Golden Rules Ch 04

**Disclaimer: This story contains a lot of very sexually explicit writing. It involves pee. every single character is over 18 years old.**

We attended our last classes of the day. Due to Chelsea's interruption, I wasn't able to finish up my assignments. The library was slightly noisier than usual. I had a feeling the trending topic was the upcoming dance. The buzz in the room was nearly electric though, and it was slightly contagious. I took my seat in the corner of the encyclopaedia section and set to work.

Not only five minutes later was Chelsea back at my side, having sniffed me out once again. She sat on the desk, hands by her sides. I glanced at her quickly to acknowledge her and turned back to my work.

"So, are you excited for the dance?"

I knew it was going to be brought up. It really was all that anyone was talking about. I inwardly sighed and pushed myself away from the desk, giving Chelsea my undivided attention.

"I guess. But why are they coming to our school for a dance?"

"They have no girls, simple as that. It's supposed to be a union between both our schools, like an act of peace. But we're not at war. Not even our sports teams compete with one another." She explained. I nodded, more questions bubbling up.

"So, what do we do at this dance?" Chelsea let out a slight laugh at that.

"What?"

"Well, there's a DJ, dancing and food. I don't know if there will be booze or not, normally the boys from the other school bring some. Hidden of course."

I sat there a stared at Chelsea. She was hiding something from me, I knew it. There had to be more to this dance, or else why would she be so excited. Why would everyone be talking about it? We were in college after all, not middle school.

"You'll really like this dance, Gab. Don't worry." Chelsea reassured me, shifting in her spot atop the desk. She was squirming quite a bit actually. I had noticed it slightly when she initially sat down. I took a quick look at her face. She bit her lip in a desperate way.

"Do you have to... go?" I asked.

This felt awkward for a minute. Of all the people at this school, she was the last one I had imagined doing this, even though everyone pretty much did. Chelsea nodded at me, and glanced down at my homework. I looked at her, then at my assignment. Before I could stop her, she snatched the papers away and promptly sat on them. I stared at her incredulously.

"Don't you dare!" She only grinned. I went to pull the papers out from underneath her but she slapped my hands away.

"Chelsea!" I yelled.

A few people around me turned to stare, glaring at my sudden outburst. I shrugged meekly and turned back to my supposed friend.

"Chelsea... cut it out. This assignment is important!" I murmured under my breath, trying to express my seriousness. It was difficult when you couldn't raise your voice at all. She merely sat there, staring at me. I could tell she was having a hard time letting it go.

"Don't worry, you've got lots of time to recopy this. Plus I know you need to edit it all anyways."

That was technically true, but recopying the entire thing after what was going to happen to it was going to be a task in itself.

Suddenly though, I heard a small hiss. She was pissing on my assignment, literally. A puddle formed on the paper, soaking it and began running of the desk, dripping onto the carpet below.

She giggled the entire time while I glared at her. This was the one time I wasn't getting hot from someone peeing, only because it was all over my hard work.

She finished up and hopped off the desk.

"Well I've got to go. Have fun, I'll talk to you later!" she chirped, a smugness about her. I glared daggers at her the whole time.

Great, more work for me.

***

I didn't want to admit it, but after carefully and painstakingly recopying my entire assignment I did find a few errors that would have cost me deductions. I had originally planned on editing it, but I certainly didn't think I'd have to try to read a soggy, piss soaked piece of paper. I had to embarrassingly take it out of the library by hand, for if I put it in my bag it would surely fall apart.

As the weeks went by, Thanksgiving drew nearer and the excitement in the air was palatable. Girls were busy deciding which outfits they would wear, which hairdos would look best and whose shoes they could borrow. I vaguely remembered packing one or two dresses, not really thinking I'd have much use for them. Now that I recalled what I'd packed, they were definitely not suitable for this type of dance.

Begrudgingly, I knew what I had to do. Even though I was still slightly ticked at her for half-ruining my assignment, she was the only person I could really talk to about what to wear to this dance. After classes one Friday afternoon I ventured to her dorm room.

"See, redoing that assignment wasn't so bad!"

I watched as Chelsea rifled through her closet, pulling out dresses while humming and hawing. I nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. Do you have anything that will fit me?" she turned around holding up a dark blue number. It looked like it would have come to her knees, and my ankles.

"That's way too long!"

