THE BOILER ROOM 2 by Regis

Feature Writer: Regis

Feature Title: THE BOILER ROOM 2

Published: 12.09.2024

Story Codes: WS, Scat

Synopsis: Jill is a thrill-seeker, looking for anything naughty and unacceptable in normal society, and she’s found it in Arthur, a Potty Pro. He found her with a discrete ad that mentioned water sports, which could only mean using human elimination of body waste as play. Little did she suspect how far he intended to take her, in a defecation club called the Boiler Room, where people met to share their unusual kink.

The Boiler Room 2

Chapter Two

Here she was standing in front of complete strangers and was being made to feel nothing more than a mere sex object. She wondered how far he would take her this first evening. For the first time, she noticed a young man in a janitor’s shirt and blue jeans, his fly open and his penis out and erect, his scrotum bulging out below it.

This proved to be the bathroom attendant, a slender black man with an enormous cock. He carried a roll of plastic waste bags and a poop scoop, the kind used by kennels to pick up after dogs in the exercise yard and at dog shows. Her heart leapt when she realized he would be cleaning up after human dogs, some of the people in this room!

“Raise your skirt and spread your knees!” he instructed her. Without hesitation, she did as he said. She had on a pair of dark nylons, held up by a garter belt. Under the belt, she had worn a special pair of silk embroidered panties that had cost her sixty-five dollars. She loved them, knowing they were worth every penny of it.

The silk was woven into a lace pattern, with wide revealing holes everywhere. They were daring and made her feel both high-class and like a slut at the same time. She kept her pubic mound neatly trimmed so that she could wear a bikini, and the only hair she kept was a tiny heart-shaped patch above her vagina.

The point of the heart touched the hood of her clitoris. The waistline of these daring panties dipped so low that more than half of the heart pattern of her lower locks was exposed. She shaved her pubic mound and groin regularly and used Nair to reduce new growth. She had shaved and depilated the area this morning.

She had carefully shaved around the hair heart, and into all the hidden recesses of her groin as well for this special date so that when she finished there was no remaining sign of stubble. Her neatly trimmed pubic locks were a golden brown, a perfect match for her strawberry blonde hair, which she kept long and curled.

The others in the room admired her well-defined figure, and the pretty white panties with enticing glimpses of her tender pink vulva lips visible through the frequent holes in the daringly open lace pattern. Jill was a closet exhibitionist, and Arthur had given her the final push she needed to come out of the closet.

She was ready to rock and roll, in the way promised by these people and what Arthur had told her. This was a place to be admired by others, according to what Arthur had told her, where people let themselves be seen, and as they did, performed naughty acts, as proven by the deep kitty litter spread on the floor.

The very thought of being naughty in public raised her blood pressure. People could already see the most intimate parts of her gorgeous body, and she was certain they would get to see more before the night was done. She could feel her clit quiver at the thought and anticipated it might even be stroked as the night progressed.

“Let’s see you sprinkle, but not too much,” Arthur said.

Jill felt a shocking thrill at what he asked of her. Or was it a command? Were they already at the water sports stage? She knew what he required her to piss, right through her expensive panties! She obeyed promptly, letting out a brief burst that wet her panties.

The spritz of her pee sent drops of golden jewels winging down to the Kitty Litter covering the floor. She had practised this kind of urinary control since she was a little girl, peeing directly into a special cup she kept hidden behind books on a shelf, and had no trouble in turning off the brief venting of her full bladder.

Gleaming amber drops still formed on the lace panties, dripping one at a time into the kitty litter on the floor, where it was absorbed, all of it disappearing. She had pissed in front of all these strangers, who cheered her for doing it. This was so audacious she could hardly breathe. She was acting like a piss-slut, and loved it.

“Does anyone have a slave who would like to clean the lady’s panties before they stain?” Arthur asked. Two women nudged the men beside them, and the pair of subservient males quickly dropped to their knees, one behind and one in front of her, and brought their tongues into play to taste her warm essence.

What would have disgusted her under different circumstances gave her a thrill. She was performing as a cunt. This place was mystical and wove its effect around her. This was incredibly degrading, first of all for her, but even more so for the men, and it was also the right thing to do in a place like this.

She quivered at the thrill of the twin warm male tongues licking the still-warm urine stains from her panties. She could feel their moist warmth as they pressed against her thinly covered pubic mound, and the moving tongues eagerly brushed and felt her flared flowered cuntlips through the ample holes in the lace.

It was intoxicating for her to be serviced with such intimacy. She had no inkling of how intimate things would get before the evening was over, but she was a willing player, no matter what she was asked to do. Jill heard the tinkling of glasses and saw two women busy building a steep pyramid-shaped tower of small liqueur glasses.

