In the morning Caroline came back, but she knocked on the regular, front door again. I opened it, a little alarmed to see her there, and wondering if this was when she would blush, apologize for her drunken outburst, or else forget entirely about the incident of the night before.

But instead she looked deep into my eyes and took a step closer to me.

"That wasn't a dream last night, was it...slave?" she purred.

"I-I-..." I stammered.

"Tell me," she said, drawing her face close to mine. "Was that a dream?"

"N-no."

"It really happened, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"Do you want it to happen again?" She stared at me.

"Y-yes," I breathed. I was so, so powerfully hard.

"You're my little toilet slave, aren't you?" she reached out, wound her fingers into my hair just next to the temple - gently, but with a hint of threat for what she could do.

"Y-yes," I squeaked.

"Tell me properly what you are," she commanded. The door to my dorm was still open; we had backed up a few paces into my room, but were not in privacy in any way.

"I am...your...slave," I said, quietly and slowly.

"Yes?" she prompted.

"Your toilet slave."

"Say it again, properly," she drawled.

My eyes darted toward the open door, and she followed my gaze. "I'll close it...when you say it," she said in a low voice.

"I am your toilet slave," I said, meeting her gaze until I broke eye contact on the last word. I dropped my chin and looked at her feet. Behind her, the door slammed.

"Good slave," she said. "You can look at me. I want you to look at me."

She was wearing another skirt today, and - she shimmied it up over her hips while I watched - nothing underneath.

"Lick my cunt," she commanded me.

I kneeled immediately, and leaned forward, and, with the wide flat tongue like she had shown me, licked her from stem to clit.

"Mmm," she hummed, a little nose of pleasure. "Keep licking, slave."

I did so, keeping my tongue fully on her, giving broad slow lingering licks while she hummed and sighed.

Suddenly - I tasted something familiar, and realized that she was releasing, dribbling a little into my mouth while I licked her slowly. Luckily the dorm floor was tiled, so this would wipe up easily. And she wasn't even pissing that much, just a slow leak that I licked clean off her.

"Good slave," she said when she was finished, and then she took a step back and smoothed her skirt down.

I stared after her; I didn't feel finished. I wanted more. But she flounced out, with nothing more than a, "bye, slave."

And so I found a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle to clean the mess on my floor before heading to breakfast, and the next day of orientation activities.

xxx

By the end of the day, I was vibrating with the desire to see her. We had been locked in activities all morning and afternoon of only middling amusement. In the dining halls between our scheduled orientation activities, I looked for her among the tables in vain. I didn't know if she was a fellow freshman, or an upperclassman, or what: but I looked for her everywhere as I walked around campus.

So it was of great surprise to me when, climbing the stairs that led to my own dorm room, I suddenly ran into her exiting our shared hallway.

"Oh good, toilet slave, it's you," she said, catching me by the arm as she passed. "You're coming with me."

"What?"

She tugged me down the stairs and outside, onward, past the parking lot and to the treeline.

"I feel like going for a walk in the woods. You do know the woods, don't you? Have you explored them yet?"

"There was a campfire at one of the fire pits on the first night of orientation, but I didn't go," I admitted.

"Didn't go? Ah, toilet slave. Maybe you ought to be a little bolder. It would have been good for you to explore the woods on your first day. You could use that information now, instead of relying on me." She winked at me, and I nearly tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.

I followed (and was tugged by) Caroline all the way to the entrance of the woods: an inconspicuous dirt path leading behind the athletic center.

For several minutes, we walked together along the trail in silence, with Caroline in front and me behind: I watched the swaying bounce of her hips back and forth, back and forth. She had a hypnotic effect on me. I wasn't paying attention to anything beyond the subtle movements of Caroline's body, and finding sure footing on the dirt path. There were risks of stumbling over tree roots, or clipping oneself in the face with some unpruned plant stretching over the trail.

So I kept my eyes on my feet, and on Caroline's backside, and didn't notice much else: not the direction we were traveling, nor the appearance of our surroundings. I was, however, relieved that we didn't run into any other people.

After we had walked in for about 10 minutes, Caroline turned back to look at me for the first time. "Come with me," she said, and stepped over and between two trees, connected at the base and growing apart. We walked off the trail and into the underbrush; Caroline led me forward until we reached a little cloistered area with an enormous felled tree trunk occupying the open center. Trees and bushes lined the tiny clearing, so it was impossible to see the trail from here.

