A private wet playground

For a couple of days He had been looking... pleased with himself... one would almost say smug. It is never a good look. Well not for one small slave at any rate. A delivery late in the afternoon provided some answers in the form of a neat package. It also explains our visiting a camping store the next day looking for an air pump...

Oh look you can get a mains powered one He said happily

Yes and you can get a foot operated one for half the price

So when I pull you out of bed to entertain me, you will be happy to stand there pumping away while you are busting to pee?

Umm... how very thoughtful of you Master. The mains powered one sounds like a much better idea... beams brightly while secretly mourning morning mouse

The implement:

This playground from MEO is designed for people who like messy, wet fun and games. It is perfect for the floor, on top of the bed (it measures 2X1.4 m (6' 7"X4' 7")), in a small area or anywhere else you can think of. It is 10cm (4") deep... enough to contain any mess. There are even convenient handles to carry it with or tie someone to. It can be used for massages, splodging, enema play, watersports... hell you could probably use it for jelly wrestling if you were that way inclined J

The pros:

• Made of tough vinyl
• Slip resistant
• Oil resistant
• Easily inflated with an air pump
• Easy to clean
• Folds up into its own mesh bag for easy storage
• Ideal for smaller spaces 

The cons:

• It can be a little awkward to move around, though you can let out some of the air which makes it form a shape similar to a bag, making it easier to get through a door. 

We decided that the easiest thing to do was to use a pet mat to absorb all the liquids, toss it in the shower, clean it off and then deflate it before throwing it over the pool fence to dry... which in our climate took about 15 minutes due to the black colour.

Interlude

We were curled up on the couch finally catching up with 'Falling Skies'. It was also getting late and all one wanted to do was hop in the shower and get clean after pottering around doing housework. Not wanting to miss anything the plan was to nip out and grab the washing off the line and have a shower in between episodes.

But this is the rabbit hole... nothing goes quite to plan

As one moved towards the shower He was one pace behind. In fact as one hopped in the shower the door was opened and there He was.

Pee for me He said

Now some girls can pee standing up... one small slave is not one of those girls. In fact there is very little directional aim in spite of being made to practise over the years... indoors and out. For a change though one did manage to get a visually pleasing arch of light golden pee for Him.

It was so visually appealing that one got to kneel in it while He came all over one's tits with gobs of hot, sticky cum afterwards.

And they say no good deed goes unpunished J

Shower scene

Standing in the shower legs spread apart, one peed into His outstretched cupped hand, while being gently held in place by his teeth in one's neck. As one finished He slid his fingers up into the moist crevices of the cunt and nipped the neck a little harder, before spinning one around up against the cool tiles. Spreading the arse cheeks out of the way He forced up inside. Wrapping an arm over the left shoulder, He grasped the right nipple in his fingers and squeezed it in a vice like grip. It left one immobilised; pinned between Him and the wall while he fucked one's arse.

Hard enough for you?

Yes Master.

He came and edged one out from under the water and out of the shower.

Deposited outside of the shower one could feel a steady twinge in the nipple and where He had been in one's arse... 

While the cunt pulsed with a rhythm of its own.

Relief

The end of the day

Shot with His phone... there is no privacy. 

Cool sands, warm water

The plan;

Walkies in the soft sand at the beach... it's supposed to be good for rehabilitation of a sprained ankle. Mainly because you can't limp and the foot is all over the place as you try and maintain balance.

The execution:

He parks meters from the stairs, which one can manage due to the nifty inclusion of a handrail, and guides one to the soft slope to the beach. Which with the amount of mobility one has to negotiate such a drop, could have been the Cliffs of Dover. So one gets to walk to the stairs... not so great for ankles for the record L

The outcome;

Negotiating soft sand is great for making the foot work... and it is a bit of rehab designed by a sadist who has never had a sprained ankle. Not to mention one actually has to touch soft sand with bare feet... it gets between your toes and has to be up there with splodging as a sensation... eww. So after struggling along for a few meters and back, at a slow crawl that left one as puffed as a marathon runner, we got back in the car and drove to breakfast.

From there on in the day took on its usual looking glass quality... do stop now if you are squeamish.

