“One or… oh! Just one. I just gotta piss,” Goldie replied.
Day abruptly left the room.
“Hey!” Goldie scowled. “What are you doing now?”
He listened, and he could hear cabinets in the kitchen opening and closing. Day was looking for something, although Goldie had no idea what. Maybe Day had hidden the key for the cuffs in there and forgot where he stashed it.
Instead of a key, Day returned with a plastic pitcher.
It took Goldie’s brain a moment to register what Day was intending to do with it. When Day sat beside him on the bed and started to pull the front of his pants down, it became clear.
“Whoa, whoa! Wait a second!” Goldie tried to scoot away. “Easy there, kitten. Why don’t you just let me up to go piss, huh?”
Day snorted, and he waved the pitcher.
“Come on now. You can’t be serious.” Goldie’s pulse was up, the throb tickling the back of his throat and flushing his face.
Day stared.
Goldie was overcome by helplessness, and the idea of Day grabbing his dick and making him pee in a pitcher made his stomach turn. It was also creating a weird cloud of heat, and the unexpected blood flow headed between his legs.
No, there was no fucking way he was getting hard from this.
The shame of what was about to happen was humiliating and still somehow turning him on, and he couldn’t explain why. He’d never felt so weak before and being out of control was wild and surprisingly thrilling. He told himself he was only going to go along with this because he wanted to keep Day happy.
Day couldn’t hold him prisoner here forever, and Goldie’s best chance of getting out of these cuffs was staying on his good side and playing along with this crazy angel bullshit. He was confident he could talk Day down and get him to release him, but it would take time.
Goldie reasoned that Day hadn’t shown any signs of violence, and that made him more sure he could survive this if he continued to play nice. Day didn’t want to hurt him. After all, he’d had multiple chances to, so Goldie made up his mind that the best way to get through this was do what Day wanted him to.
Plus, he really did have to piss.
“Okay, just… just do it.” Goldie averted his eyes to the ceiling. He didn’t think watching was going to help how uncomfortable this was.
Ever so delicately as if he was performing surgery, Day pulled Goldie’s sweats down. He gently grabbed Goldie’s cock, guiding it to the lip of the pitcher. He made a small grunt, as if signaling Goldie to go.
Except Goldie couldn’t.
The pressure was right there and ready to burst, but he couldn’t piss. He took a few deep breaths to relax, but it didn’t help. Trying to piss in front of someone was awkward. Goldie used to have to do that for drug tests when he was a wrestler. But trying to piss in front of someone who was also holding his half-hard dick and watching him was apparently impossible.
Day tugged on his dick.
“Hey! Hey now!” Goldie sputtered. “I’m trying, okay? This is a little weird, okay?”
Goldie couldn’t be sure since he was looking at the ceiling, but he swore he heard Day roll his eyes.
He took another deep breath, focused on getting the seal to break, and there, finally! He sighed in relief as he finally let go and pissed, relaxing now that the hard part of this was over. He was still quite aware of Day’s warm fingers, but he tried not to pay them any mind. He spared a quick glance at Day and was surprised to find he was also staring off at the ceiling.
Goldie had almost expected him to be sneaking a peek at his dick, but Day was acting surprisingly… what was the word? Medicinal? Clinical even? Was that it?
It seemed like this was something he’d done before, and Goldie grimaced.
Maybe he wasn’t Day’s first angel.
Now there was a horrifying thought.
When he was done, Day gave him a quick shake and then removed the pitcher. He pulled up Goldie’s pants politely and left to take care of the pitcher’s contents.
Goldie was never drinking out of that thing again, though he was happy he’d gotten to relieve himself. He willed his cock to behave, and he tried to gather himself together while he had some privacy. He attributed his dick’s actions to pressure and unexpected emotions, nothing more. He was tempted to try screaming for help again, but if he—
