His piss slut

I thought nothing of it when Sir called from work to order me to not use the bathroom until he came home. Controlling my bathroom habits had become an occasional kink of his.

Not a single drop is to escape from you.

I glance at the clock on my monitor and figure the math: two and three quarter hours before he gets off from work. Add in his fifteen minute drive and it will be a full three hours before I’d have a chance for relief. It was doable; it would be painful, but I knew I could do it. He’d once had me hold my piss for four hours. When I was finally allowed to piss it was nearly orgasmic.

When’s the last time you’ve drank anything?

About half an hour ago.

Good. Don’t drink anything else until I say otherwise. Understand?

I start to object but then it occurs to me that he might have made the order so as not to make me suffer any more than I had to. That’s not usually his style, but my gut says to not question it lest he make it worse. So I confirm my understanding of his orders and we say our goodbyes.

The first hour or so proves to be a cinch. However, the bladder that started off unnoticeable becomes unpleasantly full with an hour and an half left to go. My throat and mouth are fairly dry, but the sensation isn’t too bad yet. Eventually, his usual arrival time comes and I’m eager to beg for relief. But a few minutes pass without his presence, and a little worry starts at the back of my head that I won’t make it. I’m naked exactly as he wants me every day, and somehow I feel an accident is more likely to happen while I’m undressed. It was only the once that I’d held off for so long, and I had been fully clothed, and I wasn’t that confident in my control just yet. I do not want the shame of wetting myself like a child. I hope he’s not too late tonight.

Thirty-five minutes later, he strolls in and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so happy to see him. I get into position on my knees in front of him as quickly and carefully as I can. I don’t dare move my legs apart more than an inch or two. I know it would be my undoing, and he knows it, too. He looks down at me with a smirk and I return his gaze briefly before bowing my head.

How’s your bladder, little one?

Very full and, uh, it hurts, Sir.

Good. You’ve not had anything to drink, have you?

No, Sir.

You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?

Of course not, Sir!

That’s my good girl. I’m sure you’ve been wondering where I’ve been. Well, I had a couple quick beers with some co-workers. But now I think I’d like for you to suck my cock.

He likes to phrase things like requests, make his dominance seem passive, but I know better. In the beginning of our relationship I didn’t understand his ways, and I’d given smart replies a few times. I quickly learned that he had his own unique way of getting me to do what he wanted. Naturally, he let me learn the hard way. So now I waste no time in undoing his jeans and take his soft cock into my mouth. I work at making him hard and he smiles down at me, enjoying seeing my ministrations having the desired effect. His left hand winds its way into my hair and he pulls me onto his cock, shoving it down my throat. I gag and feel a couple droplets of piss slip out and roll amongst my folds. I push back against his hand and pull myself off his cock, my knees tight together, hoping I can still stave off the flow. His smile fades and he slaps me across the face.

Did I tell you to stop sucking my cock, bitch?

Ahhhhh! N-no, Sir, but you almost made me piss myself!

So? That’s my fucking right. Do you want to argue the point?

I stare at him for a handful of moments, feeling the burning sting on my right cheek, debating my options, and then I bow my head in a sign of resignation.

Good, slut. I’m done with your sucking. I have something else on my mind.

He puts his cock away and buttons his jeans. He pulls me to my feet and my bladder screams for release.

Ohhh, Sir, pleeease! I really need to pee!

You think I don’t know this, slut? Now shut up. You’ll piss when I’m damn good and ready for you to piss.

Although I know he’s getting angrier with me, the mounting pressure only increases my frustration. I dig deep into my reservoir of patience and keep my mouth shut as he pulls me down the hall. We enter our bedroom and he orders me to put on a pair of panties. I’m confused, but I obey. Once I’m finished, he grabs my arm again and pulls me out of the room and then farther down the hall to the bathroom where he pushes me inside.

Get in the tub and kneel, whore.

My brain freezes and I cannot comprehend what he’s just said. All sound seems to have been lost.

I said, get in the tub and fucking kneel!

I blink and the sound of his voice rushes around me and I remember what I had said to him a few weeks ago. But I thought we’d work up to this slower, over a period of months.

You like the idea of being my piss slut, don’t you?

Yes, Sir.

Tell me then.

I want your piss, Sir. I want you to piss in my cunt, my ass, my mouth... make me swallow every drop. I want your piss covering my body, drenching my hair, dripping onto my face and rolling down between my tits…

The words repeat in my head as I get into position in the tub. I wanted then, what’s about to happen, but I’m just not prepared now. The fear is a thrill up my spine and I worry that I might be too afraid to let myself go, that I might displease him. The negative thinking hits me hard in the gut, and he can read me so easily.

You will do this.

My mouth is beyond dry now and I can’t form any saliva to speak. My mouth opens and closes like a fish’s.

Oh, that’s right—you’re thirsty as well, aren’t you?

I can feel my eyes widen. No, no, wait—not so soon, please! I know what I said, but it was in the heat of the moment, but the taste…what if I don’t like the taste?! My mouth is working but, of course, nothing comes out except a croak.

