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The bedroom door shut with a click. The blindfolded Beagle now knew that he was alone.

He could picture exactly where he was in the darkened room; the chair he had been bound to was positioned at the foot of the bed. He was facing forwards and had he not been robbed of his sight he would be able to see the blank wall where the dresser normally sat. That dresser had been moved over to the left, in front of the ensuite bathroom door, so that there was space for the chair. Further to the right was the window looking out onto the garden, it was closed with the curtains drawn. On the left, was the wardrobe spanning the entire length of the wall. There were two nightstands, one on either side of the bed. One of them held the clock that was ticking down from 30 minutes.

It buzzed loudly. 29 minutes remained.

'4 minutes until I have to worry' The Beagle thought.

He had hoped that picturing the bedroom would distract him for longer. He had also hoped to think of anything other than the nice, new, woolly and white carpet they had installed in the room. He couldn't get the feeling of the threads between his paw pads out of his mind. It was so soft, and it was deep enough that he could sink his paws entirely into the softness. The comfort it brought made him want to drift off and relax, but he knew that was a terrible idea.

The logical solution to this would be to remove his paws from the carpet, but his husband Chad had tied him to the chair at the ankles. A second piece of rope around the wrists kept them trapped behind the chair and a third around his chest as well as the fourth around his stomach attached him to the chair. He had been bound so tight that he could hardly move his limbs. In case that wasn't enough, weights on the chair legs meant that he had no hope of carrying the chair even if he could stand up.

28 minutes remained.

Spit dripped from his gagged mouth and down onto his bare, white furred chest. The Beagle became aware of how quickly his mouth had become saturated with spittle. The wetness of his mouth was a surprising juxtaposition to the dryness of his lips. With his tongue pinned by the large, red ball gag and mouth stretched around the material it was difficult to swallow. He simply had to cope with it leaking to to run down his chin and fall onto his exposed body.

A large droplet's fall coincided with a chime from the clock. 27 minutes remained.

Not wanting to think about his mouth, the Beagle tried to picture himself instead.

The pear shape of his body; his narrow shoulders and flat chest that then widened into a chubby stomach and finally thick, heavy thighs complimented by a bubble butt slowly came to mind one after the other.

Next the colouration of his fur. Bronze and copper shades, ochre if he was being specific, that surrounded darker browns. At the borders it blended to make the colour of caramel. Most of his fur was white though; his entire chest, his belly, his forearms, his thighs, his legs, his muzzle, his crotch, his ass...

A chime interrupted him. 26 minutes remained.

His thoughts interrupted; he struggled to picture anything new. All he could think of his was own butt squished to the chair and the remote controlled, vibrating butt plug he was smuggling. It was a small thing that provided no challenge at all and only really served to brush his prostate gently. With no protrusions, he couldn't stimulate himself by pressing himself into the chair. He could, however, draw it in and out ever so slightly. An erection might help stave off the desperation that was about to reach him, even if it would take a fair bit of effort.

Biting down on the gag a little more, he began suck in and tense in an attempt to stimulate himself with the plug. His pucker clenched and tightened, drawing it in then pushing it out. He could feel it rubbing over his prostate. Little jolts of electricity danced over his body, but none reached his cock. It showed no signs of stirring.

He gave up when he heard the buzz for 25 minutes and winced in anticipation.

He wasn't too sure what he had been expecting. A wave of desperation? A sudden craving to be in the bathroom rather than the bedroom? Regret? A part of him had thought his bladder would start screaming or that he'd just instantly begin to wet himself. Despite all that worry, nothing happened. He felt the same as he did five minutes ago.

A conversation rang in his mind.

"Are you sure, Remy? Thirty minutes is a long time." The Rottweiler, his husband, Chad asked as he tightened the rope.

"I'm sure." Remy said quietly. He'd been slightly nervous, and still was, but if there was one thing he never backed out of it was fulfilling a fantasy.

"You're doing this on an empty stomach though. You'll need the bathroom in like five minutes."

