In the beginning it was just a simple rule. Stay put. It made her nervous and excited. It made her happy because it was an easy rule to follow. It made her pout because it was too easy, she wanted to show him that she could do more. She could be a good girl. She could be useful in all sorts of ways.
The place she was asked to stay was his lap, which was sweet. She tried to be still as he typed on his computer. Occasionally he got up, but she was to stay in the living room, waiting for him to return.
He brought her tea and petted her hair and she tried to be patient and unobtrusive while he worked.
The reality crept up after the second hour.
“Sir, can I-”
“Shh,” he said, putting a finger over her lips.
She quieted down. There was a pressure building between her legs. Too much tea. It made her jittery and have to pee. She wasn’t sure how to ask without braking her silence.
He frown and get his eyes, which stopped her again.
“I’m sorry, I just have to-”
“You had one rule. You can’t handle one rule?”
He got up again and brought her a glass of water. Her face grew red. She realized how much more serious this game was. He didn’t seem to notice her revelation, he simply waited for her to drink the glass of water, then he sat back down and patted his lap for her to return to her seat.
She sat back down, every movement increasing her discomfort. Every thought seemed to go back to her full bladder and the fear of what was coming. She let out little whimpers and was scolded.
“But sir,” she whined.
He took out his phone and read the news on it, his knee rocking gently, making her stomach turn and her unease grown.
She closed her legs tight. She bit her lip hard. Every minute the pressure grew and so did her shame.
He put down he phone and took her chin in his hand.
“One more word and you are going to regret it. Do you understand me?” he said, his voice flat and cruel.
She nodded, her vision blurry with tears. The pressure was becoming a sharp pain. She shook and fought the feelings and the tears.
His gaze softened. He held her to his chest and cradled her.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
It wasn’t okay! It was horrible. It was the worst thing. It was-
There was a little feeling of heat between her legs. She closed her eyes tight and her legs tight, but there was no stopping it once it started.
She held him, slipping her arms around him, and wailed into his shoulder. The little trickle of heat became a gushing stream, hot like the tears in her eyes. It was all over his lap, all over his chair, all over.
Then he was up and she was on the floor. His nice gray pants marked with a huge dark spot.
“Look at what you did!” he said, pointing at the spot, then the chair.
She knew it was his plan, she knew she was just doing what she was told, she knew she was a full grown woman who could have stopped at any time, but the tears wouldn’t stop and the humiliation wouldn’t end and it made her feel dizzy and stupid and very small.
“Get into the bathroom right now. We will clean up your fucking mess and then we will have a discussion about this, do you understand?”
She didn’t understand. The part of her brain that understood things was gone and she was just a little girl who wet herself. She was a dirty little pissy pants girl who would do anything to be forgiven.