Mistress on a Mission

I said with a grin, "That's what shaft-wrappers are for. Catching the shot of love. Can I have my boxers and shirt, please?" Tasha obliged. "That was more than a shot of love. That was Niagra Falls under pressure, twice over," came her opinion. "I worked it hard enough so you don't have to feel guilty, though."

I was now more clothed and I answered as i re-took my spot on the bed. "You did. I've never been inside before," I admitted. "It was weird, odd, but satisfying once I adjusted to the sensation. I feel like I didn't do enough of the work. Thank you for that. Pure professional-grade prowess in the sack, and please, take it as a compliment." She wandered over to the bed.

"I will. But I'm gonna sit on you till the compliments pour out of your mouth." She straddled me as she had earlier, gently settling a portion of her weight on my thighs and into my pelvis. "Please do," I said to her, as she leaned into me. I wrapped my arms around her and said her name quietly.

"Game on. Ethan, who's your mommy?" She pulled my head forward toward her ear. "You are, Tasha," I answered. She leaned away and looked into my face. "You like it when I sit on you?" came her next question. "Yes, Tasha," was my reply.

"Tell me I gave your dick a world-class ride," she ordered. She leaned toward my ear. "Then tell me why."

Resting my head on her shoulder, I admitted, "Tasha, my dick did get a world-class ride. You did all the work. It happened because you are a world-class lady who knows how it's done. And you made me admit it."

"Last requirement," Tasha said. She looped her arms around my back and leaned away from me, landing on her back and leaving me on top. "Jesus! I almost got rodeo-ed off the sex train," I said as I collapsed carefully into Tasha. She laughed, and I felt her shaking under me. Suddenly she was all business again. "Last requirement, " she repeated. "Say my name." Her hand slid to my ass.

"Tasha," I said in her ear. Her hand slapped my rear cheek. "Louder!" I put more volume into my voice and repeated her name. "Again!" Her hand smacked my rump, the sound sharp. I gasped out her name once more. She cracked my other ass cheek twice, then squeezed a small amount of excess flesh. "Good boy," she told me, and I felt her smile. She took a few minutes to massage the minor pain out of my buttocks.

"Let's go to bed," she suggested. "Do you wanna crash here tonight? I can go to work and leave you sleeping. We'll enjoy ourselves when I get done about ten in the morning."

"I guess I can," I said. "I might run down for clean clothes and toiletries in the morning." She agreed that it was probably a good idea. "Somebody put me on the spot," I quipped. I took my button-down shirt off. I slid off her carefully. She looked at me, her face relaxed and expression soft.

"Share the bed?" she asked as she moved and stretched out, grabbing the covers.

"God, that'd be hard," I said, sliding in with my back to her front. Her arms nestled me in, and she doused the bedside lamp as we marched off to dreamland.

Chapter Four

I woke twice in the wee hours of Saturday morning, confused but jogging my memory the first time, and comforted back into sleep by the closeness and warmth of Tasha's body. When I woke again around 8:30, her half of the bed was empty. I got to thinking she probably had to start her shift by seven.

I roused out of bed and splashed water on my face. Then I went in search of a note from Tasha, which I found on the kitchen table. There was also a key, I assumed for the door; she asked that I lock it if I ventured home to tend to some needs. I went back to the bedroom and pulled on my pants and shirt. I returned, pocketed the key, and locked up as I left.

At home, I took a quick but thotough shower, brushed my teeth, used the toilet, and had a light breakfast. I checked to be sure I had my keys and Tasha's loaner, and headed back to Cruise-In Coffee with clean casual clothes and a few toiletries and extra clothing items in a small duffle.

Behind the counter tending to her duties, Tasha spotted me shortly after I came in and gave a quick smile and a wink in my direction. By quarter after ten, Tasha wound down her shift and collected me. Once through the rear door of the shop, I returned her key. She preceded me up the stairs and into her place.

"That was a long three hours, and I'm starving ,so let me get some breakfast and then we can have each other's undivided attention," Tasha said. I dropped my bag of essentials in the bedroom, and after retrieving a book therein, I made my way out to the kitchen table. Tasha had selected cereal, a bagel, fruit and juice to quell the hunger monster. She raised an eyebrow at me when I reappeared.