"It's supposed to be cruel! If it's easy and there's no challenge, I won't... enjoy it." He felt the blush under his fur.

"At least I didn't give you alcohol I suppose. That would have been really mean."

At that moment, Chad had finished securing the rope around his chest and wrists. He circled around and came into view whilst he tied up the dog's ankles.

"I am a little worried about the carpet though." Remy sheepishly said after a brief pause.

"If there's no consequences to you failing, you won't try at all." Chad reminded him with a tender tone to his voice.

"Alright, I know."

In real time, the clock struck. 24 minutes remained. In his head, Chad began to apply the blindfold.

He'd taken a deep breath through his nose as the cloth had slipped down over his head, plunging everything into darkness.

"Can you see anything?" Chad asked as he tightened the fabric.

"No."

"Time for the gag then."

Remy recalled the way his jaw stretched open to a point that was mildly uncomfortable, he'd since adjusted but an ache was beginning to creep in. Chad's fingers had tickled the back of his neck as he briefly touched him there.

Silent, Chad walked over to the clock and set the timer for 30 minutes. The only sound he produced was the sound of his paws padding over the soft ground. The lights had clicked off and then the door had closed.

23 minutes remained.

Everything was calm. Quiet. There was nothing to think of or do but wait for desperation to creep in.

Towards the end of the minute, he rapidly became aware of the slight chill in the room. It wasn't enough to elicit a shiver, but he could feel the nip on his ears and on his nipples. Sitting in nothing but his boxer briefs certainly wasn't helping. He felt exposed, but excited.

Suddenly, just as the clock signalled that it had been another minute, a gentle buzzing rang out and pleasure hit Remy like a freight train. He had forgotten all about the vibrator, but Chad had apparently not. His prostate singing, Remy attempted to curl up only to be stopped by the ropes and instead had to settle for moaning into the gag. It was hardly anything, but it had caught Remy off guard. He adjusted quickly and soon found himself panting with enjoyment.

Gradually, the humming in his ass grew into a purr. His pleasure built as it did and soon, he felt his cock hardening in his underwear. In synch, his toes curled and his heels lifted from the carpet until the ropes forced them to bounce instead. The vibrator reached what Remy knew to be the median. His cock was tenting his underwear something fierce.

Almost as fast as it had come on, it dipped back to the lowest setting. Remy didn't have time to let out a huff of disappointment before it gradually began to climb again. Only now the crest of the wave was allowed to reach a higher setting. Shivering, gasping, moaning and rising from the chair as much as he could, Remy wanted nothing more than to tear free from the bindings and jerk his cock to orgasm. He knew that wouldn't happen though; his husband's rope work was too good.

It reduced to level one again after a few seconds at a six. He was left anticipating for just a few moments before the vibrations were back and stronger than ever. So strong in fact he failed to notice the clock chiming yet again.

Nineteen minutes were left on the clock when it finally reached its maximum. Remy's body stiffened as the vibrations rocked through him. It was kept active much longer than it had for any other setting. Remy could feel the orgasm creeping up; he knew if that happened he wouldn't be able to hold back what came afterwards. Gurgling, he let out a strangled cry before the vibrator stopped without warning. He whimpered in gratitude before sitting in silence for a minute more.

18 minutes remained and his cock had finally softened up. The only evidence that the vibrator had seen any use was the slight, damp patch in his underwear where the tip of his cock had been pushing against the fabric as it leaked its precum.

With any possibility of an orgasm gone, a new sensation began to creep in. A warning. A creeping in the back of his mind and a slight weight to his prick. Had he been busy with something, Remy might have been able to push it to the back of his mind. However, being tied up with nowhere to go meant that it quickly entered conscious thought.

It was strangely arousing, and he knew that it wasn't just because he was tied up nearly naked. That slight worry he might mess up, that he might slip-up and wet himself was so very exciting; it made his heart flutter and his cheeks flush. The more he thought about it, the harder his cock got until it had reached a semi. The pressure and tension grew with it.

