flint

Piss Shy, Part Eight

Standard

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

Flint reached under my armpits and hauled me up to my feet, leading me into the bathroom. He sat me down on the toilet and guided my hand over to the toilet paper. I sat, waiting for him to leave, until I realized he was still standing there. 

“I can’t do that with you here,” I said, tugging the blindfold off of my eyes. WRM walked into the doorway and I threw my hands over my eyes, “oh my gosh, everyone get out and close the door. I don’t need an audience.”

“Actually, I think you do,” Flint replied, leaning out the door and calling Lida and Macy inside. 

It took me forever to be able to urinate in front of Sir. At first, he had to stand by the sink and look away. Then, he had to stand in front of me while I looked away from him. Then, he had to hold my chin and look in my eyes until eventually I was finally comfortable enough to do it. But it was a whole process. A process that wasn’t about to be circumvented in front of a whole audience. 

“I can’t,” I insisted. 

Flint shrugged, “well, you’re going to have to.” He stepped out for a moment and I stared anxiously at the group in the doorway, but my fear peaked when he returned with a box of black latex gloves.

Yeah, apparently they make black ones, go figure.

He snapped the glove onto his hand and knelt down in front of me. “You’ve got to the count of ten or I am going to go down there and make you.”

I gazed back over to the girls in hope of some sort of clemency, but found none. “Can…can we turn on the water and talk about oceans?" 

WRM reached for the faucet. Flint raised his hand. "Don’t turn it on.”

I bit my lower lip and looked at my feet. “Can everybody just leave the room for a minute?”

“Nope,” Flint replied and placed his bare hand on my stomach, applying pressure to my bladder. He brought the gloved hand just below my clitoris. “So, what I’m going to do here is massage the clitoral -”

“I know what you’re doing!” I shrieked over his explanation.

“ – to essentially force the urine out of you. And you’ve got ten seconds to do it yourself or I’m doing it for you." Flint smirked, "remember your safe words?" 

I nodded, "yeah, yellow and red.”

“And?” He asked, ensuring I was actually still game and consenting to what was about to go down.

Part of me wanted to call it off right then, but part of me liked the tension of it, how absolutely nervous I was. I enjoyed the catch 22: I needed to relax to get myself out of the situation, but there was no possible way that this sort of situation would enable me to relax. The closer I got to the bottom of the countdown, the more tense I became. And as much as I despised the total violation of him forcing me to urinate, I would be lying if I didn’t say I couldn’t close my eyes right now and still picture myself in that bathroom, seeing the smirk on his face, and revisiting that swelling nervousness with at least a remote feeling of arousal.

“I have to pee,” Lida said.

“Good!” I exclaimed, “good! Let her go first.”

“Lida doesn’t pee in the toilet, silly,” Flint replied, not leaving me any time to contemplate what that meant before adding, “now, come on.” He resumed counting and I squeezed my eyes shut, begging every last inch of my urinary system to just cooperate. When he reached the end of the countdown, Flint rose to his feet and removed the glove, patting my cheek. “Next time, you’re going to be expected to do it. Or I will go down there and I will absolutely do it for you. Are we clear?” I nodded and he ushered the girls out.

The second the last set of feet left the bathroom, I was finally able to urinate. 

“It happened!” I exclaimed, “floodgates are open." 

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Flint called from the living room.

Gallery

Piss Shy, Part Seven

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

Flint had the girls try to hold me down, but I was inevitably and usually able to throw them off from a combined force of the absolute distress of being tickled and the fact that I was thankfully stronger. It turned into a repeated process of the girls trying to hold me down, Flint tickling me, and me throwing them off and curling up into a ball until they succeeded in pinning me back down or Flint ordered me to hold still.

Eventually, Flint had Lida crawl up on top of me and kiss me while he beat her with something. As I was blindfolded, I couldn’t tell what. Lida kissed cutely, shyly. Her mouth was small and her lips pursed like a guppy’s. I reached up, running my hands over her back and shoulders, pulling her to me each time I felt her jump from the beating.

“Now come on, Ivy, you’re here to entertain us. Touch yourself,” Flint said as Lida climbed off of me. “And be careful. Your owner said you couldn’t cum." 

I laid back and rubbed my pussy, thankful for the blindfold that allowed me to at least pretend I wasn’t being watched by a roomful of people. Lida and Macy were still touching me, idly discussing things like lingerie and shopping. But, after a little while, I realized I had to use the bathroom.

