Denial Slut Learns to Cuck Ch. 13

It seemed like it had been the longest winter ever, but it was finally in the low 70s and the sky was the picturesque blue with billowing white clouds you could almost touch. This weather always brought out my playful side, and I woke up feeling so happy. I had completed my initial morning tasks, given Sir his wake-up blow job, and as he does every Sunday, he fell right back asleep. I also grabbed the newspaper and set it outside Blair's room. She was not a morning person like Sir and I, so she prefers quiet alone time before coming out.

I ran into the bedroom and hopped onto the bed, landing just short of ending up on top of Sir. He rolled over and his back was now to me. I bounced on my knees giggling and chanting, "wakey wakey, Sir!" He grumbled and turned towards me, a grumpy look on his face. I gave him a look that was equally as adorable as his was irritated and watched as his eyes lightened and his grimace softened into a smile. "You can't even be mad at me, Sir. I'm too cute, and it's way too nice out!"

"I might not be able to stay angry, sweetie, but I need not be upset with you to torment you." He smirked as my giggles quickly faded to a singular gasp of arousal and fear. "Am I mistaken?"

"No, Sir. You can torment me for any reason you like." I responded, knowing I was sealing my fate and ensuring my torture would take place today. I loved the way the lust and trepidation blended together to intoxicate me, to make me putty in his hands. I adored feeling pliable. It is effortless to be malleable for Sir; I am beholden to obey his every desire, compelled to please him in every way I can. To do so brings tranquility. Besides, I am a complete perv, and it makes my slit leak to imagine what he might do to me.

I was going to find out just how much fun Sir wanted to have today, and it was possibly a little more than I was prepared for.

"Go get your we-vibe and the inflatable plug." He was stern. It was no time for me to push.

"Yes Sir. Which plug Sir?" Yes, we owned more than one inflatable butt plug! "The vibrating one." "Yes, Sir." "With the remote."

"Yes Sir." I walked purposefully to the playroom across the hall and grabbed the items I was told to retrieve. I was starting to get excited. Two remote controlled items were better than one, right? I had no idea.

I arrived back to the master bedroom to find Sir standing at the foot of the bed. I placed the toys near his hand and kneeled at his feet.

Sir gestured for me to bend over the bed, ass in the air, legs spread, both holes available for intrusion. Before he even touched me, I was whining.

"Do you have a question? Anything you'd like to ask before I begin?" Sir rarely offered me to opportunity to make requests prior to scenes. Well, he rarely denied the asking of any questions in general, but to actively make a point of offering hinted that there might be something I may want to ask.

"Um, Sir, I haven't gone to the bathroom yet today. May I please go wee before I am filled?" It had been a couple months since Sir had discovered, i.e. I had exposed, my fetish for omorashi, the forced holding of urine, being denied release until almost wetting oneself, or for many enthusiasts, eventual self-wetting is unavoidable. I was not so interested in the wetting portion, but the being made to hold it, forced water intake, the panic that coincides, and knowing that whether or not I was completely humiliated and brought to the point of failing to control even the most basic of my bodily functions was in Sir's control. Since my confession of my omorashi fetish, I have been required to get permission to relieve myself. Of course, since I can not even make such a simple decision, I could not possibly be expected to use what Sir calls "big girl" words to ask either. He knows it brings me down another level to have to ask to go "wee."

"No, of course you may not go wee, sweetie, but I am so glad you asked. Go grab a depends unless you want to chance going out in big girl panties." I gasped in pure dread. I did not want in any way to wet myself. It was not a limit, but I liked to think I had all these caveats that Sir would respect about how a scene with that would happen if it ever did, but the only rule he religiously followed was: Don't break the toy. (Respect limits.) Degrading and humiliating me would be of no concern to him. Shit, he'd get off on it.

I ran to get the adult diapers he made me buy, but had never made me wear. It had to be better than having an obvious accident. Hopefully it would only be us who knew it was even on my body. I placed it next to the toys and kneeled again. He began again, "Over the bed. Any final questions?" I had none other than the one I had already requested, and his answer was quite clear. "No, thank you, Sir." I timidly replied.

Sir inserted the plug first, opting benevolently to leave it in its base deflated state. Next was the we-vibe. He made sure it was placed just right, the inside sitting right against my g-spot and the outer piece sitting firmly between my lips and centered directly on my newly captive clitoris. Testing his handiwork, Sir paired the vibrator and turned it on. I was fucked. So fucked. He put on the diaper and I was mortified just to be wearing it, and we hadn't even left the house. Finally I donned my day collar that is more subtle for use in the vanilla world. It is made of sterling silver, and like any decent collar, it requires a key to unlock. Sir has it on his keys and a spare at home. He locked my badge of submission, the token of his ownership securely around my throat.

