"Leashed, Wet, & Obedient"

She smiled as she pulled him along by his collars leash, clearly enjoying her time shopping as her man starts to squirm. He clearly needs to go pee but it wouldn't be any fun to let him go just yet! She wants to see him desperate

The leather leash clipped to his collar jerked taut as she tugged him past another shop window, her stiletto heels clicking sharply on the tile floor. His cock strained against his tight jeans—partly from the ache in his bladder, partly from the way her smirk promised no mercy. She paused by a lingerie display, pretending to examine a sheer babydoll, and let out a soft laugh as his thighs clenched involuntarily. "Problem, pet?" she murmured, trailing a finger down his chest. He swallowed hard, shifting his weight—his cock twitched at the featherlight touch, even as desperation made his muscles tense. She turned away before he could answer, dragging him toward the food court. The scent of coffee hit him like a taunt; his jaw tightened. "Almost," she said, stroking the leash teasingly. "But not yet." His breath hitched—she could see the struggle in the way his fingers flexed, the way his throat worked as he fought to stay still for her. She loved watching him unravel. And she wasn’t done.

Focus on the sensations Have her buy him a coffee and sit at at table, he must finish his drink before they can move on

She guided him to a café table, the leash still taut in her grip, and pressed him into a chair. "Sit," she purred, running her nails lightly down his thigh before turning toward the counter. He watched her order—watched the barista pour steaming black coffee into a cup too large for comfort. She returned, setting the drink in front of him with a slow, deliberate smile. "All of it," she murmured, tracing the rim with one finger. His pulse jumped as heat radiated from the cup, the rich scent making his bladder throb. He wrapped trembling hands around it, the heat searing his palms, and took the first scalding sip. She crossed her legs, the sharp point of her stiletto brushing his shin. "Faster." His throat burned with every swallow, his cock twitching as the pressure inside him swelled. The leash tugged faintly with each squirm—her silent reminder that she owned every second of his torment.

Give the guy an inner monologue of how badly he needs to pee, his urge increaseing with every gulp. Have the woman be more subtle about how she does things but still in control

His thoughts splintered with each swallow—*too much, too fast*—but the heat in her stare locked him in place. The coffee burned his tongue, his throat, his gut, settling like molten lead between his hips. Every gulp sent a fresh wave of pressure radiating through him, his cock hard despite the tension coiling tighter in his abdomen. *Fuck. She’s going to break me.* Her foot pressed higher up his calf, slow and deliberate, the toe of her stiletto dragging just enough to make him shudder. His grip tightened on the cup, fingers trembling as he forced down another mouthful. The liquid sloshed inside him, relentless, and his thighs twitched under the table. She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "Good boy." Her fingers trailed over his wrist, featherlight, before pulling away—leaving him achingly aware of the leash still looped around her fingers, the weight of her control anchoring him. One more sip. His teeth clenched as the heat flared lower, desperate. She smiled. "Don’t stop now."

Have him finish his drink, her teasing him as he is starting to squirm with the need to pee. They move on to another shop to let the coffee take it's affect and waste more time to make him more desperate

He drained the last bitter drop, his throat raw, his bladder screaming. The empty cup clattered onto the table, his breath coming too fast. She tilted her head, watching the way his thighs pressed together—just for a second—before he forced them apart again. "Better hurry," she murmured, standing and looping the leash tighter around her wrist. "Next stop won’t wait." The walk was agony. Every jostle of the crowd, every step sent fresh pulses of need through him. Her pace was leisurely, deliberate, her heels clicking against the pavement while his breath hitched with every shift of his hips. Inside the boutique, she lingered over trinkets, running her fingers over silk scarves and silver jewelry just to watch him shift his weight. The air conditioning prickled his skin, his cock straining against his zipper, his balls tight. "Like this one?" she asked, holding up a slender silver chain. Her thumb stroked the links—slow, mocking—as his stomach clenched. He swallowed. "Please." She smirked. "Good things come to those who wait."

Have her do some more shopping, describing how badly he needs to pee with his bulging bladder and cock

--- She traced a fingertip along the edge of a lace corset on display, humming as she pretended to consider it. His breath came shallow, fingers flexing at his sides. The pressure was a live wire in his gut now, his cock thick and heavy against the seam of his pants, his bladder a taut, aching weight. "Too much padding," she mused, dropping the corset and moving to a rack of leather cuffs instead. She lifted one, testing the buckle with a deliberate *click*. His hips jerked involuntarily, and a sharp hiss escaped his teeth. "Problem?" she asked, not turning around. He gritted his jaw. "No." She smirked, sliding her palm along the inside of a thigh-high boot. The smooth leather creaked under her fingers. "You’re fidgeting." A hot throb pulsed through him, his cock twitching, his thighs trembling with the effort to stay still. The shop’s mirrors reflected his strained expression—jaw tight, lips parted, the flush creeping down his neck. She plucked a silk blindfold from a display, running the fabric between her fingers. "This could be fun." His stomach clenched. The need was a blade twisting deeper with every second, his balls drawn up tight, his piss-swelled bladder pressing mercilessly against his zipper. She turned, tilting her head. "You look *desperate*." He shuddered, his hips rolling forward just slightly—begging without words. She tucked the blindfold into her purse and clicked her tongue. "Patience," she murmured, dragging a nail down his chest as she passed. "We’re not done yet." The next rack was scarves. She touched every one. ---

Have her buy her things slowly, then head home. When they get home, he leaks at the thought of being able to use the bathroom and this makes her punish him by dragging him to the bedroom and pushing him onto the bed

Her fingers lingered on the scarves, tracing the hem of each with agonizing slowness. She glanced over her shoulder, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard—his cock visibly twitching against the confines of his pants, his bladder a desperate, swollen ache. Finally, she selected one—deep red silk—and draped it over her arm before moving to the counter. The glacial pace of the transaction was torture, each second stretching unbearably as he shifted from foot to foot, his breath uneven. Back outside, the walk home was worse. Every step sent a fresh jolt of urgency through him, his cock leaking, his balls tight. His fists clenched at his sides, thighs trembling with restraint. The moment the door closed behind them, a shuddering breath escaped him—relief so close. His hand flew to his zipper. "No." Her voice was sharp as she yanked the leash, dragging him toward the bedroom. His stomach dropped. A thin, uncontrolled dribble escaped him as she shoved him onto the bed. His thighs pressed together, his cock throbbing, piss burning at the tip. She palmed his straining bulge, squeezing just enough to make him whimper. "You don’t get to come *or* piss until I say."

