Chapter Two Restroom Revelations and Waiting-room Agony
Deanna's Tao (Book Two)
Chapter Two
Restroom Revelations and Waiting-room Agony
"Lift your porno-booth, cum-mop of a head you slot-snot soaked, stupid bitch
and look me in the eyes. NOW! Are you quite finished with this self-indulgent
exhibition of your pitiful excuses for milk sacs and distribution of methane
gas? Jesus in the Congo, girl, you are the most sickening sight I have had
the displeasure to set eyes on, in my 32 years of stumbling across the worse
of human shit maggots in existence. Moreover, are you always in the habit of
rudely staring at all women's feet as you did at mine? That's a hell of a
fetish you have shit breath. Now, answer me you insipid slut. Do not look
down! Look me in the eyes and answer." The passengers were dumbfounded and
inching as a herd toward the door, in preparation for a stampeded to whatever
floor, regardless.
Dee did as she was commanded. A total, unmitigated mutual focus was locked
in by both she and Rhea. It was the most honest, unmistakable and
uncompromising mental condensation and symbiotic alliance each had ever made.
Though actual implementation of a relationship would soon prove paradoxical
and confusing, each knew, that destiny had indeed placed an ornate,
well-constructed frame around both of them. Paradoxically, it would be their
own free will, passiveness, assertiveness, strength of purpose, malleable,
yielding, enduring flesh, ruthless savagery, high and low tech inventiveness
and the highest humiliation quotient in existence to fill the frame with the
grandest exhibit of love, giving/receiving, fear, and wonderment known to
each. It would be the ultimate partnership if each could endure.
"Are you mute, you ludicrous bovine? Why were you staring at my feet so
intently and what the hell is that foul mess running down your leg?" The
question was so dictatorial and absolute that Dee knees began to quiver as
she attempted a stammering inarticulate and incoherent reply. "I... I... I
ugh... d... d... did... did, unh... not... not mean too... too, butttt...
they... ugh... they are... are so... so... beauti... ahhh, beauti, I mean,
mean unhhh... I am ill. No, no. Not really ill, but, but a condition, well,
I... I, oh, ohhh... I..."
The malevolent eyes pierced her with greater intensity. "What the hell are
you saying, you ludicrous, smelly degenerate?" Dee was so obscured with
intimidation, humiliation and ecstasy that she began leaking anew from her
pussy and her eyes. She began to cry as she attempted another inadequate
reply "I... I... ohhhh, please, I, I... I guess I... I am a stupp... stupid,
sl... sl... slu... slu... Oh God... please... ma'am, sob" Long typical of Dee
when caught up in a very humiliating but erotic situation, her shaking legs
began to prance up and down while standing in place. Her gyrating toes as
usual, splashed and churned the small pool of cunt jism that had dribbled
down her legs.
"DING" Dee was literally saved by the bell. The herd of human sheep tumbled
out, each racing to call Security. Rhea quickly punched the next floor. As
soon as the door closed, she slammed her open hand across Dee's left cheek
with full force. Dee was literally and figuratively staggered. It was a blow
that equalled the hardest she had experienced from her mother years ago. She
slammed into the wall, rebounding with a look of shock, absolute fear and
pain. "You slovenly bitch, I know what's going on here and I am not fucking
amused. When the door opens, get off and follow me. Do not utter one sound.
Not a hum or a squeak. Understand? Speak only when I say SPEAK! Leave the
shoe and move. Now!" Rhea's cold black eyes had taken on an even more ominous
forbearance. Dee was so scared that small spurts of urine began leaking
around the corset strap. Nevertheless, she had learned well from her mother
and simply nodded in the affirmative instead of speaking.
Rhea quickly exited at the next floor. Now stupidly holding just one shoe,
she followed submissively. She exhibited great will power by suppressing an
erotic induced groan at the quickly observed the outsized projection of the
Goddess' breasts in profile. Her stomach knotted in concert with a new
vaginal spasm at the even more exaggerated rear anatomical wonderment of the
resplendent woman. It was an anatomical orchestration that further harmonized
with Dee's grossly enlarged but highly tuned and receptive over active and
spewing Bartholin glands. She was so mutually charged erotically and
fearfully that the piss and cunt juices ran in a constant stream down her
legs.
