Chapter 7: Golden Shower Interrogation
The echo of Evelyn's scream – "Because you love your filthy slut!" – still vibrated in the plush silence of the bedroom, tangled with the fading scent of sweat and sex. Dominique’s rhythm had fractured completely at the confession. She drove into Evelyn one last time, a guttural groan tearing from her throat as she buried the strap deep and held, her body rigid against Evelyn’s ass. Evelyn felt the phantom pulse, the transfer of Dominique’s climax through the silicone, and it ripped her own orgasm from her, a second, brutal wave that left her gasping, limp, her cunt fluttering weakly around the hard intrusion.
Dominique collapsed forward, her sweat-slicked chest pressing against Evelyn’s back, her breath coming in harsh rasps against Evelyn’s shoulder. The weight was immense, grounding, almost suffocating. One hand splayed possessively over Evelyn’s hip bone, fingers digging in. She didn’t move, didn’t pull out. Just breathed. Heavy. Hot. Present.
Silence descended, thick and humming. Evelyn lay pinned, face mashed into the silk sheets, tasting salt and fabric. Her mind was a numb void, echoing only the raw truths she’d screamed. Dominique’s love. Her own filthy need. The leather harness strap lay cool against her lower back. Minutes stretched, measured only by the slowing rhythm of Dominique’s breath against her skin and the low thrum of the hidden sound system.
Then, movement. Dominique shifted her weight, not pulling out entirely, but rising slightly. Her free hand slid from Evelyn’s hip, tracing a slow, deliberate path across the trembling curve of her ass. The touch wasn't sexual. It was appraising. Possessive. Tracing the reddened marks left by her palm, the faint bruises blooming on the pale skin. Evelyn shivered, a fresh tremor unrelated to climax.
"Look at you," Dominique murmured, her voice a low vibration against Evelyn’s spine. Her fingers dipped into the crease, skimming the sensitive skin near her asshole, making Evelyn flinch. Then lower, sliding easily through the slick mess pooled between Evelyn's thighs. "Ruined. Absolutely fucking ruined." There was a dark satisfaction in the tone. Her fingers gathered wetness, then brushed Evelyn's swollen, hyper-sensitive clit with deliberate, almost clinical pressure. Evelyn whimpered, a weak sound muffled by the sheets. "And still so wet, darling. Insatiable little cunt."
Dominique finally pulled the strap out. The sudden emptiness made Evelyn gasp. She heard the soft thud as Dominique unbuckled the harness and let it drop to the floor. Dominique moved then, rolling Evelyn onto her back with surprising gentleness. Evelyn blinked up at her, eyes wide, pupils dilated, hair tangled. Dominique loomed over her, a silhouette against the dim, sultry glow, sweat gleaming on her defined shoulders and chest. Her gaze raked over Evelyn’s naked body – the bite marks on her throat and shoulders, the flushed skin of her breasts, the dark triangle glistening wetly. That gaze held no pity. Only a fierce, consuming hunger that hadn’t been sated.
Dominique knelt between Evelyn’s legs, pushing them wider apart. Her hands settled on Evelyn’s inner thighs, thumbs pressing against the sensitive tendons. Evelyn’s breath hitched. This wasn’t the brutality of the balcony or the demanding possession of the bed. This felt… deliberate. Like preparation. Dominique leaned forward, her short dark hair brushing Evelyn’s stomach. Her lips were inches from Evelyn’s clit. The anticipation was agonizing. Evelyn braced for the sharp suction, the demanding tongue.
It didn’t come. Instead, Dominique lowered her head further. Evelyn felt warm breath, then the soft, shocking pressure of Dominique’s cheek resting against her inner thigh, just beside her exposed cunt. Dominique turned her head slightly, nuzzling the damp skin. Her eyes, dark and unreadable, locked onto Evelyn’s. "You know," Dominique breathed, the words tickling Evelyn’s skin, sending shivers through her oversensitive body, "there’s another way to mark you, darling. A deeper way. To show you belong." Her hand moved, fingers tracing the outer lips, then one dipped inside, just the tip, gathering fresh wetness. Evelyn moaned, her hips lifting involuntarily.