We are parked on chairs, while the ankle swelled up to an impressive size as a way of thank you for the exercise, and He turns and says, with that particular gleam in his eyes, when we get home we can have a quick shower and... Quick as a flash one leaped in and hazarded start tidying up before the guests arrive tomorrow? How bad can it be he asked it was only done last week? Blinking in disbelief one asked have you looked? Well no more than normal He replied (which is code for not at all). Rolling the eyes one started making a quick list and calculating the physical ability, in an endeavour to make a list of the essentials.

Taking one look at the face He says and this is why I'm in charge; the ability to prioritise and put the important things first. Sty was the first word that blurted out of one's mouth. Yes, but you would be too blissed out to care He retorted. That or blindfolded so you couldn't see. Either way would work He finished up, looking smug.

It was after the last load of dishes were done, 'cos rather like the sandwich fairy, the dish fairy hadn't mysteriously presented itself over the last couple of days either, one plopped down to do a manicure. It was at the critical stage when the bladder insisted it was in charge. Now one of the great joys of having an owner who like water sports is that you can say would you mind giving one a hand? Following one into the bathroom He started to divest himself of his clothes, which made one squeak in protest. All He had to do was pull down one's pants and pat things dry afterwards.

Really you need to stop reading here...

Of course it wasn't that simple with Him in charge. Oh no. He decided it might be fun to see if he could get the notorious lack of aim to improve. You know when people are yammering on about slave training one just bets that this isn't the stuff they have in mind. For the record He can get better aim, but he is lousy at the pat down. And one did explain the idea was to pat with the paper... not rub... repeatedly.

For the record though, should any of you find yourself in the position of needing this kind of assistance... it makes you feel like a child; a slightly resentful child. And it doesn't help if someone is playing water cannons with your plumbing. Honestly it is so hard to get good help these days... it's like they try to be difficult... or something...

Out on the tiles

Lying in bed one contemplated a shower verbally. To be honest the contemplation was more along the lines of reluctance to leave the bed vs. the need to get clean. So are you going to pee for me, He asked. Umm... don't think so... well it was more of a question... though in truth His voice didn't go up at the end of the sentence. He gave one the look that indicated that was the wrong answer, and sighing one shuffled out of the nice warm bed reluctantly.

In the bathroom one opened the shower door and reached for the tap. No, was the firm command. But... it's cold and a little warm water... Seeing His face the whining trailed off into a gloomy resignation and one stepped into the shower. The slightly rough floor tiles were icy underfoot and so were the wall tiles... even the glass was cool to touch... and all of it was beaded with water from where He had showered just minutes before. Positioning oneself gingerly so as to not come into contact with any of this one turned to face Him.

Squat a little, I want to see you properly. Now spread your lips, He ordered. Doing as told one concentrated on peeing for Him. Finally it started to gush out, warm and golden, splattering everywhere due to that complete lack of directional aim one is blessed with. Nice, He murmured stroking his hard on. Are you ready, He asked? Nodding one moved closer, knelt and offered up a pair of warm breasts as a target... or a tray. He came with a satisfied grunt and washing his hands left...

Leaving one covered in an assortment of bodily fluids and wondering how to put on a shower cap, clean ones hands and simultaneously not get caught in the initial icy blast of cold water... which the shower does with a great deal of enthusiasm L

Not according to plan

Today a new toy arrived delivered by our local sadist. It is an interesting type of butt plug in that the core is removable, and with the addition of the adaptor it can be turned into an enema nozzle. 

The implement:

A permanent plug;

•          High grade aluminium
•          Approx 40mm x 77mm (1.5 x 3")
•          Three easy clean pieces; plug, removable core and shower connector and available from The Stockroom.

So before one can say wink it is ripped from its plastic, cleaned and attached to the shower. To be honest in all the time we have been together it is the first time one has seen those long sensitive fingers of his perform anything... well... handy. They are usually busily engaged in other matters, but one digresses...

Um do you have any idea what you are doing? No, but how hard can it be... you just shove it in and turn on the tap. All of this is of course punctuated by elaborate pantomime and sound effects. And they say a drama degree is a waste L Err... you do realise that these little shows do not instil confidence of any kind right? In fact rather the opposite. He grinned and said that every minute one prevaricated would be an extra minute of water up one's arse... accompanied by a mimed looking at an imaginary watch.

