'𝒕𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒋𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒚 ₊ ˚ ☆ . ʳᵉᵛᵉʳⁱᵉ & ᵏᵒᵘʳᵃ ❪ ⁿ ˢ ᶠ ʷ ❫

[reverie.]

ᴀ  ꜱ ᴇ ᴀ ꜱ ᴏ ɴ ᴀ ʟ  ʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇ ᴘ ʟ ᴀ ʏ  ʙ ʏ  ʀ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ᴇ .  ᴀ ɴ ᴅ  ᴋ ᴏ ᴜ ʀ ᴀ   ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Christmas time was always busy for restaurants, and with one of their waitresses sick with the flu, Bethany covered a lot of extra hours. Tonight was no different. Or, the only thing different was that she'd missed the right bus and had to take the one that stopped a few blocks from her apartment. Which normally wouldn't bother her as much, but as she got off the bus she realized how full her bladder was. She hurried down the street, cursing herself for not using the bathroom at work before she left, but then again, she'd been so sure she would make the bus. Going back had not been an option. So, Bethany had waited a couple of minutes for the next—wrong—bus, which not only stopped further from her apartment but also took a detour. She didn't realize how much she needed to pee before she'd gotten up from her seat. Damn Lucy for making her that hot chocolate. So close. She was so close to her apartment, and so lost in her own thoughts and discomfort that she barely missed the police officer standing in front of her door. And not just any officer, but Mark Whitaker—her ex's father. Holding back a groan, she forced a smile to her lips. It was Christmas, after all. "Mark," she greeted him, closing the distance between them. She had to concentrate on walking so he wouldn't notice how uncomfortable her bladder was making her. "What are you doing here? Everything all right with Nathan?" It had been months since she and his son broke up, even longer since she'd seen him. Yet there he was, outside her fucking door—blocking it, really. He'd better not have a lot to say, because her bladder was about to burst. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "Bethany." Mark bobbed his head to greet the young woman, his dark eyes focusing on her as he frowned. "Oh, Nathan is fine. He found a new girl."He could recall thinking Nathan and Bethany would marry one day. The gorgeous brunette had been a common sight at the dining table, her laughter filling the room. Nathan had genuinely seemed to love Bethany, his eyes lighting up whenever she turned to look at her. Fate had had other plans for the two of them. Nathan and Bethany had broken up just before the fourth of July. That all felt like a lifetime ago. He was no longer the same man she had once known. Laura had died just after Halloween, the past weeks jumbled in Mark's head. Brain cancer. He could still remember the gut-wrenching despair when he had first heard the words over the phone. They had made a list of things to do together while she was still alive, trying to cling to any resemblance of hope they could muster. A few days later, a massive stroke had left his wife bed-bound, undoing all of their plans. Mark had taken PTO, sitting by his wife's side, simply holding her hand even when she was no longer truly there. Death had come for Laura soon two weeks later. "Unfortunately, I am here for work, Mark murmured, his voice soft. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his badge, flicking it so that Bethany could see it. Not that she didn't know that he was a cop. "You know Anthony Hendrix, don't you?" he asked, tucking his badge back into his pocket, his voice tense. "He seems to know you at least. Would you mind if we had a little talk?" He looked at the young woman as if she was in trouble, stepping to the side as if to allow her to open the door to her apartment. ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany looked puzzled for a moment. If he wasn't here because of Nathan, why was he there? She crossed one leg over the other, pressing them together as she waited for him to continue. Her bladder had suddenly gotten worse now that she had come to a halt. It didn't surprise that Nathan had found a new girl—he was already seeing one before they broke up. Bethany just hadn't told anyone, and Nathan sure as hell hadn't even though she doubted it was a secret. They had been together for quite some time, but in the end, he hadn't been ready to settle down. He'd also told her she was too boring, but that wasn't true. She'd just had enough of his bullshit. A lot of people had been surprised when they broke up, perhaps Nathan's family the most. She'd spent quite a lot of time with them during the three and a half years they were together. Now, it felt like a lifetime ago. He was there for work? She couldn't come up with a single reason why she could be of any help to him or any ongoing investigation—until Anthony's name slipped past his lips. Her face paled. "I know who he is, yes." She didn't tell him that they'd been on a few dates and that they had fucked last weekend—and the weekend before that. "As long as it doesn't take long," she said, pressing yet another smile to her lips. Bethany wasn't particularly interested in discussing her new potential boyfriend with him, but she also didn't want to tell him that she couldn't answer a couple of questions because she had to pee. Of course, there was no crime to pee, but a grown woman shouldn't need to excuse herself because her bladder was about to burst. At least not in their own apartment. She fiddled with her keys, unlocking the door without moving her legs—stretching slightly to reach the lock. "After you," she said, motioning for him to step inside. Her apartment was small; nothing like the apartment she'd shared with Nathan all those years. She followed him inside, taking tiny steps before removing her shoes and jacket. "Am I in some kind of trouble?" she asked nervously. Even if he said no, she'd be soon if she didn't find a toilet within the next five minutes. