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Some of this "story" is pretty weird. If you start to get squeamish - stop reading!
Paul rang the doorbell at the Master's house exactly on time at seven on a very cold, frosty evening. This was not the first time he had been to this Master but he had been promised something "a bit special" this session. "I won't be using any C.P. but you will experience pain, nevertheless. As much as you can tolerate." Paul found himself turned on by the mere thought of this and wondered, with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, what was going to happen in the next five hours or so.
The Master's house was very warm, as it always was for sessions where his slave would spend most of the time naked or very nearly so. Paul was a little taken aback when the Master invited him to relax in the front room and watch the end of a TV programme with him. "Make yourself comfortable, put your jacket and jumper on the back of that chair over there." Already the pattern of previous sessions was broken. In the usual course of events Paul was required to strip off and change into a leather body harness, or tight-fitting leather shorts, as soon as he was inside the Master's home. "You'll have a drink." Paul was told, rather than asked or invited. "Please sir, a beer or a lager would be great, thanks." "No, no. You'll drink precisely what I want you to drink tonight." A very large glass of clear, still, liquid was placed on the table beside Paul's chair. As Paul reached for the glass he though what a very odd turn of phrase the Master had used. "... precisely what I want you to drink..."
The aroma rising from the glass as Paul put it to his lips told him that this was a good old gin & tonic. Quite a weak one, no ice or lemon and the tonic was pretty flat but the glass was huge, the biggest tumbler Paul had seen. Must be well over half a pint in here. In a previous session it had been established that weak G & Ts tended to make Paul piss a lot. He now therefore anticipated some kind of water sports or piss fun to be part of the session. "Finish that up before the programme ends and then we'll get you started."
When the programme finished (Paul had to rather rapidly drain the glass just as the closing credits were rolling) the Master turned the set off, threw another log on the fire, took Paul's glass and wandered over to the sideboard and re-filled it. Handing it back to Paul he sort of stood over Paul. This didn't feel right to Paul, usually he would be the one standing. He was not usually allowed to sit (except on the floor) during evenings with the Master. "I hope we have established over the past few session that you can entirely trust me, Yes?" "Yes Sir." somewhat hesitantly. "I hope you know, and I mean know and not just think, that I would not intentionally do anything that would cause you harm, however much pain it might cause you at the time. You should have learned that much about me by now." "Yes, I have." Paul responded with less hesitation as he quickly recalled some of the incredible sessions he'd had at the hands of this Master. He felt his cock stiffen a little in his tight black jeans. The Master sat down on the sofa, as nearly face to face with Paul as was possible. "I have to tell you that you are one of the bravest Slaves I know and I want to test that tonight. But for tonight to work, for tonight to be safe, you must trust me and follow every instruction I give you. Any time you want out, all you have to do is to say `Stop please sir' and we'll stop and I will never think any less of you for having done so. Is that clear?" Paul agreed that it was clear and reminded the Master that he didn't like to use code words to stop sessions. "Then let's hope you won't need to use them! Finish your drink and then take your shoes & socks off and stand there, in the middle of the room, hands behind your head."
