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female An Indecent Proposal


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  • 2 weeks later...
CHAPTER 2
"You know, it's funny," Amanda said condescendingly. "I really would have thought wetting your pants at work would be a severely career-limiting move, but it seems to have worked out well for you today."
 
"Maybe you should try it sometime," I deadpanned.
 
"Umm, no," she dismissed with a disgusted chuckle. "I must say, I do admire your commitment. It's what ... seven o'clock? And you haven't even bothered to change your clothes after this afternoon's accident."
 
"Well, my boyfriend couldn't get away from work to bring me any spare clothes," I explained with forced restraint, "and John wanted me to begin working with you on this presentation right away."
 
"I guess that would be an unusual request," Amanda said with a mocking smile. "I mean, can you even imagine taking a call from your adult girlfriend telling you that she peed in her pants and wants you to bring her a change of clothes? Maybe you should begin keeping some spare clothes in your desk. You know ... just in case this happens again."
 
I ran my fingers along the still clammy inseam of my thighs under the conference room table before discretely clamping my legs tightly together again and shifting my weight in my chair.
 
"Maybe I should," I admitted flatly while Amanda snickered.
 
I absolutely despised her, but I was even more pissed off at Mike. He had said he was too busy to leave work early today, but his pestering texts for pics of my soaked slacks and updates as to how everyone was reacting told a different story. 
 
I knew my man. Mike was no doubt LOVING the fact that he had caused me to piss in my pants at work today, but he was loving it even more that he was in a position to leave me stranded here and subject to complete humiliation.
 
I hated that there was a part of me that enjoyed his sadistic restrictions to my bathroom visits as much as he did. In fact, I still hadn't broken his instructions that I wasn't allowed to use the toilet all day without his permission. 
 
I was only five hours removed from nearly getting fired because I had wet myself a few feet away from an empty bathroom in front of all my co-workers because he told me to hold my pee just a little bit longer when I knew I couldn't. Now I was squirming desperately to contain a full bladder again in the same damp slacks. The toilets were still off limits for me.
 
"I think that should cover it for today," Amanda offered. "I imagine you just want to get home at this point."
 
"Yes, that would be nice," I admitted, more relieved by her suggestion than I let on. "Mike should be here soon to pick me up."
 
I stood up and immediately felt an icy chill envelop my ass. I'd been sitting on a plastic bag all afternoon, so the seat of my slacks was hadn't really dried from my accident.
 
As I walked to my desk to collect my things, I noticed that my heels were still making muted squishing sounds with every step I took. The insoles clearly hadn't dried much either with my feet being in them all day.
 
As I squelched to the elevator, I got Mike's text confirming he was waiting in the car out front for me. The privacy of the ride down to the ground floor allowed me to finally do a proper pee dance unobserved. My aching bladder rejoiced at the fleeting relief before I had to pull myself together and walk to my boyfriend's car with as much composure as a woman with pee stains running the length of her legs and squishy heels can muster.
 
Mike's leather passenger seat felt ice cold against my wet ass as I slid into it.
 
"I'm sorry you had an accident, babe," he said grinning ear to ear as he leaned in and slid his hand along my damp inner thigh. "I thought I'd take you out to dinner to make it up to you. There's a new brewpub everyone's been talking about that I thought we could try."
 
"Did you bring me a change of clothes?" I asked crossly, pushing his hand away.
 
"Sorry, I didn't have time," he said unconvincingly as he drove off, "but you're nearly dry anyway. I'm sure no one at the restaurant will notice."
 
"Just take me home," I said flatly, crossing my legs. "I don't feel like going out tonight."
 
"What's wrong?" he asked. "As I remember it this morning, you were as turned on by the idea of doing a hold as I was."
 
"That was before you made me drink all that water and told me I couldn't use the toilet all day," I replied. "It was also before I almost got fired for wetting my pants."
 
"I'm sorry you got into so much trouble," he offered. "I thought you were into that though. I mean, how many times have you had me pretend to be your boss and call you into my office to scold you for peeing yourself on the job?"
 
A spasm hit my bladder and I pressed my fingers into my cold, damp crotch while leaning forward in my seat. Mike grinned.
 
"Yeah well, that type thing was a lot more fun back in college when I could replace my job in a week," I admitted distractedly as I struggled to get my bladder under control. "I seriously need you to pull the car over."
 
"Why?" Mike asked smugly.
 
"You know why," I snapped.
 
"The restaurant is close," he assured me. "You can make it."
 