"Just try it on, with... these heels." She handed me a pair of black strappy heels. I quickly changed into the number and checked myself out in the mirror. It actually wasn't that bad, with the heels on the dress came to a perfect length mid-calf. However the colour wasn't doing it for me, it was too dark. I looked like I was trying too hard.

Eying up the closet I spotted a white dress with a sort of country look to it. It had a lacey bottom, a sweetheart neckline with two thin straps. Chelsea saw me staring at it, and she grabbed it out of the closet for me. Handing it to me, I held it against myself in front of the mirror. It looked as if it would come down just to my knees, which was good. At least it wasn't as short as the uniforms.

"Can I try this one?" I asked.

Chelsea nodded so I quickly changed into it. As I observed myself I knew this was the one. It wasn't too formal or too casual. Chelsea agreed with me, gushing that it would be perfect. It was as if this upcoming event were a prom, with nearly every girl in the school putting in on their priority list to look good.

"Can you please tell me why this dance is so highly anticipated?" I pleaded with my friend, trying to get her to spill a single bean. She, however, would not budge. A few more failed attempts later, and she actually booted me out of her dorm room!

I stood in the hall half stunned, her dress in my hands.

Back in my room, I laid on my bed, going over all the possible scenarios in my head of what was in store for me. Perhaps Chelsea was taking it too seriously. Perhaps every girl in this school was vain. It just seemed strange that the excited atmosphere buzzed around you every day.

Whatever the case may be, my eyelids were getting heavy. As I slowly began to drift off to lala-land, I was brought straight back to reality by a sharp notification. But just as I propped myself up on my elbows, I had an extremely dirty thought run through my head. I relaxed my body and no sooner than five seconds later I felt something warm in my panties. I let it out in small bursts, trying to tease myself in a way. Soon enough though the feeling was too strong, and I began to fully pee in my panties.

They grew more wet each second, the material soaking the liquid up, and soon a puddle formed around my crotch. Using my index finger, I pulled my panties down, in front of the stream to fully piss on my bed. I was so amazingly caught up in this hazy feeling, all I could think about was being naughty. I grabbed my comforter, squished it against my crotch and began soaking it. I could feel the material growing warmer and wetter. I began to grind it against my pussy, I had to bite my tongue from moaning. As soon as my stream stopped I felt myself climax, I arched my back, the pee soaked blanket pressed against my crotch.

I slumped back down, exhausted. I hadn't felt dirtier the entire time I was at this school! I just peed in my bed and came because of it!

These thoughts rang loudly in my head, bouncing around, uncontrollable. As soon as they started, though, they began to fade away as I slowly passed out, in my pee soaked bed.

***

I stood in front of the laundry machine, watching my sheets go through the wash cycle. It was a very boring thing, standing and watching your sheets, however I couldn't risk someone else seeing my sheets. As much as I had enjoyed what I did the other night, it was still embarrassing to think about.

I stood there for about five more minutes before I heard someone walk in. They set their basket down a few feet away from mine. Glancing to the side I saw a guy, perhaps a few years older than me, throwing his clothes in the wash. As he turned to face me I felt a jolt go through me.

I recognized him, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I attempted to hide my surprise, and quickly looked back at my foamy sheets, but I knew he saw it. I was too obvious, and know I felt his eyes on me. I could tell he knew who I was, and I was mortified. I hadn't had an encounter like this at the school yet, and I couldn't admit that I didn't enjoy what he did to me, what all those people did!

His footsteps began towards me, and I felt my body tense automatically. I half dreaded, half wanted him to approach me. Pretending to not really notice, I stared down at my nails, lightly picking out the imaginary dirt I saw. I felt his hand slightly bump my shoulder, so I sharply turned my head, in another mock surprise.

"Oh-" I began, but soon saw what was in his hand.

My pillow case, lightly stained from that infamous night. I felt the color drain from my face. In my rush to wash my sheets, which included my pillow cases, I must have failed to notice I dropped the thing! I had tried and tried to get that stain out, but it was permanently there, faded a bit.

"I believe you dropped this?" he gestured to the sheet with his head, a small smirk splayed across his lips. I took the sheet from him, and mumbled a thank you. I could not look him in the eye; I was so embarrassed I could have died.