Have her start doing foreplay and slowly teasing his cock and bladder, making him not sure what need is stronger. Have his thoughts at the needs play in his mind

She climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs, her fingers tracing the swollen outline of his cock through his pants. A fresh dribble escaped as she pressed her palm down—just enough pressure to make him gasp, his hips bucking involuntarily. *Fuck, fuck—need to piss, need to come—* Her nails scraped over the damp fabric, teasing the head of his cock where it strained against his zipper. His thoughts fractured—desperate for release, but unsure which one would break him first. The ache in his bladder was a white-hot throb, his cock leaking in frustrated pulses. She unzipped him slowly, just enough to free the flushed, leaking tip. A single fingertip swiped through the mess there, then pressed against his slit, making his thighs jerk. “So wet already,” she murmured. “But which one is it? You want to come? Or do you just want to piss yourself like a desperate little thing?” His breath hitched, torn between the two needs, his cock twitching as she played with the tip. Every touch sent another wave of urgency through him—his bladder screaming, his balls drawn tight with unreleased tension. She leaned down, her breath hot against his ear. “Beg.”

He begs for both and decides he will have to cum first before being allowed to pee. She rides him and tells him he mustn't piss inside of her or they will do a round 2 of this day tomorrow.

His voice cracked, ragged with need. “Please—*please*—let me come first… then I’ll piss wherever you want.” She smirked, sliding her fingers along his throbbing length, squeezing just below the head—a cruel, perfect pressure. “Better make it good, then.” In one motion, she stripped off her panties and sank onto him, her wet heat swallowing him whole. He choked back a groan, every nerve on fire—his cock engulfed, his bladder a searing ache beneath the pleasure. Her hips rolled, slow and deliberate, her nails digging into his chest. “Feel that?” She clenched around him, milking him deeper. “You hold it all in… or we do this *again* tomorrow.” His jaw locked, sweat beading his temples as he fought the dual urges. The pressure built, his balls tightening—but every thrust nudged his swollen bladder, threatening ruin. She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Come for me. Then let go.”

Have her edge him with her pussy until they both can't take it any more, have him him first and then her. Make it long and drawn out

Her movements turned torturously slow, lifting just enough to let the head of his cock catch at her entrance before sinking back down—each time denying him full friction, dragging out the ache. His hands fisted the sheets, his body trembling with restraint. The pressure in his bladder flared, his cock throbbing inside her, every shallow grind pushing him closer but never *there*. "Fuck—*fuck*—" His voice was raw. She smirked, rolling her hips in tight circles, letting him feel every slick ridge of her as she hovered on the edge of taking him deeper. "Not yet." Her breath hitched as she teased herself just as much, her clit brushing his pelvis with each motion. His hips jerked, but she pinned him down, riding him with excruciating control. His vision blurred—pleasure and desperation a dizzying cocktail. She clenched around him suddenly, her own moan breaking free. "Now. *Now*." He came with a shattered groan, his release pulsing into her as she fucked him through it, her own climax crashing hard—body clamping around him, milking him dry. Panting, she pressed a palm to his lower stomach. "Now *piss*."

Have his cock erupt inside of her, piss gushing out of her vagina as she cums a second time from the force and feeling of all that liquid. Have him come again from the relief of pissing after holding sooo long and have them cuddle in a puddle of their own pleasure, kissing as they intertwine with one another. Have them say they loved every second and they love eachother

His cock twitched violently inside her as another wave of release hit him—hot cum mixing with the desperate flood of piss now gushing from her stretched, trembling cunt. She cried out, body arching as the scalding rush sent her spiraling into a second orgasm, her walls fluttering around him in greedy pulses. "Fuck—yes—*oh god*—" Her voice cracked as warmth spilled down her thighs, soaking the sheets beneath them. He groaned, his whole body shuddering with relief, his spent cock still jerking weakly as the last of it emptied into her. She collapsed against him, slick skin pressed to slick skin, their mingled mess pooling between them. His arms tightened around her, lips finding hers in a slow, filthy kiss. "Every fucking second," he panted against her mouth. She laughed breathlessly, nipping his lower lip. "Every. Damn. One." Their legs tangled together in the wet heat, neither caring, neither wanting to pull away.

Her fingers traced lazy circles over his chest as they lay tangled in the afterglow, their bodies still humming from the intensity. His heartbeat thudded against her palm—steady, strong. "Love you," he murmured, voice rough but tender. His hand slid down her spine, pulling her tighter against him, sticky skin and all. She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. "Love you more." The words were soft, but the way she said them—like a secret, like a promise—made his chest ache. He tilted her chin up, meeting her gaze. "No fucking way." She grinned, shifting just enough to press her lips to his again, slow and sweet. Their legs stayed entwined, the mess between them nothing but warmth now, proof of what they’d shared. His thumb brushed her cheek. "Wouldn’t trade this for anything." She sighed, sinking into him. "Good. Because you’re stuck with me." He kissed her forehead, arms locking around her like he never planned to let go. And she didn’t mind one bit.