Rich, well-dressed and handsome, John got a lot of attention at night-clubs from silly teen girls. Just turned 18, dressed up in slutty club dresses that they thought made them look mature, with their soft pink lipstick and long fake eyelashes, he would give them just enough encouragement to draw them near the part of the bar where he lounged and drank his drinks, before shutting them out completely.
“You’re too young,” he would tell them – although he discreetly made sure that they *were* legal. “You’re too innocent.”
And then they would fall over themselves trying to prove how mature and slutty they were. Some descended to the point of flashing their tits at him, or giving him a lapdance. One memorable girl tried to fellate his cock through his pants in full public view.
Eventually, he would “relent”, and take them back to his hotel. He would tease them that they probably weren’t mature enough to satisfy his needs – that they were too boring and prudish.
“Try me,” they would say – scared, nervous, a little horny, and determined to prove that they were a big girl now, that they were a sexy, empowered woman who he might want to fuck.
And he would smile, because they were about to go through five stages of degradation, that would, in his view, make them a much better woman from that point forward.
Stage one – he would tell them to strip. All the way naked. Slowly. Sexily. He would watch. Sometimes this made the girls feel sexy. They would smile, enjoying his gaze, enjoying performing for him. Other times they would feel awkward, vulnerable, a little afraid. He liked that too, knowing the stupid little sluts were exposing their tits and cunt for him even as their brains told them they shouldn’t.
When they were nude, he would pick up their clothes and take them to another room, then come back. He didn’t explain. They never protested – although their eyes looked nervous, not knowing where their clothes were, not being sure how they might get them back.
Then he would tell them his kink. He wanted to piss in their mouths.
Often they would balk at this. Most times, he could get them to change their mind simply by telling them that he understood, that he had thought all along that they were kind of frigid, that he was sorry for assuming that they were grown up instead of a child, that they could leave immediately. He wouldn’t give them their clothes, of course, nor give any suggestion they could retrieve them.
He would watch them blush with shame from his insults. He would watch them think about asking for their clothes, sizing up what would happen if he said no, picturing trying to get home while completely nude. He would watch them decide that maybe they *were* grown up enough to drink piss, and tell him in stuttering voices, blushing, that they could give it a try.
Other times he had to be more explicit that they weren’t getting their clothes back, and berate them for cockteasing him, for leading him on, after he had *told* them that they weren’t interested in what he wanted. He would stand between them and their clothes and yell at them to get out – naked, obviously – until they collapsed, and started to cry, and begged to be able to stay and drink his piss.
He would always – always – get them to clearly beg him for the privilege of drinking his piss. It was important.
Stage two was the stage where they thought that drinking his piss wasn’t so bad. Those who hadn’t had to be coerced would give him a slutty little smile as they knelt in front of him. Others would look nervous and scared. But they would open their mouth, and he would rest the tip of his cock on their lower lip, and begin to piss.
Stage three was when they discovered that they *didn’t* want to drink piss. The taste was too acrid, too fast, and they felt themselves starting to gag. He would watch the first flicker of uncertainty pass across their face, and watch for the moment where they were about to flinch away from his cock, even if it meant getting bathed in his piss. That moment of realisation was beautiful, and he loved it every time. It was the sign for him to take them to stage four.
Stage four involved grabbing their head by the hair and pulling the bitch tight against his groin, his cock deep in her mouth. He would pull her so tight her nose was mashed shut against his stomach, giving her no choice but to convulsively swallow the urine filling her mouth. She would struggle, and that just made it sweeter. He would piss and piss until his bladder was empty, and then he would let his cock harden and begin face-fucking her until he reached a satisfying orgasm and ejaculated into her mouth.
Stage five was the best, though. Stage five involved waiting until the bitch had stopped crying and was semi-coherent. That was when he would show her the video he had filmed of her begging to drink piss, and then initially choosing to be a human toilet, and then being face-raped. He would take her phone from her and select out the numbers of her friends and family – or else find her on social media and take note of her friends and followers – and speculate on which ones might enjoy seeing the video.
She had two choices, he told her. She could leave here, and he would keep the video secret, and in return, every two days she would send him a new video of herself nude, kneeling and masturbating while a man pissed into her mouth and she swallowed. Or he could publish the video to her social media platforms right now.
He reckoned that in the last year he had converted more than 60 girls into piss-drinking sluts, who had become used to their roles as toilets for men. The huge number of videos they sent him uploaded directly to a website that was making him a considerable amount of money. He didn’t know if any of the girls had worked out they were worldwide piss-porn stars yet, and didn’t much care – what could they do about it?
The biggest joy, of course, was watching the girls’ reluctance to drink piss fade over time, as associating masturbation with urine gradually conditioned them to become aroused by being used as a toilet. The look of shame on a girl’s face as she drank piss – shame not because she was a toilet, but because she was *aroused* by it – was really its own reward…
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When John trained girls to drink his piss, they would go through five stages on their way to accepting their new role. - (Read it here.)