Seventeen minutes on the clock.

Before, 30 minutes had sounded like no time at all, but now it felt impossible. How was he going to last another seventeen minutes? Every few seconds his cock would throb or tingle with a reminder of his growing desperation. His resolve was slipping away ever so gradually.

It didn't help that there were so many things to bring his thoughts back to wetness and from wetness to water and from water to piss. The spit in his mouth, dribbling over his chin and over his front... the wet patch in his underwear from the precum he had leaked and the slightly, slick feeling of lube marking his tailhole.

He wanted desperately to cross his legs as if that might dissuade his bladder from emptying, but just how much of a problem the rope could be was now becoming obvious and he failed to even lift a leg slightly.

A sudden jolt from the vibrator caused Remy to miss the beeping for sixteen minutes. It was nothing more than a quick flash, but for a moment Remy almost lost control as he instinctively started to tense only to realize that squeezing might force out more than a few drops of piss.

Instead, he sat breathing heavily as Chad continued to toy with him through the vibrator. Every few seconds the Rottweiler would 'treat' Remy to a few seconds at the highest intensity. It didn't last long enough for Remy to derive pleasure from it, it was just a tactic to get him to piss himself. This went on and on longer than it was fun for. The Beagle cursed his husband through gritted teeth. Remy had been so distracted by the vibrator; he hadn't even heard the halfway mark.

He did however hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs, climbing towards him in the bedroom. His heart stopped with anticipation and his body froze. Behind him, his tail began to wag. There was a strange feeling in his prick that was similar to how morning wood felt; hard, but not particularly because of arousal. The door opening broke him free, allowing him to look over at where he thought the door was; tail going wild and his gagged mouth mustering as much of a smile as it could.

"Halfway there, huh?" Chad asked from somewhere to the right of Remy.

Gagged, Remy replied with grunts and stifled noises.

Something was set down onto the wooden surface of the dresser. A moment later, the Beagle jumped as the rough hands of his husband caressed his chest from behind. They stroked over his pecs for a few seconds before trailing down his belly.

"The control 'ran out of batteries'..." He said sarcastically. "... so I thought I'd just come tease you in person."

One hand positioned itself over his bladder, threatening to apply just a bit too much pressure and force him to spill. The other brushed just a finger over his cock causing him to squirm.

"I've got a trade for you." Chad announced.

Remy didn't like the sound of that.

"I'll take one piece of bondage off, if you finish this bottle of water. It's not much, barely even a whiskey glass' worth. How about it?"

The Beagle shook his head to say no and then yelped as the vibrator clicked on.

"Think about it. It'll be a lot easier to hold if you can use your hands or cross your legs. You could jerk off and stay hard, that'll stave it off. If everything comes off, you might even make it to the bathroom."

Somehow, with the vibrator buzzing away and the creeping desperation for the toilet, Chad's words made sense. Remy quickly changed from shaking his head to nodding.

The vibrator clicked off and Chad reached for the gag in the Beagle's mouth. Built-up spittle dribbled over his chin as the gag was removed then tossed somewhere. Remy took a few deep breaths through his mouth, relieved to no longer be restricted to breathing through his nose.

"Alright. I'll drink it." The dog said between breaths.

Marking his decision, the alarm clock beeped. Thirteen minutes remaining.

"Good boy." The Rottweiler said, stepping away to get the bottle.

Chad used his grip on the dog's hair to tilt his head back. A moment later, the bottle was pressed to his lips. Remy gurgled slightly but was happy to nurse. However, he soon became aware that it was perhaps more full than Chad had let on. It took three... four... five... six... seven sips before the plastic crackled and contorted from him drawing air from the empty container. The bottle was removed. The dog took a deep gasp and took a moment to recover whilst Chad placed the bottle on the dresser.

"Okay. Unbind my hands then, please."

"Oh love... I think you misunderstood.

