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  1. I wrote this a while ago as the idea came into my head, and have tweaked it a little bit since. There is, I think, the possibility for a continuation, but it depends on inspiration, motivation, and whether anyone would even be interested in reading more. Read the tags for content warnings, and enjoy! Andi’s hand shook as he struggled with his keys. He stood walking in place, jaw clenched, and a small whimper of frustration escaped him before he managed to get the key in the lock of his front door. Once inside he threw down his bag, and left a trail of scarf, jacket, and boots as he raced towards the bathroom. He pulled the door shut on reflex even though he now lived alone. He hesitated, glancing at the toilet. He needed to go so badly he felt like he would burst, but after a brief moment’s consideration he stripped down to his boxer-briefs and turned towards the shower. Shifting his weight back and forth between his feet he wondered if he should take them off or not. In the end he left them on, and stepped into the shower. He stood there for a good while, occasionally moaning, whimpering and swearing, still shifting back and forth, rocking on the balls of his feet. He stuck a hand in between his legs and grabbed himself. He could feel that he was hard, but of course he was. ‘Shit,’ he murmured. ‘Shit, shit, fuck . . .’ He felt the pressure building, until he couldn’t think, could barely breathe, and he sobbed as he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and his urine began to flow down his legs, through his pants, splashing onto the tiles beneath his feet. ‘No! No . . .’ He sank to his knees, panting and sobbing, feeling the warm pee underneath him. He touched the front of his boxers, rubbed himself through the fabric, and a final spurt of urine soaked his hand. He grabbed one of his nipples between the fingers of his other hand, pinching, and kept stroking his sex until his sobs turned to groans of pleasure and he finally came. Sitting there, in a puddle of his own piss, he didn’t want to get up. Didn’t want to take his pants off, even though they were quickly becoming cold and uncomfortable. In the end, he did anyway. Andi had two secrets. One was this, his most shameful kink. That he liked to hold his pee in until he wet himself. That he got off on it. The other was that he was only a few months a ‘real’ boy. He’d been on T for a little over half a year. His voice had dropped. He had gotten hairier, his skin had changed, as had his body fat ratio. He had always been quite flat chested, though what little tits he had still bothered him, as did what was, or wasn’t, between his legs. He did have a dick, the clitoris having grown significantly. It was about an inch long now, about an inch and a half and much thicker while erect. He was proud of his dick. It couldn’t penetrate anyone, but then he had always preferred bottoming anyway. Still, he hated to think about it, to look at it. His vulva. He’d hoped his dick would grow bigger than this. It still might, of course, but a lot of the guys he’d spoken to said theirs grew most in the first six months on testosterone. Whether or not he’d have surgery at some point he hadn’t quite decided, but he really wanted to. Top surgery was a given, and he was already on a waiting list. Andi hadn’t had sex in a long time. Not since he started trying to pass. Well, not until recently, that is. Not until Ronan. Ronan, who had been his best friend for a long time, and who somehow took everything in stride. When they had first met, online, Andi’s transition had been in its infancy. He had only just started to accept that he was trans, and the first thing he had done was try to be a boy online. Ronan was the sort of person who inspired trust, so eventually Andi had told him everything. He had been completely cool with it. He hadn’t asked any weird or invasive questions. He had simply listened, and when Andi had asked if he was freaked out, he had written: Why? You’re the same person now that you were five minutes ago. You’re my friend. And I want you to be happy. Since that moment, Andi had shared his fears, his body dysphoria, what his doctors and therapists told him, and his hopes for the future with Ronan. And then, at some point, his fantasies and his kinks, and that was when their relationship had changed. They had talked about all of it, and then explored it in detail, first with a series of phone calls and Skype sessions, and then finally, a few weeks ago, in person. The fact that Ronan, who was gay, wanted to be with Andi almost served to make him feel more like a real man than the hormones could. But this last kink even Ronan didn’t know about, and he never ever would. If he ever found out . . . Andi was sure even Ronan couldn’t accept something like that. Who would? It was, objectively speaking, gross. Urine was not a natural part of sex. Of course, it wasn’t the urine itself that turned him on. It was the desperation, and the act of wetting himself. The shame of it. Shame and humiliation were already present in his and Ronan’s play. When they were together, Ronan had tied Andi up, spanked him, made him choke on his dick, and Andi had loved every second of it. The memory was enough to make him blush. Ronan was naturally dominating, and being submissive with him felt wonderfully freeding. This, though, this was different. Lately, Andi’s wetting fantasies had taken