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Seeing the young woman turn pale, the gruff officer licked his lips, certain that he had her. "I don't know what he has told you," Mark said as he stepped into Bethany's apartment, the tall man stopping for a moment so that she could turn on the lights. "But." Rolling his neck, he turned to face Bethany again, his expression sober. "Anthony has got history with us." He offered her a sardonic smile, his eyes gleaming ominously. There was no mistaking what he had meant with his words. It was no coincidence Mark had not answered her question. He well knew his little visit might take a while. "He might be in trouble. I can't tell you more." The tall man huffed, figuring she'd understand. "But he's why I am here." There was a short pause, Mark frowning softly. He couldn't quite tell her everything he knew. Chances were Bethany would have reacted very differently had she known that the police had arrested her boyfriend two hours ago. Not that Mark could be certain of the relationship the two had. Anthony had testified that she had been helping him to move the goods around and judging from what he had seen on Anthony's phone, the two were close. Knowing that Bethany had allowed him to lay his hands on her had left Mark fuming. "I don't know if you are in trouble, Bee." He used the nickname Laura had given to her, smirking. "That's what I am trying to find out." Sighing, Mark glanced at the ceiling. "I never thought that a sweet girl like you would end up with someone like him." Shaking his head, he looked at the young woman, his expression inscrutable. "I need you to be honest with me, Bee." Mark exhaled softly, letting his words sink in. He wanted to be sure he had her full attention. "Has he been here?" Mark's dark eyes focused on hers, the callous man wondering if she had slept with Anthony. The thought left a taste of bile in his mouth. She ought to have known better. "Stayed over? Been here without you being at home?" He was hoping she would cooperate. He was hoping she'd be a good girl and play nice. "Tell me," he commanded her, his voice calm. ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ What did he mean, I don't know what he's told you? What exactly was Tony supposed to tell her? She turned on the lights to her living room as she passed him, stopping shortly after she'd made it to the living room. The next time she moved, it would be towards the bathroom. "What do you mean, history?" she asked him, this time she sounded worried. It was obvious that Mark was hiding something, but could she blame him? He was a police officer, after all. "What aren't you telling me?" There had to be more to the story, and although she wanted to know what it was, she also wanted to finish this conversation as quickly as possible. Bethany wanted him out of her apartment before she rushed to the bathroom. If Tony might be in trouble. . . did that mean she was in trouble too? But why? She tried to study his face for answers, but she'd always had difficulty reading the man. And when he used her old nickname, her expression softened. "Mark," she said sharply. "What do you mean, someone like him?" Bethany looked slightly annoyed at this point, but to be frank, it was more because of the pain in her lower abdomen than his presence. However, what he was saying, or rather not saying, certainly didn't help her mood. "Can you please just cut to the chase?" Once again she pressed her legs together—squeezing them, really. She prayed he wouldn't pay attention to it. For all he knew, she could be bored. Bethany should have known which questions he was going to ask, but still, he caught her off guard. "Has he been here?" she repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. She wanted to tell him that it was none of his fucking business, but if this was an ongoing investigation of some kind, she didn't want to be a hindrance. She took a deep breath, preparing for his judgment. "Yes," she eventually said. "He has been here." There was no need to give him a number. Bethany couldn't quite understand why any of this was relevant. Did it truly matter who had been in her apartment, or was he simply just curious about who she was screwing these days? "He—uhm—has stayed over a couple of times, yes. Has locked himself out after I've gone to work. Why?" She narrowed her gaze at him. "You know, you're not exactly in any position to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, Mark. Not anymore." Her tone was cold with a hint of regret. She'd always liked him. He'd always been supportive and helpful, even after the breakup he'd make sure she was okay. He'd always been attractive, but now that she wasn't with Nathan, she couldn't help but notice how handsome he truly was. And now that she realized what she'd just insinuated, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. If he hadn't already guessed that she was fucking Anthony, he would now. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "He's got a hell of a rap sheet for a man of his age," Mark scoffed, his distaste audible. He had never hesitated to make his opinions regarding the criminal masses known. "I guess he forgot to mention that. Just slipped his mind. Happens." He ridiculed the young woman, curious to see how she'd react. Bethany was hardly the first girl Anthony had managed to charm. The scumbag was handsome, he had to admit. Suave too, if he wanted to. "He's served time too." While Anthony wasn't strictly a gangster, he was relatively well-connected and his short stint behind bars had only made things worse. He had friends among the gangs that controlled the local drug trade. "Did he tell you he had made money with investments?" That was the story the crook had told them when they had asked him about the money they had found in his apartment. The sleazy fuck-face was a pathological liar. Mark couldn't wait to send him back to prison. "I am the one asking the questions, Bee." He cut her off, never raising his voice. "Work, remember?" Mark exhaled softly. He had expected the young woman to behave. Now she was getting on his nerves. "This is easy as you make it. You answer me or I'll drag your ass to the station." He paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow as if to see the young woman if she wanted to question him. "And I will if I have to. Are we clear?" His tone allowed no arguments. Mark expected Bethany to talk. "You can fuck the entire Cubs roster all I care," he grunted, naming the local football