text
stringlengths 5k
422k
|
|---|
This story is pointed at fans of middle-aged woman desperation. It is based on different experiences I have gathered over the years. I assembled what I saw and heard about that kind of situations when a woman is coming home and urgently needs the toilet.
We spent all day at my girlfriend’s home. In the early afternoon she went to take a bath. I relaxed in the living room, watching TV, when suddenly I heart the front door was opening. From my angle of view I couldn’t see the other side of the hallway, but I clearly recognized the heels clacking sound of her mom. She slammed the door and dropped her handbag on the floor. It was followed by a few quick steps and I heart, how she rushed to open the bathroom door, where was also the toilet. When she found it locked, she moaned loudly. This caught my attention. I immediately realized that her mom urgently needed to use the toilet. It seemed she was extremely desperate, as I noticed she even didn’t take off the shoes. She began to beg her daughter through the door: “Jenny! Are you going to take long?... I really have to pee… ” and said some other things, explaining how urgent the situation was. Unfortunately my girlfriend was got in the bathroom just a few minutes ago, so it was obvious that she was going to be delayed quite a bit. My heart rate jumped! I moved discreetly aside, so I could see her. I couldn’t skip such sight of desperation. Danielle, her mom was smart dressed in a dark blue office style, pencil skirt, and beige pantyhose. She was a 42 years old, nice looking lady. I tried unnoticeable to take a look at her while she was at the bathroom door with her back to me. It was shocking the way, how she was standing, bounced up and down, while she was begging her daughter to be faster. She was obviously very desperate. I could imagine how she was holding herself on the way back. And I was wondering what she was planning to do now, knowing she had to wait at least ten minutes.
At that moment she probably didn’t know, I was there. When she stepped out of the door, I turned back to my place, so I didn’t want to see me that I was spying behind. She began to walk undigested in the hallway. I couldn’t see her, but I was hearing how the heels clattered nervously on the floor. At one moment she came closer to the living room and she was surprised to see that I was there. She immediately tried to concentrate and hide as much as possible her predicament.
- Hi, I didn’t know you are here – she smiled me and maybe realizing that I had heard what was happening with her.
- Hi, How are you – I pretended that I was focused on TV and didn’t mentioned her bad situation.
- I've been running errands all day and I was in a hurry to get home because… I really have to go to the toilet – while she was saying me that, she bent her leg at the knee in a typical desperate manner.
- Sorry, but you have to wait a while. Jenny just went to take a bath – I said with sympathy.
- I hope she will come out soon… I really have to pee…
She turned back, knocked on the bathroom door, asking Jane to be hurry again. Then she got off the shoes and came to me in the room. She looked what I was watching on TV and sat on the next armchair by me. We started talking about common things. We’ve known each other for a long time and it seemed she didn’t feel so uncomfortable to expose her predicament in front of me. She couldn’t sit still in the armchair. She tried to be not so obvious, but while we were talking, she continuously changing her position on the seat. Her knees were constantly moving up and down, squeezing each other. A little bit later, she crossed her legs and slightly bent forward. I tried to keep the conversation, but she looked quite distracted. As we talked, she suddenly interrupted me.
- Oh, I’m going to pee in my panties, I couldn’t wait much longer – she made a desperate grimace and quickly pressed her fist in the crotch and bent at the waist – What she is doing there? – continued murmuring.
I couldn’t say anything in that situation. I really didn’t know what to say and how to help her. A half minute later she seemed to have regained control for a while. We continued talking, though she looked more tense and distracted. She mentioned that she had been out of the office today, so it caused to put off her need to pee for a long time. She didn’t expect that she couldn’t use the toilet, when she gets home.
She kept fidgeting and started crossing and uncrossing her legs, literally in 10 seconds. Thereof her over-knee length skirt was lifted a lot, exposing her thighs. At one point I had a nice view of her underwear. She was with white lace panties. The sight was so hot, especially in the combination with that body colored pantyhose. Maybe she noticed where my gaze was directed and realized that her skirt was raised a lot. She stood up and straightened the skirt. Then she walked a bit around the room and stopped by the window. Now, I looked at her in the back. She was slightly hopping from one foot to the other, kept holding her hand in front of the skirt. In the way she was bending her legs, made her butt bigger and sexy in that tight skirt with a nice back open slit.
It was left about ten minutes. Jane should come out in any moment. Danielle got to look more impatient and nervous. I looked at the TV, but with an end of the eye I watched what a pee dance she did by the window. Suddenly, she moaned again and abruptly crouched. She remained frozen in that pose for about ten seconds, without saying anything. Then, she turned to me, pressing her crotch through the skirt and said.
- Please, go and tell her to come out immediately! I’m about to pee myself…
I went quickly to Jane. Fortunately, she was just finishing and was going out in a minute. Then, I quickly walked back to the living room, to calm Danielle. But she was gone. Тhe balcony door was opened and Danielle was outside. I was walking to her, saying that Jane was almost done, when she waved me through the window, giving me a sign to stop. I stopped in a meter from the door. She said in a low voice: “Please, don’t come here right now, wait me inside.” While she was saying that, I was already hearing a sound of running water. It was coming from her. I froze in a moment, didn’t know how to react. She was staying on the spot, looking down. I could see her just above the waist through the window. I couldn't see her below, but it was clear, that she was peeing herself. Then I saw the floor around the door and noticed some fresh drops. I realized, she was lost control and rushed outside.
I moved myself inward to the room and looked away, so I didn’t want to embarrass her, though I was thinking at the moment, how the pee was pouring down her legs. But, I could only hear the sound. It was lasted about a half minute. After a short pause, she walked back, stood up at the door before enter inside.
- I peed myself – she said softly and looked at me.
I instinctively looked at her legs. Тhe pantyhose around her feet was completely wet. There were also some wet stripes around the ankles.
- Do you feel much better now? – I tried to calm her.
- It’s, so much better. But everything on me is completely wet.
At that moment Jane was appeared, loudly saying she was ready. She saw how Danielle was staying at the door and asked:
- You can go… Why are you waiting…
- Well, I already did it - Danielle said with an apologetic smile.
- Where? – Jane asked anxiously.
- On the balcony floor. You can see what a puddle I was produced here.
Jane continued to star her mom with a misunderstanding. Danielle walked inside and said straight away:
- Sorry, but I couldn’t hold it any more. I peed in my panties.
- I did not understand that is so urgently – Jane began to apologize.
Danielle walked through the room and I saw her at the back. There was a big wet patch on the skirt, started below the butt. The pantyhose were painted with big wet strips on all over her legs. The fabric around the slit was totally soaked. She had a complete accident. I saw she felt embarrassed for sure, but she looked so hot with that wet clothes. |
Hello! I always thought that my next male omorashi story would be about Tim Drake, but I got requested to do a Nightwing story! It's actually been a long time since I've done a male omo story (and just generally a long time since I've done anything really), but here it is, finally, after just so so so many set backs.
“Looks like I’m going to be late. The ‘boss’ is not going to be happy.” Nightwing laughed. The former boy wonder raced through the streets of Gotham atop his motorcycle, effortlessly navigating through alleyways and backstreets of his former home.
“I’m sorry,” a bubbly voice spoke over his headset. “I didn’t mean to keep you that long.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Dick grinned, “I definitely don’t regret a second, Star.”
“I’m glad, Dick. Let us hope you feel the same after meeting with Batman.”
“Trust me; not even Brother Blood could ruin my mood tonight.”
“Well, it is nice to see that I have such a positive effect on you.” Starfire laughed.
“It is, and you do. But I’m approaching the cave now, so I better let you go.” Nightwing was coming upon a steep cliff face with a waterfall cascading down its side. The hero, however, showed no sign of slowing as he approached the chasm separating him from the cliff. In fact, he accelerated even faster. He urged his bike into the air, leaving the ground behind as he soared towards the cliff.
“Good luck and send Damian my regards.”
“Will do. Bye, Star.”
“Bye, Dick.”
Just before Nightwing’s bike would have collided with the cliff face, the might veil of water divided before him, opening up to reveal a cave entrance. Nightwing’s bike landed inside the cave flawlessly. The waterfall closed behind him, and elaborate mechanical structures sealed the stony cliff behind him. A long narrow cave corridor with a bright electronic light at the very end stretched before Nightwing.
“You’re late.” An irritated voice spoke from the shadows.
“Oh, hi, Damian.” Dick grinned. He wondered just how long Damian had been waiting for him to arrive. “Starfire says hi, by the way.”
Damian Wayne, the blood son of Batman and all-around general terror. The resemblance to his father was uncanny; even at his young age, Damian had mastered Bruce’s scowl. Perfected even. Though he had his mother’s green eyes, the way they rested and studied everyone was purely his father’s. “Oh, you were with her.” He rolled his eyes. “I would have assumed you might have been doing something worthwhile with your time if you were keeping father waiting. Clearly, I have overestimated you.”
“Trust me; you will understand when you get older.” Nightwing smiled, trying to imagine Damian expressing romantic attraction to anyone. Dick hoped that Damian knew that the hearts you give your date on valentine are meant to be candy ones.
“I don’t need to be older to understand your priorities lie in base urges rather than our mission.”
Speaking of base urges… Nightwing couldn’t help but bounce his leg slightly. He was quickly becoming aware of a somewhat pressing need developing in his bladder. That wasn’t quite here nor there, at the moment, though. “Our mission? Gotham isn’t my city anymore, Damian. Blüdhaven is my mission. I’m here as a favor.” Perhaps Dick’s predicament was making him a tad more snippy than he meant to be.
Damian scoffed under his breath. “Blüdhaven, Gotham, it’s all the same. We’re the reason criminal breathe easier when the sun comes up.”
“Huh, I guess it makes sense that at least one Robin would actually listen to Bruce’s lectures,” Dick smirked. “I prefer to think of it as we’re the reason people can still breathe easy when the sun goes down. But to each their own, I guess.” And I, for one, would breathe easier if I could use the bathroom before listening to any more of this recycled lecture.
“Your optimism is refreshing.” Damian led the way to Bruce. Dick wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not.
The narrow tunnel opened up to a massive underground base. The Batcave. High above their heads in the darkest parts of the cave rustled the occasional bat that used to make Dick feel anxious when he first joined Bruce’s crusade. Stretching across the cave were the trophies of Bruce’s victories: Freeze’s gun, Two-Face’s coin, Joker’s playing card, a ridiculously giant penny, and a freaking animatronic dinosaur just to name a few. In the distance was a collection of Bruce’s fleet of bat-themed vehicles. In the center of the room was the Bat Computer, a massive collection of monitors and devices that compromised the most powerful computer this side of the Watchtower. Sitting at its seat was the Bat himself.
“You’re late,” Bruce said without looking back. Bruce was a sight to behold when the façade of the billionaire playboy fell away; all that was left was the imposing presence of one of the most dangerous men on the planet. Bruce was dressed in the batsuit, but his cowl hung around his neck, revealing his jet black hair, and his stern, brooding face.
Dick leaned over towards Damian. “You really are your father's son.”
“And you better not forget it. I am the true hei-”
“Yes, yes. The true heir to your father’s mantle. I assure you, we are all well aware.” Alfred interrupted, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “Master Richard, it is good to see you again.”
“Alfred!” Nightwing hugged him. “How have you been?”
“As well as I can be, I suppose. Though between the two brooding heroes, I don’t know how it is that I have any remaining hair.”
“Trust me; I know how much these two make you want to pull out your hair.”
“If you are quite done, fraternizing, I believe father intends to begin the stakeout,” Damian interjected, obviously impatient to begin working.
“Right. Remind me who we are watching again?” Nightwing leaned over Bruce’s chair to see the monitor.
“Black Mask,” Bruce spoke up. “I believe he has gone beyond simple drug and arms dealings to something else entirely.”
“I don’t suppose ‘something else’ means philanthropy?”
Bruce ignored Dick’s joke. “I trust you are ready?”
“Always,” Damian spoke up.
“And here I was hoping to have time for one of Alfred’s cucumber sandwiches.” And a bathroom. Dick shifted his weight slightly. “But, I guess there is always time afterward, right, Alfred?”
“Indeed, master Richard. Please ensure the two Wayne’s don’t stir up too much trouble for themselves while you are out.”
And there was the reason Dick was even here in the first place. Batman didn’t need a Nightwing and a Robin to handle a stakeout. Unfortunately, however, the world’s greatest detective still hasn’t quite uncovered any leads on how to connect with his son. At least not like Dick has. Of course, Dick came to help, he knew just as much as Bruce, and in some ways, even more, just how much a child needs a parent.
“We are more than capable of handling ourselves.” Damian sneered, but his heart wasn’t in it.
Damian shuffled his feet slightly. He kept his eyes on the factory across from the rooftop he was perched on. His legs trembled slightly. He grit his teeth in an effort to regain control of his own body. It didn’t take Batman to know the poor kid needed to use the bathroom. The three heroes had been watching the factory for any activity for two hours already, and Dick wagered that he had probably already needed to use the restroom when they had left.
Dick wasn’t in a much better position himself. Thankfully, with Bruce focused on trying to connect with his son, Dick was allowed a little more privacy as he bounced from foot to foot. It’s not like he was ever very skilled at staying still normally anyway.
“Damian, you are losing focus.” Bruce broke the silence.
“I’m not losing focus. I am just…”
“Just what?”
“Nothing. Just let me get back to the task at hand.” Damian shot back, a little harshly, even for him.
Bruce backed off but continued to cast concerned glances at his son.
Damian continued to fidget despite his best efforts. It must really be an emergency if the kid who was raised by ninja assassins can’t keep still. Dick mused to himself. Even ignoring his current predicament, Dick was familiar with what Damian was going through. He had become Robin when he was even younger than Damian after all. Honestly, it was amazing he made it out of any of the early stakeouts with dry tights at all. The problem was, he had no idea how to help Damian now without embarrassing him in front of Bruce. Dick sighed. He would have to let the situation ride itself out.
Barely ten minutes had crawled by, and Damian could scarcely keep himself from dancing in place. His legs buckled beneath him. His hands had spent the better half of the night clenched tightly into fists that rested stiffly at his sides. All at once, his body froze for a moment before jerking back violently.
“Damian, what’s wrong?” Bruce demanded.
“Alright!” Damian blushed furiously. “I need to… relieve myself.” He spat out the words distastefully.
“Why didn’t you… go before we went out.”
“I was… preparing for the mission.”
He was waiting for me. Great. This is my fault. Dick frowned. “I- I can watch the factory on my own for a little bit. It’s not like we need three sets of eyes anyway.”
“Right.” Bruce agreed hesitantly. “Come with me, Damian.” Bruce guided his son off the rooftop.
“Now, when do I get to take my bathroom break?” Dick wondered aloud; his eyes drifted to the corner of the roof. Bruce would know. Bruce, of course, had a strict policy against urinating on rooftops no matter how urgent the need was. Like I said: it’s a wonder how I made it through any of the early stakeouts with dry tights.
The need was growing urgent, though. While Bruce was helping Damian sneak into a public restroom somewhere, Dick was stuck watching Black Mask’s men listlessly mill about the factory. Whatever was going down tonight had the men almost as antsy as Dick. Of course, they probably have a bathroom they can go to when they need it. I mean, Black Mask is a monster, but he’s not a MONSTER.
Dick couldn’t keep himself still. He was a world-class acrobat, a hero trained by Batman himself, and most importantly, an adult, but he still couldn’t stop himself from “potty dancing” like a little kid. With Bruce and Damian gone, he no longer felt the need to keep up any pretense that he wasn’t completely dying to pee. He openly grabbed himself. He hopped from foot to foot. Crossed his legs and uncrossed them again. He felt like he would explode at any minute.
The last time Dick felt this close to having an accident… well, he did. He couldn’t keep himself from blushing at the memory of a mission with Barbara that had gone wildly wrong. In his defense, Ivy’s mind control didn’t exactly prioritize the bodily functions of who she controlled. Besides, did Babs really need to kick him in the stomach?
“Feeling antsy, Nightwing?” Damian asked.
Dick jumped. He hadn’t heard them return. “Uh, yeah. Just trying to keep limber.” Great now I can take my turn at the bathroo- wait is that? “What’s Bane doing here?”
“Looks like I was right. Black Mask has broadened his operations to include moving venom.”
“Oh, I see. When you said Black Mask had gone beyond drugs and arms, what you really meant was that he just combined the two.”
“I hardly see what the big deal is. I’ve fought much stronger opponents than Bane, father.”
“Don’t underestimate Bane. He’s more than just muscle. He’s an expert combatant and master strategist.”
“Master strategists or not, I imagine it’s safe to say that if you knew Black Mask might be dabbling in venom sales, you have a plan on how to handle him.”
To answer, Bruce produced a vial of blue liquid. “This should reverse the effects of venom and prevent Bane’s muscles from absorbing anymore.”
“Great. Inject him, and let’s kick his butt and get this over with.”
“It’s not that simple. The drug will take time to take effect. We need to keep him busy while his system absorbs it.”
“Great, so we piss him off with a little prick and then let him rampage until he tuckers himself out. Can’t wait.”
“If you aren’t up to the task, father and I are more than capable of dealing with Bane ourselves.”
“Don’t sound too eager to get rid of me.” Dick rolled his eyes. “I’m just a little disappointed I don’t wear a cape anymore. I’ve always wanted to try bullfighting, but it always seemed so inhumane. But Bane would completely circumvent the whole ethical dilemma.”
“Alright, let’s move in. Nightwing, Robin, and I will draw his attention. He won’t expect you to be there; while he’s distracted, you will inject him with the compound after that you and Robin take care of the men while I handle Bane. Understood.”
“Understood.” Damian and Dick agreed. The three moved into position, Nightwing hid in the rafters while Bruce and Robin flanked Bane.
“Ah, Batman. I was wondering when you would arrive. And you brought my men a plaything I see.” Bane taunted.
“But wait, there’s more,” Nightwing called out. He dropped on Bane’s back and injected the compound into his neck. Before Bane could react, Nightwing flipped backward off the hulking man.
“Nightwing, I see you are here too.” Bane kept his voice even as he swung his fist at Nightwing. Dick ducked beneath the fist and moved out of Bane’s reach. “No matter, the three of you are no match for me.”
“You know, I’ve had a lot of bad guys tell me I was no match for them. I don’t think any of them ever managed to beat me. Granted, I don’t think I’ve ever really been beaten by a bad guy in general. Just saying, maybe the odds aren’t in your favor.” Dick shot back.
“Nightwing, Damian, fall back. Bane is mine.”
“Sure thing, boss-man.” Nightwing moved to intercept the charging henchman. At least now, I have an excuse to dance around. I might be bouncing around, but I can’t correctly use the same aerial techniques that I’m used to. Mostly just awkward low angles and whatever clumsy footwork keeps my suit dry. Move over Drunken master style, trying not to pee my pants style is here to… well, just here.
“So I’ve got to ask? Are you Bane’s men or Black Mask’s?” Nightwing quipped as he danced around the thugs. “I only ask because, with Two-Face and Penguin, you know who you’re dealing with.” He jabbed his escrima stick into a thugs solar plexus, knocking him out of the fight. He swayed perfectly in sync with another thug’s strikes so that they missed on either side of him, before he following up with his own, somewhat frantic, blows.
“If you were Two-Face’s boys, you’d have like one half of your outfit all torn up and burned and the other looking nice and clean.” Nightwing’s unsteady stances left much of his usual power out his blows. At least electrified escrima sticks still sting no matter what. “Now, if you were Penguin’s men, you’d look like, well, penguins, I guess.” Nightwing grimaced, trying to keep from soaking himself while staying in the fight. His evasive dancing was becoming less graceful and more akin to squirming in place.
“I’m just saying whoever your boss is, they are doing a horrible job branding. I mean, didn’t Black Mask used to have his guys wear black masks? Am I just remembering that wrong? Maybe he phased them out so he could be The Black Mask? It seems a little egotistical to me.” Nightwing found himself panting from the effort to keep himself dry. But at least the thugs were finally all down. “Oh well. Guess I should just ask the big guy when Batman’s done with him.”
“Congratulations, you’ve managed to bore them all to sleep with your foolish banter.” Damian rolled his eyes.
“What am I supposed to do? Not make conversation while I fight with them? That’s so awkward.” Besides, it draws attention from my predicament.
The building shook violently. A sudden gush of hot pee escaped from Dick’s control. “What was that?” He called out, regaining some control over his bodily functions.
Nightwing and Robin turned to find Batman covered in rubble. Bane stood over him triumphantly. Batman groaned as he tried to free himself from his prison.
“The venom canisters were bombs.” Damian cried.
“Very insightful.” Bane sneered. “This whole plan was a set up to deal with the Batman once and for all.”
“Forget the Batman; now it’s your turn to deal with Robin.” Damian roared, racing into battle. His sword glinted in the light as he brought it down towards Bane’s head. Unfortunately for Damian, Bane was faster than he appeared. He avoided Damian’s blow and caught the Robin by his cape. Before Damian could react, Bane hurled him into the wall. Damian crashed to the floor, dazed.
“Now watch Batman, as I kill the child you foolishly brought into battle.” Bane raised his fist and moved to smash Robin.
Nightwing’s grappling hook was fired before Bane finished his sentence. The line snared Bane’s raised fist. Nightwing positioned himself around a support beam, bending the line at a right angle to give him more leverage against the behemoth he was playing tug of war with. Despite his positioning, Bane still was putting up a fight. Dick grimaced as he placed one foot against the support pillar, pushing against it will all his strength to keep Bane away from Damian.
Dick couldn’t contain himself anymore. He felt the hot pee spill out of him. A cascade of gold sprayed across the floor beneath him, pooling around his foot that was still on the ground. He felt himself begin to lose traction, his foot slipping in his own puddle. His face burned red, partly from embarrassment partly from the effort he put into holding back Bane. His suit was drenched, the black fabric glistened and clung to his skin even more tightly than it already had. He had wet himself. He couldn’t focus on that now, though.
Thankfully his efforts had bought Batman the time he needed to free himself. Batman launched himself at Bane. “Get away from him.” He roared. He moved with more ferocity than Dick has seen from him since Tim had joined. Dick forgot Bruce could be so brutal. He turned his eyes away while the Dark Knight took down Bane.
In a matter of moments, the battle was over, and Bruce left Bane on the ground to tend to his son. He gingerly helped Damian up. “Are you OK, Robin.”
“Fine. But, thanks.” Damian looked away, embarrassed to find himself so vulnerable.
“Nightwing, are you alr- Oh.” Bruce found himself at a loss for words as he saw his oldest son standing in a puddle of his own urine. He cleared his throat. “Are you OK.”
“Yeah, just… a blow to my ego, I guess.” Dick managed to laugh despite himself.
“I see you couldn’t help yourself from compromising the crime scene,” Damian interjected.
“It’s alright, Damian. Urine doesn’t contain any DNA. Just to be safe, though…” Batman threw a Batarang, activating a sprinkler over Dick’s head to wash away the evidence of his accident. “I’ll have Alfred draw you a bath.”
“Thanks, Bruce,” Nightwing said softly, staring at his feet.
“You go ahead. Damian and I will secure the scene.”
“OK. Thanks again.” Nightwing departed, leaving Batman and Robin to fulfill their roles as the dynamic duo.
Alright! I hope you all enjoy this! As always let me know what you think! Thank you! |
Another commission from over on my Tumblr! If you like what you read, consider commissioning me--I'll have an official post on that up once I finish uploading all of my old works from my Ao3. For now, I hope you enjoy part one!
***
“Are you having fun, babe?”
Alex grimaces, doing his best to smile as he turns around in the pool, ignoring the way the cool water brushes up against his chest. He’s been at the waterpark with his girlfriend Nadia for four, maybe five hours now--it had been her idea, as a final end-of-summer activity before the two would have to return to their last year of university together--and for the first three and a half or so, he’d been having a great time. It’s sunny out, the perfect weather to go to the beach or the pool or a waterpark, they’ve already knocked all of their summer homework out of the way, and he’d just turned twenty-one earlier in the summer, meaning he’s finally legally allowed to drink.
Nadia has made sure to celebrate that last part over the course of the day, always ushering him back towards the bar at the far end of the park to grab more drinks. They’re not trying to get drunk--Alex is pretty sure he’ll want to remember what happened today when he wakes up tomorrow, and with his past experience with alcohol, anything past a few beers will probably make it so that he won’t remember a thing--but Nadia had been so convincing, always offering to pay and promising that she’ll stay sober enough to drive home without getting pulled over by the cops. And besides, it is their last week of summer break before school starts again. Doesn’t he deserve to live a little, get a little tipsy and have some fun?
That had been his mindset two hours ago, anyway, when he’d drank with no precautions. Now, he’s not thinking about having a good time before school starts. Now he isn’t thinking about anything that isn’t the throbbing ache coming from his bladder, reminding him every second of exactly how much beer he’d had throughout the day. Four big, viking-worthy glasses, probably closer to half a pitcher than a mug, plus the water he’d insisted on having alongside it to keep himself from going too far too fast. God, no wonder his need is so strong. He can’t even remember when it was he last went to the bathroom, either--was it all the way at the beginning of the day, so many hours ago?
“Alex?” Nadia sing-songs, snapping him out of his trance as she swims closer to him, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you having a good time?”
“Of course,” Alex says automatically, squeezing his legs tight together under the water. They’re situated roughly in the middle end of the wave pool, where they’ve been wading for about a half an hour, diving under the water and chasing each other around, having races to see who’s the faster swimmer. (Alex, being on the swim team in high school, usually won, but sometimes he let Nadia win just for fun.) The waves are turned off right now, but he’s pretty sure they’re gearing up to come back any second now, as they’ve been coming and going in fifteen minute intervals since they arrived.
It’s fairly easy to move around right now, too; the water is calm, the floaties and foam toys spread around the pool are all at a standstill, and there aren’t many children darting around in the shallow end, blocking the path to get out. It would be a perfect time to excuse himself to the bathroom and take care of his rather pressing need, which is pretty much the only thing he wants to do at the moment.
But Nadia is here, smiling up at him happily as she treads water (it’s cute that she’s so short she can barely stand in the deep end, but he can’t focus on that right now) with an expectant look in her eyes. She’s having fun where she is, in the pool with him, and the last thing he wants to do is ruin it for her over some silly need he should have more control over as a twenty-one year old man. He can hold it for just a little bit longer, if it means she’ll have a few more minutes of fun.
“I bet I can beat you to the deep end!” Nadia exclaims, her mouth curling into a little grin as she pushes her dark hair, sleek with water, over her shoulder. “Come on, before the waves start up again!”
“What are you, five?” Alex laughs tightly, even though he’s the one in the childish situation. He feels more five than he has in a while, all thanks to the urges coming from his abdomen. There’s no way he’ll be able to race her again without making himself seriously desperate, but he doesn’t want to flat-out say no to her. (Saying no to Nadia is probably his least favorite thing in the universe, and it shows.)
“Scared you’ll lose?” Nadia taunts, eyes glimmering with mirth as she does so. “Come on, it will be fun!”
And it’s that sight, the look on her face which she’s given him a thousand times before, that finally makes Alex put aside his uncomfortableness and agree. “Alright, fine,” he sighs, playing along with her challenge. “Last one to the deep end is a rotten egg.”
“Yeah!” Nadia crows triumphantly, before running a hand across the surface of the pool towards Alex, splashing him in the face with drops of cool water before she takes off. Alex laughs, diving into the water and chasing after her, putting all his strength into kicking beneath the surface with his muscular legs.
Fuck. If he’d thought treading water with a full bladder was hard, it’s nothing compared to actually swimming. With each kick he feels like he’s about to leak, his legs spreading apart and muscles growing tired with every stroke. Having his legs forced apart over and over again is borderline painful, and since his arms are busy propelling him forward in the water, there’s nothing left to keep the pressure on his crotch from the outside. God, he can feel the pee just sitting there, begging to be let out.
But he can’t pee in the pool! There are so many other people there, enjoying their family vacations together in the same body of water that he’s in. It would be more than rude to contaminate the water they were swimming in with his body’s own type of water, regardless of whether anyone else could tell or not. And besides, he wouldn’t want to be swimming in it, either.
“I win!” Nadia cries as he surfaces, his hands shooting up to hold onto the wall when he wishes they could shoot down to hold his penis instead. He settles for crossing his legs under the water and moving his hips back and forth as gracefully as he can, hoping that the wave of pressure he’d just felt goes away as quickly as it had come. “You know what that means. Loser buys another round of drinks!”
“Ah,” Alex pants, glancing warily towards the bar as he continues to fidget underwater. “More drinks? I’m not really thirsty, you know…”
“You don’t drink beer because you’re thirsty,” Nadia points out with a pout. “You drink it ‘cause it’s fun. Besides, it’s hot out! Don’t you want to stay hydrated?”
I’m plenty hydrated enough, thank you! his mind protests. I don’t think I could put more liquid in me if I tried!
“I’ll buy something for you,” he reasons instead, hoping his voice doesn’t give him away. “I’m already feeling buzzed enough.”
Nadia’s pout deepens, but she moves on fairly quickly as the water around them shifts. “Oh, the waves are starting again!” she exclaims excitedly as the pool around them begins to fill with movement. “Come on, let’s swim back to the other end so I can stand!”
With that, she turns around in the water and kicks off from the wall, gliding through the waves effortlessly, like some kind of Grecian goddess. Her long, dark hair trails behind her, clinging to her back when she resurfaces, but Alex doesn’t have the capabilities to appreciate his girlfriend’s figure right about then.
His entire body is frozen against the wall as his head fills with the sound of water splashing against water, crashing upon the sides of the pool and lapping at his chest. All of a sudden the only thing he can hear is dripping, churning, running water, and the noises seem to be going straight from his brain to his bladder.
God, he hadn’t realized how seriously bad he needed to go until now, with waves upon waves of liquid moving around him. His bladder feels so full and heavy inside of him, like a water balloon that’s overfilled and ready to pop at any second. All those beers, all that water… It’s all still inside of him, and he’d bet that there’s even more still traveling down from his kidneys into his bladder, ready to overinflate it even more than it already is.
He sucks in a deep breath and presses the front of his body further against the wall, trying his best to create pressure against his crotch. He doesn’t dare grind down--the wall of the pool is rather gritty, and he’d prefer not to harm his genitals in any way if he can help it--but it’s a tough battle to fight. He wishes the water weren’t so clear so that he could reach down and grab himself without anyone there to judge him, but the waterpark is so crowded, and he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. (Oh, but holding himself sounds absolutely heavenly right about then.)
Nadia, who had already swam a few feet away, turns back to give him a questioning look. “Aren’t you coming?” she asks, thankfully not noticing his strange body language, his hunched shoulders or gritted jaw. “Come on, my legs are getting tired.”
“C-Coming,” Alex says, thrusting his hips forward against the wall one more time before pushing off towards the shallow end. He doesn’t dare front crawl his way over this time--that would be much too much for his poor, swollen bladder to handle. Instead he doggy paddles towards the shallower side of the pool, trying his best to appear normal in front of the families that are watching him.
Inside his body, his bladder throbs agonizingly, demanding that he release its contents as soon as he can. He sucks his lip between his teeth as he paddles over, clenching his sphincter muscles as hard as he can until he makes it far enough that he’s able to stand. As soon as he does that, he crosses one leg over the other and bobs up and down in the water, breathing heavily as he shifts his hips from side to side. He needs to get to a bathroom as soon as possible or he’s going to get wet in an entirely different way (one that will be much less fun for everyone involved).
Reluctantly, Alex uncrosses his legs and moves forward, but every step sends tiny vibrations up his legs and across his abdomen. He gasps as a strong urge hits him, bending forward at the waist and locking his knees together under the water to fight against the throbbing pressure. His hands ball into fists at his sides, nails digging into the skin of his palms as he does his best not to let them fly to the front of his swim trunks. If he was worried about people seeing him in the deep end, there’s no way he’d be able to go unnoticed in the shallow side.
He’s just deep enough for the waves to crash straight against his abdomen, water licking at his bladder from the other side, tempting it to release without his permission. “Ah,” he gasps, grabbing the front of his thigh and hooking one knee over the other in an attempt to keep himself from going right then, right there. He needs to get himself under control, and soon, before his desperation reaches uncharted levels. Unsteadily, he staggers forward, only to suck in a sharp, pained gasp as his lower body leaves the water.
If he thought his need was bad before, it’s absolutely nothing compared to what he’s feeling now. It feels as if another pint of beer has just been dumped straight into his bladder, filling it to the brim and stretching it to its utmost limit. He realizes with a start that the water from the pool had been the only thing keeping him on the safer edge of desperation--it had made the gravitational pull on his bladder feel lesser, creating a buoyant effect on the poor organ without him noticing, and now that the pressure of the water isn’t on him, gravity is catching up.
His hands begin to fly to his crotch, only to flutter away at the last second as he uses his last bit of willpower to keep them at his sides. Insteadhe sucks his lip between his teeth and stifles a moan, half-falling back into the water around him and sighing with relief when the agonizing pressure goes away. He can still feel hot, throbbing pain coming from his abdomen, but now that he’s surrounded by the pool water again, he doesn’t feel on the verge of exploding anymore.
Still, he needs to get to a toilet as soon as possible, and it’s not likely that he’ll be able to hold it if he lifts himself out of the pool again. What is he supposed to do now? The nearest bathrooms are on the other side of the waterpark, and there’s no way in hell he’d let himself be seen hobbling around a family gathering area with his hands between his legs like some kind of pervert. Besides, he isn’t even sure he’d be able to make it to those restrooms without completely losing control along the way. He’s so desperate, he can barely think straight, and he knows for sure his face must be all red and twisted up in pain by now.
As much as he hates to admit it, he’s pretty sure that he’s only got one option left: he’s going to have to pee in the pool. It’s something he’s never done before--even as a child, he’d always held it in long enough to get to the bathrooms, even though he’d thought they were pretty gross. (And doing that had sure given him some close calls, and a few extra wet spots on his swim shorts, but hey, it’s probably best not to think about those right now.)
So, he’s going to contaminate the pool with his own bodily fluids. It should be easy--the sound of roaring, splashing water surrounds him, teasing him with the premise of relief every second, and the pool water itself is cool enough that it’s making his bladder more than a little uncomfortable. But it’s hard, trying to consciously pee where he’s not supposed to, when he knows it’s taboo, especially for a full-grown adult such as himself. He sighs again, squatting down in the shallow water and doing his best to relax, unclench his muscles, and think of the promise of relief he’s only seconds away from…
And at last, he feels a dribble of urine escape from his bladder and trail through his urethra, creating a tiny spot of warmth in the pool water at the head of his dick. He sighs, letting his head fall back and his arms float to the surface of the pool as his stream picks up, his bladder just starting to become a bit less swollen, a little bit emptier. He can feel the water around him, still rocked by waves, growing warm with his own piss, and… To be honest, it’s a little bit hot. He’s always been a bit of a stickler for the rules, but now, doing something so naughty as peeing in a public pool, without anyone else knowing that he’s doing it… He’s just starting to enjoy the feeling when he feels a pair of arms wrap around him from behind.
“Ah!” he exclaims, jumping forward, but the arms around his middle stay secured. His body freezes, locks up again, the stream of urine stopping abruptly as he stiffens up under the touch, and immediately he misses the relief he’d only just begun to get. His penis throbs, aching in time with his abdomen, and he hisses in pain as the arms around him tighten.
“Alex,” Nadia whines, pressing her front side against his back, molding herself to him. “What’s going on? You were just standing there with your eyes closed.”
“Nadia…” Alex breathes, shifting his weight from foot to foot underwater. He’s uncomfortable, he’s so uncomfortable, seconds away from peeing full-force into the pool again, but he can’t, not with Nadia so close to him.
“Aren’t you having fun?” Nadia asks, and he knows her so well he swears he can hear the pout in her voice. “You seem so stiff, babe. What’s wrong?”
With that, she tightens her hands around his waist, pulling him closer to her body… and subsequently squishing his bladder under her fingers. Alex gasps sharply, curling in on himself and finally letting his hands fly to the front of his swim shorts to hold onto his crotch. Even with the added external pressure, he can feel the water around him growing warm, the pressure on his bladder far too much for him to handle.
“Stop, stop!” he pants, but doesn’t dare push her away. Even if it cost him his own life (or in this case, his dignity) he would never even consider pushing Nadia away. Instead, he shifts his hips from side to side, leaning forward so far his chest touches the water and hooking one leg over the other, bobbing up and down urgently as he does.
Thankfully, Nadia picks up on the problem quickly. She loosens her arms around him, keeping one hand pressed to his chest while the other sifts through the water in front of him. “Oh?” she questions, and this time Alex is sure he can hear mischief in her voice. “What’s this? The water’s all warm over here…”
“I-Is it?” Alex repeats, keeping his hands glued tight to his crotch as he stems off the flow. (It hurts, he’s still so desperate, but now that he’s been caught, it just feels morally wrong to keep going.)
“It is…” With that, Nadia lets her hand trail down to the front of his stomach and pushes down once again, just once. Her other hand comes down to cup over his fingers as his breath hitches and he lets out a short spurt of pee. It takes an immense amount of effort to cut himself off once again, and his bladder protests with a series of agonized pulses, but he refuses to let himself continue to go.
“I see what’s going on,” Nadia says coyly, and Alex thanks the heavens when she removes her hand from his stomach to glide around to his other side. “Alex… You’re being a bad boy, aren’t you? Doing something like that in a public pool?”
“I-I couldn’t help it,” Alex stammers, biting at his lip until it turns red.
“Couldn’t help it?” Nadia repeats teasingly. “Couldn’t help but get all of us in here dirty? The waves are on, you know. That stuff you’re putting in here is gonna spread.”
“I’m s-sorry,” Alex gasps, hooking his knees together and bobbing up and down once again. “I just- I needed to go, and-”
“No, no,” Nadia shushes him, sticking a pool-slick finger to his lips. “No excuses, babe. You’re a grown man, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be able to hold it until you get to the bathroom?”
“But I-”
“Shh… Come on, you know I’m right.”
Alex inhales shakily, his whole body still tense and rigid from desperation. The warmth of his piss has been washed away by the waves at this point, but he can still feel the urine inside of him pushing to get out. “You’re right,” he says, hoping that she’ll leave it at that and finally allow him to finish what he’d started.
“Did you let go completely?” Nadia asks, her gaze dropping to the area just above his swim trunks. “Are you empty now, you little rulebreaker? It certainly doesn’t look like you are.”
“I- I’m not,” Alex admits, his voice going high-pitched as another wave of need overtakes him. He whimpers, clutching his dick tighter between his hands and pressing the front of his left thigh into the back of his right with all the force he can muster. “I still need to go, bad.”
“Well,” Nadia says, sounding all too pleased. “I certainly can’t allow you to keep going here, of all places. You’ll need to make it to the bathroom if you want to finish relieving yourself.”
Alex jerks his head up to meet her gaze, his eyes going wide. “But- But-” he stammers, a protest half-formed in the back of his mind, but one look from Nadia has him biting his tongue instead of continuing his sentence. The game is afoot now, and no matter how much pain and embarrassment it might bring him, he knows he’s going to play along anyway, for her sake.
Still, it doesn’t make the idea of walking to the bathrooms any more appealing. He already feels like he’s on the verge of spurting again, and if he gets out of the water and forces himself to walk normally, he’s sure he’ll have a full-on accident within the next minute.
“Isn’t there any other way?” he asks shakily, staring off in the direction of the restrooms. If he were in his normal condition, it would probably only be a three or four minute walk, but with the ball of hot, acrid piss inside of him controlling his every move, it’ll probably take at least double that to even reach the other side of the park. And what if there’s a line? Is he supposed to stand there and wait when he’s on the brink of pissing himself for all to see?
“Do you see any other bathrooms around here?” Nadia challenges, raising an eyebrow at him. “Come on, come on! The sooner you get out of the pool, the sooner you get to go!”
She grabs him by the arm and pulls him just a tad too roughly towards the shallow exit of the pool, where the water is just beginning to settle down from the waves. Alex reluctantly lets go of his crotch, and immediately lets out a strangled groan as he experiences the effects of gravity on his body for the second time that day. He wonders how the hell it feels exactly the same as it had before he’d “contaminated” the pool, despite how much he must have let out. Is his last beer hitting him already?
“Nadia, can you… slow down a little?” he manages as his girlfriend struts ahead, beads of water dripping down her body from her one-piece swimsuit. Normally, Alex would take this opportunity to stare at the amount of skin she has on show, but he’s too distracted with his own body. Every muscle he has is clenched tight, his arms and legs stiff and rigid, thighs pressed close together with every step. It’s absolute torture, having to walk like there’s nothing wrong, when it’s all he can do not to grab himself and dance around like a little kid.
They’ve made it maybe ten steps, and each one has sent extremely unpleasant vibrations up through his leg and straight into his core, jostling the liquid inside of him each time his foot lands on the ground. He winces, keeping his eyes trained on the floor to avoid any strange looks people might be shooting his way, and attempts to take a larger step to make it to the bathrooms as fast as he possibly can.
His foot lands on a particularly cool puddle of water, and all of a sudden he feels a hot jet of pee squirt out of his dick and onto the floor. He freezes in place, eyes going wide as he draws his legs in quickly and presses his thighs against each other, doing everything he can mentally to keep himself from breaking out into a full-out dance of desperation. Warmth runs down his legs from inside his shorts, and he barely manages to cut off the flow this time, so paralyzed by fear that he can barely get his body to listen to him.
“Nngh… Nadia,” he hisses, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I can’t…”
He hears footsteps pad back towards him through the shallow puddles on the floor, and then a hand comes to rest gently on his shoulder. “Come on, babe,” Nadia says, half-encouraging, half-commanding. “You can make it. Do it for me, okay?”
“But-”
“I’ll be so happy if you make it all the way,” Nadia says, her hand reaching around to curl at the back of his neck. “Won’t you at least try? Just for me?”
And fuck, if that doesn’t strengthen Alex’s resolve just enough to keep him going despite the raging need overtaking him, he’s not sure that anything will. With a muffled moan, he straightens up from his twisted, bent-in-half posture, takes a few shallow breaths, and opens his eyes. The sight of water flowing all around him does nothing to help his current situation, but he determinedly fixes his eyes on a dry spot on the wall and takes a shaky step forward, ignoring the wetness beginning to cool and become sticky on his legs.
He will make it to the bathroom, if only just to get far enough to wet himself somewhere private. If Nadia asks him to make it, he’s determined to do as she says, no matter if he thinks it’s within his capabilities or not. Even though his bladder is straining out from the waistband of his swim trunks, sending urgent messages increasingly quickly that he needs to let go now, or else. Even if he feels five seconds from exploding on the spot, so filled with beer and water that he isn’t sure how in the world he’s still hanging on. There’s nothing he won’t do for Nadia--he’s sure of that.
Another jet of hot, wet piss escapes him, but he grits his teeth and clenches his sphincter muscles together with a groan that gets lost in the sounds of the waterpark, and cuts it off once again. He can’t help but pause mid-step and shift his hips around in small, quick circles, and wish as hard as he can that he could put pressure on his crotch, even for just a few seconds. Any outside help would be much appreciated at the moment, but he knows if he lets himself grab his dick now, there’s no way he’ll be able to let go without losing the battle entirely. So instead he clenches his fists at his sides and bites down hard on his lip, taking another step towards the bathroom, a step towards release.
“That’s it, baby,” Nadia encourages him, her voice dropping low and smooth as she guides him through the crowd. “Just a little longer, and then you can pee to your heart’s content.”
“Ah… Ahh…” he pants, eyes fluttering as they pass another section of the park. This one he’d noticed when they first walked in--it’s the kid’s area, complete with a wooden play structure and several buckets that fill to the top before tipping out onto the ground and the children below it. Were he in a better state, he’d compare his bladder to the buckets, as full as it can get and seconds away from wobbling over and spilling all over the ground in a loud rush of warm, sticky urine, coating his legs and his feet and spreading into a huge puddle on the ground.
“Mmh!” he gasps, catching himself on Nadia’s shoulder as he bends forward. His knees turn inwards, locking together like magnets as he curls an arm protectively around his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tries to rid himself of the mental image. Thinking about relieving himself, wetting himself at that, is a definite no-go right now. His body surely won’t be able to handle thoughts like that while battling a bladder this full.
“You have no idea how good you look right now, Alex,” Nadia says breathlessly, close to his ear. He feels her breath ghost over his cheek warmly, and raises his head just enough so that he can look into her eyes.
I’m doing this for you, he thinks passionately, too unsteady to trust himself to speak. It will all be worth it, when I make you proud…
“Come on,” Nadia says again, lower this time. “Let’s get moving. I want to get there as much as you do, you know.”
It’s a strange sentiment, but Alex can’t bring himself to think much about it right now. Instead he hobbles forward, taking smaller, more delicate steps to keep his bladder from being jostled around too badly. “Okay,” he agrees hoarsely, his voice shaking from want. Nadia smiles at him, secretive and seductive, then turns back around and continues on towards the bathrooms, her hips swaying back and forth as she moves. Alex stumbles after her, keeping one hand wrapped around his stomach. Maybe if he looks sick enough, people will move out of his way and leave him alone, and he’ll be able to get there faster.
They’re maybe a minute’s walk away from the bathrooms now at the rate he’s going. Every step is torture, feeling the slickness of tiny puddles under the pads of his feet, and hearing the rush of water, seeing it splash and flow everywhere he looks, but the look in Nadia’s eyes when she turns to check on him keeps him going. He’s not sure why, but he feels like she’s promising him something, if he can make it all the way there.
He counts the seconds to keep his mind from turning traitor on him, and just when they’ve reached fifty-two, he raises his eyes and almost starts to cry from relief. There, right in front of him, is the sign pointing to the bathrooms, located just around the corner. Finally! he thinks, a smile melting across his face. I can finally go! I’m so close! I just need to round the corner, and then I’ll finally be able to…
Oh.
No.
As he turns the corner, his eyes land upon the men’s bathroom, just a few feet down the hall… And the line that trails out of it. His bladder screams in horror as he takes in the dozen or so boys and men who are waiting patiently for their turn in the bathroom in varying levels of discomfort. He can see a few young boys shifting their wait around awkwardly, and even one or two of the men have uncomfortable grimaces across their faces, but none of them seem to be in the state of pure, anguished distress that’s wracking through him at the moment.
“No…” he whimpers, eyes beginning to water as hope seeps out of him. He’d been so close, so close to relief, to finally being able to empty himself… Now there’s no way he’ll be able to make it into the bathroom with his dignity still intact. And here, far away from the roaring water of the pool, everyone will be able to tell if he lets go and re-wets his swim trunks where he isn’t supposed to.
“Don’t worry,” Nadia says, and then a cool hand is sliding around his arm and pulling him in a different direction. “I have other plans for you, baby. Come with me.”
Edited March 30, 2020 by squirmymochi
(see edit history) |
Here's part two!! Thank you for your support ❤️
***
At peak desperation, Alex has no choice but to follow limply. His eyes light up as he notices where she’s dragging him; he can make out a sign proclaiming Single Stall Family Bathroom further between the walls of the park’s end, and if the little green tag on the door is anything to go by, it must be vacant. His bladder practically gives out the second she throws open the door, his eyes immediately hooked on the toilet in the corner of the room, and he can’t help but reach down to squeeze himself with all his might to keep the flood at bay for just a few seconds longer…
But before he can rush forward and whip himself out, Nadia is closing and locking the door behind him, and immediately pushing herself against him, locking her lips with his as she presses him into the door with a bang. “Oh,” Alex moans, eyes fluttering as he clutches himself through his shorts. “Oh, Nadia, stop… I’m going to wet myself, I’m going to have an accident!”
“No, you’re not,” Nadia says in a voice that screams sex. “Here, I’ll help you.”
With that, her hand dives down and joins his at his crotch, her fingers brushing up against his penis through the saturated fabric of his shorts, and the sensation of his girlfriend’s hand on him combined with the unbelievably urgency of his bladder is almost too much for him to handle. He lets out a cry of need, louder than he’d ever want to in a public space, and bucks up into her touch frantically, searching for more, more, more.
“Nadia, please,” he begs, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Please, I need… Oh… Ahh!”
“Shh,” Nadia shushes him, her other finger coming up to press against his lips as she continues to fondle him delicately. Her hand slips around his dick, fitting it within her fist as he starts to fill out despite his body’s needs. “I know just what you need, baby. Let me give it to you.”
“Mh… Ah- Ah!” Alex moans, surprised to find that he’s actually becoming quite hard. He’s never really tried to get hard while he’s desperate to go before; normally, Nadia has him hold it for her, and then they have sex. He’s also surprised to find that he kind of likes it, the experience of being full to the brim, bursting at the seams, and being touched like this at the same time.
“That’s right,” Nadia coos, then presses her lips to his again, fitting her body flush against his and grinding her leg against his crotch. Alex manages to tear his hand away, if only to get more friction from his girlfriend’s thigh against his cock. He doesn’t even care that there’s a toilet less than five feet away from him… He’s so turned on that the need to pee has come second in his mind’s ranking of what’s important right now.
In fact, he can feel himself start to lose it once again, his bladder rejecting the urine it’s been forced to store for so long. He moans hotly into Nadia’s mouth, and she clenches her fist tight around him, cutting off the stream as soon as she can feel it on her hand.
“Who said you had permission to go yet?” she murmurs seductively, her lips brushing his. “Come on, babe. You know better than that.
“S-Sorry,” Alex pants, eyelids fluttering as Nadia trails her fingers up his body, stopping at his bladder. “Please, no… If you do that, I’ll-”
“Don’t worry,” Nadia whispers, “I’m not that cruel. But I do think you need a punishment for letting go without permission.”
“Wh- What?”
“Hm…” Nadia taps her finger against her chin a few times, before her eyes light up once again. “I know,” she says decisively, and begins to move even closer, pressing her body against his. His hardness slots between her legs perfectly, the insides of her thighs warming the tented fabric of his swimsuit. She must be standing on her toes to get this angle on him, and even through the haze of desperation and arousal, he can’t help but find it cute.
“Wh- What are you d-doing?” he manages, but Nadia doesn’t reply. Her body is molded to his, chest pressed against him, legs squished up against his. Her weight settles lightly on his bladder, and he flinches back further against the door, but she doesn’t put any more pressure on it than she’s putting on the rest of his body. For one holy second, he wonders if he’s safe from her teasing, if maybe his “punishment” isn’t going to be so bad after all.
That’s when he feels the wetness start to collect in his swimsuit.
Alex gasps, his hand flying down to the front of his shorts to clutch himself, cut off the flow of hot, golden piss that’s somehow escaping him--only it’s not. It takes him a second to realize that he isn’t the one who’s peeing; Nadia is. Crushed up against him, with his dick between her legs, she’s the one letting go, getting her fluids all over the floor of the bathroom, and all over him. He lets out a strangled moan as the sound of splattering fills the room, as urine soaks the fabric around his incredibly sensitive penis. His bladder contracts harshly, and he can’t help but add his own little burst of piss into the mix, but being as hard as he is, it’s not as easy for him to let go as it might have been a few minutes ago.
Somehow, despite being the worst kind of torture he could possibly imagine, the idea of Nadia releasing herself onto him is almost… kind of hot, as well. He’s never really been into this kind of stuff the same way that she has, but something about her giving him a punishment for disobeying her command reminds him just how much he wants to please her, to make it up to her. He sucks in ragged breaths of air as she continues to go, pressed against his body so that the urine runs down both of them, and squeezes his eyes tightly shut, biting his lip against the need to relieve himself with her.
It feels like the moment never ends, and yet within half a minute, Nadia’s stream is tapering off, and she’s pulling away from him, using her pointer finger to trace a line down his cock, which is still straining hard inside of his shorts, oversensitive to the touch. He’s pretty sure his erection is the only thing keeping him from losing control of his body entirely, making him needy and desperate in a different way from before.
“Keep going, please,” he pants, lip caught between his teeth as his eyes flutter open to meet Nadia’s. She smiles at him sweetly, and for a split second he’s sure she’ll indulge him just this once, but instead she steps back a few paces, drawing her hand away from his body and towards her own.
“I would,” she starts coyly, “but where’s the fun in that? I mean, what kind of reward would that be if I didn’t even give you a challenge?”
“Nadia,” Alex groans, reaching down to stroke himself without thinking. He’s so hard, so painfully erect, and combined with the fullness and sensitivity of his poor bladder, he’s pretty sure he won’t last another minute without coming or peeing, or both.
“What about this?” Nadia grins wolfishly at him, and he just knows something bad is coming. He can see it in the way her eyes sparkle mischievously, in the curve of her smile. “If you can make it back to the car, I’ll give you something even better than a handjob. You know what I mean?”
She winks, adorable, terrible, and teasing. Alex whimpers as she reaches out to remove his hand from his penis, where he’d been stroking it up and down almost without meaning to. He’s so overstimulated, he feels like he’s going to combust if he doesn’t come soon… But the idea of having sex with Nadia sounds all too tempting in the moment…
“C-Couldn’t we just do it here?” he asks shakily, eyeing the all too inviting toilet over her shoulder. He’s pretty sure he’ll start pissing the second he’s allowed to come, and he’d prefer to have somewhere to go nearby for when that happens. Plus, he really isn’t sure he’d be able to make it to the car--the parking lot is just outside the waterpark entrance, which is on the other side of the park. Walking past all that splashing, flowing water again… He shudders violently just thinking about it.
“Absolutely not,” Nadia says, mock offense in her voice. “There’s not enough privacy here! What if some family is standing outside right now, waiting to use the restroom, and they hear somebody moaning and panting from inside?”
“B-But-”
“It’s either in the car or not at all, Alex,” Nadia tells him firmly. Her voice has that kind of subtle command to it that most people don’t notice, but most people aren’t Alex. He’s had years to learn all about Nadia’s subtly voiced commands, and he’d consider himself an expert on this tone in particular at this point.
He must be absolutely insane, to give up the chance for the release he’s been craving for almost an hour and a half now, just to chase a different kind of release he hadn’t even wanted up until five or ten minutes ago. Any sane person would have kindly declined, let their body decide which need was more important, instead of letting what’s between their legs think for them. But Alex is so incredibly turned on right now, hard and straining visibly through his swim shorts, and every breath makes the fabric brush up against his dick so tantalizingly… He doesn’t think he can handle not taking Nadia up on her offer.
“Okay,” he pants, completely out of breath. His face feels flushed redder than a ripe tomato, and he’s sure he looks like a total wreck, even to people who don’t know he’s seconds away from exploding in more ways than one… But he doesn’t have it in him to care anymore. Even if he has to clutch himself all the way to the car, even if he has to stop every few seconds to dance around like a little child… He’s determined now more than ever to make it through the parking lot, and get his reward.
Nadia draws closer, leaning up on her tiptoes to press her lips against his one last time, before she pulls him away from the door and latches onto the handle, holding it open and swinging herself around to the other side. Alex takes as deep a breath as he can, trying his best not to squish his bladder any further, and casts one long, wistful glance back at the toilet sitting mere feet away from him, practically calling his name. He must be insane… But if there’s anything that sounds better than pissing his need away right now, it’s having the hottest sex of his life with his girlfriend.
With his mind made up, he turns and exits the bathroom once again, his bladder absolutely screaming in protest as he once again denies it the release it craves. He glances down and catches sight of the gentle swell of his bladder poking out from his stomach, as well as the not so subtle tent at the front of his shorts. He grimaces at both sights, hoping no one will pay him much mind as he hobbles out into the passageway behind Nadia. They must seem suspicious, a young couple walking out of a single-stall bathroom together, one with a clear erection and the other with an air of satisfaction about her. It’s crazy that they seem like that before they’ve even had a chance to have sex.
Alex has never been much of an exhibitionist; usually, his logic prevents him from doing anything as risky as this, but he finds that he doesn’t have it in him to care at this very second. Half of his mind is focusing on not coming in his shorts, the tantalizing brush of wet, saturated fabric against his most sensitive area a kind of torture he’s never known before. He’s pretty sure he’s never been this hard before, never needed sex so urgently. He feels the same way actors pretend to feel in cheesy pornos, where they beg and plead for their partners to let them come this very minute, or they’ll simply explode.
The other half of his brain is having relatively similar thoughts, although these are coming from his bursting bladder rather than his raging erection. His mind is occupied with keeping every liquid he can inside of his body, denying himself even the tiniest of leaks. He feels seconds away from losing the battle and flooding the floor around him with warm, golden urine, creating a pool of his own and at last feeling comfortable and empty again. The thought is so tempting that he feels himself spurt, despite his hard on, and has to bite his tongue hard to keep him from gasping out loud.
Uncaring of what anyone else thinks anymore, he shoves a hand into his crotch, squeezing his cock as hard as he can and hooking one leg over the other, making low whimpering sounds in the back of his throat as he tries to regain control. It feels like he’s holding back a literal ocean, and he’s reminded once again of the pints and pints of beer he’d ingested earlier, without ever once considering the desperate state they might leave him in. God, he can’t imagine that there’s even an ounce of space left in his poor, overfilled bladder. What if all of the beer hasn’t made its way inside yet? Can he possibly fit another drop?
He doesn’t ever remember being this desperate before, and there have been plenty of times when he’d lost control from less. Nadia likes to make him hold it at home, although she usually drags him into the shower with his clothes still on before he reaches this level of need. And even before he’d met her, there had been times when he’d been too busy at work or studying to get up and take care of his situation, which had left him feeling plenty full. Still, he doesn’t think he’s been this bursting in his entire life, in all twenty-one years of existence.
“Come on, babe,” Nadia says from above him (he must have hunched over at some point, because she’s usually about a head shorter than he is). “You’ve gotta keep going if you want your reward. Don’t worry, I’ll walk fast. I want to get there, too, you know.”
Alex can’t decide if it would be better for her to walk fast, and get him to the car quicker, or walk slow, and give his overworked body a break. He settles for clamping his mouth shut and hobbling after her, half-bent over and with a hand clutching his penis through his shorts. With every step he takes, the friction from his hand and swimsuit drive him crazy, and he feels tiny drops of urine escape from the head of his dick at the same time. Positively sure he can’t stop them, he settles for clenching his jaw tight and praying that the little dribbles don’t become a stream anytime soon.
They’re almost at the entrance to the park, and Alex is starting to regret letting his dick do the thinking for him. Sure, he’s still incredibly horny, and slipping inside his girlfriend would probably feel like heaven right now, but he’s pretty sure wetting himself in front of a thousand strangers at a kid-friendly waterpark would kill any erection he might have had before.
And oh, is he close to wetting himself. His abdomen feels like it’s been filled to the very top with water, and it’s all racing to get out, filling out his dick both with blood and with a thin stream of pee. He feels a longer jet escape and moans embarrassingly loudly, letting his other hand join his first clutching at his penis as he bobs up and down on one leg. He feels like a little kid, forced to hold it until he has permission to go, with a tiny bladder and a one-track mind. (Well, he supposes he’s a little more evolved than that--he is focusing on both not peeing himself and not coming, after all.)
With his hands between his legs, bent over forwards with his legs locked together at the knees, he presses on. People must be giving him the strangest looks, but he doesn’t pay them any mind, intent on getting to the car and finally taking care of his still raging erection. His eyes focus on the shape of Nadia’s body as she leads him out through the gates and into the massive parking lot, trying to keep his mind off of his bladder and think about his incredibly sexy girlfriend instead.
His foot hits the pavement, and immediately he’s hit with a gust of cold air as his body leaves the walls of the waterpark. Alex feels a full-body shudder and gasps as his bladder contracts sharply, eyes widening as he feels a long, three-second burst of piss explode past his sphincter muscles and re-wet his previously cold bathing suit. His legs, already sticky from half-dried piss, wobble under his body, and he moans once again, clutching himself as tightly as he can to get the flow to stop.
“Nadia, Nadia!” he whisper-shouts, eyes practically crossing with the power of his desperation. “I need to go, I- I need to pee, now! I- haaah- can’t hold it!”
Nadia turns around, one hand on her hip, looking thoroughly unimpressed, yet he can tell from the spark in her expression that she’s still just as turned on as he is. “What, you can’t make it to the car?” she challenges, raising an eyebrow at him. “We parked so close to the entrance, though. It’s only what, thirty or forty feet away?”
“I can’t,” Alex cries, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “I- I need to go so bad, I- haah, I have to go!”
Nadia steps forward and reaches down, pressing her own hand against his penis, and Alex moans again, torn between wanting friction and release. “Come on, baby,” she says, her voice low and sultry. “Don’t you want me? You know you can only have me if you make it.”
“I’m trying, b-but I’m so full,” Alex gasps, panting, eyes rolling up to meet Nadia’s. “Please, just let me-”
“No,” Nadia says. “You don’t have permission. You can’t go yet.”
With that, she removes her hand with a single upwards stroke, sending Alex’s mind into overdrive once again. Shakily, he takes a step forward, and feels a long gush of pee burst into his shorts and splatter tellingly onto the ground. He takes the shallowest breaths he can, feeling as if anything deeper than a short huff of air will cause him to burst on the spot.
He should have just taken the opportunity he’d had before and pissed in the family restroom when he’d had the chance. Now he’s out in the open, holding himself for dear life and mere seconds away from disaster. He’s not even sure if he’d be able to have sex with Nadia in his current state, no matter how aroused he is. What if he really does piss himself in front of everyone, all the innocent kids and judgemental parents? How will he ever live it down?
He supposes there was a reason why Nadia wanted to come to the furthest waterpark away from them, after all.
Another step sends another burst of pee splashing down onto the ground, and for all that Alex has leaked and spurted, he certainly doesn’t feel any better. He has to pause, bring one leg up off the ground to press his thighs together and bob up and down, shifting his hips this way and that as he makes quiet little panting noises, doing his best not to moan and sob out loud. He’s so full, he’s much too full, and he knows he won’t be able to last much longer at the rate he’s going.
But Nadia wants him to keep going, to push himself further than he has before. She’s fixated on him, he’s sure, even though it might not seem like it right at that moment. He can tell from the little looks she shoots him over her shoulder as he stands behind her and squirms frantically, and he knows the only thing on her mind right now is him.
It’s this thought that motivates him to untwist himself from the human pretzel he’d become and inch forward, trailing after his girlfriend with a string of pathetic, embarrassing whimpers and gasps falling from his lips. He thanks the stars that they actually did park relatively close to the waterpark’s entrance, only a few rows away from the gates. It gives him at least a little peace of mind, that he won’t have to stagger through the entire parking lot with two hands on his dick, vigorously avoiding eye contact with confused children and their scandalized parents as he goes.
He’s panting now, from the strain and effort his body is putting into staying upright, standing normally, and clenching every muscle he has control over. His body is shaking all over from the stress he’s putting it through, and his jaw is clenched so tightly that it hurts, but he hardly notices. All of the focus he has left is spent putting one foot in front of the other, and over, and over again, until he catches sight of the car about twenty feet away, just one row over.
He’s sure now, that he won’t be able to make it through sex. As painfully hard as he still is, the tiny part of his brain that’s still thinking rationally reminds him that he’s still leaking every few seconds, and that the pressure sex would put on his bladder would ultimately be his end. His new goal is to make it to the privacy of his car’s row, where he’ll be hidden between
Finally! he thinks, relief washing over him all at once. Finally, he’s at the car, the final destination, the last goal for his tired, tortured body to work through. Soon he’ll be there, hidden amongst the tightly packed cars, and he’ll finally have the privacy and time he’s been denied for so long, he’ll finally be able to relax, let go, and let it all out…
It’s the thought of relief after hours of holding in so many pints of beer and glasses of water that ultimately proves to be too much for him, the final straw on the camel’s back--or rather, the last drop to make him overflow. He lets out a startled cry as he feels his muscles weaken for just a second, and a long, forceful stream of piss is suddenly flooding his cupped hands and splattering onto the ground noisily.
“Ah!” he gasps, squeezing his dick as tightly as he can and dancing about wildly, lifting his left leg to curl around his right and hunching over as he rotates his hips in frantic little circles, but it’s no use. As soon as he thinks he has the first stream under control, a second, longer spurt re-wets his hands and continues to puddle around him.
“Nadi- nngh, Nadia!” he exclaims, hunching over as more piss splatters onto the ground. “I’m- I can’t h-hold it anymore! Ahh, haah, I have to go!”
“Wait!” Nadia commands, whipping around and darting forward, one hand outstretched like she wants to help but can’t. “Alex, we’re in public. Don’t you want to make it back to the car?”
“I-I can’t,” Alex sobs, letting out a shuddering breath as his body convulses. He’s too full, too filled, there’s too much water inside of him and it needs to get out now, or he’s going to explode.
He clenches his muscles as tight as he can, cutting off the third stream, and pain spikes through him from his abdomen into his stomach. Gasping, he falters, and urine gushes out of his cock like a faucet’s been turned on. “No, no no no,” he pants, eyes wide as he crushes his cock between his hands, doing everything he can to stop the flow of pee from coming out. But it’s no use. His body is too tired, too overworked to even entertain the idea of holding it in for another second.
With a final pang of agony, his bladder contracts once again, and this time there’s no stopping the torrent of piss from splashing out of his still hard penis and onto the ground below him. He lets out an absolutely devastating moan of pleasure as his legs give out beneath him, landing on his knees on the rough pavement of the parking lot as urine pours out of him in buckets. The relief he feels is absolutely overwhelming, whiting out his brain and making him forget where he is, forget that people might be looking at him, forget everything that isn’t him focusing on the all-encompassing pleasure wracking his body.
He’s never felt this kind of release before, never experienced something so intense and mind-numbingly good. Even some of the best of his orgasms have never felt as wonderfully pleasurable as this moment, pissing to his heart’s content after over two hours of holding it in. He feels his flagging erection start to grow harder once again as the relief hits him head-on, leaving him loose-limbed and with an almost high feeling as he goes. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers Nadia’s hand on the back of his neck, her hip against his shoulder as she stands in the puddle forming around him, but he can’t bring himself to open his eyes and apologize just yet.
After what must be over a minute of him going and going and going, his stream begins to weaken. Alex sighs, squeezing experimentally to get the last few drops out so he knows he’s completely and blissfully empty, and one by one his senses come back to him. The first thing he feels is rapidly cooling, sticky wetness from the crotch of his shorts all the way down his legs, pooling under his feet as he kneels in his own bodily fluids. The next thing he realizes is that he’s kneeling not only in a puddle of his own piss, but also in the middle of a public parking lot, with families and couples all around to see his shame.
His face flames red as his eyes fly open, and he makes horribly embarrassing eye contact with one or two shocked waterpark goers before his head turns to meet Nadia’s gaze. She’s smiling down at him, looking somewhere between exasperated and pleased, and that expression alone makes up for all of the embarrassment he’s suffering at the moment. She strokes his sweat-damp hair back from his face and bends down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, but she pulls away when he chases after her for more.
“Not yet,” she tells him in the same sultry voice from before. “You’ve been bad, Alex. Bad boys don’t get any rewards, now, do they?”
“N-No,” Alex replies, eyes darting down to meet his own gaze in the reflection of the pool of piss. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I really couldn’t hold it any longer.”
And he really had wanted to please her, too. He’d tried so hard to hold on just for her, to be a good boy and do as she asked him to. He’s disappointed in himself that he couldn’t make it just the littlest bit longer, just to make her happy.
“It’s alright, baby,” Nadia whispers, brushing her fingernails against his cheek. “You’ll just have to try again once we get home, won’t you?”
“Try again?” Alex repeats, perking up just a little bit. Nadia giggles and reaches out a hand to help him to his feet. Cool urine rushes down his legs and he shudders from the feeling, as well as from Nadia’s touch against his chest as he rises.
“It’ll be even better when we’re at home,” she says lowly. “I’ll be able to make you hold it for as long as I want to, and we won’t have to hide from anyone anymore. You’ll be able to squirm and dance and moan as much as you want to… Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Despite the ache in Alex’s abdomen, and the overall bone tiredness throughout his body, he feels his dick react just the littlest bit at her words. His face is still flushed with embarrassment from having an accident in front of so many people, and he’s still sore and exhausted from coming down from such a long, tiring hold, but surprisingly enough, he finds that the scenario she’s describing sounds rather nice.
“Y-Yeah,” he agrees shakily as Nadia leads him to the car, a promise on her face. “Sounds good.”
Now he really can’t wait until they get home. |
So, this is my first story. Sorry it's kinda weird. Hope you enjoy it, regardless.
"Sally, I can't believe you." Her father said disappointed.
Sally had really done it now. In the middle of the night, she vandalized her fathers car, covering it with drawings of dicks with a pink spray can.
"I had to go to work in a goddamn dick-mobile!" He shouted. "Why would you do this?"
Sally said nothing, not wanting to speak or even look at her father.
With Sally not saying anything to explain herself, her father left to calm himself down, only saying he'd have something to say at 5.
Sally Went to her room. She wondered what he'd have her do as a punishment, but decided whatever it was, it was worth it to get at him.
Sally was 17. She had long brown hair, and was wearing a green shirt and blue leggings. She and her father had been distant for a very long time. Ever since the divorce, she and her mother had come to hate him. However she always had to visit for the weekends. She hated it. The "dick mobile" as her father called it was one of her ways of revenge.
After browsing and texting on her phone for a while, the time soon reached 5 o'clock. Her father called her down to the living room.
"What do you want?" She asked.
"I finally decided what to do." He replied.
"Fine. What's my punishment?"
"Well," He said. "You might not be getting punished."
"Great, see ya!" She said as she went to walk back to her room.
"Oh, Come on! Get back here. there's more to it."
Sally sighed and walked back. "....What?"
He handed her two bottles of water. "Drink these."
"I'm not thirsty." She said.
"DRINK THEM." He said sternly.
Sally rolled her eyes as she grabbed a bottle, sat on the couch, and drank it (The bottle I mean, not the couch. You can't drink a couch.)
She drank the bottle rather quickly just to get this over with. "Wow. What a punishment." She said sarcastically.
"And the other one." her father said.
"The other one?" she asked. "Why? What are you planning?"
"DRINK THE OTHER ONE." He said, raising his voice.
With a sigh, she grabbed and drank the other one. The whole time, wondering "What the hell?" When she finished drinking the second bottle, she felt a small twinge in her tummy, but thought nothing of it.
She noticed her father had the camcorder. "What are you doing with that?" she asked.
"Here's the deal!" he said. "I'm giving you a chance not to get punished. Soon, the water you drank will reach your bladder. If you can stay here in this room for the next hour and a half and not pee yourself, You won't be punished."
Sally's eyes widened in shock and confusion at what her father just said. "........What the fuck!"
"Language." He said "And you heard me. Hour and a half, don't pee yourself, and you won't be punished."
"....." Sally was speechless. What the hell has he been smoking? she thought. "And if I do pee, what's the punishment?"
"That's a secret." he replied in a terse manner.
"Why do this?" She asked. "What made you even think of this in the first place?"
Her father simply shrugged. "Seemed like a fun way to pass the time."
Fun? Fun!? He thought this would be fun?
On hearing this, Sally suddenly remembered something. One night, her mother mentioned something to her friends.
"That weirdo is into women peeing themselves. Can you fucking believe that?"
Is that what this is? She thought. He's really into that? But I'm his daughter. What the fuck!
"What's to stop me from going to the bathroom right now?" She asked.
"Nothing." he said. "I won't stop you, but if you do, your punishment will be worse than if you cooperate."
"What even is the punishment? is it the camera?"
"As I said, it's a secret. But I will be recording."
So that's it. she thought. He's probably gonna film it and use it for something. Sally thought about just using the bathroom, but then she realized something.
If she goes through with this and wins, she won't be punished, and that's another way she can get at him.
This thought alone made her want to go through with this. After all, she's an adult. She's not gonna piss her pants like some baby.
"Okay then." she said.
"Alright." he said as he started the camcorder and started filming.
Now here's the thing. There's not really much to say for the first 30 minutes. The water hadn't really reached her bladder, so she was just kinda sitting there. They had the TV on though. Ooh, TV, yay!
Now, after the 40 minute mark was when she started to feel uncomfortable. Nothing too serious, but enough for her to notice it.
After an hour, It was enough to make her want to hold herself. She was worried about doing that though as her father was looking at her and still filming. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of watching her struggle.
15 minutes later, that became a pipe dream. She crossed her legs and squeezed. Not too hard, though, as she still didn't want him to know. She looked at him to check and, unfortunately, he had a small grin.
"Don't be shy." he said. "By all means, do whatever you need to do to win."
Sally scoffed. Hearing that made her mad. Her father acting like this was just some game. It meant so much more to her. But he was right about one thing. She has to win. With that, she squeezed her legs together more just until the urge to pee died down a bit.
An hour and 25 minutes in, She could hardly sit still anymore. She was constantly switching between squeezing her thighs, having her hands in her crotch, and crossing her legs.
Her father laughed. "you're like a pretzel." He was saying it to get on her nerves. and the worst part was it was working.
Sally kepts holding on until finally
Ring ring ring ring!
The timer finally went off, signalling that she had won.
"YES!" she shouted as she got up, and raised her fists in victory. She quickly walked to the toilet. it was practically calling her name. "Sally. Sally. come pee in me. You know you want to."
"Hang on!" Her father said, stopping her.
Sally winced in pain before turning to face him. "What? I won."
"Yes, you did. And congratulations." he said. "But how would you like to raise the stakes?"
"Come on! You can't just change the rules!"
"I'm not changing the rules. I'm just giving you something more to gain."
Sally was getting really annoyed now. She wanted to pee, dammit! "What are you talking about?"
"Another half hour. If you lose, you still get punished." He said. "But if you win, I get you a ticket to the concert to that band you like."
"Fourty Hands?" She quickly asked. They were Sally's favorite band. She loved their music, and it just so happened that they were on tour, and would be in town next month.
Hearing the name of that band made her father cringe "Yeah, those guys. I'll get you a ticket if you hold it for just a half hour more."
Sally wanted that ticket, but she also wanted to pee. Like a lot. She really had to pee now.
"Come on." He said. "When are you gonna have another chance to see them in person?"
Sally bit her lip in thought. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. But could she hold it? She could. Could she?
"Just a half hour, right?" She asked anxiously.
He nodded "30 minutes. Well 29 now. The timer's going."
29 minutes. Sally's bladder felt so full, and the muscles in her crotch felt like a castle gate being attack by a battering ram. But 29 minutes
".......nnnnnng Okay!" She finally said as she went back to the couch. As she sat down, her bladder felt like it wanted to cry.
ten more minutes passed. Sally was taking deep breathes through her teeth. She had her hands in her crotch and legs crossed too. She wasn't concerned about how she looked to her father or the camera anymore. She needed to pee REALLY BADLY. She knew it, he knew it, maybe the whole world knew it, she didn't care. She wanted to win this.
If her bladder could talk, it would say nothing but profanity aimed directly at Sally for this torture.
She couldn't sit still anymore. Sally stood up and started doing a little dance, lifting her legs up and down, left and right, Kinda like she was on a Dance Dance Revolution pad.
"Want me play some music?" Her father asked.
"SHUT UP!!" She shouted in desperation, making him laugh.
Sally hated that laugh. She hated him. She's torturing herself for his amusement, and he's fucking laughing. She wanted to think about how sweet it'll be to finally win this, but that made holding it worse. Thinking about winning made her think about peeing.
Peeing? Oh, how she wanted to pee. She wished she could just run to the toilet, rip her leggings down and pee until the cows came home. Oh, how good it would be. Practically orgasmic, she thought.
"SHIT!" she shouted as a little leaked out into her panties. Fortunately, she was able to stop it. But man, that was close.
One hour and fifty five minutes. Just five more minutes, and she'd win. She could get that ticket to the band she loved, and she'd get to pee in the toilet she lo.....well, I mean, she doesn't love the toilet, that be weird, but she couldn't wait to see it again.
Two more minutes pass. Three minutes until sweet victory. Sally was not in great condition. She was sweating, exhausted, and in so much pain. But soon it would be over. Soon, she could finally relax. Just three more minutes. She could do this. She can win! SHE CAN-
What's that noise.
Sally suddenly heard the familiar sound of peeing. It wasn't her. What's going on. She looked to her father, who was playing noises on his phone. Noises of people peeing.
"Stop that!" She demanded. Hearing those clips of other people peeing made her urge to pee even worse.
If he kept playing those.... oh god.
"STOP IT!" She yelled as she grabbed her crotch and held on for dear life "...PLEASE!! STOP!!!"
But he didn't. He just played more and more peeing clips, and made them louder.
"Ahh.....Ahhh..." She tried so hard to keep it in. She tried everything she could to hold it. She did everything right.
And it wasn't enough.
"NO! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!" It started as a dribble. Then a spurt. Then the inevitable.
Sally started to pee her pants. She tried her best to hold it in, but all that did at this point was getting pee on her hands. At this point, there was nothing more she could do except let it happen. It gushed out like a hose after fixing the kink, soaking her panties, her pants, her socks, and finally, the tiled floor.
It probably felt great, like she thought earlier, but if you asked her for details, she wouldn't know. All she could think at that moment was how she lost, and that she was pissing herself in front of her father.
Eventually, she was finally empty. even thought it was only a minute, it felt like an eternity to her. She looked up at her father, who was just beaming with a great big small.
"Oh, what do you know. You lost!" he said like a total dick.
"Oh, fuck you!" Sally finally said.
"Hey. Don't talk like that."
"NO! FUCK YOU!" She shouted. "ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY! THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED, RIGHT?! YOU SICK FUCK!!"
Her father's eyes widened. "...Wait, what?"
"Mom told me everything." Sally revealed. "She told me this is your sick fetish. You bastard! I'M YOUR DAUGHTER!"
He gasped. "...No ....Sally, no. That's not-"
"FUCK OFF! I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear whatever sick thing you plan on doing with that footage either. I don't-"
Sally was suddenly interrupted by her father hugging her. Sally was ready to knock his goddamn head off, but this was different. This wasn't the hug of some sick creep. Out of nowhere, this was her father.
"Not you." he said. "Never you. That wasn't- this wasn't..... That's not what this was."
"Then what the hell was it?"
"Sally, You drew dicks on my car. I had to go to work, and had to explain to everyone who asked that my daughter drew dicks on my car. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be humiliated by family?"
"I DO NOW!" She shouted.
"Exactly!" he said, backing out from the hug, placing his hands on her shoulders, and looking at her in the eye. "I needed you to understand. Doing things like this and embarrassing others, that's not okay."
"Wait." Sally said suddenly realizing something. "Me peeing myself... was the punishment."
"BINGO!" He shouted, raising his hands to the sky. "If I just sent you to your room or made you do chores, would you have learned anything?"
Sally was stunned by his logic. "......No. I guess I wouldn't have." She admitted. "But did you have to do this?"
"It was the only thing I could think of." He said. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
This was her father? She thought her father was some sick creepy asshole. Her mother said so many awful things about him to her.
"When Mom told me you were into this, I thought you were-"
"I know." He said, stopping her from finishing that sentence. ".....I know." Her father seemed very sad at the mention of his ex wife. "....Your mother ......I don't know what happened to her. She and I were so in love, but one day, she slowly began to change." He claimed. "You noticed it too, haven't you?"
"Yeah." Sally never wanted to admit it, but she had noticed. Her mother used to be a loving lady, but years ago, she changed. This whole time, Sally blamed her father, but it wasn't his fault at all. All this time, he was still a kind, caring person, and her mother treated him like dirt. And now. so did Sally. Sally felt awful now for how she had been treating him all this time.
"Anyway, here. Take a look." Her father handed her the camera.
"....Wait a minute." She said. The moment she grabbed the camera how cool it felt. "Are you serious!?"
"I never turned it on." He revealed. "That was just to mess with you. Sorry about that. Also this." he said as he grabbed a small box from the shelf and handed it to her. Sally opened it, and inside was a ticket.
A ticket to see 40 Hands.
"I bought it for you two days ago. I wanted to surprise you."
Sally couldn't believe it. She was speechless. "....I ....You.......I'm surprised!"
The two of them started to laugh. ordinarily, that should've cause just a small chuckle, but after everything that just happened, they needed a laugh. The both of them laughed pretty hard, but Sally slowly went from laughing to crying.
"I'm so sorry!" She said with tears in her eyes. "This whole time, I blamed you for everything. I treated you horribly. I.... I... I"
Her father hugged her again. "I'm sorry too."
They hugged for a long time. Once the emotions started to calm down a little, Sally went to shower. Her father cleaned up the mess. She offered to clean it, but he said it was fine, and he'd clean her clothes in the laundry too.
As Sally washed herself off in the shower, she realized everything was different now. The parent she hated was loving, the parent she loved was kind of a bitch. Everything felt upside down now. But there was one thought that kind of made her laugh.
for some weird reason, some strange miracle. Her peeing herself brought her and her father closer together.
Edited March 31, 2020 by Figgitydoo
Grammer and spelling
(see edit history) |
Maggie went on her lunch break at 1:45pm. A little later than usual, but she was flexible. She worked at a large department store doing anything from stocking shelves to helping on cash. It definitely wasn't glamorous work, but it was helping to pay for school. She clocked out for lunch and smiled at a coworker. Tall and beautiful, she easily captured the attention of others.
She pulled an energy drink out of her bag and began to sip it while deciding what she would eat. After 10 minutes, she drained the last few drops and stood up to throw away the can. She felt full and heavy with all the liquid in her stomach and opted to skip lunch. She wasted a few more minuted playing on her phone, before punching back in and returning to the floor.
*********************************************************************
She finished her last break at 2:30, one hour before her shift was over. She did feel a twinge in her bladder, but decided to ignore it for now. The bathrooms in the store were honestly horrific. She'd use them if she really had to, but only if her need was quite urgent. For now though, she just refilled her water bottle and bounced off to the front cashes where she'd spend the remainder of her shift.
*********************************************************************
She clocked out at exactly 3:30, gathered her coat and bag from the back room and began making her way to out of the store. She paused in front of the washrooms, contemplating. She did feel a definite need at this point, but it was no where near urgent, and then bathrooms were so gross. Then, glancing at her now empty water bottle, she decided it was better to be safe and go now while she had the chance. However just as she decided this, the cleaner put up a "closed for cleaning" sign.
Oh well, she thought. She really didn't have to go that badly, and she only had a 15 minute walk to the bus stop, a 30 minute bus ride, and then a 5 minute walk home. Less than an hour. She was used to holding to some extent due to her aversion to public bathrooms, and felt confident she could make it home with minimal discomfort.
She left the store and was met with cold January air that sent a shiver through her body and made her very much aware of her bladder. She paused for a second, contemplating turning around and waiting for the cleaner to finish, but ultimately decided to continue on.
*********************************************************************
She arrived at the bus stop just as her bus was pulling away. Of course. She sat down on a bench and immediately crossed her legs. Her need had grown considerably in the 15 minutes it took to get to the bus stop, and she was beginning to get quite uncomfortable. She checked her phone to see when the next bus would get there. Okay, in 15 minutes. That's not so bad. 15 minute wait, 30 minute ride, 5 minute walk. I can do this.
She shifted in her seat, then scrolled through her phone to try to distract herself from her growing need.
Just over 10 minutes had gone by when she looked up from her phone in frustration. It was doing very little to distract her from her bladder at this point.
Oh my god I'm such a fucking idiot. Just across the street from where she was sitting there was a public library. If she'd thought of it 10 minutes ago she would have had tons of time to run across the street, take a quick pee, then be back for the next bus. But now the bus would be arriving any minute, and there was no way she'd be back in time. She crossed and recrossed her legs and squirmed in her seat, trying to get as comfortable as possible. She considered running across the street anyway and just waiting for the next bus anyway, but it was so cold out and she really just wanted to get home.
A minute or so later the bus finally pulled up. She stood up and made her way towards the doors, She was able to walk normally, but it felt like torture. 35 more minutes. I can do this.
She took a seat towards the back of the bus, tightly crossed her legs, and bent forward. She once again pulled out her phone to offer some kind of distraction.
Halfway through her journey and she could not believe how much her need had grown. She tried to be as subtle as possible, but she was constantly crossing, uncrossing, and recrossing her legs, as well as squirming in her seat and occasionally bouncing up and down. Not making it to a bathroom in time hadn't ever crossed her mind until this point, but she was beginning to become worried. Every bump the bus hit sent painful jolts through her bladder.
She looked out the window at all the stores and restaurants that probably had bathrooms she could use before shuttering and turning away. She tried to turn her mind to something else, but all she could think of was all the liquid she drank and how there was no way her bladder could hold it all.
No. I'm going to make it. I have to. She recrossed her legs and stared straight ahead, focusing all her energy on keeping her panties dry.
Finally her stop was announced. She gratefully rang the bell and stood up to make her way to the doors.
Oof. She was not expecting the weight in her bladder when she stood. She had to pause, cross her legs, and bend forward slightly. She grabbed a bar, pretending to just be off balance. She'd be mortified if anyone around her knew her situation.
Once she regained her composure, she walked to the back doors and waited for them to open. She had her legs tightly crossed and was bobbing up and down ever so slightly. The doors finally opened and she stepped off and was once again hit with cold air. This time she was forced to double over with her legs crossed tight. it was all she could do not to shove her hands into her crotch.
Once she adjusted to the temperature she began the short walk home.
Okay, this isn't so bad. I can do this. Walking was actually helping a bit. She got to the first and only crosswalk of her journey just as the light turned red. Damn it, she thought as she pressed the button. She absolutely could not stand still, but she was on a fairly busy road and felt she couldn't break into a full on pee pee dance like a child. She tightly crossed her legs, then recrossed them, then bobbed in place, then shifted from foot to foot, trying to remain as subtle as possible, but desperately trying to hold back the tsunami in her bladder.
The light finally turned green and she set off on her way again. Although walking was helping a bit, she had to stop occasionally to cross her legs as she was overcome with waves of desperation.
Finally she was half a block from her house. She'd done it! She'd made it dry! Relief was so so close. She continued walking and excitedly reached into her coat pocket for her key but--No. No this is not happening. She checked her other pocket. No. No no no no nonono not today. No this can't be happening. She was notorious for forgetting her keys, but she'd never been locked out in such a state.
She had now reached her front porch and was frantically hopping from foot to foot, trying not to cry.
Okay Maggie calm down. There is a spare key in the shed in the back yard. Get the key. Unlock the door. Pee. You can do this.
She tried to slow her breathing and she made her way to the back yard. As soon as she passed through the back gate she shoved her hands deeply into her crotch and broke out into a panicked pee pee dance. She had to go. Now.
She frantically looked around her small back yard for a place to squat, but she really didn't have any shrubbery or anything. And the flood of her yellow pee on the winter snow would be so obvious to the neighbours.
Maggie no. Get it together. You can hold it. Get the key. Unlock the door. Pee. You got this.
She glanced towards her back door and in desperation hobbled there to try and open it. She was disappointed but not surprised when she was met with a handle that wouldn't budge.
She hobbled over to the shed, hands still buried in her crotch, and opened the doors.
Okay it's in an empty flower pot on the top shelf. You can do this.
She attempted to reach up, but when she moved her hand away from her crotch and stretched up she felt a dribble escape into her cotton panties.
No no no, she thought and rammed her hand back in place. She took a deep, but laboured breath and tried again. She reached into the flower pot, half expecting the key to not be there with all the bad luck she was having, but was absolutely delighted when her fingers touched the cold metal.
She stuffed the key in her back pocket and pushed her hand back into her crotch. She hobbled her way through her back yard, but froze once she got to her back gate. She lived in a town houses which all shared a communal laneway, meaning she'd have to go out the laneway and halfway around her block to reach her front door. She would be beyond humiliated if anyone saw her in this state, let alone her neighbours who she knew quite well.
She carefully peeled her hands away from her crotch before frantically hopping from foot to foot, trying to stop any more pee from escaping. She eventually felt okay enough to begin walking towards her front door.
Okay. Small, slow steps. You can do this.
She hobbled along, unable to fully straighten up, and finally made it to her door, only having to stop twice to cross her legs as small spurts escaped.
With a shaky hand she attempted to unlock the door. She had just gotten the door unlocked when she was hit with an overwhelming wave of desperation. She gasped as she felt a dribble of pee begin to escape and started sobbing.
No Maggie. Absolutely not. You are not peeing your pants on your own front porch. That is not happening. Get it together and get inside and get upstairs.
She managed to stem the flow and hobbled inside. All she had to do was (somehow) climb up the stairs and get to the end of the hallway. Then she could finally get relief.
Not bothering to take off her coat or boots, she hobbled over to the bottom of the stairs, keeping both hands pressed against her crotch as hard as she could. She decided to take the stairs slowly, knowing she was very close to losing control. She awkwardly made her way up, in a weird sideways fashion. She lost a drop every second step or so, but eventually made it up.
She began making her way down the hallway, losing a small drop with every step she took, despite how hard she was pressing. She finally made it to the bathroom, but once again was met with a problem. She couldn't get her pants down without removing her hands from her crotch, but she knew that as soon as she let go with her hands she'd completely lose it.
She whimpered, then slowly removed one hand. A small dribble started, and rather than fight to stop it, she just focused on getting her jeans undone and down as quickly as possible. As soon as she let go with the other hand to get her pants down, a powerful stream started. She quickly pulled down her jeans and panties and slammed herself onto the toilet.
She sighed and leaned back as a powerful torrent of pee hit the toilet. She had no idea relief could feel this good.
After a full minute and a half, her bladder had finished emptying. She looked down to inspect the damage. Her panties were completely soaked, not surprising. But her jeans weren't in that bad of shape. There was a pretty obvious wet spot at her crotch that dropped down one side towards her knee. Honestly, not bad considering how close she had been to completely losing it.
She felt weirdly impressed with herself. Proud even. That was hands down the most desperate to pee she'd ever been, and she'd been able to make it to the toilet with minimal damage to her pants.
It made her wonder what her true breaking point was, and she felt a strange sense of competitiveness. She wanted to try it again. |
Hi everybody. The third story from this thread: https://www.omorashi.org/topic/52533-which-story-part-2/ is now finished!
A word of warning: this one is a lot more explicit in terms of sexual content than what I usually write.
(Also, due to the new content policy, the Young Link/Inkling fic from the above thread is cancelled. Sorry.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a long day of defending Skyworld, and Pit, captain of the goddess Palutena’s centurion guards, was ready for some rest and relaxation. And there was no better place for that than Skyworlds’s hot springs, whose gold-hued waters healed the body and soul. Upon reaching the springs, Pit stripped off his tunic and shorts and headed for his favorite pool. The only problem was that someone was already there.
Palutena herself was seated at the edge of the pool without a stitch of clothing on, dipping her legs in the water.
“Ah, Pit,” she said with a smile. “So nice of you to join me.”
“L-Lady Palutena?” cried Pit, the shock of what he was seeing setting in. Turning bright red, he quickly used one hand to cover his groin, the other his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Palutena replied. “And there’s no need to be so shy.”
Despite himself, Pit uncovered his eyes to see his patron goddess standing before him. He couldn’t help noticing her curvy figure and how the carpet matched the bright green drapes. Palutena also seemed a little… excited. She was breathing heavily, and her face had a distinctly reddish hue to it.
“Like what you see?” Palutena asked, stretching her limbs languidly. Pit swallowed hard before he spoke.
“Lady Palutena, w-what do you want from me? I just wanted to take a bath.”
“Well,” said Palutena, now blushing even more than Pit was, “I may be a divine goddess, but I still have… needs, same as any mortal.” She reached for Pit’s right hand, which was still covering his crotch. “Or angel, come to think of it.”
“Um, I’d love to, ah, help you, but...,”Pit trailed off. It was getting harder to think now that blood was rushing to places other than his brain.
“But what?” questioned Palutena, bending over to meet Pit at eye level.
“But, uh, aren’t you, y’know, dating someone already?” asked Pit. “That blue-haired girl, Lucy or whatever her name is.”
“Ah yes,” said Palutena, smiling at the memory, “and she’s been wonderful. But she understands that we divine beings can’t limit ourselves to one partner. I mean, look at Zeus. He can’t keep it in his pants for five minutes.”
“L-leave Zeus and his pants out of this!” cried Pit.
Palutena sighed. “Pit, what’s the matter? Are you nervous? Don’t be.”
“Y-you don’t know what you’re saying!” protested Pit. “You say you want this but-”
“Pit,” said Palutena, silencing him with a finger to his lips. “I know I want this.”
That was when Pit admitted to himself that he wanted the same thing. He’d had impure thoughts about his goddess before, but he’d always pushed them aside, never dreaming he’d get to act on them. He removed the hand covering his modesty and tentatively stepped towards Palutena. The goddess embraced him and kissed him deeply, and Pit was overwhelmed by sensations; the sweet taste of her lips, her gentle hands caressing his wings, her soft and smooth skin against his… it felt so good. After a long time, they broke apart, both breathing heavily. Palutena lay down in the shallow spring and beckoned for Pit.
“Pit, there’s something else I want you to do.”
“Yes, Lady Palutena?”
Palutena’s reply was very quiet and hesitant, as if it embarrassed her to say it.
“I want you to… to pee on me, Pit.”
“W-what?” cried Pit, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard me,” said Palutena, sounding more confident. “I want you to take a pee.” She rubbed her ample chest. “All over me.”
“But… I…” Pit sputtered. “That’s not sanitary!”
Palutena laughed. “Oh, nothing we’ll be doing will be sanitary. To be honest, I’ve wanted to try this for a while now. Come on, just try it.”
Pit’s curiosity overtook his hesitation. He took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll, um, pee on you.”
“Thank you,” said Palutena with a smile. She reclined further. “Go ahead. Just let it all out.”
Pit grabbed his penis, aimed the best he could with his shaking hand, and relaxed his bladder. For a while, nothing came out. Eventually, however, Pit felt the fluid coming. Pee flowed out of him in a golden arc and splashed against Palutena’s breasts. The goddess let out a gasp of surprise and delight as the warm liquid hit her. She ran her hands over her body, spreading it all around as Pit kept peeing.
“Yes!” Palutena gasped. “More! More!”
At her request, Pit waved his penis from side to side, sending droplets flying everywhere like a sprinkler. Seeing how much Palutena was enjoying it, he tried to keep the pee coming, but after a while his stream died down. He shook off the last few drops and stared at the goddess. She was glistening from his urine, redder in the face than ever, and looked very satisfied.
“So, uh, did you like it?” asked Pit.
“Oh yes,” said Palutena breathlessly. “The warmth and the wetness… it just felt so good.”
“Glad to hear it. You know, for what it’s worth, that didn’t feel as gross as I thought it would.”
Unsure of what to do next, Pit had turned to leave when he felt Palutena’s hand on his shoulder.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked. “I haven’t properly thanked you yet.”
“Thanked me?” Pit repeated. He felt himself grow stiff. “What did you have in mind?”
“Looks like someone’s eager,” said Palutena, eyeing his groin. “Lie down in that hot spring.”
Trembling with anticipation, Pit lay on his back in a shallow pool. The next thing he knew, Palutena was on top of him, her legs straddling his chest and her lips caressing his penis. She delicately ran her tongue over the tip before taking it fully in her mouth. Pit moaned with pleasure as Palutena moved her lips up and down his shaft. The softness of her lips and the warmth of her mouth were heavenly. Her pussy was right in his face, pink and moist. Pit felt a sudden urge and was barely able to raise his voice.
“L-lady Palutena, may I-”
“Go ahead,” said Palutena, briefly taking her mouth off his penis before going back down.
With that, Pit raised his head and let his tongue explore Palutena’s waiting vulva. The goddess gasped and shivered with pleasure at the sensation. As the two of them pleasured each other, Pit wished it would never end. It was pure bliss.
“Ah!” Palutena cried, interrupting Pit’s thoughts.”Pit! I’m going to-”
Her words were cut off by a scream of ecstasy as she orgasmed, and Pit felt the warm, sticky fluids splash against his face. He was surprised to find he didn’t mind. But then he felt more liquid, hotter and in a steadier stream. Pit moved his head back to get a better view, and confirmed what he had suspected: when she came, Palutena had lost control of her bladder. She was peeing all over his face.
“Ohh… I’m so sorry..” Palutena gasped, still letting out a steady stream. “I… lost control.”
But, once again, Pit found that he didn’t mind. In fact, the warm urine felt… really good. He felt himself getting closer to the edge, but didn’t get a chance to warn Palutena. He cried out as he came explosively, blowing his load in a few furious spurts.
Both parties let out contented sighs and finally disentangled. They were red, sweaty, and their faces were drenched with the other’s bodily fluids (Palutena hadn’t moved her head out of the way).
“Wow,” said Pit, catching his breath. “That felt great. Did I, uh, do a good job?”
“I came first; I’d say that answers the question!” Palutena laughed. “Sorry I peed on you by the way.”
“It’s okay. I honestly kind of liked it.”
“Well, well, well. Looks like I’m not the only one,” said Palutena teasingly. She pulled Pit into another embrace. “We should do this again sometime.”
“I’d like that,” said Pit. “I really would.”
Palutena smiled and took Pit’s hand, leading him to a deeper hot spring
“Come on,” she said, “let’s get cleaned up. I’ll let you wash me.”
“Cleaned up?” Pit repeated.
“Yes, cleaned up! Isn’t that why you came to the hot springs in the first place?”
“Oh. Right. I guess I kinda forgot about that.”
THE END |
A while ago I posted a popular 4 part story, The City Without a Ladies Room. I mentioned at one point in that thread that I was working on another story set in the city, I even posted the first 2 paragraphs to it in my own feed ages ago, this is that story. I've been working on it off and on for months, but feel I'm finally ready to post it.
You don't need to have read The City Without a Ladies Room in order to enjoy this story or understand it. The characters are different, but the rules of the city & accepted social norms described in it are still the same.
=====
City Without a Ladies Room - The Very Desperate Date
Loren was a beautiful young mid-20's woman who lived a few stories above me at our apartment complex. I ran into her at the bus stop early this morning on my way to work, where she was sipping on a large 31 ounce (917 ml) cup of coffee. I knew she'd need to pee before long once she finished her coffee, but with no ladies rooms in the city she'd have to hold it for a good while. Probably at least until the early evening rolled around. I knew I wanted to see her hold it for longer than that, so I chatted with her for a few minutes while we waited for the bus. After a while I suggested we have dinner and see a movie later tonight after we got off from work. To my delight Loren agreed.
During the afternoon Loren texted me that she was going to have to work a few hours of overtime. She wouldn't get off from work until 7 PM. I told her no problem; I'd pick her up right from work when her shift ended. I didn’t mind the delay, it met Loren's poor bladder would be even fuller at the end of her shift, and I didn't intend to let her go home and pee during our date.
By the time 7 PM rolled around part of me fully expected Loren to ask if we could swing by her apartment, so she could pee before we went to dinner. Because of her overtime Loren had just finished an 11 hour shift, all without a single pee break when I picked her up right from work. If she asked for a chance to go home so she could pee, I was ready to tell her she needed to hold it. We were already running late because of her overtime.
Instead, with her slim fidgeting legs tightly crossed, and her too-tight skinny jeans torturing her swollen bladder, Loren said nothing about her rather full bladder. Instead she apologized for her job delaying our date by several hours. I assured her I was perfectly fine with the delay, so long as we still caught the next movie at 8 PM. I knew that certainly wouldn't give Loren any time to go home and pee first, as we still had to grab dinner. Loren knew this as well, but she still agreed without hesitation, so I happily took her to dinner at a nearby restaurant. Loren couldn't help but fidget around uncomfortably in her seat throughout dinner as she drained her large glass of soda. But of course there was no opportunity for her to get up to go pee somewhere, there wasn't a ladies room in the entire city. I loved knowing that Loren badly needed to pee, but she had no choice but to continue to hold it for hours longer.
After dinner we had about 20 minutes to get to the theater to catch the next movie. Despite her bursting piss-filled bladder, Loren didn't even bother to ask if we could stop by her apartment first so she could pee, which aroused me even more. Then again, Loren knew full well there wasn't enough time for her to go home for a quick pee break before the movie, which was quite convenient for me, and quite inconvenient for her!
At the theater there were some public urinals for the men near the entrance. But of course nothing was provided for the women, they were all expected to hold it. "Hold on a minute, I need to pee" I told Loren. She nodded politely and waited; her poor swollen bladder was no doubt very jealous while I peed just a few feet away from her. I noticed she was crossing her legs, and fidgeting around anxiously as I peed, which made me extra excited. "What's wrong Loren, do you need to pee?" I asked her casually. She nodded.
"I've needed to pee pretty bad all afternoon at work. But since there aren't any ladies rooms I could use I'm still holding it" she admitted casually, all while I continued peeing in front of her. "In hindsight I probably should have considered going home to pee over my lunch break like some of the other girls did, but I figured I could hold it till later. And my co-worker invited me and some of the guys over to have lunch and coffee at his place, since he lives right next to the office, so I accepted. His toilet was right there in the next room while we ate & had our coffee. I had about 4 large cups of coffee this morning, so I really needed to pee by that point. The guys knew I really needed to use the toilet as they all used it one by one while I waited for my chance to go. But since the guys didn't offer to let me use the toilet I knew I wasn't allowed to pee, so I just held it. I was the only one in our group who went back to work still unrelieved, knowing I'd have to hold it the rest of my shift. Even though I really needed to pee bad in the afternoon I still helped myself to 2 more cups of coffee when I got thirsty" she admitted sheepishly. Knowing Loren had a chance to pee earlier in her co-worker's toilet, but she had skipped it out of obedience to the city's rules, and she was still holding it hours later made me even more excited.
