Blueberry Pt. 01

I entered the room; she was kneeling on the floor with her head down, her hands pressed together on her knees, and her seating position was exactly what I wanted. She didn't know who I was; I had told them not to tell her, only to instruct her on how to sit. I walked toward the wardrobe in the room to take off my clothes. Hearing the sound of my footsteps, she began to raise her head to look at me. With a gentleness in which seriousness was evident, I said: "Keep your head down." She returned her head to its previous position and let out a short, audible breath through her nose. I took off my shawl and coat and hung them on the hanger. I was wearing tight jeans with a black tank top. I untied my hair tie, and my curly hair fell around me. I looked at her; she wasn't wearing a headscarf, but the open-front coat she wore over her T-shirt was still on.

I asked: "Didn't they tell you to take off your coat?"

She started to raise her head to answer when she suddenly caught herself, kept her head down, and said: "No. Should I take it off?"

-- "You have to say 'No, Mistress'!"

-- "No, Mistress, should I take it off?"

-- "You cannot ask me questions. You only do whatever I tell you. If I ask you a question, you only answer with 'Yes, Mistress' and 'No, Mistress'."

I paused and asked: "Do you understand?"

-- "Y... es, Mistress."

She was pressing her fingertips a little hard against her legs, which showed I was putting a bit of pressure on her. My heart softened a little. I continued in a gentler tone: "Take off your coat. Keep your head down, and don't move your legs."

She brought her hands up and took off her coat; the bottom of her coat got caught underneath her and she had to lift herself up a bit to take it off. She stayed hesitant in that position, I muttered a "good girl" in my mind, and then said: "It's fine. Leave it like that. Put your hands back where they were."

Without a word, she let go of the coat and placed her hands back on her legs.

-- "I didn't hear your 'Yes, Madam'!"

She let out a short, audible breath showing she was startled, and whispered softly: "Yes, Madam."

-- "Louder!"

Pressing her fingertips harder against her legs while her pale face flushed slightly, she said: "Yes, Madam."

I stepped closer. She was wearing fairly tight trousers and a navy-blue and white T-shirt. Her short hair had golden blonde highlights and was neat on her head. I stood beside her to one side, such that my waist and hip were next to her head and ear. I stroked her short hair and said: "Do you know how valuable you are that I accepted you?" I pulled a strand of her hair and continued: "Even though your hair is short?"

She bit her lip and, pressing her hands harder, said: "Yes, Madam."

-- "Bend forward, put your palms flat on the floor, keep your legs still."

She bent forward a bit and placed her palms flat on the ground. The curve of her lower back was a sight to behold. I said: "Lift your head up. Make the curve of your back more visible."

She obeyed and held her head higher. I bent down and traced her spine with my finger. How beautiful this girl was. Every single piece of her body seemed to be made of gold. More desirable than gold, more beautiful, more radiant...

I sat down on my heels on the floor and began taking off her T-shirt. She said nothing, good girl...

When I reached her head, I said: "Return to your previous position, bring your hands up so I can take off the T-shirt."

Obediently, she complied. I slipped the T-shirt off her head first and then her arms. I told her to straighten her arms out to both sides, parallel to her shoulders. She did. I stroked her arms; her skin had a special texture, as if it were caressing my fingertips. I ran my hands all the way from her fingers to her shoulders, then stroked her armpits, and moved toward her tattoo and collarbone. Her breathing had quickened slightly and her stomach contracted. I grabbed the straps of the sports tank top she wore instead of a bra and pulled them up, saying: "I'm taking it off."

She let out two short, audible breaths in a row, and asked respectfully: "May I keep it on, Madam?"

Standing behind her, I placed my hand in front of her neck, pressed down slightly, and said: "Didn't I say you cannot ask questions?"

-- "Yes, Mistress."

When she spoke, I could feel the movements in her neck. This girl was mine... I released her neck and waited for her to take it off. Hesitantly, she began to raise her hands. She grabbed the bottom of the tank top and quickly pulled it off with a scrunched-up face. I noticed her discomfort. Gently, I took the tank top from her hand and placed it in the corner of the room. I stood a little further away from her to get a good look at her and asked: "You don't like them?"