Paul obeyed, making sure his white socks were neatly rolled and placed inside his trainers, which he put under the chair where his jacket and jumper were dumped. He took the last swig from the glass and went and stood in the centre of the room in the familiar posture. The Master came over to him and gently stroked his arse for a while, then firmly running his hands up Paul's sides to his armpits where he dug his thumbs in, quite hard. Even through his tee-shirt Paul could feel the thumbnails digging in, just where it hurt most. He caught his breath but resolved not to do anything, even though he wanted to put his arms down to alleviate the pain. This was not the sort of pain that turned him on but he felt that this was some form of test. The hands dropped to his waist and, from behind, went straight to his belt buckle. As the Master undid Paul's belt Paul's cock became hard, something which did not go unnoticed as the Master grabbed it and squeezed it through the jeans. "Take your shirt and jeans off." Paul stripped of his tight black tee shirt, folded it as quickly as he could and threw it across to the chair where his other clothes were. He then took off his tight black jeans, tottering a little when his right ankle got caught in the leg. He folded them and took them over to the chair, taking the opportunity to tidy up the tee-shirt. He walked back to the centre of the room and, without needing to be told, stood there with his feet slightly apart and his hands behind his head, wearing by now only his pale blue briefs. His cock was rock hard - he enjoyed putting on this bit of a show for his Master - and he was very surprised and a bit annoyed when he glanced down to see a darker blue stain on the fabric where some pre-cum had oozed from his cock head. Surprised because Paul didn't usually produce pre-cum and annoyed that his briefs were no longer pristine. The Master approached him from behind and Paul felt the Master's hands feeling inside the waistband of the briefs. "I don't like coloured underwear you know." Paul did know, but then he'd expected to be changing in the bedroom on arrival as usual so he hadn't bothered to follow the Master's dress code to the letter. He was almost pulled off balance by the force of the Master literally ripping the briefs off him. "Well, you won't be wearing those again, will you?" as the Master tossed the shreds of Paul's briefs onto the log fire. "No Sir" replied Paul as he watched the briefs catch light and burn away rapidly.
"OK. Go and take a shower and, if you've not already done so, make sure your balls and arse are nicely shaved smooth for me. Have a pee but this will be the last time you use the loo tonight, understand?" Paul understood and this confirmed his earlier inkling of what tonight was about. Water sports! This would explain why he'd been expected to drink the two rather weak but very large gin & tonics. "In the bathroom you'll find a pair of Y-fronts which you will put on when you have showered. I want to be able to see your cock at all times tonight so make sure you get it out through the Y-fronts."
Paul showered and dried himself carefully. He didn't use the toilet even though the two drinks were beginning to make their presence felt. He reckoned things could start sooner if he held on for a while. He'd shaved his arse & balls earlier, before he left home, but he gently ran his fingers over his balls and his arse crack just to make sure he'd left no stray hairs. Everything felt nice and smooth. He put on the grey Y-fronts as he'd been told and he fished his cock out through the front before returning to the Master in the front room. The Master was sitting on the sofa, channel-hopping the TV with the remote and leaving it set to the blank blue screen of the video as Paul walked over to him. Paul stood in front of the Master in his usual posture, feet slightly apart and hands behind his head. He could feel the air on his flaccid cock and he felt somehow very foolish standing there with his cock hanging out of his Y-fronts. He guessed, correctly, that this was just how the Master wanted him to feel. The Master just let Paul stand there, not touching him, almost ignoring him. Paul began to feel even more foolish, even humiliated. He could feel his cock shrinking and hoped it wouldn't vanish back inside the Y-fronts. That would be tantamount to disobeying the instruction. The instant he had that thought, he felt it begin to grow again, not all the way hard but certainly no longer disinterested. At the same time he became aware that he needed to have a piss quite soon.
Almost as if mind-reading, the Master suddenly leaned forward and placed the palm of his right hand flat against the front of Paul's Y-fronts. The left hand went around Paul's back to stop him falling backwards as the Master's right hand pressed hard against Paul's bladder. "I told you to have a piss and you didn't, did you?" "No Sir." "Alright, then we'll make it interesting - for me at least." Paul was told to take off the Y-fronts and was handed a pair of very thin white cotton shorts, which he put on. He was told to put on his socks and trainers and go and wait in the kitchen, by the back door. After a couple of minutes he was joined by the Master, dressed up in a thick jacket, scarf and ski hat. "You will go outside and stand in the middle of the patio with your legs wide apart and your hands on your head until you have pissed yourself. The colder you get the harder you'll find it is to piss. Now go!" Paul opened the back door and walked briskly to where he'd been told to stand. The Master followed, his breath cloudy in the