Chapter Fifteen

Dinner soon arrived, and Vivian and I ate sitting around my tiny dining table. In truth, I usually ate at my desk in my bedroom or in the living room, as did Elyse; this was the first time our dining room table had been used for actual dining in quite some time. Possibly ever.

“So,” Vivian said, segueing away from a conversation we had been having about the final papers I had written for my courses this semester, “what are your plans for the summer? Any summer jobs lined up? Vacations?

I shook my head, “not really,” the truth was, I couldn’t afford to go anywhere. “Luckily, my fellowship includes summer funding, so I figured I’d spend my summer enjoying the peace and quiet of having the apartment to myself and work on research for my dissertation.”

“A very responsible use of your summer,” Vivian replied with a grin. “Still, you must have some kind of fun, you deserve it after work so hard during the school year. If all you do is work, you’ll burn yourself out before you can finish your doctorate.”

“I guess so,” and there was more than a little bit of wisdom in her words. Of course, what Vivian didn’t know was the there was a lot of fun to be had in enjoying the peace and quiet of my empty apartment; I had plenty of plans that included getting to relax in little space. That, to me, was vacation enough.

“What about family? You’re not going on any family vacations this year?” Vivian asked, and I shook my head.

“We don’t really do family vacations,” I explained, which wasn’t entirely true, but I had grown up poor and vacations were rare and usually just included visiting distant family. “Besides,” I continued, “I don’t exactly…get along with my family.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Vivian frowned and reached across the table to take my hand.

“Don’t be,” I forced a smile, “they just…aren’t…they didn’t take it well when I…well, they are a little on the conservative side, let’s just say that.” I squeezed her hand back, looked into her eyes, and found a genuine smile on my face. “But that just means I’ll be in town all summer and get to see you more, right?”

“Right,” Vivian confirmed. “But perhaps you won’t be in town all summer after all.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well,” Vivian smiled slyly, “if you have no other plans, perhaps we’ll have to plan our own little vacation.”

“Really?” I was suddenly giddy at the prospect.

“Of course, dear,” she replied with a light laugh, “a week at a beach would be nice,” she said, clearly thinking out loud, “but a lake house might offer more…privacy. Or perhaps something in the mountains to get away from the heat a bit?”

I smiled and blushed, “sounds like you’re thinking about a…” I wanted to say romantic getaway but was too embarrassed by how forward that was to say it. “Well,” I continued after a pause, “sounds like you’re thinking about a vacation with a lot of…alone time.”

“You don’t seem to bothered by that prospect,” she teased.

I bit my lip and shook my head.

“So, how about it? Will you go on vacation with my, Lavender?”

I nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly, “I’d really love that, Vivian.”

“Then which sounds best to you? Or do you have any other ideas?”

“A lake house sounds really nice,” I replied, already dreaming about it.

“Then it’s settled,” Vivian said firmly, “I’ll start looking for houses to rent tomorrow.”

From there, conversation drifted to all the things we could do with our week together—that is, the non-lewd things we would do, though I think we both knew there would be plenty of that.

It should go without saying that, throughout our conversations, I kept pouring rum and cokes. By the time I cleaned up dinner as Vivian drifted back to the couch, we were both a bit past tipsy. Even Vivian was visibly intoxicated, a state I’m not sure I had yet seen her in; just how intoxicated was driven home for me as she paused half way to the couch to take her heels off. It was weird, but weirdly intimate—with the exception of our Saturday mornings together, I had never seen Vivian without her heels.

“Perhaps, my dear Lavender,” Vivian said with a giggle as she sat heavily on the couch, “you should make my drink a little weaker.”

I hate to admit that I briefly considered ignoring her request; there was a part of me that wanted to see what Vivian was like when she was well and truly drunk. However, my conscience won out, and I poured a mere half of shot of rum into Vivian’s glass before pouring enough in my glass to make up for it.

The pouring liquid triggered something in me, and I shifted and fidgeted as I made the drinks, rubbing my thighs together as I became suddenly aware of just how badly I needed to pee. Squeezing my thighs together and biting my lip, I clenched my all my muscles as a wave of desperation passed over me as the coke poured freely into the glasses. Finally, drinks made, I made my way over to Vivian with small, shuffling steps.

“Everything okay?” Vivian said as I handed her the drink, clearly picking up on some peculiarities in my body language.

Blushing and biting my lip, I stood in front of her as my alcohol-fogged brain churned through the situation.

Go to the bathroom, you stupid little girl.

But…I didn’t want to…

That’s so stupid! You’re moments away from having an accident. Do you really want to have another accident in front of Vivian?!

Maybe I did. Maybe that was exactly what I wanted.

Fine, then do it; piss your pants right now.

Maybe…but…oh god, it’s such a bad idea, I should just go to the bathroom.

But wouldn’t it feel so good? And having Vivian see you have another accident would be so hot; she might even put you in pull-ups.

