Rage Against the Latrine Ch. 08 – Fetish – Free Sex Story


In December, I wrote a short 3,000 word story about a female punk rock singer who urinated over a fan on stage, partially inspired by real-life events. I enjoyed the tale and played with the characters in my mind over the following days. I said I would write more chapters if there was positive feedback.

There was.

I had plenty of comments and the story fared well in the “scoring.” So, I wrote more.

Out of principle, I never release a chapter until I have written and edited the entire book. But, four extra chapters became six, and then eight, and there are now two dozen chapters on my hard drive. Over 70,000 words of golden showers, female domination and absolute filth with a plethora of additional characters. It’s about 80-90% finished. Mostly, it needs editing.

I hope to complete the entire story before Easter. But I didn’t want everyone who asked for a continuation to wait any longer. I promised I’d write something in the weeks after the first chapter, and it’s been nearly three months. So, here is the next instalment and I will release the remainder as they become ready.

If you have not read the previous chapters, then please do so, as the following story won’t make much sense.

* * *

Natasha’s offer came with a few caveats. I’d never negotiated the ground rules of a relationship before commencing an emotional commitment, but Natasha was unlike any of my other girlfriends.

Her first stipulation was that I had to promise to provide regular cunnilingus. She demanded that “my lips had better spend lots of time on her lips,” and there should be no expectation that Natasha would reciprocate oral Sex as she “hated giving blowjobs.” In three years of their relationship, Gary had received just a single session of fellatio with my new partner and that was – in her words – “one too fucking many.”

Her second requirement was that she really enjoyed dominating her male partners, and that daily golden showers, among other pieces of perverted female domination, were to be anticipated. She wanted a partner who was open-minded about trying new things and keen to expand their horizons. Natasha expected to wear the trousers in the bedroom and our relationship would be based on my submission to her kinky and filthy desires.

Thirdly, both partners were allowed same Sex shenanigans. Natasha was openly bisexual and had no desire to stop enjoying the fruits of her fellow females. I could not be jealous because she had multiple lesbian lovers. She also adored group Sex, and Natasha demanded that I not get possessive if others played with us.

Her final demand was a “what goes on tour, stays on tour” rule. I found this harder to agree to, given what had happened with Samantha, but she didn’t want to relinquish her sexual freedom while the band toured or she travelled. She gave me the same privilege; when we were apart, we could act as if we were single.

After discussing my concerns with her, I relented, and those four rules became the basis of our relationship. In return, the amazing punk rocker promised a rampant sexual adventure.

For the first month, it was a little strange. Natasha had gone from unattainable rock goddess, to co-protagonist in a scandal, to a wild friend, to kinky lodger, to twisted Sex play partner and now to a femdom girlfriend in the space of ten weeks. She spent her days practising her vocals; Faye and Maddison wrote most of their music, and the band’s lead vocalist needed to practise the lyrical arrangement of their new songs.

Faye continued to visit most weekends and some weekdays. I know she originally visited to ensure Natasha was comfortable staying with a strange guy in their remote abode, but I worked long hours and her best friend visiting meant I felt less guilty about leaving Natasha alone. She didn’t move out to the countryside to be lonely, and Faye’s overnight stays ensured that she was not.

The final stage of my European employer’s adoption of the new Stock Exchange API took all of one weekend to go into production, but I promised Natasha that I would spend some of my £15,000 bonus on her if it went well. When the project completed on time and on budget, I used £5,000 to buy her a five-year-old cream three-door Fiat 500. A joyrider had written off her previous vehicle before Christmas and she had not found a suitable car within her constrained insurance payout to replace it.

Her new trendy runaround had scarlet red seats and a cream interior, and while it was not the same size and with the same amount of gadgets as my executive saloon, it gave her the independence to leave my house when she wanted; Sarratt Green did not have any public transport connections, and so she really needed her own vehicle.

She cried, shouted at me, caressed the bonnet, cried again, chastised me, kissed me, kissed the car, spanked me, urinated over me, cried once more, and then took her new wheels for a spin around the Buckinghamshire countryside with her bandmate. Natasha reminded me I was not her charity case, and that the gift was inappropriately generous, but that she loved it wholeheartedly and that the four golden showers I received that evening were her showing her appreciation of my generosity.