He places a hand against my face, smoothes his thumb up and down my cheek.

You can do this. You want to please me, don’t you? You’re going to be such a good little piss slut for me, aren’t you?

His voice is soothing and I close my eyes, pressing my face against his hand.

You wanted this. Have you changed your mind?

He removes his hand but I keep my eyes closed. I think of all the times I was aroused by talking of being his piss slut, his toilet slave. I’d sometimes fantasize about it while masturbating and it never failed to get me off. I focused on those feelings now, and I could feel the beginnings of arousal, exacerbated by my heavy bladder. I open my eyes and he’s nude, pointing his cock mere inches from my face. Despite my initial reticence, I moan at the sight and look up into his eyes, making sure he can see the lust in them.

Do you want it now? Hmmm? Are you ready to be my piss slut?

Forgetting that I can’t speak, I open my mouth to say yes, and it’s all the confirmation he needs. There’s nothing for a second or two, then the stream hits its target. My head jerks back slightly, an involuntary startled move. His piss makes it to my taste buds and immediately I dislike the taste. I gasp and sputter while trying to swallow most of it but the damn taste gets to me. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he had beer earlier; I can taste the hops. That’s when it dawns on me: He knows I hate beer and he knew he was going to make me drink his piss tonight, so that’s why he had some after work. Bastard! But this knowledge only causes my arousal to go up a notch.

He stops in midstream and my own pressing need to piss rears its ugly head again. He orders me to bow my head and I obey, wincing only slightly when his warm piss streams through my hair. He walks around me and pisses all down my back. It seems he has a never ending pool of piss in his bladder. He must’ve not pissed for a while at work, building it up and saving it all for his good girl. Again he stops the stream, and this time he orders me into a sitting position with my back against the side of the tub. His piss runs in rivulets all over my body and I shiver as it starts to cool on my skin.

Spread your legs as far as you can.

I’m no longer surprised or befuddled by his demands; I simply obey. I know what he wants and I know I’ll give it to him. I want to give it to him.

That’s my good girl. Now piss for me.

I don’t know whether it was his order or just the fact that I needed to go so badly that made my body release at that exact moment, but I was so happy when it did. A low moan emanated from my newly moistened mouth and a second later I felt his hot stream hit my panties, our piss combining and soaking the cloth. It feels so good to let go and empty myself that his pissing on me becomes a welcome, sensual sensation. I moan his name.

Rub your clit, Piss Slut.

My left hand slips into my panties and I discover my clit is engorged. Suddenly I feel the throbbing that must’ve been there all that time he was pissing on me, but I had been lost in the moment of being his piss slut. I rub my clit furiously, my arousal not dimmed by my empty bladder. I moan and thrust my hips.

Mmmmmhhh, Siiirr!

Come for me, my piss slut; come while my piss is drying on your body, while our piss dampens your panties.

With him egging me on like that, I am simply a goner. The orgasm is a warm, electric rush through my body and my legs strain as my hips repeatedly thrust. A growl rips from my lips and I can’t believe how hard I’m coming, how much I wanted this. More of my piss pours from me but his stream has ended. He’s now watching me writhe and piss, stroking his cock into hardness.

Take off your panties, Cunt, and place them on the floor here. Now get out of the tub and get on your hands and knees with your face in your panties.

I do as he tells me and once I’m in position, he comes up and rams his cock hard inside me. I scream but it’s muffled by my piss-soaked panties. The smell is sharp—his piss is infused with the hops while mine reeks of the coffee I had before his call. Sir fucks me hard and fast, one hand holding both my wrists behind my back, the other holding a hip to keep me in place.

Suck…the piss…from… your…panties, Slut.

The hand that was holding my hip cracks down on my ass and I squeal into the cloth. I open my mouth and suck as much of the fabric into my mouth as I can. The taste hasn’t improved with the addition of mine, but I suck and suck, while Sir continues his assault on my hole. I make slurping noises occasionally mingled with a moan or squeal. Soon…

I’m going to come, you filthy Piss Slut. I’m going to fill your piss-soaked hole!

His announcement makes me suck even more frantically and within seconds I feel his seed explode deep inside me. He releases my arms and collapses onto my back while I continue rooting around in my slowly drying panties. He pulls his cock out and rears back from my body. Distantly, I can feel his come start to ooze out of my abused hole and leak down my legs.

You can stop now, Piss Slut.

I come up for air, gasping and licking the remnants of piss from my lips. I whimper.

What? What does my good girl want? Do you need to come again, is that it?

I nod.

Oh, you are such a dirty, filthy slut. You’ve pleased me so much tonight, my good girl. I’m very proud of you. You may come again, but you must wear your used panties on your face while you do. And then I want you to shower before coming to bed. Understand?

Y-y-yes, Sir.

He leaves and I place my panties on my face, and I dip a finger into my creamed hole. As I rub his come over my clit I realize that I’m starting to actually like the smell of piss…his and mine. I relive the evening in my head and bring myself to a delicious orgasm, moaning Sir’s name over and over.

I turn on the shower and inhale deeply our combined scent one last time before washing it all away.