Inflict Pain on Me
I rushed to her office right after practice, my hair was still damp from the shower. Anxiety filled me up, knowing I was late and she hates lateness. I took a quick look at my watch, 20 minutes later than expected.
Shit. I decided to skip the elevator and used the stairs instead. I hurriedly climbed them, not wanting to waste more time. I finally reached her floor.
My heart pounded as I closed in on the door. I grabbed the handle, fingers shaking slightly. The door opened, and there she stood. Mistress May's imposing figure was silhouetted by the doorway, arms crossed and expression unreadable. Her intense gaze analyzed me completely.
I know I'm good looking, tall and muscular with dirty blond hair. Girls back at school can't help but throw themselves at me, hanging on my every word and grab my arm at parties. Under her gaze, it felt like I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Her silent stillness tore at my nerves causing a full body tremor to occur.
"Close the door behind you," She ordered with a terrifying calmness.
Choices were limited, I complied. My terror intensified, my body shaking. I closed the door with a loud click and crouched at her feet.
"I did get here as soon as I could," I offered.
"I know, but you were late. I hate when people are late. It's disrespectful," she said in a stern tone.
"I'm very sorry, Mistress --"
"Silence!" She commanded, shocking me silent.
She walked past me, her heels clacking on the floor. My eyes followed her, catching a glimpse of her black stiletto boots, a pencil skirt exposing her curves, a corset hugging her breasts. She was a gorgeous temptation. My dick began to stir uncomfortably.
"You kept me waiting," She tapped her fingers on her table. Tap. Tap. Tap. Her hand ceased.
"You've lost sixty minutes of your week," she declared with calmness. I felt irritated, looking for an argument.
"What? It wasn't that late..."
"Be quiet!" She snapped and I shut up.
"Understand me loud and clear, Mister Thompson," She said, using my family name.
Again, dread installed, thinking about my father's reaction. Her presence distracted me, her black boots, skin-tight black pencil skirt, and a corset that squeezed her breasts. She was a living fantasy. I felt my dick start to harden and a pressure built.
"I'll bear the punishment," I replied, trying to sound unfazed.
"Come here." She beckoned with her finger.
I hesitantly stepped towards her. I dreaded what was about to happen. I started to feel the pressure in my bladder.
"Stand here and face the wall," She ordered, pointing to a spot on the other wall.
"Um, Mistress, can I go to the restroom first?" I asked, shuffling on my feet.
"No." Her response was resolute.
I turned to look at her, seeing her wicked smile. I knew I was in for some pain. She definitely planned on punishing me. Defeated, I did as instructed and pressed my nose against the wall.
Mistress May stepped behind me. Her heels clicked against the floor as she moved closer. She rubbed her breath against my neck, wrapped me in her heat. Her hands rested on the wall, moments away from touching me.
"Rise higher on your toes, touch your nose to the wall."
I obeyed, turning onto my toes awkwardly. I remained in that position, tense and humiliated. The pressure in my bladder was increasing, making it difficult not to whimper.
"I really need to go to the bathroom.."
"Say that again and I'll make your punishment last twice as long." Her threat cut through me, leaving me afraid. My bladder hurt worse, desperate for release.
"Before we start..." She stepped back, a small glimmer of hope flickered in me.
"Take off your shoes and socks." I complied, kicking off my shoes and feeling my bare feet on the floor.
Now you'll need to strip off your pants and underwear. The strong command in her voice makes my chest tighten.
Unfastening my belt, zipping down my pants, and letting them drop around my ankles, I then grip my boxers and pull them down. The soft fabric of my boxers slides down my tights and catches on my bare knees. I wriggle my hips and the gray boxers fall off around my ankles. She gives a nod towards the nearby desk.
"Put your things there. You've got three seconds."
I hurriedly comply with her instructions. When I go back to the wall, I'm painfully aware of my rock-hard cock. A wave of shame washes over me because although I'm wearing just a polo shirt, I feel more exposed than if I were fully naked. I press my hands flat against the wall, take a deep breath, stand on tiptoes, and rest my nose against the bricks. She read my body movements and brought her face centimeters from mine. Her intense gaze feels like my whole universe. I want her to fuck me. I can't think straight because she's so close.
"Good," she says, tapping me on the cheek lightly.
Then she strides off towards her desk, not uttering another word. I hear her high heels clicking on the floor. Click. Click. Click.
I take a deep breath of relief as she walks away, feeling as if I've just dodged a bullet. It's bearable to maintain this position, but soon exhaustion overwhelms me. I need to pee desperately. Whenever I attempt to tighten my ass to relieve the pressure, it doesn't work.
I begin shaking slightly, and my bladder feels like it's about to burst. I can't stand on my tiptoes any longer, so I start bouncing on the balls of my heels. Up. Down. Up. Down. My bladder... Oh, fuck! I don't know how long I have left. Twenty seconds? Thirty? I'm not going to make it.
Feeling her scrutiny on every one of my movements, I can sense that she knows exactly what I need. My resolve wilts as the pressure becomes too much to bear. I know I have mere seconds before I lose all restraint.
Please… I attempt to whimper but it comes out as gibberish.
I sense that she heard my pleas, but she chooses not to act. For a moment, I consider saying "fuck you" and running to the restroom. However, before my brain sends that message to my body, I lose the battle with my bladder. I feel the dam break and a hot tide of release running through me as a tsunami. The yellow urine hits the wall with such power that droplets of yellow pee splash onto my bare feet. I'm moaning as I keep releasing. It's the most pleasurable, most humiliating sensation I've ever felt.
Complete loss of control combined with a transcendent sense of relief and blistering embarrassment. My face flushes as the shame washes over me. Every part of my body becomes rigid with paralysis. I don't dare turn around, but I can feel her eyes digging into my back. I'm not aware of her voice. I can only hear my heartbeat roaring in my ears. I'm so ashamed.
As the minute goes by, my field of vision narrows to the pool of pee on the floor and the wetness soaking my legs. The blow to my self-esteem cuts deep. Deeper than a strap or a cane or any other corporal punishment she could've imposed. She wanted me to wet myself. How cruel.
I keep my eyes closed, immersed in a puddle of humiliation. Fatigue takes its toll on my body, and my muscles seize up. My legs ache from the tension, and my palms hurt from pressing against the wall. I know it's time for my ordeal to end when I hear the chair creak as Mistress May stands up.
"You can step back," she says. I don't want to move or open my eyes. I'm standing in a puddle of urine. Slowly, I shift back and take a step away. My eyes open, staring at the wet mess on the floor. A new wave of humiliation scorches me. She picks up a mop, bucket, cleaning supplies, and paper towels from the cleaning closet and spreads them out on the floor.
My eyes focused on my damp feet as I fought back tears. I could see her boots near the edge of my blurry field of vision, their shiny black leather stopping just short of the puddle. She gently placed her hand under my chin, lifting it until our eyes met. Her thumb glided along my lower lip, her attention following the movement.
She moved closer and whispered, "Good boy," before pulling her hand away and walking towards the door.
"I'll meet you here again next week. Be punctual."
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