"I said I wasn't in the mood to go out," I insisted. "Besides, would I even be allowed to use the toilets there if I hold on that long?"
 
"Well, no," Mike admitted. 
 
"So, after the day you know that I've had, your idea of 'making it up to me' is to make me piss in my pants again waiting for a table at a brewpub?" I asked indignantly. 
 
"What's wrong with you today?" he asked. "This is normally our thing."
 
"You're not listening to me," I said crossly. "I don't feel like humiliating myself for you anymore today."
 
I felt a small spurt escape into my panties and decided to just give up fighting it. Mike was being a dick anyway, so screw his car seat! I gave a small push and quickly felt my around my fingers get warm and wet.
 
"Actually, you don't need to worry about pulling over," I said contentedly as piss began to audibly drip onto the plastic floor mats.
 
Mike quickly flipped on the interior lights. His eyes fixated on puddle momentarily forming in my lap as the pee gushed out of me faster than my saturated pants could soak it up. I tingled all over as I released all of my pent up urine and my legs finally felt warm again after hours of uncomfortable chill. 
 
"Keep your eyes on the road," I warned as the dripping turned into a steady flow. "We're going to get into an accident."
 
"You mean ANOTHER accident," he quipped.
 
I groaned. "You're in good spirits for someone who's going to spend a lot of time scrubbing out his car tonight," I said. "You can take me straight home now, please. You got the show I know you wanted."
 
"You're the one who had the accident, hon," he reminded. "If you can't control your bladder like a big girl, you know you need to clean up after yourself. I'm sure you can ask the hostess at the restaurant for some paper towels or something while we wait for our table."
 
"Like hell I will," I barked. "I told you I didn't feel like going out at all tonight. I'm definitely not going to degrade myself by playing your pathetic, accident-prone girlfriend squelching up to the hostess and begging for some napkins to sop up my pee puddle in the car. I'm not in the mood."
 
"What has gotten into you today?" Mike asked.
 
"I just want to go back to my place and be alone tonight," I repeated.
 
"Well, I had planned for us to go out to dinner," he said crossly. "You tease me all day texting me with the sexiest pee hold and wetting ever, and you won't even share it with me when I finally get to see you. You just leave me with blue balls and a puddle to clean up in my car."
 
"You're a selfish idiot."
 
"Well, I'm not driving you home," Mike said. "If you're going to act like a spoiled brat, you can walk."
 
"Fine," I said flatly.
 
Mike pulled the car over at a random stretch of sidewalk. I flung the door open and stepped out in my waterlogged heels before slamming the door behind me. The brisk evening air chilled my soaked legs.
 
He cracked the passenger window to yell, "Enjoy your pissy walk home!"
 
"Enjoy jerking off alone, asshole," I snapped back, flicking him off as he drove away. 
 
A couple walked past me as I watched his tail lights speed away. They avoided eye contact and walked noticeably faster as I glanced in their direction.
 
I took a deep breath and tried to calmly assess the situation. My grey slacks were two-tone and sopping wet again. Every inch of the back was soaked, and there were sizable wet patches in my lap and down my legs on the front. Thanks to this being my second wetting of the day, they were also more aromatic than usual. The acidic smell of pee burned my nostrils with every breath.
 
Even at night, I knew I wasn't going to be able to hide this with my purse well enough to slip into an Uber or cab unnoticed. I didn't really have any friends I felt comfortable with enough to call and admit that I wet my pants in public and needed a ride either. That was normally Mike's role.
 
I fished my phone out of my purse and mapped walking directions to my apartment--willfully ignoring the random creep shouting something about pissy pants at me as he slowly drove past honking his horn. The app was estimating a two hour walk.
 
I bent down and pulled off my left shoe. As I tipped it over to empty the excess piss so I didn't have to feel it sloshing around as I walked, I locked eyes with a brunette in a short dress. She was walking past me with two of her friends. They were clearly headed out for a night at the bars.
 
She gave me a disgusted glare as I finished pouring the last drops of urine out of my heel and slipped it back on my foot. I gave a resigned sigh before taking the first cold, squelchy steps of my long journey.
 
I couldn't really remember what was on this route, but with any luck, I hoped I could find someplace with a women's clothing department on the way. It occurred to me that I hadn't once bought myself an impromptu replacement outfit because of an accident since I'd started dating Mike. 
 
Pathetic as it was, the act of strategizing how I was going to get home to minimize my embarrassment again after wetting my pants felt empowering. For the first time in a while, I wasn't allowing myself to be shamefully paraded around because I knew the public humiliation would please my man. 
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