"Hey, ah…WRM? Flint?” I called out.

“Not here,” Lida replied, “in the other room.”

“Well, can you get them?” I asked, “I…um…I have a pee.”

“Kind of scared to move,” Macy admitted, “we’re not supposed to…” She thought for a moment, “you can go over there, they’re just in the next room. Just, ah, crawl over.”

After banging my head on a corner, I managed to make my way to the door. I knocked on the door before hearing it swing open. 

“Yes?” Flint asked.

I bit my lip. “I…ah…I have to pee.”

And this was where the trouble started. 

Gallery

I’m hanging out with Flint tomorrow.

Apparently I’ve got to clean up the mess I made in his car, which he has apparently been pointing out to people to explain exactly how it got there.

I’m hoping this strategy will keep me (relatively) safe and get me out of trouble.

Right? Right.

Gallery

Piss Shy, Part Six

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

“Come here,” WRM said when the video had ended, motioning for me to move closer to the couch. I crawled over before sitting back up and resting my hands on my knees. However, my arms were forced over my head as WRM pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside.

“Look at this,” she murmured, her mouth curling into a grin as she hooked her thumbs under the straps of my bra. “Did you wear this special for us?”

“I…no…” I blushed. “Just wore it because I can’t get away with not wearing a bra with this shirt.”

WRM grinned harder. “If it’s not special, it comes off.” I pulled my bra off and set it aside. Flint reached forward and grabbed my arm, tugging me up so I was up on my knees. WRM unzipped my skirt as Flint hauled me up to my feet, and soon I found myself naked in the middle of the room. 

With a hand in my hair, WRM tugged me back down to my knees and kissed me deeply. “Two fingers in your pussy, right now,” Flint said. “You’ve got three chances to get yourself wet enough that when you pull your fingers apart, you’ve got a string between them.” The combination of him counting down and the eyes on me inevitably made me fail. 

“So,” Flint began as Lida emerged from the shower. He grabbed a towel and laid it down on the floor. “Anybody into group stuff? Getting used by a group, getting thrown into a group blindfolded, all that stuff?” Gingerly, I raised my hand.

WRM chuckled, “oh, Ivy loves blindfolds.”

“Yeah?” Flint asked, “now, why didn’t I know that?”

The rest panned out like a bunch of vignettes, blurry around the edges, my heartbeat thumping in my ears. Flint put the blindfold on me and had me lie down. Then, there were hands, fingers. WRM was between my legs, biting my thighs and making me jump and whine. Besides that, I couldn’t tell who was doing what.

“Now, hold her down so I can tickle her,” I heard Flint say.

Fucker.

Gallery

Piss Shy, Part Five

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

WRM arrived and greeted me with a kiss before settling onto the couch. I sat down in the floor in front of her and she leaned down and kissed me, placing her hands on my shoulders and scratching her nails over my back. 

Flint’s primary, Lida, showed up soon after in a sweatshirt and a pair of lycra workout pants. He sent her off to the shower, telling her to come back in her bra, her panties and the pants. While she was washing off, Flint told Macy to show WRM a video she’d made of her. Apparently she was drinking…something.

Yeah, yeah, I’m pretty sure I know what it was. 

“Look at her,” Flint said to me as we watched Macy sit beside WRM, showing her the video. She was actually watching along – which I give her major credit for, because I’d be hiding behind my hands in two seconds. “Look at her face.”

I chuckled nervously, “yeah. That’s contrition." 

"Should be,” Flint replied, sitting down on WRM’s other side, “what she did was disgusting. Do you want to watch?”

I shook my head, blushing.

“Why not?” Flint asked.

“I like to be excluded,” I replied. 

He smirked, pointing next to the television. “Go kneel over there,” he ordered. “Hands behind your head.” I moved over and got myself into position. “Legs wider,” he said, and I adjusted. 

Making sure my posture was straight, I watched the three of them: Macy’s face a little pale from the humiliation, WRM smirking with the sort of amusement that indicated that she was both glad and a little jealous that the girl in the video wasn’t her, Flint somewhere between smug and proud. 