"Help me up," she said, turning to indicate that I should assist her in scaling the side of the fallen tree trunk. I gave her my hand, and let her stand on my knee, and soon she was perched on top of the trunk.

She was out of reach just above my head, and with the afternoon light filtering through the trees and her own golden hair, she looked beautiful. Very much like I imagined a wood nymph or a forest maiden would appear: in this clearing, high and out of reach, looking luminescent.

But then Caroline braced her heels against the trunk, lifted her skirt up, slid her panties down to her knees, and said, "Come here, toilet slave."

I approached, as much as I could. My chest was flush with the mossy bark and I was looking up at her, at her parted legs, at her pussy between.

"Right there is perfect," she crooned.

I was just wondering how she was possibly going to aim in my mouth from here - but then she started urinating. Already. Not aiming for my mouth. Just aiming for me.

I realized suddenly that she meant to soak me and leave me sodden. She meant to piss all over me. She'd relieve herself and I would be forced to walk out of the woods wet and cold and smelling of her.

The first arc of piss sprayed out of her cunt and pattered down, almost rhythmically, on my neck and chest. I tried to move my mouth closer, to catch it instead, but I kept my eyes closed to prevent them from catching any splashback. I couldn't really see what I was doing. I only caught vague, watery glimpses of Caroline, leaning back while she gushed all over me. I felt warm wetness trickling down my scalp, my sides, my legs.

"Turn around, slave," she commanded, without ceasing, and I did: soon my back was wet, too.

"You look much better," she said, and finally her stream was flagging. "This is a huge improvement for you. Maybe I should soak you every day."

She slid down the trunk easily, without assistance, and fixed her clothes. "Maybe I should make you go to class like that."

I shivered, but said nothing. She wouldn't do that...would she? And if she told me to...would I obey?

We walked together back to the trail. I couldn't stop thinking about what might happen if we rounded a bend to find some other student, or a local town resident walking their dog, or even a professor on the path. I wanted to make a good impression on my teachers here. I wanted to learn, and build professional relationships, and earn respect.

I didn't come here to let some crazy chick piss on me.

And yet...

When Caroline stopped dead in the middle of the path and forced me down to a kneeling position on the ground in front of her; when she stepped forward and pressed her pussy to my lips; when she uttered a long moan as she urinated into my open mouth; when I guzzled her fluids, keeping an eye on the path in case someone appeared at that moment...

...I felt these shivers down my spine that all seemed to point to this terminal place running through and out of me and holy fuck I was cumming right here. I was kneeling in the middle of the path in the woods behind my new school, drinking the piss out of the hottest girl on campus, who wanted to use me, who wanted me to be hers, her toilet slave...and even though I didn't use friction or touch, my cock spasmed and I creamed my pants.

Caroline seemed to know, immediately. I felt her fingertips lightly touch the back of my head before she twisted her fingers through my hair. She didn't tug or pull, but she did hold me firmly in place while she continued emptying herself into my mouth. Then she took a step back and surveyed me, still holding me by the hair.

"Toilet slave," she said, in a low soft voice. "You liked that, didn't you?"

She eyed me meaningfully, lowering her gaze. I knew I was blushing furiously.

"Yes, mistress," I said, and it wasn't until I heard her sudden breath that I realized what I had said, automatically, without even thinking. As if the word was already a perfect fit.

"What a good little slave," she murmured. "I have been looking for someone like you. Someone obedient-"

Her hand twisted a little more firmly in my hair.

"-and respectful-"

She put her other hand under my bicep.

"-and who will beg me to piss in his face," she said, and pulled me up to a standing position. She looked at me for a long moment.

"Come along, toilet slave," she said finally and took my hand, moving to lead us once more down the path. "I suppose I won't leave you here in the woods like I was planning to."

"Planning...to?" I said weakly.

"It might have taken you hours to get out. I know you weren't paying any attention to which forks we took earlier."

"There were forks?"

She tittered. "You're lucky I'm so nice, slave. I'm probably being more generous than you deserve." She looked over her shoulder at me. "You still haven't finished proving to me that you're worth all this trouble."

"Um."

"Um?" she repeated. "We'll work on that."