Bare, White and Rosy

by Penny Birch

  A gush of air spattered a few pathetic flecks of cream over the head of the dildo. Normally my cupboard would have been full of creams and gels, including proper lubricant for my bottom, but I’d used them up while playing with Percy. I cursed, and was about to run to the kitchen for some butter when I remembered that it was in the fridge and would be rock-hard. At that moment the bell went, immediately followed by a rap on the door. There was only one thing for it.

  Grabbing my toothpaste, I squeezed two fat, stripy worms on to the heads of the plugs. I knew it would sting, but I was determined to be ready for Lydia. Squatting down, I put the dildo to my pussy, rubbing the head between my lips until I began to open up, then sliding it deep. Another, more insistent rap sounded at the door, followed by Lydia’s voice demanding to be let in. I called back, promising to be quick as I stuck out my bottom and pressed the anal plug to my hole. Taking things up the bum should never be rushed, and I spent a moment probing myself until my hole began to open, then pushed. Lydia was banging on the door again, but I allowed myself to enjoy the moment, my eyes shut and my mouth wide as my ring spread slowly to the pressure, opening until at last I felt the widest part push in up my anus.

  ‘Coming!’ I called again, and dashed for the door.

  My pussy and bumhole had already begun to burn, and I was wriggling as I opened the door. Lydia saw that I was naked and responded with a cruel smirk, then glanced down as I began to tread my feet in a vain effort to dispel the rising heat of my penetrated holes.

  ‘Are you all right? I thought you said you’d just been to the loo?’

  ‘I have. It’s the plugs! Ow!’

  I shut the door hastily before any of my neighbours could see me. Lydia put down the bags she was carrying and shrugged off her coat, casting the occasional curious glance at me as she did so. My eyes had started to water and I grabbed the heads of both plugs, easing them in and out to soothe the pain, or at least to spread it out a little.

  ‘I used toothpaste to lube myself up,’ I explained.

  ‘You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?’ she laughed. ‘OK, let’s get on with it. Into the bathroom with you. Kneel on the floor.’

  I hastened to obey, getting down on the cool, hard tiles as she pulled out my dressing-gown cord.

  ‘Arms behind your back,’ she ordered, stretching out the cord.

  As I crossed my wrists for her to tie I looked back over my shoulder. The bag she’d put down beside her handbag contained something large and round, a football maybe. I was fairly sure that not even Lydia would attempt to stick something that large up me, but I was feeling more than a little nervous as she lashed my wrists firmly together. She pushed me down a little too, forcing me to bend forward and show off the plug in my bottom hole, which she took hold of, making my burning ring pout as she tugged on the base.

  ‘You’re tighter than I expected,’ she remarked, ‘perhaps some more toothpaste?’

  ‘I . . . I get loose quite easily,’ I assured her, but she ignored me.

  She took the tube of toothpaste from the cupboard and held it over my bottom, which I’d stuck out, knowing that resistance would only make it worse. She squeezed hard, emptying almost the entire tube between my cheeks, and began to play with my butt plug, making my hole pout once more. I was already sobbing with reaction, my pussy and bottom hole already on fire, the fresh paste in my slit starting to burn.

  ‘I need you good and open,’ she said, and pulled out my plug.

  I gasped as my hole gave way, and again as she began to stuff it with toothpaste, using the tip of the plug to feed it up me. It felt squashy and cool until the burning sensation returned, now so hot I was left shaking my head and panting for breath. When she finally stuck the plug back up my bum it went in without difficulty, and I could guess that I had about half the tube of toothpaste in my rectum.

  The rest went up my pussy and between my lips, smeared on with the dildo until I was burning from my mound to the top of my bum slit. She put some on my cheeks too, squeezing out the very last of the tube and rubbing it in to give me a warm glow not unlike the aftermath of a spanking. By then my pain had begun to give way to pleasure, and I managed to find my voice.

  ‘What are you going to do to me?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ she told me. ‘Just stay still and shut up.’

  She stood up, crossed to the loo and began to feed the paper into the bowl, just as she’d done the day she’d washed my face in it.

  ‘Not that, Lydia!’ I begged. ‘Not again!’

  ‘Shut up,’ she repeated. ‘I have something else in mind, but actually, since you mention it, and since I rather enjoyed washing your face in the loo, and you won’t shut up, come here.’