"I appreciate you thinking of me, but I grabbed food while I was at home for a bit this moning," I said. She shrugged at me with a smile, and settled to eat. I buried my nose in my book until she finished. She opted for clean clothes to dispell the coffee odor clinging to her. To the average person, food or beverages smell good, but work in the food industry more than a month, odors are absorbed and fast become unappealing.

She appeared again shortly and found me settled on the loveseat. She tended to some minor housekeeping, and then made her way to me. She flipped the footrest out on my section of the couch, and proceeded to very carefully straddle my upper thighs and pelvis, tucking her arms over my shoulders and carefully resting against my torso. Her head rested at my right shoulder.

"Too much?" she asked when she was comfortable. "No, actually it's just fine," I responded. I looped my hands around her waist and let them drift down to rest gently on her wide posterior. Tasha couldn't resist.

"Hmmmm, no mystery what you're thinking about," she said.

"I could lie, and hope to keep my ass out of trouble with my mistress," I joked.

"I always operate like you are always in trouble with me, until I let you off the hook, and I know you like it," Tasha explained.

"I have no argument for that," I said. We cuddled for awhile longer, simply being lazy because important matters had been tended to, at least for the time being. Shortly, Tasha began to fidget in my lap. Then I felt her stomach flex. A long report of gas crackled between her ass and my thighs.

Tasha took a deep breath and sighed. This time I took a dig. "Yes mistress, I felt that, right in my legs, so mission accomplished," I confirmed. Her response was a sultry "You're welcome, Ethan," right in my ear.

I was getting antsy, so I suggested a walk. "I would," Tasha said, "but I still haven't bounced back from three hours on my feet yet. You go, though. Exercise is important. I'll be here," she said, sliding off my lap. I gave up my spot and Tasha sprawled out. I put shoes on at the door, and before stepping out, I said, "By the way, the jeans you wear really flatter your ass. I steal a look as often as I can," I said. She looked at me as I stood ready to leave. "You're serious," she stated. "Absolutely," I said honestly. She put hands on hips. "Go take your walk, Romeo," she said sarcastically as I disappeared out the door.

I returned 20 minutes later, to find the TV keeping Tasha company. It went off as I walked in and she made room for me after I grabbed some water. "Two questions," she said. "First one is, what do you want to do about dinner tonight?" I thought for a minute. "Around the corner, there's an old school diner that serves good food, and most of it won't give you a heart attack. I go there because they serve breakfast all day," I said. "What's the second question?"

"Second question is, have you ever put a spin on your bodily function fetish, and maybe thought about being tied up while a woman relieves herself, with you as her target, and you can't get away? Sort of a 'this is going to happen, there's no escape' kind of deal," she explained.

"I'd never thought about it, or necessarily had that kind of fantasy in particular, but it might be a fun wrinkle to try," I offered.

"I asked because I would like to do it with you. There doesn't have to be cheesy scene-making or anything. Just a little dialogue and gentle domination," she finished.

"I'd be up for that," I agreed. "Tonight, you think?"

"Yeah, I'll probably have nature calling tonight after dinner and before bed," she decided. So this evening it was. We kied a itte more time in front of the TV,and when that bored us we decided to support good brain health by reading, which we both seemed to like. We broke for lunch and awhile later Tasha wanted fresh air, so we walked and window-shopped.

By the time we were thinking about the return trip, the evening meal hour was upon us, and we journeyed to the diner, where I had Texas-style french toast and sausage. Tasha ordered a short stack of pancakes and fresh fruit with her sausage. I paid the entire bill as we left an hour later. We took our time getting back. When we did, Tasha raided her movie collection, and we chose Cast Away with Tom Hanks and curled up together.

As the movie ended, Tasha made her anouncement. Three hours after finishing her meal, and with lunch also sitting in her belly, Tasha needed the bathroom for the whole nine yards. She took a chair from the kitchen and set it in the bathroom. I met her there and stripped to my boxers. Tasha fastened my hands low on the chair back, after putting bedsheets on the foor, the seat of the chair ,and making a loop over my lap. She used soft fabric for the 'restraints.' She also secured my legs.

She turned her back, apparently thinking. Actually, getting into character, because she gazed at me and said, "Well, I advertise that I'm open minded. You're a pervert who decided he wants to be pissed and shit on." She closed the door and came to me, unfastening her jeans and peeling off her t-shirt and lingerie. She swung a leg over my lap and stood there.