"So you've been bursting to go for a while then" I remarked casually as I finished peeing. Loren nodded as she continued to twist herself into desperate knots. "I really appreciate how you skipped your chance to go pee afterwork for me. You didn't even ask me if you could go home to pee before we went out, even though you badly needed to. How long has it been since you've last gone?" I asked curiously.
"It's been 13 hours since I've last gone early this morning, I'm glad you at least appreciate me holding it for so long. My poor bladder really hates me for skipping the chance to use a perfectly good toilet over lunch, and for passing up a chance to go home and pee after getting off from work. But with a lady's proper etiquette it wasn't really up to me if I got to go or not, it was up to you guys" she pointed out. "You never offered me a chance to go home and pee before we left for dinner, so I figured you obviously wanted me to hold it. Watching you go in the urinal has only made me need to pee so much worse now" she added as she openly held herself.
"Can you hold it till after the movie? There's really no time for you to go home and pee now" I pointed out. The movie we were seeing was over 3 and a half hours long, so Loren knew I was asking her to hold it for at least another 4 hours.
"It's going to be hard to wait that long; I need to pee so frigging bad already" she admitted candidly. "But yes, I can hold on for you till after the movie. Us ladies are supposed to hold it if we have to" she answered obediently.
With that settled we bought our tickets and went to get some refreshments. Being a gentleman I of course got Loren a 42 ounce (1,242 ml) soda, the largest size they had. It was the perfect size for a lady with an already full bladder. Even with the prospect of needing to hold on for hours more to come hanging over her head, I knew Loren would be too polite a lady to refuse it. She knew plenty of guys in the city loved it when their girl badly needed to pee, the longer she had been holding it in the better. Some prideful ladies purposely ordered large drinks for themselves just to be sexy, and to prove that they weren't concerned by the lack of a ladies room. I knew Loren was one of those prideful ladies who probably enjoyed holding it all day.
So Loren politely accepted the large drink, even with a nervous tremor in her fidgeting legs, and a hint of worry on her face. She even politely took a long sip for me, without a word of complaint about her already throbbing little pee hole. She was already dying to use the toilet, but as a lady she knew she absolutely wasn't allowed to pee in public under any circumstances! She was stuck holding it for the entire movie now. It was too bad for Loren that I had purposely chosen the longest movie possible, just to keep her waiting even longer! I had even gotten us seats all the way in the back, as far from the entrance as possible, all to slow our exit later. With all the action in Loren's swelling bladder, I doubted either of us were going to be paying much attention to what was on the big screen.
=====
It's a shorter story than usual for me I know, I'm attempting to write shorter higher quality stories lately so it doesn't take me quite as long to finish them. This story will be concluded in a part 2 at a later date. |
Sorry for the long delay, but I finally have part #2. 🙂
=====
City Without a Ladies Room - The Very Desperate Date - Part #2
I knew that Loren's poor swollen bladder was feeling quite a bit heavier than it had been a few hours ago, how could it not after that large soda I had gotten her? Her too-tight skinny jeans were no doubt painfully squishing her very unrelieved bladder as she squirmed around in her seat in obvious discomfort. But obviously I didn't intend to let Loren go home and pee anytime soon!
I leaned over and asked Loren how bad she needed to pee now that she had drained her entire 42 ounce (1,242 ML) soda. She hesitates nervously, I know her throbbing little pee hole is burning with exhaustion after all that soda. She grinds her slim thighs together anxiously, struggling to avoid springing a badly needed leak.
"I… I think I'll be ok for now, but it's getting really frigging bad Lee. A trip to the toilet would feel SOOO frigging good right about now!" she confessed as she openly held her crotch like a desperate little girl. "My bladder is nearly filled to the brim, you should feel how full it is Lee" she added, inviting me to touch her swelling bladder bulge. So I did. I was gentle at first, her swollen bladder felt hard as a rock when I lightly tapped it with my finger. Loren fidgeted around anxiously in her seat at the added pressure, but she didn't ask me to stop, so I took that as encouragement to press down more firmly. To my pleasant surprise Loren bore it all without complaint, as if her too-tight skinny jeans had left her well trained bladder numbed to the added pressure. I grinned happily at her.
"I know it's selfish of me, but I'm really glad you haven't been able to pee since I saw you drinking that large coffee at the bus stop early this morning. I knew you'd need to pee before long after draining that large coffee, but I was really hoping you wouldn't get a single chance to pee all day before we went out to the movies. It makes me excited knowing you need to pee so badly after holding it for the last 15 hours" I confessed.
"Lucky you then Lee, I live too far from work to even consider going home to pee over my lunch break. Not that I would anyway if I could" Loren teased. "I had 4 large coffees this morning, so I seriously needed to pee by the time my lunch break arrived. But of course there weren't any ladies rooms I could use, and the urinals were obviously out of the question, so I had to cross my legs and hold it like a lady should. It sucked for me and my poor throbbing bladder, but some of the guys certainly enjoyed seeing me getting desperate. One of them invited me and the other guys over to have lunch and coffee at his place, so I agreed to come along. His toilet was right there just waiting for me to use it, I could have sat on it and taken a nice long pee. But since it wasn't my toilet I needed to wait for my host's permission first; it wouldn't have been polite for me to simply ask him if I could pee. I waited for his permission to go pee, but he never gave it, even after all the guys had gone. So I just crossed my legs and held it while I drained another coffee over lunch".
"So they took you to a toilet knowing you were getting desperate after all that morning coffee. They even gave you another cup of coffee, but they didn't let you pee? Sounds cruel, but I'm glad you resisted the temptation to be impolite and pee without your host's permission. The guys probably expected you to be impolite and take the opportunity to pee without their permission, seeing as the toilet was right there. So I'm sure they were very pleased when you instead held it and returned to work still feeling very unrelieved. I hope the other girls were plenty desperate with you after lunch". Loren shook her head as she pee-danced frantically in her seat.
"I was the only girl at the office who didn't get to pee over her lunch break. All the other girls got to go home and pee. And with no ladies room available I knew I wasn't getting any relief for hours now, but I didn't mind. I was beginning to get turned on feeling all that pee brewing uncomfortably in my poor bladder. The guys even thanked me for toughing it out and holding it for them even when the toilet was right there, which got me thinking. I knew you'd appreciate it if I held it Lee, and showed up to our date in my too-tight skinny jeans, with an uncomfortably full bladder after holding it all day at work. So I decided to volunteer to work a few hours of overtime, just to keep myself from going home to pee before we went out" she concluded with a prideful smile. I nearly cummed right there in my seat!
=====
I hope you all enjoyed this. I'm sorry that this part is shorter then part #1. I was originally going to try to conclude this short series in part #2, but I've been having issues with writer's block. I frankly just haven't been liking anything I wrote to continue the series from where part 2 leaves off. So I decided to just post the part I loved, and figure out how to conclude it another day. |
Hope you guys enjoy! I will say I got a little carried away with the narrative and for some omo content may be a little on the light side but nontheless, I hope you guys will enjoy it!
Also written entirely on my phone... sooo yeahhhh.
The year was 1274. War ravaged Temaria and Redania, Velen was a barren land of misery. Mostly occupied by terrified peasants and bandits, the rule of law had long since been eroded and death stalked the land. Novigrad was not much better, since Radovid occupied the city, the witch hunts were in full, deadly swing. Fear gripped the city. On the long nights of winter good folk would cower in their homes, half anticipating the dreadful arrival of the witch hunters. Many were burnt. Good, decent people burnt alive, for simply being different. Very few dared traverse the once proud and glorious city and fewer still ventured beyond their villages in Velen. That is except my good friend, Geralt of Rivia.
It was a tough time being a Witcher. There were plenty of contracts but the pay was poor and the risks were always great, amplified through these times by the ever changing military landscape. But ply his trade he did. He killed wraiths for rich merchants, he ridded villages of nekkers, ghouls, drowners and other assorted beasts. He defeated leshens in the woods, so humans could reclaim the land, all of this and more for a pittance off pay.
However, the tale I will tell is as unusual as it was well payed. It required a fierce combination of silver, magic and intelligence to rid the land of perhaps the most unusual beast ever encountered. My name is Dandelion, so sit back and regale at the marvels this world has to offer.
The clouds were dark and moody, the rain had been lashing the blood drenched soil for days. The mud was a veritable quagmire of blood, corpses, lost possessions and abandoned military equipment. Carts lay abandoned at the side of the road, along with the once treasured possessions of the owners. Their bodies often lay nearby, as if somehow trying to hold onto what little life had provided for them. It was a sullen day indeed.
“It would be nice to know where we are going, when we left Crows Perch you said you’d tell me what it is we’re meant to be doing. I can see the towers of Oxenfurt and still...” Geralt broke the silence which had gripped the duo for the last few hours. To say he wasn’t happy, would be an understatement. Even with his lack of emotions, his indignation was clear.
“It’s best you don’t know. You’ll learn more when we arrive” I think this was a piece offering on the part of our favourite sorceress Triss Merrigold, but it did little to improve the mood of our brooding Witcher.
Geralt offered a grunt in response. Our hero had known Triss a long time and like all sorceress she was stubborn to the core, if she didn’t want to say. She simply wasn’t going to.
“What happened to that fiend contract? I heard there were... issues” Triss offered, her tone playful and sarcastic.
“Hmm. Thought you mages knew everything, guess your megascope backfired”
“Come on Geralt, I’m just teasing. Tell me what happened”
He grunted and took a deep breath.
“I heard word of a monster abducting Nilfgaard soldiers outside their camp, there was no notice but military contracts pay well so I went to investigate. I arrived at the camp where the sentry tried to extort money for access to the camp”
“Oh dear. How’d that end up?” Chuckled miss Merrigold.
“I told him I have two swords, so if I stick one up his ass it won’t be missed”
Triss shook her head and chuckled, typical Geralt, she thought to herself.
“Anyway I made my way to the quartermasters tent, biggest tent in the camp, black with the gold sun stitched into the fabric. I went in and asked the quartermaster about the contract, he said he’d pay 300 crowns..”
“Wait” interrupted Triss “300 crowns for a fiend? That doesn’t sound right?”
“Typical Nilfgaard I thought. Anyway, I said it was 700, or the beast could continue killing soldiers until he was the last one standing”
“What’d he say to that?” Inquired Triss.
“He said it would be cheaper to send a squad of good men into the woods to kill the beast themselves”
“Yeah, it’s a good way to kill your own men unnecessarily” exclaimed the sorceress.
“I told him he could send every soldier in the camp and give the fiend a feast, which would make it bigger and stronger and much more expensive for a Witcher to kill”
“Take it he gave in?”
“Hmm. He offered 550 and a new saddle for Roach, I accepted. It’s hard to find a decent saddle”
“Doesn’t sounds too bad I guess”
“I picked up the scent of rotting corpses as soon as I left the camp on the eastern side. I crossed the river and noticed a soldiers boot and a trail of blood. I followed it, eventually came to the fiends lair. There were bodies everywhere, all unrecognisable. The fiend was sleeping so I coated my sword in oil and struck it in the hind, it reared up and charged me, I dodged and hit it with aard to keep it off balance. I made a strike towards its head, but I struck it’s horn. Fucking sword snapped in half”
“Haha! The Mighty Witcher’s sword, defeated by a fat fiend. Dandelion will love this one”
“Hmm. So I’m now armed with a dagger, it’s coming at me hard and I’m rolling and spinning trying to work out what the hell just happened”
“So what was it? Defect in the silver?” Inquired Triss.
“No. When I went into the tent, I had to leave my swords outside. I left my steel sword with Roach but left my silver sword propped against the tent. Turns out, some blobtit had taken it to be sharpened and replaced it with a standard issue steel sword”
“Haha! You are kidding? Did they not notice it wasn’t an army issue scabbard?”
“No”
“Brilliant. So what happened to the fiend? I hope you didn’t fight it with a halfling sword?”
“I had no choice Triss. It kept charging and trying to impale me with it’s horns, I kept dodging but I couldn’t do that for all eternity. So I trapped it with yrden, jumped on its back and stabbed it through both eyes. It bucked me off. I was laying flat on my back, it couldn’t see, but it could smell me. I rolled clear and climbed up a tree”
“Oh my god, this just gets better” exclaimed Triss almost in full hysterics by this point.
“What happened next?”
“Not telling”
“Come on, you can’t leave me hanging like this!”
“Hmph. You tell me where we’re going and I’ll tell you the ending”
Triss smiled with a look of grudging approval.
“Later”
By this point our illustrious duo had reached Oxenfurt and were riding across the bridge over the Pontar. The western bridge was a marvel, huge stone towers at each bank suspending a road across the river. Truly magnificent.
Now dear reader I can hear you saying, haven’t I lost the point? Maybe a little, yes. However bare with me cause all is to be revealed.
Now decanted from horse back and walking side by side, each leading their own horse, Triss guided the pair towards the home of a special Oxenfurt citizen. His name was Lobard Marek. Once upon a time Lobard was a feared warrior, fighting for King Foltest of Temaria in all manner of conflicts. These days however, he was little more than a rich old man with lots of friends and a very serious problem.
The pair entered the lavish property. It was beautifully appointed with all manner of expensive materials and beast heads hung on the walls. Geralt was more interested in the beast heads than anything else, including his purpose for being there.
Triss and Lobard exchanged pleasantries, it remains unclear just how they knew each other, perhaps it’s best we don’t know. But it all seemed quite jovial, however Triss did seem a little troubled in some way. Geralt was more or less oblivious to the conversation, he was still brooding cause he still didn’t know what was going on.
The minutes whittled away but before long Triss had left Lobard with a large purse of coins, it was now Triss disclosed exactly what they were doing there.
“It’s like this Geralt. We’re dealing with something, truth is I don’t know what it is. Lobard is in the dark too, but this creature has been killing people indiscriminately for two weeks now. Two days ago his friend was killed”
“Monsters kill, what’s so unusual?”
“It’s the way they died. Nobody died in the same way, some were killed by spiders, some by snakes, others by wraiths, the list goes on”
“Hmm. That is unusual” Getalt’s interest was piqued. “Got any leads”
“Kind of yeah. Apparently there’s a guy that survived, he lives out in the Oxenfurt woods. I think we should talk to him”
Geralt agreed and the pair set off for the woods.
The rain was still lashing. Both were soaked to the skin. Geralt had extra protection from his armour but Triss, with her flowing black dress adorned with gold thread, she was exposed to the elements. Her trademark red hair seemed miraculously dry, probably a spell of some description. Thankfully they were soon at the survivors home.
Geralt peered into the window and saw an old man writing at an old wooden desk, the room was dimly lit, so Geralt was surprised he could even write at all. A harmless old man, Geralt thought to himself. Triss had went to the door and began knocking.
“Would you mind waiting here Geralt, don’t wanna scars him?” Geralt nodded in approval.
The old man answered the door, he looked younger somehow in a better light. His clothes were I’ll fitted and dirty, it was possibly the dirt that was holding them together.
“I heard you were attacked by a monster, I would be grateful if you could tell me everything you remember” asked the sorceress.
“Come in out the rain young lady” his voice was breaking and frail, quite obviously the attack had taken a lot out of him.
Triss entered and the door shut behind her. It was warm and she was relieved to be out the rain at long last.
She studied the room, it was plain and empty, seemed odd anyone could live such a basic existence.
“Miss Merrigold, I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you”
Surprised Triss enquired how he knew her.
“I know a lot. I know people’s greatest fears, I can sense it. I know your childhood, I know what happened when you were a girl. I know a lot”
Triss backed away slowly. She went for the door but It was blocked with a magic barrier, a powerful one.
“You can’t leave miss Merrigold, I shall not allow it”
Realising her predicament she fired off a ball of fire straight at the old man. As it approached, it disappeared into nothing.
“Miss Merrigold now that is naughty. You’ve been a bad girl”
Triss felt strange. A kind of inner peace came over her, she was very calm as if none of this was happening.
Her bladder contracted and a gush of pee sprayed forth. Her once pristine white panties with ornate flowers, turned dark and warmth came over her nether-region. Her pee splashed against the solid surface of the floor and left a dark stain. Her cheeks blushed red, but inside she was still calm. The pee kept coming, like a waterfall from within.
Before long her panties could take no more and the fabric had became all but see through,her most intimate area exposed to the world. Her calmness was unsettling. She was seemingly hexed.
“Your greatest fear is exposed. Your fear at losing control in any element of your life is now plain for all to see”
In mere moments the great sorceress Triss Merrigold, had been brought down to little more than a quivering girl in need of protection.
Geralt was still outside, oblivious to the peril Triss found herself in. Geralt had began talking to a passing peasant about a drowner contract and were haggling on a fee.
Inside the old man was gone. Triss stood motionless and all was quiet, except for the drips of pee still falling from her panties. She was still hexed, whoever he was, his power was immense.
Inside her mind Triss relived her childhood, all the memories she had tried hard to forget were coming back. The time she wet the bed whilst travelling with a troupe of performers and the desperate act of concealing the accident. The time she was caught peeing naked in a field whilst drunk and the time she made herself a garment that would lick away moisture to hide such accidents. All this and more came flooding back.
Triss opened her eyes and stood before her was a woman, a woman she had known from long ago. She could not remember her name but they had sexual relations once upon a time.
The woman approached, knelt on the floor and began licking her wet panties. Triss moaned in pleasure, her body was trembling and her thoughts were scrambled. Her legs shook, seemingly in tandem with the motion of the woman’s head movement. Her tongue was quick and loose, at times she even sucked the pee from the sodden panties.
It was hard to tell who was enjoying it more.
The woman grabbed the sorceress’ panties and pulled them down to her ankles. The taste was sweet on the tongue, the occasional droplet of pee the only bitterness to be found.
Still she moshed.
The woman lay beneath Triss and no sooner, did the pee spring forth again. A torrent stream of golden warmth splashed onto the woman’s breasts, where it pooled before dribbling down her side to finally pool at her ass. One stream had began venturing towards her pussy, where it squelched a little as her fingers played with her clit. Both women were naked and soaked in pee.
Triss dropped to her knees and began tongue play with the woman’s pussy, again an overly sweet taste. She grabbed her breasts and let out a moan. Her own fingers drifted and before long she was playing with herself, she gripped her wet panties in her other hand, seemingly enjoying the sensation it was providing.
Geralt was still outside, but time had passed and he was becoming concerned. He looked through the window to see the image I have presented before you. He immediately tried to enter through the door, no use, magic barrier. He tried the window, same problem.
He ran to Roach and retrieved a dimeritium bomb and threw it at the door in the hope it would break the spell. It didn’t. He swung his silver sword at it. No use. He was running out of ideas, Geralt had a theory that Triss was in the possession of a very powerful higher vampire. In his mind it was the only solution that made sense. Shapeshifting, telepathy, strong magic and mind control were all traits of higher vampires. All geralt had to do was get inside.
Geralt decided if he couldn’t get inside, he would either have to break the hold over Triss or somehow lure the beast out.
It felt like a hopeless situation, there was simply no easy way to save Triss. He was sure Triss could break the magic barrier but first he had to break the beasts hold over her.
He took some time to think, reflecting on everything he had learnt and experienced from all his years on the road. He figured this beast was driven psychologically, so maybe if Geralt could get into her head, then he could break the beasts hold.
He figured Axi was worth a try. He climbed onto the roof, he roof was made only of straw and wattling so breaking it apart was no issue, the magic barrier prevented him from entering, but he was close enough to hex Triss.
He hexed the sorceress and the beasts hold grew weaker. Before long Geralt had disappeared before her eyes. Where he had gone, she did not know.
That was probably for the best. Geralt had been taken from our world and transported to the vampires own realm, a world of torture and anguish where his countless victims, relive their own torture and pain everyday. This in turn makes the beast stronger and bolder. Geralt knew that had been tricked and Triss was the target all along. He did battle with the beast.
Triss had cleaned herself up, dried her panties using a spell and did the same for the floor. Her memory was vacant, except for the pleasure she had felt in those moments, she knew then the spell had been broken.
Geralt returned to our world, sword in one hand and the beasts head in other. He did not know this but he had been gone for eight hours. He spent time filling Triss in about what he had learnt in the beasts realm. Including the elaborate hoax to bring them there. Lobard, did not exist, he was the vampire in another form. The beast had taken the form of another to get into the head of Triss and had taken a near boundless hold over her thoughts and feeling.
Geralt asked our sorceress exactly what had happened, she replied that she did not know and did not want to talk about it. Fair enough, Geralt though, quite the ordeal.
“Sooo what did happen with that fiend contract?” Asked Triss mischievously.
“Oh yeah. Where was I?”
“Hiding up a tree”!
“Hmm. Well I was up there nearly an hour before some Nilgaardian soldiers turned up, they realised a mistake had been made and follow my tracks into the woods”
“That was kind of them! The great Geralt of Rivia, hiding up a tree!”
“Hmm. I shouted at them to drop my sword and run away, which they did. I came down, got my sword and finished the beast off. End of story”
“Huh” Triss was perplexed “that’s not how Dandelion told it at all”
“You really surprised by that?”
I think we’ll leave that there folks..... |
Hey guys! I really enjoyed writing this one!! Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!!!
As a writer I’ve done some fantastic work for some truly fantastic people, throughout the years I’ve done work for too business people, written biographies for the rich and famous and for a time I was a speech writer for a head of state. All of which was challenging and rewarding at the same time. Three days ago however I received an unusual opportunity. I was contacted anonymously, at first anyway, I later learned his identity but the opportunity stuck in my mind.
Now, in my younger days I did produce some erotica, it was mostly private and personal but on occasion I did earn some money from it and at the moment, times are hard, so I decided to take up his offer. The offer itself was simple, if I could produce a literary piece involving his particular fetish, in this case something he referred to as Omorashi, and provided it pleases him he would pay me a few thousand pounds.
I had to google what Omo was and I was surprised. It seemed unusual that people enjoyed the feeling of being desperate or wetting themselves but each to their own I guess. Nevertheless I did some more digging and ended up discovering a thriving community, comprising of people from all over the world and from all walks of life. It was definitely a varied community, compromising of everything from bed wetting content to ABDL, it stuck me as quite pleasant.
Personally I can only recall one time I had a genuine accident. I was drunk, very drunk, and being slightly irresponsible I wet myself outside a New York bar. I never thought much of it at the time, I was too drunk to care. Even the next day when I woke to realise I had wet the bed, I thought little of it, it happens, to all of us at some point or another. It did make me think though, was I missing something?
I decided to engage in the community and strike up conversations, my intent was to garner as much information as I could about what it is about this fetish they enjoy so much, how they got into it and if it was as widespread as it appeared. I got my answers, in spades. The people I spoke to were very candid and open and held nothing back, it was truly eye opening.
It was yesterday, a Saturday afternoon, when I decided how I would proceed. I needed to experience this kink for myself, I felt it was the only way to get an accurate representation of what I should be writing about.
It was a pleasant morning in the big apple, it was bright and a very pleasing temperature. The view out my apartment, looking over Central Park never grew old for me. As a Brit living in America I always admire the get up and go attitude I witness day after day. I decided to follow suit.
I got out of bed, made coffee and took a shower, my usual morning routine. I dried myself off and headed to my wardrobe to find the right outfit for my experiment. At this point, I began to feel it was quite a naughty thing to do, it was exhilarating in its own way. After all, I’m a grown woman I should not be wetting myself, certainly not on purpose but that is what I planned to do. I didn’t know what the correct outfit was, I guessed light colours would be best, that way I could see the wetness for myself, I figured that was part of the enjoyment. I also didn’t want to wear a thong, I mean I love thongs, I wear them a lot, particularly for bed but I just didn’t think that was a great idea. In the end I decided on a pair of light blue jeans, nothing special but I wanted the colour to be right. I wasn’t sure whether to wear socks, in the end I decided I would and chose a cute pink pair with tiny princesses on them as decoration. I decided to forego a top and just wore a bra instead, again bright pink with frills around the cups. For my knickers I went for a pair of royal blue bikini briefs that I like to wear day to day, quite plain but I think they’re cute.
After deciding my outfit I went to the kitchen to drink more coffee and have breakfast. I wanted to feel what it was like to become increasingly desperate and how that would influence my decision making further down the line. I drunk three cups of coffee altogether and I could feel my bladder filling up at quite a fast rate. To take my mind of it, I decided to continue with the Latin course I am enrolled on and gave myself a challenge; each question I get wrong is an extra ten minutes I have to hold. Oh boy.
My first lesson went well, being on an app it’s totally private so I had no worries about other students or teaches. It took approximately ten minutes to finish the first lesson, I congratulated myself. My bladder did not, I was still sipping coffee and I was beginning to squirm a little and becoming uncomfortable. Still, I pressed on with my second lesson. My first question was to translate a sentence from English to Latin, clear headed it’s simple enough, but when bursting for a wee, it’s a lot trickier. The questing itself was; The sister lives in the city, but the brother sleeps at home. Ahhhh ummmm.. Soror in urbe est, sed frater domi dormit… please be right… YES!! First one down, a true relief. The second and third questions went by without a hitch too, question four however was a different story. The question was; the woman is writing but the father is not writing. The answer should have been femina scribet, sed vir non scribet, but I got muddled and got it wrong. Ten minutes added to my time, not too bad I thought. I was squirming but I still had the situation in control. Problem was, I got three more wrong, bringing my total to forty minutes altogether. “Oh my god” I thought to myself, I cannot wait another forty minutes. I figured I’d piss my pants way before that.
I decided it was no longer safe to sit on my leather office chair without a towel under my ass, just in case. I crossed my legs and tried to concentrate but answering any questions was near impossible. My mind was muddled and I was beginning to tremble. My muscles were beginning to tire and I became hyper aware that I was tensed all over. I kept pressing my hand into my crotch but it felt counter productive, cause each time I did I could feel a slight moisture against my genitals, I guessed it was in my head but upon a visual inspection there was indeed a tiny wet spot. Only 30 minutes to go I told myself. I can do that.
I drank some herbal tea, the coffee had made me thirsty and I figured the tea might help, which it did but it increased my desperation many fold. All of a sudden my squirming turned into bouncing up and down, it seemed to help. I managed to whittle away another ten minutes by bouncing up and down and messaging friends. Twenty minutes left.
I received a call from a friend of mine, I have known him for years, he’s a Professor of Classics at Oxford university. We often spoke and our conversations were deep and varied, it seemed odd that he would call me whilst I was in New York though. Regardless I picked up the call. Turned out he was also in the States, on a working trip. Fundraising for the university. We chatted pleasantly for a few minutes, it helped take my mind of my impending bladder failure. Oh uh.
I felt a leak. A small one but nonetheless, it was the first time my defences had been breached. I continued to chat as normally as I could, albeit with a tingly wetness against my genital and a general feeling of impending failure. We eventually ended the call. It was exhilarating. I was sat there, rocking back and forth, my bladder aching and groaning at me for being a silly girl, with a wet spot in my knickers. I dunno what it was but it was quite a thrill. Something to do with a having a secret I guess? A naughty one at that. Ten minutes left.
My situation was now becoming near impossible. The wetness against my genitals was a persistent reminded of what was going to happen imminently. I simply couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up hoping it would help, but I could barely stand straight. I feared if I did I would wet myself entirely and I would have failed my own challenge. Uh ah. I couldn’t allow that. I was counting the minutes, they seemed more like hours. My thinking was becoming frantic. “It’s coming I can feel it!!” “It’s just a few minutes, you’re a grown woman you can do it” “Ignore your wet knickers, it’s all in your head” this is what I was telling myself.
Bing!!
I had a notification. I had a message from a member of the community I mentioned earlier, it was a general inquiring message which I was happy to receive. It was from a female member who wanted to know what I was up to, so I told her, everything about my situation. I explained I had seven minutes left to hold and that I could do it. She asked if I was still dry, I said no and blushed slightly. I was hoping she would tell me that I could go and wet myself now but no, quite the opposite. She said I wasn’t allowed yet, I had to wait ten more minutes, on top of the seven I already had!!! Urghhhhh!!! Also if I leaked again, it would be an extra ten minutes, for EACH leak!!! Oh my god I thought, well I’ve just leaked again. IVE JUST LEAKED!!! I can’t tell her, I can’t do this. Urrgh. I told her I leaked and that the small spot on my knickers was now larger and had covered the gusset. I begged for mercy, I’ll do the ten minutes but I cannot do much more. Please!???
She said no!!! It was twenty extra minutes.
I kept pleading. I even sent her a photo of the growing wetness in my knickers as proof that I could take no more and needed mercy. She once again refused and reiterated twenty minutes. Hfhgygghyvh!! This isn’t possible!!! How do people hold for so long.
Another leak.
I am not telling her. I’m not. I can’t do twenty. I don’t think I can do five. Thirty is out of the question.
The wetness had soaked through into my jeans and a clear wet spot was visible around my crotch area, it was spreading towards my ass too. Spreading… SPREADING!!! I’m loosing it!!! The leaks had turned into a solid trickle. I could take no more, my bladder was failing. The damned herbal tea. I stood up and drops dropped onto the carpet. I leaned back and patted my ass with my right hand to check the damage, it was becoming pretty bad. I was still trickling. I couldn’t stop it. I’d failed!! I tried to fight on. Even as the pee began to trickle down my legs I fought on. I braced every muscle I had. I was trembling uncontrollably and my jeans were becoming heavy. In my humiliation. I stopped fighting.
I waddled to the bathroom, leaving a trail of wee behind me. It was coming down my legs, my socks were beginning to squelch with each step. I could take no more. I stepped into the shower cubicle and I let my muscles relax.
Oh MY GOODNESS!!! Instantly I went from a solid trickle to a downright waterfall. My owe was THUNDERING down my legs and splashing into the ceramic below. I stood frozen. I could only describe it as bliss. Pure bliss. It was my bladder thanking me. I was overcome with euphoria and s certain light headedness. I was still peeing, would be for some time, the feeling it left me with, I don’t think I’ll forget it.
I shook my legs and splish sploshed in my puddle. I squatted down, out of exhaustion, my ass was just above the puddle and almost like a final goodbye, the final contents of my bladder poured through my sodden knickers, through my weighted jeans and into the ceramic. I finished. I stood up. I stepped out the cubicle. I looked at myself in the mirror.
WOW!!! My jeans were covered almost entirely. My crotch was dark, just dark, no blue was left, the innocent taken away by my folly. My ass was dripping wet and I mean dripping. I pulled my jeans down, which was easier said than done given how clingy they had become. My panties seemed beyond saving. I pulled them up, front and back so they sat properly on my waist. They were sodden and when I touched them, pee squeezed out and splashed on the floor. I took a few minutes to admire the view. Almost all the material had became soaked. On the crotch they were wet over halfway up to my waist, round the back it almost touched the WAISTBAND!!
Good grief!!! Ahem. I think I know what I’m writing about now anyway.
Where’s my vibe?? |
The setting: Station Square
Sonic, Amy, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow, and Rouge had spent the day hanging out with each other. It was a hot and sunny day, so they all had been doing their best to stay hydrated.
They had decided to end the day by going to the movie theater to watch the new Sonic movie. Like smart people, everybody had went to the bathroom before the movie started. All but Sonic, who said that he didn't need to go. Now the movie was over, and everybody was ready to go home.
"That was a great movie." Amy giggled as she replayed some scenes in her head.
"Sure was. Jim Carey made a great Eggman!" Sonic laughed, rubbing his legs together a bit. During the movie, Sonic had drank a large coca-cola all to himself, and that, along with the water he's been drinking all day, was starting to catch up with his bladder real fast.
Knuckles saw Sonic's squirming and smirked. "Gotta go, hedgehog?"
Sonic blushed and chuckled nervously. "Heh, maybe a little." He admitted.
"It's about time, I swear you have a bladder of steel. I'm jealous." Shadow smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. He still remembered his accident during his ceremony. Luckily, nobody ever brought it up again.
"Heh, years of practice." Sonic chuckled. "I could hold it for nearly a day and a half if I didn't drink much."
"But you've been drinking all day." Tails playfully rolled his eyes. "So now all that liquid is catching up to you."
"Yeah."
"Why don't you go use the restroom real quick and then we'll all go home." Rouge encouraged. "It's been a long day."
Sonic nodded. "Yeah, sure." He started heading for the boys restroom in the theater. He was nearly there when suddenly, there was a loud explosion from outside, making the ground shake. People were screaming in terror, and the hedgehog's ear twitched when he heard a familiar evil laugh.
"Eggman!" He hissed, running back to his friends as they ran outside. "Relieving myself is gonna have to wait."
"Are you sure, Sonic?" Amy blinked in concern. "Why don't you go real quick while we fight him until you get back?"
"No way, I can hold it." Sonic shook his head, squeezing his legs together a bit. "Besides, look at the size of that robot. It's gonna take all of us."
"Don't push yourself, Sonic." Shadow warned him. He didn't want the blue hedgehog to go through the same thing he did.
"I'll be fine, now let's go." And before anybody else could say a word, Sonic jumped off to battle.
The battle went on longer than they usually do. This robot was much stronger than Eggman's usual ones. It also seemed to resemble the robot from The Incredibles, with it's round shape and it's eight clawed tentacles. With each minute that went by, Sonic's bladder started getting weaker and weaker. He was becoming desperate, both in wanting to stop this robot before it hurt anyone, and needing to use the toilet.
"Eep!" Sonic squeaked, unconsciously pressing his hands between his legs as he felt a leak come out.
"Sonic, go to the bathroom!" Shadow scolded, seeing his friend's desperation.
"I-I'm fine!" Sonic refused, standing up straight and rushing at the robot again.
"That idiot." The ebony hedgehog hissed. However, Shadow wasn't the only one that saw Sonic's moment of weakness.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!" Eggman laughed, pressing a button on a remote pointed at the robot. "Robot! Grab Sonic!"
"Uh oh." Sonic gasped, his eyes widening as he saw the claws coming towards him.
He tried to dodge out of the way, but they kept coming and each sharp turn made his bladder hurt even worse. More leaks came out, wetting his legs a bit and causing him to go slower. At last, two pairs of claws grabbed him by his legs and pulled him. The pull made the hedgehog fall and hit the back of his head against the concrete, hard. Sonic saw stars in his vision as he heard a sickening crack. He was sure he had a concussion now.
"HA! I got you now, Sonic." Eggman sneered as the robot held Sonic up in the air upside down by his legs. He smirked as he noticed the hedgehog trying oh so desperately to keep his legs together. "What's the matter, hedgehog? Something wrong with your legs?"
"No, of course not!" Sonic hissed back.
"Really? Then I guess you wouldn't mind if I opened them a little?!" The evil man laughed as he pressed another button, making the robot begin to slowly force Sonic's legs open.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Sonic gasped, trying desperately to close his legs again. Keeping them closed was the only thing that was preventing him from wetting himself, and being in this position would make it even worse.
He tried his hardest to pull his legs closed against the claws of the robot, but each pull closed made the robot open them wider each time. Sonic's body was shaking. The leaks coming out of his bladder started getting bigger.
"AAAAAHHH!" He cried out. He couldn't hold it anymore.
A loud hissing sound came from between Sonic's legs. Urine started falling down his body like a golden fountain, completely soaking his upper body. Sonic watched in shame and horror as the droplets fell passed his head, extremely close to his face. His face turned red and tears fell from his eyes. And the whole time he was wetting himself, Eggman was laughing his ass off.
"OH HO! Look at the Hero of Möbius now!" The man sneered. "Wetting himself like a small child! How priceless!"
Sonic's bottom lip quivered as his bladder continued to empty, and completely against his will, he let out a loud sorrowfilled wail.
Suddenly, the robot exploded, sending bits and pieces of metal and steel everywhere. The claws dropped the peeing hedgehog, making him hit his head again. If he didn't have a concussion before, he definitely had one now.
Sonic sniffed and sat up, wiping his tears away as he saw Shadow jump off of the broken robot and onto Eggman's Egg Carrier. He punched the human in the face, breaking his nose and distracting him long enough to reach in and rip a few important wires out. Once he did that, he jumped off of the ship, watching it as Eggman lost control and crashed to the ground.
Eggman growled as he crawled out of the wreckage. He dusted himself off, and then froze when he saw the angry black and red hedgehog in front of him. "Uh... hello, Shadow."
Shadow sneered and grabbed him by his mustache, pulling him close to his face. "Get out of here... now."
Eggman nodded quickly and ran away as soon as Shadow let go of his facial hair, squealing like a little girl as he did so.
Sonic sniffed again and tried to get up, but his head was swimming and his legs felt weak. He fell back to the ground, splashing a little urine around him.
"Sonic!" He looked over and blushed when he saw his friends running up to him, all looking extremely worried. They knelt down beside him, but none were willing to touch his wet body to comfort him. This made Sonic cry some more.
"Oh Sonic." Amy cooed, petting his head, the only thing that wasn't wet. "It's ok. Don't cry. Accidents happen."
"I'm sorry guys." Sonic whimpered. "I should've listened to you all. I'm so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about." Shadow frowned, coming up to them. "It's just an accident. They happen." Seeing the large bump on the back of Sonic's head, and knowing that nobody else was gonna do it, he knelt down and gently picked Sonic up in a bridal style.
"Shadow?" Sonic sniffed, surprised that the ebony hedgehog was willing to carry him, even though he was wet with urine.
"It's ok. I don't mind. It's not like haven't been covered in urine before." Shadow smiled warmly. "Besides, you have a concussion. I don't think you should be walking for a while."
Sonic gave a small smile and shyly nuzzled into his chest, a few more tears running down his cheeks in happiness. Sonic had comforted Shadow when he had his accident. Now Shadow was returning the favor. "Thank you, Shadow."
"It's no problem. Come on everybody. Let's go home."
The End |
Darjeeling was known in "Saint Glorian academy" not only due to her mind and knowledge, but also possessed, as she believed, an unbreakable bladder. She considered this a unique ability. In addition, she often saw her friends retire to the bathroom, and she calmly drinking the seventh cup of tea continues to hold urine for at least all day. She trained this ability with her senpai Earl Gray. And as a result, she learned to resist desire for a very long time.
But long does not always mean. From time to time, even Darjeeling falls into despair. This did not happen so often. Usually this is due to situations when the standard schedule of the girl changed. In those cases, Darjeeling sometimes even leaked. But she always found the strength to keep urine in herself. But at a certain point in Darjeeling's life, a whole series of accidents began. After which she began to enjoy wetting. And perhaps the time has come to tell about the first case in her adult life.
The girl sat at a meeting of all the noble sisters of Gloriana(Best tank crew). Such a meeting takes place every Friday and must be attended by the commander of the school’s tank club. Assam talked about the results of intelligence in other schools and recent battles. This meeting could be ordinary, as always, and after it everyone could disperse into rooms. But this time it was not so. Darjeeling felt the pressure between her legs. And this time it was stronger than the previous ones. While Assam was explaining how they could defeat Oarai again, Dargeeling nodded approvingly, but fought in battle with her bladder. She cursed herself that she had drunk more tea today.
As a result, Darjeeling developed a small plan for her to leave earlier. And even if it leaks, then at least not here. But the hands on the watch went slowly. She gripped her hips tightly and then said
- Okay, I personally think that everything is clear. It's time to diverge.
- No. Need to finish the briefing. - Answered Assam.
After fifteen painful minutes, Darjeeling realized that even she had a limit. And she is steadily approaching it. In less than a minute, the first couple of drops of yellow urine fell into her panties. For a moment, a clear fright appeared in the girl's eyes. Darjeeling began to squeeze her hips as hard as she could, but that was not enough. She cursed all the tea she drank. But she also knew that only herself was to blame for what was happening.
Soon after another ten minutes passed and the girl leaked. The jerk lasted a few seconds. Then the blonde pressed her hands between her legs. By that time, Rosehip began to speak. In many ways, this meant that it was all ending. A pink-haired girl ran near the board and said something. But Darjeeling could not understand what. No matter how she tried to focus on something else, but thoughts about the restroom did not leave the girl's mind. She began to cross her legs and dance slightly with them under table, but this did not help.
Time passed very slowly. Every minute turned into agony and Darjeeling painfully tried to bear it. It became almost impossible to restrain oneself and short streams flowed from the girl. One was powerful enough to push beyond the already not white panties and lightly wet the pillow on the chair. Never before in training or elsewhere was Darjeeling so desperate. But everything was still to come. At some point, her sphincters weakened and she released a stream. Only using all her willpower she could hold this and somehow she succeeded.
- Well, now it’s time to end our meeting. Till tomorrow. - said Assam and left.
For Darjeeling, these words were salvation. Finally, it ended and lo and behold, she still holds on. Soon, all the girls left the room, and Darjeeling said she wanted to study the plans herself. But in fact, it’s clear that she simply hadnt the opportunity to get up without starting to urinate. Well...When everyone left, she made a couple of attempts, but they ended in failure and small releases of fluid. She squeezed wet fingers and used one like a cork. But that did not help. Then the girl decided that she did not have a chance and releasing her hands she let go. Of course, she lifted her skirt and jumped off the chair so as not to wet the chair too.
A cry of relief burst from her and soon the stream, amplifying at full capacity, began to create a huge puddle. And so it ended. Tears flowed down the girl’s eyes. And the droplets continued to flow down the legs. Barely on her feet, the girl nearly collapsed into a puddle of her urine. But Darjeeling quickly figured out what to do. After a few moments everything was cleaned and she went to her room. Locked at her room, the girl went to the bathroom, where she began to masturbate, but in the depths of herself she was still worried. She wondered if she had at least the smallest chance of holding on and what would have happened if the others had seen her urinate.
In fact, the girl did not suspect that this was only the beginning of that streak of failure and that this incident was far from the last. |
Hello everybody, I wanted to share this story from the disabled bound2burst story section. The author is David North.
Warning: It contains bondage
A Policewoman's Lot
W. P. C. Allison Parker began pacing for the dozenth time, her shoes clicking against the concrete as she walked a few yards, turned and walked back. P.C. John Gallagher gave her a reproving glance as she rejoined him. "Keep under cover before somebody sees you," he warned in a harsh whisper.
"I can't help it," Allison snapped. "I'm dying for the loo."
"Look," Gallagher said, "if someone looks out of the back windows of that warehouse and sees you strutting up and down out here, the whole operation will be blown."
"Alright, alright," Allison conceded. "I just hope something happens soon, because I can't wait much longer."
"You should have thought of that when you were in the canteen swigging back tea like it was going out of fashion."
"Oh, thanks for the sympathy."
"Well what do you expect me to do about it?"
Before Allison could respond again, her radio crackled and the voice of Chief Superintendent Maddox said, "Team three. Anything going on?"
"Oh yes sir," Allison said before pressing the transmit button, "I'm breaking my neck for a piss and P.C. Gallagher is about as helpful as a chocolate truncheon." Pressing the button, she announced in as calm a voice as she could muster, "Negative. All quiet."
"Understood," Maddox replied promptly. "Hold your position."
"Yes sir," Allison acknowledged, then after releasing the transmit button again, added, "and by the way, I'm holding a lot more than my position."
"Will you give it a rest," Gallagher complained.
"It's alright for you," Allison said, her tone sharp as she fought a sharp muscular spasm inside her abdomen. "Any time you want to piss, you can just stick your cock through a hole in the wall and let go. It's bloody awkward for a woman."
"Then blame God, or evolution, whatever you believe in. It's not my fault."
On the verge of throwing more verbal vitriol and her companion, Allison paused, then vented a sharp sigh of frustration. A gasp escaped her and she quickly bent her right knee, turning her leg inward so that her thighs were pressed together.
When she had regained a little more control, she said in a quiet yet tight voice, "I'm sorry, Tom. It's just so...frustrating to not be able to let it go."
"Yeah, I know," Gallagher replied, offering her a pacifying smile. "Sorry for being so unsympathetic. Women do have a raw deal."
"Damn right," Allison said as she began hopping from foot to foot. "Oohhh. We've been here for hours. Nothing's going to happen. Why doesn't Maddox just call the operation off?"
"You know what he's like. Stubborn to the bone."
"And sitting in a nice comfy van where it's warm, drinking coffee."
Gallagher grinned, glancing down at Allison's wiggling legs. "So, let me get this straight. Are you saying you want to join him for coffee?"
"Shut up. I don't want to think about drinking anything."
They fell silent, and after a minute Allison began surveying the street again, looking to see if there was anything she had missed. All she needed was some discrete spot to conceal herself so that she could lift her skirt and relieve her aching bladder.
The houses fronting the opposite side of the street offered no gardens with shrubs or trees, or any kind of cover, while the high wall running the entire length of the road on this side, encompassing the city hospital, precluded the possibility of going over here. There weren't even any parked cars nearby. In short, there was absolutely nowhere she could pee.
The only possibility lay on the other side of the chain-link fence demarcating the edge of the industrial estate, and in particular the warehouse they had under surveillance. The problem was, the fence was ten feet high, and if she climbed over it and anyone glancing out of any of the rear windows of the warehouse saw her, the operation would be blown. Moreover, if Maddox caught her off station, her career would be over. This was not the first time she had been caught out with a full bladder during an operation.
The last time, she had been assigned to keep watch inside a pub where drugs were being sold. She and her colleague, Samantha Jones, consumed several drinks during the evening to maintain their cover. Inevitably, they both reached the point where they were dying for a visit to the loo, but only Allison succumbed to nature's imperative call. Of course, the moment she left the bar, the drug deal had to go down and Samantha had been forced to handle the situation on her own. Maddox had been furious, and only Allison's solemn promise that it would never happen again had kept her from being suspended.
And now, here she was again, in the middle of an operation and bursting for a piss. But she dare not succumb to temptation this time, or it would surely spell the end of her career on the police force. She had to wait.
"Did you see that?" Gallagher enquired in a loud whisper.
"See what?" Allison asked. Her attention had not been on the warehouse, but rather on forcing her hands not to keep tugging at her skirt and raising the hem a few inches. She longed more than anything to lift it right up and tear down her tights and knickers and just squat on the pavement, anything to end the agony of holding on to a nearly bursting bladder, but she couldn't; not in the middle of a pavement overlooked by houses, and certainly not in front of Gallagher.
"Something moved in there," her colleague was explaining, and she forced herself to concentrate on his words. "I think someone's coming out."
"Oh great," Allison said sardonically.
"You were complaining because nothing was happening a few minutes ago. Make up your mind, will you?"
"I know, but I'm so desperate to piss."
"Well, you'll definitely have to hold it in now," Gallagher informed her with, she was sure, just a hint of relish.
Gallagher pressed the transmit button on his radio. "Team Three. We have movement back here."
Yes, Allison thought. My legs shaking as I try not to have a slash in my skirt.
"Same here," Maddox responded. "Move in. I repeat, move in."
"Acknowledged," Gallagher said as he started forward towards the gates leading into the compound. He glanced back to see Allison hobbling after him, and urged, "Come on. If they get to that van before we do, they'll get away."
"Alright. I'm coming," she answered, at the same time thinking: And I'm about to go in my knickers. What a time to be bloody dying for a piss!
"Okay," she yelled back and veered right in an effort to intercept her fleeing target.
Allison chased the man along the side of the warehouse and saw him duck into an alleyway formed by two rows of crates stacked three deep. She followed, plunging into shadow as the crates cut off the security lights in the compound. That was why she did not see at first that the alleyway came to a dead end.
She was only a few yards away from the fence when Allison pulled up sharply, suddenly conscious of the motionless silhouette of her quarry who had turned to wait for her. "Okay, you're nabbed. Don't give me any trouble," Allison said in an official voice, trying to keep the desperation out of it as she resisted the urge to dance on the spot. By way of a reply, she heard the click of a gun being cocked. She froze, terrified, a short burst of pee escaping into her knickers.
"If you want to live, shut up," the gravelly voice told her.
Allison raised her hands instinctively, squeezing her thighs together in an effort not to wet herself. "Look, don't make things worse for yourself," she tried to reason with him. "There's no way out of--?"
"I told you to shut up," he interrupted, menacing her with the gun.
"Okay, okay," she agreed, and fell silent, waiting to see what he would do next and praying that Gallagher would come looking for her.
"Get your handcuffs out," the silhouette instructed her.
Allison winced, realizing what he was about to make her do, but she didn't dare argue with him again. She produced her handcuffs from her utility belt and waited.
"Put one of the bracelets around your wrist," the voice resumed. Allison complied. "Now come over here and slide the other one around the fence post."
Taking small, mincing steps, Allison approached the fence, saw that there was a gap between the post and the chain-link fence wide enough to accommodate the empty bracelet, and passed it behind the post as instructed. "Right," he resumed, "put the bracelet round your other wrist and close it. Tight."
"Please. I--?"
"Do it!" the man barked out impatiently, raising the gun so that the muzzle was level with Allison's face.
"Alright," she complied quickly, anxious not to antagonise the man further. She snapped the second bracelet shut on her own wrist and waited.
The man approached, closing the ratchet on each bracelet several more notches so that they fitted Allison's wrists snugly. He then put his gun away and, standing just a foot away from her, asked, "Where's the key?"
"The key?" Allison echoed, alarmed at the prospect of being stuck in her own handcuffs when her bladder was so close to exploding. "It's not necessary to take the key," she pleaded. "I can't reach it."
"I asked you where it was," the man snapped, gripping her cheeks between thumb and fingers, pinching them with brutal force. "If you try stalling again, I'll put a hole in your pretty head."
"Okay," Allison supplied readily. "It's on the belt, in the pocket next to the one where I had the handcuffs."
He flipped open the flap on the pouch in question, dipped several fingers inside and retrieved the key, slipping it into his jacket pocket. He then proceeded to scale the fence, deftly swinging himself over the top and landing gracefully on the other side. He paused just look enough to look at Allison through the fence and say, "Have a great evening, darlin'," he taunted. Then he was gone.
As soon as he was out of sight, Allison began dancing frantically, hopping from foot to foot and tapping her boot heels on the concrete. God, she absolutely dying for the loo, and now she couldn't even reach down to lift up her skirt, still less pull down her underwear.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she chanted over and over as she struggled to delay the inevitable. Voices shouted in the distance, none of them close enough for her to summon help. With a bit of a stretch, she found she could reach her radio. She was about to press the transmit button when she stopped, wondering what she was going to say. Officer needs assistance. Come and get me out of my own handcuffs because I'm about to piss my pants? Even the thought of it made her blush. No, she simply couldn't call for help. She would just have to wait and hope that Gallagher came looking for her. It would be embarrassing enough dealing with him, but at least he did already know that she was dying for a piss.
Allison tried sliding the chain of the handcuffs down the post, but it caught on a bracket anchoring it to the chain-link fence, with the result that she could not lower her hands below waist level. There was no way she could do anything about her clothes. If Gallagher didn't come looking for her soon, she would be forced to wet herself, and if anyone else found her first, she would never live it down.
After several minutes of dancing and waiting to be rescued, Allison began tugging at the handcuffs, desperately trying to slip the bracelets over her wrist bones. They were too tightly closed; she didn't have a hope in hell of getting out of this situation on her own.
Allison vented a long sigh of frustration. Her knickers were already wet where she had lost control for a moment, and the expelled urine had gradually seeped through to the crotch of her tights. Aware that she couldn't hope to cork up her pee much longer, Allison started to bend her knees alternately, raising them to the level of her waist. It seemed to help her in her struggle to resist the almost overwhelming urge to release. Letting out a long, agonised moan, she wondered where the hell Gallagher had got to? If he didn't show up in the next few minutes...?
Then, suddenly, he was there. "Allison?" he queried as he approached her position at a trot. "I've been wondering where you were. What are you doing down here?"
"The bastard had a gun," she said between strained gasps. "He made me handcuff myself to the fence."
"Oh shit. Where's the key?"
"He took it."
"What?"
"Try yours."
"It won't work. They're all different."
Allison sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth, crossing her legs and doubling over so far that her cuffed hands were above the level of her head. "Just try it," she pleaded, aware that her voice was starting to tremble.
Gallagher produced his key and tried to insert it into one of the locks on Allison's bracelets. "No good," he announced after a few seconds.
"Oh God, John," she whined, her voice taut, "I'm really frantic for the loo. I can't wait any longer. You've got to help me."
"How can I? They key doesn't fit."
"No, I mean help me," Allison gasped. "Pull my skirt up and take my tights and knickers down."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm bloody serious. It's either that or stand here and piss myself, then half the bloody constabulary will know about it by tomorrow."
"Look, I wouldn't tell--?"
"Just get on with it! I'm about to burst a blood vessel!"
"Okay, okay," Gallagher said, then stepped close to her, bent his knees and siezed the hem of her skirt. He hesitated for a second, and Allison began scissoring her knees.
"Hurry up!" she yelped, sounding on the point of tears.
Gallagher lifted her skirt until the hem was level with her hips, and was just inserting his fingers inside the tops of her tights and knickers when the beam of a torch probed the alley from the far end. Both he and Allison looked towards the light, Gallagher simultaneously letting go of her skirt so that the hem dropped back to her knees.
"Who's down there?" a voice demanded. It was Maddox.
"Oh shit!" Allison swore savagely. "You've got to intercept him. I don't want him to find me like this."
"I'll try," Gallagher agreed, "but you know what he's like."
Gallagher set off along the alley to meet the approaching chief Superintendent. Allison closed her eyes, praying that Maddox would just go away, and groaned inwardly when she heard him ask, "Who's that with you?"
The beam of the torch played over her as Maddox continued to advance.
"I've been trying to rescue W.P.C. Parker," Gallagher was trying to explain.
"Rescue her?" Maddox said, his tone caustic. "What the devil are you talking about, man?"
As he closed in on Allison's position, he framed her squarely in the torch beam. He stopped a few yards short of where she stood trying not to let her desperation to pee make her squirm. She was screaming inside: I'm on the verge of wetting myself, and the stupid old bastard wants to play twenty questions.
"Oh, I might have known," Maddox remarked. "Care to explain this, Parker?"
"I was pursuing one of the suspects when he pulled a gun on me, sir," Allison explained, unable to keep still any longer. She began tapping her heels, beating out a rapid tattoo that made it sound as if she were running. "He made me handcuff myself to the fence."
"What are you gyrating about for, woman?" he demanded, training the beam on her fidgeting legs.
"I need to go to the loo, sir," Allison explained.
"Oh, it could only happen to you," he said with a drawn out sign, then turned to Gallagher. "Well, what are you waiting for? Unlock her handcuffs before she disgraces herself, and the uniform she's wearing. The last thing I want is for the press to photograph a policewoman who has just peed herself." Maddox said to Gallagher.
"I can't, sir. The suspect took her key."
"Marvellous,' Maddox said, his tone now weary and resigned. "Alright, I'll get one of our locksmiths down here to get you out."
"I can't wait that long, sir," Allison said, doing her best not to sound as frantic as she felt. Her bladder was contracting violently now, and it was all she could do to keep her outer sphincter closed.
"Marvellous," Maddox repeated, then added scornfully, "W.P.C. Parker gets caught short on the job again. How do you do it?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Allison whimpered, going out of her mind with the strain of holding back the flood.
"Sorry isn't good enough, Parker. It's about time you learned to control your bodily functions, at least while you're on duty and representing my police force."
"I can't help it, sir," Allison objected, anxious to defend herself.
"Exactly my point."
Unsure how to respond to this charge, Allison turned all her attention to fighting her traitorous bladder which now threatened imminent release.
Maddox turned to Gallagher again. "Go and see if you can find some bolt cutters inside that warehouse."
"Yes, sir," Gallagher nodded and started back down the alleyway.
"Please hurry," Allison called after him, and heard his steps accelerate to a run.
To her consternation, Maddox stayed, talking into his radio and directing the final stages of the round-up. After he had finished, he turned back to Allison and said, "All in all, a successful operation. No thanks to you, Parker."
"I'm sorry," Allison whimpered, vigorously rubbing her thighs together as if she were trying to set her tights on fire.
"I think you need a lesson in how to handle yourself in situations like this," Maddox droned on as Allison continued gyrating and wishing he would go away.
"Sir?" she queried, her voice breaking on the single syllable.
"Come to my office tomorrow afternoon at five," Maddox instructed. "We'll have a few hours before your shift starts, and we'll see if we can't get you up to par with your bladder control."
"I don't understand," Allison squeaked, her face pinched with strain.
"We'll discuss the details tomorrow," Maddox said evasively.
"But what--?"
"Tomorrow," Maddox repeated.
What was the old bastard planning? It sounded dangerously like sexual harrassment to her. If it was, she would report him; she had put up with enough of his attitude
To her mounting consternation, Maddox did not leave. She wanted to scream at him to bugger off so that she could wet herself in private, but didn't dare articulate these sentiments. She did her best to look as if she was in control of herself, but when another spurt of pee escaped into her knickers, she couldn't suppress a gasp which drew Maddox's attention. "What is it?" he demanded with all the sensitivity of a Nazi inquisitor.
"Nothing,' Allison retorted, not caring that she sounded annoyed. She was absolutely breaking her neck for a piss and this old fart was loitering around. Was he waiting for her to lose control?
To her utter mortification, Maddox directed his torch on her writhing legs. Finally snapping under the appalling strain, Allison snapped, "Turn that off!"
"I beg your pardon, constable," Maddox responded coldly.
"Please, sir," she begged. "I...I'm wetting myself, and I don't want you to see."
Even while she was speaking, another, more protracted spurt escaped her urethra, and this time she felt warm pee streaming down her legs. She rubbed her thighs together but there was no halting its progress this time. It reached the top of her boots and spilled over them, running down the leather and dripping onto the concrete. Maddox was watching this, the light directed on her area around her feet. "Sir, please," Allison pleaded, but the old man seemed not to have heard. She was about to plead with him again when she felt another jet of pee burst out and soak her knickers. It raced down her legs like a river, this time working its way inside the tops of her boots and wriggling down to her stockinged feet.
Forced to accept defeat, Allison closed her eyes and let it go, groaning in relief as the tightness around her abdomenal regions began to ease. She hoped the heavy-duty cotton of her police-issue skirt might muffle the sound of her wetting herself a little, but it seemed incredibly loud to her ears. She stood there listening to the sound for perhaps half a minute before the force finally began to subside.
Throughout her entire accident, Maddox had kept the light trained on her legs and the front of her skirt, now displaying a huge wet patch. He only directed the beam away when he heard Gallagher returning. "I found some," Gallagher announced, brandishing the bold-cutters as he reached them. Allison heard him sniff the air. "Oh," he said, "Looks like I'm too late."
"I'm afraid so, constable,' Maddox agreed, then to Allison the chief superintendent added, "Don't forget, Parker. My office, five p.m. tomorrow."
"Yes sir," Allison replied, muttering obscenities under her breath as her boss walked away with an unmistakable bounce in his step.
"What's going on?" Gallagher asked as he applied to bolt-cutters to the chain securing Allison to the fence.
"That old pervert watched me piss myself," she explained, the words forced out between clenched teeth.
"Yeah? Jesus. You going to report him?"
"Who to? Would anyone take my word over his?"
Gallagher considered this for a moment. "Maybe not," he concurred. "So what's he want with you tomorrow? Some kind of reprimand for this?"
The chain snapped and Allison gratefully lowered her hands, one going straight to her abdomen to massage her still-aching muscles. "I'm not sure," she said at length, wondering just what Maddox did want with her.
"Well, whatever you decide to do, I'll back you up,' Gallagher said. "It wasn't your fault."
"Really?"
"Sure."
"Thanks John. I appreciate that." Allison paused to watch the torch light marking the Chief Superintendent's progress, adding when he had finally passed from view, "I need to get home and shower, and change into some dry clothes."
"Your shift doesn't end for another two hours," Gallagher pointed out.
"Get the car and bring it here," Allison insisted. "I'm not walking the streets like this. And hurry up; my legs are getting cold standing around out here."
"If you wane me to warm them up for you..." Gallagher began playfully.
"Go," Allison instructed, pointing at the way out.
"Ten minutes ago, you were asking me to pull your skirt up," Gallagher persisted with the banter. "Now all I get is go?"
"Go," Allison repeated firmly, but she couldn't suppress a smile as Gallagher led the way back down the alley. |
1.1
Theresa Inderwall sat in the driver seat of her rented minivan, awaiting her target to arrive at work. She had spent the last 3 days in the same exact seat. Waiting. Watching. Learning her target’s patterns, habits. Today was finally the day.
This was only the second time she’d ever been chosen to select a young woman for this year’s admittance to Witicker’s Home for Troubled Youth, and was determined to do the best she could.
Each year, the Board of Trustees for The Home joined at a round table and randomly chose who would select their latest admittance. They only accepted 2 young women per year, and the selection process was quite rigorous.
Every Board member had to have 2 distinct pieces of their history to even be accepted onto the Board - she had to be a graduate of the Home, and had to have either special forces, or CIA experience.
Theresa had been accepted into The Home a day after her 18th birthday after spending years being rented out by her father. What made her a good candidate though was that she kept a meticulous list of each of the men who spent time with her, researched every single one of them to determine how to systematically bring them to their knees begging for forgiveness. Some were as simple as money management or blackmail to tell a wife or girlfriend or both. Some needed some “creative” solutions, but she had her list. And The Home’s online filters caught it all. This, her acceptance as a young woman.
The Home helped her to channel her anger, become laser focused, eased her traumas and nightmares, and ultimately helped her get into college so she could work her way into the CIA data management.
On this day though, she was determined to help another young woman start her path towards a better life. Her mark’s name was Samantha Delinique. Samantha had spent the last several years being “encouraged” to work at a rather disgusting establishment. Her job was uncomfortably icky. And most importantly, today, through their internet filters, Theresa had learned that Samantha planned to burn down the entire building during rush hour. Samantha was the perfect candidate - rough history but with motivation, commitment, and follow through.
Theresa caught herself finishing her second bottle of water this morning, even though it was only 10 AM. She was nervous. There was always some level of risk in the selection process. As she tossed the bottle in back, she cursed herself and that habit. She knew she’d regret it later.
Her self regret did t last long though as she caught Samantha walking past her car towards her place of employment. Theresa thought she almost saw a skip in Samantha’s step. Today was definitely the right day.
Through a series of events Theresa preferred not to relive in memory, she managed to not only encourage Samantha to come with her to The Home, but also managed to shut the entire institute down, and had the owner arrested. Overall a very successful operation. Theresa was proud.
Samantha, on the other hand was nervous. Her excitement quickly wore off and she realized she now found herself sitting next to a stranger that told a wonderful tale, but who knew if any of it was true. They’d now been driving a few hours, and the adrenaline had long ago worn off. As whenever she felt nervous, she had to pee. She knew she didn’t actually have to go that bad, but her nerves caused her to feel like she was desperate.
Having had a rough few years, Samantha was not timid, soft spoken, or even usually politically correct. She said what was on her mind as it crossed her mind. Right now, that was her anxious bladder.
”Hey, we gotta find somewhere to pull off. I gotta take leak,” She said to Theresa.
Theres shook her head. They had a lot of work to do with Samantha. “A lady does not ‘take a leak’ Samantha,” She started. “A civil woman ‘excuses herself to the washroom’”.
”Either way, we gotta make that happen soon, I’m bustin’” Samantha answered.
”Samantha, while at The House, you will learn an incredible amount of self control, etiquette, mannerisms, and politeness. I would like to to start some of those lessons now,” Theresa said. “To be completely open and honest, my bladder has made itself known to me for the past hour. However, I am practicing self control. I am also exhibiting politeness by not burdening you with my concerns, mannerisms by choosing carefully how I speak of these matters, and etiquette by not stopping at a rest area simply to relieve myself without intentions of contributing to their business.”
Samantha sat for a moment before replying, “So you have to pee too, but you’re not because you’re too polite? Thats dumb. Pissin’s natural. And it’ll eventually happen regardless of if you want it to or not, so might as well just go ahead and let loose.”
“I will allow myself to step away and attend to this matter at an appropriate time. Until then, I will continue to practice self control. If you are unable to at this moment, we can find an appropriate place to pull off so as not to bother any travelers or businesses.”
”You want me to pop a squat?” Samantha asked, surprised.
Theresa sighed. They’d have a lot of work to do with Samantha’s choice in phrasing. “Sort of. I’m saying we will pull off the side of the road somewhere concealed so you may return your water to nature.”
“Pop a squat on the side of the road. Cool. What do you have in here to wipe with?” Samantha asked.
“Miss Joana Witicker firmly believed in waste not, want not. Accordingly, we at The House do not waste paper in the form of toilet tissue,” Theresa said.
“... What do you use then?” Samantha asked, concerned about the answer.
Theresa thought carefully about her answer. “Many things at The House are managed differently than how you may be used to doing them. For now, in this particular case, I’d suggest a leaf or scrap of paper. When we arrive, many of our policies will be disclosed to you. Some you will be happy with I’m sure. Some will take getting used to. Be assured though, everything is done intentionally and with careful thought and consideration.”
”Until we arrive,” Theresa continued, pulling off the road into a small, fairly secluded field. “This will have to do.”
Glad to be moments away from relief, Samantha quickly opened her door and took a few steps away from the car before pausing and turning around, “Coming? Or do you want to do this one at a time?”
”Neither,” Theresa answered softly. “As I mentioned earlier, despite being aware of my bladder and a growing quantity or urine inside of it, I will continue to practice self control.”
Samantha shrugged and pulled down her pants before squatting down, still facing Theresa and the road. Theresa sighed. Much work to do. |
1.2
Samantha stood in front of the minivan, awestruck at the mansion towering before her. It was not at all what she had pictured when Theresa called it The House. Part medieval castle, part celebrity vacation home, she now understood that was just the name.
”This...?” She asked, at a loss for words for the first time since this journey began.
”This is The House,” The Theresa answered, ushering Samantha inside. “And we’re a little late. There are many reasons self control is essential. Remember that moving foreword.”
”We’re late because I had to pee?” Samantha questioned.
”No,” Theresa said. “We’re late because you urinated. I too felt that temptation throughout the entire ride and still ongoing, but that was my burden to bare. You gave in to it. That is why we are late.”
”Peeing is not a temptation,” Samantha retorted, though under her breath.
”WELCOME TO THE WITICKER’S HOME FOR TROUBLED YOUTH!” A blaring voice announced, echoing throughout the Great Room the pair just entered. Two spiral staircases led to other floors on each side of the room. Three women stood in the middle - one a little older, one in maybe her 30’s, and one about Samantha’s age.
”You must be Samantha?” The older woman said, coming foreword to shake her hand. “My name Dorothy Lasage and I’m the Headmistress here at The Home, but please, call me Dot.”
”Behind me is Eliza McGovern and her Selectee Rachael Adminski,” Dot continued. “Rachael will be the other young woman in your cohort.”
Samantha and Theresa took a place standing next to Rachael and Eliza, all facing Dot as the Headmistress began a well versed introduction before delving into some of the policies.
”Here at The Home, you will learn invaluable skills and trades. Most of our graduates go on to special forces or intelligence. We expect the same you. Accordingly, your day to day life while here is heavily structured,” Dot said.
”You will have morning physical training from 06:30 until 08:00, class from 08:15 until noon. Lunch from noon until 13:00. 13:15 until 16:00 will contain practical or skill based learning. Afternoon physical training from from 16:15 until 17:30. Dinner from 17:45 until 18:30. An hour of self study and reflection until 19:30. And lights out at 20:00.” Dot listed off the grueling schedule.
”It is expected you will shower after both morning and afternoon physical training. Which takes me to bodily matters,” Dot continued. “There are several bathrooms throughout The House. They unlock automatically at 06:00 upon waking and again at 19:30 before bed. It is strongly recommended you take full advantage of both these times. There was a Selectee several years ago who liked to sleep in and missed her morning bathroom time. She had some very difficult days.
”Wait,” Samantha said out of turn. “So what happens if you have to pee during the day?” She asked, thinking of Theresa who still had yet to go.
Dot looked back to Theresa who stepped foreword to answer. “As you already know Samantha, and to inform you Rachael, I myself currently have a bladder that has been announcing its presence to me for several hours now. It has started to bulge out and dig into my belt. I am also acutely aware of the pressure pushing on my urethra. However, one of the core competencies of The House is self control. That includes bodily functions such as urination. Therefore, I will continue to maintain my composure and control until 19:30 tonight when my restroom is unlocked and I may appropriately relieve myself.”
Rachael raises her hand before softly asking, “What about that time of month? Do the bathrooms unlock more often?”
This time, Dot looked to Eliza. “The short answer is no, the washrooms lock and unlock automatically at the same times every day, regardless. Now, we are all women here. We understand that the cycle is normal and natural. Over the years, we have trialed almost every solution one can think of. Ultimately, we’ve found the most success with these,” Eliza said, stepping foreword and pulling the front of her pants open to reveal she was wearing what looking like a thin diaper around her waist that progressed into a noticeably thick pad near her groin.
”Forgive me for my appearance, as is currently the same with Theresa, my bladder is unusually full today. But we’ve found that this particular cycle pad offers the least effect on daily activities, while managing to cleanly and effectively contain even the heaviest of flows.”
”Can’t you just pee in it?” Samantha asked.
Eliza smiles softly. “Unfortunately no, as these are not disposable. Our laundry staff does an amazing job. However, they have been strictly instructed to alert senior staff should that occur. The goal here, is to learn and practice self control. As such, my urine will remain in my bladder at this time. As I’m sure Theresa told you, Miss Witicker strongly believed in minimizing waste. The urine breaks down the integrity of the pad and shortly renders them useless.”
”She did tell me that,” Samantha said. “Also told me you don’t use toilet paper here?”
”That is correct,” Dot answered this time. “Toilet tissue is extremely wasteful and ultimately harmful to the environment.”
After a long pause where Samantha expected Dot to continue, she asked, “So what do you use then?”
Dot looked softly at Samantha for a moment before asking, “ Samantha, may I ask what the status of your pubic hair is?”
”My uh... what now?” Samantha stumbled out, completely thrown off.
”Your pubic hair,” Dot continued without missing a beat. “As you can see,” she started while pulling her pants and white cotton panties to her knees, “I, as well as my fellow Board Members are completely shaven clean. Not a single hair to be found. This allows for fast and effective use of our bidet, followed by complete drying by air. The so called ‘drip dry’ technique.”
From Samantha’s side, Rachael finally spoke up. “I’m sorry, but all this talk about going to the bathroom and I was totally unprepared for this and Eliza wouldn’t stop on the way here and I just... I really have to go to the bathroom. Like right now,” she said, bending over at the waist and plunging a hand into her crotch.
While Samantha was feeling some need to go again, she was incredibly thankful Theresa stopped for her. |
1.3
“Rachael,” Dot started. “I understand you were caught off guard today, couldn’t be prepared. Little time to adapt. I know you’re in an unfortunate predicament.”
”However, you have been made aware of our standards. It would be my understanding there isn’t an empty bladder in this room right now. Accordingly, I simply cannot allow any exceptions. It is about 4 PM right now. That means it’s about 3 and a half hours until the bathrooms will unlock. I know you feel quite full, but do you believe it’s possible to maintain your composure until that time?”
”I... I don’t think so,” Rachael said weakly. “But I’ll try.”
“As is the expectation,” Dot agreed.
”Now,” She said with a renewed energy. “While your belongings are brought up to your rooms, let’s take a quick tour of the grounds and facilities. Naturally, you’ll be expected to arrive to morning PT tomorrow on time. It would help if you knew where exactly you were going.
Rachael straighted up a little and managed to pull her hand away from the grip her thighs had on it, but Samantha had her doubts. She felt bad for the poor girl. She would have been in a very similar situation had Theresa not allowed her one last rule break all over the side of the road. She had to remind herself to be nicer to Theresa in the future.
The grounds were massive, to say the least. “5,000 acres,” Dot answered as if someone had asked. “Basically, everything you can see in every direction is ours. But don’t let that fool you into a sense of ease. There’s a reason we have so much land. Privacy is important.”
“Coming out the front door here, you’ll see our impressive hedgerow garden, with various fields and courts off to the right. To the left is our Stretching Acres Forest. I cannot stress enough that you are not allowed out there without supervision.”
As Dot continued listing off amenities and rules, Samantha caught sight of Rachael, still noticeably bent over at the waist. She was staring absently at the Forest, surely imagining popping a squat on a tree. Poor girl just looked like she wasn’t going to be able to make it.
”I can’t hold it,” she whispered to Samantha who quickly whispered back, “Yes you can. You have to. Look at Theresa, she’s holding it. So is Eliza. I bet they both aren’t sure they can wait, but they are.”
”Even I’m holding it right now,” Samantha continued to admit. “Obviously not as much as you, but I’d definitely use the bathroom right now if I could. You e got this. We’ve all got this. I believe in you,” she encouraged to a weak smile.
Dot pushed on through a lengthy tour, showing off a painfully grueling looking obstacle course, a full faux street paintball arena complete with several small houses, and a formal reception area.
As the sun began to kiss the tips of the trees, the group finally made their way to the Olympic sized swimming pool.
Rachael tried so hard. She really did. She tightly crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together. She plunged her hand deep into her crotch to grab and squeeze. She bent over deeply at the waist. And most importantly, she desperately tried to tone out Dot talking about water jets and splashing.
At long last, as Dot started explaining the rules about showering first, Rachael lost her battle. Not all at once. She felt the first few drops just in her underwear. The next spurt wet her hand. And then she let go. And go. And go. Her bladder contracted and squeezed and she could feel a torrent running down her legs.
It took some time for anyone to notice. Samantha, being the closest, was also the first to hear the drops hitting the tile, to see the streams running down various parts of her legs.
Next to notice was Dot, who likely only realized what was happening based off the look on Samantha’s face. She stopped mid sentence, remaining silent for a moment before exclaiming, “Rachael...!”
”I.... I’m... I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t...” The girl stuttered before being cut off by Dot.
”Off with your pants!”
”My... what?”
”Take off your pants,” Dot said again. “Now.”
”I... I’m still going,” Rachael attempted to explain before Dot more sternly said “Take your pants off right now.”
Samantha watched as a stream of pee flowing by Rachael’s knee suddenly stopped as the girl started removing her pants. With from the movement or the embarrassment, Rachael was no longer relieving herself.
She gently placed her dripping wet jeans next to her, beside her impressive puddle, standing with just her pink panties that were wet about halfway up the front.
”Underwear too,” Dot demanded next.
Rachael attempted to counter, “But,” however, couldn’t get another word out before Dot commanded, “Off.”
Rachael gulped and dropped her underwear to the ground, stepping out of them. She revealed her V which was covered in an impressively large amount of thick hair.
Dot clicked her tongue. “I’m sorry Rachael, but our expectations were laid out to you clearly. You have greatly disrespected our laundry staff, Therefore, you’ve lost your privilege to wear the articles of clothing you’ve so thoughtlessly soiled. At least for the rest of today. You will be allowed to wear them again tomorrow. Do you anything to say?”
”I’m so sorry. I tried so hard to hold it and couldn’t. But I... I still actually really need to go.”
”That May be the case,” Dot said. “But the bathroom schedule will remain unaffected. At least you no longer run the risk of soiling you’re clothing.”
”What about you, Samantha?” Dot asked.
”I... I certainly need to go, but I’m...” She looked at Theresa for a moment. “I’m practicing self control.”
”Excellent!” Dot commended. “Now, moving on...”
As the women began walking to their next tour destination, Samantha caught Theresa bend slightly at the knees while passing Rachael’s puddle. Poor Eliza and Theresa. Surely they both had to pee desperately at this point. But there wasn’t a chance they’d be able to. They couldn’t even afford the same fate as Rachael. Dot seemed like she’d be able to tell if either of them lost even a drop into their underwear. Not worth it. |
This is a story about a girl named Erwin from Girls und panzer. I was asked to write about her. I hope it works out well.
Erwin girl in Oaray from the club of historians. She specialized in the history of the Second World War and, first of all, Germany in the 20th century.
Now she was sitting on the hull of her tank with the rest of the team. Oryo, Caesar, and Saemondsa discussed about history and played in historical games. This game could be played for about 3 hours, but they played out the scenario of the battle of El Alamein. Winning was extremely difficult, but Erwin tried more than once and now it seems a miracle she succeeds. During the game, the girl drank a glass of soda and jammed a fast food hamburger. Of course, her friends also ate delicious food. For example, Oryo choose a bucket of chicken and clearly was not going to give it so easily to her friends. Yes, I joked. She was ready to share. Of course she also drank Coca-Cola.
- I'm sorry I'm filled to the my limit.- Said Oryo, because her bladder was full. The girl retired to the toilet, but Erwin did not follow her example.
- Erwin, you drank so much soda. I’m sure you want to use the toilet.- Saemonds said, but Erwin only waved her hand.
- I do not want to use the toilet.- answered Erwin
- But you may want to when we go to the shooting training.- Caesar said, clearly wanting Erwin to follow Oreux’s example.
- I have an impenetrable bladder.- Erwin answered
The girls threw away food and put the game into a box. Now they were getting ready for training. Of course, Erwin could not predict what would happen next. The girl took the place of the commander and prepared for training. And soon, Stug 3 drove towards the training field. But Stug 3 is a tank. And in a tank, as you know, it can shake quite a lot. This will affect the situation in the future. Time passed and soon the self-propelled gun moved to the first position. From this position, a target was visible at a distance of about a kilometer.
Time passed to take aim and Oryo began to aim the gun. In the meantime, Erwin began to have her first problems, or rather, her bubble gave the first signals.
- Commander, our gun is aimed at the target. Should we open fire? - said Oryo
- Yes, we should!- answered Erwin.
The sound of a shot shook the air and the tank slightly shake up. It was a shot of a german pack40 . Little could stand before the power of this weapon. That was incredible. The target was demolished by this training projectile. Soon the tank fired several more shots and changed three positions. All this happened in half an hour.
It was after this that all the soda drunk by Erwin hit her with all her might. Her bladder was almost full to the brim and she rubbed her hips. Erwin was approaching her limit. But the bladder did not cause much concern. Now he was not even completely full, and the girl had a lot of strength to deal with him. Yes, Erwin rubbed her hips and squeezed them tightly, but the reason for this was because she was now wearing very expensive panties. She did not want her to leak into them.
- Commander, we took a position. What will be the orders?- Asked Caesar.
- Try... Try to aim and make an accurate shot.
Erwin tried not to show what she needed to the toilet. But it was extremely difficult. Hide with every minute became more difficult. Pressure on the sphincter grew. And the girl began to sort out her legs. And soon Saymondsa noticed this.
- The commander you see what I mean. I was right. You had to go to the toilet. - Said Saymondsa.
- I can endure as much as I want.- Answered commander Stug 3.
The crew hardly spoke anymore, since Erwin concentrated more on holding and Caesar took command. After half an hour, the situation began to get out of the girl's control. The first few drops of heat fell into her white panties. Erwin then put her right hand between her legs and tried to prevent a leak or something more.
The problems began some time later when a short spurt first hit the panties. The girl squeezed her crotch with both hands. And her full bladder began to throb. Erwin fell into despair. She tried to keep her urine from going out. After another jerk, Erwin began press her hips for all her strength. Soon, the girl began to painfully squeeze her hips, and tears appeared in her eyes. Soon a few short streams came out of the girl. But control was leaving her. There was already a small puddle on the seat.
But then something began. At first, one jerk came out of the girl. Then another. And then it became audible blows of drops on metal. And then a minute later the girl could not stand it. A huge stream of urine burst from her. Erwin was soon wet. She sighed heavily when it finally became easier. The flow did not subside for a long time and now, after a couple of minutes, the liquid stopped. Erwin continued to breathe heavily. She could not believe that this had happened to her. With an adult girl.
Although it is worth noting that she was warned that she should not drink so much and that she should take care of the bathroom before training. It is even surprising that she, as a child, acted so presumptuously.
And so I wrote the story of Erwin. I lack an artistic description. This is clearly worth working on.
And so I'm waiting for another proposals about Girls und Panzer.
Who else would you like to see? |
Hey guys, got a little bored so decided to write a short story. Hope you guys find it enjoyable.
He walked through the door and I noticed he was flustered. He was murmuring to himself; I couldn’t hear what he was saying but I could tell he was frustrated. I paid it little mind, I was busy cooking our dinner, besides, I just figured he’d had a bad day at work which was a pretty common occurrence. I stirred the pasta and listened to him removing his shoes and placing his keys on the hook. I called out a greeting which went unheard. I’m not having that, I thought to myself. Its one thing being in a mood, but another thing altogether blanking your girlfriend.
“Did you not hear, I said hello?” I called out sarcastically.
Again, he didn’t respond.
I turned the heat down on the pasta and walked into the hallway. He had gone upstairs, in quite a hurry by the sounds of it. I felt it was pointless calling out again if he was just going to ignore me, so I followed him upstairs. I checked our bedroom and there was no sign, I checked my office space, no sign. I called out again, this time asking where he had gotten to, he simply called back with “bathroom”. Here we go, I thought to myself, gunna be one of those nights.
“I haven’t seen you all day, it would be nice to even just say hello when you get back in from work” I was feeling a little agitated, this kind of attitude really grinds my gears.
“I’ll be out in a second” he called from behind the door. It sounded like he was getting changed to me. Why get changed in the bathroom though?
“baby, what’s going on? I know something has happened, this isn’t just another bad day at the office, please, just come out and talk to me” I guessed it was pointless but I can be stubborn and I really don’t like it when he ignores me.
“Just give me a minute, please. I’m not trying to be obtuse, it’s just I don’t want you getting the wrong end of the stick”
Okay, this is beginning to worry me now, I thought to myself. Has he been with another woman? Is that why he’s looked himself away? To give himself an opportunity to get rid of her scent. If that is the case, he may as well stay in there, because there is no way in hell, he’s coming anywhere near me.
“You’re worrying me now, please just come out” i probably sounded a lot less angry than I was deep inside. I find it is often best to stay calm on the outside, that can save a lot of trouble and strife.
“look, I’m sorry, it’s just…” I heard his voice breaking slightly and he took a big deep breath before finishing his sentence.
“just what? I’m your girlfriend please don’t keep me in the dark. Whatever it is I want to help”
“look, truth is….. ahh. Look the truth is I’ve pissed myself. Okay”
Did I hear right? Did he just say he’s pissed himself? Surely not?
“babe I’m sorry I didn’t hear what you said” my voice pleaded ignorance, I was ninety percent sure of what he said, I just wanted confirmation.
“I’ve pissed myself” okay, that time I heard him.
Oh boy. How do I play this? Calm and soothing? Say nothing and let him simmer down and then talk about it? Is he too embarrassed to talk about it? Maybe that’s it. Maybe he’s too embarrassed, he has no reason to be, as much as anything else, it happens, he is only human. Or do I tell him the truth: which is when I heard those three words, my knickers became wet with excitement?
“Okay babe come out he bathroom, please. I wanna be with you right now, not stuck at the other side of a door”
There was a pause. He didn’t say anything, and I wondered if he ever would say anything, I guess this kind of thing is harder for some people to deal with than others. But at the very least, I wanted to be with him in this moment, not for my benefit, but for his. The truth is I have fantasised about this for a long time, he knows nothing about it, I’ve kept it very private. As much as I love this sorta thing, our sex life has been fine without it, I haven’t seen the need to rock the boat and potentially make things awkward between us. However, in this moment, I had regretted not saying anything. Not for my own gratification, but because I believed that having this knowledge in this moment of time would have made it easier for him. If he knew how I felt, then maybe he would not have run upstairs to hide, and he would have just passed it off and forgotten about it. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, I guess.
Eventually the door opened, and he stepped out. His dark blue jeans were soaked from crotch to ankle. His junk was bulging slightly against his fly, not surprising given he is well hung. I looked him up and down and it just made me super horny. I asked him to turn around, I made it sound like I was doing an inspection rather than just enjoying the view. Oh boy, hiss ass was soaked too. Guess he lost control in the car then? He turned back to face me. He didn’t seem embarrassed, which made his behaviour seem even more unusual.
I moved close to him and hugged him tight. He really did smell of pee, but that was fine, I liked that, it just turned me on even more. After a few moments I stepped back and looked him up and down again, this isn’t a view I’ll forget easily, I thought to myself. I looked him in the eye and told him it was alright; he didn’t say anything. So, I asked him what happened.
“I left work, I had been drinking a lot of coffee, I got stuck in traffic and it was just too much for me, I lost it a few miles away”
Don’t get me wrong, I felt bad for him, I truly did, but this was my fantasy coming true and I was struggling to contain my own emotions. I could feel my pussy throbbing, I just wanted him inside me so bad in that moment.
Screw it, I thought, I’m going for broke.
I moseyed up to him and grabbed his manhood. He looked at me with surprise written all over his face, but he didn’t back away. I kissed him on the cheek and looking straight into his eyes I began rubbing his penis up and down. He was getting hard; girlfriend powers win again.
I zipped his fly down. He was wearing briefs, so his junk didn’t flop out, everything just stayed in a cute mound. His underwear was cold and sodden, they were red once over, now they were more a grey like colour, he must have really needed to go. I knelt and began kissing his junk, still inside his wet underwear. He was beginning to breath heavily; he was enjoying this. He moved his hands to pull his underwear down, but I gently pushed them away, I wanted him just like this. I grabbed his wet ass with my hands and began squeezing and rubbing.
“I really should get these off” he muttered, I guess he was trying to speak normally but he was breathing hard, so I guess muttering was about all he could manage.
“You should, you’ve been a naughty boy and you need punishing” I was full on using my sex voice now.
I kind of expected some objection to my last remark, but he said nothing and removed his briefs.
His junk came out to play and stood to attention for me. I licked his manhood up and down and began sizing him up to go in my mouth. He was starting to moan; he really was enjoying this.
Just like that I had a naughty thought.
Still kneeling I began to flex and push my bladder muscles. It didn’t take long for a small trickle of pee to wet my knickers, but I wanted more. I pushed a little harder and a bit more came out and a bit more, a bit more, a bit more, then the gates opened. Pee started gushing out of my body, through my knickers, through my black leggings and pooled under my bum. His manhood was now fully in my mouth, but I had to take him out for a moment, so I didn’t bite him, I needed to grit my teeth to stop a moan escaping.
He looked down inquisitively and saw what I was doing. How could he not? I was full on pissing myself just a few feet from his face. “now we’ve both pissed ourselves. Feel better?” I asked. He didn’t say anything. He simply pounced on me. Before long the back of my tank top was sopping wet as he had pushed me straight into my puddle, my leggings had been removed and he seemed to take great delight at looking at my wet knickers, okay, it wasn’t just pee they were wet with. He was kissing me all over and playing with my breasts. I couldn’t help but moan, I was powerless to resist.
From a straddling position he ripped me up into his strong arms and carried me to our bed. He threw me down with some force and pounced on me again. I was missing something. I knew they were close by, but I was feeling around but couldn’t find them. Oh, there they are. I took them in my hand and gripped them tight, they were still wet, and I wanted them close to me as a reminded of how this came about. What were they? His wet underwear.
I think you can all guess what happens next.
The next day I was speaking to some friends, just a normal generic conversation, but I brought up about the bad traffic the day before. I was told there was no traffic that day, the roads were quiet.
Seems someone hasn’t been one hundred percent honest. Well, guess that makes two of us.
The pasta was ruined by the way. |
This story is kind of a part two to my last story, Maggie's Desperate Afternoon. You definitely don't need to read that one to understand this one, but it does build on things. It's also inspired by my own experience when first getting into omorashi and actually allowing myself to indulge in holding. Hope you enjoy 🙂 Also, I'm out of ideas for how to continue. Any requests/ideas would be appreciated (even if it's a new character/storyline!)
**********************************
Maggie subtly stepped from, foot to foot as she finished up her last 5 minutes on cash. She glanced at her empty water bottle and groaned inwardly. It had really caught up to her. She wasn't quite desperate yet, but it was definitely becoming difficult to stand still and focus on her job.
She tightly crossed her long, slender legs and smiled at a customer as she handed them change. 5 minutes seemed like forever.
She had actually been planning this... but she didn't think she'd have to go this badly so quickly. She thought back to last month's near accident after work and remembered how it felt. She was embarrassed to admit to herself that she liked something about it. She was a very competitive person, and she was determined to see what her true breaking point was. She'd held from time to time at home since then, but always caved and let herself pee before getting truly desperate. Today was going to be different though.
Her plan was to skip the bathroom break after work, and get home quicker than last time, then hold for as long as she could. However, her need was growing quite quickly and she was beginning to doubt her ability to get home without embarrassing herself.
2 minutes left. She was ringing through her last customer. She scanned a 24 case of water and felt her bladder swell. She tightly recrossed her legs and bobbed in place. She definitely couldn't hold it until she got home. She felt disappointed in herself, but thought up another plan. She'd allow herself to go at work, but she'd have to drink an energy drink and a bottle of water before she left. That way she'd be desperate again by the time she got home, but wouldn't risk a public accident.
She rang through the last couple items in the customer's order and told them their total.
"Credit" the customer said.
He seemed to take forever to punch in his pin. The thought of getting relief soon seemed to have made Maggie's need 10x worse. She hopped from foot to foot and bit her lip as she waited for the transaction to be approved. Finally the receipt started printing. She handed it to the customer and rushed off to the back room.
She darted into the washrooms and into a stall. She got her panties down just before a powerful stream of pee flooded out of her and into the toilet. She sighed with relief. She was not expecting to be so desperate so quickly.
Then she remembered her original plan of holding until she got home and felt disappointed with herself. Could she have held it? Probably not, but she felt like she should have at least tried.
She washed her hands and punched out for the day.
It was just after 3:30 when she got back to the front checkouts and picked out her energy drink. She paused in front of the cooler, contemplating what brand and size of water to buy. Then she spotted a large can of iced tea and opted for that instead. She paid for her items and headed for the door.
It had become unseasonably warm in the last week. It was only mid March, which was normally below freezing in her city in Canada, but today the temperature was above zero and it felt like Spring. She decided to have her drinks on a bench at a nearby park.
She drained the last few drops of her iced tea by 4:00. She was enjoying the sun on her face and was really taking her time. Then she remembered her plan and chugged back her energy drink. About 1.5L of fluid down. She felt full and a bit uncomfortable. She wondered how long it would be before the liquid made its way through her body. An hour? Two? Should she wait at the park for a bit to give it a chance to pass through her? Probably.
She knew if she got home before the point of being really desperate she'd be less likely to hold on for longer, and more likely to to give in and let herself use the washroom. She needed to find a sweet spot of being desperate enough in public with no access to a bathroom, but not so desperate that her need was obvious to those around her. Then she'd get home and hang out in her back yard for a bit. That way she'd be close to a bathroom, just in case, but it wasn't immediately available.
She wasn't sure at this point if she was going to wet her pants, or if she'd just hold it until she felt she was at her true breaking point. She was conflicted, but figured she'd decide later...or the decision would be made for her later.
Anyway. She decided to wait in the park until she felt the first signals from her bladder. Then she'd have a roughly 10 minute walk to the bus stop, and a 30 minute bus ride, then a 5 minute walk home after that. She knew with all the fluid she consumed she'd get desperate pretty quickly.
She pulled out her book and began to read. It was 4:45 when she realized she'd been unconsciously crossing her legs. She'd been so into her book that she hadn't realized her bladder had been sending signals of filling up. She decided she'd better head out before things got more intense.
She stood up and felt the fullness in her bladder. For a second she doubted herself and her ability to hold on for the next 45 minutes, but she shrugged it off and made her way to the bus stop.
By the time she reached her stop her need had really grown. She stood by the sign and crossed her legs tightly and bobbed in place. There weren't many people around, but she still felt embarrassed and wanted to remain as subtle as possible. She glanced at her watch while she stepped from foot to foot , then recrossed her legs and bent forward slightly. 35 more minutes. I can do this.
Just then her bus pulled up. She smiled with relief and climbed on. The few stairs were a challenge, but at least she was on her way home.
She took a seat and tightly crossed her legs. She pulled out her book and started reading, hoping it would provide the same distraction it did earlier.
25 minutes later and she was deeply tuned into her book. Her legs were tightly crossed and she was squirming in her seat, but at least she wasn't thinking only of her need.
All of a sudden she heard a bang and the bus jerked to the side. She almost lost control with the suddenness of the movement, but managed to keep it together.
The bus pulled onto the shoulder of the road and completely stopped moving. What is happening. No no no this is not part of the plan.
The driver announced that the bus had a flat tire. Everyone was to exit the bus and wait for a replacement, which would be there in about 15 minutes.
Maggie did as she was told and left her seat, but she was freaking out. She thought she was going to be home in less than 10 minutes. She was not prepared to wait 15 minutes for a replacement bus.
She couldn't stand still. She started pacing around the area while contemplating what to do. She could walk home from here, it was about 15 minutes. It would probably be faster than waiting for the bus. And people would be less likely to catch onto her need if they were just passing her on the street, rather than spending 15 minutes with her. She was sure she wouldn't be able to remain discreet in the next 15 minutes.
With that she took off in the direction of her house. Walking was helping a bit, just like last time, but every time she came to a crosswalk/stoplight and had to stop moving, well she couldn't stop moving. She hopped from foot to foot and wiggled in place, almost giving up on subtleties with how desperate she was becoming. She of course didn't want anyone to catch on to her predicament, but she was also beginning not to care as long as she made it to the privacy of her own home dry. She definitely regretted drinking so much, and waiting at the park for so long, and honestly just regretted her whole situation.
She was nearly home when she was hit with an unimaginable wave of desperation. She was forced to stop walking and tightly cross her legs as a small drop of pee escaped. Oh my god oh my god no. I have to make it home. She resisted the urge to shove a hand in her crotch and pretended to look through her purse as she regained composure. She took a shallow, quick breath and began walking again, slow and steady.
She felt the dampness in her panties and felt her face flush, grateful she didn't lose more, but embarrassed none the less.
She was within a block of her home and reached into her purse for her keys--which were thankfully there this time--then thought about what to do next.
Option 1: Give up and go to the bathroom--it would feel so good, but she didn't love the idea of giving up.
Option 2: head inside where she could be completely alone, and hold to the point of wetting. Tempting, but the idea of clean up kind of grossed her out.
Option 3: hold on for 15 more minutes in her backyard. Then she'd still have a definite challenge of remaining dry for 15 minutes, but would be outside juuust in case she didn't make it. Plus if she did hold on, she'd have the added challenge of making it through her house and upstairs to the bathroom. This seemed like the best option. She knew she'd be satisfied with herself by the end.
She walked around the block to her backyard, and as soon as she opened the gate she immediately doubled over and shoved both hands into her crotch, which felt damp. She was wearing light grey plaid trousers and hoped there wasn't a wet patch. Although at this point she supposed it didn't matter, because no one could see her.
She realized she'd started sweating with the effort to hold it all back, and decided 15 minutes was impossible. She'd start with 5 and go from there.
She frantically paced around her backyard, both hands in her crotch, pausing every so often to cross her legs as she was overcome with waves of desperation. She felt her body give out for a second, and a trickle of pee escaped her urethra and soaked her hands.
No. I can't do this anymore. Not even for 5 minutes. This is enough. I'm giving up.
She raced to her back door and frantically hopped from foot to foot as she dug in her purse for her keys and tried to unlock the door. More pee was escaping. She was holding back with all her might, but every few seconds it slowly leaked out, no matter what she did.
She'd just got the door unlocked, and felt her body completely give in. She could feel warmth spreading down the back of her legs.
Oh my god I can't believe this.
She buried both hands in her crotch and crouched down and did manage to stop the flow, but only just, and not before a small puddle formed on her back porch.
She didn't feel any relief yet. In fact, losing control and letting some pee out seemed to have only made her need worse. There was no way she'd make it upstairs to the bathroom, and she really didn't want to clean up a mess in her house.
She quickly trotted off her porch and beside her shed. She'd lost control again before getting her panties down, but at least her pants were out of the way. She squatted and peed through her underwear and onto the ground below. She couldn't believe how badly she had to go in such a short time. She sighed with relief and leaned back against the shed.
Her whole body was trembling, her face was hot and sweaty. Any embarrassment she should have been feeling was replaced with satisfaction. She'd done it. She'd definitely reached her breaking point this time.
What's next? She thought to herself. |
Mia was an exceptional student and always very attentive during lessons. But the next two periods of the day she could not stop thinking about that flowy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. She thought about his warm bright smile when he solved a problem, and quite frequently she found herself thinking about what it was like when he wet himself it the library. Near the end of 8th period, the last class of the day she felt her phone vibrate. It was from Lucas:
“I uh, still have your backpack. Meet me in the Cafeteria at 3:10?”
She smiled before responding,
“Sounds good, see you then. 🙂 “
When Lucas got the message his spirits lifted a little. She didn’t hate him at least, or maybe she was just being nice. But at least she wasn’t making fun of him.
Lucas heart was beating so fast when the final bell rang at 3:00. He wasn’t the type to get nervous around girls, but this girl, he didn’t know why but something was different about her. She was the nicest person he’d even met, and beautiful in an effortless way. Her blonde hair looked to pretty, even just pulled back in a pony tail. And what he really liked was that she was kind to him, not just because he was good at basketball. And now he had scewed it all up. His cheeks burned just thinking about the earlier incident. And he shuddered thinking about how this wasn’t the first time he’d had an accident like that. It was however the first time he’d gotten caught.
No matter how nice Mia was, there’s no way she could just keep this to herself. By 3:07 only a few stragglers remained in the hall, and he packed all his stuff deep into his backpack. He cringed when his fingers felt the damp fabric at the bottom of his bag. Then he grabbed both his and Mia’s backpack and started towards the cafeteria with his head held low.
Mia looked up from her book and saw Lucas approaching still looking deeply ashamed. The cafeteria was nearly empty. She gave him an encouraging smile and said, “Hey Lucas,” perhaps a little too brightly.
“Um... hi.” His head was still down. “Here’s your, uh, your backpack.” He said.
This was out of character for him; Lucas was anything but shy. But all Mia could think was how cute he sounded when he stammered nervously.
“Thanks for uh, you know, letting me... borrow... it.” He finished.
She noticed he was now wearing some black athletic shorts and a t-shirt, and she was both relieved and confused. Taking this in, she forgot to respond and and saw him glumly turn to walk away.
“Wait, Lucas.” She grabbed his arm. Wow, he really was strong.
He stopped and looked back at her with a glimmer of hope it his eyes. “I don’t mean to pry or anything,” she said. “But what happened? And how did everything go... you obviously...” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “changed.... how?” Mia asked trying not to sound overly interested.
Lucas sighed, “Can we not talk about this right here? Could I walk you to your car?”
“”Don’t you have a game?” She asked.
Maybe she was just trying to make up an excuse, he thought. “Well ya, but I don’t have to be a warm ups till 5:30... I understand if you don’t want me too though.”
She smiled, “No, I’d like that.”
They started walking to the parking lot, both of the silent for a couple minutes.
“Lucas?” Mia said softly. “I’m not gonna tell anyone.”
He was quiet for a second, then he sighed once again, looking around, glad nobody was nearby. “It’s just... ugh. It’s so embarrassing to be 16 years old and have... like, you know,” he lowered his voice even more, “accidents like this.”
Wait... Mia thought. Did he just say accidents. As in accidentsssss, as in this has happened before. In a barely audible whisper she said, “Accidentsss? Um, has this happened before?”
Realizing what he had just admitted to, his face got beat red and he stammered, “What?... uh. No. I mean... No. I didn’t... I haven’t... I, until today I... I meant, um, accident, like one.”
“Lucas???” Mia said, not buying it.
Mumbling he said, “itmayhavehappenedonceortwice.”
“What?” She asked, unable to understand him.
“It May have happened once or twice,” he whispered.
She just looked at him softly, not sure what to say.
“Ughhhh” he said.
“What?”
“Well...” he started. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”
Mia gave him a questioning look.
“You’re so sweet and pretty and I wanted to ask you earlier in the library if you wanted to hang out sometime, but obviously you’d never hang out with me after I pissed my pants in front of you and then cried about it like a baby.” He blurted out.
She softened, “Lucas, I don’t think you’re a baby. I actually admired your kindness and willingness to learn...” she smiled, “but I can’t answer your question when you haven’t answered mine. “What happened after you left the library, how did you get changed?”
“How about you come ‘study’ with me tomorrow afternoon, and then I can tell you?” Lucas said.
Tomorrow is a Friday, Mia thought, her parents would probably let her hang out that evening, especially if she was ‘tutoring a friend’. “That sounds lovely,” she said. |
Friday Afternoon:
They had planned for Lucas to pick Mia after he got done with practice and bringing her back to his place to study.
Meanwhile, Mia was waiting nervously at home.
MIA’s POV:
I can’t believe I’m going to Lucas Green’s house. Lucas Green said I was pretty. Okay, Mia, chill. You are not this girl, drooling over jocks. Well maybe he’s different, she battled out her thoughts. One in particular popped into her head, how could she have watch Lucas embarrass himself as he not only wet himself in front of me, but also let it slip that he’s had accidents in his recent past. How could I watch that and not tell him that I wet the bed until I was 12?! Am I a terrible person?
No I couldn’t have told him, he could tell the whole school, and who are they gonna believe, me or him.
Ugh I don’t know. I need to get dressed. Mia pulled her hair down, picking out some slightly ripped jeans and a black v-neck for her study date... was it a date? Are we even going to study? She picked out some dainty gold jewelry to complete the outfit.
She saw Lucas pull up outside and rushed out the door, hollering goodbye before they realized that other student she was tutoring was a boy.
End POV
As Mia walked out of her house Lucas smiled, she was dressed simply, but her hair was down and she just looked so cute.
“You look nice,” he said as she hopped in the car. “I picked us up some coffee on the way over here.”
“Thank you.”
“So... I just want to get this over with,” he said. “I know you have some questions. Is it okay if we just drive around, we can stop at the park and talk in the car, but I don’t want to be around my parents, or anyone else for that matter...?”
