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Found 9 results

  1. (Before we start, this is based off a picture I drew back in July, and the idea stuck with me shortly after I drew it. And it has a reference to a certain 'musical' video, but it's not very relevant.) Also, BF and GF's names in this are Keith and Charlotte respectively, even though GF doesn't make a physical appearance in the fic. The two never thought they'd get back together. Just the previous week, Charlotte's father hired Pico to kill her boyfriend who turned out to be his ex, and now they were back. Of course, Keith still loved his girlfriend dearly, so he asked her if the three of them would be in a polyamorous relationship when things were sorted out, which she agreed to. The three decided that the two boys would spend a date night together like old times while Charlotte was with her parents. The restaurant they went to had free soda on Saturdays, so they took advantage of it then went overboard when they decided to do a drinking contest, one trying to outdo the other. "I-I gotta stop....I'm gonna-" Pico placed the empty glass on the table rim down as a loud, guttural belch escaped his gullet. "Oh god.... So...... who won?" "....I don't know." The table was absolutely covered with glasses, just about to the point that the plates that they finished beforehand were barely visible. It was just then Keith noticed the twinge in his abdomen this amount of indulging was sure to result in. He also noticed that his redheaded boyfriend also had it pretty bad, and he seldom made his desperation known. And of course they had to realise NOW that the restaurant's men's room was out of order. "Guess we'll have to find somewhere else, we'll never make it back like this...." "Let's hope we can....ngh...sh-shit...." But there wasn't much open in town at that time of night, and the few establishments that were had their bathrooms to paying customers only. Somehow they found themselves in the corner of town where bathrooms don't exist. "Damn it, where the hell are we gonna find a bathroom at this hour?!" "M-maybe this church over here has a bathroom!" "...yeah, that's gonna happen. Why would you consider that option anyway, Keith?" "Uhh...." That was when Keith recalled. Pico wasn't there at the time. Before he started looking for a bathroom then ended up rap-battling against a Neapolitan ice-cream-esque nun, he remembered the ginger hothead was in front of the queue of the Funk E. Cheese's men's room, threatening to shoot the lock off... An hour into their search, the situation was really getting dire. The two could barely walk without leaking every few steps and they both had a bit of a bulge if one could look closely. The blue-haired individual heard a slight whimper and turned his head around to see his partner bunching the bottom his sweater up, his legs twisted into a preztel. "I-I can't do it...... I'm gonna have to piss here...." He rushed into the alley, already scrambling to get his belt undone. Keith joined him, knowing that he didn't have much time either. He saw a hidden hole-in-the-wall place when he was about to undo his own pants. "W-wait! We could try over here!" "Wh-what?!" Pico noticed it too, but he thought he had to pee so bad he started hallucinating. Next thing he knew, Keith grabbed his hand and opened the door in the alleyway wall. Luckily for them, the restrooms were right near the entrance. They scurried in, still holding hands while Pico had his other hand holding his pants up so they wouldn't fall down. "Shit shit shit, it's trickling out-!" "Just hold on for a few more seconds, we're almost there...." B reassured his lover, feeling himself start to lose control too. They rushed to get themselves positioned and aimed at the urinal wall, their aching bladders doing the rest of the work for them. They couldn't believe it, they were finally getting relief... For what felt like hours, the feeling of pure relief was coursing through their veins the more their bladders emptied. For the next minute, the only sounds that could be heard were forceful hissing and moans of complete and utter bliss. Pico finished first, rubbing his flat, sore bladder then tucking himself back in... He turned his head to Keith, finding out that he was still going full force, a clear sign that he definitely won that contest from earlier. He couldn't help but stare, looking at the stream that was just now beginning to falter. "Oh my god...." Soon enough, he stopped, sorting himself out. "Damn Keith, you sure had me beat...." "Heh, yeah...." That was when they stopped holding each other's hands, walking over to the sinks to wash them. "Let's head back..." They nodded, and left the bathroom, resuming the handholding at a much more leisurely pace...
  2. From the album: LydiaPrower8's Omo Art

    Yes, it's a reupload because this bloody site won't let me edit posts moments after uploading them.
  3. From the album: LydiaPrower8's Omo Art

    Yes, I know it's a Sunday, but I uploaded the original picture on my Furaffinity yesterday.
  4. From the album: LydiaPrower8's Omo Art

    Yes, it's a reupload because this bloody site won't let me edit posts moments after uploading them.
  5. From the album: LydiaPrower8's Omo Art

    Yes, I know it's a Sunday, but I uploaded the original picture on my Furaffinity yesterday.
  6. Under Dean's bad influence, Seth got drunk. He also got high, and admittedly, he overdid it. Two hours in, and he was laying more than sitting in a booth, his formerly sharp black dress clothes were rumpled, and his shoes lay discarded under the table. Beside him, Dean was making wisecracks about Bray Wyatt, who was holding court across the room. “How much bacteria do think is in that nasty beard?” Dean asked Seth, Roman, and Sheamus. “Don't get me wrong, we all have some degree of a beard, but not like that, that's just...ewww.” Dean shuddered. “There's probably pieces of food in there and everything.” “Like a whole turkey leg,” Roman quipped. “Thanksgiving leftovers!” The foursome cracked up, then Sheamus exclaimed: “Fuck, I'm going to piss my trousers!” Roman stood up to let Sheamus out of the booth, and shrugged. “Guess I might as well go too, as long as I'm already up.” He followed Sheamus, and left Dean and Seth sitting together. Seth laughed. “Looks like we're dating.” Dean shrugged, a faraway look in his glassy eyes. “They are. Well, maybe dating isn't the right word, but they've got something going on, Roman and Sheamus.” “Oh yeah?” Seth asked. He liked hearing gossip. “I think so. They've been spending a lot of time together. Are you feeling that underlying sexual tension pulsing between them?” “Honestly, I'm not feeling much of anything right now,” Seth said, and giggled. “I'm so fucked up.” Dean gave a small smile. “I'll bet. But, anyway, I still say they're lovers.” He looked down at his nearly-empty glass and pouted. Suddenly, Seth realized that Dean was jealous; Dean had feelings for Roman that went beyond friendship and Shield brotherhood. Cute Dean had never hidden his bisexuality, and thanks to the internet, Seth's was no secret, either. Seth touched Dean's shoulder. “Want to go smoke another bowl?” Dean didn't hesitate. “Yes, yes I would.” Seth clumsily pulled his shoes