Chapter 0 - common decency

The worst part is that he already knows, before the disaster has even fully struck, and there isn’t a damn thing she can do about, not once he already has her figured out.

This was not intentional, no matter how much Grimsley may be enjoying it. He simply caught her at a bad time, when she’d allowed herself to get too lost in her own head, paying absolutely no mind to her body’s needs or continued protests. Shauntal is not proud to admit that this happens to her fairly often, and even less proud to admit that sometimes, the realization once she has returned to reality, the sharp pang reminding her of her predicament, gives her a certain thrill, one that she has never, and has never intended to, share with anyone.

But there is none of that thrill today, because she was not snapped out of things because she’d finished up for the day or because it had gotten too bad to bear, but because he’d dropped in, catching her with her legs tightly crossed, grinding down into the chair a bit, all of this happening without her realizing it. She doesn’t realize any of this until he’s already spoken to her, and by then, it’s too late.

Of course, the look in his eyes tells her that she has already been found out. As she stands on shaky legs, she already knows that he knows , and what’s worse, he isn’t going to politely step aside to let her take care of that. No, he’s going to make this as difficult as possible for her, because when has he ever seen a chance to make things difficult and not taken it?

Which would be fine and expected if it were any other situation, but right, Shauntal just seriously needs to pee, and the fact that her boyfriend is not going to make that easy on her is the worst obstacle she could have imagined.

“Distracted again?” he asks. “You jumped when I called out to you, so you must have been really wrapped up in that.”

“It’s...been a long day,” she replies, taking another shaky step forward. Oh, this isn’t good at all- she’s already past the point where she can walk normally. If he weren’t here, she knows that she would be much too excited and only mildly guilty about her excitement, as she shoved a hand under her skirt and stumbled to the bathroom, just barely managing to peel her tights off in time. And sometimes, it would be such a close call that she would still have to change for the rest of the day and…

It’s hardly the time to be thinking about those secret indulgences, when the one she most wants to keep them a secret from is staring her down with a wicked smirk that fills her with a mixture of dread and that same excitement she is trying to forget. He leans against the doorframe, still blocking her only exit, and his comfort meant to show her that he has no intention of moving.

She is already nearly at her limit, and she knows that begging is not going to solve anything. No matter what she does now, it is only going to further feed into what is to come, and her thighs snap together, and she whimpers without meaning to. Absentmindedly, she pulls at the bottom of her skirt, something to keep her hands at her sides, where they belong.

“You already know you’re not going to make it,” he says, at last putting what he knows to words, removing any possibility for doubt that he isn’t already in on things. “You’re probably not even going to make it to the door. What were you thinking, letting it get to this point?”

He’s not going to let her make it through the door, but there’s no point in protesting that, and when she opens her mouth to say something , she only squeaks, losing her train of thought in the process of nearly control, just for a moment, just enough to startle her into letting her hands wander. There is a pointed look from him, and she looks down herself, just to see the pathetic state she has been brought to, both hands pushed under her skirt.

She can feel the slight dampness, and knows that she must be in truly bad shape to have leaked enough to feel it even beyond her tights. He isn’t ever going to let her live this down, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Doubling over, she groans and she whimpers, and she looks up at him, pleading with her eyes and knowing all the while that this will only be met with more amusement.

“You’re just going to give up, aren’t you?” he asks, he dares her.

“I...I could have…”

“And how do you know that?” He raises a brow, and she wonders just how much he has already figured her out. She’s made it with less time to spare before, she thinks, but he won’t allow her that, and will still play it off as being entirely her fault. The only thing that she can do now is give in, despite the humiliation, despite the knowledge that this is going to be used against her time and again, and despite her attempts to hide from herself that that is exactly what she wants.

There is a moment of almost-silence, punctuated only by her last desperate whimpers in her last desperate attempt to hold on, even knowing that it is pointless. No matter how close she could have been to avoiding this, there was no avoiding it once he set his eyes on her, lost in her work and squirming in her chair, oblivious to her needs just as much as she was oblivious to the plans already forming in his mind.

And then it’s all over, with only a token resistance put up as she grinds against her hand, trying to stop the sudden spurt from growing into anything more, but as it soaks into her panties, it doesn’t stop, not like the leak from before. Soon enough, the stream is pushing down her tights, running down her legs, pattering to the floor, and the only sound she makes is one soft, defeated squeak.