She shook her head side to side.

-- "Didn't I say speak, good girl?"

-- "N... no, Madam."

-- "Say 'No, Mistress'..."

She pressed her hands harder than ever against her thighs and said: "No, Mada... no, Mistress."

She was a smart girl. But due to being pressured and sexually aroused, she was distracted. She couldn't concentrate. I decided to tease her a little.

I asked again: "So you said you don't like them?"

-- "No, Mistress."

-- "Why don't you like them?"

-- "B... because. No, Madam."

I gave a short laugh and said: "Very good. Good job remembering you can't say anything other than yes and no."

I continued in a gentler tone: "Well, answer now. Why?"

-- "B... because..."

-- "Because what?"

-- "They are feminine. I don't like them. I like it flat under clothes. They don't sexually arouse me."

-- "Mhm, it's great that you know yourself so well."

Then I continued: "I'm not going to use them sexually. I told you to take it off because I want to see and look at your whole body. When you're mine, I have the right to see every part of you, from the palms of your hands to even inside your vagina."

She let out a quick, audible breath. I went on: "I don't see those as feminine. They are part of your body, a part of you. You know what I mean."

She nodded. I ignored the fact that she didn't say "Yes, Mistress" and said: "They are neither feminine nor masculine. They are a part of you and a member of your body."

Her hands were pressed a bit firmly on her thighs, but she seemed more at ease. I moved toward her and said: "Do you still hate them?"

-- "No, Mistress."

I placed my hand under her chin, slowly lifting her head up. When her eyes met mine, she looked at me with surprise and wide eyes. I said: "Don't lie."

She was so surprised she couldn't speak; she recognized me.

Her lips moved, but she couldn't talk. I released her chin. I let her look at me. In front of her gaze, I took off my tank top. Involuntarily, she looked at my breasts. Then her gaze went back to my face. I knelt down. I moved closer to her. My breasts were almost right in front of her face. I unclasped my bra strap, and one of my freed breasts brushed against her face. She shivered. I lifted my breasts with my hand and showed them to her. Her hand tightened on her thigh, full of desire. I stood up from the floor. I began unzipping and unbuttoning my trousers. She watched me with confusion. My zipper and button came undone, revealing my pink panties. I put my hand under her chin and, staring straight into her eyes, said: "Do whatever I say, okay? Be my angel, ok?"

Dazed and stunned, she looked at me. I took off my trousers. Then, before her bewildered and lust-filled gaze, I took off my panties.

I stood in front of her, placed my hand on her head, brought her head close to my genitals, and said: "Sniff it!"

Obediently, she moved her head further forward and took a deep sniff. Then I eased the pressure of my hand and let her pull her head back. She raised her head and looked at me. I asked: "What did it smell like?"

Staring straight into my eyes, she said: "Rose!"

Once again, I used my hand to bring her head close to my genitals and said: "Take them with your teeth, eat and chew them, but do not swallow."

Confused, she stared at my genitals. I brought her head closer to the slit of my genitals. Finally, her eyes caught the edge of the rose petal nestled in my slit, and she understood what I meant. She bit it with her teeth, pulled it out, and started chewing. I said: "There's another one!"

She stuck out her tongue and used it to part the lips of my genitals. The tip of her tongue brushed against my sensitive spot twice, causing me to sigh. Finally, she found the rolled-up petal lodged between the clitoris and the lip of my genitals and scooped it out with her tongue. The rolled-up petal lay precariously on her tongue, and as she pulled her tongue back into her mouth, I expected the petal to drop to the floor at any second. But as always, luck was on this human's side, and the petal easily slipped into her mouth.

I grabbed her chin in my hand and held her head up. All the while she was chewing, our eyes remained locked on each other. She chewed slowly, swallowing her saliva mixed slightly with my juices and the taste of rose. After chewing for a couple of minutes, I let go of her chin, walked over to a cabinet inside the room, and brought out a bowl. I held it out in front of her mouth and said: "Spit it all out in here. Try not to leave any rose left in your mouth."