Unlike Dee's 50+ pounds of wide swaying, flopping, vicious swinging milk
meat, Rhea's huge orbs only bounce and sway several inches in various
directions. They project far beyond the outer outline of her arms and narrow
almost boyish hips. Dee, repetitiously, licks her dry lips at the sight of
the Goddess' almost naked rear torso which is framed by an extreme plunge of
the very tight beige colored dress. The pixie cut black hair allows a full
view of the strong perfectly toned shoulders. Their muscles ripple slightly
as she strides confidently and with purpose down the hall towards the Rest
Room. The completely exposed waist is so tiny as to be almost nonexistent. It
seems almost impossible that such a small framed foundation of flesh and bone
could support the huge, jiggling hemispheres above.
So low is the back of the dress that the upper half-inch of the tightly
bunched ass crease is exposed. Whereas Dee's monumental 45-inch ass bumps,
grinds and heaves about in several directions at once, the Goddess' ass seems
to only clench and vibrate when she moves. Dee can barely stand it. She feels
an imminent orgasm approaching and knows she will be unable to supress it
under these circumstances.
They enter the restroom. It is large and empty at the moment. A full-length
mirror gleams from across the room. Rhea whirls in a very fluid graceful
manner. Her breasts vibrate. In a most direct and seething tone she speaks.
"I will not waste words with you. You will look directly in my eyes at every
moment. Now, what is your name and what is your business here? Answer me
clearly and with brevity bitch. Speak!" "I... I... am... am..." "STOP!"
commands Rhea. You have one last chance to get it right or I will leave
immediately. Speak! Dee's cunt churned as she took a deep breath, blinked her
eyes, absorbed the new and correct inducement to be articulates and spoke.
"I am Deanna Winston and... and I am here to see Doctor Marsha Kline." "I am
not surprised," retorted Rhea, Doctor Kline is a world-renowned
endocrinologist and it indeed seems you have a severe hormone problem.
However, regardless of that, you also have a control problem. You are an
unrelenting pain slut and foot fetish. Correct? Speak!" "Yes ma'am, I love a
shapely foot on a woman, especially long angular feet with long curly toes
like mine and especially yours. They are so lovely and so sexy... And yes
ma'am, I dream of the most horrible ways to be tortured and used by my dream
Mistress. But, no ma'am, and please forgive me. I am not a slut. I contribute
to society and love most of the people I know. I do volunteer work and have a
very firm spiritual responsibility. I love my body, always have, but this
last six months have been hell. My hormone problem started up again after six
years of remission. My breast and genitals and libido are now growing out of
control. I can hardly think of anything except pain, humiliation and sex of
the most depraved kind. My vagina and vulva almost constantly leak and I have
even started lactating. I must stop it. I do not feel guilty about my
preferences or freaky appearance but it has to cease or I will spend all my
time masturbating and torturing myself. More importantly, My work is
beginning to suffer. I need to have a semblance of a normal life. People need
me and I need them. And..." "STOP!" CRACK!! Dee staggered back three steps in
response to a slap to the face. SMACK, she hit the wall after the second blow
landed in the same place. Her cunt drooled even faster around the painful
cinch of the corset strap.
"The first was for the unsolicited dissertation. I said be brief. The second
was for having the utter gall to dispute that you are a slut. Not only are
you a cunt spurting slut, you are a stupid, self-deceiving, hypocritical
slut; a trollop and demi-rep". Dee began to quiver at the possible true
assessment. "Go to the mirror and look at yourself, Miss
I-am-somebody-special-Deanna-Winston."
Dee, gazed and emitted a small howl. She immediately turned sunburned
crimson. She was a total wreck. Her hair was mussed and her face was a
variegated pattern of runny and congealed eye shadow, rouge, foundation and
lipstick. Her skirt was totally soaked front to back with piss and cunt
slime. Her right tit was completely exposed with a long thick dribble of
lactate hanging off her long, thick nipple. The areola was puffed to its
maximum seven-inch width and five-inch thickness. The unfilled bra cup hung
down to her knees. Her bare feet and legs were coated in a mixture of wet and
congealed pussy juice. Her large tote bag which was filled with some of her
special toys - she began carrying them with her several months ago - hung
heavily across her shoulders in a skewed fashion. There she was, nothing less
than a huge titted, slutty clown with a single broken shoe in her hands.
"No self respecting woman, not even the most confirmed wanton masochist and
slave, would let themselves look as you do unless they actually wanted it to
happen." Dee began crying in choking intermittent moans and pitiful sobs.