They had cleared a circle in the Kitty Litter on the floor and had stacked the pyramid two feet high. She had heard of golden cocktails and had tried it herself many times since she was a youth, but only with her own urine, collected in the privacy of the bathroom, or when she was young, in the palm of her hand under the covers in her bed.

She had never dreamed that other people would actually want to drink her pee. She wondered if she would be required to drink some of her own urine. Or maybe that of someone else! This whole idea was so exciting she could hardly stand it. Without instructions, she removed her damp panties, and holding them by a dry corner, moved toward the stack of tiny glasses.

“Stop right now!” Arthur shouted. “You are not to do anything unless you are told.”

He moved to an armless padded chair and sat down.

“Across my lap!” he said.

Jill dropped her panties on the floor and moved over to his lap. She lay face down across his knees, lifting her skirt to bare her buttocks. She realized she was to be spanked.

“Slide forward, so that your chin and shoulders touch the floor!” he commanded.

She slid forward, and tilting her head back as far as she could, managed to take some weight on her shoulders, although her chin seemed to take most of the strain. Thank God for the kitty litter, which although uncomfortable, was not as hard as a floor.

It was very uncomfortable with her throat pressed in the absorbent material, but she grimaced and braced herself in this unusual position to be slapped. She could smell some recent shit that had been deposited there. Her full breasts flopped forward in the lightweight bra so that they too touched the floor material.

Her blouse fell loose from the belt of her skirt and ballooned so that her tight tummy and the base of her breasts were revealed. The others formed a large circle to view the public spanking. Her upper legs crossed his lap, and her buttocks were bent at an angle that made her shaved pubic mound bulge between them, fully accessible.

This was unfortunate for Jill because now her genitalia could share in the pain of the spanking. She knew from the careful wording of his ad that Arthur was into spanking, and she had consented to it in their first exchange of letters. She had, in the meantime, forgotten that this was likely to be part of a nasty part of the play they did.

She had no idea how far he would take it, but from how he had introduced the club, she was confident he would stop when she had reached her limit. He’d assured her when they’d come in, that was how this club worked. It had been years since she had been spanked when she’d been only ten, but now she found the idea arousing.

By shifting her weight forward so that she touched the kitty litter on the floor, Arthur had put her in a much more helpless position than simply lying across his knee. She could not use her arms for anything but to grasp his legs, and she did not incline to do so. He had a great deal of experience with this kind of discipline-play.

In this awkward position she was also unable to sense the position of his arms or their movement, so had no sense of when to expect a smack on her bare bottom. The first one startled her, as it happened sooner than she expected, and she was just as surprised at how much it hurt her. He had favored the far buttock with that blow, and the pain traveled down her thigh and up her back.

It was accompanied by a sharp sound that told her how solid his contact with her smooth bottom flesh had been. A small squeak escaped her lips, and embarrassed her. She decided she did not want to let the others know how much these sharp slaps hurt. The second landed on her other buttock, and this time she involuntarily yelped.

Memories of her daddy pulling down her panties and spanking her bare bottom flooded back, and she remembered how her tears had always betrayed her. Surely now that she was an adult, she would be able to handle this. The third blow told her how wrong she was. She was a big girl now but was receiving big slaps, and they hurt more than those she remembered.

This blow crossed both buttocks, lower this time so that it also caught the parted mound of her vulva. God, this guy was hurting her! Jill’s face blanched as she remembered that her father too had spanked her cunnie when she was a child. In all the years the memory of that sordid detail had been solidly blanked out.

Now the memory rushed back, as she was being spanked for the first time since then, and her cunt was hit, an intentional target of the sordid spanking. Arthur knew what he was doing, and how to make a girl experience the worst of being struck on her bare buttocks. She could feel her ass cheeks burn as if they were turning red.

She next received a series of rapid sharp slaps, all of them stinging her spread pussy lips as much as they did her bottom. She openly cried out with each blow now, and her tears started to flow. In moments she was sobbing and crying aloud, but because it thrilled her, it did not occur to her to tell Arthur to stop.

He was in charge, and she was being justly punished for not completely obeying his instructions. After half a dozen more well-placed stinging slaps, he stopped the spanking and told the sobbing girl to get to her feet. She did as he said, glad that her short skirt was long enough to cover her tanned backside.

She was certain from the radiating glow of where his blows had landed that her bum was beet red from the painful punishment it had received. Jill decided she would not move without his instructions from now on. This spanking had hurt too much, enough that she was not interested in receiving another for a long time, if ever.

This spanking not only hurt her so very much, but it also crushed her pride. She felt so humiliated when he struck her that she wished the others could not see her being disciplined. That kind of mastery would likely be more acceptable if delivered in private, so that other people, all strangers, would not know how brutally he treated her.

THE END OF CHAPTER TWO