“That’s fine Lucas. Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by asking questions yesterday. If you don’t want to do this you don’t have to. We can just forget about what happened yesterday, and move on.”
Lucas considered this for a moment, taking a big drink of his iced coffee, and then answered, “No, I think you deserve to know, especially having seen... it. I’m just nervous because I have never told anyone this before.”
“You can trust me.”
“Yeah I’m starting to sense that.”
“So, for starters, you never told me what happened yesterday after you left the library.”
“Well, I was holding your backpack, as you know, but that really didn’t offer too much coverage, so I got to the bathroom as fast as I could. Thankfully there was no one in there. I went in the stall, but it was evident that I could not wear these pants back to class! They were soaked. And getting cold. Then I remembered had I a spare set of practice clothes in my locker, the only trouble was how to get them. I waited until the bell rang and everyone was back in class, at least I hoped. I go to step outside the bathroom thinking the halls are clear and right on the other side is Mr. Johnson. I quickly hopped back into the bathroom, but I was so scared that... I actually wet myself a little more. Guess I was so shocked earlier that I didn’t realize I wasn’t done. I waited a couple more minutes and then I hurried out to my locker, grabbed my backpack, and hurried back to the bathroom. Then I just changed my clothes and put the wet stuff in the bottom of my bag, and went back to class. I was a little late but I didn’t get into too A much trouble. And when someone asked I just said I got some food on me during lunch and I had to change.”
He breathed a sigh I relief, surprised that he had just told all of that to the pretty girl sitting beside him, but she was actually really easy to talk to. He drank deeply from his coffee.
“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe Mr Johnson almost caught you. Can you imagine? You got pretty luck actually.” Mia said.
“I guess so. Okay my turn to ask you a question. How come you’re so comfortable about this? Like you don’t get all squeamish when we talk about it, and you didn’t even freak out yesterday when I literally wet myself in front of you.” Lucas didn’t realize that just by talking to Mia he was starting to open up a little, and refer more directly to what had happened.
“Well...” Mia thought for a second. I should tell him. “Yesterday you said I wouldn’t know what it’s like to have accident like that as a 16 year old... and I guess maybe I don’t, but there is something I should tell you... I don’t know how.”
“I think after what I’ve told you, you can tell just about anything Mia.”
“You’re right. Well... the thing is, I used to... I used to wet the bed.”
“...Mia everybody does that when they’re little. It’s not the same thing,” Lucas said.
“Okay, but Luke, I wasn’t exactly little.” A sadness he hadn’t seen in Mia before came over her. “I wet the bed until I was 12.”
“I’m sorry Mia, that sounds hard,” he said. “I don’t like to see you sad. You can go back to asking me questions if you want.”
“I was wondering, you said earlier you didn’t want to talk about this kind of think with your parents around. Don’t your parents know?”
“Kind of... They don’t know the full extent of it. I’ve started doing my own laundry because I don’t want them to know.”
“Why? They’re your parents, they love you.”
He downed the rest of his coffee before saying, “they love basketball playing Lucas Green, not pants wetting baby Lukie.”
Mia felt so sad for him. “Lucas do you really think that’s how they’ll feel?”
He just offered a sad nod.
“Hey Lucas?” He looked up as a tear spilled out of his eye. “That’s not that how I feel.”
He smiled. This girl is unbelievable. “Thank you, Mia. That means a lot,” he said. He was surprised how good it felt to finally open up to someone about this, But some part of him still thought she’d change her mind if she ever found out the truth about his not so little problem.
Speaking of problem, he was starting to need to pee, and he knew how fast caffein worked his way through him. But he didn’t want Mia to know, this was humiliating. So he just subtly crossed his legs.
“So, you mentioned that this is a bit of a reoccurring thing... what’s that like, and how have you gotten away with it for so long.” Mia said, bringing him back in.
“Oh, well I’m generally pretty careful, knowing these things could happen. And like I said I do my own laundry.” Lucas said, recrossing his legs the other way.
Mia nodded, not noticing his need to relief himself. A song came in the radio that she like, so she turned it up and started talking to him about music instead. She figured she had embarrassed him enough for the day.
Deep in conversation about artists and genres, Lucas become more and more desperate, but he didn’t know how to interrupt and tell her that they needed to go back to his house, quickly. It was becoming impossible for him to sit there without squirming.
Eventually said, “Mia I need, we need to go over to my house now.”
This caught her by surprise, as they seemed to be having a good conversation. But one look over at him with his legs crossed tightly and a worried expression on his face, she instantly understood.
“Okay lets go then,” she said with a smile.
He was relieved that she had simply agreed without questioning him, but now a new concern occupied him. In order to drive home he would need to uncross is legs to get his foot the gas, and he wasn’t entirely confident that he could do that without losing control.
Seeing him hesitate Mia gave him a questioning glance.
No he would not openly admit to the smart, pretty girl beside him that he was on the verge of having an accident. He was 16, a man he thought. He could make it home. Slowly he uncrossed his legs and backed the car up. He was relieved when he didn’t immediately leak. A little more confidently now he drove them out of the park. It was only 15 minute drive home from there. The car was quiet as Lucas couldn’t be bothered to make conversation anymore, and Mia knew what was going on although he didn’t know that. And she didn’t want to embarrass him by bringing it up.
Occasionally Mia would give him a cursory glance.
About 5 minutes in he was reaching his limit. His legs were pressed tightly together, but he refused to hold himself like a child with the girl we was crushing on right there. Once in a while he would look over at her and she would try to pretend like she wasn’t already looking at him. It was obvious that she knew what his predicament was, and he was blushing furiously.
Only 5 minutes away from the house now, Lucas was beginning to think he would make it, that is until they hit a huge pot hole all of the sudden. |
Lucas was beginning to think he would make it, that is until they hit a huge pot hole all of the sudden. He gasped out loud as a short squirt escaped, followed by another slightly longer squirt. He clamped down on his bladder as hard as he could and had some success in stemming the flow.
Mia looked over at him, preparing herself for what she might see. When she saw only a tiny, golf ball sized wet spot in between his legs she was surprised and relieved for him.
Lucas looked over and saw her looking at his crotch. When she looked up she gave him a soft smile, sad to see the shame he was wearing on his face. The worst of it was now that he’d lost control for a moment, it was the much harder to hold on. The remaining pee begged to be released, and he couldn’t help but put one hand on his crotch while the other held the wheel. As subtle as he was trying to be, it was clear that Mia knew exactly what he was doing and why. He was absolutely humiliated. He lost control again, but this time it was more of a slow leak, that became a small trickle. This one last several seconds before he was able to stop it.
Looking down he could now see a softball sized wet batch on the front of his jeans. He didn’t even want to see what the back of his jeans looked like. And he couldn’t bring himself to look at Mia. His house come into view and he drove down the windy road before pulling into his driveway.
He still needed to pee, though I little less desperately now. But he didn’t want to get up and broadcast his shame.
After about a minute of just sitting in the parked car, Mia said, “Lucas, we’re gonna have to go in eventually.”
He sniffled, a single tear ran down his cheek as he nodded.
Mia surprised him, and herself, by leaning in and brushing the tear off and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Come on,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt and opening the car door.
“M-my parents...”
She tossed him his sweatshirt that was in the back seat. “Throw this around your waist.”
He sighed, finally getting up and Mia was rewarded with a view of his butt, sporting a wet patch the size of a plate. He put the sweatshirt on with urgency as he realized how much he still needed to go. They entered the house and didn’t immediately see his parents. Lucas dashed up to his room and into the adjoining bathroom and slammed the door. Mia followed slowly behind. When she entered the room she couldn’t help but notice a faint smell of pee. Unsure of what to do, she pulled her work out of her backpack, thinking it would be best if she was busy with something when he came out.
She sat down on the edge of his bed and noticed a loud distinct crinkle. Poor Lucas, she thought.
A couple of minutes later he came out of the bathroom, his eyes a little redder and puffier, and Mia noticed that the front of his jeans were a little wetter than they had been.
Wordlessly he walked to his dresser, pulled out some different clothes and reentered his bathroom.
Mia kept working on her homework, ignoring the tingling feeling below her waist.
Meanwhile, in the bathroom Lucas got changed thinking about the pretty girl in the next room. How could he face her? And why did this keep happening in front of her? He took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom in a fresh pair of jeans.
“So, do you hate me?” Lucas asked.
“Of course not. Why would you think that.”
He walked over and sat down on the bed beside her cringing when the plastic sheet crinkled. Ugh... did she notice that?
He looked at her questioningly, but she said nothing about the noise from the sheet.
“It’s not very often you see a 16 year old pee his pants... and twice in 2 days? This is ridiculous,” he said.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Mia said.
Lucas just thought she was trying to make him feel better, but there was no secrete that she had that could compare to his. But he said, “sure.”
“I...” she couldn’t bring herself to tell him how his accident made her feel all tingly. Maybe someday, she thought.
“You what?” Lucas asked.
“I, um, I just care about you a lot already Lucas. And I know that your accidents make you feel ashamed... or idk worried, and I just want you to know if doesn’t change how I think about you.”
“Um, thanks Mia. That means a lot to me, really.”
“And you can tell me if there’s anything else on your mind.” Mia said.
“Uh, nope. Nothing really...”
Mia gently pulled back his comforter, and put her hand on his top sheet and rubbed her hand down the mattress and back up. The plastic sheet crinkled. “Luke...”
He said nothing choosing instead to look at his feet.
“I know what a plastic sheet sounds like Lucas.”
“What exactly did you want me to say, Mia?!” He snappped. “Oh ya, in addition to having a weak bladder and occasionally pissing my pants, I also wet the bed almost every night. Is that what you want to hear?!”
Now is was her turn to get teary eyed. “No, of course not. I don’t want to hear that you’re going through something difficult that you can’t control, or how fustrated it makes you.” She sniffled. “I just care about you Lucas, and I thought you trusted me.”
He wrapped his strong arms around the girl. “I’m sorry Mia, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He sighed and pulled back. “I’m not mad at you, you’ve been so kind to me through all of this. I’m just mad at myself.”
“Why are you mad at yourself?”
He said, “I’m mad because I’m 16 and I can’t even control my own bladder. Sometimes people at school think I’ve got it all together, basketball, looks, popularity,” Mia realized she had been one of those people at times, and she felt bad that she thought she knew everything there was to know about Lucas before she even met him. “But sometimes I just feel so alone. I have lots of friends, but I’ve been avoiding them lately and making excuses. I never go to sleepovers and there’s always this thought in the back of my head that none of them would still be here if they knew my secret.” He plopped all the way back on his bed, this time not worrying about his sheet, and stared at the ceiling.
Mia lay back with him and said, “Lucas, you are so brave, going through all of this alone. I’m so sorry you’ve felt so isolated lately. Does anyone else know?”
“Well my parents know that I wet the bed... and my brother,” he said. “That would be impossible to hide, and that’s why I started doing my own laundry. I hated the thought of my mom handling my pissy sheets and pajamas.” He said. “And they’ve seen me caught short and have a minor leak or something before... but they don’t really know how bad it is.”
“So I guess, not. No one really knows... except you now,” he said.
“Well I’m glad you told me then,” Mia said. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Has your little brother had any trouble wetting the bed?”
Lucas rolled his eyes. “No. It’s so frustrating. Do you know what it’s like having my 9 year old brother easily stay dry every night, while I try everything and still wake up soaked.”
Mia snuggled over and lay her head on His chest, saying “that sounds horrible. I hope you don’t mind if I ask you, and feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but how often do you wet the bed?”
He sighed once again, “About 5 or 6 times a week, I guess.”
“Have you always wet the bed?” she asked.
“Well until I was 10 it was every night. Then once and a while for another 3 years. But for a while when I was about 13 it stopped completely, for maybe a year or so... but it come back stronger than ever and that’s when I started having an occasional day time accident too.” he answered.
Mia was surprised my how much detail he was going into. Although he was a little embarrassed, he seemed relieved to finally be talking about this with someone.
“Huh,” Mia said. “That’s weird that it stopped and came back even worse. Have you been to a doctor at all?”
“No, not for this at least, since I was maybe 11 or 12. But you know what it’s like in a small town. My doctor is my friend’s dad, and I know he can’t tell his son anything because of confidentiality stuff, but I cringe thinking about going over to his house and seeing his dad. Or thinking about declining a sleepover once again and his dad would know exactly why...”
“I can see why that would be uncomfortable... have you ever considering using, you know, like protection.”
For a second Lucas was confused but then a shot straight up out of the bed. “What you mean like a diaper?! Are you kidding. Just because I piss my bed doesn’t mean I’m a frickin’ baby.”
Ugh, Mia shook her head. She shouldn’t have asked. She stood up and took both of his hands in hers. “Lucas, I didn’t say you were a baby. I just thought you might be more comfortable if you weren’t sleeping in cold wet sheets or trying to wash them every morning.”
He sat back down. “I guess I see where you’re coming from. But I can’t imagine that. And like I said, it’s a small town, if people see my mom out and about buying diapers in my size, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who they’re for.”
“I’m sorry Lucas, you’re right. It’s none of my business anyways. Should we work on your school work for a little while? That is what I came over for right?” Mia said with a smile.
“Sure. Anything’s better than talking about this.” he said pulling out his homework.
Mia talked him through multivariable equations and methods like isolation and substitution for solving. About an hour in Lucas’s dad Paul knocked on the door and stuck his head in.
“Ahh, you must be Mia,” he said. “Whipping my boy into shape are you?”
Mia chuckled, “Yes sir. We’ve got a long way to go.”
“Would you like to stay for dinner Mia?” ha asked.
Me looked at Lucas, who smiled and nodded, before answering “Sure, Mr. Green. Thank you.”
“No problem, and call me Paul.
15 minutes later they were all sitting down at the table eating hamburgers and talking about basketball. Mia could see that Lucas’s parents we’re proud of him, and she could help but wonder how they would react if they knew their star player was no stranger to wetting his pants. Or what they would think if they knew he’d peed his pants in front of her. But she pushed those thoughts from her mind and tried to enjoy her dinner.
After eating, Lucas drove her home, giggling at her as she sang every word to one of the songs. This girl was full of surprises, and her personality was just as beautiful as she was. Even after everything that had happened that day he couldn’t help but smile. When he got to her house, he opened her door like a gentleman, and walked her to the porch.
“I had fun tonight,” Mia said.
“Me too,” Lucas said. She fumbled with her keys, and He took this as an opportunity to lean in, brush the hair out of her face and plant one soft kiss on her lips. Just as he started to pull back, she reciprocated sliding her hand up his back.
She took a step back, smiled, and said, “So I guess this was a date then?”
He chuckled and said, “I guess you could say that. We should do this again sometime.”
“Yeah,” Mia responded, “and maybe with less studying.”
And less pants wetting too, Lucas thought. But instead he just smiled and said goodnight.
Mia stepped inside and leaned back against the door. She wanted to cherish this moment. |
The weekend was pretty uneventful for both Mia and Lucas. He managed to go both days without another accident, even waking up dry on Sunday morning, which always put him in a good mood. They exchanged a few texts, which were growing more flirty each day.
On Sunday afternoon, Rebecca, Mia’s mom got a text from her sister, that she’d gone into labor a couple of weeks early. After a quick phone call between Mia’s mom and her Aunt, and a discussion between her parents, they had decided to go stay with her Aunt Kasey for a week to help her adjust to life with a new born. Mia was disappointed because she was originally going to go with her parents and spend time with her new baby cousin, but she had too many tests going on at school that week to even considering going with them.
Since Mia was a very responsible 17 year old, her parents were comfortable leaving her home by herself for the week.
Her parents left that night leaving her home by herself without much to do. She decided she better do some laundry for school that week, when an idea struck her. This was the perfect opportunity to explore her curiosities about what is was like for Lucas having his accidents. She’d be doing laundry anyways, so she would really be creating any extra problems for herself, and she already felt a need to relieve herself.
She went to the kitchen and gulped down two tall glasses of water. She wanted to be desperate like Lucas was when he wet himself. She poured herself another big glass of water and headed to her room.
Evaluating her need she was probably at about a 4/10, so Mia a flipped on a movie, vowing to herself that she wouldn’t give in to her need until the movie was in. She flopped into her bed and took a big drink of water.
About 30 minutes she’d finished about half of her new glass of water on top of the 2 from earlier, and it was quickly making itself know in her bladder. She was up to about a 6 out of 10, which was certainly uncomfortable, but not unmanageable, so she tried to ignore it.
45 minutes later her 3rd glass of water was empty, and the movie was getting to the good part, not that Mia was hardly watching. Her urge had gone up to about an 8 and she couldn’t sit still she was fidgeting, and crossing her legs, a position she’d seen Lucas in on Friday. She thought, it wasn’t long after this point that he’d lost control and wet himself, but she wasn’t worried because she knew he had a weaker bladder than her.
10 minutes later the movie was nearing the end, and Mia had her hand jammed into her crotch. She thought she very well might have a genuine accident before the movie was over, but she wanted to wait it out. There was only about 10 minutes left anyway.
As the credits rolled it was all Mia could do to remain in control of her bladder. She didn’t want to be in her bed when she wet herself, so she forced herself to sit up. A tiny leak managed to escape, dampening her baby blue cotton panties, but no wetness was visible on her light-washed blue jeans. Very carefully she removed her hand from her crotch, losing another squirt in the process.
She didn’t want to give up yet. She wanted to really know how Lucas felt when he was trying to regain control and fight his need, even after leaking. She scooted to the edge of the bed, okay no more leaks she thought. That was good.
She gingerly stood up, keeping her legs pressed together. Despite her best efforts a trickle escaped, but she was able to stop it after a couple of seconds. She looked down, taking in the sight of the softball sized wet patch on her crotch. Not wanting to stain her carpet she decided to go to her bathroom which was down the hall. She took a few steps, and started leaking. Mia jammed her hand into her crotch, attempting to stop the leak and also enjoying the warm denim against her privates.
She waddled toward the bathroom with her hand pressed into her crotch and leaning forward. Every couple of steps she leaked a little bit. Finally she made it into the bathroom and admired her wet jeans in the mirror. She had a medium sized wet spot on the front of her jeans with wide steaks about half way down to her knees on both sides.
She reached her hand inside her jeans and underwear clamping a finger right over her pee hole. A tickle caught in her nose and she sneezed, her finger the only thing preventing herself from losing control completely. She wanted to know what that would feel like so she slowly removed her finger, opening the flood gates as a torrent of pee rushed out of her. The tingly sensation she’d experienced when Lucas wet himself as much more intense as she watched herself in the mirror with the pee still gushing out of her. The streams of pee broke off into new paths all of which raced towards her socks. She watched as the saturated fabric gave up and pee went straight through the jeans and onto the floor in a puddle the grew in all directions. Finally her flow stopped naturally and she forced the last little bit out, briefly splashing her feet in her puddle.
She felt the a different kind a wetness, more slippery, mixing with the pee in panties. She massaged herself through her jeans and panties, enjoying the feeling of the warm fabric. However, her body demanded for more direct pressure, she she slipped her hand back inside her pants and continued pleasuring herself until the tingling sensation intensified and spread from her groin to every area of her body, causing her to curl her toes before relaxing and taking a deep breath.
Wow. She thought. If only Lucas saw her now... she wondered what he would think. He’d probably be disgusted that she willingly took part in the thing he hated most about himself, and that she’d actually enjoyed it.
She contemplated this as she cleaned up the bathroom floor, stripped out of her wet clothes, and threw them along with some other clothes in the wash. She finished the night by taking a long hot shower and turning in early. As she drifted off to sleep she thought about Lucas and how she looked forward to seeing him at school tomorrow. |
Monday morning:
“Luuuuuucas. Lucas!” His mom called from the bottom of the stairs. “Lucas you’re gonna be late!”
...Nothing. She went up stairs, entering his room to wake him up. She opened his door and saw her 6’ tall, teenage son fast asleep, with his covers kicked off the bed. His grey sweat pants were soaked in the crotch and the dark grey sheets around his mid section were a shade darker than the rest.
Poor kid, she thought. Amy didn’t want to embarrass her son by waking him up, and learning that his mom had seen him humiliated in his wet sheets, but he was already running late, and he’d need a shower before going to school. Sighing she walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling her hand back when it felt cold wet fabric. She shook him awake saying, “Lucas, honey. You gotta get up, you’re gonna be late for school.”
He was startled awake out of a deep sleep, and opened his eyes to see his mom looking at him. The shock was enough to prompt his full bladder to empty on its own. He shot straight up, clamping a hand on his crotch, which did nothing but draw his mother’s attention to his already wet pants as they grew even darker with fresh pee, and a stream flowed over his hand.
“Mom!” He said putting a finger directly over his penis. “How many times have I told you NoT to come in my room!” He yelled hobbling to his bathroom with pee running down both of his legs. The door slammed.
Lucas was in the bathroom but it was already far too late. He took a shaky breath as he watched his ashamed reflection. There was no point trying to get to the toilet now. He had lost all control, pee gushing out of him, soaking straight through his sweats. He watched as a golden waterfall cascaded down to the huge puddle on the floor.
Sighing, he grabbed a couple of towels from the cabinet and threw them down to absorb his puddle of shame. He turned on the shower stepped in and broke down in sobs. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him.
Feeling bad enough about his accidents, which had been increasing in number lately, his mom seeing not only him asleep in his wet bed, but to have her wake him up and watch him piss himself while at least partly awake was the worst possible thing that could have happened for Lucas.
How was he supposed to face his mother now.
He stepped out of the shower toweling off, and gloomily got dressed for school, and threw his sheets in the wash. He trudged downstairs, and grabbed his keys, avoiding eye contact with hismother.
“Cam if you want a ride to school, I’m leaving.” Lucas said, leaving his little brother to scramble to put away his breakfast and grab his school stuff, and quickly run out to the car, which was already on with Lucas inside.
Frustrated with Lucas’s lack of patience with him, Cam smirked as he hopped in the car. “Hey bedwetter, why the long face?”
Lucas ignored him even though his comment stung.
“I heard mom telling dad that you had another accident, said she scared the piss right out of ya,” Cam said with a laugh.
Lucas slammed the car to a stop. “Do you want to walk to school? Or how would you like a fist to your face?”
“Oh ya? Well maybe I’ll just tell all the kids at school that you’re a bed wetting baby,” he taunted.
Lucas knew if Cam ever did anything like that his parents would punish him heavily, but it would matter. By then his social life would be over and he’d never stop getting picked on at school. His friends would ditch him and he’d have no one.
Lucas softened, “Cam, please. Don’t do that. Listen, I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier, really I am. I shouldn’t take my anger out on you. But seriously, please don’t tell anyone.”
That’s all Cam wanted to hear, an apology. He would never actually tell anybody, no matter what happened, even he knew the implications of something like that getting out. “You know I wouldn’t tell anyone,” he said.
“Love you little man,” Lucas said offering him a knucks as he dropped him off at his school.
Lucas drove the rest of the way to his school. It felt like it had been a long day already. As he walked into school he felt someone shove him. “Watch it,” he said turning around, but his anger dissipated when he saw Mia.
“Woah, what’s up with you grumpy pants?” Mia joked.
“I’m sorry Mia. It’s been a rough morning. I’m so glad to see you though.”
“What happened,” she asked concerned.
Lucas recounted how his mom had barged into his room to wake him up, saw him laying soaked in his own pee, and proceeded to wake him up. “She literally scared the piss out of me Mia,” he laughed but there was nothing funny about it at the time.
Then he told her about his fight with his brother and how he’d threatened to tell all of his friends about his ‘night problem’ as he called it.
Mia gave him a hug, “That sounds awful Luke. I’m sorry. Do you think your brother would actually tell anyone?”
Lucas shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but you never know.”
Mia planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see you during study hall for tutoring, and this time we actually need to study.”
“Okay, Lucas said if we must, I’d much rather do this,” Lucas said kissing her back but on the lips this time.
“Lucas!!” She squealed, swatting at him with her book. “We’re at school”
She giggled walking away, “see ya later,” he said as she walked away. |
Mia went into the kitchen and got a vase and some water for her flowers. “I bet you’re hungry after a hard practice,” she said. “Do you want me to put a pizza in?”
“Sure that sounds great,” Lucas said shifting uncomfortably. For goodness sake he thought. I just got here and already I need to pee. Can’t a just spend 5 minutes with this girl without mentioning my issues and reminding her what a big loser I am. It would be rude to ask to use her bathroom now before even sitting down to talk with her.
As Mia put the frozen pizza in the oven, Lucas walked, as nonchalantly as possible to the stool at the island and Mia walked over and sat beside him. She asked him about practice and his math test, trying to avoid bringing up his disagreement with his mom for fear of sounding overly interested. Plus she knew how easily embarrassed he was about the topic of his wettings. However, she soon noticed him fidgeting a lot more, a sure sign that he was getting more desperate to go, even if it was subconsciously.
Meanwhile, Lucas tried to be fully present and engaged in their conversation, although it was hard when he was focusing so hard on not wetting himself or putting his hand in his crotch. All of the sudden he lost a spurt into his boxers. Mia was talking but he wasn’t really listening, he got up suddenly, crossing his legs slightly and interrupted her mid sentence “uh, Mia... could you tell me where the uh bathroom is?”
She raised her eyebrows but responded “right off the hallway there,” she gestured, “first door on your left.”
He hobbled away before she even finished speaking. When he got to the door her lost a couple more small leaks, opening it and stepping inside he quickly unzipped himself and released his stream into the toilet with a sigh of relief. He’d made it... well, mostly. He shook himself to get the last few dropped off although it didn’t really matter as he could feel that his boxers were already a little wet. He pulled his pants down examining his underwear, and finding a wet patch in them smaller than the palm of his hand.
He sighed, nothing he could do about it he guessed, pulling up his khaki pants. There was a wet spot on the front, only about the size of a quarter but extremely noticeable on the khaki pants. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. His pants would likely dry pretty quickly, but he didn’t have any way to cover it up. Sighing once again he figured the only thing he could really do is be honest. He was fairly certain that she wouldn’t really be bothered by it, but he was embarrassed none the less. It was weird though, after his game she had been so “not bothered” that she’d even touched his wet pants. Maybe to confirm what she thought she saw? He thought. But then he remembered the way she’d traced the outline of his wet spot almost seductively. With that in mind he began to stir in his boxers.
He pushed the those thoughts out of his mind. Taking a deep breath he exited he bathroom. Mia was checking on the pizza, so her back was to Lucas but she’d heard him walk in. “Did you make it okay?” She asked.
“Yeah... well, I um. Kind of.”
She turned around only seeing the very small wet spot on his pants. She felt her heart flutter at the sight. His eyes wouldn’t meet hers, they were glued to the floor.
She walked over and stood right in front of him. Still he wouldn’t look at her, so she grabbed his hand and held it in hers, giving it a small squeeze of support. Finally he looked up at her, and she stoop on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “It’ll dry pretty quick,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.
His girl was amazing, he thought, as she took him by the hand and led him over the the island where he sat down. She served them both up a couple slices of pizza and got a bottle of coke for each of them, before sitting down beside him. He was about to object to the coke knowing it’s affect on him, but it sounded so good with his pizza. Plus, he knew where the bathroom was now, so he was sure he wouldn’t have another accident. He would be really careful, he decided, accepting the coke and taking several swigs.
After finishing a couple slices of pizza and half of his coke, Lucas said “can I ask you something?”
Mia swallowed before saying, “of course.”
“I get that you’re really accepting of my, uh... issues, and don’t get me wrong, I love that about you. It’s not lost on me how screwed up it is... how screwed up I am to be 16 and pissing my pants or wetting my bed. It’s just... if the roles were reversed, I don’t know how I would react. Like, isn’t it a bit off putting to see that and then to still want to be close to me or kiss me or whatever? I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you to feel like you have to date me... like out of sympathy or anything.” This was probably the biggest speech he’d ever given about his accidents, and the insecurities that came with them.
Mia sat quietly for a moment, thinking just how to answer this. Truth be told, Lucas’s desperation and his wettings were anything but off putting for Mia. She wanted to ease him into her new found appreciation for his accidents, because she quite honestly was still learning about it herself. “Well... I wouldn’t say it’s off putting. I’m attracted to you Lucas, and I certainly don’t have any problems when kissing you when—“
“When I haven’t just pissed my pants?” Lucas interrupted.
“Actually, that’s uh... not what I was going to say. You’re still pretty hot in your wet pants.” She said. “In fact.. oh never mind.”
He gave her a questioning look. “No, in fact what??”
“Something about it makes me want you even more,” she finished.
The shocked silence that followed made Mia incredibly nervous. Holy crap, she thought, did I really just admit to that out loud. |
Thank you for the suggestions! They were very helpful. I think you will like where I went with this. This may be my favorite chapter yet.
enjoy : )
Mia got them both a tall glass of water. Then they went to her room and snuggled into her bed, propping some pillows up behind them so they could sit up and watch the movie. Mia flipped on a comedy that she’d recorded and Lucas put his arm around Mia whom rested her hand in his thigh.
Mia had seen the movie before but she wanted to show it to Lucas. However, not 30 minutes she looked over at him and he was fast asleep. She contemplated waking him up, but she knew that he’d not only been under a lot of physical stress lately with basketball but he’d been under a lot of emotional stress as well trying to keep his embarrassing secret hidden. He was no doubt completely drained, so she figured she would let him sleep. She didn’t mind just watching the movie anyways because it was one of her favorite.
About 45 minutes later, she felt him stir slightly and mumble something incoherent in his sleep. She smiled, before turning her attention back to the movie. That is until her hand, which was still resting in his lap detected a bit of wetness. She tore her eyes off the screen immediately fixing them on Lucas’s pants while he began to wet himself, still completely deep in sleep. Rather than pull her hand away she gently slid it closer to his crotch. She watched in awe as wetness blossomed across his lap and his hot pee spread down the fabric of his khaki pants, a single trickle running over her hand. Her left leg, which was intertwined with his legs, became damp with his pee as her jeans absorbed the moisture. She felt a certain wetness dampen her own panties, although the substance was slipperier than urine. She was incredibly turned on. Finally his stream died out, and she sat in shock for a few moments.
She didn’t want to wake him up because she knew he would be ashamed, but she figured she probably better. She kissed his cheek, and then gently bit his ear. He stirred but didn’t wake up. She kissed his neck and he stirred again, so she swung her one leg over him, now on her knees hovering above him and softly kissed his lips. This woke him up and he reciprocated, kissing her back. Still turned on from watching his accident, she kissed him with more passion than before. Then all of the sudden he pulled back abruptly.
His eyes grew wide as he came to came realization. His hand, which had been rubbing Mia’s back, jerked away as he felt his pants. Just as he had suspected his hand gripped soaking wet fabric, still slightly warm. His mouth dropped open and he looked at Mia mortified. Not only was he soaked, but he could seek that she had a large wet patch on the side of her leg. It was bad enough that he’d had wet the bed with her in it, but it was her bed, and he’d somehow managed to actually get piss on her.
“Hey hey, don’t freak out. Lucas, please don’t freak out,” Mia pleaded when she saw the stunned look on his face.
“Freak out? I’m way past freaking out Mia.” He said defensively and she leaned back. “Look at me, look at your bed, Jesus Mia, look at your jeans.”
“The clothes and sheets will wash, we can scrub the mattress, I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” Mia said. She was still straddling him but she sat back on her heels to give him the space that he needed.
“I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just... it’s just not fair.” He sighed, “This is always happening to me, just me.”
“Oh well if that’s the problem...” she said. “I could level the playing field?”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“Well you’re right Lucas. I wasn’t being entirely fair. I have seen you in more compromising positions than you’ve seen me in.”
He just gave her a curious look.
So Mia, taking charge once again, leaned over and grabbed his hand. She very slowly guided it towards the crotch of her jeans. He didn’t make any attempt to pull away, his eyes going back and forth between the mischievous look on her face and the crotch of her jeans. So Mia placed his palm against the inside of her thigh. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked. He shook his head. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay.” He nodded. She wasn’t planning on really wetting herself, just a teeny bit to make him feel better.
With his hand just below her crotch, still kneeling on the bed with him laying underneath, she released a single squirt. It dampened her panties but that was all. She realized just how bad she actually needed to go. She let another squirt go, this one left a very small wet spot on her jeans. Lucas had his eyes glued to her jeans in shock, but he managed to pull his gaze away for a moment to look at her face. He watched as Mia gently but her lower lip. God, if it wasn’t hot enough having his hand right there on her upper thigh, or her taking control like the confident woman she was, seeing her so turned on by this was sexy as hell. She started dribbling, and had to clamp down hard to stop. One small trickle ran over Lucas’s thumb. He wiped it off on her jeans, although Mia noticed he didn’t seem to be grossed out by it.
Although her need to release her bladder had increased now that she’d allowed some temporary relief, Mia didn’t dare pee any more. She didn’t want to overwhelm Lucas. But looking at him he was anything but that.
“See, Lucas there’s nothing wrong with a little accident every once in a while,” she said with a smile.
“That wasn’t an accident,” he responded blankly.
Mia wondered if she had just made a huge mistake, judging by the unamused day tone of his voice, but she didn’t know what Lucas was plotting.
With a glance over at her empty water glass on the bedside table, knowledge of a full bottle of coke filling her bladder along with his previous experience that told him how much harder it was to hold after having wet yourself a bit, he took a gamble.
In one swift motion Lucas put his arms around her back pulling her in and causing her to collapse on top of him, he rolled over. Now he was the one kneeling over her. Then he began tickling her neck.
“Luuuucas,” she screeched with a giggle. But he only continued with the tickling alternating between her neck and under arms. He used his knees to trap her arms at her sides so she could neither defend herself from his tickling or hold herself when she began losing the battle with her bladder. This didn’t stop her from squirming around like crazy, but he was strong enough that that tactic didn’t get her very far.
“Lucas stop, I’m gonna peeee,” she said between laughs. He smirked, still tickling her relentlessly, but with his eyes now fixed on the crotch of her jeans. No sooner had she said that than she lost a forceful spurt.
This only caused her to laugh even harder and she lost any hope at control, pee gushed out of her, running in little trails all over her jeans. Lucas watched in awe as wetness bloomed across Mia’s lap, and he felt himself stiffen in his wet boxers. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to, and her hot pee began to pool under her butt. Her stream finally tapered off leaving two very wet, giggly, turned on teenagers in Mia’s bed.
“Now that was an accident,” Lucas declared.
Mia had to give him credit for creativity, but she didn’t mind a bit that he’d finally got the upper hand on her. She grasped him by the shirt and pulled him down on top of her kissing him with passion. He kissed her back, matching her enthusiasm as she ran her fingers through his wavy brown hair. Mia forced herself to pull away, both of them breathing heavily, and said “we’d probably better wash up.”
Lucas realizing just how far he might have gone if she hadn’t stopped the both of them sat up looking slightly abashed. “That’s probably a good idea,” he said. |
“Hey guys, I’m Amethyst and want to tell you guys something naughty. You probably know who I am, but if you don’t I’ll recap it all for you, so I’m a crystal gem. A Crystal Gem? What’s that? So I’m a alien being that exists as a magical gemstone projecting a holographic body, and one of the four "Crystal Gems", a group of Gems who defend Earth. In our group we have Garnet, myself, the incredible infuriating leader Pearl and Steven Universe, who is a half gem and human. Anyway let’s cut the small talk and let’s get naughty, yeah!
Our story takes place on a dark and stormy night in Beach City, now I’m fast asleep in my bed, in my pjs and I’m starting to feel I need to pee. So this is not one of stories where the characters must pee, but is lazy to get out of bed and so he/she decides to wet the bed. Oh no, no this story ain’t like that. Right, so I’m there fast asleep, my bladder is aching for its relief, but not even the pain of my sore bladder wanting to let it go could wake me up.
Ok now skip all the way to 3 am, that’s the time I always get up because I play video games early in the morning so when I woke up, I was completely mortified to find out I pissed the bed. I actually felt like crying because how embarrassing this was, I raced out of bed and went to the bathroom where my beach towel is and placed it on top of wet sheets and there was no way I would sit down and play games with a pissed stained pants on and also wore panties under them, so they are definitely wet as well. So I stripped completely naked, I thought to myself, it’s 3 am who the hell would catch you being nude at this time of the day.
You’re all are probably asking me, why didn’t I wear a diaper now, but it was because I didn’t have any and I never thought of the idea until Steven told me. I played my game and while playing I thought this the first time I ever fully displayed my body. So anyway I played my game and stopped at 7 am and then I went to put on a clean pair of pjs to trick them that nothing happened to them last night and they were identical so that’s a big win for me. I felt my bed and the towel soaked up most of my piss and I was pleased to find out that it’s drying up, I close it back to keep out anyone looking at my secret.
We all eat breakfast nothing special just bacon and eggs, my brain at the time was fixated with my accident where I uncontrollably overdosed on orange juice, I started feeling a urge to go, but I couldn’t go now stupid Pearl has to make a mission briefing now and you guys are wondering why not just ask her to start later, but no she’s such a bitch, she would let Steven go and Garnet if she has to, but she always treats me as I’m the unwanted person on the team.
So I go, I put my desperation aside and go attend the briefing. It was all about what are we going to do of this thing that faced a problem to use when we traveled to that planet and then she dragged on with another topic and this topic made this briefing longer than the usual ones. At that time it was 8:30, my bladder now was aching for its relief.
I put my hand in my panties to feel my bladder and I discover that I could burst in any second. With Pearl’s stupid speech it dragged my bladder to become full and at that moment I took my hand out and walked with my hand stuck in between my legs. I can feel I’m about leak so I hurry up, I run as fast as I could to my room, I then lose the hold and leak. I fight for my survival, with one gone I know that a second one will arrive. At times like this I wish I was like Garnet because she’s a fusion between two gems - Ruby and Sapphire.
That means that as a fusion Garnet has two bladders and means that she has the capacity to hold it longer. With my desperation I forgot to lock my room’s door and the bathroom door, that’s just a warning for what’s coming up. I lose the battle of the second leak and I’m scared it’s going to happen.
I pull my pjs pants down, but my bladder is starting to give up, it’s spouting drops of pee and then I lose control, it happens! My golden piss rains down my legs, my whole pants become wet, but to my enjoyment of my wetting I hear the voice of Steven. I stop and realise that I never locked the door to my room, I was so scared I hoped that Steven does not check the bathroom.
He steps in as says “ Amethyst, I need my X-Box controller back please.” So I say it’s on the bean bag there near the TV. He grabs it and then tries to find me to say thank you. It is inevitable that he finds me in the bathroom, he stares intently at my wet pjs pants and then looks up at my teary face. “It’s okay Amethyst, it’s just an accident you don’t need to worry.” I’m forced to tell him the whole story and tell him my dirty little secret. I confess that accident that I am currently crying about is because I wanted to, I tell him about the morning. He places the controller down on the counter and touches my shoulders and says “Amethyst if you really want to play around with your bladder I think you should by diapers.
A diaper? I say, I’ve never heard of one before Steven tells me what they are used for an underwear that allows the wearer to urinate or defecate without the use of a toilet, by absorbing or containing waste products to prevent soiling of outer clothing. I was so happy, I grab my purse and ask Steven if he could help me buy some, he agreed and we sneaked out of the window because we don’t want Garnet or Pearl to know Amethyst secret. As I’m writing this they don’t even have a clue.
To Be Continued...
Edited April 12, 2020 by Batman007
(see edit history) |
As a lesbian I find it hard to find much content based on two adult women together. So I decided to try writing one. I don't have much experience with writing. So feel free to give advice.
It all started with a add on craigslist. "Looking for a live in female slave, for a female master. You will get a $1000 a month allowance, in return your body belongs to me and you will give up all autonomy". I read it and was tempted that's a lot of money and part of me was interested in giving another women that control over me. I replied back to her and she organised for me to fly out the next week.
Not long later I found myself on the flight. She had booked first class tickets. The first time in my life I had flyed first class. I enjoyed the free drinks and comfortable seats and tried to ignore the feeling of apprehension that was building in my stomach. The time came to depart the plane. I looked around the arrivals lounge to see if I could see any sign of her. Then I saw a thin blonde haired women in a tailored suit holding a sign with my name "Amelie". I walked over to her. "Hello Dr D'epifanio", I said. "Call me Jen" her voice was low and musical. She took my hand and guided me outside to her car. I don't know much about cars but I could tell hers was expensive.
We got back to her place and she started making us dinner. Stir fried vegetables. She told me about herself as she cooked. That she was a lecturer at the local university. That her parents had disowned her when she came out as gay. She served us food as started to discuss her expectations of me as her slave. I started to understand she would be pushing me to my limits. But she established a robust safeword system. Telling me if anything was a limit to use the word red, if I was uncomfortable use the word orange and if I was happy use the word green. She seemed to know what she was doing and I felt like I could trust her.
I fell asleep on her couch and in a sleepy haze awoke to find her lifting me up and carrying me to her bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow I fell asleep. When I awoke the next day she had made me breakfast in bed. It crossed my mind being a slave to such a caring master could be quite a nice experience. While we eat she explained the plans for the day. She was going to go to work but would only be gone an hour or two. While she was at work she was going to leave me tied to her bed. She explained the idea of having me completely reliant on her for all my needs while I was tied up turned her on.
I saw no harm in that so agreed. She tied my hands and feet to the bed. She then went into the wardrobe and brought out a puppy pad, you use to toilet train a puppy. Then positioned that under me. I asked her what the pad was for. She told me just in case I need the toilet when she is gone. I blushed bright red but figured she is only going to be gone a hour or two it will be fine. She turned on the TV for me to watch then left.
The first couple of hours went by quickly. I was happy watching the cartoons she had put on and knew she wouldn't be long. But soon after I started to get worried worrying where she was. I had pins and needles in my arms and she still hadn't turned up. It went past mid day. I started to feel the need to use the toilet now. I wasn't sure how long I could hold it. I was starting to get annoyed and upset she wasn't back yet. My bladder got fuller and fuller. A lump starting to form were my bladder was. I felt myself on the verge of tears. I knew if she didn't come soon I would have a accident. My movement was restricted I couldn't even hold myself to contain the flood inside me. Finally my bladder gave up. It came rushing out of me. My trouser and pad got soaked. I lay there in shame dreading her return feeling my accident turn cold.
I heard her walk into the room. She looked at my wet eyes and the puddle on the bed. "Shush your okay darlin" she says to me sitting on the side of the bed starting to undo the rope. I feel her massage my numb hands for a few minutes. Then she moved onto untying my feet.
"What's your colour" She asks me. Humiliated I choke out "Amber, Jen I'm all wet". Jen softly strokes my hair for a few minutes. "Don't worry love we can soon fix that" she whispers in my ear and then leaves the room returning with a bowl of soapy water, she put the bowl on the floor next to my bed and gets another pad out of the wardrobe and a pair of pyjamas. I feel her pull of my wet pants and my eyes sting with shame. I see her get a sponge and start cleaning me up gently with the warm water. Once I am mostly clean she pulls the soiled pad from under me and puts the clean one in its place. She then drys me off and pulls some clean pants back on me.
I can barely look at her when she is doing this. Once she is finished. She climbs on the bed and pulls me into a cuddle. I can't resist and rest against her. I asked her why she was gone so long. She tells me after kissing my forehead that it was the start of my training. |
The second part is now complete 🙂
We cuddle for some time but eventually I start to get restless. “Jen can we go out”. I ask. She looks up at me, I realise she looks tired, but she nods. “We can go out for dinner she says, just give me a minute to get ready”.
“Oh, where are we going do I need to get changed" I ask. She walks towards the bathroom with some clothes and looks back at me with those glittering eyes. “I will dress you”. I sit on the bed and wait for her to finish getting ready. I look around the bedroom. She is neat to a perfectionist level. There is little personalisation in this room. Even the sheets are plain and grey. A crimson tinge comes to my cheeks when I think how close I must have come to soaking her seats. I look to the pad underneath me obviously there in case of another accident. I stand up pick up and walk to the bin and stuff it in. That won’t be needed, I think.
Jen comes out. She looks good. Dressed slightly more casually then normal in a white shirt and black jeans she still looked smart and intimidating. She glances over at me sizing me up then out of the wardrobe she brings out a black dress and heels. They were not the clothes I had brought with me.
Jen strides up to me and very gently starts undressing me. Until I am standing naked in front of her. I shiver slightly feeling vulnerable. Jen’s fingers gently caress my body sliding down my exposed breasts making a trail down to my stomach were they abruptly stop. I feel myself get wet down there. I want to feel more of her touch. She gently puts her hands on my hips and turns my body around and uses my position to help me into the dress she had brought over. Guiding me to step into the dress and then easing the zip up. “I didn’t see you as the type to wear dresses” I asked her.
“I’m not. When you agreed to come over, I bought you a whole new wardrobe.” Jen replied “Now step into these”
I turn and look and see she has some panties in her hand. She bends down guides them over my feet and pull them up. There silky coolness feels good against my wetness. She helps me with the heels to and then she has me by the hand and we are leaving.
It feels good to be leaving her apartment. I had only been there for one day and I had already been going stir crazy. We walk to her car hand in hand and then she opens the door for me to sit in the passenger seat. She gets in and starts driving. I ask her where we are going. She smiles towards me “a surprise, somewhere special”. We drive for a long time after half an hour I ask. “Jen are we nearly there”. She laughs and tells me to just enjoy the ride.
She pulls into carpark after an hours driving. I recognise the name as one of those celebrity chiefs you see on TV. I undo my seatbelt and start to get out. “Wait” Jen exclaims.
I turn to look at her. I ask her what’s wrong. For the first time I see Jen look shy. She puts her hand in her pocket. “Will you do something for me”. At this point in time I was willing to do anything. My attraction for her had been growing greater and greater. I was still wet down there for her. “If I put a diuretic into your drink during dinner will you drink it. It turns me on to see you desperate” she said. I was willing to do anything for her. Except that.
“I don’t feel comfortable with that, especially after my accident earlier” I told her. She looked disappointed and she turned a slight red colour. “I enjoyed helping you after you had your accident” she confessed. This shocked me. I felt a few feelings run through me, shame, confusion, arousal. “Just desperate no more accidents?” I clarify. She grins and pulls a box out of her pocket, “just desperate”, she shows me the box I can see it is a diuretic. “Order whatever drink you like inside and I will add a sachet” she advises me. I nod my understanding and we go in.
The inside of the restaurant looks classy. We wait to be seated. Jen slips her hand inside mine as we wait. I feel my stomach lurch and a new dampness downstairs. I really like her I realise. A waiter comes over and guides us to our seat. I look over the menu and feel a brief panic. I can’t afford this. Seafood meals in the double figures. Expensive wine. I have never even set foot in a place like this. Then I relax and remember Jen is taking care of it. “Jen I have never tried seafood before”. She glances at me and smiles warmly. “I will order for you darlin” She then gestures for the waiter to come over. She orders us both a bottle of wine to share and lobster. A quick glance at the menu lets me know the wine is one of the more expensive ones on the menu. The waiter brings over our glasses and pours the crimson liquid in to each glass and then leaves the remainder of the wine on the table. Jen reaches over and takes my glass. As promised, she adds the diuretic and hands it back. I take a sip. For someone with no knowledge of wine it tastes good I can’t taste any medicine in it. I finish my first glass before the food comes out.
Jen pours me another drink. I sip this one slowly while we talk. I am curious to know more about Jen. I notice she is drinking her own drink slowly. Our food is brought out. I take my first bite of lobster and my face screws up in disgust. Jen noticing my face laughs. “Not for you?” she asks. I shake my head no. She offers to order me another meal. But I just don’t fancy eating anymore seafood after trying the lobster. I concentrate on my second drink while I wait for her to finish her meal. I start to feel a bit of pressure in my bladder while I waited. I finish my second drink. Jen asked me if I wanted another. I was starting to feel lightheaded from the wine and lack of food. “I need some water I think” Jen nods and calls a waiter over. “Are you feeling okay” She asks me.
“A little dizzy” I answer honestly. Jen asks the waiter for some water and tells me “I’m nearly finished eating. Have some water now and we will stop of somewhere and get you some food on the way home” I easily agree with this.
I drink my water. I feel myself starting to fidget. The diuretic Jen gave me was starting to kick in. I keep drinking but I was starting to feel the need to pee even more. Jen couldn’t keep her eyes of me. The more fidgety I was the more intently Jen watched. “I finished eating are you ready to go find some food you actually like”. I downed the rest of my water and nod. It crosses my mind to go to the toilet before we leave. But I decide against it. I love the way Jen is watching me and I figured I can hold it.
“Can i get some McDonalds chips” I ask when were both sitting in her car. Again she laughs. A sound I was beginning to love. “I should have just taken you there in the first place”. She starts driving. My desperation was starting to build. I reassure myself with the thought I can use the McDonalds toilet. I feel the pressure building and discreetly place my hand between my legs. Feeling some relief when I see us pulling up to the big yellow sign.
Jen then pulls into the drive through. “Are we not going inside” I ask.
“Its easier just to go through the drive through” I was sure I could see Jen smirking to herself. I was debating asking her if I could go inside to use the toilet. I then felt myself leaking against my hands. With some effort I stopped the leak. “I need the toilet” I confess to her. She turns to look at me. “Just hold it we will be home soon”. With that she puts the car into drive and picks up my chips from the window.
The drive back is hard. At first, I try to distract myself by eating the chips. But then my desperation became to intense. Pain shoots through my stomach and I massage my rock-hard bladder. “Jen I won’t make it”. She reaches over from the steering wheel and briefly strokes my thigh. I hunch over grabbing my crotch again feel warm pee leak into my hands. I look up and see were pulling up outside Jen’s apartment. She comes to a stop. “Just a 2-minute walk and you will be at a toilet” She tells me. “I didn’t think you would make it”.
“I can’t stand” I let her know. I sit in her car feeling hopeless knowing the second I move my bladder is going to empty itself all over the floor of her car. She reaches her hand up my thigh and pulls my panties aside. I feel shame that she has just touched my pee-soaked panties. I then feel her finger slide apart my labia and start massaging me. I leak again against her fingers. I start crying. “It’s okay” She reassures me. Her finger pressing against my urethra helping me stop the leak. She then moved upwards and started massaging my clit. My body automatically relaxed, and pee started flooding out of me against her hand. Her hand continued massaging me while I peed, and I felt another type of pressure building. I was reaching orgasm. My body went stiff and pleasure travelled through me then shaking and wet I fell against her and reached my climax.
Edited April 18, 2020 by Lesbianomogirl
format
(see edit history) |
Sorry it has taken me a while to write part 4. Here it is 😊
I open my eyes turning my head away as the sun shines in through the window and blinds me. I feel the other side of the bed with my hand. Empty. Jen isn't there. I throw my feet out of bed and try to walk with dignity out of the room to where Jen is sitting at her laptop. It is hard with the diaper pressing against my thighs. I feel myself waddling slightly.
I run my fingers over the back of her neck as I approach her. "G'morning poppet" Jen says as she pulls me onto her knee. I feel her fingers slip inside my diaper feeling for any wetness.
"What are you doing" I ask her. She grins.
"Booking you a surprise" She replies. That is not what I meant. I was asking what she was doing with her fingers and she knew it. But I was intrigued.
"What surprise" I inquire. I feel Jen fidget underneath me. "Are you going to tell me" I demand.
"We need to pack were leaving in a hour" She says guiding me back into the bedroom.
Jen lifts the suitcase onto the bed and starts packing. A few dresses for myself and her normal shirt and jeans. I figured from that we were going away for a few days. I noticed she packed extra underwear for me and blushed lightly. She wasn't finished though next in the suitcase went a supply of diapers, wipes and cream. I started to raise my voice to protest. She glanced towards me with that look of hers. I fell back in silence. Then with a feeling of absolute dread I saw Jen slip the diuretic medication I had taken earlier into her pocket.
"Were leaving in 10, do you need a change first? " She asks.
I shake my head no. "Can I just take it off" I plead.
She sighs. "I would prefer we keep you padded. But I can't force you".
I look down in disappointment. She knows I would never say no to that. We both head out to her car. She hands me a bottle of water and starts driving. I mindlessly sip the water wondering where we are going. I start to feel the urge to pee. I ignore it and keep sipping my water. We stay on the same rural road for a long time. I keep watch out of the window smiling whenever I spot any animals.
I see a sign. Airport 15 miles. I know instantly were we are headed. My need to pee gas starts to build up to a near constant pressure. I am uncomfortable but by no means desperate. I glance over at Jen and decide she won't mind if I pee a little bit.
I relax my muscles and feel hot liquid come streaming out of me. It run down my vagina and pools at my bum where my padding absorbs it. Jen looks over and then quickly reaches over and squashes the front of my diaper. "Good thing we kept you padded love. We will be there soon. We can get you changed when we get there" She says.
How did she know! I think. I realise I am sort of looking forward to being changed by Jen. I enjoyed the way she massaged the cream into me last time. I enjoyed how safe it made me feel.
We arrive at the airport. I look over at Jen she looks stressed. "Everything okay Jen" I put my hand on her knee.
"We're a bit late" she admits. We get the suitcase and Jen drags us both into the airport. I feel her pull me in towards her and whisper in my ear "there is spare diapers in your bag. Go to the toilets and get cleaned up. While I check us both in".
I nod my agreement and head towards the toilets. I slip inside a stall and briefly consider doing as Jen asked and changing into a clean diaper. I was to irritated at the situation to do that. If she wants me in a diaper she can put it on me. I leave the toilet stall feeling a thrill of anticipation knowing I was disobeying Jen.
I meet back up with Jen in the departures lounge. "When do we leave" I ask.
"Now" She points out a queue to board a medium size aeroplane. We walk over and join it. It doesn't take us long to get seated in first class. I start to feel my bladder fill up again but I don't worry to much. My need isn't that great. The chairs are comfortable and I start to feel excited. I look over and notice Jen looking nervous. I reach out and grab her hand. "Scared of flying" I ask.
"Its just the take off and landing I struggle with" She replies. I notice her turning even paler as we start moving. I stroke her hand with my thumb to reassure her. Not letting go until the fasten seatbelt signs had been turned off and the colour had returned to Jen's face.
The air hostess came over and offered us both a drink. Jen asked for more water and glass of wine each for us both. I saw Jen bring out the diuretic packet which had caused me so much problems last time and add it to my wine.
I sipped my wine slowly. Not wanting to drink to much when my bladder already felt so full. However the taste was sweet and rich and I found myself draining the glass.
I started thinking about making my way over to the plane toilet. When suddenly the plane lurched forwards. Scared I grabbed Jen's hand. I felt the plane jump again. I looked up and saw the fasten seatbelt sign had been turned on.
I felt pee leaking out against my clothes. I realised I was wetting myself out of fear and clamped down my muscles and stopped the flow. The announcement turned on. "We are experiencing some turbulence. Please stay seated". I grip Jen's hand tighter and look at her she looks as scared as I feel. The plane lurches up and down for a few seconds. Then rights itself. We fly steady with no more problems for a few more minutes.
I look down and realise I had wet myself during the ordeal. The seat is soaked, my clothes are soaked. There is no hiding it. I reach down and feel the wetness. I then hear the fasten seatbelt sign being turned off.
Jen looked over at my hand when I touched the wetness. I feel her reach over herself. I realise she isn't reaching to feel the wetness she is feeling to see if I am still wearing a diaper. Her hands reach cold, wet, bare skin. I nervously look her in the eye. She looks angry. |
I tag my stories thoroughly, sue me.
Lana is an OC (or i guess FC since she's a Mareep?) of mine, and her reference can be found on my Furaffinity in my profile. Which is very NSFW.
She is also over 18, specifically 19.
Enjoy.
----------
It had been a long day for Lana.
Forgetting to set her alarm clock in the morning (admittedly not a very uncommon) and having to rush out the
door to not be too late for class would normally not be a huge deal. Having a pretty time-crunched day of
classes, also not normally a huge deal; it happened twice a week, after all. Having your dance shift at work
happening basically as soon as you got out of class, also not a huge deal.
All of that happening at once on the same day? A huge deal.
Lana rushed into the building, still carrying all of her school bags since heading home could have made her
late, and even now she was barely on time. One of the club managers approached her, a thirty-something Emolga
lady that Lana was actually quite fond of, even if she was a little out there sometimes.
"Oh, Lana, you're just in time! You look a little frantic, is something wrong?"
"Uh... a little awkward to say, but I've really gotta piss."
"But your show's on in a couple minutes! C'mon, you'll be fine, get yourself dressed."
"But-"
"Hurry! If you're late the customers won't be happy, and then we'll both not be happy!"
Lana grimaced, shifting on her feet and squeezing her crotch. She knew her manager didn't mean poorly, and she
did have a point, but still... that woman could be awful stubborn about these things, and Lana could tell it'd
just be better to get her dance over with and hope for the best rather than argue and be late. Thus, she made
her way backstage to lock away her street clothes and bags, leaving herself half-naked in her favorite green
bra and panties. A lot of people commented that it looked nice on her blue skin and yellow wool, but right now
all Lana could think about is if they'd say the same if something else yellow stained them.
Lana looked at the clock behind her and sighed. Nope, no time to take a quick leak, she had to get onstage
now. At least her first routine for today was a solo one; worst case scenario, wetting herself would be worse
with a partner next to her than without one. Shaking the thought out of her mind, she stepped up onto the
stage, and as if nothing was amiss, began to dance.
For all the desperation leading up to the performance, she was able to hide it rather well once it started.
Granted, her initial movements were slow and teasing; none of the high-energy moves she was known for came in
until the second half when she had taken off her bra already. A perceptive watcher could notice her leg
muscles twitching a little, but nobody was that perceptive while they were watching a barely-clothed Mareep
girl dance around a pole.
A little past five minutes into her shift, though, Lana felt her first big wave of desperation. She closed her
eyes and clenched her hand into her crotch, earning her an odd look from a couple of audience members.
However, she did her best to play it off as a move to tease, and slowly moved her hand away again, luckily
still dry. Internally, though, her alarms were in full alert: she was pretty close to decidedly not still
being dry, after all, and her confidence in making it through the show was starting to wane.
Now a third of the way through her show, and Lana was sweating. She made sure to keep one of her hands close
to her crotch as much as she could, just in case, but it was time to take off the bra: a bit of a risky move.
Slowly, both hands raised up and behind her, preparing to undo the clasp of her bra. Just as the fabric began
to fall away from her chest, another strong wave of desperation crashed over her. She gasped and her hands
dove downward to fight the wave, but it was just a bit too late. Lana tried her best not to openly grimace on
stage, but her panties had a wet spot on them now, and she obviously didn't have anything on her to hide it
with. She tried playing it off, touching herself a little and softly moaning, suggesting to the audience it
might be another, hotter fluid, but a couple of souls in the audience didn't exactly look convinced. Even
further unusual, the sudden shock had caused her to drop her bra, instead of throw it for some lucky audience
member to catch like she usually would.
With her tits out, the situation was both less and more dire. She didn't have to pay as much attention to her
breasts, as the sight of them bouncing, swaying, and jiggling would distract some, and she could keep her
hands closer to her nethers. However, the more extravagant moves would be expected of her, requiring quick and
sudden movements that her bladder might not be able to take. It wouldn't just take a very quick eye to see the
wet spot on her underwear, especially since it seemed to be slowly growing as the minutes passed. Each short
leak was met with dread from Lana; her dance was half over, but her floodgates were far past half broken.
Keeping silent and feigning that everything was fine was working fine to fool the crowd, but that was very
quick to change. Lana could feel her bladder muscles quivering with exhaustion, and slowly she realized that
she wasn't going to make it through these last ten minutes dry. The leaks were becoming more erratic and
slightly longer, and her urine was starting to drip onto the stage. Whispers were spreading through the crowd,
and while a few of them seemed more into it now then they were before, a few people in contrast left the
stands, thinking this was some planned fetish thing they weren't informed of. Lana would have loved for that
to be the case, because then the embarrassment of what was imminent might sting a bit less. Maybe she could
play it off like that afterwards, but not to her manager...
One final challenge waited for Lana, one that she both didn't want to reach and wanted to get over with:
taking off her panties. It required stopping her motion and going slow and sensual, and she already knew that
would be the last straw. Still, she had to do it, and her movements around the pole slowed down. Facing away
from the crowd, showing them her ass, she slowly began to peel off her wet, dripping panties with one hand,
using the other to tantalizingly cover her privates, and try to keep a few last moments of control.
It didn't work.
As soon as the open air touched Lana's pussy, and the first warm spurt hit Lana's hands unimpeded by fabric,
she knew it was over. Her dam burst open, and the hot piss that she was only barely still able to hold onto
finally released with force. Instinctively, she gripped her crotch tightly, pleading for just a few more
minutes of tenuous control so she could get to a backstage bathroom with only moderate shame. No luck, and all
she succeeded in was getting her hands soaked with pee. Slowly and shakily, she turned back towards the crowd,
still peeing, and moved her hands away, showing them her fully exposed body despite the conditions.
Despite the humiliation, Lana couldn't ignore how pleasurable it was to finally get some relief after hours of
holding it all day. Wetting herself in front of all these people, all of whom were too stunned or too aroused
to take their eyes away... there was an undeniable hotness in her loins from that. Her face was flushed red
from both embarrassment and arousal now, and a way to save this dawned on her. Once again, her hands slid
between her legs. Not to make a futile attempt to stop the flow this time, but to pleasure herself.
Almost as soon as the flow of piss stopped and the puddle began to settle on the stage, Lana reached her
climax, moaning in pleasure (not something patrons were unfamiliar with) and adding a clearer, stickier fluid
to the pool beneath her feet. Both her bra and panties were soaked with urine from sitting near her when she
wet herself, but Lana wasn't about to let some detail like that get in the way of tradition. She picked up
both of the dripping articles and, making sure to aim at the people who definitely looked like they were into
it rather than just shocked, threw them out into the crowd for her new fans. Then, acting like nothing unusual
had happened, she walked offstage.
Backstage, her manager immediately ran to her, carrying a towel and a frantic expression.
"Lana! Why didn't you say it was that bad? I'm so sorry, I should've just-"
"It's, um... fine." Lana took the towel and started wiping her wet legs dry.
"Oh, that's a relief then!" Her manager's expression switched to a smile again. "Maybe it's crass to say this
now, but... you've already got a few people from that audience wanting a private room. Should I tell them no,
or..."
Lana laughed at this. "Tell them I'll think about it."
Edited April 13, 2020 by FarfLord
(see edit history) |
A/N: Hello, omo-minded people!
I'm starting to write a NaruMitsu story about paruresis. Thrilling stuff, I know. It's probably mostly for me, what with the potential for examining psychology AND the omo aspect. Yep. Posted on AO3 as well, as per usual.
Please let me know what you think, and, particularly, if you'd be interested in where this is going! Here, have a warning that's almost entirely equal-but-opposite to the warning I give on AO3:
WARNING: The first chapter contains pretty much no omorashi. Just the suggestion of it.
Chapter 1: The Problem
Phoenix didn’t mind the movement, at first.
He enjoyed it, actually. It was soothing. A kind of soft, repetitive rocking that accompanied his surroundings perfectly. He lay on some kind of pier jutting out into an expansive ocean, surrounded by the warmth and light of a blazingly red sunset, gazing out into the sparkling water. His head was slowly swaying along to the tune of some spritely, far-off song, and he was wonderfully content.
But the motion didn’t remain gentle. As Phoenix bathed happily in the glow and the music, what was once rocking transfigured incrementally into something altogether more insistent: A shuddering, first, then an all-out shaking that jarred his head and his entire upper body. An earthquake?
“An earthquake?!” Phoenix gasped, and sat up abruptly. The shaking didn’t stop even as he lifted himself up on his arms, and looked into the face of the man sitting beside him: Miles Edgeworth, looking pale and drawn even in the crimson light of a looping DVD menu, arms crossed and finger tapping and gaze fixed somewhere against the opposite wall. “Miles... are you okay? Do you need me to—?”
“Phoenix.”
“What?!” He touched a hand instinctively to Miles’ shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“There’s no earthquake.”
“Wha—?” The shaking had stopped as soon as he’d spoken, and Phoenix looked around at last: He’d been leaning on Miles’ right leg—dozing there, actually—and found himself still propped up on it with a hand pressed into his thigh. “Oh. Heh. Yeah.” His ears prickled a bit as he pushed himself away and back into his own cushion on the sofa, and the night’s events began to filter back to him: Dinner together. A glass or two of Lambrusco. The decision to take in a movie before parting for the evening, and the slight blurring at the edge of his vision as a huge silhouette stomped towards a screaming cityscape….
“Sorry about that,” Phoenix said, grazing sheepish fingers against the nape of his neck. “I guess Moozilla III didn’t really grab me the way I thought it would. I mean, I’m sure John Marsh is still great and all, but... what did you think?”
“Yes.”
Now, Phoenix was used to a certain level of terseness. One had to be, when dealing with L.A.’s finest Chief Prosecutor. It was always a toss-up with him: No matter what the subject—unless it related directly to the law or the Steel Samurai franchise—Phoenix could never be sure if he should prepare himself for an hour-long speech or a single word. But he could generally rely on having his questions answered with some amount of relevance, no matter how curt the response.
“‘Yes’... what?” Phoenix prompted. The DVD’s menu music played through another half-loop or so before he was granted another non sequitur of a reply.
“Well, it’s evident that you’re awake.” Miles still hadn’t managed to turn to look at Phoenix, though his leg had taken up its bouncing again.
“Oh? What tipped you off?” Phoenix resisted probing further or adding a biting remark to the question. It was too late, and he was too groggy. So groggy, in fact, that the warm presence by his side and the low music from the DVD threatened to lull him back to a comfortable sleep curled into the sofa. Only a particular baritone voice could possibly have roused him from his slow slide into slumber. And it did.
“It’s about time you left, don’t you think?”
Phoenix instantly regretted the noble decision to keep from scoring off his boyfriend, a man who clearly deserved to be scored off of. A hundred times or more. Peeling open his tired eyes, Phoenix fixed Miles with a wide, doe-ish gaze that the man still couldn’t be bothered to meet.
“But Miiilees,” he whined. Phoenix normally preferred to reserve whining for truly dire situations—or at least after he’d presented some salient point in his defense— but this situation was rapidly approaching direness. Sleep tugged at his eyelids more insistently by the moment. He tugged insistently at Miles’ burgundy shirtsleeve. “It’s so late....”
“It’s just after midnight,” Miles supplied brusquely. Phoenix groaned.
“Right! Like I said....” His arms—of their own accord, naturally; he would never have consciously resorted to this kind of coercion—reached out and wrapped themselves around the slightly shaky shoulders beside him. “So late. Don’t you think I could stay over? Just for tonight? You don’t want to have to drive me back at this hour, do you?”
At last, some evidence of life flickered behind Miles’ glasses. He didn’t look at Phoenix, precisely, but he turned his eyes in his direction, and he didn’t offer up a throwaway response. After a few moments of apparent debate on his part and surreptitious snuggling on Phoenix’s, he spoke again.
“I’m afraid it’s not possible,” he said, with a note of finality that made Phoenix sigh and loosen his limpet-like grasp. “There’s much I have to be doing tomorrow. I must be reviewing some things prior to the morning trials... and I don’t want the trouble of working out your morning schedule as well as my own.”
“I could just leave when you do.”
Miles raised an incredulous eyebrow. “At six A.M.? Perhaps earlier?”
“Ugh. Never mind. But... well....” Phoenix wracked his weary brain for another solution. “Couldn’t I just leave later? Or don’t you think I could manage leaving your precious stuff alone and locking the door behind me?”
“It’s... not that... but....”
Just like that, Miles’ head turned obstinately back towards the television. The arms were still crossed, the leg was still restless, and the finger was still rapping silently on the bicep. All of this combined with a notable silence proved one thing: This was a Miles Edgeworth in an advanced state of distress. But why?
“Hey, come on, Miles. It’s really no big deal. I’ll just sleep on the couch. I was kind of headed that way before your leg woke me up, anyway,” Phoenix laughed. “I promise I won’t invade your personal space anymore. Guess I’ve done that enough tonight, haven’t I?”
“Mmm.”
Phoenix sat up a little straighter and leaned over to look into Miles’ face. He refused to meet his eyes again. With another sigh, Phoenix stood, turned on the lights, turned off the DVD player and the TV, and turned back around to face his boyfriend. No change at all.
“Okay,” he began, with about as much frustration as he could shove into two syllables, “what is it? What’s wrong? Did I do something? I already said I’m sorry for falling asleep on you.” Miles hastened to reply.
“N-no! No... you didn’t do anything,” he countered, yet, unbelievably, he still didn’t look into Phoenix’s face.
“If you’re really not mad at me, why do I have to go? It’s late, we’re both tired, and I already told you I’d take the couch.”
This time, complete silence was his answer; he didn’t even have the maddening menu music to accompany him anymore. Not to be daunted, Phoenix let out an exasperated noise and took to his knees to force himself into Miles’ line of sight. The man blinked as if astounded, gazing brightly behind pristine polycarbonate lenses.
Then he turned away again.
“Miles!” What an absolute ass he could be! Phoenix would have liked to have moved a bit closer, maybe pulled his boyfriend’s fantastic face back towards him, but he couldn’t. Touching him seemed to have been what got Phoenix into this mess in the first place, after all. “Come on... I know something’s bothering you. If it’s not me, what is it?”
“It’s really nothing,” Miles insisted, off into the space that Phoenix had left on the couch. Moving to cross one of his impossibly long legs over the other, he nearly clipped Phoenix on the nose. “I’m not... ‘bothered’... I just want you to go. That’s all.”
Although he hadn’t brought any magatamas with him—he’d found that they were really better kept out of his personal life—Phoenix could swear that he heard the lock and chain wrap themselves around Miles’ words.
“‘That’s all’? C’mon, I thought we’d left that kind of thing behind us a long time ago,” Phoenix groused. He softened his tone as he went on, however. “Haven’t we talked about this? ‘Communication’ and all? No more hiding behind vagueness and dismissals?” He shifted his hips so he could sit on the floor; the position left him closer to his boyfriend’s knee than his face. “Something is bothering you. You can, and you should, tell me about it. Aren’t we—what’s the word you like so much?—‘partners?’”
Miles had put his hand over his mouth; the gesture inadvertently revealed just how red his face had become during Phoenix’s little lecture. At last, after far too many low clicks of the mantel clock, he turned his head back around to face Phoenix. His eyes were weighted on the floor now, but at least he appeared to be talking to him.
“It’s... embarrassing,” he intoned quietly. Phoenix made a dismissive gesture.
“Don’t even worry about it.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“I won’t! When have I ever laughed at you? Well, when you were really down, anyway.”
Another long pause—longer than the first—reigned before Miles seemed to reach a point of decision and words came pouring from his mouth.
“I can’t... use... the facilities when I have company,” he said, quickly and tremulously. “Not when anyone else is around. I can’t. So I need you to leave. Now, if you could. It's been... some time... and I would very much like for you to go.”
As Miles pulled off his glasses and buried his face in one of his hands, Phoenix had to stop to consider the insanity his partner had just proposed to him. He’d been prepared for a lot of the things he’d imagined. Hell, he’d wanted some of the things he’d imagined (mostly the scenarios involving a Miles who broke down and finally admitted that he lusted for Phoenix just as much as Phoenix lusted for him.) But this? This was just... strange.
“Umm, Miles,” Phoenix began, gingerly, “I don’t have to ‘leave’ for that.” Miles said nothing, only pressed his hand harder against his flaming face, so Phoenix continued: “I’m not going to follow you into the bathroom. Just turn on the tap or something if you’re so worried.”
“Th-that’s—! It doesn’t...work that way,” Miles said, and stood abruptly, and took to pacing the small space between Phoenix, the coffee table, and the couch. Phoenix stood in reply, and furrowed his brow at his boyfriend’s absolutely unnecessary display of consternation.
“Look, this is me we’re talking about. Just me. Alone with you. I’ll do whatever you want—wait in the kitchen, in the hall, whatever—just don’t make me leave.” At last, Phoenix stepped forward and touched his companion on the shoulder; Miles stopped short and jumped about a foot. “Please.”
Miles proceeded to look at Phoenix, then back at the sofa, then back to the floor at Phoenix’s feet. Phoenix watched him closely. Just as he suspected, his boyfriend closed his eyes, and a finger came to rest on his temple, the sure sign that Miles was racing through a list of logical possibilities in his head. His brain had to have been running at about a hundred miles per hour—and for what? Divining the same procedure any three-year-old would’ve gladly enlightened him on?
“No. I’d really rather not discuss this any further,” Miles nearly whispered. He’d begun rocking his whole body backwards and forwards, from his toes to his heels; it might’ve been cute if everything else Miles did that night hadn’t been so damned infuriating. “I just... can’t. That’s all there is to it.”
“What are you saying? Miles,” Phoenix returned with the barest of chuckles, “I mean, you must be able to—how would you spend the whole day away at work and court if you ‘couldn’t’? How would you take all those trips abroad? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
That seemed to have done it.
Phoenix would never be sure if it had been the words themselves or the little laugh that accompanied them, but something in what he said sparked the sort of righteous fury in Miles that he never really liked to see. Not as his opposing counsel, and certainly not as his boyfriend. All of a sudden Phoenix was being rounded upon by a seething, red-and-white-faced man with a furrowed brow and a hissing voice.
“It doesn’t, does it? Well, I hope that this makes sense enough for you.” As he spoke, Miles fumbled for his wallet, extracted a few bills, and pressed them into Phoenix’s hands. “Your ride home. Good-bye, Phoenix.”
Thankfully, it was warm enough that he hadn’t needed a jacket, and he’d left his shoes in the hallway—otherwise it would have been a bit of an inconvenience for Phoenix to find himself pushed bodily from Miles’ apartment and left by himself outside the door. As it was, he was simply discombobulated and a little hurt.
“I said I’d wait out here! You don’t have to—” The lock clicked insultingly behind him. “Fine! Do whatever you want, I guess!”
He’d wanted to throw out some bitingly cynical observation about the stupidity of this fight. It would’ve served Miles right. But he ended up being much too distracted by the bills he’d had thrust upon him instead.
“Wow,” Phoenix muttered to himself. Eighty dollars?! He would’ve whistled, but such feats were beyond him. It seemed that Miles really had gone insane, or he was just so disillusioned by his own wealth that he had no idea what anything cost anymore. It was difficult to tell.
With nothing more to do and no more to say that didn’t sound all wrong in his head, Phoenix made his way to the complex’s elevator. It—what was “bothering” Miles, his so-called “inability”—really didn’t make a bit of sense, but Phoenix wasn’t going to find the logic in it that night. He’d been too tired for mysteries for hours, and, besides, he didn’t know if he’d have been able to work it out even at the height of his mental abilities. In the end, he had to settle for calling a cab and unwillingly wondering things he’d never imagined he’d have to wonder about his boyfriend’s bathroom habits as he waited at the curb. |
Chapter 2a: Parfait d'Amour
It didn’t take long for Phoenix or Miles to climb down from their respective high towers and attempt to make amends. When Phoenix checked his phone the morning after, he found that he’d already received several short texts:
Wright—
I hope this missive finds you well.
I apologize for the events of last night.
We needn’t discuss them any further.
Enjoy your day.
-Miles Edgeworth
This was a bit of a problem.
Not because his boyfriend would never realize the difference between a text message and a letter to the Attorney General, though that was also something they’d have to discuss. No, it was because, apologetic though the message began, it ended with demanding that Phoenix forget.
He would have liked to have forgotten. He really would have. It was all pretty embarrassing, and, though he was still a little sore about being shoved out of his partner’s apartment that night, he preferred for them to remain on good and clear terms with one another.
But now that seemed impossible. It had been difficult enough trying to wade his way through the intricacies of a relationship with Miles Edgeworth from the start—adding this thing, a thing he would never have imagined could be a problem, transformed the path of their relationship from a long but comprehensible labyrinth into a maze. And Phoenix had already found a dead-end.
He couldn’t allow himself to be trapped by it. What would happen to them in the future if he did? Would they never make it past this mincing half-on half-off period? Would they ever be able to live together if this continued on?
Phoenix picked up his phone and texted rapidly:
thanks 🙂 but i really think we should talk about it
call me when u get the chance?
Phoenix went about getting ready for work with his phone’s volume turned up to full-blast, and heard nothing by the time he left the house. All day he found himself checking, opening his phone again and again to the same stock photo of a palm tree and no notifications. The phone rang once, and he jumped on the call, only to have a cheerful, robotic voice from his local pharmacy informing him that his prescription was ready to be picked up.
By the time the evening rolled around, Phoenix was grousing again. Even Trucy’s latest fire-ring trick couldn’t cheer him like it should have. So, after the fire department had cleared off, he gave up and went to bed early.
Just as he was drifting to sleep, Phoenix’s phone gave a deafening PING and vibrated. Miles, responding at last.
Wright—
Would you care to dine together tomorrow evening?
We can go to Cellini’s. It’s been some time.
-Miles Edgeworth
Damn it.
Phoenix groaned and covered his eyes. So. He was right. Miles really was going to pretend that the “events of last night” had never happened. He would take Phoenix out to dinner and hope that everything would be forgotten over an expensive meal and a few glasses of wine—and he wasn’t wrong to think it was possible.
But Phoenix was determined that he wouldn’t be swayed this time. Their happiness together was at stake! Did Miles really think that they would live apart forever? That he would always be able to run home, alone, whenever he had to use the toilet? Phoenix had said so before, and he would say it again: It didn’t make sense.
Phoenix would go to dinner, of course. But he wouldn’t like it, at least not until he was able to make something of it.
He and Miles arrived at Cellini’s in comfortable style by cab the following evening, where they were seated at once and poured generous glasses of ice water. Miles took up his glass perfectly nonchalantly and drained about half of it as he perused the wine list. Within a few minutes, they were sipping some species of white wine, and Miles was attempting to strike up a conversation.
Phoenix offered up responses and a little commentary here and there, but found that he just couldn’t tear his immediate focus away from all of the... liquid. First the water, which was gone from Miles’ glass by the time the waiter returned for their order, then the wine. Phoenix did his best not to gawk, to subtly observe his boyfriend behind some menu or other as he would’ve behind a hand of cards. The effort was unsettling. When, exactly, had he become a creepy piss-based voyeur?
Miles seemed not to notice. He didn’t say anything, anyway, and his expressions betrayed no suspicion. Not even when Phoenix went to the bathroom about halfway through the night and floundered awkwardly around the once-simple words.
“I’m, uh... I’m... going to the bathroom, I guess,” he stammered. Miles was supremely unaffected. “If... uh... if....”
“Don’t worry, Phoenix. I’ll let the waiter know that you want more bread,” Miles returned with a touch of a smirk. Phoenix allowed his companion to think he knew what he had been going to say and scampered off.
Dinner passed amiably, if anxiously. By the time Phoenix had returned from the bathroom a second time, they’d finished with their salads and entrees, and, by the grace of his second glass of wine, he’d had at last built up the courage to address the problem head-on.
“So, Miles,” he began, “about... um... the other night... I was—”
“No,” Miles interrupted, a low note of sound deep in his throat. “I’ve said already that the subject is closed.”
“But Miles—”
“Now, what would you like for a nightcap? Some brandy, perhaps?”
“I don’t think so, but—”
“Perhaps a cream liqueur?”
“No! Just—come on, we really need to—”
“Sommelier!” Miles commanded, and at once a servile middle-aged man with a permanent bend to his back was grinning at Miles’ elbow. “Two cocktails, if you would. Parfait d’amour and gin. And a suspicion of rosolio, if you’ve any on hand. Shaken well.”
The man replied with a servile phrase and—if possible—a deepening of his bow. Miles worried the stem of his wine glass between his fingers for a silent moment.
“We don’t ‘need’ to discuss anything more,” he answered at last, and finished off his wine; Phoenix found himself watching the motion, rapt. Two glasses of wine, plus the entire glass of water, and a cocktail was coming. “We hadn’t spoken of it before. We never needed to. I don’t see that it bears further examination; it’s barely even a subject.”
“But how do you expect us to get anywhere together if you’re doing—whatever this is?” Phoenix demanded. He’d been quick to ask, but the sommelier (a man Phoenix suspected of being your standard barman, but for whom Miles liked the title) was faster, and he’d already returned to their table with a pair of subtly blue cocktails. Phoenix took his in hand but refused the beginnings of a toast in Miles’ raised glass and parted lips. The man scowled faintly and sipped at his drink.
“I think we can manage it,” Miles grated behind his glass, “if only we stop harping on the minutest details of our existence together. You’ll notice that it barely affects us.”
You think it’s “minute?” You think we’ll “manage” if we have to be totally separated every few hours? Or if we never live together at all? Does that “barely affect us”?
Phoenix tried to distract himself from his thoughts with a tiny taste of his cocktail, which was immediately spit back out into his napkin.
“Oh my God! What’s that supposed to taste like?!” He gasped, and dove for what remained of his water. Miles smirked.
“Violets and roses,” he returned airily, and took another sip of the disgusting concoction. Phoenix gawked—openly this time.
“God... it’s like... drinking your grandmother’s perfume,” Phoenix breathed. “Trust you to find the worst combination imaginable. And probably the gayest.”
Miles’ near-snort into his own cocktail surprised them both, and then they were smiling again. By the end of the evening, comfort had made its way around their table. Dark, warm, smothering comfort that settled in Phoenix’s brain and caught every stray thought in its sticky influence.
How long has it been since he’s been to the bathroom? How many times have I been since we got here? Twice? Is he okay? He seems okay... but it’s been hours....
“Are you ready to go?”
Phoenix focused his eyes. Miles was gazing at him over his small collection of empty glasses.
“Are you?” Phoenix asked sharply.
“Yes, I’ve been for some time,” he said, stood, and offered his hand to Phoenix as he made his way around the table. “I hope you’ve found the evening pleasant.”
He had. And he hadn’t. Frankly, Phoenix considered the date to have been nothing more than a frustrating waste of time. Was this what it was like to live the same fastidious life as Miles: needing to find the answer to something; being physically and mentally unable to rest until it was found?
He didn’t know how he did it. This life was not only very dispiriting—it was exhausting. Every time Phoenix interacted with Miles, it was a new, draining slog. He would wonder, but could never actually address. He would watch him, just as he did over dinner; he would try to listen for changes in his voice when they spoke, in-person or over the phone. He began to try to catch him at inopportune times—just as he left work, unexpectedly over the weekend—but still discovered absolutely nothing. Not the barest inkling that something was amiss, not even at the oddest time and place.
Once a couple of weeks had passed with no tells whatsoever, Phoenix began to wonder if the whole thing wasn’t some kind of bizarre fabrication on Miles’ part. The excuse had worked, after all: It had gotten Phoenix to leave the apartment that night without being insulting to his character. The excuse Miles had chosen was incredibly strange—mortifying, even—but, then, Phoenix couldn’t pretend that he’d ever fully understood everything Miles did and said.
There was nothing else for it, Phoenix decided. He’d have to test the matter.
Chapter 2b: The Plan
Later, years later, when Phoenix was reminded of this plan, he could only shove it to the back of his mind and hope that nothing ever prompted him to open that particular memory box again. But when the plan had first occurred to him, he’d considered it a stroke of genius.
Two Sundays after That Night, as Phoenix had come to think of it, he invited Miles out to the movies. A Hitchcock festival was going on at the local cinema, and he knew that his partner would agree to go. Miles Edgeworth never could say no to an afternoon of pretension.
It was a bright, hot day outside, and a relief to step into the biting breeze of the cinema’s air conditioner. Phoenix had just about worked out the last detail of his plan; as soon as their tickets were torn, he took Miles’ hand and led him over to the concession stand.
“I suppose I’m buying,” Miles grumbled. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement.
“Thanks, Miles,” Phoenix crooned in return, and began perusing the menu. “Let’s see... we’ll have a large popcorn, and a box of caramels, and a large grape soda, and... what do you want?”
Miles considered for a moment. “An unsweetened iced tea, please.”
“Miles!” Phoenix cried, offended by his partner’s unmitigated drabness.
“What size iced tea?” The cashier asked listlessly.
“A sm—”
“Large, please,” Phoenix cut in. He smiled at Miles’ scowl. “What? You won’t get your money’s worth with a small. At least get the large so you can take the refill home.”
Miles sighed, but didn’t resist. Laden with snacks, they made their way into the mostly-empty theatre and took seats in the very back just as the previews were beginning.
The film—“Psycho,” as it turned out—opened uncomfortably. After a just a few seconds of black-and-white voyeurism, Phoenix had to avert his eyes. He looked towards his boyfriend instead, whose face was highlighted by the silvery light of the screen; smiling, he laced their fingers together. Miles allowed it, but didn’t look at him. He didn’t look at Phoenix for the entirety of the showing, as a matter of fact. When Phoenix tried to comment, he shushed him; when Phoenix jumped and cried out during the notorious shower stabbing, he did no more than smirk a little and take a sip of his tea.
Post-first killing, Phoenix found himself more susceptible to distraction. Not to say that the rest of the film wasn’t interesting—it featured more of the strikingly handsome leading man, after all—but Phoenix had been reminded of his intended focus.
It was still an awkward focus, even after the last couple of weeks spent watching. Phoenix longed to return to playing the cinematic voyeur instead, but the movie didn’t allow it. So, he was back to subtly staring at Miles, watching his every move and every taste of his shockingly boring choice of beverage. Fortunately for him, Phoenix was released from his creepy bonds when Miles decided to rattle the ice at the bottom of his empty cup, and Phoenix could at last return to concentrating on the movie.
“Well, that was... something,” he pronounced when the lights came up.
“Indeed,” Miles replied. He hadn’t moved to stand, but instead looked absently towards the black screen as he toyed with the straw on his drink. “One forgets about Hitchcock’s mastery of visual storytelling after awhile away.”
“Uh-huh... but... what was with Bates’ voice-over?”
“Excuse me?” Phoenix scratched his neck in response to the sudden scrutiny.
“Well, I mean... you know... the woman’s voice. It seemed a little weird.” Miles raised his eyebrows all the way into his long, silvery bangs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Hitchcock’s still a genius and all, but, I mean—”
“Weren’t you paying any attention to the last few scenes?” Phoenix let go a kind of half-laugh.
“I... well, not really. I got... distracted. The—uh—drinks and all,” he admitted. Miles graced him with a smile and stood. Phoenix paused for a second; his heart may or may not have stopped in that time. “I’m going to the bathroom!”
“Fine. I’m going to see about more tea,” Miles replied, and moved off in the direction of the concession stand. A few minutes later, feeling significantly more composed, Phoenix met him there, unable to keep a knowing smile off his face.
“So... are you ready?” He asked. Miles nodded in reply.
“Yes. Shall I drop you off at your home on the way, or is there somewhere else you’d like to go?” He inquired mildly, and reached for his keys in the pocket of his slacks. Phoenix’s voice fluttered a little as he suppressed a giggle.
“Oh, Miles... I meant for the next movie! Double-feature, remember?” Phoenix waggled his ticket stub. The stub did, in fact, list two movies. Phoenix had insisted upon buying the tickets, and it was a stroke of pure luck for him that Miles hadn’t looked at his—this plan hinged pretty heavily on his boyfriend’s ignorance. “The next one’s starting in a couple minutes. Don’t want to miss the previews, do we? Course, they might be the same as last time... it being an older movie and all.... Hey, are you even listening to me?”
It was difficult to tell. Miles’ gaze had shifted slightly while Phoenix was talking to him, and it fell somewhere on the wall behind him instead of on his face. Phoenix sighed and took Miles’ hand to lead him back into the theatre; he found it rather clammy.
“Come on,” Phoenix prodded. “Let’s get back in. They’re showing—what’s it called?—‘Infamous’?”
“Yes... I think that’s it,” Miles replied distantly.
“Yeah, that one. The one with the Invisible Man or whatever. Come on—it’s just about to start!” With another tug at his hand, Miles at last allowed Phoenix to pull him back into the dimmed theatre.
Honestly, Phoenix wondered why they’d saved this movie for last. “Notorious” (the title card corrected him) wasn’t exactly the same thrill that “Psycho” had been. It was all political intrigue and vaguely attractive people becoming vaguely irritating lovers. There as something about riding clubs, men with two first names and tailing Nazis to Brazil. It was hard to follow, but Phoenix tried. The first stage of his plan was finished except for the waiting, after all—might as well watch the film he’d shelled out for.
Phoenix had just about worked out what was going on by the time the leading lady was revealing the villain’s intentions to marry her. The leading man stormed out at this, grumbling about “women who never changed.”
Miles chose that moment to storm out, as well; Phoenix wouldn’t have noticed but for the fact that Miles’ hand suddenly tore away from his, leaving it horribly cold and moist. Phoenix followed briskly behind him.
“What is it?” Phoenix asked Miles as soon as he caught up with him. He’d found him pacing furiously outside the theatre door. “You could’ve told me you were going to—”
“We have to go. Are you ready?” Miles cut across him. He already had his keys in his free hand, and had managed to stop his pacing to fix Phoenix with an almost-steady gaze. The tone of this conversation was awfully familiar....
“No, I’m not. The movie’s not over yet,” Phoenix replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but I’d really like to see it through to the end.” Miles raked a hand through his hair and started his pacing again. The other seemed to be chained inside his trouser pocket. “Why exactly do we ‘have to go’?”
Silence. Silence and quick, long steps. Phoenix wasn’t about to put up with it this time. It wasn’t as though Miles could throw him out of the cinema. Phoenix took a few steps of his own and intercepted his boyfriend just as he began to make a turn; Miles made a strangled little noise and covered his mouth.
“Are you going to tell me?” Phoenix asked quietly, and lightly grasped Miles’ arm. Miles allowed a long, silent space to fall between them before he forced out some words.
“I-it’s... I... it’s... the same,” he muttered from behind his hand. “Please, just... let’s just go. I— I’ll....”
Okay, so maybe Miles hadn’t been lying about this being a problem. But when would they begin to solve it, if not now? The solution was right in front of them.
“Come on,” Phoenix sighed, exasperated, and tugged lightly at the front of Miles’ sweater-vest. “The bathroom’s right—”
“D-don’t! Don’t....” He resisted. Miles’ breaths were coming deep and fast, and the hand with his keys pressed alternately at his mouth and his crimson forehead.
“What’re you going to do, exactly?” Phoenix leaned close and dropped his voice to a whisper. “What? You’d prefer to wet yourself than go in there?”
Miles didn’t respond; he only shook his head unevenly.
“Well, then,” Phoenix reasoned, “you can go to the bathroom, and I’ll—”
“I can’t!” Miles cried abruptly. He shook his head again, wildly this time, and Phoenix was forced to let go of him as he bent at the waist and wheezed loudly against his hand. People were beginning to stare. “I can’t, I can’t, I can not....”
Phoenix was stunned into inaction by Miles’ near-childish display for a few seconds. He could do nothing but join the starers, at least until an explanation bubbled to the surface of his thoughts.
“L-look, I didn’t mean for it to go this far, okay?” He whispered, and tried putting himself between his partner and the gawkers by the concessions. “I just... wasn’t sure if you were being honest with me about this stuff. You weren’t telling me anything, and... I just wanted to help!” He stopped, and chanced putting a hand on Miles’ shaking shoulder. “But I see, now... we can leave....”
Several moments and many unsteady breaths passed before Miles managed a response.
“‘It’?” He gasped, “‘It’? What is ‘it’?”
“...What?”
“What is ‘it’? What you... ‘didn’t mean to go this far’?” Thankfully, the panic seemed to be filtering out of his voice; instead, it was rapidly being replaced by a sort of furious hissing. Phoenix took a quick step back.
“Oh, I... uh... this, you know... the movies,” he replied, on a ghost of a laugh. “It seemed like a good time to find out... test this... thing... with the, uh, double-feature and all....”
“Oh... my God....” Miles began backing away, still crouched over; Phoenix followed him closely.
“Come on, Miles, we can go now,” Phoenix said, and tried a smile. Miles had made it to the side door and reached out, backwards, to press the bar with his free hand. “It’s really all—”
“Don’t you dare speak to me any more, Phoenix Wright!” Miles cried, and dashed out the double-doors. Before Phoenix could think of a response, Miles had made his way across the parking lot through the scorching afternoon sun.
“Miles, just—wait—!” Phoenix called after him out the door. But he was too late. Miles’ cherry red sports car was already racing out towards the road, leaving him behind with the group of chattering onlookers.
Edited May 6, 2020 by HoneyBeam521
(see edit history) |
Thank you so much!! I'm about to post a couple more chapters that have already/are about to make it to AO3. I've been delaying the omorashi content too much because of my desire to go off on an emotional tangent-- but I think, finally, chapter seven should have some omorashi stuff! Hope you continue to like it!
A/N: Sorry about any chapter number confusion. And the fact that this has been posted to AO3 for some time if you're looking for new content. But I think I'll post my next new chapter here first, and then, after that one, I think I MAY ACTUALLY have cause to insert more omo content....
Chapter IV: The Pall
How did this happen?
Phoenix wondered miserably as he cleaned the toilet.
We were doing so well together!
He scraped the brush violently along the underside of the rim.
We’d talked about so much!
He squirted some more pungent blue fluid around the bowl and began scrubbing hard.
We’d never had any issues before... well, maybe a few disagreements here and there... but now....
Phoenix barely registered his fleet-footed juniors sneaking into the doorway. He was much too concerned with eradicating what was clearly a permanent stain.
“Uh... Mr. Wright?” Apollo began tentatively, “Are you okay?”
“Just fine, thanks,” Phoenix grumbled in return, and hit the stain all the harder. He could hear Athena’s gloved hand clenching into a fist somewhere behind him.
“Oh, come on, Boss. We’re not idiots. We can tell when you’re not filled with the old joie du vivre,” she insisted. “I mean... have you seen your office recently?”
“Yeah, of course I have!” Phoenix replied at once. “And I know for a fact that it looks great right now!”
“See, that’s my point,” Athena continued, took a few more steps into the room, and closed the toilet lid on her employer. He dropped his brush and frowned up into her too-concerned face. “It never ‘looks great.’ And you’ve cleaned the toilet, what—four times this week?”
“Only three,” Phoenix mumbled under his breath.
“Well, I think we all know that there’s something going on with you,” she said firmly. “I mean... even Apollo noticed it.”
“Hey!”
“I’m sorry, guys... it’s not something I really think we should be talking about,” Phoenix sighed, stood, and reluctantly began peeling the rubber gloves off his hands. “It’s kind of... personal.”
Athena put her hands on her hips. “It’s about Mr. Edgeworth, isn’t it?”
“Athena—!” Apollo hissed. Phoenix had much the same reaction, only his next instinct was to take a large step backward. Luckily the closed toilet lid meant that they didn’t have to spend the rest of the afternoon unjamming Phoenix’s foot from said toilet.
“Athena,” Phoenix said again, a little more calmly, “there’s nothing wrong with me and Mr. Edgeworth. You don’t have to worry.”
Apollo’s hand shot to his wrist, and the thing around Athena’s neck flared a bright crimson. Naturally, Athena was the first to speak again, and, naturally, Apollo had to make a valiant effort at reining her in.
“We do have to worry, Boss! You’ve been neglecting your cases in favor of all this—” She waved her free arm vaguely around the bathroom. “Why? Because of all the clients we’ve got pouring in? Come on, Mr. Wright. There’s something wrong with you two. I know. You’ve been moping for—how long? Days? And I haven’t heard Mr. Edgeworth call your cell once in all that time.”
“How did you—?!” Phoenix gasped. “N-never mind. Okay, so I guess we haven’t been... talking... for a little while... but it’s really no problem.”
“Mr. Wright,” Apollo said lowly, and fixed Phoenix with a piercing brown gaze. It only took a few seconds of locked eyes for Phoenix to fold and throw his arms up in the air in exasperation.
“Okay, so it is a problem! But it’s nothing that I can’t manage by myself, so why don’t you guys just get back to your own work if you’re so worried about the Agency?” He shot, picked up his bucket of cleaning supplies, and pushed past them through the cluttered entryway and into his office. The place had been transfigured in the past seventy hours or so into a pristine haven of shiny surfaces and the faint scent of lemon cleaning solution.
“We just want to help,” Athena said as she trotted along after him, with Apollo a step or two behind her. Phoenix frowned again, this time at his own reflection sulking eerily in the surface of his desk. “After all... this office doesn’t run the same without us all in tip-top shape.” She grinned, and glanced over her shoulder at her senior associate. “Isn’t that right, Apollo?”
“Oh! Um... yeah,” he agreed, rubbing a recently-elbowed bicep. “If we can do anything, we’d be glad to.”
Phoenix sighed and turned his eyes up to the ceiling instead. He’d missed some cobwebs in the corners.
“It’s just... I thought things were going great between me and Edgeworth,” he muttered upwards. “Then this... thing... got in the way....”
“What was it?” Athena gasped. She watched her employer quietly for an entire moment before waving her hands animatedly in his face. “Wait—don’t tell me! There was a B.O.C.!”
“A what?” Apollo and Phoenix said in unison. Athena furrowed her brow between them.
“A Breach of Confidentiality, of course! Come on, guys, how long has it been since you went to school?” Athena shook her head and continued, “Anyway... I always wondered if that might not happen when you and Mr. Edgeworth started seeing each other. You know so many dark secrets as a criminal lawyer. I knew it could only be so long before you let something slip in a moment of passion and ended up ruining something big—”
“Athena!” Phoenix cut in. “Two things: One, you clearly spend too much time imagining your employer’s love life. Two, it’s not that.” He sighed. “It’s a lot worse than that.”
“What is it, then?” Athena tried again softly. “Like I said: We just want to know what it is.... To help.”
“So do I,” Phoenix muttered, and stood. He took a few steps behind his desk, then turned back to his juniors. Athena was looking as bright-eyed and intense as ever; Apollo, distinctly discomfited. “I really don’t know everything myself. It’s... some kind of anxious problem, I think.”
“Oh, I know this one!” Athena leapt on Phoenix’s words. “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault. Apollo says it happens to every guy sometimes!”
A suddenly-red Apollo made an indistinguishable noise from his side of the desk, and muttered something at the floor.
“No... it’s not that, and it’s not me. It’s Edgeworth. He’s the one with the problem,” Phoenix sighed. There was a space of silence; he began to feel his skin crawl with an inexplicable irritation. “What? What did I say?”
“Well, nothing, Mr. Wright, but....” Apollo trailed off before starting again with a bit more conviction, “I mean... you’re sure it’s Mr. Edgeworth who has the problem?”
“You’re sure it isn’t you? I mean, he’s the one who hasn’t been calling,” Athena added helpfully. Phoenix looked back and forth between them several times.
“What? No! It isn’t me!” Phoenix defended himself. “I mean... I don’t think I... helped, exactly... but I wanted to! I was trying to! It just didn’t work out!”
“Then just tell us what it is already, um Himmels Willen!” Athena slammed the palms of her hands down on Phoenix’s desk and glared at him across it. So much for “pristine.” “For the hundredth time: We’d really like to help. Apollo and I both want to see this place picking up new cases again, and we can’t do it without you at the helm.”
Phoenix allowed a bit of a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth. “I can’t tell you everything,” he said slowly. “It’d be a—what did you call it?—a ‘B.O.C.’. I probably wouldn’t get sanctioned, but... I don’t think I’d have long to live afterwards. All I know is that it’s really... weird, and really complicated. It’s led me and Edgeworth into two fights so far, and I really don’t know what to do about it.”
“Didn’t you say you think this is an ‘anxious’ thing?” Apollo asked. Phoenix nodded. “Well, then... maybe you should look it up. Research it a little.”
“Yeah! Break out a book for once in your life!” Athena cheered.
“I was thinking more like searching the internet, but... yeah, essentially. Anxiety’s a difficult thing. You can’t always take a hammer to it.” Phoenix nodded again. Apollo was probably right. The last time Phoenix had tried “hammering” it, he’d come out less another thirty dollars in cab fare, and, it seemed, all hope of further boyfriendly affection. “You might have to know something about the reasons and the triggers before you can do anything about it.”
Athena chimed in, “Plus, if you haven’t been talking, maybe taking an interest could warm him up again!”
Phoenix looked around at his junior associates and marveled, bathing in the first pleasant silence he’d known in weeks.
“Apollo, Athena...” he said, with a smile, a shrug and a sigh, “have I ever mentioned how brilliant you guys are?”
“Oh, Boss, you don’t have to worry about that,” Athena chirped through a toothy grin. “Not when quarterly bonuses speak for themselves!”
Phoenix raised his eyebrows. “Umm, yeah, about—”
“Come on, Apollo! Let’s leave Mr. Wright to his research!”
With that, Athena dragged the still-pink Apollo out of the office, leaving Phoenix alone with his slightly cheerier reflection.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It took Phoenix longer than he would have liked to find what he was looking for during his “research.”
It was awkward enough having to think in any depth about Miles’ issues; having to transcribe them into some comprehensible form in a search engine was just about the end of him—particularly when he shared a computer with his daughter, and particularly when he forgot to clear his search history one evening. But, eventually, he made it: from fumbling pee-based sentences to a term, and from a term to websites, books and articles.
After a few nights’ worth of bookmarks and notes and total cell silence, Phoenix was ready. That night—three weeks after That Night—he decided to make a call. |
A/N: Just a short phone call to set things up.
Chapter V: The Phone Call
“Edgeworth speaking.”
Phoenix stopped, struck hard by the wall of formality.
“Edgeworth speaking,” the voice repeated, now with a distinct edge.
“Hey,” Phoenix greeted airily. Perhaps a bit too airily, as he was interrupted almost immediately.
