OhShelly (slaveoh) Master? May I pee?

My Master’s rule is simple: peeing requires permission. The rule reminds me that he owns my body, that he decides when I cum, and when I pee. It is not my pussy, it is his pussy.

Master wants me to feel his control when we are apart. He wants me to feel the need to find him and beg to pee. He wants me to feel the pressure in my bladder like the tightness of my collar around my neck.

He is not cruel; he wants me to be aware of the pussy that I take care of for him. If he is not available to ask, he allows me to wait 30 minutes and pee without permission and report that I have peed.

I am an obedient slave. I complied. And it was easy; I have always had a large bladder. I have rolled my eyes at my friends who have to “pee every 20 minutes.” This was an easy rule for me. My Sisters may have to scamper to our Master and beg, but I could be the calm, collected slave and wait for my Master and calmly ask.

My Master’s second command was also simple: drink water. Lots of water. Eight ounces every thirty minutes to start. It was as if he had tightened my leash and tugged me towards him.

He knew I had a long car trip home. He allowed me to pee before getting in the car, but my body wasn’t used to so much water and soon the pressure began to build. I am a good slave, I drank more water in the car. And soon it was almost unbearable.

I stopped at the store, feeling the ache in my bladder and the tired muscles holding back the flood. I pulled out my phone to contact Master and ask to pee. The screen was shattered, little cracks running through the glass in every direction made it impossible to use the touch screen. Impossible to contact my Master and ask to pee.

I don’t know how it happened. It was fine when I had put it in my purse, but I was holding a useless block in my hand. My Master’s slave needed to pee and she could not contact him!

I rushed home with my bladder screaming. Every bump in the road was a yank on my collar. All I could think of was getting to my Master. I found myself pressing my thighs together, feeling more owned as it got harder to keep from wetting myself.

Master was online!

“Master!” He didn’t respond… “Oh oh oh…. please be here… “

“I am”

“Ohhhh.... Your slave needs to pee so badly Master!”

“Pee now. As instructed.”

That is Master’s other rule: when I pee, I must grip my clit tightly. When he gave me the rule I thought it was just one of those things we do for men to please them, but isn’t pleasurable for us. But now I was sitting on the toilet needing to pee so badly that my entire body ached. My clit was no exception. The aching in my groin from needing to pee was also making my clit full and sensitive.

I pinched, and I peed. It hurt, it was messy, making me spray the bowl and getting urine on my thighs… but… it was arousing. My breathing was fast and shallow, the pain of pinching my clitoris balanced by the pleasure release of urine. The dirtiness of my action filled me with pleasure for obeying my Master’s orders.

When I was done, I sat for a moment, almost dazed by the experience. I wiped myself, went to the sink, grabbed a washcloth and cleaned my thighs and gently wiped my vagina, feeling the tremors of arousal forming.

But it is not my pussy, it is owned by my Master, and I am not allowed to play with it without his permission, so I returned to my Master to kneel before him. He was punishing my sister for peeing without asking. She couldn’t hold it and went too early.

Master has me drinking water so I can feel the same need to pee like my sisters, to feel that pressure build, and panic knowing I must find my Master... and beg... “Master? May I pee?”