sharp frosty air. Paul spread his legs and put his hands on his head. He didn't feel the cold at first but after about a minute he began to feel the chill, especially around his waist and under his arms. As he got colder, he really needed to piss to relieve the pressure in his bladder. As he got colder, he found it harder and harder to relax the muscles that would let him piss. After about five minutes, which felt like at least twice as long to Paul in those icy temperatures, he started to shiver and at the same time he felt something hot and wet in his shorts. He was pissing at last, but only very slowly indeed and, because he was so cold, entirely outside of his will or control. He could feel the hot fluid trickling down his legs and soaking into his socks but he was so frozen he didn't feel as if he was actually pissing at all. Then, quite suddenly, he felt the sphincters relax and his whole torso go into some kind of spasm and there was a flood of piss, filling his shorts and soaking them, running down his legs and into his trainers. And it hurt! It really hurt. Not only did the hot piss coursing though his frozen cock feel like molten metal but his stomach muscles were, at the same time, in painful spasm, whether due to the cold or the pissing or some combination of both Paul did not know - he just wanted these sensations to stop. Or did he want them to go on forever? At last the flow of hot piss slowed down and stopped and the spasms subsided and now Paul really did feel very cold indeed as the last trickles of piss ran down his legs, giving up their warmth to the bitter evening frost. Paul didn't move but composed himself, determined not to move until told to. As he felt the chill return to his recently piss-warmed shorts he began to get hard and, as was usual for him, once his cock started to get hard, it didn't quit until it was rock hard and straining against the now chilled wet fabric of the shorts. "OK. Well done. Go inside, take another quick shower and get back into the Y-fronts. I'll see you in the front room." Paul almost sprinted inside and through to the bathroom and under a warm shower.
As Paul re-entered the front room, naked, he glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was only just on eight o'clock. It felt like a lot more time has passed. He put on the grey Y-fronts and made sure his cock was out through the front. It was not quite soft, and would not now be again until several hours later. He stood in front of the Master as before but was told to sit down in the chair and drink up. By now the chair had been covered with a plastic sheet on top of which had been draped a large towel. On the table was a glass, a whole pint tankard this time, containing another weak G & T. Laying on its side next to the drink was a sort of large flexible plastic bottle with a wide screw top at one end and a plastic hoop or hook at the other. There were also three pills which Paul eyed with suspicion. The Master explained. "Much of the next segment is a waiting game. I want you to drink as much as you can and I'll keep the glass topped up. If you need to piss, you will piss into that bottle and re-seal it. When the bottle is full we'll proceed. The pills serve two purposes; two will ensure you don't catch any bugs and the other is to make sure you produce plenty of piss. Don't worry, they are all quite safe. Meantime, we may as well just watch some video." Paul took the pills and downed about a third of the drink while the Master selected a video and put it into the machine. Paul was not surprised that it was a film showing guys pissing over each other and having sex. He guessed that this was what would happen to him later. He guessed wrong!
It was just before nine that Paul needed to piss. He'd emptied the glass twice by then and was already half way down a third. He was feeling distinctly, and pleasantly, fuzzy but nowhere near being drunk. The Master was making sure he kept his wits. Paul guesstimated that, not accounting for the current pint he was half way down, he'd probably had the equivalent of four pub gins. Another quick calculation told him that, so far this evening, he had downed at least three, maybe four, pints of liquid. "I need to have a pee Sir." Without waiting for a response, for he knew what he should do already, Paul stood up, unscrewed the plastic bottle and let his piss flow into it. This wasn't easy since the bottle was very flexible and floppy. Only the fluid in it gave it any shape. He'd almost half filled it and was about to put his cock away when he remembered that he was supposed to leave it hanging out of the Y-fronts for the Master to see at all times. He suddenly felt very foolish, humiliated, again. Especially as the Master had just watched him pissing into the bottle. He screwed the top on the bottle and put the bottle down on the table. "I suggest you put the bottle where it will keep warm." said the Master so Paul placed it near the fire. Half an hour later Paul needed to piss again so he picked up the bottle and unscrewed the top and pissed into it, nearly filling it. Just a few minutes later he had to go again and this time filled the bottle and still had some piss left in his bladder but this was not uncomfortable. Now that the bottle was full of his warm piss, Paul noticed that it was graduated and that the `full' graduation was marked at 1.4 litres. Paul also wondered why the `full' mark was at the wrong end of the bottle, furthest from the screw top. Then it dawned on Paul that the bottle was designed to be hung by the plastic hoop, with the screw `top' at the bottom. He wondered why.
