She’s Going to Burst!


(The descriptions still need work.)

She told me I’m too goody-goody in the bedroom. Most of the time she wants a gentleman but once in a blue moon she’s in the mood for something else.

“I want you to hurt and humiliate me and we’ll have fun!” were her exact words. She elaborated with a list of things like dog collars and horse whips but my fantasies were headed in a different direction.

I came up with a naughty plan but didn’t tell her the whole thing at once. I said we’d carry on like it was a normal day but she had to follow my rules. She didn’t know where things were going but she was ready to play along.

I told her to change into something nice with a short skirt and we’d go out.

“The first rule is you have to swallow anything I tell you to.” I demonstrated by taking out a juice box and inserting the straw between her shapely smiling lips. “You can nullify this and all other rules by telling me the safeword,” I added as she sucked on fruit juice.

She took the straw out of her mouth long enough to ask one question. “Do you pick it or do I?”

She choked with laughter when I said the safeword was “burst.”

We needed groceries so that was the first thing we did. I promised her things would get more interesting. She was perky and optimistic.

When we carried the bags to the car I made her stop to perform a favor. I took a water bottle out of the plastic and pointed it at her mouth.


She looked annoyed but unscrewed the cap and started drinking.

“Faster!” I said. I got a kick out of watching the muscles in her neck work as she glugged it down. When she finished she was struck with a look of embarrassment. Some people were staring at us.

“Another!” I commanded. I was gonna make sure more people stared. “Drink this one like you’re dying of thirst.” I took off the cap and physically stuck the neck of the bottle into her face. She drew back a bit then eagerly wrapped her lips around the plastic. She made exaggerated sounds of quenched thirst as she drank the water so quickly and sloppily that some of it ran down her neck and made her top wet.

“Good girl!” We continued to the van.

At home she started walking to the bathroom before the groceries were put away. I grabbed her wrist.

“Uh-uh-uh!” I scolded. “That’s the second rule. No going to the bathroom without asking me for permission.”

“Can I have permission?”

“Not yet.”

After we’d put away the groceries she asked again.

“No,” I answered again.

“How do I get permission?”

“You’ll find out.”

She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a passionate kiss.

“Good girl! You can’t go to the bathroom though.”

Her enthusiasm was waning but she perked up again when I said we should go on a romantic picnic. She wasn’t hungry yet so I suggested we take a long walk to work up an appetite.

I used the bathroom before we left. She just stood outside the door with her arms crossed.

We selected a picnic site and packed everything up and took to the bike trail. I spotted the bathrooms before she did.

“I know what you want,” I said and I motioned to the silhouette of the woman in the dress.

“Yes I want it,” she said.

“Do you really need to?”

“I do.”

“Then you need to ask.”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“That’s poor grammar.”

“May I go to the bathroom?”

“Still not right.”

“May I please have permission to go to the bathroom?”

“No.” I had something else in mind. I took hold of her hand and led her to the drinking fountain. She started to struggle when she noticed where we were headed. “You have to swallow,” I reminded.


“That’s the rule. If you’re sick of funny rules you know what to say.”

“No I won’t use the safeword. I want to see how this plays out even if it’s no good.”

Once she relented I was able to bend her knees and press her head down to where her mouth could receive the stream of water. I turned the knob and made sure she got a nice long drink.

“People are looking,” she whispered accusingly when I released her. She used her wrist to wipe away the water that was running down her chin. “They think you’re hurting me or something.”

“Then explain it,” I whispered back. “Try to sound frisky.”

“Don’t mind us,” she said to the elderly couple who were walking by. “We’re just playing.”

“That was nice,” I said. “You got the flirtatious sound without laying the sexiness on too thick.”

“Now may I have permission?”

“Not yet.”

Before long we were at the picnic spot. We were both pretty hungry by then but she had a more urgent need. I could tell by the way she was skipping and hopping around as we set down the blanket and got the food ready.

“What do I have to do to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ll tell you later. Try not to ask so often.”

“It’s hard not to!”

“Don’t get testy.”

We sat on the blanket. She fidgeted a little but got comfortable and seemed to forget her need. We had a nice dinner and didn’t talk about bathrooms. I was sure to remind her before we packed up.

“Do you want more to drink?”


“But you’ll drink it anyway. Watch while I pour.”

She snapped her legs together and shuddered as she watched the thin stream of yellow liquid slowly flow into the clear plastic cup.

