The Four Horsewomen of the Pisspocalypse

I was innocently walking down the street when I saw Kelly and her three mates outside of her house. I should have turned there and then and headed back the way I’d come, because Kelly and her three mates aren’t known as the Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse for nothing.
They’re trouble. Nothing serious you understand. We’re not talking violence here, but they do have weird senses of humor that leave the victim often failing to see the funny side. For example a girl I know was walking past one of their houses when she got utterly drenched by a bucketful of water dropped on her from a bathroom window. Bad enough, but she’d been on her way to a job interview and dressed up in her best suit – black jacket, white blouse and black slacks. That’s the kind of laugh they enjoy.
As I approached them I consoled myself with the fact that I could see all four of them and there wasn’t a bucket in sight. I walked past them trying to avoid their eyes. I thought I’d got away with it and all, but the second I relaxed and thought I’d got by them unscathed, I felt a firm grip around my waist and I was trapped like a fly in the web.
And while I’m a reasonably fit 20–year–old bloke, I’m no match for Kelly.
Think old style Soviet shot putter and you see her. As her meaty arms enfolded my waist I froze. Before I could even try to struggle the other three had surrounded me. They’re not quite in the Soviet shot putter class of size, but together they form a solid wall of spitefulness.
Together they rugby scrummed me through the house and out to the back garden and before I knew what was going on I found I was being tied to one of the poles that held up a washing line. The rope was wound around my chest so it also had the effect of pinning my arms to my side and rendering me well and truly trapped. This was done with an almost military precision that would have been quite impressive if it wasn’t for the fact that I was on the receiving end.
One of them, Jay the spiky blonde with a love of black leather mini skirts and black fishnets, grinned at me before shoving a bottle of water into my mouth and forcing me to drink. I didn’t try to fight it because for starters I couldn’t and secondly if I had tried she’d only have shoved the bottle in further and I could have ended up choking or even losing some teeth.
At least it was water. Knowing them it could have been a lot worse.
Once I’d finished the bottle it was removed and I was left to stare at them.
Kelly shoved her face into mine. Did I mention that not only does she look like a Soviet shot putter in size, she resembles one in good looks and all?
“I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” she said. “First the good news. You can leave any time you like. All you have to do is perform a task.”
I blinked. Perform a task? Tied up like this? What did she want me to do? Harry Houdini’s Greatest Escape?
“All you have to do,” she continued, “is piss yourself and we’ll let you go.”
Did I hear her right? Did she say, piss yourself?
“But don’t think you can get away with a little dribble of the stuff. We’ve got to be satisfied with it.”
I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. I looked at their grinning faces. Kelly and Jay I’ve already described. The other two are Candy, who bears a resemblance to Grace Jones, if you remember her and Fiona who with her long blonde hair and love of flowery short summer dresses gives the impression of innocence (Keeping on the pop comparison theme, I guess you’d call her the Baby Spice of the group. The other three are all Very Scary Spices).
It was Fiona who spoke next. “Or we could put it another way. If you don’t wet yourself the longer you’ll be here and if we start to get bored…” she opened the button on the waist of my blue jeans. To my horror my cock started to swell and the tight denim didn’t do much to disguise the fact. All four of the rotten cows pointed and made “ooohhhing” noises. Fiona grinned and gave the material over my cock a little scratch with her long fingernails. A jolt went through me and I swelled a little more. Part of me loved this and the other part hated it.
Fiona re–did the button and finished saying, “who knows what we might end up doing to you? Now we’re going in for a drink for ten minutes and when we come out we expect to see you go pee–pee.”
Talk about the devil and the deep blue sea. So they left me there tied to the washing line pole. To say I felt a right prat would be an understatement and I was an angry prat as well because I could have avoided this. I pondered on their words. They wanted me to piss myself. The very thought suddenly seemed to have the effect of filling my previously empty bladder. The water Jay had shoved down my throat certainly hadn’t been enough to fill it, though it had given me a touch of indigestion.
