Rage Against the Latrine Ch. 22

"And I bet your bros will love to play with Portia. Innocent girls are Brad's thing, right?" Natasha swapped with Maddison on the toilet, and her bare ass positioned itself on the seat. She adjusted herself and rolled her fingers through her hairless snatch.

I opened my mouth, eager to take her discharge. My fiancée's glabrous cunt, seconds away from covering me in her delicious, nasty wine, looked divine. The musky room stunk; the acidic ammonia-heavy urea hung on my tastebuds and in my nostrils and my cock had never been harder. "Yeah," Maddison replied. "My brothers'll love chasing his bird. And you!" I gulped as a trickle sprung from her slit; her fingers held her lips apart as the honey-coloured nectar flowed from my lover and splashed on my nose.

The filthy degradation filled my mouth until the harsh liquid overflowed and ran down my chin. It burnt as I gulped it; the sweetest, exquisite, delectable champagne, laced with unclean, indecent repugnance, slipped down my throat. I adored the vile flow, wallowed in her vulgar activities. "We've all got Hall Passes," Natasha replied as her obscene stream eased and she shook the last drips free of her cunt. "No Holes Barred." She giggled as she rose from the seat and didn't glance at me as they left the room.

I waited; wet from their warm piss, breathing in the heady scents of their wanton debauchery. My cock strained, desperate for a touch as I swilled my tongue around my mouth the savour the lingering intense taste.

A couple of minutes later, the door opened. I heard cheering from the kitchen and I saw the naked body of Tubby march into the room with my fiancée. They had daubed his slightly podgy belly in a black marker pen, which his undersized erect cock showed he had enjoyed.

"You'll stay here for an hour or two. We'll bring you beer, maybe." I heard the clicks of the handcuffs and the chuckles of the punk rocker. "See ya later, you fucking pervert!"

She did not acknowledge me as she left the room. "You OK?" I asked him in the half-silence.

Tubby said nothing for a moment and sighed. "Yeah. Your girl is crazy."

"I warned you about that at your wedding," I replied.

"She set this up. Completely. Portia had lunch with her and she told her what I wanted and..." He gulped and breathed deeply. "... and what she wanted, clearly. She's topless in there doing shots. I've never seen her like that. And she wrote on my body."

"What did she write?"

"Someone gave her a marker, and she scribbled TINY PRICK on my stomach and an arrow. They all laughed." His speech trailed off as the door opened. Two women chatted as they approached the showers, and I recognised the voice of Yasmin, the band's crazed drummer.

The bi-racial lover of Fox perched her bronzed derriere on the seat and continued her conversation with her companion as she released her golden stream onto my face.

Not a break in her discussion as the two women urinated over the perverted submissives. They did not acknowledge us as the amber fluid splashed over my flesh, into my hair and across my skin, before draining onto the floor and rolling across the tiles. We were irrelevant, insignificant, and worthless. A part of the furniture, as Yasmin dowsed me and my throat with her nastiness.

A strong taste with earthy overtones, her warm pee lingered on the palette, long after the two women had departed from the toilet. "Better than when Catherine did it to you?" I asked in the silence and Tubby grunted.

"Yeah," he muttered.

I recognised a few of the visitors who defiled me; I didn't recognise many more. Natasha's sister - the cherub-faced innocent blonde of Svetlana - was a treat. She entered the room, holding the hand of a mixed-race stranger, and the girl with the cappuccino skin approached the fellow pervert. My future sister-in-law gazed through the toilet seat at me, with a disbelieving expression in her glazed blue eyes. "I told you there's nothing sexy about pee," she muttered as she lowered her jeans with her bands and parked her soft, silky buttocks on the seat. "You sure you want me to do this? It's disgusting."

"Yes," I muttered, staring at her femininity. A few neatly trimmed hairs around her mons, and a glossy pinkness, with delicate lips that parted as she adjusted herself. "Please."

