So bladder desperation? I can help but imaging Peter being fucked by Chris Argent, all hard and driping, and all the while he can stop thinking about his full bladder and the way it hurts sooo good when Chris find his prostate An idea, if you like it! ;-)

ooooooohhhh shiiiiiiieeeet son :O

Like he’s getting fucked on all fours like the slut he is because he can’t be bothered to put any more work into it than literally just kneeling there and getting his cunt stretched out by Argent’s dick. He probably even is too lazy to keep on his elbows for too long and soon lies with his shoulders against the mattress, ass up and ready for Argent to give it to him.

Argent is complaining about him being a lazy bitch but he’s not stopping, is he? he doesn’t seem to be too annoyed to deep dick Peter as roughly as he can, getting more and more frustrated with how passive and decadent Peter is.

And his bladder situation isn’t as dire right from the beginning, right? It just kind of starts slowly getting worse, especially with how hard he’s getting jostled from behind, Argent’s dick pressing down on his plump prostate.

He doesn’t tell Argent he needs to piss like a racehorse. Of course he doesn’t, because that would involve him getting up (which isn’t gonna happen, he’s not in the mood to move), and he also kind of likes how it feels; the slight pain from his full bladder and how desperate it gets to just let go.

I bet when he does, he doesn’t even warn Argent. He’ll sigh and arch his back down and just stops holding it in; his urine a hard, warm spray, and Argent’s confused and then disgusted grunt music in his ears.

Ok so I sent you some desperation anons, & im not sure how many of them actually sent before tumblr blocked them, so here’s the full set all together.  Hope you enjoy 🙂 

You wanted to talk about the desperation ideas in my last msg, so here. Sorry if its crap. 😛 My first thought is that maybe Jackson had been slightly late in getting to the lockers before the game and didnt have time to relieve himself of the coffee he had earlier in the day before Coach was rushing him out onto the field. He probably doesnt worry too much at first, planning to slip away during a break, but underestimated how much the movemnt required to play would effect his bladder. A couple different times Coach yells at him from the sidelines because he isnt focusing on the game. At some point he is distracted enough to not quite brace himself enough when he gets tackled by a player from the other team, and momentarily loses control of his bladder, his shorts quickly getting wet. He tries to stop the flow before any noticible damage is done, but the floodgates were opened, and all he can do is lay there for a few seconds as he continues to piss, not noticing Issac nearly trip over his own feet at the sudden smell of his piss. Perhaps he pretends to have gotten slightly hurt, so he can sit the rest of the game out in shame, not needing to look to know that his shorts couldnt have completely hid what he had done. Maybe he whispers something to the other wolfs on the team, telling them to play along with the injury, and not to say a word about what really happened. As some teammates help him over to the bench, he tries to listen to see how many people are talking in disgust about him, but is surprised when none are. Whats more surprising to him is that those that did notice, actually seem slightly aroused by it. He spends the rest of the game on the bench, and by the time the game is over, his shorts are almost completely dry. In thedays that follow, no one makes any comments about the incident, but that doesnt mean that a few people in town didnt think about it when they were jerking off.
For the second one, maybe the Sheriff was trying to escape paperwork when he suggested he and Deputy Parrish have speed trap duty. They probably got some coffee before parking themselves near the highway, taking turns at checking people’s speed throughout the day. They dont usually get too many people speeding, but its still good to be there to remind people to be careful. Perhaps they had brought small lunches with them, for no reason other than so they dont have to go back and do paperwork after eating, so they wouldnt have any reason to call for someone to take over for them. Not too long after eating their lunch, they both are starting to get somewhat desperate, and they both do their best to hide it from the other. They both spend a while considering their options, neither really wanting to leave, and both knowing that it probably wouldnt go well if someone saw them pissing beside the car. It doesnt take them long to start to desperately want to use the empty coffee cups to relieve themselves, but they dont want to do it in front of their partner. Eventually Parrish is the first to quietly ask if it would be ok for him to piss in his cup, John tells him to go ahead, stating that he will give him as much privacy as he can, so long as he returns the favor afterwards when he uses his own cup. John has to grip himself through his pants in order to keep himself from pissing when he hears Jordans stream begin to fill the cup. After a moment, Jordan is finished, and tucks himself back in, being careful not to spill the very full cup of urine, before opening his window and pouring it out. He then tells John that he can go ahead and piss, and looks away as he fumbles to open his cup and unzip at the same time. Soon the sound of pissing fills the patrol car again, seeming to last forever, before it abrubtly stops, and the Sherrif asks for the other cup so he can finish. Without looking, Jordan reaches out with one hand to take the full cup, and holds out the empty one with his other. As the stream starts up again, Jordan thinks about how he never really expected to be holding a cup full of his bosses urine, but now that he is, he almost cant help thinking of it in a somewhat sexual manner. He pushes away those thoughts quickly as John finally finishes pissing, and they empty both cups out the windows. The rest of their shift is probably pretty uneventful, and in the next few days if a copy or two of the dashcam audio get made, no one has to know.
For the third one, I feel like the pack finally convinced Derek to try dating again, and had set him up on a blind date, perhaps making the reservations at the restaurant that Issac works at, just to help him stay comfortable, and if Issac plans to give Derek spiked alcohol, thats just a bonus. Maybe Derek gets there slightly early, ordering a glass or two of wine while he waits. He obviously knows that Issac is spiking it, but it calms his nerves some, so he gladly accepts the occasional refills. After a while, with no sign of his date, the wine is starting to get to him, but he doesnt want to leave the table yet just in case his date shows up. He probably waves Issac over occasionally to refill his glass, not noticing the way each time he comes over, he smells slightly more aroused from Derek’s desperation. Perhaps after a while, it becomes obvious that the date probably wont be showing up, and he orders some food, barely waiting for Issac to return to the kitchen before rushing to the Restroom to get some much needed relief. And if Issac goes a little weak in the knees when he hears Derek’s groan of release, can anyone blame him?


