Wet, Wet, Wet

This story was written as a gift to my sweet sub, Richard, as part of a consensual, caring relationship. It is a bit of fun fiction which turned us both on and we are sharing it in the hope that you enjoy it as much as we did. If Femdom is not for you, then please do not continue reading. However, if you like the idea of a powerful woman controlling every aspect of a helpless sub's pleasure, then please read on.

Other stories in order in this series include Mistress' Pleasure Slave, Sold for her Pleasure, Serving as her Shower Slut, Subslut's Dilemma, Deepening his Control Training and The Art of Seduction.

Part ONE:

'Richard, I need you. Come now!'

Richard had just woken to the sound of his Mistress' text alert -- her breathy moan accompanied by a strong vibration. It wasn't the early hour that most disturbed Richard, nor even the use of an exclamation mark, which was almost unheard of from his tightly controlled Mistress. It was the use of his Christian name. Richard could barely remember the last time he had heard her use his given name. Possibly it was in the coffee shop where they had both first met? Since coming to her home and taking on the role of her adoring sub, Richard had been called a variety of names; boy, pet, slut -- sometimes purred affectionately, at others, barked out in disappointment -- but never referred to by name. Even if he weren't conditioned to respond to her every call, Richard would still have leapt out of bed, dragged on the first thing that came to hand, and jumped in his car to rush to her house.

Upon arriving, Richard let himself in using the key she left out for him in her pretty metal post-box and stood for a moment in the hallway. Should he quietly disrobe, and take his position kneeling and blindfolded, as she had trained him? Or was this a different situation? Was his Mistress in trouble? Maybe she was being held at knifepoint by a burglar? Maybe she had managed to snare herself in her own restraints and was, right now, cuffed, and helpless in her playroom... Richard's cock pulsed with interest. Of course, he loved to be under her firm control. Being a submissive was a freedom he'd never experienced before he'd met her. Under her rules and demands, he was released of the burden of having to make the decisions. All he needed to do was to follow her obediently, love her unconditionally, and she would lavish him with her attentions. Not all of these were comfortable, indeed, many were challenges that put him way outside his comfort zone, but he would endure them for her. Richard knew that Kate, his Mistress K, cared as deeply for him and his happiness as he did for her and he really wouldn't want it any other way. However, thinking that she may today be under his control even for a moment, gave him a deliciously subversive thrill.

Richard's musing was brought to a halt as the Lady in question rounded the corner, rather more quickly than she normally did. In place of her sensuous stalk towards him, clicking her towering heels along the highly polished floorboards, Richard was greeted by the sight of his Mistress padding towards him on bare feet wearing an unbound silk kimono, giving just a hint of the enticing confectionary she wore beneath. Oh, he remembered this look; the day he became her showerslut. What a wonderful memory that was, and it was a role he would willingly undertake again, especially as today he was not under threat of chastity. Not at the moment, anyway, although nothing could be taken for granted with his capricious Mistress.

The look on his Domina's face was not a seductive smile, or even the devious smirk she sometimes sported; today it was a mask of anxiety and he could see that she was not quite as put together and polished as usual. Instead of a well-tailored dress or unbearably exciting leather corset, he'd discovered his Mistress caught partway through her morning routine. She wore an expensive-looking bra and panty set that was emerald-green silk, but today she wore no make-up. Her flawless, slightly flushed skin, soft pink lips and wide eyes with their dark lashes were completely unadorned and, he felt, she looked all the more beautiful for it.

'Dearest Mistress. How may this one be of service to you?' he asked solicitously. Something was clearly wrong and, despite this being a cause for concern, Richard couldn't help but feel a glow of pride and happiness that she had turned to him in her hour of need.

'Come, boy, let me show you.' So close, and yet so far, thought Richard wryly, from the words she had imprinted on his malleable mind which would lead to his spontaneous orgasm. Mistress K took him by the hand and led him through the house to a set of stairs that led down to what could only be a basement of some description. Richard's heart started beating faster. Oh, fuck! She had a sex dungeon and today she was going to take him down there and try out all her most terrifying torture implements on him! He'd thought her playroom had been scary enough and he'd barely experienced any of the implements or pieces of equipment she had installed there. What could she possibly have hidden away in this new, dark torture chamber?