“Those are such nice liquid sounds,” I teased. “Wouldn’t it be great to hear that happening under you while that shapely bottom of yours was perched on the comfortable horseshoe seat of a public toilet?”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked in a desperate tone. “I’ll do anything. Not literally anything but…” she trailed off as she shifted into a different sitting position.

“I won’t let you use the bathroom here but you may use the one at home.”

“That’s a long walk,” she complained as she uneasily stood up.

“What’s the matter? Think you’ll have an accident?”


“Did you already have an accident?”


“Why don’t I check?” I only brushed her leg but she jerked away forcefully.

“No!” she repeated in a more playful way.

“I bet the seat of your panties is all wet.”


“Then show me.”

We ran around a bit and once more attracted attention to ourselves. I brought the chase to a stop by saying “I can make you drink the rest of the lemonade.”

“No! There’s most of a liter bottle left!”

“Show me your panties or I’ll make you swallow every drop.”

She spun around and flipped up her skirt and her white cotton underwear caught the bright summer sunlight.


When the skirt fell and she stood up straight again she noticed a woman with two little kids was looking at us wide-eyed.

“Sorry! I got a little too frisky.”

“Good girl!” I said to my red-faced sweetheart.

“This is no good!” she said in a not so frisky voice as we were walking back home.

“What did you want?”

“Something kinky.”

“That’s what this is.”

“This isn’t what I asked for.”

“You asked me to hurt you.”


“Well doesn’t it hurt?” I asked as I motioned to her crotch.

“Yes but that’s not it.”

“You also asked me to humiliate you.”


“But aren’t you humiliated? You’ve made a few scenes in public.”

“Yes but it’s not kinky.”

“I think it is. I’ll tell you one thing I’m having fun.” That was about when we passed the other set of bathrooms.

“What do I have to do to go to the bathroom? Flash my panties again?”


“If we go over into the woods I’ll flash my breasts.”

“I still won’t let you use that bathroom.”

“I’ll flash everything! I’ll take off my panties. I’ll bend over a tree trunk. You can go to town! Just please let my go to the bathroom!” She accentuated the end of the sentence by stamping her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. It was a natural motion because her legs had been jumping and dancing around a lot lately.

“You’ll use the bathroom at home.”

“That’s such a long way to walk!”

“We’ll take a shortcut.”

The shortcut took us to a babbling brook.

“You jerk! You’re doing this on purpose!”

“Of course.”

“Where’s the bridge?”

“We can step over this creek.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“Just a hop.”

“I don’t think I can do it.” Her legs were plastered together and she was rocking from side to side.

“Then I know what to do.” I put the bags down and walked to her.

“What are…” she stopped saying words and let out a shrill squeal instead as I hoisted her up off the ground.

“Are you all right?” I asked the woman in my arms.


“Still dry?”

“Yes! Just carry me across the creek already!”

I did and then I crossed over again and back for the bags. She had her hands over her ears.

“Can’t stand the sound of flowing water?” I asked as I took her hands by the wrists.

“You’re touching me so much today,” she said. I was starting to feel like I’d gone too far but then she took my hands and pulled me close to her. “Don’t stop.” I could feel her squirm uncomfortably as we hugged.

“It’s not that far to get home,” I said. “I’ll race you! We’ll each take one bag and if you get home before me the rules are all null and void.”

“If you get home before me?”

“Then you’ll need permission to enter the house.”

She didn’t stop to think about it. She just ran. I’ve never seen those legs work so hard. But my legs are longer and stronger. I was waiting on the back porch as she trotted up panting and shaking.

“You must be parched. Have some more lemonade.”

She didn’t fight it but she wouldn’t put her hands on the bottle. I fed her like a baby as she laid on her side.

“That’s enough,” she said after swallowing about a quart and standing up.

“No it’s not!” I grabbed her around the waist and made her sit on my lap on the steps.

“If I have an accident it’s gonna go on you,” she pointed out.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I said as I inserted the neck of the bottle into her mouth.

This time she was the one who noticed we were being watched. As I lowered the empty bottle she hollered “We’re just being lovey-dovey!” to our neighbors across the street.

“Good girl!”

“May I use the bathroom in the house?”

“Not yet.”

“How do I earn permission?”

“Keep being lovey-dovey.”