team. Mark was getting more and more annoyed with the young woman, some of his frustration creeping into his voice. "It's when you start sucking drug dealer cock I start to care." Exhaling softly, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a carefully folded paper. "Now, take a look at this, Bee." Mark unfolded the watermarked paper and handed it to Bethany, offering her a wry smile. "It's a warrant. For your apartment." Going through the document, Bethany could see that a federal judge had permitted the police to search her apartment. It seemed that the judge had agreed that there was reasonable reason to suspect that she was involved with drugs. That some might be found in her apartment. "So you sit tight. Now." Mark pointed at a chair that stood by her computer desk. "And let me look around." Glancing at the small woman, he tilted his head to the side, wondering if she would dare to protest. "You have nothing to hide, do you?" ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany tried to conceal her shock, but she wasn't entirely sure she succeeded. What he was telling her was breaking news to her and to think that she'd let a criminal into her apartment—into her bed. She'd even let him fuck her ass once. "He told me that," she lied, forcing the words out. "He told me that it was all in the past." It was all lies. Anthony Hendrix hadn't told her shit. Or, what he'd told her was exactly what Mark suggested he had, that he'd made his money through investments. She hadn't even considered asking for details or questioning him about it. Why would she? They weren't that serious—not yet. But hearing Mark's words made her inside crawl a little bit. Who exactly had she let into her life? "Then ask your goddamn questions," she snarled. Perhaps she would have been more compliant if her bladder wasn't giving her such a hard time. But she really needed him to leave, so the faster he'd go through his questions the better. When he reached into his pocket, a part of her half expected him to pull a gun on her—what he waved in her face was so much worse. She clenched her jaw, squeezing her legs harder as if her bladder had a mind of its own and had just been informed that it wouldn't make it to the toilet anytime soon. Grabbing the piece of paper, she looked at the warrant in disbelief. "You can't be serious," she muttered, the color draining from her face once more. She glared at him, her eyes never leaving his face even when he pointed in the direction of her desk. The last thing she wanted was to move—especially in that direction. If she sat down, she wouldn't be able to get back up without peeing herself and that wasn't going to happen while he was there. Bethany inhaled sharply, obviously offended by his words. "Of course not," she hissed. The only thing—or things—she had to hide was a few questionable items in the back of her bedroom drawer, but she doubted he would find those. The brunette gave him a cold glare and a sarcastic smile, "Please, make yourself at home, Officer." But instead of sitting down like he'd ordered her to, Bethany moved to the right. If he was going to stick around, she had to empty her bladder. She just wasn't going to announce it. However, she could barely hide her discomfort anymore and her short footsteps and the hint of fear—or perhaps it was embarrassment—in her eyes might be a dead giveaway that something was going on. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "He lied." Mark scoffed, indignant. The sleazy little bastard could be surprisingly persuasive when it suited him. Spotting Bethany's number on Anthony's phone had been a shock. He'd thought she had more sense than to get tangled up with a guy like that. "Fucker can't help himself. Thinks he's too smart to get caught," he muttered, amusement tinging his otherwise soft voice. In the end, Anthony was no different from the rest of the crooks—convinced their schemes would never unravel. "And yet, here we are. Again." He chuckled dryly, memories of Anthony's past escapades flashing through his mind. Last time, they'd tracked him to three separate apartments. Somehow, the conniving bastard had been juggling three girlfriends, none of whom had a clue about the others. Mark had taken great satisfaction in bringing all three of them to court. "Watch your tone, Bee." Fury flickered in Mark's sharp eyes as he stepped closer to the young woman. The old cop's patience was running out. She'd let a drug dealer into her bed, and that fact alone left him fuming. Fixing her with a penetrating gaze, he leaned in. "I really hope you're telling the truth, Bee," he said, his voice soft. "For your sake." "Dead. Serious." Huffing, Mark snatched the warrant back, folding it with careless precision before stuffing it into his pocket. "You know they don't hand these out just because we ask nicely." That wasn't entirely true. Mark had connections, and the judge who signed the warrant was a personal ally. Still, Bethany didn't need to know that. He'd pushed the warrant through mostly to spite her—he'd never quite forgiven the way she'd left Nathan. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Mark snarled when Bethany tried to slink away from him. "Did I not tell you to sit the fuck down, Bee?" He closed the distance, the tall man standing close enough for her to smell his aftershave. In one swift motion, Mark seized her wrists, steering her backward toward the chair. Step by step, his grip firm, he forced her down. "Sit," he growled, his voice brimming with cold authority. He held her gaze as if daring her to defy him. "I can't have you interfering with the search. So, you're going to sit there like the good little girl you are, or I'll get my handcuffs and you can wait on the floor until I'm done." Figuring that the young woman would not have the tenacity to fight him, Mark let go of her wrists, taking a step back. His dark eyes remained intent on her, his expression grim. "Now," he said, his tone sharp and clipped. "Are you going to behave and let me search your apartment without trying any clever bullshit?" ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany couldn't quite understand why Mark looked so angry. She could understand his frustration to some degree, she was his son's ex, after all. But did it matter that she'd fucked someone else? Or was it simply the fact that she'd managed to fuck a criminal of some kind. Because she'd admit that she was starting to regret her decision to spread her legs for him. It wasn't like they were exclusive or even serious yet, but he'd spent a fair amount of hours in her home—eaten her food, slept in her bed, used her shower. "You watch it," she muttered under her breath. Bethany knew better than to start an argument with a police officer, but truly, it was Mark she didn't want to argue with. And the sooner he got a chance to look around—and realize she had nothing to hide—the sooner he'd leave her fucking apartment. But she hadn't expected him to stop her from going to the bathroom. He had given her clear instructions to sit her ass down—which she had every intention of doing, but after she'd emptied her bladder—and she'd done the opposite. She should have expected some kind of objection. Just not this. Mark grabbed her by the wrists before she had a chance to react, forcing her backward until her ass hit the chair. Thank God she was wearing dark jeans or he'd probably see the dark stain between her legs. She'd tried to stop it from leaking out, but he'd forced her legs to move too fast. Sitting down did not really help her case, but she pressed her legs together nonetheless. Trying her best to keep a straight face, she let him finish talking before she opened her own mouth. She knew he wasn't kidding when he threatened to handcuff her—if he did that, she'd definitely be in trouble. She held his gaze, her eyes gleaming with desperation and discomfort. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't interfere, I promise, but I really need to pee first." There, she'd said it. The cat was out of the bag. There was no taking it back now. No hiding it. Not that she'd be able to hide it for much longer anyway, because she had started leaking. If he didn't see the stain, he'd eventually see a puddle on the floor or smell it. "I'll be quick," she added, squirming slightly in the chair. "I'll come right back here. No clever bullshit, I swear. Just please, let me pee first," This was ludicrous. She was begging a police officer to let her use the toilet in her own home. But he couldn't possibly know how desperate she was—how much it hurt. Her bladder was this close to exploding and her bathroom was on the other side of her apartment. She'd be lucky to get there in time even if he let her. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ The change in Bethany's tone caught Mark's attention. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on her. He had trusted her once, but knowing what he knew now, he could no longer quite bring himself to believe her. Mark was worried she'd try to hide or destroy whatever Anthony had left lying around. He wanted the bastard behind bars and the more evidence he had the better. Dragging Bethany to the court along with her boyfriend would teach the little cunt a lesson she would not forget any time soon. If by any chance there was nothing discriminating to be found in the apartment, Mark had just the solution in his pocket. Anthony was a known drug dealer. No one would question Mark if he told them he had found some crack from Bethany's apartment. "Bee, you don't seem to understand your situation." He raised his hand even as she protested, cutting the young woman off. Mark cared little for what he deemed to be her excuses. "Both the judge and I think that you might have been helping a felon. Do you understand what that means? he asked her, reaching to pat the handcuffs clipped to his belt. You are walking on thin ice, girl. You might want to be real careful here." He was itching for an excuse to get his hands on her, his cock slowly hardening in his pants. "Really now." Mark sighed. "Is that why you are wiggling like that?" He scoffed, sounding amused. Mirth gleamed in his eyes, the old cop rather amused with her admission. "Sure. Go on then. We can't have you pee yourself there like a little girl." The tall man stepped to the side, his eyes never leaving her. The distraught young woman could see a wry smile on his lips, her tormentor appearing to enjoy himself at her expense. Still, it seemed that the callous cop had some mercy for her despite the circumstances of their reunion. "You can use the bathroom," he murmured, sounding annoyed as he beckoned Bethany to move. "But you'll keep the door open. Understood?" She could hear suspicion in his tone, Mark frowning softly. He had seen more than his fair share of suspects trying to get rid of evidence. "I need to be sure you aren't flushing down anything that I might need later." The tall cop smirked, making his way to the bathroom. He pulled the door open, resting his hand on the door handle. Mark turned to look at Bethany, standing by the open door. He had made sure that he could see the toilet seat from where he stood. Mark wasn't going to allow the young woman any chances to escape his eyes. ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "Helping him!?" she blurted, obviously offended by his accusations. "For fucks sake, Mark. You know I would never do that." Who in their right mind would help a criminal? Last time she checked, it wasn't a felony to sleep with one, but if she'd known, she would have stayed far away from Anthony Hendrix. At least they weren't official—she had Tony to thank for that. What kind of trouble would she'd been in if they were officially girlfriend and boyfriend. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that he'd said he wasn't ready to commit. But Mark couldn't know how many times she'd tried to convince Tony to be her boyfriend, to settle down. She'd even asked him if he wanted to move in. Thankfully, he hadn't been ready for that kind of relationship. But what truly hurt her feelings was that Mark thought she'd be working with him. Had Mark not gotten to know her at all those past few years? How could he possibly believe that she'd be involved with something illegal? Her eyes darted to the handcuffs he patted at his hip, but before she had the chance to roll her eyes, he addressed her little problem. "Yes," she said through gritted teeth. "That's exactly why I'm wiggling like this. What—did you think I was doing it for fun? That I was practicing some kind of dance move maybe?" This time she did roll her eyes. But as soon as he gave her permission to go, she stood up—leaking a little as she did. She could feel her panties getting wet. Her pants too. Bethany would not pee herself like some little girl. Especially not in front of him. But she'd only made it three steps when his words made her stop dead in her tracks. With wide eyes, she turned to face him again. More pee leaked out now that she stood still. "You can't be serious," she said dryly. "Forget it. I'm not peeing with the door open." Bethany had expected him to start his search, so she didn't really think twice about him walking past her until he stopped outside the bathroom. With small steps she made her way towards the door he was holding open for her—if she didn't, there was a risk of her peeing all over the floor. Every step hurt, and despite her efforts, it probably showed. Grateful for her dark jeans, she stopped in front of him, placing her hand over his. There was no way he was standing in the doorway while she peed. Pressing her legs together as hard as she could, she glared at him. She couldn't stop the leaking anymore—it was only a matter of time before it turned into a constant stream. "Let go," she told him, squeezing his hand on the handle. "The only thing I'll flush is toilet paper." He really needed to let go of that handle soon, or she wouldn't have time to pull her pants down before reaching the toilet seat.​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "Do I now?" Mark huffed, unconvinced. As far as he was concerned, Bethany acted like any other suspect. She seemed to be hellbent on convincing him that she had done nothing wrong. That she had nothing to hide. "That's not what your boyfriend said." She could hear the amusement in his voice. "I knew you once, Bee. I'm not sure I know you anymore. You keep strange company these days." He truly hated Anthony with all the passion. The sleazy fucker had been trouble ever since the child protective services had gotten a hold of him. He had grown up wrong. Mark was utterly convinced that the hardened criminal would be better dead. "Or maybe your Tony just threw you under the bus," Mark suggested with a faint sneer on his lips. He would not have brought crack with him had he been certain Bethany was actually involved. She didn't need to know that, however. He wanted the young woman terrified and to make sure she wouldn't get herself involved with people like Anthony ever again. Mark told himself he was doing all this to protect her. "Here I thought I had caught you red-handed." Mark looked at the young woman, his expression unflinching. He used to joke he should arrest Bethany for being such a sweetie. Back then, everyone had laughed. Back then, everything had been different. "People with something to hide tend to get nervous, Bee. Happens pretty damn often." The implication of his words was evident, his voice somber. He offered her no mercy. Mark truly seemed to believe that she had colluded with or at least assisted a drug dealer. "Do you have something to hide, girl?" he asked her once more, his voice still mellow as ever. Mark was asking the questions and he expected Bethany to answer. The tall man huffed as Bethany insisted to be allowed to close the bathroom door. "No." With his eyes on the young woman, Mark could not see how she was slowly losing the control of her bladder. "Unlucky for you. This is a standard procedure." In reality, there was no such thing. Each and every detective had their own way of making sure that the suspects didn't get in the way of the search. Mark preferred to have the people lean against a wall in the room he was going through. He was making an exception with Bethany. He wanted the young woman to remember this moment for the rest of her life. "You keep the door open so I can see what you are doing, or then you are going to hold it like the big girl you are." She could tell he had trouble believing just how desperate she was, his voice dripping with annoyance. She was getting on his nerves. "Do you understand?" ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ For a moment, she wondered if he was stalling on purpose. Did he know how badly she needed to pee? He couldn't possibly see her wet panties or her stained pants, but she was certain it had gone through her jeans at this point. Squeezing her legs together, she tried to pry his fingers from the handle. "Tony wouldn't do that," she said through gritted teeth. She could believe he was a criminal—at least a former one—but why would he throw her under the bus? She'd been nothing but kind to him. Hell, she wanted a relationship with him. Although, not so much anymore. If what Mark was telling her was true, she'd better cut him out of her life. Bethany let out a low, frustrated groan. "For fucks sake, Mark." She glared at him, her eyes glowing with what could be mistaken as hatred but it was truly just desperation and despair. She wasn't nervous about him finding something in her apartment—he wouldn't—she was nervous that she would wet herself in front of him like a little girl who had no control over her bladder. Bethany was twenty-seven; she should be able to control it. "I'm not hiding anything from you. I just really need to pee—please." More pee leaked out of her and it was only a matter of time before the entire dam cracked. She held his gaze, her eyes blank with unshed tears. "Mark," she pressed out through gritted teeth. A part of her wanted to admit it. Admit how close she was to wetting herself. But if she did, she'd only prove that she wasn't the big girl she was supposed to be. She understood his words perfectly, and if her bladder hadn't been on the verge of exploding, she could probably have waited at least half an hour if not more—but she was beyond her breaking point. It was only a matter of time. Bethany grimaced, no longer able to hide the discomfort and her struggles. "Please," she repeated, her voice broken and desperate. Her fingers continued trying to remove his fingers from the handle. "At least let me pee in peace." If he insisted on keeping the door open, he could at least step away from the opening. "You can check my bedroom, living room—I don't care, just let me pee." She squirmed where she stood, grinding her legs together as she desperately tried to prevent the pee from flowing. A low whimper escaped her lips and she clenched her jaw. This was becoming unbearable. He gave her no choice but to surrender. "I can't. . . hold it. . . much longer," she admitted, her face turning red with embarrassment as she tried to conceal her discomfort. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Mark, for his part, was focused on fucking Bethany up and making sure she understood her situation. He wouldn't have budged even if he had known just how desperate she was. He cared little for her distress. As far as he could tell, she was just trying to be clever. "Tony would do that and worse," Mark huffed, amused. The old cop could not fathom how the scoundrel managed to wrap women around his fingers. "I have all the stories. There's a bunch of women like you. Women who found him charming. Women who thought they could trust him. Some of those women are now serving time." Rolling his eyes, Mark sighed. "You know, you think you know him, but." He shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished, thinking Bethany could figure out what he meant. She was a smart girl after all. "Fuck you do," she could hear him huff in response. He could tell what she was trying to do. She was trying to fuck with him. Expecting him to show her mercy just because she asked nicely and shed some tears. "You're a big girl, aren't you? You can hold it." He was certain it wouldn't take that long to rummage through her small apartment. "And I don't really trust you. Not anymore. So if you really need to pee, you can fucking well keep the door open." It seemed as if he could not understand why she couldn't simply piss with him watching her. It wasn't as if he could see anything if she kept her legs together. What he asked of her should not have been a problem, considering the trouble she was in. "I don't think you understand your position, Bee. I have a fucking warrant for your apartment. Did you forget that?" The old man sneered, his voice tense. His patience was wearing thin. "No, you stop whining like a little bitch." He had had enough of her excuses. He had had enough of her measly lies. Grunting, Mark grasped her neck, pushing Bethany against the wall. There was precious little she could do to stop him, Mark being both taller and stronger than the timid young woman. "Listen." She could see a storm brewing in his eyes. "And listen good, Bee." Tightening his hold on her, he stepped closer, Bethany able to smell his aftershave. The same aftershave that Nathan had used. "I am not going to let you fuck with me, girl," Mark snarled, his expression grim. He was pissed. Mark had had enough. "You're either going to drop your pants and pee so I can see, or you're going to walk back to the chair and sit tight." He waited a moment, tilting his head to the side before spelling out his next words. "Do you understand?" ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Maybe she didn't know Tony as well as she thought. Bethany knew there was more to him than met the eye, but she thought it was a secret bank account or a penthouse he hadn't taken her to yet. Now, she understood that it was something far worse. Something darker. He was a criminal, or a former one. She couldn't be one hundred percent certain. Mark could be lying, but why would he? He must have been disappointed when she and his son broke up, but he had absolutely no reason to be—that wasn't her fault no matter what Nate had told him. "You've proved your point," she gritted out. So what if Tony's former girlfriends were in jail? That didn't mean she would end up there. He should know that. Bethany would never get involved in anything illegal—not knowingly at least. But now she was starting to wonder if she somehow had gotten involved with something. But what? What exactly was Mark looking for? It had to be something serious if he thought she would flush something down the toilet. "Mark," she said dryly, desperately. "I'm serious." If only he knew how serious she was. Did he think she just needed to pee, like when you excused yourself from the dinner table? No. Bethany was way past that point—had been for quite some time now. The problem wasn't the door being open or even the warrant, it was him watching her pee. "I can't—" She cried out when he grabbed her by the neck and pushed her back against the wall. For a brief moment, she lost control over her bladder. Her eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as she could feel the pee leaking out of her. She pressed her legs together, clenching her core so hard it hurt. Her jeans were probably soaked between her legs now. He was so fucking close she could smell him, and she hated that he smelled like Nathan. It reminded her of that asshole. Not that Mark was being any less of an asshole right now. "I'm not fucking with you!" she exclaimed, her hands coming up to wrap around his forearm. She needed to get to the toilet now. But he didn't let go and she blinked up at him with tears forming behind her eyelids. She refused to wet herself in front of him. So, she gave in. It was the only thing she could do at this point. What would be more embarrassing—wetting herself where she stood or letting him watch her pee on the toilet? "Yes." Bethany understood him perfectly. She tried to conceal another grimace while her fingers clawed at his arm. He had won. "Leave the fucking door open, just let me go." ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "You are serious? Really now?" Mark growled softly, keeping Bethany pinned against the wall, smiling as she squirmed. "Did you understand a word of what I said?" Stepping closer, he tightened his hold on the young woman, caring little for her meager efforts to pry herself free. She had played with fire and was going to get burnt for it. "You are in trouble, Bee." The old detective was having a hard time understanding why or how the young woman could not understand her plight. He had shown her the warrant. Of course, Mark was utterly oblivious of just how badly Bethany needed to relieve herself. How badly she was hurting. "You'd better get your act together. Right now." Whatever she said was utterly lost to him. Fed up with her protests, Mark only wanted the young woman to yield to him. He knew he wanted to rattle the young woman good. Make her question the choices she had made and put some fear in her heart. Licking his lips, Mark pushed his hand between Bethany's legs, his fingers pressing hard against the cloth of her jeans. He had ached to touch Bethany ever since he had seen her at the beach back when she had been still with Nathan. She was just his type. Whatever thoughts he might had on his mind evaporated as he felt just how damp and warm her pants were. "Fuck," Mark grunted, sneering with disgust. "Did you piss yourself?" Easing his hold on Bethany's neck, he kept her still pinned against the wall, pulling his other hand back. "What are you? A little girl?" She could hear the distain in his voice. "You little cunt." He pressed the hand that had been between Bethany's legs on her face, some of the scent of her pee lingering on his skin. "Have you no shame?" Mark smirked, tilting his head to the side. "Let you go?" She had given him an idea. "I don't think so, Bee." While he had had every intention of allowing the young woman to actually pee, seeing her struggle had left him truly and well aroused. He wanted more. He wanted to fuck her up, knowing well that she could do little to stop him. "I think I like you where you are." Instead of releasing Bethany, he placed his free hand to her belly, pressing hard. The sadistic old man wanted to hurt her. "Are you sure you want to make a mess there, Bee?" He taunted her, eager to see if she'd be foolish enough to fight back. Mark was curious to see if she'd lose the control of her bladder for good. ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany was beyond frustrated at this point. She was fucking desperate—had been for a while, actually. "I understand, okay!?" she yelled to his face, obviously affected by whatever she was dealing with behind the scenes. Her bladder was this close to bursting and if he didn't let her go within the next few seconds, she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold it much longer. So much had already stained her pants. "But you don't understand," she said through gritted teeth, holding back another grimace. "I really—" Whatever she was about to say got cut off when he pressed his hand between her legs. Now, if her jeans hadn't been wet, it might have been different, but there was no way he couldn't feel it. Her face turned red with embarrassment and she squirmed under his touch, pulling at his arm. He had to let go, or he would soon feel the warmth of more piss leaking out of her. This was what she had tried to avoid. Bethany was no child, she wasn't supposed to pee herself. She could lie and say no, but his hand was already between her legs, and the evidence was undeniable. "I tried to tell you!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with shame. "I told you I had to—stop it!" she snapped, tilting her head to the side when he pressed his damp hand against her face. She winced at the smell of her own piss. "Mark, please." This time her voice was weak. When he changed his mind about letting her go, she struggled against his hold—he had to let her go. Now. Squirming against his weight, she kept her legs pressed together but failed to prevent the pee from leaking. "I can't—" A painful cry escaped her lips when he pressed his hand against her lower stomach. That was a pain she couldn't remember experiencing before. The temperature between her legs increased. Her body writhed in pain and despair. "Mark, stop," she whimpered, her fingers digging into his forearm in an attempt to make him stop. Wincing, she tried not to pee, but her bladder was so goddamn full and he was making it spill over. At this point, she was on the verge of crying, and it wasn't because of the pain. The last thing she wanted was to make a mess in front of him. Clenching her teeth, she gritted out, "I can't hold it anymore." And that was the truth. Seconds later, more pee leaked out. And this time she had a hard time making it stop. She thrashed against him while trying to stop the stream from staining her pants, but it was already getting warm and soaked. "Let me go!" she cried, her eyes glistening with tears. She didn't want this. "Please!" ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ "Do you?" Mark challenged Bethany, anger flickering in his eyes as he held her against the wall. "Do you really understand?" The old cop pressed, angry. He had had enough of her complaints and excuses. Despite his anger, Mark was enjoying himself. Her soft, mewling protests left him feeling warm inside. "Please what?" The question was perfunctory. It wasn't as if he didn't now understand her plight. The poor girl was leaking. Mark smiled, feeling his hunger stir. Seeing Bethany vulnerable made him want her so bad. "Tell me, Bee?" he beckoned her, growling softly. "You can't what?" Bethany could hear Mark mock her. She could tell that he was hurting her on purpose, his hand pressed firmly against her belly. "I thought you were a big girl," he scoffed, his tone almost playful. "I thought you could do everything." The young woman had been so very confident only moments ago. She had been so very sure she could do better than Nathan. It felt so good to see her falter and yield. The old cop was having fun on her expense, a sadistic smile dangling on his lips. Her misery made him feel so very alive. Mark could not help himself. He wanted more, sohe did not stop even when she begged him to, Bethany's words falling on deaf ears. He could tell she was in pain, his cock rock hard in his pants. The young woman had no real chance prying herself free, her assailant barely noticing her fingers on his arm. She would remain pinned against the wall until Mark allowed her to move. "Fuck," Mark grunted as Bethany pressed her legs together, the poor girl losing the control of her bladder right before his eyes. "Look at yourself, cunt. Pissing yourself like a little girl." She could tell he was enjoying himself, his voice brimming with barely contained mirth. "It's your fault, Bee. You ought to have listened to me." Mark shook his head, holding Bethany tight. He leaned his weight against Bethany, pressing his lips to her ear. His breath was warm against her skin, the scent of his aftershave washing over her. "Go on now. Let it all out. Show me." She could hear the shift in his tone, Mark demanding the distraught young woman to obey him, forcing her to wet herself. He enjoyed every second of her humiliation. "Do you need help?" Mark half-whispered, easing his hand between her legs once more, caring little of the mess she had made. "You naughty little bitch." He would wait for Bethany to stop peeing before suddenly tugging her jeans open. "Don't you fucking dare to move." A moment later the young woman could feel his long fingers pressing against her drenched panties. It seemed that he was not done with her. ​

 

