Skip to content


Part II, the follow up to Used.
TW: Bodily fluids, watersports, toilet restriction and degradation (again)


At dinner I am not allowed wine, only a pint glass of iced water which I am told must be finished. After that, another one is brought. They have already chosen my menu – soup to start, cucumber salad with chicken and then a slice of cake that comes swimming in a pool of thin custard. Still, I don’t make the connection when I start to feel pressure on my bladder.

I raise my hand.

“Yes?” he doesn’t look up from their conversation about house prices.

“Please may I use the toilet?”

They look at each other and smirk.

“No. Finish your water.”
Icy dread laced with arousal floods my nervous system. I take a gulp from my glass and slowly finish my cake, as they share a dark chocolate mouse.

I am not going to make a mess on the chair.

He makes a point of ignoring me, and the meal stretches on – coffees for them, more water for me – and it is past midnight when he finally settles the bill. He threads his arm through hers and I follow a couple of paces behind them, watching the backs of her heels as we head out into the night.

The house is very warm after the chilly walk back to his house. I am left standing in the hallway, and presently another glass of water is brought to me, and I swallow it down with apprehension. He catches the look in my eye and shakes his head before I can ask again.

He unbuttons my dress, leaving it in a heap on the floor, and has me follow him upstairs to the beautiful guest bathroom. She is already there, perched daintily on the toilet seat, sipping champagne and texting, though she sets the items aside to cheerily approach me, kiss me and gently remove my bra, leaving the white cotton knickers he dressed me in before dinner.

She places her hand over my pubic mound,, pressing down until the urge to pee rises again and I press my thighs together, crossing my feet to stop myself from having an accident. He is necking the champagne from the bottle as he watches.

“Bend over the bathtub for me, lovely.” she coos, and I bend over the rim with my hands on the bottom of the tub.
“Good girl. Ten first.”
Though she is small, she is made of power and light. She doesn’t hold off, start sweetly and build to pain. Ten even strokes rain down – five on each buttock – and it’s harder and harder to hold it in.

“Ten more.” She’s bruising me. My eyes fill with tears, my body weakens. I count six-seven-eight….
“Oh you filthy little bitch!” She cries as my body gives in and the flow gushes out, forming a puddle between us.

“Look at that mess you made.” She has her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me round and over until my face is inches from the bathroom tiles, kneeling in my own disgrace.

“You need a time out to think about what you did. Ten minutes. And you can stay in that position.”

knelt, with my arms spread in front of me, my knees and breasts dipping into the pool of piss.

They step daintily around me and close the door behind them. They don’t want me snivelling and pushing against them. They want to laugh at me for enjoying it, shaming me, watching my cheeks get redder and redder as they dissect me. I feel charmed.

“Look at her. You wouldn’t think she was punished at all.”
She smacks me with all her might.

“Does that sting?”
“Yes, Miss.”

“Is that what you deserve for not asking permission? For making this mess?”

“Yes, Miss.”

He unzips his flies.

“And you know what else you’re going to get, don’t you?”


And grabs my hair again so I’m face to face with him, with his cock, but not the weapon he brandishes at me and teases me with whenever I visit. He’s holding it differently, he doesn’t let go.

“This is what you deserve. This is all you deserve.”

It’s in my hair, soaking into the tight braids she plaited before we left the house; cascading down over my tits, mixing with the puddle on the tiles. It goes on forever, I feel it soaking into my pores, cleansing me, debasing me, cleansing me again.

Being pissed on might not be for everyone, but for me it unlocked parts of me I didn’t recognise, yet rapidly fell in love with.

The flow stemmed and without requesting permission I took him in my mouth and began to suck him hard. He removed himself from my desperate mouth only to shake his head and tut at me in a patronising way, before letting me reward myself with his pleasure, for now.


  1. Oh what a naughty girl….. again. We have dabbled in piss play but it is not a huge thing for me and so I think he is indifferent to it as a result but he does delight on pissing on me when we shower together


  2. The build up to the end. I have so many uncomfortable feelings around piss play. The fear/arousal seem to play hand and hand the times Michael has told me I have to wait to pee. Plus the end, the taking him on her mouth. Unf. Being peed on doesn’t really elicit any feelings in me, but it’s the everything else that made me squirm a bit.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.