“What do you want, Wright?”
There wasn’t as much outright anger as he’d anticipated. There was something else: weariness.
“Um... what’s with all the ‘Wright’s and ‘Edgeworth’s?” Phoenix asked tentatively.
A second of silence, then: “I think that we rather left first names behind, wouldn’t you say? At the cinema?”
Phoenix had holed himself in his bedroom for this call, thrown on some sweatpants and crawled under his covers, and yet he still felt a nauseating chill pass through him.
“I... uh....”
“Yes?” So pointed and smooth. Phoenix swallowed.
“It’s just... uh....”
“Wright, if you have nothing of any pertinence to say to me, I’m hanging up.”
“It’s just... I... uh... wanted to talk to you about your... problem....”
“....”
“...Hello? Are you—?”
“I’m hanging up.”
“No—wait, wait, wait—just—” Phoenix scrambled for the right words, “just—listen for a second, would you?!”
There was a silence. Not just a pause, but several long, empty moments. Miles couldn’t have hung up, though. Phoenix checked his phone; they were still connected. After a little while, he could hear Miles breathing quietly on the other end.
“Wright,” he sighed eventually. Or perhaps it was “Right.” It was impossible to be entirely sure. Just as it was impossible for Phoenix to actually see the scowl adorning Miles’ face, though he was sure it was there. He thought he heard the whisper of a hand passing across a forehead, too. “All right. For a second. I’ll give you a minute, even, if you want it.”
“Uh... right.” Phoenix cleared his throat and went on, “So, you see, I know I went about things all wrong the other day, for starters. I messed up. I’m really sorry about that.” There was a small, derisive sniff on the other end of the call. “But I’ve been looking into all this stuff of yours—paruresis, the sites call it? Is that how you pronounce it?—and I really think that I could actually help. You know... you. With it.”
It was so much harder than he’d pictured it. Phoenix had had it all laid out in his head: He called, and confidently informed his estranged lover that he would do everything he could to lead him out of his bizarre form of despair. Miles naturally, gratefully, accepted. Together, they followed all the guides Phoenix had discovered with ease, and, within a month, all of their problems were resolved and they were happily living in some fashionable spot together.
In reality, there was a lot more silence than he would’ve liked. Every time he finished another one of his disjointed sentences, Miles took that time plus a half to even begin to reply. And every quiet moment made Phoenix begin sweating anew.
“That was hardly a minute,” Miles mumbled, low enough to have been to himself. Phoenix forged ahead.
“Well?”
“‘Well’ what?”
“Well... what do you think? About the help?” Phoenix sighed, “And, please, just answer me this time.”
“I....” Phoenix couldn’t help but to smile a little at Miles’ obvious discomfort. “I... well... I— why does it matter to you?”
“What?”
“Why does it matter?” Miles hissed lowly into his phone, as if he feared being overheard. Phoenix could suddenly hear every one of his breaths blowing into the microphone, and every hard syllable as it left Miles’ lips. “It didn’t matter until you... made it matter. I don’t see that it requires resolution. If we both simply continue on as we have been—”
“That’s just it Miles! Don’t you get it?!” Phoenix burst in. “I don’t want to ‘continue on as we have been’! I’m tired of you refusing to talk to me. I’m tired of this—this—lukewarm romance! I love you, Miles, and I want us to be together—together, you know? I want to see you all the time, every day... and... I don’t really see it happening if we just ignore something that’s going to keep us apart.”
Phoenix would have given anything to see Miles’ face just then. To know if he met with the idea with any hint of pleasure or shock. Revulsion, even. But he was given nothing, nothing at all but harsh, uneven breathing.
“Miles?” Phoenix asked quietly, before being shushed.
“I—I—”
“It’s okay. Take your time,” Phoenix replied in what he hoped was a soothing voice. Miles made a few more abortive attempts at replying before managing to speak coherently:
“I... I love you, too, Phoenix.” It came out in a whisper, so soft that Phoenix might have missed it altogether if he hadn’t been pressing the phone so tight to his ear. “And I would like us to be... together... as you say... but....”
“It is possible,” Phoenix supplied, sensing the probable end to his boyfriend’s sentence. “I’ve read that it’s possible. Other people have done it, especially when they’ve got someone there to help. I’ve learned a lot these past few days.”
“Where from?” Miles asked, clearly skeptical.
“The internet, of course.” Miles gave another haughty sniff in reply. “Hey, how did you expect me to find out about it? You didn’t even tell me what it was called.”
“No. No, you’re right,” Miles conceded. “Your research seems to have led you down the right path... for once. A shame you don’t put the same effort into your cases.”
“What? I—I put so much time into my last trial case! I had about twelve billable hours in research alone!” Phoenix cried. But he’d heard the smile in Miles’ voice; the grain of defensiveness in him was quick to crumble. “It doesn’t really matter, though. He’s looking like another candidate for pro bono anyway. And I didn’t call you to talk about work.”
“Well... what more do you want to talk about, then?” Miles’ voice came over, soft again; gentler.
Phoenix stopped, thinking. There was a lot he could’ve talked about. Sitting up in bed with the bedside lamp casting warm lights and shadows across him... he could’ve said anything. He’d imagined a lot, after all, while sitting in this exact spot in the middle of his over-large bed, illuminated by this light, wearing—or discarding—these same sweatpants... and Miles’ voice was there now, hanging just at the other end of the line, waiting for him—
“Phoenix?” It asked, suddenly, breaking and bolstering Phoenix’s reverie in the same word.
“Ah! Uh... what?” Phoenix gasped. Miles almost laughed, a little pleased hum of misplaced understanding into his phone. Phoenix shook his head sharply. “Right, I... really just wanted to schedule another time for us to meet up, to discuss this more. Whenever you can find it.” After a beat, Phoenix continued, “Soon. That can’t be too difficult, can it? I mean, you must be really good at finding time—”
“Yes, yes, alright,” Miles interrupted tersely. Maybe he wasn’t ready for jabs about this subject just yet. “Perhaps... Tuesday evening. I shall be off on Wednesday. We might have... sufficient time, then.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll bring my notes. Your place?”
“Yes. I’ll order something in for us.”
“Great.” Phoenix absently thumbed the waistband of his sweatpants. “So—uh—did you want to talk about... anything else?”
“No.” The reply was broad and firm; it left no room for argument. “I really must be going. I have another early morning tomorrow.”
“Ah.” Phoenix thought he masked the disappointment in his voice quite well. “Guess I’ll let you go then.”
“Thank you. Good night, Phoenix.”
“Good night, Miles.” |
A/N: Posting this here (only slightly, but still) prior to its AO3 release, as I've been neglecting this thread sorely. Hope you like it! I actually kind of do, as I feel like I'll be able to pivot pretty well from this into actual omo content....
Chapter VI: Parallax
The following Tuesday saw Phoenix back at Miles’ swanky apartment for the first time in weeks. The handsome brown leather and gunmetal corners of a briefcase didn’t exactly match with his short-sleeved button-up and jeans, but Phoenix hadn’t felt comfortable carrying his mountain of notes around in anything he couldn’t keep locked. So: the briefcase it was, unless he wanted to borrow one of Trucy’s trick chests.
He was let inside with a near-smile and greeted by a kitchen table filled with all the trappings of a cozy Italian dinner. The rich scent wafted warmly to him the moment he stepped in, and the dining room was wonderfully arranged, from the tall white candles to the fresh bread and pasta to the fragrant red wine. It could have been any other night from before That Night, and Phoenix was grateful for it.
He couldn’t quite tell if Miles was. Though he’d set up the dinner to perfection, and he sort-of smiled and he called Phoenix by his first name, little things seemed to oppose the idyllic setting: Miles fiddled with his wine glass periodically, only sipped at it once that Phoenix noticed, and he barely met Phoenix’s eyes. He did manage to laugh when Phoenix dropped a joke, but the sound fell out of him dry and unsteady.
When they were just about done with dinner, Phoenix reached across the table and grasped Miles’ chilly hand.
“You don’t have to worry so much,” he said, smiling and seeking his boyfriend’s leaden eyes. “We’re just going to talk tonight. And you can tell me as much or as little as you want. No pressure.” Miles smirked into his half-empty plate. “Come on, let’s get everything cleaned up. Then we can just relax and talk.”
“Yes... all right,” Miles said, and they adjourned to the sink. In about fifteen minutes they had all the food packed away and the dishes put into the dish washer; once their hands were dry, Phoenix took Miles’ once more and led him into the living room, a sleek, almost Spartan space decorated sparsely in black and white and glass. There, he let go of him again to flop down in an armchair situated at the end of the low glass-topped coffee table.
“Why don’t you take a seat on the couch? You can even lie down, if you want,” Phoenix offered. Miles narrowed his eyes.
“What are you, my therapist?” He asked, and gingerly set his wine down on the table.
“Your sexy therapist,” Phoenix replied with a tilt to an eyebrow and a corner of his mouth. Miles let out another dry laugh (though Phoenix liked to think that it had a little more body than the last) and sat down on the middle couch cushion. Phoenix took up his briefcase and began shuffling through the papers inside until he found his first page of notes. “Aha! Now, then... like I said... I just wanted us to talk. Maybe you could just... start... by....” He perused the pages for a few seconds, “Uh... well, start by telling me a little bit about the problem.”
As always—or, rather, as it had been since all this had begun—Miles was silent. He fell at once into a state of contemplation, leaning forward with his elbow on his knee and a hand over his mouth. It was maybe thirty seconds before he replied, sighing,
“Well... I suppose that I didn’t think it a ‘problem’ until recently.” His gaze was fixed, focused just as it had been on That Night and during the intermission of the Cinema Disaster. “I... I had learned to live with it. Quite well, if I do say so myself. I—” He paused, and swallowed. “I never had to worry about waiting until I was home alone, or in a hotel en suite. I’d learned how to do everything I needed to. I... had control over it.”
“Okay, you’re going to have to tell me something about that,” Phoenix replied. Miles turned a rather wide gaze on him.
“About... what, precisely?” His voice wasn’t exactly tremulous, but it hardly sounded enthusiastic about leaving Miles’ mouth. Phoenix shrugged.
“I don’t know, just... how you ‘learned to live with it.’” Phoenix leaned back in his seat with his lapful of papers. Maybe, just maybe, if he managed a completely casual attitude, a little of his own tranquility might osmose into Miles. “I mean, I can’t say I have the biggest bladder around—” Miles seemed to choke a little, despite having not touched his wine— “but I also can’t imagine an entire work day without going to the bathroom. And what about when you travel? How do you do it?”
Red began filtering into Miles’ face at the question, starting with the very points of his cheeks and nose, and his gaze settled resolutely forward.
“I’ve... learned, very well, how much I can safely drink,” he murmured, nearly into his hand. “It took some time... but it was fairly simple to determine. Simple cause-and-effect. I’ve learned how to limit myself. At this point, I daresay that people don’t even notice.”
“I mean, you’re right. You’re definitely right. I never noticed,” Phoenix said. “But... doesn’t that hurt you?”
“I don’t think so,” he replied firmly. Phoenix frowned.
“Hmm... well, what about That Night?”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean the night when you told me. About this.” Miles’ fingers drifted to rest wholly over his lips. “What went wrong?”
“I’d had two glasses of Lambrusco with dinner, and no water,” Miles replied after several moments, with his hand barely out of the way. “You were to stay until the end of the film, which would have put your departure at around 10 o’clock PM. At most I would expect some discomfort at that hour, nothing... damning.”
Phoenix raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And? What happened?”
“You fell asleep about halfway into the movie. With your head on my leg.” Miles paused, and the bit of his mouth that was visible crept into a smile. “You were so... adorable. I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”
“‘Adorable,’ eh?” Phoenix smiled too, and the once-skeptical eyebrow took on a distinct waggle. “Good to know. I’ll have to remember that. Make sure to fall asleep on you more often. But it would’ve been a lot better to know how adorable you find me before all of this went down.”
“I thought you were going for ‘sexy’ tonight,” Miles remarked, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a small sip.
“I was going for ‘Sexy Therapist,’ actually, and now that we’re back on the subject....” Phoenix took up his notes again. “You never actually answered my first question. So I’ll ask you again: Can you tell me a little about your problem? Tell me what it is for you, at least.”
Miles, glass still in hand, stared into the reddish depths as his face struggled to match them in color and vibrancy. The fingers of his other hand took to drumming his bottom lip.
“It’s okay,” Phoenix broke in, after nearly a minute of quiet. “If you don’t feel like it, you don’t have—”
“I can’t void in the presence of others. It’s impossible for me,” Miles said slowly. He stopped for several moments, apparently intent on glowering at his drink. “It started at school, I think. Nothing was ever clean at school, not like at home. There was no privacy, and people could hear me, and then... it became difficult. It became so much easier, better to just wait until I got home... I never had to humiliate myself by asking permission; I never had to worry about being noticed or heard... and then there was von Karma.”
“I wondered when that name was going to show up,” Phoenix sighed. “What happened with him?”
Miles began to swirl the nearly-full glass of wine in his hand. “We were leaving the courthouse,” he said, a little faraway now. “I was... perhaps eleven, or twelve... I’d made a mistake. I had to use the facilities before we left. I was dismissed, but I persisted... then I was told to ‘be quick about it.’ So I tried.” Miles put the wine glass down and folded his hands convulsively. “I tried, and... it didn’t work. Every second in which I failed seemed to last... forever, and then—and then there was yelling, and—I couldn’t. Still. When he’d had enough, he took me away and put me in his car and made me suffer the ride back to von Karma Manor, humiliated, and—!”
Miles breathed at last, but it was a shaking, faintly wheezing sound, and he’d pressed his face into his hand. Phoenix was quiet then—he hadn’t prepared for a deluge.
“I’m sorry,” he said eventually, though the words sounded lame and ineffective in his head. “I’m... really sorry, Miles.” He thought for a few moments more, scooted up to the edge of his chair, and continued energetically. “But—but you’re not a kid anymore! No one’s pushing you around like that! You don’t have to keep on holding it all the time. You shouldn’t! It can’t be good for you.”
“Like I said before,” Miles said grimly, “I have to. I can’t do otherwise. I have had occasion to make attempts at... correction... but nothing has ever worked.”
“What have you done? In support of ‘correction,’ I mean,” Phoenix asked. Miles shifted in his seat.
“W-well... just... attempting... public places... the restroom at my office, restaurants....” He muttered, as though he could avoid the embarrassment the words clearly caused him if they tripped off his tongue quickly enough. “But nothing has ever come of it, no matter how... extreme my condition.”
“Just a minute—let me see—” Phoenix began shuffling through his papers again. “Let me—ah, yes, here we go! Have you ever tried having a Pee Partner?”
“I—I beg your pardon?!” Miles could hardly have looked more aghast if he’d tried: Eyes wide, face flushed and hands grasping his elbows, he looked rather like Phoenix had just begun speaking to him in tongues—and said something particularly outrageous, besides.
“The materials talk about it a lot. Having someone there to help you, especially with the first few steps,” Phoenix said, lightly tapping one such material with the tips of his fingers. “You’re supposed to make a list, you see, of the places and situations that are the most distressing for you to pee in. Then you go through them with your partner. They’ll start far away, but get closer as you begin to get more comfortable with going in front of them. The theory is—”
“Yes, yes, I think I understand,” Miles said, and dropped his eyes to the floor. “Who is this partner supposed to be?”
“Well, they say that you’re supposed to find someone else who’s had these issues. Someone who understands what it’s like and has already overcome it, at least to a degree. I’ve got a list of contacts right here if you want to look at it—there’s even a couple of them here in L.A.”
Miles took the page and scanned it unblinkingly before he spoke.
“Do you think... er...” Miles wavered on the words, but ultimately forged on after a swallow, “do you think that... you could do it?”
“M-me?” Phoenix stuttered. “I mean... well, you know I haven’t had any experience. You’re supposed to find someone else who’s lived it, I think. They’d know how to advise you and all.”
“Yes, I know... but....” Miles leaned over and looked directly at Phoenix again. After a second of apparent debate, he reached out and prized Phoenix’s hand away from the pile of papers to take it in his own. “Phoenix, I really can’t imagine trusting anyone else with this.”
Despite all his notes said, despite all the talk of professionalism and keeping personal relationships out of treatment, Phoenix grinned; despite the fact that he had no real knowledge apart from his research and no idea what he was doing, he put the papers aside, leaned forward and kissed Miles soundly on the lips, framing his face in his hands. When they broke apart, he leaned their foreheads together.
“Of course I’ll help you,” he said quietly into the small, warm space between them. “I’d be glad to. And besides... I’ll have to do something once my Sexy Therapy License is revoked.”
“...What?” Miles asked, breathlessly bewildered. Phoenix motioned between them.
“Fraternizing with a patient. The Sexy Board won’t look too kindly on it.” Miles moved away, smiling, and shook his head.
“You’re an idiot,” he laughed, and took up his glass once more for a few swallows of his wine. Phoenix laughed along with him, then smirked.
“Wait, does this mean you’re ready to start now?” Phoenix asked, nodding towards the glass of wine. Miles put it down again with a loud click of glass against glass.
“No,” he said definitely, and stood, offering a hand for Phoenix to do the same. “It means that, while I do appreciate your efforts, I think it’s about time that we parted for the evening.”
“Well, then... when will we start?” Phoenix asked as he shoved his notes into his briefcase. “You said you have the day off tomorrow, right? What about then? There’s not much going on at the office right now. I could come down here in the afternoon.”
“...Yes. All right.” Miles said shortly. He hardly seemed convinced by his own assent.
“I want you to make that list, if you can,” Phoenix said. “Ten places or scenarios, from the least- to the most-... frightening? Concerning? However you think of it. Oh, and have a lot of water handy.” The color that had just about emptied from Miles’ face returned with sudden intensity.
“We live in the city, Wright; I don’t anticipate any shortage of—” Phoenix crept up on him with another light kiss before heading for the doorway.
“Until tomorrow, then,” he said, winked, and passed out into the hallway with a grin on his face |
A/N: Guess what? I still haven't manged to do some real omo content. I'm thinking it'll come in a chapter or two, when Edgey-boy gets beyond the initial anxiety; I just can't abide feeling like he's being pushed (figuratively-speaking, anyhow.) I want this to be nice and fluffy and stuff despite it all!
Hope that you enjoy, as per usual; comments are cherished and loved! ❤️
Chapter VII: Poker
“Phoenix... we have to stop.”
“Now? Really?”
“Yes—now—really.”
“Okay... fine.”
Phoenix opened the apartment door and took a step inside; Miles stepped out of his washroom door in the same moment, absolutely red-faced, with one hand clenched at his side and the other splayed over his mouth. Phoenix sighed and flopped down on the sofa.
“So....” He trailed off, and waved his hand vaguely. “What do you want to do now?”
Miles shook his head and didn’t respond at once. He walked—with small, uneven steps—over to the end of the sofa. He looked as though he were about to sit for a moment, but stopped himself, and ended up standing there with his body held perfectly perpendicular to the floor.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled into his palm. Phoenix sighed again, louder this time. They were both quiet for several moments, but the quiet wasn’t silent; Miles’ breaths were loud and uneven through his fingers.
“Are you—?”
“I just—”
They both cut themselves off as their voices crossed over one another.
“Go on,” Phoenix said, and leaned back in his seat, watching Miles’ face. It seemed that it really had hit a point of saturation; otherwise more color definitely would have been flooding into his cheeks, if the timbre of his voice was any indication.
“I—just—I—” He stuttered, and stopped himself. Phoenix’s gaze shifted, taking in the entire image his boyfriend presented to him: Dressed in his most casual attire—a burgundy button-down tucked tightly into black slacks finer than anything Phoenix owned—Miles would’ve appeared normal to anyone else, if a little overdressed. But from where he was sitting, Phoenix could easily make out the slight convex bulge peeking out just below Miles’ stomach; he could see the fine drops of sweat glistening at his temples and heard the strange, barely-audible noise that caught in his throat just before he spoke. “It’s just... it isn’t working. I can’t.”
Phoenix dragged his gaze back up to Miles’ face. “You can! Look, I know this is stressful for you and all but... we haven’t even been at it for that long,” he sighed, and glanced at his watch. “You’ve only been trying to go for, what... twenty minutes? Don’t you think we could try a bit longer?” Miles shook his head minutely.
“No... not right now... I feel....” He swallowed. “I feel... like my heart shall burst out of my chest.”
Phoenix raised a distinctly doubtful eyebrow. “And how else do you feel?”
“F-fine!” Miles countered at once. “Perfectly fine....”
“Hmm.” Phoenix thought for a moment or two. “Do you want to know what I think?” He looked back over at Miles, whose eyes were focused very attentively on the crook of his own left arm.
“...I don’t know,” Miles muttered.
“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway: I think we might have to go back a step in your list.” Miles furrowed his already-furrowed browed gaze.
“We’re on the first step, Phoenix,” he said flatly.
“Yeah, I know,” Phoenix said with a shrug. “But I think we might’ve skipped something.”
“And what, pray tell, is that?” There was a bit of a bite to Miles’ voice. Phoenix chose to take it as a good sign.
“I think you’re still too nervous to begin with. We’re going to have to get you calmed down and...” Phoenix fished for the right word for a second or two, “used... to having to pee. To the thought and the feeling and to letting people—me, at least—know about it.”
Miles shook his head once, with sharp finality. “N-no, no... I... I don’t want to... talk about it anymore. The subject is so... it’s... I really don’t like it at all.”
“That’s exactly my point!” Phoenix reached for his pile of papers and smacked the one he was looking for with the backs of his knuckles. “Yeah, yeah... it says here that ‘for some paruretics, the anxiety associated with even the contemplation of the act of urination exacerbates symptoms.’” He looked up at Miles’ very still form next to the couch as he finished. “Well? Doesn’t that sound like you?”
“Ngh... perhaps....” Miles clutched suddenly at his elbows, and began shifting slightly from foot to foot. Phoenix offered him a smile.
“It does. And you know what? I really think we can do something about it. Get you used to thinking about it, to talking about it....” Phoenix stood, then, and turned around to put his hands on Miles’ shoulders. Miles flinched. “Starting with you admitting that you have to go.”
Miles sucked in a gasp laced with indignation. “But—I—”
“Look, I’m not upset, and I won’t be,” Phoenix said carefully. “Just tell me: Do you have to go?”
Miles shook his head silently, and took several moments to begin to form a response.
“I... I don—”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Phoenix cut in.
“What?” Miles looked up at once, clearly derailed from some familiar mental track.
“I just asked you if you think I’m stupid,” Phoenix repeated, distinctly enunciating every syllable. “Do you?”
Miles’ eyes widened perceptibly, and he clutched his elbows all the tighter. “Certainly not! What brings—”
“Well, you must,” Phoenix continued. “If you were about to say what I think you were... then you must. Or else you’re not actually prepared to be trying this, and you should probably have another glass or two of water. One or the other.”
“Th-that’s—!” Miles looked as if he would have reeled back, were he capable of such extreme movement just then. Had he really never had anyone else turn his own ruthless logic against him this way? Did he really think he could escape Phoenix of all people with his comfortable lies?
“It’s really not that hard,” Phoenix said quietly. “Look, I’ll say it now: I have to pee. See? Not hard. And it doesn’t make you angry with me, does it?”
“N-no....” Miles was clearly struggling under the weight of Phoenix’s argument, enough that his left hand drifted up to rest a finger on his temple. But he didn’t fold immediately. “But—”
“Do you feel embarrassed for me? Upset with me?”
“No! Of course I don’t....”
“Well, then. You could try taking the same attitude towards yourself, don’t you think?” Phoenix offered brightly. Miles struggled on the edge of a word for several moments.
“B-but... but....”
“‘But’ what? Is the Great Miles Edgeworth really a god, immune to the bodily functions of us mere mortals? Is he really so much more controlled than everyone else who’s ever walked the planet—?”
“All right, all right—fine.” Miles shifted unsteadily, his eyes nailed to the floor between them. “I... er... I... have to... I... would like to...” He paused before the last word, as though uttering it would actually kill him. “...V-void.”
“Close enough!” Phoenix declared, and patted his boyfriend heartily on the shoulder. Miles let out another soft, indefinable noise. “Right. Good. Practice that. I’m going to go out for a little while, and when I come back, we’re going to work on getting you relaxed when you need to pee.”
“Er... does that mean... I mean... should I—?” Miles gestured vaguely towards the bathroom.
“Yeah, you should probably go now. And try to calm down a little while I’m gone, would you?” Phoenix paused and thought for a second. “Come to think of it, what do you usually do to relax?”
Miles thought in return. “I... don’t have any prescribed routine. Tea, perhaps?”
“Hmm. Well, we don’t want to get any diuretics in you right now.” Miles fingers twitched against his arm. “I’ll try to find something to help while I’m out. I’ll be back in half an hour, okay?”
“Okay.”
They exchanged light kisses on the cheek before Phoenix headed out into the world. He wasn’t sure where he was going, at first—he’d really just needed an excuse to leave before Miles burst—and eventually decided to make a trip back to his own place for a diversion. Miles owned enough Steel Samurai seasons to last them multiple lifetimes, but Phoenix was looking for something for them to do together that involved a little more communication, and a little more concentration. Maybe, then, they’d manage to get to the bottom of this. The beginning of the bottom of this, anyway.
After waffling between a video game and an ill-used portable chess set for a while, Phoenix gave both options up in favor of a pack of playing cards and a handful of poker chips. It was almost forty-five minutes later when he returned to Miles’ place; he found Miles there sitting on the sofa with his glass of water, hand over his mouth and paleness back in his face, glaring into the spotless glass surface of his coffee table. So much for “relaxation.” Phoenix took a few steps in and slammed the front door shut behind him, waking his partner out of whatever reverie he’d caught himself in.
“Sorry for taking so long,” Phoenix greeted cheerily. “You feeling better?”
The color returned immediately—a dusting, at least—across Miles’ cheeks and nose. “Yes. Thank you.”
Phoenix smiled. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it? Congratulations, babe.”
“I don’t... what?” Miles deigned to meet Phoenix’s eyes, if only to fix him with a gaze narrowed in bemusement.
“You’ve completed the first step! Well, step zero, I suppose,” Phoenix mused. “You managed to go to the bathroom with me existing anywhere on the planet. Heck, with a lot of people existing in places on this planet!” Miles groaned and turned away again. “Hey, that’s good, isn’t it? Progress.”
“You’re not funny, Phoenix,” Miles said into his hand. “I really wish that you’d stop... making light of all of this.”
“You see, my dear,” Phoenix began, flopped down on the sofa, and allowed an arm to rest easily over his boyfriend’s bow-taut shoulders, “you’re taking ‘all of this’ way too seriously. It’s a problem. And it’s exactly what I want to help you with today.” He pulled the pack of cards out of his sweatshirt pocket and shook them slightly.
Miles looked over and observed the cards impassively. “By returning to your gambling addiction?”
“No!” Phoenix cried in defense. He opened the deck and dumped it into his hands; as soon as the cards hit his palms, they took to eager, subconscious shuffling. “I just think this’ll be something good to do while we wait for you to try again. I think you’ll find it relaxing after a while. And we can talk during the games, and it’ll keep your mind occupied, and—”
“With poker, you mean?” Miles interrupted.
“Naturally.” Phoenix stood again, walking the waterfalling cards across the room and over to the kitchen door. “Come on. We’ll play at the kitchen table.”
“And what if I told you that I don’t know how to play?” A loud, staccato laugh burst from Phoenix. He pushed the rest back inside his throat before replying,
“Even better! I’ll teach you. Then you’ll really have to bend your mind around it! Less room for distraction.” Phoenix made another encouraging motion towards the kitchen; Miles began to follow slowly. “Bring your water, though! We’re not done just yet.”
Miles grimaced, and blushed, and snatched his nearly-full glass of water from the coffee table. Phoenix got one for himself—a bit of solidarity never hurt anybody—and began to explain the rules of a five-card draw game at Miles’ pristine black granite table.
It didn’t take long for Phoenix to lay out everything and for them to begin playing without much pause. Miles, for all his recent displays of discomfiture, turned out to be quite good at maintaining stoicism during his hands. Not good enough that Phoenix couldn’t read him, of course—Phoenix had just about memorized the hundred or so varieties of glare Miles had in his repertoire—but better than most newcomers. They sipped at their drinks (at Phoenix’s encouragement) and chatted about this and that as they played, and it seemed to Phoenix that they were finally heading towards something like “relaxation.”
After about an hour of winning hands, though—
“Wait,” Phoenix sat, stunned, staring down at the hands laid out on the table: His own, a pair of kings, and Miles’, three sevens. “I lost?! How did I—?”
Phoenix ran down the facts in his head: He’d dealt the cards. They’d looked at their hands. Miles had grimaced just a little as he looked at his, and sighed as he’d rearranged the cards. He’d crossed his legs and begun drumming his fingers on the table after changing two of them, and sighed a second time when he looked at his new hand. He’d shifted in his seat, and had glanced repeatedly at Phoenix as he changed his own....
“Oh.” The realization hit Phoenix like a stiff slap to the face. Too bad he’d already sacrificed his winning streak. “How... uh... how are you feeling, Miles? Okay?”
“Yes, of course,” Miles replied tersely, concentrating very hard on clearing up the old cards and shuffling them inexpertly together. Phoenix levelled a hard gaze at him.
“Oh, yeah?” Phoenix asked, making absolutely no effort to keep the skepticism out of his tone. If anything, he leaned into it. “You always shift around like that, then? You always cross your legs? I’d never noticed before. I could swear I’ve never seen you do that in court....” Miles slammed his hand down on the table, sending a few of the cards fluttering off the top of the deck and onto the floor.
“What do you want me to say, Phoenix?” He demanded abruptly. “Do you want me to just... describe every one of my physical feelings to you? You want me to tell you every time I have to—to—”
“Yeah, I think I do, actually,” Phoenix replied. He sat back, folded his arms, crossed one leg coolly over the other, and maintained a firm gaze even as Miles’ began to falter. “Tell me. Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
Miles looked at Phoenix, astounded, for a second, before dropping his eyes again. Phoenix groaned out loud; Miles curled his hand into a fist and remained mute.
“How about I tell you what I’m feeling, then?” Phoenix asked the unbearably sharp silence. “I’m pretty frustrated, actually. And a bit uncomfortable. I have to go to the bathroom. All that water, you know. Hold on a minute—I’ll be back.”
Phoenix broke off his gaze and walked resolutely out the door, through the living room and into Miles’ washroom. It, like everything in Miles’ apartment, was really quite nice, if a little too clean for Phoenix’s tastes. Not to say that he liked his bathrooms dirty, of course, but the shocking air of cleanliness in this one made actually using the facilities a little unsettling.
After a quick use of the toilet and wash of the hands, Phoenix returned to his partner at his place at the kitchen table. Miles was still sitting there, legs crossed tight, but had since put his arms up on the table and buried his face in his hands. His glasses had managed to end up on the floor, along with a few more cards and some of the chips. Phoenix approached quietly, picked up the discarded frames, and rested a hand on Miles’ shoulder.
“Hey,” he said gently, “I thought you said ‘no elbows on the table.’”
Miles breathed audibly through his nose, pulled his arms in to his chest, and looked back at Phoenix, as red-faced as he’d been at the start of the day.
“I’m not fit for this, Phoenix,” he said, in a low, small voice. “I’m not like you; I’m not....”
“A loud-mouthed cretin who’s always blabbing about how he feels?” Phoenix offered. Miles nearly smiled.
“No, no.... It’s just that... I’m not candid. Not enough. Not even for you, when you ask,” he sighed, and accepted his glasses back wearily. “But the words pain me... so much.”
“I know,” Phoenix responded softly, and reached out to smooth one of Miles’ bangs behind his ear. “I think we can get there.” Miles let out a sardonic half-laugh. “No, really, I do. I think we just have to get used to talking about it. And doing it. We’ve both got to try a little harder.”
They remained there for several moments, Phoenix absently toying with Miles’ soft silvery hair and Miles staring off towards the ceiling, lacing his long fingers convulsively around one another. He spoke eventually, but so quietly that Phoenix couldn’t make it out.
“What was that?” Phoenix whispered along with him.
“I hate this feeling. Having to... urinate,” he said, very softly, but, Phoenix thought, without quite so much mortification. “Whenever it happens, whenever anyone else is about... anxiety takes hold. Then... the need becomes stronger, and... the feelings... they feed into and upon one another. It’s really just horrible.”
“Do you feel that way now?” Phoenix asked.
“A little, yes,” Miles admitted. Phoenix took a moment for thought, removed his hands from his boyfriend’s hair, and made his way back around to the other side of the table after picking up the scattered chips and cards from the floor.
“Let’s play a little more, then, shall we?” Phoenix asked. The cards in his hands began flying almost as soon as they reached his fingers. Miles’ eyes widened. “You can make it for a little while longer, can’t you?”
“I suppose,” Miles murmured, almost meekly. Phoenix dealt out ten cards and placed the deck between them.
“Don’t worry. You can just tell me when it gets to be too much,” he assured him, and picked up his hand. “Looking good over there?”
Miles picked up his cards, glanced across the table, and slapped his mask of stoicism back on. “I couldn’t say. Three cards, please.”
They continued on in this fashion—playing, Phoenix making attempts at friendly chatter, Miles responding as well he could—for some time. Longer than Phoenix expected. Long enough that Phoenix began to be able to read Miles even through the urgency that twisted his body and expressions. It was more than an hour later when Miles at last put his cards down, shivered, and folded his hands together before him.
“I think that’s about enough for this afternoon,” he proclaimed tightly, but managed a ghost of a smile. Phoenix smiled back.
“That bad a hand, huh?” He asked, drawing all the cards on the table back into his hands and into their box. Miles glowered. “Kidding, kidding. But, uh... why do you want to stop now?”
Miles stared. “Th-that’s... it’s obvious, isn’t it?” He asked in a rush, caught, it seemed, between the embarrassment of speaking and the embarrassment his body was causing him.
“Yes,” Phoenix said. Miles was right. It was obvious. Miles had spent the last half hour in quite a state: crossing and uncrossing his legs and contorting his spine and clenching and stretching and tapping his fingers. His voice had been, rather than the baritone work of art that Phoenix was used to, a strained, anguished thing. There’d been a time—an unexpected twinge, maybe?—that had had him gasping and groaning; the hand with his cards had trembled and the other pressed suddenly into his upper thigh. Yes, it was obvious. “I still want you to tell me, though. ‘Progress’ and all.”
“‘Progress’... yes....” Miles took several seconds and several heavy breaths before he could continue, but he did: “I... have to use the restroom... and I’d prefer if you left. For now.”
“Great. That’s really good, you know, Miles,” he replied cheerfully. Miles’ flush deepened and his eyes dropped, but this time they were accompanied by a small smile. “Keep on doing that. I’ll get out of your hair. But we’ll have to do this again soon; the guides recommend doing this a few times a week. I guess with work it’ll have to be only a couple, but maybe on Saturday we can... hey, are you coming with me?”
Phoenix had been walking out of the room as he spoke. Miles remained resolutely contorted in his chair.
“No, I... feel free to show yourself out,” he returned, again in that strange, small voice. Phoenix sighed, crossed the step over to the table, and kissed him quickly on the lips.
“Okay. Saturday, then,” Phoenix declared.
“Saturday,” Miles replied, focusing quite hard on the subtle stripe in the granite of his table.
“I’ll bring the cards again.”
“Yes.”
“Text if you want to talk or anything.”
“Yes, yes.”
“Okay, well... enjoy your kitchen.” Phoenix waved, and made his way out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He shouldn’t have hung around Miles’ apartment door after he’d said he’d go. He definitely shouldn’t have. But, he thought, listening to the quick, light steps, and the clicks of two locks, and the slam of a door inside Miles’ apartment, it might be good to let him know that he’d managed to complete his first step without even trying.
Edited August 12, 2020 by HoneyBeam521
(see edit history) |
A/N: So, this chapter's a bit... confusing.
There's a POV change. The mood isn't as cheerful as what I expected from whence I left off from the last chapter. I diverted from what I feel would have been a bit more of an organic path (storytelling-wise, anyway) because I really wanted to get a bit more omo content in there.
If you're reading this: Do you like its style at all? Should I flesh out the memories at some point (perhaps separately from the body of this work)? I'm just not sure about this whole thing.
The only thing I do know is that the next chapter's fixing to be the climax.
Well, anyway, as always: I hope you like this! Reads and reviews are always appreciated!
SECOND A/N: I guess I'm going to sort of beta-post this here prior to AO3, as I just don't know how to feel about what I've done with the tone and internal consistency and everything here. But I've spent so much time on it tonight and really want to get something out.
I can't say that I think I'll get a lot of response here, but I'll try it. I really appreciate you fine folks who do read, as well! All of my appreciation be unto you!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter VIII: Proustian
Edgeworth scrutinized himself in the mirror above his sink. He was red in the face already.
Was this—the pinkened, tremulous thing in the glass—really the same that stood unflinchingly in courts of law, condemning the rotting chaff of humanity? The one that had grown from a lauded, eloquent child; the one that had been recognized and even feared for intellect and—fearlessness?
It was, indisputably. Repugnantly. It was him, and that cursed tinge of blood that always seeped into his skin whenever he regarded Phoenix and his visits and... this... had arrived already.
Phoenix had not yet.
Sighing through the nose, Edgeworth left his washroom, closing its door with startling force behind him. He could use a glass of water. He didn’t want one, but Phoenix would expect him to have one in hand upon arrival. He would expect him to be ready; he wasn’t.
Avoidance. Avoiding avoidance. That was what he was meant to be doing: to be chasing after his anxieties rather than hiding away from them; to be—
His heart nearly stopped when the doorbell rang. He checked his watch. Ten to ten. Phoenix was early.
Edgeworth stepped to, unlocked, and tore open the front door, gazing hard at the man without.
“You’re early.”
“Oh! Hi, Miles. Yeah, a little, I guess.” The smile beamed through Phoenix’s voice, even as Edgeworth’s glare broke and the sharp grey eyes fell.
“You might have been... too early,” he told his handsome rosewood floor. It could use some polishing. There had been too much pacing going on by the doorway of late.
“I’m not, am I?” Phoenix asked airily. Edgeworth exhaled slowly through his nose.
“No... no, the timing was... adequate. But it could easily have been otherwise.” He wrested his focus away from the slight scuff in the floor to look into his partner’s face. It was smiling. Strangely.
“You know, I really don’t think you should be worrying about things like ‘too early’ and ‘too late’ anymore,” Phoenix said, quick and easy enough to make Edgeworth’s eyebrows pull together and a frown to tug at his lips. “We’ve done this, what—five times now? You’ve really got to get used to it at some point. ‘Too early’ or not.”
“I think you’ll find that timing is essential to this matter, Phoenix,” he said lowly. Phoenix took a few steps inside; Edgeworth closed and locked the door behind him.
“Maybe it feels like that now, but it doesn’t always have to be that way. It shouldn’t.” Edgeworth shook his head. Phoenix had been reading altogether too many self-help books, or vlog posts, or wherever it was he obtained his recent wealth of pseudo-therapeutic knowledge. Every time he had a thought in those days, Phoenix had to cut in with a challenge. “You’re not always going to be able to plan. You’re not always—”
“All right, all right,” Edgeworth interrupted, and led the way into the living room. “Let’s just... sit, please.”
Phoenix sat obligingly enough. But then he looked around and up again, his brows knit.
“Drinks?” He asked, and leaned back into the sofa cushions. Edgeworth resisted the impulse to scowl and gave a curt nod in its place.
“Yes. What will you have?”
“That depends,” Phoenix replied, with that smile plastered onto his face again, “what vintage grape juice you got tapped today?”
Edgeworth sighed audibly and retired to the kitchen. He fetched them each a glass—grape juice for Phoenix, iced water for himself—and returned briskly to the living room; there, he placed Phoenix’s down on the tea table in front of the sofa. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his partner shifting a little, as if to make room for him to sit. He ignored the silent invitation and moved to the armchair that Phoenix habitually took instead, earning him a sullen pout when next he looked up.
“Well,” Phoenix said, affronted, “I see someone’s been looking forward to this.”
He allowed the scowl this time. “You arrived early.”
Phoenix let out one of his great shouts of laughter. “Oh, that’s it? I arrive, what—five minutes—”
“Ten minutes!”
“Right, ten minutes early, and now you’re going to be angry with me for the rest of the day?”
“I’ve told you already!” Edgeworth insisted. He could feel his fingers itching to clasp together; he forced them to remain still on his knees. “You were expected at precisely ten o’clock.”
“I was only a little early. People, you know, are, sometimes,” Phoenix said, his voice tinged with bemusement. “Why does it bother you so much?”
Edgeworth made a derisive noise. “That’s obvious.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Great. Perfect. So... what?” Phoenix asked with a subtle glare of his own. “You going to throw me out the minute you have to pee again?”
Edgeworth stared. He was sure that, were he not sitting already, the sudden displacement of blood to his face would have caused his legs to give out. “N-no! Of course—”
“Because it sure sounds like we’re headed down that path,” Phoenix sighed. “Look, if you’re going to keep on being so stubborn about this, maybe we should just...” he made a non-committal wave of the hand and picked up his glass of grape juice, “stop.”
He took a sip of his drink, and Edgeworth’s gaze remained.
Of course he wanted this all to be over. The days of effort they’d sunk into the matter had yielded barely an inch of progress—none, really, since their first session. What’s more, every time Phoenix arrived at his home for this purpose, the shadow of horror fell over Edgeworth’s brain; every time the man arrived on his doorstep, he came that much closer to losing himself utterly to the iron grasp of panic. And all over something so... childish.
Yes, he wanted to “stop.” But he couldn’t ignore the subtler meaning of the choice. If they were to terminate their efforts now... Phoenix was quite right. He’d said it already, weeks ago. It would become nearly impossible to live together; absolutely impossible to live together comfortably. They’d never even be able to spend an entire day with one another uninterrupted.
To “stop” meant to cede. Wholly.
“No,” Edgeworth said at length. “We shouldn’t... stop. Not yet.”
“Well, maybe we can just take it easy today,” Phoenix suggested, and began writhing his way closer to his partner against the soft sofa cushions. “I know how difficult all this ‘trying’ has been for you. Maybe today you could just... tell me about some problems you’ve had. With the pee shyness, I mean.”
“What?” Edgeworth shot, more icily than he’d intended. Phoenix’s hands raising up in minor surrender attested to it.
“It’s nothing to get upset over!” He insisted, and put one of the raised hands over Edgeworth’s where it was clutching at his knee. “I just think it’d be useful. Just... telling me about some difficult times you’ve had. Maybe it’ll make it easier for us to figure out what to do next. What we’ve been doing clearly hasn’t been working... maybe there’s a clue there.”
Edgeworth sat back in the armchair, lightly brushing off Phoenix’s touch, and he thought.
He considered the history of his “problem.” He’d been honest with Phoenix, at least regarding the fact that he’d never deemed all of this a “problem.” Only by sheer propinquity with Phoenix had Edgeworth begun to think in such terms, and, even then, he resisted the notion. It was simply another aspect of his life, another peculiarity that was necessary he live with, along with the facts of his early orphanhood and his inability to tolerate anything approaching an earthquake.
There had never been any marked issues throughout his schooling. He’d taught himself from a young age how to moderate his fluid intake; the incident with von Karma had been an unfortunate oversight that he’d never allowed to occur again in the man’s presence. Even throughout college and law school—the long nights, the ponderous lectures and the caffeinated teas—he’d never known any real difficulties.
It was only in his adulthood that Edgeworth had almost come to total disgrace because of his predilection. Mortifying. Repulsive. Behavior that should have been left behind him when he was barely a child; before he ever came to know Manfred von Karma in any capacity— it returned.
The first of these notable incidents fell on the day he began his employment with the Public Prosecutors’ Office. The instant he’d been cleared by the Bar Association, he’d started to work; work assiduously performed with all the zeal of a man convinced that he alone could bring about the end of violent crime. Files were ambitiously piled upon his desk, and he was prepared to conquer.
It was only when a meeting was called, and he into attendance, that he perceived it. He hadn’t intended it, naturally—was there a person who would intend such a thing?—and yet, there it was: immovable, irascible inside of him; an insistent, immutable pressure, agitated by the meanest movement and the barest brush of clothes. It had crept upon him, as imperceptible and damning as the dark. All at once, his body refused to submit to further suffering in silence.
Of course, the brain was the undisputed master of the body; it persisted past the primal demands. It also persisted past some vain, feckless thoughts of relief. They were impossible. He’d put the knowledge of the building’s restrooms out of his brain immediately upon its entrance—he didn’t require it. And he could never debase himself by asking for their location again, even if they were a feasible option.
He was called to speak. He’d been told he would, long before, in the early hours of the morning; it was a necessity, they’d said, for the new disciple of von Karma. He gave the address they asked for on trembling legs, with a red, sweat-bedewed face. He spoke with such fervor that his firm baritone broke and his spine bent over the table, that he could strike its face in a fit of righteous fury. It was an incendiary address; an impassioned, almost manic condemnation of the villainy of crime that would be recalled by the prosecutors at large for years to come, even if it did wander slightly toward its end.
As he attempted to leave a scene that had, miraculously, been one of victory rather than disgrace, his fellow prosecutors saw fit to express their appreciation with jarring handshakes and excruciating blows to the upper back. The offensive weight of that antiquated attire in which he’d been raised a prosecutor nearly squeezed him into an appalling death, but he escaped, at length. The disjointed jog back to his lodgings—the apartment he’d taken a scant block away, entirely for the purpose of working as much as possible in a day—was nearly as distressing as the amount of time he was made to spend cleaning stains from the fine wool and silk of his clothes, from sweat and... otherwise.
This all Edgeworth survived, well enough to work out how he might evade future disgrace. Well enough, even, to put himself in a similar yet startlingly novel situation some years later during his studies in Europe.
At that time, he was in the habit of standing courts in several European countries; this, of course, necessitated a great deal of travel. In order to keep such matters in order, and because losing track of any one of his many appearances would have proved an utter disaster, he eventually hired a secretary for his office in Munich. Haste and distaste for the task bid Edgeworth accept the first applicant who proved that they were capable of keeping an acceptable weekly schedule.
This, as it happened, was something of an error.
On checking in with Klara the following Monday, he’d perceived no trouble. The girl was deferential and pretty, and she handed Edgeworth his plane ticket to London with a charming little bow of her flaxen-haired head. He allowed a faint smile; she smiled back.
It was only upon entering the airport that matters began to turn: Upon his arrival, a call came in that the defense was prepared to present a new and possibly decisive witness. When he presented his ticket to the airport staff, he found that Klara—that fatuous girl; that girl who would find herself unemployed immediately upon his return—had booked him passage on a crowded flight in the commercial class.
Worst of all, there were certain matters to which he hadn’t been able to attend before he left his home that morning. Matters that couldn’t possibly be attended to in a corner restroom at the airport—not when its lock was broken and its door wouldn’t close securely. Matters that drove him to gasping, writhing insanity as two hours passed in the air; matters that drove him from Heathrow with Hell clawing at his insides and saw him bargaining brokenly with his hotel’s staff for the nearest suite on the ground floor.
Most-recently—barring the degradations foisted upon him by Phoenix—there had been the concert. After having been dragged along to a showing of Detective Gumshoe’s favorite rock and roll group, he’d deemed it necessary to grant the good detective a taste of real art in the form of Baroque chamber music. The Baroque period in music was, to Edgeworth’s mind, the most pleasant one; the antithesis of the histrionic drivel that the Detective professed such love for. It was predictable. It moved in clever forms and figures, contrapuntal melody and countermelody affixed perfectly to each other; it moved with constant interest, but it never surprised.
The same couldn’t be said for his body that evening. It surprised, in the very worst way. He’d been so careful; he’d only had a half-glass of water with his dinner, and yet—!
He’d not made it more than a movement into a spritely Handel suite before the horrifyingly familiar feeling descended, and with it, a vision of the future: It was like a sonata, like a passage of the very music that was running through his brain... but malevolent. A ceaseless line of logic, a devilish musical sequence; flowing maddeningly, pitching up, up, perfectly and inevitably from a single point forever. There was no climax. No end. Only ever-expanding horror with humiliation waiting at the precipice.
Escape became absolutely necessary halfway through the third movement of the piece, escape that took violent form in a sprint to the theatre’s public restroom. The room was blessedly, perfectly empty... for a moment. The world broke apart again almost at once as the room beyond the stall door was suddenly occupied by the Detective, fretting noisily over his superior’s health. Edgeworth spent an agonizing minute with his eyes screwed shut, his trousers open and his legs knotted, convincing Gumshoe that, yes, he was ill, but, no, he should definitely not summon a doctor, and that all would be well again in a moment.
There was nothing pleasurable in these minutes or hours of torment. They were distracting, distressing, humiliating; shameless displays of the child infiltrating the world of the man. But there was a greater evil hiding behind each of them, one which Edgeworth could scarcely articulate, even to himself: After each, the universe had realigned in ecstasy. These were trials, ultimately. Trials through which he’d always managed to pass mostly unscathed, and for which he was always handsomely rewarded. There was no purer pleasure than that of success and relief; nothing in the world that was more perfectly, crudely divine.
“There’s nothing.”
“What?” Phoenix asked. Edgeworth focused his gaze upon his companion. Phoenix had finished about half of his glass of juice and was wearing every mark of the bewildered.
“There have been no ‘difficult times’ I can think of,” Edgeworth replied easily. “No ‘problems’ in the past.”
“Wha—really?” The stare persisted; the bewilderment didn’t shift. If anything, it became more pronounced in the lines of the frown and the angle of the eyebrows on Phoenix’s bronzed and handsome face. “But that doesn’t—”
“Yes. I’ve told you how I learned to regulate my fluid intake, have I not?” Edgeworth picked up his full glass of water as in emphasis. “I’ve never had a ‘problem...’ not until you began trying to work it out, at any rate.”
“Wait—wait—are you saying that... I’ve been causing your problem?” Phoenix asked. One could almost make out the white all the way around his deep blue irises.
“I wouldn’t say that you made it manifest,” Edgeworth returned, speaking each word with very pointed deliberation over the cold glass in his hand. “However... it’s impossible for me to deny the correlation between your efforts and my proclivities being labelled as such.”
Phoenix took some moments to reply. “I’d probably be really mad if I understood what you said just now,” he groused into the arm of his sweatshirt. “Wouldn’t I?”
Edgeworth sighed, “I simply said that this is no ‘problem’ for me. You called it one, and it became one; you manipulated certain situations, and they became problematic.” He paused, thought for a moment, and went on, “I’ve come to the conclusion that our efforts are wasted. After all, under normal circumstances, this is simply... not a problem.”
There was a long pause, in which Edgeworth hazarded a sip of his water and Phoenix brooded. When the latter set down his glass, it was with a harsh clack against the glass-topped table; the sound paired with Phoenix’s sudden ascension to his feet made Edgeworth startle and square his shoulders against an urge to shrink back.
“‘Not a problem,’ eh?... Hold on a sec,” he muttered, and made his way out and into the kitchen. Edgeworth placed his glass down and watched the door, listening hard to the quiet openings and closings of cabinets and rustling noises from within.
He couldn’t cease staring as Phoenix returned, laden with a large duffel bag and a violently blue pillow.
“Mind if I stay the night?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: The music I was thinking of for the Baroque concert is Handel's Water Music Suite No. 2 in D Major (particularly the latter part of the first movement) but I could think of no way to integrate that that didn't sound terribly on-the-nose. |
A/N: For any of you looking for omorashi content: It will come. I promise. And I've been promising for a while, I know, but I've gotten really distracted by wanting to explore all of the potential twists and turns and things relating to the character and relationship development here that I didn't feel were satisfactorily explained up to this point, so... here's this.
Warning: Sexual content.
Chapter IX: Pro Hac Vice
“No.”
“Miles, I haven’t—”
“No.”
“If you’d just let me—”
“Did you not hear me?” Miles asked tartly. “I said, ‘no.’”
“Did you ‘not hear’ me?” Phoenix shot back, and threw down the pile of soft things in his arms. “You haven’t even let me explain!”
“There’s nothing to explain.” Miles returned, closely observing the rim of his glass. “You’re demanding the impossible.”
“It’s not ‘impossible,’ and we—”
“Really?” Miles reached into his jacket pocket and glanced at his watch. “It’s just past eleven. Staying ‘the night’ implies to me that you plan to remain, from this moment, until you find a suitable hour to leave tomorrow morning. And you expect—” he swallowed convulsively, “you expect that I shall be able to endure for that long?”
“No, I don’t,” Phoenix said easily, and flopped back down onto the couch. “Isn’t that the point? Miles... we didn’t start all of this just so you could prove to me that you’re the perfect model of restraint.” He paused, and went on under his breath, “I think I’ve seen enough of that, to be honest.”
“But this... I’ve never... Phoenix,” Miles sighed. “Please. Try to understand: I’ve never... done this. With you here; with anyone. Not in years. I don’t think that we can simply agree that this will be the day and expect it to be so.”
“Ah, well, that’s where you’re wrong, Miles!” Phoenix wagged his finger sagely. “Not about the ‘day’ thing. About you never doing it while I’m around.”
Several cold, quiet moments passed between them, in which Miles’ face totally drained of color, and the frozen line of his gaze barely grazed Phoenix’s left temple.
“W-what?!” He whispered.
“Don’t look so shocked, Miles!” Phoenix said, and laid a firm hand on his partner’s knee. “It’s what we’ve been working toward. Isn’t it?”
“W-well... y-yes, but....” Miles was visibly trembling. The hand that Phoenix wrested from him on the way to covering his mouth was shaky and cold; Phoenix pressed it against his own cheek instead.
“It’s all right, really,” he said, low and even. “I didn’t mind. And have an idea that I think’ll help you today. I’m sure we’ll be able to make this work!”
“B-but... when...?” Miles trailed off. Phoenix spoke gently.
“Oh, it was a while back,” he said, “right after our first session. I left, and waited around for a while. You locked the door, and—”
“—oh my God—”
“—I can only assume that—”
“Phoenix,” Miles breathed heavily. Phoenix pressed the shaking hand harder against his cheek, and leaned forward, nearly closing the space between them.
“It’s all right,” Phoenix said again, firmer, but with no trace of anger. He made sure of it. When Miles’ gaze focused again, and his eyes drifted back from the spot they’d fixed upon, Phoenix smiled.
“Did you—” Miles had to close his eyes in an attempt to force the question out, “did you—er—hear—anything?”
“No,” Phoenix said, though he wondered if a little lie wouldn’t have been better to prove his point. “But do you think I’d be angry if I did? Do you think I care?” Miles shook his head, seeming to struggle with an answer. “I don’t. Not at all. I mean, literally everyone does it! And I don’t care about anything you might do. Trust me—I’ve seen it all. I’ve been in a bathroom with Larry, for God’s sake! I don’t care if you’re loud, or if you take a long time, or—”
“Please, please... stop,” Miles interrupted. “I... understand. And I thank you. But it isn’t enough, simply... knowing these things. You know that, I think.”
“But... you get it, right?” Phoenix said carefully, treading as lightly as he could around the periphery of his boyfriend’s eggshell pride. “I haven’t been treating you any differently since I was there. Have I?” Miles shook his head again, tamely this time. “I know that I haven’t been angry or upset with you. You’ve seen that, right?”
Somehow, even though he’d allowed days’ worth of silences to pass between them in the last few weeks, that day, Miles managed to take even longer to answer anything—even questions that Phoenix read as extremely straightforward. Still, after several seconds, after quite a few beats and a moment or two besides, a voice did emerge from him. A small and timid one; one that Phoenix had had too much experience with recently.
“Yes. I... understand.” The words might have been whispered by the lightest seaside breeze. “But—”
“Miles... Miles, Miles, Miles, Miles, Miles,” Phoenix said emphatically, “no more ‘buts.’”
“Mmm.” Miles shifted, and moved his free hand to cover his lips.
“You’ve already beaten this thing.”
“Hmm.”
“And I’ve known about it for weeks. And I don’t care.” Another pause passed between them. “So...?”
“What?” Miles said sharply.
“So... can I stay? Are we doing this?” Phoenix said, springing to his feet and hoping that he looked enthusiastic and confident rather than the silly and melodramatic he felt. Miles looked up at him, looked down again, and then sighed audibly into the space somewhere in the middle.
“Yes... I suppose we are.” Phoenix barely resisted a fist-pump, and settled instead for sitting again, smiling into Miles’ face and pressing a kiss to his distinctly wan cheek.
“Great!” Phoenix declared.
“Great,” Miles replied, with a little less enthusiasm. “Yes.”
And it was. Sort of. They managed as well as they had last time, anyhow, wiling away the rest of the morning and a fair bit of the afternoon with a bizarre combination of chess interspersed with hands of five-card draw (placed conveniently whenever Phoenix was having trouble devising his next move.) As always, Phoenix tried to keep up the conversation, but this time in particular, he found Miles stubbornly grave. What was he thinking? Was he really convinced that he’d lost something because of Phoenix’s decision to hang around that one time? How was it any different from Phoenix being, well, anywhere when he used the toilet?
Phoenix worked at steering conversation toward things that would keep his mind off of it: work, the latest TV shows; the baffling scoring system he’d devised to determine the ultimate winner of a chess-and-poker tournament. But it was difficult, particularly when Miles refused to contribute. When he finally did say something, it wasn’t exactly the diverting conversation Phoenix had in mind:
“So... these items you retrieved from my kitchen,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the duffel bag and pillow with a crimson pawn. “Where did they come from?”
“Oh, those?” Phoenix asked with a hint of laughter. “Yeah, I’ve kinda been sneaking the overnight things in since our first ‘session.’ Threw them in one of your empty cabinets. Thought I’d need to spring the ‘overnight’ idea on you sometime; hoped you wouldn’t notice.” He laughed again, and followed his boyfriend’s slim, nimble fingers as they approached the board and screwed his pawn into place. “Guess you didn’t!”
Miles locked his gaze on the chessboard and tied his arms back together across his chest. “No.”
“Makes sense, I guess. You don’t use your kitchen that much, do you?”
Miles’ hand migrated to his mouth. “Not really.”
“Shame. It’s really nice. That high-tech stove and all! Maybe sometime I should come over and—”
“Are you going to make a move at some stage, Phoenix?” Miles interrupted. Phoenix looked down on his line of blue royalty, then back up into Miles’ steely eyes. A grin spread across his face as a thought blossomed in his head. It had been too long since he’d done it....
“‘Make a move...’? Oh, yeah. Of course.” As he spoke, his hand drifted across the board to the elaborate knot in the tie at Miles’ throat. “Thanks for reminding me, babe.”
Before he could respond—pretty easy, given how much time Miles took to respond to anything those days—Phoenix executed a quick step-around the board and kissed Miles soundly on the lips. Rather than the submission and careful reciprocation he was used to, however, there immediately came a hum of protest, and Miles pushed him away with a sharp breath and a furrowed brow.
“What’s wrong?” Phoenix asked at once, with a bit of brow furrowing of his own. Miles closed his eyes.
“I don’t know.” Phoenix, reasonably sure that the silence would do all the prompting he needed for Miles to talk, said nothing. “It’s just, I... er... have to.”
“‘Have to...’?” Miles shook his head, sighed, and the inevitable wash of color overtook his face.
“Have to... void, and....”
“Ah. Well, that’s fine!” Phoenix took his seat again and leaned across the chess table, knocking over his king and bishop in the process. Ignoring Miles’ huff of distain, he said, “I’ve got an idea to help today, remember? One of those things I’ve read about on the sites. I know you might think it’s silly, but... I really think it could help!”
“Oh, yes?” Miles asked, righting Phoenix’s pieces as he spoke. “What’s that?”
“I thought we could just... you know....” Great, he was starting to have trouble talking about it! “I thought you could run the tap or something. The sink, you know. The bathtub too, if you want.”
Miles seemed to consider the proposition. That is to say, he didn’t immediately give one of his famously sardonic laughs or trio of tsks and reject it. He just remained silent, pushing each of his and Phoenix’s chess pieces back into alignment with the middle of its respective square. When, at last, he appeared to be satisfied with his work, he looked up and locked eyes with Phoenix over the rim of his glasses.
“All right.” Phoenix grinned again.
“All right! Great!” They both stood, one with considerably more ease than the other. Phoenix walked close beside Miles, and paused between the bathroom and the front door. “Um... do you want me to go?”
“Yes,” Miles said briskly. His fingers were tapping already, and he’d begun rocking back and forth slightly. Had they waited too long? It had been quite a while.... “Just... wait out there.”
After having made attempts like this in the past—minus the use of the taps, a suggestion Phoenix had reserved, worrying that he’d insult Miles’ efforts on his own—Phoenix wasn’t especially hopeful. They’d done and drunk a lot over the past few weeks, but, still, every attempt ended with Miles urgently calling it off, and Phoenix having to dash off somewhere down the street until he was given the dismal “all-clear” to return.
So it was really no surprise when Miles tore open the front door a few minutes after Phoenix had left it. Phoenix looked up from his game of phone-based Tetris to find Miles flushed and breathing quick and tight. Not good signs.
“I did it.” Miles’ gaze was once again on the floor, and his words came out so fast that Phoenix shook his head in surprise.
“Wait a second,” he said, stowing his phone back into his pocket, “did you say... you did it? It worked?”
“Yes.” Miles still seemed quite uncomfortable; still very restless about the legs and fingers. Phoenix put it down to the admitted awkwardness of his report. After a chuckle or two, Phoenix pulled Miles into a hug to compensate; Miles grumbled and squirmed a little in his arms, but was smiling slightly when Phoenix let him go again.
“This is great! I mean, if this works for you... I don’t see why it shouldn’t keep working! What do you think?”
“Yes, I think you’re right,” Miles agreed softly, pulling Phoenix gently inside the apartment by his hoodie sleeve.
“There are taps in every bathroom, after all!” Phoenix said, moving at last. Miles closed the door quickly behind him.
“Yes. You’re right. It’s a practical solution. Thank you for the suggestion, Phoenix.” Miles raised his gaze a bit, and smiled again, and suddenly reached for his wallet in his blazer’s inside pocket. “I know—you should go and get us a bottle of champagne. To celebrate.”
“To cele—what, the fact that you used the toilet with me two doors away?” Glad as he was to know that they’d cracked the code, “celebration” struck Phoenix as a bit much.
“Not... that... precisely... but....” Miles floundered for a second, looking through and counting out his bills with focused intensity. “F-for... our moving in together. You’ve mentioned it before, have you not? It would seem to be a....” He floundered a bit more, and waved his cash-laden hand as if to grasp the phrase he was searching for. “A... tenable proposition, now.”
“Oh, yeah!” Phoenix gave himself a light smack to the forehead in mock reprimand. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! We’ll have to start making plans soon, won’t we?”
“Yes.” Miles handed Phoenix several twenties, and Phoenix grinned. “There’s a decent liquor store not two blocks from here. You should be able to find something suitable.”
“Want to come with me? This is our celebration, isn’t it?” Phoenix reached out and hooked his arm around Miles’, thinking to drag him out the door by his side. “Maybe we could get an early dinner or—”
“No, thank you,” Miles declined, and quietly reclaimed his arm. But his subtle smile remained. “I’d like to prepare some things. I’ll still be here on your return.”
“Oh, okay,” Phoenix pouted, and reached out to give Miles a parting kiss. “I’ll be back soon.”
With that, Phoenix departed with a smile on his face (the no-doubt goofy kind that tugged pleasantly at both corners of his mouth) and a spring in his step. Moving in with Miles! It was like a dream come true. It was, in fact. He’d dreamed about waking up beside his boyfriend enough times. The fact that they’d managed to bring it into reality, and so simply, it was just... perfect.
Locating a perfect champagne was nowhere near as simple, though it was a little less time-consuming. Phoenix evaded the retailer, headed for the coolers, and checked out the prices and the descriptions on his own. After a half hour or so of painstaking review, he chose the best-sounding champagne that neared the amount Miles had given him and headed back to the apartment.
On Phoenix’s return, Miles was much more settled. Phoenix found him entering the living room just as he closed the apartment door with a plate of cheese, strawberries and crackers and a pair of slim champagne glasses. There were no more blushes on his face or tremors in his hands. He simply smiled a little, placed the things down, and swept over to press a kiss to Phoenix’s lips.
Phoenix nearly dropped the champagne.
“Oh! Uh... what?” He exclaimed as they parted. The paper bag around the wine crinkled loudly as he held it closer to his chest.
“Yes, Phoenix?”
Phoenix nearly dropped the bottle a second time.
He was used to being greeted, of course. By Miles Edgeworth, even. He was used to a lot of things; used to quite a few interactions that might take place between him and his boyfriend. However... he wasn’t used to that suave, sonorous tone Miles had chosen. Not outside the courtroom, anyhow. It was enough to make the hands shake and the knees instantly weak.
“Uh... champagne!” Phoenix declared, and held out the bottle for Miles’ inspection. He was in his element. Miles was magnificent in his element: sharp eyes flitting down the black-and-gold label, long hands holding the bottle with firm, assured elegance; smirking just the barest bit as he doubtlessly divined something Phoenix could never have guessed at.
“Laurent-Perrier... a fine choice,” he said, still in That Voice, and handed the bottle back.
Phoenix raised his eyebrows. “Wha—?”
“I thought you might like to do the honors,” Miles said, taking up both of the champagne glasses in one of his hands. “This success was your doing, after all.”
Still lingering somewhere on the faraway side of dazed, Phoenix nodded and turned his attention to the bottle. Its cork yielded with a small, satisfying pop, and he poured out a glass for each of them as Miles allowed him. Once they both had their glasses and the bottle was placed down, Miles offered yet another smile and a word.
“Santé,” he said, touched the rim of his glass to Phoenix’s, and took a small sip of champagne. Phoenix intended to reply, but, finding his mouth dry, he took a rather larger sip of his own.
It took Phoenix a while—too long, he decided—to figure out what had been missing. The fact was that he hadn’t really been “missing” anything. He’d dedicated himself to helping Miles as much as Miles agreed to be helped, and Phoenix sailed through all the difficulty and anxiety with as much support and love as he could muster. It had all been fine, if frustrating. But this... Phoenix couldn’t explain it. It just... hit him, and, once he’d realized what it was, he found he wanted it even more.
Miles suddenly exuded confidence. Real, awesome confidence that brought an alluring glint to his eyes and a firm set to his jaw. It was everywhere, all at once: in his gaze, in his hands; in the tilt of his mouth and the breadth of his posture. No more shrinking, no more intense studies of random objects around his apartment—just Miles, exactly as he was meant to be known.
Phoenix was finished with his first glass of wine before Miles was done assessing his own; when he let out a brief, low moan of appreciation, Phoenix had to suppress a gasp.
“Very fine... finer than I expected, for something so cheap,” Miles remarked. His gaze, which had become so well-acquainted with the floor recently, remained resolutely on Phoenix. “Citrus flowers and apples... very fresh. You chose well.”
“W-well, I, uh... thanks. That’s good,” Phoenix muttered. He supposed the wine was good. It tasted like champagne, anyway. He liked champagne.
“Thank you,” Miles murmured, and somehow brought himself even closer to Phoenix without actually touching him. With no preamble at all, he pressed a hand to the back of Phoenix’s neck, and brought their lips into warm, champagne-laced contact. Phoenix’s hands clasped together around his glass to keep it from dropping, and to keep from grabbing Miles—or himself—violently. Thankfully, Miles smiled anyway when he pulled back, and took both champagne glasses to set them down on the coffee table before speaking again.
“I want to thank you, Phoenix,” he said lowly. Phoenix burbled for a moment before actually articulating anything.
“I thought you had already.” Miles laughed slightly and offered Phoenix the plate of cheeses, crackers and fruit.
“Hardly,” he drawled, watching Phoenix closely as he selected an especially large strawberry. Once he had, Miles placed the plate down again and stepped impossibly closer. “You’ve righted my life again, Phoenix.” Phoenix raised his eyebrows.
“Really?” He said, muffled, through the fruit in his mouth.
“Yes, ‘really.’ I shall be able to live much easier with the advent of... this,” Miles said, with a vague wave of his hand. “I’m very grateful to you for it.”
“Well, I mean, we both did it, didn’t we? Not just me. You had to actually do it,” Phoenix added. It was becoming increasingly difficult to think straight—if he’d ever really been able to—what with the way Miles’ eyes were boring into him.
“Phoenix, don’t you think you deserve some thanks?” Miles asked, walking his free hand slowly up the front of Phoenix’s hoodie. “After all you’ve done; after all the hours you’ve wasted on this... farce?”
“W-well... not ‘wasted,’ really,” Phoenix stuttered, as deft fingers undid the tie at his throat and began pulling the freed zipper down. “I was... trying to help you....”
“I think you deserve something.” Every one of Miles’ words poured into Phoenix’s ear; every one dripped, hot, from his ear to his throat to his heart, down across his ribs, and finally pooled heavily deep in his stomach. “Don’t you want it?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, I—b-but...!” Phoenix found himself at a strange edge. Yes, he wanted. Of course he did. He’d wanted since his return with the wine and Miles’ incredible choice of tone. He’d wanted since the first time he’d laid eyes on Miles in court. He’d wanted the moment he first read the notice of a “Demon Prosecutor” in the newspaper, and saw the sharp lines of Miles’ face as they’d been sculpted into adulthood. But they’d never even talked about sex before. Not really. They’d kissed, made out, even, but... this felt strange. Phoenix couldn’t place why, but something about this as their first time made his stomach squirm.
“But...?” Miles asked expectantly, resting the palms of both of his hands on Phoenix’s chest. Phoenix had almost forgotten that he’d begun speaking, and his brain took a good few seconds to access the thought he’d been trying to express.
“B-but... are you... sure?” Even then, Phoenix wasn’t quite sure he’d recaptured the entire thing. “I mean... I thought you hadn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Miles said lowly, and leaned in for another kiss. A whisper away from Phoenix’s mouth, he breathed, “I want to do this for you.”
Phoenix wasn’t present for some time. Maybe he was there, physically—the sensations lit up his brain and his body and would later burn themselves into him as delicious memories—but consciousness, thought and reason escaped him for countless minutes. Next he knew, he was sitting on the edge of Miles’ bed, hands pressed into the incredibly soft comforter under him, and Miles was leaning over him, tall and dark and imposing in the twilight. Both of Miles’ hands were on him: one supporting his head, holding him up in anticipation of more kisses, and the other was pressed into the side of his neck.
“I want to do this for you,” Miles repeated. He might have said a hundred other things since the last time he’d said it, but, to Phoenix’s mind, the statement was starting to sound like a mantra. As he spoke, one of Miles’ hands moved up into Phoenix’s hair, and the other trailed down, over his shirtless chest (when did that happen?) down over his non-existent abs and onto the top of his thigh. Miles stared directly down into Phoenix’s eyes. Phoenix stared back.
“Are you really sure?” Phoenix asked on a heavy breath. Miles nodded, and his hand lightly squeezed Phoenix’s leg, laying his intent as bare as Phoenix’s chest. Struggling not to babble, Phoenix continued, “I mean... I can’t promise you I won’t just fall asleep after. That tends to... haaappen...” Phoenix groaned as Miles squeezed again, the inside of his thigh this time, “t-to me....”
Miles didn’t reply, but dragged his other hand purposefully down Phoenix’s frame, until both came to rest at the waistband of his pants. Once there, he looked up at Phoenix again, then leaned down and pulled them down quickly, more like a schoolboy prank than undressing his lover.
“I want to give this to you,” Miles said, deep in his chest. His eyes, focused blazingly upon Phoenix’s face before, seemed now to be glued to the bulge in his boxers. “I do.”
And then their lips were pressed together again and a hand was slipping into Phoenix’s underwear, and he only had half a second to consider just how ridiculous the scene must have looked—he, mostly-naked, writhing on the edge of the bed; his boyfriend hovering over him in a bespoke jacket and tie like he had a fancy wedding to get to—before Miles wrapped mysteriously slick fingers around him, and he was gone.
He could never have anticipated just how much that firmness, that persistence, that confidence in each of Miles’ movements would affect him. Whenever he’d imagined himself and Miles, it had been him in a dominant role, him pressing kisses to breathless lips and wrapping a hand around a hot, hard cock. It just followed from the way things were in their private life. But this... he’d never imagined it, never thought Miles was capable of this kind of glorious control. It brought Phoenix closer to completion faster than... ever. Within minutes, he was gasping against Miles’ lips; he grasped at the shoulders of his tailored jacket and his back and hips made hard, shallow thrusts into Miles’ perfect hand, and—
“Oh, Miles... yes...!” |
Tai had been traveling through the desert with Sora for what felt like an eternity. They had scattered earlier when they were attacked by an impossibly large group of Numemon, no doubt sent by Etemon to disrupt their plans (as if they had a plan, Tai thought bitterly), but if they were going to stand any chance of stopping Etemon they would have to regroup. Fortunately for them, and unfortunately, Tai was sure, for the other groups, he and Sora had been the designated water carriers on their little desert expedition. They had kept well hydrated in the sweltering heat, although by now Tai had emptied the large flask he carried. Despite the generous intake of water, he was still somehow parched after breathing the hot dry air for a further half hour. Tai had needed to pee for a couple hours, and his bladder and mouth dueled for supremacy until he decided that his increasing thirst was worse than his increasingly uncomfortable bladder. “Hey Sora, could I get some of your water? Mine’s out.” At first Sora didn’t seem to hear him, she seems distracted, Tai thought, though God knows what could possibly distract her out here. Biyomon nudged her master and broke her out of her trance as Tai repeated his request. “Oh, uh” Sora looked guiltily in the other direction, “I sort of drank all mine too” she said with a nervous giggle. “What?! You had like, twice as much water as me to begin with!” Tai was incredulous, how could such a petite girl drink that much.
As they continued their interminable march towards the desert edge (assuming Agumon did, in fact, know north from south based on the sun’s position) both pre-teens began to slow down. Tai slowed because his bladder had gotten noticeably worse, and it was becoming difficult to walk properly. He occasionally grabbed at his crotch when he was certain Sora and Biyomon weren’t looking (Agumon was well aware of Tai’s predicament but mercifully said nothing) and was grateful that Sora also seemed to be slowing her pace. Tai had always been pee shy, but the digital world wasn’t exactly flush with bathrooms and he and the others had learned to discreetly go behind a tree when needed. Trouble was there were no trees in sight. If he were with one of the boys, or even any other girl, he would have mastered his embarrassment and asked them to not look for a minute, but he had to be stuck with Sora, of all people. She was so pretty, and Tai always seemed to get warm and flustered when they were alone. Suddenly he felt Agumon tugging at his sleeve and pointing ahead. He looked up and saw Sora, incredibly, pushing her knees together and doing what appeared to be a potty dance. Of course! Tai had a sudden revelation, if I have to pee this bad I can only imagine how badly she must need to go. Feeling Tai’s eyes Sora turned around and blushed furiously. “Sorry Tai, I guess I shouldn’t have drunk so much. I’ll be ok though!” She smiled unconvincingly, “lets just hurry to the desert edge.” Tai had a rush of emotions at this revelation, but mostly he felt deep sympathy for his unacknowledged crush, and anger at his powerlessness to help her. At least he could just whip it out and go if it got bad enough, but there was absolutely no way Sora would take her pants and undies off in an open desert with clear visibility for miles around.
Tai took the lead to give Sora some privacy behind him, walking slowly as Biyomon gave her the encouragement that Tai was too embarrassed to give. It would be too cruel for him to whip it out and pee now, with Sora in such dire straits, so he gritted his teeth and marched on, forcing himself to walk upright even though he wanted nothing more than to stop and grab himself. He realized that Sora’s footsteps had stopped and he turned around. Sora was bent over, tears in her eyes, “Tai, I, I don’t think I’m going to make it, oh my God I really have to go.” Tai’s eyes went wide as he glanced at her crotch area, where there was already a wet spot, and Tai realized with a jolt that she had already peed herself a little. This can’t be happening Tai’s mind was racing, there’s no way a 12 year old girl is going to pee their pants, even Kari’s never done that, and she’s 8! “Hey now,” Tai felt a deep upwell of compassion and a protective urge which quieted his own screaming bladder, “I really have to pee too, see?” His protective instinct overpowering his pride, Tai allowed himself to do an undignified potty dance in front of her. “But I…” Sora gasped and doubled over again “I drank so much more than you and… I’m sorry Tai, I don’t think I can hold…” Tai stood stunned as the wet spot on her crotch began to grow rapidly she’s, she’s actually wetting her pants. Sora began to cry in earnest now as she sat in a puddle, Biyomon helpless to comfort her. Tai wanted her to stop crying, wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything in his young life, and he had a sudden, insane idea to make it happen. After a brief inner battle between his pride and his heart, those twin pillars of all teen boys, his heart won out and Tai relaxed his aching bladder. His brown shorts got darker in spurts, before he finally worked up the nerve to carry out his plan and started fully going to the bathroom right then and there, wetting his pants for the first time since he was a little kid. Sora was so shocked she actually stopped crying as rivers of pee flowed down both of Tai’s legs.
At that moment Tai wasn’t paying attention to anything but the divine relief he felt in finally freeing his long-suffering bladder. As his stream slowed to a trickle Tai came back down to Earth (well, digi-Earth at any rate) and was nearly as shocked as Sora. What the hell was I thinking?! Did I seriously just pee myself? Even though it was semi-deliberate, Tai was deeply embarrassed and looked around to make sure Kari and Matt weren’t on the horizon (he wasn’t sure which person he would less like to see right now). But he heard a peal of laughter ripple through the desert and turned back to Sora, who was wiping her nose and eyes and, incredibly, smiling. “I guess seeing me pee was too much for your bladder huh? I thought boys were supposed to be stronger down there,” she teased, continuing in a baby voice “what would Kari say if she knew her big brother had a wittle accident.” Tai blushed, but on some level enjoyed her teasing, certainly far more than her tears, and replying by sticking out his tongue, “Psh, this is all your fault, whatever, in this sun we’ll be dry in 30 minutes anyway.” Tai helped her up, noting that the sand was sticking to her soaking wet jeans. “Anyway, lets never mention this to anyone, ok? It will be our secret!” Sora smiled weakly at him, “You don’t have to tell me twice, as if I want anyone knowing I peed myself…and Tai?” “what?” he replied as he stared walking next to Agumon, “thanks.” Although Sora couldn’t see his face, Tai was beaming ear to ear. |
14 year old Shinji Ikari slammed his fist into Eva-01 in frustration. After the most recent encounter with Sandalphon, during which both he and Asuka had nearly met an untimely, magma-induced end Shinji had become determined to be a better pilot. Shinji’s feelings towards Asuka were far too complicated for his adolescent brain to sort through, but he was certain that he wanted her respect and attention, it was the only explanation for him piloting his Eva unit into a volcano to rescue her. “Shinji!” He snapped back to attention as he heard Misato shouting at him. “Come on kid, I know you can do better than this…” Shinji sighed and looked over at her from the VR training module; he was exhausted, hungry, and he needed to pee, but he had swore to Asuka that he would finish the mock mission. As he looked over to the railing on the platform above he saw Asuka glancing at him while pretending to check her phone. She and Rei had finished nearly an hour ago. He was furious to see Rei chatting amiably with Gendo, his biological father. Gendo caught Shinji staring at him and walked over to Misato. “You should just call it a day, he’s never going to be able to get this.” He spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry around the room and Shinji reddened in embarrassment and anger.
“Misato!” He was horrified when his voice cracked as he shouted, but he hurried on, “set the training module to EX12!” Misato and the other girls gave him a stunned expression, “A-are you sure kid? You haven’t even been able to handle EX9…” Shinji glowered at this reminder, but he felt a cold fury which compelled him to show his father and Asuka that he could be every bit the pilot that Rei was. Misato hesitated even after Shinji confirmed; at that level the simulation would deliver full physical responses to his body mirroring the actual responses of the combat. The simulation would not let him be killed, obviously, but he could be seriously injured all the same. The idea was to simulate the true life-or-death circumstances of combat. His father laughed, “if the idiot wants to show off let him try, maybe he’ll learn something.” Misato sighed and set the initiation timer. As the cockpit closed and the VR screens activated he tried to adjust his boxers; he was wearing shorts instead of his regular suit because (a) it was only training and (b) it was hot as hell in the training cockpit. Shinji had kept himself hydrated, but he was paying the price at the end of the day as he sat with an uncomfortably bulging bladder. The simulation started as he was still trying to get comfortable, but he quickly forgot about his body and was fully immersed in the mission.
It was a multi-angel attack on a giant city. Shinji maneuvered his Evangelion through spiraling skyscrapers keeping low to the ground, hoping to catch the nearest by surprise from below. The gambit seemed to work until the second angel, charged him, forcing Shinji to disengage. This simulation was by far the most intense Shinji had ever encountered. As the training levels increased, both the difficulty and the realism scaled up, and he was surprised at the strength of the jolt he received from that haptic feedback mechanisms, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he had been struck. As he worked desperately to avoid the onslaught he felt a knot of terror forming in his belly. The haptic shocks were very real, and at this level he knew that he could land in the hospital if he wasn’t careful. Honestly he hadn’t given a ton of thought to this idea beyond the simple goals of pleasing Asuka and proving his maturity to his father, and he was now seriously regretting his impulsive decision. The third angel had stopped terrorizing the city to join the Shinji-hunt as well, and Shinji was barely able to avoid a devastating blindside attack.
If Shinji’s brain had been working he would have realized that he was terrified, which for him was nothing new. In the past, however, the peril of his friends had driven him to courage. Here he was alone. He knew in the back of his mind that there were no real people to save, and without that mental fortification he was driven into a panic even beyond that of an actual battle. Forgetting his pride he screamed for Misato to turn off the simulation. When no end came to the simulation Shinji felt tears sting his eyes and regained a small measure of composure as he realized he was starting to cry with Asuka and the others all watching him. Choking back his tears he spun around and made a dangerous gambit to break the enemy formation, a gambit which, while brave, failed utterly. As the three angels quickly regained formation and charged Shinji realized that he was doomed. As he gave into terror he was vaguely aware of warmth spreading under him, but he had to think, he had to… The simulation froze suddenly, as his unit was hit. Shinji felt no impact but was shaking uncontrollably as the cockpit slowly opened. As Shinji realized how badly he had focused on not bursting into tears; that would undoubtedly come later when he was alone. But as he looked up he realized they were all staring, stunned, at his crotch. Shinji turned his thoughts to the region faster than his eyes could travel, he felt damp, no, soaking wet, but why… Suddenly Shinji realized that he had wet his pants during the exercise. Even now thin trails of urine were running down the seat and pooling into the floor beneath him. He didn’t have to pee at all anymore, meaning he must have completely emptied his bladder. As the force of his predicament hit him, Shinji couldn’t hold back the tears. After setting out to prove his maturity he had pissed his pants in fear, at age 14, on a fucking training mission! Nobody spoke, but the face of his father conveyed more than words ever could. Ignoring Misato as she tried to say something, Shinji ran, and didn’t stop running until he was completely out of breath. Somehow, despite all of terrible things that had happened to him in the last year, THIS was the worst he had ever felt, and he knew it would be a long time before he would be able to look his father in the face again.
Edited April 14, 2020 by heimdal
(see edit history) |
Goten wolfed down his breakfast in record time, ready to head out for a full-day training session with his older brother Gohan. With the martial arts tournament fast approaching, there was little time for he and Gohan to whip themselves into fighting shape. Goten had never met their father Goku, but knowing how much he valued fighting ability Goten was determined to make a good first impression at the tournament. The training today would be especially fun; while helping Chi-Chi with some cleaning he had discovered Gohan’s old Saiyan armor from his Namekian adventures, and Gohan had agreed to let him spar in it! Gohan chugged the remainder of his OJ and raced upstairs. It took Gohan the better part of 15 minutes to get the armor on him, but the fabric seemed to conform to his shape like some sort of memory foam, but more fabric-y. Unfortunately, Chi-Chi walked in on them just as Gohan was finishing up. Goten could see his mother’s emotion jump rapidly from shock to confusion, before finally settling on fury. Both boys apparently having the same thought, they wordlessly flew through the open window to safety as the shouting started. During their trek to the wilderness Goten realized that in his excitement he had forgotten to use the bathroom after waking up, and his bladder was letting him know that it was not happy about the unexpected break in routine. He was considering stopping to go in some bushes, but Gohan seemed anxious to train, and Goten didn’t want to annoy him this early in the day. Besides, Goten hated having to stop playing to pee; he was always waiting to the last minute, but it wasn’t like he had ever actually peed his pants. Ya, he thought, I’ll just hold it until we stop for lunch.
The boys trained hard, drinking water at the stream often to stay hydrated. Even at Super Saiyan Goten was no match for Gohan, but he could feel himself getting better with each engagement. Goten started to feel his bladder more and more despite the entertainment of fighting. He was about to ask when lunch was when Gohan suddenly broke off mid charge, a look of panic on his face. “Oh crap, Goten do you know what time it is?” When the younger boy shook his head Gohan raced back to his cell phone and shouted in alarm, “Oh no, oh no no no, I promised I would call her at noon, 5 missed calls, man I am so screwed…” Goten looked inquiringly at his brother, who was muttering to himself as he dialed a number and turned away from Goten. Goten figured it probably had to do with Gohan’s terrifying crush, a fear which was confirmed as he heard Videl’s voice reach clear across their camp from the phone. Gohan sighed and shouted to him, “hey bro, lets take out lunch break now ok? We’ll keep training after.”
Goten felt sympathy for his brother (were all girls like his mother and Videl? Why bother) but had his own pressing issue to take care of. The break in the action had made him even more aware of his aching bladder. He hadn’t peed since yesterday and had drank more than usual, and at age 9 even Goten’s normally strong his bladder could only stand so much. He pressed his legs together when Gohan wasn’t looking and decided he couldn’t put it off any longer. Goten flew off to some bushes, but when he reached for the zipper he realized that the armor was a solid blue fabric, no exit hatch in sight. Goten struggled to get the armor off, but he was terrified of breaking it and he had no clue how it was supposed to be properly removed. Remembering how long it had taken Gohan to equip him in the morning Goten shivered and redoubled his efforts to no avail. He considered calling Gohan over, but his brother was busy mollifying his flight student/semi-girlfriend. He looked longingly at the lake and threw his hands to his crotch as he felt a spurt escape. He considered flying into the water and letting it go; Trunks said it wasn’t peeing your pants if you were in the water already! But the thought of soiling his brother’s armor…no, he would just hold it until Gohan was finished. Unfortunately for Goten, Videl was not an easy woman to pacify, and by the time Gohan was finished (he had eaten while he talked), he was ready to get back to action. Goten started to ask him for help but stopped himself. He was 9 years old, more than old enough to hold his pee as long as he needed; his brother was counting on him and he wasn’t about to let him down by demanding a 30 minute break because he needed to go potty like a little baby.
The 9 year old’s confidence began to waver as their training resumed. Even flying in a straight line was proving immensely difficult as his bladder screamed for release, demanding his constant attention to prevent any more leakage. After a particularly brutal blow he felt some more warmth soak into the fabric hugging his crotch and suddenly realized he needed to go, NOW. He started doing a fully pee-pee dance and a light of revelation hit Gohan’s face. “Do, do you need to pee or something?” Gohan asked, rhetorically given how obviously desperate Goten was. Gohan sighed, “man, why do you always hold it so long, it’s going to take forever to deal with the armor…” Goten was near tears now from some combination of embarrassment and pain. “S-s-sorry Gohan, but I realllly have to go.” Gohan looked pensive, like he was about to say something but kept stopping himself. After what felt like an eternity to Goten he said “you know bro, there’s, uh, I mean that armor, well, uh.” Gohan looked uncomfortable as he continued while putting his index fingers together in front of him like a kid caught doing something bad, “can you keep a secret?” Goten noded vigorously, curious despite his throbbing bladder. “Look, when I wore that armor to Namek it didn’t exactly come with instructions, and there was no way in hell I was gonna ask Vegeta. Krillen helped me get it on but, well, it was a long day and there was so much going on that eventually I, uh, I sort of, well, you know.” When Goten gave him a blank stare Gohan sighed, “I, uh, I had an accident.” Goten looked incredulously at him, he couldn’t believe that his big brother had peed his pants when he was Goten’s age. Gohan reddened as he saw Goten stare “I didn’t know what to do! Dodoria, Jace, Ginyu… Anyway I’m telling you this because the armor, it, I don’t know, it absorbed it or used my aura to burn it off or something. It didn’t show up at all, I don’t think even Krillen knew, and he was right next to me when I did it! I’m just saying, I really don’t want to take a 30 minute break, and Mom isn’t going to go near that armor again so maybe…”
With a start, Goten realized his brother was giving him permission to go to the bathroom in his pants. After the initial shock, Goten started warming up to the idea. If he could just go to the bathroom without breaking training, it would be a game-changer. Gohan made some excuse to go text Videl and he flew off a short distance to give Goten some privacy. At first Goten wasn’t sure what to do. Did he just, let it go right in his pants? After looking around to make sure nobody was watching (Trunks would never stop teasing him if he found out), he took a breath and stopped holding it. At first the pee wouldn’t come; despite his extreme need some part of him knew that peeing your pants was wrong, and 9 years of potty training weren’t easy to overcome. A few seconds later though, Goten felt the liquid making its way though his dick, and after hovering on the tip for a moment it started to spill out. It started slowly but quickly expanded into a torrent, making a loud hiss as he peed so strongly that he was sure it would escape the fabric, but the pants held up. He felt warm and wet down both legs, so this is what it feels like to pee your pants he thought as he was overwhelmed with relief. As he finished and the stream turned to a trickle he blushed deeply thinking about what he had just done. There was definitely a faint pee smell, but Gohan was right that their mother would probably make him wash his own armor anyway, considering how much she hated it. Goten smiled to himself as he flew back to where his brother was waiting. Training sessions were going to be a lot more fun from now on… |
Prolouge:
The following characters belong to Seth MacFarlane, Fox and Disney. Margarette Chevapravatdumrong and Emily belong to me.
===================&=
It all starts out at a rave bar, Margaret Chevapravatdumrong and her sister Joyce (Joyce Kinney) were dancing to nice raving music.
"Hey Maggie", said Joyce, "I just thought of something, I bet if we turn around, we could be dancing to our dance partners we might bang with them at the restrooms."
"Alright Joycey, you on!" Margaret replied.
"Then on three" Said Joyce as they both count together at the same time. "One, two, three!" And they both turn around, Joyce turned around to find Bruce behind and he then noticed her.
"Oh hey there." Bruce said, "How ya doin' there?" "Want to dance with me and then make out?" Joyce asked Bruce. "What? Oh no! Sorry darlin, but I'm already hooked with Jeffery." "Shut up and with me!" Jeffrey called out offscreen.
Meanwhile with Margaret, She turned around to find three drunk guys, on the table. One was skinny with a huge chin, one was a slightly chubby African-American, and one is fat wearing glasses. They only were drinking glasses of beer. "Excuse me," Margaret asked, "Would any of you three want to dance and make out with me?
The three looked at her. "Called it!" Peter cried. "Call it!" Quagmire said next until her realized he's too late. "God dammit!" Quagmire said. "Then this means I'm the winner." He then joins in dancing with Margaret.
"But didn't he just marry Lois about 3 years ago?" Cleveland asked. "I don't think she'll notice, we've only came here to drink anyway."
Chapter 1: Emily’s Introduction
===================
15 Years Later, Present Day
(Emily's POV)
My name is Emily Violet Jane Lovegood, I was formally called Chevapravatdumrong. I resided in a small city of Providence, Road Island. Life was good back then, I wake from my bed and come to my kitchen for breakfast and give a good morning greeting to my mother, Margaret Lovegood.
EMILY: Morning mom!
I said to her./p
MARGARET: Morning sweety.
She would say back. She is one nice housewife and a great cook, I too can cook, it's in my gene, I once had a part time summer job at McBurgertown.
EMILY: Morning Dad!
I said to my father, Wilbur Lucius Lovegood.
WILBUR: Morning to you too, Emmy.
He was a very nice dad, although he's always busy with his business, he works as an executive for Cheesie Charlie's,
EMILY: Hey Jacky
And finally my little brother Jack Niel Lovegood.
JACK: Morning sis, I head that for dinner tomorrow is that we'll be having sewer rats cooked on the barbecue with a drop of feces on the side.
EMILY: JACK!
JACK: Relax sis, I'm only kidding.
He is such a teaser and a comedian, he always makes me laugh. after I get my breakfast, walk down the stairs of my appartment and then get on the bus for Providence High School, I'm in my second year, I have been on of the most likable students at Providence High, I have been a top student for cooking, archery, history and drama. I also enjoy making video blogs about myself and throughout my life sometimes when I feel like doing it, each time I make one, I would post them on youtube. My life was good, but today, things are about to change,
I was in the back seat on the driver side of a Mercedes sedan, I was sitting back listening to "Weenie and the Butt."
BUTT: This is "Weenie and the Butt" live, at Quahog's new Hotel, penthouse restaurant on 97.1.
CHORUS: WQHG, 97.1
BUTT: And that was "Material Girl" by Madonna. So what do we have coming up Weenie?
WEENIE: Well, Quahog's stand up comedian Styler Bootsy is will preform a live stand up act tonight at this restaurant. Oh, but it looks like everyone's leaving.
BUTT: Already? But they haven't got their authentic meal yet.
WEENIE: Excuse me, but why are you leaving? Didn't you know you haven't eaten yet?
HOLDEN CAULFIELD: Well, to answer this. Why would anyone want to watch Styler Bootsy's performance? Everyone hates him because he's never a funny person because he's nothing but a Phony! A big fat PHONEY!
WEENIE: Ooh, we forgot about his comedic rating, they always tell because, "He no funny!" Butt Slame!
[Cartoon sound effects was then heard.]
We were on our way to Newport when suddenly,
EMILY: OH MY GOD!
I shouted, a car full of drunk prep boys accidentally, crashed at my car, after it happened, I was blacked out for who knows how long I've been out.
Chapter 2: The Hospital
=======================
(Emily's POV)
I was awakened and everything looks blurry around, I don't hear anything except for beeping sounds which you would hear on a heart monitor, then I heard a voice.
DR. HARTMAN: Well, looks like little miss knockout has finally awake. Nurse, tell the morgue to cancel, it turns out she's recovering
NURSE: Yes Sir.
EMILY: *groaned* Ugh, what happened, where am I?
My blurry vision became focused after I asked.
DR. HARTMAN: Why your in the Quahog Hospital?
I was attached to an IV, my head and my arm was bandaged, I'm cladded in a turquoise hospital shirt and a strange padded feeling in the crotch.
EMILY: Who are you?
DR. HARTMAN: Oh come on, don't you remember me? I'm Dr. Elmer Hartman. (To himself) Great, I'm going to have to report that she has amnesia.
EMILY: Doctor, I can remember very well, I don't have amnesia. I'm Emily Violet Jane Lovegood, I'm born in Providence, Rhode Island, My favorite color is purple, my favorite food is Pepperoni Pizza, My parents names are- Wait, were are my parents?
DR. HARTMAN: (To himself) Oh, guess she don't have amnesia. (To Emily) How come you don't remember me?
EMILY: First off, I never even visited you, second, I asked you a question, where's my parents?!
DR. HARTMAN: Who's parents?
EMILY: My Parents! Wilbur and Magaret Lovegood...
DR. HARTMAN: Oh them? Well Im sorry I have to say this but, your parents and your brother are dead.
EMILY: What?!
DR. HARTMAN: They died in a car crash you in, they're now at the morgue, but we can't see them.
EMILY: What, why?
DR. HARTMAN: For one thing, I'm banned from going in there and they don't allow any visitors in there.
I started to cry after hearing this.
DR. HARTMAN: There there, we're sorry this happened to you.
EMILY: (Sobbing) Why would they have to go so soon?! I now lost my family, and now I won't be able to see them again!
DR. HARTMAN: (To himself) Poor girl. (To Emily) Please don't cry Ms. Griffin, because if you cry, (sobbing) It makes me want to cry too!
a few seconds later, I stopped crying in and got confused.
EMILY: Wait, Griffin? Why did you call me Griffin.
Dr. Hartman stopped crying.
DR. HARTMAN: Oh about that, Wilbur Lovegood isn't your biological father.
EMILY: What? Of course he is!
DR. HARTMAN: No, he isn't, your DNA doesn't even match with Wilbur's, you family record said that your mother married him two years after you we're born.
EMILY: How can you tell?
DR. HARTMAN: Your family records and your birth certificate.
Dr. Hartman show me my birth certificate and it shows my name, birth, and my mothers name, but father's name wasn't on it. instead, it say's "Some random drunk fat guy."
EMILY: "Some random drunk fat guy"? So your saying my mother was raped?
DR. HARTMAN: Actually, your mother's medical record said that this fat guy was drunk and matted with her by mistake and thought he came home and called her 'Lois', she had to let it go because he was drunk, so when you were knocked out, we've took a bit of your DNA to match with the DNA to find your biological father and of course, we found him.
EMILY: So, who's my real father?
DR. HARTMAN: Why, your father of course is Peter Griffin.
I then looked at again and ponder.
EMILY: (To herself) Mom... why didn't you tell me in the first place?
Death opened the door and came into my room.
DEATH: So where's to the dead corpse of Emily Violet Jane Griffin?
DR. HARTMAN: Sorry Death, false alarm, Emily Griffin is still alive and recovering.
DEATH: Oh, then I guess it's only three bodies who died in that car crash.
Death walks out the door and left.
EMILY: So when will I be out?
DR. HARTMAN: Oh, you be out and recovered in a week and right now, it smells like you need a change.
EMILY: Change, what do you mean by that?
DR. HARTMAN: Well due to the effects from that car accident, your bowls lost control which mean you are permanently incontinent, which is why it be best for you to wear some protective undergarments.
EMILY: What!?
I flapped the covers off and saw that I was wearing an adult diaper, so that's why I felt some padding at the crotch, also when I was chatting with Dr. Hartman I found out I've soiled myself unaware.
EMILY: How is this even possible?
DR. HARTMAN: Like said, your incontinent, speaking of which,
Dr. Hartman spoke though a communicator on the wall.
DR. HARTMAN: Nurse, you might want to come up, young Emily Griffin here need's changing.
NURSE: (From the intercom) Yes, Doctor.
EMILY: Why do I have to wear that?! It makes me look absolutely ridiculous, and also I crapped myself due to medical condition, I look like such a fool...
DR. HARTMAN: I'm sorry this happened to you, but you have no other option but to wear these 24/7.
EMILY: But I don't want anybody to see me in this, if the did, I'll be the laughing stock in Rhode Island...
DR. HARTMAN: Well, if you don't want to be embarrassed, why don't you wear a dress?
EMILY: Well… I could go with that...
The Nurse came in a few minutes later and then unfastened the tabs from my undergarment and then started to wipe me.
EMILY: So my father all this time is a fat guy named Peter Griffin?
DR. HARTMAN: Why yes.
EMILY: How did you know him anyway?
DR. HARTMAN: Well, he always comes here with his family, and when your mother's family record said that "Some fat man" has mated with your mother thinking it's "Lois", then it became obviously Peter Griffin.
EMILY: What makes you think it's him?
As I asked, my nurse had fastened my fresh adult diaper on me.
DR. HARTMAN: Well, it was obvious since he's the only fat guy in town who has wife named Lois.
EMILY: I guess it makes sense...
A week has passed since I have woken up from my coma, both my arm and head got better since I no longer need my bandagers or my IV, but I'm still cladded in a disposable undergarment, I now feel humiliated since I had no choice but to wear them permanently. Today's my day for me to leave this hospital. Just then, Dr. Hartman came in.
DR. HARTMAN: Good morning Emily, I see your all up and about.
EMILY: Indeed I am but I'm kind of nervous when I leave this hospital.
DR. HARTMAN: I understand you didn't want to go because of… 'that', but we know that this place isn't a place for people to live.
EMILY: I understand that, but I don't want anyone to notice my adult diaper, do have a dress for me to wear when I go out.
DR. HARTMAN: Well you are going to be wearing a black dress today because your going to be attending your family's funeral.
Just then, a man wearing a pair of glasses came in holding a black dress on its hanger.
WEINSTEIN: Hello Emily.
EMILY: Uh, hi, who might you be?
WEINSTEIN: I am Max Weinstein, accountant, I'm hear to take you to the funeral and help you move.
EMILY: Move, where?
DR. HARTMAN: After I told Mr. Weinstein and the Court about this, they agreed to let you move in with you biological father, Peter Griffin.
EMILY: I'm moving in with my real dad, are you sure about this?
DR. HARTMAN: Why yes, he's a real nice guy with his loving wife Lois, his kids, Meg, Chirs and Stewie, and two amnesic guys John and Tyler.
WEINSTEIN: I also know him because I once helped him get back his money he used by volcano insurance.
EMILY: Volcano insurance?
WEINSTEIN: It's a phony insurance that this salesman sold your father to. |
Chapter 3: The Funeral and a New Home
====================
(Emily's POV)
Mr. Weinstein and I left the hospital and we got into his black sedan and he drove me to the Quahog Cemetery, I was already prepared in my black dress along with black eyeliners and dark purple lipstick and some dark purple hair dye on part of my hair, my family was there, my grandparents, my Aunt Joyce, some of my old friends, some of my parents' friends and Mayor Adam West was there.
EMILY: Adam West?
MAYOR WEST: Why hello there citizen.
EMILY: First off, I have enjoyed your old TV show, "Batman", second, why are you at my parent's funneral?