That phrase made Remy squirm. That and the fact that his bladder had immediately felt fuller from the drink.

"I decide what order things come off and we started with your gag."

Remy groaned with annoyance and desperation.

"Can I have the next bottle fast then?"

"Let me just finish this one."

Remy heard the plastic top of a bottle pop and listened in silence as the Rottweiler chugged the contents. There was the soft, faint sounds of him swallowing, followed by the crackle of the bottle and finally the smack of wet lips followed by a gasp. Through-out all of it Remy could only think of how his bladder was beginning to create a dull ache.

"Now drink up." The Rottweiler lurched forwards with bottle in hand to push it between Remy's lips.

He began to drink, but admittedly leaned away a little bit at the sudden advance. That only meant Chad could follow through, preventing him from pulling away. Remy felt Chad's hand at the back of his head, fussing his fur and holding him there. His fingers moved subtly as they removed the blindfold, causing it to fall away and permit Remy to see that he had been given a full bottle to drink. He closed his eyes immediately, worried that seeing the water would make him need to pee even more.

Before he had been able to ignore it, but now he was aware of every last drop that entered his body. He'd gag ever so slightly and somewhat splutter when Chad would tip the bottle forwards, or he'd moan slightly in relief when the bottle was angled to slow things down.

He felt each gulp. He Felt his cock throb in time with it as the liquid ran down his throat to further inflate his swollen bladder. It was as if he were speeding up a countdown or cutting wires where one might lead to an instant failure. Remy knew the drink couldn't pass through his system so fast, but it certainly felt like it had. That being said, underneath it all was a slight giggle of pleasure.

At last, the bottle pulled away with a gasp. An intense shiver ran through Remy's body, for a moment he thought his shaking body might cause him to involuntarily piss himself. How would that feel, he wondered. Would it be warm as it slowly spread through his fur, down his thighs and over the seat where it could soak the parts of him pressed to the chair? Would all of him be warm as he burned with embarrassment and lust?

What would or rather what will Chad do? Laugh? Smirk? Smile? Would he touch and hold his partner or stand back and watch it happen. Then there was the matter of what happens after. When the seat, carpet and his fur are soaked. Perhaps he'd leave him to sit and dry, having nothing to do but squirm at the damp feeling and the smell of his own piss. Would he be allowed to shower before they fucked, or was he going to be left with wet underwear and blue balls.

"Want the rest of it?" Chad asked, though it was actually more of a command, as he brought the bottle back to Remy's lip.

The Beagle was still half dazed as he finished off the bottle with a few panted gasps. Though he hadn't seen the numbers written on the label, he was sure he must have downed at least another litre or so. His stomach was certainly feeling it and he knew that his bladder wouldn't be far behind.

"There's a good mutt." The Rottweiler cooed as he rubbed his husband's belly.

"I... I-I don't think I can drink more." Remy whined ever so slightly, his legs trembling as the pressure of his bladder already began to swell. "H-how long is left?" He almost sounded afraid.

"10 minutes."

An exasperated sound escaped Remy.

"Correction, 9 minutes." The Rottweiler said as the alarm chimed.

As he did, he walked behind the dog and bent over to wrap his arms around Remy's shoulders.

"Do you think you can make it?"

"Yeah... I-I can do it." He sounded doubtful.

"Then I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

And with that, Chad fell silent. He sat behind Remy on the bed, out of the dog's field of view, and did nothing. Remy had hoped that the Rottweiler would have had more tricks to fill the time, but perhaps this was a part of his plan; to torture him by forcing him to simply wait. With nothing to distract him, the need to urinate would grow even faster.

The clock ticked to eight minutes and then seven minutes. By then he was writhing and squirming in his seat, if anything it just reminded him of how full his bladder was. He swore to himself that he could feel it sloshing inside of him. shut his eyes tight, clenched his fists and dug his toes into the carpet.

That bought him another minute. As the clock buzzed, Chad broke his silence to announce.

