Pussypissy

She sent the text at the last moment.

i know you want me to call in a minute, but may i pee first?

On the verge of heading out of her room to go, since He never controlled that part of her, the chime of the text drew her back. She really needed to pee, but she was as obedient to the text chime as a Pavlovian dog to its bell.

No. Call now.

She blinked. Really? Now? Geeze, how had she let the time slip away like that? Proofreading her blog took time, but she’d not realized she’d gone into the story for that long.

Sliding up onto her bed, she dialed.

So, you need to take a piss.

Hell of a way to start a conversation, she thought. “Yes, Master, I do need to pee.” She felt the blush come, and was glad that He couldn’t see her. While she had once fantasized about someone owning her enough to control every aspect of her life, she understood the impracticality of it.

And yet.

Every now and then He threw her a curve ball, and she found herself bending to His implacable will to catch it.

“So, slut, you were going to fob me off and be late for our ‘date’ because you needed to take a piss?”

The tone was mild, yet there was a small rebuke in there.

“I’m sorry, Master. I was working on the blog and time slipped away and then…”

“Excuses, excuses, slut.” He cut through her reasons quickly. He was not interested in “why’s”…but in results. She wondered what the penalty would be for this, minor though it was.

“So, my slut has to pee, and yet…it’s time to fuck.”

She blinked. He was going to ….and not let her…..

“Yes Master,” she answered hastily.

“Gosh, I hope you don’t piss on your sheets. That would be uncomfortable for sleeping in, wouldn’t it?”

She cleared her throat. Tried to swallow down the embarrassment.

“Well, Master, you know…sometimes a full bladder can …um…enhance the feelings from masturbating.”

There was a pause.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we? Get your powerful vibe. And that dildo with the curve in it.”

She loved that combination. Yet…that curved dildo that pressed so nicely against her g-spot, would also press up towards her bladder. How fucking devious was that? Add the vibe pressing against her and she’d be hard pressed to ‘hold it’….the Bastard!

**********

Somehow, lord knew how, she’d managed to hold onto her throbbing bladder. Through the pegging of her nipples. And her belly. And the slapping of those tight-grasping clothes pins. How the pain turned her on, how the full load of her bladder turned her on, how Him taking all the power, all the control turned her on.

When it was over, when three orgasms had painted her sheets with a dousing of sex juice (and not a drop of urine!), she lay back against the pillows, spent. Yet, her nipples and belly, still clamped, throbbed firmly.

And her bladder was yelling.

“Master?”

“Yes, slut? What now? What could you possibly need now? Three orgasms and you’re still asking for things?”

She heard the humor there. He was going to make her beg, she just knew it. But first things first.

“Um, the pegs, Master…?”

“Yes? What about them?”

“uh…they’re still on my nipples and belly, Master.”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“Oh, are you asking a question, little girl?”

Her toes curled against the sheets. The casual way He wielded His power over her was a thrill.  “Yes, Sir. May I take the pegs off my nipples and belly?”

“Hit them again for me.”

She did, moaning.

“One would think that it hurt to obey me, little girl.”

She giggled, despite the pulling pain from the pegs.  “Yes Master, it does indeed.”

“Very well, you may take them off…tonight I’m being so indulgent with you, letting you open them to take them off. Another night, I’m just going to have you pull them.”

She moaned, thinking of the pain of that, and could feel her pussy clench. She was so close to another orgasm…His voice, His will, the pain, the promise of future pain…and the unceasing throb from her bladder.

One last thing, little girl, and then I’ll let you go take a piss. Starting now, and until further notice, I want you to text me each and every time you pee. Not for permission, just informing me.

Understood?

And…I want you to text a specific word…”pussypissy”…because I can imagine  your piss streaming down onto your pussy, washing all that cum into the toilet. What a picture!

*******

At long last she got to the bathroom, releasing her full bladder. She could feel cum dripping, just as He’d imagined. Returning to her room, she sent the first required text:

pissypussy

Snuggling into her blankets, she was surprised when her text chimed.

PussyPissy is an activity;  PissyPussy is an attitude! Get it right next time.

With a smile, she slid under the blankets, and off to sleep.

He’s a FUCKING Bastard….

Sorry to interrupt your reading of “Felicitations” dear pervie friends–i know i have left you hanging in a most terrible fashion. Not that you don’t expect that of me anyway….however, this time it is not. my. fault.

okay Master, i’m getting to it, really!