"You are the epitome of self-deception, self-indulgence and ignorant denial.
No, you are a slut my cunt for brains whore. A slut who prides herself with
having control simply because she does not cum as often as possible. However,
one thing is raging in your physical and psychological being as true. You
want me so bad that it exceeds even a need. It is an unequivocal must. You
wish to be owned by me; to serve me in your most hardcore, depraved fantasy.
Stand straight with your hands to your side and make not a single sound."
CRACK, WHAM, SLAP. Dee Staggered backwards at the three blows to the face.
She sobbed louder. "You liked that didn't you Deanna?" CRUNCH! POW! THUD,
SLAM! Despite the admonition not to make any sound, Dee screeched violently
to the four powerful blows to her exposed tit. The tears carried the makeup
to the tops of her bruising tit. The pain was horrible. The Goddess was a
very strong woman - as strong as Dee. "That was more like it, correct?" Dee's
eyes were imploring. The orgasm was fast approaching. Whap! Whap! Crunch,
Slam! Thud! Thunk! Six more assaulted her tit. Rhea's hand actually entered
past the wrist on the last blow, collapsing and realigning over 15 pounds of
globular tissue in the process. Dee sagged, while saliva drooled from her
other lips. "Good news Deanna, I love to torture beautiful, intelligent,
honest sluts. I am the best. I am ruthless. I do things that you can never
imagine. I am a most heinous and imaginative personage. I can and am
currently modifying and tormenting the minds and bodies of three women in a
fashion that would cause you to flee my presence if you knew the details. One
has no vocal cords left. They beg to be killed hundreds of time a day Deanna.
They are strong, enduring and honest. None would leave given the opportunity.
They are there because they wish to be. More importantly, they qualified for
the honor. They earned it. They were special to began with and suffered
horribly to complete the prerequisites just to be allowed to crawl on their
bleeding bellies into my house of horror. You my dear are not special;
neither by virtue of your tits - there are bigger at the mansion - or your
honesty. Christ, look at the amount of cunt glue running down your legs. You
could prevent that if you wished. Fuck you, you filthy, stinking excuse of a
triple X-chromosomed pain slut." At that, she punched Dee in the diaphragm so
violently that Dee staggered back several feet before crashing to the floor
in a gasping heap.
Dee was wailing in pain but mostly despair. "Can't keep quiet can you slime
bucket? Doctor Kline's office is eleven floors up. Take the stairs and get
the hell out of my sight." Dee was desperate. She could not lose her Goddess.
She did the only thing she could and shuffled to Rhea on abraded knees
imploring with hot red eyes not to be cast away. It was a silent plea that
would have melted the resolve of a champion sadist. Not so Rhea Bouviour. She
slapped Dee away, cutting her lip in the process. Then, to Dee's total
dismay, she pulled Dee's head back violently with a fist full of matted hair
and kissed her full on the lips. She held the kiss. It was unlike any Deanna
had received in her quarter century of existence. It waxed and waned between
powerful, demanding and absorbing to unmitigated giving, tender sincerity and
gut wrenching eroticism. Dee was totally overpowered physically and
emotionally. The suppressed orgasm consummated itself throughout her body
immediately. Her juices gushed, as she stood in paralyzed rigidity. It
diffused itself for over half a minute. The expression on her face was pure
fulfillment and horrifying despair.
Still holding Dee's head back and with her heaving bosom resting partially
on Dee's shoulder, Rhea whispered to Dee in a voice that was both despotic
and encouraging. "Do what you must Deanna Winston. Mise en place (get your
shit together). Now go to Dr Kline's before the security shits find you. Go
immediately"
The previous malevolent expression had evolved into one of firm resolve but
also understanding. Dee was confused. In abject oppression of spirit, she
prostrated herself on the cold tile floor at her Goddesse's feet and with her
hands on Rhea's slim ankles, begged, pleaded and implored in fitful hope that
she would not be discarded. "Please Mistress, please do not leave my life. I
will die if you do. I have dreamed about you for so many years. Oh God! Oh!
