had Batson on the verge of blowing his wad into her far too soon. This particularly became a risk when she began to reach behind herself arching her back in order to stroke and pet Batson's scrotum. "Off." Batson commanded her to dismount.

Batson was finding that the more he held out, the more primal his urges became and the more the underlying barriers to his complete domination of her became. With each passing moment he spent without gratification, the thoughts about whether he was being too rough or concerns about whether he was enjoying meanness a little too much were vanishing. His self-imposed frustration was giving him the ability to be a stern master, and, if it was driving the slave crazy... who cared – she was just a beast for fucking.

"You're a dirty slut. I think it's time that you took a shower. I'm going to observe to make sure you get clean enough." Batson was going to enjoy a little show before he came in the slave's ass.

"Master, may I have permission to use the toilet." His slave asked meekly.

Batson paused for a long time, as if deliberating on the request. "What do you need to do?" To his own surprise and amusement, the power to violate any semblance of the slave's personal privacy or space was really thrilling to Batson. He was living outside himself now, and all of the conventions and taboos that had developed over a lifetime were crumbling down.

"I need to poop, Master." Veronica said without a bit of hesitation, and showing indications of physical discomfort and the tension of restraining her bowels.

Batson deliberated again while showing an expression of disgust, and the finally said: "Permission granted."

As his slave walked off briskly but tensely, Batson followed her right into the bathroom. Batson smiled as he considered that even a prisoner in a Soviet gulag would probably have been able to take a crap in private without his or her space being invaded. Such was the degree of control he exerted over her. He had an inclination, bordering on becoming a compulsion, to humiliate her in the most fundamental ways possible.

As she sat down on the toilet seat to defecate, Batson pulled her mouth onto his cock and submerged it until her nose was nestled in his pubic hair. He skull-fucked the slave girl several times while she released her bowels. While she had shown great expertise in sucking cock both with the waiter and Batson earlier, she clearly had trouble maintaining her expertise and concentration while relaxing the muscles in her anus and trying to breath – particularly when being forced to take in so much of Batson's man-meat in such a furious fashion.

"Oh god, you are a disgusting little pig-slut." Batson said. He reacted to not unreasonable odor level as though a football team who ate Mexican the day before had all crapped in the pot without flushing.

"See how disgusting that is, and, my lord, smell it." He pulled her off the toilet and pushed her face down toward the rim of the bowl. She was made to stare directly at the floating turd, and commanded to take a deep breath in order to fill her nose with the emanation. Batson pulled her back just before her bangs would have dipped into the soiled water, and then let her up to flush and wipe herself. He watched the latter intently, not because it was a turn-on to see it, but because it was a turn-on to rob the slave girl of any sense that she was a free individual.

"Now you'd better get in that shower and scrub hard. Make certain that water is hot, and that you scour that nasty anus very thoroughly." Batson commanded. Then he watched as she turned on the shower before getting into it as it quickly got steaming hot.

The water was hot indeed. Tendrils of steam roiled in the air, and the slave's skin flushed under the pounding spray. She washed her hair, and, as she arched her back gracefully to rinse it out, Batson was struck by the eroticism of the spectacle and lightly stroked himself as he ogled her. Her breasts were pushed forward and up as her hands ran through her hair. She glanced over at Batson, and he imagined that she was realizing that what she had thought was a private moment was actually a peep show.

The slave turned back to working her way downward, soaping up her round pendulous breasts with simultaneous slow circular motions of one hand on each tit. She continued with her stomach and arms, first soaping them up and then rinsing them off. She was in her own world and paying no attention to her voyeur. She thoroughly cleaned her pussy and ass cleft. Putting a foot up on the edge of the tub, she was position so that Batson could watch as she soaped up her nether region, and rinsed it with the detachable showerhead in hand. For a moment, she seemed to be twisting the washcloth so as to work it into her tight bung hole. This was less a moment of graceful eroticism as a moment of preparation to be wantonly violated, but it, too, led Batson to pump his turgid member. After she had worked her way down to her toes, she cut the shower off, and grabbed a towel off the rack to dry off.

Batson enjoyed the spectacle of the girl slowly drying off. The tilt of her head as she toweled her hair provided another aesthetically pleasing instant that he enjoyed as uniquely his. She toweled under each of her round tits, and her motions around the nipples caused them to thicken in engorgement. As she bent over to dry her legs, Batson found himself staring straight at the tightly puckered sphincter of the slave's anus and, below it, at her thick pussy lips. Batson was ready to take her.

Wordlessly, Batson handed her a spare toothbrush. It was of the stubby variety that one is given by some airlines on overseas flights, and it just happened to have been left in his toiletry kit. He went into the bedroom rather than watch her brush her teeth.

Soon his fuck-slut came into the bedroom. Her hair was still a little wet, and, as she stood with her head bowed down in deference to her master, Batson watched a small drop of water drip down onto her bosom and then as the bead meandered down toward her nipple. The drip eventually dropped off the underside of her tit and onto the floor. The fragrant fruity smell of shampoo lingered in the air.