At about ten the Master left the room for a couple of minutes, returning with a large tray. Paul could not see what was on the tray as it was covered with a white cloth. He sat on the sofa, placing the tray next to him. "OK let's make a start. Come over here." the Master beckoned and Paul went over and stood before him, adopting the usual position. The Master gently fondled Paul's cock and it didn't take long before it was rock hard and jutting out of the Y-fronts quite rigidly. Removing the cloth from the tray the Master picked up a tube of lubricant and squeezed some of the lube up Paul's cock. He then removed a catheter from its sterile wrapping and coated it carefully with the lube. Paul knew what this would feel like as it was not an entirely new experience. Nevertheless he felt more than a moment's trepidation as he knew the process could sometimes be intensely painful. In a way, he somehow wanted it to be! Very slowly and carefully, the Master pressed the tip of the catheter against the piss-hole in Paul's cock. It slipped in and Paul caught his breath and jumped a bit as the slippery tube, about a quarter of an inch thick and a little over a foot long, began to invade his cock. The Master continued to feed the long tube into Paul's cock, all the while stimulating Paul gently to keep his cock hard. Paul could feel the catheter penetrating deeper and deeper into his cock. It was painful but the sort of pain that was turning Paul on. His cock stayed rigid now without any help from the Master. The only moment when it, momentarily, lost some of its hardness was the moment when Paul felt the tip of the tube push through and into his bladder. And then the thought of that made him incredibly hard again! The Master continued to push the catheter up into Paul until the whole length of it has been inserted. He then inflated the little balloon on the tip of the catheter, inside Paul's bladder, with water so that it could not slip out again.
Once the catheter was fixed in place in Paul's bladder, the Master removed the stopper from the end and held the open tube over Paul's glass. About a third of a pint of clear piss flowed out before becoming a trickle and then stopping. The Master put the stopper back on the catheter and told Paul to sit down. Paul felt very empty! The Master brought over the gin bottle and a huge bottle of rather flat tonic. He measured out a single measure of gin and threw it into Paul's glass of piss and then topped the glass up with tonic. He indicated to Paul that he was to drink the mixture. Hesitantly at first, Paul did so. He was surprised that, even though it was about one third piss, it didn't taste too bad at all. "You finish that off while I get things ready."
While Paul slowly emptied the glass of mixed piss and drink, the Master set about his preparations. To Start with he placed a plastic sheet on the floor in front of Paul's chair. He got Paul to stand while he placed a similar sheet on Paul's chair and a towel over that, on which Paul sat down again. He picked up the bottle full of Paul's piss and unscrewed the cap, replacing it with a different cap to which was attached a very long, very thin plastic tube. At the far end of the tube was sort of nozzle which was clearly designed to fit into the catheter. About a foot from this nozzle was a small white t-piece shaped tap. The Master attached the bottle to a hook in the low ceiling. He opened the tap and allowed the piss to flow from the bottle, down the tube, though the tap and out through the nozzle into Paul's almost finished drink. Just a brief squirt and then he turned the tap off to stop the flow. Paul picked up the glass without being told and emptied it. This time the taste of piss was quite strong but he was determined to do what the Master wanted and his cock was still rock hard and jutting out from the fly of the Y-fronts.
The Master told Paul to remove the briefs and when he was naked, took the stopper out of the catheter and connected the nozzle to the catheter. He left the tap closed but it was obvious to Paul that, when the tap was open the piss in the bottle would flow down into his bladder. Was now a good time to use the code words? No, not yet.
"A little lesson in Human biology Paul. Your bladder will comfortably hold about a pint. Right now it probably contains about a quarter of a pint, and it's filling all the time thanks to the drinks and the pills. The piss bottle holds just about two and a half pints. If the contents of the piss bottle are transferred to your bladder you will, of course, become very uncomfortable. (I am, of course, understating!) Now then, the maximum normal pressure head in your bladder is about three foot. As you sit in that chair the piss bottle is about five feet above your bladder. If you kneel on the floor then the bottle is about six feet above your bladder. However, if you stand up then the bottle will only be about three foot above your bladder - about normal max pressure. So, you are in control of how comfortable you are. If you get too full you may stand up and the pressure will be relieved for a while. Now I want you to empty the piss-bottle if you can." And so saying, he opened the tap.