Each step down brought Richard's pulse and his cock up another notch and he was almost battering the door down with his erection by the time they had reached the threshold. Without any ceremony, his Mistress, threw open the door and revealed... a well-lit utility room. The bright lights were reflecting off the surface of over three inches of water that was still churning out of an expensive looking washing machine, rising to lap against the doorstep. Richard chuckled at the path down which his mind had taken him. Of course, it was her laundry room. She was no fictional wicked witch luring young innocents down into her lair; she was a strong, powerful, beautiful Lady, who of course had to do her own washing, just like anyone. Although, of course, he reflected, if she had someone here in her home at all times, never again would she need to trouble herself with such mundane tasks. He would more than willingly tend and wash her clothing, taking time to sort and hand-treat her most delicate items.

Without a word, his Queen swept out a manicured hand, displaying her ruined kingdom. Richard was no trained plumber, but he was good with his hands and had learned over the course of his life how to be pretty self-sufficient with most basic jobs. He was trained in technology though, so once he had sorted out the leak, he would be able to take a look at the offending appliance and, hopefully put everything back to rights.

Richard was about to wade in but was stopped by her soft hand on his arm.

'Aren't you forgetting something, pet?' Already, his Mistress seemed to have recovered her composure and her face was once again serene and full of playful wickedness. She raised an eyebrow and gestured to his clothing. In the rush of speculation about the emergency missive, Richard had forgotten that he was fully dressed. He'd never stepped further than her hallway wearing a stitch of clothing and, now he came to think of it, it did feel different. For a moment he'd just been a man coming to the aid of a damsel in distress. And, of course, in some ways that was still true, but his relationship with his Mistress was so much more and he needed the subtle shift in power that being naked in her presence bestowed on his psyche. Quickly, respectfully, Richard removed his clothing and folded it on one of the upper steps, before striding into the icy cold, soapy water that now reached above his ankles.

Reaching the appliance, Richard first turned it off at wall, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't been electrocuted in the process. Yep, really should have turned it off at the fuse box first, but no harm done. At least his Goddess hadn't put herself at risk and had called him in immediately.

The resulting clean-up took a couple of hours and left Richard chilled and dishevelled but with a sense of accomplishment that more than outweighed his discomfort. However, while he had been labouring under her watchful gaze, Richard had been drinking copious amounts of coffee and now he was feeling the effects. The icy cold water, the chill breeze playing over his skin from the window that had been opened to help dry out the floor, and the pot of coffee he'd consumed had all conspired to make him full and uncomfortable. While he was focussed on serving his Mistress, it was manageable, and he could push it to the back of his mind. However, now his job was done, he knew he'd have to take care of it before too long.

Mistress K had taken the time to retire to her bedroom, and when she returned, she was immaculately dressed in the same snug knee-length pencil skirt and cream silk blouse that she had worn when he first met her. 'Oh, pet, you have served me so well, I'm taking you out for breakfast, my treat.' The fact that he had pleased his Mistress was reward enough, but the thought of accompanying her out, almost like a date, was a very exciting turn of events. He had never attended her anywhere other than inside her home. Her home where he was naked. Oh, God, she wasn't planning on parading him naked in public, was she? Surely not. He would be arrested!

Richard feared his emotions were playing openly across his face as she smirked a little and said, 'Well, get dressed pet.'

Richard picked up his clothes and followed her back upstairs into her homey little kitchen, getting dressed quickly and finger combing his hair to try to make himself look respectable. Just one more thing to do before they could leave.

'Mistress, this one respectfully asks to make use of the facilities before leaving?' Richard asked politely. He'd never needed to visit her bathroom before, other than serving her in the shower, so it felt a little awkward, like having to raise his hand in class and ask permission of an austere school ma'am.

