Don't Go Into The Woods Part 3 The Arrival

Mortified I answered, “Yes Sir.”

“Well, when I ran out of toilet paper she offered to let me use her tongue. You might say she’s a ‘wet wipe.’ And I think she enjoyed it,” the man said.

Turning towards me he rhetorically asked, “Did you?”

He knew my only answer could be, “Yes Sir.”

One of the other men said we should make a “Call the Wet Wipe Girl” sign and hang it in the bathroom.

“Go wash your face and show me a curtsy before you leave.”

I curtsied and said, “Thank You,” and went to the sink in the kitchen to wipe his poop off with tears falling down my cheek. I had sunk so low since I had gone on my vacation.

Chapter Six: Sinking Deeper Into Depravity

After that incident humiliation became a part of the program. One morning I was standing in the kitchen when one of the men came in. He had me turn around facing him and lift my skirt. He unzipped his fly and told me not to move or utter a sound.

And then he started peeing. His urine splattered on my ‘clit’ as he called it and the warm pee soaked my panty liner and cascaded down on the floor. When he was done he had me lower my skirt and wait there.

While I stood there I thought about how many times I had cum in my panties when one of the men rubbed me there or that I could make myself cum while being spanked. Who was I? What had I become? Between being sickened by what was done to me I had also become aroused by command.

Five minutes later two of the men came into the kitchen. They looked at the puddle and then me.

“Lift your skirt girl,” one of the men instructed.

I did as I was told and also answered, “Yes Sir.”

“Look at that, she peed herself,” the other said and then asked me if I had as I lifted my skirt and he also said, “Her panties are dark yellow stained.”

This all led to what happened two nights ago.

“Come here,” he said.