Walking Home Again

This story contains Female Desperation, Deliberate Wetting, Humiliation, Golden Showers, and Domination. My parents didn’t think I should be given a car, so usually I preferred riding my bike to school. But since that memorable day, I chose to walk home more often, benefitting from the fact that I could get a lift in the morning by a neighbor working close to my school. I knew my parents didn’t expect me home at a specific time ‘ after all I was old enough to care for myself ‘ and I kept wandering along quiet roads, immersed in memories of “Lady Birch”: In my dreams I had needed a name for her, so I christened her after the tree standing in her front yard.At the same time, Lady Birch had started to feel qualms about that memorable afternoon. She realized that she had made me do things that I might not have wanted to do and that she had felt a certain kind of pleasure which she felt she should not have experienced in connection with someone so much younger than she was. On the other hand she couldn’t deny that I had not objected to anything and that there had been this pleasurable feeling not only of relief but also of power and dominance that had made her remember the afternoon as one of the best in a long time.As her neighbor was visiting for tea one afternoon, she decided to carefully hint at what had happened that afternoon, hoping to consult a second opinion without giving herself away.“Teenagers these days often are so misbehaved.” Lady Birch told her neighbor. “Remember how we talked about rubbish laying around everywhere? Right: As soon as you went to answer the phone, I caught one, dumping rubbish right in front of our house!”“Well, I don’t know if it’s only the kids, to be honest.” Her neighbor replied. “Did you speak to the student who littered in your yard? Kids tend to be rather rude if you ask them to behave’”“Maybe you’re right and adults are littering, too. The boy I caught seemed to be quite embarrassed about it. He blushed ‘ you wouldn’t believe how red his face was. I was rather relieved not to be aggressed, to be honest.” Lady Birch answered.“But then he ran away, didn’t he?” her neighbor inquired.“No, I think he might be quite a shy and well–behaved kid, actually. At least he followed my order suit and picked up the rubbish as I told him.” She did not dare to mention how desperate to pee she had been and that she had been quite distracted by her need to go to the toilet. Consequently, her observations might not have been very accurate, she thought.“Just to drop it at the next corner once you were out of sight!” the neighbor exclaimed skeptically. “That’s what I feared. So I told him to follow me into the house and dispose of it properly.”“You invited a strange teenager into your house? That is brave ‘ these kids can be quite violent.”“I wish I hadn’t!” she sighed.“See! There you go! What did he do?” her neighbor was taken aback. Lady Birch didn’t look as though something awful had happened. And didn’t she mention the boy had seemed quite shy and well behaved?“It’s not what you fear.” Lady Birch tried to ease her neighbor’s worries.As she didn’t seem convinced, she picked up her courage to admit: “Do you remember how I had just gotten home and we chatted along? I really needed to have a pee. Instead I ended up having a little boy in the house that needed to be shown everything. I was so angry at him!”“Ah, I see. But why didn’t you go for a bathroom break then before showing him the bins?” she wanted to know.She could have mentioned that she had noticed her neighbor’s predicament long before ‘ she had been wondering how long they could chat along at the fence before her neighbor would have to admit her desperation. It had fascinated her to watch her hobbling and twisting and she had secretly enjoyed to continue their chat, hoping to make her neighbor finally admit her desperation. Unfortunately, she had been interrupted by her husband’s call.“Would you have left some stranger standing in your hallway whilst you go to the loo? I mean, I didn’t know him at all’ No, I held on desperately and led him to the kitchen.” Lady Birch described the situation, feeling week at the knees from memory alone.“That’s true.” Her neighbor admitted, smiling inwardly as she imagined Ms. Birch’s desperation. “I don’t know what I would have done. But throwing away some candy wrappers and showing him the door should not have taken too long?”“If it were just that! I had to go so badly and I was shaking all over from anger since I had told him off for littering. And now I had ended up with this boy standing in my hall, absolutely clueless what he was supposed to do. My rising desperation’ His apparent lack of culture’ I felt I was going insane! I was totally tensed up and as he threw his wrapper and a tissue in the same bin instead of adhering to the recycling rules of the council I got mad at him in earnest. You know how the council is currently checking the bins and distributing fines!” “Oh yes, I would have made him pick up the stuff from within the bins and put everything in the right place, that is what I would have done!” the neighbor agreed.