MAYOR WEST: Oh I didn't come here to attend a funeral, I came here to visit one of my cat's grave.
He walk over to his cat's tombstone.
MAYOR WEST: (Sobbing) I still miss you Snookie!
Dark clouds loom over as everyone I know made a few dedicated speeches about my mom, my step-dad and my brother, then it was my turn for the speech.
EMILY: I never knew something like this would ever happen to them, I will alway miss them even if they're in my heart, I had a perfect childhood with them until the were gone, now my childhood is over. Jack, you have been the funniest brother I've ever known, I can always remember them. Dad, or should I say Wilbur, you have been a good father to me, even when I found out your not my biological father, and Mom, (Tears swell up in her eyes) I will miss you most, I will always love you, you've everything I needed to know and so I just have to say, "Goodbye mother, you've always been with me".
Once I finished my speech, the bagpipe player preformed "Amazing Grace" which was heard in "Star Trek: Wrath of Khan" as it rains while the coffins were being lowered to their holes as I tossed a rose down to each of their coffins.
Once the funeral's over, Mr. Weinstein drove me to my house, or should I say "My former House", when I got there, I changed out of my funeral dress and look for something different to wear since I used to wear a pink sleeveless crop top and a pair of jeans originally but now that I'm cladded in disposable undergarments, I had to wear something different to hide it. So I decided to wear a pink dress which can go down to my knees, some long black and purple striped tube socks, and a pair of black mary-jane shoes, the funny thing about me wearing this dress with stockings and a strip of purple hair, I kinda look like an average teenage girl in the 1980s (Man I miss those days) except for the fact that I'm wearing adult diapers due to the fact I'm incontinent. After I changed into my dress, I packed up everything I needed, my clothes, my light purple hair dye, my DVD collections and my old family picture which is on my mom's desk in her bedroom, when I looked a it for a minute, tears trickled down my cheek. Also I found my mom's old sapphire necklace, it is small and thin, my mother used to wear it during her wedding, I decided to put in on around my neck so I could remember her in love and respect. Once my bags we're packed up, I place them in Mr. Weinstein's trunk and then we drove away, it was still raining out.
WEINSTEIN: Is that all you gonna need?
EMILY: Not quite, I'm also gonna need my bed, my TV and my PC computer.
WEINSTEIN: I'll have the movers take them to your new house once they give you your own room, if it's alright.
EMILY: Thanks.
After a thirty minute drive, We then took a stop at Goldman's Pharmacy because I had to take Dr. Hartman's advice to buy myself some undergarments.
MORT GOLDMAN: Why Hello, welcome to Goldman's Pharmacy, I'm Mort Goldman, what can I get you?
EMILY: Uh, Hi, I'm hear to buy some disposable undergarments for the incontinence.
MORT GOLDMAN: Oh, so you want to buy a pack of adult diapers, over on isle 2.
EMILY: Thanks.
I went over to isle 2 and picked out their store brand in size medium, then I payed him $36.39
MORT GOLDMAN: Thanks for stopping by Goldman's Pharmacy.
After I paid, I carried them out and put them in the trunk and moved on to my destination.
5 minutes had passed until we arrived at our destination, 31 Spooner Street.
WEINSTEIN: Here we are, 31 Spooner Street, your new home.
He got out his car holding his umbrella, opened the trunk and took out my bags and then opened my door and then I came out shelter under his umbrella, It was a very nice house I've ever seen, it was yellow with blue shingles, a red door and a screen patio, we walked to their door and he rang the door bell and then I heard two voices behind the door, one sounded like a British man, and the other sounded like an ordinary gentleman.
STEWIE: Could somebody get the door?
BRIAN: I got it.
Then the door opened to reveal a white dog standing on two legs.
BRIAN: Mr. Weinstein, I didn't expect to see you, who this young lady?
EMILY: Hi, I'm Emily Lovegood, is your owner home?
STEWIE: Brian, who's at the door?
BRIAN: It's Mr. Weinstein and a teenage girl named Emily Lovegood.
STEWIE: That Jewish accountant and a girl we don't know?
WEINSTEIN: Is Mr. Griffin home?
The white dog then noticed a red car drove up to their driveway driven by a fat man wearing glasses, a white shirt and green pants who came out of his car.
BRIAN: He is now. (To Peter) Hey Peter, Mr. Weinstein's here to see you!
Then the fat man came up to Mr. Weinstein as a woman with short red hair and a triangular nose in a size of sandwich wearing a light green shirt and beige pants came down the stairs.
PETER: Mr. Weinstein, It's so good to see you again, who is this girl your with?
WEINSTEIN: This is Emily Violet Jane Lovegood, she's your biological daughter.
Then everyone else stared at me in shock.
STEWIE: She WHAAAAAAAAT?!
PETER: I have another daughter?
LOIS: Peter, how did you get another daughter, have you been cheating on me?!
PETER: No Lois, I would never cheat on you, honest, how would I know if I hook up with another woman, I don't remember all that.
WEINSTEIN: Well your record said that 15 years ago, you have but you don't remember it because you were drunk.
PETER: Oh… I didn't realize that, but still, how can it be me? It could've been someone else.
WEINSTEIN: Well, to make you more convinced, I've got her blood test results, and it proves that you are his father.
Peter looked at my results and found what Mr. Weinstein said is true.
PETER: Holly Crap! She really is my daughter after all!
LOIS: Anyway, why is she her?
EMILY: I'm going to be moving in because last week, my old family died in a car accident.
LOIS: *gasps* Oh my god...
PETER: You poor girl… How did this happen?
EMILY: I was on my way to Newport until some drunk frat boys, crashed into my old family's car, I was in that car accident too but luckily, I survived but sadly due to my injuries, I ended up permanently incontinent.
LOIS: Oh my God, I'm so sorry to hear that, you are gladly welcome to stay.
PETER: But Lois, where will she sleep? There's no room for her to sleep in.
LOIS: Well for now, she will be sleeping in my piano room where I teach my Piano lessons until we've added another room for her in the basement.
WEINSTEIN: Well I better go now, I have work tomorrow, and Mr. Griffin, once your house expansion's finished, let me know so I can have the movers bring in her stuff will you?
PETER: Sure thing, Mr. Weinstein.
WEINSTEIN: And Emily, good luck with your new home.
EMILY: Thank you, Mr. Weinstein.
Mr. Weinstein left the house as I placed my bags in the middle of the floor.
PETER: So, Emily Lovegood, or should say 'Griffin' since I'm your father, welcome to Family, since you know me and my wife, or should I say "you new mother, Lois".
EMILY: Please to meet you, "Mom".
LOIS: I am glad to have another daughter.
PETER: Not to forget she's more beautiful then Meg.
LOIS: Peter...
PETER: And I see you've already met my dog Brian.
BRIAN: Nice to meet you, Emily.
LOIS: And your baby brother, Stewie. (To Stewie) Say hi to your new sister, Stewie.
STEWIE: Big deal, so what I have another sister?
EMILY: Why would you say something like that?
STEWIE: Well it's because I don't care and- What the duce is this?
Stewie holds up the helm of my dress and looks under it.
STEWIE: Is that a diaper your wearing?
EMILY: HEY!
LOIS: Stewie, that's a naughty baby!
Lois carries Stewie.
LOIS: I'm sorry for what Stewie did to you.
EMILY: It's fine Mom, this is something I better get used to.
STEWIE: This is unbelievable, I have another sister who is fifteen and still in diapers, who would've thought I would inspect such a thing? I'm starting to get more interesting then that time I teleported John into one of his video games.
CUTAWAY
Stewie was playing Super Mario Brother instead, he's playing John instead of Mario.
JOHN: This isn't funny Stewie, get me out of this game!
STEWIE: Not to worry J-man, You'll be out of here, once you've defeated the boss...
JOHN: Boss? What boss?
John approached Bowser.
BOWSER: Well well well, look who we have here...
JOHN: Oh crap...
Bowser blew fire breath a John and John lost a life.
Stewie laughs at John losing one life.
CUTAWAY ENDS
Peter then showed me Chris' room.
PETER: This is your brother, Chris.
EMILY: Hi Chris, hey um, Chris, why are you scared?
CHRIS: There's an evil monkey in my closet!
The camera zooms at the monkey angrily pointing at Chris.
PETER: Don't mind him, he talks crazy.
I moved on to Meg's where a girl a year older then me wearing glasses, a pink beanie, a pink shirt and blue pants laying on her stomach texting on her phone.
PETER: And over in this room is Meg, she's your ugly sister...
EMILY: Why would you call Meg ugly?
PETER: Because it's Meg and nobody care.
MEG: You know I can hear you.
PETER: Shut up Meg.
JOHN: (Offscreen) Hey don't tell her to shut up.
PETER: That's John, he lives in the basement with his friend Tyler.
MEG: Hey dad, who's that with you?
EMILY: I'm your sister, Emily Griffin.
MEG: My sister? Oh… my god, I can't believe this, I have a sister!
PETER: Let's move on now.
Peter pushes me away from Meg's room.
EMILY: But I didn't even get the chance to know her.
We then came to the Basement where John and Tyler's bedroom was set up.
PETER: In here, is our basement, we made this into a bedroom for John and Tyler.
EMILY: Wow, that's some fine improvement in here.
PETER: I know, I helped them set it all up and since you moved in, were going to build another bedroom down here.
We then came back up in our living room, John and Tyler were there with Stewie.
PETER: Hey guys, we've got another family member in the house, this is my daughter Emily Griffin. (To Emily) Emily, this John and Tyler.
EMILY: Hi.
JOHN: Wait, you have another daughter?
TYLER: How was that even possible?
PETER: Well, fifteen years ago when I was drunk, I had sex with another woman by mistake.
TYLER: You what?
JOHN: Oh, shame on you Peter.
STEWIE: Yeah, that's totally grouse man.
JOHN: Why would you do something like that?
PETER: Hey, cut me some slack, I was only drunk, okay? Just let it go already…
TYLER: Fine...
PETER: Anyway, so Emily, what do think of this place?
EMILY: I think I'm going to like it here.
Just then, the doorbell rang and Lois answered to reveal a slightly fat African-American man in a yellow shirt and blue pants.
LOIS: Oh Hi Cleveland.
PETER: Hey, what are you doing here?
CLEVELAND: Oh Loretta kicked me out.
LOIS: Oh Cleveland, I am so sorry, you can stay in here as long as you like.
JOHN: Are you sure about this Mrs. Griffin? I mean, your new daughter had just move in.
PETER: Cleveland sit down, I want to sing a little song that uh… kept me going when I had troubles.
Peter then starts to play his guitar.
PETER: We were at the beach
Everybody had, matching towels
Somebody went, under a dock
and there they saw, a rock!
But it wasn't a rock,
It was a rock lobster!
Rock lobster!
Rock lobster!
Peter then stopped playing his tune and giggled.
PETER: Yeah, your gonna be okay... |
Lily was quite a heavy sleeper, but her sister's yell couldn't but wake her up. She didn't open her eyes, but in a minute Helen rushed into her room and grabbed her shoulder.
"Lily, get up now!"
"Helen... What's up?"
"Are you serious? We're driving to grandma's cottage for a weekend! I planned to get going earlier to be there before the heaviest traffic starts, but, with my luck, I overslept. We must go right now!"
"But Helen, what about breakfast..." Lily said lazily.
"We can eat at grandma's. Go to the bathroom, brush your teeth and take a pee."
Lily got up and dragged herself to the kitchen to make herself at least a big cup of tea, then to the bathroom. She was brushing her teeth slowly when she heard Helen shouting again.
"Lily, we're moving in a minute! Have you peed? It might be a long trip!"
"Helen, stop asking! I'm a college student and I know when I have to pee!"
Lily was pretty angry at her sister for talking to her like this. She wasn't a baby! She didn't even need to pee. So she packed her toothbrush, gulped her tea and hurried to the car where Helen was already tapping her foot. Sis has just got her license and any opportunity to drive made her really enthusiastic.
One minute into the trip, Lily felt a slight tingling in her tummy, but ignored it. Then once again. Soon it became so noticeable that she couldn't stop thinking about it. It was her bladder telling her it needed to get emptied. Lily tried to distract herself, but the pressure was growing every minute.
"Why should I always behave so childishly?" Lily thought, "My big sister only meant well when she told me I had to pee. I was so stupid. That tea isn't helping either."
She squeezed her legs a bit, trying to be as discreet as possible.
"But if I ask her to stop, I'll have to confess that I haven't listened to her. She'll keep remembering it forever!"
Lily couldn't squeeze any harder without attracting her sister's attention.
"I have no choice anyway."
Quietly she started. "Listen, Helen... Do you mind stopping at some fast food place?"
"I do mind. Why? I told you we can have breakfast later."
"It's not about eating... I need to use a bathroom."
"Again? You have peed an hour ago, have you not?"
"I have, but..."
"No buts. We're in a hurry."
"Seriously, I need to go again."
"Lily, you can't be that full. Just hold a bit, okay?"
"Sure." Lily was so ashamed she couldn't insist. But just in five minutes she realized she had to raise the topic again. Lily gained all her confidence.
"Helen, I really need you to stop the car, it's an emergency."
"Lily, why are you behaving like a baby? Hold it in. I'm not going to waste the time on it, end of story."
"I can't keep holding. I'll just die."
"What?"
"My bladder will rupture."
"Lily, don't be silly. Rupturing bladders are a myth. A bladder can rupture because of trauma, but not because of being full. When it overfills, you just go at the spot."
"But Helen, that's actually about to happen. Do you want me to ruin your upholstery?"
"FINE. But only because we're driving past a fast food now. Go."
Lily went out of the car, whining under her breath. She was so full she could barely walk. Suddenly she noticed Helen following her.
"Why are you going with me? Do you need a bathroom too?"
"No, I'll just grab some coffee."
The moment they entered the cafe, Lily saw the WC and rushed there for dear life. She pulled her panties down and sat on the toilet. It wasn't too clean, but at that point she didn't care. She just had to concentrate, because she was always a little bladder shy when peeing in an unknown place. In about two seconds Helen started knocking on the door.
"Lily, are you done yet? We're losing time!"
"Have you bought yourself a coffee already?"
"Ages ago! Hurry up!"
Although desperate like never before, Lily just couldn't force herself to go. Her exhausted bladder felt like it was about to burst into pieces, but couldn't release even a drop of pee. She closed her eyes and imagined a waterfall, but at the same moment she realized that peeing loudly while her sister is behind the door would be too humiliating.
"Lily, do you want me to leave without you or what?"
"I'm already done, sorry!"
Lily pulled her panties up and opened the door.
"Finally!" - Helen ran to the car. Lily couldn't wrap her head around the terrible thing that just happened. She was so close to the relief... and now she's even more desperate than before... how could it happen?!
Now Lily was adamant: she will act cool. She won't show Helen her condition. All in all, they'll be at grandma's house in half an hour at most. She can do it.
...But when they took the next turn, they were presented with a huge jam.
"That's EXACTLY what I was talking about!" Helen hissed. "We should've been there before the traffic! But because of wasting so much time..."
Lily was horrified. She can't last that long, no way! She took a deep breath and clenched her teeth. Well, she couldn't hide it anymore. Lily grabbed her crotch so hard that her fingers got white.
Helen watched her in a rear-view mirror, very surprised.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Helen, I couldn't go while you were pressing on me!"
"So you're saying that... you haven't peed in that cafe?"
"Actually I haven't peed since yesterday," Lily whispered.
"Lily, how could you be so... no, it's my fault. I shouldn't have talked to you like that and especially shouldn't have knocked on the door. Also no one is to blame but me that we were in a rush in the first place."
Lily couldn't answer, panting and moaning.
"Listen, Lily, there's a gas station here. With a traffic like this, it might take a bit longer to turn there, but try to hold for five more minutes, okay? I know you can!"
"I'll do my best," Lily exhaled. Sweat was running down her forehead. She was sitting on her hand, trying to seal her peehole that was already filling. Lily closed her eyes. "You haven't let it out just ten minutes ago, idiot," she told her bladder, "so please don't let it out now! Please!"
"We're here," Helen said quietly. Lily opened her eyes and saw the gas station. Now she won't miss her chance to get a relief! Confidently she stepped out of the car, ready to run...
But it was too late. Her bladder had its own plan, and the very moment she stood up, she lost control over it. Hot stream of pee broke forth, running down her legs and making a puddle under her feet, and all she could do was stand there red as a beetroot and wait for it to come to its end. A few people were watching her, rather pitifully than mockingly. Helen's eyes were wide open.
"Hey, Lily... I'm so sorry. We're lucky that you're wearing a skirt and crocs. You can take off your panties in the car, everything else will dry soon. Wipe yourself with... with... okay, wipe with my coat."
There was a brief moment of silence while Lily was fixing herself up on the backseat.
"And please don't tell gram that I've made you piss yourself. I'll do literally anything for you!"
"For reals? Well, first of all, I want a new phone..." |
Hey guys! I really enjoyed writing this, more importantly, i hope you guys enjoy reading it! ♥️ Any feedback/ thoughts, i'm happy to hear them.
“I’m really not sure this is a good idea for me” this was my first thought when my friends sent me a link to an escape room type of deal. I mean, I love escape rooms but this one was slightly different, for one it was in some creepy old mansion type place and secondly, the webpage was plastered with pictures of people who had wet their pants. Which, as any of my friends will know, this is something I’m familiar with. Big time. There are just so many occasions, it is honestly hard to recount most of them. Like, there was the time I was on a rollercoaster and the bar pressed into my bladder too hard, I was too shy to say anything and wet myself as I was whizzing around. There was the time I got into a hysterical laughing fit at a friend’s house and, you guessed it, wet my pants again. You probably get the picture. I don’t have any medical issues or anything, I’m just shy and I lack the ability to control my bladder when It is even remotely full. So, when this popped up, suffice to say, there was much playful goading from my friends.
“come on Emily, this is right up your street, you can have your picture on the wall with all the other pants wetters” thanks Noah, really needed that. In response, I sent the group a picture of us all when we were playing crazy golf, it’s a beautiful photo with all my favourite people in the world, the sun glimmering of the blue water in the background, the people in the background enjoying family fun and me and my friends in the foreground armed with our playful putters. Oh, and myself sat on my bum as a wet patch spreads around my denim shorts. It was kinda timed perfectly, because you can see the moment, I lost control and began totally wetting myself. Like, I’m sat on my ass, in hysterics because I fell over, I’ve got one hand in my crotch trying to stop the inevitable and my other hand covering my mouth trying to supress my hysterical laughter. It’s a moment of bliss, just tinged with a slight embarrassment. I wanted to send it cause I really love the photo and it reminds me of good times, the fact I’m wetting myself is kinda irrelevant, it doesn’t bother me anymore, I’ve grown used to it. Nevertheless, they weren’t going to give up without a fight, I figured I’d end up in this escape room one way or another.
Lauren: “Look Emily, have a read of this” there was a link inserted at the end.
Emily: “What is that?”
Lauren: Open the link and find out baby.
I opened the link to find a picture of a guy in pee-soaked jeans, holding a piece of paper that proudly announced “I failed the bladder buster challenge and wet my pants. Maybe I need a diaper?” It gave me a chuckle and if I’m being totally honest, turned me on a little too, he was a hot guy and something about him in his pee-soaked pants was appealing to me. Save that for later… SHUSHH!!
Emily: “what am I meant to do with this? Its some guy in piss wet pants, I mean ewww!!” yeah… I had to bluff this one out.
Lauren: “doesn’t it sound cool though? The bladder buster challenge? Sounds kinda exciting”
Emily: “Not for me! I’ve only gotta have a cup of water and I can do the challenge at home for free!”
Many laughing emojis were sent. Glad to know I can laugh at myself.
Noah: “Come on Emily, we’re all up for it, we’re all waiting for you. Please say you’ll tag along, it’ll be fun. I promise” I could see there really was no way out of this. I didn’t want to let my friends down and even though I didn’t relish the idea of wetting myself again, I guessed it would be fun. So, I agreed to tag along. Who knows, one of them might even wet their pants?
After I agreed, I decided I needed to prepare myself. I had read up on the challenge and it really was beyond my bladder capabilities. In essence, its an escape room with a little twist; the twist being that we have to solve the puzzle of the escape room, after consuming the so-called bladder buster potion. It didn’t explain what was in the potion, only that it would bring all who consumed it to the pique of desperation in a matter of minutes. This genuinely worried me. I didn’t fear wetting my pants so much as wetting my pants multiple times. For example, when I woke up this morning, I had one mug of coffee, that was two hours ago, and I’ve peed three times since. So yeah. If one mug of coffee does that to me, what the hell is this potion going to do to me? I could picture myself soaking my pants multiple times, not a great look for a woman in her mid-twenties.
I decided to be smart and be totally prepared. The day before we were booked to take part in the escape room, I went into town to shop for something I have never shopped for in my life, diapers. I figured, if I’m going to do this and keep at least a shred of dignity, I’m gunna need some protection. But I honestly had no clue what to buy. I know nothing about diapers. I wanted something absorbent, I estimated I might wet myself at least twice, so I needed something that could hold such an amount of pee. My choices turned out to be fairly limited. All I could find were kind of run of the mill adult diapers, which were fine but I kind of wanted something at least a little bit cute and feminine, besides, I didn’t want my friends finding out I was diapered, I didn’t want them to know I was cheating. Plus, seeing the look on their faces when I didn’t wet my pants would be priceless. In the end, I decided to contact a friend for advice, he’s not in my normal circle of friends so he wasn’t aware of the escape room and I was aware he was in some way into this kinda thing. To be honest, the conversation was less awkward than I anticipated, I simply explained I needed some diapers, what I needed them for and that I wanted them to be absorbent but also invisible under my clothes. In essence, he explained that invisibility for the kinda absorption I was talking about was near impossible, it was either absorption and good protection or invisible and potentially leaky. In the end, I figured potentially leaky would be best. I really didn’t want my diaper to be seen by my friends, partly cause it would be sort of cheating but mostly cause I figured wetting myself was slightly less embarrassing than wearing a diaper. Fine line, I guess.
In the end, I bought some super cute diapers that were designed for teenage bedwetting. They were grey at the front, with a purple chequered bow and the rear section was totally covered in the same purple chequered pattern as the bow at the front. I felt a little strange buying them and I was a little self-conscious that people suspected they were for me, I mean, I’m only petit and these diapers were the perfect size for me. I did find it kind of thrilling though, I will admit, it did give me a buzz. I felt a little naughty. They came in a pack of five, I only needed one, wasn’t really sure what to do with the rest, it did seem wasteful to throw the rest in the bin though, figured I’d sort that problem out a little later on.
The next stage was to select my outfit for the day in question, I wanted something comfortable, cause I figured we might be in there quite a while. I also wanted something cute, I mean, who doesn’t like cute? On top of that, I also wanted something loose fitting, these diapers seemed fine, they weren’t too bulky or puffy but even still, I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. In honesty, I wasn’t even sure what the dress code was, I guessed casual, cause who wants to risk peeing their pants in good clothes? Certainly not me, that’s for sure. I was torn between black, boot cut jeans, black leggings or grey cotton bottoms. I leaned towards black; black helps eliminate silhouettes and of course, helps hide any potential wetness. On the other hand, even though these were loose fitting, they were all tighter, particularly at the rear, than my grey cotton bottoms. But then, if my diaper leaks in the grey, there is no way of hiding that, I would be in real trouble. Tough decisions. In the end I plumped for the grey bottoms, the extra loose fitting and comfy material won me over. Besides, I’ve been told my ass looks good wearing them. To match the casual cute look, I went for a tank top with a unicorn and rainbow print. Did I need underwear? Were knickers needed? I asked myself both questions, I mean, would wearing knickers above my diaper help hide any potential puffy bulge? No, I didn’t think it was worth it.
Outfit chosen, diapers selected and a time and meeting place selected, we were all set for our day out.
We all met outside the mansion in question at eleven in the morning. The sun was bright, and it was quite warm, I was sweating a little, the diaper was a lot warmer than I figured it would be. I felt a little self-conscious about my diaper and I felt I was checking my ass far more than I should have. The mansion itself was creepy, seriously creepy. It looked totally dilapidated and run down, how someone had turned this into a viable business was beyond me. Even during the day, I felt a little fear twinge in my bladder, at night, I think I would wet my pants. The brickwork was all shoddy and mismatched, there was an old greenhouse type arrangement to the left-hand side full of plants that had withered and died, it really gave me the creeps. I voiced my anxieties to my friends, they mostly agreed that it was indeed creepy, but also made a good point that maybe it was just all part of the experience.
“is someone coming to meet us?” I asked genuinely puzzled, there didn’t seem to be any other people anywhere to be seen.
“The email said to head to the greenhouse” Lauren replied, not at all sounding confident and sounding just a little bit apprehensive.
“We should really get moving, we should have been there a couple minutes ago” Noah interjected, forever the pragmatist. “By the way Emily, brave choice with the grey bottoms, thought you might have went for black, you know, to hide the fact when you wet yourself like a little girl” his tone was playful, but I responded with a daggers look that said do not go there and he didn’t. We walked the rest of the way to the greenhouse in silence, I think we were all tentative by this point.
We entered the greenhouse and the midday sun was roasting hot, amplified by our glass surroundings. Nobody was to be seen however, Noah called out a couple of times but got no response. “well this is great” I spoke out to try and break a monotonous silence, but deep down I was kinda relieved, I was now terrified, and my heart was pounding. My fear twangs in my bladder were intensifying too and I was having to bear down a little to stop any leaks. I tried to be discreet of course, whether I succeeded was debatable, Noah kept giving me an inquisitive look each time I crossed my legs and braced my thighs together. We were all just stood in silence, totally unsure of what was going on. I began to believe this was all a hoax.
“Boys and girls!! Follow my voice!! No!! Not over there, down here!!” An electronic voice boomed out and echoed around the room, we all jumped out of our skin. Lauren had jumped into Noah for safety, Will had practically suffered a heart attack, poor Meg was almost crying, and I’d pissed myself. Literally. That voice literally scared the piss out of me. It didn’t feel like I had leaked too much, maybe just a particularly large spurt but either way, I felt the need to bear down and brace myself again to stop any potential flood that might easily have occurred. We all had to take a moment to compose ourselves, I guess our collective screams hadn’t exactly made things any better.
I looked over to Meg, who as I say, was practically crying. She looked genuinely terrified, beyond anything I had seen before, certainly from her, who was usually so calm and collected. I was a little concerned. “You okay sweetie?” I asked her tenderly. She just kinda looked at me with huge blue puppy dog eyes, I felt an immense sympathy for her. I walked over to her and gave her a big hug. I leaned in close and told her its okay, its all part of the game. “I peed my pants” I heard her whisper in my ear, “me too” I replied and gave her a peck on the cheek. I looked down at her jeans and yeah, there was a certain dampness, but certainly nothing that would be noticed unless you looked for it. Great start, I thought to myself. We haven’t even started yet and at least two of us have peed our pants.
Me and Meg held hands as we walked towards the hidden door that had opened as the voice was screaming at us, I don’t think we were consciously holding hands, but I think we felt a certain bond cause we had both confessed to peeing ourselves. Everyone else seemed scared and edgy and we were all sticking close together, nobody was breaking rank. As we walked down the steep, dark staircase towards the underbelly of the mansion, we could hear eery music playing in the room at the bottom of the stairs, yeah, we were headed there. The atmosphere felt crushing and intimidating, which only got worse as we entered the room.
The room was dimly lit and there was a strange red hue in the air. There were candles burning in each corner and the smell of a sweet sickly incense was burning my nostrils. I really did not like it down there. I had to use every muscle I had to stop more pee wetting my diaper. There was a sign pointing us to a short, slightly better lit corridor which was lined with candles. It was only wide enough for one at a time, I looked at Meg in horror, neither of us wanted to go alone.
“Who’s going first?” asked Noah, he even sounded strangely uncomfortable. Nobody wanted to respond, we were all too frightened. “guess I’ll take the lead then” yeah, he answered his own question. “who’s going last?” I asked “I’m fucking not, nor is Meg” I felt it was only right to protect Meg, she seemed even more afraid than me, gripping my arm as she was, it felt like she was trembling uncontrollably. “Will, you should go last” Lauren intervened, I totally agreed, it seemed only right that the two boys go first and last, it had a nice symmetry. So, Noah took the lead, followed by Lauren, then me, then Meg and Will was at the back of the queue and we slowly crept our way down the corridor. I gripped Laurens waist like there was no tomorrow and I could feel Meg doing the same with me, she was still trembling.
At the end of the corridor we entered a huge but somewhat cacophonous stone walled room. There were still candles in the corners but thankfully, the incense was now gone. We all filed in one by one, until we all finally filed ourselves into a neat line. I was thinking of walking around to explore and see what was where, but Meg once again, latched onto my arm and wouldn’t let go, I felt so sorry for her. Out of me and her, I was truly surprised that I was handling it better than her. “its just a game babe, nobody is gunna hurt you” I whispered in her ear, her hair smelled sweet, like flowers, later I wanted to know what shampoo she was using. “I know, I’m just freaked” she mumbled in reply. “it’ll soon be over, then we’ll take you our for a stiff drink” I was just trying to be supportive for my friend. There was a pause and I felt like she had nothing more to say, so I moved to get closer to Noah for a little extra support but once again, Meg stopped me in my tracks. “I need to get these knickers off” she whispered into my ear, she sounded somewhat forlorn to me. “its just a little pee, I’m in the same boat remember, I peed myself too” I wanted to sound comforting, but it was tricky cause I could feel my voice breaking, the tense atmosphere was catching up with me and as we know, I wasn’t telling the whole truth. “its not that” her voice broke off suddenly. “what is it babe?” I inquired, genuinely intrigued. “I pooped a little too” Stunned. I knew she was scared, but really? So scared she pooped her pants? I found it very hard to believe. “Are you serious?” I felt my tone was a little harsh, I didn’t mean it, I was just so surprised by this admission, it really threw me off my guard. She shrank back a little and I could see she was shocked by my tone, I felt I had to make amends. “I’m sorry babe, I was taken back” I kissed her on her forehead as recompense. “yes, I am serious” she replied to my original question “its not much, but… when that voice boomed out, I felt really strange, like I was frozen and had no control over myself and as well as the pee, a little poop slipped out too” Poor Meg. “I’m sorry baby, I knew this wasn’t a good idea” I was scornful, this really wasn’t a good idea. “can you carry on?” I inquired; every fibre of my being wanted her to say no so I could get myself out of this hell hole too. “yeah, I can” oh great “I just need to get these knickers off, you think there’s anywhere I can change?” I seriously doubted it and I didn’t want to give her false hope “I don’t think so babe, even if there is, you really wanna do this commando?” oh boy, this was a conversation I never thought I would have. “I’ve got a spare pair in my bag, I thought it wise. I mean, the whole point here is to make people pee their pants, I felt it was prudent to come prepared” I admired her logic, it rather matched up with mine. Our conversation, however, was interrupted by our illustrious host.
A guy stepped out from behind a door. He was tall and wearing a dark robe and big black boots, he looked kinda creepy but also quite funny at the same time. We all just stood in silence as we waited for an introduction and maybe even find out what the hell was happening.
“Good afternoon folks” he announced pleasantly, gotta say, I was surprised by how cheery and friendly he sounded “my name is Mark and I will be your host for the day” Nice introduction, I thought to myself.
“Excuse me?” Meg spoke out in a breaking and obviously scared voice. “Ahh hello, sorry, what is your name please?” Mark asked politely “Meg” my word she sounded frightened “nice to meet you Meg, no need to sound so frightened, what can I do for you?” honestly, he sounded totally friendly, not at all what any of us were expecting. “umm can i… umm is there… is there like a bathroom I could use please?” she asked pleadingly. “we do have facilities, which you may use before the game begins, but I need to know why?” I looked at Meg, I needed to know what she was gunna say, I gripped her tight to offer what little support I could. “I just need to pee” oh dear, she did not sound convincing, Meg was never a good liar. “I don’t believe you” Mark rebuked her “if you wanna use the bathroom, I’m gunna need to hear the truth” I shot a look to Meg again, I felt I needed to bail her out.
“Truth is” I spoke out and Meg looked at me so pleadingly it was horrendous, for a moment, I’m sure she thought I was going to be truthful about what had occurred in her underwear “we’ve both peed ourselves a little and we would like to dry ourselves off” please believe me, please. I tried to sound as convincing as I could, I mean it was kinda true, we had both peed ourselves, except she had done just a little more in her knickers than I wanted to let on. “that’s fine” he said. Thank the lord, I thought to myself, I looked at Meg and smiled, I felt like I had bailed her out. “one thing though, I’m gunna need to check that you don’t change underwear in there” oh god, what? That’s weird surely. “how’s that work?” I asked totally surprised. “simple; I check the waistband of your underwear now and check again when you come out, if they match, then we’re good to go” there were a few looks of surprise being whipped around among our friends, mostly at Meg, I guess they’ve all become used to my various accidents, but for Meg, it was her first time. She didn’t seem too embarrassed, thankfully, which believe me was a relief.
“does that sound okay babe?” I asked Meg, it was only after I had asked that I realised the problem. Unless her underwear matched, she was in a little trouble, what kinda trouble, I didn’t know. “yeah, I guess so” she replied, they must match, I thought to myself. “yeah that’s okay” I said to Mark in agreement. “glad to hear it” he said jovially “however, I am of course only joking, you’re free to use the facilities before we start” Phew, that’s a load of my mind.
Mark directed us to the bathroom. It was only a short walk and the facilities were rather pleasant. They were clean, well equipped and nicely decorated. We both entered the same stall and Meg began stripping off her jeans. She pulled her jeans down and there was a clear wet patch on the gusset of her knickers, there was also a pad there too, she had clearly leaked a lot, the pad was totally overwhelmed. She pulled her jeans off and asked me to inspect the back, “no problem babe” I said reassuringly. Honestly, it was clear she had not suffered a number two accident, there was no brown stain adorning the seat of her cute white knickers or anything else to indicate an accident of this variety. “How bad is it?” she asked me pleadingly, “Not sure what you felt, but I cannot see anything babe” she looked at me in abject surprise, this was clearly not the response she was expecting. “really? Like, I was so sure?” I shrugged my shoulders and reiterated what I had already said, she stripped off her cute white knickers and put them in a plastic bag she had brought with her and placed the bag inside her handbag. I asked if she needed a hand drying herself off, but she said no. Her replacement knickers were equally cute. They were royal blue hipster briefs with a cute pink bow on the front, she placed them on the toilet cistern and left them there until she had dried herself off. “I’m really sorry about this Emily, I feel like a fool” she seemed in better spirits now she knew the number two accident did not even happen. “hey, it’s okay, it happens” I hugged her tight again, I could still see her pee stained knickers protruding from her bag, it made me think what kinda state I would be in, if I were not diapered.
She finished drying herself off and invited me back into the stall. She was just slipping into her fresh knickers when I walked in. “You putting another pad in?” I asked her politely, she simply nodded in response. “what about you?” she asked me. “What about me?” I asked her “well, you peed too, don’t you need to change?” okay, I really didn’t want to lie to her right now, but I also didn’t want to give the game away, I composed myself for a half truth “I only leaked a little, besides, its dried now, I feel okay” she gave me a half smile in approval. She pulled up her jeans again, took a minute to compose herself and we prepared to leave the bathroom. “before we go…” Meg broke off midsentence “yeah?” i asked inquisitively “you wont tell anybody about the uh… well you know, will you?” I hugged her tight again and reassured her that no word of it would ever pass my lips. Think what you will about me, but I am not in the habit of announcing to the world that my friend thought she had pooped her pants.
We left the bathroom and re-joined the others, we had been gone longer than expected and a few looks where shared, I never said a word and silently regrouped within our original line.
“Ah the ladies return” Mark greeted us warmly in welcome “I was just explaining to your friends exactly what is going to happen, but have no fear I am happy to explain again” me and Meg looked at each other and smiled, I had suddenly become nervous again.
“Okay I’ll keep this as brief as I can: when you go through that door, you will be in the escape room itself, your task is to solve the puzzle and exit the room. However, before entering you will drink this”, he presented a green coloured vial in his hand “the bladder buster potion. After drinking our special brew, your bladder will fill up in moments, it is made of a special mix of herbs, diuretics and one or two special ingredients. It’s also totally vegan friendly and totally safe to drink. That’s about it, really is that simple” It did sound simple, but, as I’m sure you all know, operating when desperate to pee is much easier said than done, our brains become scrambled and we often act irrationally and without proper thought. My nerves had died away somewhat, I was no longer feeling anxiously terrified, I now realised it was just a game, I looked around my friends and I think we all breathed a sigh of relief in tandem.
“Now, if there are no questions, if you could all take a potion one by one, once you have all consumed a potion, then I will activate the escape room. Is everyone ready?” I took a deep breath and nodded in approval, even Meg seemed calm and composed again.
“Hell yeah” shouted Noah.
“fantastic. If you would all like to come up and take a potion” he beckoned us all forward and Noah went first. He downed the vial and shuddered slightly at the taste “my word that’s bitter” he announced chidingly, Mark simply giggled in response. Lauren drank hers, then Will, then Meg and finally, I took a deep breath and drank mine. God help me, I thought to myself. Come on diaper, you and me against the world, don’t let me down now. The potion was indeed bitter, it tasted a little like raw lemon juice mixed with juniper berries or something. Anyway, it didn’t taste good and it had an effort on my bladder immediately. I went from a four to a six in almost no time. I had to put this to the back of my mind, cause we had entered the escape room.
The room itself was square. It was well lit, there was a computer in the corner, albeit a slightly old and creaky model and there was a locked door opposite the door we had just entered from. I walked over to the computer and read what it said on the screen, “guys come look at this” I announced to everyone, we all piled around the screen to read “find the key, open the door, or your dignity, will be no more” great. “So, we gotta find a key?” I asked puzzled. “I guess so” responded Noah. We all split up to look for anything key like, this was gunna be tough, the room was incredibly bare, and it really didn’t look like there was anywhere to hide a key.
“Lauren, you’re good at this stuff, any ideas?” I inquired. “nope, got a little problem of my own” I swung round to see Lauren leaning against the wall with her hands planted in her crotch, I guessed the potion was doing its work. “gotta pee babe?” I asked her nonchalantly, I already knew the answer, I was overly familiar with desperation. “fuck yeah, like I’m all tensed and shit, I fear if I loosen up or move, I’ll piss my pants” yeah, I know the feeling. “maybe let it go babe? You might feel better, then we might have a chance of getting out of here” I wanted to sound positive, but its tough to be positive when you’re asking a friend to piss their pants for the greater good. “I know you’re right, but if I wet myself now, I gotta stay in these wet knickers and jeans all day, I didn’t bring a change of clothes” her voice was laboured, she was breathing heavily and beginning to shake. Not bringing a change of clothes was a bad idea, surely, she knew this might happen sooner or later?
I left Lauren for a few moments to think over her situation. My bladder was also beginning to beg for attention, these potions really are fast workers. I considered the possibility of peeing in my diaper at that very moment, I had a thought that maybe if I let it go early, in one go, I might not get it so badly later. I was not confident though and what I really feared, was filling my diaper too early and increasing the likelihood of a leak later in the game. I wanted to forget my bladder and focus on finding this key, surely if we find the key, then we do not have to worry about this problem.
“Is there like any clues or anything?” Will asked anybody that was listening. “Just that note on the computer I think” I answered in response. It really was nothing to work from, even just a small hint to get us going would be a good thing right about now.
“Mark? Can you hear us in here?” Noah shouted abruptly, gave me quite a shock, his voice really boomed around the room. There was a brief pause, before finally Mark responded.
“I can hear you loud and clear” Mark retorted jovially. “any chance of a little hint of some kind to get us going?” Noah inquired. I figured it was pointless, the whole point of an escape room is to work it out ourselves.
“Sure, I can give you a hint. Gunna cost though” My word, he really was jovial, I got the impression he was really enjoying this.
“cost us what exactly?” I shouted back quite tartly. It took a moment of two for Mark to respond. “If you want a hint, one of you has to pee your pants” he spoke the words with a slight playfulness in his voice. “That simple, one of us pees our pants and you give us a hint is that the deal?” I spoke calmly and pragmatic. “that simple” he retorted.
We all gazed at each other for a moment, before all our eyes focused on Lauren. She was still doubled over on herself, hands pressed into her crotch with her thighs locked together, shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. She looked back at all of us, she knew what we wanted, I figured she would take some persuading, but I also trusted her to make the right call.
“Come on Lauren, take one for the team” Noah spoke out.
“yeah babe, it’s just a little pee, you’ll dry off and I’m sure they have some dry clothes you can borrow” I was in full on persuasion mode, we really needed this hint.
“Save your breath guys” Lauren retorted. Oh dear, this is gunna be tougher than I thought.
I was just about to start a monologue about the greater good for all involved, when out the corner of my eye, I saw one of the most welcoming sight of my life. A huge dark stain began to spread around her light-coloured jeans. It started at the crotch and quickly spread the full width of her jeans and before long, her legs had become waterfalls. The wetness was pouring down her legs and flowing over her shoes and pooling beneath her feet. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was still deep. She was still doubled over on herself, with her ass stuck out as if she were doing a standing squat. I could see pee pouring through the back of her jeans, her poor underwear would be drenched. She seemed to pee for an eternity.
“OH my god!” she finally spoke as the last few trickles left her body. “That may have been, the best pee of my life” I looked at my friends and we all shared a long grin, guess pissing your pants isn’t so bad after all.
“Feel better?” I asked kindly. “Oh god yeah” she responded. “Gunna have to take these jeans of though, they have become heavy and they’re sticking to me” I supressed a child like giggle. I looked at Noah and he was full on staring at Lauren, I think he enjoyed watching her wet herself.
Lauren began peeling off her wet jeans, she laboured away for a good few moments. They really were totally sodden and because they were clinging so badly, she really struggled to get them off. When she did however, I was amazed. She was wearing these totally adorable purple knickers with “Good girls cover up” printed across the back, I thought they were cute, her ass looked good too. The wet patch had spread more than halfway up the back towards the waistband, it was a nice sight and it gave me a little buzz. Wait? What is happening to me? Noah was still staring, I couldn’t really blame him, guess he was feeling similar sensations to me.
“Where can I leave these? Lauren asked anyone who was listening. “Put them in the corner” Will called out. Seemed a good call.
“Look Mark, I peed my pants. Wanna give us the hint?” Lauren shouted out playfully whilst shaking her wet ass. “Well, you’ve upheld your end, so it’s only fair I do the same, listen closely, cause I will only say this once: Some feel pleasure, some feel sin, to find out who, you must look within”
What the hell does that even mean? My brain went into overdrive working out the various connotations of the statement. It was clearly a riddle, but it really could mean anything. Does it mean one of us has the key? Does it mean one of us is the key? Has it got something to do with the computer, I mean, you can find pleasure and sin on a computer? Honestly, I was bewildered. It seemed everyone else was in the same boat. Will seemed totally frustrated, Meg seemed to be in quiet contemplation, Lauren was pacing around in her cute wet knickers and Noah was STILL staring at Lauren and her wet ass.
“Noah!” I blared at him, “snap out of it, we’ve got to work this out” he blushed red and gave me an apologetic look.
“I dunno, it could mean anything” he finally muttered as he came back to planet Earth, he still seemed to be distracted by something.
“Will, any thoughts?” I asked out of desperation, it seemed totally hopeless, we were all totally bewildered. “I have one” he announced quietly. “Thank god, what is it?” I asked him. “well, I dunno about the riddle, but I gotta pee, pretty bad” Not another one. Wait? No, that is good. That might mean we can get a clue. It struck me as odd though, he did not seem to be desperate, I decided to ask him about it. “I’m going to be honest Will, you don’t look that desperate?” he did not respond. He was deep in thought about something. What is going on with everyone today?
All the permutations of the riddle were bouncing around my head, it really could mean anything. My bladder was really beginning to scream at me too, it was making it harder to think. I only noticed when I looked at the floor, but I had been crossing my legs unconsciously for god knows how long. I must have leaked again too; cause I could feel a familiar warm tingle in my diaper. I braced myself and tensed up, the tingle was not going away. What? Huh? Ahhh okay, I was dribbling. Uncontrollably. Oh great. There was no urge, leading to the dribbling, it came out of nowhere. This potion, whatever is in it, really does what it says on the tin.
I could feel my diaper becoming more and more wet. The warmth was slowly spreading towards my bum as well, it actually felt quite nice, sort of comforting. I didn’t have it in me to fight any longer, I wanted to be able to think clearly, I wanted to help my friends out of this escape room. So, I did what any good friend would do and relaxed my muscles and let the torrent flow. OH GOSH!! It felt incredible. The pee gushed out of me like a waterfall, I could feel my diaper fighting the battle to absorb the torrent I was releasing into its grasp. Between my thighs, I could feel my diaper sagging slightly, I wanted to check if it was visible, but by this stage, I wasn’t sure I cared. I knew I would pee in my diaper eventually and it turned out to be a nice sensation. I was overcome with a huge sense of relief as the final remnants of my bladder poured into my soggy diaper. I was, finally, clear headed. Unbeknownst to the world, I had just peed myself, but in total secrecy. I enjoyed the feeling it gave me. maybe diapers aren’t so bad after all.
I composed myself and tried to forget the soggy warmth against my genitals and ass, it was tough, I won’t lie, I had a niggling feeling of naughtiness and I think I was blushing slightly. “okay, we really need to solve this riddle guys” I spoke fervently, I wanted to motivate those around me.
“I think… it means one of us has the key” Lauren spoke out, she sounded somewhat confident but with puzzlement in her voice too. “How would that work?” I asked. “hmmm well… who actually booked this thing? I know it was a group decision, but who actually made the booking?” I felt she had hit onto a good point, maybe this whole thing was prearranged in some way.
“Well, from what I remember, Noah was the one who discovered this place” I answered confidently. “Got nothing to do with me” Noah protested. “Are you sure? I mean, it was your idea, this could all be one big joke on your part, I would not put it past you” I answered him back sharply. “Look, I got an email out of nowhere from an email address registered to the operator of this business, it said if I bring my friends along, we would get cheap prices and a unique experience” this was totally bizarre, he spoke truthful, I’ve known Noah a long time, I can tell when he is lying, on this occasion, he was not lying.
“So, none of us has the key?” Lauren asked sharply.
“I have no idea” I retorted. “Hey mark, you still there?” I called out into the ether. “Yeah I’m still here” he replied. “look, we’re totally confuzzled out here, we have no idea what’s going on, it’s becoming creepy, can you please just tell us what the hell we’re doing here. Cause I’m not sure we want to play this game anymore.” I glanced around my friends and I was met with almost universal approval, this was becoming farcical, there seemed to be no answer to the riddle. Meg had barely spoken since leaving the bathroom, Will seemed to be in a trance and Lauren was happily prancing around in her soaked knickers, as for Noah, I couldn’t read him, this potion seemingly had no effect on him.
“Check the computer” Mark’s electronic voice echoed around the room. I made a dash for the computer, there was a message, one that was not there before, it said: “Puer in Eboracum natus est” What the hell is that? What language is that? We all read it, totally puzzled. After a moment or two, Will spoke out, “I think it’s Latin” he sounded unsure in his answer.
“Well okay, if it is Latin, what the hell does it say? This is just getting weird” I was beginning to get agitated, I know this is the point of escape rooms, they aren’t supposed to be easy, but when you have one friend who is frolicking happily in wet knickers, one who appears to be in a trance, one who hasn’t spoken in ages, one who is apparently desperate for a pee but showing no signs of desperation at all, it all just seemed too much for me, I needed a glimmer of light to aim for.
“Well, Eboracum is the Latin for York, that’s as far as my knowledge goes” It was Noah who spoke out. “How do you know that?” Meg asked him, it was the first time she had spoken in a long time. “I studied at York university, it was just something I picked up along the way” okay, maybe we can get somewhere with this.
I briefly believed we were getting somewhere. Maybe the clue has something to do with Noah’s studies at York, maybe that has something to do with the original riddle? But honestly, I didn’t know.
“Will, a little help here would be nice?” I asked him tartly. He said nothing but just stared right through me, as he began emptying his bladder. It was huge. His grey denim shorts quickly went dark. I could see his pee running down his legs, trickling into his socks and flowing ferociously over his shoes. There was such a forcefulness, that I could see the tip of his penis pressing against the sodden material of his shorts. The sound of his pee splashing against the stone floor was echoing and we all just stood silently watching as he emptied his bladder. His face was expressionless, as if he were having an out of body experience. At one point he looked down at his crotch and grabbed his testicles and squeezed, pee sprayed over his hand and sploshed onto the floor. He stood for a moment and pushed the puddle around slightly with his feet, as if he were a cat playing with its dinner. I thought he looked cute.
“I’ve gotta get these shorts off” he exclaimed nonchalantly. Just like that, he began peeling his shorts off, he unbuttoned his shorts, dropped the fly and his shorts fell to his ankles and rested wearily in his puddle. He was wearing tight grey briefs that really hugged his testicles in a wet embrace, his package was tight and seemed to be resting comfortably. He spun around and there was a wetness that had began to creep up his ass but stopped just below his cheeks.
“You feel better?” Lauren asked him directly. “I do” he answered simply.
“Anyone else wanna wet their pants and strip off before we sole this riddle?” I asked, totally exasperated by everything that was going on. It was very much a rhetorical question; I was beginning to think everyone had gone a bit mad. I know the whole point of this game is for all participants to wet their pants, but surely stripping off isn’t part of that bargain.
I let the silence linger for a moment before speaking again. “look, we could end up in here forever, we have to solve this riddle. Anyone have any ideas?” Again, I was greeted by silence. “look, can we break it down word by word? Maybe that will give us some idea?”
“Puer” I answered by own question again, “any ideas?” I finally got a response “Puer means boy I think” announced Noah. Finally, we might be getting somewhere. “What makes you say that?” I asked him. “Not sure” he answered briskly “its just what popped into my head when I heard the word” well, I finally felt like we were maybe getting somewhere.
“Okay, so we maybe have boy. What is next… in Eboracum, well we think Eboracum is York, so maybe in York? Okay, so boy in York. Natus est? Any ideas?” it felt slightly forlorn, I figured we were lucky to get York and maybe boy, the last bit seemed alien to me.
“Well…” Noah began “What words In English do we have that are like natus?” decent line of thinking I thought.
“Natal?” Meg spoke out. “Natal!” I expressed jubilantly. “Natal has something to do with childbirth, right?” it was mostly rhetorical, but Noah answered, nonetheless. “Yeah, like ante natal classes” finally, maybe we had a workable answer.
“So, we have boy, York and birth?” I asked Noah. “Sounds about right” he responded. “So, is the answer, “The boy was born in York?” my question was directed towards Mark and he duly answered. “Yes” he said simply.
Halleluiah. It probably took us longer than it should have, but more importantly, we got there eventually.
“So, Mark, where does that leave us?” I asked jubilantly, I expected we were nearly through this. “Well you answered the question, but you still haven’t answered the riddle, so really, you’re no further forward”
You must be joking.
To be continued. |
Introduction: Hi! This is sort of my first fiction I've ever written. Probably the longest text I've ever written that wasn't school related. I appologise in advance. English is like my third language, I'm not as fluent as I'd like to be, and even in my own language my story-telling skills suck. If you liked it, that is great. If you didn't like it, please write something that is good then, and share it with our whole community to enjoy!
Margaret's biggest in awhile:
Margaret stood at the check out line of the grocery store in her local shopping mall. To her fellow shoppers her pose might have come of as a causual feminine stand, there she was behind her almost full cart with her left foot on its toe and knee turned slightly inwards. The truth was, she wasn't concious about it, she just tried to gather her thoughts on what she had picked up and if she had forgotten something. Normally when Margaret went to the store, it was like top 5 things she had to pick up, but tonight was abit out of the ordinary. About a week ago, she had gotten a WhatsApp-message from her old roommate from Universty, Christina, wich she actually hadn't met in person since, what had it been now, 10 months, when they graduated last June. They were besties and all that, but after finishing their degrees they had both gotten a job back in their respective home towns, wich was sadly in quite a distance from each other. Margaret majored in bio engeneering, her friend in cardiology. After abit of texting last week, Christina had said that she had a whole weekend off this week, and as she worked as a hospital nurse that really didn't happen very often. Margaret had been quick to suggest that her friend come stay over at her place for the whole weekend. If Christina traveled up on Friday, Margaret could likely dish up a late night dinner for them. Saturday they could check out the nightlife in town, and Sunday they could just chill out at home before Christina had to travel back in the evening. Both had agreed that this was a fantastic idea, no one knew how long it would be till the next opportunity arose, it could be another 10 months, so they decided to just do it. This is why Margaret was standing at the check out line with an unusually loaded cart this particular Friday afternoon.
It was after work rush hour, and on a Friday, you can imagine the stores were quite crowded. The line felt like it had lasted forever. But finally! The person right infront of Margaret was now the one being serviced at the register, so she took a step forward, gently stroaked her wawy brown hair behind her ears and started loading her items on to the counter. Vegetables, taco shells, spices, extra toilet paper, meat, some toast bread, a couple of cases with beer and a box of red wine (hey, no one care how sophisticated it is, as long as it gives you a buzz, right). She had planned to "surprise" Christina with tacos, it's what they used to have every Friday for the 5 years they used to live together. By the time Margaret had unloaded her cart the guy in front of her had finished, so she stepped forward to the register, asked for 5 plastic bags, paid, then walked to the end of the counter and started loading the groceries into the bags. While standing there, her right leg now sort of migrated to the same possition her left leg was in earlier. Foot on its toe and knee turned slightly inwards. Any boys who might have walked by could also have noticed that her big shapely buttocks seemed to be alittle tighter than normal, as if she were flexing them abit. The truth was, she really needed to use a restroom quite badly, and this was her body's practically subconcious way of relieving some pressure off of her pelvic muscles. Margaret was of course aware of this need, but she paid very little attention to it, and at 8/10 it's not like it was an emergency yet. She straigtened her right foot and put it down on the floor so that she stood there with her legs sort of loosely crossed over her calfs while she finished packing up her things. Five bags ready, she had to reposition her fingers a few times to catch a good grip on it, it was heavy, but with about equal weight in both hands this should be fine, and she started walking out of the check out area, into the main alleyway of the shopping mall, and towards the front entrence. Margaret was quite a sight on any day, with her volupteous curves, but walking down the mall this day with heavy bags in both her arms, and trying to keep her shoulders straight, it kind of accentuated her large breasts, that wabbled alittle bit with each step she took. She herself was not very confident with her body, all her friends were much slimmer, she thought she looked like a plump hippo, big boobs, a round buttom, and most of all she hated how her belly would sort of fold over the edge of her jeans/pants when she was sitting or bending. (Stupid girl, no one's stomack is flat when they are sitting down, she looked gorgeous). As she passed the restrooms, she shook her head to one side in an attempt to get one stubborn wawy brown hair lock out of her face. Her lovely blue eyes shot a longing look over her shoulder at the lady's sign in the short moments after she passed her last opportunity to go before getting home. It was too much of a hassle to get in there with all these bags, so without hesitation she continued out to the parking lot, and found her car.
Under normal circumstances she might even have considered stopping by the toilets for a quick pee, but not with all the bags, and she actually needed to do alot more than a neat little pee. It was however her bladder that kept nagging her the most though. She hadn't peed since lunch break, wich wasn't uncommon for her, she never peed inbetween luch break and upon getting home, but this day the shopping had taken longer than anticipated, and she could now feel her bladder press in her lower stomach area. Of course the shopping could've been done any of the previous 5 days, but Margaret had it with procrastinating everything. In the middle of the parking lot she halted for half a minute or so, partially so she could put down her bags and stretch her fingers, but equally much so she could cross her legs and bend over a little bit. It was quite bad, Margaret hadn't had to go this bad in several months. Her dark blue jeans were like painted on, skin tight, and kept pushing right around her waste line, and it didn't help that her intestines put pressure on her bladder from the inside either. Pooping was never something clockwork and regular for Margaret, she went number two maybe every other day or so, and it was usually one or two solid logs, but the consistency depended alot on what she had eaten. It was one of these big solid regular movements that was now filling her bowels, and making that extra pressure on her balloon of pee behind her uthrea. After renewing her grip of her shopping bags, she continued to her car. A few meters before she reached the old rusty Toyota that she called her car, she let rip this long muffled fart. She could feel the warmth linger in her bikini panties while it slowly seeped through the fabric. It lessened the pressure on her bladder ever so slightly.
"Fuck, I really don't wanna piss myself today!" Margaret thought as she reached her Toyota, and opened the back door in order to put in her groceries. Soon she would be in the privacy of her own car, that could only make it easier to hold herself. Even if she did loose a few spurts on the drive home, it wouldn't be a big deal, no one would see it, and it was far from the first time her driver's seat had been dampened by urine. She just didn't want it to happen today. Today was going to be a good day, Christina was coming. Besides, she had been doing so good lately, not even dribbled in her underwear in atleast 3 weeks, and she didn't want to break that possitive chain. You see, Margaret kind of had a habbit of never going to the toilet untill it was absolutely necessary, not because she despiced using public facillities or something, but more because she couldn't be bothered, and always tended to overestimate how easy it would be to hold it and just go at a later stage. It wasn't rare for Margaret to first head to the toilet after she had felt a few dribbles in her panties, or after she had started turtleheading. This, understandably, lead to freqent minor mishaps, and atleast a handful of times a year it would result in a full on shoe soaking and/or panty filling accident. This was not something Margaret was proud of, nor was she particularilly embarrassed about it either. It was just something that happens. Most of the friends she had had throughout the years had never teased her over it, some would be sympathetic, others would try as good as possible to act oblivious about the fact that their friend had just had an accident. Christina was one of the few that actually aknowledged it, she would kind of lightheartedly try to laugh and joke it off whenever it happened infront of her, and boy had it happened infront of her many times during the years they lived together. About every time they were coming home from a party, or just a long school day or something, Margaret would sprint ahead as soon as their apartment block was in sight, and by the time Christina made it inside and was taking off her jacket and shoes, Margaret would sheepishly emerge from the bathroom and head to her bedroom with a wet patch the size of a dinner plate on her jeans or dress. Other times Christina would come in to a pungent smell in the hallway, and hear the shower running. But back to this day, all this was to say that Margaret was no stranger to having accidents. She just really really didn't want to start of this great weekend with a big cleanup, even though the urgency of her needs more and more started to make her realize that the inevitable was going to happen.
Margaret shut the trunk, and walked up to the driver's door, crossed her legs while she opened it, and then slowly lowered her thick beautiful rounded butt into the seat. "God, I'm fucking not gonna make, again! Damn!!" Margaret thought to herself as her butt hit the seat, and the waistband and top button of her slim fit jeans dug into her lower belly, and a sharp pain became apparrent at the top of her bladder. She cursed herself for not going before she left work, this pain was too much to endure for her. Margaret was somewhat of a crybaby, if she felt any sort of pain, she would instantly start to feel tears well up in her eyes, and something tighen in the back of her throat. It was often at this stage she started leaking, partially because her muscles were too numb to hold back anymore, and partially she let it happen because it might relieve some of the pain. This was reaching that level of bad really fast. "I'm never gonna make this anyway, I might as well let out a good few spurts, this hurts, and I kinda already have to shower from this sweaty struggle of a drive home it's gonna be". The car could be cleaned. She knew from experience that if she scrubbed the seat with soapwater and let it air out, the smell of an accident would be mostly gone by 3-4 days. Actually, the center of the seat was a tiny bit discolored from all the times it had been wet, and on warm days a faint odor could almost always be smelled in this car, but not bad enough that anyone would notice unless they knew it was there. Not that it mattered, she commuted alone anyway.
The Toyota gave a roar as Margaret put it in gear, backed out of the parking spot, and turned out of the parking lot and on to the road. Sitting down driving, it was impossible to cross her legs, so she sat with her legs normally, but her left knee were bumping up and down at a rapid pace. Suddenly the knee stopped, her left hand shot to her croth and she sqeezed her thighs together. A few droplets left her labias and trickled down her perineum towards her asshole. Then a couple of more followed the same path. Margaret could feel a tiny bit of dampness on her index and middle finger. This was no use. She put her hand back up at the steering wheel, and let her legs migrate out to a natural sitting possition. No debate was needed in her mind, a decission was made to try relieve some of this pressure. She let out one half second spurt. Then a 1 second spurt. Then another 1 second spurt. By now an area around her whole pussy and down to her asshole was covered in hot wetness. It hadn't helped anything to relieve the pain inside her though. If anything, this had only intensified the urgency. "Screw it!" Magaret said out loud to herself. She sighed heavily, and her shoulders dropped atleast a couple of centimeters when she completely relaxed her pelvic muscles. An audible hiss could be heard as the stream grew to hit her clothes with full force. Now the wetness spread out over her whole buttocks, it went up inside her groins to completely circumference her hips. Then it proceeded to wet the insides and undersides of her thighs down to the knees, some pee started to pool up between her legs, and a little bit went up her buttcrack and wet the lowest of her back. "Aaah!" she sighed, "I fucking knew I wouldn't make it, I haven't pissed myself this bad since I passed out at Jordan's party, but heck what a relief". It felt like her whole lower half was wrapped up in a warm soggy towel. But her body wasn't finished yet. As the last drops of pee made their way out, she could feel a fart brewing. Without thinking properly, Margaret just let it rip like she would do anytime she was alone. In her euphoric relief she had halfway forgotten how badly she needed to go number two too. Two days worth pressing on her sphincter. She could possibly have helt it in untill she came home, but when she let out this 3 second fart, it set the whole process in motion. The first half was like a normal rippling fart, "prrftprr". The second half of it was like when you can feel air going around a big turd inside you, and sort of seep out through a half open asshole, "ffffffff". When the fart ended, her asshole never closed, the poop was right at the edge of her ring. Margaret tried to squeeze it back inside, but moving anything upwards seemed quite impossible, and squeezing only made something shift further up in the intestines, and it hurt alot. "I gotta pinch off a nugget". This was also not something too unfamiliar for Margaret. In fact, the last time this had happened was in January. Sometimes when she helt her poop for too long, it would start to turtlehead beyound the point where it could be pressed back in, typically this would happen on her drive home, and Margaret would often just let it slide out untill it stopped agaist the seat and pinch off the end of her poop in her underwear. A golfball or two was usually enough to make her able to hold it till she could finish on the toilet, atleast if she wasn't wearing a belt, then a bit more might typically squeeze out as she fidgeted and struggled to undo her clothes. Margaret relaxed her sphincter. "A little shit won't make any difference, the seat is already drenched in piss". The head of an enormous poop started slowly sliding out, and this felt just like doing a normal poop on the toilet, untill it met resisistance, it coiled up alittle bit right around her asshole, and formed a mushroom head the size of a potato, before it stopped. This was abit more than she had anticipated, and the part that was stuck inside her ring right then was so hard that she didn't know if she could even pinch it off. Margaret squeezed with all her strength, in one big effort her face scrunched up and her knokles whitened around the steering wheel, but she was unable to clench it off. When she relaxed again to draw her breath, the poop inched alittle bit further than before, as it filled out where the squeeze had flattened some poop and created alittle room. "Christ, it's a biggie". This was a very uncomfortable, sitting there with the log half in half out, something needed to be done. She started pushing, "mhmm". The poop extended slowly, and the warm ball around her asshole grew slightly, and it stopped again. With her butt sitting down, and her skintight jeans, the poop had no place to go. She kind of bit her lower lip, pressed her back against the back of her car seat, tried to hold her feet steady while still driving, and lifted her butt off the seat. "Mmmhhrrrrmmh". Her face grimaced up, her asshole stretched to its limit, and this hot sticky pancake spread out her buttocks. "Grrrrr". Her buttcrack was packed all the way up. There was still a pretty wide part going through her asshole. She panted alittle bit, and gave a final push. "MmGrrrhmmmgrrrr". The last bit of the poop was quite abit softer and warmer, it coiled up right around her assring, and to finish it off a 3 second spurt of piss shot out and splattered all over the already soaked seat. After a few heavy sighs and alittle breathing, she slowly lowered herself down into sitting again. The poop was so hard it hardly flattened at all. It felt like she were sitting on a melon.
The insides of Margaret's thighs already started to feel abit cool against her skin, as she pulled the Toyota into the main road and caught up with an SUV that were driving 10 km/h below the speed limit. "This ought to be one of the biggest craps I've ever taken on myself, glad I didn't wear a thong today, that would've been a mess", Margaret kind of nonchalantly thought to herself. She wasn't looking forward to the cleanup at all, and she never ever intended to have any accidents, but when they did happen it was never a big deal to her. She just saw it as another 15 minutes before she could start dinner. "Everybody piss and shit, pretty much several times a day, sometimes alittle bit ends up up in our underwear, so what, humans make mistakes, it's life". Wich was true though, all of Margaret's friends had had atleast one accident that she knew about. Christina, whom Margaret had lived together with for 5 years, had atleast had 4 accidents that she know of. 3 times Chistina had wet her bed after a drunk party, and one time she had an upset stomach while out jogging, and did a messy load in her running tights. But nothing came close the frequency she herself had full blown accidents though, wich had to be like every two three months or so. Margaret thought nothing more of it. It wasn't strange for her at all. "I guess some people piss themselves alittle more often, just like some people grow muscles faster than others, and some people even like pineapple on pizza, we're all genetically different". From her accident, her mind soon wandered off to the rediculously slow driver infront of her, and she wondered the hell this person had gotten his license. She turned on the blinker and drove passed this lame ass car.
Luckily, the rest of the 10 minute drive home went on without anything noteworthy. She pulled into the driveway of the old douplex suburbian house she could afford to buy half of when she moved back here. "Home, sweet home! Best place morgage can buy!". Margaret stopped under the roofed parking spot on her side of the house, eased herself out of the car, picked up her groceries from the back and waddled inside. By now the jeans were all cold and sticky. She left the shopping just inside the door to the kitchen, and hurried stiff legged to the bathroom. The saturated denim clung to Margaret's shapely thighs, and left a glistening shine on her upper legs as the pants were pulled off on the bathroom floor, then she hung her jeans over the edge of the laundry hamper to dry, and she could put on a wash after she had prepared the dinner. Now she squatted above the toilet, pulled down her heavily loaded bikini panties just enough to flip it around and dump the load, then she stepped into the shower with her panties still around her thighs to start the procedure of cleaning herself up.
.....................................................................................Thanks alot for reading!................................................................................................................................................. |
Reunion:
Christina stepped out on the railway platform after a two hour train ride from her own city to go visit her friend for a long awaited weekend of just chilling out, catching up on each other's lifes, and maybe drink some alcohol. Yay!! She traveled rather light, only a small-ish backpack with two changes of clothes, a couple of extra pairs of panties, and some makeup. Currently dressed only in a light pink t-shirt under her thin black soft-shell jacket, and a black running tights on her lower half, the wind was actually making her abit cold as she walked the 10 minutes from the railway station up to her friend's house, so maybe she should've packed something thicker. Christina had not been for a visit since Margaret moved back up here, but this "town" was so small that the city-girl Christina would sometimes call it a roadcross out in the farmlands to tease her friend, so it was quite easy for Margaret to explain where her new house were located relative to her old home and the trainstation. She was walking rather quick, Christina had a very fit body, tall and slim, almost a flat chest, but a musculous and firm bum and thighs. In highschool she used to be quite active in track running, and she still exercised regularily, so the roughly 2 kilometers to walk to Margaret's house was nothing for her. It didn't even bring out a sweat. As she reached what ought to be the right driveway, Christina walked up to the door, stopped to lift her sunglasses up from her nose and put them to rest ontop of her straight black hair that were made up in a tight sporty ponytail, before hitting the doorbell.
"Oh, you found the way", Margaret's voice greeted her as the door opened after only a couple of seconds. Christina run in past her friend, threw off her packpack, and jumped into Margaret's arms.
"Maggie mine, I've missed you sooo much!", Christina almost shouted as she squeezed her friend in a loving hug. She jumped alittle bit up and down joy, while still in a tightly locked hug, making them both fall over on the hall floor, and started to laugh hysterically.
"I'm so glad to see you too, Chrissy! It's been so lonely, with all work, and no one to vent out to at home! You're still my only true sissta, ya know" Margaret said kind of half serious while still laughing vigorously. By 'sissta' she of course meant soulmate and best friend, not that they were actually related or anything. They both stumbled back up on their feet, and Christina carefully put away her sunglasses that had fallen in the fall, before Margaret lead their way to the kitchen.
"Tacos is ready. Want to eat here or by the TV", Margaret asked as she opened the oven to check on the shells.
"TV, of course. It's the finale of Idol! But mind if I take a short pee first?"
"It's the door right behind you", Margaret replied to Christina, who were standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
It was a rather tiny compartment of a house, so Christina assumed the last door ought to be the bedroom. She entered the small bathroom, closed the door behind her, pulled down her black running tights just below her buttocks, swung her buttom down on the cold seat in the same motion, and let out a gushing piss. It lasted for about 15 seconds, then trickled on for another 10, before it finished with 3 little drops. She had peed last thing before leaving home, so she was by no means desperate, but to be honest Christina did have a pretty small bladder. If she was drinking alcohol, it often felt like she she spent more time going to and sitting on the toilet than actually partying, but even sober Christina tended to pee every two hours or so. Very opposite of Margaret, Christina always went as soon as she felt an urge, because with her tiny bladder it could become uncomfortable pretty quickly. Her bowels was the same, it didn't have the biggest capasity either, and she usually pooped 3 times a day, moring, mid afternoon and night. Today she had pooped during her last toilet break at work, so when she finished peeing, she just ripped off 1 slice of toilet paper and patted her labias dry. She pulled forward the front of her tights to look at her pink thong and menstrual pad in it. Christina had finished her period the day before, but she always wore a pad the next day just in case. The pad didn't have a singel drop of blood, but it had a decent yellow patch in the middle of it, from where she had cut it alittle too close around lunch today. Working as a nurse in busy hospital meant that it wasn't always as easy to take a detour to the restroom as she pleased, and she had probably had more emergecies and minor accidents in the last 10 months than in her whole life prior, though with her small bladder she had had quite a few before too. Atleast once a week she would end up with an egg size wet spot in her panties, and twice she had messed herself on the bus ride home. This was actually alot more than Cristina liked to admit, but she had heard other nurses complain about small dribbles too, it is likely just something that comes with this line of profession. That's how easy she shrugged it off, as she ripped out her pad from her thong and threw it in the trashcan by the toilet. She stood up, pulled up her tights and started washing her hands. That's when she noticed the laundry hamper right beside the sink, with Margaret's thuroughly soaked jeans hanging over the edge. I see someone never grew out of their habit of not going when they need to, Christina thought as she smiled by herself. She checked out a pimple on her left cheek in the mirror, before shutting off the water, and stepping out of the bathroom.
When Christina came back out from the bathroom, Margaret had put all the ingredients for the tacos on the little table infront of the TV, she had lit two candles on the table, and a few tea lights on the counter under the TV and in the window frame. With dimmed lights, and their favourite talent show about to start on the TV. It created a very cozy atmosphere, almost romantic, you know all the little details only women care enough to bother about. When guys meet up, there is a pizza in a cardboard box. Margaret however, had put all the different ingredients of the tacos in separate bowls and plates, almost covering the tiny coffee table completely. The two girls instantly started talking almost non-stop, it was alot to catch up on. They talked about how much they missed living with each other, about work, gossip about common friends and their latest dates, about one of the handsome singers on the TV, about how different make-up products could make your skin dry. The narrator honestly found most of this so brainless and boring that the details will be spared. Margaret put a handfull of beer cans out on the floor by the table too. Because the lack of space on the table, both girls made their taco shells, and sat back on the couch with the plates on their laps. They ate and ate, taking it slowly, as they had alot to talk about, sometimes commenting on the show they were watching, and occationally chugging down abit of beer, as the food were quite spicy, but they probably sat there eating and conversating for a good 2 hours.
Christina finished eating first, and went for a short pee again. As she was peeing, she could also feel her evening poop move down into her colon, but she didn't really want to do that right now, she could hold it intill bedtime. They were sort of in the middle of a conversation in the living room, it would be rude to take her time with a number two, and to be honest, Christina was actually abit shy about doing her stinky deed anywhere but at home. This is why she kept having close calls, and had actually had 2 accidents on her way home from work. She stopped her poop before it really started pressing on her asshole, and in the process cut off the last few seconds of her pee. She wiped, pulled up her tights, and proceeded to wash her hands. Christina half laughed by herself and shook her head as she again noticed the pissy jeans hanging over the hamper. It started to give off abit of an acrid smell in the whole bathroom now, she was abit curious and actually debated whether to ask Margaret what had happened, but she didn't want to embarrass her friend by asking any questions.
Back in the living room Christina sat back on the couch, and they continued right where it had dropped off. Currently the topic was a shampoo that apparently made your hair soft as silk, but that you could only buy at spesific hair stylists, costing a small fortune of course, as all good products with the right name do. In other words, they talked about all the normal boring stuff that all single girls in their mid twenties are interested in. Not much later, Margaret had cleaned up from the dinner, made ready some wine and cheese for them to snack on, and put up a Netflix movie through the Chromecast. They had both seen the movie before, so they could easily continue conversing while the movie ran, it was just nice to have something in the background to shift their focus to. It prevented awkward silence, wich both of them hated. The girls sat alot more relaxed now, Christina leaning on her armrest, and Margaret with one leg up under herself. Christina noticed Margaret shifted alittle around, she leaned her torso alittle backwards, gently opened the top button of her jeans with one hand, and gave out a sutile but audible sigh as she exhaled.
"Ate too much, huh?", Christina asked, and she rubbed her own still pretty flat belly as she continued: "I feel pretty full too!"
"More like drank too much beer, you of all know I love to wear jeans, but sometimes the top just keeps digging into my bladder!" Margaret said. "Appropos, be just back".
Christina saw Margaret get up even before she finished saying that, and jog off to the bathroom. She was gone for a while. After about 2 minutes Christina heard the toilet flush, and the sink start running. After that there was quite a long silence. Maybe a weak sound of rustling could be heard? Yeah! Sure enough, right before Margaret came back again, it was definitely the clear sound of the washing machine starting. When Margaret emerged, her cheeks actually abit blushed, and she looked quite embarrassed.
"God, I'm so sorry Chris, that you had to see that, I was going to put on the laundry before you came, but I must have forgotten" Margaret said, cheekbones beet red, as she walked back and sat down at the couch again. A single tear had actually formed in Margaret's left eye, it rolled a few centimeters down her cheek, before she quickly wiped it away with her right palm.
"Hey, don't sweat it Maggie, it happens to all of us" Christina answered in the most comforting voice she could manage. "You know I've done it, and I tell you what, when I saw those clothes the only thing I thought....... or... quite honestly.... I'm just relieved. Ever since I started working in the intensive care, I often end up leaking alittle piss in my thong, atleast like once a week". Christina could see Margaret's face cheer up alittle bit, she wasn't smiling or anything, but she didn't look like she was on the verge of crying anymore. Christina continued: "And so have a couple of my colleagues, whom I've deared mentioned this to".
"Yeah, I know accidents happens to everyone sometimes, but I still happens to me alot more often than it does to some others. The last time I fully pissed myself on my way home was only like a month ago.... And. Don't ever tell this to anyone, but I kind of did more in my jeans this afternoon". Margaret covered her face with both her hands in embarrassment as she said the last part, but she was very comfortable around her best friend, so she took her hands down again revieling an even redder face than before. "Alot more!".
"You've already seen me shit myself before", Christina said and laid a hand down on Margaret's knee. "Listen! How do you even know others aren't having accidents as often as you? Like, you and me have seen each other's accidents many times, because we've lived together for years, but it is hardly the thing you go out 'n tell people".
Margaret understood that reasoning, and her cheeks started to go back to a more normal colour as she answered: "You've got a point! Most of the times it happens to me too is in the car or on my way to the toilet, so rarely anyone knows about it". Margaret admited that. It wasn't like it was an extensive issue either, she wasn't incontinent or something, it was just very annoying for Margaret when she had accidents so often. "But I feel it does happen to me alot though, I am 26 freaking years, I got a fucking house and a job, but this is like the second time this year I have, well... Shit myself!... And if I think about it, I guess I probably piss myself more than once a month. Don't tell me that's common?".
"Well, I don't think there is an average number of times, it all depends on unfortunate circumstances", Christina answered about, as non-chalant as it is possible to be on this subject. "For example, I have gone a year without any incidents in the past, and another time I wet myself 5 times in 3 days".
"What?", Margaret's jaw dropped in amazement. She pecked Christina on her shoulder and said: "Then you ARE worse than me, girl.... Ya gotta tell me all'bout that".
"OK! OK! I'll tell you the story....", Christina scratched the tip of her nose, she took a rather deep breath, and started to very calmly elaborate. "You remember Brandon's spring break party 2 years ago, right? Half the people we knew at university got invited to that remote cabin deep in the forest, we were probably 10 or 12 people out there, just hangig at the campsite all weekend, barbequing, and getting hammered on booze, and weed, and what not... I think you slept on the couch, while me and a couple of others slept on the living room, as there were people sleeping everywhere.... The thing is, I pissed in my sleeping bag all three nights in a row. I don't think any of you noticed though, my strategy was just to pretend to be a long sleeper, waiting till everyone was awake and out in the sun, then just tuck away my bag. One of those days however, I woke up wet, but before everyone was up and out of the room, I kinda couldn't hold it, and I wound up taking my morning piss in my sleeping bag too. But if all that wasn't enough, the wierdest thing that I've ever experienced happened to me on that Saturday. It was so wierd! Some of us were sitting around the bonfire smoking in the late evening dark. Suddenly I noticed that my lap and bum were all warm and soggy. I had obviosly thuroughly pissed my pants, but I never even realised when it happened. But luckily I managed to sneak of and get changed........ So, yeah!...... That is probably my grossest weekend ever, especially as I ran out out of clean clothes, so on the last day I had to re-wear my dried up leggings from earlier".
Margaret started giggling alittle bit, almost in disbelief, but also in a way relieved, her look as she giggled at her friend's embarrassment expressed nothing but understanding, all these years they had had these little issues in common.
"I'm so glad that I was wearing black, and that everyone else too was too wasted to notice", Christina continued, also giggling, "if words spread out amongst the boys, I might never have gotten laid again".
"So true! Some of the guys are even shocked that girls can fart", Margaret said and rolled her eyes. Both girls broke out laughing.
After all this, both the girls jawned, and just wanted to sleep. It had been a long day. Margaret helped Christina fold out the couch into a makeshift bed, and she found some sheets, a pillow and a duvet for Christina to sleep on. Then Margaret said her goodnights, gave Christina a final hug, and she disappeared into her own bedroom. Christina went to the hall where she had left her backpck, and picked up her toothbrush, toothpaste and phone charger from a side pocket. She put the phone charger in by the couch where she was going to sleep, before heading to the bathroom, and started brushing her teeth by the sink. With her free left hand she tried to pull down her pants, it took some tugging at both sides, but when she had gotten her leggings down to about mid-thigh, she plumped her sporty butt down on the toilet. It took no effort, simply by relaxing the poop she had helt back earlier now slid out all by itself. "Plopp!". While still brushing her teeth, up and down, back and forth, and inbetween, she bent alittle forward. "Plopp!". She stopped brushing for a little while, just helt her toothbrush still in her mouth, and her face got a look of concentration. "Mmhhmmm... Plopp!... Ah!......... tssssss!". After finishing her last piece of poop, Christina continued to polish her smile while she took a 15 seconds pee. She stood up, waddled to the sink to spit and wash her mouth with her panties and tights around her thighs. Then she turned around and wiped her ass while standing facing the toilet.
..................................... Thanks for reading!............................................................................................................................................................................................ |
The unfortunate party!
Margaret woke up first on Saturday morning. The sun peaked through the edge of her bedroom blinders, as she got out of bed with the sleepiest face and her brown hair was messed up alot. She grinned her eyes when she tiptoed into the kitchen / livng room area to get a glass of water, while filling the glass she glanced over at Christina on the couch, wondering how her friend could still be sleeping in all this sunlight. Then Margaret headed to the bathroom to take a shower. She put on the shower, and while waiting for the water to get some temperature, she put down a towel on the toilet lid, and stripped off her white T-shirt and black bikini style panties that she had been wearing to sleep. Her naked body looked gorgeous, a big firm, round buttom, proportionately big and firm boobs, and a nice belly that was alittle bit round and soft in the middle. She stepped into the shower and started washing her beautiful body. First soaking everything in water, then started soaping in. After thuroughly washing her hair, armpits and torso, Margaret paused for a bit. She was standing with the soap bottle in her left hand, legs about a shoulder width apart, and she looked down. It took a few seconds before it started, but then a thic, dark yellow stream emerged between her legs, it arched forward and twisted alittle before it blended with the water from the shower. It lasted a good 45 seconds untill her bladder was competely empty. Then she proceeded to thuroughly soap in her crotch, groins, asscrack and feet, before she rinsed off her entire body, then just stood under the shower head and enjoyed the warm water for the rest of her shower. Right when she thought it was time to get out, it was a knock on the door. "It's open", Margaret shouted just as she shut off the water. Then she tried to shake off some excess water off her hair, before stepping out of the shower.
"Sorry! Couldn't wait!", Christina muttered as she rushed into the bathroom. Her face looked just as sleepy as Margaret's had earlier, with her black hair hanging down, only one eye half open, and she too had been wearing only a (black) T-shirt and her panties to sleep. When she entered, Christina's right hand was clenching rather hard on her pussy, the middle- and index finger were sort of digging into her crotch, making the front of her pink thong look a big W. With her free left hand, Christina handed Margaret the towel that was laying ontop of the toilet, then quickly opened the lid, and sat down on the seat with panties still on, and her fingers still buried deep in her peehole. She reached behind her back and under her butt with her left hand, then flicked her thong to one side, and in the same milisecond let out a gushing piss. "Oh, God! Ahhh!", Christina sighed heavily, then tried to rub some sleep out of her eyes.
Margaret had quickly dried off the wettest parts of her body, and tied the towel around her torso, now she stood by the sink and applied some lotion cream to her face. "Sounds like someone is having the orgasm of their life", Margaret commented as she heard Christina's moaning on the toilet right behind her.
"Never had an orgasm that felt as good as the first pee in the morning", Christina joked back. She finished her pee, wiped, and joined Margaret at the sink to wash her face and brush her teeth. Christina asked if she too could take a shower, and Margaret showed her the cabinet with the towels.
Margaret threw on a T-shirt and a lousy pair of sweatpants, then went to make some breakfast and brows through her social medias. When Christina came out of the bathroom after her shower, Margaret was sitting on the couch with a plate and a glass of juice on the table, a slice of bread with jam in her left hand, and scrolling on her phone with her right hand. Christina made herself a slice of bread too, with ham and cheese, before sitting down on the other end of the couch.
"We talked about going out today", Margaret started to say with her mouth full of food, but paused for a bit untill she had swallowed, and continued: "I mentioned the bar, but it seems some people we know are going to a house party, so maybe that's a better option".
"OK?", Christina looked back questioningly.
"It's at Katie's house. Don't think you know her... But Stephanie and Abigail is going, them you know, possably Maria and Todd, and Mark is in our goup too, but not sure if he is home or at work down in the South". Margaret elaborated: "Katie is a friend of mine from elementary throughout highschool, but she never went to University like me, Abby, Steph and Maria. Katie stayed locally, so to speak, married Roger and works at the supermarket. We have a Snapchat-group with all those friends from highschool that are still living in the area, it is there she has sent out a general invitation. Says Roger is firing up the grill for everyone who wanna join us".
Both girls agreed that this was a great plan, as these people Margaret mentioned were also close friends of Christina, from University. It was still early in the day yet, so they just decided to chill on the couch, watch TV and talk for the time being. An hour or so after they finished their breakfast, Christina went for a pee, and also did her morning poop at the same time. The girls then managed to pass time on the couch, phone in hand, and talking about this and that, untill it was almost 16:00. The invitation had said that the grill was warm and anyone welcome from 18:00. It was time to start preparations for the night. Margaret took out her makeup kits and hair products, and both girls started to fresh themselves up. Conversation still flowed, and smart tips and experiences were exchanged as they did their makeup side by side, occationally helping each other out with the hair and stuff. Probably well over an hour later, the girls were mostly done and started to pick out their outfits. Christina had brought a pair of skintight white jeans that really showed off her long, skinny but musculous legs and butt. Along with it she had a black belt with a rather big golden buckle, and on her torso she put on a black top that was no longer than a sports bra, leaving a good portion of her belly bare, showing off her navel piercing. White thong. No bra needed, as the top also served as that, and her cheast was pretty much as flat as it could be on a woman. Margaret chose something alot more traditional, as she always did. Her 'chubbier' built body was not something she was too confident about. She put on red bikini panties and bra, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a dark orange collage sort of sweater with a broad white stripe around the middle. Before they were ready to leave, both girls took a short pee. Then they headed out to the closest bus stop.
When they arrived at Katie and Roger's house five minutes to six, they saw that quite a few people were already there. It was a normal sized house, 2 floors, and fairly big garden. At the side of the house, there was a rather nice terrace with a grill and sitting space, then there was two steps to the ground, where there were two more tables on the grass. Margaret and Christina saw the people in the garden, and cut across the lawn instead of going to the front door. Katie, a black haired, rather short, normal built girl with a black T-shirt and some really short jean cutoffs, stood up and came to meet them. She greeted Margaret, and introduced herself to Christina. Margaret headed on inside to put the drinks she had brought in the fridge, leaving Katie to take Christina for a round of introducing her to all the other guests. On the table closest to them sat a bunch of local guys and girls that Christina didn't know, but they were friends of her friends, so she had heard many of the names before. Many of them had heard all about her too, judging by all the replies she got during the introductions. Bill, Steven, Linda, Ellanor and Joe. All seemed like really good, down to earth, country-side people, that can make you be really at ease in almost any setting. It felt more like meeting up with old aquaintances than actually introducing herself to strangers, so Christina had no doubts that this could be a nice night. On the table next to that Maria and Todd were seated, and Margaret who had just came out from the house again. Them Christina knew very well. Maria had been in their common circle of friends at University, and Todd was her long term boyfriend who had spent almost every weekend partying with them in University. Both Katie and Christina sat down on this table, leaving the people sitting on the terrace unintroduced to Christina, but Katie pointed out who of them was her husband Roger, and explained that the older couple sitting there was their next door neighbours.
Soon after Christina and Margaret sat down at the table with Maria, Todd and Katie, two more of their friends from University arrived too. Stephanie and Abigail. Stephanie sat down by them all, while Abigail just waved at them and said: "I gotta go take a piss first, before we eat". Then she further informed them that: "Steph here refused to stop the car so I could piss on the side of the road, like who cares". Abigail was the most outgoing and free speaking of them all, even more so than both Christina and Margaret, even though they were quite free speaking too. She would curse, swear, talk completely without inhibitions, she would announce whenever she needed to fart in public, and sometimes she just pulled down her pants and peed openly on the side of the road. All of this to her friends' annoyance, especially Stephanie, her closest friend, but also the most reserved in the gang. Abigail was a true Hippie, and she looked like one too. She had light red hair that ended about mid neck, she was rather pale and skinny, her buttocks was abit saggy, her boobs were small but pointy, and often poked through her shirt. Today she was wearing a green and white striped shirt, and a jean overall. Underneath that she was wearing black granny panties, and a tight pantyhose to make her butt look firmer. Her friends used to tease her that she had never owned a bra, nor a razor.
"Hey, I'll join you, and you can show me where the restroom is", Christina said as she jumped up and followed Abigail inside. From the terrace they entered a rather large living room, and straight across there into a hallway with several doors and a stairs. Abigail reached for the restroom door, but before she entered she informed Christina that there was another bathroom upstairs, first door on the left. "Thanks, Abby! You know my drinking bladder", Christina said, and decided to follow up on that. She was by no means desperate now, but knowing where the second toilet was would definitely come in handy later in the night, because whenever Christina was drinking she always had to pee rediculously often. When she walked up the stairs, Christina reminded herself that she HAD to go at first sign tonight, no matter what, as she absolutely could not live it down if she peed herself at the house of a friend's friend. She had done that in high school once, and really embarrassed both the people she knew and didn't knew. Luckily, most of her social circle changed when she got into University.
The bathroom upstairs was a rather big one, with a toilet, a bathtub and a stand alone shower. Christina entered, and stood there checking her makeup in the mirror for quite a while, before she calmly opened her belt and white jeans, and sat down on the toilet. She peed for about 20 seconds, then just sat there trying to push. It was alittle early for her evening bowel movement, but she wanted to do it now before they started drinking, as she hated to poop when she was drunk. Too often alcohol would make her poop wet and messy, and when you are tipsy it is hard to wipe properly. After sitting down for several minutes, Christina managed to push out two small poops. She wiped, buckled up her jeans, and proceeded to wash her hands.
When Christina came back out everyone had started preparing their food, some were grilling, others were mixing a salad, and some were just mingling, drinking and talking. Christina joined in like they were all a big family. She opened a beer can, and sat down with her friends. Katie gave her a plate, Maria came back from the grill with stakes, and Margaret had made a bowl of salad. The conversation, laughter and gossip flowed freely around the table, as they enjoyed a good meal and drinks together. Christina just couldn't help herself from asking if the guy who presented himself as Joe was the same guy Margaret had told her about before, whom she had been dating in high school. Margaret nodded: "Yeah! He is from a farm right up here. Looks like one of them though, macho redneck guys, doesn't he? But he is really sweet and mellow on the bottom!".
"Well, I guess! Huh?", Christina said, giving Margaret a suspicious look.
"Nah, we parted as friends when I went to University.... By the way, I heard he's together with Ruth now", Margaret said, trying to give off the impression that she didn't still have feelings for him, wich wasn't entirely true.
"Together is a strong word, Ruth is with a different guy each weekend", Stephanie intervened.
"Haha, Ruth has probably had more guys than all of us combined, I sort of envy her for that", Abigail said with a big grin on her face, just to mock her friend's conservative attitude. She herself identified as pansexual, and had likely had just as many partners. "Can someone pass me the ketchup", Abigail continued, just to change the subject, and as she lifted her buttcheek alittle bit and let out a big fart: "Pprrrffftt!.... Sorry, guys, abit gassy!". This was so typical of Abigail, so the other girls just shook their heads and giggled, and Christina passed her the ketchup flask.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Katie felt alittle chill go up her upper arms, a cold breeze was in the air, and the sun had set a while ago. Everyone had finished eating, and were now just mingling and drinking by their tables. Roger had put on some music. It started to get pretty cold for Katie, who was only wearing short jean cutoffs and a black T-shirt. She shivered alittle, and rubbed her palms up and down her thighs a few times, before taking up her phone to check the time and if there were any updates on social media. She crossed her legs under the table, and continued to stroak her free hand up and down her thigh, as she opened up Facebook. Not only was she pretty cold, she actually had to pee quite bad too. She only became aware of it now, but thinking about it, she hadn't been to the bathroom since before the first guests arrived, and she had chugged down several beers. She crossed her thighs alittle tighter, adjusted her sitting, and opened up Instagram. Nothing new there either. Then Snapchat, a couple of videos from other people partying, and a picture of her sisters baby in the sandbox. She jawned briefly, and put down her phone. Looking up, she saw that everyone seemed to be enjoing themselves. It made her kind of happy that she and Roger had decided to put this together for all of them, as the local pub was usually really dull, and almost never did all these friends meet up at once. Right then Margaret's friend, Christina, just came out the terrace door. Katie had seen Christina go in a couple of times during the dinner too, so she assumed she either had a small drinking bladder, or she was nerveous about being at a new place with many new people. But even Christina seemed to be having a good time with her friends, she thought, wich made her feel this was a thing she and Roger had to repeat. Again Katie felt a twinge in her bladder, so much that one of her hands moved automatically towards her crotch, but she managed to stop herself. Better head to the toilet, she thought. She told the person beside her that she would be right back, and then she walked calmly inside.
The restroom downstairs was a rather small one, just enough space to fit a toilet and a sink. Katie entered, and just as she closed the door she started stepping from foot to foot, like she was walking some invisible stair. She continued this awkward fidgety steps while she struggled to undo the 5 buttons of the fly. Finally. She hiked down her jean shorts, and managed to swing her butt into a hight squat above the toilet, before a stream shot out like a garden hose. The stream arched alittle backwards and scattered a few dropplets on the toilet seat. Katie smoothly lowered herself into sitting down, while she was still pissing full force. "Aaaahhh..... Ooooh...", she moaned out loudly. Her eyes rolled backward. This relief was actually, 100% honest, better than the morning sex she had with Roger today. The euphoric relief of emptying her bladder lasted over one and a half minute, before it died down. She lifted her butt of the seat, shook it slightly, and pulled up her panties and shorts in one motion without wiping. She never used to wipe, just dripdry. When she was about to button up her jean shorts, her body frooze a moment, as a two second warm spurt came out of her uthrea. It saturated her panties, and she looked down to see that it had made an egg sized dark spot on her shorts too. "Like, what the heck?", Katie said out to herself. It was like her body was too desperate and tensed up to fully empty, and only after she thought she was finished had her body relaxed enough to let out the last spurt. Strange. This had never happened to her before. Katie usually had a bladder of steel. No matter how desperate she got, she could still hold on for ages, without any problem. Not like most of her friends, whom she knew had occational accidents. Hell, even Roger had them, but she herself couldn't remember peeing herself no more than once or twice in adulthood. Atleast while awake. She did sometimes wet her bed at times when she was particularily stressed out or anxious about something, but that was completely different. That is what made this even wierder to her. It was totally out of the blue. Well, best not to dwell too much on it. It happened. Katie skipped fastening her shorts, just went straight to wiping off the toilet seat, closed the lid and washed her hands. Then when she was ready, she poked her head out of the restroom door, and looked around. She confirmed that everyone was still outside, and decided to discretely head upstairs to change.
In her bedroom, Katie removed her wet clothing. She folded the shorts with the wetter panties still inside it, and she hid them in the back of the closet, where they were safe till she could wash them tomorrow. As sweet as Roger was, and knowing he was hardly a person to judge anyone, she knew that he would only be sympathic if he found out that his girlfriend had peed herself. But Katie just didn't want him to know. It was something about feeling confident with herself, therefore she hid all the evidence behind some other clothes in the closet. Then she picked out some new clothes for her bottom half. She jawned and scratched her naked groin while she looked into her bedroom closet, then picked up two items. A sexy g-string for Roger to discover later. Hopefully he would be in mood for another round before bed tonight. As outer clothing, she picked a pair of brown sweatpants. She tied the knot on her pants, and left the bedroom.
When Katie stepped back out on the terrace, she turned the volume on the speakers to almost zero, and spoke up so that everone could hear her: "Hey, folks! It's getting pretty cold out here, I say we move the party inside". She unplugged the speaker to take it into the living room, everyone started to gather up their drinks and stuff, and followed suit. Moving the party inside was something Katie had planned to do even before going to pee, she was freezing her ears off, and she definitely didn't wan't Roger to freeze his dick off, but now it also had the wanted side effect of giving her a perfect smokescreen for changing into long legged sweatpants.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abigail sat on the couch in the living room, trying to engage as normal as she could in the converation that was flowing around the table. The music was blasting, a few were actually trying to dance in the middle of the living room. Some of the quieter partyers, the older neighbour couple, and Todd, who had offered to be the designated driver were sitting at the dining table. The rest of them were scattered around, in, on top of, or on the floor around the couch area. The converations were loud, some were screaming, shouting, laughing, and a few were actually trying to sing along with the music. Ontop of all that, Steven was sitting on the armwrest on the opposite end of the couch playing some riffs on an accustic guitar. It was ringing in Abigail's ears, and she zoned out for a bit. She had been drinking really heavily since the dinner, plus the couple of drinks her and Stephanie had had even before they got there. The alcohol was really starting to set in, and her head had become quite heavy, often tilting abit to one side. Another heavy feeling was present further down, in her guts. Abidail hadn't taken her daily poop yet today, and the big meal earlier had made her quite backed up. The need was growing more urgent, but in her drunken state she had a too good of a time to care about such. Atleast for now. She zoned back in again as Christina, who was sitting right next to her, excused herself to go pee for probably the fifth time in the last hour. Abigail just turned to the other side to join another conversation. Her own speach had started to become quite sloppy by now, as she had went way past the line of being just tipsy, and well into the stage of being properly drunk. The person she turned too didn't seem too interested in talking to her. They seemed engaged in some kind of discussion, that Abigail was alittle too drunk to pick up what was, but she didn't care either. She just sat back and rocked her head to the beats of the music. Not long after, she bonskied her beer bottle, and it made her wonder if she should go get another one, or if she should take a detour to the toilet first. That decission was made alot easier, because she got a big cramp that made her bend alittle forward and clench her butt. She had to go to the toilet now, or things could get messy, so she drunkenly stumbled on her feet.
In the hall, Abigail reached the door to the restroom, but it was occupied. She leaned against the wall beside the door as she waited. It didn't take very long before another cramp hit her. Abigail leaned her back against the wall, she closed her eyes, flexed her buttocks, and pressed one of her hands into her buttcrack as to try hold back this stomach cramp back. "God, please no, not now, not here", she though inside her head. Everyone knew that Abigail was one of the most open people in this whole town. In middle-school already had she told the whole community that she was bi-sexual. But there was one thing no one knew about Abigail. It's that she sometimes pooped in her pants. Last year she shit herself 3 times, and she was 25. It was NOT done on purpose, like a sick fetish or something, that would actually kind of be alot easier for Abigail to talk talk freely about. It was exactly the fact that this wasn't something she could control that made it abit embarrassing. She had no problem announcing her need to go to the toilet, she had no problem doing her business openly in public, she could even go in a cup (during car rides) or something if she had to. It was just that the urge had a tendency to come on so abruptly, and so strong, that she didn't always have time to find a place to pull down her pants. She dreaded the huge embarrassment it would be to tell all your friends that you had to leave the party because you shit yourself. Everyone who have partied for real have taken a piss in their pants at one time or another, but messing yourself was at a whole different level. She cinserly thought that today was the day it was going to happen, right at this moment, but faith wanted it otherwise. The wave in her bowels slowly subsided, and Abigail breathed out relieved. It was first then she thought about the bathroom upstairs, in her drunkenness she had forgotten that option, so to avoid the thing that would most definitely happen if she didn't do anything, she decided to go for that, and started climbing the stairs, praying she would make it.
Abigail reached the top of the stairs with no problem. It was probably three meters from the top of the stairs to the bathroom door, she sprinted that distance while three juicy farts rippled out in rapid succession, leaving her asshole feeling kind of warm inside her black granny panties. She made it safely inside the bathroom, closed the door, turned her butt towards the toilet, and started the process of taking off her jean overalls. It didn't take long though, because before she could do anything, the inevitable happen. While fumbling with the clasp near her left breast, she could feel another fart come and press itself out against her will. Except this wasn't a fart. Instead of her asshole just shifting alittle bit to let out some air, it just continued to open up further and further, untill a huge, soft, but still solid ball of poop pressed out of her. She couldn't have stopped this next thing even if she had tried really hard to, as right after the ball came out and settled in the seat of her full cut pantries, a wave of much softer mash followed. It filled out an area around the slightly firmer ball, and it felt alot warmer against her skin. Some of it spread out on her buttocks, into her crotch, and alittle bit ecaped the legbands of her panties and went a couple of centimeters down both her thighs. In the middle of all this, she had lost control of her bladder for four or five seconds too, making this a complete messy disaster. Abigail finally managed to unfasten both the suspenders of the overalls, and pulled it down to her knees. She squatted down over the toilet and gently pulled down her pantyhose, then her heavily filled panties. Some of the poop splashed into the water, but because of how soft the load had beed, and because of Abigail's substancial bush of pubic hear, alot of poop was still caked to her skin. She sat down on the toilet, and inspected the damage to her garments, while proceeding to let out the rest of her pee. In her panties there was still a huge sticky mass. Her pantyhose also had a fair amount of poop in them, and a wet area covering most of the upper thighs. The jean overalls seemed mostly clean though, except a tennis ball sized dark patch in the crotch.
