Chapter 16: Magical Girl Degradation
The residual scent of expensive coffee felt like a taunt in Evelyn’s nostrils as Dominique steered her into the cavernous playroom. The café humiliation – the public orgasm, the spilled coffee she’d been forced to lap up like a chastened dog – was a fresh, raw bruise on her psyche. Now, this. The air here was thick, damp, saturated with the sharp tang of chlorine and the muffled roar of a recirculating waterfall feature hidden behind a faux-rock wall. Nautical flags hung limp from the high ceiling beams, and a large, backlit map of the ocean dominated one wall, casting an eerie blue glow. Dominating the center, gleaming under recessed spotlights, was a massive stainless steel tub, empty but radiating a cold, intimidating promise.
Evelyn stumbled, the stiff fabric of the ridiculous Sailor Moon costume – a skintight blue minidress, white sailor collar, and a long, synthetic pink wig – chafing her skin. Dominique had presented it with a predatory grin moments after returning to the studio. "Appropriate attire for your baptism, pet," she’d purred, her fingers already working the tiny buttons at the back. Now, Evelyn felt absurd, exposed, the childish innocence of the costume a grotesque counterpoint to the room’s heavy sensuality and the pulsing ache between her legs.
"Stop dawdling," Dominique commanded, her voice echoing slightly in the large space. She wore only sleek black vinyl leggings and a harness, her short hair tousled, her gaze sharp. She propelled Evelyn towards a structure shaped like a stylized crescent moon, padded in white leather. Mounted dead center on the curve was a thick, veined dildo, easily ten inches long and glistening wetly under the lights. Its size made Evelyn’s breath catch.
Dominique shoved her backwards. Evelyn’s hips slammed against the cold curve of the moon chair, the hard ridge of the dildo pressing against her ass through the thin fabric of the costume. Before she could gasp, Dominique’s hand fisted violently in the pink wig and yanked backwards. Pain lanced through Evelyn’s scalp as her head was forced up, her back arching sharply over the padded curve, thrusting her chest out and grinding her pelvis harder against the massive toy.
"Look at you," Dominique sneered, her free hand snaking down to roughly cup Evelyn’s mound through the costume skirt. "Playing dress-up like a little girl while your soaked cunt begs to be wrecked." She squeezed, hard, making Evelyn cry out. "Remember the café, pet? How you dribbled all over my fingers? That was just an appetizer." Dominique released her pussy and reached for a bottle of thick, clear lubricant. She squeezed a generous amount onto her palm, the slick sound obscenely loud. Her eyes locked onto Evelyn’s wide, terrified ones as she began to coat the massive dildo, her fingers sliding obscenely along its length, smearing lube with deliberate, possessive strokes. The cool gel dripped onto the white leather between Evelyn’s spread thighs.
Panic flared. Evelyn tried to push back, to twist away from the impending invasion, but Dominique’s grip in her hair was iron. Her struggles only ground her clit against the unforgiving ridge of the moon chair, sending unwanted sparks through her. The sheer size of the dildo was terrifying. It looked capable of splitting her in two.
"Ah-ah," Dominique tutted, leaning down until her lips were inches from Evelyn’s ear. Her breath was hot. "None of that, my little sailor slut. You wanted to explore? To be ready for anything?" Her free hand slid under the costume skirt, fingers tearing aside the flimsy panties beneath. Cool air hit Evelyn’s exposed cunt. Dominique’s fingertips, slick with lube, found her entrance and pressed hard. "This is anything." She pushed one thick finger in without warning, knuckle-deep into Evelyn’s tight, resisting channel. Evelyn gasped, her body seizing.
"Say it," Dominique hissed, her finger pistoning ruthlessly inside Evelyn’s cunt, stretching her cruelly. "Your fucking transformation phrase. Now." Another finger joined the first, scissoring, stretching her open for the monstrous toy waiting below. The stretch was intense, burning. Evelyn’s thighs trembled violently. Tears pricked her eyes.
"Fuck you," Evelyn choked out, a final, desperate flicker of defiance.
Dominique’s laugh was low and dangerous. She withdrew her fingers, leaving Evelyn clenching around emptiness. "Wrong answer, bitch." In one brutal, fluid motion, she grabbed Evelyn’s hips, lifted her slightly, and slammed her down onto the waiting dildo.