“Lavender?” Vivian broke me out of my own head, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” I smiled weakly, “sorry, I think I’m a little drunk.” I laughed nervously as I sat down next to Vivian.

If you don’t make a choice soon, the choice is going to be made for you.

But I know that, of course, and maybe that’s why I wasn’t making a choice. Maybe…I wanted the choice to be made for me.

Isn’t that the same as making the choice to have an accident?

Maybe…but…

I felt like my mind was chasing its own tail. Between the haze of alcohol and the pain in my bladder, I felt like I couldn’t think straight. I wasn’t thinking straight. I took another small sip of my drink and set it on the coffee table.

As soon as I had set the drink down, Vivian leaned in, placing her hand on the back of my head and forcing me to meet her halfway. Our lips met and fireworks went off in my head.

This is just like last time, and it’s going to end the same way.

But the voice was too distant, too drowned out by Vivian’s lips, her hand on the back of my head and the other gently creeping up my side towards my breasts. I moaned against Vivian’s lips as her hand finally found my breast, then broke away from the kiss with a sharp gasp as she lightly pinched my nipple through my bra.

Vivian was smiling coyly as I looked at her with surprise. Still fondling my chest with one hand, Vivian took her other away from the back of my head and placed it firmly on my chest, pushing me until I was leaning back against the arm of the couch.

It wasn’t like Vivian and I had never had sex before, but she had never been this…forward, this aggressive. I’d never seen such hunger in her eyes before. My heart rate picked up and my breaths became slow and deep; I’d never seen Vivian like this before, but gods was it doing it for me.

“Tell me you want me to touch you, Lavender,” she commanded, simply.

“I want…” but I trailed off and bit my lip, suddenly too shy to say it.

“What do you want, my precious little Lavender?” She had taken her hand away from my breast and instead lightly ran her fingers up and down my ribs, almost but not quite tickling. Her other hand was resting on my leg, tracing circles with her finger tips against the inside of my thighs. “Use your words, darling.”

I made a sound that was part way between a whimper and a moan. My bladder was still pounding, pulsing even, and I wasn’t sure if my panties were wet from leaking or from arousal…or both. “I want,” I tried again, “I want…you to…”

“Yes, go on,” Vivian coached me, “tell me what you want, little Lavender.”

I bit my lip hard. Vivian couldn’t possibly know how much it drove me wild hearing her call me ‘little’ Lavender. “To, um…touch me…” I finally managed to get out.

“And where, exactly, do you want me to touch you?” She was grinning evilly now, knowing exactly how much she was torturing me.

“Um,” I grabbed the hand that was running up and down my ribs and placed it on my breast, “here.”

“I said to use your words, my precious girl,” Vivian teased, but didn’t remove her hand, “but I guess that’s close enough for your first try, so good girl.”

My body shuddered at a surge of electricity that passed through me, and I smiled proudly. I was a good girl.

Vivian lifted herself off the couch to lean over me as she locked our lips together. “Tell me,” she said in between kisses, “is there,” kiss, “anywhere else,” kiss, “you’d like me,” kiss, “to touch you?” Kiss.

Sharp pains pierced my lower stomach, but I pushed them away as best as I could. I nodded my head.

“And where is that?”

I strained my neck upward to kiss her again as I grabbed the hand on my thigh and slowly moved it higher.

“Ah ah, what did I say, little Lavender?” Vivian broke off from our kiss and pulled her hand out of mine.

I whimpered.

“Lavender,” she said in a faux scolding, “what did I tell you to do?”

“Tell you where I want to be touched,” I said meekly.

“Yes, darling, but how did I tell you to tell me?”

I bit my lip and looked away, “you said to, um, use my big girl words.”

Vivian raised her eyebrows and for a moment she looked surprised, but then a big grin spread across her face. I registered the look of surprise, but my brain was too full of other things to even begin to parse where it had come from. “That’s right, little girl.”

I made a small whimpering sound in my throat.

Little girl.

“Now,” Vivian said as she began to shift around on the couch until she was straddling my hips, “are you going to use your big girl words and tell me where you want me to touch you?”

Once she was straddling me, Vivian lowered herself until she was sitting on me, which was just about the worst thing she could do.

Her weight against my lower stomach pushed down on my bladder, and I gasped as the pressure forcefully emptied a portion of my bladder into my pants, the wetness in my crotch now undisputedly piss.

Told you the choice would be made for you.

“Vivian, I…” I struggled to simultaneously speak and fight with my bladder, which was threatening to empty itself completely and soaked both my jeans and the couch. Small spurts were coming out in irregular intervals as I desperately tried to get the words out.

“Lavender? What’s wrong?” Concern filled Vivian’s voice and she lifted herself off of me and sat back down on the couch, recognizing that my mood had suddenly shifted.

