Morning Brew Ch. 04 - Final

Caroline didn't come to my room the next morning, and I didn't see her at all during the day. Even when she wasn't around, I couldn't stop thinking about her, wanting to see her, hoping I might spot her across the quad, feeling like any minute she might appear at my side. But by the evening, I was feeling frazzled and jumpy. I wanted to see her -- I didn't know how to contact her -- and she had proved entirely unpredictable. I even tried knocking lightly at the door to her room, but there was no answer. I certainly wasn't bold enough to attempt going through the door we shared without an invitation.

Classes hadn't started yet, but the hallways were bustling as the upperclassmen moved into their rooms for the year. Every time I heard activity outside my door, I hoped it was her. And every time, I was disappointed that it wasn't.

The only time I locked my door that evening was when I took a few minutes to masturbate, reliving the events of that morning. And when I was finished, I unlocked it again -- what if she showed up, looking for me?

But Caroline didn't come at all that night. And the next morning, I brewed a single cup of coffee for myself, which I took to the last orientation assembly, wishing that Caroline was a freshman like me. At least then I'd know she was in the room with me. But she wasn't.

I plodded off to lunch with the rest of the group, by now feeling quite depressed. Where was she? Didn't she know I was waiting for her? What -- or whom -- was she using as her toilet in the meantime? And why did the thought make me so jealous...?

In the afternoon, I met with my adviser, feeling like I was going through the movements on autopilot. She even commented on that fact, asking me if I was tired from all the sudden change and excitement. It was easiest just to nod my head and agree with her conclusions.

During dinner, I thought I might have spotted Caroline across the crowded room -- but it was just a girl from the lacrosse team who resembled her. I managed to sit with some other kids who had been in my orientation group that day, and did a passable job of pretending like I was just as cheerful as them. To be honest, I didn't remember anything we talked about afterwards.

I couldn't stop thinking about Caroline -- where was she? At that point, I would have been so thrilled to see her that I wouldn't have minded if she forced me down on the floor to use me in the cafeteria, with the whole student body watching.

I was trying to distract myself from her absence, and postponing the moment when I had to return to my own empty room to be alone, so I agreed to tag along with the other freshmen when they made an expedition to the ice cream parlor down the road.

All the little things they were chatting about -- our upcoming first day of classes, our advisers, our peer mentors, the location of campus relative to the town, and all the interesting things to do nearby -- seemed to pale compared to the magnitude of how Caroline had shown up and unexpectedly rocked my world. It was no exaggeration to say that I was a completely different person even from just a few days ago.

It was a couple of hours before I made it back to my room, finally mounting all the stairs with a weary, ice-cream-bloated attitude.

And realized, with a shock, that there was a light on in Caroline's room; I could see it spilling under her door into the hallway. I felt the deep pang of realization that I hadn't been here when it mattered, when she might have tried the door to my room. Damnit.

I didn't even think about it. I just reached out my hand and knocked at her door.

There was a shuffling noise, and the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, and after a moment the door opened.

"Hey, piss slave," she said cheerfully, though her face looked tired.

"Are you...are you okay?" I asked with uncertainty.

"Sure," she yawned. "I just spent the last two days in the archives trying to finish my research before classes start tomorrow."

"Oh." That made sense.

"What?" she said slyly. "Did you miss me?"

"Um."

"That's slave-code for yes." Caroline opened her door wider. "Come in, then."

"R-really?"

I had never been in Caroline's room before. It was neat, and pretty, and colorful. Here were some photos above the desk of Caroline with friends and family. On the desk was a lamp in the shape of a camel. Her bedspread was paisley. A poster on the wall read: CAPITALISM IS EXPLOITATION. Essentially, it looked like the bedroom of a normal, though quirky, college-aged girl.

But then she grabbed me by the collar and I was reminded that she was not a 'normal girl.' This incredible, zany woman was a force of freaking nature. Even without being prompted, I dropped to my knees in front of her. My expression, as I looked up at her, was entreating.

"You want something, don't you, slave?" she murmured.

"I do, mistress," I whispered.

Her face indicated that she was relishing this. "Unfortunately, slave, I'm all tapped out right now."

"I...I could fetch you something to drink."

She laughed. "You're sweet. So sweet that, although I was tempted to soak your sheets when you weren't in this evening, I abstained."

I bit my lip. "I should have been there. I'm sorry, mistress. I...I wanted to serve you."

She stroked my cheek. "What a good little toilet. I'm so glad I found you, slave."

"I'm...so glad you chose me, mistress."

Her face was soft when she looked at me. "I chose right."

She glanced at the clock; it was getting late. And tomorrow was the first day of classes for the whole student body.

"Mistress..." I said pleadingly. She looked at me. "Don't..." I swallowed. "Don't send me away tonight, please...not without letting me serve you. Please."

She patted the top of my head. "I do like it when you beg. Okay, slave. How about this. If you can wrangle your twin-sized mattress through that door and onto the floor here, you can sleep below me. That way, if I wake up in the middle of the night, I don't have to go far."

"Yesmistressanythingforyou," I said quickly, and as soon as she released me, I darted into my room and started maneuvering the mattress over. She watched me work with an amused smile.

"Right there is perfect," she said as I navigated it next to her bed. Her bed wasn't too high that I couldn't reach up and touch her even while lying down. I flopped onto it, a bit self-satisfied at my luck to be here with her right now.

And then Caroline got down on the mattress with me, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. I stared at a single glow-in-the-dark star in the corner, left by some previous occupant, trying to remember to breathe. She squeezed my hand once, briefly.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Then she climbed into her own bed, leaving me on the mattress by myself, smelling her in the air around me, wanting her, thinking of nothing but her...

xxx

I was woken up in the morning by the change in pressure as Caroline stepped down onto the mattress. Excitement kicked in as soon as I opened my eyes and saw her there, hovering above me, ready to lower herself onto my face.