I pondered my options such as they were. I could either embarrass myself by pissing in my pants like a little kid and then having to walk home with a very embarrassing stain on my jeans, or I could refuse and face their revenge, that really didn’t bear thinking about.
I was still pondering when they returned with big grins on their faces and Kelly had a large pair of scissors! The sight of those things made up my mind beautifully. In fact it damn nearly made me wet myself!
“So,” Kelly said, “have you made up your mind yet? Start pissing or we start cutting.”
Cutting what, that’s what I wanted to know. Cutting– bloody– what!
Fiona stepped forward again. “See, you can either walk home in pissy wet jeans, or you can walk home in no jeans at all because we’ll have sliced them into ribbons. I know which I’d prefer to see. Pee–pee.”
Obviously she was playing the good cop to Kelly’s bad cop. Well now I knew my choice and if they started to cut my jeans who knows want else they might cut either intentionally or accidentally in the process.
I swallowed hard and blushed as I said, “I’ll pee myself.”
Fiona clapped her hands. “Oh goody.”
Kelly said. “So start pissing.”
I took a deep breath and trying to avoid their stares I tried to release the contents of my bladder, but it stubbornly refused to flow. Kelly frowned and started to snip away rather near my crotch where my treacherous cock had again swelled. Was I being turned on by the threat or the thought of humiliation? It made me pause to ponder.
“Five seconds,” she growled.
Jay suddenly chirped up, “You’re probably too tense. Relax.”
Relax? With a great big pair of scissors only inched from circumcising me? But I tried and then I felt the whole of my lower body go numb as I managed to release the first squirt of piss. At first it was but a dribble and I thought that was going to be all I was going to produce. A little wet spot appeared on the crotch of my denims on the right side of my zip where my erect cock had settled.
But it seemed that drop sort of got me going so to speak. It was out, I was stained and then I let go completely. I could feel the warm piss collecting in my underwear. I stared at my jeans as the dark wet stain began to grow a little bigger with each passing moment. First it was the size of a 5p piece and then the size of a 50p and then it began to run down my crotch.
I was surprised at how warm the piss felt as it began to temporarily pool around my balls before finding its way through my cotton underpants. Now I was in full flow and fully committed. I kept my stare on the jeans. I didn’t want to see the grinning chops of the Four Horsewomen.
By now the front of my crotch was stained dark and shiny with my piss. Then it began to work its way mainly over my right thigh, but a rivulet was finding its way down the inside of my left leg. I concentrated on the flood that was soaking my right leg.
The warm piss soaked down my thigh before dribbling down below the knee and into my shoe. I was getting startled at how much I was now pissing and how much it was soaking my jeans. I hadn’t expected it to be this much if truth were told. My crotch was soaked right through, gleaming wet and my right thigh was virtually soaked completely. I could feel some piss running down the backs of my legs as well.
By now my shoes were well and truly full of piss and my socks were soaked. There was now a big puddle around my shoes where the piss ran out of my jeans in a steady flow.
Finally the flow stopped. For a second the piss continued to run down until it ended with a few drips. Jesus. The front of my jeans was plastered to my legs and my underwear clung to my balls and cock. I could smell the acrid aroma. I stared at the big puddle around my feet. I felt embarrassed, ashamed, very uncomfortable and if I’m honest, a little bit excited.
Then I heard a round of applause and the Four Horsewomen started chanting, “He’s pissed his pants, he’s pissed his pants, Barry’s pissed his pants,” to the tune of ‘Football’s Coming Home.’ I felt the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks.
Fiona came up to me. “There, wasn’t so bad was it?”
I didn’t say anything. I just wanted them to let me go so I could get the hell out of there. I was busily trying to work out a way home that would cause me minimum embarrassment. Then I saw Kelly pull something from her jacket pocket. I then recognized it as a digital camera. Oh, no!
“Smile,” she said, “you’re going to be on the Internet!”
AAAGGGHHH!!!!!
PeeJay