Unexpectedly, the release of the pressure from her body weight cause me to momentarily lose my fight, and a long stream of pee trickled into my panties, soaking my crotch and dribbling down my ass. No longer being held down, I scrambled off the couch. There was no way I could make it to the bathroom, but I could at least avoid soaking the couch.

“Oh, Lavender,” Vivian said sympathetically as she realized what was going on.

Vainly, I pressed my hands against my crotch, but I had already lost the battle. The crotch of my light blue jeans turned dark as the pee spread through the denim and began cascading down my legs. Humiliation burned through me, but I also couldn’t help but bit my lip and relish the sensation. The truth was, the humiliation was a distant sensation to my inebriated brain, but the tactile pleasure of the pee running over my most sensitive parts and down my leg was front and center in my thoughts. Even Vivian’s presence faded from the thoughts for the moment.

And then it was over. I heard a drop of pee fall from my jeans and splash in the puddle that had formed on the hardwood floor beneath me.

“Oh, Lavender,” Vivian repeated, breaking the silence, “I’m so sorry, darling.” She reached out and put a comforting hand on my arm.

I just stood there, trying to process the deluge of emotions swirling through my brain. The truth was, what I wanted more than anything right then was to keep kissing Vivian, to have her touch me through my piss-soaked jeans. For Vivian, the mood might have been broken, but, for me, the mood was very much still there, perhaps even stronger for my accident.

Not exactly an accident.

Not exactly, but not exactly on purpose either.

But closer to one than the other.

“Vivian,” I finally spoke, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened,” I lied.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Vivian said reassuringly. “You were trying to tell me you had to go, weren’t you?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry, Lavender, if only I had understood…”

“It’s not your fault,” I replied quickly. It was definitely not her fault, but I couldn’t explain just how not her fault it was. I looked up at her, making eye contact for the first time in the past few moments, and was filled with the urge to jump on her and keep making out.

Gods, I wanted her to fuck me.

There’s no way she’s going to fuck you after watching you piss your pants. Not tonight anyway.

“I should…take a bath…”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Vivian stood up and took my hand, either oblivious to or unconcerned about the fact that I had just been pressing my hands against the pee-soaked denim. “Why don’t you show me to your bathroom?”

I nodded and took Vivian to the bathroom that was conjoined to my bedroom. Immediately, Vivian let go of my hand and went to the tub to start the water. I stood there awkwardly in my peed in clothes as I watched Vivian adjust the temperature before plugging the tub.

“Now,” she said as she turned her attention back to me, “let’s get you out of these yucky clothes, okay?” I nodded as Vivian grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up over my head. “You’re gonna feel so much better after we get you all cleaned up,” she reassured as she reached behind me to unclasp my bra.

For my part, I just stood there, relishing in how Vivian undressed me like a child.

Next, Vivian unbuttoned by pants and peeled both them and my panties off me at once, instructing me to step out of them.

“Lavender,” Vivian spoke as she gathered up my discarded clothes, seemingly unbothered by touching the pee-soaked clothes, “I don’t want to embarrass you, but…has this been happening a lot lately?”

My face burned, “um, mostly just when I’m drinking,” I replied, mostly honestly. After all, the times it had happened lately when I wasn’t drinking had all been firmly on purpose.

“Mmm, I see,” she said neutrally, and left it at that before asking for the whereabouts of our washing machine.

After unsuccessfully attempting to dissuade Vivian from doing my laundry, I acquiesced and told her where our washer and dryer was, then finally climbed into the bathtub when I was finally alone.

Putting my hair up to keep it dry, I leaned back in the tub and let the hot water wash over me, slowly inching its way up my body as the tubbed filled.

As my mind played back the events of the last few minutes, I felt a little regret over brining our…activities to a halt. I shuddered as I remembered her telling me to use my words, as I remembered her calling my ‘little girl.’ But what regret I felt was drowned out by how my mind buzzed over the humiliation of my accident. My hand dipped below the water and nestled itself between my legs as I replayed the moment in my head.

“Has this been happening a lot lately?” Vivian’s question burned bright in my head as my imagination reached that point in the evening’s events.

I imagined myself nodding meekly, “yes, Miss Vivian,” I whispered the words out loud as my imagination deviated from the real events.

“I see,” Vivian would reply, disappointment clear in her voice, “I guess I was wrong when I thought you were ready for big girl panties, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Miss Vivian,” I would repeat then add, “I’m sorry, Miss Vivian.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault,” she would smile condescendingly at me, “you’re just a little girl, after all. It’s my fault for expecting you to be big enough to use the potty. I guess we’re just going to have to go back to pull-ups, my little Lavender.”

“Yes, Miss Vivian,” I would say for a third time.

I gasped, suddenly jerked out of my daydream by a light tapping on the door.

“Come in,” I called.

The door opened and Vivian stepped in carrying a bundle of clothes she must have gotten from my closet. And something else. It took me a moment to recognize it, but my heart stopped when I did. On top of the pile of clothing in Vivian’s hands was one of my diapers.