Oh! I need you so much. I have no one to serve as truly as I am capable. I
have turned down so many, hoping that my true Goddess would find me and let
me serve. She is you... so beautiful and strong. I love you. I will be
nothing without you now. Please let me be a part of your life. A day a week,
an hour. Anything! I will do anything. Pleaseeee! I will happily serve as
your slave in waiting, to be beaten as often as pleases you. I will stuff my
rabid cunt with pounds of chili peppers, and sew it up until it becomes a
festering mess (Dee was desperately conjuring up past episodes with Annie) I,
I, I will be your toilet slave. You will never need a real toilet again. I
will drink your piss, and, and... e... e... eat, eat every mor... mor morsel
of your sh... sh... shit. Gasp! Oh God no, ugh... maybe. no I... I... I wi...
will. Yes! I will, ugghh. I will even tongue bath you lovingly during your
periods. Burn me with hot coals and pierce me with pins and skewers. Chain me
and shove huge tearing objects up my horrid hole. Make me suffer untold days
of screaming sexual denial. Do all that you wish with me, but please let me
serve? I am strong and committed. I will be your most loyal subject. I can
endure and will prove to be more worthy than any who you possess.
Merciful Goddess, please own me. Test me. Give me a chance. Do not forsake
me. I will give all that I have in this physical world and empty myself of
all else that you require. Help me Mistress. Sweet Jesus, do not leave me."
Dee's wretched lamentations were punctuated with heaving moans and sobs. She
had a death grip on Rhea's ankles. Her pleas had dissolved into constant
crying, accentuated with soft begging repetitions of "please, please."
"Let go Deanna Winston and do as I told you. Get out of my sight. Not
another word. Do it!"
Dee's loud sad sobbing resounded off the walls as she shuffled out the door
and down the hall. She was still holding the shoe. Her massive tits swung
wildly. After entering the stairwell and climbing the first of the 11
flights, she collapsed in a heap of abject despair, dejection and depressed
agony. A long plaintive "Nooooooooooooooo!" echoed throughout the stairwell
as her world imploded into a microcosm of minimal real functionality.
Because of her real inner and empirical strength, she - with utmost supreme
effort - began crawling up the stairs on hands and knees. Her tit bruised
itself as it bounced off each concrete step. Slowly she rose to her feet. A
slight fleeting scintillation of determination beckoned from her glistening
hazel eyes. Though she had lost her Goddess forever, she would still serve
her honorably by doing as was ordered. She would go to Doctor Kline's. She
would obey her Goddesses' one and only command implicitly. She began the long
walk up the stairs in earnest, still holding her shoe, listening to the loud
slaps, and wallops of her loose tit as it pummeled itself against her sweat
drenched torso. Droplets of lactate painted the walls. She smiled faintly in
the pleasure of having at least spent a few minutes with her worldly Deity.
Now she would attend to the matter of her rebellious endocrine glands. "At
least I have absolute control of deciding to do something about that" she
mused. Poor Dee, she was soon to receive an even greater shock that day.
While climbing the stairs Dee realized that her Goddess was correct in her
summation that Dee was a slovenly, self-absorbed, exhibitionist bitch. She
immediately resolved to improve her propensity to exhibit herself as the
victim of her "condition" by stuffing her tit as best she could into the
sagging bra cup. It hung lower than her left tit but at least it all of the
huge areola and some of the tit flesh were covered. She combed her hair with
her fingers and ran the tips of her fingers around the rims of her eyes and
mouth in an attempt to clean up her face. She patted away the grandma beads
(dirt/sweat necklace) from around her neck and the smeared lipstick with the
hem of her blouse. It was an almost futile effort. She still resembled a
back-alley Turkish whore who had not been allowed out of her crib for a week.
Holding the ruined shoe and the front of her saturated blouse as best she
could, she took a deep breath and entered the corridor. If one could lift
their gaze beyond the ridiculous movements of the torso that quickly passed
by, they would note a small but very evident sly smile on the seemingly
beautiful but clown-like made up face. Though of genius intellect, the self
indulgent bimbo persona still reigned triumphantly as Dee's raging autocratic
hormones took greater control of her libido.
Ten minutes later Dee found herself standing at one end of the very crowded
waiting room. She was slightly sobbing at the utter embarrassment of being
loudly and ruthlessly upbraided by the receptionist for 'being 20 minutes
late. She still looked shamefully ridiculous, and now smelled terrible'. She
was ordered to stand and wait at the far end of the room and fill out the
many required forms.
Every chair was occupied. Dee was tired and very thirsty. She had lost a lot
of fluids. It was extremely difficult trying to hold the shoe, keep her
blouse pulled together and write on the clipboard which was held in her left
hand towards the end of her left tit. The shoe fell. She decided to leave it
there temporally but was ordered to pick it up by the haughty receptionist.
