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.