You know I have a love hate relationship with wedgies. They’re humiliating, but they make me so wet and needy.
Tell me if I want to get out of it, I need to go piss in the yard like a good little bitch, but it only counts if I’m in complete sunlight.
Watch as I awkwardly crawl into the middle of the yard, slowly, nervously, hearing the neighbors’ voices outside, unsure of exactly where they are.
Will they see me looking pathetic, my panties pulled high over my head? Are they going to see my degradation that is trying to piss through a massive wedgie? I’m torn between crying and air humping the panties that are wedged against my clit.
“Keep going,” you tell me, even though I can feel the sun on every inch of my exposed skin. Am I not far enough into the sunlight? “I said keep going… keep going. Okay, good enough. Now beg me to piss.”
I can feel my face turn red, the tears prick my eyes, mortified, internally begging you to keep your voice down in hopes the nosey neighbors won’t come look.
“Daddy, can I please piss?” I ask you, quietly.
“Oink for me first.”
I give you three oinks, and you laugh at me, “no, you dumb pig. Really oink- I want to hear you snort.”
I snort and squeal, too quietly for your liking.
“I know you can do better than that. Tell you what. You can piss, but now you need to snort or moo or bark the whole time you’re peeing. And if you stop making noises, you stop pissing. Am I clear?”
“Please, please, I don’t want-”
“Oh hi Jack! Tell the family we said hi!” You yelling over the fence to the neighbor while I’m in such a vulnerable position has me frozen in fear, until I hear a car door shut, and that particular neighbor drive away. “Well? Did you not need to piss anymore?” You ask me condescendingly.
The need to pee has overtaken my shame at this point, and I can’t hold it anymore. “Mooo. Moooooo. Mooo.”
“Louder, cow.”
“MOOOOO. MOOOOO. MOO.”
I can hear you laughing while I piss myself in the backyard, the stream getting everywhere. The wedgie doesn’t allow for a solid stream- it’s leaking down my thighs, soaking into the panties, creeping between my ass and up my back through the fabric.
This was the longest, most humiliating moment of my life. But it felt so good. The debasement, the embarrassment, the pathetic vulnerability was what I deserved.
And then it was over. And the shame hit- hard. I immediately reached up to pull the panties off my head.
“Absolutely not! You get two choices: you can either take them off and then roll around in your piss puddle, or you can leave them on and then turn to your right so you’re facing me. Then you can wave to the camera and say hi.”
Camera?! You never said you were filming this!
We should be filmed
