I need to barge into the room like I own it just when he's about to go take a bathroom break, slam the door open so hard he jumps a little and when he turns to face me, I see a little bit of darkness on the front of his pants. At first, I'm not sure if it's the lighting or what I hope it is, but then he turns at a different angle and the darkness is still in the exact same place.
He got so scared he peed a little.
I wonder, can I get more out of him?
Now that his bladder's tasted relief, it's not going to give up until it gets what it wants. He tries not to let me see how much worse the urge has gotten now that he's started, how he needs to keep his thighs closed just to not flood his clothes, but I'm observant. I notice.
I get all up in his personal space. Back him into the wall. Then I slam my hand just an inch from his ear. He squeezes his eyes shut, whimpers. His thighs tremble. Some more escapes his control.
I grab his chin between my thumb and index finger and force him to look at me.
"What's up? Are you scared of me?"
He's clenching with all his might, and yet he's dripping in his pants like a broken faucet. He can't fight me off or he's gonna have an accident.
I put my palm on his crotch.
He jumps at the unexpected sensation. A big leak warms my hand. His legs try to close around my fingers.
"Aww, are you gonna wet your pants?*
He doesn't say a word. His eyes are watering, his breath hitches, but he looks me dead in the eyes, tries so hard to be defiant.
I squeeze. He gasps, leaks again. Strong at first, then weaker, then just a few drops here and there. It takes him several seconds to stop himself. He's soaked by now, the wet lines reaching down to his ankles, it's even started pooling on the floor.
I use the heel of my hand to press his bladder. Finally, he completely loses control. His piss comes out hissing, running down his legs and my hand. It drips onto the floor, adds to the puddle at his feet. He breaks eye contact. He looks up, down, left, right, anywhere except my face, his cheeks burn, his eyes water, and yet it feels so good to finally go. Are his legs shaking from relief or fear?
When he's done, I remove my hand from his dick, shake off most of the pee still on it and wipe the rest on him. And if he falls to his knees in his own puddle sobbing once I've left, well that's really not my problem anymore, is it?