Blogging A -Z Challenge = U.

Blogging A – Z Challenge – U.

U = Urine.

“I’m sick and tired with your brattiness today, you’re acting like a child. You are not a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Now behave.” Master shouted at me.

I stamped the floor, pouted and crossed my arms defiantly.

“Nooooooo, I really……..” I started, Master smacked my bottom.

“Young lady, I want you to go upstairs, put your white school panties, socks and pumps on, with your white leggings. You can wear your white blouse too. Take these 2 bottles of water and drink it all. Do not dare tip any out.” Master ordered, I looked confused, I didn’t understand why he wanted me to wear those clothes or drink the water but he looked at me so sternly, I scurried upstairs quickly. Getting changed I drank one bottle, still had no clue what was going to happen, but I stomped downstairs again, drinking the other bottle of water as I went.

“Finally you do as you’re told first time. Come with me.” He walked towards the back door, picked a garden chair up and placed it in front of the big patio doors.

“Sit down there.” Master pointed to the chair, so I sat down, looking up at him with confused sad eyes.

“Now I’m going inside and I’m going to watch you through the window because I want to watch you piss yourself.” He explained.

Suddenly I went to get up, protests on the tip of my tongue but Master held my shoulders so I couldn’t get up.

“Stay there, little girl. You will do as you’re told, you will stay there until you’ve pissed yourself then you can stay in your clothes, all wet, smelly and stained like the spoilt little toddler you’ve been acting like.” His voice was so loud and stern, I never spoke.

Sitting down, I sulked,  glaring at him as he went inside, then soon came into the living room, he opened the patio doors, saying he wanted to hear the piss drip onto the patio.

I’m not sure how long I stayed there before I got the sense that my bladder was full. Master was just working on his laptop, not paying me any attention. But I’m sure he may have been aware that I was starting to wiggle about, clenching my legs together tightly, they started to shake, as I held the side of the chair, squeezing everything as tight as possible to prevent my bladder from releasing it’s load of urine. Master has used wetting myself as punishment before, or using me as his toilet, him pissing over me, over my face or mouth. But this was something new.

Master walked into the kitchen where he could still see me, turning the tap on full, he smirked at me. Then getting more water out of the fridge, he passed me another 2 bottles. Then went to turn the tap off.

Suddenly, I felt a tiny release from my bladder, my lip quivered and my eyes filled with tears, I knew I couldn’t hold it any longer.

“Drink the water Daylia.” Master ordered, as I bounced up and down, I opened a bottle and drank a quarter of it.

Then the flow suddenly started, hot urine began to spread into my white clothes, filling my leggings before it dripped through the material, onto the floor. Master started to watch me intently.

“Stand up.” He ordered, as the flow hadn’t stopped, standing up, it flowed down my legs, filling my pumps before he told me to sit down again. The hot urine soon became cold, as the wet clothes clung to me, I began to smell it and noticed my clothes stained a little yellow, I just wanted to get out of them.

“Drink the rest of those bottles then you may come in.” I was told, Master had gone back to working on his laptop.

I quickly drunk the remaining first bottle, I wanted to complain that I couldn’t drink more, but I daren’t. So after a minute I started to drink the second one. By the time I drank it, my clothes were drying out, all stained yellow with a horrible wee smell.

“Come here Daylia.” Master called to me from his seat, certain I was going to be allowed to get a shower and change. I walked in, standing on a puppy pad and faced him.

He had placed a puppy pad on the floor in front of him, and told me to sit on it.

“Daylia you’ve been a very very naughty little girl, you’ve thrown 3 temper tantrums this morning, even after a spanking, and now you’ve wet your panties. You will stay in those dirty, smelly clothes like a little toddler may do, before a grownup realises she’s had an accident. Then they are cleaned up and put fresh clothes on, because a toddler is learning how to toilet train, learning how to behave. You’ve had this training already, you know right from wrong and how to behave yet today you didn’t care. So you can stay in those clothes and every time you need to empty your bladder, you will ask me if you may release it, and go outside, on your chair and piss there. You may only sit on your puppy pad, on the floor. You may only do some colouring or read, your back will face the television Understand ?” He asked.

Looking at the floor, I said “Yes Master.”

For the next 4 hours, Master kept handing me water to drink, I asked 8 times to release my bladder, I’d never drunk so much, each time my clothes became more stained and stank. I was allowed to take my pumps and socks off before coming inside, so I didn’t squelch wee out of them into the carpet, but each time I went outside I had to put them back on. Standing up halfway through the flow then sitting down again. I felt so dirty, humiliated and extremely degraded. This was no fun.