  ‘Lydia . . . ow!’

  She’d taken me by my hair, pulling hard to force me to crawl across to the loo, where she positioned my face over the pile of paper she’d made. I really hadn’t wanted my head stuck down the lavatory, and I was cursing myself for reminding her, but I still had no idea why else she would want to fill the loo with paper.

  Not that it mattered what I thought, or what I wanted. All I could do was try to make the best of it, concentrating on the choking humiliation in my head as she climbed on my back, just as she had before. Her skirt had rucked up and I felt her pussy squash on my spine, hot and wet through her panties.

  ‘Head down, Tasha,’ she said cheerfully, and my face was pushed against the still dry loo roll.

  She began to feed paper down the toilet once more, tugging vigorously on the roll and not bothering too much about her aim, so that it began to pile up on my head as well as fill the bowl. I tried to shake it off but only succeeded in knocking the loo seat, which landed on my head, trapping me in place and sending Lydia into such gales of laughter that she nearly fell off my back. There was so much paper down the loo I was sure it would overflow.

  ‘Lydia, it’s going to go everywhere!’

  ‘Oh, shut up.’

  ‘Lydia! What if it floods the flat below?’

  ‘Then you’ll just have to explain how you had to be bog-washed, won’t you? Now get your head in there properly!’

  She pushed down hard on the loo seat, forcing my face deep into the folds of paper.

  ‘Here goes,’ she crowed. ‘One bog-washed tart!’

  I heard the click of the lever. Cold water exploded around my head and for one ghastly moment my face was underwater and my head trapped in place by the seat, forcing me to fight back before once more abandoning myself to her cruelty. She obviously didn’t care, laughing at me as I coughed up what had gone in my mouth. It had been done, my head flushed down my own lavatory, an awful thing to do to anybody, so awful it had me sobbing and fighting back the tears as she finally lifted the seat – but only the upper part, leaving me trapped by my neck as if I was wearing a yoke. She saw the state I was in but didn’t care, laughing at me as she once more took a firm grip in my hair.

  ‘Hang on,’ she told me, ‘the cistern has to fill.’

  ‘Not again, Lydia! Please?’

  ‘Yes, again, as many times as I like. Now shut up.’

  I obeyed, sobbing bitterly as I waited for my horrid punishment to be repeated. She’d begun to rub herself on my back, just gently, and to twist her fist in her hair, thoroughly enjoying my degradation. Admittedly, I was too. My pussy was now so inflamed from the toothpaste and so wet with my own juices that the dildo squeezed out and fell to the floor. Lydia ignored it and I was left gaping behind, the cool air making my open hole burn hotter than ever.

  ‘That should do,’ she said. ‘Down you go.’

  She pushed and I shut my eyes and mouth just in time as my head was jammed down the lavatory again.

  The water swirled up, covering my ears and soaking what little of my hair was still dry, only to drop suddenly as the blockage gave way. Once more I was left gasping and spitting, with loo water running out of my nose and ears, my face plastered with bits of soggy pink toilet paper, my hair hanging dow
n into the bowl in a bedraggled curtain.

  ‘Drink some loo water, Tasha,’ Lydia ordered, and once more began to rub herself on my back.

  ‘I can’t!’ I sobbed. ‘There’s no water, Lydia.’

  ‘Oh, bugger,’ she laughed, ‘it’s all gone. Hang on.’

  The loo had drained, leaving only a great soggy mass of paper. Lydia gave a cluck of irritation as she pulled my head aside to see what was going on. My neck was still trapped in the seat, sticking through the hole. She stuck my head back down a little, twisting her hand hard in my hair to keep me firmly under control, all the while rocking gently back and forth on my back.

  ‘Eat some bog paper,’ she demanded, ‘That’ll be a laugh.’

  ‘Lydia!’

  ‘Eat!’ she snapped and thrust down hard.

  My head went into the lavatory again, only this time not with a splash but with a squelch as my face hit the soggy paper. She held me down, rubbing hard on my back.

  ‘Eat it, you little bitch!’ she yelled. ‘Eat it, or I swear I’ll piss on your head, Natasha, I will.’

  I tried to answer, but I could only make stupid burbling noises. She reached back to grab the base of my butt plug, tug it out a little way and push it back up, making me gasp as my hot, slippery ring spread and closed, spread and closed.