Dominique watched the reaction, a slow, dangerous smile curling her lips. She withdrew her finger, holding it glistening before Evelyn’s eyes. "You’re going to scream for me again," she stated, her voice dropping to a husky whisper filled with dark promise. She brought her wet finger to her own mouth, sucking it clean slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving Evelyn’s. "But this time…" she purred, shifting her position. She didn't move to Evelyn’s mouth. Instead, she slid one strong thigh up, pressing it firmly, insistently, between Evelyn’s legs. The pressure was high, right against Evelyn’s swollen mound and clit. Evelyn gasped, arching into the unexpected friction. Dominique held her thigh there, a solid, demanding presence. Her hand came up, fingers tangling in Evelyn’s hair, pulling her head back slightly, forcing her gaze upwards. Dominique leaned closer, her face hovering inches above Evelyn’s. "...this time," Dominique whispered, her breath warm and scotch-tinged against Evelyn’s lips, her eyes burning with an intensity that stole Evelyn’s breath, "I want to feel those tight little cunt muscles milking my fingers…" Her free hand slid down, fingers finding Evelyn’s entrance, pressing against the slick opening, "...while I piss straight down your throat."
The words landed like a physical blow. Evelyn froze. Her body, which had been humming with residual arousal, went rigid with shock. Piss. Down her throat. While being fingered. The crude reality of it slammed into her, stripping away any lingering haze of pleasure. Revulsion warred violently with the insidious, shameful thrill of utter surrender Dominique’s command always ignited. Her eyes widened, searching Dominique’s face for any sign of jest, finding none. Only that terrifying, absolute certainty. That hunger.
"Dominique..." Evelyn choked out, her voice trembling. "I... I don't..."
"You do," Dominique cut her off, her voice low and implacable. Her fingers at Evelyn’s entrance pressed harder, not entering, just a constant, demanding pressure. Her thigh ground harder against Evelyn’s clit, forcing a choked gasp. "You want it. You need this degradation. Proof of your surrender. Proof I own every part of you." Her grip in Evelyn’s hair tightened. "Open your mouth, slut."
The command brooked no refusal. It vibrated through Evelyn, bypassing conscious thought. Her jaw unclenched, her lips parted on a trembling breath. The taste of herself, faintly metallic, lingered. Dominique shifted her weight, rising slightly on her knees, positioning herself directly over Evelyn’s face. Evelyn stared up, past the hard line of Dominique’s stomach, the dark thatch of hair, the powerful muscles of her thighs framing her vision. Dominique lowered herself slightly, her cunt hovering mere inches above Evelyn’s mouth. Evelyn could smell her intimately – musk, sex, Dominique’s unique scent, sharp and intoxicating. The intimacy was terrifying. Utterly exposed.
"Wider," Dominique commanded, her voice tight with anticipation. Evelyn obeyed, opening her mouth as wide as she could, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her tongue lay flat, helpless. Dominique watched her, that dark fire in her eyes. Then, her gaze dropped, focusing between Evelyn’s legs. Her fingers, which had been pressing, finally pushed. Two fingers slid deep into Evelyn’s cunt in one smooth, brutal stroke. Evelyn cried out, the sound muffled, her body arching off the bed at the sudden, deep stretch. "That's it, darling," Dominique breathed, her voice strained. She began to fuck Evelyn with her fingers, deep, rhythmic strokes, curling them expertly against that spot inside. "Feel me inside you. Claiming you."
The pleasure was immediate and intense, warring against the dread coiling in Evelyn’s stomach. Her cunt clenched instinctively around the invading fingers, the 'milking' motion Dominique had demanded happening involuntarily. Dominique groaned above her, shifting her hips minutely. "Good girl," she rasped. "Now... swallow everything."
Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. She heard a low grunt from Dominique, a shift in her breathing. Then it came. Not a trickle. A sudden, warm stream hitting the back of her open throat. The taste was acrid, salty, shockingly warm. It flooded her mouth instantly. Instinct screamed to gag, to spit, to choke. Dominique’s fingers pistoned deep inside her, a relentless counterpoint. "Fuck yes," Dominique hissed, her thrusts becoming harder, faster. "Swallow it, you filthy whore. Take what your Domme gives you!"
