As the disco lights flashed and the music throbbed, my little cousin, Rosella, and I clinked our drinks together in a toast. It was a special night, one filled with laughter and debauchery. We had been catching up on old times, reminiscing about childhood memories and all the while downing shot after shot of tequila. By this point in the evening, we were both feeling quite tipsy.
"Rosella," I purred, my voice low and seductive. "Would you like to try something adventurous?"
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded eagerly. "Yes, what is it?"
I grinned mischievously and ordered a bottle of water from one of the waiters. Once it arrived, I took a swig and pretended to choke on the refreshing liquid. "W-we could piss in this guy's mouth," I said, indicating the unsuspecting man standing by the bar.
She gasped but then giggled nervously. "I've never done anything like that before," she confessed, her cheeks blushing crimson.
I placed my hand on her small shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "It's okay. We'll do it together. Besides, I've never seen how powerful our divinity is until now!"
Reluctantly, she agreed, and together we approached the toilet slave standing by the bar. "Excuse me," I said smoothly, making sure my tone was sweet and innocent. "Would you be able to hold this bottle for us while we go pee?"
The slave nodded stupidly, not realizing what was in store for him. We hurried off to the restroom, locking the door behind us. Without any further ado, Rosella hooked her fingers into the elastic waist of her skirt and lowered them to reveal her pink, soft underwear. Her body quaked with anticipation as she unleashed a steady stream of golden piss into the waiting bottle. It was such a glorious sight that I couldn't help but feel a surge of lust course through my veins.
I followed suit, pulling my own thong aside and exposing my wet, swollen folds to the slave's eager eyes. The feeling of power was exhilarating, the smell of our combined urine making my head spin. We each emptied our bladders into the container, filling it to the brim with our sacred liquid.
When we emerged from the stall, the slave was waiting patiently for us. We handed him the bottle and watched as his eyes widened at the sight of what he held - our piss! A look of awe and adoration filled his features, and it was all I could do not to collapse into a fit of giggles. I motioned for him to kneel before us, and he obeyed without hesitation.
"Drink up, slave," I commanded in a husky voice. "Drink all of our divine piss and cherish every drop."
With trembling hands, the man brought the bottle to his lips and tilted it back, allowing our piss to pour over his tongue and down his throat. His face contorted in disgust at first, but soon changed to one of absolute ecstasy as he realized how incredible it tasted. We watched him with bated breath as he drained every last drop, his eyes fixed on us in absolute adoration.
And so it was that we spent the rest of the night, pissing on unsuspecting toilet slaves and watching them worship at our feet. Each time we found a new victim, we grew bolder and more daring, experimenting with different positions and techniques. Sometimes we'd make them drink directly from our dripping feminine folds, while other times we'd force them to lap up every drop of our piss that spilled onto the floor.
It was the most liberating feeling, knowing that our divinity could reduce mere mortals to such mindless slaves. And best of all, Rosella and I were in this together - sharing our power and ensuring that no one would ever forget the night they were pissed on by gods.
