Part two of two. Please see the first part for content warnings.
Magnus woke early the next morning, as he usually did. The curtains on his windows were tied back to allow the early morning sunlight to stream into the room, rousing him as soon as there was enough light to start the day.
Typically, that would mean bathing and dressing and beginning to sort his correspondences; but on this morning, the first item to address for the day was the doll pressed against his side, very obviously trying to minimize her squirming.
He stroked a hand along her flank, then pressed down on her abdomen, feeling for the tightness of her bladder.
She immediately gasped and then stifled an unhappy noise, shifting uncomfortably in the bed, but he could tell by what he felt that she wasn't full enough yet to present an immediate problem.
He slipped his hand next between her thighs, feeling the heat of her cunny and the dampness between her lips. He caught her clit carefully between his thumb and his first knuckle--it didn't feel nearly as swollen as it had been the prior evening, having recovered somewhat from her punishment--and rolled it gently a couple of times.
The doll responded with a quiet cry of confused need and a full-body shudder.
"Good morning," he said, dipping his hand lower to insert just the tips of two fingers into her hole.
"G--ah--good morning, sir," she gasped. "This, um, this doll will--will need to use the toilet soon, sir!"
"How soon?" he asked, slowly brushing his fingers around her entrance and then pushing them in again, feeling the way her body fluttered and pulsed. He was familiar enough with the effect that a good pussy-spanking had on a doll--he did it himself, sometimes, for the fun of it--and he knew that the recovery would have left her feeling even more sensitive than before, to the point that she was likely as desperate for an orgasm as she was to relieve her bladder.
"S-soon, sir, very soon," she whimpered.
He tutted. "No. Is this the longest you've ever been made to wait before? Surely not. During your initial training, you would have been denied access to a toilet for at least one twenty-four hour period."
"I--I don't remember it too well, sir," she confessed. As his fingers slipped out of her hole again and up to circle her clit--it had grown plump, but not from the swelling of bruising now; she was simply very aroused--she shuddered again. "Sir..."
"I suppose you wouldn't. Remember it, I mean." He trapped the little organ between his thumb and finger again, and he felt her tense--bracing for a pinch, perhaps, maybe worried that the sudden pain would compromise her control over her bladder. But he only tugged very gently, working his fingers in little movements that mimicked the way he would stroke his own cock.
The doll let out an open-mouthed sob and jolted against him, her legs spreading wide and then trying to draw together again.
He hummed to himself, satisfied with her state. Though he was strict with dolls in his rooms about their casual use of his facilities, he typically didn't force them to go the whole night without emptying their bladders; it was too close to a punishment for normal doll treatment, in his opinion. But it was nice to have the opportunity to play with a squirming, desperate doll when he had the chance.
"Please, sir, please," she gasped as he continued his gentle tugging and manipulation of her twitching clit. "I won't be able to hold it for very much longer..."
"Yes, you will," he informed her easily. "You'll surprise yourself with how long you can keep control. Of course, it can be unhealthy to overfill your bladder regularly, but this one time? I expect you could wait another hour, maybe two, before you truly risk soiling yourself."
"Ohh," she moaned, her expression crumpling into a picture of misery, but she didn't try to beg or argue with him.
He tugged at her clit again, and she let out a little squeaking noise, her hips twitching. He smiled. "And what about your climax? How close are you to losing control over that?"
"I won't, sir, I won't come," she promised, though she sounded less sure than the day before, as if she were repeating it to convince herself as much as him.
"If I were to give you permission to come, how close would you be?"
"Uh," she moaned again, biting down hard on her lip before answering. "C-close. Just--very close, sir."
"It would be a very intense climax, wouldn't it? After being whipped yesterday?" He slid his fingers up and down her clit, then massaged at the base of it before tugging again. "I've seen a doll pass out from how hard she came the day after a pussy-spanking."
She let out a long whine, her toes twisting in the sheets, and he laughed.
"If I left the choice up to you, little doll--whether you would get to use the toilet or get to come--which would you choose right now?"
"The toilet, sir, the toilet!"
"And why is that?" he asked, tugging at her clit again and watching her body roll and then flinch, caught between arousal and the discomfort of her full bladder.
"B-because, sir, this doll remembers--this doll remembers that you said she mustn't come--so that she can remember her place properly! And I want to remember, I want to be a good doll!" she blurted. "And--and--this doll would be so very ashamed if she soiled your bed!"
"Very good," he remarked.
She glanced up at him briefly, with an expression of pitiful hope, clearly expecting that she might have secured permission to relieve herself with her correct answer.
He smiled and reached down to hook two fingers into her twitching cunny again, pushing them in deep this time.
She bawled in surprise, flailing against him and then grabbing on with both hands as if she needed to brace herself.
"Don't come, now," he reminded her.
She nodded frantically, evidently unable to bring herself to speak as she sobbed and shuddered, holding tight to him and rocking her hips in restrained, lurching little movements like she was fighting back the instinct to ride down on his hand.
He tutted. "Is this what you wanted? To feel good? Isn't this why you violated your most fundamental obligation as a doll and touched the part of your body that doesn't belong to you?" With each word, he rocked his fingers inside her, plunging deeper, frothing up the wetness seeping out of her until the vulgar sound of her cunt being churned filled the room.
"No, sir," she denied, and then quickly--in response to his frown--she forced out a handful more words, her voice wobbling: "Th-this doll is honored--sir--to be played with--for your entertainment--"
"I'm glad to hear that," he informed her, twisting his fingers roughly inside her and feeling her cunt catch and shudder. "I am very entertained. I have half a mind to stick you on my cock and let you squirm on top of me until I finish." She moaned and clenched around his fingers again, and he smiled. "Do you think you would last, doll? Or are you at risk of messing yourself on me?"
She shook her head. "You say that I can hold it, sir, so you must be right," she whimpered in a small voice. "But--but--"
"But what?"
