Just a little story about soul retrieval through conscious sploshing and humiliation


She slaps my face, forcing the air from my lungs. Then slaps my other cheek, hard, this time making me gasp in shock and pain.

She laughs at my distress; "Ah are you scared of me?"

I can't answer; I'm frozen in place. I guess that's answer enough for her.

"Yes, you are afraid of me aren't you. You are so scared you would let me do anything I want with you"

I look at her wide-eyed, and we both know that it's true.

"Kneel down"

I do as I am told, quickly and obediently. She gives me a look that I know means "don't move" then walks off behind me. I wait, my body tense and taut, on full alert. I become aware of my breathing; it is faltering and unstable but my attention focuses on its ragged rise and fall. I trance out then, not feeling calm but resigned that I'm just not in control of whatever it is is about to happen. It's not up to me any more. I'm not sure how much time passes but I am brought to by the crash of a large solid object onto the ground in front of me.

She grabs me by the throat and sternly pulls me towards her. Her eyes are dark and intense. "I know what you are. You are dirty right down to your bones. You dirty fucking bitch. You fucking dirty little cunt"

Her words penetrate my bones, right through to my soul.

"Close your eyes"

I obey. I feel her breath on my face, waiting for another stinging slap or a painful pinch on some sensitive part of my body. Instead I feel something soft and silky stroking my face. I look and see she is caressing me with a wide and supple sable paintbrush.

"You are a dirty bitch. And I'm going to make sure you don't forget it"

She reaches down to the solid object which I now realise is a large bucket. She dips the brush into the bucket and it emerges covered in some greasy looking black gunk. Grinning sadistically she holds it in front of my face; it smells awful and I wince in disgust. With real satisfaction she rubs the brush down my neck and onto my naked chest; my skin recoils from its slickness and its unpleasant warmth. Laughing, she dips into the bucket again and again, covering my body with thick layers of the disgusting foetid slime. My arms, my legs, my back, between the cheeks of my arse. When she reaches my cock and balls I can't help but feel a thrill of pleasure rush through me. I'm overcome with shame; shame of what I'm being reduced to - shame that I am just letting her do this to me when I could walk away - and shame that part of me actually wants this humiliation; part of me craves it more than anything.

Looking down I can hardly recognise my body as mine; I am a disgusting, smelly, oily mess. She stops her work and locks those eyes with mine; those eyes that see right into my darkest desires.

"You horrible little creature. You are a nothing but a dirty little animal and I won't be letting you get clean for quite some time yet"

With that, she picks up the now half-full bucket with both hands and slowly raises it above my head. I feel the sticky grease slide over my head, pushing my hair into my face, oozing over my ears and my eyes until I'm almost cut off from the world outside; I open my mouth to get some air and some of touches the tip of my tongue; it's really nasty; salty and bitter and somehow sweet at the same time; God knows what it is. I try to spit it out but end up getting more of it my mouth; I'm spluttering and making choking noises as she pours this horrible stuff all over my naked body. Eventually this cascade comes to an end.

"You like that. This is who you really are. Dirty, disgusting, barely even human. And so scared. So scared aren't you? Such a scared little bird! Such a scared little chicken!

Something in her voice makes me start, even through my fear and humiliation. The black stuff has been dripping down my body bit by bit and I find I can open my eyes a little. In her hands is a big fistful of yellow and white feathers. I look up at her but there is no mercy there; just laughter as she rubs the feathers into my face; sticking to the grease and scratching at my skin; another fistful scratches into my chest and another into my testicles making them ache and throb. This ordeal is transforming me into something else; no not quite human any more but whatever it is that lies beneath my shame and fear; whatever it is that I've been hiding from all these years...

"There you go chicken. Well now. We've played your little game. I've done to you exactly what you wanted. Now tell me, and by God you had better give me an answer that is true, that means something."

She bends down and stares at me. This is so intense that part of me is floating away; my ego washed away with all this degradation. Yet part of me is tuned in, hyper focused and aware. I will not fail now.

"What do you feel?"

That awful sense of power in her voice; it sparks something deep in me, something long dead and buried that now awakes and rises up to meet her...

"I feel - invincible!"