Torment Me

I rushed to her office after practice, my hair still clinging to my forehead after the shower. Dread mixed with nervous anticipation made a tight knot in my stomach. She hated tardiness. I was in so much trouble. I quickly chanced a glance at my watch, 20 minutes late.

Fuck. I raced by the ancient wrought iron elevator in favor of the stairs, unwilling to waste one more minute. I cursed my coach under my breath for making us do those extra laps as I finally reached her floor.

My heart thundered as I reached for the handle of the door, hand trembling slightly. The door opened and there she stood. Mistress May's imposing figure was framed by the doorway, her arms at her sides, her expression unreadable. Her razored gaze dragged over me, judging my existence.

I know I looked good, tall, with dirty blond hair, and a slender muscular build after years of swim practice. I know all the girls at school literally threw themselves at me, hanging on to my every word and clinging to my arm at parties. But under her gaze, I felt like a boy caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Her silent stillness made a ruthless meal out of my nerves and a full-body tremor broke free.

"Close the door behind you," She delivered the order with terrifying calmness and strode back into the room.

I had no choice but to follow. Fear dumped into my bloodstream, my limbs shaking. I closed the door with a resounding click and shrank as Mistress May pivoted, giving me the full force of her glare.

"I got here as soon as I could." I tried to explain as I ran my clammy palms down my pants.

"I know I'm late. I swear, it won't happen again, Mistress --"

"Shut up." Her harsh tone ricocheted through the office, making me gulp.

She sat on the edge of her desk without taking her eyes off me. Mine were glued to her, taking in her black knee-high stiletto boots, a pencil skirt that showed off her every curve, and a corset that hugged her breasts like a second skin. She was a walking wet dream. I gulped, feeling myself grow hard and an uncomfortable pressure build.

"You kept me waiting." She tapped her long slender fingers on the desk. Tap. Tap. Tap. Her hand stilled.

"In total, you accumulated sixty minutes of punishment," she said calmly. I felt indignation bubble up in my chest.

"What? I wasn't that late --"

"Quiet," she commanded. My jaw ached as I bit down, stopping myself from saying more.

"Hear me loud and clear, Mister Thompson."

A fresh wave of shame came from the mention of my family name. How my dad would disown me if he knew how I spent my allowance. I would much rather she called me 'boy' or 'slave' or anything else, but of course she wouldn't. She pushed off the desk.

"You will take your punishment without arguments or complaints".

"Yes Mistress" I replied automatically.

"Come here." She crooked a finger.

I tentatively took a few steps forward. To my horror I started to feel an uncomfortable pressure in my bladder.

"Stand there and face the wall." She pointed at a spot against the adjacent wall.

"Please Mistress, may I go to the toilet first?" I asked, feeling like a schoolboy shuffling on my feet.

"No." Her command was final.

I chanced a glance up at her and saw her sinister smirk, and I knew that she was going to hurt me. And If I didn't stand where she indicated she would hurt me worse. Defeated, I walked awkwardly to the wall, my cock hard and my bladder full. I flattened my palm on the exposed brick.

I could hear the clacking sound of her heels as she approached. Each menacing step directed the staccato of my pulse. Pressing closer, the length of her body aligned with mine, saturating my skin with her heat. No part of her touched me, except her breath. Her hot, invasive exhale caressed my exposed neck and curled around my throat. Then her unsympathetic hand was beside mine on the wall as she moved her mouth to my ear.

"Get up on your toes and press your nose to the wall."

I lifted onto my toes, straining against the wall. It felt awkward, stupid, and humiliating. Her heady presence was all around me, smothering. My whole body was on high alert, tense with a growing pressure at the base of my balls.

"My bladder is starting to hurt bad..." The aching plea in my voice almost reached a whimpering pitch.

"Please, I really need to use the restroom--"

"If you utter one more word about it, I'll double the length of your punishment." Iron sheathed in lace, her voice could cut steel. There was not a trace of sympathy to be found. I felt myself spiraling into eternal damnation with my bladder screaming for release.

"Before we start.." She shifted, giving me space to breathe. For a moment I felt a fleeting sense of hope, had she changed her mind?

"Remove your shoes and socks." I swallowed down my hope and did as she asked. I kicked off my shoes and felt my naked feet on the hardwood floor.

"Now your pants and underwear." The uncompromising command in her voice tightens my chest.