on. He saw Dean looking at the door to the men's room, where they'd smoked earlier, and where Roman had followed Sheamus. Dean looked hurt. “We'll go out on the patio,” Seth said, quickly. They had the patio to themselves. It was a windy night, and they had to huddle close, hands touching, to light Seth's glass pipe. Seth was aroused, being so close to Dean, smelling his cologne and shampoo, and the leather from his jacket. After the hacking and coughing were over, Dean said: “I feel...better, thanks.” They were still very close. The sexual tension between them was not underlying, it was so thick Seth swore he could almost see it. “Dean-” Then they were kissing, frantically. Dean was a delightful kisser, Seth had always known he would be. Seth pulled him close and felt something hard pressed against him where he was hard. “Mmmm...I had no idea you were bi, Seth!” Dean gushed. “You little bullshitter,” Seth laughed. “Okay, so I did know, I just didn't know you were into me.” “Well, I am,” Seth announced. “So, what do you think?” Dean hugged him tight and kissed him again. “I think it's great! I gotta ask: Are you a top, or a bottom?” Seth thought of Mistress mounting him, and Master's old schnitzel in his mouth and giggled, giddy. “A bottom.” “Thought so. I'm a switch.” Before they could resume the make out session, another bottom entered the picture: Bo. “Hey guys! Mind if I join the party?” “Yes,” Dean replied, flatly. “Oh, great!” Bo whooped, and slapped Dean's perfect ass playfully. Seth got right in Bo's ugly face. “What he meant was yes we mind, as in get the fuck out of here, Bo!” “Hey, I was just-” Seth gave Bo a push towards the doors. “I said, get the fuck out of here, Bo!” Bo backed away, palms up in submission, and went back inside. “Who the fuck let him in anyway?” Dean asked. “If I had to guess, big brother did. I didn't see his name on the guest list, that's for sure.” Dean tried to open the patio door. “Little brother locked us out.” He banged on the door, but it was too loud inside for anyone to hear. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I gotta pee, too.” “Someone will come out for a smoke soon,” Seth said. He wondered if the moment with Dean had been killed by Bo. If so, he would put an end to Bo's nearly non-existent career. Seth had an “in” with the Authority. Dean paced back and forth. “Oh, fuck it, I'll just pee right here.” Seth decided to test the waters, so to speak. “Can I aim for you?” Dean broke into a huge smile. “Hell yeah! Never tried that before. C'mere and help me pee on this plant that looks like the Jolly Green Giant's pubes.” He gestured at a potted fern. Seth laughed, and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. He bent so he could see, well, somewhat, in the darkness, around Dean's shoulders. He watched Dean undo his jeans and pull down the front of his tighty-whities, and came down with a case of penis-envy; Dean was longer, fatter, and rock hard. Seth wrapped his hands around it, stroking and caressing it, and made Dean moan. “I hate peeing with a hard on, but I have to go so bad.” “Hurry up and piss, I want to play,” Seth said, and stroked Dean's cock. Precum, not piss, came out of it. “Fuck, Seth, you're not helping! If you want me to pee, you have to stop playing.” Seth forced himself to stop stroking Dean's hot cock, and loosened his hold on it. He felt Dean push, and a short, but forceful spurt of piss came out, which Seth was not able to guide to the fern, it went on the wall, instead. They laughed, and Dean tried again, but nothing. “I guess I'm not very good at this, am I?” Seth asked, coyly. “It's not your fault, it's this godawful hard on... Wait, it is your fault!” Dean playfully tickled him. Seth giggled, and clutched at his sides. “I need to calm down,” Dean admitted, and tucked himself back into his tight jeans. He winced. Seth led him to a chair. “You look so uncomfortable.” Dean nodded. “Throbbing cock in jeans like these; uncomfortable is an understatement.” Seth, of course, had to grope. He was finding it hard to keep his hands off Dean. “Mmmmm.” “Seth! You're not helping, again! Here I am, willing it to go down so I can finally pee, and you're trying to keep it hard.” Dean half-scolded, half-flirted. “Once I pee, I can play. I don't want to, you know, pee when we're doing something.” “I did once,” Seth admitted. “But, oddly enough, I also had the most intense orgasm ever.” “Hmmm, interesting. Mind telling me about it?” Seth had to change up how it went down, of course, he couldn't give up his secret to Dean, who couldn't keep a secret. Not that Dean was intentionally a gossip, he just talked a lot, and sometimes his brain couldn't keep up with his mouth. “I was with this guy-” “Someone from work?” Dean wanted to know. “No, a Wall Street broker,” Seth lied. Dean laughed. “Should've known you'd go high-class.” “Yeah, you know me,” Seth smiled over his lie so easily bought and continued. “Anyway, he wouldn't let me take a piss before he mounted me. It was the most amazing, intense feeling I ever had. I pissed all over the bed, and came at the same time.” “Wow...” Dean mused. “Then, I got spanked for making the bed a mess, but I hardly felt it in the afterglow.” “That was a hot story,” Dean commented. “I got spanked recently, too.” Seth chuckled. “Yep, by Bo. Fifteen minutes ago. I was there.” “That definitely doesn't count, for anything.” “What did you get spanked for?” Seth wanted to know. “My teacher spanked me for deploying my army of little soldiers in my pants. She ordered me not to cum, but pushed me to the edge. When I lost it, there was so much jiz I felt like I peed my pants. Looked like it, too.” Seth kissed him softly. “You're so hot.” “Teacher actually ordered me not to cum or masturbate for fifteen days after that, and I've got a week to go, and my balls are ready to pop,” Dean's hand automatically went to that area. “She didn't tell me I couldn't have someone else touch me, though, so I guess we're good there.” “But what if I make you cum?” “I'm sure you will, Seth. What teacher doesn't know won't hurt her.” “You're such a bad boy.” “I know. I'm going to try to pee again. You can watch, but it's probably best you don't touch.” Seth followed back to the potted fern and watched while Dean watered it. “Better now?” He asked, when Dean had finished. “Yeah, I think I lost ten pounds.” “Good, my turn.” Seth undid his dress pants and began pissing into the fern. “Damn, Seth, you've got a nice cock!” Seth smiled. “The most famous in all of wrestling entertainment.” The fern was saturated, and piss began running out onto the patio. “Oops.” “Bad boy,” Dean teased, and stepped out of the river's path. “I know, I'm incorrigible.” “Surprised you can pronounce that one.” “I can pronounce anything when I'm not live. But, I've gotten better.” Seth shook off and put himself away. He smirked at the mess he and Dean had made. A stream ran all the way across the patio to pool in a corner. “I'm such a dirty boy.” “Me, too,” Dean added, as he looked for a way off the patio. “Yeah, you are. Bad influence, too.” “I think we can get down if we jump on the dumpster. It's only five, maybe six feet,” Dean said, looking down into the alley. Seth looked. “Yeah, we fly from higher than this. Look