Evelyn fought the reflex, her throat working convulsively. She forced herself to swallow. The warm, bitter fluid slid down her throat, thick and alien. Another spurt followed, stronger, hitting her tongue, filling her mouth again. She swallowed convulsively, tears springing to her eyes from the effort, the taste, the sheer violation. Dominique’s fingers slammed into her, the heel of her hand grinding against Evelyn’s clit. The sensations collided – the deep, brutal pleasure lighting her nerves, the humiliation of swallowing Dominique’s piss, the overwhelming sense of being utterly used and owned. She was sobbing now, choking slightly as she swallowed, her body a mess of conflicting tremors. Her hips bucked wildly against Dominique’s hand, her cunt clenching and spasming around the relentless fingers. She was hurtling towards an orgasm born of degradation and intense physical stimulation.
Dominique growled, a feral sound, as she pissed again, the stream splashing against Evelyn’s tongue. "That's it! Milk my fucking fingers! Take it all, you perfect, disgusting slut!" Evelyn swallowed, gagged, swallowed again. The taste was pervasive, coating her tongue, her throat. Her climax hit her like a truck, tearing through the shame and the revulsion. She screamed around the stream filling her mouth, her body convulsing violently, her cunt squeezing Dominique’s fingers in rhythmic, desperate spasms. The orgasm was sharp, brutal, laced with humiliation so profound it felt like a physical rending.
As Evelyn’s convulsions subsided, trembling and gasping for air between choked swallows, the stream slowed, then stopped. Dominique pulled her fingers out with a slick sound, leaving Evelyn empty and shuddering. She shifted her weight off Evelyn’s face. Evelyn turned her head, coughing weakly, spittle tinged faintly yellow dripping onto the silk sheets. Her throat burned. The taste lingered, thick and nauseating.
Dominique knelt beside her, breathing heavily. She reached out, not with gentleness, but with a possessive sort of care, brushing sweat-damp hair from Evelyn’s tear-streaked face. Her thumb traced Evelyn’s lower lip, sticky and wet. She brought that thumb to her own mouth and slowly, deliberately, licked it clean. Her eyes held Evelyn’s, the ferocity softened by something unnervingly close to tenderness. "Good girl," she murmured, the words rough but undeniable. "My perfect, filthy girl." She leaned down, pressing her lips to Evelyn’s sweaty temple in a kiss that felt both like absolution and the deepest brand of ownership. Her scent – leather, sweat, sex, and the faint, bitter tang of her own piss – enveloped Evelyn like a shroud. The untouched glass of scotch sat on the floor nearby, forgotten, its amber liquid catching the dim light, a silent witness to the ruin.
The untouched glass of scotch sat on the floor nearby, forgotten, its amber liquid catching the dim light, a silent witness to the ruin. Evelyn trembled beneath Dominique’s lingering kiss on her temple, the scent of piss and sweat and sex thick in her nostrils, her throat still burning. She felt hollowed out, scraped raw, every nerve ending screaming with a chaotic mix of shame and lingering, traitorous arousal. Dominique’s thumb, tasting of her own humiliation, brushed her cheek again.
"Breathe, darling," Dominique murmured, the low command a rumble against Evelyn’s sweat-damp skin. It wasn’t gentle, but it tethered her, pulling her back from the edge of panic. "Just breathe." Evelyn sucked in a ragged gulp of air, the movement making her throat spasm again. Her eyes, wide and wet, met Dominique’s. That gaze wasn't soft, but the terrifying ferocity had banked, replaced by an unnerving possessiveness that felt almost… protective. Heavy. Absolute.
Dominique shifted, her strong hands sliding under Evelyn’s back and knees. "Up you get." She lifted Evelyn effortlessly, cradling her against her chest as she stood from the wreckage of silk sheets. Evelyn’s head lolled against Dominique’s shoulder, her body limp, utterly spent. The cool air of the bedroom hit her sweat-slicked skin, raising goosebumps. She felt exposed, fragile, yet strangely safe in the solidity of Dominique’s hold. Her gaze drifted past Dominique’s shoulder to the dark leather couch, the chrome accents gleaming dully.
