[Part four - this time bringing in some male desperation and wetting as well as, of course, Sarah exploring her growing fetish]
Grinding Hog Day +3
Sarah woke late, feeling the comfortable fuzziness of someone at peace with the world, having had the best night’s sleep ever. Late that is for her normal schedule, but since her live broadcast was only on the late evening show, with a 6pm production meeting that wasn’t an issue.
The only thing on her mind at that particular moment, apart from being warm and cosy, was her full morning bladder. Sarah dozed for another fifteen minutes before she decided enough was enough, threw back her cosy duvet and stepped onto her thick bedroom carpet. She padded over to the bathroom, enjoying the feeling of her short satin nightwear brushing against her breasts and curvy bum, her nipples immediately standing up.
On a whim, instead of sitting down on the toilet as normal, Sarah stepped into the bath, sitting down on the end and parting her knees. Looking down she had a clear view of her blonde curls, which she parted to reveal a neat slit. As she relaxed, she felt the first gentle trickle push through her pussy lips, then watched it running down the bath to form a warm golden coloured puddle around her feet.
Sarah breathed deeply, why had this simple act - peeing, pissing, having a slash, wetting her whistle, tinkling, wee-weeing, going pee-pee - never felt this good before?
Instinctively Sarah used both hands to press her silk nightshirt onto her pubic mound, holding her bladder in for a few seconds, feeling blond curls again through her fingers and then relaxing, feeling the wetness spread through the fabric onto her hands just like she had two nights previously.
Sarah had never felt herself this aroused before, certainly not by the act of peeing. She’d certainly not considered anyone wetting themselves, let alone herself, to be anything of a turn-on. Now though something had changed. And this strange repeating Grinding Hod Day phenomenon meant Sarah was free to explore it with minimum risk of any negative feedback.
The rest of the day Sarah had devoted to ‘her time’, which varied between gently pampering herself, right up to making full use of her bottom drawer toy cupboard. Thoughts of this strange time warp situation were never far from her mind and soon Sarah turned her attention to going back into the office and preparing for the night’s broadcast.
The evening’s production meeting followed it’s same pattern, the same well worn innuendo laden comments as every night, the same put down about her wardrobe choices. To be fair, tonight’s choice was a little understated to the observer anyway - tight black denim jeans and a nice top.
In the van Sarah finished her second coffee of the night, and as always traffic had ground to a halt. Chris put his mobile down.
“Pile up just ahead, we’re just about there though. So Saz, the gallery have said we’ll be pretty much on air as soon as we get there. Game head on?”
Then as if scripted Pete chipped in “Anyway, you’ll be wanting to get this one done pretty quickly. How’s your coffee by the way?”
With that both of the guys looked at each other like over excited schoolboys and tried to suppress giggles.
“You know how much I love my coffee” Sarah replied “It’s so good of you to keep me refreshed.”
With that the two calmed down, and Sarah smiled to herself. It was about time they got a taste of their own medicine. Three nights on the run now they’d put a diuretic in her drink and she had a feeling that couldn’t be healthy. This time around Sarah had decided to turn the tables, it had been as easy as anything to swap cups whilst they were loading up. Now Sarah was waiting and watching.
They reached the venue, parking the broadcast van in its exact spot as usual in the alleyway to the side. The guys followed their routing starting to unload and setting up tripod, broadcast camera, lighting panel, sound boom and getting the uplink activated.
Tonight Sarah wasn’t nursing her desperate bladder so much. Sure she’d taken fluids on board, but then she wasn’t anywhere near the state of the last three nights. She had time to keep a close eye on her two crew - after all she wasn’t actually sure which of them had taken the laced coffee.
Whilst they were bustling about it was hard to tell, but once the equipment was all in place and they were waiting for the uplink and the studio handover then it became more apparent. Sarah watched with a bit of smugness as Pete her cameraman shifted his weight from foot to foot, shuffling slightly uncomfortably.
A few minutes passed and as the seconds ticked by Sarah’s assumption was confirmed. Chris the sound engineer looked his normal self, but Pete was definitely showing signs of needing to pee. Sarah for a brief moment felt a little sorry for him, but then she thought that this was payback time - the last three nights it had been her suffering for their fun. Now it was his turn, and with the Grinding Hog effect whatever happened, the clock would reset at midnight anyway.
Not only that but Sarah’s mind played over the desperation she’d felt, ignoring the discomfort she analysed the feelings of fullness, the moment of release, the hot comforting flood on her bum, legs and all around her lady parts. She imagined Pete pulling out his cock and spraying the pavement in front of him and the visual mind’s eye picture gave Sarah a familiar tingle. Maybe this would be more that just a get even she thought.
A couple of minutes passed and Pete was really showing the need to pee. One hand in his light blue jeans pocket and lots of pacing going on - then there was a crackle in her earpiece and Sarah heard Chris’ voice:
“Ok Saz, just got word from the studio is our three minute count-in, normal intro and piece, then just hold static for questions from the studio”
“All Right” replied Sarah, a slight smugness and a tease in her voice tonight. “I’m just wondering if we should have had a comfort break, does anyone else need the loo”
“Erm, negative - there isn’t time. You’ll just have to hold it. Anyway, you look sexy when you’re desperate.”
