Beggar Abducted and then drinks Dominatrix Piss! - Part 2
The sweetheart paused for a moment, taking a step back to admire her handiwork. The beggar, now wet from head to toe, stood before her trembling in fear. She approached him once more, her expression hardened as she realized there was more he needed to endure.
"Open your mouth," she commanded.
With tears in his eyes, the beggar obeyed. She lowered herself over him, positioning her sex just above his gaping mouth. A slow stream of urine began to trickle down, landing on his tongue and filling his mouth. The taste was foul and metallic, like he had never experienced before. But he couldn't resist; he had to please her or face the consequences of his defiance.
As she emptied her bladder into his mouth, the beggar gagged on the powerful flow of amber liquid. Finally, she pulled away, leaving him retching on the dirty ground. A sense of relief washed over him briefly, until she spoke again.
"Now, eat my pussy."
Trembling, the beggar complied. He reached up and placed his mouth over her sex, lips up against her labia majora. He could feel her warmth and wetness against his skin, along with the faint scent of sweat and excitement. He moved his tongue, tasting her juices as he lapped at her folds.
"That's it," she moaned, her hips buckling with pleasure. "Eat me out, you filthy little beggar."
Her words stung him, but he couldn't help but oblige. He pushed his face deeper into her cleft, feeling the soft hairs tickle his nose as he probed further. His tongue darted in and out, exploring every inch of her womanhood. She was salty and musky, with a hint of sweetness that made him shudder.
As he moved his lips over her sensitive flesh, the beggar felt a hand at his back. He turned to see the sweetheart, her expression cold and unyielding. She pushed him down onto his knees, forcing him to look up at her.
"Now," she said, her voice low and menacing, "eat my ass."
The beggar's eyes widened in terror. He had done unspeakable things, but this was a line he hadn't crossed. But as he hesitated, the sweetheart slapped him hard across the face.
"Do it," she growled, "or I'll make you wish you'd never been born."
With tears in his eyes, the beggar reached back. He tentatively touched her buttocks, feeling the smoothness of her skin. He moved his hand lower, feeling the warmth emanating from her backdoor.
"Yes," she hissed, "lick my asshole. Show me how much you love it."
And so he did. He closed his eyes, taking in the sweet yet acrid smell of her ass. He opened his mouth, feeling the heat from her body against his tongue. He lapped at her tight little hole, tasting her musk and the faint hint of sweat.
As he worked his tongue against her sensitive flesh, the sweetheart began to moan. She bent forward, giving him better access to her rear. Her hips rocked back and forth, urging him on.
Finally, she pulled away. The beggar looked up at her, fear etched across his face. She smiled, a cruel twist of her lips.
"That's enough for today," she said. "But remember, you're mine now. And I'll use you however I please."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving the beggar trembling in the dirt. He looked up at the towering structure above him, feeling a sense of dread wash over him. He knew he had crossed a line he couldn't uncross, and that from now on, his life belonged to the Dominatrix who had claimed him as her own.