“Now imagine what happened: As I explained how to sort the refuse, I felt a sudden surge, unsupportable pressure had built in my bladder and I had to bend over. I managed to conceal my desperation quite well, but by bending over I lost one of the earrings I had been taking off. It fell right into the bins!”“Damned brat! If he had not misbehaved, none of this would have happened!” her neighbor interjected.She was secretly enjoying the story as she had enjoyed watching her desperate neighbor when they were chatting at the fence last week. This close she had been to an accident even when they talked ‘ how sad the phone rang just a few minutes too early!“That’s it! And in the shock of my jewelry falling into the bins I lost control over my bladder: a spurt escaped into my panties. Imagine the shame and anger I felt!“Her neighbor was surprised to see her neighbor so agitated ‘ last week, she had wondered if her polite neighbor would never admit to her need and leave her standing at the fence. Today she heard a fascinating story of Ms. Birch as a resolute woman telling off a misbehaving teenage brat whilst fighting her desperation. She discovered wholly new facets of her neighbor’s personality! Never had she imagined Ms. Birch would openly admit to being desperate for a piss ‘ even less mention the subject at a tea–time discussion.“Poor girl! I understand your misery! I would have made him retrieve the earring from the bins, and if he had to turn every single bit of rubbish upside down! Standing at his side, I would have watched his every move But in my state ‘ I was totally desperate, remember? I could have peed my pants any second!” finally, Lady Birch was getting at the point which upset her most.“True, awkward situation.” The neighbor admitted lightly, and, getting angry, continued: “But let him get away? No way! I’d rather have peed my pants in front of him than let him off the hook. And then I might have slapped my wet panties in his face ‘ just so he knows!“Lady Birch was just staring at her neighbor at this outburst. Certainly, she didn’t mean it?“I hope you didn’t let him run?” her neighbor asked after a pause.She was getting excited at the pure thought of doing what she said. She knew she was kinky, and she enjoyed it. But she wouldn’t let her friend know ‘ instead she was looking forward to hear more of the story.“Be assured, no! No, I had him search for my earring whilst I was desperately trying to hold on. It was a crazy situation ‘ I liked how he humbly took off his backpack and knelt down to scrutinize the garbage, his nose almost dug into the bins. Often, teenagers inspire me with fear, and it felt good to see him obey and submit to my orders after this excitement. But on the other hand, I felt losing control of my bladder and I had to fight hard to remain in control.”“Don’t say you actually humiliated yourself in front of that brat?” the neighbor asked. Somehow, she was hoping the opposite. What an exciting incident! She longed to hear the story’“Well, it took him quite long to go through all the bins ‘ it was that small gold and ruby earring, you know?”“No! No, you didn’t do it? If you only peed on him, at least!” the neighbor was getting excited. She seemed to be quite interested in the story; that much was apparent now.“At one moment, I felt I wouldn’t be able to hold it anymore.” Lady Birch confessed. “So I pulled up my skirt and stepped over the bins just in case ‘ to avoid wetting the floor, you know’ But I managed to hold on, fortunately.”“Whew, that was close! I thought you had given in to the call of nature. So he didn’t get the satisfaction of making you pee yourself, then?“Lady Birch seemed to detect a hint of disappointment in her neighbor’s voice. But no, impossible: Her neighbor did not yet know how she had wet herself in front of that little boy, she thought.“No, but he looked up as I moved close and I believe he saw my panties. I’m not sure if he noticed the wet spot from my previous accident. But he definitely looked very interestedly at my crotch.” Lady Birch blushed.“Instead of being punished he got a show ‘ let’s hope he doesn’t tell anyone about that spot ‘ people might believe you were aroused from making him dig in the rubbish.” Her neighbor commented ‘ it seemed as so she was rather interested in the story and aching to hear more. Was there a hint of arousal glinting in her eyes? “A young boy, you know’ Probably, he had never seen a woman’s panties before.”