She lowered her head and began spitting into the bowl. I placed my hand on her head and stroked her hair. Finally, after she finished spitting thoroughly, she raised her head. I looked inside the bowl; it was full of chewed-up, spit-laden rose pieces. I glanced at her; saliva remained around her mouth, and a tiny piece of rose was visible on her lower lip... My dirty girl.

I held the bowl a bit aside, grabbed her chin with my other hand, and said: "Open your mouth."

She opened it, but the inside wasn't clearly visible. Gently pressing her chin, I said: "Wider!"

She opened it as wide as she could. I slipped my index finger slightly into her mouth and pressed the right side outward to get a good look inside. A little bit of rose remained in her mouth, stuck to her teeth, but it was clear she had tried. With innocent eyes, she stared at the ceiling. I pulled my finger out of her mouth and said: "Get up and stand."

She closed her mouth and obediently stood up. She brought her feet together, dropped her head, and brought her hands forward to rest on her thighs. Good girl...

I stepped close to her and whispered lustfully in her ear: "Now take off your pants and underwear."

She paused for a moment before getting to work. She unbuttoned her trousers, pulled down the zipper, took them off, and then moved on to her panties. She shot me a look, and I warned her: "Keep your head down!"

She dropped her head and hesitantly stripped the underwear off her body. Her pale genitals gleamed. She was very pretty and lovely. I gestured for her to come closer. I placed my index finger on the top of her genital slit and asked: "You need to pee, right?"

She slightly sucked her lower lip in out of embarrassment and said: "Yes, Mistress."

I brought the bowl full of spit-covered roses closer and ordered: "Spread your legs, a bit wider than your shoulders."

She did. Then I slid my hand between her legs. I parted the lips of her genitals so her urine wouldn't splash everywhere. I held the bowl underneath her genitals. It was a medium-sized bowl, about a fifth of which was already filled with spit. I said: "Pee enough so the bowl fills up, then hold your pee. You must not pee more than the bowl's capacity, understood?"

She nodded. I pinched the edge of her lip, causing her to let out a loud gasp and jump slightly, and she said: "Yes, Mistress."

With that jolt, her thigh bumped the bowl, nearly sending it crashing to the floor. I tapped her thigh and said: "I'm not being too harsh on you; if a tiny bit of your pee spills out of the bowl, it's fine. But look down well and try to pee into the bowl. Try not to spill too much of your pee on my hand."

She raised her head and looked at me. I looked back. She asked: "Why, Mistress?"

-- "Why what?"

-- "Why don't you put the bowl on the floor? You're holding it yourself... your hand will get dirty."

With my other hand, I stroked her cheek and said: "Nothing about you is dirty... It's not pure, but it's not dirty. If your genitals are peed on, my hand is too, and we'll wash them together later."

While stroking her cheek, I continued: "I didn't bring you here to humiliate you. You are different from my other slaves. You came here to become an angel."

She stared at me. It was clear she hadn't understood my meaning. Even I couldn't explain it too much. It was something she had to understand and feel. I stared at her until finally she dropped her head and, looking at the bowl, began to urinate. I had instructed them to give her a large bottle of water to drink before entering the room and tell her to finish all of it. I knew she had drunk it all and her bladder was full of urine right now.

At first, a little splashed onto my hand. But most of it poured into the bowl. A bit also splashed onto her thighs. The bowl was gradually filling up. I glanced at her face and saw she was focused. I was waiting for her to hold her urine. It seemed very difficult for her. Finally, as the bowl was about to brim over, she bit her lip and held it in.

I smiled and lifted the bowl up. I told her: "Close your legs."

She obeyed and stared into my eyes while biting her lower lip. I looked at her with kindness. Then I cast my gaze down at the bowl. I placed my hand on her cheek beside her face and, gently stroking her cheek with my finger, said: "There's still a bit of rose left in your mouth. You're going to take small sips of your urine, swish it around in your mouth, and spit it out until they are washed clean."