"Ready, toilet slave?" she crooned.

"Yes, mistress," I gasped.

Usually she clamped her pussy tightly against my mouth, creating a seal so the liquid couldn't escape; but this time, she remained in a kneeling position, her thighs on both sides of my head, keeping her cunt several inches above my face.

I opened my mouth obediently and, from a good six inches away, she urinated into it.

"Ahhhh fuck," she sighed as she peed. "Yes. What a good toilet."

I was rock-hard now, from morning wood and sudden arousal, and almost unconsciously I rubbed myself through my pants.

"Hey," she said suddenly, shifting around. "What are you doing?"

"Um," I mumbled around a mouthful of liquid.

"Did I give you permission to touch yourself?" she asked sternly.

I gulped and swallowed, and said, tentatively, "No, mistress. I'm sorry, mistress."

"You'd better be," she grumbled. "I have plans."

And with that, she knocked my own hovering hand out of the way, seized the waistband of my pants, and yanked them down until I popped out, hard.

"Mmm," she said. And then she took me in her hand, letting her fingertips flutter over me until she gripped me solidly at the base.

"Oh fuck," I said involuntarily when she squeezed a little. I was leaking already.

"I like your pleasure," she said, eyeing my stiff member. "I like seeing how much you enjoy being my slave."

"I...I love being your slave," I said honestly.

"Good," she purred. "Bad slaves should be punished, but...I'm a fair mistress. Good slaves should also be rewarded."

She gave one slow pump and I felt my breath catch in my chest.

"You like that, toilet?"

I nodded, unable to speak. Caroline, who had dismounted, suddenly climbed back on top of me, sitting on my face but facing the opposite direction, towards my feet. She reached forward to stroke my cock.

Seeing her pussy above me, still shedding the last clinging droplets of piss, I felt a spasm rushing toward me.

"I'm-" I managed to get out, in warning. "I'm gonna-"

"Not yet, you're not," she said, changing her grip slightly and ceasing her ministrations until the moment subsided. I was so powerfully erect that it was almost painful: or it certainly would have been, without her soft hands there to ease and rub away the tension.

I groaned as she touched me; there were several moments when I felt ready to shoot my load, but Caroline always knew exactly the right moment to back off and leave me hanging. I was starting to worry that she might edge me and leave me like this, tell me to go to class with blue balls -- that would have been true torture -- but as it turned out, that wasn't at all what happened.

As the feeling of another imminent, powerful climax vibrated through my body -- and though I was at this point incapable of speech, I think my wordless sounds conveyed all the desperation I felt -- Caroline lowered herself toward me, and I automatically opened my mouth in anticipation, letting her settle herself against the aperture.

And -- yes, she was pissing. She stroked my cock while she relieved herself into my mouth and fuck, now I really was coming, unable to do more than mumble around the powerful stream.

I orgasmed hard. With each spasm, each spurt of ejaculate, I felt tension leave my body until it was replaced by a sense of warm, melting bliss. At the same time, I was drinking deeply from her. These were not distinct experiences -- behind my closed eyelids, they were inextricably connected.

I bathed her clean with my tongue, trying to prolong the experience. Caroline also lingered, seemingly reluctant to end this session.

When I stuck my tongue out flat, she grinded against it. The muscle of my tongue was pressed so tightly against her that I could actually feel her cunt fluttering as it tightened with arousal.

I encouraged her to use me, with sounds and small movements; her grinding sped up slightly. She rubbed herself against my tongue, making little noises of relief. I could feel her legs on either side of me shaking as she approached her own satisfaction.

When her moans turned to whimpers, and her legs started trembling in earnest, I put my own hands on her hips and waist, helping to hold her up above me. And, struck by a sudden thought, as the space between her pussy and my tongue got more slippery, I thrust my tongue up and into her cunt, penetrating her.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh, fuck. Oh, I'm gonna-"

I felt the first spasm: and then, to my surprise, she squirted.

All over my face, and into my open mouth, and onto my tongue, and chin, and neck, and chest: as she orgasmed, she sprayed me utterly, gushing out this fount of liquid with a force I didn't see when she was just relieving herself.

I was fully erect by the time she dismounted, on quivering legs, without even waiting for me to lick her clean. Both of us fell back on the mattress, Caroline wordlessly handing me a towel. Without even thinking, I opened my arms to hold her. She let me, snuggling closer, heedless of the way my erection pressed into her.

I wanted to say "wow" or "fuck" or "that was amazing," but no words could possibly convey the magnitude of the experience, so I said nothing at all. But I did kiss the top of her head, and she looked up at me and smiled.

"Alright, slave," she said. "First day of classes. We should get ready."

I had honestly forgotten, in the excitement of being with her. The clock said we still had another hour before the first block began: so we showered together, and when I got dressed in my room I made two coffees. One for each of us.

When I knocked at the interior door between us, Caroline opened it with a hairbrush in one hand, looked at me, then traded a coffee for the hairbrush. "You need this more than I."

I tried to flatten my hair as best I could while Caroline watched with an amused expression. "Thanks for the coffee, slave. Hey, when is your first break?"

"Er..." I consulted my schedule. "I have two 90-minute classes, and then a break from 11-1."

"Perfect," she said. "Let's meet up back here and go to lunch together."

Then she stepped in close, chest-to-chest, and murmured, "After a full morning of classes, I'm going to be pretty desperate..."

She took a sip of coffee, pointedly. I shivered.

"Anything you wish, mistress," I said. "I'm yours."

"You are, aren't you?" she said, sounding pleased. "You're mine."

I was hers. I was hers for a long time -- but that's another story.