"Jim... son, are you alright?" The voice was concerned, not quite alarmed. It was his boss, Mr. Carlson. He was looking at Jim. So was everyone else seated around the long meeting table. They'd been droning on about marketing budgets for an hour.

The panic started to rise in his throat. His hands flew away from his body like a bird's wings fleeing the hunter. What did he feel down there? Did he? Could he have? C'mon brain work, what just fucking happened? He didn't feel anything. That was good, wasn't it? How did it feel, again, when you wet your pants? Warm, wet, quickly spreading, inundating, immediately turning cold in the air. Did he feel that? Process, dammit. No, nothing, ohh, wait... Jim stared down at his crotch. It looked fine. No stain. Then why the feeling..., no, no feeling.

It was so strange. The meeting started at 11. He needed to pee, but he was a little late and needed to get in the room. Besides, he didn't need to go yet too badly and he knew he could hold it if he had too. Everyone looked at him when he came in, just as the meeting was starting. Mr. Carlson's voice boomed out at him, "Get some coffee, Jim, this could be a long one. Oh, and thanks for joining us."

Jim slunk over to the coffee service and then took his seat. He would definitely need coffee for this one, damn. He wished now he'd just bit the bullet and gone to the bathroom before going to the meeting. He could feel the ache in his bladder more distinctly now. The coffee wasn't helping, but he was having trouble staying awake and couldn't stop drinking it. He glanced across the table at Claudia.

Claudia was a babe, stacked. Everyone knew she was a rising star in the organization. Bright and ruthless. My buddy Chet has already laid out his odds to me: although I was widely considered Carlson's anointed, within six months she would take my headcount, and within a year she'd have Carlson's job. She was wearing a matching gray and blue striped suit. Underneath, she wore a tight black scoop neck top that really showed off how big she was.

Jim just couldn't tear his eyes away from her tits. He knew he should. He knew he had to. He would, in just a second. First, though, he had to think about how nice it would feel to suck on them, to lick them around and around, to bury his head in them. The thought made his cock ache. It felt so good, his cock did. Her tits, Claudia's tits were big enough to fuck with his cock, sliding his cock in and out between her big full swollen tits. God, if he did that for a while, it would be a pretty sure thing that he would cum between them, probably spurt cum right on old Claudia's face. She'd probably like that, huh? The good feeling continued to rise in his groin when suddenly he realized it wasn't horny that he felt, but the extreme ache of his bladder that could no longer wait. In his day dream it had felt like sex.

But now... he made to rise, to run for the bathroom, when... it was too late, the pee came pouring out. Carlson's voice snapped him out of it. "Son, did you fall asleep? What's the matter?" Jim hadn't peed himself. But he had so acted like he had. He thought that he had. He could tell the realization that Jim thought he'd peed himself was just starting to penetrate everyone else's mind. He stood up, not quite sure why. Everyone stared at his crotch, all looking for the evidence of his career self destruction. It wasn't there.

He could live this one down. Fuck, what had happened to him. It seemed so real. A couple of weeks ago he had written Mistress... uh, Dominica, to tell her that he'd had a great time listening to her tapes and how incredible he thought she was, but that he would have to stop now, work was simply getting too intense and, truth be told, he had started seeing this cute domme that had a studio near a subway stop on his way home.

Not a hypnodomme, of course, but he liked it when she spanked him and put him in a diaper after making him clean himself out with an enema. Dominica had been really gracious about it. She wished him well and said she wanted to send him a present. Jim felt good about that. It was like she really wanted to wish him well and respected the way in which he had been honest about his needs and his appreciation of what she had done for him sexually. And like a real man, he hadn't asked her permission, he just let her know that the Mistress/slave stuff was over by just telling her, respectfully, how it would be.

The package showed up a few days later. There was a CD and an envelope that said, open right before listening. Jim thought it might be best if he didn't listen and put the package aside. He meant to throw it away. A couple of nights later he found it on a table. He loaded the disc and laid back in a recliner, all warm and comfortable, when he remembered that maybe he shouldn't listen to it. But, what could be the harm...

He opened Dominica's envelope. It was a card. It said:

Jim, as you said on the phone, although some activities may have to cease, the relationship can certainly continue. I just want you to know that I too want our relationship to continue on a new level. i talk about it on the CD. i think you will be pleased and I wanted you to hear it in my own voice.

love Dominica
xxx

Underneath her signature were two thick lipstick smears. She had written "kiss here" on the card with an arrow pointed to where she had kissed the card with her lips, with her thick red lipstick. Jim kissed where she had kissed. It was a nice touch, a piece of physical contact to symbolize the link. He hadn't really thought of Dominica as such a romantic, but he was touched by the thought.

The lipstick that transferred off the card tingled on his lips. He licked them, they tasted kind of acrid. He felt so comfortable all of a sudden and sleepy. He knew he had to listen to her recording. The next morning he didn't remember much of it, but sometime during the night he had an intense wet dream. The bed was still wet when he woke up in the morning, but he was late for work. The smell was particularly pee-like. Ach, later. He'd deal when got home.

He wondered about what She had said on the tape. He hadn't had a wet dream in years. He couldn't stop wondering what She had said on the tape. He remembered her painting the picture of them at a romantic dinner, the candlelight sparking in the half full wine glasses. He remembered roses, and the smell of roses. He remembered that they were going to go deep, deeper than ever before.

Jim's head came up with a start. It was time for the marketing meeting. He was going to be late. Lateness was Carlson's pet peeve, too. And that bitch Claudia had been stealing his thunder with Carlson for a while. He rushed to the conference room. He kind of needed to pee, but he knew he could hold it. Carlson told him to grab a cup of coffee, and next thing you know, wham, he was standing there, like a deer in headlights, acting like he'd peed himself with nothing to show he had.

Fuck, Dominica, that was brilliant. Fucking bravo. What a mind fuck. Claudia's voice caused him to look at her. She was looking him straight in the eye when she said to no one in particular, "I thought he'd dropped hot coffee in his lap? What's the matter Jim, gotta go?"

The anger went off in his brain, but it seemed to trigger something in his stomach. He felt sick briefly and then it happened. Suddenly he could feel it again. Just like in his nightmare. The pressure on his bladder was simply unbearable. Suddenly, all of his attention was on it. He could feel the pee starting to get away from him. Moving from his bladder through his cock, his aroused so sexualized cock. The feeling was indescribable. Like he was fucking, but he was cumming pee. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about this. He should be running. Running out of the room. Running so no one saw what was about to happen to him, but he couldn't. He was rooted there. He tried to run but he couldn't. It was inevitable now. He already couldn't hold it. He didn't even have the presence of mind to cover himself as he did it. He just stood there and with ten pairs of eyes on his crotch, he peed in his pants like a balky two year old. He floated a story about bad diarrhea. No one believed him.

In fact, Chet's predictions turned out to be true, only it all happened faster. Claudia was promoted over him the next week and within another month Carlson was gone, leaving her the department. At his first performance review Claudia laid it out: he had lost the respect of the team and the only way he could stay was as her personal assistant. The look in her eye said it all and he had no illusions as to how degrading she would make this. What he couldn't know was that within a year he'd again be a rising star, only named Jane and riding on the apron strings of his, now her, mentor and protector, Claudia. Claudia really liked the way Jane would get under her desk and sweetly give her head while she made deals on the telephone. And there weren't a whole lot of places a newly transsexual marketing assistant could go to for a job. As for Dominica, neither Jim nor Jane ever heard from Her again. When he tried to listen to the recording once more, it was blank.