“That’s what I thought. I told him harshly to continue searching for the earring. Unfortunately, I was so desperate now, I just couldn’t concentrate anymore.” “You know what I would have done? I would have pulled my panties aside and simply peed into the bins!” her neighbor teased, lurking for a hint that something similar had happened. “You won’t believe me: I started to pee my panties finally. I didn’t have time to do so much as to gather my dress and pull my panties aside before my bladder started to empty itself. I literally peed into the bins within centimeters of his face!” Lady Birch admitted, relieved her neighbor had suggested it first. “Whew, you must have been desperate then! I hope you enjoyed it and had him find your earring in the mess you left rather than searching yourself?” the neighbor was enthused. “I would have loved to see his face!” “Trust me: he was staring at my crotch all the time. He was flabbergasted and didn’t move an inch. I doubt that he would even have noticed if my stream of pee had actually hit him’” Lady Birch described the situation, blushing at the memory of it. “My urine was gushing out of my bladder, I had absolutely lost control, and I couldn’t do anything about it.” “And, did he have to clean up the mess? That would have been the least he could do!” the neighbor inquired, rather too interested. She felt her bladder filling fast by now ‘ or was it just the excitement? The tingle in her belly felt just so good! “Yes, he had to take off his t–shirt and he used it to clean my legs and later the bins. It was an interesting feeling to see him humiliate himself like this. I have never experienced something like that before and to be honest, I sometimes have pangs of conscience about it. I mean, I feel as if I enjoyed doing something wrong.” Lady Birch admitted. “Wow! That sounds like a memorable afternoon. I understand your qualms, but don’t you think that he would have said something if he didn’t like it? Anyways, I wouldn’t think too much about it: He definitely deserved it!” her neighbor consoled her. “I don’t know; he was such a shy guy. He seemed completely embarrassed as I caught him and in his shame he would just obey to anything I said. Maybe I shouldn’t have abused it so much? After all it wasn’t his fault that I ended up peeing myself?” Lady Birch tried to argue. She felt guilty as she remembered how she had enjoyed her relief, the feeling of power and domination as that boy had followed her orders and searched through the pissed bins to find her earring. It gnawed on her conscience that she was still enjoying the memory of that afternoon. Suddenly, she realized that the mounting pressure on her bladder was adding to the pleasant feeling. Her mind had made a connection between desperation and this exciting event. “I’d love to see that boy!” the neighbor admitted. “From what you tell me he would have licked your legs dry, if you had asked him. I bet he was turned on by what he saw!” “Maybe?” Lady Birch wondered, intrigued. “Still, I don’t think I should have asked him to. It would mean pushing things too far, don’t you think? By the way: I still have his socks lying around ‘ they had got wet, too and he forgot to put them on when he left me.” “I would love if he walked by just now so you could call him in to give his socks back. I wonder if he would admit to what happened last week!” the neighbor mused. She had observed Lady Birch’s mixed feelings and felt quite aroused by it. It turned her on to imagine how Lady Birch was standing over the bins, the little boy kneeling in front of her and gently cleaning her pee away. She loved how Lady Birch was fighting her bad conscience for secretly enjoying such a deed. There was a hidden vicious side in her neighbor she wanted to discover more about, she realized. She felt her full bladder pulse in her lower body, reminding her of the need to take a leak soon. She had consciously let her bladder pressure rise; she found it increased her arousal as she listened to her neighbor’s exciting story. But now the need to pee was getting uncomfortably urgent. And she felt she would soon have to release the tension arousing her, too. On the other hand, she longed to hear more details, to suck in every bit of information she could get before she went home to masturbate in the bathroom. This conversation had taken place a few minutes before I came along the street where Lady Birch lived. I walked deliberately slowly and hoped to get a glance at her or at least to refresh my memory by sucking in the picture of her house. “I need to go to the toilet ‘ your tea has made it through my system.” The neighbor said and got up from the table. The desire to touch herself was getting too strong and she would not be able to hold on much longer, either. She would have to leave soon. “Ok, in the meantime I shall put our dishes in the dishwasher.” Lady Birch said ‘ not realizing her friend was planning to leave. She got up, too, at the very moment I was passing her house. “Look: that’s him!” she almost shouted at her neighbor as she had seen me through the window. It didn’t take ten seconds and her neighbor had opened the window and called at me: “Hey boy, wait a second!” I had noticed the movement behind the window and stopped my steps, but still, I was taken by surprise as the window opened and a woman told me to stop. What was going on? “Quick, come