  ‘Come on,’ she urged, ‘I want to see you with a mouthful, and I want to see you swallow it. You can do it clean or you can do it pissy. Your choice Tasha.’

  ‘I can’t!’ I wailed, forcing my head up and around. ‘I’ll be sick!’

  ‘Just fucking do it!’ she screamed, and slapped me.

  She caught me on the side of my face, a single, stinging blow. My resistance snapped, my face went back into the bowl and I took a mouthful of the wet lavatory paper. Lydia gave a peal of laughter and began to rub herself harder, still with her hand twisted into my hair.

  ‘That’s right,’ she crowed. ‘Eat it. Take a good, big mouthful and swallow it down. Swallow, bitch!’

  I did it, the tears streaming from my eyes as I forced myself to gulp down my revolting mouthful. She saw and her laughter grew yet more demented and her rubbing harder still.

  ‘Good girl!’ she called. ‘Oh, you filthy, filthy bitch Natasha. That’s right, have some more . . . get it down you . . . fill your belly with it, you dirty little whore! Here, have something to wash it down!’

  She pulled the lever and cold water spurted out to cover my head and spill over the edge of the bowl, soaking the floor. Some went in my mouth and I swallowed it, on purpose, no longer able to resist her. She was swearing at me, twisting my hair viciously, slapping my bottom and hips, all the while grinding her pussy on to my spine. The loo had blocked, creating a pool of water filled with bits of pink lavatory paper, into which she pushed my face again and again as she rode me.

  I struggled to be a good girl, gulping down the water as best I could, mouthful after mouthful, deliberately drinking from a lavatory bowl to help her get off, with my tummy already full of loo paper. She was riding me so hard my tits had begun to slap against the hard porcelain of the loo bowl, and I knew I was going to come. It was just like the time before, when she’d used my body for her amusement. I turned at the last moment, showing her my wet face and a piece of paper hanging from between my lips, and at that she came.

  It hurt, but I held my place, reduced to her sex toy and in ecstasy for having it done. Not that she appreciated my submission, taking her time over her orgasm and giving me a resounding slap on my bum when she finally got off and let go of my hair. I tried to get up, assuming it was over and eager to stretch my aching limbs before bringing myself to orgasm in front of her. In response I got another smack.

  ‘Stay as you are,’ she told me. ‘No, not with your head down the loo, you slut. I want you to watch.’

  I nodded my acquiescence, but she wanted to be sure and looped some of my wet hair around the loo seat, tying it in a crude knot, leaving me helpless. Then she took the cardboard tube from the loo-paper holder. I knew where it was going, and would have hung my head in shameful acceptance if that hadn’t meant putting it back down the loo. Instead I made myself as comfortable as I could, resting my shoulders on the loo, parting my knees and sticking my bottom out.

  ‘Good girl,’ she said as she pinched one end of the loo roll shut. ‘That’s exactly the position I want you in. Knowing little slut, aren’t you?’

  She was right, but that didn’t stop me making a face as she got down on her knees behind me. Taking hold of the plug in my bumhole, she drew it gently out to leave me gaping wide as she pushed the tip of the loo roll in up my bum. I was slippery, but not slippery enough to take the absorbent cardboard, and she had to leave me like that while she went and rummaged in one of her bags, returning with a tub of butter.

  I stayed in position, my head trapped in the loo seat, my bottom thrust high and open, as she carefully greased the loo roll, easing it up bit by bit and using my butt plug to open the tip out. At last I was ready, with a tunnel leading in up my bottom, ready for whatever she’d decided to fill me with. I could guess what it would be, although after my bog-washing the last thing I was going to do was tell her and end up getting something she hadn’t planned in advance. It would be chocolate cake mix, a couple of pounds of it, then into panties and an embarrassingly short skirt, out into the night where she’d keep me walking until I could hold on no more. I’d fill my panties in the street and be forced to walk home like that, with a big, fat bulge under my skirt for everybody to see, and they wouldn’t know it was only cake mix.

  ‘Open wide,’ Lydia said, holding my butt plug to my mouth.

  I’d have been surprised if she didn’t make me suck it and obeyed readily enough, wondering if I could get my hands free and sneak a frig while she was in the kitchen. After all, she couldn’t very well take me out in the street tied. She stood up, her hands on her hips as she looked down at me with an expression of pure malice.