The intrusion was catastrophic. Evelyn screamed, the sound raw and ragged, echoing off the steel walls. It felt like being impaled. The thick, unyielding silicone plunged deep, stretching her inner walls beyond anything she’d ever felt, filling her impossibly, hitting her cervix with a jarring shock of pain that blurred her vision. She scrabbled at Dominique’s arms, her back arched impossibly over the curve of the chair, impaled and helpless.
"Shut up and take it!" Dominique growled, her hands clamping on Evelyn’s hips, holding her down, grinding her pelvis against the base of the dildo. "Feel that, you stupid cunt? Feel how deep I can own you?" She began to lift and slam Evelyn down again, forcing the massive toy to piston in and out of her spasming channel. The stretch was agony, a searing fire, yet beneath it, buried deep, an insidious pulse of forbidden pleasure sparked with every brutal thrust. Her body, traitorously, was flooding, slick easing the agonizing glide only slightly.
"SAY IT!" Dominique roared, her own arousal evident in the flush on her neck, the tightness in her jaw. She drove Evelyn down harder, the dildo bottoming out inside her with a wet, squelching sound.
The pain, the overwhelming fullness, the terrifying loss of control – it broke her. "Moon Prism Power!" Evelyn shrieked, the childish phrase ripped from her throat, laced with agony and humiliation. "Make up!"
"Louder!" Dominique demanded, slamming her down again, the base of the dildo grinding against Evelyn’s clit with bruising force.
"MOON PRISM POWER! MAKE UP!" Evelyn screamed, tears streaming down her face now, her voice cracking. The absurdity of the words, screamed while she was brutally fucked, was its own special torment.
Dominique stopped the brutal pistoning, holding Evelyn impaled, her entire body trembling. "Good." The word was a dark caress. She leaned in again, her lips brushing Evelyn’s tear-streaked cheek. "Now beg. Beg for what comes next. Beg for your watersports special. Use those pretty words."
The command hung in the chlorine-scented air. Evelyn felt the massive intrusion inside her, the relentless pressure against her cervix, the slick mess between her legs. The memory of Dominique’s finger in her mouth at the café, tasting her own climax. The threat implicit in the gleaming steel tub. Shame warred with a terrifying, dizzying compulsion to obey. To plummet deeper.
She took a shuddering breath, the dildo shifting inside her with the movement. Her voice was a ragged whisper, barely audible over the waterfall’s hum. "Please… Mistress Dominique…"
"Louder," Dominique commanded, her hand moving to roughly squeeze Evelyn’s breast through the costume.
"Please, Mistress Dominique," Evelyn gasped, the words scraping her throat. "Please… give me… the special."
Dominique’s smile was triumphant, vicious. "Beg like the bitch you are."
Evelyn closed her eyes, surrendering to the abyss. "Please, Mistress," she whimpered, her hips shifting involuntarily against the dildo buried inside her, seeking friction on her clit. "Please piss on me. Soak your filthy slut. I need it, Mistress. Please." The words, uttered while impaled on fake plastic, felt like the final shred of her old self dissolving.
Dominique straightened up, her eyes blazing with dark approval. She released the hold on Evelyn’s hips but kept her pinned on the dildo with a hand on her sternum. With her other hand, she unfastened the front of her vinyl leggings. "Hold still, sailor slut," she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. "This is just lesson one." She positioned herself over Evelyn’s trembling, prone form, her expression one of absolute ownership, ready to mark her territory in the most primal way possible.
Dominique’s vinyl leggings slid down her powerful thighs, pooling at her boots. She stood astride Evelyn’s prone body, the massive dildo still buried deep inside the trembling woman, a cruel anchor. Evelyn stared up, her vision blurred by tears, the salty tang sharp in her nose as Dominique’s shaved cunt hovered inches above her face, glistening. The scent of her arousal, mixed with the lingering chlorine and Evelyn’s own fear-sweat, choked the air. "Open wide, sailor slut," Dominique commanded, her voice low and thick, her hand pressing firmly on Evelyn’s sternum, pinning her to the moon chair’s curve. "Stick out that filthy tongue you used so well last night."