"Six minutes left."

A desperate and strained bark that verged on a whine escaped Remy. He was so needy, so desperate to relieve himself like a mutt. The physical frustration of forcing himself not to wet was exhausting and remember to do every little thing he'd thought up to stave it off was wearing him down.

Part of him told him to keep going, that there was only six minutes left and that he'd come too far to lose, but the other parts were all crying out to give in. He wasn't sure he could make it and at the same time he wanted to let go for the enjoyment of it. His bladder was so full, it would surely take minutes to empty. Minutes of constant waves of relief washing over him as the desperation drained away. With his underwear still on, he wouldn't even need to aim. He could relax and the warm piss would wash all over his crotch.

Now he couldn't be sure if it was lust or the agonizing need to piss that was making his head spin. He'd become so transfixed on the sensation of his swollen bladder and the feeling of his bulging midsection that he wasn't even aware that he was panting. Chad, however, was grinning ear to ear at the sight of his boyfriend kicked back in the chair, heavy breathing with his body limp as beads of sweat visibly hung in his fur.

The both of them knew two things. Firstly, that it was no longer a question of if he would piss himself, but rather when. And secondly, that the game had now changed to be about how much pleasure they could both derive from it. Chad stepped up to make a little bit of his own enjoyment.

With a coy smile on his lips that Remy could not see, he crouched down to untie the dog's ankles; they were crossed and squeezed tight immediately which seemed to promise at least a few more seconds. When his hands were free, Remy immediately brought them to his crotch, pressing down on his bugle in an attempt to suppress his urge to piss whilst using the fabric of his underwear as a barrier. Chad half expected the dog to bolt for the bathroom when the last ropes around his chest came off, but instead he slowly began to rise and inched his way towards the wall.

"What's wrong love? Do you want to soak the carpet?"

"I-i can't make it to the bathroom."

"Don't be silly, you can make it if you try."

Chad stalked closely behind the other dog, not touching him, but remaining close enough that his presence could be felt.

"N-no-no, I literally can't. You put the dresser in front of the door!" The dog lifted a trembling hand to point out the wooden furniture preventing the door from opening.

An almost silent chuckle escaped Chad. The Beagle's ear twitched.

"Did you put it there on purpose?!"

The Rottweiler gave no answer, but his silence was enough to confirm it to Remy. Letting out a groan, the dog let himself tip forwards so that his head was resting against the wall.

"Please move it?" He whimpered, feeling tears well in his eye.

He wasn't mad at his husband, nor was he feeling particularly betrayed or cheated. If anything, it was incredibly hot and perhaps even a little humiliating to have been playing a rigged game.

"Please?" He asked again.

"No." Was his firm reply. "But why don't I take that vibrator out?"

Taking what he could get, Remy murmured.

"Thank you."

Not removing the dog's underwear, Chad slipped a hand into the back of the beagle's boxer briefs and used just two fingers to gently tug the butt plug out. Those fingers had brushed over the small of his back and between his cheeks with electric ease, but the plug's removal wasn't quite so smooth. Perhaps it was because Remy was clenching slightly or maybe it was larger than he remembered, but it seemed to catch and drag over every part of his anatomy in the most torturous of ways.

"Ah!" The Beagle gasped as the last bump popped free.

The plug wasn't the only thing that escaped him. He felt his cock jump with the oddest of sensations, as if he were having a wet dream or cumming hands free. A moment later it registered that his cock was resting on a suspiciously wet, undeniably warm patch. He could feel it soaking into the fur on his fingers even through the fabric, but fortunately enough had been absorbed to avoid it running down his thigh.

Still though, there was no denying the flow now; all he could do was hold it back. He suspected that the pressure his hands were providing was all that was stopping the floodgates. He pressed down even harder and bit into his lip, entirely unaware that he was perhaps putting a little bit of pressure on his bladder.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was happening. With a smirk, Chad tossed the buttplug aside and stepped back to catch every detail.