She squatted to retrieve it by feel. All eyes (22) scrutinized every nuance
of Dee's sweat lathered anatomy with the intensity of a 5.000 dpi, high-speed
scanner.
One pair did not. They belonged to a hugely pregnant woman who was half
reclined in a very rigid manner in a type of four-wheeled metal chair. Only
her face and hands were undraped by a rubber-like material. Her head was
completely encased in a metal helmet containing a large variety of
protrusions, connectors and receiving holes. It was clamped by a series of
steel bands and rods to the unrelenting, wide, steel headrest. A complicated
series of dental appliances held the mouth open in a wide extreme manner,
leaving the upper and lower gums completely exposed. Her tongue was stretched
out an incredible amount, being held in place by a clamping device at the
tip, which was in turn was retained by two five inch long, 1/4 inch rods that
connected to the jaw expander deep inside the mouth. Both nostrils of the
exposed nose was jammed tightly with cone shaped rods that emanated upward
from the mouth appliance. They had been shoved so far up and tightly that the
nose was crumpled upwards. Several miniature motors were connected at
strategic positions on the complicated head and mouth device. The hands
continuouly clawed and ripped at the terminus of each rounded chair arm.
However, it was the eyes that caused Dee to gasp in astonishment. They were
blood shot and bulging in a most extreme manner, revealing - most
particularly to Dee's experienced eyes - total uncompromising horror and
agony. A constant series of hums, whirring, clacks and soft grinding could be
heard emanating from the enclosed, large rectangular bottom of the chair.
To the waiting patients, including Dee, the most curious and disturbing
thing about this strange suffering, apparently ill woman and her ambulatory
chair, were the intermittent changes in the motorized noises and the
agonizing response of the poor creature in it. As the sounds grew in volume,
intensity and changing pitch the woman's eyes somehow bulged even more,
actually protruding out of her sockets over an inch. The telescoping rods
connected to her mouth and tongue extended in length as the small motors
kicked in. This resulted in a gapping of the mouth that was humanly
impossible. Yet, it was real. Equally unbelievable was the fact that the
tongue stretched at least an additional inch, as if it were made of extremely
pliant rubber instead of mere human skin. What was unseen to the
uncomprehending and revolted but mostly compassionate patients was that the
pair of half-inch wide, four-inch long, metal clamps at the end of the tongue
was connected through the tongue by three sharp studs.
After about half a minute of this, the rubber encased body began shivering.
This evolved into heavy shudders and maxed out into a long series of strong
seizure-like convulsions and spasms. The chair shook and swayed for over a
minute. Muffled gagging and choking sounds spilled out of the gapping mouth.
A series of loud sucking and crackling noises spilled out of the bottom
portion of the box. The spastic lady went rigid with ever more bulging of the
eyes. They somehow bespoke even greater horror and agony. After a total of
several minutes she slumped, with hands still clawing, A large amount of
greenish drool hung out of her mouth to spill over the black rubber sheet.
Had this poor suffering woman been anywhere other than the Doctor's office an
investigation would have ensued concerning who was torturing her and why. The
large, white-dressed female attendant with her, dabbed away the tears that
were spilling profusely from both still horror struck eyes.
Dee felt both compassion and slutty erotic identity.
As the woman seemed to be recovering from what was obviously a grand mall
seizure of some type, Dee refocused her attention to her current situation.
Squatting to sit in a finally, available chair, she was quickly ordered not
to do so. "You will not be permitted to sit an any of the chairs Ms Winston.
How could you be so inconsiderate to even wish to do so? Look at yourself.
You are a filthy mess. Would you sit after someone as nasty and stinky as you
sat there first? No! You will continue to stand until you are called, if you
are called. You have singularly upset our entire scheduling situation. I'm
surprised no one has slapped you by now." Dee dabbed away a small tear of
humiliation and cleared her dry throat. "Ma'am, may I get a quick drink of
water then?" "No you may not Ms Winston," replied the increasingly arrogant
and unpleasant receptionist." We cannot take a chance that you will not be in
the waiting room when you are called. Besides, filling up with water now may
corrupt the tests that have to be made."
Dee nodded meekly with head down. She was again the focus of attention and
both dreaded and loved it. "Yes, " she finally recognized, I am indeed, a
self-indulgent bitch. But Jesus, I am thirsty."