A strangled sob escaped Evelyn. The sheer humiliation was a physical blow, worse than the stretch inside her. She remembered the café, Dominique’s fingers in her mouth, the taste of her own desperation. Obedience felt like swallowing shards of glass. Slowly, tremulously, she parted her lips, her tongue extending a fraction, a pink, vulnerable offering. "Wider," Dominique snapped, shifting her hips slightly. "Or I’ll shove my boot in it instead." Evelyn flinched, opening her mouth fully, baring her throat, her eyes squeezed shut.
The first warm spatter hit Evelyn’s cheekbone, startlingly hot against her skin. It trickled down towards her open mouth, carrying the acrid, unmistakable scent of urine. Then, Dominique adjusted, and a steady, forceful stream struck Evelyn’s tongue directly. The taste exploded – bitter, salty, profoundly alien – flooding her senses. She gagged instinctively, choking, urine spilling over her lips, dripping down her chin onto the white sailor collar of the ridiculous costume. "Swallow it, you pathetic cocksucker," Dominique growled above her, the stream unwavering, powerful. "Swallow every fucking drop your Mistress gives you." She ground her hips slightly, emphasizing her ownership, the stream intensifying, hitting the back of Evelyn’s throat.
Evelyn fought the reflex to vomit, tears mixing with the warm liquid running down her face. The humiliation was absolute, corrosive. Yet, beneath the revulsion, a terrifying flicker ignited – the sheer surrender, the depth of her submission, sparked a traitorous throb deep in her cunt around the unyielding dildo. She swallowed convulsively, the bitter fluid burning its way down, another wave of Dominique’s piss coating her tongue, filling her mouth. She gulped it down, a broken whimper escaping her nose, her body trembling violently against its restraints. Dominique chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound. "Good little piss whore. Taking it like you were born for it."
The stream lessened, then stopped. Dominique stepped back, leaving Evelyn gasping, her face dripping, the taste clinging stubbornly. She looked debased, ruined, the Sailor Moon wig askew, makeup smeared, her mouth wet and slack. Dominique gazed down at her handiwork, wiping herself casually with her fingers before fastening her leggings. "Mmm. A nice start," she purred, her eyes raking over Evelyn’s shuddering form. "But the tub’s still empty, pet. And you begged so prettily for the special." She leaned down, grabbing Evelyn’s hair again, yanking her head back painfully. "That café spill was nothing. Tonight, you drown."
Dominique released her hair with a dismissive flick and grasped Evelyn’s hips. With brutal efficiency, she pulled her off the thick dildo. Evelyn cried out at the sudden, raw emptiness, the stretched ache throbbing. Dominique hauled her upright, her legs wobbling, urine still damp on her neck and costume. "Walk," Dominique ordered, shoving her towards the massive, gleaming steel tub in the center of the room. Its empty basin reflected the eerie blue light from the ocean map, looking cold and infinitely deep. The scent of chlorine was stronger here, almost overwhelming. Evelyn stumbled forward, each step a struggle, the humiliation a heavy cloak, the memory of Dominique’s taste thick in her mouth, the promise of the tub a terrifying abyss looming. Dominique followed close behind, a boot landing a sharp, stinging slap on Evelyn’s ass. "Move it, piss-pet. Your baptism’s only half-done."
The sharp crack of vinyl against wet skin reverberated in the humid air. Evelyn stumbled forward, the sting on her ass a fresh brand joining the constellation of humiliations already burning her skin and soul. The tub loomed ahead, its polished steel edges gleaming like a guillotine blade under the room’s cold blue light. The scent of chlorine was overwhelming now, clawing at the back of her throat, mixing nauseatingly with the lingering salt-bitter taste of Dominique’s piss. Her Sailor Moon skirt clung, damp and heavy, to her trembling thighs.
"Get in," Dominique commanded, her voice flat, final. She stood beside the empty basin, arms crossed, the picture of cool authority. Her gaze pinned Evelyn like a butterfly. "Strip first. Everything off. I want you bare for your blessing."