"Get over here, slave." Batson said brusquely pointing to a spot on the floor a couple feet in front of him.

She lurched into motion compliantly.

He lifted her chin with his right hand, which grasped her jaw, while reaching around and pulling the short hairs down at the back of her head with his left. This brought the slave eye-to-eye with him. "Look at me. It is time for an inspection to see whether you are still a filthy little whore!" He then leaned toward her and sniffed the air a little as if trying to tell if a carton of milk had gone bad. He then put this mouth onto her lips and forced his tongue into her mouth. He drove his tongue as deep as he could and rolled it around.

He next lifted her heavy orbs, looked underneath, sniffed, and more generally acted as though he was inspecting a piece of livestock that he was considering purchasing. He pinched her nipples then licked, sucked, and mildly bit down upon them.

"Put your right foot up here on the edge of the bed." Batson gave the command.

The slave did as she was told. However, as she was not very tall, it was quite a stretch to remain with one foot on the floor while she put the other foot flat on the bed. It was like standing with one foot in the street and the other on the curb, but, with a bed about three feet high, it splayed her legs wide. He rubbed her pussy as he had done earlier, and, as then, it was wet – though not yet quite as wet as it had been.

He moved around to her side keeping his left arm across her stomach. Batson ran his right index finger down the crack of her ass, and, when he felt it rise over the roughly textured bump of her bunghole, he sharply stabbed it up into her anus. She rocked forward and up on the balls of her feet in an involuntary reaction to the pressure of the finger, but his left arm across the front of her waistline kept her from escaping the invading finger and allowed it to drive all the way to the web of his fingers. He curled the finger around while twisting his wrist, and then pulled it back out. Upon retrieving the finger, he inspected with an air of disgust. He brought it near his face, and then recoiled as if in revulsion.

Batson moved back in front of her. "Slave, you didn't get my fuck-box clean. You've defiled it. Do you think that it belongs to you? That you can get your nasty shit all over it? No! It's mine, and I use it to store my nice clean white spunk sauce. I swear, if I had a straw long enough, I would make you slurp some out after I'm done. Then you would know the importance of hygiene." As Batson was engaging in this lecture, he was pressing the slightly soiled finger up under her nose in a manner that drover her head back slightly.

"Clean it." He said as he pushed the index finger into her mouth. She took the finger into her mouth all of the way to the base of his finger while quelling the gag reflex as she had done while taking cocks in her mouth earlier. She sucked and licked the befouled finger, and moved her head side-to-side to create a scrubbing action. The finger emerged from her mouth coated in saliva and trailing a coil of spittle, but, otherwise, it was clean as a whistle. It seemed as though the more authoritarian Batson became, the more the slave longed to please him.

He seized the back of her neck and pushed her face down toward the floor. "Get onto your knees, and put your forehead on the floor." Batson gave the command, and followed her down to kneel behind her as she assumed the position.

Without letting her get set, Batson thrust his cock deep into her hot wet pussy with a single decisive thrust. Because her hands weren't yet positioned to resist the impaling force, her face slid across the rough carpet. She eventually managed to get her forearms on the ground forward of her head to absorb the force. But it was made difficult by the fact that Batson was fucking her hard, and she was constantly being pushed off-balance whenever she rose up to move her arms into position. By now the last vestiges of the polite and sensitive scientist were gone, and he showed no interest in the slave's comfort as he satisfied his need inside her.

Batson used the full length of his member. The cockhead almost popped out on occasion, but he concentrated all his attention on roughly fucking the slave. Despite his apparent indifference toward her well-being, the slave began to push back into the thrusts, and to occasionally undulate her pussy muscles to please him. She was all about pleasing him. His waist and thighs slapped hard against the slave's round smooth ass cheeks. Occasionally, as she was pushing back he would send and open palm smacking across her ass hard enough to leave a reddened hand print. Once he managed to catch the timing just right so that her pain spasm gave him yet more pleasure.

"Stroke your clit with your hand. I will allow it because I want to get the pleasure from your orgasm contractions." Batson gave the command, and the slave wasted no time in reaching back and rubbing her engorged clit. He kept working her pussy with gusto.

"Take it all, slave. You naughty, nasty bitch, I am going to pound that pussy until you can't take it anymore." Batson's nascent experience with dirty talk was going quite well.

The slave started to spasm and moan in an intense orgasm. Batson continued to stroke until her body was beginning to be racked with orgasm, and then he pulled his cock from her pussy and rammed it into her anus. His dick was so slick with her natural lubrication that it went in with relative ease despite the tightness. Batson only got in a few strokes against her snug bunghole before he blew his load right into the slave's ass.

Batson was spent, and, as he extracted his member and stood, he let himself fall over onto his back onto the bed.

"Come." Batson commanded.

The girl moved up onto the bed and was curled up on her side with the warm flesh of her back and ass touching the naked skin of his side. She was like a pet in deed. Before he drifted off into a nap, he had an epiphany about what his next assignment would be for his slave, but first a well-earned nap for the both of them.