Piss Shy, Part Four

Standard

Flint pulled out a key and pushed the door open, letting me in. His partner, Macy, was sitting on the couch in a dress and a shawl, watching television. “Nice dress,” Flint said as he stepped inside, “take the shawl off and get on the floor." Macy slipped the shawl from her shoulders and slid onto the floor, folding her legs beneath her.

"How’s it going?” I asked, setting my purse down. “Could I use your bathroom?” Macy pointed. My head was a mess of nervousness and excitement, to the point that I had forgotten I was even wearing shoes and attempted to cross the living room. 

Flint swung an arm out and cut me off while I was walking, catching me in the gut and knocking the air out of my chest. “Take your shoes off,” he ordered. I stumbled out of my shoes before dashing into the bathroom.

Once I was out, Flint grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall. He leaned down to kiss me, and I had to struggle to my toes to kiss him back. Pulling back, he slapped my face and told me to go sit down on the couch and wait for WRM and his primary to arrive.

I sat down on the couch, clapping my hands on my knees and smiling nervously at Macy down on the floor. I’d met Macy once before, at the first munch, but I hadn’t realized how young she was. I was envious, confessedly, remembering where I was at eighteen and seeing how uninhibited she was about doing the things that excited her. She’s also just striking as hell, with gorgeous hair and sharp cheekbones. 

“You’re cute,” Macy said.

I shook my head. “Sheesh, me? Thanks.” Flint sat down and put an arm around me. “I didn’t realize – you’re just a baby." 

Looking down at Macy, I couldn’t help but remind myself that this girl was five years younger than me. It had been five years since I’d first started even remotely acknowledging what I’d wanted, and I’d been at a significantly different place at eighteen. I was scared and reticent, just beginning to understand that I was allowed to ask for the things that made me feel free.

Still, it had been a long five years. 

Gallery

Piss Shy, Part Three

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

I hitched up my skirt and started rubbing my clit, I hadn’t worn panties that day, a fact that I was now grateful for as I considered the humiliating possibility of having to lower them around my knees. Despite the fact that I was petrified that someone might see, even if it was nighttime, and despite the fact that I was humiliated, or maybe because of it, I was soaking wet. 

The door swung open and Flint walked past me, gesturing for me to follow. “Very nice,” he said, and I tugged my skirt back down and shuffled after him. “Now clean that up, fingers in your mouth. It comes out of you, it goes back into you.” I nodded, shoving my fingers into my mouth. We got in the car, buckled up, and headed off to his partner’s house.

“So,” he asked while we waited at a stoplight. “what are the tallies for? What happens when you hit eight?”

For the thousandth time that hour, my cheeks burned. “Eight ounces in a cup. Each tally is an ounce. And at eight, I…” I sucked a deep breath in through my nose and glanced out the window, “I drink a cup of my own piss.”

It was something Sir had come up with. I would be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t five thousand percent reticent about it, but I also would be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly, deep-in-the-stomach, vaguely intrigued by the idea. So, I agreed, totally reluctantly, and hoped that I’d never do anything horrible enough to get up to eight tallies.

But, now I was at two. One quarter of the way there. 

“That’s disgusting,” Flint said through a grin, chuckling and shaking his head. “I bet you want to make sure you don’t get any more tallies tonight, huh? You’d better be on your best behavior.”

I nodded, “yeah. I’d like it if you were able to tell him that I was a good girl tonight.”

“Well, that’s entirely up to you, isn’t it?” He patted my knee. “By the way, I like the way you trail along to keep up with me.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Sir says I’m supposed to heel.” This got another laugh out of him.

When we reached his partner’s place, I got out of my seat and noticed I’d dripped right onto the seat. Before Flint could see it, I wiped it up with my hand and licked it off of my palm. 

Piss Shy, Part Two

Standard

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

Sir had established that if I wanted to play with Flint, Flint had to contact him and negotiate with him directly. As we were hanging out and having a drink, I noticed Flint texting and felt my stomach tie itself in knots. Prior, he had asked me if what he was doing was all right, and I gave him the go ahead and thanked him for checking in. But watching him negotiate with Sir and having no idea what was on or off the table made me squirm in my seat.

“What are you saying to him?” I texted to Sir.

“Let the grown-ups talk,” he texted back, and I felt my cheeks flush.

In some effort to try to reclaim a vague sense of control over the situation, I started sassing Flint while we all hung around. This worked for about two minutes, before he placed his hand into my hair and asked if I thought giving him attitude was a very good idea when he’d already gotten me one tally. 