The medical student exhaled as a soft honey gracefully tumbled from her bladder, sprinkling over me. Her pee was warm and sweet, a delightful taste on the nose as it filled my mouth and slipped down my throat. An exquisite treat from the elegant beauty. She sighed as her flow ebbed and she dabbed her cunt with toilet tissue. "Can't believe that you enjoyed that," she muttered. "But Nats doesn't do normal men." She peered through the seat, a look of intrigue on her face as she tucked her blonde hair behind her ears.

"I don't do normal women," I replied, and my future sister-in-law pulled her jeans to her waist and left me.

There was Suna, the fellow fan club member, and all the band, as well as dozens of unknown people. Thin, fat, athletic, slender, hairy, shaved, waxed, tattooed, ink-free, black, white, Asian and everything in between. The variety of women who visited us, increasingly drunk, was considerable.

They all followed a familiar pattern; the revellers entered the room and perched their backsides on an available toilet seat. If they chose me, I looked up at the bare flesh, taking in the sights of their wondrous slit. A slight flinch, and then I would close my eyes as the first drops of their pee landed on my skin, spraying over my face. Warm and soothing, like a tropical thunderstorm; pungent and bitter, like decaying waste. My open mouth had to catch a gulp of the flow. I had to taste every woman that defiled me, before they wordlessly departed, leaving me glowing and coated in urine in the cool shower room of the student accommodation.

My flesh glistened. My mouth and nose smelt and tasted of pee, and my cock had barely flagged. I lay in the wetness as it slowly oozed down my body to the drain beside the shower. Tubby and I rarely got more than a minute between visits. My stomach bubbled with the gulps of acidic piss that drained down my gullet, although as the evening wore on, the pee became watery as the vast quantities of alcohol left their bodies and diluted their urea.

The amount of clothes waned too; when Svetlana used me for the second time, she came in just her plain briefs, revealing her cute, perky breasts. My future sister-in-law was too sexy. Lean, fit, with a smooth, pert butt and long, silky muscular legs. But so innocent; she reluctantly defiled me, as I longed for her nectar. She lived in a different world and Natasha had brought her, for a night, into our sordid lives.

Meanwhile, Portia used Tubby naked, and when Nessie debased me, she wore just a sparkling butt plug.

The band kept us hydrated too. Yasmin and Maddison both poured bottles of beer into our mouths and when they dowsed me in IPA, I spilt some of the ale as I frantically swallowed the drink. When that, combined with the piss I gulped, filled my bladder, I soaked myself, making me more sticky.

Most of our visitors ignored us as they voided their bladders, but a few offered humiliating words or disdainful looks. None more so than the guys who came; I heard the male voices as a slender Black woman emptied her sunflower yellow pee over my chin, and a topless bearded man covered from neck to waist in colourful tattoos replaced her. His hand pointed his cock downwards as he sat on the seat and wordlessly released his stream against my face.

The fierce jet left the magenta helmet of his uncircumcised prick that smashed into my lips. I turned my head, unable to stop some slipping into my mouth. Apart from Jamie, no guy had ever given me a golden shower and my cheeks burnt as Maddison's eldest brother used me. He spoke across the divide. "Hey, are you pissing on the boy whose wife you've been feeling up?"

"Yeah, she's cute. But I can see why the slut is searching for dick. Come look at the size of this dude. He's fucking tiny."

The flow of pee stopped as the guy stood up to peer around the dividing wall. "Fucking hell," he muttered as he reseated himself. "That's pathetic. Maddy's rat when she was at High School had a bigger prick!" He relaxed his bladder once more. "But Maddison said they get off on this shit."

"I'd rather fuck these bitches," the other guy replied as the torrent slowed. "They're all desperate for it!" He shook his cock and left the room with his brother.

"You OK?" I asked the moment we were alone.

He grunted. "Yeah. Do you think Portia will, y'know?"