Shauntal stares at the ground, not that watching the puddle grow on the floor beneath her is much better than looking straight up. Actually, no, she can imagine the exact look on his face while he watches her, and she decides that this is a much better alternative, and keeps her eyes on the ground even long after it has slowed to a stop, leaving her bladder empty. Though it still aches a bit from the prolonged pressure, the actual relief is absolute bliss , and at a time like this, it feels impossible to sort out the mixture of humiliation and ecstasy, and before she can even attempt to, Grimsley is already upon her, and she finds herself pushed against the wall behind her.

His hand is under her skirt, feeling her soaked tights, which have already started to go cold. He strokes her above her clothes, and only now does she dare to meet his eyes, taking in a sharp breath at his mocking gaze, just one step below cruel, and she curses just how much that turns her on. Of course, it’s always like this, and even if this is the first time she’s pissed herself in front of him, it will never be the first time he gets an edge like this over her, and he will never be able to resist exploiting that. Isn’t that the biggest part of why she fell into this to begin with?

She expects a biting remark before he fucks her, but the fact that he begins peeling the wet clothing away without bothering means he’s waiting for it, saving something for later. Or perhaps….perhaps his labored breathing, the way he seems to be absolutely straining against his pants, his impatience to get straight to fucking her, means that he doesn’t care about taking a dig at her right now? Despite her vulnerability, despite it being so damn easy now, he might actually be too impatient to fuck her, or too aware that he’s in no position to talk, wanting to fuck her as badly as he does, that he doesn’t bother.

She knows that isn’t likely, but doesn’t have much of a chance to think on it farther, as he pushes her legs up and holds her up against the wall. Shauntal wraps her legs around him, not putting up any resistance. They both know without her having to admit to it- she may have just pissed herself, but that isn’t the only reason she’s wet right now, and he knows without her ever confessing to it that she wouldn’t actually let herself get that desperate if a part of didn’t enjoy it.

They’re both into it, both freaks for their own reason, and with a low groan and a swift thrust, he buries his cock in her, and neither are able to hold back. With her head tipped back, she doesn’t try to disguise her needy whimpers, and he gives her everything she wants and then some. It isn’t long before he’s pounding into her, a hand resting on the back of her head as an afterthought, just to make sure that he doesn’t slam her too hard against the wall while he fucks her mercilessly.

Her soft squeaks come out louder and louder until she is moaning for him, completely shameless and completely his. In return, Grimsley grunts, rhythmically with each jerk of his hips, rocking her back and forth on his cock, until she is left shuddering and crying, her body wracked with her orgasm. And still he holds firm throughout, fucking her through it and even as she starts to relax, leaning further back with only his arms to support her weight.

He doesn’t stop until he is satisfied, coming with a sharp exhale, lingering like that until the bliss has begun to wear off. After that, he sets her on her shaky legs and pulls out of her almost gracefully, a sharp contrast to the way she still struggles to stand on her own. Finally settling on not bothering, she slumps back against the wall, lowering herself until she is sitting, very close to her ruined panties and tights. At least she hadn’t been wearing shoes when it’d happened…

He stands over, not moving, and she finally looks up at him, the smirk on his face snapping her out of any sort of hazy afterglow. She was wrong to think he was simply going to let it go and accept his own depravity in the matter as equal leverage, and right to think that he was just biding his time, waiting on something else. Before he has even spoken, she knows that, but when Grimsley does speak, it only confirms that.

“You’ve already made such a mess, of your room and of yourself,” he says, his casual tone quite the contrast to the look on his face. “You don’t mind if I add to it, do you? If we’re just completely past the point of common decency and you get to piss wherever you want, I don’t see why I can’t.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer from her, but she prefers it that way. She prefers it that way because at least then she doesn’t have to answer, and doesn’t have to either tell the truth and admit that she very much wants this, or to lie and have him call her out on it, because of course he will be able to tell. But he doesn’t wait for an answer, aiming and relaxing his body and his bladder with a sigh, making sure to thoroughly soak any undamaged parts of her outfit.

Shauntal is, at this point, done feigning innocence and done feigning shame, leaning into it and parting her lips, so that when he focuses on her face…she moans, and he laughs at her, causing her to squirm. He is not so polite that he tries to avoid her glasses, making a complete mess of her from head to toe.

When he is completely empty, he shakes his head and simply says, “Now look at you,” as if she’s gone and gotten herself pissed on all by herself, as if he had no hand in the mess that they both share. “I guess I’ll have to leave you to get cleaned up…”

Though her knees still feel a little weak, she rises before he can even start to pretend to leave. He knows that, after that display, she’s not done with him yet. Not even close. 

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