Scampering to the bathroom we turned on the shower adjusting the temp and working out the flow. Then one was pressed, with warm breasts mashed against the rather cold tiles and legs spread, into the shower. Generous amounts of lube were smeared in one's arse and the nozzle was pushed firmly in place. He carefully turned on the tap and one small slave fell in love. It feels awesome... so warm and gentle with the water bubbling into one's arse at a slow and steady rate. Eventually one had to say stop... it is not an infinite space unfortunately.

Shortly afterwards all warm and clean, the plug was reinserted and the core was screwed in. How was that He asked. Well it is a really good enema... because it is done standing up it only cleans out the lower bowel, and unlike the syringe kind there is no need to contort in unnatural positions to do it. You are left clean and ready for action... without having to spend ages, unlike a full enema.

Now this is where the squeamish in our midst need to stop reading.

Go on shoo

What are you still doing here?

Later curled up on the couch... err the curl is important 'cos you can't actually sit down on the damn thing... just that tiny bit too long for comfort... He turned and said well let's try this out. Are you going to try and cum in it one asked naively. Err no, I am going to piss in it. Oh! Um you think you can create enough of a seal that it isn't going to leak every where? Yep, I recon I can. Men... such optimists when it comes to their equipment.

Think one might get a pet mat... just in case. Where do you want it, and your slave? Oh we might try the bathroom just in case. So off one trotted to put down both the mat and oneself. Removing the core, which leaves you held open by the plugs rather wide neck, He carefully lined himself up and contemplated the idea... of course the bladder played hard to get, but eventually it all came together.

Well it would have... except for one tiny problem. As He started to pee in one's arse, the body decided to interpret the sensation as ticklish. And one small slave started to giggle. It was then that we discovered those stomach muscles involved in laughter are kinda synced up with your arse. The more one giggled, the more one resembled one of those stupid cherub fountains... only reverse ended.

So there we are... a great toy, but the whole peeing in one's arse is going to take some more work. It's strange how this kind of stuff never makes it into BDSM literature. Fantasy vs. reality... and again we find out how different they are. Though for the record, those pee mats hold a lot of fluid J

Retail therapy

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Dinner and a movie

We finally got to see Thor and they didn't do too bad a job of it. Seriously the potential pitfalls were many and they did manage to sidestep most of them... and let's be honest Chris Hemsworth is kinda hot. If nothing else you could sit back and admire... yes that is a good word... all that hard work.

After that we toddled off for dinner where He plied one with way too much wine. Now alcohol has a strange effect on the body and none of it predictable which is one of the reasons why one doesn't drink much at all these days. Sometimes it will make one tipsy, sometimes there is an instant hangover, sometimes it leaves the head a clear as a bell and sometimes it just makes one feel detached. It settled on the latter... well that and peeing like a race horse all night.

Ever the opportunist He hustled one home, after one extra glass, and one was popped back on the table with the bowl so He could enjoy the view. See... told you one would be practising that pose again. This time the body was far more obliging. As one squatted there, pink lips spread open, a steady stream of pale urine gushed forth, splattering the edge of the bowl and the surrounding area. Hopping off the table one noted that pet mats are your friend, that or better aim.

Off you go to the shower He said in that solicitous tone. I'll clean up... which should have been a warning really. In the bathroom, while tucking hair into a shower cap, one reached out to turn on the tap. No need for that He cooed one step behind. Just hop in there and kneel down. As one complied He produced the bowl and poured the contents over one's kneeling form, so that is slid and dripped across breasts and in between thighs. Then He ordered one to masturbate while He splattered hot cum all over one as well.

Later He asked how was that? Well pee feels better when it is warm. And pet mats really are your friend. And one will probably never use the coffee table again... so it will always be clear. See it is all about reshaping your reality...

Thursday

The balancing act

Coming out of the bathroom bearing the bowl, one stood in His study doorway and indicated the patch of tile that allows him a good view when one pees. He looked at it, shook his head and said no I think we will use the coffee table. The bad slave lip curled... having just finished folding laundry the table was covered in neatly folded stuff and the usual electronic paraphernalia... all of which would have to be moved... and none of which was going to get one peeing any sooner. In the wink of an eye it was whipped away... strange how domestic He can become under the right circumstances.

