A Pee Lust Story Ch 02

She lay on the bed, face down, arms wide and bound to the bed posts. Her legs were free because at various times during the evening he had wanted her on her knees as he ate her ass, toyed with her clit and fucked her pussy.

Now though, she relaxed, blindfolded and enjoying the feel of him at her side lightly massaging her shoulders, back and ass with one hand. All would be perfect except...

"Can you let me up? I need to pee."

She felt him stirring at her side and heard him groan. Not with annoyance, just that deep masculine sound he made while stretching.

"Mmmmpft... okay."

In moments he had her cuffs unclipped, but before she could sit up or remove the blindfold, he reclipped them, together, behind her back.

"I really need to ...now," she said with a bit of exasperation.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time," he chuckled. With a grunt he manhandled her to the edge of the bed and helped her sit upright. "Up you get," and pulled her to her feet.

"But-"

"Shh. Trust me."

Hands on her shoulders, he guided her slowly to the ensuite. He loved the way she walked blindfolded and bound. Very upright, her upper body balanced over her hips, chin tilted up, lifting each foot slightly higher than was natural before placing it carefully ball first. It gave her a stately, slow-motion, prancing gait. He wouldn't tell her that though. It would make her self-conscious and maybe she would try to change it. He didn't want that.

In the bathroom, she was turned and pushed onto the toilet. She sat for a few moments, totally frozen and he knew she was working through the situation and making a decision.

"Please?" He relaxed. If she felt that this, whatever it turned into, was something that she really couldn't do, she would have said "red light" and he would have had to back off. He also knew that she had likely gone through a wide spectrum of possibilities and was willing to leave it in his hands. Her one word entreaty, on the face of it a request to not do this, was in reality a plea for slowness, for care, for mercy from him. That he would give.

Squatting before her, he rubbed her upper arms. "You can do this, for me." And he put his hands on her knees and firmly, inexorably, spread her legs.

With her face turned away, she whispered, "I can try but... you're here and uh and you can see and listen and I'll know that and I won't be able-"

"Hey." He broke into her slightly panicked monologue. "It's okay. I'm patient. I can wait."

And he did. For several minutes.

In that time, nothing happened except that she shifted her rear occasionally on the seat and chewed her lower lip on and off. He stayed perfectly still and quiet before her, their only contact his hands on her knees, wanting to make this as easy as possible for her.

Without any warning she stiffened then relaxed slightly and first there was an intermittent trickle that grew into a steady, controlled stream. Closer and closer he leaned, watching how the volume parted and spread her lips ever so slightly, smelling the faint scent and feeling the steamy heat of it against his face. Before she could run out he placed his right hand on her lower belly, just above her pubic mound and said, "Stop. Hold it now!"

With a sharp inhale she pinched it off and he could see that too, how the muscles underneath and inside caused her labia to shift just a tiny bit upwards then down.

She sat there, breathing hard, almost panting, waiting for the next order and he could see her tenseness through her stiff shoulders, her tight jaw line. With his hand still on her belly, he extended his thumb down and started rubbing her clit back and forth through the hood. Moderate pressure, 90 beats per minute, the same way she did when she touched herself, when he allowed her to touch herself. At this she arched her body, leaning back as much as the toilet and her bound wrists permitted, and began to breath sharply in through her teeth, hold for a few seconds, out. And again and again.

He continued masturbating her for a few minutes, there on the toilet, watching the occasional drip of pee fall down and listening to her small moans and whimpers as she got more aroused. Without pausing he said, "More pet."

She sat up straight and looked towards him, as if trying to see him through the blindfold, "But-"

He grasped her jaw with his free hand, pushing her back against tank, increasing the pressure and speed of his thumb pad against her most sensitive spot. "Shut up and do it."

With that grip and those words, delivered in a harsh, commanding tone, subspace, already flirting around the edges of her consciousness, hit. Everything about her softened, accepted. Her chin tilted up and her head dropped slightly to the side, opening her throat to him, as her shoulders eased and her hips thrust towards him.

Submission held in his hands, he rotated his grip on her pussy. His active thumb remained over her clit but now his palm cupped the swollen labia and his index and middle finger delved into her wet pussy. As he tightened this grip, stimulating her inside and out, the rush of urine restarted.

Hot, so hot, as it filled his hand, pouring over the sides and down. Pressing from within, the stream pulsed in tandem with his fingers' movements on her deep G-spot. She writhed slowly through those last seconds of her pissing, grinding her mound against him, straining her thighs wide and almost seeming to hang from the hand at her throat.

As the last spurts of urine dripped out of his working hand, he heard the moaning drop in tone, become more like groans of pain, more rhythmic, ripping from her and he knew that she was close. Very close.

"P-pl... yes... please... oh f-f-fuck... please let me... Sir... Sir... please!" He watched in near awe as she struggled to drag the words out. As is from a deep well they came, raw, barely formed, animalistic. A woman with all civility stripped away by her desperation to cum, absolutely naked to him in every way, leaving nothing but her submission and need.

He shifted up on his knees, now gripping her, holding her, supporting her with his one hand tight in the hair at the nape of her neck and his other hand keeping that violent, perfect rhythm inside and outside. His lips at her ear he whispered, "Cum for me. Cum hard for me. Right NOW," and bit deeply into the curve of her neck and shoulder.

And she did. So hard. Thrashing, bucking, moaning, almost screaming. Only his three point hold, nape, neck and cunt, kept her from falling to the floor. He felt, for only the third time, that gushing cum, ejaculating all over his hand and wrist and his fingers inside pushed harder, over and over, milking it from her as her cunt spasmed around his fingers.

A minute, maybe two passed, and her groans turned into higher pitched whimpers and he slowed his fingers, easing her through the aftershocks as she trembled all over, gasping as her cunt clenched, the last remnants of her titanic orgasm shuddering through her.

Her whole body seemed to melt and become boneless and he stood, pulling her up against him, one hand gripping her ass, the other around her shoulders. He rocked her limp body, as if consoling her and she sighed with her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Sir." So soft, barely heard.

"Oh sweetheart, thank YOU. You are such, such a good girl."