Drink Piss

"I never...I never drank pee," Lois said. Her face flushed at the admission. It was a strange thing to be embarrassed about—most people, she imagined, had never drank pee. Yet here she was, trying to imagine something dirty enough to get inside this cult, and that of all things was what came to her mind...not anything else on her sexual bucket list, but...

"Very well. Kneel, acolyte." The voice sounded oddly tired.

Lois blinked in the darkness, and lowered herself onto her knees before the Black Door, resting her thin ass on her heels.

"Cup your hands and raise them before you."

The reporter set her phone on the ground in front of her, so that the light shone up. She brought her cupped hands together in front of her, and raised them up. A part of her wondered what they were going to do...

A hole opened in the door. Lois never saw a panel draw back. It was as if the hole had always been there, and she simply hadn't seen it. Her eyes fixed on that rectangle of darker blackness...and then something emerged from it, into the pale light cast by her smartphone.

A cock.

A crimson cock.

It was flaccid, uncut, and she couldn't see the testes, but it was most definitely a prick, and of an unnatural red color, the head almost purple, with a big ropey vein along the side like a dark vein in scarlet marble. The cock was thicker than most Lois had any experience of, but not much longer. Instinctively, Lois stretched her hands forward, until the tips just touched the cold black metal of the door.

The head twitched. Lois wondered if she should peel back the foreskin...and then a thin trickle of liquid poured out of the end. In the poor light of the phone, half-blocked by her cupped hands, Lois saw it as a shadowy stream...but she felt the hot liquid hit her palms, smelled the familiar bathroom odor...although somehow more pungent than she was used to.

The trickle didn't last long. Barely a few seconds. Lois felt herself holding a pool of hot piss in her cupped hands, maybe barely a mouthful.

"Drink."

Lois shuddered, gathered her courage...she could do this. She had eaten bull penis. Fermented shark meat. Grandma Lane's dandelion greens. Jimmy Olsen's microbrewing experiment. Told herself that urine was sterile, that people drank it all the time.

She raised her hands to her lips.

At the first taste, she didn't gag. It was harsh, vinegary, like bad beer or apple cider going off. There was that sharp, astringent quality to it. She didn't like the taste, but Lois swallowed, letting the hot liquid run down her throat...and then she lowered her hands, damp with pee...and realized what she had just done.

She stared ahead. The cock hadn't retreated. There was a single solitary drop hanging off of the flaccid tip.

"To the last drop."

Lois smiled grimly. Somehow, she knew something like this was going to happen.

Leaning forward, Lois placed her lips around the warm, soft cock. Her tongue slid against the exposed urethra in the wrinkled foreskin, and tasted that last bitter drop.