So, a kind and pervy Redditor wanted me to write about how I became a piss-drinking slut. So you know who you are, and this is for you.

I wasn’t always into pee play. In fact, until this year, I’d only had some brushes with it, all with my Master. Back in high school, he peed on my chest a couple times in the shower and that was about it. Once I moved to college, however, many things escalated. One time involved him pissing in my ass. That was an intense and quite warm enema, but be aware that if you haven’t fully cleaned yourself, there will be some messiness. He had also pissed on my head and poured urine on me. I had tasted pee a bit before. Not trying to drink it, just simply not hesitating to suck him after he had urinated. With a minimal amount of saliva, you do not really notice it after a second or two.

But the first time I opened myself up to this new level of play, came out of two very unrelated kinks. Heavy BDSM and being a little. Something new once I was at college was that for the first time, he could leave marks beyond a little red skin. Of course, a side effect of this was suddenly having to make excuses for bruises, use makeup to cover them up, or use clothing to hide them. See, most of the girls on my floor at the dorm knew I was seeing a significantly older man. They didn’t know I hadn’t met him at college but back in high school. Though back then, we were not in a formal relationship but a more complicated fuck buddy relationship. Despite many protests, I was assumed to be a sugar baby to his sugar daddy. I wasn’t and I am not, but few believed me. However, thanks to the marks, I had to break down and explain to my roommate that he was into spanking and BDSM (all true). I gave her the “50 Shades of Gray” talk – yes, that shit is wrong and cancer, but it’s easy to point to as a reference point when you don’t want to go too much into detail about things.

Jack, my Master and boyfriend, had a nice little softened leather strap. It was about two inches wide, with an effective length of about 6 inches (IE, not counting where he held it) that he had been introducing to my body parts. He had on different occasions left welts and bruised body parts, once on my ass and the other on my tits (pre-piercing). Both experiences were intense, pain-filled (luckily, I’m a masochist), and left me wet and wanting. I also dropped like a motherfucker after those sessions and needed a lot of aftercare which Jack happily provided. Indeed, he not only provided, but he started switching me to little space right after, and fuck, did I take to that like a fish and water. Previously, just dressing little made me a bit uncomfortable but I did it because it made him happy. In this combination, fuck, I dove in deep. It just felt right, and I clung hard to my Daddy afterward.

Anyway, earlier this year, I was down at his house for the weekend. While at college, I would talk to him by phone, but the only real time I got to see him was when he would pick me up (how the ladies at college knew about him) and I’d spend the weekend with him. Well, one Saturday, he decided to escalate the BDSM session. Now, we have our safe words, simple ones (as well as motions if needed) that were just Yellow and Red. Yellow meant to ease up, and Red meant full stop. Not as fancy as “in scene” words, but you don’t get them confused or forget them either. I was cuffed and had a spreader bar on my legs, and by god, my Master kissed just about every inch of my skin with that strap. Not as hard and focused on one area as the previous times that had left me bruised, but everywhere. My back, my shoulder blades, my ass, my sides, my legs, my hands (tops and palms), and my feet. I fucking cannot handle that – prolonged feet strapping will make me sob and scream Yellow and Red in no time at all. My cunt, my belly, and just about everywhere but my face were hit.