it’s good that you submitted all of them again because a few did not make it into my inbox, actually!

oh goodie, I hadn’t expected someone to indulge me so much ❤ this is so gooooood. I especially love the first one with Jackson. I haven’t even thought about him wetting himself and that’s just too good omg. 

I want the pack to just mercilessly tease and humiliate him when they’re all alone with no outside world there. that little posh boy really needs it ❤

but also all the others. Sheriff pissing like a race horse ❤ Jordan totes turned on by it ❤ ❤ and of course Derek would be such a goober omg. I bet he even had his hands in his crotch like a little boy when he finally had the nerves to run to the bathroom.

ramifleiss
replied to your post “so I’ve been thinking a bit about watersports and bladder desperation……”

Chris wanting to pee and Josh locking the room just to watch him peeing himself… just sayin…

Josh didn’t take the chance to get ahead of Chris while he fumbled to the side to get something to drink only because he was so focused on how Chris drained the glass in sloppy sips, spilling a little down his chin in his haste to put it back down and shoot the red shell he’d been holding for half a lap and with Daisy’s name on it.

After the race, Josh carefully-casually reached to the side and filled Chris’ glass back up again. His own mouth felt dry with excitement.

.o.

“Dude, wait a sec, I gotta take a leak- Josh!” Chris quickly fell back down on his butt and took the controller back because Josh already queued up the next race, heart thumping.

.o.

He could get away with it exactly three more times before Chris didn’t care about his score anymore and really wanted to get out – only that he couldn’t.

“Why’s it locked? Where’s the key, dude?”

Josh could feel the tips of his ears burning even as he affected cool negligence. He leaned back and shrugged his shoulders, watching how Chris shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. It was giving him excited tingles in his belly and he hoped Chris didn’t see how he loved seeing his friend’s unease.

“No idea. You know my sisters think it’s funny to lock the door on us. Just wait until they get cold feet.”

Chris flushed a little. He looked nervous and unhappy but he nodded and stiffly sat back down. Josh could feel his balls throb as he watched how very carefully Chris sat down.

It only took another fifteen minutes until Chris stood back up again and tried the door once more, frustration in every line of his body.

“Fuck, dude, I gotta piss like a horse,” he whined, hands flexing into fists.

“Sorry, man. That sucks.”

Josh could feel his mouth dropping open a little as he saw Chris honest-to-god reach into his crotch and pressing his hands against his dick like that would make the desperation ease off.

“Come and play. To get your mind off it, okay?” He patted the ground next to him. There was no carpet where they were sitting and Josh wondered whether Chris had even noticed him dragging it and the low table to the side to make more room for them – for what he had planned.

Chris nodded, a fine sheen of perspiration on his upper lip, and sat back down.

He managed another half-hour, knees bouncing increasingly fast, and a little, desperate song whispered under his breath, until he suddenly threw the controller down halfway through the lap they were doing and jumped up.

The door was still locked and Josh watched with wide eyes and mouth hanging open as Chris started banging on it with one hand, while the other one was jammed between his thighs. He looked almost endearingly innocent like that and Josh’s own hand started creeping into his lap, slithering beneath the elastic band of his pants.

“Josh. Josh, I can’t hold it anymore, dude. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Josh said slowly, watching as Chris wiggled from one foot to the other. He was hunched over a little, hands against his abdomen and face red with the strain to hold on. “I don’t have anything for you to…y’know….”

And then, as if he had just thought of it, he quickly got up. “I could give you clothes of mine, you know. You could just… uh… let nature take it’s course and I’d give you some?”

Chris’ face scrunched up in disbelief, the denial obviously on his lips – only that Josh ‘stumbled’ and fell into him, and the sudden shift of attention from holding his bladder to sticking his arms out and catching his best friend, made him loose it after all.

Josh could see the exact moment Chris realized what was happening – the way his face just fell and his eyes went big, mouth dropping open in an ‘o’ of surprise, then closing as he dug his teeth into his lower lip in something that looked surprisingly chagrined and relieved at the same time.

For his part, Josh could only stare as Chris pissed himself; how he even shuffled his feet apart a little bit in order to strengthen his stance as he let go of all the lemonade Josh had been filling him up with. He felt like Chris was even bending a little in his knees for it; almost squatting like a girl as it streamed out of him and formed a quickly growing puddle between his feet.