Hopping up onto the table, which is a solid piece of the ex's that He took a fancy to (there is that Scorpio planning in action), one positioned the bowl and carefully knelt over it. No, I think it would look better with you squatting. Adjusting the position one tried again and waited for his cue of satisfaction. He nodded and settled into the couch, masturbating while he watched. Squatting there one waited for the body to comply... and discovered that one couldn't actually pee in that position. Every once in a while one finds a position like that. It means one will be practising again in the near future... it gives Him a better view.

Shifting back to the original position the body complied and produced a stream of light golden pee. It splattered against the side of the bowl making a tinkling sound before pooling on the bottom. When finished one looked at Him for permission to get up. Stay there He said. Standing up, He took the step to where one was, balanced precariously over the bowl, and shoved his dick in one's mouth and came in a quick hot burst down one's throat. It seems that table is the perfect height. Now you can go He said. Leaving one to scramble off the table in a less than graceful manner.

Odds and sods

Going past the office to the bathroom a voice says I like your post. What did you like... the bit about losing the capacity for speech? Yes. You know that was the bit one thought you might find rather disturbing. No, and it is much less messy than gags. Owners... everyone of them a bloody comedian L

As one steps in the shower He appears in the doorway. I want to see you pee and how it is coming on. Um wasn’t planning on peeing... having gone just before when He allowed one to use the facilities while cooking breakfast. Oh that is unfortunate was the reply... in that tone... you know the one. It was enough to produce an unsteady stream that proved one still has no directional aim whatsoever. See that whole peeing while standing is not easy for some of us... in this case made more complicated by the fact that the urethral opening is tucked a little further in the vagina than you see in those pictures. Which is unfortunate in a person owned by someone who likes watersports... and taking pictures of the process.

Later in the bedroom, where one had retreated to cool off after the shower... the aircon was on for Him in readiness for his going to bed... He pounced. Licking one to a quick and unceremonious orgasm, He hoisted one’s legs over his shoulders and forced into an agreeably wet hole up to his balls and proceeded to fuck in long deep strokes. Laying there pinned to the bed one started to go along for the ride. Right up until the pain started to make an incessant incursion into the process. Oww, fuck that hurts forced its way through the lips.

Still sore He enquired solicitously. Yes, and it is not getting any better doing this one grumbled in reply. Oh well He said cheerfully... He had already cum... guess you aren’t getting a second orgasm and with that He hopped off. Leaving one there in the wet spot, sore, aroused and starting to run late for work... again.

Later as one was scampering around tossing clothes into the bedroom so one can get dressed for work, He sings out that He would like a hand job before one goes. It seems that He sleeps better after an orgasm... though why it couldn’t be after the first one rather than the second escapes one completely. Oh right that would be convenient for one small slave. Mutters there is no fair in this relationship at all... er one has mentioned that horny doesn’t always improve the disposition... right?

Red

So after a mediocre dinner and some rather good Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc we wended our way home... RPG night had been cancelled due to illness which is why we were having a spontaneous dinner out... and it was on that return leg one made a critical error. It was a simple thing that countless women have probably done after being plied with wine; one mentioned the desperate need to pee. Out of the corner of the eye one saw a radiating glimmer from Him that did not bode well for one small slave. We crested the hill which the house sits on and kept going... not a good sign.

Pulling up near the beach He led one down the stairs. Strip off He said... it was blowing a gale from the beach... pulling a camera out of his pocket. He amused himself taking happy snaps of the new underwear. We did spend the time in the city on some functional items... updating the bras and knickers being some of it. He has banned the practical bras one favours... things that give a smooth line under a t-shirt and strap you in to give good support while minimising the appearance of them. The trouble with big breasts is, apart from finding tops to fit, you feel like a walking set of tits... people actually talk to them rather than you. Now He thinks that is fine. He also thinks they should wriggle and jiggle a little more when you move, be a bit pointier and look like...well breasts. So the bras were ruthlessly culled in favour of more feminine garments... it is the reason why the credit card is in a foetal position keening and rocking.