The knot in Abigail's throat tightened, some tears started welling up in her eyes, and she hung her head down, as she began softly crying. Her red hair fell forward, covering her face, and cold salty tears rolled down her cheeks and along the ridge of her nose. She sniffed a few times. The thing she feard so much had happened now. She had shit herself at a party, and now all of her friends were going to know about it. Usually Abigail wanted people to see her as crazy, wierd and unique, but it was always for things she was in control of. It was the first accident this year though, she hadn't had any close calls in a long time, but in return she had now taken one of the messiest poops she had ever taken in her pants. Most of her poops was more solid, and didn't smell too strong, so the few times she had soiled herself infront of anyone, she had always managed to get away with it by making jokes of how bad her farts stunk. Now, if people saw that she sat here with here with pants full of wet shit, they would definitely know that she had lost control of herself. No explaining her way out of this one. But it is strange how incidents like this can sort of make you sober up abit. After wiping away all the tears from her face, and looked down on herself one more time, she decided to see what she could do about it. While still sitting down on the toilet, she removed the jean overalls, and threw it on the floor. Then she carefully removed the pantyhose and the panties the same way, trying not to make an even bigger mess than necessary, she packed the ruined clothes into the trashcan beside the toilet, as they were unsaveable, and made sure to hide it by putting down a layer of toilet paper ontop. Trying to clean her own butt and legs with only toilet paper was going to be to absolutely no use at all, so she decided to borrow Katie's shower without asking anyone. She jumped in the shower, and rinsed herself as clean as anyone can do when they are that drunk. A handcloth was all she could find to dry herself off with. After using alittle toilet paper on the crotch, the jean overalls was ready to be put back on again. It wasn't that bad. If someone noticed it, they might just assume she had lost alittle spurt while she waited in line for the restroom. Everyone did that occationally. She decided to just join the party again, and pretend like nothing happened.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Margaret sat in the couch, flirting alittle with one of the boys, when Todd said out loud that him and Maria were heading home really soon, and those who had talked about riding with them had to get ready. Christina wrapped up her conversation with the guy, and found Christina, Abigail and Stephanie in conversation in the kitchen. Margaret informed Christina that their lift was leaving now, and said they better get ready, unless they wanted to walk back home. Abigail and Stephanie had changed their minds, they wanted to go to an afterparty at one of the boys' place. Christina said she was ready, she just grabbed her purse, and went for a last pee before leaving. Seeing Christina go to the restroom, made Margaret think about her own bladder. It was pretty full, and starting to throb against the waistband under her small pot belly. She had been too preoccupied with having a good time, that she had totally neglected her bodily needs, and when she now thought about it, she realised that she actually had to go real bad. Thinking about it, she had only peed once since they got there, and that was early on. She thought about taking the oportunity to pee after Christina was done, but right as Christina came out of the restroom, Todd asked if they were ready, so Margaret decided that it would likely be more convenient to hold it untill they got home. She didn't want to keep everyone up, besides, it was a rather short drive back anyway, she could easily hold it. The 4 of them got into the car, Todd driving, Maria in the passanger seat, Margaret and Christina in the back. Todd fired up the engine, and backed out of the driveway.
All of them was going in the same direction, Margaret's house was located not too far from Maria and Todd's house, so it wasn't much of a detour for Todd to drive them home. Maybe good, as Maria didn't seem very well, she had gotten alittle too much at the party, and was about to pass out in the passanger seat. It was a 10 minute drive, but almost not a word was spoken. Todd, after one failed attempt, just accepted that everyone were probably worn out from the party and in no mood for small talk. That was definitely the case with Christina, who was really tired after a long week of work, and now a nice reunion party with her friends. She didn't have the stamina for partying she used to have, as her life lately consisted mostly of working long shifts at the hospital. For Margaret though, the reason for not initiating any conversation was quite different. After having realised the signals from her bladder, she just couldn't 'unrealise' it again. It was getting so urgent and painful that Margaret wasn't sure if she was going to make it. She had to focus all of her willpower at clenching her sphincter muscles to hold it, while trying not to hold herself or be too obvious about fidgeting. Pretending to fumble through something her purse made a good cover for squirming and shifting alittle in her seat. She found out that sitting with her thighs tightly pressed together, and straightening her back, was the possition that put the least stress on her ballooning bladder. At one time she thought she was going to flood her tight dark blue jeans then and there, but holding her breath, biting her underlip and rocked her hips alittle back and forth, made her able to ride out the wave. Well, alittle bit might have escaped, because when Todd pulled the car into Margaret's driveway, there was already a small coin sized wet spot on the crotch of her jeans. With the words: "Sorry, gotta piss!", Margaret jumped out of the car, slammed the door, and disappeared inside, almost before the two other sleepy girls had even realised that the car had stopped. Christina, on the other hand, took her time. She thanked Todd for giving them the lift back, they briefly exchanged a few words about how nice it had been to gather everyone again, and Christina reminded they would always have a standing invitation at her apartment in the city.
By the time Margaret had sprinted from the car, across the gravel, and to her front door, the wet spot on the front of her jeans had grown from the size of a coin to the size of a palm. She had had the key ready in her hand since atleast halfway in the drive, but before she had put it in the keyhole and turned it, another bigger spurt managed to shoot passt her clenched muscles, making the wet patch the size of a dinner plate, with two narrow streaks running down her inner thighs. Margaret threw the door open, and ran in. It was about four steps across the hall to the bathroom. With each step, alittle bit of pee leaked out and seeped down her legs. She almost dove into the bathroom, swung around, closed the door, and squated down in one continuous motion. In a low squat on her own bathroom floor, Margaret had no willpower left in her body. Along with a huge sigh, her body completely relaxed all the tensed up muscles, and a tear of joy and relief rolled down her left cheek. A warm soggy feeling instantly spread out and covered Margaret's entire curveous bum. Streams and drops splattered and splashed all over her calfs, socks, shoes, it started pooling up on the floor under her. It made a sound like when it is raining on a tent. Smaller pools around her feet gathered into one puddle, and grew and grew until it was atleast a meter around her in every direction. She lost track of time, but it had to be atleast two full minutes before the stream subided, and started to slowly die down. After it had all finished, Margaret was still staring sheepishly into empty air, and she gave yet another sigh.
When Christina walked up to the house, she saw that Margaret in her hurry had left the front door wide open. She stepped inside, and locked the door. Christina took off her shoes, and went straight to the living room, where she crashed on the couch that was made up as a guest bed. Not even bothering to remove her clothes, she just turned over on her side, pulled the duvet over herself, and fell asleep within a minute.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At some stage, maybe a few hours later, when Christina was in her deepest phase of sleep. She was laying on her side, in a sort of recoery possition, her face scrunched up against the pillow, and the duvet was mostly stuffed between her legs, leaving her clothed body uncovered. Christina was in a deep dreamless sleep, so her mind had no recollection of her tired muscles, who had been holding back a slowly growing pressure, just gradually gave in and relaxed. A warmth streamed down her left thigh, it pooled up around her left hip, and it some spread up her belly. Her white jeans turned a more transparently white colour. The duvet between her legs grew heavier and warmer as it soaked up the urine. A dark damp stain grew on the light beige blanket on the couch, and stopped only when it stretched from her knees to the lower of her chest.
-------------------------------------------Thank you for reading---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edited June 14, 2020 by ed2
(see edit history) |
Sorry for an an extremely long wait. I wrote about half of this back in June, then sort of forgot about it, and only recently picked it up again. I don't think this is finished yet, but it needs maybe one more part, but here is what I have for now.
Hungover wakeup
On the early dawn of Sunday morning, Christina turned over on her back, and tucked the duvet around her body as pure reflex, as she was still unconciously in a deep sleep. It was so warm, and her body sweated heavily under the thick blankets, as she was still fully clothed. Her armpits, cheast and back were growing more and more clammy, almost moist. But it was far from the only thing that made her damp and clammy. She was sleeping in the middle of a gigantic, now mostly dried up, wet patch that covered an area almost a meter in diameter. Christina had never woken after she wet the couch in the middle of the night, now it was late morning several hours later, and the diuretic alcohol had dried out her body, making her bladder pretty full once again. Without her mind being concious about it, her body slowly relaxed its muscles, and strong smelling dark yellow morning piss started to trickle out. It wetted her crotch, and stained an area around her pussy, extending alittle bit up her groins, then continued down her ass. A small puddle formed where her fit shapely buttocks dug into the couch, warming up her bum and inner thighs, before it slowly soaked into the cushions beneath her. This repeated itself a couple of times during the next several minutes, untill Christina's bladder once again was completely empty. She groaned softly, as she shifted and turned over on her side again.
Margaret woke up first on Sunday morning too, like she usually did. She had always needed less sleep than her friend, often waking up long before her when they lived together too, but on this particular day it may be more due to the fact that Margaret had been holding back on the drinking alittle bit, because she had had to pee quite badly for the last part of the night, while Christina had sipped freely until they left the party. Margaret turned over on her belly, and tried to fall asleep again, but she ended up just tossing and turning not quite able to doze off again. She was probably all rested, she had slept for 7 hours afterall, and had been pretty much sobered up before she hit the sack. But there was also another thing that kept her from being able to fall asleep again. A vague twinge in her bladder. She wasn't desperate, but she could definitely have producesd a substancial wizz if she had decided to go for one, but she didn't. Instead, Margaret picked up her phone, and managed to pass possibly an hour or two just scrolling through pictures and watching meaningless videos on social media.
When Christina woke up on the couch some two hours later, she had no idea Margaret was awake in her bedroom. Christina just stretched out her incredible long fit body, she could feel a tingle from the tip of her toes to her fists as she tensed up, arched her back, gave a huge jawn, and then exhaled. Putting one palm on her forehead, she started to assess how she was feeling. A mild headache, as expected after a night of drinking. Her throat felt dry, and her armpits clammy with sweat. After that thought, she suddenly realised something that was alittle bit worrying. She felt no need to pee. Christina was almost always dying to pee first thing in the morning, so that could only mean one thing. Fumbling alittle to get her arms under the duvet, she could confirm that she had royally pissed herself during her sleep. "Damn!", she thought, "why do I always have to overdo my drinking?". She lifted her butt slightly up to one side, just so that she could press two fingers deep into her asscrack, rubbing alittle on her asshole through her jeans. "Thank God!", she said quietly when she exhaled. While it was all moist and soggy, she felt no mass or lump back there. You see, wetting her bed happened more times than not when Christina was drinking alcohol, but she would also occationally wake up afer having properly messed herself. It ought to be some of the most disgusting experiences ever, waking with your bum caked in chunky liquid crap. and even worse if there is a puddle of puke on your pillow too. On two or three such occations Christina had actually thrown her bedding in the trash, instead of trying to wash them. Fortunately, that was not the case today. Today she had only wet herself, but in return she had wet her friend's couch, and she had done so royally. She fumbled alittle more around with her hands to feel around her. This ought to have stained through to the couch, it was soaked all around her. How was she going to explain this to her friend? Well, no reason to cry over spilt milk, she just had to bite the sour apple and get up.
Christina rolled herself off of the couch, and she felt a rush of air against her wet clammy butt as she stood up and started to strip off the covers. The white skintight jeans Christina had worn had turned a yellowy see through all over her butt and thighs. The sheet had a huge round darker stain almost a meter in diameter. She took off the sheets and coiled it up with the duvet covers. Luckily the couch was black leather, so it would take no permanent damage, but she felt the stripped off duvet with her palm, and it was alittle moist too. "Shit!". She put it all in a pile with the sheets and then headed to the bathroom to clean up herself too. Entering the bathroom and opening the washing machine Christina saw that there was already something in there. She dropped her pile on the floor and reached into the drum to see if it was something that could be washed together with the sheets. "Eww!" Christina wrinkled her nose as she lifted up the fabric in the machine. It was only one piece in there, the jeans Margaret had worn last night, and it reeked of stale dried up piss. Christina blushed, feeling kind of embarrassed about finding out that her friend likely hadn't made it in time when she sprinted in from the car. Embarressed, because it would be abit awkward when Margaret would notice that Christina had put on the wash, as she would know that she knew about her accident then. Truth be told, it also made Christina feel quite abit better about herself, pissing on her friends couch when she was only there as a guest. Atleast she wasn't the only one who had had an accident last night, and that made it alittle easier to admit and apologise for wetting the couch, wich she had to do afterwards. First however, she had to take a much needed shower. She undid the belt and proceeded to pull down her tight white seethroughy jeans, wich turned completely inside out, as the wet denim clung to her wet skin. Cold air rushed against her bare buttom as she bent down to tuck the whole pile into the washer, she set the program and hit start. Then jumped into the shower.
In the bedroom Margaret was still watching through Snapchat stories from last night, when she heard someone rumbling around and walking in doors in the living room. Christina is definitely awake, she thought as she turned over in bed and started rubbing some sleep out of her eyes. It was time for her to get up too, if this had been a normal Sunday morning she likely would've snoozed in bed untill the better half of the afternoon had past, but she felt it was rude to let her guest be alone, so she got out of bed and threw on a lousy T-shirt for modesty. In the hallway she heard the shower running, and when she came into the living room she saw that Christina had stripped off the bedding on the couch. Nice, not all guests are that dedicated. She walked over to the kitchen sink, pulled out a glass from the cabinet and filled it. "Some water will help for the headache and hangover", she thought, while she subconciously lifted her right leg so that her thighs were sort of pressed together, and downed the whole glass. The glass was put down, and Margaret started to prepare some things that she and Christina could have for breackfast. Occationally she would stop and cross her legs as she was fetching something in one of the cabinets, or when she paused to get an overlook on what she had in her fridge. Soon she had mixed together some easy breakfast for the two of them, concisting of bread, cheese and salad. Trying to stay healthy, right? She carried everthing over to the living room table, and turned on the TV while she sat down on the couch to wait for Christina to finish her shower. The need to take a leak was starting to feel uncomfortable. Even if she felt she had pissed up a firehose in her jeans last night, right before she went to to bed, it was now almost at the same level. She hadn't even drank anything since then, but the bladder must have drained her body and filled up rappidly during the night, like often is the case with alcohol. Her legs crossed, and rocking alittle up and down, she hoped her friend would be out soon, so she could go shower and release this pee herself. Luckily, just as she was about to consider her alternatives she heard the shower turn off, and a few moments later Christina emerged with wet messy hair and a towel wrapped around her body.
"I'm sorry, I hope it's OK that I'm dressed in only this towel for a while, I threw my sweaty clothes in the washer along with the linnen", Christina asked, and sat down at the other end of the couch. She bent down to her backpack that she had left at the floor the day before. "Actually, I can put on my clothes from earlier".
"As you please", Margaret replied, trying not to sound like she was on the brink of wetting herself. "You know I wouldn't care either way". She uncrossed her legs while trying to keep her thighs as closely locked as possible. "See, I just set out some food on the table, so help yourself if you're hungry". Margaret's torso inched forward and she slowly rose on her feet, before putting her left hand on her crotch and giving her peehole a good squeeze. "Now if ya don't mind, I'm going to take a shower, and if I'm bein' quite honest, I might have a vague urge to pee as well", she said with a smirk on her face as she gesticulated an only slightly exaggerated pee-dance on her way from the couch to the hallway.
Christina giggled. "You silly. You could've knocked... And you know, that's how it is every morning for me". The last bit she was almost shouting, as Margaret was already around the corner and out of sight.
In the bathroom Margaret removed her hand from the front of her panties, in the same move she also crossed her legs just to aid abit in her holding. This gave her enough time to take off her T-shirt, before stepping into the shower with her panties on. She gripped her thumbs inside the waistband and pulled them down, but the panties had only gotten alittle bit past her hips when she let go of her aching sphincter. Dark yellow morning piss started running down Margaret's thicc thighs, soaking the back of her panties, and making that characteristic dripping-water-in-a-bathtub sound as the pee hit the shower floor. She kicked her panties off, leaving them by the drain to rinse off during her shower. Then she straightened her back and turned on the water, while piss was still pouring down with full force. Some trickled along her skin, some formed an unsteady flickering stream between her legs, and it all lasted well over a minute. "Ppprrrrffffsssqqqqcccrrrt". A fart ripped just as she was pushing slightly, to get the last drops of urine out. That fart had more substance to it than Margaret had anticipated, her stomack felt like it shuffled some air inside her guts, and a teaspoon of geasy brown mush squeezed between her bumcheeks. Without emotion, she just lifted off the showerhead and brought it to the lower of her back, then used her other hand to clean her crack. She would definitely need need to take a massive soft poop later in the evening, as she always did on a day after drinking. But it could wait. Now she turned around, started washing her hair, and just thought about what she and Christina should do for the remaining of their time untill Christina had to go home.
-------------------------------------------Thank you for reading--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
Almost home!
"Did you have a good time last night?", asked Margaret as she came back into the living room. She had put on a white pair of comfy granny panties, and some really loose, light grey sweatpants on her lower half. The top half bein bare naked, except a towel that was wrapped around her freshly showered hair. Her two voluptous udders wiggled in synchrony as Margaret plumped her bossom down on the couch beside her friend.
"If I did! I haven't socialised this much in ages", Christina answered with a big grin on her face. "I did know some of them, but even the ones I had never met before treated me like an old friend, so I felt like I was really included".
"Countryfolks can do that to ya, you know.... But if you liked it, this is something we should try to arrage alittle more often", Margaret said.
Christina nodded: "Definitely! Actually, Mag, if we can find another weekend where we're both free from work,I demand that we do something like this again. I don't think I have had such a good time atleast since our graduation party".
"Even though that didn't end too well for you, did it?" Margaret said, and gave Christina an awkward stare.
It was true. On the last party they had had together in their student flat, after their graduation, and before everyone moved eack to their own, Christina had inconveniently ended up overindulging alittle bit on the liquor. Very drunk, almost legless, Christina had been sitting on the couch on the living room of their crowded little student apartment when she had felt the very familiar urge to take yet another wizz. She had just been for one, and it had been quite the struggle just to get there, not to mention getting all her clothes off in time, and then putting her clothes back on again in her state of drunkness. It was a hassle! So since she had just been, she assumed the urge she felt now was just a few stubborn dribbles that hadn't come out earlier, and her drunken blurred mind had somehow gotten to the conclusion that these few dribbles could very well just be let out into the gusset of her pink thong. She even pushed alittle as she let go, a faint fart had been masked by the loud music, as a wet spot grew on her crotch and inner thighs and seeped into the fabric couch beneath her. It was alot more than she had anticipated, but too drunk to even realise that her plan hadn't worked, she just continued like nothing had happened with a dinner plate-sized patch on her her jeans, until she had passed out (luckily) on her own bed later in the night. Fully clothed. This was what Margaret were refering to. But what made Christina secretly cringe even more, was a part that Margaret didn't even know about. The morning after Christina had awoken laying flat on her stomach. Bedsheets cold, damp and smelling of piss from her boobs to her ancles. Resting on her still jeans clad firm ass, and slightly smeared down her thighs and up her crack, were a rather large mass of freshly passed, still luke warm, soft, runny, hungover morning poop. She rubbed some sleep out of her eyes, then exhaled with a heavy sigh, and she just let her morning piss trickle out of her at a natural pace, rewetting and rewarming her clothes as well as her bed, until it tickled the skin below her belly button.... Everything was washed twice, but the cute pink thong had had to be trashed anyway.
"No", Christina blushed, remembering all of that. "But you remember what Todd used to say! It's not a good party unless atleast a couple of people has either puked, pissed or shit on themselves". And both girls erupted in laughter.
"That is definitely true in our circles", Margaret joked.
"And you fit right in as well", Christina joked back.
Their conversation turned in a different, mundane direction. Mainly boring gossip, or discussing different clothes and makeup articles, wich was irrelevant for the sake of this story. Alittle later Margaret suggested that they turn on a movie on the TV, and they did so.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I think it's time for me to start heading down to the station now, my train is leaving in half an hour", Christina said as she stretched out her arms and yawned.
"Yep, I'll follow you down there", Margaret replied, "Just a sec", she said while looking around for the remote control to turn off the TV. "Alittle fresh air could be good, I almost fell asleep during the end of the movie there".
"I'll just nip to the loo first".
Christina disappeared into the bathroom. She turned on the tap before she sat on the toilet. Not because she was shy or anything, but alittle bit of extra privacy didn't hurt either. She pulled down her thights, spun around and sat down on the toilet. A weak and yellow stream made a clear trikling sound when it hit the water in the bowl. It lasted only a few seconds before it gradually died down, and everything became quiet again, except for the running tap. She just continued to sit there motionless, thinking about nothing and trying to concentrate. "Mmhmmm.................. Aaah". Christina had always as long as she could remember not only had a a small bladder, but also a very active bowels, wich meant she usually had to take a dump three times every day. For some reason she had been abit backed up this weekend, and she hadn't pooped since yesterday morning. The last time she had skipped this many poops it had ended in disaster. Maybe 8 months earlier, but she still remembered how that huge warm log had just flipped aside her thong and pushed down the leg of her tight blue jeans as she rode the elevator up to her apartment. She didn't want to risk that happening on her train ride home, so she bore down. "Hhhmmm". A squeeky fart came out, and a few droplets of pee. "Aaah". But nothing seemed to budge inside her stomack. One last try. "Mmmhhgrmm..................Grrrgh....... Aaaah! Fuck it". She sat there and panted for a while, before she wiggled her butt over the seat to drip drip dry, then pulled her clothes back on without wiping, and walked over to wash her hands.
Back in the hallway Margaret had put on her jacket and was ready to leave. Christina also put on her jacket, fetched her backpack, swung it over her shoulders and fastened the chest strap. The two girls stepped out into the nice but chilly weather, and they started walking down the sidewalk towards the train station, and as they walked they were talking about this and that, loose and solid, and nothing in particular. The sound of feet walking on gravel, then asphalt, the breezing sound of leafs rustling in the wind, and distant bird song could be heard whenever there was a pause in the chatting. They didn't walk particularily fast, but the distance was short, so they made it to the station with several minutes to spare. Not wanting to be disturbed by the other passangers waiting, Christina and Margaret stopped maybe 20 meters from the platform.
As soon as they stopped walking Margaret let rip an enourmeous fart. "God, I think I'm going to have the worst hungover shit when I get back, walking has just stimulated my bowels". Two smaller farts could also faintly be hear. "It feels like it's going to be a messy one!"
"I know the feeling", Christina replied. "Alcohol sometimes does that, but I'm having the opposite problem, I'm backed up since yesterday!"
"I don't get what you eat girl, to shit so much", Margaret said teasingly.
"Didn't you already know that I was full of shit?", Christina coutered with a smirk on her face. Both girls giggled for a bit. "So... How long's it been since you've last been then?"
"I haven't gone since Friday, when ya know, I didn't quite make it", Margaret said before let out a barely audible and airy fart. "God, that was a warm one."
"I bet it was, sure smells like it". Christina waved her face to proove her point, and kind of mock her friend. "Well, I hope you make it. That is always the most devastating feeling ever. Having an accident two times in a row."
"Yeah", Margaret agreed, "I guess. But actually, I have shit myself so many times before, but I don't think I have ever shit myself two times in a row, honestly". A short pause. "Wait.... Have you?" Margaret looked over at Christina. "You have, haven't you?"
Christina just shrugged her shoulders, "So... eh...", she pretended like she was about to change the subject, but then just gave in anyway. She had no embarrassment around a good friend like Margaret. "Yes, not often, but it has totally happened a couple of times. Always drunk though. Like I'll been hammered, and then shit myself at a party. Then I wake up the next morning, having shit myself again in bed". There was no time for a reaction on the confession that had just been made though, because as they were speaking, they could hear the locomotive dundering down the tracks.
"Well, here's my train. Thank you for a wonderful weekend, and we'll stay in contact!" Christina said, as the train pulled into the station and came to a halt at the platform.
"Likewise, I had a great time, and we must see again soon."
The two girls hugged quickly, before Christina speed-walked the last few meters ahead to the platform, and borded the train. Margaret remained on the spot for a few moments. She let out a couple of silent farts while debating whether should use a public toilet, or just go home. She didn't deem it that urgent, so she chose the second option, and started on her walk home.
The 2 hour train ride back to the city went rather uneventful. Christina had gotten up to use the toilet on the train twice during the ride, but only for two small pees. An effect of being constipated, it felt like her full intestines were pressing on her already peanut sized bladder, making her have to go even more often than normal. The other need she hadn't even felt an urge for during most of the ride, but about a quarter before they were due to arrive, there was some movement, and she started to sense a slight pressure in the rectum. By the time the train stopped by the platform, she also felt that she could probably need another piss sometime soon, but tired from the journey it was put to the back of her head.
Out on the platfom Christina concidered using the train station's bathroom, but she knew from experience that these toilets were usually very filthy, and she was pretty confident that she could hold it for the rather short distance home, so Christina walked straight pass the train station toilets and out into the cold but sunny autumn weather. She found the closest bus stop, she was lucky the line that went through the train station also stopped right infront of her apartment building. At the bus stop Christina fished her phone up from her pocket, to check when the next bus on this line was due. It was Sunday, which meant the buses run alittle less frequent than on weekdays, and she was abit worried when she saw that it would be a 15 minute wait. She felt a twinge in her bladder, and subconciously crossed her legs. Would she have time to run back to the train station, do her business and then come back before the bus arrived? Probably not. Atleast not to poop, but maybe if she pissed alittle she would be able to hold her poop until she got home. She really didn't like the idea of the train station toilets though, so in lack of a better option she tried to hold on for a while longer.
There was a cold chill in the air this Sunday afternoon, and very few people were out and about, so there was little traffic to speak of. Christina was still waiting for the bus when she felt the next wave of urgency come over her. She pressed two fingers into her pussy and crossed her legs. Looking around herself, she saw almost no one. The traffic was low, a few scattered pedestrians at the other side of the road, and behind the bus stop it was just an open patch with pretty tall grass and some small bushes. Christina uncrossed her legs. While still holding her pussy tight, she relaxed her asshole for abit. "Ffffff!". Hot air gushed out and warmed up the space between her cheeks before it slowly seeped through the fabric. That eased the peassure alittle bit, but she knew it was only a question of time. Having to hold it both ways was only going to make it impossible for her to hold her poop until she came home. She had to do something! Without hesitation Christina walked over to the open area with tall grass right beside the bus stop. She squatted down, almost sitting on her heels, pretending to just relax while reading her phone. With a backpack on her back and the phone in one hand, she used her free hand to inch her running tights just below her buttocks, that was just enough to make her pussy come free of the top of her pants. Her now bare bumcheeks tickled by straws of grass, she let go a trickling stream of piss into the ground below. It was a rather short pee. Towards the end her bumhole started to open up, but she quickly clenched it shut, stopping anything before it had a chance to come out. In one motion she stood up and pulled up her pants, right in time to see the bus coming down the street.
Having had her pee probably helped, because the bus ride home was rather uneventful, except two silent but stinky farts towards the end, which she hoped and thought no one could pinpoint to her. Other than that, she had little problem holding it while sitting down, the problem arose when walking the short disctance from the bus stop to her apartment building. Quite naturally, walking always seemed to stimulate her bowels. Also, there was no bus seat or train seat aiding her tired muscles in holding back the large mass inside her, everything was down to her exhausted muscles now. Christina reached the front door of her building right as her ring started to give in. This wasn't a new experience for Christina. She had loaded her underwear when trying to make it home after work on multiple occasions. Twice it had happened when she returned from shopping. The difference this time was only that she hadn't been for a while, so it was going to be a particularily huge one. Her asshole started crowning as she locked herself into the entrance hall. The solid lump in her rectum were slowly sliding out as she walked over to the elevator. In the elevator Christina stood with her legs tightly crossed, and that helped her stop her turd from protruding any further. Most of it was still inside, but the emerging tip was already touching cloth in her underwear. That support disappeared again, when she reached her floor and she had to uncross her legs to walk over to her apartment. The shit slowly sliding out step by step. A substantial mushroom-head had formed in the back of her pants when Christina unlocked the door to her apartment. She swung inside, and the first log broke off. Her asshole didn't even attempt to close before a second load started. She took one step towards the bathroom before seeing that this was futile. Christina leaned on the wall and just gave up. Two, three, four logs finished snaking out and nestled up back there. A big sigh, followed by a curious hand reaching behind and feeling up the size of the bulge. This had to be one of the biggest dumps she had ever taken in her pants, but Christina laughed silently at herself when she had to add, atleast while sober.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, Margaret was walking back to her house after following Christina to the train station. About half way home she regretted not jumping on the bus instead of walking back. Her house was only 2 bus stops from the station, and she really could need the exercise, it was just that the walking seemed to have stimulated her bowels. The time had come for the poop she had felt brewing all day, and she actually had to clench her buttcheeks to hold back against the pressure in the rectum. She turned up the road where she lived and stopped dead in her tracks. "Pprrrtt... prrtt. rrffft". A few squeeky and foul smelling farts shot out despite her hole being clenched shut full force. After a few seconds the wave subdued, and the air that had escaped actually made the urge marginally better. With renewed confidence that this was going to end as just another close call, Margaret continued to walk the few hundred meters left, she even smiled and said hi to a neighbour that was out raking leafs in the garden. When she turned into her driveway, she felt safe. "Thank God", she said out loud as she stepped up on her front porch, "I made it".
There was only one problem. She had left it alittle too late. Again. As Margaret purged in through her front door, her tired muscles started to give in to the pressure. Two steps infront of the bathroom door the wettest of all farts hissed out through her clenched tired asshole, "fffffprtfff", and from the hotness to judge it was not only air that seeped through either. A few table spoons worth of warm runny mud had slipped out alot with the hot pungent gas, and gathered between Margaret's asshole and her light pink granny panties as her sneakers that she had no time to take off swung themself into the only room in her apartment wich had tiled floors. With that airpocket gone, it was now the main and slightly firmer chunk of Margaret's sloppy hungover poop that was resting against her ring. The muscles of her pelvic floor was too tired out and too exhausted to even anwer the brain's last desperate call for defence, just the smallest of a twinge in her intestines as she flipped the toilet lid up, and spun her butt around, was enough to push her asshole wide open. A really soft but still somewhat solid glob of hot reeking shit pressed through and sagged like a tennisball in the back of her light grey sweatpants. Margaret got a grab with her thumbs inside the waistband, she pulled her pants and panties down in one go, and sat her dirty bum down. The floodgates were relieved, a strong torrent of piss erupted into the bowl, and from the back chunkier bits and runnier spurts continued to spray and splash.
Margaret picked up her phone from a pocket in her sweater. While her body was still doing its business, she gently spread her legs as wide apart as her sweatpants allowed her to, and then she snapped a photo of the messy brown hammock that was now stretched out between her knees. This was a moment she had to share with the others in the group chat.
---------------------------------------------- THE END! ----- THANK YOU FOR READING! ---------------------------------------------------------- |
Hey folks. I wrote this yesterday, it's pure fiction but the foundation is built on a real conversation i had on Tinder some time ago. The actual conversation did not go this deep or this far but either way, it gave me inspiration. Enjoy!
My name is Lottie and a few months ago, I matched with a guy on Tinder, this is not unusual, I often match with guys on Tinder, after all, that is the entire point. However, this guy was slightly different. He seemed incredibly open, very honest, often so much as to come off as a little bit rude and disrespectful. We even arranged a date, which was scuppered by this damned lockdown, but nonetheless, we continued to chat. We had long since migrated from Tinder to I-Message and WhatsApp and our natural personalities just seemed to spark. He is very bright, bubbly, thoughtful, attentive, and intelligent, these are the qualities I look for in any date.
A few days back however, we were messaging when he suggested we video call. This, again, is not unusual, we often video call as we cannot physically see each other because of the current lockdown. It is always pleasant to talk with him, he always seems happy to see me and always gives me plenty of attention, I like that a lot. We engaged in small talk briefly; we talked about our day but not in any detail, we talked about the weather and finally, we raved about the difficulty of buying toilet roll. I do not actually like small talk, I find it impersonal and undeserving of any great purpose, but we are British and small talk is part of our national identity.
Tortuous small talk done with, we finally moved onto something more deserving of our time, sex. We had discussed sex on numerous occasions before, but I really had something I needed to tell him, it’s quite a big part of me and to keep it a secret would feel obtuse and a video call seemed a decent opportunity to bring it up.
“So how many guys have you been with?” he asked me very bluntly, I know for a lot of girls this isn’t a great question to answer, but for me it’s no issue, I feel no shame in not having been with too many guys. “Three” I answered plainly. His face expressed shock, which I called him out on. “Were you expecting more?” I goaded him playfully “gotta be honest, I was, just a little” we both laughed. “How about you?” I asked him just as bluntly. “You really want to know?” he responded. To be honest, I’m not sure I really did, but I ploughed ahead regardless “I do” I said playfully, “well, I stopped counting when I got to thirty” Okay, that did throw me off, I will admit. At this stage, I became worried about any potential relationship with this guy, could I really trust him? Nonetheless, I fronted it out with a fake smile and briskly moved the conversation onwards.
“So, what’s the strangest kink you’ve came across in the bedroom?” I asked him, slightly nervously. This was quite important to me; I am a kinky person and on top of that I have a standout fetish and I needed to know if he was at all open to new things. “I knew a girl once who was into feet and hair pulling” he responded nonchalantly. I was not surprised by that, I am given to understand quite a number of people have a foot fetish, nevertheless, I wanted to know more. “How’s that work?” I asked him, genuinely interested, I am always happy to learn. “Well, she liked to touch my feet, liked to look and them and on occasion, lick them too” more or less what I anticipated. “Were you happy to indulge her?” I inquired “sometimes when I was in the mood. I’m open to try just about anything once” this sounded perfect to me. I do not have a foot fetish, I am not remotely interested in feet, I mean, each to their own and all that but it is not for me. No, my thing is anything and everything to do with pee. I like peeing my pants, I like watching other people pee their pants, I like being desperate and seeing how long I can hold, I like watching other people who are desperate, I like being denied the bathroom, I like denying other people the bathroom and I’m keen on wearing diapers too. It is quite important to me, it would be great if I could find a guy who would indulge me in my fantasies, so I really wanted to be open and honest about it early on.
I did not want this part of the conversation to die there and then, I had to keep him on the subject, I felt like this was my golden opportunity. “So, are you into anything specific yourself?” I asked him inquisitively. “I might be” he answered jovially, good start I figured. “Do I not get to find out? That seems a little cruel” I used my big puppy dog eyes and pulled my pet lip and began acting all cute and girly, it usually works a treat to get my own way. “I’m happy to tell you” he started, but stopped in his tracks rather quickly “what is it?” I asked him tenderly, I worried he might have been hurt in the past by being too honest, just like I have. “I’m just… I’m just not sure you’re ready to hear it” he answered nervously. “What does that mean?” I was beginning to get a little concerned now. “well it’s just, you come across as quite vanilla and I mean that’s great, but, sometimes vanilla people find kinks and fetishes hard to accept or understand” hmm it seemed he had suffered similar experiences to myself then, which in its own way isn’t a bad thing but, how could he misjudge my kinky personality so badly though?
“I’ll let you into a little secret” I said playfully “I’m not vanilla, not at all” his face lit up and a big smile flew across his face, he seemed genuinely thrilled. “it’s just… you struck me as such a good girl” he said somewhat forcefully, I found it amusing though. “guess that depends on who I’m talking too” I spoke all cute and innocent but blew a kiss at the same time. “Now that you know I’m not one of the vanilla brigade, tell me your thing!” I spoke very plainly; I was a good girl after all. “There are a couple of things to be honest” he started and once again, stopped himself midsentence, just speak your mind already, I thought to myself. He required a bit of gentle persuasion but, before long he opened up, “well, I have thing for underwear, male and female” this caught me off guard a little bit. “How does that work exactly?” I asked politely, “I don’t really know to be honest, I think it is just because underwear is one of our most personal possessions and I’ve always believed that someone’s underwear choice can say a lot about the individual and their taste, so if I see someone I’m attracted to, I sometimes think to myself, I wonder what underwear they’re wearing” seemed a good explanation to me, I guess a lot of people can fall into that category. “So” I started “are you wondering what underwear I’m wearing now?” I asked playfully. “If I say yes, will you think any less of me?” he asked politely, he was trying to hide his insecurity on the subject, but I could see straight through his façade. “Absolutely not” I answered respectfully “I’ll even show you if you ask nicely” his face lit up again. “Thought you were a good girl?” he said wistfully, I replied saying “as I said, depends who I’m talking too” We spent a few minutes in this back and forth exchange, in the end I grew a little petulant and impatient and ended up dropping my black leggings to my ankles so he could see everything he wanted to see.
I was wearing these cute pink hipsters with a frilly waist and frills adorning the edges. They were printed with silver and gold stars and they were super comfy and practical, but they did a good job of accentuating my ass and showing off my curves, I always felt I looked good wearing them. I stood up and did a little spin, so he could see me from all angles, I may have dragged out the time showing him my ass, but, I like my ass, I think it is one of my better features. After performing my little show, I sat back down, still with my leggings around my ankles and asked him what my underwear said about me, he said “well, it says you’re a good girl who values comfort and practicality, but also someone who is confident in her appearance” pretty spot on, I thought. “you like what you see?” I asked him confidently, “most definitely” he said. “Now tell me, I’ve told you one of my things, now you have to return the favour” he announced. I had to take a minute to take a deep breath, I have always struggled getting my words out in situations like these and this occasion was no different, I really did not want to get tongue tied. “well” I started out cautiously “I enjoy pee” I took a moment to the let word hang in the air, I wanted to gauge his reaction. Overall, it seemed positive, I mean, he did not hang up or go running or anything. After a moment, he responded to my admission, “so, you enjoy getting peed on and that kinda thing?” he sounded vague on the subject, I do not think he was too familiar with the concept. “Kinda, I mean, I’m not so much into getting peed on or peeing on other people, I prefer like… holding my pee and watching other people do the same..” again, I let the words hang for a moment. “okay, so, what do you do when you hold your pee for too long? Do you rush to the toilet or…” great, now he was letting the words hang too? “It depends. I do enjoy wetting myself, if that’s what you’re getting at” I found myself stuttering slightly as the words came out of my mouth, it was very unconscious. “Really?” he asked incredulously. “yeah, is that a problem?” I asked somewhat nervously. “not at all, just wanted to be sure I heard you correctly” he said tenderly.
There was a slightly awkward silence for a few moments, I worried that I had in fact creeped him out, but he was just too polite to say anything about it. I began to feel seriously self-conscious, as if I had just made a bad misjudgement. These moments seemed to last for eternity, I just wanted to know his true thoughts, even if he thought it was weird, I just wanted to know his true feelings. “It is okay isn’t it?” I asked tenuously. “Of course, I’m just a little surprised” he spoke tenderly, and I believed his words, I guess it is quite tough for most people to understand. After another brief silence, he spoke out saying “so, do you do this stuff alone or with other people? Sorry for my ignorance, but I am totally unaware of how this all works” I felt uplifted, he seemed to be taking a genuine interest in something that is so important to me. “I mostly indulge alone, but I enjoy it when I’m denied the bathroom by others” I spoke assuredly. “So, if I said to you now, you’re not going to the bathroom without my permission, that would turn you on?” okay, he sounded playful again. I was beginning to like where this was going. “I really would” I matched his playful tone. “Well then, if you think you’re going to the bathroom at all for the duration of this call, you’ve got another thing coming” he suddenly sounded very masculine and dominant, I like this. A lot.
“Can I refill my glass?” I asked all cute and girly, I had been sipping on wine most of the evening and with the way our conversation had moved and with a gentle ache in my bladder, I figured this was a good opportunity to play our one of my fantasies. “You can” he answered simply, “hurry back though” with that, I dashed into the kitchen and began filling my wine glass, I was shaking slightly with the excitement of the moment and I spilled a little on the worktop, it’ll come off though, worry about that later.
Wine glass filled I re-joined him in my living room. He was sat eagerly awaiting my return, I was still prancing around with my leggings round my ankles, I felt adorable doing so and he was enjoying the view too, so it was all good. It was just a little daunting that all this was being done via a video call, it seemed okay, but just a little impersonal, I wanted him there with me.
“Got my drinkie” I called out happily. “Glad to hear it” he said in reply. “Have you got to pee?” he asked inquisitively. “Mmm a little, nothing too urgent yet. When I start bouncing around and look like I have ants in my pants, you’ll know I’m getting close” I said wistfully. He smiled and we began chatting about what even brought us to Tinder in the first place. I was out of a long-term thing, I had been with the same guy for near enough seven years and it was mostly good but, as time went on, our differences pushed us apart. It surprised me that his path to Tinder was similar in some ways to mine, particularly considering the amount of sexual partners he had conquered over the years. But I did not think about it too much, everyone has their own path to tread after all.
After thirty minutes or so of sipping wine and chatting about this and that, my bladder really was beginning to cry for attention. Sitting still was beginning to get tricky and each time I leaned forward to take a sip of wine, I felt an immense pressure on my bladder. I tried my best not to make my uncomfortableness too obvious, I enjoy the sensation of being seriously desperate whilst trying to look, on the outside at least, like an ocean of calmness or serenity. Okay, ocean was a bad word. Help. I drifted into a mini trance, I began to think of lakes of water and dripping taps. It really was not helping. My mind was focused on my need to pee and the signals my bladder was sending me.
“Are you okay? You seem like you’re on your own little planet” he called out, I thought he sounded cute. “Ummm well… I gotta pee. Pretty bad” I said in reply. “How bad is it exactly?” he asked politely. “Pretty bad. My bladder is bulging and I’m struggling to sit still, I feel like I’m about to leak, but I think its all in my head” I sounded more confident than I felt. I was really beginning to struggle. “Doesn’t look like it to me!” he called our forcefully. “Stand up” this was a direct order. I stood up as directed and felt a little tingle in a very private area. He took a moment to inspect me and my bulging bladder, he seemed impressed at just how much a bladder can protrude. “Ten squats” he barked as an order. I really did not think I could manage ten squats without pissing my pants, but I had been given an order and a good girl does not disobey an order.
I squatted down and up and down and up and down and leak. What?! Ohhh no. I had manged maybe five and I had leaked into my knickers. There was a small wet spot around the crotch of my knickers, and I had to stand up and brace, otherwise more would have escaped. “Why have you stopped?” he asked forcefully. “Umm nothing, just needed a rest” I lied. “I don’t believe you. You’ve wet your pants, haven’t you?” he asked incredulously. “NOOO I haven’t!” I protested cutely. “I promise” I was fooling nobody, I wasn’t trying too. “Show me your knickers” he called out. I turned around to show him my ass, which was still dry. I was hunched over onto my knees, with my ass sticking out. “No, the front” he called out nonchalantly. “Ummmm” that is all I could manage, he had me at all angles. I spun around as quick as I could and then spun back again, I had shown him the front right? Not my fault if he was too slow to have a good look. The quick spin had done me no favours, it had made me dizzy, made worse by the wine and another spurt escaped my defences. This one was bigger however and I felt a warm trickle spread towards my ass. I moved my hand to the bottom part of my ass and pressed, hard. Bear in mind, I still had my ass shoved into the camera.
“I saw that” he called out proudly. “Noooooo you saw nothing, iiiiit, it was just sweat. It’s warm in here” i was all cute again. “Don’t lie to me” he scolded me, in a playful way. “You’ve wet you knickers, haven’t you?” urghhh “Y…. yeah. Buuut only a little. Look!” I spun round to show him my crotch, but when I saw my own image in the camera, I realised that I had leaked a little bit more than I realised. The wet spot, was no longer an spot, it was a wet patch that covered the gusset of my underwear and had spread over the bottom half of my ass. I quickly closed my thighs to try and hide the evidence of my little accident, but he had seen all he had to. He playfully chided me over my inability to control my bladder, I was getting seriously horny. “You still owe me five squats” he reminded me forcefully. I obeyed my order without question. I squatted down and up and down an up and down and finally back up again. “Done it!” I called out proudly. “Good girl” he said calmly.
I sat back down on my sofa but the wetness between my thighs made me think I really needed a towel, I was no longer certain about my ability to control this situation and I wasn’t sure I could hold on much longer. “Can I get a towel please?” I asked. He thought in silence for a moment, before nodding in approval. “Thank you” I said and waddled off to fetch a towel.
Each step felt like I was treading a minefield, each time I raised my leg I wasn’t sure if I’d hold my pee until the next one. I was trying to walk with my thighs locked together, but even that was tricky. I must have looked funny, but I had left my laptop in the living room so he couldn’t see the ridiculous spectacle of me waddling up my stairs. Four steps up my stairs and I leaked again. The warmth poured out of my body and made my pussy and thighs moist again. I felt a small trickle of pee run down my leg, I tried my best to ignore it but when I saw the droplets soak into the carpet it reminded me of my folly. I was only a few short steps away from the top of my stairs and my target destination, I was so close I could almost reach out and touch the towel hanging on the top of the bannister. I reached out as far as I could and peed again. I was totally beginning to lose it. I didn’t even reach the towel.
I gave up. I began waddling back down the stairs. Somehow going down was easier than going up and I was soon back in the living room. “Where is the towel?” he asked. “Umm couldn’t reach it” I said honestly. “Are you telling me, you couldn’t even make it upstairs?” he asked playfully. I simply nodded. I showed him my underwear again and the wet patch was growing almost by the second. My ass wet beginning to really get wet, my crotch was soaked and the patch had began to travel up towards my waistband. “I cant hold it much longer!” I exclaimed. “I’m gunna wet myself soooon” he considered his response for a moment, “Ten more squats, then you can use the bathroom” he announced. I was delighted. Not about the squats, but because I could soon empty my tortured bladder. I was in full defence mode. My muscles were locked tight, my thighs were clamped together, I was shaking, I had one hand planted into my crotch and the other pressed against my ever wetter ass.
I began to squat. One. Two. Three. I was leaking with each one. Each time I squatted down and opened my legs, a spurt of pee rushed out of my body. There was an ever growing wet patch on my carpet, but I did not care, I could deal with that later. My bladder had betrayed me. I had lost the fight. I had done everything I could, but it simply was not enough. Four. Five. Six. My knickers were soaked and when I tried for seven, I lost it completely. I grabbed my laptop and ran to the bathroom. A stream of pee was flowing down my legs leaving a wet trail on my once pristine floor. Guess this is what happens when you’re a good girl with a weak bladder?
I sped into the bathroom as quickly as my pee soaked legs could carry me. He was silent all this time. He knew what was happening. I placed the laptop on the toilet so it faced me in the shower cubicle and relaxed. OHHHHHHHHHHH boy.
A huge torrent gushed forth. The content of my bladder thundered into the ceramic below my feet, making an audible thud. I felt the pee spread up my crotch and pour over my ass. I rubbed my pussy gently as I was peeing, at this point, I had forgotten there was someone there watching me wet myself. The warm pee rushing over my fingers felt amazing and I let out an audible moan. The relief I felt was insurmountable, it really was a tremendous amount of pee. I squatted down to finish of my accident and began to rub myself, more vigorously this time. I moaned as I felt my sodden knickers against my fingers. My eyes were closed and I was lost in a moment of bliss.
“Oh god!” I heard from the speaker of my laptop. I had totally forgotten I was being watched and I blushed as I recalled who was there. I looked over to see him performing an act upon himself. I continued to blush, but also revelled in the moment. I was intoxicated by all the emotions running around my body and the puddle, which I was now sat in, was a constant reminded of what had occurred. Looking directly into the camera, I rubbed my pussy and brought myself to the grand finale.
Not sure who enjoyed it more me or him? I think I did, but who’s to say? |
In my youth I had a friend, his name was Milenko.
He was thin, but muscular, he was smooth and cute like a girl.
He had long hair, a pretty face. He was younger than me and i did really like him.
We went out together, first with some girls, but after awhile we realized, that we wanted more than just a friendship and that we did feel that we were attracted by each other.
We did not take about it, but we wanted to spend more and more time together. We started to look for opportunities to spend nights together.
We did not have real sex, but we did love to sleep together, totally naked in one bed and we did like the feeling if our bodies were pressed together.
I loved it, if one of his slim thighs was between my thighs and I loved it when he pressed his belly against my belly, especially when i did know that there is a overfilled bladder in his abdomen.
I loved his thin body!
I loved it, if his bladder was bulging out from his thin, usually flat stomach.
Since we meet, i noticed that he did never go to the toilet, not even if we did spend a long time together.
I did not know why, but i thought there could have been more reasons for that.
1. He did love holding, he did love the feeling of a full bladder.
2. He wanted to show me his ability to hold it for so long.
Later, i made him wait and i made him hold, whenever i had a chance to do it and I think, that he did know that.
3. He did hold it for me, because he did know that i like it and that i makes me horny.
4. He was a masochist, he wanted to be made to hold, he wanted not being allowed to go and he wanted to get his bladder tortured.
I did not know the reason.
I had many experiences with him where he did hold a bursting bladder in his slim belly for a long time.
Once we made a weekend trip.
After the first night, of our trip, we were together in the bathroom. We made our morning toilet and went for the breakfast.
Milenko did not pee in the morning and he did not pee, before we were leaving.
We had lunch at 12 and went to the car.
We had both a large beer. No one of us went to the loo.
Milenko had not peed since after dinner, at about 9 pm.
At about 2 pm he told me that he would need to pee pretty bad.
Maybe the pee from all the night and from today and then this large beer was to much for his bladder?!!
He was not begging for to stop anywhere, he just told me that he was needing to go.
I loved it, he was sitting beside me, just with a shirt and a short short. His slim, smooth legs were nude and i did know that he was needing to pee, i did know that he did not piss since 17 hours.
I was needing to pee too, i did not go since this morning.
I had to hold it, because i did not wanted to give him a chance to go and i did like it to be full and to hold a full bladder.
Needing to pee and to imagine how bad he must have to go, after holding it for so long, was total arousing for me
My left hand was on the steering wheel and my right hand was on his left, slim thigh.
I pushed the legs of his short shorts more up at his thighs, to see more of it.
Sometimes I could see it and i could feel it with my hand, how he tensed his muscles to hold it in.
I think that he was needing to pee really bad and that the pressure in his bladder must have been high.
Milenkos bladder could never be full enough for me. His bladder should get bigger, it should stretch more, but no relief for the skinny boys bladder!!
One hour later, he remained me at a experience that we had with 2 girls, sometimes ago.
We made a day trip with 2 girls. On the way home, at the evening, there was a accident on the motorway.
The girl’s were needing to wee, but nowhere to go.
We was standing for hours. Some men and some boys did get out of their cars, to take a much needed piss beside the car.
Girls could not do that, they had to hold it.
Our 2 girls were getting more and more desperate, especially on of them, it was “my “ girl or better the girl beside me.
She had both of her hands between her thighs and pressed hard on her girl slit, that was needing to wee so bad.
She had tears in her eyes from her painful urge, but nowhere to go for her, she had to hold it!
Everyone has a limit and this girl was over her limit .
“I can’t hold it any longer , i HAVE to piss now, I do it in my panties „ she said and opened the door.
Before she could get her panties down, before she could squat, she started to piss full force.
Amazing how much this girl was pissing, her bladder must have been big as a melon.
She did not wee all day long, the same as the second girl, she did not have a pee.
The second girl did get extreme desperate too, her girl friend was now empty, but she was full to burst! She was able to hold it until we did get to a parking lot, one hour later.
It was a really exciting day trip!
I think that Milenko did like it too, to be with two bursting girls in a car for hours.
He told me that he would be nearly in the same situation by now, as this girl at our trip.
He did not ask for a stop.
One hour later he told me that he would piss in his pants, if we don’t arrive soon.
It was not a question to stop for him to take a much needed pee, no one of us did talk about this opportunity.
It seemed like it was no other way for him than to wait until we arrived, it was like if he was not allowed to piss before we were here.
We were on a country road and it would not have been a problem to stop, nobody was around.
Was it like a game, or was he to shy or to proud to do that.
Weeks later, I did know that he was devot and that he was waiting until i did let him go, i did know that he was maso, so that he did like it made to be hold.
His bladder had to endure a lot of torture, for him and for me!
He was rubbing his bony knees together, he squeezed his nude thighs with both hands very hard.
The poor boy was needing to pee so bad and i loved it.
I pushed his shirt up to see his swollen belly and his belly was swollen, really swollen!
I pressed with my hand on his bladder, to make him moan and he moaned, from this extra torture.
As we arrived at our hotel, we had to wait at the reception.
He was standing light bend forward and his slim, nude legs, was tight crossed.
So arousing for me, to see him like this.
He looked around and i did know very well, what for he was looking.
He did see the restroom at the other side of entrance hall and wanted to go there.
I did know where he wanted to go, but i wanted to tease him and asked “where are you going?”
”There where i am needing to go since i did wake up this morning!” he answered consequent.
” No you will not go now, you will wait here until we are ready here and then you can go in our room!
I think you will be able to hold it for so long!” I said, also consequently.
He did obey and was waiting.
At our room, i went in the bathroom before he could get in, not to take a much needed piss, no i wanted to hold my full bladder, because I love to hold my own bladder, since i can remember.
I wanted that he could not get in, he should be forced to hold it longer, no piss for Milenko!
As i came out, he was lying on our bed, he did only wear his little undies.
He was lying on his side, his knees was up at his chin, I think he wanted to give his bladder more room.
He wanted to get up, he wanted and needed to go to the loo, but i did not let him.
I laid myself to him and started to wrestle soft with him.
His bladder was swollen and hard. He did not pee for more than 20 hours, he was needing it so bad, but i did not let him.
I did love to torture the overfilled bladder of this thin boy, to press on it, to push it, to massage it!
I did love to lie on him with all my weight, bladder on bladder. I did like to feel how hard our cocks pressed between our bellies on our overfilled bladders.
He was shaking from needing to pee so bad, we could not get enough from it.
We did it as long as we both cumed between our bellies.
Then i did let him pee.
He pissed his swollen belly away, he pissed as long until his abdomen was total flat, so long until his belly did curve inside, between his pregnant hip bones.
I loved his thin body this way too!
It was unbelievable how much pee this boy could hold, how big he could make his bladder.
This was my first desperation time with him.
After that we had many experiences like this.
To hold it for 24 hours, was not really a big problem for him, he did it many times, but one or two hours longer did make him frantic.
27 hours was his absolutely limit.
I hope you like my story!?
Edited April 18, 2020 by huberp76
(see edit history) |
(This is my first story, let me know what you think about it!)
Slowly stirring awake, Lena reached her arm over towards her nightstand, picking up her phone. She rubbed her eyes as she glanced at the time that was on her phone screen. The large numbers read: "11:32." Taking the cue that it was now time to get up, Lena slid out of her bed, still a bit groggy. She shuffled her feet to the nearby bathroom, and glanced at herself in the mirror. Upon first glance, she noticed how messy her normally straight blonde hair was. She sighed softly, knowing that she would have to clean herself up after her long sleep,
After checking her appearance in the mirror, Lena made her way to the toilet, where she relieved herself, letting her bladder's contents pour out into the toilet. She made her way out of the toilet, she walked back to the mirror, a slight grin appearing on her face. "And that'll be the last time I do that for a while..." She thought to herself as she started to get ready for that day's activities.
Lena hopped into the shower, washing her body and hair down, before exiting a few minutes later. She soon changed into her outfit that she had preplanned out the day before. She put a pair of blue skinny jeans on, with a light t-shirt to compliment it. She also grabbed a light jacket, to complete her outfit. With her clothing all set, Lena reached underneath her bed and pulled out a small shopping bag. She reached into the bag and pulled out a small chain and a padlock.
Looping the chain through the belt loops of her jeans, Lena soon secured the chain with a padlock, placed in front of her. She tugged at her jeans a few times, ensuring that she would not be able to remove them without removing the padlock. "Just like the video...I won't be able to unlock my jeans until I return home...but by then I should have a nice and full bladder." She grinned to herself, taking a few brief seconds to admire her handiwork. She adjusted her shirt so that it would cover the top of her jeans, before putting on the light jacket. Lena reached into the bag and pulled out the key to the padlock, placing it on her nightstand, when she was to return back to her place.
Grabbing her purse and student ID, Lena was about to leave when she realized she forgot one thing. She made her way back into the small kitchen, grabbing a water bottle for the trip. She opened the cap and took a few sips before leaving her small off campus house. By this time, most students were out and about, and she hardly saw anyone on the walk down to the bus stop. She took a seat, sipping from her water bottle occasionally as she waited for the city bus to arrive.
She pulled out her phone and glanced at the time, knowing that it was important that she arrive at her destination at a certain time. "Good...it's just past noon...I have an hour or so before the movie starts..." She thought to herself as the sound of an engine soon grabbed Lena's attention. The bus slowly pulled up to the stop and she slowly got on, flashing her student ID to the driver who nodded his head. She took a seat at the middle of the bus, as it departed from the stop.
As it drove, Lena glanced out the window, watching the facade of the university buildings disappear, only to be replaced with an endless stream of suburban housing. As she watched, Lena constantly sipped from her water bottle, before finishing it halfway into the ride. The bus continued to drive around the city, making occasional stops, before arriving at a massive shopping mall on the outskirts of the town. Upon stopping, Lena soon exited the bus, disposing of her water bottle in a nearby recycling bin. She smiled to herself briefly, checking her phone for the time yet again. "I have about 30 minutes until the movie starts...I should have enough time..." She pondered to herself, before entering into the expansive building.
Lena hastily walked to the central part of the mall where the food court was. It was a big central area, with a variety of different restaurants that dotted the perimeter. On this particular day, Lena was more interested in the small coffee stand that sat in the middle, and was usually quite popular. However, today seemed to be a bit more of a slow day, and there was no line at all. In the span of a few minutes, Lena found herself holding a medium sized cup of coffee which she promptly began to sip on as she strolled through the mall.
After a brief walk through the massive complex, Lena soon found herself staring at the entrance to the movie theater, that was one of the main attractions for the mall. She started to enter before a worker called out to her. "Ma'am...we don't allow any outside beverages in..." He announced in a stern tone. Glancing down, Lena realized that she still had her cup of coffee in, and still had around a quarter of it left. "I can't let any of this go to waste..." She smirked to herself before quickly downing the rest of the beverage, before entering into the theater.
Lena reached into the purse and pulled out her movie ticket that she printed the night before. She gave it to the usher who promptly let her in. Before heading off to the particular theater, she decided to purchase yet another drink. By this time, Lena could already feel a slight ping in her bladder, as the water from earlier started to trickle its way into her bladder. Even if she wanted to, there was no way she would be able to relieve herself, but Lena had absolutely no desire to relieve herself with such an empty bladder. Having to hold in public was much more exciting than doing so alone, and she was not about to make her hold any easier.
Walking up to the concession stand, Lena ordered a medium sized soda and a bag of popcorn as well. Knowing how large the sizes were, she wanted to ensure that she would be able to finish the drink, but not have to rush and get sick. Within a minute or two, Lena had her drink and snack and she made her way to the theater. Having bought a seat at the back of the theater, Lena had very few people to deal with. Furthermore, the movie had already been out for a few weeks, and the theater itself was fairly empty. However, it wasn't the movie that she was particularly interested in, it was simply a psychological horror movie that got fairly mediocre reviews, but Lena was more interested in the concept of being surprised, and she wanted to see how she would react.
After the previews, the movie began, and Lena was entirely focused in on the screen, hardly noticing how much she drank from her soda. Within the span of an hour, Lena had consumed almost a liter of fluid, which was now filling up her bladder. The movie continued to progress, with much of the expositional dialogue from the movie's characters continuing on and on. It seemed quite boring up until a particular point, and Lena jumped up in her seat for the first time, genuinely caught off guard by the sudden jump scare. It was at this moment when Lena realized how full her bladder was.
Each time Lena shifted around, it felt like there were weights attached to her bladder, she could feel the immense pressure that was building up within her. She pressed her hands up against her jeans, feeling her bladder bulge out, only to be restrained by the waistline of her jeans. She crossed her legs, trying to remain comfortable, but it was clear to Lena that her bladder was screaming for relief, yet she did not intend to provide any. Despite the immense pressure, Lena was loving every minute of her hold. She had a feeling of exhilaration that she never felt before, having to hold her bladder or wet herself in public, without any opportunity for relief.
Lena subtly lifted her shirt, rubbing her hand across her lower abdomen, where her bladder was located. All that she could feel was a rock hard bulge, and she quickly soothed it by rubbing it discreetly, which was quite easy in the darkness of the theater. She continued to attempt to ease her full bladder with her hand as she watched the film.
The movie continued its reliance on jump scares, and Lena shifted around uncomfortably, trying not to wet herself. With each scare, she felt immense pressure rush through her bladder as she jumped in her seat. Her bladder was aching and pounding, desperately begging for it to be released, without regard to where it was done. At this point Lena was unsure whether or not she would be able to make it home without an accident, but luckily enough the movie ended and the lights of the theater flickered on.
As soon as she stood up, a tugging sensation rippled through Lena's body, as the sudden movement nearly caused her to leak out. "That was close..." She muttered softly to herself as she glanced down at her pants. Her lower abdomen was bulging out fairly noticeably now, causing her to cover up with her jacket. It didn't help that the waistline of the jeans was pressed directly against her expanding bulge. It took a few moments for her to collect herself, but Lena managed to bring her aching bladder under control as she soon departed the theater, taking small steps as she did so.
Lena gingerly made her way through the mall, doing her best to appear inconspicuous, her jacket covering up the bulge underneath her shirt. With each step, the pressure of her bladder increased, begging and screaming for release. She passed by several bathrooms on the way out, and the idea of being able to release made Lena almost wet herself, forcing herself to duck down and jam her hands against the front of her jeans. She took several deep breaths to recollect herself, before adjusting her jacket and exiting the mall.
Once she was out, Lena was greeted by a rush of cool air, which caused her bladder to twinge even more. She sat down at the bus stop, crossing her legs and tapping her foot somewhat nervously. She tried her best to appear nonchalant, but it was clear to the average person that she was having a problem. An older woman noticed Lena appearing anxious and turned towards her.
"Is there something wrong?" The older woman asked, turning towards Lena with a curious gaze.
"Just a little eager to return home, that's all." Lena responded in a friendly tone, even though she had bigger problems to worry about.
"If you need to use the bathroom, they're in the mall, there will always be another bus." The woman suggested, motioning back towards the entryway of the building.
"No, I'm fine, thank you very much though." Lena lied, before turning her attention towards the arriving bus. It soon pulled up to the bus stop and the waiting passengers entered in.
Lena took a seat at the back of the bus, and attempted to pass the time by glancing out the windows as the bus drove along. However, unlike before, it felt that the bus was moving in amber. Every stop seemed to take an eternity, and she could feel every pothole, speed bump, and sharp turn that the bus made. With each little bump, the bus jostled around, and Lena had no choice but to soothe her aching bladder, hoping that she wouldn't wet herself on the bus. She took deep breaths, trying to compose herself as best as possible, but she could tell that her bladder muscles were beginning to weaken after over an hour of holding a full bladder.
Right when she was sure she was going to wet herself, Lena saw the familiar facade of the university roll around. The bus stopped and she quickly departed, quickly walking down the street at a rapid pace. She reached into her purse, and pulled out her house key, ready to unlock the door when she arrived at her house. Lena quickly turned off of the sidewalk, cutting across the grass and towards the front door. She quickly turned the key and entered in, locking the door behind her.
As soon as Lena entered into her house, she breathed an immense sigh of relief. She had managed to make it back to her home without having an accident, and had an exhilarating time holding her full bladder. "I want to keep on holding even more...it's such a shame that I'll have to go pee now..." She remarked to herself, knowing that her bladder muscles were quite fatigued now and would likely give in any second. She gingerly made her way up to the bedroom and found the padlock key right where she placed it, on her nightstand. Lena picked up her shirt and unlocked the padlock, yanking the chain off of her jeans.
Lena made her way to the bathroom where she unzipped her jeans and sat down on the toilet. She rubbed her large bulge one last time before her bladder fully released itself, a torrential stream into the toilet, with the sound of her pee hitting the water filling up the room. Lena breathed an immense sigh as she emptied her aching bladder, allowing it the relief that it craved for hours. She was on the toilet for nearly two minutes, before her bladder was fully empty. She cleaned herself up and departed the toilet, heading to the mirror. She grinned eagerly, having experienced the most exciting day in a long time...
Edited April 18, 2020 by essentialred
(see edit history) |
BATHROOOOM!!!
That's all Kate could think about at the moment. Whatever her professor was talkin about was irrelevant to her. All she wanted was to relieve herself of this ever so growing need she was feeling down below. She tried everything to keep herself composed, but her fidgeting was starting to get to an uncontrollable level. She only had to wait a few more minutes and she would be free to find herself a nice clean porcelain throne.
Once the minute was over Kate was out of that room before most people had even packed up their belongings. With that being done Kate had to figure out where to go from here. She could go over to the bathrooms down the hall, but they would surely be full of other girls. Perhaps maybe down by the cafeteria? If it was any other time then she could, but people would definitely be down there enjoying some lunch, and people being in the cafeteria meant people being in the bathrooms.
This isn't the first time she's been in a situation like this. Social anxiety can make it very hard for her to find time to use these services for herself, so she was more than prepared to have to endure this nagging feeling for a little while longer if it meant she could have an empty bathroom all to herself. After pondering for a little while longer she finally had it all figured out.
"I can go down to the Auditorium! No one's down there at this time"
With her deciscion made she began the long, and tedious walk to the auditorium. She could've also gone back to her dorm to use that bathroom, however those were located much further away, and she had very little hopes of making it there before the auditorium. Walking to the auditorium meant she'd have to go down a few flights of stairs, walk outside past the fountain in the front, and eventually she would reach her destination.
Going down the stairs isn't normally a difficult thing for her to do, but the situation was dire. With each step she took her body begged to release itself of its burden. After many careful steps, and a few momentary breaks to gain composure she had cleared the first hurdle.
Now was the next challenge, walking past the fountain. The fountain in the middle of campus is a beautiful creation, designed and built by the finest designers on their side of the country. Kate couldn't help but give the fountain a glance as she walked past it. As she glanced over to the fountain the sight of the water was a bit too much for her body, and her muscles weakened just enough for a little bit to leak out and leave her underwear damp enough to really feel it. She gritted her teeth a little bit and seized up everything in her to get the leak to stop. Once she was back in control she hurried her pace to the auditorium. She couldn't hold on much longer.
And finally, with everything else behind her, she arrived at her destination. After checking to make sure everyone was gone she made a mad dash for the girls room. With one hand pressed firmly into her nether regions she opened up the door to the bathroom. No one was inside.
"Thank God!"
Kate hurried over to a stall and closed the stall behind her. Unbuttoned her jeans and sat down. Just as she was about to finally be over with this her third, and most difficult task, walked into the bathroom.
Nooo!
Who was still here? Why were they still here? These questions raced through her mind as she tightened up her grip on her muscles. Looking down onto the floor she recognized the shoes the other girl was wearing. A pair of black low top Converse shoes? These shoes belonged to Tiffany, the leader of the Drama team. She must've stayed behind to put up some equipment.
Kate was panicking at this point. Here she was half naked about to pee, and someone has walked in on her and forced her to wait until they leave. As Kate watched Tiffany walk out of sight all she had to rely on was her hearing. She heard Tiffany open up a stall and undo what sounded like a belt
PLEASE DONT!
Without any hesitation Tiffany began to let her own floodgates open. What started out as a small trickle turned into a loud and steady hiss. Hearing this was too much for Kate. She covered up her ears and tried everything in her power to hold on. Even with her hands over her ears she could still hear everything. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably as she was forced to listen. After what seemed like an eternity Tiffany was finally done, and flushed. Kate was thanking her lucky stars she had made it past this point.
What Kate didn't account for was Tiffany washing her hands. As Tiffany washed up Kate was starting to feel weak. She felt her muscles let a little more out and felt a small whimper exit her mouth. She covered up her mouth to stop anymore of those from exiting her. Tiffany finished washing her hands and dried them off with some paper towels. As Tiffany was getting ready to exit a loud whimper bled through Kates hand and found its way into Tiffany's ears. Tiffany turned around and walked up to the locked stall door and knocked.
"Hey, you okay in there?"
Kate was freaking out now. Tears were starting to form in her eyes. Kate hastily removed her hand from her mouth and replied back
"I-I'm fine. T-Thank you..."
"Are you sure? You sound like you're really upset"
While listening to this Kate's body let out a loud spurt. The sound echoed throughout the bathroom.
"Um. What exactly are you doing in there?"
"NOTHING!!!"
"Well it has to be something. I heard that"
A bit of an awkward silence ensued, then Tiffany spoke up again
"Y'know if ya gotta go, then just go. We're both girls. You don't gotta wait for me to leave"
"Wh-wh-what?"
"What're ya stuttering for? It's just pee. Go ahead, pee"
"Y-y-you don't u-underst-tand"
"Don't understand what? That you're acting like a big baby right now? Just pee already haha"
"P-please leave me a-alone"
"I aint going anywhere until you pee, ya child"
Kate was full blow crying to herself now. She knew that Tiffany could be mean, but she didn't think she'd be THIS mean. Kate kept begging her to leave
"Please l-leave me alone, i'm b-b-begging you!"
"Hurry up and finish your business then ya baby, or do you need to be put back in diapers? Because you sure act like you need to"
After much begging Kate ran out of words to say. Her body was burning hot, tired, and just wanted peace. She had no other choice. After many attempts to keep this as quiet as possible she decided enough was enough.
The instant her body let her muscles go her pee flew out of her like water from a fire hose. The relief was beyond what she had expected it to be. Kate covered her mouth with her second hand and began breathing heavily into them. Her entire body was shaking as she pushed all of it out of her. Kate felt like she was floating around in ecstacy, and there was no stopping her now. Once she finished up her hands dropped to her sides and she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.
"See? Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Kate didn't say anything back. She was in her own little world.
"Hey, sorry if I sounded kinda mean. I get how ya feel, I was super scared of going to the bathroom with others around too, but it's a childish fear in my opinion, and it really bugs me when I see other girls who are affected by it. I hope I didn't upset ya too much. See ya around sometime"
And with that Tiffany left the bathroom. Kate sat there for a good few minutes to catch her breath. Once she was ready she finished her business and started her walk back to the cafeteria. She deserved something good to eat after all that.
Edited April 18, 2020 by Citrus
Corrected a typo
(see edit history) |
Brief introduction:
In the past few weeks the Avengers have found out that nefarious supervillain known as Dr Doom has been work with another villain known as Kang the conqueror. This found out by Avengers leader Captain America just recently were he found out by Mr Fantastic heard that Doom operates in a nearby Hydra underground lair, Mr Fantastic and Cap teamed up to infiltrate the base but no sign of him, Cap’s companion believes Doom is operating in his castle in Latveria. Steve Rogers generated a team to infiltrate Doom’s castle and to find out what the deal with him and Kang is.
The special team consists of Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, Wasp and as leader of the group Captain Marvel. The heroes have just recently boarded onto the Quinjet to start their mission, you’ll think that this team would be so powerful because it’s made up of the most powerful female Avengers, but these girls’ stories will be different to what you might think what happens.
All of these girls were very pretty and were just like your average girl, tall and has a charming personality. One of them was very different and that was Scarlet Witch who’s alter ego is Wanda Maximoff, the fierce girl who the Avengers saved in the Battle Of Sokovia. She is still tormented by the fact her brother died which causes her to have very dark nightmares, most of the time she wakes up to find out that she pissed the bed. Another thing is that all the other members besides Wanda all have peeing fetish and today was the day Wanda become like her teammates.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Story:
High above the skies of New York our team of strong and power female Avengers were ready for the adventure they will have, but they sort of didn’t really get on to good. Wanda was the more quiet one whereas Carol was the more talkative one, Natasha was the deadly one and Hope was the funny one. On the way Wanda made a very bad mistake she drank heaps of water before coming on board and she was quite desperate to pee. She informed their leader, but there was nothing Carol could do because the inflight bathroom hasn’t been fixed yet so the only thing poor Wanda could do was try her best to hold it in.
Natasha turned to face her desperate companion and said to her “That’s why you should wear a diaper.” Black Widow was actually a big lover of pee fetishes, every morning she would wake up very early drink too much water and use the toilet with her pyjamas pants not pulled down. Sometimes she even sleeps naked and she still does the same thing but she plays around with herself when naked, this is usually masterbating.
Natasha only got into wearing diapers when she first meet Tony Stark, before of all this fame she has now a long time ago she was Russian spy. She had many accidents while as a spy, this was because she was young and wasn’t shown how to properly control your bladder. Anyway Widow is even more crazy that she makes her own diapers because the regular ones used to give away her position because of the smell of her piss or her shit. These ones she designed traps the stink so no one can smell it.
Wasp is the complete opposite, even know she would love to wear a diaper under her suit she can’t because the suit was designed to fit just on the body and it does properly close if you very baggy or big panties underneath. She loves make jokes and she’s always a nice person to meet because of her funny characteristic and her overall appearance just makes you happy to be with her.
Finally, the Captain! Carol Danvers Danvers was an officer in the United States Air Force were her passion for wetting herself on purpose came from. It started in a bar with her Air Force friend Maria Rambeau were the two of them got so drunk that they both wet themselves under the table and that accident turned Danvers on so much. She also keeps a empty water bottle in her jet plane in case she needs to go and luckily there is an autopilot feature.
You thought Natasha was weird get a look at Carol! She purposely wet her bed, woke up early go outside strip naked and pees on her lawn or in one of garbage bins or a fan favourite of hers make sure to drink a lot of water the night before successfully hold it overnight, wake up at 5 am (usually her normal wake up time), drink more water wait for it to settle and add to the load just waiting to leave her system. Shortly after it’s been added, race to the backyard and start peeing on the garden and grabs her pussy and proceeds to hold it in once again and then walks over to were she would go when she pees on the lawn and releases it all there.
She also become a colleague of the Kree superhero Mar-Vell, who taught her to fight, use her newly developed powers and also to teacher her how to successfully hold in your pee for a whole battle. She was in the great Kree Vs Skurlls war of what Earth would call the 90s and joined in 1995.
Wanda absolutely was in agonising pain, her poor body could not hold it in much longer, she couldn’t take this anymore she belted out saying “Carol please I have to go so badly please stop somewhere, please!” “Look, there is no way that I will be stopping anywhere for you to go. But I suggest if you don’t want to go in your clothes I have an empty water here for you to go in.” The temptation of her just letting go was springing up to her, but she fought it through, she really didn’t want to ruin her clothes because she thought it to be silly to fight bad guys with a wet pants.
It was inevitable what she chose, she reached out to grab the bottle, then placed it in the drink holder and then pulled down her pants. She pulled off her almost damp panties, lucky she didn’t start leaking yet. She completely naked from the waist down that didn’t make her embarrassed by other watching her nude because before Sokoiva her brother and herself were tested in a lab in a Hydra base because Hydra wanted to use their powers to bring back the old war of S.H.I.E.L.D. vs Hydra of the 1940s and beyond.
In these tests she was mostly naked with Hydra scientists watching her, she actually got used to being seen naked as this was the reason she always sleeps naked. She gripped the bottle towards her vagina and in seconds her brain must’ve clicked thinking the bottle was a toilet and immediately shoot out her golden stream. Her golden stream was so yellow and was so warm that she though she was peeing spa water, every inch of it perfectly landed into the bottle. Later on the whole bottle was full, but she kept going she walks over to the back of the Quinjet with her golden stream still coming out as she looks for the janitor’s equipment that contains a bucket and release the rest in it. It was a shame that Scarlet Witch never knew how to plunger a toilet properly, it could have saved her life!
To Be Continued... |
They finally arrived shortly after poor Wanda’s desperation, but the Captain of ship, Carol Danvers was starting to feel the urge to go. She whispered to herself “Carol. Hold it in like a big girl.” So that’s what she did. Just then Doom’s henchmen caught them, which led to a big fight, which resulted in The All Star Studded Female Avengers team wining. Danvers bladder was starting to fill up and that was bad, but coming from probably the most prolific female wetter it did scare her. She is actually comfortable with things like this because of a mission during the Kree–Skrull War of the 1990s.
The mission was to spy on a group of Skrulls because just the day before the Kree wanted to send a fleet of starships to kill all the Skrull population of a Kree ruled planet. So that’s what Vers and her team had to do (Vers is Danvers’s Kree name). That’s when Vers needed to pee and she was spying on this one guy that looked very suspicious and she had a choice relieve herself or do the job, so choose to do her job.
While spying her bladder doubled in size than when she had the choice, but she chose right because that Skrull was part of a mafia type gang who’s goal was to kill all the Krees. Through intercom Mar-Vel told her to kidnap him and bring him back to the Kree base and interrogated him. Through this Vers hasn’t peed herself yet, this was due to Mar-Vel teaching her how to be properly trained to hold in the urge to pee in battle.
She got the guy and was sent back to her mentor’s starship and only then used the bathroom on the ship, whereas as pilot Carol Danvers couldn’t do that and most of her flight tests her pants would be soaking wet because she didn’t use the bathroom before and her co-pilot Maria Rambeau would do the same, it never bothered the flight instructor though.
The Female Avengers team were just about at the doors of the entrance of Doom’s castle, Danvers now pushed aside her wetting urge, the overall feeling of it was like she had a remote in her hand and pressed the paused button and was back to normal. She then discovered that Wasp had to go as well, it was so easy to work out that she had to go because of her slight crossing of her legs and facial expressions.
“You’ve got to go Wasp?” Carol boldly spoke to her. “Yes, Carol I’ve been holding it in since leaving Avengers Mansion, I’ve been changing forms to hold it in more and look at me now I could loose control now and be humiliated in front of my team. Danvers confessed that she indeed need to pee as well, this made a Hope feel better and started her being inquisitive with questions like “How full is your bladder?”, “How long have you been holding it in?” and “Do you think your gonna make it?”
Captain Marvel answered a few and told her secret of holding it in, she told her that the secret to holding it in was..... nothing! Yes nothing you see Mar-Vel didn’t share any holding tips he actually made Carol or as she is named Vers to the Krees to drink as many bottles of water until you feel like your gonna pee your pants and hold it in and once Danvers humiliated herself in front of her mentor he asked her to do and do again until she took long for her to wet herself you see she can’t do that with Wasp now, but it was too late. Wasp’s bladder let go she froze instantly. She couldn’t believe it she’s peeing herself, Captain Marvel, Black Widow and Scarlet Witch pause and watch poor Hope Pym wet herself in front of them.
While Hope’s wetting Captain Marvel’s bladder was going into overdrive with the sound of Hope’s pee, she fought to keep it in while the rest pours out of Wasp’ aching bladder. She did lose a few squirts, but it was only little so it doesn’t matter. They enter the castle more henchmen come to fight them, it’s almost like Doom knew that they were coming, with another battle defeated, Carol was getting desperate the effect of Wasp hasn’t only done the damage of the small leaks but has pushed her bladder intake higher than before. Widow stopped every and told the leader of the team to go relieve herself in that small hallway that they past, but not to long ago.
Captain Marvel agreed to go, she walked down the narrow hallway and found a set of stairs going down. She obviously followed them and it took her to a bathroom, finally she could relieve herself. She opened the door and it was real not like that one time where she was teamed up wth Iron Man to locate Lemuria the underwater city just beneath the surface of New York City, where a sign on a door saying bathrooms wasn’t actually what the sign said, but a janitors room.
She raced into a stall she unzipped her suit off and pulled it to her ankles, she then sat on the toilet and strangely nothing came out. She waited again... nothing, she need to go now or if she doesn’t she would wet herself. Usually when she masterbates with a full bladder she pees herself so she tries it. She starts masterbating so much that you’ll think she’ll start peeing in seconds but no, she tries again and again and again, but no. She walks out of the bathroom and tries one of her fetishes ‘peeing in the sink’. A fetish she developed living on the Kree planet Hala because the toilets there are tricky to use. She climbs up onto the countertop and walks to a sink and lets go and finally it explodes.
“There must’ve been a spell on that toilet that I was in or do they all have a spell on them? This intrigued Captain Marvel that she gripped her pussy and went to check the others. After a montage of her trying each toilet except the one she went to the first place found out that she didn’t pee in any one only outside, she thought to herself could Dr Doom seriously have a wetting fetish, but for who?
Why would there be some spell placed in all the bathroom stalls too make you not pee in the toilet, why would he do this? Danvers grabbed her pussy again walked over to a large bin where she would dispose of the rest because it’s too hard climbing up onto the countertop with one hand pressed firmly on your pussy to stop you from wetting yourself.
After a lovely wetting experience, she pulled up her suit, zipped it up again and then rejoined with the group. When with the group, Natasha asked her why was she so long in the bathroom and so Carol told her “There’s a spell placed in every stall of the bathroom, I couldn’t pee! I had to climb up onto a sink to release!” She told Natasha to watch out because something like that could happen to her...
To Be Continued... |
All the members of the female Avengers wake up and are astounded to find Doom just in the building and are scared of his appearance. Captain Marvel’s bladder explodes causing her to pee as Doom watches in amazement as Carol pees an amazing golden stream, Doctor is turned on.
Carol eventually stops as she realises he is torturing them not by pain but by their own love, he’s forcing them to pee themselves because he wants them to. Sort of he wants to use their fetish to his gain and advantage.
”Welcome to my lair...” he says, “I’ve seen what you guys do, I have evidence. I know that all of you love to wet yourself and be naughty, but I mean making this part of the plan, then that’s amazing!
The plan was for Kang to rule the world, but I can see myself destroying your reputation by surfacing those CCTV footages of you wetting yourself. ”It won’t do any harm because everyone does it and we are all human it’s what we do.” Beckoned Captain Marvel. “Your right, but I’m talking about your dirty secret.”
All of a sudden the Calvary arrives the Main Avengers come (Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Hawkeye and Hulk come to save the female team. “Get them!!!!” Doom cries out at his guards as they charge at the heroes. After an intense battle with Doom’s henchmen, the main Avengers free their teammates and defeat Doom. They then give their friends their clothes back and are off to leave here.
Both Avengers teams are in the retrospective Quinjets and Doom is placed in the Cap’s Quinjet, the Quinjet for the star studded female Avengers team now stinks of Wanda’s pee that she did a few hours ago, but it was ok. Shortly after departing from Doom’s Castle, the four of them had to pee, all their bladders now have fulled so much and all of them are desperate to go and there isn’t anything that they can use as a toilet, they have to hold it.
Now they have well and truely passed the castle and they wouldn’t make it back home because they need to get from Europe to America and that’s a mighty long trip. But the main thing is that the Quinjet wasn’t properly fixed as SHIELD was supposed to fix it soon. The pilot, Danvers was starting to loose focus as her bladder was hurting her through her tight suit and put on autopilot to recommended to everyone to strip down naked to ease the restraints and to hopefully stop making hurt so much, it definitely worked and they all were fine.
Now usually the Quinjet has two bathrooms, one being looking like an aeroplane bathroom and the other one in the cargo hold. Now the reasons why both don’t work is because the cabin toilet is all smashed up and the other one was an accident by She-Hulk were she clogged the toilet. A couple of minutes later the ship was only just above water and luckily no one left the window open because of the sound of the waves crashing into each other, a real crime if you need to pee desperately.
Wanda used some magic to slow the process down, but it’ll come back again. Within a couple of more minutes that dragged like hours and they were still above the sea. The girls inside were a bit desperate now as it was a few minutes ago since Wanda used her magic on the team, each one looked totally ashamed that they were all naked together and was completely mad with the Doctor for using their fetish to his advantage.
Their were a lot of favourite wetting moments from them, but today felt that they were robbed by their hidden desire, Natasha couldn’t bare holding in again and was now in a very foul mood. When she’s in this mood she usually gets more aggressive, swears more and becomes more naughtier as well. “Fuck this!” She says in complete dismay and walks to the cargo hold, her bladder now starts to swell up and she has to hold it again. This happens towards the rest as this strains the pilot as she puts on autopilot just to hold herself with more ease.
They shouldn’t have taken this mission, they should’ve taken She-Hulk’s team’s place instead which was in Wakanda, which is such a better trip than being stuck on a ship with two toilets that you can’t use properly have have to hold it in throughout the whole trip. Black Widow now suddenly became the most desperate one as her bladder was rapidly firing up, she laid her eyes upon an empty box, she was such in a hurry to find an alternative to a toilet, so using her quick thinking she used the box. A big long stream of hot golden pee shot out of her like a rocket ship at lift-off.
She finished not so soon after, the box was soggy, but at least it wasn’t on the floor. Just then Scarlet Witch remembered that Doctor Strange taught her this spell that transports you anywhere easily, she told the rest of the team this as their bladders were becoming full again, Wasp said “It’s worth a shot.” So she did it she opened a mirror portal and you had to think to yourself of where to come out to, but all her mind thought about was the sweat relief she’ll have if she makes it.
She fought it and thought of Avengers Mansion, it transported them there and Black Widow came out from the cargo hold and saw they were back home, they opened the doors as fast as they can and Scarlet Witch, Wasp and Captain Marvel all ran so fast to make it to the bathroom, they ran all the way to the front door and by their surprise it was locked, Wanda did her portal trick so that they could enter and ran straight towards the ladies’ room and went into the individual stalls and peed in there for so long and they were still naked, imagine if Tony and the rest came back and spotted them all nude from the bathroom.
They finished and their worst dream never happened they did the opposite to get dressed and get Black Widow.
To Be Continued... |
Here's another commission from a wonderful customer over on my Tumblr! This was a fun one to write, I really hope you guys enjoy! If you like what you read, my commissions are still open--DM me for details! Anyway, enjoy part one!
***
“Chug! Chug! Chug!”
Connor chants along with the other boys as Jack downs the rest of his beer, his throat working up and down as he drinks. His sweat glistens slightly against his skin, catching the mid-morning light as he tips his head back to finish the last few drops before gasping in a breath of air and crushing the empty can in his hands.
“Yeah!” Will cheers from the passenger’s seat, laughing goofily. “Didn’t think you could actually do it!”
“Did he finish?” Henry asks, taking his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to glance backwards at Jack. Connor doesn’t really mind--they haven’t seen another car in at least five minutes, and the expanse of road ahead of them is as straight as an arrow and smooth like glass.
The four of them are on a road trip, having finished their third year of college together a couple of short weeks ago, and in order to save money on gas they’d decided to pile into Henry’s old four-person car instead of taking two separate vehicles. It’s a little bit cramped, and very hot with their combined body temperatures warming up the small space, but luckily enough, Jack had the foresight to fill one of their mini coolers with sodas and beer, squeezing it between his and Connor’s feet in the backseat.
Connor’s pretty sure he’d have already died of heatstroke if it weren’t for Jack’s smart thinking. His smarts are one of the few things Connor admires about him--As the brain of the group, Jack always has the solution for any problem, and he’s kind enough not to judge, either. Before Connor came out to Henry and Will, the two of them had found a gay porn magazine stashed beneath his dorm room bed, and all it had taken was a panicked look towards Jack for his friend to jump to his defense with an excuse about art majors and the human figure.
Connor is pretty sure that’s the moment he fell for Jack. (Fell hard.)
Unfortunately, his crush (which has since spiraled into something much more) is just about the one problem Jack can’t fix for him. Connor’s three closest friends may know that he plays for the other team now, but that doesn’t mean they share the sentiment at all. He’s spent a lot of time trying to convince himself otherwise, but he always circles back around to Jack being straight.
That doesn’t mean he can’t admire his friend from afar, though, and admire he does. Like now, for instance, as Jack lets out a long sigh and wipes the sweat from his brow with the hand still holding his beer can, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Damn, that was good,” he says, his voice low and smooth, turning to glance at Connor. “You’d better catch up, man. That was my second.”
“I’m almost done,” Connor retorts, lifting his own can to his lips. “Not everyone can swallow the whole can in one go.”
Jack lets out a huff of a laugh as Connor takes a few gulps of his second beer of the day, enjoying the crisp coldness of the drink as it trickles down his throat. “Weak,” Will jeers with a snort, turning back around in his seat to watch the open road. Connor narrows his eyes playfully at him, continuing to enjoy his beer.
“Hey, pass me a soda, would you?” Henry asks, taking one hand off the wheel and waving it in the direction of the cooler. “I don’t care what kind.”
“I got it,” Jack says, flipping the lid of the cooler and fishing out a can of ginger ale. “Must suck to have to stay sober this whole drive.”
“Whatever,” Will scoffs. “At least we won’t have to piss an hour more into the drive.”
“Caffeine is a diuretic, too, idiot,” Henry laughs, reaching back to take the offered can of soda. “But it doesn’t matter. We’ve got all the time in the world to get to the site. As long as we check in before dark, we can stop as many times as we want.”
Connor quietly takes another sip of his beer, sinking down in his seat an inch. He’s gotten pretty good at casually talking about needing to piss with his friends--they are boys in their early twenties, after all, it’s bound to come up occasionally--but it’s still weird for him to do knowing that he enjoys it more than the rest of them do. Having a piss holding fetish is probably his closest kept secret now that he’s out, and he’s sworn to himself that he’ll never tell another soul as long as he lives, but he still gets a little extra sweaty and nervous when one of his friends brings up their need.
Still, he can’t help but let his mind wander, watching as Jack fishes out another can of cheap, cold beer, leaving it unopened in his fist. How many beers is Jack going to have before he calls it done? How long will the other two wait before pulling off to a rest stop? The image of Jack squirming from side to side, shifting his hips and grinding down against the seat below him desperately, brings a whole new flush to Connor’s face, and he snaps his eyes forward automatically, as if he’s been caught.
“Better get drinking, Conn,” Will says with a grin, nodding towards Connor’s unfinished second beer. “Looks like Jack’s getting ready to down another one.”
“Since when is this a competition?” Connor retorts, though he automatically raises his can to his lips anyway. “Last I checked we were on our way to a campsite, not to die of alcohol poisoning.”
“Three or four beers won’t hurt you, anway,” Jack replies with a shrug, reaching up to press the still unopened can to his cheek. His skin squishes against it, and Connor can’t help but replace the can with a pillow, the sunlight from the window becoming early morning light in his imagination. God, he thinks, I need to get this whole crush situation under control.
“Ugh, my legs are totally numb,” Will complains, thunking his fist against his right leg for emphasis. “Henry, your car was not designed for people my size.”
“Jack is taller than you, and he’s not complaining,” Connor replies, almost too quickly. Jack flashes him a small smile, his face pink from the cold of his beer.
“Do you want to pull over for a little bit?” Henry asks. “I can keep an eye out for exits if you want to walk around for a little bit.”
“Ah, maybe in a few,” Will says. “We’re barely even halfway there, and it feels like we’ve been driving forever. Might as well tough it out for a little bit longer.”
“Might as well,” Jack agrees, stretching his long legs apart in the confined space of the backseat. His left leg rubs up against the cooler, pushing it into Connor’s leg.
“Hey, Connor, would you grab me a coke?” Will asks, reaching back blindly. “It’s too fucking hot out today.”
“Sure,” Connor agrees as he pulls the shiny red can out of the cooler. The ice water on his hand sends a shiver down his spine, but it isn’t unwelcome at all.
“Will, why don’t you put on some music?” Henry suggests as Will accepts the coke. “I bet everyone’s tired of hearing you talk, anyway.”
“Shut up, man, people love my voice!” Will replies with a laugh, smacking Henry’s arm with the back of his hand before reaching for the aux cord and plugging it into his phone.
Connor settles back with his beer, taking a couple of long swigs as the sound of Will’s music hums through the rest of the car. He can’t help but glance over at Jack, finding his friend once again staring out the window, golden light filtering through his hair and sparkling off his skin.
Jack turns, catching Connor in the act, and raises a brow at him questioningly. “You need something?” he asks, not in an unkind way.
“Ah, I was just…” Connor struggles to come up with an excuse, eyes darting around the car and landing on the unopened can of beer in Jack’s hand. “I was just wondering if you were gonna drink that,” he finishes weakly, eyes darting back up to Jack’s face.
“Hm? Oh.” Jack reaches down to crank the tab on the can, lifting it halfway to his lips. “I spaced out there for a second, totally forgot about it. But hey, wouldn’t want it to get all warm, right?”
“Right,” Connor agrees with a weak chuckle. Jack smiles warmly at him before lifting the can to his mouth, taking a few long pulls as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
Connor tears his eyes away, forcing himself to look out his own window at the flat expanse of land that passes by. No more staring for the rest of the trip, he decides, frowning at himself in the reflection of the glass. You’re giving too much away already. Just… be cool, alright?
You can definitely do that.
“Connor, you’re falling behind,” Jack says in between sips of his fourth (yes, fourth) beer. “You barely started your third, and I’m already almost done with this one!”
“You’re a lot bigger of a person than I am, jerk,” Connor retorts, taking in another mouthful of beer and swallowing it automatically. He’s not even thirsty anymore, but the alcohol seems to have done its job in loosening him up--he keeps laughing at nothing, and he’s somehow caught the competitive spirit that Will and Jack had slipped into since they started drinking.
“Excuses, excuses,” Jack chuckles, shaking his head with a smile. “Come on, I bet you can finish it all at once if you try hard enough.”
“I wouldn’t say try hard is in Connor’s vocabulary,” Will snorts.
“Hey!” Connor protests, moving his free hand to smack the back of Will’s car seat, giggling when Will throws a fake glare back at him. “I’ll finish it right now, just watch.”
“Before you do, is it alright if we pull over here?” Henry asks. “I gotta take a leak, and I don’t want you spilling all over my car when I’m driving. You’re loose enough already.”
Jack snorts, covering his hand with his mouth to hide his laughter, so Connor reaches out again to smack his arm away. “If you’re gonna laugh at me, at least do it where I can see it,” he says with a grin.
“Okay, we’re pulling over,” Henry decides as he changes lanes, drifting towards a small rest station off the side of the road. “I really don’t want to wait anymore, and my legs feel like shit, too.”
“Same here,” Will agrees, stretching his arms over his head. “How many hours we got left, anyway?”
“Three or four,” Henry says. “I’m glad we got the site so cheap, but couldn’t it have been closer to campus?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Jack replies with a shrug. Henry maneuvers the car down the narrow entrance road, scanning the area until he finds a free parking spot.
“Ah, finally!” Will sighs, hand on the door handle before Henry can even finish pulling in. “I feel like we’ve been in here forever. I should not have drank that much soda.”
“Are you two coming?” Henry asks, turning around in his seat. “Like I said, we’ve still got a while to go before we get there.”
Connor looks over at Jack uncertainly, then down at his own beer. He hasn’t been to the bathroom since he woke up this morning, and he does feel a bit of a need to go if he’s being honest. He likes holding, but he’s not sure if he would enjoy it around his three closest friends, even if they don’t know about his piss kink.
Before he can answer, Jack chooses for him. “I’ll stay here,” he decides, holding up his beer. “I wanna finish this one before you guys get back, and I have to see Connor chug that entire can. That is, if he can.”
“Of course I can!” Connor says automatically, lifting the almost full container in the air for emphasis. “I’ll prove it to you.”
“You two are crazy if you plan on going the whole ride without pissing,” Will says with a laugh. “But it’s your funeral.”
“We’ll be quick,” Henry promises, pulling himself out of the car and closing the door, leaving Connor alone with Jack.
“Well?” Jack prompts, tapping his beer against Connor’s where it hangs midair. “Bottom’s up! First to finish gets to pick the music for the next hour.”
“You’re on!” Connor laughs, lifting his can to his mouth and tipping his head back. The beer is cold and fresh on his tongue, and it pools in his mouth almost too fast for him to swallow. He drinks as fast as he can, ignoring the telling signals from his bladder and throwing his common sense out the window. He’s gotten pretty good at holding ever since he started exploring his kink, and he’s sure he’ll be able to last until the next rest stop, especially since Jack drank a whole can more than he did in the same amount of time. Surely it won’t be long until they pull off the highway once again.
And until they do, he gets to imagine Jack squirming around in his seat, trying to contain four cans of beer as subtly as he can, his face growing red from effort and embarrassment. And if that isn’t a good reason to pass up a bathroom break himself, he doesn’t know what is.
An hour later finds Connor shifting his weight from side to side in his seat, his hands pressed to the seat cushion on either side of his legs, trying as hard as he can to think about something other than the pressure between his hips. He knows from nights of careful research that it should take about two hours for a drink to go through him, which means everything after the second can of beer hasn’t even hit him yet, and it’s that thought that both scares him and turns him on a little.
He’s never held around his friends before, and he’s only ever held in public when he had sure access to a bathroom. It’s weird, knowing how bad he has to pee--maybe a six out of ten and quickly approaching an eight--and not knowing when he’ll be able to let it go.
On the other hand, he’s pretty sure that Jack is getting desperate too, and it’s honestly even hotter than he ever imagined it would be. Jack’s legs are spread open a little bit, completely still, and he’s slouching down in his seat, one hand tensed on his thigh, the other alternating between playing with his hair and drumming against the car door. He’s quiet--they all are at this point in the drive, letting the music Connor had selected earlier fill the empty space, but Jack is the kind of quiet that means he’s concentrating really hard on something.
Connor would bet good money that the thing he’s concentrating on is his full bladder.
Now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure that Jack hasn’t gone to the bathroom since they all woke up this morning, either. The four of them made their way down from the house they’d stayed over at together after getting ready for the day and eating a quick meal, and then they’d hit the road shortly after that. That means that Jack must be feeling as full as Connor is, if not more so.
He side-eyes his friend as Jack shifts in his seat, squirming ever so slightly, his hips lifting off the seat for just a second before landing again. He’s clearly trying to be subtle about it, but he’s not doing a very good job, at least from Connor’s perspective. He watches with interest as Jack continues to move around, first hooking one ankle under the other, then sitting straight up and shifting his weight to his right side, leaning heavily against the car door. At least he seems too distracted with his need to notice Connor watching him.
Surely he’ll ask to pull over at a rest stop soon, Connor thinks, glancing away from the show for a second to check for road signs. It’s been a while since the last rest stop was advertised, and they’d passed that one almost fifteen minutes ago, so there must be another one coming up soon.
He’s distracted by a soft grunt from his right--his eyes snap back to Jack, whose face is scrunched up in a grimace. His legs move to squeeze against one another as he hunches over slightly, the hand on his thigh twitching towards his crotch for just a second before settling back once again. He must be pretty full, Connor thinks, if he’s wanting to grab his dick already.
Once again, the thought of Jack squirming around with his hands clutching his penis makes its way into Connor’s head. He feels his face turn red and whips his head forward too quickly to escape notice, but he doesn’t dare turn back around. What would Jack say if he knew what Connor was thinking?
He keeps his eyes trained on the back of Henry’s seat, willing the blush off of his face, but when he feels a buzz in his pocket he has to clamp his legs together to avoid a leak. His bladder throbs inside of him, all but forgotten, and now it’s his turn to grimace as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
Strangely enough, it’s a text from Jack of all people. Connor recognizes the little profile picture he’d drawn for Jack--the one his friend had insisted on using--before he even reads the name. Nervously, he glances up at Jack and finds him gazing back already, eyes flickering down to the screen meaningfully.
Connor looks back down, taking a moment to un-glue his legs from each other before he opens the text. A simple U ok? stares back at him. Confused, he looks back up at Jack; his friend motions to his face in a general wave, then makes a “spooked” motion with his hands.
I’m good, Connor replies, then quickly types out the first excuse that comes to mind. Just kind of have to pee is all.
When he gets the courage to look up, Jack is already typing out an answer, and a few seconds later his phone vibrates again.
Dude, me too. I’ve had to go for ages
Why haven’t you said anything? Connor writes back. I’m sure they would have stopped for you.
Don’t say anything! Jack answers. We can’t let them know we have to piss. They’ll make so much fun of us for skipping the last break
Connor’s eyes go wide, and he almost answers out loud from surprise. What are we supposed to do, then? he asks, immediately looking over at Jack. His crush grimaces once again, hunching over in his seat and re-crossing his ankles.
We’ve just got to hold it until one of them decides to pull over on their own, he says, and Connor feels his heart stop in his chest. The others only went to the bathroom an hour ago, and they’ve still got two or three more to go until they make it to the campsite. Is Jack planning on holding it the whole time? He’s already moving around quite a bit, knocking his knees together and constantly changing positions, and his forehead is shiny with sweat that Connor’s sure isn’t just from the heat.
Are you sure you can wait that long? he asks, throwing caution to the wind. He can always play his own interest off for sympathy, and besides, Jack seems pretty open to talking about it.
Of course I can! Jack replies seconds later. Obviously I’d go if I could, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hold it.
Connor bites his lip, typing out the next message on his phone. You don’t seem so sure about that, he ends up saying, looking up just in time to catch Jack pressing the heel of his hand into his crotch. It’s not the frantic grabbing and squirming that Connor always ends up imagining, but it’s still beyond hot and it has him once again following his reckless side.
I’m 22, not some kid, Jack writes, throwing a hand out to lightly punch Connor in the side. I bet you’re just trying to get ME to ask them to pull over for you.
No way! Connor replies, forcing his legs apart further as if to prove his point. His bladder gives off a dull throb in protest, reminding him that now is no time to let pride get in the way, but the kinkier side of his brain has fully taken over at this point and there’s no stopping it now. I could hold it the whole way there if I needed to. Besides, you’re the one squirming around here!
The last part earns him another gentle jab in the side, but Connor still tenses as the flesh near his bladder is squished. Despite what he’d said, he isn’t completely sure that he’d be able to last all the way to the campsite. His six out of ten is quickly becoming a seven, and the third beer still hasn’t hit him. He’s glad for all those late-night holds when his roommates were out, but he knows no amount of practice can keep him from wetting himself ever again. Still, there’s no way he’ll be the one to cave in and ask for a bathroom, not when he can distract himself from his own desperation with Jack’s the whole way there.
His phone vibrates in his hand once again, and he draws his attention from his bladder to focus on the conversation instead. Jack has written I bet you wish you were squirming like me with a “;)” at the end of the sentence--the last part makes his mouth dry, which in turn gives him an idea.
I bet you can’t fit another drop in you, you’re so full, he writes, sending it before he even realizes how kinky it sounds. When he looks up to check, he’s met with an inquisitive stare, a raised eyebrow.
What are you getting at? Jack sends back a moment later. Connor tries not to grin as he gestures towards the cooler meaningfully, then makes a drinking motion with his hand. He tries not to get too excited at the momentary flicker of doubt in Jack’s eyes--maybe he really is too full to drink--but it’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared.
“Fine,” Jack mouths at him, his eyebrows drawing together as he flips the lid of the cooler, much to Connor’s surprise. He lets out a quiet hiss as his hand meets the frigid water and half-melted ice, but after a few seconds of fishing he manages to pull out a can of cola. Connor watches with delight as his friend cracks the top of the can and takes a few long drinks, shivering in between gulps of soda, his other hand clenched into a fist at his side.
