My Netori Life With System: Stealing Milfs And Virgins

Chapter 277: 277. She Wanted To Pee?! Then Do It On The Lightpole! (LOL!)**

The connection between her anus and her vagina Pure, unadulterated pleasure bridged the connection between her anus and her vagina. by pure, unadulterated pleasure. Every time his finger pushed deep into her backside, a fresh wave of electricity slammed into her clitoris.

She wasn’t just coming; she was erupting. Her pussy began to leak a thick, constant stream of arousal, the fluid dripping onto the pavement beneath her in a rhythmic patter.

"Oh god! Oh god, Mike!" she wailed, her voice breaking into a series of high-pitched, desperate moans.

She was caught in a feedback loop of sensation: the stretching ache of her anus feeding the frantic, pulsing need of her pussy.

She was losing all control. Her body was no longer hers; it was a machine of pleasure, driven by the man behind her. She was coming nonstop, her entire frame vibrating with the intensity of the climaxes that seemed to arrive one after another, each one more violent than the last.

’I am a mess... a beautiful, leaking, broken mess,’ she thought through the haze of ecstasy, her mind finally surrendering to the overwhelming truth. ’And the worst part... the most terrifying part... is that I never want him to stop.’

The relentless, rhythmic stretching of Mike’s finger had pushed Madison to the absolute brink of sensory overload. She was a shivering wreck, her pussy weeping a constant stream of nectar, her breath coming in short, jagged sobs of pure ecstasy.

She felt as though she were floating in a sea of heat and friction, her identity as a famous actress completely dissolved into the primal sensations of the alleyway.

Mike, seeing that her muscles were finally pliable and her body sufficiently primed, decided it was time to finish the task. He reached down and grabbed the heavy silicone tail.

Without a hint of hesitation or a moment of gentleness, he lined it up with her gaping, pulsing anus and shoved it home.

"AHHHH HNNN!" Madison’s scream was a mix of a gasp and a moan, her back arching so sharply it looked as though her spine might snap.

The sudden, massive fullness of the tail filling her up was a shock to her system, a heavy, stretching sensation that felt like being impaled by a smooth, unyielding rod. It was a sensation of total occupation, a physical reminder that her most private parts were no longer her own.

"There," Mike grunted, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Now you’re a complete pet again."

But he wasn’t done disciplining her. To ensure she didn’t lose the "lesson" she had just learned, he raised his large, heavy hand and brought it down hard against her rounded, naked buttock.

SLAP!

The sound echoed sharply in the alley. Madison let out a yelp, her body jolting.

"Walk," he commanded. "On all fours. Like a good girl."

"No more standing, no more begging."

SLAP!

Another stinging blow landed, this one even harder, sending a bloom of heat through her skin.

"Move!"

She began to crawl, her hands and knees moving in a clumsy, rhythmic motion across the grit. The tail swayed heavily with every movement, its base rubbing against her sensitive, overworked anus, sending tiny, stinging jolts of pleasure through her.

She was trying to obey, trying to find the rhythm Mike demanded, but a new, terrifying sensation was beginning to bloom deep in her lower abdomen.

It wasn’t the sharp ache of the tail or the throbbing of her clitoris. It was a heavy, mounting pressure, a localized fullness right at the base of her bladder.

It was an urgent, insistent urge to pee, a sensation that felt incredibly vulnerable, especially while she was naked and being forced to move like an animal.

’Oh no... no, no, no,’ she panicked internally, her movements becoming stiff and hesitant. ’Not now.’

’Please, not here. Not in the dirt, not in front of him.’

’It’s too much... the tail is pressing right against it...’

She slowed her pace, her crawling becoming a series of tiny, awkward stutters. Her face, which had been flushed with pleasure, was now pale with a different kind of anxiety.

She looked up at Mike, her eyes wide and brimming with a shy, desperate sort of terror. She didn’t dare speak; she didn’t want to admit to something so undignified, so "unladylike," even in her current state.

She looked at him with a submissive, trembling gaze, her lips pressed tightly together, her body tensed as if she were trying to physically hold back the tide within her.

