“You’re doing really good again this time,” she says, pulling him closer to her. “You haven’t even asked if you can go.”
He nods into her chest. He’s trying so hard to be good for her but he knows it won’t be long before he can’t hide how much he needs to go. His hands are starting to tremble and his thighs want to twist and rub together so bad.
“You’ve got a just a little grease in your hair,” she says, running her fingers through it. “Did you shower this morning?” He shakes his head no. “Let’s go take care of that. You can handle that, right?”
He nods and she stands up slowly, taking him with her. “Oh my goodness, you’re so good,” she says. “You’re doing incredible.” She takes a second to squeeze him and feels a twinge deep inside his belly. He wishes she’d just take them to the bathroom already, hoping she’ll let him go pee in the toilet before they shower. Or even just let him pee his pants already…
She pushes him to the bathroom and starts to take off her clothes. “Don’t stare, that’s very rude,” she teases, holding her shirt up over her chest. He very quickly looks away, staring hard at the toothbrushes next to the sink. He can’t stop his feet from fidgeting. He rubs his socks over each other as he listens to the sound of her belt unclipping and the very soft murmur of fabric as she pulls it off. It’s like Pavlovian to him at this point, and he feels himself stiffen a little under his sweatpants.
“Let me do you, okay?” she says, now fully naked, reaching out to pull his sweater and tshirt over his head. “Aww, don’t get all shy.” He braces himself on her shoulders as she gently pulls off his pants. “No wet spots. Aw, you’re just a little bit erect, though, huh? Lift up your foot, honey. I have to get your socks off, too.”
She guides him to the shower and turns on the water. Immediately he doubles over, reacting to the sound of rushing water. “It’s getting bad,” isn’t it?” she asks him, squeezing his shoulder. “Aw, honey. Come on, I know you can make it just a little longer. You’re being so good for me so far.” She kisses his cheek and he straightens up, trying very hard to hold it in.
She tests the temperature of the water with her hand. “Okay, we’re good.” She steps into the bathtub and pulls him in after her, drawing the curtain shut behind him. “You do me first,” she says, passing him her washcloth and soap. “And then we’ll get to you.”
But halfway through him rubbing down her back and shoulders with the washcloth she has a wicked idea. “One second,” she says, squatting down under the water. She concentrates for a second and then he hears a hissing and soft splattering, the smell of ammonia hitting his nose as the warm water washes her pee down the drain. “That feels so good,” she murmurs.
When she stands back up, looking satisfied, he squirms. “Can…can I…”
“Nope,” she says, pressing a finger to his lips. “You’re not allowed yet. Oh, I think I have a little bit left.” She grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him close to her, hovering over his thigh, and lets go again. The warm liquid hits his legs and he squirms more, hands on his penis. “Uh-uh-uh,” she tuts, taking his hands and pulling them away.
“Please,” he says quietly. A little tiny bit of pee spurts out of him.
“Hey,” she says, “did I tell you you could do that?”
“It’s okay. I know this is hard for you. The water’s running, and it’s all warm and relaxing…Just let me shampoo your hair, and then you can go, okay, baby?”
“Okay,” he says, trying very hard to ignore the pressure in his bladder. Her fingernails feel so good on his scalp. He feels her rub in the shampoo and rinse it out. Then she brushes conditioner into his hair with her fingers.
“Okay, let me just get your armpits and your feet, too. One second.”
He can’t help but squirm the whole time. At first she said he could go after she got his hair done, but now she needs to do his feet and armpits, too? And then she’s washing his back, his butt, and then his lower stomach and privates. Her hands are right over his bladder. He grits his teeth, heart pounding.
“Are you doing okay?” she asks.
“Uh-huh,” he says. She instructs him to turn around under the water for a final rinse and then, finally, turns it off, the dial squeaking as she closes it.
“Towel time,” she says, reaching outside of the curtain for his towel and wrapping it around him. Thank god, she misses it when he leaks a little bit under it. Now that everything is wet it’s harder to tell.
He doesn’t want her to shush him and he knows she will if he asks to go again. So he watches helplessly as she dries herself off and leaves the room to get their clothes. While she’s gone, he tries to leak a little more into the towel, as discreetly as he possibly can.
She comes back fully dressed, carrying very fluffy sweatpants, underwear, socks, and a tshirt for him. “Out of the shower, baby, and on the tile,” she says and he steps out. Leaking a little hasn’t really done anything but made his situation worse. It’s so close now, it feels like it’s pressing right up against the opening of his urethra.
“I have to go peee,” he whines, not being able to stop himself, as she takes his towel from him and pulls his underwear on.
“Oh, now you’re just being a baby,” she chastises, continuing to dress him.
“Mama, I have to go pee really bad,” he says again. She’s even putting socks on him.
“You were doing so good,” she says. “Come on and hold it for me while I get your socks on. Okay, there we go. Now stand back in the shower for me,” she says, pulling back the curtain.
What? He looks at her blankly, confused.
“Come on, honey. You’re almost done.”
He steps into the shower, immediately feeling the lukewarm water soak into his socks.
“Now you can go pee for me,” she says. “Can you do that?”
“In my pants? But you just washed me.”
“It’s okay, it’ll just be one more quick rinse. Can’t you just do this for me? I know you really want to go. Come on, I want to see you soak those sweatpants.”
He’s embarrassed by how easy it is. Pee gushes out of him almost immediately, soaking his pants all the way down to his socks. It feels so good and warm on his feet, especially now that the shower water is getting cold. He leans over, moaning a little bit.
“Does that feel good?” she asks, watching him. “It looks great from over here.”
“Oh fuck,” he moans, leaning over further. He’s even wet the hem of his tshirt and the flow hasn’t slowed down.
“You had to go really bad,” she says. “Doesn’t that feel better?”
“Uh-huh,” he says. It’s finally starting to slow down, stopping and going in smaller spurts. “It feels so much better.”
“Thank you for letting me go,” he says, squeezing out the last little bit. “Thank you so much.”
“Good job, baby. That’s a good boy. That’s a *very* good boy. Let’s get your pants and panties off and give you another rinse.” She steps into the shower. “Ohh, and your socks and tshirt, too. Aw, we’re going to have to do a lot of laundry.”
By “we”, he knows she means him.
She peels his clothes off and discards them on the shower floor. “Those sweatpants were really nice,” he says.
“They’re not ruined forever. Nothing a little laundry detergent and water won’t fix.” She’s taking the telephone showerhead off its hook and is hosing him down like a dog. “I mean, think about how many pants you’ve pissed in that you wear all the time.”
“Look, all clean again. Come on out and I’ll get you a new towel. I know you were pissing in the other one.”
He feels his cheeks flush as she ducks out again. “I didn’t piss in it *that* much…” he says quietly.
“Here, now we can get you nice and dry again. And then let’s go for a little walk. Does that sound nice?”
“I’m not sure,” he says. “My knees feel kind of weak.”
“Aww, poor baby. Okay, how about we just get dinner together and watch a movie on the couch?”
That sounds a lot better. He nods.