She stared at me with wide, frightened eyes. I paused and continued: "You mustn't swallow it, okay? Not even a tiny bit of it should go down. You must not direct it toward your throat."

She was still looking at me with terrified, stressful eyes. I had truly challenged her. I asked: "Can you do it?"

Slowly, she nodded. I removed my hand from her cheek and gave her a light slap. She answered: "Yes, Mistress."

-- "Are you sure? You mustn't swallow it!"

-- "Yes, Mistress, I'm sure. I'll try my best."

I stroked the spot I had slapped and said: "Good girl!"

I released her face and brought the bowl in front of her mouth. I said: "We'll do the first one as a test. Take a tiny sip and hold it in your mouth for just thirty seconds."

She brought her head forward close to the bowl. I was holding the bowl a bit lower so she would be forced to bend down slightly to drink. I placed my hand on her head and stroked her short hair. I reassured her: "It's nothing. Take a very small sip. You don't need to swish it around in your mouth."

Obediently, she opened her lips and put her mouth against the edge of the bowl. She took a tiny sip of her urine. She raised her head. Her mouth was full, giving it a bloated appearance. I placed my palm under her chin, stared into her eyes, and whispered: "Good girl..."

I slowly and caressingly withdrew my hand, pointed to the bowl with my eyes, and said: "Spit it out!"

She leaned over and spat into the bowl. A tiny piece of rose was in her spit. I stroked her head and said: "Another sip."

Once again, she drank from her urine. She raised her head and looked at me. I said: "Slowly, without swallowing, swish it around in your mouth."

While locking eyes with each other, she moved it back and forth inside her mouth for a bit. Then she gazed at the bowl, silently asking for permission to spit with her eyes. I blinked and gave her the green light. She lowered her head, drew close to the bowl, and spat.

Before she could take another sip, I said: "Bring your head up!"

She raised her head. I cupped her chin in my hand and said: "Open your mouth!"

She opened it as wide as she could. I looked inside; all the rose pieces were gone. I smiled and said: "You may close it!"

Quietly, she closed her mouth. I bent down and placed a kiss on her urine-soaked lips. Her eyes sparkled. This kiss carried a special sense of pride and reward. I didn't kiss just anyone's urine...

I took her hand, and together we headed toward the bathroom. She was the only girl I played this game with...

As we entered the bathroom, I guided her toward the toilet bowl. I placed my hand on the back of her neck and pushed her forward. When we reached the toilet, I put my hand on her back and shoved her forward slightly. I said: "Sit down on all fours, with your shins resting on the footrests of the toilet."

With her head down, she obeyed and sat down on the toilet bowl. Her shins rested completely on the footrests. Then she bent forward and placed her palms on the floor. She was on all fours. I said: "Put your forearms on the floor too."

She raised her head and looked at me, then did it. Now both her shins and forearms were on the ground, and her face was close to the floor. I told her: "Lower your head further and stick your tongue out, put it on the bathroom floor."

She hesitated for a brief moment, gave a small twitch, and then did it. My good girl...

I ordered: "Do the rest of your peeing."

She started. At first, she urinated in spurts, then easily let it flow. When she finished, I waited for her to get up, but she didn't; her tongue remained on the floor. Good girl... she had learned well just how obedient she needed to be.

I stepped forward, stroked her back, and said: "Stand up."

She stood up and faced me. I led her to the sink and told her to wash her mouth thoroughly. She glanced at me and began rinsing her mouth. Her tongue was still sticking out and hadn't been pulled back inside. After splashing water onto her tongue, she reached for the liquid soap, but I said: "No need for soap. I told them to put plastic wrap on the bathroom floor..."

She smiled at me with her eyes and continued washing the rest of her mouth with water. I stroked her back and comforted her. It was clear I wouldn't let my daughter lick the floor of a public restroom... At our own house, it was one thing. A public restroom...

After she finished washing her mouth, I pulled out some wet wipes from the bathroom cabinet and told her to clean herself up. She took the wipes from me and bent down to do it. She wiped around her genitals and cleaned herself up, but she couldn't do it very well.