out! Superstar!” He shouted as he leaped. He landed solidly on the lid of the dumpster, and hopped down to the alley. “Come on, Dean!” Dean jumped down, too, and they embraced and kissed again. Seth couldn't help but grope Dean again, too, and this time, Dean groped him back. They hurried across the street, where their rooms were booked, to Dean's room. As they frantically stripped each other, Seth barely heard Dean say he was sharing the room with Jey, but Jey seldom came back before four. Naked and hard, Dean and Seth dove for the nearest bed. Dean produced a bottle of lube, and dripped some on to Seth. It was warm, and when Dean wrapped his hand around him, Seth was stunned by the pleasure. “Fuck, Dean...” Dean smiled, sassy, and dripped some on himself. He guided Seth's hand to where it would pleasure him most, and thrilled Seth jerked him, sensually, slowly. Dean moaned. “Oh, Seth, sweetness, stop!” Shocked, Seth pulled away, afraid he'd hurt Dean. But, he looked at Dean's squinted face and quivering muscles, and realized Dean was struggling not to cum. Although Seth remembered Dean telling him that he hadn't been able to cum for a week, forbidden to by his “teacher” (whoever that was, Seth still wondered), it was a feather in his cap of many that he'd made Dean feel that good; that he wanted to blow right away. Seth thrust his hips, fucking Dean's hand as he kissed him. “Mmmm, you're so fucking hot.” “I don't want to cum yet,” Dean said. “Can you stay hard and cum again once you do?” “I did when I was a teenager, but now I need a break in between,” Dean admitted, and blushed. “Me, too,” Seth said. They cooled things a little, just kissing and petting, until Dean's trail of kisses found its way down Seth's belly to his cock. Seth wrapped his fingers in Dean's hair as Dean's lips wrapped around his cock, and everything else dissolved as Seth discovered the wonderment of Dean's delightful oral. Several times Seth thought that he, and even the world, would explode, and Dean would sense that, and switch his method, easing Seth off the peak before building him up again. Seth felt like his soul, his strength, his everything, was in Dean's skillful hands and mouth. Seth began begging Dean to let him cum. He had never wanted to so badly before. “Not yet,” Dean replied. But, he did cease playing, and laid down beside Seth, their hard cocks side by side. “I feel so small next to you,” Seth admitted. “Oh, shush,” Dean chided. “I don't have more than an inch or so on you. And, yours is sexier; I've got this big vein running right on the top of my shaft, and I hate how purple the head gets when I'm really horny.” Seth looked. His cock was prettier. Both his, and Dean's, were drooling shiny precum. “Yours is still sexier to me,” he said. Dean smiled, and they shared another kiss. Their cocks rubbed together, a hot sensation. Their precum mixed together in a musk, joining the cinnamon scent of Dean's lube. “Let's see what I can do for you,” Seth drawled. “Tie me up?” Dean asked, excitedly. Seth grinned. Dean really was a dirty boy. “Sure, but with what?” Dean produced a pair of handcuffs, and took his belt out of his discarded jeans. “You can use your belt on my other leg,” he said, brightly. Awkwardly, Seth tied Dean to the bed. He'd never done that before; he'd always been the one tied down. But, he could see that Dean was excited, eyes aglow, and breathing fast. Seth teased him, gently stroking Dean's hot body everywhere, besides his cock. Oh, he would come very close, and Dean would moan and his cock would twitch. He blew hot air on to the purple plum head. “Do you want to cum for me?” Seth asked. “Oh, fuck yeah I do! I'm not going to try to hold back anymore.” “Good,” Seth said, and took Dean's fat cock into his mouth. So different in size and texture from Master's, and tasting of cinnamon lube. In no time at all, Seth had it clean, and tasted only Dean's precum. “Sixty-nine!” Dean cried. “Please, Seth, I want you.” Seth turned, so Dean could have at him, too. Being back in Dean's mouth was so pleasurable his toes curled, and even though he wanted to moan and cry out, he kept sucking Dean. He hoped he was making Dean feel as good as Dean was making him feel. Panting, he licked and sucked that purple plum while teetering on the edge, about to explode in Dean's mouth. Just as the first spurt of Dean's cum splattered in Seth's face, Seth shot his load, too. He wrapped his pretty mouth around Dean's cock again, and felt cum hit his throat. He swallowed it, as Dean swallowed his. Spent, they laid together and shared a bottle of water. Seth tasted his mouth, and enjoyed the feeling of Dean's body beside his. Dean was stroking the blonde streak in Seth's hair. “And they call me the lunatic fringe.” Seth giggled and began tickling Dean. Dean responded tit for tat, and Seth was quite ticklish. “Stop, I gotta piss.” Seth wiggled, and held himself like a little boy. “Awww, that's so cute. And me, too, actually.” Seth got up and headed to the bathroom. “I always do, soon after I cum.” Dean followed. “It's a natural reflex, clears the pipe so you don't pee in stereo later.” Seth sat down on the toilet. “C'mere, Dean. I want your hot piss all over my hot cock.” Dean giggled. “I don't want to make a mess, Seth!” He held himself, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Seth patted his thighs. “Sit in my lap. You know, like spider-style on a swing.” Dean did, and Seth wrapped his arms around him. He kissed Dean's earlobe. “Let go,” he whispered, and felt Dean loosen his grip on himself. Seth felt Dean's hot piss pour onto his groin, and drip noisily into the toilet from his jewels. It felt amazing. He kissed Dean when he, too, started pissing. He was still pissing after Dean had stopped. “Wow, Seth!” “Yeah, I can hold a lot,” Seth said, and pissed two more long streams. “My limits have been stretched, most recently on RAW. Almost five hours in the car, no time to piss before my promo. I thought I was going to piss my pants the whole fucking promo, but I didn't.” Seth got up, and flushed the toilet. “I don't think I could've handled that,” Dean said, as he pulled on his briefs. “I would've peed my pants, for real.” “You're not going to shower?” Seth asked. Dean grinned and shook his head. “Nuh-uh.” “I wasn't going to, either,” Seth admitted. “What dirty boys we are.” Dean nodded eagerly in agreement. “Have you ever peed yourself?” Seth thought about the self-goldenshower Mistress had ordered him to do. He didn't think that was what Dean was asking though, so he replied: “I've never had an accident, at least not as an adult.” “I peed myself on the way to Arlington, how embarrassing.” “Last week?” Seth asked. “Yeah.” Dean blushed. “I was riding with Jey, Jimmy, and Naomi. There was a problem at the rest area, so I started heading for the woods, but I just couldn't take it anymore. Everyone found out about it, too.” “Awww, poor thing,” Seth said, and patted Dean's back. “The twins were really sympathetic, Naomi, not so much. But, no one told, so I guess all's good.” “Mhmm. I should get back to the party.” “I don't even know how it went on without you,” Dean said, and kissed him. “Our champion. My champion.” “Can we do this again?” Seth asked, as he buttoned his shirt. “I'd love to.”