Sarah smiled to herself as she looked at Pete - ‘I’m not the only one looking sexy’.
“Well, then - holding it is” laughed Sarah in reply.
“Ooh, no need to get your knickers in a twist, unless you’re trying to wring them out of course.”
Chris’ voice in her earpiece gave her the countdown. “And live in five, four, three…. “
Then as she did each night, Sarah heard her earpiece audio switch to the studio, applause dying away and Tony the show’s host introducing her live report from The Grinding Hog. Time again for the million dollar smile to camera and the glamour - at least tonight it wasn’t her fighting to avoid wetting herself.
That was no exaggeration either, Sarah delivered her intro, smiling straight into the camera lens but behind the camera she was aware of Pete who still had one hand firmly wedged in his jeans pocket. She could only really see his movement in her peripheral vision, but there was definitely movement.
Fortunately for Pete his outside broadcast camera was on a tripod for this segment, and he was almost jumping from foot to foot behind it, squirming and bending his knees. The cold night air probably wasn’t helping him either. Finally Sarah got through her intro and piece, as always the ribbon cutting went like clockwork, then Chris’ voice in her ear asking her to go down the line and interview a few clients.
That meant Chris releasing the camera from its tripod and hoisting it onto his shoulder, which in turn meant he had to use two hands to operate the focus and zoom rings. Not only that but Pete knew full well that any slight body movement would be magnified as jolting in the resulting broadcast picture and that wouldn’t be tolerated.
Sarah followed the pattern of every night, walking over to the uncouth lady at the front of the crowd, voicing her question to her and then quickly cutting away. As Sarah went through the same routine she had a couple of moments when she could glance at the scene behind the camera.
Pete was definitely in trouble, she could see was bending forwards slightly, he had his thighs and knees squeezed hard together, one foot slightly in front of the other for stability, but Sarah could see the tension on his face. She half wondered again whether she should feel sorry for him. She realised she’d never really seen a guy in desperation before, she’d always imagined it was sort of a girl thing. Did it feel the same for a guy, was it the same muscles he’d be desperately clenching to hold back the flood? Usually a guy would just piss against a wall or something, but what if he couldn’t? It wasn’t really anything she’d considered before.
Then predictably it was time for Sarah to sign off . Sarah heard the audience applause through her earpiece, but knew she wasn’t off air yet, so it was beaming smiles for a little longer. It may only have been five seconds or so that Pete had to keep the camera trained on her, and it was five seconds of him having to hold statue-still. Five seconds that were just more than his diuretically challenged bladder could take.
In her peripheral vision Sarah saw a sudden darker patch appear on the front of Pete’s pale jeans and saw him jolt. She hadn’t really thought about it, but of course the wet patch appeared off to one side, level with his zip but almost to the pocket. For a moment Pete seemed to have regained control, but only for a moment which couldn’t have been more than a second or so. Still out of the corner of her eye Sarah saw the dark patch start to grow.
A fraction of a second later the red light on Pete’s camera went off, the feed had finished and Sarah’s eye’s immediately dropped to Pete’s crotch. The initial wet spot on the side of his groin, obviously where the tip of his dick was lying in his pants was now the epicentre of a growing wet patch which followed the creases in his jeans, spreading back to his crotch and down the inside of both legs. Sarah watched open mouthed as the whole of the front of his jeans darkened and glistened along with the inside of both thighs pretty much right down to his ankles.
Throughout all of this Pete just stood motionless, sort of letting it happen. After all, the damage had been done, there wasn’t anything more he could do. Finally it was over. Pete didn’t say a word, just turned and walked back to the van with the equipment.
As always, the journey back to the media centre was tense, understandably of course. Pete didn’t say a word and a little surprisingly neither did Chris. Maybe he didn’t dare.
As for Sarah, she was lost in a fantasy world imagining a naked man, not Pete of course, but a beef hunk pin up, like the Grinding Hog guys, standing in front of her, pants around his ankles, large cock in hand, pissing a golden arc onto the ground in front of him. Maybe even letting Sarah stroke his cock and gently tickle his balls as he did so.
Before she knew it Sarah was back at her apartment, her own bladder now making its presence felt in a very pleasurable way and her mind racing with thoughts of well endowed masculine peeing. Sarah reached a bottle of wine out of the fridge, pouring herself a large glass and gulping it down, before refilling it. Sarah’s mind was racing over events of that evening and the wine soon begin to hit the spot, a gentle fuzziness helping fuel her fantasies.
Sarah couldn’t remember ever being more turned on, it wasn’t just the fact she’d watched a man piss himself - was it a control thing? That she’d made him do it? Was that it? Certainly she liked to be in control, it came with the job to an extent of course. Perhaps the fact that she’d suddenly over the last few days found herself enjoying the whole desperation and relief thing, perhaps that was it. Talking of desperation and relief, Sarah realised she was very much at that point. ‘What to do?’ She thought.
After the last few days a simple wee on the loo would be far too mundane. Walking into the bedroom Sarah noticed her bottom ‘toy’ drawer still open from the morning’s play. The rest of the night… well maybe that’s a story for another time.