"Well, you're going to get it now, and backing out is not allowed. You are tied to the chair, and you'll stay there until I let you go. There is no going back. No stopping. No breaks until I'm done with you. Begging will get you nothing. That and whining will be ignored. No crying because you can't handle it. You chose to be here, you are my toy, to be used as I choose for as long as I see fit."

Tasha placed her hands on my shoulders. Putting her lips to my ear, she whispered, "And so it begins." I hung my head, like some poor bastard who had accepted fate's dealing him a shitty hand, and not caring enough to fight it; just wanting to get the suffering over with.

More gas rolled out of Tasha's ass, loud and bold and packing bad-egg stench. She did her best to put forth effort that made her functions obvious. I watched the area between her legs. Soon, piss began streaming out of her pussy. I moaned. Tasha sighed, willing her stream to stay strong for as long as possible. My lap was already soaking wet. She'd run like a faucet for several seconds. My thighs got wet next. I continued staring, big-eyed and all. Finally, her pee factory shut down, leaving her golden power shower dripping off me to the sheets on the floor.

"That's right. Keep watching, you poor pervert," she taunted quietly. She raspberry-squelched more gas. She turned around and backed her ass over my lap. "Here comes the coup de grace." Tasha squatted and bent forward just a bit. Her anal opening would be mine to gawk at when her body started to work..

Tasha's belly muscles worked. She breathed deeply and relaxed. I focused on her anus. Slowly, it expanded, just beginning to show the log she needed to drop. Then it contracted and swelled again, and I heard Tasha exhale a long breath. Again her anus dilated, and a couple inches of brown mass slid out. She took another breath and braced her legs. She moaned softly, and I was watching her load slowly grow out of her rectum. She took one more long breath, and as she exhaled she groaned and pushed. Stil very large, another section of her waste slid toward my lap. Tasha's rectum flexed, and a turd with more diameter than a tennis ball, and a thick body about eight inches long, tipped toward me and fell softly into my lap. Dark brown and soft and heavy.

The stench was suddenly intense and fierce, reeking of rotten eggs. Tasha reached for toilet paper, used it, and dropped it into the toilet. She took her time with her jeans and lingerie and left her t-shirt off. At last she turned and surveyed my lap, her eyes widening at hte sight of what she'd left there. She retrieved the rubber gloves from the vanity cabinet and pulled them on. As she made to collect her gift to me, her nose wrinkled and she got a closer look at the sizs of her deposit. "Good God," she whispered. Without meeting her eyes, I smiled and thought, "Good girl, Tasha. Very impressive delivery." And it was.

With more care than usual, Tasha got her load into the toilet. She got the sheet off my lap and tended to the floor. What had ended up there hadn't gotten the floor wet. She pointed at the shower and took my boxers and the sheets to her washing machine. In the shower, I got wet and scrubbed very thoroughly. I stepped out and dried, covering myself with the towel and making it to the bedroon where I slid into clean boxers, lounge bottoms, and a t-shirt. Tasha returned, after I'd heard the shower again.

Without saying anything, she slipped into bed and spooned in behind me. I heard the dryer stop. Tasha didn't move, so I slid out and checked the door and killed any unnecessary lights, then returned to the bed and let Tasha cuddle me into blessed blackness.

Chapter Five

Sunday, around eight a.m. Clearing my brain fog I turned toward Tasha and recalled her requirement to put in another morning shift. I remained lazy and bed-headed for another half hour. Then I tended to my morning routine and ditched my sleepwear for athletic pants and a clean t-shirt. I walked out and got breakfast, leaving no trace of a mess or used dishes when I finished. I skimmed through a recent newspaper and found nothing of interest. I found ESPN on TV and took in a little sports news.

Tasha returned about 10:30, chipper and cheerful. She had been oddly quiet after our escapade last night. As she parked herself next to me, still wearing a big smile, I commented.

"Hey, were you weirded out by the mild scat and domination roleplay last night? You were just about mute after we finished."

She turned to me. "It wasn't weird. I wanted it. Even though I didn't try hard, I think I kind of got in a zone. Then, part of me was shocked by the results of my work. I didn't think it was possible for my bladder to be that full. And I swear, Ethan, I've never taken a shit that big in my life."

