Out for Coffee

We arrange to meet this evening at a local coffee shop. We do this frequently, just to sit and chat and enjoy each other’s company. You’re already seated when I arrive, and I see the sparkle in your eyes when you kiss me and take my coat. You’ve already bought our drinks, and we sip slowly, talking about many things. You send me for a second cup, and we sip that as well, still talking and relaxing. As always, the conversation manages to turn to sex, and the desires we share. I feel myself grow damp, and my nipples harden beneath my lace bra. You know this, and your knowing smile tells me so.

“What color panties are you wearing?” you ask me, stroking your fingers over my palm.

I think a brief second before responding. “Hot pink, Sir, and matching bra”.

Your eyes darken slightly. You raise my hand, softly kissing my palm. “And are you supposed to be wearing panties, my slut?” You stare into my eyes and I shiver, groaning inwardly. You do allow me to wear them for work, but normally I stop after work and remove them if I’m meeting you somewhere, and tonite it’s slipped my mind completely. I blush, and my eyes lower, biting my lip. I’m tempted to beg for your forgiveness, to plead the hectic day, but decide not to. After all this time, I know your rules, and often you excuse me from them. Some days I find that a relief, and other days it makes me feel guilty. I take such pleasure in pleasing you, obeying you. When you excuse me from things, I feel like you’re saying I’m not capable of doing as you ask.

Several minutes pass in silence. You slide your hand across the table and hand me more money. “Please go purchase me another cup of coffee, sweet slut, and a large soda for yourself”.

Confused, I stand and hold the money, looking into your eyes. “Should I go to the ladies room and take off my panties?” I whisper.

You shake your head. “No, sweet one, I’m sure it’s a lovely set, and you look stunning in it. Let’s leave it as you are”. I smooth my skirt over my hips and turn to go get our drinks, a bit surprised at both your response and your request that I get a large soda. I’ve already had two coffees, and I wasn’t planning on another drink.

I return to the table with the drinks, and as I set yours before you, you reach out and pull me to you, kissing me. I sit down and look at you questioningly.

“Just for the record, are those pantyhose or stockings?” you ask with a smile.

I smile quickly, knowing this time I can give you the correct answer. “Thigh high stockings, Sir, with the lace tops”. Your smile causes my stomach to flip flop, and I’m pleased I’ve done that much correctly.

We continue to talk, and the conversation returns to the mundane details of our life. I am aware of my bladder, and wriggle slightly in the seat. Your slight grin tells me you’re aware of my need. Another of our rules is I am always to ask you for permission to use the bathroom, and I’ve always struggled over that rule. You notice I’ve barely sipped my soda, and you frown as you look at the full cup. “Drink your soda, sweet one”.

I take a small sip, and with my eyes down, force myself to whisper my request. “Please, Sir, may I go use the bathroom?”

I can sense the amusement on your face. “Why, sweet one?” you ask softly.

I groan again inwardly. I’m always so embarrassed when you push me to discuss things like this.

“ I need to pee, Sir” I manage to whisper.

“Look at me” you command. I drag my eyes to yours, and see the gleam in your eyes. Your sadistic streak has reared its head, I think to myself.

“You need to piss, slut?” you ask, in a voice that seems to me to carry around the coffee shop. My cheeks flame, and I’m sure they match that bra and panty set now. I barely nod.

“Say the words, slut” you command.

I stumble over the words, barely whispering, “ I … need… to…piss … Sir”.

You nod. “I thought you might by now. Drink your soda, and we will discuss your using the bathroom. Don’t ask again until you’ve emptied that cup” you tell me sternly. I nod, my eyes wide. You manage to return to our previous conversation, and I struggle to keep up my end of the conversation, acutely aware of my full bladder and trying to drink that damned soda.

I finally finish it, and look up expectantly at you. You look at your watch and smile at me. “Done so soon, sweet slut? Very good. Now go buy another one”. I whimper, looking up at you in amazement. You slide the money at me, and I slowly stand up. It’s difficult for me to walk over and get the soda, and I’m sure the clerk is wondering why I’m drinking fluids like I’m stranded in a desert. I return to our table, eyes down, and softly whisper to you, asking permission to sit again. I am overwhelmed with feeling so controlled by you in this moment.

