Author’s Note: This is a standalone, taboo short story featuring characters from my series: “The Education of Eden.” This story is set after that series.
Chapter 1: Pressure
My hands shook as I drove. Training day with Master Dante always left me nervous with anticipation, but today I was over thirty minutes late. My mother had arrived as I was leaving and trapped me in conversation.
Master Dante did not abide tardiness and would punish me severely.
I used my key to let myself in and found him sitting rigidly on the couch, his body tense and his eyes blazing. The energy radiating from him made my skin prickle with fear… and, if I’m honest, excitement.
“Master, I can explain—”
His hand shot up, cutting me off. Without a word, he pointed down the hallway toward the basement stairs.
My throat went dry. No discussion, no chance to explain about Mom. Just that silent command that brooked no argument.
I walked on unsteady legs to the basement, my hands trembling as I began the familiar ritual of undressing. Each piece of clothing was to be folded precisely and placed in a cubby hole under the stairs. As I removed my panties, I became acutely aware of the pressure in my bladder. I’d been so distracted by my mother that I’d forgotten to use the bathroom before leaving the house.
The pressure was building to an almost unbearable level, but I didn’t dare risk him coming downstairs to find me out of position. I assumed the inspection pose—legs shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind my head, spine straight. Standing there naked and exposed, I tried to focus on anything except the growing urgency between my legs.
Minutes stretched like hours. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, clenching every muscle I could to maintain control. A small whimper escaped my lips as I imagined the humiliation of failing inspection because I couldn’t hold my bladder.
What was taking him so long? He was probably making me wait because of being late.
Finally, the door opened. I heard his boots strike each wooden step, each sound making my heart race faster. When he appeared, his expression remained stern and unforgiving.
“Late again, my pet.”
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.”
He began his inspection ritual, running his hands over my body with his usual detachment. When he opened my mouth to examine my teeth and tongue, I kept perfectly still despite my growing desperation at the pressure building below. His hands traveled down my torso, spreading my ass cheeks to check for cleanliness.
When his palm pressed against my lower abdomen, I couldn’t suppress the involuntary flinch.
He stopped immediately. “Since when do you flinch without me striking you?”
“I... I have to pee, Master.”
His eyebrows raised with interest rather than irritation. “Does this hurt?” He pressed more firmly against my stomach.
“Yes, Master.”
“What if I slipped a finger inside you? Could you hold it?”
My face flushed with embarrassment and arousal. “I’m not sure, Master.”