here, tell him about the socks!” the neighbor whispered to Lady Birch. Shortly thereafter, Lady Birch appeared at the window. “You forgot something last time ‘ can you come to the door?” she asked me. I wondered what I had forgotten, since I couldn’t think of anything I was missing. But of course I took the chance and shyly walked to the door. I have never been brave and walking through someone’s front yard appeared quite daring to me at the time. I was quivering with excitement ‘ what was going to happen next? The door opened and Lady Birch asked me in. “You forgot your socks at your last visit, I heard?” the neighbor said. “Serves you right ‘ throwing rubbish in other people’s front yards must be punished!” I didn’t know what to say at this scathing remark. Therefore, and as it has always been my strategy, I remained silent whilst blushing a bit on the accusation. Or maybe more for excitement from the memories arising in my head? Often, I wonder if the bulge in my pants was visible back then’ “I shall quickly get the socks!” Lady Birch exclaimed and started to go down the stairs to the basement. “Why bring him ‘ he can pick them up himself!” the neighbor said with a hint of a vicious smile, ushering me towards the stairs. We were walking down ‘ Lady Birch in front of me, the neighbor behind. I heard a question: “I heard you didn’t even say sorry, when Ms. Birch caught you disposing of your refuse in her front yard?” the neighbor ‘ later introduced as Ms. Kryokova ‘ interrogated me. It was true. I hadn’t thought of saying sorry, I had been taken by surprise and then events had developed in a way that didn’t leave space for saying sorry. And now I felt way too embarrassed to say sorry a week later ‘ it would mean to admit that I had not thought about it for a week. And I was furious at myself, because by saying sorry I would have had an excuse to ring at Lady Birch’s door and maybe get a second glance at her. But that was a dream anyways and probably she would just have accepted my excuse and sent me off again’ “I see; you are quite an insolent brat that doesn’t think it is necessary to reply to a quesstion!” Ms. Kryokova went on. We arrived at the basement and went into the laundry room. There were heaps of clothes, a chair, the washing machine and not a lot more. “Sit down, it may take a while to look for the socks!” Lady Birch said.
So I went straight for the chair and ‘ after taking off my backpack ‘ sat on it as ordered. “Here you show again what an impertinent brat you are!” Ms. Kryokova said. “There is just one chair in the room and who takes it? The one who should be standing in the corner, ashamed of his conduct! Not a hint of manners in you, is there?” Ms. Birch turned round to check the situation. I was sitting on the chair almost in the middle of the room ‘ the ironing board that was normally standing in front of it had been put to the wall ‘ and Ms. Kryokova stood in front of me, scolding. Ms. Birch knew that Ms. Kryokova could be quite a bitch, but she did not step in. Firstly, there wasn’t much to be said against her argument and secondly, why should she defend me? Instead she suddenly felt that tingle in her belly that had accompanied her memories of last week’s incident. There was that boy sitting timidly on a chair, blushing because he saw his mistake and Ms. Kryokova was telling him how to behave. Did she enjoy this feeling of dominance, of exerting power over someone? It somehow pleasantly mixed with the pressure her full bladder caused on her lower body and the memory of a teenager staring, clearly exited, at her wet private parts; kneeling in front of her. Following a sudden inspiration, Ms. Birch suggested: “Why don’t you sit on his lap?” and with a cheeky grin she added “There is only one chair down here and whoever comes last can choose to share or to stand.” Ms. Kryokova seemed to hesitate for a second, but then she decided it might be a vantage position to sit on my lap. She straddled me and the chair and sat herself such that her breasts were almost strangling me. Like Ms. Birch she was a tall woman in her mid– to end–thirties. She was maybe a little plumper than Ms. Birch, and her breasts might have been even bigger. I had the impression that she was rather heavy, sitting on my lap in her wide, light summer dress. I imagined spying under her dress that had slid up as she had straddled me ‘ in reality I couldn’t see anything but her d’collet’. This was interesting enough, even though her breasts were well covered. It excited me to feel her body so close to mine. We had been sitting like this for a minute or so when, suddenly, I felt something warm on my lap. I couldn’t make anything of it for a while, all the time feeling the pleasant warmth spread over my lap. Suddenly, Ms. Kryokova was shouting right next to my ear: “What the heck! This brat is peeing his pants while I am sitting on his lap. Did you ever hear of such a rude behavior?” I knew this was not true, but I could not believe she would pee on my lap, either. Ms. Birch turned round when she heard the shout and looked at us, incredulous. “Is this true?” she asked sternly. I shook my head, not able to say anything. I still felt wet warmth spreading over my lap, finding its way between my legs and down my crotch. Ms. Kryokova still hesitated, before she got up slowly, now pointing to my crotch which sure enough was wet.