We went on with our relatively uneventful morning until we decided to go out for a picnic in the park. It was so gorgeous and Sir knew how much both Blair and I loved this weather. But Blair is a coffee fiend, so she wanted to go to Starbucks first, and Sir was feeling giving today, so he claimed. We sat on the patio and I told Sir I wasn't thirsty when he asked what I'd like to drink. He blamed the humidity, but we both knew it was forced drinking to make my bladder fuller, but he did not let me skip a beverage. He just confirmed my response and headed to the barista inside.

When he returned, he had two regular sized cups of coffee, or whatever Blair was drinking today. A red eye or Americano. I can't keep it all straight. All I know for sure is that Sir had ordered iced coffee for me, but he had gotten a trenta size! Thirty-one ounces! On an empty bladder, that would be too much, but Sir was sending me a strong message. I received it loud and clear. I would not try to cheat my way into making my suffering less. It was for his enjoyment. Usually I get iced tea, but I am sure Sir picked coffee for its diuretic effect. Great.

Blair and Sir began sipping their drinks. Sir watched as I fidgeted, afraid to drink my coffee. He raised his eyebrows, imploring me to drink. My pulse became more rapid as I fidgeted even more. I felt pressure building inside my asshole. I immediately started drinking, understanding exactly what was happening. The plug stopped inflating, but it did not deflate, nor did I expect it to. I silently cursed myself for not having just drank when I knew I was expected to. Now there would be additional pressure too.

Blair laughed at my discomfort, and I knew immediately who had control of my ass. I looked at Sir, jaw agape, shocked that he had shared my dilemma with her. Why I was surprised I truly don't know, because she was only around to be his and to add to my suffering for him. I could feel my cheeks flush with heat as she enjoyed seeing my enlightenment.

I closed my mouth and looked at Sir, relaxing any tension from my brows and lips especially. I wanted to show reverence and not make my suffering worse in the wrong ways, only the ones he enjoyed. I could see the approval in his eyes and in the nod of his head toward the twenty-eight or so ounces still remaining to drink of the giant coffee. I drank through the familiar green straw without breaking eye contact, and it reminded me of earlier today when I took Sir in my mouth. I think all three of us must have had the same thought all at once, because as I sucked every drop of coffee through that straw, Sir turned on the inner vibe very low, just rolling like a wave, and I felt the rear vibrator awaken at the exact same time. I had to work to not let my arousal become audible or obvious to anyone around us. Keeping my hips still was damn near impossible. I drank the whole trenta, though, and upon the final sip, all vibration ceased, leaving not only the oversized Starbucks cup, but also both of my tight holes feeling so empty.

"Shall we head off then to the square?" Sir asked eagerly, as if he had something else planned. Of course he did. He always did.

Upon standing, I felt the weight of my now very full bladder, and gravity's additional pressure made no attempt to ease my burden. It seemed that would only happen in one way that I was dreading.

At the park, Sir, ever prepared, pulled out a blanket and sat down on it. He tapped the space to his right, inviting Blair to join him, and I stupidly sat down on his other side. "You sit on the grass. I don't need an extra mess to clean up because I let my bitch piss on my blanket." I felt my status shift lower than it had at any point so far in this scene upon his words. I knelt on the grass, eyes lowered in shame.

Blair came over and mock comforted me, saying, "It's okay, girl. Come here. Lay back." I laid on my back, hyper aware of my surroundings and utterly convinced everyone was watching. "Good girl." Blair accompanied her praise with a loving, heh, belly rub, but she focused all pressure directly on my lower abdomen, making my need to urinate more intense.

I had to work to not grit my teeth in disrespect for her at her cruelty, and instead I uttered a simple, "Thank you, Miss."

She must have sensed my difficulty to remain in my place, or perhaps wanted to see me struggle more to maintain focus, because the anal plug began to expand. She smiled as I jumped at the surprise, and she turned the vibrator on too. I began to melt into my happy place as their anal slut.

Next I knew, I felt a very subtle pulse, almost a ghost of a vibration, so faint in its strength that I silently questioned whether or not it was in my head or was actually happening. Until it began to build that is. It was beginning on the g-spot head of the we-vibe and increasing in speed and intensity, ultimately shifting to the clit only piece of the toy at the height of the vibrational intensity. That was where the duration of the pattern was the longest as well, but alas, it was nowhere near long enough to let me even think about approaching the edge of orgasmic bliss. It fell just short, got me up to the point of believing that I could have it before ripping that hopelessly from my consciousness. Then the pattern began again, bringing me just to the brink then nothing! I was so frustrated. It mattered not how many times I was tortured like this; the hellish possession that nugatory optimism held over me was unshakable.