At first Paul felt nothing but soon he began to feel as if he urgently wanted to have a piss. He looked up at the bottle and was horrified to see that it was half empty - a whole pint of his piss had been forced back into his bladder. He put his hand down to feel his bladder and was surprised that not only did he feel very full, he even looked very full. He looked down at his tummy in fascination - it looked like he was growing a football in there. He looked at his still rigid cock and at the rubber tube that the Master had shoved right up it. Very suddenly he just had to stand up to relieve the pain he was feeling in his bladder. As he stood he found that he couldn't quite straighten up at once, it took a few seconds for the sudden crippling pain in his distended bladder to subside enough to allow him to stand erect. He looked again at the bottle and saw that it was very slowly filling up as he pissed out through the tube into it, painfully.
Paul felt as if he had somehow failed in having to stand up, especially as the pain had not entirely subsided. It had just stopped getting relentlessly worse. "You are doing very well indeed Paul. Just stay on your feet for a while to let things calm down. In your own time, I want you to kneel down on the floor and see how far you get a second time."
Paul realised that the flow of piss into him would be faster kneeling than when he was sitting. He assumed that it would hurt a lot more. But he really did want to please the Master. And anyway, the pain was turning him on! He was also quite sure that, as the Master had said earlier, however much pain he would go through, he would not come to harm. He sank to his knees and sat on his heels, focusing his eyes on the emptying piss bottle and his mind on his filling bladder.
Paul watched the bottle slowly emptying. He reckoned he would be OK until if was about half empty again. He gently placed his right hand over his bladder to see if he could feel himself filling up; he could. He felt the gripping pain developing again in his bladder and the burning in his cock that was screaming for a pee. He grasped both ankles with his hands, almost as if to stop himself standing up. The bottle was over half empty now and still going down. Down and into his helpless bladder. As he watched the bottle emptying into him, as he felt the pains grow and grow and grow inside him, so his cock got harder and harder and harder and he almost felt close to orgasm, releasing a quantity of pre-cum in spite of the tube in his cock. He was staring intently at the bottle, willing it to empty before the pain inside him became utterly unbearable. But suddenly, thinking of the pain broke the spell; Paul let out a loud cry of pain and anguish and got to his feet as fast as he could, doubled over with pain. As he slowly managed to straighten up he felt totally humiliated and degraded. He looked over at the clock and was amazed so see that he'd now been connected up to the bottle for over an hour. Where had that time gone!? He looked again at the bottle - it was only about a third full. He looked down again at his tummy and the sight of his distended bladder both fascinated and aroused him. Slowly, he kneeled down on the floor again, sitting on his heels and grasping his ankles firmly with his hands.
Almost at once the gripping pain in his bladder and the burning sensations in his stiff cock came flooding back. Paul concentrated on the piss bottle and tried hard to become fascinated by the gradually diminishing level of piss within it. The pains became worse and worse and he wanted, desperately, to stand up again. But he also wanted desperately to know the sensations of having the entire bottle of piss inside his bladder, as well as the piss he'd been producing over the last hour. Paul began to groan and pant as the searing pains grew and grew. He felt as if he was going to explode and took his eyes off the bottle to look down at his poor cock and bladder. Both were hurting now more than any part of him had ever hurt and even that pain continued, slowly but relentlessly, to grow. He thought he was going to scream and even cleared his throat as if getting ready to do so. His finger nails dug into his ankles and he leaned forward, bending almost double with the pain. That made it much worse so he fought the instinct to bend over and struggled with himself to kneel up as erect as he could. As he finally straightened up he looked up at bottle. It was empty! Paul could see the level of piss falling rapidly in the thin tube until it stopped about a foot or so above his head. Just as he'd been told it would.