“Not true? Do you think I am a liar? What are you thinking!” she shouted at me. “Look at your pants and tell me what it is that makes them wet. How can you be stupid enough to deny such an obvious thing! Can’t you smell it is pee? My panties are soaking wet and I can still feel pee dripping from the drenched fabric back onto your lap’ Just a few seconds ago, as I was getting up, it wasn’t just a faint trickle but rather a firm stream ‘ so much piss had been collected inside my panties!” “You should not have done that!” Ms. Birch told me. “Whatever happened last week, you have no right to behave like this. Look at your clothes ‘ who is going to wash them for you, huh?” True enough, my trousers were sogging wet with barely a dry spot. I felt how I was sitting in a wet puddle, the moisture slowly soaking up my butt and down my legs. A few drops were already soaking into my socks, wetting my shoes from the inside. “He’d better take off his clothes now, so we can put them in the washer. And look at my panties ‘ they are still completely soaked.” Ms. Kryokova exclaimed, her face blushing red with anger. She lifted her dress and slowly turned around herself. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The front of her panties had become see–through and showed her dark pubic hair ‘ I ached to see more. Ms. Birch had been wondering what had happened, somehow she began to wonder if her neighbor had done the peeing. Was it because she remembered that Ms. Kryokova had wanted to go to the toilet immediately before or that she felt her own bladder fill relentlessly? Was it because of the ambiguity of her comment? The idea of Ms. Kryokova’s boldness to just pee on the boy’s lap and then accuse him had struck her as incredible but nevertheless, she started to feel more and more excitement about this possibility. How would things develop? Would the boy accept the blame? What was Ms. Kryokova aiming at when doing this? It took a while until she realized her fantasies were running amok. Impossible ‘ her neighbor would never have done this. Humiliate herself in front of her neighbor ‘ unthinkable. She blushed at the idea that she could suspect her neighbor of such an act just because of their innocent conversation before. No, certainly it must have been the boy! Maybe he’d done it out of shyness? But still it would have been him! And hadn’t he provided enough examples of his lack of manners, of his misbehavior, in just the few minutes he was here? “I’m not touching your wet pants, better take them off alone.” Ms. Kryokova told me. “And better do so quickly, I want to sit down again. It’s because of your insolent behavior that I have to stand at the moment!” I didn’t know what to do. I had not even grasped the situation yet; I had been taken aback and was distracted by Ms. Kryokova exposing her wet panties in front of me. I looked around for help. Ms. Birch had started to rummage for my socks again. She tried to hide her blush ‘ she felt pangs of conscience for her dirty fantasies as well as for projecting them on her neighbor. And she felt bad because she experienced jolts of excitement, her body convulsing with arousal every time she thought about the situation. It somehow reminded her of the wonderful experience she had had the week before. Obediently, I got up, opened the button of my trousers, opened the zipper, and pulled them down. “What about your panties ‘ they are soaking wet, too!” I was told. “And take off your shoes and socks, too. Or how are you going to pull your pants off? Put it all into the washer!” Hesitantly, I started to take off my shoes, socks, trousers. I waited even longer before pulling down my panties ‘ I didn’t want to show my penis, especially since it had gotten rather hard. Fortunately, it was covered at least partly by my long t–shirt, which, even though wet in the lower area, I had kept on. “That’s good!” Ms. Kryokova said. “Now clean yourself and the chair with the clean outer legs of your pants, or do you think I want to sit in your pee?” I had no choice but to take my pants at their soiled end, wrap them around my wrists and wipe my legs with the dry parts of it. The chair was almost dry since my pants had soaked in most of her pee, but I wiped it just in case. Finally, I went to the washing machine and put all my clothes in it, wearing only a t–shirt now. “Have you heard any word of regret or excuse?” Ms. Kryokova asked Ms. Birch behind my back. “I don’t think this little brat will ever learn how to behave!” “Don’t you think he might just be too shy to say anything?” Ms. Birch whispered. “Come on, you don’t believe it yourself!” Ms. Kryokova replied. “Isn’t he already sitting on the chair again instead of asking if I would want to sit there alone now, without risking to be peed on by him? And do you see that smirk on his face?” I