Jack finishes drinking with a soft, heavy sigh, then turns his gaze to Connor, holding the cola can out to him. Connor frowns, confused, until Jack leans forward even more, swishing the remaining soda around inside the can. His eyebrows are raised once again, challenging Connor to say no.
Connor pretends to glare back, acting like this little dare of theirs isn’t one of the most exciting things that’s happened to him all week. He accepts the can, shivering both from the leftover droplets of ice water and from Jack’s hand brushing against his, lifting it to his lips and chugging the rest of the soda as quickly as he can. It feels like a little over half the can, but he doesn’t really mind--after all, Jack had drank an entire beer more than he had at first, and it can’t be that hard to convince him to down another.
He grits his teeth together as he drinks, pressing his thighs together and shifting around in his seat as the cold soda makes its way down his throat. Only two or three more hours, he reminds himself, and then I can pee. Maybe I’ll even be lucky enough to go right next to Jack. Wouldn’t that be a dream come true?
He looks back down at his phone, where a new text waits on the homescreen. Good luck, tough guy! it reads, followed by You’ll need it >:)
Connor’s pretty sure he’s already maxed out on luck today, but he keeps that thought to himself.
“Hey, look at that!” Henry says, waving his phone in the general direction of the backseat. “We’re ahead of schedule. Should be there in an hour if we don’t hit traffic and don’t make any more stops.”
“G-Great,” Connor grits out, barely even glancing at the phone screen. He’s much too focused on his bladder, which has been screaming at him to empty it for the past forty-five minutes. He knows he’s held more for longer many times before, but for some reason it feels like he’s the fullest he can possibly get. Every few seconds his bladder throbs under his seatbelt, hours worth of piss begging to be let out. He wouldn’t have ever dared getting this desperate in a public place before, and if it were just him who needed to go he would have swallowed his pride and asked for a rest stop ages ago.
But one look at Jack has him clenching his muscles and steeling his resolve. Jack, whose face is currently stained bright red, who can’t keep still for five seconds without breathing so heavily it sounds like he’d just run a mile. Right now he’s got his hips lifted as far away from the seat as his seatbelt will let him, his hands in fists braced on either side of his body. He’s so clearly desperate for the bathroom, and yet both of their states seem to have gone unnoticed by both Henry and Will.
He watches as Jack changes positions once again, letting his ass fall back down to the seat below him and bringing his knees close together, shimmying back and forth as he bites at his lip like he’s just walked out of a PornHub video. All of a sudden he gasps, his hands flying to his crotch and pressing down, one knee hooking over the other one. Connor feels his own face heat up as he tries to keep his libido in check, though the image does end up stiffening his dick enough to stave off the next wave of his own desperation.
He figures that he can get away with pretty much anything so long as the boys in the front seats don’t notice, so he takes the opportunity to pinch the tip of his half-hard cock, sighing in relief as he does. God, he’s really desperate--the pressure in his bladder is now one of the only things on his mind. He can barely even tell which song is playing through the car’s speakers now; only that its gentle vibrations are not making his situation any easier.
Maybe he should have thought ahead, been smart about it instead of taking Jack’s soda challenge. Maybe the whole “alcohol is a diuretic” thing does hold more truth to it than he’d thought. Either way, the only thing keeping him from beginning to leak is his semi and the thought that Jack is even more frantic than he is.
He hears a quiet “Oh, oh God,” from his right and glances over, surprised to see that he can see the faint outline of Jack’s penis where he’s gripping it through his pants. There’s no wet spot yet, but it looks like it won’t be long now before he begins to leak in earnest.
A wicked idea enters Connor’s head, one that he can’t resist even though his logical side tells him it’s an absolutely horrible idea. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and types out a quick text, chewing on his lip for a couple of seconds before he decides fuck it and hits send.
😄 You ready to give up and ask for a stop yet or what?
His eyes flicker over to Jack, waiting for the far-away cell towers to deliver his message. Seconds later, Jack lets out a high, soft moan, hunching over and shifting his hips from side to side as he squeezes at his cock. It’s probably both the hottest thing Connor has ever seen and heard.
Jack glances over at him, reaching for his phone when he notices the one in Connor’s hand. He doesn’t seem very ashamed of holding himself, which only adds fuel to the fire that is Connor’s terrible idea.
It takes a minute for Jack to type out his response with one hand, his other glued to his groin with no sign of moving any time soon.
J: Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m about to pop
J: But there’s no way in hell I’m asking them to pull over for me!
Connor fights the grin that wants to pop up on his face, though it quickly turns strained as a wave of need hits him. He presses his thighs together and points his toes as he types as quickly as he can, then drops a hand down to hold himself. At least his desperation will serve as a good distraction if his plan goes awry.
😄 Are you sure about that?
😄 You’re holding your dick so much I’m tempted to offer to help you with it
He watches out of the corner of his eye as Jack reads the text. His friend’s eyes go wide for a split second, but as soon as it’s there it’s gone, and he’s typing away once again.
J: At least buy a guy dinner first, jeez
Connor feels his heartbeat stutter as he reads the response, his mouth dropping open a bit as he white-knuckles his phone, both from shock and the need to squeeze something to make the pressure inside him go away. Before he can even begin to think of what to respond, a huge wave of desperation overtakes him and he lets the phone slip out of his grip, gasping as his hands fly to his crotch to stop the impending flood. He’s at a nine out of ten now, easy--he can feel the piss at the tip of his cock, fighting as hard as it can to escape.
He risks opening one eye and glancing to his right, wondering how Jack will react to his desperation. Will he be grossed out if he notices that Connor is half hard still? Will he kindly pretend not to notice at all?
He’s surprised when his eyes focus enough to notice the expression on Jack’s face. He looks flushed, almost flustered… And more than anything, he looks intrigued.
“Wow,” Jack mouths at him, somewhere between impressed and teasing. Connor shoots a weak smile at him as he circles the base of his dick with his hands, squeezing with all his might. Luckily neither of the boys in the front has noticed anything yet, but it’s still both terrifying and exciting to be this desperate in their presence. |
Sorry about the weird smiley faces all over the story! They were supposed to look like "C :" to indicate that Connor was talking, but the site automatically translated them to to smileys. I can't edit the topic, but I'm fixing it in Part 2 so it should look like "C :" now!
Without futher ado, here is part two!
***
Connor winces as he lets go with one hand, reaching down to grab his phone. He’s definitely pushing his luck, but that look that Jack had given him… It’s not the kind of look that passes between friends. It’s his turn to type with one hand, and he’s shaking ever so slightly on top of that, but at last he manages to type out another text and hit send.
C : Enjoying the show?
Seconds later, he received a reply:
J: I’d give it a perfect review if I could let go of my dick long enough to type it out
J: Are you regretting that last soda btw?
C : Nah, I could hold for longer if I wanted to
C : Not that I have a choice
J: You’re lying, I can tell!
J: I’m bigger than you and even I feel like I’m gonna wet myself any second now
C : That sounds like a you problem
J: I bet you have to go just as bad as me
C : Is it the desperation talking or were you always this delusional?
J: Oh shut up
J: If you don’t have to go, I bet you won’t mind grabbing another soda, right?
C : What if I say I’m not thirsty anymore?
J: Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to drink it
J: I just wanna see the look on your face when your hand hits that ice cold cooler water
Connor stares down at his phone, a slow smile spreading over his face. Intentionally or not, Jack is playing right into the almost exhibisionistic fantasy he’s had for a while, both of his friend teasing him while he’s full of piss and of him torturing a desperate Jack right back. As carefully as he can, he sets his phone on the middle seat and reaches over to flip the lid of the cooler, staring into the slightly sloshing water with a mixture of dread and excitement. He can feel Jack’s eyes on him as he reaches in slowly, his fingers barely brushing the surface of the water.
Better to get it over with, Connor figures, and with that he dives in, submerging his whole hand in the ice water. He lets out a choked-off moan as his bladder convulses, trying in anguish to expel the hours and hours worth of urine. He grabs the first thing he can feel--a can of off-brand lemon lime soda nobody had bothered to drink yet--and yanks his hand out, dropping the can onto the floor of the car and shoving his hand back down onto his crotch.
It’s a bad idea all around. The water that had clung to his hand soaks into his jeans and through his underwear, brushing cool moisture across his sensitive penis as he clutches himself. “Ah, oh ,” he hisses, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he moves his hips wildly back and forth, trying to keep the ocean of piss inside of him. It takes almost thirty seconds for the effect of the water to wear off on him, and it’s the closest he’s come to leaking since he’d last wet himself.
At the very least, he notes once he has himself back under control, Jack doesn’t seem to be faring much better. He’s constantly squirming, grinding his hips down into the car seat and letting out short, airy pants as he grabs at his dick, switching from hand to hand and occasionally using both. Every time he has to stifle a moan or a sigh, Connor’s cock gets a little bit harder, which in turn helps him hold it.
Jack doesn’t reach for his phone to text anymore, but he does glance over at Connor every few seconds, like he’s checking to make sure Connor isn’t watching. (Or like he’s making sure Connor is watching--it’s such unfamiliar territory that Connor can’t tell in the slightest.) It doesn’t matter, because either way Connor can’t bear to take his eyes off the show before him. It’s like every one of his fantasies of Jack wriggling around, drops of yellow staining the plush white bed under him, only this is even better because it’s real .
Jack is actually desperate in front of him, and better yet he’s flirting with him over it.
Connor’s thoughts are interrupted by a loud sigh from the front seat. He immediately pulls his hands out of his crotch, cringing at the lack of pressure and squeezing his thighs together to make up for it. He glances up in the direction of the sigh, which sounded like it came from Will’s part of the car.
“Something wrong?” Henry asks from the driver’s seat, reaching to lower the music.
“I’ve gotta piss again,” Will explains, crossing his arms over his head. “Guess I shouldn’t have had that last soda.”
“You want to pull over somewhere?” Henry offers, waving with one hand at the side of the road. “If it’s an emergency we can stop here, and if not we can always keep an eye out for a real rest stop.”
Connor’s eyes go wide, and he side-glances at Jack, who seems to have the same thought as him.
If Will asks to stop at a restroom, the game will be over.
Connor tries not to let the disappointment show on his face, though he knows the cons outweigh the pros for him. Sure, he’d get to pee at last and he wouldn’t be in danger of wetting himself around his best friends anymore, but he’d also lose the opportunity to see Jack slowly lose control, spurting hot leaks of piss into his jeans as he moans and squirms like crazy, trying his best to hold it in… In Connor’s mind, that image is priceless, worth more than any shred of dignity he might have left.
“Nah, it’s alright,” Will says with a wave of his hand, and Connor barely stops himself from breathing a massive sigh of relief. (Not relief relief, but still.) Unless Jack decides to speak up, it looks like his fantasy come true is back on track.
“What about you two?” Henry asks, his eyes flickering to the rear-view mirror, and Connor thanks the stars that he’s been able to keep his hand away from his groin for so long. “You haven’t gone since we got on the road, right? Do you want to pull over somewhere?”
“God, I totally forgot!” Will exclaims. “You guys must be pissing your pants back there.”
“Haha…” Connor trails off awkwardly, shifting his weight to his other side and pressing his knees into each other. “I mean, not yet .”
“What about you, Jack?” Will asks almost tauntingly. “You ready to admit you were an idiot for not going before?”
“I’m not admitting anything,” Jack says with a strained laugh, finding the strength somewhere to kick the back of Will’s seat.
“Oh, come on! You must be bursting back there!”
“Well, yeah…” Jack and Connor glance at each other at the same time, and something like mischief catches in Jack’s eye as they do. “I kinda feel like I’m about to explode,” he admits slyly, never breaking eye contact.
“Ha! I knew it!”
“Maybe it was all those beers… How many did I drink, four?”
“And half a soda,” Connor grits out, his dick throbbing both from arousal and desperation. He checks the rear view mirror and slowly slips a hand into his crotch once he’s sure Henry’s not looking. “You must be really full, huh?”
“Of course,” Jack agrees. “Although you can’t be much better off. You had almost as much to drink as I did, and it’s been hours since you last let go, hasn’t it?”
“Y-Yeah,” Connor manages to reply, heat flaring up in his cheeks. His dick feels rock hard under his hand, but he can’t stop kneading at it, both from his intense desperation and his need for friction. “ Oh ,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut for a second as the mix of arousal and need sends his brain into overdrive.
“I really don’t mind pulling over if it’s that bad,” Henry offers, but Jack answers for him.
“We’re f-fine, Henry,” he says in a less-than-convincing voice. “Don’t worry about us, just get to the c-campsite.”
“You gonna last the next twenty minutes, Connor?” Henry asks, glancing back in the rear view mirror again. This time Connor doesn’t bother taking his hands away from his crotch, hoping that his friend isn’t able to see how erect he is from the front seat.
“I’ll, mmh, be fine,” he says breathily, eyes practically rolling back in his head. His dick is so incredibly sensitive to every brush of his hand, to the point where he doesn’t know if he’d rather piss or jack off more. He looks over to see that Jack is doubled over once, again, one leg crossed over the other with his hands trapped in between them, putting as much pressure on his dick as he possibly can. His face is just as flushed (bad, bad choice of words) as Connor knows his is, and when he opens his eyes to meet Connor’s, his pupils are blown wide.
“If you say so,” Henry says with a shrug, speeding up as he passes the first car in minutes. “I’ll be honest, I was kind of hoping you’d ask to pull over. All this talk about pissing is making me need to go, too.”
“If those two can hold it for six and a half hours, I’m sure you and I can make it the rest of the trip without a bathroom break,” Will reasons. Connor’s eyes widen as he hears the number--six and a half hours?! No, it’s been more than that--it’s closer to seven or eight hours, considering neither of them peed after that first trip to the bathroom in the morning.
“Still, it’s not like it’s comfortable,” Henry says with a sigh.
“Oh, I know,” Jack says, his voice carrying an undertone of… mischief? Excitement? “I’m… not comfortable either.”
Through his haze of need, Connor notices that Jack isn’t just grabbing himself anymore, but moving his hand in small, open-palmed circles. Is he hard? he wonders, mouth dropping open a bit. Is Jack… getting off on this, too?
“Hey, try not to think about waterfalls,” Will pipes up, gleeful. “Or rainstorms, or whitewater rafting…”
Connor shudders, the very mention of all that gushing, gurgling, free-flowing water sending unwelcome images of toilets and showers to his brain. “ God, ” he hisses, knocking his knees together and bucking his hips in the air. Once again, he feels someone’s gaze locked onto him, and he doesn’t even need to check to know that it’s Jack who’s looking.
“Knock it off,” Henry cuts in, though there’s no bite behind his words. “The last thing I need is those two causing a flood of their own in the back of my car. I just had this thing cleaned a couple of months ago!”
“Oh, did you?” Will teases. “I couldn’t tell.”
A flood, huh? Connor thinks to himself, staring down at where the band of his jeans cuts into his bloated, distended bladder. I bet together the two of us could cover the whole floor of the car in piss, and then some. Jesus Christ, I have to go!
“Ten minutes,” Henry tells them as he pulls off the main road, onto an unfortunately bumpy dirt path.
Connor swears he can feel each tiny bit of gravel that they drive over, the bumps echoing throughout his bladder as he holds on for dear life. He hears Jack panting from his right and opens one eye to see that his friend is folded in half, both hands buried deep between his legs as he lets his hair fall into his face, chewing on his lip. He must be close to bursting, he realizes, noting the couple of beads of sweat dripping down his face.
As much as he’d love to watch Jack lose control and wet himself, soaking his jeans and the seat below him with hot urine, he’s pretty sure pissing himself in front of his friends isn’t something that Jack would be into, even if he is having fun holding. And it looks like they’ve only got a couple of minutes until one of them starts to leak, or even lets go completely.
“H-Hey, Henry,” he stammers, letting go of his penis with one hand to tap Henry on the shoulder. “We’re not, ah, um, we’re not so far away from the campsite, right?”
“Um, I guess so,” Henry says, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s like a seven minute drive, maybe a fifteen minute walk?”
“Could you let me and Ja- ack out here?” Connor asks, hoping the excitement doesn’t come through in his voice. “I d-don’t know about him , but I feel like I’m gonna pop, mmh! Any second now.”
“ Please, ” Jack gasps, lifting his head for just long enough for Connor to catch a hint of panic on his face. “I can’t hold it all the way to the, hahh, to the campsite!”
“Yeah, sure!” Henry slows the car to a stop, and Jack is out the door before Connor has even unfastened his seatbelt. “Just follow the trail to Campsite L, and text me if you get lost, okay?”
“We will!” Connor promises, pushing the door open and setting his foot on the dirt path. Immediately gravity increases on his bladder and he lets out a loud, strangled moan as he dances in place, trying to keep himself dry. “Bye!” he yells, hobbling off to the side of the road after Jack, who’s already a good few feet ahead, still holding onto his cock for dear life.
Every step he takes is absolute torture--the pressure inside of him is enough to drive him crazy, and yet he’s still horny as hell despite the circumstances. “J-Jack, ahh , wait up!” he calls as he hears the car start behind him. “ Jack !”
“Hurry up!” Jack calls without looking back, stomping his feet in place. “I seriously feel like I’m about to piss myself, Connor, it’s so bad. Ohh, I need to go!”
The two boys stumble through the forest, going as fast as they can without losing control completely, though it isn’t long before they start to leak. Connor makes it maybe fifteen steps from where he’d left the car before his bladder decides it’s had enough and contracts harshly, trying to override his control. He gasps in shock as a stream of piss jets out of his dick, wetting his pants from the crotch to the inside of the knee within three seconds, before he finally manages to cut off the flow.
Jack seems to be at the same stage in his desperation, because seconds later Connor hears a loud “Oh my God!” followed by the telltale splatter of urine against the ground. The sound is torturous to Connor’s ears, though he decides it’s worth it when he looks up and sees Jack bent over with his hands jammed between his legs, piss dripping out from between his fingers.
“How f-far do we have to go?” he asks from his hunched-over place a couple of feet ahead.
“We’ve gotta, haah, get away from the road,” Connor grits out, his bladder pounding inside of him, demanding he give it back the release he’d stolen from it. “C-Can’t have any cars seeing us when we… go …”
“Fine,” Jack agrees, reaching out to push himself forward on one of the nearer trees and stumbling a little as he goes. “You know,” he continues, looking back over his shoulder at Connor, “under different circumstances I don’t t-think I’d mind as much.”
“ Ah… Yeah?” Connor adjusts the hand on his stiff, saturated dick and moans lightly as the fabric of his jeans rubs him just right. “What do you-- mmm --what do you mean?”
“I think, oh , that you know what I mean,” Jack pants, breaking eye contact to squeeze his eyes shut against another flood of desperation. “ God, I think my bladder’s in danger of p-popping right now.”
“Me too,” Connor agrees, glancing down at himself. Wow . His bladder isn’t the only bulge that’s noticeable--he’s pretty sure he hasn’t been this hard in years , and that’s including the few boyfriends he’d had in the past. He wonders if he would have already wet himself without the help of his boner, or if it’s his years of holding that are keeping the entirety of the Caspian Sea inside of him.
It feels like hours pass as the two of them stumble deeper into the forest, trying their best to contain the beer and soda inside of them for just a little bit longer. And yet when Connor works up the nerve to look over his shoulder (and the self restraint to look away from Jack, who’s currently hopping in place with one leg hooked over the other) he can still see the road through the bushes.
“I t-think this is it for me,” Jack moans, his breath fluttering. “I’ve, ah, never had to go this bad before!”
“Wait!” Connor pants, lifting one hand from his crotch to hold out towards Jack. “Over th-there!”
He moves his arm to point towards a deep seclusion in the woods, just out of sight of the road. “Just hold on, nngh, a little longer!”
“I… I don’t know if I can,” Jack admits, looking back at Connor with red cheeks and watery eyes. Connor can’t help but stare at him for a few seconds, taking in his messy hair and parted lips, his legs that are pressed so tightly together, and his hands, which are gripping the base of an obviously erect penis…
Oh.
So Connor was right before, and it hadn’t just been wishful thinking. Jack is getting some pleasure from holding it in, whether he meant to or not. And now here they are, together alone in the middle of a forest, both desperate to pee and totally aroused at the same time...
“Come on…” Connor says, drawing his eyes back up to meet Jack’s. “I- I’ll make it worth your while.”
Jack’s eyes widen once again, and he glances down at Connor’s crotch, where his piss-stained jeans are clearly tented in the front. Connor’s face heats up, but he doesn’t move to hide it at all. There’s no way he’s misread the situation--the evidence is right there in front of him, after all. And all those looks they’d given each other on the ride over, the flirty texts they’d sent each other… It can’t just be a coincidence, or a misunderstanding.
“O… Okay,” Jack says, his eyes wide as he turns to hobble towards the secluded area. Every few steps a couple of drops of urine make their way through his fingers, leaving tiny circles in the ground below him, but Connor knows that those tiny little leaks aren’t giving him any relief at all. His underwear rubs against him as he moves, and he shudders at the soft friction and the wetness of it all.
“ Ah… O-Oh… ” Jack sighs, pausing at the entrance to the clearing to dance in place. “Thank God we’re finally h-here…”
Before Connor knows what’s going on or has a chance to look away, Jack is scrambling at his zipper and pulling it down, reaching into his underwear to pull out his dick and leaking the tiniest bit along the way.
Wow , Connor thinks, his eyes going wide as he takes in his friend’s length. He can’t say he hasn’t fantasized about that kind of stuff before, but he’d never imagined Jack’s cock to look as insanely appealing as it does. It’s still stiff, too, and a little red, and for some reason Jack hasn’t actually started pissing yet…
Before he can stop himself, Connor takes a step forward, his own dick hard and straining against the confines of his jeans. Jack looks up, still not peeing, an almost hopeful expression on his face.
“C-Can I…” Connor stops mid-sentence to shift his weight to his other side, shimmying his thighs together as his bladder throbs inside of him. He’s never needed to pee so explosively bad before, and yet his need is the last thing on his mind at a time like this.
“Yeah,” Jack breathes, turning his whole body to face Connor. Hesitantly, Connor reaches out, brushing his fingers along the side of Jack’s dick and inhaling sharply as it twitches in interest. Jack makes a nngh sound, his breath stuttering as Connor continues to lightly touch him.
“I’ve never done this before,” he breathes, looking up at Connor unsurely. “What am I supposed to…”
“Do you want to try?” Connor asks, taking his free hand away to gesture at his lower half. Jack hesitates a second longer, then nods, watching hungrily as Connor lets go of his aching dick to unzip his fly. He considers pulling himself out, but instead goes for Jack’s hand, guiding it to the front of his jeans and letting Jack maneuver his way inside. His knuckles brush against the very bottom of Connor’s bladder and he shudders, eyes fluttering shut as Jack finally reaches deep enough and pulls his penis out.
“ Oh… ” he moans as Jack strokes him once, unsurely, then again with a bit more pressure. “That’s good…”
He forces his eyes open and reaches out once again, taking Jack’s leaking cock in his hand and twisting his wrist as he strokes, over and over again. Jack is making tiny little sounds, breathing shallowly and whining every time a bit of urine gushes out of him. Some of it splashes onto Connor’s lower leg, but he could care less at this point.
Jack may not have much experience jacking other guys off, but he’s sure as hell not doing a bad job of it. Maybe he mastrubates a lot, Connor thinks, the idea making him even harder as it enters his mind. Only it’s different now--he doesn’t have to fantasize, with the real deal right in front of him, on him. Every inch of his skin is so, so sensitive thanks to the overfilled capacity of his bladder, and Jack’s hand on him is practically sending him into overdrive.
“Ah, ah! ” he exclaims as his bladder pangs harshly, forcing a short jet of piss to spurt out of his dick. He glances down, noticing that it had shot straight onto the leg of Jack’s pants and is dripping onto his hiking boots.
“Good?” Jack asks, pausing his ministrations, and Connor can’t help but thrust into his hand to get more friction.
“ Don’t stop now, ” he urges, taking a step closer until he can feel Jack’s labored breath on his cheek.
“Oh God,” Jack hisses as Connor speeds up his strokes, pausing briefly to drag his thumb over the tip, his fingers stroking the underside. “ Oh God, Connor! ”
His name sounds so delicious coming from Jack’s mouth that he practically comes right there and then. But right before he loses himself completely, his bladder contracts harshly, and he has to press his thighs together and shift his hips from side to side to keep from losing it all.
“Ah… haah… I still have to go so bad ,” he whispers as a few stray drops fall from his cock, teasing him with the thought of release.
“Me too,” Jack agrees, his hand shaking as it pumps up and down on Connor’s dick. “But… I think it m-makes it better, don’t you?”
“ Oh, yeah,” Connor groans. His legs feel weak under him, and he swears he can feel every cell in his body.
The sound of hushed moans and cries fills the seclusion, occasionally broken by a gush of hot piss hitting the forest floor. Connor knows he’s leaked enough to fill a whole can of soda on his own, and yet he still feels as desperate as ever--but at this point he’s too hard to lose control completely. Still, each stroke of Jack’s hand on his rock hard dick brings him closer to orgasm, and by the looks of things Jack feels the same. His penis is dribbling piss and precome, warm and sticky in Connor’s hand.
Time to bring him over the edge, Connor thinks, increasing his hand’s speed and making sure to pay attention to the tip every couple of seconds, smearing the leaked liquid around like some kind of lube. “Come on, Jack,” he huffs, eyes flickering between Jack’s dick and his face. “Come for me.”
That’s all it takes to send Jack to orgasm--his friend lets out a cry of pleasure as sticky white come squirts out of him, landing just to the left of Connor’s shoe. The ejaculate is immediately followed by an uncontrolled spurt of piss, followed by another, and suddenly Jack is gushing onto the ground with force, hours and hours worth of liquid finally exiting his body.
It’s that sight alone that sends Connor over the edge--he comes harder than he ever thinks he has before, his vision blurring and whiting out as Jack’s hand slips off his penis. He feels almost dizzy as his orgasm racks through him, shaking his body from fingertip to fingertip. His come lands in the rapidly growing puddle at Jack’s feet, sinking to the bottom of the urine like a feather in the air.
“Jesus,” Connor breathes, taking a deep breath in, but his bladder squeezes in protest, reminding him that he’s still far from empty. He makes a quick grab for his penis, but he’s too slow to prevent the line of urine from marking itself along the thighs of Jack’s pants in a splatter pattern.
He barely has time to notice before he’s pissing full force onto the ground, his urine mixing with Jack’s and creating a puddle beneath their shoes. And God , if that orgasm hit him hard, then finally being able to release all that liquid, those cans of beer and soda and water from the morning… It’s almost better . His stream is so powerful, thundering against the ground with force, and he can’t help but moan as his bladder finally deflates, letting go of the ocean inside of it.
The two of them piss in silence for almost a minute and a half, the sound of splattering echoing in Connor’s ears even as his stream tapers off. He doesn’t even bother tucking himself away, taking a few seconds to catch his breath and regain his bearings. His head is spinning from the events of the day, and he feels bone tired and jelly-like at the same time, but realistically he knows that they have to get back to the campsite before their friends come looking for them.
He opens his eyes, surveying the damage. Both his and Jack’s pants are soaked in several places, and he can already smell the piss drying on their hands and clothes. “Jack,” he says, tapping Jack on the shoulder several times. “We can’t go back like this?”
“Huh?” Jack opens his eyes, looking down at himself until he snaps out of his haze. “Oh, shit! What are we gonna do?”
“I don’t know… Did you bring a jacket with you or anything?”
“I was kind of preoccupied,” Jack laughs nervously. “Hey, didn’t Henry say we were gonna be camping near a lake?”
Connor squints, wracking his brain for memories from earlier in the day. “Yeah, he did. Do you think we should-”
“Have a little swim before we get back and help the others unpack?” Jack finishes for him. “It couldn’t hurt to be a little late, right?”
“Right…” Connor trails off, picking at a wet spot on his jeans. “Hey, Jack… You aren’t weirded out or anything, are you? I didn’t do anything too far, right?”
“What? Oh, no!” Jack reaches out to touch Connor’s arm, meeting his gaze with a small smile. “It was great, Connor. What are you worrying about?”
“I just… I didn’t know you liked guys,” Connor admits, somewhat embarrassed. “If I’d known, I…”
“I didn’t know either,” Jack tells him, rubbing his arm gently. “But… I liked it. I liked today, even if it wasn’t the most conventional.”
“I liked today, too,” Connor says, his face heating up as Jack moves his hand into Connor’s own. Jack smiles at him kindly, squeezing once.
“Come on, then,” he says, tugging Connor towards the road. “Let’s go get cleaned up, before the others wonder where we’re at.”
“...Alright,” Connor agrees, smiling back softly. “Let’s go.” |
(Okay, I am really happy with how this turned out. Let me know what you think. I intend to continue this.)
Her heels tapped against the ground in a quick, rhythmic staccato as she hurried down the street to the waiting rideshare car. Dressed in a long, stylish black coat, she was a woman on a mission. More precisely, she was late. As the door opened, the coat parted slightly as she climbed in, revealing her six-inch heels and fishnet stockings, hinting at more beneath.
“Cuttin’ it close, eh Rei?” The cabbie’s soft voice sounded amused, though not unkindly. It belonged to a petite woman with a garishly pink pixie cut and black glasses.
Rei tossed her bag across the eat and closed the door with a huff, clicking her seatbelt into place as the car pulled away from the curb. “Well, at least it’s only the second time this week.” She briefly smiled at the disorganization that was her life. Her own voice was sonorous, inviting. In another life, she would’ve been a lounge singer, enticing crowds with lilting tones and heartfelt melodies. While she pretended the idea at karaoke on the weekends, Rei’s profession had her enticing crowds in an entirely different way. She was, in the evocative words of H.L. Mencken, an ecdysiast, a dancer who in her performance sheds her clothes. In more vulgar terms – an exotic dancer, a stripper. She rather liked the word ecdysiast, though she doubted Mencken would like her coffee-colored skin.
Below the coat, she wore one of her “uniforms”, a black lace onesie that hugged her curves and barely covered them. Normally, she wore something a little more public facing, but Rei had been late enough getting out the door that it made more sense to just wear her first outfit. It was chilly as all hell though, and it made her need to pee worse – the opportunity for the toilet another casualty of her timeliness… Or lack thereof. She pressed her legs together and bounced her knees a little bit. Taking her mind off the need, Rei looked up to the driver. “So how’s the night been, Cass?”
The pink-haired girl shrugged, deep red light from the augmented-reality frames on her glasses glinting backward. “Same as it ever is in our dystopian shithole of a city. Another day, another resume rejected. At least there were fewer assholes in the cab today.” Cass – Cassandra to strangers and Rei six months ago – was a recent university graduate, trying to find work in an increasingly automated and regulated city. Rei understood the frustration. It had been almost half a century since the pandemic that changed the world, but it felt like everything in the decades that followed just made things harder and more desperate for the people left picking up the pieces. She’d almost abandoned her master’s degree in sociology. Rei still participated in open research collectives but she’d long since given up applying for research or teaching positions. At least sex work was a recession-proof industry.
Their lives made an interesting reflection of the remade city that was Seattle: Boundless technology climbing up to the sky through the tech towers wreathed in nano-cloud advertisements. Desperate poverty amongst the low-lying brick buildings of past centuries sprawled across the city. And -interspersed between the glitz and grime – the same human hungers that always fuel us: Raucous nights and neon lights, sensual sights and intoxicant delights, a panoply of debauchery driven home in the booming bass of the cyberpunk waste.
Welcome to the Bio-Age, where custom genes and gilded screens lightly cover the festering wounds of a septic world that refused to heal from the wounds of the past century.
At least… That was Rei’s take on it, as they cruised through the rainy streets to her club, Sinner’s Sanctuary. In the post-pandemic world, a beautiful marriage of nanotechnology and microbiology resulted in the proliferation of cyborg nanoviruses. These half-organic, half-metal miracle machines worked to eradicate the threat of viruses like COVID-19 – along with Ebola, malaria, and other plagues of yesteryear. They were born from the last major push of world governments in concert with transnational corporations before the economic instability crippled the power of these states. Everyone – from the most virulent anti-vaccination religious nut to the poorest brown child in Africa to the wealthiest hedge fund CEO – received an injection that made us all a little bit like Frankenstein’s monster.
A dark, brimstone red and riotous unholy purple glowed against the windshield as Cass slowed up by the side door of the Rei’s Sanctuary. The dancer held herself briefly as her legs jiggled in the seat, her tightly toned ass anticipating the waiting embrace of the club’s toilets. On the sidewalk outside, the myriad homeless sat on the streets. One halfheartedly held a sign that read, almost playfully: “Will work for Wafers!” Another, more plaintive, simply said, “Silicon, please. Anything helps.”
The nanoviruses reshaped human DNA, rebuilding our immune systems and cellular biology from scratch. The result allowed people to easily adapt to viral and bacterial infection, all but erased the risk of cancer, and helped extend our lifespans by at least 20 to 30 years. It also rebuilt our gut bacteria so that we could adapt to our new steady dietary requirement of silicon, though ready access to that nutrient – as evidenced by the throngs of malnourished people on the streets unable to afford or acquire it – had not caught up to the demand. One of them, a younger woman, was openly gushing urine into the street, her thighs visible in the headlights of the car. Rei groaned in sympathy as a squirt of pee dampened her panties.
The dancer grabbed her duffel bag and hurriedly stepped out of the car, wishing Cass a safe night. Rain drizzled on her jacket, and the flash of cold did nothing to help her situation. Though she was only half a block from Sinner’s Sanctuary, making her way past the people was an agonizing slow process. The milling horde of nightlife denizens – club goers, washouts, office zombies, and so on – meandered down the sidewalk, oblivious to her growing need to piss. The Sanctuary itself rested on the second floor of an older, remodeled brick building. Below it, the popular nightclub Dante’s drew a regular crowd that fed into the strip club. Normally she would’ve been thrilled at the packed Thursday night crowd, but at the moment they represented nothing more than barriers to her goal. Her heels tapped frantically against the pavement as she made her way to the foyer.
The bouncer, a husky brute by the name of Daj, nodded at her as she slipped by the crowds, gently clearing the doorway with a wide swing of his arm. The building’s hallway was relatively quiet, being off limits to non-staff of the clubs, and she buzzed the elevator. In her first break of luck for the night, the doors immediately opened and she scrambled inside. The outside world closed with the metal doors, leaving her to the silence, the elevator’s muzak, and the tapping of her foot. She dropped her bag and immediately started undoing the buttons of her coat to grab herself.
Tap. Tap. Squeeeeze. The elevator was notoriously slow, even on the best of days. Like most things in Seattle these days, it looked pretty on the outside and hid decay and degradation just beneath the veneer. As the lift glacially rose, she took a brief moment to ensure she looked on point. Desperate as she was, she was also about to be on the clock – with all eyes on her.
She did look good. In the dim gold lights of the red-accented elevator, Rei’s flawless, coffee-colored skin glowed in the mirrored walls. Her native heritage gave her angular, severe features, softened by her black mother’s warmth and curves. Rei wore shiny black patent leather heels that melded into her fishnet leggings, leading up her muscular legs to the black lace leotard that cupped her body. Glittering violet makeup lent her an imposing countenance – but no maquillage could hide the mirth and mystery held in her eyes. She almost got lost in the feelings and thoughts roiling through the event horizon of her irises when the elevator shuddered to a stop on the second floor. Her pee surged against the walls of her bladder almost, making her grab herself to keep from losing control, and a soft ding signaled the opening of the doors and the return of low lights, bassy music, exposed flesh, and the Sinner’s Sanctuary.
“Hex! There you are!” The voice came from the club’s night manager, Joe. His graying, balding head held a sheen of sweat from the night’s various stresses. “Gimme your bag, yer on stage, now!”
“But I just got –“
“No buts! We’re down two girls and you spent your prep time bein’ late” He thrust his hand out and practically ripped Rei’s bag from her hands. Well…Not Rei right now. Here, in the club, she was Hex, known for putting a spell or two on the men who patronized the club.
Damn, she thought, I’ve gotta piss so bad. Joe practically yanked her toward the stage, waving to the DJ, who started fading in a grinding, slow song. It was one of her favorites and – under any other circumstances – her mind would have clicked into gear. Right now, though, her bladder strained against the tight leotard, and the glow on her skin was more sweat than perfection. Nonetheless, she was on.
This early in the night, it was still fairly dead. However, waiting for her at the rack was one of her regulars – Wright. With brown hair just beginning to turn silver, Wright was an academic-turned-techie, directing the programming guidelines of automated cars. Hex had spent months building a working relationship with Wright, and she did not want to fuck it up by humiliating herself in front of him.
The song began its slow build, beckoning her forth. The stage was empty save for Wright, his eyes drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. Joe was watching her too – but his eyes only saw the dollar signs her body made for the club. She took a step. Then another, and bit by bit she made her way to the pole, spraying it and wiping it down. Wright sat there, still as stone, his eyes burning holes into her. Normally she loved his look – loved the intensity behind those eyes and the intelligence it fed into. But right now… It just made her want to crawl into a hole and hide.
She planted her feet, bending over slowly at her waist as she’d done a thousand times before. Her thighs flexed with the effort of holding back her the flood in her bladder, the crevice between her ass leading to the pinpoint of pressure that held her secrets and her willpower.
Do not pee. Do NOT piss yourself.
Mind over matter. She could do this. She didn’t say anything to Wright – she didn’t need to. Their initial greeting was always silence and hungry eyes. He reached into his jacket and pulled two tens out, sliding them onto the glossy wooden floor of the stage. Their impassive government faces stared up at her body, acknowledging her physicality and presence. Their tacit message: Good evening.
And then the bass dropped, and her mind blanked as muscle memory and mastery took over. A twist and a swing, a crescendo and a drop. The music commanded and her body obeyed. Her arms splayed her glossy manicure as she climbed the pole. Slid down it, vulva peeking out from the edges of her leotard’s gusset. A squirt escaped her muscles, the urine wetting the insides of her thighs. She slammed her legs together, barely making it look fluid, desperately trying to hold on. Wright, oblivious, put another ten on the stage.
It was getting bad. As the music began to move toward her second song, another, longer squirt escaped her urethra. This time, droplets splattered the stage, glinting in the light. FUCK, she screamed in her head. Then a break, a pause as the music grooved into the second song. Vibrating with the effort of holding, she couldn’t help but grab herself. She couldn’t even pass it off as getting her outfit undone. She was truly at her limit. Thinking quickly, she slid to the floor, splaying her legs out toward Wright.
He put down a twenty, and made a slight motion with his hands, crooking a finger towards him, beckoning her like snake charmer. The look in his eyes brooked no disagreement. She slid her ass toward him, legs dangling over the edge of the stage, and slid her hair and head into his neck, purring slightly as she tried to sell sex with her tortured body.
“Are you okay?” It was a compassionate whisper, but it shocked her nonetheless, causing her vulva to release another second-long gush. Pee dampened the edge of the stage, dripping off.
He knew.
“I…I’m sorry.” She managed to croak out. Her hair dangled across his face. She smelled like dusk in summer.
“For what?” He was the perfect gentleman, one hand on his drink and the other at his side. No touching on stage.
“I really…Really have to pee.” Despite her desperate she found herself intoxicated by the closeness and intimacy of the encounter. For her, stripping was a job – but one she liked. She liked the sensuality. She liked the sexuality. She liked the closeness between her and her customers. And she really liked Wright. Outside of the club, she definitely would’ve tried to take him down. Inside, she loved the respect he gave her and her boundaries. He was more than into her… But he never pushed. Like an open doorway, he merely invited her in. And she entered, step-by-step. “I’m seriously about to piss myself on stage right now.”
His eyes bore into her, staring into her soul. What was he thinking? Was he judging me?
He pressed his head into her nuzzling body, and whispered: “If you can’t hold it, sit on my lap.”
Another shock. Another second-long gush. Liquid pushed at the edges of her leotard, immediately soaking up and dripping down her inner thigh. She inched her ass closer to the edge of the stage, the light hiding her impending accident. “What?”
“It’s dark under the rack. You can pee straddling me.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but she was too desperate to care. Pee was beginning to creep out freely. Her exhausted bladder was giving in, and Hex only had moments to spare. With a sigh, she slid off the stage onto his lap, the club’s lights showcasing her dark skin and glittering eyes.
Pee immediately poured out of her, flooding her leotard and hissing against the fabric, audible to her and Wright even above the beat of the music. Barely giving a pretense of a show, she ground herself against him as relief enveloped her. She could feel the hot gold soaking his black slacks. The friction felt good.
Really good. Almost against her will, she grabbed the stage, pushing her pelvis against his lap as piss poured out of her – through her fishnets and onesie. The wetness pressed against her clit and, combined with the sweetness of relief, produced an intense rush of pleasure. She rode him as she peed, pressing against his… She realized he was as hard as a rock, his cock pressing into his slacks. Yet still he sat almost perfectly motionless, staring at her. Into her. His eyes smoldered with heat.
Her fountain lasted for what seemed like forever – though it could only have been thirty seconds. Toward the end, it seemed like something in his eyes snapped, and – every so slightly – he moved his hips against hers. His hands remained away. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a strip club’s exchange always did. But as they moved together that break in sanity in his eyes traveled to her vulva and rang through her body like a bell. The orgasm shook her to her core, and she was ever so thankful for the ear-splitting decibels of the club’s sound system. The moment seemed to last forever. She wouldn’t have been mad.
Then the song began to wind down, and reality started to set back in. The rapidly cooling wetness coated her legs. But her accident, at least for this moment, had gone unnoticed. But she would need to move, and anxiety about the next moment flashed across her eyes. He saw it, and merely smiled slightly.
“Get up slowly,” he whispered. She did, and as she began to swing her leg over she somehow caught something – and then ice cold liquid coated them both.
“Damnit!” Wright exclaimed, as his drink glass bounced away on the carpet floor. His vodka and tonic coated them both, splashing the stage slightly. “Aw, hell!”
The commotion briefly attracted the attention of the nearby bouncer. But when he looked, all he saw was a clumsy dancer knocking over a customer’s drink. She apologized to Wright profusely, promising to buy him another drink. The theater worked perfectly, and as the song ended no one had figured out why a 12 ounce drink produced more than a liter of liquid. She collected his tips while he stood up, futilely trying to wipe away the liquid.
As she reached the edge of the stage, she looked back, catching his eye, and mouthed, “Thank you.” To him. She took a moment to collect herself in the dressing room, changing her outfit, before heading back out to properly thank him.
Yet he was gone. Joe handed her a business card from the club with Wright’s number on it and a message. It said:
Good for one free “drink” at a time and place of my choosing. See you next time, lady of the night. |
Sorry for too many stories, but I'll just trying new things. My first two attempts were first person, then I thought I should try third person perspective, which seems to have worked. Now I decided to try writing male desperation, so I just did it. Hopefully it's not too unrealistic.
*
Dave wasn't the kind of guy typically considered "hot". He was used to seeing popular girls pass him without acknowledging his existence - he didn't really care though. Who would want a superficial girlfriend? Yes, he wasn't born to play basketball, he was only 169 cm (~5"6,5 ft). Still above average for some countries. Dave was naturally skinny, too, but compensated it by working out a lot. So, knowing that he was not at all ugly with his muscular body and proportional face, he never hesitated to ask out girls taller than himself, of course if he liked their personalities.
Still, when he met Nora, a girl he matched with on Tinder, he was a bit intimidated by all 185 cm (~6 ft) of her gorgeous height. With her big boobs and butt, she looked... awe-inspiring. Also sexy, though. In her turn, she didn't look disappointed upon seeing him and seemed to have noticed the best parts of his body. Long story short, it worked well for both. They were having a lot of fun for a couple of weeks already. At first Nora couldn't but mock him a bit for looking so hilariously boastfully every time they went out together, but soon both got used to the situation.
Ever since they had sex for the first time, Dave just couldn't get enough of Nora. One morning, after a very eventful night, she suggested going to the movies together. "We can't just shag all the time, sweetie." Dave didn't actually think so, but a little action other than sex would be good to bind them together, so he agreed.
In the shower, Dave took a long pee, much awaited after having to constantly rehydrate all night. Then he let Nora have her turn in the shower, meanwhile re-heating the leftovers of yesterday's dinner for breakfast (luckily one of the things they had in common was being totally fine with it) and making a large cup of coffee for each. Having finished her coffee, Nora said "after such a sleepless night I need more," and poured herself another big cup. Dave didn't follow her example. Soon they were already in his car, driving to the mall.
When they bought tickets to the movie, there was about half an hour left before the beginning. They bummed around a little; Nora got herself a milkshake on the food court. Dave doubtfully did the same, but a smaller size. Honestly, his bladder was already full from that coffee. Well, he was aware he had kinda smallish bladder, but hated to attract attention to it. He didn't want to look even more like a kid, considering his constitution. So he got used to holding his pee for some extra time in social situations, and only going when others go. This time as well he was sure that they both would pay a visit to the WC before the movie, and didn't worry about his bladder condition, although it was worsening dreadfully fast.
Five minutes before the movie, Nora took the line to the counter with popcorn and soda. She bought the largest soda, remarking "popcorn makes me so thirsty!" with a chuckle. Dave said he didn't want anything, already frantic for a pee. Finally, on their way to the movie hall, they saw a bathroom... but Nora passed it without even giving it an eye. Dave stumbled a little. Nora turned back. "We have some more time, in case you..." "No, no," Dave replied hastily. They entered the hall.
"Oh... my... God..." was everything Dave's brain could come up with. Who could know this girl wouldn't need the bathroom?! How come she's not as desperate as him? Even more, considering the second cup of coffee and larger milkshake! She's also going to down a large soda! Is she planning to stand up during the movie and just head to the WC? Dave couldn't imagine her doing an illogical thing like that. Does she even use a toilet?!
Well, now he had nothing to do but take his seat. They took the back row. Normally it would get him excited, but now he could only think that this meant longer way to the exit. At least there were no people around them... When he sat, he almost screamed from the increase of pressure on his bladder. Even before the trailers finished, Dave knew he wouldn't be able to hold until the end of the movie. He had to go out of there... no, run out of there as soon as possible. But it would be ridiculous, after having said he didn't need the WC just seconds ago. He had to hold at least a little longer.
Soon he couldn't help fidgeting, squirming, crossing and uncrossing his legs, rubbing his knees, and trying every other preventing technique to give himself just a few more minutes. None of them worked though; he was about to make a puddle on his seat. Dave couldn't but wonder what's up with Nora. He watched her as intently as he could manage without losing control over his bladder, but there was not a single sign of desperation. Although she went heavy on her soda, she sat still and seemed genuinely absorbed into the film. (For the life of his, Dave wouldn't be able to tell what it was about.)
At some moment, Dave found a position in which he could feel a little better: he stretched his legs forward as far as he could without bothering people in front of him, and hovered his butt over the seat, thus giving his bladder some more space. Due to his trained muscles, he managed to stay in this position for quite long; still, at some point his body started aching. He had nothing left to do but sit back. The pressure got inhumane.
Dave was breathing heavily, wishing he was as far from his girlfriend as possible. But... there was another feeling he got. Apparently a bladder overfilled like this could be sort of arousing. He had no idea about it, because he hadn't actually been THAT full in his whole life. Surprisedly, he felt his cock getting harder and harder. He grabbed it through the thin fabric of his grey jeans. It felt good, actually. But it couldn't distract him from the crashing urge to release the ocean he was keeping inside. Suddenly he felt a spurt of pee escaping his bursting bladder. He squeezed his dick harder, but couldn't help it at that point: a wet patch was growing around the head.
That exact moment, Nora turned her head to him.
"Are you okay? Oh... What's this?" she whispered to his ear.
"What?"
"I can see a wet spot. Have you peed yourself?"
"No! I... You know, Nora... Sitting with you in the darkness like this... I got so aroused..."
"Oh, is it precum? So hot."
Nora stretched her arm and touched Dave's dick. It was rock hard from all the squashing Dave had been giving it. Seeming very content with what she found, Nora started massaging it - at first lightly, but soon she was already masturbating him full blast.
Dave was being torn between the worst bladder torture he ever experienced and that unbelievably good feeling Nora's hand was giving him. Her wrist was pressing against his swollen bladder, making the pressure unbearable, but in ever more sensual way.
"Aaah!"
With a moan, short but not really quiet, Dave came so hard he would never expect in this condition. Nora winked at him and... went on watching a movie.
Dave was still recovering from the afterglow when the feeling of his bladder muscles weakening rapidly hit him all at once. Oh no... He was peeing himself. With an immense effort, he stopped, but the front of his jeans was soaked. Dave gasped.
Nora turned to him.
"Dave... What the hell? You peed your pants!"
"Nora, I'm sorry. You didn't go to the bathroom, so I decided not to go either."
"Men!" Nora exclaimed as indignantly as she could keep in whisper. "Why do you always have to turn everything into a competition?"
"But you..."
"Look at me. With an ass like this, you could guess I can store a WAY bigger bladder, couldn't you?"
"Okay, stop it. I already know you're breaking up with me."
"Actually... Seeing you in wet pants is pretty arousing. So I don't think I'll break up with you at least while you owe me an orgasm."
"Do you mean..." Dave was out of words.
"What I mean is let's skip the rest of the film, go to your car and have some good time. Hide behind me. Hurry up, my knickers are almost as moist as yours now."
"Can we go to the bathroom first?" Dave implored. "I still really really REALLY need it."
"Sure. My bladder is in fact rather full, too."
"Rather," Dave thought. "What a fabulous girl. I seriously like her."
They were heading to the WC, Nora covering as much of Dave's accident as she could. Suddenly she stopped.
"Listen, Dave..."
"Oh please Nora, can it wait? I'll let out the rest in a second - into the toilet or my pants."
"Just asking. Can you do this for me again? Maybe not soon, just, you know, someday."
"You'll wait and see. Now excuse me!!!" |
It had been a long mission. Hana Song, or D.va as she was more commonly known, had been looking for ages. The Overwatch strike team consisting of D.va, Mercy, Phara, Zenyata, and Genji, were stationed in Paris.
They had received a tip of potential Talon agents in the area. So they were stuck patrolling the city streets for hours. "D.va! Activity to your right!" That was Phara talking over the comm line. She was hovering in the sky with Mercy and had the best view. "I'm on my way!" was D.va's reply.
________________________________________
"I'm on my way!"
"Be careful Hana", said Phara. From her position in the air, she and Mercy could see D.va's mech speeding down one of the streets of Paris.
"I'm worried about her" Mercy remarked.
"I agree" said Phara. "She is too eager to fight".
Phara and Mercy had been hovering in the air for hours and a small ache was developing in Phara's bladder. She had been on many missions and had faced this problem many times before. She would just hold it. She always did.
Unknown to Phara, Mercy was in a similar situation, though her need was much greater. She had needed to use the restroom even before the mission started. It was all she could do at this point not to hold herself and reveal her predicament to Phara. She would just have to hold it.
--------------------------------------------------------
Sombra was camped out in a small, abandoned cafe in downtown Paris. She had been watching the Overwatch agents for a long time now. She was waiting to use her deadly EMP, which would shut down all their weaponry. As she watched D.va's mech speed down the street she knew it was the right time. She uncloked, threw her arms wide and released her EMP. All the lights in the cafe went out. All technology near her had been shut down. Now she just had to find her targets. She loaded up her SMG and disappeared.
--------------------------------------------------------
As D.va was speeding down the street she was also preoccupied by something else. She had to pee. And quite badly for that matter. She was squeezing her legs as tightly as she could to prevent any leakage. As she was contemplating her need she was interrupted by a flash of purple. Suddenly, her mech displayed a flashing message and she was ejected. As Hana landed on her feet she felt a little bit of pee slip out into her panties she quickly grabbed her crotch with one hand.
"Hahaha! Does someone need a bathroom break?"
Hana spun around but couldn't find the source of the laughter. She did recognize the voice though.
Sombra! She thought. I'm in trouble now!
The Talon hacker had a reputation of being ruthless. Worse than that she could turn invisible at will.
This knowledge didn't help D.va's need. Another leak shot into her pants. She looked down and saw a small wet spot on her jumpsuit. She didn't know if she could hold it for much longer.
Out of nowhere a gun barrel was pressed against D.va's head.
"Hello little girl" said Sombra.
The immediate threat of death was too much for Hana. She was terrified!
Her bladder quickly started to relive itself. It started with a small trickle that turned into a full-on torrent of piss. She felt the pee soaking her crotch and running down her legs. Huge stains grew down both thighs as urine dripped onto the ground creating a large puddle.
"Looks like someone had an accident" said Sombra.
Suddenly, Genji appeared in front of them jumping from the roof of a near by building. He threw a volly of shurikens at thr hacker. Sombra panicked and disappeared using her translocater. D va was happy to see a smaller puddle that Sombra had left behind.
"Are you all right?" said Genji.
"Yeah I'm fine" D.va replied. "Lets find the others"
--------------------------------------------------------
Phara's need had gotten worse. She had already leaked twice and wasn't sure if she could hold it for the rest of the mission. Mercy was in a similar situation. She was holding her staff with one hand and her crotch in the other. She was completely desperate and on the verge of an accident.
These thoughts were interruptedblby a buzz and a flash of purple. Immediately, she dropped out of the air going into freefall. Her vallkary suit had stopped working. She could see Phara also plummeting towards the ground. As soon as Mercy started falling her bladder released. Pee started pouring into her red leggings. Due to the fact that she was falling, the piss wasn't confined to its normal patterns. It flew every which way wetting her legs, pelvic area, and ass in equal parts. Mercy landed in a wet heap in one of two twin dumpsters, her fall broken by this weeks trash. Still it hurt like hell. Mercy's moral was not helped by her soaked pants and underwear. This was going to be hard to explain.
Phara was also having difficulties. Her jetpack had stopped working as well, and she had dropped with Mercy. Unlike Mercy, she was used to falling from the sky. Because of this she didn't immediately wet her pants like her companion. Phara landed hard in the dumpster next to Mercy. She felt a sharp pain in her leg and screamed.
"Are you okay?!" yelled Mercy.
"I think my leg is broken", was Phara's response. "How about you?"
"I'm alright, if a bit wet" said Mercy.
Eventually the two women got themselves out of the dumpsters. Phara saw Mercy's very obvious accident but was nice enough not to say anything. The two started walking to find the rest of their team. This was slow going however, as Mercy had to support Phara due to her broken leg. All this time Phara's desperation was building.
"Mercy?" Phara said.
"Yeah?" she replied.
"I have to use the restroom" said Phara.
"Oh! How bad?" Mercy said.
As Phara was about to respond another leak shot out and she crossed her legs.
"Oh" Mercy said. "I guess it's bad. How long can you hold it?"
"Not long" Phara said blushing. "Lets hurry."
Not ten minutes later and the pair had made almost no progress. Suddenly, Phara stopped.
"Mercy. I'm peeing" Phara said.
It was true. Pee had started to leave her bladder and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't stop it. It ran down her legs and around her butt as she bent over. Fortunately her armor contained most of the accident. Although she could still feel everything. A few drops leaked out of the suit and created a small puddle underneath her legs.
Mercy said nothing. She had been in these situations many times before as a combat medic. She knew that nothing she said would help Phara's embarrassment.
The two continued their walk to the ship in silence. |
Hey everyone! This is one of my first stories on this site. I have been on this site for a while and just recently decided to give writing a try. As a new writer I want to improve as much as possible, so I would love to hear your feedback. Hope you like it!
(P.S. The final chapter contains a small amount of messing. I know not everyone likes that kind of thing)
Chapter 1:
Ava was captain of the field hockey team at Bloominfield High School. She was tall, and athletic with black hair and brown eyes she had small breasts but a large butt that made up for it. She was considered by some to be the hottest girl in the school. It was her senior year and she was looking forward to it. Her best friends Molly and Kathrine were also a part of the team. They had been friend for as long as anyone could remember and they did everything together. Molly was around 5' 2" and blond with pretty blue eyes and very large assets. Katherine was a little taller at 5' 4", also blond and with perky breasts and an average sized butt.
It was their first match of the season against Elmsdale High, a school 3 hours away by bus. As the girls loaded onto the bus Ava looked around her their were 13 girls on the team including Ava, Katherine, and Molly. There were only three other seniors on the team. One of the other seniors, named Celia, was just now getting on the bus. Celia was 5' 3" with brown hair and had a tiny butt. She had green eyes and nice breasts. Scanning the bus, Ava located the other seniors. Alicia sat toward the back and was listening to music on her phone, her black hair spilling over her shoulders. She was nicely tanned after working as a lifeguard over the summer. Alicia was the only openly lesbian girl in the school. Next to her was the last senior on the team. Her name was Eliza.
Eliza was a shy girl. She almost never talked to anyone and had never made friends easily. She was taller than average at 5' 8" and as thin as a rail. Her dirty blond hair matched nicely with her bright blue eyes. Her almost non-existent boobs were counteracted by a nicely sized ass.
As the bus pulled out onto the road Ava felt a small twinge in her bladder. She ignored it though and continued to talk to Molly and Katherine about normal things like boys and school. She had no idea how crazy this day was going to get.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2:
The bus pulled into the Elmsdale parking lot. Ava's need had increased slightly but it was still manageable. I'll just go when we get to the field, she thought. As the girl walked toward the field, Ava's need was reciprocated by some of the other girls Celia included.
"Can I use the bathroom?" Celia asked their coach. "Sorry girls there are no bathroom here" the Coach responded. "Apparently they are doing renovations."
Celia groaned and Ava's face whitened in horror. She didn't know if she could hold it all throughout the game and the bus ride home. But she didn't have a choice. she would just have to hold it no matter what.
Next to Ava, Katherine said something under her breath. "What?" Molly asked. "Nothing" came the reply. I just kind have to pee".
Ava felt a little bit better that someone else shared her predicament. The girls were all dressed in the school uniform, a purple jersey with the school logo on it and grey leggings on the bottom. The team went through their warm ups quickly and jumped into the game shortly after. It was a good game. It was so intense Ava forgot her need to pee entirely. it came right down to the wire with each team trading goals. the game was finally won when Alicia scored a goal in the final minute putting the score at 5-4 in Bloominfield's favor. The girls celebrated on the sideline before shaking hand with their opponents and heading back to the bus.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 3:
As the girls clambered back onto the bus, Eliza started to worry. She needed to use the bathroom. And badly. She sat in the middle of the bus on a seat by herself. As soon as Eliza sat down she put a hand in her crotch. She had been confident she would make before but now, wasn't so sure. the last time she could remember having an accident was in 3rd grade. It had been embarrassing then she thought. Think of how bad it would be now. Eliza settled in. It was going to be a long drive.
One hour had passed and Eliza was on the verge of panic. She had both hands jammed into her crotch and her legs tightly crossed. She was sweating with the effort of holding in her pee. It had gotten bad in a matter of minutes. Eliza now knew she couldn't wait for the remaining two hours. She was going to pee soon wether she wanted to or not. Think Liza she thought. What can I do? Suddenly an idea came to her. She could just ask the coach to stop the bus! As if it had heard her thoughts, Eliza's bladder spasmed sending a couple drops of pee into her underwear.
She needed to do something quick or she would defiantly pee herself. She revisited the idea of asking for a stop, but quickly dismissed it. She was too shy to reveal her desperation to the entire bus. Plan B then she thought, and looked around desperately. As Eliza searched for something to help her predicament, a bottle, or container, or something her bladder took matters into its own hands. she leaked again as if to send a warning shot. Eliza's hand immediately returned to their original resting place between her legs. This was it. She knew there was no time left to try anything and tried to accept her fate. with a whimper and a muttered, "Oh no" Eliza's bladder released. A trickle found its way out, then a squirt, then it was over. Her pee quickly shot into her pants, overwhelming her panties and starting on her grey leggings. The piss pooled around Eliza's thighs and her ass in a large puddle and started slowly dripping over the seat.
Luckily for Eliza, she was sitting in a seat by herself. Nobody cold see her accident. Not for now at least. Working quickly, Eliza grabbed a sweatshirt from her bag and stated to soak up the drips. that was one problem solved. The larger problem was that she was still sitting in a pool of her own piss. There was no way to clean it up. Eliza resigned herself to a very uncomfortable ride.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 4:
Molly and Katherine were sitting in a seat together. They were watching a movie on Molly's phone. Or rather Molly was watching a movie. Katherine was trying not to pee herself. She had need to go since before the game and was now completely desperate. She was trying to hold herself without Molly noticing, which was not that difficult as Molly was completely engrossed in the movie. They were watching Friday the 13th, which isn't the best movie to watch with a full bladder.
This isn't to say that Molly didn't have to pee either. In fact she was also quite desperate, though not nearly as bad as Katherine. She knew she could make it home if things went smoothly. At this point in her life Molly had watched so many horror movies she was practically desensitized to their terrors. She looked across at her friend. "Kat, are you even watching?" she asked. "Hm..? Oh sorry" came the reply. "I kinda zoned out". "Come on!"Molly said. "This is a good one!"
"Fine" said Katherine. It would be nice to take her mind off her bladder even just for a little bit. Unfortunately for Kat she had forgotten the kind of movie she was watching. As soon as she looked at the screen, a masked killer jumped out of the shadows. Katherine screamed in fright. Thoughts of her bladder instantly left her mind. Her first thought was to run before she remembered she was just watching a movie. As she got control of her senses back she felt a warm sensation in her crotch area. She looked down and saw a rapidly expanding dark spot on the front of her leggings.
She finally put two and two together and realized she was peeing herself. "Shit!" she yelled as she tried to regain control of her bladder. But it was already too late once her bladder had started emptying itself it wasn't going to stop. All Katherine could do was stare in horror as she pissed herself. The pee branched out over her thighs turning the material a dark grey.
Molly, startled by Katherine's scream, turned to she her friend actively having an accident. The sight was so ridiculous she burst into a fit of laughter. " Oh my god! You just wet your pants!" and sayings of the sort were mixed between giggles and snorts. The irony of the situation was that as Molly was laughing at her friends predicament she also started to lose control of her bodily functions. She could feel her hold on her bladder slipping. All of a sudden her grip was gone altogether. Molly's bladder released creating a river in her pants. As the pee quickly saturated her thong and moved onto her leggings all she could do was laugh. The piss she had been so confident she could hold was pouring down her legs working its way to the back of her thighs and past her knees.
At this point she had well and truly wet herself. Most of the bus was staring as a combination of Molly's laughter and Katherine's screams proved quite distracting. Katherine looked at her friend cockily and said with a smile: "Who's laughing now?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 5:
Alicia, sitting in the back of the bus was reassured by Molly and Katherine's accidents. At least she would not be the only one if things went wrong. Alicia was one of the teams star players , and because of this had played the whole game. She had drank her entire water bottle , refilled it and drained it again. This was a mistake. Alicia had a long history of bladder problems. When she was young her parents thought it was nothing. Just what kids do. But as Alicia grew older and continued to have accidents, they wondered if there was a problem. They had gotten her tested for incontinence, but the doctor had said that she just had a weak bladder.
Nowadays Alicia was more careful. She hadn't had an accident in over three years. Now that streak might be in danger. Alicia had needed to pee since the middle of the game. She had thought she was going to pee herself an hour ago. Yet somehow she held on. This was soon to change. Alicia could feel pressure building and knew any minute now could be disaster time. To make matters worse, if Alicia did indeed wet her pants, it would all be obvious to Celia sitting across the aisle .
Alicia had been looking at Celia for a long time. The girl was beautiful. As the only open lesbian at Bloomnfield, she had never been in a serious relationship. As Alicia stared Celia looked at her and gave a quick wave and a smile. Alicia returned it. Her bladder ached reminding her of her current situation. It was almost as if Celia was cheering for Alicia to hold it. That's stupid Alicia thought thats not true.
Alicia was right. Celia was not cheering for her to hold it. She was actually hoping desperately for the opposite. Celia has had this particular fetish for a long time. Ever since she was thirteen she had loved peeing herself. Not in public of course, but right before she got into the shower or when nobody was home. These wettings usually were followed by some other activities that had also felt incredible.
That wasn't Celia's only secret though. She was still in the closet. Like Alicia, Celia had never been interested in guys. She had never told anyone about her sexuality, not even her parents. Sh was scared people would treat her differently. Distracting her from these lovely thoughts was her own bladder. While observing Alicia's desperation she had become desperate herself. She just hoped she could make it to a private place and let everything out.
Alicia was also thinking about peeing herself, though not for pleasure. She had already leaked twice and there was a small stain on her leggings, which she covered with her hands. Fortunately, the bus was entering town. There was only ten to fifteen minutes left on the ride. She was starting to think she might just make it.
"Girls we ran into some traffic. We could be here a while" Coaches voice echoed down the bus. Just like that all hope at least semi-dry pants left Alicia's mind. In the same instant her bladder seemed to agree. It spasmed one final time before letting go completely. The urine she had so desperately been trying to hold spilled out of her like a hose. She leaned her head back and gave in. The warm pee spread across the whole seat pooling around her ass. Dark stains appeared on her legs as she had her first accident in years. The sensation of the warm piss on her body reminded her of her previous accidents.
Alicia felt like a kid. What would Celia think of her now?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 6:
Celia saw Alicia's head lean back and her eyes closed and waited with bated breath. As the dark stain spread across the other girls legs, Celia felt like jumping for joy. She sat transfixed as her dreams came true before her eyes. It was the hottest thing she had ever witnessed.
Her body moved of its own accord. One minute she was sitting across from Alicia, and the next she was on top of her. Alicia looked up in confusion before Celia's lips pressed into hers. She was shocked fro a second. This was like a dream come true for Alicia. She stopped hesitating and kissed back with force. Alicia laid back on the bus seat and pulled Celia down on top of her. Alicia's back immediately got wet and she realized she had just laid down in her own piss. She didn't care though.
Their bodies writhed together, moving to a beat only they could hear. Celia was in heaven. She didn't care about her bladder anymore and released her pee spilling out of her alike a faucet. Because she was laying down, the pee soaked the front of her legging turning the top of her thighs and pelvic area to a deep shade of grey. The pee was the cherry on top of the cake. She had never felt better in her life.
As the tops of Alicia's legs grew warm she wondered if she was wetting her pants for the second time. Soon she realized it was Celia peeing herself! For some reason Alicia didn't mind it. It might actually felt good. As the two girls continued to rub their bodies together Celia felt another kind of pressure building in her lower body. As they were kissing, Alicia started to touch Celia's crotch. Celia gasped and grabbed Alicia. She had never felt this way before.
As Alicia continued to rub Celia through her leggings, the pressure grew until Celia climaxed. An orgasm ripped through her body as she let out a quiet moan. For the second time that day, fluid shot out of Celia's body going straight into her leggings.
After a second of rest, it was Alicia's turn. Celia firmly planted her hand on Alicia's vagina and began to rub as fast as possible. The friction of the leggings against Alicia's pussy caused her to groan. After a minute of passionate kissing and intense rubbing, Alicia couldn't contain herself. She came hard groaning into Celia's lips. The two girl lay there together for a while until the bus began to move.
Then Celia got up and returned to her seat, her leggings stained by a mix of bodily fluids. Alicia looked over at Celia and the two shared a secret smile. Alicia was covered nearly head to toe in piss, Celia's and her own. The two girls had just had the best time of their lives and none were the wiser.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 7 (Contains Messing):
After almost an hours delay, the bus pulled up to Bloomdfeild and the girls got out. Five of them were going to have to explain to their parents why their legging were drenched. But not Ava. Against all odds, Ava had kept her pants dry so far. Unlike the other girls, Ava lived near the school and was going to walk home. As she started the journey, she wondered if She would make it to her house in time.
I've made it this far! I'm so close! she thought. It was a five minute walk, but Ava was going considerably slower than normal due to her aching bladder. She waddled down the streets of the quiet town, hands pressed firmly between her thighs. It was a little past 11:30 and Ava knew her parents would be asleep already. This ment that even if she did piss herself they might not ever know.
As Ava turned onto her street she felt her bladder about to release. " Not yet!" she yelled. She could see her house! She was so close! As the first drops of pee found their way into her panties, she started to run. It was no longer a matter of keeping her pants dry, and was more a matter of getting less wet. As she tore down the sidewalk and up the porch, Ava knew it was no good. She pulled open the front door and stood in the dark hallway.
The piss was running down her legs in streams creating trails of wetness down her legs. Her ass had not escaped as she could feel the warmth on her rear. I just wet myself she thought in dismay. Even though nobody was there to witness her accident, she was ashamed none the less. As she looked down at the mess she had just made, a second urge hit her like a truck.
Before she could make a mad dash to the bathroom, her bowels released. She farted once, then stood in shock as a log of solid mess found its way into her panties. Ava started to walk upstairs. In her bedroom she looked at herself in the mirror. Her leggings were drenched in her piss and turning around she could see that she had indeed shit herself as well. Her ass was soaked and in addition, her leggings had stretched out to accommodate her second accident.
Ava undressed and threw her leggings and panties into the trash. She cleaned herself up and jumped into bed. It had been a long day. |
Woohoo! Another one from me! This one follows Chloe's friend Amber. Not sure what I'll do after this, but I'll figure something out. Toodles!
*****
It was a friday and the dark-skinned 26 year old beauty that was Amber sat at the reception desk in her white blouse, wrapping nicely around her sizeable breasts, and light grey jeans and normally-sized high heels. She wasn't even supposed to sit anywhere else. It was her job to sit here in the office's lobby, but right now she wished she was sitting elsewhere.
She wished for many things right now. She wished her shift would end sooner, she wished her tight jeans would loosen up and she wished the dull ache in her bladder would stop bothering her so much. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn't help but acknowledge that she hadn't emptied herself in 3 and a half hours.
It all started at lunch - the last time she emptied herself. Stepping out on lunch break with Chloe, she drank a cup of coffee as well as a soda. When it was over, Amber returned to her post. After 2 hours she felt a need to pee start to creep up on her. After waiting for a good time to leave, she went off to the toilet, only to be met with an "out of order" sign and various sounds of old tools and repairmen comming from behind the door.
"Aw fuck." She said silently to herself, pushing her thighs together. Knowing that she couldn't relieve herself now almost made her bladder shrink.
She totally forgot. Managment had told her that at 2 o'clock they'd call in repairmen to install a new toilet seat and sink. That was a good thing, as the previous ones looked to be older than Amber herself. Still dissapointed, she returned to her desk, resuming her work and craddling her filling bladder.
And that's why she is where she is. Holding 3 and a half hours worth of urine in her bladder. Maybe not long for others, but certainly for Amber. It's not that her bladder was small or anything. Quite the opposite. It could hold a lot of liquid. The problem was that it was just so weak. It'd been that way ever since school. She would often have to dash to the little girl's room during breaks.
The lobby was mostly empty, but Amber knew there were cameras around and didn't want her desperate squirming to get archived in the security records. She resorted to just tightly crossing her legs under the reception desk.
"Oh thank fuck." She sighed out looking at the time.
Her shift ended in 10 minutes, something that she was very thankful for. If she had more time, then maybe she'd look for a toilet elsewhere, but she didn't really know where they were. She may have been working here for 5 months, but her duties rarely recquired her to venture too far from her desk. She knew of the closest toilet (the one out of order) and a few others further on the floor. She'd gladly dash to them as soon as she was free to go, but there was another problem: she had to catch her train home.
The cute receptionist would have to endure a little while longer. At least until she gets to the station. It wasn't far. Only about a 10 minute walk. She could use the toilets before she got on her train. She imagined how magnificent it would feel. To undo her belt, unbutton those tight jeans, slide them down, revealing her round butt and the black lace panties she'd chosen for today. Slide them down her thick thighs, sit on the toilet seat and let out a hot stream that had been boiling inside her for far longer than she'd like.
"Oh nonono."
She was snapped out of reality when a strong wave hit her. She uncrossed her legs under the desk and tightly squeezed her crotch. She pushed her legs together and rubbed them against each other, almost crushing her hand with the force of her thighs. The wave soon stopped and she was still dry.
She glanced at the clock. It was "time to get the fuck out" o'clock.
She retracted her hand and slowly rose from her seat. The added gravity did not help, but she soon adjusted. She quickly hobbled to the closest staff room, passing the toilet and still hearing repairmen hard at work. Bobbing up and down she put on her windbreaker jacket, put her purse on her shoulder and stepped out into the street.
It wasn't too cold outside so luckily her bladder didn't have to worry about a big change in temperature. After finding a pace at which she could balance speed and the sloshing ball of piss inside her, she went on to the station. It helped that she'd also changed into much comfortable sneakers, leaving her high heels in the staff room for the next day of work. Lucky for her, there were no obstacles on the way to the station.
"Come on girl, almost there. Almost, oh for..."
As the station came into view, she remembered that she'd have to take the stairs down. With the resolve of a warrior, Amber didn't dare stop and pressed onward. Only slightly slowing her pace, she marched down the stairs into the underground station. Her bladder had been relatively easy to handle so far. Maybe she just overreacted after the office toilet became out of use. Besides that, the statoin toilets came into view and...
Amber halted.
"Oh you can not be serious."
A line of about four other women was stretching out of the women's toilet with who knows how many inside. Amber would have waited. She gladly would have. She absolutely could hold it long enough for all the other women to finish. Hell, she could easily hold it long enough to find another batnroom... but the train wouldn't wait for her.
"Fuck fuck fUCK!" she thought, annoyed.
Amber was totally wrong. She hadn't overreacted earlier. Her bladder was full of hot piss that BEGGED to get out. Now that this toilet was out of reach as well, her bladder ached severely once more. She bent forward, causing her panties to get pushed out against the grey denim over her voluptuous rear, knocked her knees together and began bouncing on the spot. Her left hand even shot between her legs. The station was busy so not many people noticed the beautiful woman breaking down in a potty dance.
It was like school all over again. She felt like a little girl upon seeing a huge line at the girl's toilet after she'd been holding her pee in for hours and she knew well what that could bring to.
She had no time to dwell on school memories though. Her train was leaving soon. She hobbled to the nearest ticket machine, made her purchase, went through the revolving gates and onto her platform.
Amber arrived at the same time as the train. She was so glad for that as she couldn't imagine how torturous it'd be to wait for it. She purpossely got on last so she'd be closest to the door. She wanted to be the first off to run to the nearest toilet. If she could hold it in long enough to still need the toilet by then.
The ride was 20 minutes. The train was rather crowded. It was normal. A lot of people got off work at this time. Amber was glad of it. It was rather noisy so the swishing of her windbreaker, caused by her squirming, passed unnoticed. She kept shuffling her legs and stepping on the spot. She just couldn't stand still! She knew that it would mean very wet pants, if she did.
10 minutes in. Halfway there. Amber was as desperate as ever. She couldn't believe how much she needed to pee. Running out of options, she scooted closer to the pole near the door and pressed her crotch against it. It offered so much help, giving Amber's exhausted lips a moment of ease. She wrapped her leg around it and pressed herself harder against it. She looked like a pole-dancer ready to bust out some moves. The only thing that was busting was her bladder out of her pants.
She pressed herself against the pole harder, but after a sharp jolt and a spurt of pee found out that this move was no good now. She gasped from the small dribble escaping her. Plunging her hands between her legs, she looked down. She noticed her bladder bulging against the waistband of her jeans. Pressing against the pole meant pressing it into her bladder. She was on her own again.
5 more minutes. She could do it. There was now only one hand between her legs. She noticed that the previous leak made her panties wet. It felt horrible. She wanted to let it all out now. After hearing this subconcious thought, her bladder pushed out another longer leak.
"Eep!" Amber yelped.
Her whole crotch felt warm now. She was scared to look down, but she did. Her heart sank. There was a dark wet patch on her grey jeans. About the size of a coin, but she knew it could get way bigger very soon.
Her thighs were viciously rubbing against each other. She was sweating and breathing heavily. She was gripping her pussy with strength never before seen by human eyes. She was so close to wetting herself.
"FUCK! I have to piss so badly."
She was so engaged in the battle against her bladder that she didn't even realize the train pulling into her station. She made it.
"Oh fuck. Oh yes. Please let me finally peee!!!"
The doors opened. There was nothing else she could do other than RUN. As soon as she could fit through them, she bolted to the nearest toilet. Her left hand was still planted between her legs while her right hand was getting her belt open. She could feel her bladder let out more and more drops of pee. She was almost grunting with every step she took.
She rounded the corner. And saw the Ladies' room. No line out the door. Finally.
"Oh Fuck yes, I-I made it."
She dashed in, but was met with a line of three other women who all looked at the woman who'd just thrown herself into the Ladies' room. One of them was just about to go into the only free stall.
Amber stood shaking in place, her thighs vigurously rubbing against each other, her hand firmly against her pussy with a slowly growing wet patch behind it about the size of a tennis ball for now. The strain on her womanhood was unbelievable. With tears in her eyes and a shaking voice she asked: "M-may I... I please cu-ut in line... p-please?"
"Of course." The woman in front said without hesitation, stepping away from the stall.
"Ohmygodthankyousomuch!" Amber blurted out as she threw herself into the stall. As soon as she was in, her bladder began letting it all out. Her pants grew darker, but in the fraction of a second, Amber locked the door, tore down her pants and panties and collapsed onto the toilet seat.
Amber BLASTED all of her pent up piss into the toilet in what may have been the most relieving moment of her entire life. Approximately 4 hours worth of pee crashed into the bowl below. The bulge in her abdomen slowly deflated. Her pussy burned. The force of her stream was so huge that it splashed and got all over Amber's butt.
"Haaaaaah..." She let out a relieved sigh so long that she must've emptied her entire lungs out. She made it. Against all odds, she made it.
Kind of.
Halfway empty and a little light-headed, Amber looked down at her clothes. She saw exactly what she expected to see. Wetness. Her black lace panties were completely soaked and still dripping warm pee. Her grey jeans had suffered quite the damage as well. She'll see how much once she pulls them back on.
After a near minute of peeing, Amber was empty. She wiped herself, shuddering as she stroked over her now sensitive pussy, not that the wipe mattered much. Her panties were wet anyway. She tried to dry them and her jeans off with toilet paper, but that only stopped them from dripping on the floor.
She got up from the seat. Her knees were trembling. She leaned down and grabbed her pants and panties, pulling them over her thick thighs and voloptuous behind. She checked her pants. Yep, also wet. There was a huge dark circle on the front that had started to crawl down the insides of her thighs. It seemed like her butt was less wet, but there was still a noticeable wet patch over her rear.
Tightening her belt back up, she left the stall. The women were still there and they looked down at Amber's wet crotch.
"Oh," said the woman who let Amber go first,"Are you alright?"
"Eh, don't worry," Amber said with a smile, "Accidents happen. Thank you for letting me go first and sorry for the fuss."
"No problem." The woman said with a smile, as she went past Amber into the stall.
Amber went to the sink to wash her hands. She observed her wet pants in the mirror. Because of the grey denim, the wet patch was incredibly noticeable. Still, there was nothing she could do now.
"It is what it is. At least I didn't wet myself completely." she thought. Looking stunning like always, Amber stepped back out of the Ladies' room and continued on her way home like nothing happened.
********
"And that's the time I almost totally wet myself like a little girl!" Amber said, sipping her coffee amidst the surrounding chatter of the café.
"Woah," Chloe said, "Talk about a close call."
"I know. I'm so lucky that woman was nice enough to let me go first though. If not for her, I would've pissed all over the toilet floor."
"Wow. How was the way home?"
"Fine. Some people looked, but that's only natural."
"I bet people thought it was hot." Chloe said, sipping her coffee and crossing her legs.
"I dunno," Amber shrugged, "But it felt SO good to let it all go. Almost worth the pain. Almost."
They sat there, continuing to sip their coffees. It was their lunch break and they'd soon have to go back to work. However, Amber still wanted to do something.
"Now then Chloe," she said, finishing her coffee, "Why don't you tell me how yesterday went for you?" A devilish smirk grew on Amber's face.
Chloe looked at her. After a second she downed the rest of her coffee and put the cup next to Amber's.
"Well... not much better than your incident." she said playfully.
"I'm all ears." Amber said, leaning in closer as Chloe began her tale. |
I wrote one other story before, but I'm relatively new to writing. Let me know if there is something I can improve. Should I write a second chapter? any ideas for a second chapter?
Lisa was ecstatic, not only was she a contestant on the favorite show, The Bachelor, but she believed she had what it takes to win it all. Her strategy to win Andy’s heart was for him to fall in love with her sweet and funny personality. To do that, she had to spend time with him, and to spend time with him, she had to catch his eye first. Lisa planned to look her best for the show. She was 5’8 with big brown eyes, slightly curly brown hair that fell just above her shoulders. She was thin, but still shapely with a rounded toned butt , flat abs and medium sized breasts. The wardrobe she brought with her on the show was designed to show off her abs and butt. Her dresses were all curve hugging, a ton of crop tops, tight jeans, yoga pants and booty shorts.
She was stuck with the wardrobe she had. The way the show worked was that all the girls lived in the same mansion, to avoid learning about the show from the outside world, the producers took their phones and didn’t permit them to leave until they were kicked off the show.
Alright girls! It’s time to get on the bus!
The shout came from Erin, one of the producers on the show. She was dressed professionally in a black blazer, t-shirt and jeans. She was pretty in her own right, mid 30’s with long brown straight her, slightly on the heavier side, but definitely not overweight with piercing green eyes.
Erin : Okay, everyone I have a letter here from Andy. “I need a girl that knows how to have fun! So let’s explore the state fair!” So, Andy is inviting the next three girls to join him on a group date to the carnival.
Amber
Lisa instantly shot Amber a dirty look, if anyone was her rival in the house it was definitely her. She was beautiful with blue eyes, pale skin, long blonde hair flowing past her shoulders and legs for days. The problem, she was condescending, arrogant, two-faced, and downright means to anyone in her way, and Lisa was concerned Andy was falling for her B.S.
Erin : Megan
Lisa beamed when she heard her name. Megan was her best friend in the house, and if anyone else were to win it, Lisa hoped it would be Megan. She was on the thinner side but still toned and gorgeous. She had adorable freckles and long wavy red that would make any guy do a double take.
Erin : and finally, Lisa
Yes! Lisa pumped her fist in the air. She only had one conversation with Andy before this. He was sweet and they talked about their history, how Lisa worked as a high-end real estate agent and was still really close with her family, and Andy’s job running his own advertising company in L.A. and how he was never able to find the right girl. This was her chance to get closer and more intimate with him, she just had to find the right outfit to catch her eye.
It was a carnival, so no cocktail dress obviously, but she still had to look sexy. She settled for a white top that showed a hint of cleavage of her C-cup breasts, and only went down to her belly button exposing her abs. She also put on a light pink thong, so she didn’t show any panty lines for her high-waisted, light blue skin-tight jeans that curved her rounded ass.
Lisa : Oh my god, Megan I’m so excited! I can’t believe we got choosen, I was getting worried I wasn’t going to get any time with Andy before the rose ceremony.
Megan : I know, I was so excited when your name was called… but just so you know, I’m coming away with the first impression rose tonight.
Lisa : oh yeah, we’ll see about that!
Both girls laughed and got on the van with Megan and the camera crew.
Erin : alright girls, so it’s about an hour drive. When we get there Andy will spend some time with you as a group, and then ask you to each split off for a mini side date. Don’t worry, we promise you’ll all get enough camera time today.
Lisa felt a twinge in her bladder
Lisa : umm excuse me, before we get going, can I just use the bathroom quick.
Erin : I’m sorry, we’re already running a little behind schedule, you’ll just have to wait until we get there.
Lisa has always been shy, and didn’t want to press the issue and just decided to sit next to her friend Megan and pee when they got there.
Unknown to Lisa, one of the reasons the producers choose her for the show, was not just because of her gorgeous looks, but because during her audition she admitted that she suffers from an overactive bladder, and they planned to exploit her embarrassment for some grade A television.
Megan : you’re awfully quiet Lisa, nervous for the group date.
Lisa : oh sorry, I’m actually feeling pretty confident…. To tell the truth I just kind of need to pee.
Lisa then crossed her long leg over the other tight and shuffled her tight little butt in her seat and gave a cute little giggle.
Amber overheard the two girls talking and turned to look at them
Amber : Just so you know, I heard Andy likes girls with a bladder of steel
Lisa : No one was talking to you Amber
Amber : lighten up, I was just kidding around, you are soo sensitive sometimes
Lisa just did her best to ignore her, placed her hands in her lap and started bobbing her leg up and down… hoping they get there soon.
Lisa beamed when she saw Andy waiting for the girls at the entrance of the state fair. She jumped up from her seat, and immediately remembered her bladder when she did. It was at the point where it was hard for her not to constantly fidget and wiggle around. Amber ran up to Andy first and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. Lisa noticed Andy rested his hand on the top of Amber’s butt when they hugged and she instantly got jealous. She’ll get to that point with him though, she just needs more time.
Before they started filming the group date Lisa whispered to the producer Erin’s ear
Lisa: Hey I could reaaaally use a bathroom before we get started.
Crossing one leg in front of the other as she said it.
Erin wanted to try to exploit the situation as much as possible
Erin : We actually want to start filming before the sun starts to set, that way we can show it was a full day spent here, don’t worry though, we’ll make sure you can use the restroom soon.
Lisa tucked her hair behind her ear
Lisa : umm, yeah, that’s fine I guess as long as it’s soon.
Lisa then ran up to join the rest of the group, making sure to make short quick strides when she did as her bladder started weighing heavy… it was getting harder for her to conceal just how bad she needed to pee.
Andy ; So as you all know, I was a baseball player in high school, so I need a girl who can keep up with me athletically, so I wanted to test all of your skills at the bottle toss game.
Amber : I may not be all that sporty, but if you could give me a few pointers that would be great
Megan went up to him in her short denim skirt and black tank top, making sure to press her firm body against Andy’s whenever she had the chance.
Andy : Yeah, so stand with your feet this far apart, and bring your elbow back like this, alright, now let it fly.
Amber threw a lopsided weak ball that missed all the bottles.
Lisa rolled her eyes at the ridiculous display, but Andy was clearly into this fake chick, and knew she started to play catch up. She sauntered over to him, game him a flirty smile, and without realizing it tightly crossed her legs, trying to keep the growing pressure in her bladder at bay.
Andy : Yeah, first of all uncross your legs
Lisa was a little embarrassed, now realizing that she had to do a better job of not doing a childish potty dance in front of Andy and the cameras
Lisa : of yeah, obviously… haha, so how should I stand.
Andy : Well spread your feet a little
And as Lisa spread her legs she had to active squeeze her bladder, and wiggle her butt back and forth a little, making sure she didn’t end up leaking in her tight jeans on national television.
Andy : okay and bring your arm back, perfect… let it fly.
Lisa threw a perfect strike, knocking all 10 bottles to the floor.
Lisa : I played softball in high school
Andy : yeah, that was awesome… you clearly didn’t need my help haa
Lisa : yeah, but I don’t mind cozzying up…. Do you want my giant teddy bear haha
Andy : haha no, you earned it, that’s alllll yours.
Lisa : such a gentleman
Just as she was starting to vibe with Andy Megan comes up to the two of them
Amber : hey sorry, can I still a little time with Andy… I was wondering if you wanted to go grab a drink
Andy : yeah, absolutely… Lisa I’ll come find you later
Lisa : yeah of, course, we’ll have time to catch up
She said it cheerfully, but on the inside was pissed that was all the time she had with him, and that Amber got the first break-off session.
Lisa thought was a great time to finally run to the bathroom though, and walked up to the producer Erin again
Lisa : hey I reeeeeallly, could use that bathroom break now
She said with a forced smile
Erin : yeah, just one more second, we have to get this one group shot first then one of the assistants will escort you.
Lisa started dancing in place again, snapping her fingers and started marching in place.
Megan : ummm, doing okay there Lis?
Lisa blushed and whispered to Megan
Lisa : oh sorry, I actually REALLY need to use a bathroom
Megan laughed out loud and tucked her red hair behind her ear
Megan : yeah, I didn’t want to say anything, but you were definitely looking a little squirmy
Lisa : oh god, do you think it was obvious that I need to go
Megan : I wouldn’t worry about it… but maybe stop dancing in place?
Lisa just realized that she was wiggling her tight little butt back and forth the entire time, and did her best to stand stay.
Erin : hey Lisa, you can go to the bathroom now if you need to.
Lisa breathed a sigh of relief and almost spring to catch up with the assistant escorting her to the bathroom. When she did, she felt the smallest half-second spurt escape her, and her face instantly dropped and she changed her gait to small quick steps.
Okay, this is not good she thought to herself, I need to get there ASAP
The assistant, a chubby man in his mid-30’s led her to the public bathroom, which had a line wrapped around the corner.
Lisa : umm, I hate to ask this, but I don’t want to hold production up, is there anyway you could ask to get me to the front of the line or something
Assistant : sorry, that’s not really my call, just meet us back where we were when we were done.
Lisa had no choice but to take her place in the back of the line. At least she was now out of sight from the cameras and Andy, so she was free to bury hands in her crotch as she waited… there was the public around her sure… but at this point she just didn’t care. She forgot she was still wearing a mic… and Little did she know, there was a camera secretly filming her standing in line.
Erin turned the assistant : this is going to be great, we’ll definitely use this bathroom thing as a sub-plot for the episode, let’s make sure she doesn’t get to go for a while still.
10 minutes go by, and Lisa is REALLY starting to feel it now, her bladder is constantly weighing on her, one knee is raised and her leg is tightly wrapped around the other one. Thankfully she didn’t leak any more but it was starting to become a legitimate concern.
The crew continued to film Lisa, and just as she is at the front of the line Erin walks up to her.
Erin : hey, sorry to do this, but you’re going to be next up for some alone time with Andy, and we don’t want to fall behind schedule so we need you right now
Lisa : ummm… can it wait just a minute… I really need to go, like it’s an emergency, she said with a fake chuckle
Erin pretended not to realize how bad the situation was and put her hand on Lisa back to lead her away
Erin : sorry, but we’ve been a little behind schedule all day, we promise you’ll get a break soon, but we need to get this filmed right now, or you would miss out on your time with Andy, we wouldn’t want that right.
Lisa just gave a fake smile and tried to compose herself, and make the most of her time with Andy.
Andy : there you are! So I had an idea, how are you with heights? Because I managed to get the ferris wheel to ourselves, maybe we could take in a view of the night.
Just then, Lisa felt a small spurt of pee escape her and her brown eyes went wide and she froze in place.
Andy : I’m sorry, are you noy okay with heights?
Lisa : oh no, what.. sorry no I’m a big girl and don’t scare away easy, what do you have in mind?
Andy put his hand on the small of her back and they walk off together. Lisa was scared to look, but did a quick glance down at her crotch… all dry… but she really needs to get to a bathroom soon.
Andy : Ladies first….
Andy made a gesture for her to climb into the ferris wheel
Lisa took a deep breath in… knowing that even climbing the small step up to the carriage would be a strain on her bladder…. But thankfully she was able to shuffle in, sit down, and cross her legs at tight as humanly possible. But she had to focus on her relationship right now if she wanted to make it further on this show… and tried her best to push her bladder out of her mind.
Lisa : It’s a beautiful night tonight
Andy : not as beautiful as you
Lisa decided to taunt him playfully
Lisa : oh wow… I think I’m starting to see why you’re single… cheesy lines like that
Andy : Haha, I guess you’re right… but I promise I get better the better you get to know me
Lisa shifted over in her seat closer to Andy, with her legs still firmly crossed and rested her head on his shoulder
Lisa : I think you’re doing alright for yourself already
Andy then noticed Lisa was shifting back and forth in her seat and tapping her foot violently
Andy : I know I joked before, but are you okay with heights… because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable
Lisa : Oh no… really I’m fine… I think I’m just nervous
Andy : well… what can we do about that
Andy then moved his to her knee, feeling the fabric of her skin tight light blue jeans as he moved it up her thigh
Lisa : well, I know one thing that always helps settle me nerves
Lisa then leaned in close and softly kissed Andy on the lips… completely forgetting about her aching bladder for a moment. As Andy kissed her passionately, he moved his hand towards her toned, round ass and gently squeezed it. Just then, Lisa felt a spurt of warmth spread out of her and travel down her thighs and towards her butt. She shot up in her seat like a rocket and instantly broke off the kiss.
Andy : Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t know… I thought you wanted me to
Lisa : no, no, no…. it’s not that….
She sheepishly looked down… and to her horror, saw a small stain the size of orange on the crotch of her jeans.
Andy put his hand on her knee
Andy : What is it… is there something I did wrong?
Lisa flung both her hands to her crotch, desperately trying to cover the stain
Lisa : no, I just suddenly got a bad cramp… I’ll be okay…
Andy : Oh… okay, let’s get you down then checked out to make sure everything is okay
Lisa : yeah…. Umm that’s probably for the best.
Andy shouted down to the operator to get down, and Lisa sat there silently, hands buried in her crotch, hanging on for dear life that the situation won’t get worse. She thought to herself that the stain is small, if she can hold the rest in, maybe no one will ever notice.
Andy : hey, get out first, I’m right behind you
Lisa took In a deep breath, put both hands on the seat and got up as slow as possible. When she walked past Andy he snuck a peak at her firm butt… and let out and audible “woah”
Lisa’s hands shot down to her butt…. And she bit her lip and closed her eyes when she felt a huge wet stain covering her ass.
She walked out past the operator of the ferris wheel… still thinking she can play it off as she sat in something… he’d buy that right?
Operator : is everything okay you guys
Andy : yeah, she’s just not feeling well.
Lisa made a bee line for the bathroom…. Holding the side of her butt with each hand, and taking quick paces as to not leak anymore…. A few step in though she stopped in her tracks…. As she felt a stream of warm pee cascade down her legs.
Andy : hey…. What’ wrong are you….. oh
Andy looked down and was speechless as he watched the beautiful brunette completely wet her jeans. Lisa could do nothing but stand there in shock… hands still on her thighs as the pee made a massive stain down the front of both of her thighs past her knees. Her butt was drenched, with pee streaming all the way up to the top of her butt, down to the cuff of her jeans. Tears staring to form in her eyes as she was rendered speechless.
Erin : oh my god…. Did she seriously just piss her pants… this is going to make phenomenol television.
Lisa just now realizing where she was…. Standing in the middle of a crowded fair with people watching her, the cameras were rolling as the pee stain obvious on her jeans…. And then the other girls saw it. She heard Amber star cackling loudly…
Amber : I’m sorry…. Looks like someone had a little accident.
Andy : don’t…. it’s okay, these things happen… it’s not a big deal.
Lisa couldn’t take it anymore, she started crying and stormed towards the exit… not wanting to talk to anyone else.
Erin : Hey Andy, we’re going to need to get your confessional on what just happened… while it’s still fresh
Andy : yeah, I mean she had an accident (trying to suppress a chuckle) I mean, when you gotta go, you gotta go.
Erin : what does that do to your attraction to Lisa
Andy : I mean, I just feel bad for her… the girl just pissed her pants… it’s definitely a little gross… but she’s still a beautiful girl, I mean if it’s a one time thing I guess I would be pretty shallow to say that’s a deal breaker.
Lisa couldn’t stand to talk to anymore producers… any more contestants, Andy, she just wanted to go home. One of the crew members of the show laid down some papers in her car and drove her back to the bachelor mansion, where she hoped to put this whole disaster date behind her. |
"That was the most disappointing soccer game I've seen in a long time!" The voice echoed loudly, with a domineering tone. "If you guys bothered to show up we would have won this game easily! And you Emily...I couldn't be more disappointed in you. You're supposed to be the team captain...leading this squad. I didn't see you hustle at all during the last half of the game, and you missed several key opportunities to score..." After the long speech, there was a long moment of silence, the only sound generated by the engine of the bus.
It was a tense atmosphere, as a figure soon stood up from the middle of the bus, clearing her throat. She was a bit on the tall side, and her long brunette hair tied back in a ponytail to prevent it from getting in her face. She had a pale complexion, but had quite a toned body, especially for her age. She appeared calmer and confident, which was surprising given the nervous atmosphere of everyone around her. "I'm sorry for our effort coach...I promise we'll work on our game..." She started to speak, acknowledging the presence of the coach on the bus.
"You had better work harder ladies...otherwise we'll have to make some cuts to the team for next year..." He announced with a scoff as he turned to address the girl standing. "And you Emily...I expect you to lead this team...so you had better figure out the issues of the team...and the issue of your play." He demanded, before sitting down, indicating that the conversation was over. The standing girl slowly nodded and sat back down, as the bus continued to churn down the highway.
An hour or so later, the bus screeched to a halt outside the athlete dorm for the university. The doors opened and a handful of tired, battered, and demoralized girls exited, carrying their bags. They were eager for some sleep, especially this late at night. A few of the girls started to trickle off to the dorms before a voice called out to them.
"Everyone gather around! Nobody is heading to the dorms until I finish speaking..." Instead of the coach barking out orders, it was the team captain, Emily. She continued to call out, until she made sure everyone was accounted for to hear what she had to say. "Alright...I know we aren't supposed to have practice tomorrow...given that it's Saturday. But I expect you all to show out to the practice fields at 9 AM sharp. If you are late, you aren't playing the next game. If you don't show up, you're off the team, am I clear?" Emily commanded, in a stern tone, although she purposely avoided the yelling that her coach had done before. There were a series of murmurs, before Emily nodded and motioned off to the dorm. "Alright, get some sleep. We're running through some practices and a scrimmage tomorrow. And it won't be easy..." She cautioned as she started to head to the dorm room herself.
Being a senior, Emily had a dorm room all to herself, which was perfectly fine with her. She enjoyed the company of her teammates, but they did everything together, and she always desired having time to herself to relax and unwind. However, instead of returning in a jubilant mood, she entered into her room, sighing softly to herself. She closed and locked her door before flipping the light on. She set her backpack down on the floor near her bed before heading into the bathroom.
She sat down on the toilet, having a fairly solid urge to pee. "Why is my bladder so small?" She muttered aloud as she relieved herself. "If I hadn't had to pee all damn game, we would've won!" Emily growled to herself, shaking her head. She finished up her pee before hopping into the shower to calm herself down. She let the hot water flow down her body as she thought about ways that she could prevent such a loss from happening again. She rarely had an issue about needing to pee during games, in her three previous years on the team, she couldn't recall a time that she had such an issue. However, it was clear to Emily that if something like that arose again, it would be a serious issue that would affect her playing ability on the field.
As she showered, she thought of a way to potentially circumvent the issue. She knew that the coach would never let her take a bathroom break, especially with her playing most of the game. There was no way she was going to pee on the sideline or in her uniform during the game, but she couldn't just toss aside her problem and hope it would dissipate. Emily thought about it some more when an idea formulated into her head.
"If I can't pee during the game...I might just have to prepare in case I have to pee during a game..." She thought to herself as she exited the shower. "If I can go through a practice while having to pee...I would be prepared if it happens during a game." Emily thought over it a few more times, convincing herself that it wasn't an outlandish idea and that it would help her in the future.
Emily calmed her nerves and changed into her pajamas, falling asleep. Given her exhaustion from the game, it didn't take long for her to fall asleep, completely knocked out on her bed.
The next morning, Emily woke up early, at around 8 AM. She slid out of bed, stretching her slender body out as she made her way to the bathroom. She quickly relieved herself, checking herself out in the mirror. "Alright Emily...you can do this...just think about the team..." She reassured herself as she soon changed into her soccer practice uniform for the day. She adjusted her light blue athletic shirt and shorts before heading out to grab a bottle of water and a snack from her mini fridge. She quickly ate her small snack before exiting her room, sipping from her bottle.
Emerging onto the main pavilion, Emily was greeted by a massive blast of heat, and within a minute she was beginning to sweat, and she hadn't even begun practicing yet. She started to walk towards the practice fields, located a short distance from the dorm room. She continued to take sips from her bottle, soon disposing of it in a nearby trashcan. She arrived at the field a short while later and made her way to the storage room. She pulled out a large cooler and stuffed it full of ice cold water bottles from the fridge, before bringing it out to the field.
As the 9 AM deadline rolled around, the entire team started to trickle in, clearly not too pleased about having to wake up early after a crushing defeat. Emily soon ran a head count of everyone, ensuring that the entire team was present for the practice. "Alright...let's get warmed up..." She announced before leading the team in a variety of warm up exercises, mainly running around the perimeter of the field and stretching out for the actual practice. When they were done, Emily walked over towards the cooler, and distributed a handful of water bottles, ensuring that everyone was hydrated on the sweltering day. Each girl was already sweating nicely and guzzled down their bottle in a matter of minutes. "Alright...let's start practicing...we have to work on our passing and defense mainly, so that's where we'll start for the day." Emily announced, taking another bottle for herself as she spoke. She continued to sip on it, eventually finishing it by the time she finished organizing the drill.
The girls started to run out to the field as the practice commenced. They focused on a variety of drills, ensuring that the mistakes that they made would not be replicated on the field again. Of course for Emily, she was focused on an entirely different practice, which she withheld from the rest of the team. Around an hour or so later, Emily called for a break and the girls all retreated back to the sideline, to rehydrate themselves. Everyone was sweating profusely and already looked exhausted. "Alright...I think that it's too hot to practice outdoors...we should head to the indoor gym for our scrimmage...it'll be cooler there." Emily announced, much to everyone's relief. She started to wheel the cooler towards the indoor facility, which was a brief walk away. She had a bottle of water in her hand, and was rapidly consuming it, even walking made her slightly tired.