“Oh god,” Chris groaned half way through, and Josh couldn’t believe how hot all of this was. Couldn’t help but reach for his cock and give it an almost vicious squeeze. “This is so… I’m so fucking sorry, dude,” Chris said – sobbed, and Josh felt a little bad for it, only that he loved seeing this. Seeing how distressed and humiliated Chris was.

He would come clean with his whole plan. Later. Chris would understand it. Maybe even like it? But for the time being…

“No problem, Cochise…” he whispered, fingers jerking his cock, and coming as he saw how Chris noticed and understanding filled his face.

moonlettuce
replied to your post “so I’ve been thinking a bit about watersports and bladder desperation……”

Peter agreeing that, for one day, he won’t do anything that he doesn’t have permission from Chris for. Only he never thought Chris would keep refusing him when he asks permission to go to the bathroom. It eventually gets too much, and Peter never expected to be so turned on by the humiliation he feels from wetting himself.

Anonymous said: “

What about if Peter was captured by hunters and held for hours, and when Chris arrives and saves him its just in time to see him completely lose control over his bladder. Peter would of course be mortified, especially about how good it felt, but Chris would reassure him its okay and actually hot. Maybe it starts them trying it out at home, like role-playing the big bad hunter and little wolf.”

Chris could’ve gone in there hours ago. The Bachman brothers weren’t really renown for their observation skills – which made it all the funnier that they managed to down Peter and truss him up like a pretty little package – and he’d been sitting comfortably in the branches of a tree watching the story unfold without anybody being the wiser.

The brothers were occupied with Peter and his situation and Peter was occupied… also with Peter and his situation (which wasn’t exactly news to Chris), so nobody was paying any attention to what was going on around them. The only interesting part was in fact… Peter’s situation.

Chris hadn’t been there from the beginning so it had not been too clear what exactly was going on, but it only took a few minutes to figure out what the problem was; at which point Chris decided to sit back and enjoy, because the thought of seeing Peter disgrace himself was making him strangely excited in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

“Are you puppy trained, little boy?” one of the brothers jeered in a babying voice that would have been grating in any other situation but right here right now, talking to this particular man was making it harder for Chris to properly sit on the branch he chose because he needed to spread his legs and give his cock some room to breathe in the tightness of his pants.

Peter had gone very quiet – a very promising sign indeed – and was just glowering up at them. It was too dark to properly see the color of his face, but it was strangely shiny and Chris thought Hale had to be sweating bullets by now.

It couldn’t take much longer. It just couldn’t. 

There was a slight movement to the bound wolf’s hips and all three hunters zeroed in on it with glee.

“Fuck. Look, he’s starting ‘the dance’. Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re getting to see this. Oh god, can you imagine? I need to take pictures, fuck!” but he wasn’t moving and Peter had stopped immediately with the sneaky little rocking motions.

This time, Chris thought his face had really gone darker with humiliation. He could feel a drop of pre-cum tickling the tip of his dick before it got soaked up by the fabric of his underwear.

One of them bend down and seized the hem of Peter’s shirt, lifting it up over his belly despite the very audible, constant growl of their prey. 

Chris let himself down from the tree, making sure to make no sound – not that anybody would have noticed him after the excited shout of “He looks fucking pregnant! What the hell did you drink, Hale? God damn…”

Chris slowly walked over – sauntered, really – as the other one lifted his foot (”C’mon I don’t wanna wait any longer.”), and the air seemed to freeze with anticipation as Peter’s eyes filled with horror and alarm as he realized what was about to happen.

Chris, too was unable to move, mouth going dry and fingers curling into helpless fists as the foot came down slowly, almost gently as it pressed against the little, hard swell on Peter’s abdomen.

There was a whine and forced panting – Peter trying to hold off against the pressure – and then mingled shouts – one of sobbing relief and anger, the other two of surprised joy, as Peter had to let go.

Chris listened to him groan as he pissed his designer jeans, eyes riveted on the dark spot quickly spreading until the fabric couldn’t soak up any more urine – and when Peter got turned on his back and had to lie uncomfortably on his bound hands, the three hunters were treated to the sight of his piss arcing up in a thick, small arc through the saturated jeans, noisily splashing down back into Peter’s lap.

Peter’s eyes were closed tight against the humiliation, teeth dug into his lower lip as he couldn’t stop what was happening; couldn’t help but piss himself like the dog he was…

…couldn’t notice Chris almost casually walking up behind the Bachman brothers and clanging their heads together as they gawked and stood, totally forgetting to take their pictures.

All that was left in the aftermath were two bodies lying unconscious on the forest floor and two men with bulging pants – because Chris couldn’t fail to notice how Peter’s cock didn’t seem as ashamed as its master seemed to be; having fattened up in the cozy warmth of the little puddle of piss in Peter’s lap.

“Bad boy, Peter,” Chris rasped and thought his grin might’ve been a little lunatic when Peter’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Chris in abject horror. “I think we’ll have to potty train you, hm?”

And to his utter delight, the bulge in Peter’s wet pants gave a promising jerk.