felt really embarrassed at their accusations. Again, I hadn’t thought of the obvious, hadn’t said sorry. And at least Ms. Birch must believe that I really had peed my pants and wet her friend’s panties in the process. From humiliation and embarrassment, the grin on my face widened. I just couldn’t help it, as I was sitting there in front of the ladies and listening to their accusations. “Now that I look at it ‘ yes, I think you may be right. He doesn’t seem to have a bad conscience for wetting himself in front of us.” Lady Birch was relieved. This made her fantasies look less abominable to her. “And look at my panties: they are all wet and he didn’t even offer to clean them or help me take them off or anything.” Ms. Kryokova complained, lifting her dress again, showing her wet cotton panties. She then stepped closer to me and continued: “He just expects me to touch his pee and pull them off myself!” With this, she stood right in front of me, holding her dress up with one hand and taking the other hand to grab my hair. “Just have a close look!” she said. With a firm hold, she pulled my face towards her ‘ I ended up with my nose being driven right between her legs, her wet panties all over my face. For a second, I had the impression they were getting even wetter at this very moment. Was she starting to pee again? But after a few seconds, she pushed me back and released her grip. Ms. Kryokova felt excited: This was exactly how she had told her friend she would have done. She couldn’t believe this fantasy had come true so quickly ‘ yes, she had not slapped her panties in my face. But instead she had put my face into her wet panties, making sure they were really wet by releasing another spurt of her pee at exactly the right moment. She was totally excited. This was absolutely arousing and her innocent neighbor would even buy her story that she had been peed on. She looked at her neighbor: Maybe she was enjoying the situation as well? Maybe she wanted her story to be true to calm her bad conscience? Ms. Kryokova decided to take advantage of it! “Are you going to help me get out of these panties finally?” she asked me threateningly. And as I didn’t move immediately, she ordered: “Come on, take your hands and pull them down. But gently and make sure the wet parts don’t touch my legs! Don’t be afraid of your own piss!” Surprisingly gently she took hold of my left hand and put it to the hem of her panties. Then she took my right hand and placed it in her crotch, telling me: “As you pull the right hem down with your left hand make sure you hold the crotch of my panties tight with your right hand to keep it away from my thighs. Then you change hands and do the same on the other side ‘ but make sure not to touch my dress or my skin with your wet fingers!” I did as I was told and little by little I moved her panties down. I could barely concentrate, as more and more of her pubic mount was exposed. As I pulled the panties down, I saw her curly black hair appear until it was fully exposed. I glanced at her crotch, trying to make out her labia. She had less hair than Ms. Birch, I noticed, but her inner labia were less pronounced than the latter’s and of a lighter color. All the time I smelled her sweet, fresh pee which covered my face, mixed with that distinctive smell of pussy emanating from her. It was hard to concentrate. Twice, I almost touched her legs with the soiled crotch of her panties until I managed to pull them down to her knees. Sitting on the chair, I couldn’t move them without bending forward. Carefully, I tried to slide forward on the chair, but my naked butt stuck to the damp wood like glue. I couldn’t move without lifting myself up a bit. But that would have been obvious and I didn’t want to be scolded again. So instead, I bent forward a little bit and moved the panties past her knees. I had to bend more and more for the next centimeters ‘ my arms just weren’t long enough. I had moved another ten centimeters below her knees when I suddenly hit something with my head. I had bent too far! My forehead had touched Ms. Kryokova’s body ‘ exactly at her crotch. I moved my head back to see more clearly and felt pubic hair brush my eyelids. A drop of pee now shimmered in them. I blushed. I was touching a bare woman’s crotch! I felt a tingle down my spine ‘ this was an exciting situation. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice how I felt? Surely, she would get quite angry! “What’s up ‘ get it moving!” I was interrupted. “You’re not done yet!” Unfortunately, moving her panties further down meant bending further and so my head lost contact with her crotch and moved down in front of her legs. I was careful not to touch her legs, since my forehead had been in contact with her wet pubic hair and she would not want the pee to touch her legs. Finally, I had managed to get the panties down to the floor and she stepped out of them. I picked them up and brought them to the washer. “Take off your t–shirt and put it in there, too.” Ms. Birch said. “Then I can turn it on.” Turned towards the washing machine, I removed my last bit of clothing. I did not dare to turn round and face the ladies with my bare penis pocking straight to the sky. “Don’t dream! Come here, you’re not done yet ‘ there’s more cleaning waiting for you!” I heard Ms. Kryokova say. Turning round, I saw she was still holding her dress up, exposing her private parts to everyone’s sight (true, that were just her neighbor and I). She signaled me to come closer and pointed to the floor immediately in front of her: “Did you really think you would be spared to clean my skin?” she asked. “It is still sticky with your pee; you’d better hurry to dry that up!” I stood a few small steps in front of her, not knowing what to do next or how to proceed. But she would help me out soon: “Unfortunately, your t–shirt is in the washer now, so you have nothing left to dry me up with. But at least you can remove the pee ‘ kneel down here!” she said, still pointing on the floor immediately before her. As soon as I had moved forward and knelt down, she stepped forward and virtually covered my face with her pubic hair. “Tough luck, little boy!” she observed. “Since there is nothing else, I fear you have to lick it dry.” With that, she grabbed my hair and pulled my head back a bit. Then she directed: “Gently lick all the areas that were in contact with your pee. Start here.” She pushed my head to her right groin and, obediently, I started to lick. It tasted salty, a bit like sweat but somehow different. I found, I somehow liked the flavor ‘ and being that close to her vulva was simply arousing. Gently, I licked her groin, moved down to lick the inner area of her upper thigh, changed sides and did the same on the other side. I avoided the hairy area; I just didn’t know how to proceed. As I had finished with these two parts, I hesitated. Instead of saying anything, Ms. Kryokova just grabbed my hair again and pushed my face right into her vulva. Was there something wet dripping down my chin? Her pubic hair got in my mouth ‘ I found that quite disturbing. How could it be so wet? I didn’t realize Ms. Kryokova had taken the chance to once again spurt a little pee right onto my face. After a while, I figured out how to lick little portions of hair to remove that salty taste; and little by little I moved further between her legs and deeper into her fur, licking the skin underneath and progressing to her labia.
Ms. Kryokova spread her legs a little further, moving forward a bit. Now, she stood directly towering over me, my body leaning back, leaning on my arms that I had put behind my back on the floor to hold myself. My head was bent all the way back to my neck and I was licking her from below. The scent got more intense; I smelled that distinctive hue of vulva and took in the sight as much as I could every time I moved back a bit to take a breath. As she spread her legs more, her pubic hair parted a bit, clearing a free access to her smallish inner labia. By licking them, I noticed how they softly followed the movements of my tongue. When I got to their center they opened up a bit, giving access to her inner slit. My tongue found its way between them and as I moved forward, I felt her clitoris underneath a thin clitoral hood. Ms. Kryokova trembled as I did this; she pushed herself against my head, increasing the pressure. Her hips moved forward and my tongue ended up between her lips, tasting a new flavor of female juices, feeling a different consistency as I approached her vagina. At the same time, my nose was being tickled by pubic hair, its tip rubbing against her clitoral hood. She had almost pushed me over by now, I was more lying on my back than kneeling and she was almost on her knees over me. I don’t remember how long this continued, but certainly I didn’t mind doing it. And since somehow the moisture didn’t get less, I continued to lick until Ms. Kryokova suddenly shivered and then straightened up. In the meantime, Ms. Birch had felt her bladder pressure rise to unsustainable levels. She needed to go to the loo very soon. She had been so distracted by her neighbor’s actions that she had rummaged through the piles of laundry rather randomly and not taken any attention. If she were honest, she thought, she had probably watched us most of the time instead of doing anything useful. She was thrilled by her neighbor’s relentless pursuit of retribution and punishment. With her mounting need to pee, she was even more distracted and now she realized she had absolutely no idea where she had put my socks. To get a clear mind and focus on the relevant things she decided she