Natasha and Faye had talked extensively about Nessie. The cheeky half-Irish, half-Scottish young lady staffed their merchandise stalls at their gigs, and ran their merchandising section on their website. She had originally attended a top public school but, at 13, her parents split up and they sold their country home in the divorce. She moved to a cramped two-bedroom house in North West London and her mother registered her at the local comprehensive. The upheaval in her life scarred the teenage innocent, and the meek girl never completed her “A Levels.” A chance encounter with Faye meant she joined the band on their fifty-date Filthy Bitch tour. She enrolled as a naïve virgin. Three months later, she had whittled away her bedpost with a considerable number of notches of both male and female dominant partners while discovering her sordid submissive side, and was now – two years on – an integral part of band life.

Nessie, who worked part-time at a bar as a senior barmaid-cum-supervisor when she was not on tour, was keen to meet Natasha’s latest beau, especially when their lead singer drove to Ickenham to pick her up from work in her new vehicle.

Thus, at the end of February, there was a weekend when Faye and Nessie visited Natasha and me. Nessie had a welcoming innocence about her. The expression in her slate grey-blue eyes and broad smile was disarming; she spoke with a warm, embracing voice that had delicate twangs of Edinburgh and Dublin. Her long, wavy ginger hair, that cascaded over her shoulder and reached below her breasts, bounced as she flung her arms around my girlfriend and then me.

She was genuinely friendly, excitable, and wonderfully elegant. I could understand how she sold so much merchandise for the band. Her convivial behaviour and sexy body easily unlocked the wallets of the band’s punters.

After I showed Nessie to a spare bedroom, as Faye used Natasha’s old room, I dished up the vegetarian dish from the slow cooker. Nessie purred as I passed her a plate of cooked rice, spicy bean chilli with soured cream, nachos, and guacamole. She spoke excitedly and was more energised and flustered that Natasha had a boyfriend than my partner was.

Her warmth and good spirits were infectious, and the following day, we took our guests for a long walk in Wendover Woods. Faye and Natasha spoke and argued about the new album, so I had time to talk to the elegant redhead who oozed Sex appeal. Immediately, I liked her as I remembered her buoyant attitude from the shows.

After our hike, we walked to our local village pub for a few drinks, and I treated Natasha to her usual round. Nessie and Faye shared two bottles of wine, and the 21-year-old merchandise saleswoman was louder, bouncier and more excited than before.

We stumbled into the fresh air as the Sun had dipped below the horizon, and twilight fell. Nessie wrapped her arms around Faye and burped, stumbling in the half-light, as we walked up the gentle incline on my single-track country road. “Someone’s fuckin’ pissed!” Natasha barked. “What did we fucking do to Nessie when she got rat-arsed last time?”

The young woman giggled. “You stripped me in the hotel bar and had me run back to my room!”

Faye pushed her against the front wall of a cottage’s garden. Nessie gave a half-hearted protest, but against the superior willpower of the two punk rockers, she was powerless as they unzipped her jacket and stripped her top. Her tartan skirt fell to her ankles with a simple flick of Faye’s wrist and my girlfriend placed her lips on Nessie’s, forcing her bum against the cold stone as Natasha’s hands ripped her plain cotton knickers in twain.

It was exciting to see my partner dominate the submissive girl. Natasha radiated unrelenting confidence and sexual control as she tore at the young woman’s underwear; it excited me. Nessie’s red triangle of pubic hair was clear even in the twilight. She shivered, covering her splash of marmalade fuzz with her left hand. “Please!” Nessie moaned.

“Come on,” Faye snapped. “Trot. Trot.”

“It’s cold,” Nessie moaned, but the female dominants chuckled at her pleas. The lane was rarely used, except by the half-a-dozen properties on the narrow track, but the lithe woman fussed. I ogled her naked body in the twilight as she hurried down the poorly surfaced carriageway.

Her nudity aroused. Her vulnerability was sexy. Natasha smacked her exposed rump with a gleeful cry, and Nessie squealed in shock and pain. Faye ran her fingers through Nessie’s thatch and rolled her thumb over her clit, causing the nude submissive to squeal.

The sadists pinched her nipples on her large breasts and squeezed her backside. They used her situation to torment her, and Nessie was already on edge. She was terrified that the Police would swoop into our remote location and arrest her for indecent exposure. She scuttled past Belmont Hall, the last property before mine, and almost ran to the safety of my drive.

“Unlock the annexe,” Natasha demanded. “And fucking get undressed. I want some fun with both of you!”