"Yeah, was it hard working that one out? Painfil or anything?" I wondered.

"It needed a little time, is all. I didn't push too much, and it actually came out of me pretty easily," she answered. "It sure was nice to get rid of it."

"Well, I was hard again before you started to pee. I had a wicked erection by the time you were really soaking things down. Watching you poop, and then the result sitting in my lap, made me so stiff it hurt. But God, I liked it," I confided.

Her response was to sit back and pull me toward her, wrapping her arm around me. I leaned over, enjoying the closeness, as well as experiencing a genuine affection for Tasha. To me, she wasn't unattractive. A little large, yes, but pretty in her own way. And very able to use the physical attributes she had to keep herself happy, as well as to satisfy others. And there was the parallel of our fetish interests. She was open enough to take me down a road I wanted to explore, and willing to give me what I told her I thought I wanted. That made me state a concern of mine.

"Tasha, I hope you don't feel like you're doing all the work. I really haven't asked if you are satisfied, and getting something out of this deal," I said.

"You know what? I don't care. As in, I don't need to 'get anything' out of something to be satisfied by it or about it. I made you the offer of a kinky weekend. I told you I had a desire to explore performing my bodily functions with another person as a target. Working as a mistress, what we expect in return for our efforts is that the person who requests our services be cooperative and obedient and follow the rules we outline before a service engagement starts. We want the person to submit to us, to allow us to do to him or her what we think will help them achieve their personal goal. You are not technicaly my client, but based on what information you were given, you have met my needs," Tasha said, "and you needn't feel inadequate about anything that we've done," she finished.

"I wanted to check," I told her.

"It's good that you did. Some wouldn't. In many cases it wouldn't matter. Most of the time, like now, I appreciate it. And it fits. You don't seem to just chase what you want. You care about things in the world around you. A lot of times, even on average, that's a rare trait in modern times. It's one I like, and try to exercise," she replied.

A short while later we agreed on the nearby deli for lunch. After letting food settle for a while and killing time with our noses buried in books, we agreed on take-and-bake pizza for our last dinner of the weekend. Tasha went to get it and returned to stick it in the fridge. I had done the gentlemanly thing and given her money to pay the tab for it. When she returned I mentioned taking time for my walk, and she chose to join me.

We returned and idled away the balance of the afternoon, until we chose to eat dinner, with another movie. The pizza went into the oven at its conclusion and came out less than twenty minutes later. As we let it stand to cool, Tasha said, "You know, I usually cook two or three nights a week. But it has been busy."

"I do too," I said. "And yes, it has. Besides, cooking is a good skill for a single person to have. Buying groceries twice a month is always cheaper than eating out," I added.

"Scratch meals are healthier," Tasha noted. "But genetics have kicked my ass a little. The few times we've walked together, I have noticed I feel better physically, so I am going to take that up, see if I shed a few pounds."

"I suspect the results will surprise you," I answered.

"Says the relatively skinny man," she quipped. At this point we cut the pizza and helped ourselves. We occupied the kitchen table as opposed t being in the living room with the TV. Cleanup was simple, and we retired to the living room, but didn't get all sappy as we each occupied ourselves.

At one point, as I returned from a water and bathroom break, Tasha pulled me into her lap before I had a chance to seat myself. Slowly, she pulled my face to hers and kissed me. I'd been noting that she was a good kisser, too. Lucky me, getting a few pointers for not having had a ton of expereince. Kissing talent was something I had always personally appreciated with a woman.

She gently broke the kiss. "Ethan, I want one more toilet outing before our kink time is over."

"Yes ma'am," I agreed.

"Can I have something else?" she asked.

"I do take requests," I said, grinning.

"You've been smitten with my ass, and enjoyed my tits. Can I have the royal treatment for each of them?"

"Yes, you may. Is there to be a minimum time requirement?"

"I just want them both worked over," Tasha said.

"All right, no problem," I agreed.

About three hours later, the bell tolled, around ten p.m. Tasha rose, took my hand, and led me slowly to the bathroom. All of her clothes came off. She lifted the toilet lid and sat. I lost my pants and t-shirt. Tasha turned me around, spread her legs, and backed me in. "Always the true professional," I said.