would need a bathroom break first of all: “Ms. Kryokova, I’ll have a quick run to the toilet ‘ I’ll be back in a second!” she said. “You need to pee?” Ms. Kryokova asked. “Then why don’t you show this brat what it feels like to be peed on; teaching him a lesson? I am sure you won’t leave me alone with this brat, will you?” Ms. Birch was intrigued by the idea but she didn’t feel she could admit it just like that. And would it be fair to the boy? Well, after all he had started it and wet her neighbor without asking or thinking about the consequences. It would only be to show him how it felt to be peed on! “How do you think I should do that? I can’t just walk up and pee on him ‘ imagine the mess it would be.” She replied. “Uh, come on. You’re not that simple minded, are you?” her neighbor teased. “Just sit on his lap and let go. I’m sure he will volunteer to clean up the mess afterwards.” “But then I would be sitting in my pee as well. I don’t think I like that thought.” Ms. Birch objected, still hesitating. But a shiver in her lower body told her that she would give in soon, that she wanted to do it in her deepest, secret, desires. “It will only last for a moment and it will be your pee. I have been sitting in his pee and it took him until now to clean it away.” Ms. Kryokova argued. “I’ll remain standing here holding his body back, so he can’t move.” Ms. Birch was convinced. Her desperate need to pee, the excitement of abusing the power they were exerting over me and the sexual arousal from watching me lick her neighbor’s pussy were enough to overcome her education and conscience that were telling her not to do it. She moved over and sat on my lap, getting ready to piss. She felt her sphincter relax, finally allowed to release the floods stored inside her. A first squirt found its way through her urethra and spilled into her vulval vestibule. How exciting! Memories of her desperate efforts to stop wetting in front of the brat she was now going to teach a lesson came to her mind. Just like that she had squirted into her panties before she had accepted defeat and pulled her panties aside, straddling the bins in the kitchen. No need to worry now, she thought and released another spurt ‘ just to jump up again. In her confusion she had forgotten to take off her panties’ Ms. Birch stripped off her panties, lifted her skirt and squatted over my lap again. I could only just see the lower part of her panties as she lifted her skirt to take them off; my view was limited by Ms. Kryokova’s crotch and legs as she was standing about a foot in front of my face. But still I was certain I saw a dark spot in their crotch ‘ she had again wet into her panties! Now I felt pubic hair tingle my prick as Ms. Birch got close. She hesitated, then stopped to move closer. I couldn’t see how she was contemplating her wet panties, mixed feelings from excitement to shame, from humiliation to satisfaction mirroring in her face. For almost a minute, nothing happened. Then suddenly, I felt something hot hit my penis and saw a strong stream of light golden pee emanate from her pubic bush. As the pee hit my body it sprayed everywhere and covered my lower body with splashes of warm liquid. It felt wonderful, I realized. But fifteen seconds later, everything was over. Ms. Birch got up, dried her pussy with her panties and dropped them in the puddle on my lap, and ran upstairs.
Ms. Kryokova only realized what had happened when she heard the door close ‘ she had been facing the opposite direction. Now, Ms. Kryokova and I were left alone in the basement and silence settled upon us. My mind was completely gone ‘ I just sat there, dreaming on, staring at Ms. Kryokova’s private parts and experiencing new levels of peace, joy, and happiness, sitting naked in a puddle of Ms. Birch’s pee on a cold tile floor, her panties hanging from my penis and lying on my lower body, slowly soaking in the puddle around my navel. Ms. Kryokova’s voice disrupted the silence: “Ok! Get up and clean yourself in the shower over there. Then take the mop and bucket and clean the floor.” After I had showered very quickly, Ms. Kryokova locked the door, took off her clothes and stepped in the shower ‘ taking the keys with her to make sure I couldn’t escape. As she was finished, I had cleaned the floor and put the dirty mop and Lady Birch’s panties onto the heap with laundry waiting to be washed. “Now listen: Here are your sports clothes which were lying next to your backpack. Put them on and go home. You can pick up your other clothes later ‘ but make sure you don’t tell anyone what happened here tonight or you will be in big trouble!” Ms. Kryokova told me. How could she suspect I would ever tell anyone that I had been peed on! And even worse: that I had liked it? No, I wasn’t gonna tell! ‘ Alpian (alpian [at] live [dot] de )