Finally at 5pm, I was told to get the hosepipe and wash the patio down, Master handed me some antibacterial liquid to pour over the patio and chair and the outside brush, to give everywhere a good scrub clean. After that, Master came out to check if I was done. I was just winding the hosepipe up. Handing me a carrier bag he told me to strip, and put the clothes in the bag.

“Here, Master ? Outside ?” I asked, even more mortified.

“Did I say come in and strip ?” His voice stern again. Shaking my head, I started to take all my clothes off, they were soaked, stained and stunk. The bag was so heavy with all my sodden clothes in it, I was going to put the bag in the bin.

“What are you doing ? They can go in the washing machine, use the antibacterial hot but gentle cycle. Check in the booklet what number it is, use plenty of powder and also use the antibacterial laundry powder. When you have done that come upstairs.”

He left me there, naked, holding my bag of pissie clothes. I was careful to dry my feet on the puppy pads, and decided on my own, to throw the pads in the bin before putting the clothes in the washing machine. Locating the number for the wash cycle, I put everything in and turned it on. Heading upstairs I heard the bath running, by the time I was there the bath was half full with lots of bubbles. Going for yet another wee, I climbed in the warm bath and enjoyed feeling clean again, washing the dirty smell off my body.

I’m not sure how long I was in before Master called to me that it was time to get out.

“Can I please stay in longer ?” I called out. Master came in, pulling the plug out, grabbing a towel and stood holding it out. He had a furious expression on his face when I realised maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I was surprised when Master towel dried me, hanging the towel back up he led me to the bedroom.

There were somethings on the bed, but just looked like a pile of clothes so I paid no attention. Master sat on the bed, standing me in front of him, still warm and damp from the bath.

“Daylia you are going to have to behave yourself otherwise I will start treating you like a child more often. And as you didn’t seem to like this punishment, I will do it regularly if I have to. Yet you still questioned me. What other punishment would a little girl get ?” He asked.

I looked on the floor until he lifted my chin up.

“A spanking Master.” I said quietly, tears filling my eyes.

“That’s correct, I’m going to spank your naughty bottom til it’s raw, then you will go to bed early. You may read and continue your colouring but that’s it. I will bring up a light dinner for you, and lights out will be 8pm.”

Master took my arm and pulled me over his knee. He pushed me up onto the bed more, pushed one leg down off his knee and put his other leg over my leg that was over his knee. I was locked in his strong grasp and knew I would not get out of it. Starting with his hand, the sting much more severe as my bum was already warm and still damp. Soon I began crying, trying to reach back when Master grabbed my hand and kept hold of it behind my back.

He always, always included spanking the back of my legs, inner thighs, pussy and all over my big, plump bottom. Then he stopped, rubbing and squeezing instead.

“I hope we don’t have to repeat this soon Daylia, otherwise this will happen often.” He reached behind him and in the corner of my eye I spotted the bath brush.

“No Master,  please, I promise I will be good. Please not that.” I cried into his back as I tried to get away; fruitlessly. As the first swing came crashing down I screamed into the bed, over and over Master swung it hard, from bottom down to leg, lifting each cheek to get access to my sit spot. I cried and cried, kicking my legs, punching the bed. I was sure my bum must be purple by now, knowing how lethal that brush was. But Master continued, telling me he needed to be sure I had learnt my lesson. “I have Master please.”

Stopping I almost prayed a thank you until he lifted me up, placing me back over the bed, then I knew it wasn’t. I saw him reaching something else but I couldn’t see what it was.

“I am giving you 5 strokes for every tantrum you had. How many tantrums did you have Daylia ?” He asked me.

“Three M….M……Master.” I muttered.

“So how many strokes will you get ?” Master asked.

“Ermmmm twelve ?” I’d forgotten how many he said for each tantrum.

“12!!! Daylia, 12!!! That answer earns one more stroke.” He laughed out loud. “Maths was never your strong point. Now listen, 5 strokes for each tantrum, you had 3 tantrums, just so you know, that’s 3 x 5, and 1 extra stroke for that wrong answer. But if you get this wrong, you get another 2 strokes. What’s the correct answer Daylia ?” He tried to stop laughing, honestly her maths was awful, he thought. He heard me giggle as the sum connected in my brain.

“16 Master.” I said, honestly I prayed it was right, I thought it was, but when he asks me to do sums during a spanking, my head just gets muggled.

