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Caught Red Handed


Guest Orange

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Groggy, I slowly wake from our mid-afternoon Friday nap. It’s dark in our room. Is it morning already? It
takes a few seconds to remember where I am and that it’s actually just the evening. Napping at your house
always throws me off. I roll over to put my arm around you, anticipating the softness of your skin and your
lovely, long hair, but you aren’t there.


“Did she really get up before me? It’s awful quiet in here.” I think to myself.


I sigh and get up, switching the light on. I find a note on your pillow that you left for me. Turns out you
snuck out to grab dinner, and of course, will be back shortly. I have no idea when you wrote it, but I assume
it couldn’t be that long ago.


I decide to get dressed, which really just means to put my jeans back on over my usual sleep-time attire of a tshirt
and a cute pair of underwear. The dampness of my underwear and the snugness of my jeans reminds me
of how they got so wet in the first place. It was all your fault. We spent forever kissing and teasing each other
before we fell asleep.

My mind wanders as I fondly recall the feeling of your soft body pressed up against me,
you grinding your cute little panties against my erection while my lips slowly crawled across your neck.
You were moaning softly in my ear, your arms wrapped around me. You were grinding me so slowly and
rhythmically. It was driving me nuts, especially since you were so wet. I couldn’t see your panties, but I could
feel they were soaked. It felt so warm and erotic, soaking through until it was all over my briefs, until you
finally cummed and passed out in my arms.


My erection grew as I slowly touched through my underwear, remembering the way you felt. It was driving
me nuts knowing that I was still wet from your pussy.


As I glanced around the room, something caught my eye. Next to your clothes hamper… could it be? It was
the panties you were wearing. Cute little silky, black bikinis crumpled into a ball. It looks like you missed the
basket when you threw them after you got changed before leaving.
My hands were trembling as I picked them up, adrenaline coursing through my body. They were so soft. It
almost felt electric holding them, knowing you had them clinging to your cute body all day, knowing that they
were so wet. I’d always had a panty fetish, and making you soak yours while we made out always drove me
crazy…


My heart was pounding as I slowly uncrumpled them. Feeling the soft fabric in my hands… just how dirty
were they? I slowly exposed the crotch, revealing a thick, white stain across the cotton gusset that extended
ever so slightly onto the cute lace trim. You were so wet it was ridiculous, so wet it was turning me on to the
point of absurdity.


They were still damp and I could faintly smell your sweet scent while I was holding them. Having your worn
panties in my hand felt like the most arousing thing ever. I laid back on the bed, unzipped my jeans, and slid
my hand down the front, caressing my hardon with renewed vigor, moaning softly. I was so wet with precum
it felt like I had orgasmed. I could barely take it anymore. Having your dirty panties in my hands was so hot…
I had to smell them. I wanted to smell and taste you so badly.


I slowly put them up to my face until they were touching. The sticky, damp crotch against my nose and lips, I
slowly inhaled while slowly touching through my underwear. You smelled so good, so erotic, so intense. I was
quickly over sensitive and barely stopped touching in time, gushing wetness all over my briefs. 


I knew I had to stop soon. I would cum for sure otherwise, and you were bound to be home any minute. But
having to stop and wanting to stop were, of course, two different things. With your little panties against my
face, I was too busy, lost in arousal…


“Just what are you doing?” Your words sent a sharp jolt through my body. Why didn’t I hear you come in?
“Uhhhh..” I stammered as I tried in obvious vain to hide your panties, zip up my jeans, and pretend like
nothing was happening.


“You asshole” you scorned, “I leave the house for a half hour and come back to find you with my panties on
your face while you’re giving yourself a rub.”


You crawl on top of me, throwing one leg over my waist, pinning me down with your hips, your hands
clasping my wrists, pressing them against the bed. I notice your face is a little blushy and your eyes are
burning. I can see the faint outline of your hard nipples through your shirt, your breath noticeably heavier.
You’re mad at me, but you find it arousing too.


I struggle against your restraint, trying to get free. “Just give up. You’re in enough trouble already” you say.
“It’s only Friday night, and it’s a long weekend. You should probably cancel your plans, because you’re
definitely not getting out of here any time soon.”