When He had finished one hastily redressed... the wind was nippy and one still needed to pee... worse than before if that was possible. If you need to pee you can do it here He said indicating the platform. Reluctantly one pulled off the new knickers and peed on the spot, feeling for all the world like the family pet, while He watched. Very nice He murmured, and as one stepped to the side He came up the stairs and crowed one against the rail and unzipped himself, while forcing one down to suck his cock. When it was coated in saliva one was spun around and roughly pushed up against the rail, while He lifted the skirt to expose ones buttocks. There in the semi dark with the wind whistling around naked skin He proceed to sodomise one roughly, until He came with a groan.

Later, all clean and safe... cough... He repeated the act in the comfort of the bed while making one beg Him for more. An act that has left it sore and less than enthusiastic about further use... in fact even sitting on it makes it twinge. Unfortunately one knows He will probably use it again before going to sleep this afternoon. He will probably enjoy every single yelp of protest as He drives in harder and faster as well.

Safety first

The bridge one has to cross to get to work is closed, and to get round it means bussing and training it to work. Unfortunately as this is the late shift it means one is going to have to be at a not very safe station latish at night, and there is no guarantee that the trains will be still be running. So one did the sensible thing and phoned work to say one wouldn’t be joining them. Sometimes the smart thing is to stay at home... you will notice one said smart not safe, ‘cos as it turned out it wasn’t.

As one has mentioned before our bathroom is miniscule. The toilet is between the glass shower wall and the wall and though snug, it is a more than adequate space as the glass prevents any sense of claustrophobia. So we are watching a TV show and one is dying to pee, but the story was at a good spot so when a break came on one asked to use the bathroom. He said yes, but hurry I need to pee as well. Scampering off with dancing visions of using the facilities, one had no inkling of what was to come.

No sooner had one settled on the seat than He appeared blocking the exit. Move back He said. Um don’t think there is room for both of us one said dubiously, while obligingly spreading ones thighs and scooting back until hitting the cistern. Oh there’s room He said. The tone made one look up from the penis eye view one was enjoying.

At that moment He started to pee; washing one small, unsuspecting slave’s thighs, breasts and cunt with an unrelenting stream of warm urine that splattered over arms and neck. Might one add He was a lousy shot... very little of it went in the hole one had made, other than runoff. He finished, shook himself and washed his hands and obligingly turned on the shower as He left. Leaving one to dab franticly with paper and wish one had just peed in the bowl.

Later back in bed, showered for the second time, as He is getting ready to sleep He says masturbate for me. As one floats higher and higher He growls come for me, but one is too high to come back. Grabbing a breast in a vice like grip He applies more and more pressure until the orgasm if forced out of one in a long, continual keening sound. He hauls one onto his erection as one is still coming, each thrust rubbing along the butt plug and banging against the bruising from the speculum.

The pain trips another small orgasm which makes the muscles contract and causes more pain. And the body is caught in a loop of pain and orgasm until He finally stops, after giving one last thrust for the sheer joy of making one cry out. Crawling off one grabs a sheet, snuggles into pillows and floats off for deep post coital snooze. Definitely beats working J

Permission slips

As one has mentioned in the past we are not particularly ritualistic, but there are rules. One has to ask permission to do a lot of basic things that people take for granted. Some of them are a form of politeness; one can’t just make plans to do things without consulting Him first or run off to see a shop on a whim. Now these things have come about because one is less than thoughtful... historically one has just told Him one is off to do X, Y or Z without it even occurring He might have other ideas. And there might have been the odd time one has left Him chatting to himself because one has seen a spiffy pair of shoes in a window across the aisle, shop or street.  

There is no just orgasming (well there is occasionally) and things like using the bathroom to pee also need permission. Now that last one, though sometimes done because He does like to hear one beg while sounding desperate, is not for the usual reasons of control. It has come about because He likes watersports and as such He likes to watch. While He might make exceptions... say if one is in the middle of making a meal... He prefers one to use a method that has a more unrestricted view.

To this end a glass bowl is used or He makes one use the back yard. A thing one hates particularly when the grass is getting longer. Sometimes He puts down a pet mat and makes one use that. There is nothing like coming home from a drive busting and being made to use a mat like the family pet. It certainly keeps you in your place. It also makes you very grateful for modern conveniences.