Personal Peeing Assistant

This story is something I wrote after a long hiatus from writing. It's an idea I've had for a while. I used it just to get my creative juices flowing again. No pun intended.

I've submitted it in the fetish category because it is very focused on peeing and pee-play.

However, the sex in the story takes place between two women. If pee or lesbianism isn't your cup of tea, please check out one of my other stories.

As with everything I write, this story takes place in a happy alternate universe where STD's are not a concern.

IsabellaEmily

~~

The ad was simple enough.

Help Wanted: Personal Bathroom Attendant. Duties to include being responsive to personal requests and needs, making sure needed supplies are ordered and stocked and ready to be used at all times, providing dryness, providing a finish, encouraging discreet interactions, and providing hydration as requested.

I read it again. One of my friends from the university had handed it to me over an evening drink.

"This might be good for some extra income," he'd said, sliding the tiny sheet of paper across the table to me. "Not to mention the writing inspiration you could get from it."

"You're crazy," I told him, after reading the first line. "I don't want to be a bathroom attendant."

"Read the whole thing," he'd smiled. "And try to read between the lines. I know the woman who created this ad, and I know you. I think you two will get along and be able to genuinely inspire one another."

"Inspire?" I asked, picking the paper up and reading it through to the end.

"Just meet with her," he smiled. "You never know."

I was scratching out a living as a writer, contributing to a young adult mystery and romance series under a pen name, and selling custom erotic stories on the side.

For extra income I would often take short term temporary jobs, things that captured my imagination or paid well. Or both. I didn't want to work forty hours a week consistently and lose the momentum in my writing career, but I did want to get out of my apartment and could always use some more spending money.

I'd traveled to Europe as a nanny with a wealthy family, walked dogs, served sandwiches in a homeless shelter, checked ID's at a swingers club, stuffed envelopes, and worked in a call center. I'd even done a bit of acting in ads for a local coffeehouse.

I even spent a month repossessing cars, before deciding that getting shot at wasn't worth any possible writing inspiration.

My friend had invited me to get a drink because he'd thought something about the bathroom attendant job might intrigue me.

I'd had a sexual affair with him that lasted the better part of a year, and we remained friends afterwards. He'd introduced me to several friends of his in the swinging lifestyle, and during our relationship I'd introduced him to some of my favorite fetishes.

But I couldn't fathom how he'd possibly think that my love of piss-play and wetting and desperation would make being a bathroom attendant attractive.

On the other hand, the rest of the ad made it seem like there was something else being asked for besides handing out mints and perfume outside the bathroom door at fancy dinner parties.

In that spirit I had dialed the number provided and left a voice message, thinking that at least the interview might provide me with something to write about someday.

I received a call back rather quickly, and the next morning I found myself ringing the doorbell of a four story brick house in the suburbs early in the morning at the end of summer.

"Good morning," said a young girl of about nineteen who answered the door wearing a traditional black maid outfit, complete with a white lacey headpiece.

"Good morning," I said. "I have an appointment with Miss Paula."

I'd never seen a maid outfit in real life before, at least not outside of a costume or Halloween party. I looked over the maid's shoulder into the house, wondering if I might see a tuxedoed butler somewhere.

"Of course," said the young lady. "Follow me please."

She led the way down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. As I followed her up the stairs, I noticed that despite the maid's outfit appearing to be formal, the skirt was improbably short, and the young lady wasn't wearing any panties.

"How the fuck can she bend over?" I wondered. "I'm not even trying to peek, and I can see she waxes herself."

"Please wait in here," said the maid at top of the stairs. "Mistress Paula will be along shortly."

"Thank you," I said, walking into a room lined with bookshelves.

At the far end of the room was a large piano, and several sofas arranged in a conversational semi-circle.

I walked along looking at the titles on the shelves, noticing that most of the books looked well used, indicating that they'd been read instead of bought solely for decorative purposes. To my surprise I spotted a litter box in the corner of the room.

"Weird fucking place for cat litter," I thought, noting that it appeared to be unused, and the room didn't smell like or show any signs of a cat.