“W-what are you talking about…” I stammer


“Well, if you’re going to go through my dirty laundry without permission, you’re going to have to face the
consequences. If I hadn’t have come home when I did, you would have been finished and pretended like
nothing happened. I’m sure you weren’t planning on telling me you had my dirty panties against your face.”
“I… I’m sorry” I plead “It wasn’t like I was going through the basket. They were just laying next to it, and
when I found them it was turning me on so much, I couldn’t resist.”


“Please, you have to let me go.”


“There’s no way I’m letting you go” you whisper as you rock back and forth slowly against me while I’m
pinned down. “Those are my panties and how wet they are is my secret. You can’t just take them whenever
you want, so, you have to pay. You have to be my slave all weekend.”


I groan in dreaded anticipation of what’s coming, almost feeling a sense of panic. “Please, you have to give
me a chance.”


“A chance?” you grin mischievously. “Okay, fine. But you won’t like it.”


“Fine, fine. I’ll do anything.” I gasp


“Let’s go to the kitchen then” you say, releasing your grip on my arms as you slowly slide off my body.
“I picked up some beer for you while I was getting dinner” you remark as you hand me one, smiling sweetly.
“I’ve decided you can drink them as your chance.”


“Drink them?” I think to myself. “There’s no way it’s as simple as that.”


“So what’s the catch?” I ask.


You laugh. “Well, the catch is… you’re not allowed to go to the bathroom until an hour after you finish all of
them.”


My heart pounds as I process what you said. 6 beers is a ton to drink… and a ton to have to hold.
“What if I can’t wait that long?” I ask.


“Well, whether you can wait or not doesn’t matter. You aren’t going to the bathroom until your time is up, so
if you can’t hold it…”


“Then I guess you’ll be a very humiliated slave, won’t you?”


“You said you wanted a chance. I told you that you wouldn’t like it” you giggle.


“Fine. It’s a deal” I reluctantly agree, knowing I have no choice.


**
We’re sitting on the couch, watching a movie when I finish the fourth beer. My bladder feels terribly full and
I know it’s still filling. Beer always goes right through me. I’m squirming as discreetly as I can while I struggle
with the surging, ever growing pressure. I don’t want to let on how much I have to pee


“What’s the matter?” you ask. “You look like you’re going to pee your pants already but you’ve still got two
more to drink.”


“Shut up. I’m fine and I’ll be fine.” I say through gritted teeth.


“Maybe I should tickle you.” You quip. “Maybe you should put your hands in warm water and we’ll see if
you’ll ‘be fine’”


**
I finish the last beer conveniently as our movie ends. I can barely sit still and I know I still have an hour to try
to keep my pants dry while my bladder continues to fill. It feels so impossible to make it, but there’s no way I
can give you the satisfaction of beating me so badly on top of having to be your slave.


“Oh, you’re finished.” You smile. “Good. Now you’ve only got to last another hour without pissing yourself
and you’re home free.”


“Stop saying that! I am not going to pee my pants.” I reply, trying to maintain confidence.
“Oh? Well, stand up, I have a surprise for you anyway.”


I reluctantly stand as I find myself bending at the knees, trembling, and awkwardly squirming as the pressure
in my bladder thrashes, producing the occasional spasm.


You laugh as you watch me squirm. “You sure don’t look like you’re going to make it.”
“Close your eyes and put your hands behind your back.” You command. 


I groan, but quickly put my hands behind my back, hoping the torment will stop soon. I feel your hands on
my wrists as your lips inch closer and closer to my neck, your breath and the anticipation sending shivers
through my already sensitive body.


You tie my hands tightly behind my back. I struggle against the restraints, hoping they’ll be loose enough that
I can get out of them if I want to, but alas, they are firmly tied.


“You are so screwed right now, you have no idea.” You say, laughing. “There’s still another 40 minutes of
holding ahead of us. How should we spend the time?”