[reverie.]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Bethany wanted to be a big girl, but her mind was no match for her leaking bladder. She squirmed against him, both in pain and humiliation. "Please don't do this," she pleaded through gritted teeth, her face portraying a neverending series of grimaces. Hand or no hand pressing against her belly, she could not stop the pee from leaking. And he refused to let her go. She was pinned against the wall, his weight holding her in place. At this point, she didn't even know if she would make it to the toilet, should he decide to release her. Tears started forming behind her eyes as she repeated the words, "I'm not. . I'm not!" She was not pissing herself—not yet. "Please!" He had proved his point. The humiliation he had put her through—was putting her through—was not something she would recover from anytime soon. Once again she thrashed against him, her small frame trying to move his massive one. It was fucking impossible. She might as well be trying to move a marble statue. "No, let me go!" she yelled, not caring about his ear being so close to her mouth. She would not let it all go. She would not wet herself for him. "No, stop! Mark, stop!" she pleaded frantically, trying to wriggle her hips to prevent his hand from reaching its destination. But the only thing that did was make sure more pee leaked out of her. There was no stopping the stream now. The pee flowed freely through her panties, her pants, and onto his hand. Her face was red with shame, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. "I hate you," she muttered, her voice completely broken. "I fucking hate you." She'd stopped fighting him, her body still against his. Bethany emptied her bladder, feeling the relief wash over her. She'd never thought peeing herself would feel this good, but the relief she felt at that moment couldn't compare to anything else. She thought her warm and wet pants were the end of this nightmare—but she was wrong. When Mark ripped her jeans open, renewed panic surged through her. "What are you doing!?" She tried to push his hands away. "Please, Mark, don't touch me," she begged, her body going limb against the wall. She wanted to get clean. And she wanted to be alone. "You've done enough." There were tears in her eyes now, because for some reason, what he was doing now—or attempting to do—was so much worse than her wetting herself in front of him. ​

 

[Koura]

⭑ * • ⊱ •̩̩͙ • • ✩ • • •̩̩͙ ⊰ • * ⭑  ​ Mark was beyond incensed, fury ringing in his voice. "I don't think you understand, Bee." The tall man pulled Bethany closer, only to roughly slam her back against the wall. He did not let her go. Mark had the young woman where he wanted her. Now it was merely a matter of teaching her a lesson she would and could not forget. "You say things, but I don't know if I can trust you." Bethany could see how little her words affected the callous man, Mark hellbent on making her terrified. "You move when I let you. Not before." There was no doubt or hesitation in his voice. "I don't give a fuck about what you think of me, Bee," Mark scoffed in response. "Look at yourself. How fucking pitiful you are." The tall man shook his head gently, exhaling slowly as he watched the young woman make a mess in her jeans. He could not deny just how badly her desperation turned him on. He could not deny that he wanted more of her. "Pissing yourself like that. You could have been a good girl. But no, you just had to fuck with me." He looked at her with a sardonic smile on his lips. How do you think that worked for you, Bee?" He did not expect Bethany to answer his question. "What am I doing?" He cut Bethany off. "I am teaching you a lesson, bitch. That's what I am doing." His fingers remained pressed against her wet panties, Mark taking his sweet time rubbing her pussy just to taunt and torment her. "And you are going to be a good girl." Dropping his hand from her neck, he reached into his jacket, pulling out his revolver. "And fucking listen." Huffing softly, he pressed the gun against her belly, slowly dragging it up and under her chin. She could feel the cold metal against her skin. "I want you to behave." Mark pushed the barrel of the gun up, forcing Bethany to tilt her head. "Do you understand?" Mark knew he could get away with what he was doing. He could always insist that the young woman had resisted him. He could tell the judge that she had tried to grab his arm. No jury would judge him for trying to defend himself against a drug addict. Besides, he was friends with every judge of the district. "You will cut all ties with Anthony. You'll block his number. You'll have your lock changed." Mark growled, slowly rubbing Bathany's pussy while telling her what he expected of her. "Do you hear me?" Allowing her no time to answer, he pushed the cloth of her panties to the side, his long fingers pushing between her folds as he sought out her clit. "And if he dares to reach out to you, you'll let me know." He kept masturbating the young woman against her will while chiding her, the tall man seeming to know just how to force her body to react. "You won't let that fucker come here ever again." Grunting, he forced one of his fingers into her, caring little for her discomfort. "And you won't let him touch you ever again." ​