Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Everything she said seemed to have an exclamation point at the end. I couldn’t really put that down to her AI brain, though, because I knew plenty of real girls who talked the same way. Was it part of her impish personality?
I had had to get used to not having privacy in the bathroom, since proper submissive behavior there represented an important part of Institute training. Many masters and mistresses, Master G had told us, enjoyed playing with their bed girls there and using various bathroom privileges as a diverting form of discipline. Still, to have Candy simply invite herself in to watch me on the toilet sent a new flush of heat to my cheeks.
I could hardly protest, though, because I could hardly do anything but positively run, despite the pain from my bottom and my pussy that itself threatened to make me let go of my pee with every wincing step, into the beautiful bathroom and straight to the toilet.
I tried so hard to keep from making any sound as I sank gratefully but still with utter mortification onto the seat and felt my bladder start to let go. I failed: a whimper that became a little moan came out of my throat, so loud in the echoing tiled space of the bathroom that I had to close my eyes as I listened to Candy’s light, rapid footsteps coming nearer and nearer. The rushing of my pee out of me and into the toilet bowl seemed very loud in my ears, but not loud enough to cover the humiliating noises that kept coming from the back of my throat as I felt the relief of letting go at last.
“Oh, you really had to go, didn’t you?” she asked. Even the question seemed to have an implied exclamation point, and I thought I could hear her trying to suppress another giggle. “I’m so lucky—I can make my bladder fill up, if Master wants to play bathroom games, but I don’t think I ever really feel that full.”
Despite my burning cheeks I found I had to open my eyes to look at her as she stood in front of me, her hands clasped in front of her midriff, looking like an impossible blend of doll and human, like a Barbie come to life but not like any animation you’d ever see, even the best—my mind had terrible trouble accepting that she wasn’t real, not that she was. Candy had a very earnest look on her face as she studied me, though I noticed instantly that she had her eyes fixed between my thighs, watching my pee still flowing into the toilet.
My curiosity and confusion gave way to a much simpler feeling: irritation.
“That’s rude,” I snapped. “Looking that way. Don’t you know that?”
CHAPTER 9
Renee
Candy’s eyes rose to meet mine, her face becoming alarmed.
“Yes?” she said, tilting her head a little to the side in a way that I felt certain the Selecta Corporation had designed with the greatest precision to make her look adorable. To my astonishment, her face had also gone red—could she feel embarrassment?
I felt the pressure in my bladder finally start to die down as the flow into the toilet bowl slackened. I felt my forehead crease, and I couldn’t help biting my lip at the mortifyingly pleasant sensation of relief. Even after weeks at the Institute I hadn’t gotten used to the idea that a concubine like me might have to serve her master with this shameful, forbidden element of her sexual submission. Merely to acknowledge that peeing had an erotic dimension for a girl like me had seemed almost too much for Master G to ask of me, and I definitely hadn’t had time to get used to bathroom play, above all with another girl.
“If you know it’s rude,” I demanded, trying to cover over my highly ambiguous reaction and my own hot blush with a glare at Candy, “why did you do it?”
“Oh,” she said, the troubled expression on her face clearing as if she hadn’t at first understood my objection but had just figured it out, “because I couldn’t help it. It turns me on, and I knew it would degrade you even more than being naked and having cane marks on your bottom and wetting yourself, if I looked at your pussy while you peed!”
I blinked. For a moment I couldn’t even understand what Candy meant, because I couldn’t imagine any actual person—one in the real world and not in my dark imaginings—saying what my new bed sister had just said. Then the words made their way fully into my mind, and to my dismay they intensified the shameful pleasure of squeezing out the last few drops of pee from my bladder.
Anger at my body and at Candy for speaking so amazingly insensitively brought my response lashing out of my chest.