Of course you won't decide for me, but that alone is enough. You're ok with it, like the idea enough even to volunteer to pee on me in a mask in the films. Of course you can't show your face, I understand that, someone might recognize you peeing on me and it could affect your job or your career. But you would still do that for me. I nod, knowing I'm going to do it. I want to.
Then you kiss me and my body presses against you, whimpering with need as your tongue enters my mouth. I hear myself whimper softly with a need I can't contain, and I kiss you back with such passion I can't control it. My hands are on your shoulder and around your back, pulling myself close, my legs open and surely you have to feel the heat of my desire for you.
I feel your hips press forward, the pressure so perfect I feel if you kept going I might cum just like this, having you press against my nakedness, still fully dressed yourself, but I want so much more from you, need it. My fingers are trembling as I reach between us for your zipper.
But then Laura announces the big event from the stage. You pull back and I'm left standing breathless, my hand still trembling having come so close to freeing you from your pants, my eyes blazing as you step back and look at me. My chest is heaving up and down and I can barely think straight so it's you who realizes it's time. You tell me how proud and excited you are and it just stokes me fires worse, but I nod as you drink your beer, thinking maybe you could just do me really quickly, take me right here before I go up, so I'm not a trembling wreck for this, but Laura comes over and checks on me, like my personal shepherd making sure I don't miss my chance.
I want to cry I'm so frustrated and now all I can think of is how I want you to just obliterate me with your cock when this is all over, like the two of us back home, together. I'm shaky as Laura walks me up and she mistakes it for nerves, telling me there's nothing to worry about, it's tough but after awhile you realize there's nothing you can do and just let it happen. Her words make me feel all the worse, my thoughts on chains and toilets and your beautiful cock pissing on me.
Then I'm there, next to two other women, staring at a toilet with a short length of heavy chain coming from the base. Men are already milling about, so interested. The other two strip, until they are naked but for their heels and chokers like me, well, one doesn't even have a choker so I feel sorry for her.
I kneel down as Laura caresses my shoulders lightly, encouragingly, just making me shudder and my nipples swell even worse. Then she takes my ankle and I feel cold metal around it, the sound of metal links clanking and then the sound of a lock snapping shut. Oh God, I realize, now I've done it. I stare at the toilet as the other two are chained in place as well, stare at the toilet I can't escape from now. Having you pee on me will be fine, wonderful in fact, except for the fact that you won't fuck me afterwards, not for a long time. I glance around and I can see the hordes of men lined up wanting to piss on me. My heart is in my throat pounding like war drums and I can taste my fear. Can I handle this? What if I can't? What if I'm begging to get loose and... and if I embarrass you, wearing your choker and trying to pretend I'm as good as these other women, as good as Laura. I stare at the toilet. I'm a fraud, I'm not going to make it.
Then you're at the front of my line, smiling at me and winking. I swallow hard and smile back weakly, but your presence is reassuring, if only for the moment. Laura gives the word. This is it. It's really happening to me. I moan softly and I can hear one of the other women behind me breathing hard.
You pull out your big cock, and I want you to just unchain me and fuck me senseless with it. I'm still aching inside for you and I look up in your eyes. You smile back at me with love and then start pissing on me. I have my head over the toilet, so that you can piss in the toilet but hit my face instead, but you aim all over, like a 3 year old just learning how, soaking my breasts, my shoulders, pissing in my hair and my face. Then you settle in with your heaviest stream, aiming at my mouth. I'm shivering now, taking your piss here in public, and wanting you more than ever before, more than anything in my life. I turn my face upwards over the bowl and open my lips, letting your piss in my mouth. I'm barely aware of the sounds of the men looking on, watching and waiting their turns, but there is a gasp of approval. My mouth fills with your hot piss and then runs down my chin into the bowl. I swallow, then swallow again, grimacing only briefly, then opening my lips for more. I'm so turned on, so turned on from all you'd already done to me before I even reached the stage that I can't take it. One hand drifts between my legs, touching myself as I swallow your piss in front of the men. I can hear my chains clink as my hips move and I keep swallowing, until finally your piss slows, sprays my face again briefly and then stops. I'm left dripping wet, swallowing the last in my mouth, looking up to you with pure lust, my eyes begging you to ignore these rules, to get Laura to unchain me right this second and take me here and now. My fingers are still between my legs and you have to see how bad a shape I'm in, no way I'm going to make it through all those men and their piss. There will be nothing left of me to fuck by the time this is over. Fuck me now, please Heath. But I don't say it not out loud, I don't want to embarrass you, to make you the one whose girl begged out.
