January 17, 2005
Finally, he prepares to leave and pay the bill for their meal. Standing up he walks around to the back of her chair, leaning down, tells her to stay seated, that he needs to visit the restroom. He orders her to finish up the iced tea while he's gone.
Leaving the restaurant it's cold outside. She wants to walk quickly to his car but he slows her down, forcing a more leisurely after dinner walk. But she can only be aware of the discomfort of her situation. Back at the car she waits to get in, knowing to sit will help. But he leans her against the car, standing close to her and slides a hand inside her coat, touching her, caressing her breasts. He finds a nipple, squeezes it, while leaning down and biting her neck.
She swallows hard and can feel her muscles clenching deep inside. Small shock wave coursed through her body, her thighs squeezing together.
"Oh no", he says, sliding his hands down between her legs, touching the inside of her heavy thighs, pushing them apart, "a slut never keeps her legs together."
She bites her lower lip
His hand slides back up between her legs, feeling the dampness... the hardened clit.
He rubs against it, causing her to whimper. His warm hands... the cold air... the urgency growing in her.
She just wants to sit down.
He smiles ever so sweetly and asks if there is a problem.
Closing her eyes, she whispers "no".
But he don't let that go. Instead he reaches up and put his hand under her chin raising her head so she must look directly at him.
She visibly shudders.
"Lets try again" he says "is there a problem? Speak the truth to me. Always"
Trying to look away she stammers out "I have to pee... and... and it hurts."
His one word reply. "Good." A smile crosses his lips.
He opens the door and she moves to get in the car, but not before he reaches in, and pushes her legs apart, slapping each thigh to remind her that a slut never keeps her legs together.
He gets into the driver's side and tells her "Don't worry, it's only going to get worse."
She quietly sighs.
He takes the long way back, of course. He makes no effort to avoid any bumps, ruts, and ridges in the road. She tries to keep her mind off the persistent discomfort, wanting to squeeze up her legs together, but each time he merely reaches over and gives her left thigh a smack. A hard smack. She sharply inhales, tightens up every muscle she has to keep control.
Finally arriving at the motel, she moves to get out but he stops her. He gets out and moves to her side of the car and opens the door. Reaching in to her he places his left hand on her right thigh and pulls it to the side, dangling out of the car, while his right hand holds the left thigh where it is, exposing her. "This" He says, "is how a slut gets out". She blushes as someone walks down the sidewalk. Looking up at him, plaintively she speaks "I HAVE to pee... and it hurts!" He grins and gently reminds her that he isn't preventing her from doing so, that she is creating her own discomfort.
She looks down and murmurs, "I just can't."
"Oh well, not my problem then is it?" as he guides her into the room. She wonders if maybe now he will let her use the bathroom, thinking that perhaps it's all been a big tease. Some people are like that she tried to reason to herself. Letting her think there are wicked things they will do regardless of how she feels about it, to let her worry about it, anticipate, only discovering they won't REALLY do it to her.
Those secret hopes were dashed when he tells her to change into the clothes on the bed. It doesn't help that he stands there and stares at her as she first undresses then re-dresses in long pants. "Shoes too." He reminds her. It pains her to bend over to tie her shoes. He tosses her coat to her.
"Come along now", as he opens the door and ushers her back into the cold. It's gotten colder and windier. Outdoors he takes her by the shoulders and explains in that voice one would use to talk to a child that it's been her choice all along. "Its up to you", he reminds her, "to end the discomfort. It's really a very simple thing." He tells her to just stay outside and think about it awhile. Without waiting for an answer he steps back into the room, shutting the door. Her mouth opens in disbelief.
Shivering in the cold she starts to pace up and down the sidewalk, muttering about the fix she got herself in. All because of the word "anything". Over dinner, they sat at the table, the beginning of their first weekend together, and he asked her just what she'd do for him. She smiled, so demurely, seductively, and said, "Anything." He had cocked his head at her and grinned broadly, "REALLY?" She knew right then she was in trouble. What was worse is she knew better then to be so glib. Smiling he said, "Pee your panties." He was going to make her pay big time. And here she was, in her current predicament.
She looked across the parking lot, noticing an all night diner. A restroom. They'd have a restroom. She walked over to the curb and stepped down. Muttering she turned around and made her way to a bench on the sidewalk. She knew if she went over there, she might as well then just go back home. There was that sense of pride that wouldn't let her cheat, or disappoint him. She was stubborn too. She sat and contemplated why it was such a big deal that she couldn't do this. Her gut pained her and she got up to move around again, hoping for some relief from the fullness.