Thankfully, I heard him walk away, leaving his clothing to wash. I felt a small pressure come off my shoulders, and I crumpled the pillow case in a ball and tossed it into the garbage can.

That day during classes, I had one professor who was quite angry for some reason. He must have been having a bad day, because no interpretation of the novel we were reading was good enough. Every response received a sarcastic, yet collected, reply from him. It grew so tiresome to him in the end, that he appeared numb to it all. As the class drew to a close, one girl in particular decided to raise her arm.

"sir," she said meekly, aware that everything within hearing range was being shot down "if the book is not open for interpretation by us, why are we reading it?" and with that every eye was on her.

This was the suicide question of all suicide questions, if they even existed.

Calmly, yet with great tension, the prof walked to her desk. The class was completely silent as he came to a stop at her desk. She looked up at him, trembling just ever so slightly, and I could tell as I sat directly behind the girl.

His hands went for the button of his pants, and he began to unzip the zipper. The students eyes widened and her face turned away automatically.

"Everyone please turn to page 168 and re read chapter 7 in its entirety." He looked down at the student, "go ahead, open your book."

She did as she was told, opening the book to the correct page. She followed the words with her finger, and I watched in horror as I say the profs fingers head for his pants.

Soon he was peeing on her book. The pages soaking up the liquid, her hand getting sprayed as well as her face. She kept on reading however, accepting the strange punishment. He let his head fall back as he continued to pee.

Redirecting the stream, he sprayed it on her blouse, her tits beginning to show through. I couldn't help but get slightly turned on by the sight of it all. The prof wasn't that much older than everyone else here, and his looks were ok.

I felt myself beginning to get a little wet, and was glad that the spectacle soon ended. Just as his fly was zipped, the buzzer sounded and we all left class. The girl sat at her desk, remaining behind. I stared at her as I left the class. Why was she staying there? The door shut as everyone emerged, and I noticed she was not among the other students. I suddenly grew jealous of what could possibly be going on behind those doors.

My last few classes weren't nearly as interesting as that one, and for the rest of the day my boredom plagued me. My last class was a particularly boring one. I was drifting off, comfortably on my desk when I felt a small peck at my forehead. Opening my eyes I saw a piece of paper, crumpled up.

I cautiously took the paper in my hands, looking around to find the perpetrator. My eyes settled on the exact eyes that saw me doing my laundry. I had no idea he was in my class.

My heart began to thump as I opened the paper. I read it, my brain not comprehending the words, so I read it again to be sure.

Piss in your panties, right now.

Or I tell everyone.

The words were scratched onto the paper in what looked like a hurry. I looked back up at him, and he slowly nodded his head at me. I knew he was serious, he had already seen so much of me. If I didn't follow through with this, I knew I'd suffer extreme embarrassment, even though I had a good feeling I wasn't the only one who did what I did.

I decided for the professor to get into a long winded explanation of the subject at hand before I began to wet my panties, right there in my seat. I felt the warm puddle against my crotch again as I went on and on. It really did not feel like I was going to be able to stop. I looked at the guy again, and he had already turned back to face the front of the class. However I did see the guy behind him jerk his head suddenly. I looked at him, and his head was now facing forward, but something caught my eye.

He was hard. I could see a very noticeable and obvious erection poking in his pants. Was he watching my pee myself? The thought of my turning him on gave me a sudden rush. Even though what I was doing was shameful, there were others who enjoyed watching me do it. I felt an extra ounce of confidence run through me, and I sat up just a bit taller in my seat, feeling the pee slush around on my chair, soaking my skirt just a bit more.

Very casually, I glanced around the room to see if anyone else was in the same predicament. In my scan of the room, I counted three more boners. I couldn't believe it! Had they all seen me, was there someone else doing the same thing? I kind of hoped not.

After that class was over and as I made my way back to my dorm, I felt the urge to do it again. I wanted someone to see me pee myself, to enjoy it and get hard. I knew I had to be coy about it, to hide it a little, but where was I to go? As I wandered the halls aimlessly, I happened to pass by the gym.

The students inside were all hard at work stretching. But upon closer inspection, I noticed that it wasn't stretching, it was yoga.

Suddenly getting an idea, I looked around the gym doors for a corkboard. On it could possibly be a yoga sig up sheet. I found one, and on it read a few names that were obviously guys. Gleefully I jotted my name down in a particular time slot later that night.

***