Faye tugged Nessie’s hand when the young woman attempted to follow my girlfriend into my cottage, and the guitarist guided the merchandise saleswoman towards my side building. Nessie shivered as she walked in, and her eyes widened when she saw the blow-up paddling pool in the centre of the room. I placed my clothes on the worktop of my half-finished kitchenette as Natasha entered the annexe, wordlessly carrying a big wooden box that she deposited on the floor, and a hessian bag that clinked as she strode.

“Get in that fucking pool,” my girlfriend demanded of me. “I need to dump a gallon of piss and it’s going right down your fucking throat!”

I gulped as I laid in the rectangular pool; I stared at the bare ceiling lights and watched my girlfriend shed her jeans so she could perch her thighs on the edge of the inflatable. Her cunt glistened as I focused longingly at it. I knew what would happen and waited expectantly as she shuffled her butt and leaned forward.

A few seconds felt like a lifetime as her arsehole puckered. I took a deep breath, impatiently anticipating the onset of her stream.

And then it came as she sighed in relief; arching in the air and landing on my chin. The golden torrent splashed and rolled over my face and body, soaking my skin and filling my nostrils with the scent of her plentiful pee. I tasted it once more, an acidic tanginess that I knew so well. Her flow weakened as took a mouthful of her watery excretions and felt it dribble over my nose and hair. I gulped, drinking her piss as my cock stiffened in the paddling pool surrounded by waste.

Natasha moved from my vision and barked at Nessie; my girlfriend switched to Nessie’s face, ordering her to “clean up any fucking drips.” I never had time to see Natasha forcing cunnilingus from the young woman, as Faye, with her narrow treasure trail of public hair and sparkling red lips, peered over the side of the inflatable, bottomless. “I gotta piss too.”

The statement was self-explanatory; I watched as her bare legs rested on the sides of the pool and I stared at her splayed cunt. So tidy, so tantalising as she wordlessly let her stream flow while her band mate savoured Nessie’s lips. Lustful groaning from Natasha interspersed with the watery relief from Faye.

Unlike Natasha, Faye always watched as her pale yellow torrent covered my body, hitting my dick, pooling in my belly button, cascading over my chest and splashing over my face. I made eye contact with her, as I tasted her sweet bitterness and I moved my head to catch her nectar between my lips.

Eager to increase my debasement and my humiliation. Faye stared as she defiled me with an act of wanton nastiness and utter debauchery. She grinned as I gulped down her acidic piss, and my body shimmered and sparkled with her golden rain.

The room smelt of pee. I reeked of it. The stench filled my mouth and nostrils, and as Faye’s surge became a dribble, she stood up and swapped places with Natasha.

I knelt in the pool and watched the scene in front of me. My girlfriend opened two bottles of beer from her bag and then took a couple of whips from her box of toys. One was short, with golden hair attached to a stout wooden handle, and the other weapon contained a long, thin, black tail.

Nessie, fresh from providing cunnilingus, was pushed face-first against the wall as Faye and Natasha positioned themselves behind the excitable submissive. The initial strike, with the short horsehair whip, across her pasty buttocks caused her to squeal; the second hit from Faye, with the long, leather tail, made her scream.

The two dominants alternated, leaving strong red streaks on Nessie’s rump as she squirmed in front of the bare wall. I shivered in the wet pool. The piss on my skin dried as they drank beer and dominated the young woman. Natasha applied nipple clamps, and they spanked her exposed butt.

The lesbian domination scene was a delightful sight. Nessie groaned as Faye’s fingers swept over her clit, and brought her to the brink of Orgasm, and then Natasha peppered her abused rump with a volley of quick-fire slashes of the whip.

Faye yanked the nipple clamps from Nessie’s breasts and the young woman howled in pain. “Get in that fucking pool,” my girlfriend demanded of their naked guest. She turned to me with a wicked smile. “Lie down, pervert.”

My cock rose once more. I settled in the cooling liquid, with my feet pressed against the wall of the inflatable. I stared up at the ceiling and watched the figure of Faye drag the young redhead towards me. “Kneel over him,” Faye demanded.

“But I need to go to the toilet,” Nessie cried.

“Good,” Natasha replied, and her eyes locked on mine. “Do you?”

“A bit,” I admitted.

“Fucking excellent,” Natasha giggled. “Then you can shoot cum and piss down her fucking throat.”

“And you can piss does his!” Faye added as she prodded Nessie. I heard a chair scrape along the floor and saw her feet prop up on the walls of the inflatable. “Cheers!” She said and two glasses clinked and Natasha’s bare soles appeared next to Faye’s.

