Punishing Rachel, Part Two by subkittehslut

It was not going to be a typical, lazy Saturday morning for Rachel… instead of slowly waking hours past normal, stretching luxuriously, running her hangover-cure bubble bath with the peppermint oil… her body almost jerked awake not long after her weekday time… at least, she felt like she’d barely gotten any sleep. She was right, it was barely after 8 am… her body was tense with pain from all over… her dry, abused throat, her viciously paddled ass, her sore, stiff legs and arms from her ankles and wrists being bound… and of course, a near-blinding headache… the events of the previous night hit her like a ton of bricks, all washing over her at once and making her want to start sobbing all over again as she realized yes, he was still there… and her ordeal wasn’t over. She could hear his quiet, whistling breaths… not quite snores… and then panic hit as she realized she needed to pee so badly that she thought she might burst. Torn between wanting there to be as long as possible before he woke up and renewed his assault on her body and being both disgusted and afraid of the idea of losing control of her bladder right here in the bed, she rocked back and forth uncomfortably for a few long moments before her upbringing outweighed her fear and she rolled as far away from her slumbering attacker as possible, then struggled to yank on the bit of rope attaching them, hoping to wake him gently enough that he’d realize she wasn’t trying to escape. She heard a mumbled sound and felt him pull back as he turned away from her, only disturbed, not woken… tensing every muscle in her thighs and groin to keep from pissing all over herself, she turns harder, pulling back against him, worry about what he might think dissolving in panic. She was pulling as hard as she could, body bowed forward at the pelvis and hanging off the edge, her arms stretched behind her and her ankles still bound tightly to the frame, when he suddenly rolled back over, and she fell off the bed, striking her far shoulder on the hardwood floor painfully and twisting her legs at a funny angle, a little yelp bursting from her lips… and the shock of impact also loosened her iron control… as she half-hung, half lay on the floor, a flood of hot piss squirted out of her cunt, obscenely thrust forward because of her legs being bent back, spraying the floor and forming a rapidly-expanding puddle of the floor… running her direction. She couldn’t see the yellowish finger of liquid running her way, but as it got closer, she could smell the acrid tang and tried without even thinking to pull herself back up onto the bed with the rapist to escape it…

The sudden sharp yank from her fall and her cry had served to wake Josh, and after a moment of disorientation at the strange surroundings and then blind fury that she had pulled the rope, he realized what had happened. He watched,amused, as she pissed herself explosively, and he could see quite clearly that the large puddle of steaming urine was running right toward her pretty, still blindfolded face that was half-smashed against the floor. “Morning, sunshine…” he rasped, untying the rope from his wrist so that the rest of her upper body sank to the floor with a thump “looks like someone had an accident… good thing you didn’t piss the bed; I would have beaten the living hell out of you for that.”Rachel’s heart sinks and then begins to thump hard in combined fear and humiliation… wondering what she must look like, hanging from the bed by her ankles, turned awkwardly on the floor, pee still trickling from between her legs and running up over her hip before splattering to the floor… and the puddle was now soaking into her hair, she could feel it… her already-nauseous stomach heaves uncomfortably in disgust, but she bites it back bitterly… laying in a puddle of her own vomit AND piss would be worse.

Still sitting up on the bed, observing, Josh comes to a decision about how to handle the situation. Leaning down to the end of the bed, he releases her ankles so that her legs thud to the floor as well… Rachel immediately begins trying to wiggle away from her own mess, splashing in it and suceeding more in getting herself more thoroughly covered… he could have laughed out loud if he wasn’t afraid he wouldn’t be able to disguise it. “You are a filthy fucking slut right now, you know that? You smell like alcohol, cum, and piss. That’s disgusting. And what’s worse is you made a mess on the floor… I think you should clean it up. Right now.”

Rachel feels tears pricking at her eyes again at his words, her embarassment huge and burning in her chest, making it impossible to speak. Working against her stiff, cramped muscles, she tries to sit up, managing to pull herself half-up on her knees… then realizes that with her hands behind her back, she can’t even feel for something to wipe up the puddle… in desperation she whines “But how? My hands… I can’t…” was all she managed to get out before her face was rocked back on her neck by a stinging backhand.