Evelyn’s fingers, numb and clumsy, fumbled with the tiny buttons at her back. The synthetic pink wig slipped further askew as she peeled the sodden blue minidress down her body, the cheap fabric sticking to her skin. She stepped out of it, shivering as cooler air hit her exposed flesh, goosebumps rising despite the room’s warmth. The flimsy panties, already torn and damp, followed. She stood naked except for the wig, feeling absurd and horrifically vulnerable before the waiting steel monolith. The dildo’s deep ache pulsed between her legs, a constant reminder of the penetration she’d just endured.
"Well?" Dominique arched an eyebrow, tapping a vinyl-clad foot impatiently on the tiled floor. "The tub, Evelyn. Don’t make me throw you in."
Swallowing bile, Evelyn climbed the small step stool placed beside the tub. The metal rim was shockingly cold against her inner thigh as she swung a leg over. She lowered herself in, the smooth, icy steel of the basin sucking the breath from her lungs as her bare ass and back made contact. It was like sitting in a giant, empty sink. She drew her knees up instinctively, wrapping her arms around them, trying to make herself small against the vast, intimidating space. Water beaded on the steel where her skin touched it. She stared up at Dominique, who loomed over the edge, a dark silhouette against the glowing map. Evelyn’s teeth began to chatter.
"Open your legs," Dominique ordered softly. She rested a hand on the tub’s rim, leaning forward. "Show me that greedy little cunt that begged so sweetly for this. Show me what I own."
A sob hitched in Evelyn’s chest. The memory of begging – "Please piss on me. Soak your filthy slut." – echoed, sharp and humiliating. She couldn’t meet Dominique’s eyes. Slowly, trembling violently, she uncrossed her arms and let her knees fall apart. She exposed herself completely – the pink, swollen lips of her pussy, the glistening evidence of her unwanted arousal mixed with lubricant, the dark thatch of her pubic hair plastered down. The cool air hit her exposed sex, making her flinch. Shame burned hotter than the steel beneath her.
"Good girl," Dominique murmured, her voice a velvet-covered blade. She unzipped her vinyl leggings again with deliberate slowness, the sound loud in the tense silence. "Head back, pet. Open your mouth. And keep those legs wide. This isn't a shower; it’s an anointing." She positioned herself directly above Evelyn, one boot braced on the step stool, the other on the tub’s rim, straddling the basin. Her shaved cunt was level with Evelyn’s upturned face. "Wider," she commanded, spreading her own labia slightly with her fingers. "Tongue out. Like a good little urinal."
Evelyn obeyed, tilting her head back until the steel rim pressed into her neck. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, forcing her tongue out, her throat convulsing with suppressed nausea. She squeezed her eyes shut. The smell of Dominique’s arousal and skin was immediate, intimate, overwhelming the chlorine. Cool air brushed her wet tongue.
The first warm splash hit Evelyn’s collarbone, startling her eyes open. Then the stream found its target, hitting the back of her throat with startling force. Evelyn choked, gagging violently as the hot, acrid liquid flooded her mouth. She tried to turn her head, but Dominique grabbed a handful of the pink wig, yanking her back into position. "Swallow it, piss-slut!" Dominique growled, her stream unwavering, powerful, hitting the back of Evelyn’s palate. "Swallow every fucking drop!"
Urine overflowed Evelyn’s mouth, cascading down her cheeks, into her ears, soaking the ridiculous wig, running in hot rivulets over her breasts and down her belly. The taste was intensely bitter, salty, utterly foreign, coating her tongue and throat. She swallowed convulsively, tears streaming freely now, mixing with the warm flow. She felt the liquid pool around her hips in the cold basin, the warmth a shocking contrast to the steel. Dominique shifted slightly, and the stream splashed directly onto Evelyn’s exposed breasts, then lower, hitting her belly, her spread thighs, the dark curls between her legs. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so, marking her skin. The humiliation was total, absolute. She was being baptized in her Mistress’s waste.
"Taste that?" Dominique hissed, her breath coming faster now, her own arousal evident. "That’s your place. My property. My filthy fucking toilet." She angled her hips, directing the stream lower still, letting it splash directly onto Evelyn’s exposed clit and swollen labia. The sudden, unexpected heat on her hyper-sensitive flesh made Evelyn jolt. A strangled moan escaped her, a sound of pure degradation that morphed, horrifyingly, into a pulse of unwanted, traitorous pleasure deep in her core. Her cunt clenched involuntarily around the fading ache of the dildo. She hated it. She hated herself.
