Pretty Little Toilet

Was planning. Before untying her. Hannah latched onto those words, trying to get her heart to slow down. He wouldn't be saying that if he still planned on doing it.

Something he confirmed a moment later when he sat it down and sighed in an exaggerated fashion. "But I guess you've earned sink water and a rag."

Except the thing he tossed in her direction wasn't a rag. It was her shorts.

Hannah opened her mouth to explain this, only for him to shake his head. "Come on, don't start complaining now."

So that had been intentional. Before Hannah could process that, he spoke again. "Look, you have two choices about the floor anyway. Either you can use your mouth to lick up every drop, or you can use your shirt to mop it up. And if your shirt is going to be soaked, why not your shorts too?"

The idea of kneeling and trying to clean the floor with her tongue felt impossible with her muscles aching like they were. It would be hard enough getting down there to wipe it up with her shirt. So reluctantly, Hannah held out her hands.

Ignored how pleased Ryan looked with her choice, even as she let him help her back down to the floor.

Every single muscle in her body ached as she rubbed the floor near the urinal with her shirt, trying not to get upset as the impossible nature of the task became apparent. Sure, the first bit of piss soaked into the fabric just fine, but other than that, she was just pushing it around. Even if she did manage to get most of it toward the drain, there would still be a residue.

A pair of hands around her waist startled her, and she struggled against Ryan as hard as she could when he pulled her up. Which was to say, barely at all. Weakly she let him pick her up, propping her up on the counter.

"I-"

Ryan cut her off, "Again with the back talk. I will piss on your shorts myself and shove them in that big mouth of yours."

Something about his own comment made Ryan stop, tilting his head to the side. "Actually, should have thought about that before putting your ass up there. Filled your mouth with piss and told you that you weren't allowed to swallow. A piss gag of sorts."

Hannah wasn't really sure how she was supposed to respond to that, so she didn't. Kept her mouth shut as he disappeared through a door on the far side of the bathroom. Came back with an actual mop bucket.

Much quicker than she would have, he cleared the floor that they'd messed up. Didn't seem interested in covering the whole space, didn't bother with anything near the stalls, but it wasn't Hannah's place to say anything about.

Especially when he was doing her such a favor.

Once he'd rolled the cart back to the closet, he returned, grabbing her shorts off of the counter. Squatted slightly so that he could pull them up her legs, using an arm around her waist to lift her back up so that he could get them up all the way.

Pulled back to look her over, eyes lingering on her sticky chest even as Hannah cringed at the dark spots on his clothes. Hopefully, he'd packed an extra set.

A ridiculous thought considering he was so determined to send her home completely covered in piss.

"Let's get your shirt back on-" The comment seemed more to himself than to her, but she did her best to comply, shuddering as it stretched her sore shoulders. "There we go. Also, tell your Master that I cleaned the floor and I dunk your head in the toilet."

Hannah blinked at the threat. "With him there?"

Ryan gave her a look. "Rather I do it now?"

No. Hannah never wanted to get off this counter again. Besides, why would she want Master to know she'd gotten off easy? "My lips are sealed."

With that assurance, Ryan glanced around the bathroom. Packed up the last few things into the toy bag before dropping it next to her feet on the floor and joining her on the counter. Closed his eyes and leaned his head back, pressing it into the mirror. "What a day. You must have drank gallons of piss."

It felt oddly casual, though she supposed her clothes being on meant the scene was over in Ryan's head. "Felt like it. Covered in just as much of it. No thanks to you."

Ryan snorted, grinning into the nothingness. "What can I say? You're pretty hot for a toilet. Next time I think I'll start off by fucking you with your head in the urinal. Thought about dragging you to a stall before cleaning the floor, but again, would have felt like shit if I was the one to break you."

That was nice of him.

A buzzing broke Hannah's thoughts, and she watched as Ryan checked his phone. "Alright, your chariot awaits. But first? You're going to want to roll those ankles. It's gonna hurt like a bitch, but it'll be better than falling everywhere for the next day."

When she whined, Ryan patted her thigh. "You can do it. Work through the pain."

Easy for him to say. Each rotation forced the blood to continue flowing, forced her to be more aware of just how badly her entire body ached. Would continue to ache.

Tomorrow she would appreciate it. The pain would have dulled enough to not quite be pleasant- but at least further away. A reminder of what she'd gone through, what she'd done.

For the moment she couldn't think straight. Groaned again when Ryan slung the bag over his shoulder before helping her to her feet.

Hannah wobbled, her eyes on the ground, refusing to see any of the stragglers, to look anyone in the face who might have used her just hours before. Out the door they went, and she didn't even protest when he opened up the back door to Master's car. There were towels stretched out over the seat, and she listened as he encouraged her to lay down there. She gave a half-hearted wave when he told her goodbye before shutting the door.

Exhausted, Hannah began to dose soon after her head hit the seat. Something Master allowed until they were almost home. "I see you did quite well for yourself."

Hannah wouldn't know. She hadn't been able to count the money, didn't know how much she'd been paid for being made an example of. Still, she made a content noise to acknowledge what her Master said. If he said she'd done well then she'd done well. No matter the amount.

Thankfully, Master didn't seem too bothered by her lack of a more vocal response. "What did you think about Ryan?"

Hannah didn't want to talk. She wanted to nap for the next twenty years. Maybe take a shower first. But the idea of stringing words together? "He's an asshole."

Master chuckled. "We all know how much you like assholes. Did he take good care of my little toilet slave?"

It took her a moment to understand that he couldn't see her nod. "Yeah."

And then, because if she didn't ask now, she might not ever work back up the courage. "Can I see him again?"

See him again. Let him fuck her into the toilet or take her on that camping trip. Maybe, if that was too far away, he could have her over as entertainment. It shouldn't have excited her, being made into a toilet. But it did, and how much he loved it only made it better.

When Master answered, it was with amusement clear in his voice. "Of course, lovely. But first- we're going to get you inside and in the bath. Okay?"

A bath. Why hadn't Hannah thought of that? "Wash my hair for me?"

Master put the car in park, seemingly ignoring Hannah's question. Carefully pulled her out of the car once he'd gone around to her door, reaching to grip her under the knees and carry her bridal style into the house.

An impressive feat of strength, only slightly marred when he fumbled with the lock and almost dropped her. But Master recovered easily enough. Nuzzled her neck, teasing that she really did need her hair washed as he carried her through the house. Made a joke about needing to help, because if not she'd probably drown.

Somehow, he managed to carry her the rest of the way. Didn't lower her again until he'd reached the bathroom in their house. Settled her down on the toilet, something Hannah found inappropriately amusing. At least there was some sort of continuity to her life.