  7. It was a Tuesday night following a Smackdown taping, and Sheamus was out with Roman Reigns, celebrating and getting drinks from fans. They couldn't drink everything they were bought, but they were both drunk. They had decided to stop at a small, out-of-the-way place far from the arena, so they weren't inundated with fans, and the few who were around were pleasant. They took few pics once they'd had their photo ops. If they called anyone who cared to show up for a peek, the bar would probably be closed by the time they arrived. Sheamus had to go potty, but so far Roman wouldn't let him. He claimed it was better to wait, because once a guy went, the seal was broken. He tried to take a sip off the glass of beer that had been set before him, but it went straight to his bladder. He tugged at Roman's coat sleeve. “I can't stand it anymore, I need to go potty now,” he whispered urgently. Roman looked over at Sheamus squirming as discretely as he could, and felt his own close-to-bursting bladder twinge. He kept a straight face though, and nodded. “Yes, let's go to the restroom.” They excused themselves from their fans. Sheamus followed Roman to the men's room. Roman looked stoic and cool, but Sheamus picked up something tight in his walk, and slightly hunched in his posture. Big brother had to go potty, too. Roman only lost his cool briefly, when he tried the door handle and found it locked. He winced, and knocked sharply on the door. Sheamus had already lost his cool, he was shifting his weight from foot to foot in an embarrassing potty dance. “I'm going to wee myself!” He told big brother Roman. In sheer seconds, he would. Roman tried the door handle on the ladies' room, and it opened. He hurried inside, already undoing his black cargo pants. Sheamus rushed in behind him, raking down his jeans, but Roman had already claimed the toilet. Sheamus whimpered, and big brother moved over to make room for him to wee, too. “I'm sorry, lil bro,” Roman apologized. “I couldn't wait one more second.” “Neither could I,” Sheamus said. “Better make this one count. No more stopping until we get to the hotel.” Sheamus realized he'd leaked a little in his pale blue jeans on the way to the toilet. Since he wasn't wearing anything underneath, the wet spot was very obvious. He blushed and turned away from the big guy, who was amazingly still weeing. There weren't any paper towels in the restroom, only a roller towel, hung high. Even if it hadn't been hung high, he wouldn't have tried to dry his jeans on it. He took a handful of toilet paper instead and tried to lessen the damage. But, alas, it was hopeless. Big brother finally finished weeing, and noticed little brother's little accident. He gave Sheamus a quick snug. “It's okay, bro, you can wear my coat.” Roman took of his leather coat, and Sheamus shed his Adidas hoodie. They traded, and the leather was long enough to hide the accident. Sheamus hugged him. “Thanks, bro.” Roman squeezed him back. “Let's get out of here.” They left the restroom, then the bar. Out in the parking lot, Roman grabbed Sheamus's bag from the trunk of their rental car and handed it to him. It was his big traveling bag, not the small gym bag he'd grabbed before the show, and in which he'd forgotten to pack pants. Sheamus unzipped the big bag and dug up a pair of bright green briefs with black waistband and y-front details. Roman smiled, they were sexy on his guy. “You're not going to go potty in those, right?” Sheamus gave him a sassy grin. “I'll try not to.” “Good boy.” Roman rubbed Sheamus's head, tousling his mohawk out of place. Sheamus pulled out a pair of purposely faded and destroyed black jeans, and Roman put the bag back in the trunk. While he drove, Sheamus changed in the passenger seat. He put the wet jeans in his gym bag with his wrestling necessities. Happy and dry, among other things, he leaned against big brother and snugged him. “How far to our hotel?” He asked. “I haven't booked at any,” Roman admitted. “I wanted to knock out some of the driving to Virginia when no one's on the road.” “Good idea, bro.” Then, remembering all they'd had to drink, Sheamus had to ask: “Are you sure you're good to do so?” “I think so... Hand me a bottle of water.” Sheamus did. “Want an energy drink? Sober you up.” “No thanks. If I keep driving long, I might want to stop for coffee, though. My stomach couldn't handle it now.” Roman put a hand to his belly, which wasn't feeling it's best. He wished he'd thrown up before getting behind the wheel. “You okay, big guy?” “Yeah,” Roman lied. “Can you get me another water?” Sheamus did, and hoped Roman would need to stop for a potty break soon. He himself already needed to go, rather badly, He'd broken the seal once again. “Ah...bro?” He ventured, nervously. “Already?” Roman asked, knowing what Sheamus wanted. Sheamus nodded, and wiggled. “Well, you'd better hold it until we get to a rest area or truck stop, Shay. I've been drinking, and if we run afoul of the law, I'll get busted.” Sheamus undid his jeans and adjusted the waistband of his little green and black pants. He adjusted his posture and tried not to think about weeing. He leaned forward to look at the GPS, but the pressure on his bladder made the task impossible. “How far are we from either?” Roman fiddled with the device. “There's a rest area up ahead...about thirty miles.” “How far is that in kilometers?” Sheamus asked desperately. “I don't know, bro. And stop squirming. I have to go, too, and you don't see me doing that.” Sheamus tried not to fidget so much and concentrated on his muscles instead. Roman turned on the stereo. Roman pulled into one of the closest parking spots to the rest area and parked. “I don't think I can make it to the toilet!” Sheamus cried. “Yes you will,” Roman encouraged. “Come on, I'll help you.” Sheamus shook his head. “No, I've got to wee right here!” He threw open the car door and immediately started going potty. “Shay!” Roman scolded, and opened the back passenger door to give Sheamus more privacy before heading towards the building in a careful walk. “Hey, Roman!” Startled, Roman froze. He had to, or he would unleash a flood. He tried to look casual as he searched the darkness for the owner of the voice, his friend and former Shield mate, Dean Ambrose. Dean hugged him from behind, and a brief, sizzling sound escaped Roman's lips. He blushed and held himself, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Dean had nearly made him piss his pants. Dean released him. “Uh-oh, gotta pee, huh?” “Yeah.” Roman continued his tight steps towards the building. “Maybe I should tickle you,” Dean threatened. “Oh, fuck no. I'd piss all over the place.” Dean got the doors to the lobby and the men's room for Roman, and hung with him, chatting happily while Roman used the trough. Dean, Jimmy, Jey, and Naomi had stayed and partied in Chicago after the show, and had had a crazy time, but none of them wanted to stay overnight. So Dean had begged the twins and Naomi for a ride to wherever they were staying for the night. Roman nodded at what could be the right times, they were both drunk, and Dean, who talked a blue streak when he was sober, didn't even seem to take a breath when he was fucked up. Roman could smell weed on Dean's jacket, too. Dean continued yapping about how he'd pissed off Naomi, and wondered aloud if he'd been left here. Roman washed his hands. “Was that why they stopped?” He teased. “Actually, I forgot why we stopped... Hmm...” Dean overexaggerated a thoughtful state for Roman's amusement, pacing back and forth, face in hand, elbow in other hand. “Oh, I got it! Naomi wanted to make sure I wouldn't pee in the rental car again, so she ordered me to use the men's room.” “Are you sure it wasn't an excuse to ditch you?” Although Roman and Dean were tight, onscreen and off, Dean could get annoying sometimes, and he had sympathy for his cousins and Naomi. “No... They wouldn't do that... Would they?” Dean asked, and started pissing in the trough. “I don't know,” Roman replied. “See you later, travel safe.” He was close enough to the door to cut off Dean's reply. He hoped Dean's ride hadn't left. Usually, he wouldn't mind giving Dean a lift, but Roman really wanted to spend time with Sheamus alone. In the parking lot, he caught sight of the twins and Naomi getting out of a bright yellow sedan and waved, not stopping to chat. He headed back to his own rental, a gray Hyundai Sonata, and Sheamus, who'd