As I struggled to remain unnoticeable by the public, Sir began to empty his backpack onto the blanket. I realized, when he said picnic, he was not exaggerating one bit, as he pulled out a bottle of champagne, three lemon poppy muffins from our favorite bakery in town, a package of blueberry goat cheese, and some crackers. He was so sweet sometimes. Sometimes I was confused by my feelings of adoration and absolute contempt in certain moments when I thought I had pushed as far as I could for him. But he always knew. He knows how much I can do, and he shows me I can and will be the best version of myself for him.

"Fucktoy." I snapped to attention at the sound of his sharp tone. "I asked you a question. I do not enjoy repeating myself."

"I am so sorry Sir. I was caught up thinking about you actually." I squeaked my apology, a bit embarrassed that I had been caught off in la la land daydreaming about the man right in front of me.

"You are so lucky you are cute. And that I am in a good mood. I expect your focus on me, not your thoughts of me. Is that clear, young lady?" He knows that it makes me feel extra cared for when he calls me young lady. It is a particularly intimate honorific to receive from Sir.

"Yes, Sir. Crystal." I smiled at him, knowingly. He smiled back with an equally knowing nod of the head.

"Then I will repeat my question this once. Would you like some brunch?"

"Thank you and yes please Sir."

He tapped the blanket, indicating I may come sit beside him on the blanket now. He dropped a couple crumbs as he proceeded to split a muffin in half, and after helping himself, he put a crumb into my mouth. Sure to press his first two fingers down on the back of my tongue, he clearly wanted me to read into this feeding. I sucked his fingers as he slowly removed them. I felt the vibrators turn on, but this time all three motors were active simultaneously.

It was more than I could bare, and I squirmed and audibly moaned. Neither Sir nor Blair reacted. Well, that is not entirely true. Blair gave the inflatable butt plug a couple of pumps. The exhausting torment continued for quite some time, perhaps ten minutes or so. During this time, Sir must have uncorked the bubbly, because when the ministrations inside my most sensitive parts ceased, there were three red solo cups full of champagne. I looked at Sir trying to figure out what he really expected me to do.

See, you must understand, I am not a drinker. No, I am no addict, unless being addicted to dick counts, but I digress. I have a chronic pain disorder that is worsened by alcohol. In this moment, I was a little bit concerned that Sir was not only going to require me to drink, but to drink alcohol. I am not that brand of masochist. But he pulled out the second glass bottle of the incredible Martinelli's non-alcoholic apple cider! How thoughtful he was! But now I had absolutely no way of getting out of having to hold more in my bladder.

It was starting to get incredibly difficult to not dance out of desperation. As Sir handed me the red solo cup, he told me to be still. I stopped my potty dance and began drinking, knowing that arguing or delaying the torment would only make it worse when I finally began.

So I drank and dripped and vibrated and wished with every single part of my being that Sir would not make me wet myself, that he would allow me the use of a toilet in time. My heart rate was increasing as the panic of the situation began setting in. The cider had done it, and I was now on the verge of having an accident, me, a full grown woman, in public!

"Aww, do you need something?" Blair mocked sympathy, surely an act that resulted in not only mine but also her clit to become more engorged with arousal. "I need to go wee so bad, Miss. Please please may I go use a toilet? Please, Miss?"

"You do not need a toilet, remember, mine? You are dressed for the occasion, and we will be here until you have emptied yourself twice."

I swear my heart stopped for several seconds. I had to have heard him wrong. "Yes, I am as serious as a heart attack. Now do not have one." He chuckled at his own joke. "The sooner you empty yourself, accepting that you are so pathetic to not even be able to have self control enough to hold your own piss, the sooner we may begin the process again. We can fill you up and make you squirm so adorably, and then watch your need fall to utter devastation as you recognize the failure you are."

I looked down, unable to meet his gaze. I was mortified to have to do this task, but I focused on letting my pelvic floor muscles relax and let go of both my wee and all dignity and control. The vibrators got pumped and switched all the way up. Everything was maxed out. I have never had a more blissful pee. I edged so damn hard and felt the way my muscles just clenched and twitched more than any piss I had ever taken.

All I wanted and truly needed was to cum, but all pleasurable feelings ceased to continue.