“Well done Daylia. I think I’m going to have you do Maths exercises every day.  Okay, 16 strokes, now I want you to count them. What will happen if you give the wrong number ?” He asked me, his voice humorous but also intense again.

“I get 2 extra strokes, Master.” I told him, confident but also fearful to what exactly would give me the strokes.

“DO NOT MOVE Daylia.” He ordered.

He picked up the long shoe horn, his new toy from Ikea. A friend recommended this new implement, his little girl hated it. Raising his arm, he whipped the horn across my cheeks, causing me to shriek. I’m not sure how I counted to 16, I remembered I was quick because I wanted it over, this was even worse than the bath brush, might even be as bad as the high impact cane. It was evil, and as usual the strokes were on cheek, sit spot and legs.

But finally the last one came down harder across my sit spot, I grabbed my bottom and cried so hard.

Master sat down on the bed, pulled me up so I was sat on his knee, my bottom hanging between his legs. He hugged me tightly, stroking my back and hair, kissing my forehead lightly.

“All over baby. All done.” Master spoke softly, though he knew there was one more thing he had planned and expected a mini tantrum over it, he was looking forward to see the reaction.

“I’m sorry Master, I promise never to have tantrums again.” It was a promise we both knew I would never keep, secretly Master did enjoy them, and who could blame him. A whole afternoon humiliating and degrading me then spanking me.

“Bend over whilst I rub some cream in.” Master said, as he checked out the beautiful welts and bruises, taking a few photos for me as he knows I like to have them.

“All done, now stand up and turn around.” Master told me, I did as I was told, standing right in front of him.

He picked up this thing, what was that ? Was that a nappy ? My face must have shown my shock, Master had a stern yet devilish grin on his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding, I’m not putting a nappy on.” I said as calmly as I could, trying to back away.

But Master caught on with my plan, turning me around so my back was against him. He already knew which way round it went, lifting one leg, he put it through the hole, lifting the other, he pushed that through. As soon as he let go of my legs I tried kicking it off, which resulted in a few very hard smacks to the front of my legs.

“Naughty little girls who piss themselves need a nappy to sleep in, so you don’t do it again. Now I hope you’re not going to throw a tantrum after you just promised you wouldn’t, that would be a very bad idea.” As Master spoke, he pulled the nappy up, not overly gentle over my raw skin. Hearing me wince a little, Master smiled.

He turned me around and saw my sulky face, he secretly loved it. Master then produced a pink nightie, he put it over my head, hands through little cupped sleeves, as he smoothed it down. The cotton material had little teddy bears over it, but on the front, in shocking pink were the words, Master owns this naughty little girl. There was a picture of a teddy bear from the back view, there pink hair clips in her hair, her bottom was coloured crimson, the bear was bent forward as her arms reached down to pull up her nappy.

I looked down at the words, smiled a little, then turned around to the mirror to see the picture. Then I giggled, “Did you have this made especially ?” I asked.

“Only the best for my little girl, now into bed. Here’s your colouring books and pencil box and your kindle. I will bring you a sandwich, then brush your teeth, lights out at 8pm sharp. I love you baby girl, tantrums an all.”

This is a fictional story but as I wrote it, I thought it was quite exciting too and turned me on a lot. Master does enjoy pee play and I have had to pee outside as punishment, been peed over and drank his pee but it’s never been like to this extreme.

square1

13 thoughts on “Blogging A -Z Challenge = U.

    1. Don’t apologise, I didn’t proof read it like I normally do. Even in my novels I’ve done that occasionally from I to she, I will recheck and tell you when it’s done. But I’d rather be told so thank you xx

      Like

  1. Love your story that might be fiction, but maybe you would like it to be true. Wish my wife would treat me like that. How often are you allowed to drink his pee? I get my pee treat every morning (in about an hour when I wake up Baby Doll).

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, and yes, ive got to be honest, id love it. Degrading humiliation cant beat it but i think i may throw a tantrum over the nappy. most of my fictional stories i write as i would love them.
      I drink Masters pee whenever he tells me. Im not keen on it but i do it coz Master wants me too. Often wen he knows ive not drunk much he will make me. It used to be every morning, drinking first wee of the day, so it was v strong. Yukkie. But he loves it. Xxxxx

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Lol thank you, I just do as he tells me. Master said he tried a bit of his, he felt like he should no what it tasted of before asking me to do it. And at first he did ask, once I did it without complaint he just tells me now. If I know he’s drunk loads, and peed loads so it’s not v strong, I manage without gagging, but when it’s v strong, I really struggle. I love the intimacy though. Xxx

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s