"Pissing yourself already, pup?"

The stress on 'pup' sent a tingle of electricity down Remy's spine. He couldn't reply verbally and instead just nodded, admitting defeat.

"Turn around."

Remy shook his head and stuttered, gasping and huffing as he did.

"I-ah-ohh I can't- I can't!"

"Don't make me ask twice."

No amount of desperation could allow him to forget that Chad was his dominant and no amount of desperation would override his dominant's word. Sniffling, Remy slowly turned until he was facing Chad. He couldn't meet the Rottweiler's eyes even though the wet patch was covered by his hands. A squirt of piss escaped causing him to whimper.

"Now move those hands."

"I-I can't-"

"Move them."

The Beagle took a deep breath and before his husband could ask again, scrunched his eyes shut to give himself the last bit of courage he needed to tear his hands away. They made it just a few inches to his sides before his bladder fully unleashed itself there in his and his lover's bedroom.

Fingers curled, eyes glassy and his muzzle frozen in shock at what was the most incredible sensation as hot urine poured out into his boxer briefs turning the orange fabric darker with each passing second. It spread out in waves, saturating the entire front of his crotch before finally beginning to warm his inner thighs as it streamed down his legs to patter arrhythmically against the carpet.

The feelings that it brought were overwhelming; he didn't care that he would soon be standing in a puddle of his own piss, nor did he notice that Chad's cock was out and a camera in his other hand was filming.

At a primary level it was so heavily about the relief so intense it was pleasurable. It felt like he was pushing out a never-ending orgasm. His body was trembling with lust as he pissed, spurred on by the intoxicating, erotic heat that was spreading across his lower half.

Above that it was so, so deeply humiliating. It was an unbearable embarrassment to know that his husband was watching him do this, that he would be spending his afternoon scrubbing the carpet and would reek of his urine even after he showered. These things also brought a shameful bliss. It was impossible to tell if the tears occasionally running down his cheeks were tears of embarrassment, or overwhelming joy over his piss-soaked loins.

His shoulders began to shake with laughter. He giggled and panted to himself, amazed by how even a minute in his stream showed no signs of abating. Even so, he could feel his bladder emptying and a new need was taking the place of his desire to piss. The need to cum. He had been pent up in more than one way and now he was struck with the desire to be fucked, to masturbate and most importantly to spill his seed.

Not wanting to wait until he finished pissing, he stuffed his hands down the front of his boxer briefs. Hot urine gushed over his trembling fingers, soaking the fur there and staining them with his scent. Those fingers fumbled over his flaccid cock, rolled his foreskin back and forth and squeezed his balls before he finally gave up on the idea of getting hard and pulled away his piss soaked hand.

There was no way he was getting an erection, not when he felt so full. Even now as he reached two minutes of pissing it felt like his flow would never end. He was going to be standing here, wetting himself and growing the puddle for hours and hours. He was going to love every minute of it.

The Beagle's shaking hands found the wall behind him, he began to sink down it until he was slumped against the wall.

Chad saw an opportunity to approach. He placed the camera down where it could capture the scene and stepped in.

Staring into the Beagle's eyes who smiled up at him, Chad knelt and fished Remy's cock from his underwear. He held the shaft between two fingers and aimed it up at the dog's white furred toros. Piss streamed over the fur of his belly, rolling down over his sides and into his belly button. The heat allowed his still somewhat swollen belly to relax and for him to slip a little further from his consciousness.

The stream slowly began to sputter away, turning to spurts and then drops.

Eyes still heavy, Remy's breathing slowed as he revelled in the feeling of Chad's other hand ruffling his belly furs and stroking his thigh to spread the piss around. He wasn't sure when his bladder finally emptied itself, but when he did he immediately curled towards Chad.

Chad's hands fumbled to remove Remy's boxers and Remy's hands fumbled to remove Chad's clothes.

"Cum first, shower later." Chad panted, nose twitching in delight at his piss-soaked husband.

"Agreed."