In the dimly lit dungeon, Mistress Raven stood over her latest pet, a young man dressed in nothing but a diaper and a collar around his neck. She held a glass jar in one hand, the other firmly gripping his tiny penis through the cloth barrier of his diaper.
Without a word, she pulled back on his member, forcing urine to flow steadily into the jar. His face contorted in pain and embarrassment as he began to leak involuntarily onto the cold concrete floor. A warm rush of relief filled him as the pressure eased, and his bladder emptied into the container being held by his Mistress.
As the last drops fell into the jar, Mistress Raven released his penis, allowing it to flop back against his body. She placed the full jar on a nearby shelf, her eyes never leaving her helpless submissive.
He knew not to speak unless given permission, so he simply stood there, wetting himself once more as he waited for his next instruction. He heard the clink of chains and movement around him, but dared not look up until she addressed him directly.
"Good boy," she said finally, her voice filled with dark desire. "Now, open wide."
His heart sank as he realized what was coming next. Slowly, he parted his lips, exposing his mouth as she stepped closer. He tasted the metallic taste of his own urine mixed with the salty residue of her previous commands.
"Swallow it all," she ordered, then pushed her fingers deep into his throat, forcing him to take in more of the foul cocktail. He gagged and coughed, but didn't resist as his trainer had conditioned him not to fight against her commands.
As he regained his composure, Mistress Raven began her next round of torment. She grabbed a small funnel and forcefully inserted it into his open mouth. His head tilted back as he felt warm, stinging liquid trickle down his throat once more. It burned like fire as it went down, but he couldn't stop himself from swallowing even as tears streamed down his face.
After what felt like an eternity, she pulled the funnel out of his mouth and stepped back, surveying her handiwork. He stood there panting heavily, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath between sobs.
Mistress Raven surveyed him slowly, taking in the sight of his pathetic figure. She reached down and stroked his chin gently, the gesture belying the cruelty of their interaction.
"You're such a good little shitter," she whispered softly, her breath hot against his skin. "Let's see how much more you can hold."
Without further explanation, she picked up the jar and walked away, leaving him there to wonder what fate had in store for him next.