I sat on the porch swing and invited her to take a seat next to me. She sat down and leaned over and practically melted to my body. She kissed me all over my head and neck and ran her arms up and down my body. I’ve never seen (or felt) her so lively before. Her legs were kicking in the air.

“Good girl!” I said when she slowed down and put one hand between her legs. “You have permission to enter the bathroom.”

She shrieked in delight.

“You may use the toilet once you perform one final act.”

“No! What? Oh whatever let’s just go inside.” She ran in place as I took out my keys and unlocked the door. She ran to the bathroom and waited inside. She had an urgent look in her eyes as she stared at the toilet without a word.

“What do I have to do?” she asked as I came in with some old towels. I covered the floor in case of an accident.

“You can use the toilet after I do.”

“That’s all?”

“But you have to watch. Get down on your hands and knees. There’s a good girl.”

She was on one side of the toilet staring at the bowl she desperately wished she was on top of. I stood on the other side. I felt a little silly about what I’d planned but I still followed through. I unzipped my fly and opened the seam in my boxers. The look on her face when I pulled out my manhood assuaged my embarrassment.

“I’ve gone too long without seeing that,” she said.

“The toilet?” I asked with a smile.

“I meant your penis but that’s true too.” She changed her position so she was sitting with her legs crossed and both her hands pressed between her thighs. “I’ve got a feeling between my legs that’s killing me and I don’t know how much of that is one thing and how much is the other.”

“Good girl!”

“I’m not just saying that you know.”

“Get back in your stance. Your legs have to be apart and your hands have to be on the floor.” She obeyed.

“Good girl,” I said again as I began relieving myself. I’d had a long wait too. I didn’t mean to make a sound but I exhaled loudly as the pressure in my bladder dropped.

I heard other sounds that weren’t coming from me. My lover squeaked and then whimpered softly. Those sad longing eyes were focused on the jet of liquid I was emitting with such pleasure. It hissed against the side of the bowl and made deep rumbling liquid noises as it turned the water yellow and foamy.

I managed to stop moaning but she started. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she let out this long pained sound. All four of her limbs trembled. My stream kept going strong. She had a while to wait.

“You can always say it” I reminded.

“I’ve waited too long to quit,” she said in a voice somewhere between a sob and a whimper. “Keep going.”

I did and boy did it feel good. It was just winding down when she made me jump.

“It’s coming out!” she screamed. There were a few drops on the towel below.

I was so startled I lost control of my direction and made some drops of my own. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face.

“Good girl! Still in position.” My bladder had attained a comfortable feeling of near-emptiness so I cut off my stream. “You’re such a good girl you have permission to pee in the toilet!”

Before the sentence was over she was sliding her panties down her thighs. There was a dark yellow spot shaped like a figure eight but the rest of the cotton was white and dry. I offered my hand and she took it. I pulled her off the floor as she glued her thighs back together and thrust her other hand in for good measure.

A golden drop was hanging off one of her knees at the end of a long liquid trail. More spots had appeared on the towel and new ones were showing up by the second. When she neared a standing position I saw two more drops slide down from behind her hand. The flesh was white she was applying so much pressure but something was still leaking through.

Between her efforts and mine we managed to get that pert little bottom of hers onto the toilet seat. I put my penis away and zipped up.

She moaned again and the volume and feeling were now multiplied by ten. But even the pleasureful sounds coming out of her lungs couldn’t muffle the liquid sounds coming out of her bladder. She went at that toilet bowl like a sandblaster. The hissing was intense. So was the roar of the urine rushing into the toilet water. It was like the rapids of a wild river.

Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. She had an expression of utter pleasure that I’ve never seen on her face. Not in such good lighting at least.

Once her moaning abated she opened her eyes and noticed the extreme interest I was taking in her body and the liquid flowing from it. She spread her legs wide and scooted back so I could take in the view. I’ve fired urine off that forcefully a few times in my life but I never thought I’d see that kind of pressure from a woman. It was like a raging golden waterfall.

“Oh God! I thought my bladder was going to burst inside me!” she said as her stream slowed. I was staring at our combined output. I’ve never seen toilet water so yellow.

“Thanks for not saying ‘burst’ before we were done. I’m sorry I made you suffer for my gratification.”

“Are you kidding? I loved every minute!”

“That’s impossible!”

“I was acting…to some extent. Thanks for the lovely day.”

“It was a lovely day,” I concurred.

“It’ll be a lovely night too if you’re in the mood.”