Lately I’ve been thinking about what it would be like if someone wouldn’t let me pee. Like maybe we’ve been hanging out, and I get up to go, and they keep talking to me like they don’t know I’m trying to exit stage left. And finally when I’m so desperate I just tell them I have to go, and they stand up and knot their fingers in my hair and drag me into the bedroom.
They make me take my clothes off and then start to bend me over the bed, and I ask in a small voice if I can please go to the bathroom first. They tell me no, and pull me over their knee, spanking me so hard I that I’m squirming to get away. Their thigh pressing into my bladder as I try to wiggle free. I can feel myself almost leaking and my insides hurt and the spanking hurts, and I sob.
Abruptly they flip me onto my back and clip my wrists into cuffs, and then they start to touch me between my legs. I beg them to stop and they ruffle my hair and slap me, and the contrast of the comforting touch and their roughness makes me cry harder. They gag me. I can feel wetness between my legs, am I leaking?
They start to use my favorite vibrator on me, the one that always makes me cum. I’m sobbing and coming unglued, trying to beg around the gag in my mouth, everything coming out in one hysterical whine.
And then I’m cumming, and they turn the vibrator all the way up, and I can’t stop myself, it hurts, I can’t hold it, my muscles are contracting and I can’t control myself, and I feel so ashamed. Ashamed I wet myself, ashamed they saw it, ashamed how good it felt. The vibrator on my clit wringing every last bit out of me, painful, my hips bucking involuntarily.
And when they pull it away they force me to look at them while they tell me how disgusting I am. How I peed myself, how I obviously liked it, how gross it is. Shoving their cock inside me while I sob helplessly under them.
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