After we left the bar, we headed off to his partner’s house – the one we had hung out with earlier – to retrieve his car. As we walked, we went over my limits. He was respectful, asking me to elaborate when needed, offering scenarios that may have fallen into a grey area and asking where I went if such a scenario were presented. “And I don’t know about taking off my clothes,” I finished off. “I’ll see how I feel?”

“Well, here’s the thing,” Flint replied. “Your owner gave me permission to remove your clothes. So, I guess that’s settled, now isn’t it?”

I blushed and nodded. Sure, I could still veto it, but it wasn’t honestly a limit. It was more a silly way for me to retain some control over a situation where I seriously, honestly just wanted to relinquish control. Not to mention the whole idea that Sir had told him to take off my clothes kind of made my heart flutter. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

We reached the house and walked up the driveway to the side door. I went to follow Flint inside, but he put a hand up to stop me.

“I’m going to go grab my things,” he said, approaching the door. “You stand right here and masturbate until I come out.”

I dropped my hands over the front of my skirt. “What?”

He turned to face me, “was any of that unclear?”

“N…no,” I stammered a reply.

He placed his hand on the door, “is there a problem, then?”

I shook my head, “no.”

With that, he opened the door and slipped inside, leaving me alone out on the driveway. 

Piss Shy, Part One

Standard

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

Aside from the endlessly awesome and adorable worthlessrapemeat, I met some really cool people at the munch last week and have been talking to a few of them. One in particular, Flint, was super welcoming at the munch. He was the one who introduced me to WRM (hence, Flint, because he’s good at making sparks. Heh heh I’m the cleverest.) WRM and I ended up hanging out with him and a few of his partners after the munch, and he and I have been texting since. 

Yesterday, he, one of his partners and I met up to hang out before another munch event. WRM was going to join us for dinner right before and potentially drinks after, as she had somewhere else to head off to during the discussion.

I met up with Flint and his partner after work, and we spent a little time walking around town and talking before his partner had to split. 

Things with Flint were going pretty great. He’s super quick-witted, a little sarcastic, vaguely menacing when he wants to be. I got a little brave and linked him to this tumblr, so he’s able to read this (eek) and he was able to follow Sir (eek) and so Sir has been teasing me that he may or may not have been in contact with him (eek.) 

But by far the absolute worst part of the whole thing is the fact that about halfway through hanging out, he figured out that I was ticklish. So, before getting together with WRM, Flint started trying to trick me into lifting my arm so he could tickle me (asshole.) 

“You and my boyfriend would get along,” I said, trying to test the waters to see if any of Sir’s little threats of them having spoken were substantiated. “You’re both jerks like that.”

Flint smiled, “well, maybe I’ll get to talk to him.” 

I grinned. So, Sir had been just making empty threats this whole time. He and Flint weren’t conspiring. They hadn’t even spoken. 

We met up with WRM for dinner and to compare notes on people from the last munch: who we thought was cute, who we thought was totally creepy, who was now randomly harassing us on fetlife. Before Flint and I headed off to the munch, WRM kissed goodbye.

“I’m jealous of you,” Flint admitted, “jealous of her, too, actually.”

The munch was a little bit of a bust, so we ended up breaking off as a smaller group and going out to get drinks. Flint was still being a serious meanie and tickling me, but had invited me to hang out with his primary and one of his other partners after to potentially play a little bit. I liked how things were going with him, so while we headed over to the bar, I texted Sir to ask him if I could play with Flint and if I could have a drink at the bar.

“Sorry,” I explained to Flint, trying to balance holding his hand in my left and texting with my right, “I’m texting Sir to get permission to have a drink.”

Flint cocked a brow. “Did you get permission for the wine at dinner?” 

I brought my index finger to my lips, shooting him a “shh” and a wink. Hopefully, he’d keep the glass of wine I’d had without asking – a careless oversight – to himself. Or, simply have forgotten about it by the time he actually spoke to Sir, if ever.

When we were heading to our table, Flint walked up next to me and placed his hand on the small of my back. He leaned down, whispering, “he’s disappointed in you for not asking. Oh, and you’re up to two tallies now.”

I froze, staring up at him as if he’d just sucker punched me in the gut. He smiled. My mouth fell open before I actually started talking. “How’d you…you just…you…”

He smirked and strode past me.