The stream lessened to a trickle, then stopped. Dominique stepped back from the edge, refastening her leggings, looking down at Evelyn with predatory satisfaction. Evelyn lay curled slightly in the tub, trembling violently, covered in glistening rivulets of urine that steamed slightly in the cooler air. The tub held perhaps an inch of the warm, pungent liquid around her hips and legs. She retched, bringing up only bitter bile, spitting it weakly into the mess she lay in. Her own smell, mixed with Dominique’s, was overpowering. She was drowning in it.
"Not so thirsty now, are we?" Dominique mocked, leaning over the rim again, her eyes gleaming. She traced a wet finger through the liquid on Evelyn’s thigh. "But the tub’s still mostly empty, pet." She gestured towards the gushing waterfall feature embedded in the faux rocks nearby. A chrome lever was clearly visible. "Hold your breath."
Dominique’s fingers closed over the cold chrome lever embedded in the faux rock wall. Evelyn saw the movement, a blur of intent through her tear-blurred vision. The command echoed: Hold your breath. Panic, raw and primal, clawed up her throat, momentarily overwhelming the taste of piss and bile coating her tongue. She barely managed a ragged, choking gasp before Dominique yanked the lever down hard.
With a sudden, deafening roar, the waterfall feature surged to life. Not a gentle cascade, but a punishing deluge. Icy water, heavily chlorinated, hammered down directly onto Evelyn’s upturned face and naked body, still slick with Dominique’s urine. The force was brutal, knocking her head back against the unforgiving steel rim, filling her open mouth and nostrils with shocking cold. She sputtered, flailing instinctively, limbs thrashing in the shallow piss-water already pooling around her. The icy torrent pinned her, stole her breath, turned the tub into a churning, frigid hell.
“Fucking breathe it, bitch!” Dominique’s shout cut through the roar, vicious, triumphant. She leaned over the edge, bracing herself against the spray, her eyes burning into Evelyn’s panicked ones. Water sluiced over Evelyn’s body, washing streaks of urine down her breasts, her belly, her cunt, the filthy warmth momentarily replaced by biting cold before mixing into a nauseating lukewarm stew. Evelyn gagged, swallowing chlorinated water, her lungs burning. She tried to twist away, to find air, but the deluge was relentless, filling her world with choking wetness and Dominique’s piercing gaze.
“You begged for this!” Dominique reminded her, the words slicing through the watery din. “You whined like a bitch in heat for your special! Take it!” She watched, fascinated, as Evelyn’s struggles grew weaker, her eyes wide with terror, mouth working like a fish out of water. The sheer helplessness, the complete surrender to the element Dominique controlled, sent a visible tremor of arousal through the Domme. Her knuckles whitened on the tub rim.
Just as black spots began dancing at the edges of Evelyn’s vision, the roar ceased abruptly. Silence crashed in, broken only by Evelyn’s desperate, wracking coughs. She doubled over in the tub, vomiting chlorinated water and bile into the filthy mix sloshing around her hips. Her body convulsed, gasping, shivering violently in the cold steel basin. The water level had risen halfway up her torso, murky and pungent. Dominique let her suffer for a long moment, watching the violent tremors wrack the smaller woman’s frame, the pink wig plastered grotesquely to her head.
“Look at you,” Dominique finally murmured, her voice low, thick with contempt and something darker. “My little piss-drowned sailor slut.” She reached down, not gently, and grabbed a fistful of the wet wig, hauling Evelyn’s head up. Water streamed from her nose, her mouth, her hair. Her eyes were bloodshot, terrified, utterly broken. “Pathetic.” Dominique released her, letting her head slump back into the foul water with a splash.
Without ceremony, Dominique grabbed Evelyn’s slick upper arm, hauling her upright in the tub. Evelyn stumbled, weak-kneed, slipping on the slick bottom. Dominique yanked her towards the edge, commanding, “Out. Now.” Evelyn clambered over the rim on trembling limbs, collapsing onto the cold tiled floor in a shivering, dripping heap. She retched again, bringing up nothing but acidic water. The air felt impossibly cold on her soaked skin.