We continue talking, although I know my focus is poor, and I’m squirming in my seat. Halfway through this drink, I shoot you a look of near panic. I’m starting to feel pain, needing so badly to empty my full bladder. You shake your head slowly, smiling at me. I can see the encouragement in your face, and I manage to draw some strength from that.

The conversation turns back to sex, and I feel my nipples harden again, and can feel the wetness flooding my pussy. It helps to take my mind off my bladder for a short time. I manage to finish the second drink, and look up at you. You check your watch again. “Not yet, my slut. I think you can wait a little longer”.

I can feel my blood rushing through my veins. I can barely concentrate on our conversation. I hope I’m not missing anything important here. All I can think about is being allowed to use the bathroom. A soft whimper escapes my lips. Finally, you nod to me, and I stand up as carefully as I can. You beckon me to come closer, and as I do you pull me down for another quick kiss. You brush my hair aside and whisper against my ear. “You may go to the ladies room now and piss, but I have one rule for you. You are NOT to take those panties off nor pull them to the side. Since you wore them tonite, you will piss in them, and wear them like that until you get home.”

I look at you in horror. “ Oh please…. Sir… no…” I stammer.

“Then sit back down and wait longer,” you offer. I stammer, tears coming to my eyes. I can’t do this; I can’t do either thing you’ve offered. My cheeks are flaming red, and my bladder is pounding. You kiss me again, your mouth pressed hard against mine. You suggest we go outside for a smoke, and I nod, overwhelmed, excited, and terrified. Outside, you manage to push my back against the building, kissing me, pressing against me, and you hand slides my skirt up my thigh. The cold air against my skin makes me gasp. I can barely stand up, clinging against you, whimpering in pain and excitement. You cup my pussy through the panties, feeling my dampness. Your fingers slip inside the leg band and stroke my slit, parting my swollen lips and pinching my clit. I cry out against your mouth. You pinch and tug my clit again harder. I feel a tear slip down my cheek. Your voice is rough in my ear. “ You WILL go into the ladies room and you WILL piss in those panties, and you WILL wear them home. Am I clear, slut?”

I whimper, struggling to obey you. “Yes, “ I whisper, “please let me go now, I can’t take this any longer”.

You pull away from me. “Then go piss your panties, my sweet slut, and come back to me.”

The walk to the ladies room seems to take forever. I pray to any god or goddess listening for there to be no line, and my prayers are heard, as the bathroom is empty. I slide my skirt up and hesitate, so used to sliding panties down. I sit carefully on the toilet, and cringe. I cannot believe I am going to do this. I can’t. I have to. I can’t. I have to.

I can’t take it any longer, and relax the muscles enough, and suddenly a hard stream of urine flows through my panties. I gasp at the sensation, at how hot it feels, and I can feel my clit, swollen and hard, and the flow of piss over it feels erotic. I shudder, and relax further, and empty my bladder. I stare at the toilet paper holder and decide that there’s nothing to wipe, given that I’m still wearing the panties. I sit there for a moment, thinking about what I’ve done. I stand up and gasp, suddenly the wet panties feel ice cold against my bare pussy. I can smell piss, and droplets slide down my legs. I lean against the stall door, suddenly realizing what I’ve just done, and realizing what I still need to do, to return to our table. Minutes go by, and I’m unable to open the stall door. I slowly unlock the door and wash my hands, staring at myself in the mirror. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Opening the door out of the bathroom might be the hardest thing I’ve done for you yet, and as that thought crosses my mind, I again am overwhelmed with the intensity of my submission to you, and what I’ve just done at your request. I see you across the room, and the look of pride on your face thrills me. I reach the table, aware of the smell of piss, aware of the icy cold material clinging to me, and keeping my eyes locked on yours. You stand up as I reach the table and slide my coat around my shoulders. “Ready to leave, sweet one?” you ask, kissing my ear and stroking your fingers across my cheek. I nod, wordlessly, and we leave the coffee shop.