all tied up

"I feel like I can't trust you anymore!" Elizabeth yelled at her boyfriend.


"Liz, it was only one time!" he said tearfully.


"Yeah, right! How do I know you won't sneak off with another girl again!?"


"I won't," he reassured her, "I promise. I'm sorry! I'll do anything." And so for the next week, Liz wouldn't let Ron out of her sight.


One night she decided they needed more groceries. Ron flat refused to go with her. It wasn't because he simply didn't want to, though. Sure, he hated shopping, but also hated that she didn't trust him. The way he made her not trust him.


"Really, Ron?" Either you come with me, or I tie you to your chair!" she threatened.


He laughed. She often made empty threats. "I'm. Staying. Here."


Shrugging, she said, "Suit yourself," and pulled a rope out from under the sink.


"When did that get there?" Ron asked. Instead of answering, she shoved him and he stumbled into a dining chair. Sitting on his lap, she tied his hands to the chair, then got up to tie his legs.


"Um, actually I'll go with you..."


"Too late!" she said cheerfully. And then he was alone. He felt a twinge in his bladder reminding him of its fullness. He had been on his way to the bathroom when Liz announced she was going to the store.


Oh no.


Wait, what was he thinking? He was a grown man, he could wait that long!


He was getting tired, and bored. Somehow, Ron managed to fall asleep in a wooden dining chair.


He woke up an hour and a half later. Wondering why, he straightened up. That's when it hit him. Gravity pulled down on his bladder, making him feel every single drop of liquid begging to come out of his body. He groaned. Why wasn't she back yet?


Minutes earlier, Liz had gotten a call from a friend asking her to come hang out at her flat. But wasn't there something she was forgetting about? Oh well, she'd figure it out later. She happily agreed to her friend's invitation. She hadn't bought anything that needed to be refrigerated so there was no need to stop at home first.


Ron fidgeted. Well, he did more than fidget. He rocked in place, bounced, and wiggled, doing anything he could to hold it.


Why wasn't she back yet? Yes, he knew asking twice when he wasn't going to get an answer was redundant, but he couldn't help it. He was practically begging for her to come home. And he couldn't even call her; his phone was just out of reach.


Damnit, Liz, get back here already!


He moaned softly. How long had it been? At least a couple hours. He wished he could go back to sleep, but his bladder's incessant sloshing prevented him from doing so. He just wished he could cross his legs.


No, actually he wished she would come back already, but crossing his legs would be nice as well.


Meanwhile, Liz was laughing with her friends, feeling more than slightly tipsy. Ron didn't even so much as cross her mind. Raising her glass, she laughed and took a swig. Back at home, Ron was now leaving the "really, really have to pee" stage and entering the "totally desperate" stage. He continued to to pull on his restraints, not fully expecting to get anywhere. Suddenly, his right hand came free. He attempted to untie himself, but as he was left handed and shaking, he couldn't do it, no matter how hard he tried.


In fact, the harder he tried, the more desperate he felt. At least he could hold himself now. Taking the opportunity without hesitation, he gasped at the small bit of relief he felt. He looked for anything he could reach to pee in. He did find a bucket which he used for mopping, but it was way too far away.


Maybe he could call? Unfortunately, his phone was on his left side, still unreachable. "Shit!" Ron cursed loudly. With tears clouding his vision, he looked longingly at the mop bucket.


He was leaking. His freed hand was now soaked in urine. Grunting, he finally managed to stop peeing, just before the stain was noticeable on the outside of his pants.


But he had to go so bad! It wouldn't be long before there was a wet spot. Or a flood, he thought miserably. He was sweating now.


It was to the point where it hurt. Panting, he was about give up, and began to slowly remove his hand from his crotch. Just then, a drunk Liz walked through the door with a huge smile on her face. The sight of him seemed to sober her up a bit.


"OhmyGod, Ron! I can't believe I forgot about you, I'm so sorry..."


"Liz," he squeaked out.


"Ron? What's wrong baby?"


"I have to, argh! I needa..." he squirmed, and finally found his voice. "Untie me!"


Liz slowly began to work on the knots. "Damn, I really tied these tight!" she exclaimed.


"Liz," Ron said, still panting, "hurry!" I gotta... I gotta pee!"


"Relax, Ron, I'm trying." She didn't understand how bad it was.


"No. I needa pee now!" he whined.


"Finally his squirming and whining registered in her head. She furiously began struggling with the knots.


"Liz..." he whined pathetically, "please." Tears flowed down his face. She got his left hand free. He immediately shoved it in his crotch, clutching his leaking cock. Upon feeling a tear hit her arm, Liz stood up and rushed to grab scissors.


She couldn't find them. "L-Liz... B-bucket..." he tried to point with his eyes, for he was unwilling to take his hands away from his crotch.


She understood. She grabbed the mop bucket and carried it over, running as fast as she could. Positioning the bucket in front of him, she helped him with the button and zipper.


Soon, he was going. A thick yellow stream poured into the bucket. It took a few moments to feel the relief, but when he did, he moaned loudly and happily. When he finished no less than a minute later, Liz began to apologize profusely again.


He looked down at the small wet patch on his pants and said, "Just finish untying me."


Word count: 1,051

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