You reassure me you'll be back, that you will flush my head in the toilet, and I shudder, still stroking myself, as you mouth that you love me and I moan looking back at you as you turn and walk away.
Suddenly there is nothing left for my attention, but to look at the rest of the line snaking around the stage and down the stairs. Oh God oh no. Heath, where are you? How can I do this without you by my side? But I have to be brave. My hips still moving with a deep desire of their own for you to come back, I pull my glistening fingers from between my thighs and grip the bowl with both arms, hugging it so I can't chicken out and brace myself for the next man, the first man pissing on me without you involved at all.
His cock is smaller than yours, not beautiful at all. I would never let him piss on me normally, but its not my choice anymore. I'm chained to this toilet and have to take it from everyone. His piss starts and he is rude with it, aiming it entirely right in my face, not my chin or breasts, just splattering me with his piss until I'm struggling to breath without getting his spray in my mouth. I only swallow for you, only for you Heath. My hips are still moving, but I can't touch myself now, I need my arms around the toilet, to hold onto it like its all I have left without you here now. And now I would be so much more embarrassed, realizing what I was doing in front of all these men. It was one thing to touch myself while my fiancee peed on me, sexy even, I couldn't' stop myself. But some of these men are disgusting, and none of them are you.
It goes on and on. The film producer steps up at one point. He reminds me I'm going to be a star, but at the moment I'm breathing heavily and feeling bedraggled, my hair hanging limp and wet, plastered over my bare breasts and throbbing swollen nipples. My whole body is glistening with piss and I'm in a puddle of run off that didn't make it in the toilet, some of the men preferring to make a mess on my body and force me to kneel in it while others go exclusively for my face. Martin goes for my face, like he wants something, to make a statement to me. His gaze is intense as he watches me take it. I realize he is important to me now, not like you, but a part of my fate is in his hands. I open my mouth and let him pee in my mouth, not swallowing it -- that is only for you -- but I let it run down my chin, tasting his piss, more bitter than yours, feeling some of it run down my chest while more of it cascades right into the bowl full of piss under my head, the smell growing intense.
He looks satisfied, like he got what he wanted and steps back and another takes his place immediately. I let Martin's piss out of my mouth and into my bowl after he's not looking, and then I close my mouth, but to late to stop the next guy from getting a bit of his piss in there too. I glare at him, but what can I do or say? It was my own fault for having my mouth open, how was he supposed to not piss in it?
Then another. And another. No rest. No break. Piss and more piss. There are moments I want to cry I feel so pathetic and miserable, the smell overwhelming, and still the line goes on and on. My hair is an utter mess and there's no way I look like a star. I'm covered in piss and it hangs from me in damp limp strands and I'm panting as I struggle to take yet another man's piss, feeling like a poor little doggy trembling miserably after getting stuck out in the rain, if the clouds were raining piss.
I search the crowd for you, but you must be at the bar, drinking beer and water and whatever to get ready. I ache inside for you ,wanting you back here with me so bad. My body is going nuts, getting more and more worked up and aching to be fucked the longer this goes on, even as it makes me feel miserable, the sound of the chain, feeling the metal tug on my ankle only enhancing it. Something inside me must be broken, but I don't have time to think what it could be. Another man steps forward and I offer my face to him, his piss hitting me right in the eyelids and splattering up my nose making me could and splutter and choke and end up with his taste in my mouth.
I can't say how long or how many but finally my head is practically hanging in the bowl exhausted. I scarcely hear anyone pissing on the other two women anymore, but my line just goes on and on. I would feel sorry for the other two, except I don't have the strength left to pity anyone but myself, and really not even that. I just accept it like it is a force of nature now, just the way it is. Men are pissing on the back of my head as much as my face as my head hangs low. Some of them demand I look up, not pissing on me until I do. Finally when I don't know how much more I can take, there is another voice demanding I look up. I'm too weary, I can't, but then my heart soars. It's you.
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