I pointed to the toilet bowl and said: "Sit a bit further back from it, stretch your legs out, and place them on either side. Sit in a way that your buttocks are a bit forward and right above the bowl, so when I pour water on your genitals, it drops into the bowl."

She looked at me and moved toward the toilet. She sat a bit further back and then scooted forward. When her genitals were almost right above the bowl, I said: "Good. Open your legs and place them on both sides of the bowl."

Her legs, which were slightly apart, opened completely and rested on either side of the bowl.

I moved toward the hose, picked it up, and brought the nozzle close to her genitals. I turned the tap on low pressure and began washing her. She stared straight ahead without looking at herself. She was being humiliated... I looked at her and said: "Look at yourself while I'm washing you."

She pulled her gaze away from nowhere and looked into my eyes. I said: "You couldn't clean yourself properly, little one."

Her chin quivered and her lips moved; she started to say something, but stopped. I looked at her in a way that made her understand she needed to look down at herself as quickly as possible. Her eyes dropped downward.

I began washing her. First, I stroked her genitals. Then I parted her lips and sprayed water thoroughly. She had secreted some fluid from arousal and it was sticky. It clung to my finger. I washed her completely. I touched every part of her well, washing away the urine and fluids that had leaked from inside. She was breathing heavily and, amidst the humiliation, she was aroused.

When she was thoroughly clean, I turned off the tap and stood up. I placed my wet hand on her hair and shook her head slightly. I said: "You can stand up, little one."

She stood up and stood obediently in front of me, dropping her head and waiting for my next command.

I took her hand and we left the bathroom. I told her: "Sit in the middle of the room in the same position as before! Don't keep your hands flat on your legs! Bend forward a bit and put your palms on your knees! Keep your legs a bit apart!"

With her head down, she sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, spaced her legs apart slightly, then leaned forward a bit and placed her palms on her knees. Good girl...

I walked toward her, placed my index finger under her chin, and lifted her head up. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I said: "Open your mouth."

She opened her mouth slightly. I said: "Wider! Stick your tongue out."

Without breaking eye contact, she obeyed. I stroked her hair and stepped a little closer. I placed my legs on either side of hers and brought my genitals close to her mouth. I said: "Lick!"

Her eyes smiled. She brought her tongue close to me. The tip of her tongue touched my vagina and licked upward all the way, so that the tip passed right over my clitoris. I placed my hand on her head and held her right there, saying: "Well done, good girl."

Suddenly, I firmly slammed her head against myself; her nose pushed into the top of my genitals and her mouth hit my slit. I held her like that and stroked her hair. Then I eased the pressure of my hand and pulled her head back by tugging on her short hair. She looked into my eyes; there was lust in her eyes and something strange. Something new that belonged only to her. Something I always saw only in her gaze.

I said: "Put your lower lip below your clitoris, your upper lip above it, keep the clitoris inside your mouth, and press your nose against the top of my genitals."

She stared into my eyes for a few seconds and then began doing it. First, she placed her lower lip on the clitoris and then moved it lower so it sat beneath the clitoris. She placed her upper lip above it and pressed her nose against the top of my genitals.

I whispered: "Good girl..."

I pressed her head against my genitals and adjusted her nose so she couldn't breathe. I commanded: "Lick the clitoris. You cannot breathe until I come."

Suddenly, she began licking fast and furious. She licked tiny, rapid licks. She knew I wasn't joking and that I would drive her to the edge of death. She licked so much that I grew close. I watched her. Her head was positioned directly against my genitals, and I was inside her mouth. Her bare back shifted slightly during her licking. Her neck had a slight curve from bending forward, making her look so beautiful... My Angel.

Gradually, lust filled my being. While playing with her short hair, I came inside her mouth. I calmed down. I allowed her to pull her head away and breathe. With an open mouth, she panted and breathed in. My juices were visible on her lower lip and chin. I placed my hand on the back of her neck, pushed her down, and said: "Now it's your turn..."