I heard a door open behind me and turned to see a brunette woman whose hair showed faint streaks of gray enter.

"You must be Sally," she said, extending a hand. "Please join me by the piano where we can chat."

"Thank you," I said. "This is a beautiful room."

"I love to read," said the woman, gesturing towards an easy chair. "Would you like a glass of water, or juice?"

"No thank you," I answered with a smile. "I've had lots already this morning."

"Good," said the other woman, smiling broadly. "As you may have guessed my name is Paula. Most of my staff calls me by my first name, and if you take this position, I'd expect us to become close enough that you would be comfortable doing the same."

"Is Paula suitable for this interview?" I asked. "I want you to be comfortable, but I don't want to be too informal while trying to make a good impression."

"Paula is just fine," she said with a grin.

"I should admit right up front that I'm not too sure about being the type of candidate you're really searching for," I said. "But Professor Matthews passed along your ad and urged me to at least have a conversation with you about your needs."

"Professor Matthews knows some very intimate things about my lifestyle and predilections," said Paula. "He told me you would be an ideal fit for my needs, and I trust his judgement entirely."

"What exactly are your needs, Paula?" I asked. "You're looking for some sort of bathroom attendant?"

"A very special kind of bathroom attendant my dear," said Paula. "Allow me offer a demonstration of the kinds of things that occupy a fair portion of my thoughts and heart."

She reached over to the small table next to her chair and pressed a button.

"Please hold any questions or judgements and just watch," Paula continued. "When the demonstration is finished, I will explain a little about what I want, and then provide all the answers you might require."

"Fair enough," I agreed, skeptically wondering what I'd just gotten myself into.

We sat quietly for nearly a minute, until the door at the far end of the room opened and the same maid who had opened the front door entered. She closed the door behind herself and came and stood close to us.

"Yes Paula?" she asked.

"I want you to go," said Paula. "While my guest and I watch."

"I can do that," the maid answered with a happy grin. "How?"

Paula pointed at the litter box, and the maid nodded.

I stared dumbfounded while the maid walked over to the litter box, picked it up, and brought it over by the sofas and placed it on the floor.

The maid undid two buttons on her shoulders and pulled the front of her uniform down, exposing her bare breasts. Both of her nipples were pierced, and a tiny chain connected the two metal studs, each stud and the chain glittering in sunlight that came through the bay window on the other side of the piano.

The maid then straddled the litter box and squatted down. Without her having touched it the short skirt rode up completely, so that she looked nude from the waist down. She leaned back and supported herself with her hands, allowing us to have a close up look at her bare cunt.

I sat transfixed, unable to process what was happening, but aware that I'd regret it later if I didn't closely watch one of the things that aroused me more than anything else in the whole world.

The maid's deliciously tiny slit suddenly produced a drop of almost clear fluid, and then another, and the drops became a dribble that was soon a powerful stream, falling from her opening to the absorbent litter, a soft hiss the only sound in the room.

And then she was done and shook her hips gently before standing up and taking a step backwards. She picked up the litter box and returned it to the corner of the room and then nodded to Paula before moving towards the door.

She paused and pulled the top of her uniform up, covering up her breasts, before opening the door and exiting the room.

"As you have no doubt deduced, I am a connoisseur of golden play in almost all its forms," Paula said. "I like to watch, to be watched, and to share the experience of peeing in and on unusual things and in unusual ways with others whenever I can."

"That was...that was beautiful," I said softly.

"Believe it or not that young looking woman is nearly twenty-six years old," said Paula. "She's doing post graduate work in human psychology and hopes to write a paper about her observations while working for me. Anonymously of course."

"Don't you worry that people will know who she worked for?" I asked.

"All of my employees sign ironclad and legally enforceable non-disclosure agreements," Paula said. "They are free to learn and observe and apply that knowledge to their own professional and personal lives in whatever way they choose, as long as none of it leads back to me."

Try as I might I couldn't hold back a knowing grin, suddenly understanding the want ad a little better.

"Besides even if someone suspects where my sexual interests lie, it's unlikely to harm my reputation," Paula continued. "Everything I do is consensual, and I'm not embarrassed to embrace the things that arouse and fulfill me."