Paul was so pleased with himself that he forgot, momentarily, that he was in so much pain but then he cried out suddenly and struggled to his feet as the pain overwhelmed him. "You really are a bolshy bugger aren't you" said the Master. "I knew you'd do it but I didn't expect it tonight." As he said this he quickly unhooked the bottle from the ceiling and let it fall to the floor, where it rapidly filled completely with Paul's piss, allowing his distended and painful bladder to return to something approaching normality. Except that, even when the bottle lay full, Paul still had plenty of piss inside him. "By the way Paul, however much you are tempted, don't ever try anything like that without the proper equipment. Both the tap and the piss bottle have special safety valves. And before you ask; No, you can't borrow them. I want to be there when you go through that again! Anyway, I think you need a drink." "Please sir!"
Paul expected the Master to fix him a drink but he made no moves to do so. Instead he indicated to Paul to sit down. When Paul was sitting the Master produced from the tray a short length of tube. One end of the tube was attached to an item familiar to Paul, a piss-gag! This consisted of a leather gag with a hole through which a tube was attached to a mouthpiece. This mouthpiece was so designed that the 'wearer' could not block the tube with his tongue. Paul understood what sort of drink he was about to get! The master rapidly fitted the piss-gag on Paul, not meeting any resistance. When it was on, the Master placed a small clamp over the tube a few inches from the gag. With this he squashed the tube closed. The far end of the tube he neatly attached somehow to the little tap on the tube running from the bottle to Paul's catheter. Finally, he lifted the bottle and put it back on it's hook. Paul tensed - waiting for the pains to return or for piss to flow into his mouth. Neither happened.
"I think you'll like this one Paul. The way you're set up now, the little tap cannot be closed off. It can only be set one of three ways. Either the catheter is connected to the gag, the bottle is connected to the gag, or the bottle is connected to the catheter. There are no other options. There is no 'off'. Right now it is set so the bottle is connected to the gag but then I've clamped the gag off so nothing should be happening. Yes?" Paul nodded. "Good. When I remove the clamp, you may play with the little tap as much as you like to avoid whatever it is you most want to avoid. You'll get the hang of it very quickly, I'm sure. I shall expect you to stay like this for fifteen minutes." he then took the clamp off the piss-gag tube and a flood of cold, stale tasting piss rushed into Paul's mouth.
Paul had no option but to swallow the disgusting tasting fluid and he's taken about three gulps before he'd scrabbled with the tap and turned the flow off. Or rather diverted it. Nothing was coming into the gag now so he worked out that he must have connected the bottle to the catheter. Sure enough, after a very short while he began to feel really full again, but he could cope for a while. Paul took stock. This was a very awkward situation. The tap gave him three options, none of them very nice. He could let his bladder fill up painfully, he could drink his piss from the bottle or he could drink straight from his own bladder via the catheter and gag. He needed to make up his mind fast as the piss in the bottle was slowly pouring into him.
Paul rapidly decided that having to drink the cold stale, disgusting tasting, piss in the bottle was the worst option. From that it was a short step to realise that his best option was to try and keep his bladder as empty as possible and to stop the flow of stale piss from the bottle into him as soon as possible. He juggled the little tap and felt a gush of warm piss flood into his mouth through the gag. he hoped he could drink enough of this to stop his bladder getting painfully over-full again. Even though some of this piss from his bladder had come from the bottle, at least it was now warm and most of it fairly fresh. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the saltiness in the taste. He wondered how much he would have to drink to relieve the terrible pressure inside him, and was greatly relieved when the pains subsided after only about five or six large gulps of his warm piss.
OK, he'd managed to relieve the pressure but now he would quite like to stop drinking his piss. Except, of course, he couldn't stop! He looked at the clock, only three of the fifteen minutes gone so far - could he cope with another twelve minutes of this? At least the flow of piss into his mouth had slowed down and the feeling of nausea caused by his first few huge gulps was subsiding. He could let his mouth full up slowly and, with any luck, would only need to swallow occasionally. The trouble with this strategy was that, holding the warm piss in his mouth before swallowing meant that he became very aware indeed of the taste! Suddenly he appreciated for the first time what a truly 'no-win' situation he was in. The more hot piss that entered his mouth, the more he was forced to swallow it, the sicker he felt (although he didn't feel like he would actually be sick). And all the time the Master was watching him, grinning slightly, making him feel very small, very foolish, totally humiliated. And horny!
