By Sorbus

“So you’ve gotta take a piss? Well, the world is a man’s urinal. I’m not going to stop you,” his side-eye look at me couldn’t conceal his humor at this turn of events. The grin on his lips widened as his grip on my arm tightened, preventing me from pulling loose.

My mouth fell open in protest as I was yanked forward, having naively thought it would be as simple as him letting me find a tree and opening my Wranglers, and of course untying my wrists! My words stumbled out of my mouth in the same manner my booted feet stumbled over the hard-packed but uneven dirt path. “Uh, Sir, you, uh, kind of are. Stopping me, I mean, I can’t. . .  uh, take a leak unless you let me go! Literally, you, uh, you’ve gotta untie me!”

Was this some sort of test or did he really think my nearly bursting bladder was something to joke about?

“Come on, I think you can make it a just a little further.” His voice failed to suppress his laughter. But that laughter cut off when I dug in the heels of my boots, pulling back. He stopped in response, turning slowly to face me. His hand remained in place, still firmly gripping my bicep.

I swallowed, feeling uneasy. The look on his face showed zero humor now. “Sir, you don’t understand, I-”

“Wrong, boy,” he growled, shaking his head slowly back and forth. “I understand completely. But what you fail to understand is that I have absolutely no intention of untying your wrists until we’re at my cabin. And you also fail to understand that there is a toilet just up ahead. Yeah, it’s an outhouse, but it’s literally just around the corner up there. Just past that cluster of white pines. 50 feet, maybe 75 at the most.”

My eyes widened, looking in disbelief. And then I realized where we were, and I realized that he was right. I was amazed at just how far we’d actually walked. Talking with him had been so easy, so absorbing that I’d lost all track of time and, yes, space. The lake was literally right there, off to our left. The empty campsite we had stopped next to was one I’d used just last year. Used it just once, because, yes, there was an outhouse literally seconds away. I had been too distracted by him, and then by my nearly bursting bladder to notice that . . . unique smell.

“Too bad, boy,” his voice cut through my thoughts, “Too bad, since you can’t wait, since you can’t go just that short distance. I guess you’ll just have to stand behind that tree there and take a piss right now.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I said, my shoulders falling as a I took a heavy breath of relief. I really shouldn’t have been such a naive fool. I really should have known he wasn’t going to just give up like that. . .

“Well, let’s go then,” he said, his teeth showing between his lips as he made an exaggerated gesture towards the edge of the path. I took a couple of steps past him, stepping into the brush, then looked over my shoulder in confusion.

“Uhm, Sir, I, uh, I need your help.” I looked down at my buckled and zipped Wranglers, then looked up at him again. I squeezed my legs together, not caring how it made my cage nearly crush my balls. “Aren’t you, I mean, would you please open my pants for me. Sir, please? Will you please help me?”

“No.” His reply was simple, but no less shocking. He then folded his arms across that well developed chest. At any other time I would have been drooling over the visible strain put on the seams of his shirt. The way the fabric strained over those biceps, the way his pectorals were about ready to pop some buttons. But this was not one of those times.

“Sir, please!” I begged. Flat out, not denying it, not gonna sugar coat it- I was begging. “Sir, please, I really need your help. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. . .” My booted feet shifted in place, and I started pulling so hard on my rope bindings I was surprised I didn’t dislocate a wrist.

“You insisted that you simply couldn’t wait, boy,” he said, shrugging. His words, spoken so calm and quiet, contrasted my increasingly panicking state. “Remember, my decisions are consequence driven. You couldn’t wait, so the consequence is you piss right here, right now.”

“Sir,” I huffed, glaring at him, “I’m not having fun anymore. This isn’t a game!”

His laughter made a blush bloom over my neck and face. But it wasn’t a laugh of amusement. His voice, dropping in both octave and volume, cut through the short distance between us like a knife. “Whoever said it was a game? I’m playing for keeps, boy. Didn’t you realize your training had already begun? What exactly, did you think was going to happen? I’d take you to my cabin, bend you over an Adirondack chair, and then after I’d given you the ride of your life, we would what, crack open a couple of beers? Have a bit of a cuddle as we watched the sunset together? Boy, seriously, have you never had a Dom take control over you? It’s obvious that you’re a total sub- every bone in your body is submissive. And yet you don’t know how the quote ‘game’ is played?”