"Life is too short to live any other way," I agreed.

"We agree on that," Paula smiled. "I also pay rather generously. The young lady who just relieved herself so beautifully for us is having her tuition covered. Even if an employee doesn't share my personal fascination with the kinkier aspects of piss, she will leave here well compensated and respected."

"Is she one of your bathroom attendants?" I asked.

"No, she isn't," said Paula. "She answers the door, takes deliveries, handles some of my correspondence, and keeps herself hydrated when she's on the grounds in case I require a visual diversion. Or someone to pee with."

"What would the bathroom attendant's job be?" I asked, curious lust tight in my belly.

"As I said earlier, I enjoy golden play in several different ways," Paula smiled. "I adore wetting myself, both in clothing and in diapers, and often pee away from my house when I'm out running errands or tending to business."

I grinned again, delighted to be in the presence of someone who enjoyed the things she did.

"During your shifts you would be required to accompany me when I leave the grounds," Paula said, grinning back at me. "In order to help me rediaper, powder, and clean myself after I wet. Or to assist me however I might need, if I pee somewhere unusual."

"Unusual?" I asked.

"I take it from your grin that you are indeed the kindred spirit to this golden fetish that our professor friend told me you were," Paula laughed. "I like to pee outdoors, and in public places where I can do so discreetly and safely. I sometimes need a lookout, or someone to help with my balance."

"Would your bathroom attendant be peeing with you?" I asked.

"She must be willing to watch me pee of course, since that's something I crave," grinned Paula. "If she would be willing to relieve herself when I do so I could watch her as well I would be delighted. When that behavior would be appropriate of course."

"What about here at the house?" I asked. "Does your bathroom attendant have any duties here?"

"Making sure that I have plenty of diapers and pull-ups, and powder and wipes of course," said Paula. "You would oversee bringing plenty of these things with us, and of making sure we're fully stocked here at the house. You would also have to handle washing my pissy things."

"Your pissy things?" I asked.

"I like to wet my panties," explained Paula. "I adore the feeling of my wet and warm pee against my skin as it soaks into something dry. I sometimes stay hydrated enough that I wet several pairs of panties in one day. I also like to pee in a diaper in bed and sometimes there are leaks."

"I assume you have laundry facilities here in the house?" I asked.

"Oh yes," said Paula. "Most of the laundry goes out. But I prefer that the things I pee in and on are discreetly washed here. Sheets and towels mostly, and lots of panties, and some pants and skirts. You must have other questions. By all means ask them."

I took the folded ad out of my pocket and read it again.

Help Wanted: Personal Bathroom Attendant. Duties to include being responsive to personal requests and needs, making sure needed supplies are ordered and stocked and ready to be used at all times, providing dryness, providing a finish, encouraging discreet interactions, and providing hydration as requested.

"What does providing a finish mean?" I asked her. "And the part about discreet interactions?"

"Sometimes I will have a companion who enjoys the same wet play that I do," Paula explained. "On those occasions I especially like finding somewhere unusual to pee, and those interactions require extra discretion."

"For instance," she went on, "one person can pee behind a bush and claim an emergency if they are caught. Even with a friend or employee nearby."

"That makes sense," I said. I loved to pee outdoors, but I seldom peed where there was any chance of being caught.

"However, two people peeing together often looks exactly like the erotic encounter that it is," Paula said. "Those times call for a rather vigilant lookout. Not to mention a certain boldness in suggesting alternatives."

"By alternatives I gather you mean suggestions on other places to pee?" I asked.

"Exactly," said Paula. "I am always thrilled to find new places and new ways to experience this obsession of mine. Does that make sense?"

"It does," I agreed. "What about the finish though?"

"Peeing arouses me," said Paula. "Watching it, doing it, being watched, doing it somewhere public or unique. And while I often enjoy deferring my arousal until I'm home, sometimes a long build up requires more than my own stimulation to achieve orgasm."

"I'm the same way," I laughed. "The longer the wait at the edge, the more effort to get over the edge."

