Chapter 10: Shower Punishment
The kiss broke like a snapped wire. Iris sagged against the tiles, trembling, the cold water shocking her overheated skin. The taste of her own piss lingered on June’s lips, a brutal reminder of the violation that had left her feeling flayed open and impossibly owned. Before she could gasp a breath, before the shivering could truly take hold, June moved.
It wasn't gentle. Hands, slick with water and the remnants of Iris’s humiliation, gripped her hips hard, spinning her away from the wall’s cold support. Iris cried out, stumbling, her heavy belly swinging awkwardly. The world tilted. Her palms slapped wetly against the frosted glass door, steam obscuring the outside world. Her knees hit the padded vinyl of the shower bench, her torso folding forward over it, the edge pressing uncomfortably into her swollen abdomen. The position forced her ass high, exposed.
"No," Iris gasped, the word muffled against the bench. "June, please… I can’t…" The vulnerability was crushing, her body spread and vulnerable, the recent degradation still echoing in her nerves.
"You can," June growled, the sound vibrating low in her throat, devoid of the midwife’s soothing cadence. It was pure predator. "And you will." Hands, strong and demanding, spread Iris’s buttocks wide apart. The cold air hitting her exposed anus made her flinch violently. "Look at this," June breathed, her voice thick with dark fascination. "This tight little fucking star. Begging for my tongue."
Iris whimpered, burying her face deeper into the vinyl, shame warring with a terrifying coil of arousal tightening low in her belly. The cold water drummed on her back, a counterpoint to the heat flooding her face and core. Then came the heat – wet, insistent, shockingly intimate.
June’s tongue wasn't tentative. It wasn't a lick. It was an invasion. The broad, flat muscle pressed firmly against Iris’s clenched sphincter, probing, demanding entry. Iris cried out, her body instinctively tightening, resisting. "Relax," June commanded, her voice muffled against Iris’s flesh. "Open up for me. Now."
The pressure increased. The tip of June’s tongue, hot and relentless, pushed past the tight ring of muscle. Iris gasped, a sound ripped from deep inside her, as the impossible sensation bloomed – a deep, shocking penetration. June groaned, the vibration traveling straight into Iris’s core. Her tongue worked, circling the tight entrance, then plunging deeper in short, filthy thrusts. The obscene wet sounds filled the cubicle, louder than the shower.
Simultaneously, June’s other hand slid between Iris’s trembling thighs. Fingers, still slick from Iris’s cunt and piss, found her swollen clit without hesitation. They weren't gentle. They rubbed hard, rough circles over the hypersensitive nub, the pressure bordering on painful.
"Fuck!" Iris screamed, her body arching despite the awkward position. The dual assault was overwhelming. The deep, violating penetration of her asshole by June’s relentless tongue, coupled with the brutal stimulation of her clit, short-circuited her thoughts. Pleasure, sharp and jagged, warred with the lingering shame and the sheer shock of the act. Her cunt pulsed, flooding anew, mixing with the water cascading down her thighs.
June’s tongue fucked her asshole with increasing fervor, spearing deep, swirling, retreating only to plunge back in. Her fingers on Iris’s clit were relentless, pinching slightly before resuming the rough, circular torture. "That’s it," June snarled, lifting her head momentarily, her breath hot on Iris’s wet skin. "Take my tongue up your ass, you filthy pregnant slut. Feel how fucking deep I can get?" She drove her tongue in again, hard, burying it to the root. Iris sobbed, her fingers clawing at the vinyl bench.
"You like this, don't you?" June hissed, her voice thick with saliva and exertion. Her fingers sped up on Iris’s clit, the pressure unyielding. "You love having your asshole eaten while I make your cunt drip. Tell me. Tell me how much you fucking love it."
Iris couldn’t speak. Coherent words were impossible. Only choked gasps and ragged moans escaped her. Her body was a live wire, strung taut between violation and ecstasy. The rough fingers on her clit were dragging her mercilessly towards the edge, while the deep, rhythmic penetration of her ass by June’s tongue sent shockwaves through her entire pelvis. Her pregnant belly pressed hard against the bench, the baby shifting restlessly inside her, adding another layer of surreal intensity.
"Come," June commanded, her voice a guttural rasp. She sucked hard on Iris’s asshole, her tongue flattening against the sensitive rim, then spearing deep once more. Her fingers pressed down hard on Iris’s clit, grinding against it. "Come all over my fingers while I tongue-fuck your ass. Do it!"
The command, coupled with the brutal, simultaneous stimulation, was the detonation. Iris’s body seized. A raw, animalistic scream tore from her throat as her orgasm ripped through her, violent and all-consuming. Her cunt clenched violently around nothing, gushing slickness that mingled instantly with the shower spray. Her asshole spasmed wildly around June’s invading tongue. Her legs buckled, held upright only by June’s iron grip on her hips and the pressure against the bench. Wave after wave of blinding, shattering pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling, gasping, utterly broken.
June rode the convulsions, her tongue still working deep inside Iris’s ass, lapping at the clenching muscle, her fingers finally easing their pressure on Iris’s oversensitive clit but still resting possessively against it. She groaned, a sound of deep, primal satisfaction, as she felt Iris’s body surrender completely.
Slowly, the violent tremors subsided. Iris lay slumped over the bench, utterly spent, her breath coming in ragged, wet sobs. The water felt colder than ever. June slowly withdrew her tongue, leaving Iris’s asshole feeling strangely open and exposed. She released Iris’s hips, letting her slide fully onto the bench, a boneless heap. June knelt back on her heels, breathing heavily, water streaming down her face. Her chin glistened. She looked down at Iris’s ravaged form – the trembling legs, the flushed skin, the belly rising and falling rapidly – with eyes that held no remorse, only a dark, sated hunger.
The fan hummed. The water drummed. The steam thinned slightly. Iris couldn't move. Couldn't think. Only feel the deep, aching throb between her legs, the phantom sensation of June’s tongue buried deep inside her, and the chilling certainty that the line between midwife and predator had dissolved completely in the steam. The cold water hit her back, a stark counterpoint to the fading heat of her own degradation. June’s silence felt heavier than any words.