Dominique carried her not towards the bed, but towards an arched doorway leading deeper into the penthouse’s shadows. "Need to clean my filthy girl up," Dominique stated, her voice matter-of-fact, grounding. The possessive 'my' sent another shiver through Evelyn, one that coiled low in her belly despite the exhaustion. Past the doorway, the air shifted, becoming humid, scented faintly with chlorine and expensive bath oils. The soft glow revealed an expansive en suite bathroom dominated by a sunken black marble tub, already filling with steaming water. City lights glittered beyond another large window, reflecting on the water's surface.
Dominique lowered Evelyn onto the cool, polished marble edge of the tub. The sudden chill on her bare ass was shocking. Evelyn swayed, bracing herself with trembling hands. Dominique knelt before her, one hand steadying Evelyn’s hip, the other dipping into the steaming water, testing the temperature. Her eyes raked over Evelyn’s body again – the bite marks purpling on her throat, the flushed skin, the sticky mess between her thighs, the faint yellow streaks drying on her inner legs. "Look at the state of you," Dominique breathed, but there was no disgust, only a dark pride. "Utterly debauched. Perfect."
She reached for a large, soft sponge on a shelf, plunging it into the water. Without preamble, she brought the dripping sponge to Evelyn’s inner thigh, scrubbing firmly at the dried piss. The water was hot, the sponge abrasive on Evelyn’s sensitized skin. She flinched. "Sit still," Dominique ordered, her grip tightening on Evelyn’s hip. "Let me wash my mark off you." The scrub moved higher, over the curve of her mound, the sponge rasping through her dark curls, cleaning away the sticky evidence of their earlier brutal coupling and the degradation that followed. Dominique’s touch was efficient, thorough, leaving no inch untouched, pushing the sponge folds firmly against her labia, inside the creases. It wasn't tender; it was a claiming. An assertion of ownership over her very cleanliness.
Evelyn closed her eyes, surrendering to the rough ministrations, the heat of the water, the sting of the sponge. Her body, depleted moments before, began to stir again beneath Dominique’s demanding touch. The shame was still there, a low hum, but it was being overridden by a deep, submissive ache, a craving for this control, for this absolute possession. She felt her cunt pulse, empty and aching, a fresh slickness beginning to seep despite the scrubbing water. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her lips.
Dominique paused, the sponge hovering just below Evelyn’s navel. Her gaze snapped up, sharp and knowing. "What was that, darling?" she murmured, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr. She deliberately slid the sponge lower again, dragging the rough surface slowly, excruciatingly, over Evelyn’s swollen clit. Evelyn gasped, her back arching, her hips jerking forward into the touch. "Already?" Dominique chuckled, a low, dark sound. She tossed the sponge aside with a wet slap against the marble. Her wet hand replaced it, palm pressing flat against Evelyn’s mound, fingers splayed possessively over her cunt. The heat of Dominique’s skin was far more intense than the water. "Your greedy little slit is dripping again. Needy fucking whore."
She leaned forward, her face inches from Evelyn’s. The scent of her own arousal, mixed with the bath oils and the lingering bitterness from her mouth, filled Evelyn’s senses. Dominique’s free hand tangled in Evelyn’s damp hair, pulling her head back sharply. "You loved it, didn’t you?" Dominique whispered, her breath hot on Evelyn’s lips. "Taking my piss down your throat like a good little toilet? Feeling my fingers fucking you raw while you choked on it?" Evelyn’s eyes flew open, wide with shame and a terrifying truth. She wanted to deny it, but her body betrayed her, her cunt clenching around nothing beneath Dominique’s palm, a fresh pulse of wetness soaking Dominique’s fingers. "Tell me," Dominique demanded, her thumb finding Evelyn’s clit and applying sudden, brutal pressure. "Tell me you loved it, you filthy piss-slut."
The pressure was agony and ecstasy. Evelyn cried out, her body bowing. "Yes!" The word tore from her, ragged and desperate. "Yes, Dominique! I... I loved it!" The admission, voiced aloud amidst the steam and the echoes of her degradation, shattered something inside her. A dam broke. "I loved tasting you! I loved feeling you own me like that!" Tears streamed down her face again, but they weren’t tears of shame anymore. They were tears of raw, terrifying surrender, of finally embracing the depravity Dominique demanded. "Please... please..."