'No, boy, you may not.'

Richard was taken aback. He knew his Mistress could be strict, but he never considered she may deny him such a basic bodily function. He searched her face for clues as to her objection and saw the tell-tale raised lips and gleam in her eye. Oh, yes, his Mistress was enjoying having this power over him. Well, it wasn't too bad at the moment and he could hold it, if that was what she required. At least there would likely be a public restroom wherever they would be having breakfast, so he could go there.

Lacing his shoes, he was ready to go, however, his Mistress had other plans, she had devised another devious challenge to make his life just that bit harder. In her hand she held a short leather strap, rather like a collar you might put on a small animal, and a spool of fine fishing line. Her smirk was back, and she seemed to relish the moment as she indicated the zip of his jeans.

'Open up for me, pet.'

Part TWO:

Richard warily unzipped his jeans as her hand reached in to place, not a chastity device, but something far more controlling. With the lightest of touches, the tight leather collar was fastened snuggly around the base of his now-hard shaft and under his heavy balls. Before he was allowed to stuff his rock-hard cock back into the confines of his jeans, her fingers once again caressed his length as she tied the end of the fishing wire to the buckle of the collar, holding the rest of the spool in her hand. With her other hand, she slowly, teasingly, tucked and rezipped, leaving the top button open and the fine thread tethering him to her. With an expert touch, his manhood was now leashed. Oh, how his Mistress knew just how to make him feel like a firmly controlled but cherished pet.

And with a tug, they were off.

As they walked into town, Mistress held his hand, the spool between their palms. The line was loose and quickly he forgot about the leash she had on him and just enjoyed their time together. It was a beautiful spring day and the walk along leafy streets planted with trees awash with blossom, was relaxed and romantic. He loved everything about spending time with her. She was a beautiful woman who was publicly claiming him as hers, and he breathed in the essence of her scent mingling with the fragrant blossom as the mild breeze stirred her hair. Soon the quiet streets turned into the bustling town centre, where a Saturday market meant that they were no longer alone, and Richard became more aware of the thread running from his fly to her hand. Would anyone notice? What would they think?

The anxiety was making him hyperaware of his genitals, and this brought his reasonably-comfortable semi roaring into painfully-uncomfortable life. It was also playing havoc with his full bladder, which was now becoming more urgent. Hopefully, they would arrive at the café she had in mind soon. The irony that his worry over drawing attention to his predicament was actually causing a hard-to-miss tenting that was highlighting that very area, was not lost on him.

Soon they were at the lovely little bohemian café where they first met. Once again, Richard opened the door and allowed her to proceed him, although the uncomfortable tugging when she moved more than one step away from him encouraged him to stay close. While usually he would escort his date to take seat while he queued for their order, today he was forced to stand beside her, quietly waiting for her to place and pay for their breakfast order. She didn't ask him what he wanted of course, but decided for him, ordering him a hearty 'full English' while she got herself an avocado bagel topped with a poach egg.

He couldn't help but notice that she also bought him a very tall 'Trenta' iced coffee, which the barista had helpfully explained was the largest cup available at 30oz, half as much again as the Venti, which had previously been their largest offer. Richard eyed the giant beverage as he took the tray, holding it carefully while keeping close to his Mistresses' side, however, he still endured a couple of sharp tugs when she felt he was not going fast enough for her liking. As they returned to their previous sofa by the window, his cock pulsing with need and his bladder starting to ache low in his abdomen, Richard struggled to remember what he'd learned in Biology class. He was sure they'd said that the average bladder could only hold about 16oz of fluid, and surely, he must be past that now. If he could at least empty what he was currently holding, then the new drink would take a while to filter through and hopefully he'd be able to handle it in increments. He'd also heard it took water to digest food so he tucked into his fry up quickly hoping that a lot of the liquid would be needed to process such a calorific meal.

