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By *renz OP Man
over a year ago
Between Chichester and Havant |
I open the door and walk in, removing my jacket.
You are stood, naked, eyes down to the right of my chair. Glass of red wine, beside my chair, ready for me. I throw my jacket onto the top of your head, so it covers your face. I walk into the bathroom, undress and get into the bath. Hot, just how i like it. Book and cup of tea to the side. As I sink into it and relax i wonder how you do it? Hot tea, hot bath and still stand beside my chair, waiting for me, without looking flustered. You will though!
After an hour's soak i get out, dry myself, dress comfortably and come through. You are still stood, not having moved, my jacket still covering your face. Everything as it should be. I remove my jacket from atop of your head, so I can gaze into your face. So I can see everything that goes through your mind, echoed through your face. Still looking down, I watch the tremors pass through your body. Faint to start with, but the longer I sit here, they increase. I tell you to look into my eyes. As you do so, I can see a tiny hint of mischief in them. That won't last, though, not this evening. I drink some more of the wine, smiling at you. You must be needing it shortly. The shivers become fidgets, my smile turns to a grin. I know what you want, what you want to ask. We've played this before, but tonight will be very different. The fidgeting increases, you want to say something, to ask me something.
I wave my hand giving you permission to speak.
"Sir, please can I go to the bathroom?"
"To do what?" I ask.
"I need to pe....piss! Sir!
"Ask me again in 10 minutes".
I see the look that crosses your face. One of desperation, your eyes travel to the clock. Watching. Every. Second. Tick. By.
I continue to watch you. Watch you fidget. You almost think about push a hand between your legs. I'm not sure what you think that would do!
The clock ticks away the 10 minutes.
Again, you say. "Please Sir, can I visit the bathroom?" The desperation in your voice greater than before.
I look at you as I take a another mouthful of my wine. I allow you the fidgeting, its quite endearing in its own way. Again,
"Please! Sir, please!" The desperation, very real.
"No!" I say.
I can see tears forming.
"But Sir, I'm so desperate, if you don't allow me I will piss myself! Please Sir!"
I finish my last mouthful of wine hand it to you and sit back watching. You take the wine glass, look at it strangely, then it registers.
"But Sir, its not big enough and I'm not sure I could stop when I start!"
"Well, you'll have to empty it then, won't you?"
"But Sir, where do I empty it, if I can't move from here?"
I watch as you look around, looking for somewhere to empty it, within reach. There isn't anywhere. Your confusion turns to understanding.
"You don't mean, you can't mean I have to....drink it?"
"You say you are desperate, you cannot move from there, there is no where else for it, so yes, you'll have to dispose of it anyway you see fit and if drinking your own piss is the only way, then that's what I expect you to do! No spillages or it will be the worse for you!" as I glance over to my belt, rolled up with pride of place on the table.
I continue to watch as your face is conflicted, but finally you place the glass between your thighs. I watch as you squirt liquid into it, slowly at first, pushing the glass into you, so as not to miss it. You stop, not wanting to overfill it. Removing the glass, you lift it, up towards your face, to your lips, a grimace as it touches them. First you sip, screwing your face up, almost gagging on the liquid, but then a gulp as your bladder reminds you of its fullness. Empty glass! Back down pushing into your cunt, refilling, back to your mouth, little or no hesitation this time, you swallow and empty the glass. I watch the drip on your cunt lips form, getting bigger, heavier until it falls onto the carpet. You don't seem to have noticed. Filling the glass, emptying it, until you have pissed your last.
"Finished?", I ask. A nod of your head. I stand up, walk over to you, wipe your lips with my finger and tell you, you have been a good girl! Although I did notice a few drips drop onto the carpet! I tell you to bend over the arm of my chair as I pick up my belt from the table. I administer the first stroke and hear a sigh of contentment escape from your lips.
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