  ‘Suck on it,’ she ordered. ‘I won’t be a moment.’

  My tummy went tight as she left the room and I realised I’d been right. I twisted my head around and watched as she dug again into the plastic bag and produced not a bowl and some instant cake mix but a large ball of translucent blue plastic. I’d been wrong, but something was going to happen to me, although it was obvious that the thing couldn’t possibly be accommodated in either of my holes.

  ‘That won’t fit up me,’ I protested, spitting out the butt plug. ‘It must be a foot across!’

  ‘I’m not going to put it up you, silly,’ she laughed. ‘It’s what’s in it that goes up you.’

  I didn’t understand, until she was close enough for me to see inside the ball, in which a small, furry object lay among some shredded newspaper – a hamster. She was going to felch me.

  I was babbling immediately, in a state of utter, blind panic.

  ‘Lydia, no! You can’t, not up my bum! You can’t, you fucking psychopath! Lydia, no! It’s not fair on the hamster!’

  She had opened the ball as I spoke and dipped her hand in, her face contorted with a malicious humour I’d never imagined possible for a human being.

  ‘No you don’t, you fucking maniac!’ I shouted and tried to get up, struggling to pull the knot in my hair loose. ‘No, Lydia, you really can’t, not a felching! No, no!’

  I was screaming, but she just laughed at me, a cackling so demented that I wondered if she really was insane, and as she reached down towards the open tunnel into my rectum I began to kick and thrash and scream my head off, determined not to let her do it, begging her to let me off and swearing at her in the same breath. My bladder went in my fear and I wet myself all over the floor, spurt after spurt of urine gushing out backwards to pool around her shoes. She merely grinned, then spoke.

  ‘Look, it’s not even a real hamster.’

  She held her hand to my face and uncurled it, revealing a little furry cat toy.

  ‘You bitch,’ I breathed, ‘you utter bitch!’
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br />   She laughed and planted a ringing slap on my bottom, making my ring contract on the cardboard tube. I collapsed, spent, as if I’d just come but without the pleasure. She was still laughing, thoroughly pleased with herself at what she’d done to me. Utterly defeated, I hung my head down into the lavatory bowl, and when I spoke my voice was faint.

  ‘That’s enough, Lydia. Be nice to me, please? Just make me come, then let me go.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘You can do it yourself.’

  ‘Lydia, please?’ I begged. ‘I’m tied up. I want to be tied while I come.’

  ‘Your hair’s still tied to the seat,’ she pointed out, ‘and you were very rude to me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I answered her. ‘Please? I’m begging you, Lydia.’

  ‘No,’ she repeated. ‘Rub your own dirty cunt. I’ve had my fun.’

  ‘Please?’ I wailed, but she had already left the room.

  I noticed she’d sat down where she could see me, though, and that she was watching as she began to eat grapes from my fruit bowl. She wanted me to complete my degradation by coming in front of her, and I couldn’t stop myself. It took me a while to wriggle my hands free of the knot she’d made with my dressing gown cord, but they went straight to my sore, gaping pussy. She gave a quiet, contemptuous chuckle as I began to masturbate.

  A couple of touches and my bumhole began to squeeze on the lavatory roll holding me open, my pussy too, squashing out a mixture of toothpaste and juice, which I rubbed in eagerly. I was going to come, so soon that it was hardly going to be possible to dwell on all the awful details of what she’d done to me, but I couldn’t stop myself or even slow down. I’d been made to wear plugs for hours, one up my pussy and one up my bum. I’d got so excited I’d sucked a stranger’s cock in a pub toilet, and even after that I’d masturbated twice more before I was content. I’d used toothpaste to lube myself up, leaving my flesh sore and swollen. I’d had my hands tied behind my back and been made to crawl naked on my bathroom floor. I’d had my head stuck down a lavatory that was flushed repeatedly. I’d been made to eat wet loo paper while she rode me to orgasm. I’d had a loo roll stuck up my bottom to hold me open and been threatened with felching, scaring me so badly I’d wet myself . . . and that was what I came over, my own fear, so strong that I’d lost control of my bladder and pissed all over the floor in front of the smug, vicious little bitch who was still watching me with her pretty face twisted into a look of vindictive evil.