My blush of anger turned into one of humiliation, because, before I could come up with some sort of suitable retort. . . it happened. I heard it before I felt it. The undeniable, unmistakable, hissing sound. And then I felt it. Looking down, I watched as liquid bloomed across the crotch of my pants and then began to soak my inner left thigh. I watched in disbelief as I felt my left sock suddenly become soaked, and liquid seep into my left boot. Yes, part of it spread to my right thigh, but wearing pants this tight definitely requires the pool stick to be pointed towards one pocket rather than down the middle.

My eyes flickered between the growing wetness of my jeans and over to his face. Much to my surprise, he seemed unsurprised and . . . unimpressed?  He looked almost patient and was obviously in no hurry. He even reached one hand up to scratch at his jaw. But then his eyes flickered to the side, to where a mixture of voices could be heard.

“You might want to get behind that tree. Or turn around at the very least,” he said, tilting his head towards that noise. “I’ll bet you a blow job it’s a group of . . . five frat boys. It must be Greek Week out here or something. You probably shouldn’t be standing there, having pissed your pants like a naughty pervert.”

The blush still on my face deepened and spread, making me feel like I was suddenly sunburned. I spun around and did my best to conceal myself, but having my hands bound behind me impeded my actions. I very nearly tripped on the buckbrush that hindered me more than helped hide me.

“Hey, hold up guys!” the college guy in the front told his group, as they came around the corner. He then called over to where we were standing, “Hey, Mr. Game Warden. How’s it hanging?”

“Hey guys. What’s up Kappa Sigma?” Stevens’ voice called back. I shook my head at the slight way he seemed to exaggerate the a vowels, elongating them as if he too were a drunken frat bro.

“Could this be a fellow brother?” the leader of the group, four of them in total, then made some sort of hand gesture.

I couldn’t see the response, because Stevens’ back was to me, but the reaction from the four college guys had me shaking my head. I’d long felt that the only useful thing for frat boys was to show up in porn videos or spank-worthy stories. I felt a little betrayed that Stevens was actually one of them. . .

“My fellow brothers, I present to you an extinguished, I mean uh, a distinguished alumn! Long live Kappa Sigma!” The leader then led his fellow frat brothers in a bow, which nearly made two of them fall over in their drunken state.

“I accept your show of obeisance,” Stevens replied, obviously trying not to laugh. “But go and drink some water, guys. Lay off the booze for a while. And no tapping the keg until sunset. It’s a little too hot for you to be this drunk so early.”

“We shall be guided by your wisdom in this,” the leader replied, then he squinted slightly, having finally noticed me. “Whoa, a little public urination? No bueno man, being this close to the path! If you were one of us, you’d be reporting to the pledge master for some punishment.”

“Sorry, yeah,” I called over my shoulder. “But you understand, don’t you? When you gotta go, you gotta go.”

“Don’t worry, my brothers,” Stevens added then, “I’ll make sure he gets the proper consequence.”

“See that you do, Mr. Game Warden, Sir!” a second frat boy had found his voice, and he raised his beer bottle in salute. The group then proceeded to continue down the path, high fiving and fist bumping Stevens as they passed him.

“Hey, hey guys! Where’d you go?! I was only taking a piss in the outhouse there. Why’d you leave me?” A fifth member, slightly out of breath from his drunken running, joined the group. He stumbled to a stop, staring at me for a moment.

“Let’s go, Danny boy,” the leader called to him, “Stay caught up, will you? We’ve gotta make sure the pledges set the tents up correctly.”

“Whoa, that guy’s pants were super, super tight! Is he a cowboy or something?” the straggling member stage whispered drunkenly as he hurried past us. He stumbled, nearly falling as he turned to call back, “Hey, Cowboy! Where’s your horse?”

I fell to my knees at that point, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me whole. Seriously! Seriously?