She leaned even closer, her lips brushing Evelyn’s ear. "Get on your knees. On the floor." Her finger pistoned relentlessly. "I’m going to fuck your face properly this time. Make you gag on my strap until tears run down your pretty cheeks." She crooked her finger, scraping over that spot inside Evelyn with brutal precision. Pleasure detonated, white-hot and shattering. Evelyn convulsed, her scream echoing off the marble walls, her cunt spasming violently around Dominique’s invading hand. "Then," Dominique growled as Evelyn shuddered through the brutal climax, her own arousal blazing in her eyes, "I'm going to piss down your throat again, just for being such an eager, disgusting whore." She slowly withdrew her soaked finger, holding Evelyn's trembling gaze. "Move."
The command hung in the humid air, sharp as broken glass. Evelyn scrambled. Her bare feet slipped on the wet marble as she pushed herself off the tub ledge, collapsing gracelessly onto her knees on the cool, hard floor. Water dripped from her body into small puddles, echoing in the tiled space. She stared at Dominique’s thighs, the dark curls glistening, the powerful muscles taut. The lingering taste of piss coated her tongue, thick and acrid, a brutal reminder of her degradation.
Dominique stood over her, a dark silhouette against the steam, one hand casually stroking her own damp cunt. She watched Evelyn kneel, a predator observing its prey assume position. "Look at me." Evelyn’s gaze travelled slowly up the sculpted legs, over the flat stomach, settling on Dominique’s face. That piercing gaze held her, stripping her bare all over again. Dominique’s fingers, glistening with her own wetness, traced Evelyn’s lower lip. "Open wide, toilet. Show me how eager you are to be used."
Evelyn parted her lips, her jaw already aching in anticipation, the ghost of the strap from the balcony encounter tightening her throat. Dominique didn’t move immediately. She bent slightly, her free hand fisting Evelyn’s wet hair, pulling her head back at a painful angle. "Wider. You’re taking more than spit this time, slut." Evelyn strained, opening her mouth until her jaw trembled, her breath coming in shallow pants. The tip of Dominique’s index finger pressed against her tongue, depositing a slick smear of her arousal. The taste, musky and primal, mingled sickeningly with the stale bitterness already there. "Suck." Evelyn obeyed, swirling her tongue around the finger, hollowing her cheeks, mimicking the action she knew was coming. Dominique hummed approval, pulling her finger out with a pop. "Good. Remember that."
Then, movement. Dominique turned, stepping away towards the discarded harness near the tub. Evelyn remained frozen on her knees, the cool air raising goosebumps on her wet skin, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. She heard the sharp snap of buckles, the soft thud of leather settling. When Dominique turned back, the thick black silicone phallus jutted aggressively from the harness, already glistening faintly with lube she must have applied. It looked impossibly large. Dominique stalked towards her, the purposeful stride making Evelyn flinch. She stopped, the rigid tip inches from Evelyn’s open mouth. "This," Dominique murmured, gripping the base of the strap, aligning it precisely, "is going down your throat until you choke. And you will swallow every fucking inch, understand? Just like you swallowed my piss."
She didn’t wait for an answer. A powerful hand fisted in Evelyn’s hair again, yanking her head forward while Dominique thrust her hips. The solid silicone head slammed past Evelyn’s lips, stretching them wide, hitting the back of her throat instantly. Gagging. Choking. Tears sprang to Evelyn’s eyes as her throat spasmed violently, desperate to expel the intrusion. Dominique held her there, buried to the hilt, the thick shaft straining Evelyn’s jaw, the harness base pressing hard against her lips and nose. "Breathe through your nose, whore," Dominique commanded, her voice tight with her own arousal. Evelyn gasped, a strangled, wet sound, snot and tears mixing. The pressure was immense, suffocating. She felt Dominique’s knuckles against her cheekbone.
Then, movement. A slow, deliberate withdrawal, the ridged surface dragging agonizingly over her sensitive palate and tongue. Air rushed into Evelyn’s burning lungs, a blessed half-second of relief before Dominique slammed forward again, deeper this time, grinding the harness base against Evelyn’s face. Gag. Spit flew. Tears streamed freely now, blurring her vision. Dominique set a relentless rhythm: deep, brutal thrusts that punched the air from Evelyn’s lungs, followed by withdrawals that left her gasping for a fraction of a second before being brutally stuffed again. Her throat felt scraped raw. Her jaw screamed. The rhythmic thuck-thuck-thuck of the strap pistoning into her mouth, the wet gagging sounds, Dominique’s harsh grunts – it was a symphony of violation.