managed not to get busted pissing in public. As he sat down in the driver's seat, he realized he was getting tired. He was looking forward to relaxing and playing with Sheamus in their hotel room before falling asleep until at least noon. “Now this time I mean it,” Roman told Sheamus as he guided the car back on to the freeway. “No more stopping until we get to a hotel. But, I plan on stopping soon.” Before long, Roman saw a sign for a casino hotel and decided to stay there, if they had a suitable vacancy. Since the lot wasn't full, there was a pretty good chance they had plenty of open rooms. He pulled into the circular drive, left Sheamus in the car, and went inside. It was posh, high-class. Roman inquired the woman at the front desk, and registered himself for a double queen bed room. He grabbed the key cards, and went back to park the car. “Did you get a room, big guy?” Sheamus asked. Roman smiled. “I did.” He handed his brother/lover the cards and drove into the lot. He spotted the yellow sedan. So, Dean was here, too, and his cousins. He found a spot near a side entrance and parked. They went through the process of unloading their luggage and carrying it upstairs to their third floor room, number 317, which Sheamus believed was lucky, as it was St. Patrick's Day. Roman thought that was cute. The room was large, luxurious, and anonymous, with a patio, hot tub, and mini-bar. Sheamus set down his two bags and looked longingly at the restroom. Roman noticed. “You can hold it. Come, let's fix a bed. “ Together, they stripped one of the queen beds down to the mattress cover. They maneuvered Sheamus's PVC mattress protector, and a thrown away sheet over it. Sheamus hopped up on the bed and wiggled. “Can I go potty now?” “Just chill for a bit, bro. Want a drink?” Roman peered into the mini-bar. “Water, please.” “Yeah, I think I've had enough of the hard stuff myself.” He got two bottles of water and handed one to Sheamus. Then, he went to his bags and stripped. Sheamus watched with adoration and appreciation as Roman shed his clothing. He selected a pair of gray boxer briefs he knew Sheamus liked to see on him when they played; they showed precum spots so well, and clung to his manhood tightly. Sheamus stripped down to his pants, too. Roman turned up the heat, and joined him on the bed. Instantly, they began making out, passionate and heavy, having been denied intimacy for much of the past few days on the road, days full of practice and shows. They stroked and caressed each other, loving the feel of each others skin, and trying to convey that love through their fingertips. They entwined their lower bodies and grinded on each other, their cocks long, hot stones held tight in their briefs. Roman shifted, so he was on top, and before he leaned back down to kiss Sheamus, Sheamus saw how much precum had already leaked out of the big guy. It looked like he'd already cum, but Sheamus knew that couldn't be. Roman was very vocal, and loud, when he came. Thinking about that made Sheamus want to cum, but he couldn't, not when he needed to go potty so badly. He squirmed beneath his lover more meaningfully, and Roman got the hint. He sat down beside little brother on the bed, and felt his tummy. Big brother pressed on his bladder, and try as he might, Sheamus weed a little in his cute green pants. He looked up at Roman in dread. But, the big guy only smiled, and stroked him through the wet pants. “It's okay, bro, you can go now.” Sheamus let go and shivered with relief as he soaked his pants and made a big puddle in bed. Roman groped him the whole time, then scooped up handfuls of the wee and playfully splashed him. “All better now?” Big brother asked. Little brother nodded, and splashed more wee from the puddle on to his pants. “Good. My turn.” Roman struck a pose on the bed, kneeling and jutting out his crotch, like a model in a dirty magazine. Sheamus admired the view, tight pants, precum stain, and above the waistband of the pants, the big guy's bladder was bulging. Sheamus wanted Roman to go potty all over him, and scooted closer. He leaned over to kiss him, and whisper his desire. Roman grinned, and nodded. “Leave the pants on, please,” Sheamus begged, as he layed back in the bed puddle. “Just for you, bro,” Roman replied, sensually as he straddled his lover. He leaned down to kiss and touch, and Sheamus felt the hot wee flooding his lap. He tugged Roman's pants down to his hips, to make his mickey pop out, the wee shot up Sheamus's chest. He moaned, and rubbed it in, delighting in the feel of his slick, wet skin. He tried to catch some in his mouth, but he didn't try too hard, he didn't particularly care for the taste after big brother had been drinking. The puddle they were laying in deepened, pure naughty pleasure. They kissed and massaged each others wet skin madly, fraught with passion, desire, and something primal. Their pants slipped off, and they rubbed each others mickeys; the wee made amazing lube, and soon Roman was groaning, and beginning to curse under his breath. “Mmmmm...” Sheamus tried to keep his cries subdued. He was sometimes embarrassed when Roman got so loud, especially when he was all but certain their hotel “neighbors”, or even random people walking past their room, had heard. Even though they were drunk, and silly, big brother knew his body well, and before long, Sheamus made squirties all over himself and the big guy. “Oh, Roman,” he cried softly, as the jiz shot from his mickey. But, he managed to keep rubbing big brother, knowing by experience, (the feeling of his mickey, not to mention the animal-like growling), that Roman was about to explode. “FUCK!” Roman shouted, and delivered a superman punch to the wall, at the pinnacle of pleasure. Then they were cuddling, spent. After awhile, Sheamus began to shiver, the puddle had begun to cool. “Cold?” Big brother asked. Sheamus nodded. Roman snuggled him close. “Don't worry, I'll warm us up.” He loved pissing in bed, and had to go anyway, he always did soon after cumming. He rewarmed the puddle and smiled lovingly at his sub, “Last chance to go potty before bed, bro. Do you need to go?” Sheamus shook his head. “Nuh-uh.” Roman felt his tummy. “Yes, you do. Come on, out with it.” Sheamus weed a little. “All of it, Shay. I don't want you to wet the bed, well, the other bed.” Sheamus obeyed. “Good boy,” Roman snugged him. When the puddle got cold again, they got up and toweled off. They went to sleep in the other bed, tired and satisfied.
  8. Okay, guys, doing it right this time, putting the whole thing in one thread. Sorry for doing it haphazardly in the past. About: This is another WWE fan fiction story. It is slash, and features watersports on all levels, sex, and some BDSM. Not safe for work. Contains vulgar language and some light drug use. Still ongoing/incomplete. Summary: Seth Rollins recovers from surgery with the help of his lover, Dean Ambrose. His other former Shield brother, Roman Reigns, also comes to visit. But, Dean and Roman can't stay, the show must go on. While they travel together, Seth is left behind, but the Authority sends their ailing pet a "gift" in the form of a houseboy. Submissive Seth has to learn how to become dominant. Chapter 1 – Seth's Knee Surgery Seth awoke for the first time he could remember after the surgery. He had to piss so terribly he thought he was going to wet the bed. It was even worse than the awful pain coming from his repaired right knee. He was also nauseated, yet thirsty, like he had the flu. He honestly felt like he might throw up, and moaned. “Hey, you're awake!” Dean's voice said, brightly, and he sprang out of a chair Seth hadn't yet noticed. “How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?” “Trash can, I think I'm going to be sick.” Dean got the trash can there just as Seth began to retch and dry-heave, but that's all it was. Dean was alarmed. “I'll call a nurse.” He pressed Seth's call button, and did his best to comfort his lover, who felt cool and clammy. He stroked Seth's hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Very soon a young, sandy-haired male nurse appeared, smiling kindly. “Good afternoon, Mr. Rollins. I'm Matt, your evening nurse. How are you feeling?” Seth felt so awful he couldn't do anything but shake his head. Dean had to speak for him. “He's really feeling sick to his stomach, and feels cold and clammy. He tried throwing up, but nothing came up, since he hasn't had