on a different form. He imagined not doing it alone. He imagined Ronan telling him when he could and couldn’t pee—much the same way he sometimes forbade him from touching himself without permission—refusing him access to the toilet until he was a shivering, desperate mess. He pictured Ronan making him wet himself on command, and sometimes he imagined Ronan fucking him while he was holding, fucking his arse until he couldn’t hold it in anymore and pissed. Then he would get disciplined with a spanking. He could never, ever tell Ronan what he was imagining. The whole thing had started back when his transition was in its infancy, pre-T. Back when he had begun trying to pass. At the time he had felt very uncomfortable with public bathrooms. He didn’t want to use the ladies’ room because he wasn’t a woman, but he felt like if he used the men’s room they would see straight through him. They would call his bluff, they wouldn’t see him as a real man. So whenever he was away from home, he refused to use the toilet. One evening he had been out for a drink with some good friends who called him Andi instead of Anna, and used the correct pronouns, and it had been a really good time. He had rather a lot of beer. He was quite used to holding his pee in by then, and could usually handle it, but it got a lot more difficult when he was drunk, and on his way home at two in the morning, it happened. He wet himself. It was dark, but there were some people about. Andi froze, completely mortified, hoping to God that no one would notice. It didn’t seem like anyone did, but he had never felt more embarrassed or terrible about himself. As soon as he could shut off the flow, which was easier said than done, he ran the rest of the way home and locked himself in the bathroom, sobbing. Not seeing any point in holding it in anymore, he let go and finished wetting himself on the bathroom floor. After pulling off his sopping wet jeans, he got in the shower and washed. He got off twice, went to bed, and got off again. The next morning he woke up wanting to do it all again. Thinking about that night (what he had since come to think of as his second awakening, the first having been when he accepted his true gender) still made him hard. Andi turned on the shower, washing the urine from his legs and the floor. He made the water as hot as he could take, and while he stood under it, began to stroke himself. He pictured Ronan while he did, and tentatively reached back, pushing a wet finger inside his arse. He moaned loudly, and a little bit of leftover pee trickled out. His fingers didn’t really feel like enough, though, and he stepped out of the shower and over to the bathroom cabinet. He had left his dildo there the last time he had got off. He found it along with some lube, and after slicking it up and stretching his hole a bit, got back in the shower and began to pump his arse with it. He moaned loudly, stroking his cock, and peed a bit more. It didn’t take him long to come. Andi cleaned himself up and got out of the shower. After towelling himself off he reached for his phone to check his messages, and the moment he touched it, it rang. Ronan’s picture filled the screen, and Andi instantly blushed. He only let it ring twice before answering. ‘Hi,’ he said, his voice a bit breathless. ‘Well, hello there, boy,’ said Ronan’s deep, silky voice. ‘You sound exactly the way I like you best,’ he purred. ‘Have you been naughty?’ Andi smiled. ‘Maybe . . .’ ‘Tell me,’ Ronan demanded. His tone of voice hadn’t changed, but it was a command nonetheless, and Andi felt a tugging sensation somewhere in the vicinity of his crotch. He may not like his XX-chromosome parts all that much, but they did give him the advantage (or disadvantage) of not being easily spent, and he immediately reached down to touch himself again, before stopping himself. ‘I just got out of the shower,’ he said. ‘I may have . . . Gotten off a few times.’ Ronan tutted. ‘Without me? I’m disappointed in you, Andi.’ ‘Guess you’ll have to punish me,’ said Andi quickly. Ronan chuckled softly. ‘If you’re so eager for punishment, boy, perhaps I should prepare some less pleasurable discipline. Silent contemplation, say.’ Andi whimpered involuntarily. ‘No? Well, I guess I do owe you a bit of a spanking. Too bad I can’t do it right now.’ Ronan sighed. ‘What are you doing?’ Andi asked. ‘Right now I’m stroking my cock, thinking of you all naked and wet in the shower.’ Andi let his hand wander down to his own dick and said, ‘Me too.’ ‘Uh-uh. Did I tell you you were allowed to touch yourself?’ Ronan asked, and Andi stopped immediately, but not before whining softly. ‘What’s that, boy? Are you complaining?’ ’N—no,’ Andi stammered. ‘Of course not.’ ‘Good. You can touch yourself when I tell you to.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ said Andi, obediently. ‘What were you doing before?’ Ronan asked him. Andi’s heart hammered in his chest. ‘Nothing, really. I was just in the shower, and then I . . . Touched myself.’ ‘How many times did you come?’ ‘Three . . . I think.’ ‘My naughty little Andi,’ said Ronan. ‘Whatever shall I do with you? It’s like you want to be punished.’ Andi swallowed, but said nothing. ‘Do you, boy? Do you want me to spank your arse raw?’ Andi moaned softly. ‘Tell me.’ Andi drew a breath, and it came out again ragged. When he spoke his voice was uneven. ‘If you want to. I’ve . . . I’ve been disobedient. I need discipline. Need to be . . . To be shamed.’ ‘You want me to shame you? To embarrass you?’ Ronan asked. Andi remained silent. His legs felt shaky. He was so turned on he could barely breathe, and he needed to pee again, too. ‘Tell me what would embarrass you most of all. What could I make you do that would be a true punishment?’ Andi spoke without thinking, without considering the consequences. It was a reflex, to answer Ronan truthfully. He couldn’t lie to him. ‘Make me piss myself.’ He covered his mouth, mortified. He had said it. What would happen now? ‘Oh?’ came Ronan’s voice. ‘Why, that’s new. What manner of kink is this?’ Andi bit his lip. ‘It’s . . . It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.’ ‘No, no, no,’ Ronan purred. ‘None of that, boy. Tell me.’ Swallowing a couple of times, Andi considered his words carefully before speaking. ‘Sometimes I . . . I like to hold it until I’m fit to burst. Getting all desperate like that . . . It, er . . . It really turns me on.’ His face felt hot, and he was stammering quite a bit. At the same time he felt more aroused than ever. Embarrassing himself like this, telling Ronan his most secret of secrets, he could almost come without even touching himself. ‘Sometimes I . . . I hold it until I wet myself, and then I get off.’ The last bit nearly turned into word salad, but Ronan seemed to catch it all the same. ‘Then I feel embarrassed, and ashamed . . .’ ‘Mmm . . . Well, I do like you desperate. I could forbid you from going to the toilet. And then, if you do wet yourself, I’d have to discipline you.’ ‘Oh God,’ Andi whimpered. ‘Please . . .’ ‘Please what?’ ‘Please, sir, may I come?’ ‘Hm, not sure you’ve earned it yet. You’ve been holding back on me, after all. Not telling me about this . . . How long have you been doing it?’ Andi swallowed. ‘Since . . . since before I started on T. Back when I started trying to pass.’ ‘And here I thought you had told me all about your fantasies, and it turns out you’ve got this squirrelled away. I’m disappointed in you, Andi.’ There was amusement in Ronan’s stern voice. ‘I’m sorry,’ Andi mumbled. ‘I . . . It was embarrassing. I thought maybe . . . maybe you wouldn’t like me anymore, if I told you. That you wouldn’t want to . . .’ ‘That I wouldn’t want to fuck you anymore?’ Ronan chuckled. ‘You’re an idiot, my little Andi. The thought of you all desperate like that, of you pissing yourself and feeling mortified about it . . . Mmm, that really turns me on.’ His voice sounded a little breathless. Andi licked his lips. ‘Ronan . . . Sir . . .’ ‘All right. Since you’ve given me so many fun things to think about, I’ll let you come, boy.’ Andi’s hand immediately went down to his crotch and he began to stroke himself. ‘Fuck . . . I’m so horny right now, I can’t even—I’m gonna—’ ‘So eager. Slow down, boy. That’s it.’ Andi did as he was asked, slowed the movement of his fingers, but he still felt so close. ‘How’s it feel?’ Ronan breathed. ‘Feels good,’ Andi moaned. ‘God . . . Wish you were here, fucking me.’ The sound Ronan made was more like a growl than anything else. ‘So do I, boy. So do I. But until I am, this will have to do.’ ‘Mhm . . .’ Andi felt breathless. ‘Fuck . . . Ronan, please . . .’ ‘Go on then. You can come.’ Andi picked up the pace. His thighs quivered, and he could barely remain standing, unable to support himself with his other hand since he was on the phone. ‘Oh, fuck! Ah!’ He came, but kept stroking, and not long after he came again. He dropped to his knees, hand still working. ‘Fuck, you sound so good, Andi. Keep this up, I’m gonna come, too. Think you’ve got another one in you?’ ‘Yeah.’ Andi kept going, eyes slipping shut. ‘I can . . . fuck! Shit . . . I need to . . .’ He hesitated, face feeling hot. ‘I need to pee.’ ‘I see. Tell you what. When you come, you can pee.’ ‘Mmh . . . Yes, sir.’ Andi stroked himself faster, getting closer and closer. ‘Ronan . . . Ronan, I’m gonna come again!’ ‘Mm, go ahead. Let me hear you. I’m so close, I’m gonna come, too. Wish I could come in your mouth. All over your face.’ That was all it took, and Andi gave a loud shout as he came a third time. He was forced to stop touching himself, as he was too sensitive to continue, and then he pissed again, letting out a moan of relief. On the other end of the line, he heard Ronan swear, and groan, voice gaining in pitch as he finally came. Andi loved listening to Ronan coming. He loved listening to Ronan, period. ‘How are you feeling?’ asked Ronan softly. ‘Good. I feel . . .’ Andi gave a breathless laugh. ‘I feel good. Thanks. Fuck . . .’ Ronan laughed as well. ‘You always sound so good, boy. Can’t wait to see you again.’ ‘You’re still coming next weekend, right?’ ‘Of course I am. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Andi. You won’t be able to walk.’ Andi whimpered. If he gave himself a few minutes, he’d be ready for another three or four orgasms, he was sure of it. His libido had already been high pre-T. Testosterone did not serve to soften it. Still, best not push his luck. As much as he loved and accepted Ronan’s discipline, there could be too much of a good thing. He cleared his throat. ‘Can’t wait.’ ‘I don’t want you to touch yourself until then, boy. Is that clear?’ Andi gave another soft whimper. ‘Yes . . . yes, sir.’ ‘Good boy. I’ll see you soon enough.’ ‘Yeah. See ya. Thank you, sir.’ They hung up, and Andi stepped back into the shower for another rinse.
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