Mike, however, was not a man easily fooled. He had spent enough time observing her reactions to know the difference between a moment of exhaustion and a moment of physiological crisis.

He watched the way her hips hitched, the way she seemed to be squeezing her inner muscles with frantic intensity, and the way her eyes darted nervously toward the ground.

He stopped walking and turned his gaze down to her, a knowing, almost predatory smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"What’s the matter, Madison?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low, teasing drawl. "Why have you stopped?’

’Did the big, bad dog lose her rhythm?"

"N-no, Master..." she whispered, her voice tiny and strained.

She looked down at the ground, her cheeks burning with a shame more intense than anything she had felt all night.

Mike leaned down, his face inches from hers, his eyes scanning her trembling form. He saw the way she was tensing her entire pelvic floor, the way her breath was being held in a shallow, controlled way.

"You’re holding something in, aren’t you?" he murmured, his eyes gleaming with a sudden, wicked realization.

He reached out, his hand hovering just inches from her lower belly. "You’re not just tired."

"You’re full, aren’t you? You’re about to burst."

Madison let out a tiny, humiliated whimper, her eyes filling with fresh tears. He had seen right through her.

The most famous actress in the country was currently struggling with the most basic, animalistic urge, and her master had caught her in the most humiliating way possible.

"Do you need to go, pet?" he whispered, his voice dripping with a cruel sort of amusement. "Do you need to let go right here in the dirt?"

The humiliation was a physical weight, heavier than the silicone tail that sat deep within her. Madison felt as though she were vibrating on a knife’s edge; the pressure in her bladder was becoming an agonizing, pulsing demand that synchronized perfectly with the rhythmic throb of her overworked clitoris.

Every small movement, every tiny shudder of her muscles, felt like it was pushing her closer to a catastrophic loss of control.

Mike didn’t offer her the mercy of a private corner or a dignified way out. Instead, he straightened up, his shadow stretching long and imposing against the brick walls, and pointed a single, commanding finger toward a flickering streetlamp at the edge of the alley.

The light cast a sickly, yellow glow over the damp pavement, highlighting the grit and the grime of the urban landscape.

"There," Mike said, his voice flat and devoid of sentiment. "The lightpole."

"You can go right there."

"Don’t make me wait, Madison. A dog doesn’t hold it in just because she’s embarrassed."

Madison’s eyes widened, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

"There? Right there, under the light? Like a common stray?" she screamed internally, her mind recoiling in pure, unadulterated horror. "Anyone could turn the corner! A car could pass! The whole world could see me... leaking, shivering, pathetic... like an animal!"

"Please, Master..." she whimpered, her voice cracking. "Not there... please, let me just... let me just crawl a little further... maybe there’s a shadow..."

"No shadows. Just the light," Mike countered.

Before she could protest further, he reached down and scooped her up. He didn’t lift her like a woman; he hoisted her up like a prize, her naked, shivering body pressed against his hard, warm chest.

He began walking toward the lightpole, the movement causing her bladder to protest with a sharp, stabbing sensation that made her gasp.

"Holding it in can be bad for you, Madison," he murmured into her ear, his breath hot and smelling of mint and dominance. "It causes tension. It makes you tight. And you’re already far too tight."

"So, since you’re being so stubborn, I’m going to help you relax."

"Help me? Mike, please, just let me walk."

Her words were cut short as he reached down with one hand. He didn’t go for her waist or her hips; instead, his fingers slid between her thighs, finding her soaking, swollen pussy.

He began to massage her, his fingers moving in slow, circular motions around her clitoris while his thumb applied a steady, rhythmic pressure to the area just above her vaginal opening.

The sensation was devastating. The pressure of his hand against her lower abdomen, combined with the stimulation of her clitoris, sent a direct signal to her bladder.

Madison felt her entire pelvic floor convulse. In a moment of pure, involuntary biological reaction, her urethra actually clenched and pulsed, a tiny, visible twitch of her most intimate anatomy as it struggled to stay closed under the onslaught of pleasure and pressure.

"Ah! No! Stop!" Madison shrieked, her voice echoing off the damp walls.

She began to squirm in his arms, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her legs kicking weakly. "Mike, stop! This is... this is too much! It’s too much!"