I need to back up a few days. To HNT day, actually. You’ll remember that there was a small pic of me at the end, what Master calls a “teaser pic” that doesn’t show all that much ‘stuff’?

seriously Master, you’re SO impatient. i can see you, sitting there at ‘our’ table, reading this ‘shit’ and saying to yourself, c’mon nilla get with it. Fix IT!

You’ll have to forgive these little asides. For as you are sitting and reading this with your morning coffee/tea/cocoa…Master and i are at Starbucks, and He is reading this.

Yes, right now.

Really.

I’ve been “tasked” to this particular post, you see. Which is why “Felicitations” has been bumped to tomorrow.  And i wonder if you’re reading faster knowing those two things…that He’s tasked me, and with that title up above there…

Coz, yanno? He really is a marshmallow Mean Fucking Bastard. *giggle*

i’m trying to be serious about this Master, really i am. i see you looking up at me with those stunning, leonine eyes of Your’s, ready to cut me to ribbons with that piercing gaze…keep reading, trust me, it gets better….

So, we, Master and i, were talking during FNF. He was verrrrry tired. About as tired as i’ve ever heard His voice. We talked for a long time, but no playing. It was just…sweet talk

i didn’t say that Master…see? Those are strike-throughs up there.  Everyone who reads here  knows…and understands, that i misspoke…just a wee bit…up there…

right everyone?

note to self….(no giggling out loud)

So we were talking and He was all Dommy and mean, you know how Doms are, right? (grin)  We were talking about spanking and tit torture, and assfucking, and hugging all sorts of other torturous things.

And we spoke a bit about the blog. This blog, not the Dark Fantasies one. And i remembered right then,  that i’d neglected to tell Him my status count for this weeks HNT. So i did that, and then mentioned that i’d said He was sweet.

You know, in the post.

This post…go ahead, i’ll wait. It’s right there at the beginning. And i kinda said it quickly, and kept right on going …and He drew me up short.

“Whoa…whoa…what? What did you just say?” He says in this incredulous voice. And the words “uh. oh” start floating in my head.

And i’ll confess here and now that i stalled told him hesitantly. Coz…yanno. I *know* that tone. Not quite the same tone He used Thursday night when we were on the phone and He was yelling at His GPS lady (He called her a presumptuous cunt!!!) for interrupting Him while He was talking. (Which, btw, made me hysterical!)

But i did, eventually, mutter “I said you were sweet” in this tiny voice. Which He made me repeat, only to holler say calmly “you did what?!”

You did holler, too, Master, but i struck that part out, coz, yanno, I didn’t want people to think you were a total Asshole. Then again…hmmm…that is the point of this isn’t it?    Wait …is this  like one of those stupid math problems? You know the kind, Master…. A train leaves Boston at 9:32 headed for Cleveland, while another train leaves Chicago 4 minutes later. At what point do they cross the equator. It is, isn’t it….??…anyway, i digress…

Now, you all know that Master is a right tough Sadist. You’ve seen the pics of His handiwork a few weeks ago…so you all know He’s rather firm handed with me.

And oh, how i love that!

Love that He takes charge, love that He hurts me so good. But the “sweet” comment? Well,  it’s ruined His “street cred”…who’s gonna believe that a “sweet” guy is a Fucking Bastard?

Who would believe that someone who poured a bunch of sweet on His slut would also do this:

Am i right?

Surely, only the deepest, darkest kind of Sadist would inflict this kind of pleasure hurt on His submissive slut, right?

see Master? did You have *any* doubt that i’d get around to the ‘good part’….eventually?

You know i see You, sitting there, looking up at me and giving me the “Hairy Eyeball” look…the one that makes me giggle nervously…and makes me all squishy and wet …

*big smile*

Must be because i’ve done “IT”…fixed it all up nice and tidy, so that everyone now knows the truth about You…yes? Big Bad Ass Dominant Master of nilla (the slut..wait, i think that’s redundant…nilla is synonymous with ‘slut’…)

Coz really, pervie friends, He is the sweetest meanest most ornery Man you’d ever chance to run across …

what’s that Master? i said it again?

i did not.

it’s a strike out, see? And You know, Master that whatever is struck out is just totally disregarded by my readers. Oh, yes, they grok it.

*giggle*

Whoops, sorry there Master…that one just kind of slipped out.

Yes, You know i am taking this assignment totally seriously.

Oh, BTW Master? There’s a teeny little heart stuck on Your back. From when i hugged You when i got here.  🙂

*giggle*

*giggle*

*guffaw*

(He’s not the only one who’s “bad” !)