Nessie and I were a Sex show; the lithe frame of the submissive rested on my body as I stared at her peachy butt, and flared slit. My lips locked on her lips as her whorl puckered. She whimpered as my tongue swirled over her clit, eager for her to spray her nectar into my throat.

The innocent girl squealed. Her long hair fell around my waist as her mouth kissed the inside of my thigh. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry!” Her body shivered as a little squirt of her pee landed on my tongue. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

She squirmed, and my piss-soaked hands caressed her bosom. My tongue flicked her button as I suckled gently on her clit. She whimpered and groaned; eager to release and unable to do so. Faye’s teasing had brought her to the edge of Orgasm, and my lips had sent her breathing shallow and hard. Her thighs pressed against my head, shook and quivered, and she relaxed her muscles involuntarily.

A warm stream of watery piss entered my mouth, and she groaned as her asshole tensed and the trickle became a deluge. It flooded over my lips and down my chin as Nessie’s bladder emptied. I could not drink it quickly enough as she fired her pee with the force of a garden hose, coating my face, nose, and hair with her tepid waste. The fierce, acidic, eye-watering smell of urine surrounded me as Nessie rode the aftershocks of her Orgasm.

Suck him off!” Faye demanded, and Nessie’s lips touched the top of my erect prick. It had been almost a year since my last Blowjob – the crazy ex of Samantha – and Nessie’s mouth was a delightful, warm haven of sensuality. Her lips caressed my cock as her tongue swept over my glans. I groaned into her cunt, sweeping my mouth over her wet snatch.

I rolled her nipples between my fingers as she gave me the best Blowjob of my life. Firm actions and yet delicately delivered, my prick ached to explode. I had never cum inside a girl’s mouth before and mumbled into Nessie’s cunt that I was about to peak.

She increased her speed, bobbing on my cock as her tongue worked over my glans and not stopping as my body shivered and a wave of orgasmic pleasure swept over me.

Lay in a paddling pool of cooling pee, piss overwhelmed all of my senses while I gave a twenty-one-year-old submissive oral Sex, and I had never been more turned on. I gulped as I powered through my point of no return and emptied my balls into Nessie’s mouth, who dutifully swallowed.

My cock fell from her lips as she bucked her hips and rode my face, moaning and mewing as my tongue brought her towards Orgasm. “John, why haven’t you fucking pissed?” Natasha demanded, and I steadied myself to release.

I saw Faye push Nessie’s face over my dribbling cock, and I coated my wonderful fellatrix with a pungent stream of my own. Nessie spluttered as she hurtled into her second climax and I drowned her in my piss. I felt guilty as the warm liquid flowed across my thighs, and I knew she had drunk some.

After Nessie had climaxed, we dried ourselves with old towels and carried the inflatable outside to empty it in the cold evening. I used the garden hose to wash it and we brought the pool back into the annexe to dry.

All of us showered, and we came downstairs to have a nightcap in my lounge. “It’s a lovely place you have here,” Nessie told me, as she cuddled up to Faye, who affectionately rubbed her knee. “What do you do if you can afford this and to buy Nats a wee car?”

“I’m in IT,” I replied. “I am one of thirty people accredited to work on the interface between clearing houses and the stock exchange.”

“And that’s well paid?” She asked, and Natasha nodded.

I was reluctant to reveal my salary and just smiled. She sipped at her whisky and twenty minutes later, they went to bed together. Natasha put her head on my lap and beamed at me. “One Blowjob. And three women pissing on you,” she muttered. “That’s a lot of pee to drink.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “And a fair amount of cunt to lick, too!”

“Nessie’s cunt is nice, ain’t it?”

I gulped the last of my whisky and coughed. “Sure,” I agreed.

“Who is nicer? Mine or hers?”

“Of course, yours,” I said without hesitation, and she smiled.

“Then fucking prove it,” she demanded, as she forced herself upright and opened her legs. I ran my lips up and down her wet snatch, and she groaned when my fingers toyed with her Sex. I pressed against her raised ridges inside her cunt, and stroked her G-Spot and she grabbed both sides of my head to press me closer to her sopping Pussy.

She didn’t need to; I wasn’t going anywhere. My lips devoured her feminine muskiness with glee as my tongue danced over her delicious button and I fingered her to a screaming, pulsating climax that filled my lounge with the sounds of sinful decadence. She reached onto the table beside her and passed me a condom.

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