anything since last night.” Matt nodded. “Very common way to feel after surgery. A lot of stress on the body, a lot of drugs and anesthesia. I'll get you something for the nausea. Are you having any pain?” Seth nodded, and cleared his throat. “Yes. It hurts worse now than it did before. I don't think I've ever felt worse overall. On top of what he said, I feel weak, tired, thirsty, and I really need to, um, drain off.” Matt lifted the blankets near the end of Seth's bed. “I'll take your catheter out and get you a urinal right away.” “I'll step out for a bit,” Dean said, and squeezed Seth's hand affectionately before leaving. Matt pulled the curtain around Seth's bed. “I'm not going to lie to you and tell you this won't hurt at all, but it won't hurt nearly as much as you think. Just try to relax, and take deep breaths.” Seth tried to follow the nurse's advice, but it still burned when Matt pulled the plumbing from his cock, and helpless tears sprang to his eyes. “It's okay, it's out now. I'll go and get your meds and and some water so you can have some privacy.” Matt positioned a urinal for Seth, who exploded before his nurse could even turn away. As soon as that discomfort was taken care of, the pain in his knee grew exponentially, and he began to cry like he was six years old again. Matt reappeared, took the urinal away, and handed Seth a box of Kleenex. “Is it the pain?” Seth nodded and wiped his eyes. “As soon as I get your vitals, I'll give you something for the pain,” Matt assured him. Seth continued to sniffle while Matt took his temperature, blood pressure, and looked at the monitor and IV lines. Then, he cleaned off a port in the IV line with an alcohol swab, and gave him two injections through it. “You should be feeling a lot better in a few minutes, Mr. Rollins.” Seth wiped away the last of his tears, and blew his nose. “Thank you. And, call me Seth.” “Okay, Seth. Did you want a wet cloth for your face?” “Yes...That would feel nice.” He took a sip of the water Matt had brought, and it didn't unsettle his stomach. His parched mouth chanted relief. Matt brought him a cool, wet, washcloth from the private bathroom, then busied himself in a computer, putting notes in Seth's chart. Seth washed his face, then folded the cloth over his eyes. He looked horrible when he cried, and he didn't want Dean to know. He wondered how long Dean had been here; Seth had made it known to his friends and coworkers that he didn't want any visitors, so he hadn't expected to find his lover beside him. But, Seth was really happy he did. When the nurse was satisfied Seth was feeling somewhat better, he left, and Dean reappeared, pushing a cart laden with flowers, balloons, and gifts. “Lots of well-wishers, Seth. I already weeded out the fan stuff and had it sent on to the children's hospital.” “Thank you.” Seth smiled, feeling fuzzy from the drugs, and Dean. Dean gave him a hug. When he pulled away, Seth thought he saw tears in his lover's eyes, happy tears. He turned his attention back to Seth's get well gifts. “Just look at all this stuff! I don't know where to start.” “The flowers,” Seth suggested. “Because nothing says 'get well soon' like a dead flower.” “Oh, babe, have a heart!” Dean chided playfully. He picked up an arrangement and read the card. “This is from Mark Henry.” Before Seth could reply, there was a knock on his door, and Dr. Shu, his surgeon, came in. Dean excused himself again. Seth hoped he wouldn't come back with yet another cart full of gifts. Dr. Shu told Seth his surgery had gone very well, and he would be using crutches first thing tomorrow, and that he would have been using them tonight if he hadn't had a shot of morphine. Right then, walking on crutches didn't even seem like a remote possibility to Seth. After Dr. Shu left, Matt came in with an in-room dining menu. “You can order your dinner from here by calling the number on the front, or your friend can bring you whatever you'd like from the outside.” Seth thanked him, and Dean came back as Seth was looking at the menu. He knew he should eat, he hadn't since dinner last night, but he wasn't hungry. “Did you want me to get you some takeout?” Dean asked, and sat down in the chair beside Seth's bed. “I'm not hungry.” Seth set the menu on his table. “You need to eat something, though. Dude wouldn't have brought that to you if they didn't want you to eat something.” “True,” Seth sighed. He tried picking the menu back up, but drugged, he could not. Dean picked it up instead. “Wow, they've got practically everything!” What are you in the mood for? If it's not on here, I'll go get it.” “No, honey, you don't have to do that. I just want something small.” “Soup and a sandwich?” Dean asked. “Yeah, that sounds good. Tomato and grilled cheese.” Dean searched the menu. “They've got it!” He exclaimed triumphantly. “Comfort food. I'll get the same.” “Will you call the number on the front?” Seth asked. “My brain isn't...” “I've got it handled.” Dean picked up the room phone. He ordered their trays, adding milk, coffee, and chocolate cake to the agreed upon tomato soup and grilled cheese, but Seth didn't object, it sounded good. “They should be up in forty-five minutes or less,” Dean told him, after hanging up the phone. “I hope it's less,” Seth said. “I wasn't hungry before, but now I'm so hungry I feel sick all over again.” Dean jumped up and went to the cart of gifts. “There's food in here. Lots of candy, a tin of giant cashews from...Neville...Team Bella sent you four gourmet cupcakes...And Roman sent you this ridiculous chicken-shaped mug, and good old Mrs. Grass.” Seth giggled at the ugly mug. “Let's try the cashews.” Dean opened the decorative tin, and plastic bag within, and extended the tin to Seth while munching one. “These are awesome!” Doped-up Seth nearly upset the tin, so Dean fed him one. As Dean had said, it was awesome. Dean continued to feed him, and Seth started to feel better than he had all day. He caught Dean's hand and kissed the salt and oil from his fingers. “Thank you, honey. I know I said I didn't want anyone here, but I'm really, really happy you're here. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here.” Dean snugged and kissed him. “I'll always be here for you. Do you want some more water?” Seth nodded, and Dean handed him the styrofoam cup. “Thank you.” “Want to look at more gifts?” “No, actually.” “How about a social media update? I did call the boss, let him know your surgery went well, so I'm sure WWE will issue a statement, but you should really do a tweet or something.” “Yeah, I guess I kind of have to. Can you help me?” “Of course.” Just as Dean finished posting updates as Seth, there was a knock at the door, and Matt came in with a young, plump, redheaded nurse's aide. Both of them were carrying dinner trays. “Soup's on, guys,” Matt said, and put Seth's tray on his bed table. “This is Rochelle, one of our certified nursing assistants.” Rochelle handed Dean his tray, and turned her attention to the patient. “Hi, Seth, I'll be your CNA until eleven tonight. Is there anything I can get for you right now?” “More water, please.” He also wanted to piss before dinner, but didn't want to tell her, or any other female for that matter. “Okay, I'll be right back,” Rochelle replied, and left. Matt began pulling the bed table across Seth's lap. “Wait.” Seth blushed. “I want to piss, I mean pee, first.” “I'll get your urinal.” “I'll be right back,” Dean said, and stepped out. Matt drew the curtain around Seth's bed again and handed Seth the necessary. Embarrassed, Seth slipped it under the covers. He found he couldn't piss, despite all of his efforts, his body just seemed to have forgotten how. “I can't go,” he admitted to Matt. “That happens sometimes with pain medication, especially morphine,” Matt explained. “Do you really need to go bad?” “Well, no, I'm just a little uncomfortable, nothing major.” “Okay. Why don't you have dinner, and some water, and I'll come check on you in an hour. Of course, if you need me before then, you can call me. Sound good?” “Yeah, that's cool. Um...what if I still can't go?” “Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be able to, once the morphine wears off. We'll give you a different pain medication next time.” “How long before it wears off?” “Hours yet, but with a full bladder you should be able to go before then,” Matt assured him as he pulled the bed table across Seth's legs. Rochelle reappeared with