Part 10: Welcome to Slavery

There are no words to describe how unbearable Dominique's reading was. No words can adequately describe the torture. The sheer brutality of it. It's far worse than you can imagine. When she was finally finished, my scalp was left so raw and tender that I could only rest it on my chin without nauseating pain. Her thick black brillo pad of pubic hair transformed my face into stingy irritated mess.

It was no walk in the park for her either. As soon as she stepped off my face, Dominique hurried to the bath and turned the water on full-blast. She seemed uncomfortable and anxious to clean herself ... as if my face had somehow contaminated her. She wiped between her legs vigerously with a towel as she waited for the tub to fill. Her bum was red.

I had little sympathy though for her sore bum, which would soon be soothed in a warm bubbly bath. No such relief would be in my future. Not ever again. There was a quiet tension between us. A growing feeling of mutual resentment. I could tell from her sharp glances that she was in no mood to hear a peep out of me. She'd grown tired of listening to my whimpers and sobs.

Her pungent odor clung stubbornly to my face. I could smell her just as strong as I had when she was on top of me. For some irrational reason, I imagined her smelling somehow different ... As if her goddess-like appearance, would somehow make the smell unique and less revolting. It smelt the same as any pussy I'd ever smelt, that unsavory fishy pussy stink. And the smell of her ass was just as common and unsavory. It smelt like ass.

Despite her warnings, and coming here on my own free will, I somehow felt tricked. Like this wasn't really what I thought it would be, despite it being exactly what I understood it would be. Her stink, still freshly smeared over my face, attacked my nostrils in nasty whiffs of truth ... forcing my unwilling mind to finally see that Dominique was human after all.

She was standing over me now, continuing to rub the towel into her crotch. Expecting her to say something, I tilted my head back, careful not to touch the hatch with my bruised scalp. Instead, she draped the towel over my face and walked away. She wanted privacy. All it took was a bath towel to forget my insignificant presence in this godforsaken place. Now I could suffer alone without burdening her.

She let out a purposely audible moan of pure ecstasy as she dipped herself slowly into the hot bath. Its soothing warmth and aromas shielded her from this place. It allowed her mind to drift someplace safe and warm. Someplace far away.

My mind would get no such vacation. This cold piss that I was kneeling uncomfortably in, this pain, this stink, this anticipation, all these things were keeping me firmly chained here in the moment. On top of all that, I was beginning to feel the urge to pee. The bucket on my lap would be awkward to use and certainly wouldn't be quiet ... I'd have to hold it until Dominique was gone.

When Dominique finally emerged from the tub and toweled off, I imagined Alex cowering over a computer someplace comfortable, enjoying the view, zooming in and out excitedly as she toweled herself off. That goddamn pervert.