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On the first day, it was easy enough, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when Milady came in and sat on the toilet. “I couldn’t wait any longer and I just have to pee,” she said as we shared the same space. We do not often share the bathroom. Sometimes she will come in while I am having a shower and then slip away before I even knew she was there. Nevertheless, usually whatever was done in the bathroom was well, private.
That evening, I was getting ready to go to bed and Milady joined me in the bathroom. She asked me to hand her some toilet paper so that she could clean herself. I unrolled a pad of soft paper and gave it to her. She was done her business and all seemed very well, routine. I was actually surprised at just how comfortable she was in this intimate business.
The next day, I was washing my hands and again Milady came into the bathroom. She said, “My nails are wet, will you please pull down my pants.” I undid the waist button and let her panties slip down to her knees. She needed a little help balancing while she sat down to pee. When she was finished, again she asked for some paper. I went to hand it to her but she stopped me saying, “My nails. Would you terribly mind?” and spread her legs open. I kneeled down for a better angle and wipe her pussy but she stopped me saying, “Don’t wipe, just pat please.” When I finished pulling her pants up, she said “Very Good” and kissed me as I knelt before her. She said, “You take such good care of me.”
On the third day, we were in the living room; she moved over beside me and kissed me softly. She smiled and softly said, “I have to pee, would you like to help.” I grinned and went with her to the bathroom. I knelt before her, undressing her and helping her get arranged. The water from her body sprayed into the toilet bowl and without prompting, I cleaned her nether region. As I was about to pull up her panties and pants she stopped me saying, “Lick between my legs.” I kissed and licked the lips of her pussy, still salty tasting and musky scented. She patted my head and said, “Your very good at this,” as I helped her get dressed. “Meet me here tomorrow morning.”
First thing the next day, just as we were getting ready to get out of bed, she told me to go to the bathroom and wait for her. I still had no clothes on but went into the room and sat on the side of the tub waiting for her. When she came in, she smiled and said, “When you are waiting for your princess, you should be kneeling.” She put a folded towel on the floor and told me to kneel on the soft cloth. I knelt down and she smiled. Then I helped her arrange herself on the throne. She emptied her bladder and her bowels and then instructed me on how to clean her. I was to use a soft wiping motion to clean her rear from front to back. Then I was directed to use a new soft tissue and patting motion to clean her pussy. She told me that she loved having me take care of her and left the room. As she walked out the door, she said I may “Flush her throne.”
That evening, I was sitting on the toilet and she came in. She looked sternly at me and said I was not to sit on her seat. I asked “but then where was I to go to the bathroom?” She told me that while I may use the toilet, I did not need the seat part. I could sit on the ceramic basin. Embarrassed, I got up, lifted the seat, and re-sat myself down on the cold porcelain rim. When I got up, I put the seat down and she took my place. After she peed into the pot, she said I should have a lesson in humility. I took a pad of toilet tissue to clean her but she said “no. Use your tongue.” With that statement, she stood up and opened her legs into a wide ‘V’ stance. I slipped between her legs and lapped her pee away.
The next time I helped her in the bathroom, she told me that she quite enjoyed having my tongue as her tissue, and instructed me to repeat my efforts. This, I see now, had grown into a pattern. I enjoyed being her toilet attendant, as strange as that felt, but I felt also captivated in her power over me. This became just a regular part of my life and serving her felt as natural as any function. We quickly grew into a normal routine, I would find myself kneeling by the toilet waiting for her each morning, in the evenings I would join her as we went to bed.
One afternoon she stopped what she was doing and called me to the bathroom. “Kneel,” she commanded and I took my place at her feet. She was not standing where she usually stood when she went to the bathroom and today she was wearing a short shirt. She lifted the skirt to reveal she had no panties on. I smiled at the pretty sight of her Brazilian trimmed pussy. “Get under me and open your mouth,” she instructed me. Slowly she let go a small trickle of urine that fell into my gaping mouth. She stopped a bit to allow me to catch up and swallow. She repeated this until she had emptied herself into me. Then, as it was now my custom, I licked her dry. She smiled and said, “Good, I like that.”
The next morning as I waited in the bathroom, she came in and stood in that very same place before. She lifted her night shift and again I found myself drinking from her fount.
This was to be our new arrangement. No longer would she be seated on her throne to pee. From now on, it would be my place to be her toilet.
I began to rebel at this duty, there would be times where I would be too busy to get away to attend her in the bathroom and she would have to wait. Alternatively, I would be too sleepy and already be fast asleep when she wanted to go. This would not do. She needed a way to keep my attention focused on her. Her approach would be that she would take charge of my manhood and she had just the idea of how to do it. A friend of hers, at a girls’ night out party, had brought a little steel cage. Apparently, the tool was intended to fit over her boyfriend’s member, and with a snap of a lock, it would ensure faithfulness always. Milady arranged to borrow this ball and the next day it was attached to me.
The cage was about the size of a baseball or large orange. It was a mesh of steel that had 1cm rectangular openings all around it. It clamped itself around my penis and balls. The first thing we found out is that this would work better if I had no hair there. So off came the ball and my testicles were neatly shaved. Milady quite liked the bare look, so she decided she should take a picture of it. I do not often get the chance to see myself from that angle so I obligied with an impromptu photo session. The cage was installed again, and this time it was snug and secure. With that, Milady snapped a lock in place and I immediately knew what this meant. I was no longer her playmate; she now controlled me. It would not be my choice when we made love, I would have to ask her for the key. I was not sure about this.
However, Milady was quite sure. She could feel the juices of passion building up between her legs. She sat back on the couch, lifted her skirt to reveal her moist mound and instructed me to lick her to an orgasm. I slid my face into her ‘V’ and kissed the inner thigh softly. Soon her breathing quickened as my tongue worked away. She pressed my face deep into her pussy as she pulsed with an orgasm. She realized the power she would have as a Mistress and that I would indeed be her slave.
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