"Fuck, that tight little throat," Dominique groaned, her hips snapping harder, driving the strap impossibly deep with each thrust. "Made for cock. Made for piss. Made for me." Evelyn’s body convulsed with each invasion, her hands fluttering uselessly at her sides, trapped by the command to kneel and take it. Saliva poured from the corners of her stretched mouth, dripping onto her chest, mingling with her tears. The humiliation was total. The degradation, absolute. Yet, through the pain and the choking panic, a treacherous coil of heat tightened low in her belly. Her cunt throbbed, empty and aching, remembering the brutal pleasure of Dominique’s fingers. She felt the familiar slickness gathering between her thighs again. Shame warred with a dark, desperate craving.
Dominique fucked her face with increasing ferocity, the thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more urgent. She leaned over, bracing one hand on the marble tub behind Evelyn, using the leverage to drive deeper. "Gonna come," she gasped, her voice ragged. "Gonna flood that filthy mouth after I flood your throat. Get ready, piss-slut." The words, the promise of another violation within the violation, sent a fresh wave of terror and unwanted arousal crashing through Evelyn. She gagged violently around the thick intrusion as Dominique’s hips stuttered, a guttural cry tearing from the Domme’s throat. Evelyn felt the sudden, unmistakable internal pulse through the silicone, the phantom echo of Dominique’s climax. Simultaneously, Dominique’s grip in her hair tightened to the point of pain, holding her perfectly still, impaled.
Then, the stream. Hot. Sudden. Hitting the back of her already abused throat. The acrid taste exploded, stronger than before, mixed now with the taste of silicone and her own copious spit. She choked, trying to swallow automatically as Dominique kept pissing, the warm liquid flooding her mouth, spilling over her tongue, impossible to contain. Gagging. Coughing. The stream kept coming, relentless. Tears blurred everything. She swallowed convulsively, the bitter fluid burning all the way down, even as the thick strap remained lodged deep, blocking her airway. Dominique groaned above her, a sound of pure, dark satisfaction, grinding her hips slightly, ensuring the piss flowed directly down Evelyn’s gullet. "Swallow it all, you filthy fucking toilet!" Dominique snarled, her voice thick with pleasure. "Take my piss like the desperate cunt you are!"
Evelyn swallowed. And swallowed. Her throat worked desperately against the dual invasion – the rigid cock and the warm, bitter flow. The humiliation was a physical weight crushing her chest. Her own treacherous body clenched again, a weak, shameful pulse of pleasure sparking between her legs. She was nothing but a vessel, a receptacle, utterly owned and used. The stream finally slowed, trickled, stopped. Dominique pulled the strap out with a slick, obscene sound. Evelyn gasped, a ragged, wet inhale, coughing violently, piss and spit dribbling down her chin onto her breasts. She collapsed forward, bracing herself on shaking hands, coughing, spitting, trying to clear her ruined throat.
Dominique stood over her, breathing heavily, unbuckling the harness. She let it fall with a wet slap onto the tiles near Evelyn’s trembling hands. Her fingers, rough and possessive, slid into Evelyn’s sweat-damp hair again, not pulling, just holding. Evelyn looked up, vision blurred by tears and exhaustion. Dominique’s expression was fierce, triumphant, her eyes blazing with possession. She used her grip to tilt Evelyn’s head back, forcing her to meet that gaze. Dominique’s thumb wiped roughly across Evelyn’s wet, swollen lips, smearing spit and the faint, acrid residue. She brought that thumb to her own mouth and slowly, deliberately, sucked it clean, her eyes never leaving Evelyn’s shattered ones. A ghost of that terrifying tenderness flickered in her gaze. "Look at you," she murmured, her voice hoarse but laced with dark pride. "My perfect, filthy masterpiece." She released Evelyn’s hair, letting her crumple back onto the wet floor, spent and utterly broken, surrounded by the scent of chlorine, sex, and her own degradation, the reflection of golden city lights shimmering in the dark water of the cooling tub.