“I think I have a good idea for what you can do…”


You pull me towards your chair, making me stop in front of you. “Since my panties turn you on so much, I
thought it was only fair that I got to have some fun with it.”


You stand in front of me and slowly unbutton your jeans, teasingly taking your time undoing the zipper,
revealing… the same dirty, black, silky panties. You had slipped them on when you went to use the
washroom during the movie, planning to have your way with me afterwards.


You slowly slide your jeans down your thighs, to your ankles and slip them off before sitting in your chair.
You motion for me to kneel down, and I do. You slowly and teasingly throw one of your long legs over my
shoulder, and then the other. “I’ve decided this is how you can spend your last half hour. You can start at my
knees and slowly work your way up. Try not to squirm too badly, my soon-to-be slave.”


As my lips start crawling up your bare thighs, gently plucking your skin with my kisses, I hear you start to
moan softly. Your moans, as lovely as they are, are no consolation for my terrible desperation. I’m squirming
constantly, unable to stay still, while the eroticness of knowing what you’re doing is intoxicating my already
buzzed mind and body even further.


I’m so, so desperate, struggling to hold on just a little longer, all the while my lips move closer and closer to
your panties. You spread your legs slightly as you gasp, and I see that the crotch is showing glistening, fresh
dampness. The sweet smell of your pussy is leading my lips closer and closer.


My bladder is spasming harder and harder. The more I can smell you, the closer I get to losing control. I feel
your hands softly grab the back of my head as you pull me closer and closer, until my lips are pressed firmly
between your legs, against the outside of your panties.


My lips slowly close around your clit as I suck gently, tasting you. I feel your thighs clamped around my face
as your back arches in your chair. Your moaning sounds so hot, almost as hot as the goosebumps all over
your legs look. I can’t believe I’m in this predicament, tied up and trapped, on the edge of pissing my pants
while you’re grinding my face…


The feeling of the wet fabric on my face with your warmth and grinding makes me moan. Your scent is
intensely arousing, so much so that I lose focus on trying to hold it for a few seconds. A huge spasm tears
through my body. Shivering and struggling, I know I won’t be able to stop it.


You hear me groan loudly, muffled from my face being between your legs as I stop squirming for a few
seconds. A huge stain is spreading over the crotch of my jeans, slowly trickling down my thighs as I almost 
die trying to get it under control. I can feel the heat and the warm, spreading wetness, and realize what
happened.


I try not to let you on to it by deepening the passion that I’m kissing your clit with, but you heard my long,
drawn out gasp and know what it meant. “What’s the matter? Sounds like you’re my slave now” you tease.
You slide your legs off my back and lean forward, looking down at me, seeing the impossible to hide evidence
of my losing the challenge.


“You lose, loser.” You mock. “Now you’re my slave. My poor, humiliated little slave. I hope smelling my
panties was worth it.”


“Well, there’s no reason to untie you now, is there?” You smile as you lean forward and slowly slide your
panties down your thighs, dropping them at your feet. “You can finish what you started now. Once your
tongue is inside, you can stop holding and finish pissing your pants, slave.”


“Y-yes Mistress.” I say defeatedly as your hands slowly guide my face back up your inner thighs before
pressing it firmly against your pussy.


“Tongue inside, Slave” you command.


My tongue slowly penetrates your swollen, soaking lips. You taste so good and smell so good. I love listening
to your moans as I feel your pussy spasm against my tongue while my lips slowly knead your clit. You’re
grinding and grinding, crushing the side of my head with your thighs as your wetness soaks my face.


“Finish pissing your pants now, Slave” you again command.


My tongue and lips’ rhythm slows as I relax my bladder, the flow slowly exploding hotly over my crotch and
down my legs, staining my jeans terribly. I’m blushing red and feel so humiliated, but so relieved. I can’t
believe I’m stuck like this, tied up, as your slave.


But there’s nothing I can do as I feel your body tense as your thighs press against my face, your fingers grip
my hair, your pussy contracts against my tongue, and I hear your long, protracted moaning escape as your
wetness surges over my tongue and my lips for what seems like forever, all until you finally relax and slump
back in your chair, releasing your grip. 

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