“Maybe next time you won’t fight me, ay?” Stevens’ voice at my ear made me jump, nearly made me fall over completely. “Now get up and let’s get going. Hopefully we don’t run into any more people. I can cover tied wrists. I can’t do much about piss-soaked pants.”

I felt myself hauled to my feet and hauled out of the bush I would gladly have allowed to eat me, and then I stared down once again at my soaked thighs.

“Well, it’s not going to get any drier just standing there. Let’s move!” He laughed and then took my arm once again in his strong hand. I made no complaint as he hurried me forward. I was just grateful he didn’t decide to turn us around and detour through the campground, past all those pledges! I stared at the ground as we walked down the path, refusing to look up. I kept my eyes planted on the ground in front of me, I didn’t want to know if there were other people around, so I pretended if I couldn’t see them then they couldn’t see me.

My mind churned, roiling with conflicted thoughts. Why was I doing this? Why was I still going with him? Why hadn’t I demanded he release me right there? I could have, should have, grabbed my satchel with my car keys and taken off. Gone back to my car and driven away, tail tucked between my soggy legs. Why was I allowing him to do this to me? But my feet continued to move forward, to walk in step with his as we continued to move forward. My mind might be saying no, might be unsure. . . buy my body obviously was saying yes! He hadn’t done anything to hurt me, after all. And ‘done to me?’ What exactly, had he ‘done to me’ that I hadn’t, of my own free will permitted?

“So, boy. I hope you’ve learned a very valuable lesson here,” his voice was calm but firm, as implacable as a rockslide as it interrupted my thoughts. “If you hadn’t fought me, you would’ve relieved yourself in that outhouse. We wouldn’t have had that slightly uncomfortableness with that those frat brothers. And you wouldn’t have to walk the next three quarters of a mile in soaked pants.”

I couldn’t stop myself. I simply couldn’t. I felt I had to reclaim at least some sort of ground, even a minor skirmish in what I knew was a losing battle. Yes, my body might be surrendering to him, but my mind wasn’t going down without a fight. “At least I won the bet,” I said with a snort, looking up at last.

“What? What do you mean?” His eyebrows raised and he shook his head, a rumbling laughter coming from deep in his throat. “You most certainly did not.”

“You bet a blow job that it was 5 guys,” I said, tipping my head towards him. “You said it was a group of 5 frat guys. But it wasn’t, it was only 4. The fifth guy joined late. Therefore I win.”

A smack to the back of my head nearly put me on my knees- from the shock and resulting stumble, not because it was all that hard.

“Boy, you really, really don’t know how to quit, do you? You certainly aren’t quitting while you’re ahead, instead you seem intent to dig yourself a deeper and deeper hole. No, you most certainly did NOT win the bet. In fact, I think you’re going to regret trying to twist those words. Now, come on. We take the next right and head up to the east. My cabin is just over the ridge.” He pulled me along, guiding me down the trail and then, much to my relief, into the forest once again. Cedars rose like giants around us. Their thick boughs spread wide, and I shivered reflexively as the heat of the sun was blocked so suddenly.

The path became too narrow for two adults to walk side by side, so we stopped once again. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. . . of course he’d have more rope! Soon there was an inescapable knot wrapped around my belt buckle and two belt loops, with a short lead held in his hands. I felt a bit like a prisoner, as I followed him. But I followed him without complaint.

The path meandered along a stream, which meant it also became overgrown with ferns and larger leafy plants. I became so focused on not losing my footing on the increasingly narrow game trail that I lost all track of time again. It wasn’t until I walked right into him, that I realized he’d even stopped.

“Home sweet home, boy,” he said as he pulled me around in front of him. I stared up at the solid wooden fence in front of us. It was 8 feet tall, made from wide cedar boards. Before I could say anything, I felt myself being led about 15 feet, then taken behind a large spruce tree. A gate with a solid lock now blocked us. He didn’t say anything as he pulled a keyring out of his pocket, fitting a key into the lock. After we had passed through, he put the lock into its matching place on the inside of the gate, and clicked it closed.

And there it was. There was the ‘cabin,’ with its large windows reflecting the sun’s light and the cerulean blue sky.

To be continued …