Reluctant Prisoner

Then I allowed him a twenty second pee. Two women took turns holding his penis to guide the stream. He did put on quite a show, and he was able to stop when we told him.

I had the guard untie Paul's arms from the tree limbs, and instead tie them behind his back. He tied Paul's legs with a long rope, so that he was able to walk, in short steps. I led him away from the tree. Again I felt his still swollen bladder, and invited other women to press on it, too. It was not as hard as it had been, as a result of his partial relief. He did wince as each hand was applied.

I noted his erection had softened. A young woman came forward and teased his penis lightly with her fingers.

More time passed. I did not order more water for Paul, but continued to check the hardness of his bladder. He complained that it hurt terribly. I told him it is going to get much worse. We walked him around a bit. We took him where he could lean back against a tree. He complained that the pain was intense and he could not hold himself. I appointed two women to hold his penis in a tight grip, their hands not moving. He was in pain, tears in his eyes, biting his lip, moaning softly, pleading for relief from his torment. The women did not loosen their grip. The guard stood by, insuring he did not move away. I felt his bladder, now rock-hard and more swollen than it had ever been. We changed the women holding his penis, and two fresh ones with strong grips took over. A drop appeared at the end of his penis, and I told the women to hold tighter. He was squirming, begging for relief.

I decided to allow every woman an opportunity to push on his bladder and feel its hardness. Paul screamed when he heard this, and winced visibly as each female hand pushed on his belly. Some were gentle, some were not. The process took twenty minutes or so.

Finally I asked Paul if he was ready for his final relief. He could hardly talk, but nodded his head.

The hands were removed. For this I held his penis in a gentle grip. His stream starts to flow. I directed it high, and moved it in several directions as the women watched. The stream was clear, as his urine is very diluted. We walked him around a bit while he was urinating, spraying his stream in all directions. It went on for a long time. Finally he was through; his bladder empty. I released my grip.

"Good," I told him. "You have taken your punishment well. We will not make you pee in front of these women again; in fact we will not let you."

Paul seemed relieved and delighted. He was still naked among twenty six women, but he felt the ordeal was over, but I knew otherwise. It was late afternoon and shortly we would be boarding the bus for the return to the hotel.

We loaded up on the bus. I sat next to Paul, still naked. The bus drove toward the hotel.

It had been an hour since Paul had emptied his bladder, and we were riding on the return trip. He was fidgeting nervously. I knew why. There was a lot of water in his stomach and elsewhere that hadn't made its way to his bladder when he last emptied it; but now it had. I reached over and felt his bladder. It was hard again; not as hard as it had been, but enough to be causing him considerable discomfort.

"Not yet," I told him. " You must wait perhaps another hour."

Another hour is torture to Paul. His bladder has been badly stretched and it was sore. I occasionally pressed on it, so I knew he was getting worse.

We arrived at the hotel. I gave Paul his towel so he could cover himself as he said his farewell to the group as we left the bus. When all have left, I went with Paul to his room. When we entered, I closed the door behind us. Then I held out my hand for the towel. "I must return it," I said.

I added, "You were a good sport about everything. I hope it didn't hurt you too much. And I know you need to pee right now, but would you allow a lady to use your toilet first?"

Paul looked at me, puzzled. I went into the bathroom, with him following. pulled down my underpants and hiked up my skirt, seated myself on the toilet, and with Paul standing in front of me, reached out with my hand and seize his penis, now erect. He waited to hear my urination, but there was no sound. "How much longer could you hold it? This may take me a while!" I teased him.

Paul's bladder distress has the better of him. "Please, go ahead! I really can't wait!" I had had my fun. Holding Paul's penis, I released my stream. He could hear its noisy splashing. It did go on for a while - I was quite full, too. Then I got up, still holding his penis, and announced "Your turn!" Paul was surprised that I kept my grip, but allowed me to direct his stream downward. Eventually he finished. I released my grip, moved away, and departed, closing the door behind.

Quite an experience for me. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it might have been for Paul.