“Did I tell you to talk, whore? No… I told you to clean up after yourself, since apparently you’re not toilet trained… I may have to start calling you ‘pig’ instead.” He pauses, letting out another one of those sinister chuckles. “Yes, pig… my dirty little pig slut. You apparently aren’t good for anything more than that… too dumb to even figure out how to clean up a puddle without your hands… let me show you…” with those words, he grabs hold of the side of her head and slams the other side to the floor, then starts swishing her head back and forth like a mop. “That’s how you do it, piggy. Your hair is fucking gross now… in fact, you’re pretty much disgusting from head to foot.”

Rachel sees stars and groans in pain when he smacks her head against the floor, the hangover pain doubling and tripling, seeming to make her eyes bulge against the dirty, now-damp-again stocking… fighting again the urge to throw up as he wipes up her piss with her hair, back and forth… she’s so appreciative when the sickening motion stops she barely registers his scathing comments about her filthiness. She looks toward the sound as she realizes he’s demanding a response…

“Do you hear me, bitch? Answer before I knock your fucking teeth out… do you understand that after I untie your feet, if you try to kick or run or resist in any way, I will kill you? I won’t even hesitate.”

Rachel shakes her head slowly, trying not to make her pain any worse “I won’t” she croaks, mouth and throat still parched. “I swear I won’t, please don’t kill me…”

Josh smiles a hard, triumphant smile that she can’t see and makes short work of releasing her ankles, yanking her to her feet by her bound wrists and giving her a moment to get her legs working again. Once she seems more or less steady on her feet, he instructs curtly “You need a shower, slut… you fucking stink. I am going to take you in your bathroom and wash you off… I’m taking my knife with me. If you give me the slightest trouble I will cut you every time you do… until I get tired of it and just slit your stupid whore throat.”

Rachel nods and stands still, head hung down low. Her filthy, cum and piss-soaked hair hangs in clumps all around her face and shoulders, halfway down her bowed back. She hears a rustle of paper and feels him tug her around the foot of the bed and to her small bathroom. The tile is freezing cold under her feet, and she shivers involuntarily, feeling her nipples harden and hoping he won’t notice.

Josh sets the paper bag of things he’d brought from his house on the smooth grey marble of her sinktop and rummages in it briefly with his free hand before pulling out a long, thin rubber hose with a larger, rubber bulb on the end. The other end of the hose was cut off where the old-style showerhead he had at home used to be… in his rush of furious packing the night before, it had occured to him that could be used for something else… he set it on the side of the tub, then guided the shaking, filthy girl into it. Letting go of her hands but still leaving them bound, he tells her to turn around and face him… and as soon as she does, lets loose a stream of his own piss, hitting her in the middle of her chest, the yellow liquid splashing off her breasts and running down her stomach, through the tiny patch of black pubes… he watches, fascinated. It never occured to him to do that before, and the surge of power it gives him makes him feel a little lightheaded.

As she turns uncertainly to face him, still blind and half-bound, she could have prepared herself for almost anything but -that-… when she felt the hot stream hit her chest, she felt like crying and curling up in a little ball in the bottom of the tub… the only thing that stopped her was the thought that he’d then be pissing on her head. Her shoulders shake with smothered sobs as the stream grows weaker… lower… and finally stops altogether.

Shaking the last couple of drops into the tub, he stands back and surveys his handiwork. Nothing could have been further from the poised, self-confident girl he saw at work than the sobbing, shivering, filthy wreck in front of him… and with his morning urge to pee taken care of, his cock begins to harden as he thinks that he did this to her. She was completely under his control… and the day had barely begun. Reaching into the tub, he twists knobs until he finds a suitable temperature… too hot to be soothing but not hot enough to burn. Flicking the switch to shower, he grabs the detachable head from it’s mount and begins to spray her off, hearing whimpers at the heat but no other protest.