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A beautiful, warm spring weekend, the kids were at Grandma's, and the two of them were set free from conventionality to enjoy their own private brand of paradise. She walked around in a few skimpy scraps of leather. He wore even less. They didn't have a dungeon, but they had a private enclosed courtyard. They'd had a paddling session, a strap-on session. Enjoying one another to the fullest.
He liked having to ask her permission to relieve himself. Usually she granted it right away, although often after asking him to be more specific as to what he'd be doing. That Saturday afternoon though, she told him a flat no. His bladder pressure went unrelieved. Making him smile and wince at the same time, she additionally told him to go drink three full glasses of water. She grinned at his reaction, told him to take his time drinking it, if he liked, and then come back when he was done.
He'd already had two glasses, not to mention three cups of coffee. He gulped down two glasses, then carried the third, full to the brim, out to her to drink in front of her. Showing off for her. She enjoyed the little display of machismo. It made humiliating him more fun, to see him proud of himself for his obedience and even going the extra ounce. Watching him shift foot to foot as he struggled to hold all the fluid was fun too. About a third of the glass to go. She stopped him with a raised hand, then had him tilt his head back. Two of her fingers pinched his nose closed, then she poured the last of the water into his open mouth. He choked, struggled to swallow. She caressed his throat. He looked at her longingly, puppy-dog-eyed. She rubbed her body against his, teasing. His arms encircled her. She squeezed him gently, kissing his shoulders and chest. Oh, how she loved him, so much. This would be fun, a fantasy of weeks planning as they arranged to get a weekend all to themselves.
She took his hand and led him to the courtyard. He lay down and she fixed each wrist and ankle in a leather cuff, then staked them to the four corners. Spreadeagled on his back he looked up at her as she removed her bits of leather, looked up at the sky. What a beautiful, free feeling, to be naked with the sky above her. Then for an hour she pleasured herself with his body. The full bladder kept him from ejaculation no matter how intense his near-climaxes were, until he felt raw and chafed and exhausted. And still had to go, worse than ever.
Finally she sighed, rose, smiled brightly, and stood near his left cuffed ankle. Set up their little home video camera on its tripod, focused right at his crotch. And gave him, at long last, permission to piss. The arc of it rose high, watering the grass at his shoulder, then trailing a dribble of urine across his body. The sense of release floated him nearly right out of his body. Release both physical and psychic, culminating in an intense unaided orgasm as the flow finally ceased. Semen mixed with urine on his belly, the slight breeze cooling it as it evaporated slowly. She waited a bit, taking the time to remove the camera safely to its place indoors before returning with the garden hose.
He strained against the staked cuffs, unable to avoid the icy stream of water as she sluiced him clean. The cold nearly burned against his skin, shriveling his balls painfully tight. She played the water across his face, throat, chest, crotch again, cleaning him thoroughly. Then she lay down atop him, warming his cold body, holding him close, her dear beloved. He felt the precious warmth of her and longed to wrap his arms around her. As if reading his mind, she freed his hands, and he held her to his heart, feeling closer than ever to her, his life's mate, his heart and soul.
She let him up, and he slipped on the bathrobe she'd brought him, went inside and made them both hot chocolate. They snuggled and sipped the sweet warm drink as they watched the video.