"Exactly!" laughed Paula. "You do understand. Do you have any other questions?"

"Your personal bathroom attendant, they will mostly work with you when you're away from the house?" I asked. "What about days that you will be staying in?"

"Mostly you can work whenever you are available," Paula answered. "I prefer not to go out and indulge in this hobby alone, but you can always pick up more shifts if you're willing to observe and be observed here in the privacy of the house."

"I write from home," I told her. "So my schedule is fairly flexible. Especially with a bit of planning."

"I too am very flexible and understanding about personal schedules away from here," she said. "I just ask that we coordinate so I'll know when you'll be available to the best of your ability, and I'll keep you informed about my plans to the best of my ability. The only other thing I ask is that you stay hydrated as much as possible."

"What would the pay be like?" I asked.

"I will pay one thousand dollars a day," Paula said. "Provided you are available at least eight days a month. If I am busy, I will pay you for each day you work without holding you to the minimum."

I sat up a little straighter, unable to believe I'd heard correctly. Eight thousand dollars a month? That was more than ninety-thousand dollars a year!

"What if when you wish to watch, someone is unable to go?" I asked her.

"I don't expect anyone to be able to go on command," Paula grinned. "Many of my girls can, but they've gotten used to me and used to my requirements, like the young lady who peed for us a few moments ago. If you cannot hold it while I'm on the phone with someone, I don't expect you have a full bladder ten minutes later."

"That sounds fair," I said.

"This is something that I am very passionate about, and something I enjoy very much," said Paula. "But it is fun for me and if anyone I'm with isn't enjoying it then it ceases to be enjoyable for me as well. So, I aim to focus on the fun of it and not worry about the rest."

"I am definitely interested," I said. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"I gather you enjoy peeing?" asked Paula.

"I love to pee," I said with a grin. "Especially in front of people. Both men and women. I like to watch people pee, and I adore peeing outdoors. And I also like wetting myself, although I mostly do that at home in the shower where clean up and laundry are easy."

"A girl after my own heart," smiled Paula. "I have three questions for you. Where is the most unusual place you've ever peed?"

"I have a photographer friend who takes a lot of nature photos," I told her. "She and I and another friend were out hiking in the country once and found an abandoned house. On each floor there was a trapdoor, and from the third floor you could see all the way down into the kitchen."

"How big of an opening was it?" asked Paula.

"About two feet by two feet square," I answered. "We spread newspapers around the kitchen and the second floor, so we could track splashes and misses. Then we put a ladder over the hole on the third floor and sat on it to pee. We had a contest to see who could get the most pee into a bucket on the kitchen floor."

"Who won?" asked Paula with a grin.

"I did," I laughed. "But it was close. What are your other questions?"

"Besides the toilet or the shower, where do you pee most frequently?" asked Paula.

"I have an old bedpan," I replied. "From the 1950s. I love to sit in the middle of my living room or on my bed and pee in it."

"I'll bet that's a beautiful sight," said Paula.

"If you like I can bring it with me at some point," I told her. "You could watch me use it. Or use it yourself."

"That would be delightful," she said. "My last question is, do you have to pee right now? If you do I have a request."

"I do," I said. "What would you like me to do?"

"I would like us to pee together," Paula said. "To signify the possible beginning of a new working arrangement."

"I think I would like that," I said, thinking of the litter box.

"Perhaps some inspiration first?" said Paula. "Come with me please."

Paula stood and headed for the door, and I got up quickly and moved to keep up with her. Paula was apparently not a woman who dawdled.

We went down to the first floor, and around a corner and down a narrow hallway, coming to a wooden door. Paula opened the door and stepped inside, with me following curiously.

The room was tiled, with several plastic chairs scattered about.

There was a tiny refrigerator mounted on the wall, and Paula opened it and removed two bottles of water.

"In my employ it is essential that you stay hydrated constantly," she said, twisting the cap off a bottle and handing it to me.

I took a long drink as Paula pressed a button near the door. Paula just had time to take a drink from her own water bottle when the door opened, and two women filed in. Each was wearing a pair of khaki pants, a polo shirt, and sandals.