water and left with Matt. Dean came back in. “You okay?” “I couldn't piss.” Seth drank some water. “The nurse said it was because of the morphine, so they're going to change my pain meds, but I might not be able to piss until it wears off unless-” “Eat, sweetness,” Dean gently interrupted. “Oddly enough, this is really good! Hospital food has gotten a lot better since I was fifteen. That's the last time I was in a hospital.” Seth began to eat. “What for?” “BMX stunt gone wrong. I landed on my face, and my friend was filming it, so the whole thing was caught on tape. We tried to send it in to AFV, but they rejected it on the grounds that it was too gory. I won't go into detail, but I looked like I'd been hit by a bus.” “Damn,” Seth mused. He glanced at his IV drip of saline. It was dripping slowly. He sighed. Dean put down his sandwich and took Seth's hands instead. “What's wrong babe? Can I get you anything?” Seth shook his head. He felt so helpless, and hated himself for it. He wanted to cry again, and hated himself for that, too. Dean sensed his distress, and hugged him tight. Seth winced. “Oops, sorry. Forgot you needed to pee.” Dean loosened his hold. “No, I don't. I just want to, but I can't. I'm so...uncomfortable.” “Do you want me to get your nurse?” “No, honey, he said he'd come check on me in an hour. And, I probably won't even be able to piss then... Fuck, I hate this!” Dean rubbed his shoulders. “Shhh, sweetness. Just relax; stressing out will only slow your recovery.” “I feel like...like I've... Oh, I don't know... I was on top of the world. And I know I've only been here for a day, and I wrecked my knee only a few days a go, but it feels like forever... And the belt, the glory, the glamour, the acme all seems like it happened decades ago.” Seth had never felt more depressed. He slumped in bed. “And, a year's recovery! That may as well be forever!” “It's not a year, it's nine months, babe, tops. And, knowing you, you'll be back in the ring before then.” “Forever,” Seth repeated. “I can't believe this happened to me.” All Dean could do was hug and pat him. Roman, with his recent injury, surgery, and recovery would know best what to say, and Dean made a mental note to text him the next time he stepped out. “Let's focus on right now,” Dean tried, and handed Seth the box of Kleenex. Seth hadn't realized he was crying again until then. “Come on, lunch is getting cold,” Dean coaxed, and Seth resumed eating, feeling detached from himself, Dean his only port in the storm of negative emotions, a save haven, and Seth was so grateful Dean was at his side. That was love. When Matt came back, Seth was more than ready to piss. Dean excused himself again, already busy in his phone texting Roman for help. Despite having to piss so badly he was in pain, Seth was unable to, once again. Matt tried to help him by running water, putting his hands in warm water, and even pressing on his visibly bulging bladder, like his owners sometimes did, but nothing worked, and Seth was a mess of frustrated tears and angry curse words. Matt suggested a break, and there was a knock on the door. Matt went to answer it. “Do you want your friend to come in? He seems pretty concerned. And, he's brought coffee.” Seth nodded, and Matt waved Dean inside. Dean was carrying a drink tray with three large coffees in it. He handed one to Matt, put one on Seth's bed table, and kept the last for himself. “You should drink your coffee,” Dean told Seth. “It's the worst thing for your bladder; at least that's what I heard.” “You heard right,” Matt said. “Drink up, Seth.” Seth refused. “Hell no. I'm not putting any more piss in my bladder...Grrrr...I want the piss out NOW!” “Maybe another position might help. Let's get you sitting up, on the edge of the bed.” Matt suggested. Automatically, Dean set down his coffee and came to help. Seth was crying again. He wondered if he had the courage to just ask for the catheter. Seth was a perched cripple; Dean holding him around the waist from behind, nurse supporting him in front. He was humiliated, and cursed again. “Shhh...” Dean whispered in his ear. “I'm here for you, my love. Everything's going to be okay. Now just relax... Oh my gosh, Seth, I can actually feel your bladder.” “So can I,” Seth sobbed. He heard Matt tell Dean to do something, and suddenly, Dean squeezed Seth tight, pressing his laced-together hands into Seth's bladder. The discomfort was too much to bear, and his body finally gave in. Piss splashed noisily into the bedpan the nurse held. “That's it, Seth, just keep peeing. Dean, you can stop pressing on him, but hold on to him.” Seth was finally pissing on his own. It had never felt better to do so. He was growing shaky, and tired from the relief. He sniffled. Dean snugged him. “Everything is fine, sweetness, don't cry,” he whispered. But, Seth couldn't help it. He was exhausted, not only physically, but also mentally, which was weighing harder on him. He just wanted to go to sleep and wake up a week ago. When Seth finally finished pissing, Matt and Dean settled him back into bed. Matt took his vitals, Dean coaxed him into having some coffee. Matt brought him another cold cloth for his face and asked him if he needed anything else. Seth shook his head, and Matt left, promising to check up on him in a couple hours. Dean giggled. “I'll bet you feel better after that. Matt said that was three times as much as the average guy could hold.” Seth nodded. “Yeah, that was a lot of piss. I still ache from it. Thank you for helping me get it out.” Dean smiled, and they shared a kiss. “I couldn't bear to see you in pain.” “Come here.” Seth patted the bed, and Dean climbed in beside him. They held each other, Seth affectionately stroked Dean's hair, and Dean sighed happily. “You have no idea how worried I was when you were under the knife,” he confessed. “You have no idea how happy I am that you disobeyed my no visitors rule,” Seth responded. “I'm so happy you're here with me, helping me out.” “I want to help you once you're back home, too. With cooking, and laundry, driving, you know, stuff like that,” Dean said, nervously, and Seth was surprised, and pleased, to see him blushing. “I mean, I won't be able to be there when I'm working, but I want to be there for you as much as I can.” “Yes,” Seth said, happily. “I'd love that.”
  9. Back at the party, Seth paused before a mirror in the lobby. He straightened his collar, and walked into the party like he was walking on to a yacht, and right into Kane. “Why, Tyler, I haven't seen you all night.” “It's Seth.” Dr. My-Sack Yankit, the Lita rapist corpse-fucker, he wanted to add, but didn't. “Ambrose and I got locked out on the patio.” Kane laughed. The Bella twins shoved between them, dragging Alicia Fox between them. Foxy was moaning that she was going to throw up. “Morning sickness?” Kane called after them. Seth laughed, and followed Kane to the VIP section. His owners were in a lush, half-moon booth, still enjoying drinks and canapes. “Look who I found,” Kane announced. “Seems some smart ass locked our champ and Mr. Ambrose out on the patio.” “Now who would do that?” Mistress asked no one in particular. Seth answered. “I'm pretty sure it was Bo Dallas, Ma'am. But, I think he was just trying to be funny. You know how he is.” Seth had decided not to ask the Authority to find a reason to fire Bo, since Bo's stunt had facilitated his playtime with Dean. “Indeed,” Mistress replied, dryly. “Little weirdo; I can't wait until his contract expires.” The Authority and Seth laughed, and he and Kane sat down in the booth, too. Seth ordered water from the cocktail waitress. “That...thing is the only one I've ever had to order to wear underwear,” Master sneered, after the waitress left. “You would think something like that would just be common decency, or even common sense, but no, not to Bo.” “Being in the ring with him is truly a disgusting experience,” Seth said. “We try to minimize that,” Kane replied, seriously. “We gave him a stupid gimmick, too. All you have to do is Bo-lieve!” Seth felt good, on the same level with the Authority, but he knew it was just an illusion. He left the party early, to ready the suite for sleep. In his room, Seth stripped out of his dress clothes and buried his face in them; they smelled faintly of Dean's cologne. His underwear was stained with precum and smelled like Dean's piss. He put them in his laundry bag, tucked his again-erect cock into black