Dominique stood over her, a dark silhouette haloed by the blue map-light. She nudged Evelyn’s hip with the toe of her vinyl boot. “On your knees. Face me.” The command brooked no hesitation. Evelyn pushed herself up weakly, her body screaming protest, water dripping from her nose and chin. She knelt, naked and shivering, her gaze fixed on Dominique’s boots. She couldn’t look higher. The shame was a living thing, coiling tight in her gut.
Dominique unfastened her leggings again, the sound unnervingly loud in the suddenly quiet room save for Evelyn’s ragged breathing and the drip of water. She pushed the vinyl down just enough to expose her shaved cunt, glistening with her own slick arousal. The scent of her, musky and potent, cut through the lingering stench of chlorine and piss. She stepped closer, until her thighs brushed Evelyn’s trembling shoulders. “Clean me, piss-pet,” she ordered, her voice dangerously soft. Her fingers tangled roughly in Evelyn’s wet hair, forcing her head forward. “Lick your Mistress’s cunt. Show me how grateful you are for your baptism. Get every fucking drop.”
The proximity was overwhelming. The heat radiating from Dominique’s sex, the heady aroma of her arousal, the memory of the humiliation just endured – it all collided in Evelyn’s shattered mind. Dominique’s grip tightened, pulling her face insistently against her folds. “Open that filthy mouth. Now.”
A whimper escaped Evelyn. Obedience felt like the only path through the wreckage. She parted her lips, her tongue trembling as it touched warm, slick flesh. The taste exploded – complex, musky, utterly Dominique – a shocking counterpoint to the bitterness still clinging to her palate. Dominique groaned softly above her, a sound of pure dominance and pleasure. She ground her hips forward, forcing her swollen clit against Evelyn’s tentative tongue. “Harder, you useless cocksucker,” she rasped. “Fucking lick it like you mean it. Like the desperate little piss-whore you are.”
Evelyn flinched but obeyed, pressing her tongue flat against Dominique’s clit, dragging it upwards with more pressure. The response was immediate. Dominique’s thighs clenched around her head, a guttural moan tearing from her throat. “Yeah. Like that. Use that fucking tongue.” She guided Evelyn’s head, rocking her hips, grinding her cunt against the smaller woman’s mouth. “Get deeper. Inside. Fuck me with it.”
Evelyn probed, pushing her tongue past the outer lips, delving into Dominique’s wet heat. The taste intensified, flooding her senses – salt, musk, power. She lapped at the slick walls, mimicking the motions Dominique had used on her, feeling the hot clench of muscle around her invading tongue. Dominique’s breathing grew ragged, punctuated by harsh gasps and low curses. “Fuck… yes… suck my clit, bitch… harder!” Evelyn focused her mouth, sucking the hard nub between her lips, flicking it rapidly with her tongue as Dominique bucked against her face.
The Domme’s grip on her hair became almost painful, holding her captive against her grinding pussy. “Don’t you fucking stop…” Dominique panted, her voice thick. Evelyn could feel the tension coiling in the body pressed against her, the tremors starting in Dominique’s thighs. She redoubled her efforts, sucking hard, probing deep with her tongue, lost now in the rhythm, the taste, the sheer act of forced worship. The sounds Dominique made – raw, animalistic groans – were both terrifying and perversely exhilarating.
Dominique suddenly stiffened, a choked cry escaping her. Her cunt pulsed violently around Evelyn’s tongue, flooding her mouth with a fresh gush of slick, salty release. She ground down hard, holding Evelyn’s face trapped against her as her orgasm ripped through her, tremors shaking her entire frame. Evelyn kept licking, swallowing convulsively, the taste of Dominique’s climax another layer of degradation imprinted on her soul.
Finally, Dominique sagged slightly, releasing her death-grip on Evelyn’s hair. She stepped back, refastening her leggings with deliberate slowness, her breath still coming fast. Evelyn knelt on the floor, trembling, her face glistening with Dominique’s wetness, her mouth tasting of piss, chlorine, and now the undeniable tang of her Mistress’s cunt. She stared blankly at the wet tiles, her mind a numb void.
Dominique looked down at her, a slow, cruel smile spreading across her face. She wiped her fingers casually on the damp pink wig still clinging to Evelyn’s head. “Lesson learned,” she stated, her voice devoid of warmth. The finality of it echoed in the dripping silence.