Richard thought back on how far they had come since they were last here, when a gentle man had met a captivating woman, and their relationship had been born. He'd though himself content, and indeed he was to a degree. Richard had a comfortable life, a good relationship with his grown-up children and had learned to live with the loss of his wife some twenty years previously. However, once he had met Kate, he knew that so much of his day was just existing, going through the motions, without once really feeling alive. All his interactions with the beautiful woman before him had changed that irrevocably and despite his present discomfort, he wouldn't have it any other way.

'Drink up, pet,' she now smiled at him wickedly, 'You've barely touched your coffee and your breakfast is nearly finished. I really can't abide waste in any form, and I would so hate to think you didn't enjoy what I have chosen for you as your reward for all your hard work this morning. You do like it, don't you?'

Richard knew now that he was not going to get to visit the restroom in this café. He was going to suffer through this monumental drink then the entire journey home. Thankfully, her cottage was only about 20 minutes from the town centre, but already his stomach was beginning to ache and he needed to piss so bad, the whites of his eyes were yellow! He sipped more of the icy beverage, shivering slightly as the cold made the pain in his bladder even more acute.

Mistress seemed to be enjoying his discomfort hugely, and she leaned closer to him, her hand on his upper thigh, her breasts pressed against his arm, as she whispered in his ear, 'Look at you, squirming in your seat like a toddler doing the potty dance. I bet you wish you could squeeze yourself to help hold it in? Let me help,' and with that, she smoothed her hand up and over his engorged crotch, squeezing his throbbing shaft and sensitive crown through the denim. 'Is that better, boy? We wouldn't want you having a little accident in public, now would we? Can you imagine the humiliation of wetting yourself in front of all these good people? Children pointing and giggling, teenagers filming it and posting it online? You'd be a laughingstock. How would you ever live it down? Now, finish your drink like a good boy, it's time to go.'

Richard knew that the sooner they left the sooner they'd be home and hopefully, Mistress would relent and afford him some relief, so he took a deep breath, squeezed his thighs together and knocked back the remaining iced drink. Not only was his bladder painfully stretched, his stomach protested too at this excess volume and he felt uncomfortably full throughout. Mistress gracefully stood, tugging him to follow suit and they started to move, although not to the nearby door, they went instead to the back of the café to the customer restrooms. Oh thank God, Mistress was going to allow him to release!

Heading to the Ladies, she opened the door, slipped inside and said sweetly, 'Stay there, pet, while I powder my nose, there's a dear.' The door was shut and locked and Richard felt himself being tugged right up against it in the most unseemly way as the thread was stretched from the other side. Soon he could hear the tinkling of liquid against porcelain, like the lightest of spring rain, and the sound caused his overburdened bladder to spasm painfully. As he was now pressed face first against the door, he was able for the first time to sneak a hand down to feel his bladder which was now hard as a rock and pressing out obscenely, almost to his navel. He couldn't remember a time in recent years that he had ever been this desperate. Maybe on a school coach trip back in his youth when strict teachers would not allow the bus to stop on a long journey? With a flash of remembered embarrassment, he recalled that that trip did not end well for him. He'd ended up begging desperately, then crying with mortification before releasing all down his leg, making the other children squeal with horror and cruel delight as the golden evidence of his lack of control made its way down the bus. He was not that small weak boy anymore and he could do this. He had to do this; there really was no other option.

After what felt like an age, the sound of flushing and more water running freely down the drain provided a final cramping ache as his Mistress emerged, comfortable and refreshed from the facilities.

'Oh, that's much better pet. Are you ready to go?'

Part THREE:

Was he ready? He was more than ready, and he quickly replied in the affirmative, following her out of the café and into the busy street. He turned towards home but was stopped abruptly by a sharp tug to his cock leash. His Mistress wished to go shopping.

He couldn't do this. Despite his earlier pep talk, the contents of his stomach were now draining into his overfull bladder and there was literally nowhere to go. Unless he pinched himself closed, there was no chance that his stressed sphincter was going to be able to hold back the pressure of such a high volume of liquid even with his swollen hard-on pressing against the internal plumbing.