Three Fetishes to a T

Here we have, once again, an examination of fetish based on the alphabet. Today, we're looking at stuff that starts with T: Tattoos, trampling, and toilet.

So, a fantasy of three Ts.
The ivy tattoo around her wrist seems like it's growing around the pipe she's holding on to. It's helping her balance, but not supporting much weight. Most of her weight is on my thighs right now.

She twists, grinding the heel of her boot into my skin. The treads pull at my skin, and it feels like something is going to tear. I'd say something, but right now I can't. My mouth is being held open by a gag, so all I can really do is whimper.

Which is just fine by her. She smiles at me, light glinting off the piercing in her lip, and she lifts one of her feet, bringing it up to my nose so I can smell the leather. I want to lick it, but I can't get my tongue out there. And she knows it.

All I can do is smell the leather and look at the handcuffs tattooed on her thigh. She laughs, gives my chin a quick little kick, and starts to get herself ready.

I can't believe I agreed to this. It's torture not being able to say anything, not being able to use my tongue. I feel so helpless lying here, knowing she could easily press one of her feet on my throat, and there's nothing I could do. The rope around my wrists isn't tight enough to dig into my skin, but it isn't loose enough for me to get out either.

I'm tied up, so that I can't stop her. She knows it. That's why she's teasing me.

For a second, she steps off, squatting over my face so I can see the tattoo on the small of her back, so that I wonder if she's going to do THAT. Her ass tenses, and I think she might. But then she stands. She stands and she laughs at me.

"You really are pathetic," she says. Then she puts one foot on my chest and steps back up. I can barely breathe, and I don't care. She grinds her toe into my chest this time, and I whimper again.

Then she laughs. She takes aim. It's hard for a girl to do it standing up. The first splashes hit me in the face, almost directly in my right eye. She laughs.

She isn't embarrassed. She just keeps pissing, moving herself around and grinding her feet into me until the stream goes right where she wants it. Not in my eye, not on my neck, not in my hair. Eventually, she gets it where it's meant to go.

Right in my mouth.