Chapter 4

Evan pushed through the curtain just as Mantessa was entering a stall. He went into the stall adjacent to hers. Bathrooms were co-ed at The Foundation each object toilet separated by a plastic divider like a typical stall. He could hear faint whimpers coming from the next stall, was she crying, was it that bad between them? He figured he might as well piss while he waited. It was best to give Mantessa some time to collect herself.

Naturally, The Foundation toilets were of a special design. An object slave was bound in a position like the slaves bound for the female members on the stage. Their mouths pointing upward, held open with a ring gag and at the perfect height for a man to piss in. The women would have to straddle the slave, but the process worked either way. Slaves were usually used for toilets as a punishment for some transgression. This one was for pissing, but they had facilities for shitting as well. He shuddered to think what those slaves had done to be used for that purpose.

He relieved himself in the slave’s mouth. Her brow furrowing and nostrils flaring as his piss bounced off her face and she struggled to swallow before she choked. God, he almost couldn’t finish as his cock began to stiffen at the image. Stay focused, he had a job to do and it sounded like Mantessa was finishing up.

He zipped up and met her at the sink. “Hello, is everything ok,” he said, gently.

Mantessa was the physical opposite of Viperella. She was about five feet tall, had a pair of tiny tits and a narrow curve less figure. She had short, dyed red hair, and if you looked at her in regular street clothes you might mistake her for a boy. Despite her boyish figure her Foundation outfit was no less revealing than any of the other women. She wore a garment made up almost entirely of leather straps. They wrapped around the girl’s lithe bony form, crisscrossing her back and chest with two small triangles of leather covering each nipple. The straps then connected to a belt and another tiny triangle hung down in front barely covering her pussy. The triangle narrowed into a string and disappeared between her ass cheeks and connected to the belt in the rear. He had to admit she did have a tight little cute ass to make up for some of what she lacked.

Mantessa took a long time to answer but eventually turned to look up at him while drying her hands on a towel. “It’s nothing really, Viperella just gets this way when she competes in the contest.”

“You mean there is a time when she isn’t so bitchy,” he said, giving her a soft smile. His mask did not cover his mouth by design.

Mantessa laughed, “Well, she used to be nicer. When we first met, she was sweet to me at least.”

Even under the face paint he could see that Mantessa had a round face with soft attractive features. If one did not mind small tits, and a frail frame, she was cute. “What happened that sent you in here crying?”

“Oh, she didn’t like that I tried to speak out of turn. You know before when you spoke to me.”

“It was my fault then, I’m sorry.”

“No, it wasn’t. She wasn’t always this strict with me.”

It was now, or never, he thought, “You know, she treats you like a common object slave. You are a free woman she has to respect you as such.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” she said, quickly and turned away from him. She crossed one arm over her chest and dropped her gaze to the floor. Her back to him, he could see clear signs of old bruising. Several days, or maybe weeks old, but they must have been severe when they were new. Still, it was hard to know if they were the result of consensual rough play or actual abuse.

“Only you can know for sure. But, if you need help, now would be your best chance, while surrounded by friends.” He punctuated his words by gently placing a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t want to push too hard and drive her away he also did not have a lot of time.

“I appreciate that. But it’s fine, really, we will work things out we always do. I better get back to her before she asks too many questions.” She scampered away before he could say anything else. He would just have to hope the seed was planted and he might make use of her later. Next, he had to consider what his own scene will be. He headed toward the stage to clear his head and his balls.