Clumsily, I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and let them pool around my ankles. Then I gripped my boxers and shoved them down. The texture of soft fabric slipped down my tights and caught on my bare knees. I wiggled my hips and the gray boxers fell around my ankles. She nodded at the nearby desk.

"Stack your things there. You have three seconds."

I hurriedly did as ordered. When I returned to the wall I was hyper-aware of my steel-hard cock. Prickles of shame washed over me. Somehow only wearing a polo shirt made me feel more exposed than if I had been fully naked. I flattened my hands on the wall again, took a gulp, went on my tiptoes, and pressed my nose against the brick. She learned it and put her face millimeters from mine. Her intense gaze was my whole world. Fuck me. I couldn't think straight. Not with her so goddamn close.

"Good," she said and dismissively patted me on the cheek.

Then she paced off towards her desk without another word. I could hear her heels against the floor. Click. Click. Click.

I took a breath of relief with each retreating step, feeling like I dodged a bullet. It was uncomfortable but definitely doable to maintain the same position, but soon exhaustion beat against me on all sides. I needed to pee really bad. I clenched my ass trying to relieve the pressure but it didn't work.

I'm shaking slightly now. My bladder felt like it was going to burst. My whole body is tense, toes curling inwards, trying to keep it together. I shifted slightly and my stiff cock accidentally brushed against the unyielding wall. I gritted my teeth, stopping a whimper from escaping. I tried to count but the second dragged into minutes and everything disappeared except for the unbearable pressure that squeezed inside me, burning, throbbing, threatening to burst.

I clenched my ass cheeks tight together, squirming with desperation, growing frantic by the second. I couldn't stand on my toes any longer and started bouncing on the balls of my heels. Up, down, up, down. My bladder.... Oh fuck don't think about it. How many minutes did I have left? Twenty? Thirty? Fuck, I wasn't going to make it.

I felt her watching my every movement, like a tigress ready to pounce. She knew exactly what I needed. I felt my resolve weaken as the pushing pressure became too much to hold back. I knew I only had seconds before I lost all control.

Please. I try to whimper but it comes out as an incoherent mess.

I know she heard my desperate plea but she chose to do nothing. For a fraction of a second, I considered saying fuck you and sprinting to the bathroom. But before my brain sent that message to my body, I lost the fight with my bladder. I felt the dam burst and a hot stream of release running through me as a tidal wave. The yellow waterfall hit the wall with such force that yellow droplets splashed onto my bare feet. I was moaning as the stream of wetness continued. It was the most pleasurable, most mortifying sensation I'd ever experienced.

A complete lack of control mixed with a sublime sense of relief and blistering embarrassment. My cheeks caught fire. My joints locked up, and every muscle in my body became paralyzed. I didn't dare turn around but I felt her eyes like daggers digging into my back. I didn't hear a word from her lips. I heard nothing but the trashing pulse in my ears. My shame is overwhelming.

As the minute passed, my entire world narrowed to the pool of urine underneath my feet, and the cooling wetness along my legs. The blow to my pride cut deep. Deeper than a strap or a cane or any other corporal punishment she could've inflicted. She'd planned this. My eyes closed as the realization hit. The shoes, socks, pants--all of it would've been ruined if she hadn't told me to take them off. She had wanted me to piss myself. What a sadist.

I kept my eyes shut, simmering in a puddle of shame. Fatigue strained my muscles and fucked with my balance. My legs ached from tension and my palms hurt from being pressed against the wall. I knew my time was up when I heard the chair creak as Mistress May stood up.

"You can step back." I didn't want to move or open my eyes.

I was standing in a pool of my own piss for fuck's sake. Slowly I leaned back and took a step away. My eyes opened, locking onto the wet mess on the floor. A fresh wave of humiliation burned through me. She stepped around me, giving the yellow splatter a wide berth on her way to the cleaning closet. She removed a mop, bucket, cleaning supplies, and paper towels and laid them out on the floor.

My gaze fell on my wet feet, my eyes achy with tears. Her boots appeared at the edge of my blurry vision, the shiny black leather stopping just outside of the puddle. Her hand tenderly touched my chin, lifting it until my eyes locked on to hers. Her thumb ghosted along the curve of my bottom lip, her gaze following the movement.

She leaned in and whispered "Good boy" then she withdrew her hand and strode towards the door.

"I'll see you at the same time next week. Don't be late."