Sir throws me through the door of the public restroom at the train station so hard I almost stumble to the floor.

“Take off your clothes and get on your knees, slut,” Sir orders as he turns to lock the door.

The public restroom reeks of urine and mildew. Something else also lingers in the air, something fermented and foul: the subtle rot of backed up sewage. The walls are filthy and streaked with brown stains. There’s obscene graffiti everywhere. It’s dim but not dark as a single flickering fluorescent light illuminates a filthy toilet and a discolored urinal. The urinal is large and floor-mounted, the basin embedded right into the tile itself, the back-bowl extending up the wall. There’s a broken flush-handle at the top, the silver rod dangling loose and useless in its socket. The cracked tile floor is sticky, littered with soggy toilet paper and mystery stains. An overflowing trashcan and a grimy sink complete the miserable little restroom.

I silently remove the slutty black dress and hooker heels Sir dressed me in for dinner before sinking to my knees. I can feel the filth instantly. I’m so hyperaware of how all the mystery goo on the floor is now soiling the naked skin of my shins and feet.

I’m naked and kneeling on a filthy bathroom floor. My cheeks burn with shame, the hot swollen feeling seeping down my spine and into my cunt...

“Open,” Sir orders as he unbuttons his pants and takes out his large veiny cock.

My jaw opens and Sir wordlessly fills my mouth. He’s not subtle or gentle. He shoves his dripping mushroom tip straight to the back of my throat; making me gag.

“Palms flat to the floor, cunt. Keep them there.”

I press my hands into the tiles, and I swear I can feel every individual particle of garbage-juice that touches me: the caked dirt by my right pinky, something sticky at the top of my palm, something wet beneath my thumb. The revolting scent of the bathroom clings to my nose, mixing with the musk of Master’s cock. The odors come together like a manifestation of my sluttiness: I’m a disgusting little whore who’s happy to kneel in filthy public bathrooms to choke on cock.

The drag of humiliation is profound across my skin. Like a drag of sandpaper: burning, stinging, and raw. My indignity is almost painful to bear.

And yet it’s the only thing that makes me feel alive...

“What a disgusting animal,” Sir sneers, violently gagging me with his massive cock. “Kneeling in piss and shit just to suck me off.” He made ‘tsking’ noises with his tongue against his teeth. “Just disgusting.”

He spits down at me, his saliva landing right in the crease of my nose before slipping down my cheek in a white viscous blob.

I strangle a desperate sob. His abuse feeds my cunt, engorging it with shame and lust. My hips begin to roll until I’m shamelessly humping the grimy bathroom floor, trying to catch my clit against the tile or whatever filth I can find.

“Oh, you nasty little bitch,” Sir grins as he watches my hips move, my retching and gagging around his cock serving as the perfect soundtrack to my pathetic display. “Pinch your nipples, slut. With just your thumb and index fingers. Keep grinding your filthy cunt into the floor.”

I obey, pinching each of my hard nipples as directed. The grime from the floor that coats my hands is now transferring onto my tits. I moan needfully and contemplate what I must look like: rubbing my cunt into the dirty floor, choking on cock in a public restroom, using my filthy hands to pinch my nipples in such a cartoonish way it would even make the hottest porn star look like a fool.

Sir takes out his phone and begins recording, laughing breathlessly as he captures my shame from every angle. “Do you want me to fuck your ass now, little slut? huh?” He mocks with the camera pointed directly at me. “You want me to fuck your nasty little ass in the middle of this filthy fucking restroom until I fill it with my cum?”

I look straight into the camera and nod enthusiastically around Sir’s cock, gagging and moaning so pitifully with drool pouring down my chin; my sad little pussy still grinding away into the dirty floor; my fingers still poised in shame on my nipples.

“That’s right, you do,” Sir interprets, running a hand through my hair with a touch that feels hauntingly tender. “Now be a good little toilet-whore and crawl over to the urinal—that’s right, slut—good little bitch—now put your face right in there and stick your ass in the air—good cunt.”

The urinal exudes a rancid perfume of dry stale piss and ammonia. Its an overly toxic, fermented reek that seems to seep into every one of my pores, infecting me with it’s rank odor and sour energy.

“Yeah you like that don’t you, you pathetic piece of trash?” Sir asks as he comes up behind me and uses a single hand to press my face even deeper into the urinal, until my jaw and cheek are touching the porcelain. He begins moving my head around, as if wiping it clean with my face. “Stick your tongue out, bitch, and keep it out—that’s right—lick it up, baby. Lick it clean.”

Master continues rubbing my face over every inch of the urinal basin, using his grip on the back of my neck to guide me about. My tongue is obediently sticking out, waggling all around, desperately trying to lap up any bit of piss it can find. Even when Sir’s grip leaves my neck I continue to worship the urinal: breathing in it’s toxic fumes, licking up the piss stains and savoring the bitter tang, rubbing my face across the cold porcelain. And all the while I’m kneeling in filth, my ass in the air, silently begging to be fucked.

I can hear Sir shifting behind me as I’m licking away, moaning in earnest as he uses his fingers to coat my asshole in a varnish of his own saliva. My hips twitch backward when I feel his tip finally breech my puckered hole, the sharp strict pressure making me gasp into the urinal with a fresh moan.