If this doesn’t sound like the start to some fun, I don’t know what is:

I cover the bed with a beach towel as a precaution. Mister sits on the bed and pushes my knees apart. “If it feels like you need to pee, just go with it,” he tells me. Without warning, he slaps my pussy hard with his open hand. It startles me, but I like it. My pussy instantly feels warm and tingly.

“Put some fingers in,” I suggest, suddenly wanting to be stuffed with cock.

“Nope, we’re doing it this way,” Mister says. “Brings the blood right to the surface, makes it more sensitive.”

The man sounds like he knows what he’s doing.

Thwack. Mister smacks me again and again. I feel a pressure building, my cunt is already wet and waiting. “Stop holding back,” he says. Thwack. “Shit, I’m gonna pee,” I moan. Mister smacks me harder and faster. I try to hold it in. “Let it go,” he orders. I can’t. It feels like I have to piss and I just can’t bring myself to go there.

Mister brings his face close to mine and grabs a handful of my hair. “Listen slut, I told you to squirt. Do it.” He hits between my legs with his free hand. “Do it, let it go,” he hisses between clenched teeth. As he yanks my hair harder, the pressure in my pussy hits critical mass. My whole body feels like it’s teetering on a precipice. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it all in. “Now,” Mister roars.

And letting go, sometimes, is what you need to be ordered to do.