boxer briefs, and pulled on the orange jail shirt. He turned down the master bed and laid out the robes and a gown for Mistress; Master always slept naked. He put a bottle of water on both nightstands. Then, his phone, which he'd tucked into the waistband of his boxers, vibrated. A text from Dean! Seth's heart pitter-pattered. Just woke up, really need to pee, J's passed out in the bathroom. I'm about to wet my bed! What should I do? Seth looked at the time. Did he dare? It was Dean, hell yeah he dared! He texted back: I'll be right down. You can piss on me. He yanked his dress pants back on and swapped the jail shirt for “Never Shuts Up”. He grabbed his key card and dashed downstairs to Dean's room. He knocked softly, and Dean flung it open, clearly desperate and flustered. “Is Jey really passed out in there?” Seth asked, thumbing at the bathroom door. “Uh-huh,” Dean replied, miserably. “If you listen close, you can hear him snoring. He's been in there forever, and I really gotta pee; I even peed my briefs a little and-” “Honey, it's okay, I'm here now.” Seth kissed him softly before sitting down in the desk chair. “Come here.” Dean, still wearing his damp briefs, climbed into Seth's lap, and Seth instantly heard that distinct hissing noise before feeling Dean's piss soak his crotch again. “Oh, fuck...I'm peeing my briefs...I'm trying...I'm trying to stop...I'm trying...Oh, fuck, I can't stop!” Dean managed to pull down the front of his soaked briefs, and a huge gush of piss drenched Seth's WWE t-shirt. “Sorry, Seth!” “No, it's okay, I love it.” Seth took control of Dean's pissing cock, and aimed it towards his own mouth and let Dean fill it. “Wow, you really are a dirty boy, aren't you?” Seth swallowed, even though he didn't like the spent-alcohol flavor. “Yeah, I'm a dirty little fucker. Filthy in thoughts, words, and deeds.” “I fucking love it!” Dean declared, and kissed Seth right on his pissy mouth before getting up and discarding the wet briefs. “Hey, can I have those?” Seth asked. Dean grinned and handed him the wet underwear. “That's a first, never had anyone ask me for my undies.” “My first time asking for someone's.” “Let me get you some dry clothes.” “It's not necessary.” Dean giggled. “What if someone sees you?” Seth smirked. “I fell in the pool.” Dean handed him a pair of sweats and a wifebeater. “Okay, I'll put the pants on.” Reluctantly, Seth slipped out of the wet things and folded them neatly, with Dean's briefs tucked inside, and pulled on Dean's pants. Dean snugged him. “You're so cute. Thank you for coming by and letting me pee on you.” “Anytime,” Seth said, and gave Dean a quick kiss. “Sweet dreams, bad boy.” “Good night, babe.” Seth ran as fast as he could with a hard on all the way back to the presidential suite, hoping his owners had not beat him there. If they had, he would have some explaining to do. Luckily, the suite was still empty when he arrived. He didn't know how much time he had left, though. He hid the bundle of wet clothes under his bed and traded Dean's sweats for his uniform. He put his dog tags on and went to the sitting room to wait. He couldn't stop thinking about Dean. It dawned on him that for the first time in years that he had a crush! It seemed stupid, not to mention juvenile, but the feelings were the same. Just to think of Dean made his face red, his heart throb, and the butterflies flutter in his belly. He could smell Dean's piss on his skin, a primal, erotic thing, and he got hard. He awoke to the voices of his owners. Master's somewhat sarcastic: “Awww, look.” Mistress's somewhat tender: “Poor Sethie, he must be exhausted.” Seth couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep on the floor of the sitting room. Quickly, he got on his knees. “I'm sorry Sir, Ma'am.” He stifled a yawn. “You're good, Seth,” Master said, and patted him, then drew away, and looked down upon him with suspicion. “You smell like piss.” Seth reddened. He had no idea what to say. His tired mind frantically scrambled for an excuse, or even a response, but he couldn't come up with one. He began to get scared. Mistress sniffed. “Oh yeah he does. Did you have an accident, Sethie?” Seth was relieved, Mistress had made the excuse for him. Feigning shame, he nodded. “Oh jeez,” Master shook his head. “You're almost thirty years old, what's wrong with you? Well?” He prodded, when Seth didn't reply. “I tried to hit the men's on my way out of the party, but there was a line. Then, I accidentally left the elevator on the wrong floor, but I thought it was the right floor, so I got lost trying to find the room,” Seth lied, in his meekest voice. “Stupid Seth,” Master laughed. “I think you must be bleaching your brain along with that streak in your hair.” Mistress laughed, too, then remembered the internet. “How many people saw you?” “No one...Well, I passed by some people, and there were the people in the elevator, which is how I ended up getting out on the wrong floor, but that was all before I pissed my pants.” “No one saw you afterwards?” She asked. “No, I was already in here when it happened.” “Whew, thank goodness. Thought for a moment we had another scandal on our hands,” Mistress said, visibly relieved. Seth blushed, since he'd already caused one this year with his naked pictures. “And you didn't even have the sense or decency to take a shower.” Master shook his head. “I didn't know when you were coming back,” Seth said. “I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything right away.” “Did you at least clean up your puddle?” Mistress asked. “Yes, Ma'am.” “You didn't wet the carpet?” “No, Ma'am, I was in the bathroom when it happened.” Mistress was apparently satisfied, and went into the master bedroom, but Master lingered. “So let me see,” Master began. “You made it all the way to the bathroom and you still couldn't use it properly?” Seth was hating this, elaborating a lie he might have to remember later. “I couldn't hold it.” “Stupid Seth, don't you have an ounce of self-control?” “Yes, Sir, I do.” Master unhooked his belt, and pulled it from his dress pants. “Go to your room, Seth.” He folded the belt in half, and cracked it. Seth obeyed. He knew Master was going to whip him for “having an accident”, but it was worth it. He would suffer a thousand lashings with Master's belt and tell the biggest lies if it meant he could play with Dean again. Seth realized his room smelled like Dean's piss, too, from the clothes he'd thrown under the bed. He hoped Master wouldn't notice, but of course he did. “Your room smells like piss, too. Didn't you say you cleaned up? Did you lie to me and my wife, Seth?” “Yes, Sir, I cleaned up, but I forgot to rinse my clothes. I'm sorry, Sir.” “Strip, and get into position four. Time to punish you for your accident.” Master ordered. Master had already stripped, down to “manties”, this time a purple and pink zebra-striped thong. Seth took off his uniform and bent over, holding his ankles. It was going to hurt, he knew, Master never fooled around when it came to giving his pet the belt, but he guessed he deserved it; he was a dirty boy, even if he hadn't had an accident. Master whipped him with the belt five times, hard. It wasn't the worst Master had ever whipped him, but Seth knew he would still have welts, and would have to be careful changing in the locker room. “Go rinse out your clothes immediately, and air out this room,” Master ordered. “Sometimes I wonder how you got as far as you have without someone keeping you in check.” “Yes, Sir,” Seth said, dutifully, ass still aflame. “I don't ever want to come upon a mess like this from you again, understood?” “Yes, Sir.” “Wake us up tomorrow at ten.” “Yes, Sir.” “Good night, pet.” “Good night, Sir.” Finally, Master left, and a wave of relief washed over Seth. He'd pulled it off, he'd done dirty deeds with Dean, and no one was the wiser. He laughed at his own pun, and pulled the pile of wet clothes out from under his bed. He found Dean's briefs, and pressed them to his face, feeling the cool dampness and smelling his scent. Seth placed them under his pillow, and went to rinse the rest of his clothes and hang them on the shower curtain rod. He inspected the welts on his ass, one for every lashing, but none were bleeding. Satisfied with his day, he went to bed and curled up with Dean's briefs. He couldn't wait to see him again. He hoped to see him in his dreams.
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