Paul decided to go for broke. If he drank as much of the piss in his bladder as he could then maybe he would not have any problems when he found it necessary to switch the flow so that his bladder filled up again from the piss-bottle. He took a few rapid gulps of his hot piss as it flowed into his mouth through the piss-gag. He kept on swallowing until he felt that he really could take no more and he scrabbled to find the little tap and turn it. He was so relieved when he realised that the flow of piss into his mouth had stopped. He knew, of course, that he was now filling up with cold, stale piss from the bottle. He could even feel a slight chill in his tummy as the cool fluid flowed inexorably into his bladder. Paul was confident that he would be OK. There were now only four minutes to go.
Paul's confident calculation was so nearly right! With just a couple of minutes to go he felt the gripping sensation in his bladder and the burning sensation in his cock that told him "full up". Would he be able to cope with the next 120 seconds? He fixed his gaze on the clock and watched the sweeping second hand creep round as the pain in his cock and bladder relentlessly grew and grew.
By the time the two minutes had elapsed Paul was in considerable pain due to his distended bladder full of stale piss. As soon as the second hand reached vertical he looked across at the Master who immediate stood up and moved towards Paul. "OK, you've done very well indeed. You can be very proud of yourself. I'll just take this thing away.." So saying, he deflated the balloon holding the catheter inside Paul's bladder and, very slowly, withdrew the long tube through Paul's still stiff cock. The pain of the process made Paul's prick even stiffer, especially the final inch or so. Then the feeling of relief when the catheter was completely removed was incredible!
The Master threw a towel down on the plastic sheet on the floor. "Lie down on that, face up." Paul complied and the Master, gently at first, began to stroke Paul's stiff cock. As the Master continued to wank on Paul's prick Paul felt the beginnings of the process that he knew would end in him shooting his spunk all over his tummy and chest. But he was still very full indeed of piss. "I really need to have a piss, Sir."
"Alright. I don't mind. Have a piss; don't let me stop you." The master said, without even slowing down the way he was stroking and wanking Paul's cock. "Maybe this will help." he said as he stopped wanking Paul and just gripped the head of his cock firmly for a few seconds. Then he let go and immediately gripped Paul's cock head again. He repeated the process a few times and Paul felt that it was impossible to hold his piss any longer and he felt himself pissing over his chest. At first Paul's piss came in short gushes, in time with the moments when the Master relaxed his grip on Paul's cock. However, once the flow had got going Paul found it impossible to stop, even although the Master had again started to wank Paul's cock in earnest.
Suddenly, Paul knew he was about to shot his load of cum. He was still pissing but he didn't pause to consider that all the medical texts were quite clear that it was impossible to have an orgasm while pissing (and vice versa). Suddenly, Paul proved them all wrong! He was still pissing over himself while his Master was wanking him off when he suddenly arched his back, spread his legs and arms out wide, let out a huge groan of ecstasy and shot his load of cum all over his stomach and up onto his chest. He felt a couple of drops land on his face and was not sure if this was piss or cum. He didn't care. At that moment he didn't care about anything!
Paul had stopped pissing although he still felt very full. The Master handed him a towel and told him to get dressed. Paul wondered why the Master didn't want to shoot his load too but it was not his place to question the Master's actions. Although he was absolutely exhausted Paul dressed quite quickly, pausing to look for his briefs before he recalled that they were now mere ashes. After he'd pulled on his jeans he put his socks and trainers on and then his favourite tight black tee-shirt. He would put his jumper and jacket on only the instant he was leaving.
"How long will it take you to walk home?" asked the Master. "Only about twenty minutes, Sir." "Then you may well have 'an accident' and arrive home with piss-soaked jeans. I'm sure you're not empty yet by any means."
The Master was not wrong!
Fantasy or fact? What do you think? E-mail and let me know!