"You gave her a Hall Pass, right? Did you ever expect her to do shots, strip naked, and do everything else you've seen today?"

Tubby sniffed. "No." He waited for a few moments. "I've asked her if she wants to play away, and I said she could, but she told me she didn't want to."

"If Natasha has anything to do with it, she will," I replied, and he said nothing more; he was deep in thought and I wasn't sure what I could say to make him feel better. These were his fantasies, and he desperately wanted them, but I suspected the reality was overwhelming.

Yasmin used me with cum leaking from her cunt, and she wasn't the only creampie I ate that evening. I lost track of time and who visited me as the raucous party next door, fuelled by excessive drink, caused a constant supply of full bladders and dripping pussies.

Portia evacuated over Tubby once more, with the fruits of infidelity seeping from her snatch as she explained the sordid encounter to her husband in excruciating detail. The size of the pricks, the rough, animalistic fucking and the gorgeous orgasm caused by Maddison's inked brothers as they railed her in a bedroom. Tubby's bride had never felt so satisfied or so full.

Maddison's kin were not the only men at the party; I guessed around two or three dozen, and given the amount of creampies that leaked onto me and visits that I had, I am sure most of them got laid.

But we had a continual stream of users, each person forcefully jettisoning their warm, steamy pee over my face. The liquid exhilarated and excited as it landed on my skin and cascaded over my body.

Natasha and Portia, both naked, walked in together, hand-in-hand. They swayed as they entered, and my fiancée peered through the seat at me. "We're going to unlock you both. Have a shower, and come in to the kitchen. We have some more games. You both stink and no touching your fucking dicks."

My lover unlocked my wrists, and I groaned as I stretched my muscles. All around me reeked of piss. My flesh was tacky and sticky and the puddles coated the tiles. The two women watched their prey as we showered. Portia photographed her husband as the cool water shocked us before it warmed up. I liberally used the lemon shower gel on my hair and skin, and the dominatrixes gave us a pink towel each to try ourselves.

The party had spilled into the corridor and several of the bedrooms. A few dozen people filled the flat and revellers crammed into the kitchen, standing and sitting where they could. A hush descended as we entered the space, followed by a few jeers. Faye threw a plastic bag at Tubby, who caught the football sized package. "They're your clothes for the rest of the evening."

The expression on the submissive's face as he pulled out the flimsy material and the slow realisation that the satin and polyester garments were female was a delightful mix of excitement and revulsion. He looked at Portia, wrapped in the tattooed arms of Maddison's youngest brother, as she watched the scene unfold. "But..."

"Fucking come on," Natasha snapped. "Panties first." The maniacal laughter was demeaning; the comments were worse as the silky blue briefs covered his small, erect prick and then a white blouse hid the humiliating writing on his skin. A short black pleated pinafore, and then the hot pink tie and belt, made him look like a scandalous school girl.

My lover caught my eye with a wicked grin and passed me a bag. The thigh-high stockings, lavender briefs and all-in-one purple cheerleader outfit was a figure hugging nightmare of humiliation. The attendees roared as I stood alongside my friend in the sleeveless garment.

Faye guffawed, and Natasha put two fifty-pound notes on the nearest table. "They're from your wallet. We're out of vodka and we want some fucking crisps. Get as many bottles as you can. There's a 24-hour supermarket down the road. Off you go, girls."

Portia bit her lip and looked away as the laughter rippled through the room. Tubby mewed; his conflicted expression was obvious. He couldn't understand why his soul adored the inhuman torture.

As we stepped in the cold, midnight air of London, with the car horns of activity a street away with nothing more than flimsy cross-dressing clothing and flip-flops, he shivered. He hated every moment of merciless and unrelenting suffering. The torment gnawed at his self-respect and his dignity, and the abuse pained him immensely. The sight of his wife cuckolding him scarred his soul, and he felt worthless.

He had become trapped in a nightmare created by his fantasies. And yet, he wouldn't swap his adventure for anything in the world.