Emily soon led everyone inside as they were immediately greeted by a blast of chilled air conditioning. Emily led them to their field and allowed them to take a brief break, with many choosing to use the restroom before they played their game. Emily watched the girls head off to the bathroom, shaking her head slowly. "Nope...you have to practice like it's a real game...you can't use the bathroom during a game..." She reassured herself, opening another water bottle. By this point she had consumed over a liter of water, yet hardly felt an urge to pee. She simply assumed that she was sweating so much, she didn't need to go, but truthfully she had no idea why she had no urge to go to the bathroom. She simply cast it aside and glanced at her bottle. She quickly finished it as the rest of the team arrived back and Emily started to organize the teams for the scrimmage.
As the girls took their positions out on the field, Emily felt the first sign of needing to pee. It seemed harmless, but it wasn't a good sign that she already had a slight urge to relieve herself. "Don't worry Emily...it's not too bad yet..." She reassured herself, taking deep breaths as the game started. The girls all started to run around the field, clearly playing to win. During a normal scrimmage, the team wouldn't have started a scrimmage by playing so hard, but after a demoralizing defeat, each girl was determined to play better and prove they deserved a spot on the team.
For the first twenty minutes, Emily played exceptionally well, passing the ball around and even scoring a goal fifteen minutes into the game. She had played much better than her previous effort, and looked to bounce back. As she took her position for a free kick, Emily felt a larger tugging coming from her bladder. It was more pronounced than before, and in the cooled environment of the indoor facility, the water that she drank would trickle right into her bladder, instead of her sweating it off. She tried to cast it aside, but she could tell that with over. seventy minutes to go, it could pose a problem later on.
Up until half time, Emily continued to play well, but she was starting to be bothered by her increasing urge to pee. She continued to try and hustle, but her bladder continued to send occasional signals out, indicating its need to be emptied. Soon, the slight occasional tugging sensation became a constant dull urge that seemed to magnify as half time approached. Emily went back to the sideline and pulled out a bottle of water. Despite being bothered by her growing urge, she knew she had to remain hydrated as she quickly drank the bottle, still panting heavily. The coach walked over to the two teams and discussed ways to improve each team could improve, going over positive and negative aspects.
However, for Emily, she was entirely focused elsewhere. She had prepared for this after all, she wanted to have the experience of holding her pee during a game, but she still felt unprepared. She had an entire half to go, and she felt as if she might wet herself out on the field if her urge continued to grow like it had. She was hardly listening to the coach, before he noticed how disillusioned she looked.
"Emily, were you listening to me?" The coach paused his discussion, and glanced at her with a skeptical eyebrow.
"Hmm...oh, yeah...sorry about that coach." Emily quickly apologized, trying to divert attention from her.
"Alright then...what did I just say?" The coach asked her, trying to disprove her response.
"Err...I...I'm not sure..." Emily admitted openly, lowering her head.
The coach frowned and narrowed his eyes in her direction. "You...as the captain should be the one most engaged with us right now. I can't have you thinking about other things right now...and I won't tolerate people who can't focus during practice. After the game...I want you to run three laps around the field...maybe it'll give you more time to focus on the game." The coach ordered, making it clear that there wasn't any room for dissent. Emily could only muster a slow nod as she made sure to listen closer to what the coach had to say.
The halftime soon ended and the teams made their way back out onto the field. Emily took her position as the game resumed, with everyone feeling a bit more refreshed and energized after their brief break. As for Emily, she ran around with her teammates, and it seemed as if the break gave her a bit more energy. However, her urge to relieve herself only intensified and she ran around with an increasingly full bladder. With each step she could feel a tug at her bladder, as all of the waters she previous drank started to fill up her bladder, making it harder to move around with the energy she previously had. However, Emily knew if she could handle a practice, she could sure as hell manage a full game.
Emily continued to play as hard as she could, doing her best to ignore her bladder's frequent pulses and pleas for release. She continued to run hard, pass the ball around, and put in as much effort as possible, as the game started to wind down. Her bladder was screaming for relief and it wasn't until a pause in the action when she realized how bad she had to go. She rubbed her stomach briefly, a discreet motion that wouldn't draw too much attention. However, as she rubbed her abdomen, she felt the massive bulge that had swelled up. She rubbed it briefly, finding it rock hard. If it weren't for her loose fitting athletic shirt, Emily would sure have attracted some attention with it. A brief glance up at the score clock showed that they only had five more minutes.
"Come on Em...you can do it...five more minutes...just take deep breaths..." Emily attempted to assure herself, even if her bladder had other plans. She did her best to compose herself, even as play resumed. She didn't care that much about the game, all she was focused on was not trying to wet herself in front of her teammates and coach. Everyone else seemed to play on perfectly fine, but Emily was struggling out there, handicapped by an aching bladder. She couldn't help but steal glances at the scoreboard, watching the minutes tick down. Eventually, the loud buzzer sounded and the girls all started to head off.
"Alright...you girls are all done for the day...good work ladies." The coach announced as everyone started to head out of the field. As Emily prepared to leave, the coach stopped her. "Excuse me Emily...where do you think you're going? Did you not forget about your attitude during halftime? You owe me three laps..." The coach pointed to the field, a stern glare on his face.
Emily knew it was useless to argue with him and she started to jog down the sideline with a loud sigh. She was so close to being able to relieve herself, but now she would have to run around, with the coach watching her every move. Her bladder was pounding as she ran, desperately trying to hang on as best as she could. She finished two laps and was on the homestretch of the third when her bladder started to give in. She could feel her bladder muscles beginning to tire out, exhausted after an entire game. She started to leak out into her panties, as she tried her best to hold it in. It took all of her willpower to hold back the mighty force of her pee, but she managed to do so, only after dampening her pair of panties. She arrived back at the sideline, panting heavily.
The coach nodded towards her. "Good...I hope you'll listen better next time Emily." He cautioned, motioning towards the exit doors. Emily gave a quick nod of her head as she exited, promptly heading towards the bathroom. She was jubilant on making it this far, but her expression soon soured when she reached the bathroom.
A long line had formed at the bathroom, as virtually the entire team was waiting outside. None of them seemed to be in any rush, it appeared that they only had to go out of convenience. However, Emily was bursting at this point, her bladder was on the verge of bursting, and she had already shown signs of giving in. She knew she wasn't going to make it in time, especially with the long line.
Emily soon jammed her hands into her crotch as she started to make her way around the facility, trying to head to the nearest alternate restroom. She knew there was one on the third floor of the facility, but she had to go up two flights of stairs in order to make it. She took a deep breath and started to run up the stairwell, her hands pressed up against her shorts as she sprinted up. She avoided the gaze of confused people who she passed, not bothering on how she looked in a time of desperate emergency. She ascended up both flights, as her bladder ached and begged for relief.
Emily soon arrived at the top floor, and saw the sign for the restroom. She sprinted in, incredibly relieved to find it completely empty. As soon as she entered into her stall, her bladder muscles completely gave in and a torrential flow of pee immediately gushed out. Emily threw down her shorts and panties in a frantic manner, but not before she started to wet them slightly. She gave a deep sigh of relief as she let her bursting bladder finally have the relief that it craved for a long time.
As she listened to the sound of her stream of pee splash into the toilet, Emily thought about the events that transpired. "At least I'm prepared for a real game now...although I sure hope that never happens again..." She thought to herself, snickering slightly. "But at least I know I can play soccer with a full bladder..."
(Again, let me know what feedback you have, I'm always open to suggestions! I'd also be open to writing more stories with other players on the team if there's enough interest.)
Edited April 22, 2020 by essentialred
(see edit history) |
Excuse me, this is my first fanfic in the universe of control. I do not know English well, but judge strictly! Thank! After a lot of searching time, I did not find any fan fiction on this topic. Therefore, I decided to do it myself.
Jesse had been in an unknown, dangerous and huge building for several hours. Suddenly everything fell on her. The duties of the director, superpower, and a huge number of dangerous monsters who tried to kill her. She moved along one of the corridors to return to a safe area where she could rest. Each cell of her body was incredibly tense and concentrated so that the suddenly jumping out monster did not kill her. She had no right to make a mistake. In the end, if she dies, then no one can stop these monsters from capturing the House. Soon she was at the elevator. Everything went pretty quietly and she killed only a few monsters who just walked and did not pay attention to her. She climbed the elevator and ended up in a safe area.
Many employees greeted her approvingly. In the end, if the director having superpowers did not die after a dangerous sortie to open the whole HOUSE, it was very good for them. Jesse perfectly mastered all the artifacts that she received. Nevertheless, she retained human fatigue and weakness. She literally fell down, so she effortlessly got to the nearest sofa in a closed room and fell asleep, not paying attention to the first tingling in the bladder.
A few hours later, she discovered that someone had covered her with a blanket. Looking around, she saw that Emily was sitting on a chair. She was in the defense system and was clearly busy with something. Jesse's stomach purred treacherously. Emily turned and smiled affably. In the end, Jesse and Emily were in a very friendly or even ... pleasant relationship. Emily asked Jesse for well-being and brought her something to eat. Jesse spent a little time talking with Emily and decided to move forward when suddenly Emily detained her and asked to find one artifact hidden literally nearby. Jesse agreed to bring it and, having said goodbye, raised its weapon to combat readiness. Her bladder slowly filled with a new bottle of water, although for her it was not very noticeable. In the end, she got there pretty quickly got to the place where she pulled out a telephone connection.
Literally in the next room was a small glass container in which there was a rather strange ball. She slowly approached him and shot through the container, after which the artifact began to tremble a bit and jumped into Jesse's hands. She was surprised, but he had almost no effect on her. She examined him. It was a shiny round ball weighing about 400 grams. She shifted it to the other hand. No reaction. Soon she returned to the safe area to Emily, who was glad of this find. She carefully took him in a glove and said that the artifact was inactive and calmly sighed. After which she read out a case about this artifact Jessica. It turned out that this artifact was a source of endless water that one of the directors used to destroy dangerous objects from the inside. If Jesse manages to subjugate him, he can completely kill opponents with strong armor from the inside. Jesse liked this, but Emily said she did not know about the side effects of these artifacts. Jesse decided to take a chance and thanks to the pyramid she tied the artifact to herself.
Just a couple of seconds, nothing happened. Emily asked how she was feeling. Jesse focused on her emotions and felt only a slight need. She looked at Emily and said nothing. Emily said it was strange ... And then Jesse came up with a crazy idea. She looked at Emily's cute tight-fitting pants and imagined that the urine inside was filled with water. Emily abruptly began to worry and grabbed her bladder. She turned in surprise and looked at Jesse, who was breathing unevenly and was clearly aroused by this. Emily was glad that the artifact was working ... But nevertheless, she was not ready for such a sharp turn of events and asked what Jesse wanted to do ... She was awkward breathing and closed the door to the room and curtained the curtain. Jesse said: "I .... I like this ... You and that ... how you wriggle ... I hope you will not mind." Emily was extremely surprised. She could not refuse the director but her heart beat faster. She started to get nervous but she started to like it. And she set the condition that only if Jesse agrees then to torment her. Jesse was incredibly embarrassed but agreed. Then she went to Emily. Emily felt she was quite full but could still hold on. Jesse walked over to her and slowly began to unfasten her pants. Emily was very embarrassed but did not resist. Soon she was only in shorts. Emily was very uncomfortable holding hands and Jesse knew that. She walked away from her and smiled slightly. Emily began to shrink. After a couple of minutes, Jesse again imagined Emily's bladder filling up significantly. Emily squealed a little and grabbed her bubble. She was almost at the limit since Jesse overdid it a bit. She began to contract very strongly and constantly moved and danced looking at Jesse .. Jesse was incredibly excited and her heart was beating like mad. She looked at Emily's beautiful bare legs and her movements. Emily soon said that she could not stand it for a long time. Jesse walked over to Emily and ... kissed her lightly on the table. Emily was almost at the limit, but she managed to answer that kiss and stay dry. Jesse began to take off her clothes and appeared in front of Emily in only one of her bras and panties. Because of the armor on Emily, taking off her shirt was all the more so when she used both her arms and legs to restrain her urine was problematic, but soon Emily found herself in only shorts. Jesse deftly sat on her and she sat right on her bladder. Emily literally burst with desire, but without words, Jesse did nothing. Jesse pressed on her urine ... then jumped a little. Emily let out a sigh of great excitement. She very often groaned and barely held. After that, Jesse gently pressed her hands and Emily could no longer use them to hold herself and very often began to jump with her pelvis on her urine. Emily groaned more and more. She was at the limit of her abilities. After a couple of minutes, she said that she could no longer hold on and .... flowed. At first, insignificantly, but with each new press, it flowed stronger and stronger until a stream of water flowed from it. Emily tried to stop but could not. She wriggled her legs, but Jesse's sharp kiss made her just relax and release everything. Jesse and Emily were close to each other lying on the table ... After a couple of minutes of heavy breathing, Emily said: "it's my turn." There was a slight smile on her face, and Jesse's heart began to beat again more often. |
(This is just a continuation off of a previous story. The author hasn't posted an update to their story, and there seems to be interest in continuing it. So here's the next part to it.)
Claire Redfield paused briefly to collect her breath, panting heavily. The gravity of her actions just set in, she had just killed a zombie, who used to be a human just like her. However, there was no time for mourning, as Claire knew she had to get out of the gas station as soon as possible. She grabbed a nearby key from a rack and opened a locked door. As she emerged into the main storefront, she was immediately greeted by the sounds of zombies churning all around the aisles.
With no other choice, Claire started to run through the aisles, a hand clutched up against her lower abdomen. She darted up an aisle, narrowly avoiding a falling shelf that landed with a loud thud right behind her. She gasped out as the exit was in sight. As she was about to open the door, a figured threw open the door, aiming a gun directly in Claire's face. She instinctively raised her hands in surrender. "Woah, don't shoot!" She blurted out, clearly caught off guard.
Instead of shooting her, the figure shouted back at her. "Get down!" He ordered, right as he fired his weapon at a zombie that was right behind Claire. Taking a brief glance back at the limp body, Claire stood up, the sudden movement slightly irritating her bladder. With everything that was going on, she was still searching for a restroom, but there was no way she could use the ones in the gas station, not with zombies roaming all around the premises. "We have to get out of here..." She muttered out, as she started to head towards the exit.
The two of them both exited and emerged on the exterior of the gas station. "You alright?" The figured asked Claire, who turned to face him. "Yeah...I think so...thanks..." She responded, still trying to catch her breath after the tense exchange. "You can thank me later...when we're safe." He responded, as a wave of zombies approached them, swarming around the gas pumps. Just the sight of the horde approaching made Claire nervous, and with her bladder begging for relief, it only exacerbated her issues. However, she wasn't about to wet herself out of fear, not wanting to look like a child. She aimed her gun at the approaching horde, preparing to shoot at them, before her companion glanced at a nearby car. "Come on!" He shouted, as Claire started to follow him into the car, slamming the door shut after her. With skilled precision, he quickly peeled the car out of the gas station and out onto the nearby road.
As they drove down the road, Claire decided to break the silence that lingered in the air. "What the hell is going on?" She asked him, hoping that he would have some for of answer for her. "I don't know...hopefully they'll have some answers at the police station." Claire slowly nodded her head in acknowledgement. "And a bathroom would be nice..." She thought to herself, as her hands instinctively slid down towards her crotch. Thinking about what he said, she turned back to him with a curious look on her face. "Wait...you're a cop?" She asked him.
He slowly responded, nodding his head. "Yeah, Leon Kennedy...and you are?"
"Claire...Claire Redfield..." She responded, sitting up in her seat.
"Live around here?" Leon asked her, following up.
"No...I'm looking for my brother...he's a cop too..." Claire admitted openly.
"Well...it's a good thing we found each other...I don't know what to expect anymore..." Leon responded, as he nodded his head and kept on driving.
Eventually, as the duo entered Raccoon City, they reached a roadblock, with nowhere for the car to go. Before they could react however, a group of zombies started to swarm the doors of the car, smashing their faces up against the windows of the vehicle. "Leon, we gotta back up..." Claire blurted out, but the glimpse of lights approaching from behind caused Claire to gasp out in fear. It soon became clear that a large vehicle was rushing towards them, and it wasn't stopping. "We gotta get out, now!" He barked out, as the two of them pushed up against their doors, trying to get out. However, the doors wouldn't budge as the vehicle still charged at them.
The speeding car careened off the road, slamming into a series of parked cars before ricocheting and hitting the car the duo were in. It was pushed back with a loud thud, before screeching to a halt. As soon as the wreck was over, Claire stumbled out of the car, clutching her lower abdomen. She emerged out into the dark and rainy night which did her no favors for her aching bladder. The sound of rain hitting the asphalt filled the surrounding environment, and Claire could feel a large tugging sensation, as if her bladder's contents wanted to fill the endless stream of liquid falling down.
Claire stumbled around for a few seconds before a massive explosion propelled her against the side of a vehicle, before she crumbled down to the ground with a loud thud. Groaning in pain, she rose to her feet, her hands pressed up against her crotch as she did so. The impact caused her bladder to leak out, and she could feel a slight warmth coming from her panties. "Ugh..." She muttered to herself, as she rubbed her growing bulge before gathering her bearings. She turned and found the burning wreck of the vehicle they were once in, before a shouting voice grabbed her attention. "Claire...Claire, are you ok!" Leon shouted over the fiery wreck.
"Yeah...I'm alright, what about you?" Claire asked, raising her voice as well.
"I can't stay here, it's not safe!" Leon responded, as a wave of zombies started to rise up.
"Go on, I'll meet you at the station!" Claire yelled back, as she turned away and started to run away towards the police station. She narrowly avoided the zombies scattered on the streets. She held her revolver in her right hand, with her left hand clutching her abdomen, trying to hold her bladder in as best as possible. Claire snuck through an alley, emerging on the street in front of the police station. "There it is...the police station...almost there...and then I can finally find a bathroom..." She muttered aloud to herself, as she ran through the large gates of the entryway to the police station, locking the door behind her. She ran up the small pathway and into the interior of the police station, eager to find safety, and a bathroom to relieve her growing urge to pee. |
As soon as Claire opened the doors to the police station, she loudly announced her presence to the seemingly deserted hall. It was a large hall but there was nobody around as it seemed. "Anybody here?" She loudly announced as she made her way up to the front desk. There was a police laptop opened on the front desk as Claire ran up to it. A list of CCTV cameras appeared, as she searched through them, searching for her brother. However, before she had a chance to locate him, one of the cameras picked up something.
A man appeared to be retreating from a zombified figure, occasionally shooting in the direction of the zombie. "Oh shit...they're inside too..." Claire muttered softly, noting how dire the situation truly had become. The supposed safe place was clearly breached and she was far from safe. As Claire switched through the cameras trying to keep up with the man, he suddenly held up what seemed to be a journal of sorts, pointing it at the camera.
"I found a way out...it's in here!" He exclaimed before the zombie started to rush towards him. The man was able to push the zombie off of him before making a last remark. "Send reinforcements...East Hallway..." He muttered out as the laptop soon showed a map detailing the layout of the police station. What Claire noted was the presence of a bathroom, located on her floor. While her bladder was certainly screaming for relief, she was extremely hesitant to do so. It was clear that the interior of the police station was no longer safe, and the last thing she needed was to have the sound of her peeing attract any unwanted attention.
Claire took a deep breath to compose herself as she stepped away from the laptop. "Maybe I can just...see if the bathroom is empty..." She thought to herself, her left hand instinctively sliding down to the waistline of her jeans. She slowly rubbed her aching bulge as she started to wander around the main hall, seeing if there was anything useful laying around. She searched around the medical cots and containers, eventually finding a spray bottle. She picked it up and glanced at it hesitantly. "Huh...first aid spray? That may come in handy..." She thought to herself, putting it in her utility pouch.
As soon as she completed her search, Claire approached the large grated door. There was a sign taped to the front, with the words "Keep Out" written clearly. Next to the door was a lever, with a red light on top. She pulled the lever down as the door started to churn up, although only raising a few inches before getting stuck. The hole was barely enough for a person to fit through, but Claire had no other option. She got down on the floor, pulling out her flashlight and peering it through into the dark and eerie hallway.
"Great..." Claire muttered out as she went prone against the floor, sliding through the narrow gap. Her bladder was tugging with each movement, being pressed up against the cold hard floor. Her bladder was causing Claire a decent amount of discomfort, and trying to crawl through a narrow space didn't make her situation any better. As Claire made her way through the hole, she soon stood up and started to make her way through the hallway. It was only a few steps before her feet were submerged in a small puddle of water.
As soon as her feet made contact with the ground, Claire's bladder screamed for relief. Claire had to hunch over, jamming both of her hands into her crotch to prevent her bladder's contents from adding onto the standing water. Her pee was trying to escape out but she was determined to hold on as long as possible. "Come on Claire...you can do this...just a little bit more..." She muttered to herself as she resumed walking, exiting the small pond and back onto the cold floor.
Continuing to walk, Claire continued to take deep breaths as she ventured further and further into the unknown. "Focus Claire...Focus..." She reassured herself as she rounded a corner, now on the hallway where the bathrooms were located. She continued to advance until a blockade stopped her progress. "No...no..." She groaned softly, as she surveyed the scene. The hallway was blocked off by a makeshift barricade, with a large cabinet blocking a portion of the way. "If I can just move this...I should be able to move through..." She thought to herself and went to work on moving the cabinet.
Claire braced herself against the cabinet and pushed with all of her might. She grunted out as she pressed both of her hands against it, shoving the heavy cabinet aside with a loud thud. She took a deep breath as she continued on, as she reached her destination. She saw the sign saying "Women" and entered into the door adjacent to it.
Claire searched around the bathroom, finding it clear of any life. Having encountered nobody on her way to the bathroom, she finally convinced herself that the coast was clear and that she would be able to relieve the nagging urge that had been pestering her all night. She couldn't help but smile softly to herself, taking in the seemingly small victory.
As she opened a stall door, Claire's expression soon soured. Water was gushing out of the toilet and onto the floor, as if it was a fountain instead. "No...no...this...this can't be happening..." She muttered to herself, as she opened the other stall doors, finding each was overflowing with water. Her bladder was begging for relief, filled up to the brim and ready to be let go. However, there was no way to use any of the toilets in the condition they were in. Claire took a deep breath to compose herself, sensing how defeated she became. She placed her hand on her bulging abdomen, trying to soothe her bladder. It appeared that she would have to refocus to keep alive. |
The Saturday Club ( Part One )
My work colleague caught me with wet pants on Saturday!
I was in the office catching up on work for a few hours before spending the afternoon with the family and I was alone in the office with no visitors expected because it was the weekend. Without warning I heard the outer door close then footsteps on the stairs and a moment later Sian walked into my office, smiled and said, ‘Morning’.
Sian said, as she picked up my empty cup, ‘would you like another cup of coffee? I’m just going to finish the last few quotations from yesterday so that I have a clean start on Monday, Harvey (her boyfriend) has gone to the match so I don’t expect him back anytime soon.’ Sian was our sales supervisor, and very good she was too. The salesmen respected her because she had, ‘been out there and done it’, in sales and understood exactly the challenges they faced on a daily basis to win business. Sian was 32, I knew that because as the sales director, I was her boss. We had never had a crossed word and always got along exceptionally well and that was it, no further advances had been made or hinted at by either of us.
I must explain at this point that I had taken the opportunity of being alone for a couple of hours to indulge my pee fetish and after enjoying an earlier cup of coffee I had sat at my desk working until I had to pee and then just sat and did it in my pants and into a towel I had on the office chair. That was about twenty minutes ago and I was now sat with a very wet bum, the faint smell of pee in the air and Sian on the other side of the desk. ‘Yes please’, I said, ‘I would, thank you’. Sian disappeared into the kitchen along the corridor as I frantically tried to figure out a way to prevent her knowing I had just wet myself. She would work in her own office next door to mine but still she would probably chat for a minute or two when she brought the coffee back and would be certain to smell the evidence of what I had done.
‘So, what brings you in on a Saturday’, Sian asked when she came back with the coffees. She sat down on the chair on the other side of my desk and sipped at her coffee before setting it down on a coaster saying, ‘shit, that’s hot!’. I had moved the towel under me enough so that she couldn’t see it but I was still very wet underneath and the smell of pee seemed to have got more pronounced but I hoped that may have been more my paranoia than fact. Sian immediately dispelled that idea when she said casually, ‘what is that smell? It smells like pee,’ she blushed very slightly when she realised she had said that unguardedly to me - which was really a testament to how comfortable she was in my company – but it embarrassed her slightly nonetheless.
I looked her in the eye for a few moments, so long in fact that she began to look uncomfortable, and I said, ‘How long have we known each other Sian?’ She looked at me a little warily and then said, ‘About four years I think, isn’t it?’ ‘Why?’ ‘Because I need to share a personal secret with you and I need to rely on your discretion, no matter what.’ ‘No problem’, she said, ‘I think you know you can trust me, we have had a couple of times in the past where you trusted me, and backed me when it wasn’t the popular move’. ‘OK!’ I said, taking a deep breath, ‘about half an hour ago I sat here and completely wet myself. I’m still sat in wet pants now and that’s what you can smell’. Sian looked surprised, half smiled at me and then said, ‘Wow! That’s one for the books!’ ‘I take it that you did it on purpose and didn’t just have an accident?’ I smiled and said, ‘Yes it was on purpose not accidental, just how old do you think I am? It’s something that I have done for quite some time when I get a chance and I thought this morning was an ideal opportunity. I’m really sorry to embarrass you but I had no idea you were likely to come in.’ Sian said, ‘You know, we all have our personal little fantasies and quirks, it’s what makes us human and if wetting your pants does it for you it’s none of my business. I would never betray a secret like that, that would be just wrong. I have to admit though that I am a little intrigued by it though, I once saw something along those lines on Channel 4 one night but never really paid much attention, it was just another kinky thing to me but how do you hide it when you go home?’ Sian asked, ‘I mean does Sally know?’ ‘God no!’ I said, ‘she would be horrified, it’s not the sort of thing she would accept at all. It would probably be the last straw, she already complains about lots of things I do, it can be quite wearing to be honest but there you are, I married her and that’s it’. Sian sat pensive and tight lipped, clearly wanting to say something but thinking better of it. ‘I have a change of clothes in the car so I change here in the loos and then hide my wet things until I can wash them later’, I said. ‘Well thank you for being honest with me Peter, Sian said, ‘you have my word that I will never tell a soul about this’. ‘Thank you’, I said sincerely.
Sian went into her own office and we worked on until about 1 ‘o’ clock, then I got my dry clothes from the car and changed to go home. I looked in on Sian as I was leaving and asked her if she was nearly finished. ‘Yes’, she said, ‘and you look quite presentable to go home, all hidden?’ ‘Yes’, I said, ‘all normal again and thank you!’ We wished each other a good week-end (what was left of it) and I went home.
--------------
It must have been about two weeks later, it may have been three, before I expected to work the Saturday again. I very carefully checked on Sian’s workload and listened as best I could for any plans she might have outside work for the week-end. As far as I could make out she had no reason to come in to the office and I heard no plans of Harvey going to any matches so I thought it might be safe to work the Saturday as before.
I arrived at the office about 9.30 and as I pulled into the car park I could see Sian’s car already there. For a moment I thought about turning around and going back home but then thought. Why should I? I was a director of the company and not answerable to Sian so I parked the car and went in. Sian was making coffee in the little kitchen on the first floor and greeted me as I stood at the door. ‘Morning, how are you today? I imagine you would like a coffee?’ ‘Yes please’, I said, ‘at least one. How long are you in for this morning, much to do?’ ‘Actually I have quite a bit I would like to get done’, she said, ‘I would really like to complete the sales guidelines for that new range of machines we took on last month ready for the sales meeting on Monday. If you are in for your own special reasons please don’t let me spoil that, I really don’t mind, I’m fairly broad-minded.’ ‘Thank you,’ I said, smiling at her.
Sian looked at me for a moment and then said, ‘For what it’s worth I sometimes brighten up a Saturday morning if I come in for an hour or so. If it’s warm enough I just love to be in the office completely naked and because we are on the first floor no-one can see in through the windows so I spend the time with nothing on at all.’ A little shocked I said, ‘but what if someone came in?’ ‘Well’, she said, ‘I lock the outer door so they would have to ring the buzzer and I would have time to slip my things on quickly while I buzzed them in and they climbed the stairs, I’ve had a couple of close shaves though,’ she said smiling. ‘It seems we both have our Saturday secrets’, I smiled. ‘Well, your secret’s safe with me Sian’. ‘I’m glad’, she said, ‘I actually feel a little more comfortable now you know’. We went into our offices then and started work.
I actually did have work to do and got on with it. After maybe an hour and a half I decided I wanted another coffee and so I looked in on Sian and asked her if she wanted another. ‘Would love one’, she said, ‘thanks’. Sian came into the kitchen as I was pouring the coffee and said, ‘there are some nice chocolate biscuits in the cupboard if you would like one, I think we can indulge ourselves a little as it’s Saturday.’ I smiled at the veiled reference to ‘other’ indulgences and said, ‘I’m sure we can, it’s what we do on Saturdays after all.’ She laughed at that, thanked me for the coffee and took it back to her office with a couple of biscuits. Not long after that I really needed to pee. It felt strange thinking that I was going to wet myself with someone else in the office next door but Sian knew and almost expected it in a way so why not? So I placed a plastic waste sack on my chair and a small towel on top of it, sat down and waited for the next urge. It wasn’t long coming and it felt really good and even more daring today as I sat and let it start to dribble into my pants, a second or two more and I was in full flow. ‘Have you got a minute’, Sian said, walking in the door, ‘I want to check something with you.’ I smiled and said ‘Yes, sit down a minute.’ Something in my tone or posture must have alerted her because she blushed and said, ‘Oh my God! You’re doing it right now! I’m so sorry’ and turned to leave. I laughed and said, ‘It’s too late now, don’t worry just sit down, it’s not as if it’s a secret anymore, at least not from you.’ We talked about her query for about 10 minutes then she went back to her office and that was that, or at least I thought so.
About an hour later Sian called from the corridor and asked if I wanted coffee again. I said, ‘yes please, always up for a coffee.’ A few minutes later I heard the kettle switch off and went through to the kitchen to save Sian having to carry my coffee as well as hers and when I walked through the doorway She had her back to me pouring the hot water into the cups but she was stark naked, without even shoes on her feet. I stopped short and my eyes must have been bugging at what I saw, I turned to go and muttered, ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise.’ ‘It’s OK’, said Sian, turning around, ‘I really don’t mind as long as it’s only you, after all I walked in on you this morning while you were wetting so I don’t mind being open with you. It actually makes it a bit more exciting to be naked in the office when my boss is here.’ To say I was astounded would be understating the fact and I couldn’t help but look at her tits and her smooth, trimmed bush and long legs. I realised I was staring and apologised again. Sian said, ‘you had better get used to it because it may well happen any Saturday when we are here together on our own, my figure isn’t that bad and I don’t mind selected people seeing me nude.’ Her figure wasn’t bad at all and I quickly told her it was great. She said, ‘Turn around and let me see your wet patch.’ I was wearing a pair of light denim jeans and it was showing loud and clear but I turned around for her and she gasped and said, ‘Wow! That shows clearly doesn’t it? I didn’t tell you before but I have wet myself by accident a couple of times and looked just like that. When it’s an accident you are all embarrassed and just want to get home and change but I remember the one time it was late at night and I had to go again before I got home so I just sat on the train and did it there, I was a bit drunk though. I do remember the relief though, the warm feeling and the excitement of being very naughty. So I think I have some sympathy for your little fetish, particularly when you can’t share it at home.’ She gave me a very sincere smile then and walked back into her office and I had another look at her cute bottom. The next time I saw Sian that day she was dressed and ready to go home. We wished each other the best for the week-end and left.
-----------
The following Saturday morning I had a text from Sian at about 8.30 in the morning asking if I was thinking of working that morning. I replied that I was going in around 9.30 and asked if she was working too. She replied that she was going to be there at around the same time she would see me there. I had another text from her at about 9.15 just as I was leaving home, it read, ‘How about we swap fun this Sat?’. I thought about what it could possibly mean, except for the obvious, and couldn’t imagine any interpretation other than she was going to wet and she wanted me to go naked! I texted back, ‘Sure, why not?’ This major escalation took me by surprise and excited me as well, it made the whole thing a completely shared experience as opposed to two people doing their own thing and sharing the secret.
Sian’s car was already in the car park when I arrived. I went into the offices and upstairs, looked into Sian’s office and wished her good morning. She looked a little hesitant but smiled and wished me good morning then stood up and said, ‘Will this outfit be good for a wet do you think?’ She was wearing a white tank top and a light blue cotton skirt just above the knee, she looked smart and I said so then said, ‘What I’m wearing doesn’t matter today does it? It’s all coming off later.’ ‘I hope so’, said Sian. ‘Are you OK with the swap? I thought it would brighten the Saturday.’ ‘I think so,’ I said, ‘I was a bit unsure of letting you see me naked but it’s hardly as embarrassing as you knowing when I’ve wet myself so “in for a penny in for a pound”. Would you like a cup of coffee? I’ll make the first.’ ‘Yes please,’ said Sian, ‘I had a cup at home but another wouldn’t hurt if I’m to pee my pants later.’ I made coffees and we spent the next hour and a half working. At about 11 I called Sian on the internal phone and asked if she could spare me a minute. When she came into my office I was looking through the window at the car park. ‘Nice bum’, she said, as she saw me naked for the first time. A little self-consciously I turned around and she saw me full frontal. She smiled and said cheekily, ‘Not bad for an older guy’. I laughed and said, ‘speak quietly, beware of sleeping giants!’ Sian laughed at that and went back into her office. Maybe half an hour later she looked in and suggested another coffee. I said, ‘thanks, that sounds nice, if you make them I’ll fetch mine in a minute.’ When I heard the kettle click off I went through to the kitchen and Sian had her back to me pouring the coffee. There was a large round, very wet, patch on the back of her skirt where she had obviously wet herself sitting down at her desk and only a few minutes ago because there were still a few drips on the hem at the bottom. The wet patch had two rounded tops where her buttocks curved to her back then went almost straight down to the hem. ‘Wow! ‘I said, that’s a major wetting, your skirt’s still dripping a bit.’ ‘I know’ she said, ‘I was desperate, I was trying to wait until I had finished the quote I was on but I just couldn’t so I sat and did it in my knickers. It felt fantastic after holding on so long to just let it happen and the hot wet feeling is quite a turn on isn’t it?’ I was struggling to keep as calm as I could so that I didn’t end up showing the erection which I could feel imminent. I said, ‘It looks fantastic, I’m sure it feels wonderful.’
Sian said, I’m going to wash my skirt here, it will dry in an hour or so on the radiator, then I can go home and Harvey won’t know.’ I asked, ‘what about your knickers?’ ‘I’ll take them off and go home without them on, that’s exciting too, Smart and demure on the outside and a bare bum under my skirt. I’ll put my knicks in a plastic bag.’ With that, she casually took off her skirt and put it in the sink to wash. Her knickers were full briefs and in a shade of cotton that almost matched her skirt. They had a soaking wet patch nearly matching the one on her skirt showing a much darker blue than the rest of the material. I said, ‘Those knickers are a good match, did you buy them and the skirt together?’ ‘No,’ she said, ‘But I always try to get my knickers to match so when I wear short skirts and anyone sees up my skirt they can’t easily see my knickers.’ I left her washing her skirt and went back to my office sporting a growing erection. When we finished for the day at about 1 p.m. Sian came to say ‘bye’. She was wearing her (now dried) skirt and looked much the same as first thing that morning. She half turned and said, ‘Do I look OK ?’ ‘You look great’, I replied, at which she lifted her skirt at the back and showed me her bare bottom, smiled and said, ‘See no knicks.’
------------
Our Saturdays ‘together’ became quite the norm and for the next month, or so, we were in almost every other Saturday. Sometimes we would do our own thing and other times we would either both wet or both go nude. We became very comfortable with each other and although I say so myself we were very professional at all other times and no-one in the office had a clue about our ‘special relationship’.
Then, the lady who was employed to do all our accounts and wages work told us that she would have to leave with short notice. This had been expected for some time because she was suffering with a condition that was worsening while she waited for the operation she needed and despite battling on bravely and in good humour, she just couldn’t carry on. This meant that we would have to find a replacement very quickly which we managed to do. Heather was a newly qualified accounting technician and seemed perfectly capable of taking on the role. Heather was appointed but had asked if she could be allowed to work Saturdays to catch up on the considerable backlog that had built up over the last month or two. The other directors were happy to allow this but asked if I could keep a watching brief anytime I was in on Saturdays as their week-ends were fully booked up. I said I was happy to do that but suggested Heather only be given a key for the front office door and her own office, not the full set that I and a few others had. This was agreed and so Heather was set to work Saturdays until further notice.
The day after this was arranged Sian came into my office and closed the door asking if she could have a word. I agreed and she said, ‘were you a party to this arrangement for Heather to work Saturdays?’ ‘I was’, I said, ‘I couldn’t really object without it looking very suspicious could I? I don’t like it any more than you do but we do need the accounts up to date, there’s a VAT return due at the end of the month.’ Sian looked quite miffed and said. ‘I thought you enjoyed our special Saturdays.’ ‘Sian’, I said, ‘I enjoy our Saturday fun as much as you do and I’ve really come to look forward to the week-ends but I don’t think we will have to wait long before things will be back to normal and we can indulge ourselves again’. She smiled at the word ’indulge’, I had used it deliberately to take her back to the early days of our ‘fun’. ‘OK’, she said, ‘but I will miss the weekends until Heather has caught up’. ‘You and me both’, I said.
Two weeks went by and they seemed to drag without the promise of a little ‘naughty’ fun on the Saturdays. Then on the next Saturday at about 10.30 I got a text from Sian saying that she was in the office and that Heather was working too but that she had big news to share. She would see me Monday. I couldn’t wait until the Monday morning but despite my texting her a few times Sian refused to be drawn, telling me to be patient. Monday came along and after everyone had settled down to the day Sian came into my office shutting the door behind her. ‘Guess what I saw on Saturday?’ She said. Then answered her own question with the words, ‘A dummy! On Heather’s desk, she moved it quickly when I went into her office but it was definitely a dummy. And that’s not all, I heard a slight rustling when she moved. I think our Heather is an AB!’ ‘A what?’ I said. ‘An adult baby’, said Sian, ‘you know nappies and dummies and all that, that’s what they like and I think she was ‘indulging’ like we do.’ My Mind was racing at the news and I said, ‘we need to catch her out somehow and once we tell her that her secret is safe with us we could invite her to join us on Saturdays. We could have a ‘Saturday Club’. ‘I love that idea’ said Sian. ‘Leave it to me and I’ll see what I can do’.
By the following Saturday Sian and I had sketched out a simple plan. We would both work the Saturday. She would attempt to catch Heather with her dummy in her mouth or at least on the desk and then discreetly approach her and tell her that we knew. At which point she would suggest we all had a coffee in the kitchen and bring Heather in there where I would be already. I would have a moderate wet patch clearly showing on my pants and we would confide in her and invite her to join ‘The Saturday Club’. The plan worked like clockwork and when Sian brought Heather into the kitchen she immediately saw my wet pants and blurted out, ‘you as well!’ Then Sian told her the story of how it had all begun for us and how we enjoyed working Saturdays, including the swap system we had adopted. Heather was a bit hesitant at first which was only to be expected but once we repeated the fun we had on Saturdays while still managing to get things done she said, ‘It’s the only time I can really feel secure and free to be myself because I live at home with my mum and dad and so I can’t do it at home. Being able to work Saturdays here was like a dream come true. How long has the Saturday club been going?’ Sian looked at me and I said, ‘about three months I suppose’ and smiled at Sian who nodded. Sian said, ‘well you two have ‘indulged’ your fantasies, I want to play too’ and without any hesitation she casually took all her clothes off and placed them on a chair. ‘that’s better’, she said. I had not grown any less excited at the sight of her completely naked and I turned to go back to my office with a growing erection, the start of which was not missed by Heather who turned to Sian and said. ‘I can see I’m going to enjoy this club. When can I become a full member?’
The Saturday Club ( Part Two )
It was unanimously decided that Heather should be considered a full member once she had indulged in the play already enjoyed by Peter and Sian so the Saturday following her initiation she went into work dressed as she would for a normal day in the office. She looked very smart in a trouser suit with the hint of a stripe and shoes with a small heel – every inch the management aspirant. At around 10.30 she called to Sian and Peter to say she would make coffee and they heard her in the little kitchen busying herself with the kettle and mugs. A few minutes later Sian heard a, ‘Wow!’ from Peter’s office and hurried in there to see Heather standing in front of Peter’s desk stark naked. She turned to face Sian as she came through the door displaying a very slim body with a neatly trimmed bush of dark hair. Peter was struggling with a serious erection and had to sit down again quickly in order to hide it. Heather left the office and returned a moment later with Sian’s coffee then said with a smile, ‘one more task to perform next Saturday and I can collect my membership card, yes?’ Peter and Sian laughed at that and agreed.
Peter and Sian spoke during the week and decided that as Heather’s final performance would be to wet herself on Saturday they would also join her in the wetting and make it a shared experience for her, thereby confirming her admittance to full ‘membership’.
Saturday arrived and they all arrived at more or less the same time. Sian was wearing jeans and a woollen top, Peter had dressed as usual in casual trousers and an open-necked shirt while Heather was wearing a polo neck cotton top and a knee-length denim skirt. Heather greeted them both very cheerily and said she was looking forward to the day. After a quick cup of coffee they all went about the work they had planned. Sian made another coffee for them all at about 11 and confided to Peter that she wasn’t sure she could wait too long before peeing. They had spoken briefly about letting Heather set the timing for the day’s fun and that they would all wet at around the same time. Peter admitted that he too was more than ready. About 20 minutes later Heather tapped on Peter’s door and said, ‘I think it might be time, I’m getting desperate. If I call for Sian can we all go out into the car park and sit on the wall?’ Peter was a little shocked at that as he had never wet outside away from home before. There was a low brick wall surrounding the three sides of the car park, two sides divided the car park from the offices on each side and the third side ran along the pavement of the road serving the small trading estate. Heather saw his hesitation and said, ‘c’mon, it’ll be a buzz doing it where we could be seen’. ‘Buzz’ wasn’t quite the word he would have used to describe her idea but said, ‘OK! see what Sian says’. Sian was up for the challenge so they all went out into the car park and sat in the sun together on the wall on one side of the car park. It was reasonably quiet and only a single car went by in the first minute or so. Sian said, ‘I’m doing it, I just can’t wait anymore.’ As she spoke a mini river ran down the wall and started to cross the car park as she wet her jeans. Peter started next and as he peed his trousers got soaked all down the legs and stated to drip off his thighs to the floor running across the car park as well. Heather sat in line with the wall and drew her knees up to her chin. Peter and Sian could see right up her skirt and watched fascinated as Heather’s pastel blue knickers turned dark blue as they got soaked in her pee and then continued to watch as her skirt absorbed the piddle until it finally dribbled down the wall to run across the car park. They all watched as the three streams of pee meandered across the first couple of metres or so and then merged into one before reaching a small depression in the tarmac and stopping to form a minor puddle.
At that moment a dark grey Mercedes swept into the car park and pulled up in one of the parking spaces near to the door. It was Don, the Finance Director and Heather’s boss. Sian said, ‘Oh Shit!’ Don got out of his car and waving to them said, ‘Hi! Heather could you spare me a minute please?’ Heather called, ‘Sure, give me a moment I’ll be in’. She stood up and started walking towards the door. Peter and Sian could see the soaked wet patch on the back of her skirt as she walked, it was clearly obvious that she had just peed herself, the wet patch covered her bum and went down to the hem at the back. Sian looked at Peter aghast and said, ‘What do we do now?’ He said, ‘we should go back in and change quietly and I’ll go and talk to Don and see if I can rescue Heather.’ They did that and Peter went into Don’s office, which was open and stood just inside the door. Heather was standing facing Don across his desk and they were chatting about what he wanted Heather to do first thing Monday morning. She was to close an account and chase hard for the outstanding payment as he had heard the customer was having difficulties. From where Peter was standing he could see the large wet patch on Heather’s skirt but from Don’s viewpoint it was invisible. Peter found it a little surreal, Don talking normally and Heather standing there in soaked skirt and knickers. After a few moments Don had finished talking to Heather and Peter was able to position himself so that Heather could escape behind his back without Don seeing her soaked skirt.
About 20 minutes later Don called out a general, ‘Good bye, see you Monday,’ and was gone. As his car left the car park Peter went into the corridor and called out, ‘Meeting in the kitchen !’ Sian and Heather were there in moments, Sian still looking a bit shocked and Heather was quite keyed up but still wearing her wet skirt. She gave Peter a hug and said, ‘God! You saved my bacon there thank you so much. I knew Don couldn’t see anything all the time I was facing him but I was dreading turning round to come out of his office.’ ‘Well’, Peter said smiling, ‘you wanted a buzz, was that buzz enough for you?’ Heather replied, ‘That was quite enough excitement for one day but it was enjoyable to be very nearly caught and knowing that all the time I was talking to Don I was in wet knickers, that was a charge.’ Sian said that she thought they would need to be a little more careful in the future if Don made a habit of calling in on a Saturday but Heather said, ‘It was a one-off he said, just to catch me before Monday as he will not be in the office first thing and he wanted this done asap and as he knew I like to work Saturday mornings to catch up he called in on his way somewhere else. Interesting though, do you know what he said to me? He blamed me mildly for not noticing the account was a bit further in arrears than we like but he wasn’t overly mad or anything. He just said if it happened again he might have to pretend to slap my legs!’ ‘he likes you’ Sian said, ‘that’s clear, watch him Heather!’ ‘Oh he’s alright’ Heather replied, ‘he flirts very gently but I think it’s only a joke, if I took him up on it he would panic like mad!’ They all laughed and Heather went to change. She had brought jeans to change into which was why she couldn’t do a quick change before talking to Don, a change from skirt to jeans would have been too obvious.
The following two Saturdays passed without anything to spoil the ‘Saturday Club’ activities and by the second Saturday things were back to normal. The Tuesday following Don called Heather into his office to discuss the debtors position and a couple of accounts looked to be getting worse so Don asked Heather to tighten up on them a little. Heather was happy to agree the measures he suggested then said, ‘I’ll get on that right away Don, I don’t want to risk a leg slapping do I?’ Don laughed and agreed but with a wry smile on his face. Later that week Heather had to admit a mistake to Don in one of the accounts reports she had given him and handed him the correct version. He looked at her under his eyebrows and said, ‘that’s twice this week Heather.’ He got up from his desk and came round to her, bent down behind her and smacked his hands together beside her calves. ‘Let that be a lesson to you’ he said. Heather gave him a mock ‘little girl’ look and said, ‘Yes Sir!’ The following Monday Don had to go looking for Heather in her office because the morning Bank report he required each morning by 10 a.m. wasn’t on his desk. Heather explained that she had been held up with an usually heavy load of mail and then a couple of calls from suppliers looking for payment. Don said, ‘make this a priority please and let me have it as soon as possible.’ He left her office abruptly leaving her just a little miffed that he hadn’t shown any consideration for the workload she had that morning. Ten minutes later she went into his office with the Bank report and placed it on his desk. ‘Thank you,‘ said Don. ‘I don’t like it to be this late, you know how important it is that we keep on top of the cash-flow.’ Heather apologised again but without making reference to what had held her up that morning and went back to her own office. Later that day Don went into Heather’s office with a cup of coffee as an attempt at conciliation saying, ‘Heather, I was a little bit short this morning, sorry. I have always been a bit of a control freak I suppose but I shouldn’t take it out on you, I know you work hard.’ Heather, by now well over her pique replied, ‘I know that Don, I think we work well together most of the time so forget about it. I’m just glad not to get my legs slapped!’ ‘That could be arranged said Don with a slight smile, ‘stand up’. As heather stood he went round to her side of the desk, bent down and playfully but gently slapped the back of her legs just above the knee. Heather let out a little squeal partly surprise and partly because it smarted slightly. She said, ‘If that’s as bad as it gets I think I could cope with that now and again.’
Over the next couple of weeks Heather received no less than four slaps to the legs. The last couple of times she had been wearing loose, flowing style skirts that were a few inches above her knee and Don had slapped her a little higher each time. The last time only just short of her buttocks. Finally, Don arranged to stay a little later one evening and asked Heather if she would stay back for a few minutes to discuss her pay rise, due at the end of the month. Heather, well aware of how much bolder Don had become, agreed to stay on but only for a strict half hour as she was joining a college friend for a drink. Don started the conversation with the point that a pay rise had to be commensurate with her performance to date and told her that while her performance was well above expected she had made a few mistakes over the last few weeks. Heather agreed but said that she was learning fast and that the odd mistake was inevitable. Don told her that he wanted to give her the highest pay rise he could for her level but for that her performance needed to be flawless up to now. Heather looked a little crestfallen at that because she knew she deserved the top salary for the next pay grade. Don said, ‘tell you what, we could offset the few errors by punishing you for them and wiping the slate clean, then I could give you the best pay rate. How does that sound?’ Heather asked, ‘what sort of punishment,’ a vague idea already forming in her mind. ‘Just a little bit more than slapped legs’, said Don. ‘Then we could turn the page and you would be on the best rate I can give you. ‘OK!’ said Heather, ‘let’s do it.’ Don got her to stand up then bend over his desk. When she was in that position he lifted her skirt completely over her back exposing her pale lemon knickers. He then proceeded to slap her bottom quite hard. After a few slaps Heather could feel her bottom getting a little numb and her buttocks showing from her knickers glowed a little red. She was surprised to find that it actually excited her and she felt herself squirming slightly with pleasure. For the last few slaps Don smacked her harder and as he did it made her wet herself until she was dribbling down her legs almost to the floor. Don didn’t notice the few trickles down her legs, or if he did he said nothing. He promised her the new pay rate would be effective from the first of the next month, congratulated her and they both went home.
The next Saturday Heather told Peter and Sian what had happened and Sian said, ‘I told you to watch him, he’ll be getting your knickers off next!’ Heather said, ‘I don’t feel threatened by him at all, I just think he genuinely likes spanking, it’s clearly his ‘thing’. Can we talk about admitting him to the Saturday Club? The truth is I actually like it when he smacks me, am I weird?’ Peter said, ‘I know a lot of people are into corporal punishment, it’s as popular as the other things we do. Do you think your liking for it is related to your AB feelings? ‘Probably,’ Heather admitted thoughtfully. ‘I love the way you guys have accepted me and I feel very comfortable doing the things we do with each other. I would never in a million years believed that I would enjoy wetting myself or being naked with my work colleagues but now I get a great kick from it, perhaps it’s the naughtiness of it all that excites me. I would love us to get Don to join but it must be your decision, I’m only the newcomer.’ Sian replied, ‘nonsense Heather, you are very much a full ‘member’ and we will all vote and a majority should decide, you OK with that Peter?’ Peter thought about it for a minute and then said, ‘absolutely about Heather being a full voting member, I’m just not so sure about admitting Don. The more we have the more likely we are to be found out.’ Sian said, ‘you have a point there, Is Don married Peter?’ ‘No, divorced about 4 years ago,’ replied Peter, ‘so there is no one to upset there. I’m the one at worst risk but Sally would be glad to be rid of me I think and if she found out about the Saturday Club she would be almost grateful for the excuse to divorce me.’ Tears welled up in Sian’s eyes as she hugged Peter and said, ‘I would take you on tomorrow Peter,’ and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you’, said Peter, ‘I think you probably understand me better then Sally, at least I wouldn’t have to hide my wet pants!’ they both laughed then Heather said, ‘Ok you two, can we get back to the business in hand.’
Peter said, ‘in principle I have no objection to Don joining the ‘club’, I’ve known him for years and he’s a good guy but I never knew of this side of him so that would be new to us as friends to share that intimacy if you like. Let me get a chance to talk to him, maybe over a pint and then we’ll see.’ The two girls were fine with that and Peter promised to speak to Don as soon as he could. Wednesday evening was Sally’s night out with the girls and Peter normally stayed home but he rang Don and asked if he fancied a drink. Don agreed and they met at a local pub. After some normal chat and a bit of ‘shop’ talk Peter said, ‘Don, I want to ask your opinion.’ ‘OK’, Said Don, ‘fire away’. Peter said, ‘You know that Sally and I are very much apart in most things and the marriage is just waiting for an excuse to give up altogether? If I told you that I have a few little foibles that I enjoy indulging in with a couple of friends would you be happy to keep that confidential? ‘Foibles?’ said Don, ‘You’re not gay are you? Peter laughed and said, ‘not at all Don, I mean a bit of naughty play now and then’. Don, who was far from stupid, looked at Peter almost suspiciously and said, ‘who are these friends, anyone I might know?’ Peter said, ‘let me tell you a little snippet of conversation I heard between the girls in the kitchen the other day.’ Heather was talking to Sian and all I heard was, ‘a proper smack but I got the full pay rise’. Don was immediately on the defensive and bridled a little as he said to Peter, ‘I was only trying my best to help Heather get the top rate, she deserves it, but if I went a little too far I’m sorry and I hope this won’t go any further, it was a little horseplay that got out of hand.’ ‘You remember we started off talking about confidentiality’, said Peter, ‘well this is where I was going. We both have reason to keep each other’s confidences and if you can promise me that, I have a proposition for you.’
To say Don was surprised would be an understatement and he said a trifle suspiciously, ‘what sort of proposition?’ ‘Come along to the office Saturday morning’, said Peter, ‘and it will be a little clearer.’ Peter would not be drawn further on the matter and despite his probing questions Don agreed to turn up at the office the following Saturday.
The following Saturday Peter, Sian and Heather were in the office by 9 a.m. and by the time Don arrived they had made good progress on the work to be done. Don went straight to Peter’s office and said, ‘OK, I’ve been very patient now what sort of proposition do you have for me?’ ‘Let’s go and get a cup of Coffee’, Peter suggested, ‘and I’ll explain.’ Once they were in the kitchen Peter called Sian and a moment later Sian appeared in the doorway stark naked and said, ‘Hi Don’. Don’s eyes widened in surprise but before he could say anything Heather walked in wearing a very short skirt, a dummy in her mouth and with a rustle of plastic. She smiled at him and said, ‘I’ve been a naughty girl Don’. Don heard a patter on the floor and turned to see Peter had completely wet himself and was still dribbling onto the floor. Peter smiled and said, ‘welcome to the Saturday Club Don!’
----------------------------------------------
© Roger Ireland 2020
Edited May 1, 2020 by Roger Ireland
(see edit history) |
Can anybody help identify where this story came from and provide a link to it? It's a really great story.
Robert, a friend of mine, related this story to me a few weeks ago over a drink, when he was already a little drunk, and I thought you might like to hear it, so I made sure to press him for the details. He had been looking for a job over summer, to get some cash ready for his second year at college, and the opportunity came in the form of the Daley family. The Daleys were from England and had been friends of Robert’s parents since they moved in about five years ago, and so Robert was very familiar with their daughter Susanne. Susanne was 18, almost 19, and was growing up to be a very attractive young woman. I was introduced to her myself at around the same time, and she was quite striking in that she was so different to most girls of that age. I remember when I was 18 all the girls around me were dressed up like whores, in the most revealing clothes they could find and with their hair died blond and their faces covered in makeup, but that’s not how Susanne was at all. Her face was the gentle sort, with beautiful eyes like a deer and always a little smile on her face. Her brown hair only went down to chin length and hung down with a little natural flick forwards at the bottom, and a fringe that nearly reached her eyes but didn’t quite. Her body was coming on beautifully when I met her, you know, she wasn’t going to be the model type, not too sexy like the girls on TV, but perfect anyway with all the right curves in all the right places, and the right weight as well, she wasn’t stupidly skinny but she certainly wasn’t even approaching overweight. Her skin was pale and smooth-looking. In fact this was a girl you wanted to spend time with because she looked great and she was great to talk to as well, with her innocent little voice.
Anyway, Susanne wasn’t the reason why Robert had been invited over that day. In fact it was her younger sister, whose name I can’t really remember, I think it was Beckie. She was only six, and as Susie wasn’t sixteen yet her parents thought it would be better to call Robert over to babysit for the weekend while they went out to visit relatives in Canada. They didn’t want to take the kids, because it had been so long since they’d been able to have a holiday together and with Robert available it seemed like a good idea to leave them with him.
So Robert arrived just as the Daleys were leaving, they were getting a bit anxious in case they missed their flight, but they got out on time in the end. Robert had brought a crate of beers for himself (he knew the Daleys wouldn’t mind), and so that Beckie would take to him he’d brought a big box full of small bottles of cherryade, her favourite drink.
When he got in he said hi to Susanne first. He said she had just finished getting dressed when he arrived, as it was about eight in the morning on a Saturday, so he met her as she came down the stairs. She was wearing a T-shirt with a large flower on the front (although he told me the T-shirt was getting a bit old so was a little tight, showing off her round breasts quite nicely, they were the sort that stayed in place and didn’t sink down), and a grey ruffled skirt that came down to just above her knees. She was looking really nice, he told me, because he’s always had a secret thing for Susie. He never acted on it of course, she was just a little too young still, but it was obvious to anyone who met her that she probably had a lot of admirers, and I can say that from personal experience.
Robert found Beckie bouncing up and down in the front room, with a video on. It was something like Barney, I think he said, and all the kids on the TV were jumping as well, it was part of a song. When Beckie saw the Cherryade she went straight for it, and Susie asked if she could have some as well. Robert told her to help herself, as there was a lot of it there (he’d got it cheap from a friend who worked at a department store), and then went upstairs to use the bathroom, as he hadn’t been yet that day.
There was something up with the bathroom door as he opened it, it made a sort of heavy clicking sound. He had been to the Daleys’ loads of times and it hadn’t done that before. Still, he ignored it and carried on. When he’d relieved himself he went to leave, but the door seemed to be jammed. He pulled it as hard as he could and it eventually burst open onto his toe. He left the room, swearing quietly, and again he had to really pull as hard as he could to close the door behind him, even harder than he’d had to to open it.
When he got downstairs he was surprised to find that Susie had actually drank more of the cherryade than Beckie had, Beckie was still on her first bottle but Susie had finished one and was half-way through the next. She waved to him brightly as he came and sat down.
‘Are you staying over tonight?’ she asked. Robert nodded.
‘Yeah, your parents won’t be back ‘till Sunday night.’
‘Cool. Does that mean we can watch whatever we want on TV?’
Robert laughed. He thought he might as well be nice, give her a treat just for tonight. ‘Sure, why not. It’s only one night. Not her though.’ He pointed to Beckie, who was now completely engrossed in Barney, with the now empty bottle of cherryade still angled as if she was drinking from it.
Robert and Susie sat for a while watching Beckie’s videos. They were quite funny. Susie got through another five bottles of cherryade before Robert noticed and told her to save some for later. Susie giggled and put down the bottle, then came and sat on the sofa next to Robert. Holding down her skirt so it didn’t ride up her legs, Susie changed position so her legs were folded over to the side of her and sat like that for a few moments. Then she suddenly went to stand up.
‘Nope, it’s no good,’ she said with a laugh, ‘I have to use the bathroom.’
‘Seeya,’ Robert said, watching her as she went out of the room and up the stairs. He liked the way she said "bathroom" even though she was British. He remembered how he always picked up phrases from his friends when he was her age. Her footsteps stopped for about half a minute, then started back down the stairs again. She sat down next to Robert again.
‘That was quick,’ said Robert, ‘did you go?’
‘No,’ Susie replied, ‘the door’s jammed.’
‘Did you try pulling it real hard? That’s how I got it to open.’
‘I tried, but it didn’t budge. Never mind.’ Susie swung her legs onto the sofa under her again. Robert returned his attention to the TV. Right now Beckie was watching a cartoon about a bear having a party. After a few minutes, Susie turned to Robert and said, ‘Do you think you could try the bathroom door? You’re probably stronger than me.’
Robert noticed that as well as having her legs under her, Susie had them squeezed slightly together. He grinned. ‘Sure, I managed it last time.’
‘I have to go too,’ Beckie said, turning off the TV. ‘Can I go too?’
‘Sure you can,’ said Robert, and turned off the video tape for her. He started up the stairs and Beckie followed, running, with Susie behind her. Robert reached the bathroom door, gripped the handle, and pushed it as hard as he could. The clicking sound came again, quieter this time, and it sounded as if he had dislodged something in the hinges. The door then opened, and Susie started walking to the bathroom.
‘I have to go,’ Beckie complained, ‘can I go first Susie?’
Susie looked down at her with a slightly annoyed expression. ‘Sure, of course you can Beckie,’ she said, ‘go ahead.’ Beckie ran into the bathroom and, with Robert’s help, shut the door. Susie leant against the wall watching the bathroom door. Robert noticed her bob down slightly, for just a moment, with one knee bent a little. He wondered how much she really needed to go. It seemed like she would’ve liked to have said no to Beckie, but was too polite to do so in front of him.
Robert turned away from the door and made sounds with his cheeks, trying not to hear the sound of Beckie peeing into the toilet, and Susie did the same. They heard the water running as Beckie washed her hands (the Daleys always made sure she did that), and heard the toilet flushing, and then the handle on the outside turned as Beckie tried to get out. But, of course, she wasn’t strong enough.
‘I’m stuck!’ she shouted through the door. Laughing, Robert went up to the door and gave it a push.
It didn’t open. He pushed it again and still, it didn’t move. ‘Dammit, it’s really stuck,’ he said, pushing against the door with his shoulder. He glanced over at Susie, who looked a little worried.
‘You mean it’s - she’s trapped in there?’
‘No, no, we’ll get her out.’ Robert kept pushing on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Susie let out an audible sigh and pushed herself away from the wall, frowning as she walked over to the other side of the stairs and rested her chest on the railing there, looking down to the front room. Her right leg left the ground for a few moments.
‘Are you opening the door?’ Beckie called from inside the bathroom.
‘I’m trying, honey,’ Robert called back, and, taking a slight run-up, crashed against the door. Nothing happened.
‘Isn’t there another way of opening it?’ Susie asked suddenly, and stood next to Robert, her back perfectly straight and her hands gripped together behind her back.
‘I don’t know,’ Robert said. He felt sorry for Susie, she obviously needed to use the bathroom, and he knew she would feel helpless if she could only watch him struggle against the door. ‘Do you wanna try?’
‘Yeah,’ Susie said, and began to wrestle with the doorhandle herself. She pushed, and pushed again, and then with a sudden effort that made Robert jump she bashed the whole side of her body against the door, but it still didn’t open. She sighed angrily with a pained expression on her face and stamped one foot (in annoyance or desperation, Robert wondered), then returned to the balcony railing.
‘Help!’ Beckie’s voice cried, muffled through the door, ‘I’m stuck here forever!’
‘No you’re not,’ Robert called, struggling against the door again, ‘we’re gonna get you out, you’ll be okay.’ He hoped Beckie wouldn’t do anything silly like turn on one of the faucets while she was in there. The last thing he needed was a flood on top of a trapped child, but if he told her not to do it it might give her the idea where before she hadn’t thought of it. But, at least he had all of today and Sunday to figure out a way of getting her free if brute force didn’t work on the door. But then there was Susie. She was too well raised to go in the garden, and too shy to go and ask the houses next door if she could use theirs, and he knew the house didn’t have a toilet downstairs either. He looked around at Susie, who had her eyes closed now and was standing a distance away from the railing, bent over and holding it with her hands, putting all her weight on the railing. She looked quite desperate, she must have been already needing to go quite badly when they were watching the videos downstairs. ‘It’s true though,’ Robert thought to himself, ‘when you’re at home you don’t always go to the bathroom until you really need to, because it’s always there when you want it, you don’t have to think ahead I guess.’
Susie let go of the railing and put both her hands firmly down my her sides, pressing onto her legs. She gave two little jumps and bit her lip. For a moment, Robert felt a twinge of excitement watching her. He wasn’t sure whether it was sexual excitement or the wondering would she make it? He thought it might be fun to make it a little more interesting.
He walked over to Susie who, knowing Robert was watching her now, stood still. ‘I’m a little worried about Beckie in there,’ he said. ‘If she messes with the faucets there could be water running everywhere.’ In his mind he gave a broad grin as he saw Susie’s expression waver, she was obviously uncomfortable with the thought of running water.
‘Perhaps you should tell her not to,’ Susie suggested.
‘I’ll do that,’ Robert smiled, ‘for all we know she could be in there for hours.’
As he turned away he heard a rustling sound - Susie was fidgeting again.
‘Hey Beckie,’ he called, ‘make sure you don’t play with the faucets okay?’
‘Why?’ came Beckie’s response, just as Robert had expected, and immediately the sound of flowing water could be heard. Susie looked around with a frown on her face, trying not to catch Robert’s eye. She bit her lip.
‘Hey Beckie, I said don’t!’
‘It’s OK,’ Beckie called back, ‘nothing bad happened. See?’ The sound got louder - she had turned on another faucet. Robert turned to face Susie again, and was just quick enough to see her hand whip back to her side from between her legs.
‘Don’t worry, she won’t be in any danger. I’ll make her stop.’ He turned back to the door, trying not to laugh. ‘Beckie, you gotta stop that.’
‘Why?’
‘Just do it, Beckie.’
The water stopped. ‘Sorry,’ said Beckie.
‘It’s okay, just don’t do it again.’
‘Get me out!’
‘I’m trying. I’m gonna go look for something to help open to door, I’ll be right back okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘Be good.’
‘Okay.’
Robert walked over to Susie again so Beckie wouldn’t hear. ‘Susie, does your dad have any tools?’
‘I think so,’ Susie said, her voice a whisper.
‘Where does he keep ‘em?’
‘I’m not sure, in the garage, I think,’ she said, a troubled look on her face as she struggled to stand still.
Robert started down the stairs and asked Susie to come with him so she could show him where she thought they were. In actual fact it was because he didn’t want to miss any of the show. The two of them went through the house, but Robert soon noticed that Susie had stopped. He looked around behind him and there was Susie, standing perfectly still and upright, her bottom lip firmly clamped under her teeth, with an anxious fear in her eyes.
‘What’s the matter, Susie?’ he said, genuinely concerned. Had he gone too far?
‘Nothing,’ she said softly, ‘I’m just looking for something.’ She began to look around her, pretending there genuinely was something she’d lost. Robert smiled. If she was going to play this game he wasn’t going to stop her. He carried on walking, and she called to him that she’d follow along in a moment. He thought it was a shame to miss whatever she was doing that he shouldn’t see, but there was something he needed to do.
He hurried into the garage and immediately spotted Mr Daley’s tools. They were all hanging up neatly on the wall under a window. He grabbed as many as he could and shoved them behind a large wardrobe, which was presumably there in storage. Susie came in, walking slowly, and gave a weak smile.
‘Did you find it?’ Robert asked.
‘Uh... yeah...’
‘Good.’ Robert didn’t ask her what it was she’d been looking for. He didn’t want to be completely inhumane. After all, the bathroom door really was stuck, that wasn’t his doing. ‘Where are these tools?’
Susie’s eyes went straight to the wall, and her face fell when she saw there were no tools there apart from a hammer and a few screws and nails in tubs. ‘I don’t know...’ she said. Suddenly she seemed distressed and pointed wildly to the other end of the room. ‘I think there are some over there,’ she whimpered. Robert could see she really needed to go and wanted him to look away. He continued to look at her for a few moments before he followed her direction.
‘Over here?’
‘Yeah...’
Robert stood there for a while facing the direction she had pointed, but he wasn’t looking there, he was secretly watching the window, in which he could see a clear reflection of Susanne. She had her hand rammed tightly between her legs and was bent over at the waist with her teeth clenched. She was losing it. Robert could see from the way she was dancing her legs that she didn’t have long left before she would wet her panties, so it was probably time to ease off and actually try to help her. Without waiting for her to get herself under control, Robert turned around, deliberately slowly so she would have time to let go of herself.
‘I can’t see any,’ he said.
‘I must’ve been mistaken,’ Susie said quickly. Robert began to look around the room now, pretending not to know where the tools were. ‘No, I can’t find any,’ he lied, ‘let’s go back upstairs and see what we can do. We’ve been pushing it for so long the door’s probably weakened a little now.’
‘Okay, but let’s hurry,’ Susie blurted, without thinking.
‘Why?’
‘I’m... worried about Beckie,’ she replied, jigging up and down slightly.
‘Let’s go then,’ Robert said, and added, ‘you lead the way.’ Susie simply nodded, and set off, walking slowly. Robert chose not to comment on this. He noticed, as she walked up the stairs, that all the time she was keeping the tops of her pretty legs pressed together as she walked.
When they got to the top of the stairs, Robert went straight for the bathroom door, and began to push on it again, putting all the weight he could on the handle.
Suddenly from somewhere around the hinges there came the same deep clunk, the sound he had heard last time which meant the door was no longer jammed, but this time it was very quiet. He stopped putting all his weight on the door and pushed it very slightly. It moved. The door was no longer stuck. He looked over to Susie - she hadn’t noticed.
‘Are you getting any closer to opening the door?’ she pleaded, looking up at him with her big eyes and twisting a strand of her hair around one finger.
‘Uh... no, sorry Susie, she’ll be stuck a little longer until we can think of something else to try.’
‘Oh...’
Robert wondered whether he should have said that. Was he taking this too far? Perhaps he was, but this was all very entertaining. He could see her legs squeezing together again and again, and occasionally she jogged her weight from one foot to the other and back. He wondered whether she thought he could see this, and decided she probably didn’t.
‘What should I do?’ Beckie called.
‘Nothing honey, you sit still and don’t do anything, okay?’ Robert wasn’t going to take any chances and let the infant open the door herself.
‘Okay!’ Beckie sounded even a little excited by this adventure now.
Robert looked back to Susie. She had her eyes tightly shut now, with the hair bitten tightly in her mouth as well as her bottom lip, with one fist clenched against her side. The other hand had grabbed the front part of her skirt from behind, and was pulling it back so it pushed up against her. She pulled tighter, and Robert turned away when he noticed it was so tight he could see where the material was pressing around the folds of her labia.
He coughed, and in the corner of his eye saw Susie let go of the skirt. ‘Susie, we need to think of something. Let’s sit down on the stairs and think.’
‘OK,’ she breathed, obviously trying with all her might not to lose control. As Robert passed her he saw her dance on the spot, from foot to foot, her cheeks flushed red. She followed and sat down heavily on the stairs, but she continually changed position. Robert sat there with a frown on his face, pretending to be thinking, but instead he was having a lot of fun looking back at the desperate Susie every now and then, and watching her try to remain still.
Suddenly she stood up, and marched quickly around the corner into one of the upstairs rooms where she thought Robert couldn’t see her. She forgot about the large mirror that sat on the opposite wall. Robert tried not to laugh out loud with delight as he watched her hand grab straight between her legs again, and her legs working furiously up and down. She was bent double now, rocking back and forth with her back. Her eyes were closed, her lip was still bitten, and occasional short breaths seemed to be escaping from her mouth, he could hear every one. He watched her fingers as they pressed with all their might, continually changing position and pushing up harder than before. Susie was desperate, and he’d never seen anyone so desperate before. She wasn’t just desperate in the way that people think of when they say they’re desperate for the toilet, she was desperate in the classic sense - she had to get to the toilet right now, or she wouldn’t make it. If she didn’t get into that bathroom at exactly that moment, Robert knew, it would be too late.
It was time to have some fun.
‘I’ve thought of something, Susie,’ he said, standing up, watching her try to regain control and slowly revert to a standing position that was somewhere near ordinary. Then he walked to the bathroom door, pretending not to have noticed the mirror, as Susie emerged. ‘I’m gonna tap on different parts of the door, and see if I can hear any differences. That way I might be able to tell which part is stuck.’
‘Okay.’ Susie’s voice was almost a whimper now.
Robert put his ear to the door, facing Susie, and tapped on different parts of it. He knew full well this wouldn’t do anything but Susie was in such a state that she wouldn’t notice it. Susie was looking around and continually squirming slightly.
Susie’s face suddenly went red, and she turned to walk into the nearest room. Robert knew she wanted to hold herself again, but he quickly stopped her.
‘No Susie, don’t move. I want to be able to hear this.’
She stopped, facing him, aghast. Her legs were pressed together and the look on her face was of genuine terror. She bobbed up and down and rubbed her thighs together, and even grabbed herself for a brief moment when she thought he wasn’t looking.
‘Stand still Susie,’ Robert said, ‘you have to be absolutely still or we’ll never get this door open.’
Susie stood still. There was nothing else she could do. Her feet were slightly apart and she tried to squeeze her thighs together but they weren’t close enough. Her hands were down by her sides - she was simply standing there, facing Robert. She bit her lip, then released it, then bit it again. She lifted one foot...
‘No, really, you have to be totally still.’
She let it fall again. Silent moments passed. Robert tapped on the door again, almost forgetting to.
Susie made a small noise, and Robert saw that she was crying.
‘What’s the matter Susie?’ he said, his voice full of genuine compassion, but inwardly loving it.
‘I’m w-worried ab-about Beckie,’ Susie said, and managed to stop crying.
And then, as Robert watched her, the thing he had been waiting for happened, and it was perfect.
A tiny droplet, almost clear with a slight golden tint, appeared from under her skirt, running down the inside of Susie’s right leg, leaving a wet trail. A second drop followed, and soon it was a continuous, though small, trickle. There was a gentle pattering sound as a few drops hit the carpet between her feet. The first squirt. The trickle became a stream, and was joined by a second, this time down her other leg.
Never in his life had Robert been so utterly transfixed by anything. He could do nothing but stare at Susie as she stood before him, her eyes filled with tears and her hand pressed against her mouth, and the dark spots on the carpet between her feet. More drops joined the first.
Suddenly her legs were awash as the streams became a flow, running together, twisting around her legs, splashing down onto the carpet. She grabbed herself again but it just dribbled down between her fingers. Then the tide slowed to a stop.
‘I’m sorry,’ Susie whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘D... Don’t be sorry,’ Robert said, his voice just as quiet. He felt guilty now as he saw the tear run down her cheek. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
‘It’s worse than ever... There’s so much more... I can’t hold it... Open the door...’
Robert nodded and turned. He was going to open the door this time. But as he pushed, the clunk could be heard again, and the door was jammed fast. He couldn’t open it no matter how hard he tried, and there was poor Susie standing helpless with her hand wedged between her legs and half-squatting down on the floor to try and keep control.
‘I can’t,’ he whispered, ‘I can’t open it!’
‘I can’t hold it! I need a wee!’ At least she had kept that British expression.
Robert could think of nothing else to do. She had to get outside to the garden, but she couldn’t get there by herself. He rushed forwards and scooped Susie up in his arms, her legs dangling over his left arm and her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He lifted her up and started down the stairs, as fast as he could. He strode quickly through the house, and as he neared the back door he felt a warmth hit his arm and dribble down it. Susie gasped as another squirt escaped.
The door was locked. Robert turned and strode back into the house, finding the keys hung up on the wall as usual. He grabbed them and went back to the door, feeling another spurt hit his arm.
As he opened the door the spurt became a continuous stream, shooting out from between Susie’s legs in a crystal arc through the air and down onto the cold stone of the patio. He ran with Susie across the grass, a trail of sparkling droplets left behind, and finally set her down against the garden fence. She flopped back and leant against it, her eyes closed, sobbing quietly, as the cascade continued to flow, a clear stream reaching out in front of her, drenching the grass.
Robert was rooted to the spot as he watched her. He had never seen anything like it. He had never seen a girl do this before. He had always thought with a girl it would be more random, showering out in different directions, but this was a clear flow, like his own, a curved line of clear, yellowish water stretching out quite a long way.
As if in slow motion, Susie’s head lifted, and her eyes opened, to look up at Robert. Their eyes met, connected. The force of the stream dwindled. Susie wasn’t crying any more. The last tear fell from her face, plunged downwards, spinning, the sunlight flashing on its surface, before it plopped down onto the grass between Susie’s feet, mixing in with the puddle that had already formed there.
Susie was smiling sweetly again, apologetically. She let out a tiny giggle, and lifted up her skirt slowly. Robert looked down at her darkened, almost transparent white panties as the stream drew closer to her and became a trickle, then a few drops, and then stopped. She looked back up, dropped the skirt, and flopped forwards into his arms.
‘God, I’m sorry.’ she said.
‘Ah don’t worry about it.’
‘It’s so embarrassing though, you must have been so embarrassed, I’m so embarrassed...’ She started to sob again. Robert patted her on the back.
‘Stop that, it’s okay, it doesn’t matter. Clothes wash, carpets wash, and I’m close to getting Beckie free. We can keep her in there a little longer while we clean up, right? It’s no problem.’
Susie stood back. ‘You’re sure?’
‘I’m sure. Are you okay?’
Susie wiped the tears from her cheek and nodded. She turned and started to walk back up toward the house. Robert followed her, never taking his eyes off her. Her skirt was mostly dry, although there were a few splashed areas on the back and front. Her legs were still shiny and wet, but they were starting to dry off in the sun. He didn’t like to linger on it, but his mind was telling him things. But, there was work to be done. He shook his head, and thought of England. |
Obedient Omar
Omar was nervous and excited as he logged into the familiar site online. Alone in his flat, as always, on his seventh week in lockdown due to a worldwide pandemic, life should have been boring by now. Perhaps it would have been had he not started week 1 by signing up to a worldwide dating site as he downed a few more beers than normal. ‘Best decision I have ever made’ he thought as adrenaline gave him the biggest smile and even made his penis twitch with anticipation.
Casey was online just as they had planned.
‘Hey handsome! Fancy meeting you here! You still ok for tonight?’
‘Absolutely!’
There was something different about online communication that put Omar at ease so much quicker. Maybe it was the comfort of being in his own home, or the ability to switch off anytime he felt uncomfortable or maybe it was the fact that it was just so much more private and intimate. Whatever it was it was sure making his connection with Casey much hotter and far more enjoyable than he ever thought possible.
Last night things had developed rather quickly and what had started as friendly chat had turned into Omar becoming highly aroused to the point of no return. Casey had not only been happy about it she was even actively supporting, touching herself exactly as Omar himself wanted to do to her, slowly stripping herself in ways he described on messages and via video, and saying words that caused his body to react very strongly indeed.The two hour video interaction had been so sexually tantalising that Omar had cum on camera whilst Casey watched on not just once but twice! Just seeing her again in a beautiful revealing top and an inviting smile made his brain replay everything in all its glory causing his penis to rise already.
But tonight was HER turn. Omar was determined about that. Casey had taken him to a place of absolute ecstasy and whilst he’d love nothing more than to return there tonight again he had enough self control and respect for Casey to want to repay the favour. He knew she was attracted to him, she’s already said and done enough to prove that, but she’d never actually orgasmed yet on camera and Omar longed to see her do so. So in the aftermath of an intensive and highly erotic evening he had agreed to be her slave tonight and do anything she wished that might give her pleasure. He’d even dug through cupboards and drawers and made a trip out for ‘essentials’ to complete the items on her list. He smiled as he now showed her the handcuffs, whip, the cans of bear and bottle of wine, the towel and the clean underwear. He was game for most things and if Casey wanted to reenact her favourite scenes from Fifty Shades then that’s what he would do. That’s certainly what the items seem to be leading to in his mind anyway.
As they made light conversation Casey requested he drink the beer ‘to loosen up’ and Omar was happy to oblige. A while later, when that can was empty she loosely suggested he have another ‘after all you might be getting hot and sweaty later’. Omar liked the sound of that and happily drank more. When that finished Casey laughed and joked that what she had planned would work even better if Omar was ‘relaxed as much as possible’ so actively encouraged another beer. Omar couldn’t refuse since he’d agreed to be obedient and let her be the master. Besides, he was definitely having fun and it was easy to drink when someone else was turning you on, teasing you and getting excited in return.
When Casey began touching her breasts and smiling Omar wondered what might be coming next. So far things were fun, but tame, as Casey finally seemed to remember the handcuffs. Omar waved them on camera but as he stood up to do so he found himself moving from foot to foot a little more than normal. He was feeling flushed so took off his shirt and showed off his hairy, toned and muscular chest. Casey ran her fingers over her breasts and ran her tongue simultaneously around her lips in delight. The glimmer in her eyes showing she liked what she saw.
‘Are you wanting me to handcuff myself? Would you like that?’
‘Maybe soon’
Omar returned to the seat at his computer crossing his legs beneath him as he realised the beers were definitely affecting him. If Casey wanted him handcuffed he might take a quick break first.
‘If it’s going to be later could I maybe take a minute first?’
‘Why? You ok?’
‘Yeah, just nipping to the bathroom. I won’t be a minute babe.’
‘But wait a minute! Wasn’t I meant to be the master tonight?’
‘Yeah of course! Please master may I take a minute to pee?’
‘Master says no’
Omar laughed. He wasn’t expecting that but hey he had said Casey was in change and she did seem very excited, which was exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t too bad anyway. So he laughed and replied.
‘Ok. Master rules. So what’s next? Handcuffs?
‘Not yet. What about some wine?’
‘Really? Ok boss!’
Omar popped the wine and poured himself a glass while Casey watched on screen. At least she had some too so that wasn’t as bad. The only problem was pouring the wine was highlighting the fact he really did need a piss. It would go away or die down soon enough, he hoped, as he dutifully starting drinking the wine.
It tasted sweeter than the beer but none the less pleasant. Casey was great company and chatting and playing was a great distraction to his bladder, though he was aware that he was moving around a lot more on his chair and tapping his leg now and again. He thought he would chance asking again.
‘Emmm master, would it be ok if I had a quick piss? I’ll be right back?’
‘Master says no’
Casey might have been saying no but her smile, cheeky look and actions showed she wasn’t trying to hurt him and clearly just messing around and having fun. Had he not been drinking so much Omar may have realised sooner what was happening but being a little ‘tipsy’ and determined to bring Casey to climax tonight he was too distracted and inebriated to realise that it was actually his desperation to piss that was interesting Casey and turning her on.
Still not realising the connection Omar happily obliged when Casey insisted he had another glass of wine even if he did say twice during it that he ‘really needed a pee’.
All Omar could see was that Casey was thoroughly enjoying herself and evidently getting turned on and that the only person responsible was him, which pleased him greatly. So when Casey requested he take off his jeans and sit with just his light blue boxers on Omar was only too happy to oblige.
‘Then can I take a quick piss?’
‘No sexy! Then you can pick up the whip!’
Casey was laughing but she herself had now stripped down to her underwear, sporting a very flattering red lace bra and matching knickers that accentuated every curve and asset of her beautiful figure. Despite very much needing to empty his bladder Omar couldn’t help but feel turned on by seeing her and his hand drifted naturally to his half erect penis. Casey clearly noticed, remarking quickly:
‘Is it that bad you have to hold yourself like a kid?’
‘What? Oh sorry! It’s just...it’s just that...wow you are are very beautiful woman Casey and you make me want to touch myself ok! Fuck baby you are very hot. So what have I to do with this whip? Where have I to whip myself master?’
‘Whip yourself?’ Casey laughed, ‘Nowhere! I want you to sit up on the chair slave, bring your knees up so your feet are on the chair too and then using that whip I want you to tickle you feet with it!’
‘Ah! Fuck! I’ve got it! That secret fetish of yours...you have a foot fetish! I told you I would work it out!’
Casey laughed, a sexy, erotic laugh that Omar loved so much as he dutifully and obediently used the whip as best he could to tickle his feet. He hadn’t expected it to be ticklish but goodness it really was. So ticklish in fact that he suddenly had to grab his dick tight as an urgent and strong need to empty his bladder overtook his body so suddenly he though he would explode.
‘Oh God! Please master can I go piss? I’m bursting here!’
‘Master says no. Sorry! Now have you got the handcuffs?’
‘Yes. They are...here they are! Oh come on...can’t I just have a quick slash? I seriously am desperate baby’
Omar hadn’t quite managed to let go of his penis as waves of desperation continued to hit him hard. Now very much squirming and clearly uncomfortable Casey seemed to be getting more and more aroused by the minute. Distracted by his urgent need and unable to stop fidgeting Omar still hadn’t made the connection between his desperate state and the exponential increase in Casey’s libido.
‘So slave, how bad is this need to go pee pee? You aren’t going to leave me just as I am about to climax are you? Now did I do such a thing to you yesterday? No I didn’t. You are a grown man and it’s not much to expect you to wait until I get my promised satisfaction now is it? It’s not like you are going to piss yourself is it?’
Omar, squirming madly on his chair, his bottom pushed right back against the chair and his back leaning forward with one hand tightly between his crotch and the other gripping the arm of the chair as his legs swung, bounced and scissored in and out, so wanted to please Casey, be obedient to her commands and bring her delight, but yet he had to admit, even if reluctantly, that that final question may yet become a very embarrassing reality very soon.
‘I will obey. But oh my God I actually can’t remember EVER having to piss this fucking badly!’
‘Does this help?’
Casey undid her bra letting it drop suddenly to the floor as she stood close to the camera giving Omar a full on view of her firm, plump and sexy breasts as she licked her fingers sexually and twiddled her own nipples one by one.
As bursting as he was to piss Omar had to admit this girl was as hot as they came! He stroked his aching penis with arousal, fully aware that had his bladder not been about to explode any second he would be edging himself extremely close to climax by now, especially now Casey had removed her knickers revealing a closely shaven and very wet vagina with a very hard clitoris.
‘Oh God you are beautiful Casey!’
‘And you are a good slave turning me on. So handcuffs...Omar handcuff yourself to your seat. Talk to me about how badly you want release. You are so fucking sexy when you are desperate to piss like this. In fact, do you want another beer? You look like you are sweating there and I don’t want you being thirsty. In fact I demand you have another beer then handcuff yourself to the back of the chair you are sitting on. You can put the towel under you first if you want. I am very close to orgasm here you know. Very close indeed.’
‘And I am fucking going to piss myself! Is that what you want to see? A grown man piss his underwear because you handcuffed him to a chair and made his desperate bladder burst? Oft you drive a hard bargain but God you are the sexiest thing ever! Is that buzzing I hear?’
Casey had straddled her chair naked, her nipples hard and erect, her face flushed and her buzzing vibrator rubbing against her dripping vagina as she ran her other hand through her hair and moaned.
Oman, ever obedient, stood from his chair, dancing around and marching on the spot, opened the final beer and drank as much as he could whilst twisting his body to prevent himself from having an accident. He swirled the can at the camera so Casey could hear how much he had drank.
Finally the penny dropped and Omar looked directly into the camera head on whispering erotically:
‘I think I’m gonna piss myself. I really can’t hold this much longer! I’m just so bursting, so desperate, I need to fucking piss so bad. Oh please master may I piss before i soak my underpants?’
Casey’s response was as Omar predicted as he watched her pant, insert the dildo inside herself as her eyes lit up with passion and desire.
‘Your fetish! It’s...it’s people pissing themselves isn’t it?’
‘Just do as you are told slave! Get those handcuffs on!’
Casey continued to play with herself openly and pleasurably while Omar fidgeted, held himself, pee danced like a little child, and moaned as he sat naked, other than his boxers, onto the metal computer chair with the towel on top as he tried to handcuff himself to the back of the chair whilst trying to not piss himself. He had to go oh so badly that it hurt. He couldn’t stand or sit still now and couldn’t dare allow his hand to stop gripping his aching penis. He could feel the weight of the liquid in his bladder and even see how distended it was. It was going to come out wether he wanted it to or not.
Omar scissored his legs in and out, crossed his legs and squirmed as Casey pleasured herself more, sliding the buzzing toy in and out as she moved closer to the camera allowing Omar to see and hear everything. The dripping wet vulva, the throbbing lips, the squelching of her juices all making Omar’s heart skip a beat. Against anything he had ever experienced before he couldn’t help but be amazed that despite the fact he was seconds away from exploding with litres of warm piss his aching penis was now hardening and longing with passion too.
Casey moaned with passion as Omar moaned in desperation, making Casey moan more in passion and desire even more.
As Casey slid the vibratory in harder, faster and deeper Omar squirmed more, moaned more and begged more to be released to piss.
‘Oh God it’s going to come out any second. I can feel it! I can’t hold back!’
Casey increased her pleasuring and edged closer to climax on camera as Omar let out a whimper as a sudden strong wave of urgency hit and, unable to grab himself to prevent it, a shot of warm urine spurt from his erect penis soaking the crotch of his light blue boxers and causing his thighs to glisten with warm liquid and his boxers to cling to his erect penis.
‘Shit! I just leaked. I’m going to explode any second Casey! Please please let me piss! I’m begging you master! It’s so absolutely urgent that I go now! I can’t wait another second longer! This is so embarrassing and humiliating but I honestly am about to burst! Oh master take pity on me! I beseech you to just release me to piss please. I’ve been holding so so long. I’ve been such a good boy! But...oh God...I can’t wait....too many beers, too long a wait...I can’t do this much longer...’
Omar could see the effect he was having, albeit that he was genuinely desperate and not just trying to bring Casey to orgasm. He couldn’t help but notice how she moaned, responded and reacted as her eyes lit up watching his every move and listening to his every word. Just like he had been putty in her hands the previous night she was putty in his hands tonight, seconds away from exploding in her own way as he was seconds from exploding with urine.
Time seemed to stand still as both edged ever closer to climax, Omar begging and squirming, his penis twitching and throbbing as Casey rode her vibrator edging closer to climax, moaning and gasping in urgency.
Omar bit his lip, bouncing both legs furiously as he closed his eyes and let his head rest back. He clenched as hard as his muscles could as his hard penis shook and twitched in agony for release.
‘Oh Fuck! Oh Fuck! It’s not gonna stop!’
Casey moaned loudly as she reached her point of no return simultaneously as he head tipped back, her heart raced and her body swelled the dildo fir all she was worth as droplets of warm fluid squirted out of her pussy in time with warm liquid oozing from Omar’s erect penis.
Omar swore as urine soared through his urethra causing his penis to pound against his soaked boxers as urine soared in the air and poured back down over his belly button, along his stomach and around his thighs, the warm liquid sending shivers right through his body as his moons of relief blending into one with Casey’s.
Omar couldn’t stop. He briefly paused only to immediately restart with a surge so strong he thought he might rocket off the chair! He was drenched, totally and thoroughly right from his chest to his toes. But by God did he feel relief like he never had before.
Casey climaxed twice as she watched and listened to everything Omar did, shaking with ecstasy and a sense of fulfilment.
After a minute Casey broke the silence first:
‘God you really had to go didn’t you Omar? Fair play that was bloody amazing mate. I really need a shower after that!’
‘Me too! Master, is it ok if I can be released for that?’
‘Master says yes. Master would also love to do that again sometime. Same time tomorrow?’
‘Yes! Oh and make sure YOU have plenty of wine this time. See you tomorrow!’ |
Michelle tried to concentrate on the report on her screen. As she scrolled down the page on the screen, she noticed she was gripping her mouse tightly to the point she could feel a cramp coming on. Taking a deep sigh, she closed her eyes then slowly and carefully relaxed her grip with her right hand. She did not, however, dare to relax her body, especially her left hand. Opening her eyes, she went looked back to the screen. She had lost track of where she had been. She tried reading a few sentences, trying to see if something would spark a vague recollection. But it was no use, she couldn't concentrate at all. She massaged her temples with both hands. Although it was cool in the office, Michelle was lightly sweating.
A sudden staccato of two knocks on her office door startled Michelle. Her left hand instantly went between her legs as she squished her thighs together and tensed them. A bucket of cold dread washed over her from head to toe; there was only one person who knocked like that. The office door opened and in came her boss, Rachel, smiling, as always. For most people who have only passing interactions with her boss, she was a charming and friendly person. However, for the few who worked with her on a daily basis, Rachel had an arsenal of smiles that communicated subtle hints about what she was thinking or feeling. The smile her boss wore at the moment had a "fangy" edge to it, like a vampire. Mocking, confident, hungry.
"Hi Michelle!" Rachel greeted her. "Are you finished with the proposed increases for next year?"
"Rachel, I'm almost done, I just-"
"Oh dear, Michelle!" exclaimed Rachel, cutting off Michelle. Her smile widened slightly. Although she didn't have canines, the "fangy" edge to her smile sent a shiver up Michelle's spine. She tightened the grip on her left hand. "I thought you would be done by now, it's almost half past ten. And I'd like to have the summary of the changes at some point before lunch."
"Yes, of course Rachel," stammered Michelle. "I'm getting through it as fast as I can, but can I- ?"
Michelle's voice trailed off as Rachel strode toward her desk. Rachel stood at 5'4" with 3 inches heels. To some people, she was a short, energetic, and helpful woman of 45. While Michelle was slightly tall at 5'11" and had an athletic build, she cowered slightly as her boss leered at her over the desk. Rachel's eyes passed over the left-hand pressed between thighs. Somehow, the edge to her smile grew sharper, like a knife just freshly sharpened on whetstone, and a tinkle in her eye showed the amusement she felt.
Speaking with a significantly lower voice with only the slightest menacing growl Rachel said,"After I get the report, and not a moment before."
Michelle could only lower her eyes and nod obediently.
Rachel picked up the pink water bottle on her desk. It was almost 1/4 empty. She shook it slightly, making the water slosh around, then turned the bottle around in her hand. "This sticker says the water bottle is certified leak proof," Rachel commented. She arched an eyebrow and gave Michelle a razor sharp smile. "If only we could say the same about you."
Michelle blushed at the humiliating remark. There was nothing she could do but hold her tongue, and her sphincter.
Rachel returned the bottle to where it was then turned around and walked to exit the office. She stopped on the threshold, then turned around.
"Oh, Michelle? You still have a bit of water in your bottle. Do remember to stay hydrated." She said sweetly, as if a mother doting on her child. But Michelle knew when Rachel was giving orders, even if they were not phrased as such.
"H-how much more should I drink?" Michelle asked nervously. She couldn't help it any longer, she moved her right hand to join her left hand under her black pencil skirt and held herself.
Rachel thoughtfully looked at the bottle and smiled sadistically. "'Don't stop'." Then she exited, smoothly closing the office door behind her, the door latch clicking ominously not unlike the that of handcuffs snapping shut.
Michelle swallowed hard. The line on the her water bottle marked 'Don't Stop!' meant she had to drink almost half her bottle! It had been some two hours and a quarter of the bottle since she had last been used the toilet at her house. Her bladder strained against her white poly fiber panties. She shot her water bottle a look, directing all her frustration at the mess it had gotten her into. But she knew the truth was that, Rachel would have found some other way of torturing her.
* * *
Just over two weeks ago, Michelle had bought a 1.5L decorated motivational water bottle. It was a cute pink bottle with white cover and cursive lettering, where times and motivational messages were denoted instead of capacity marks.
-- Ready, Set, Drink! 8am --
-- You've got it! --
-- Keep Going! 10am --
-- Don't Stop! --
-- Halfway There! 12pm --
-- Don't give up! --
-- Keep Chugging! 2pm --
-- Almost there!! --
-- You did it! 5pm --
It seemed like a practical way of tracking her water intake. Besides, it tended to be on the dry side in the office for whatever reason and her skin often felt a bit dry. The first few days, it had worked like a charm: she could see her skin becoming more radiant and hardly felt the dry air! Of course, the downside was that she needed to go to the bathroom all the time. And to get to the bathroom (or leave the hallway that belong to HR), she had to pass by Rachel's office, which had clear glass walls. The clear glass was intended to make the HR Director's office seem transparent and open, but of course the real reason was to remind her department that she saw everything and everyone. There was nothing she didn't know, and, as office rumors had it, no one she couldn't manipulate.
Rachel hadn't really bothered Michelle in the three years she had been working at the office. Oh, there had been several sharp remarks about mistakes Michelle had made and some tense conversations, but it was the normal boss cracking the whip stuff. Michelle had been using the water bottle for a week, when Rachel made her signature two-knock announcement on the office door one day a few minutes after Michelle arrived.
"Hi there, Michelle! Do you mind if we have a little chat?" Rachel said brightly. Something in her smile made Michelle uneasy. A passing memory of a low-budget car dealership commercial flashed in her head. The dealer starring in the commercial was a comical stereotype of the shady car dealer. His smile was slightly crooked and instinctively unsettling. It was the smile of a loan shark making you a deal you couldn't refuse.
"Uh, sure Rachel."
Rachel entered gracefully, shutting the door quietly behind her.
"I've noticed you've been walking by my office more often than usual. Is there something that's been happening?"
"Oh, that!" Michelle relaxed, though not fully. She had thought she had made an error on the 401k employee guide. "I bought this motivational water bottle to help me drink more water. See?" She held up her pink water bottle. "Of course, because of that..." Michelle trailed off, embarrassed.
Rachel took it in hand and read the markings. "Oh, that's cute," she commented, turning the bottle over. "But... I'm afraid that you going to the restroom so often makes my department look a little bad."
Michelle almost blanched, taken off-guard by the comment. "Um, I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm not sure why anyone would think that?" she said as calmly as she could.
Bottle still in hand, Rachel said in a tender, motherly tone as if lecturing her child,"You see, Michelle, when someone goes to the bathroom every 15 minutes or so, it may seem like there's a lack of control, a lack of discipline. And image is everything to a company's human resources department. If an HR representative looks like she's not in control, then it looks like the HR department isn't in control. And if the HR department looks bad, then I look bad. We wouldn't want that, now, do we?" She flashed a sharp smile at Michelle for understanding. Michelle merely nodded.
"With that in mind, I'm afraid I'm going to have to restrict how often you can use the restroom."
The sense of unease in Michelle practically exploded into general alarm. She exclaimed,"You can't do that!" But she instantly knew she that was exactly the wrong reaction.
Rachel smiled, her teeth suddenly possessing a razor sharp glint. "Michelle, are you aware of our policy regarding recreational use of illicit drugs, like marijuana or ectasy?"
This time Rachel did openly blanch. Those were exactly the two things she used regularly. She had stopped using them to pass the obligatory drug test when she was hired. In her three years working she had not heard of anyone taking the drug test again after being hired.
"I can't say when the next drug screening will be, as these tests are random," Rachel said. "As you know, our company has a zero-tolerance policy regarding drug use."
She knows, Michelle thought. How the hell does she know? I can't afford to lose this job, she's got me. Michelle didn't trust herself to say anything, so she nodded silently.
"I'm glad we understand each other." Rachel smiled victoriously, viciously. "So, effective immediately, when you need to use the restroom, you will have to come to my office and ask permission. Let's see if we can't help you practice some self-control."
Rachel looked at the water bottle she was still holding. "You do have a point though, hydration is important to staying healthy. How about you keep the schedule on this water bottle? I'll be checking in randomly to make sure you keep to the schedule."
Michelle felt like a sudden a 20lb weight had been dropped on her stomach. She realized exactly what Rachel was doing. Her mind raced to find some way out, but she was trapped.
Setting the bottle down on the desk and moving to leave the office, Rachel said, "I'm glad we had this talk, Michelle. Thank you for your time!"
* * *
It was 11:04am, and Michelle was reaching the end of her endurance. Rachel had been torturing her all week, and it was beginning to have a diminishing effect on her ability to hold. Every day it seemed like her bladder was weaker and weaker. As she waited for the documents to finish printing, she had both her hands pressed up inside her skirt as she did a jerky and erratic pee-dance. She crossed her legs, then recrossed them vice versa, tensing her thighs, and randomly dipped to lower her center of gravity. Anything to that might seem to help her the least bit. Her panties were already moist, from the brief but constant losses of control over the past half hour. Michelle had repeatedly checked and rechecked the back of her skirt. She could see no stains that revealed how close she was to completely losing it, but she certainly felt something, and very self-conscious to the point of paranoia.
Finally the printer finished. She snatched up the documents, grabbed the bottle from her desk, then dashed to Rachel's office. But there was already someone inside. She made eye contact with Rachel, and received the hand gesture saying "just a minute", but Michelle ended up waiting an agonizing extra few minutes while Rachel talked and laughed with the man. She felt the spurts grow larger, but could she could not hold herself for the extra support since she was holding both the documents and her water bottle. She could only gyrate her legs and tense her already sore leg muscles.
As the man left the office, Michelle rushed in. Rachel's smile brightened visible as she entered.
"Rachel, I'm finished with the summary, here's everything!" As carefully and respectfully as she could, she laid the papers out for Rachel on her desk. Still, her hands shook as she set the papers out; the physical effort to keep herself together was exhausting.
Rachel leafed through the documents as Michelle stood there, with her right hand gripping the edge of her skirt as if one would hold on to a cliff edge to keep from falling to their death. It seemed to Michelle as if Rachel was intentionally being slow in reading the report, just another game to toy with Michelle by making her wait until the last possible second. A sudden wave of cramping pain made her lose control for a full second, and she felt a trickle down the inside of her thigh.
"R-Rachel?" Michelle squeaked, the level of her panic matching the high pitch of her voice.
Rachel didn't even look at Michelle, she kept on reading for a few more seconds. Then she set the papers down, satisfied for the moment. She treated Michelle to a smile of genuine mirth, drinking in the power of being able to push the younger, taller woman to the absolute edge of her willpower.
"That will do for now Michelle. And your water bottle?"
Michelle held the water bottle out and presented it for Rachel to see. She tried to keep it as steady as she could, but diverting even this amount of attention made her lose momentary control again. The trickle on the inside of her thigh dribbled further down, and she audibly inhaled, summoning the whatever strength was left to stop the leak. The trickle must have been visible past the end of her skirt, because Rachel's eyes looked downward towards her legs.
"Alright, go before you stain my carpet," she said dimissively, disdainfully.
Michelle had already turned around to exit before Rachel had even finished her sentence. She made a mad, desperate dash for the ladies' restroom. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw heads turn to look at her. She blushed fiercely at the attention on her obvious desperation. Although she the sound of her pulse was deafening in her ears, she could swear she could hear the whispers of the people on the floor.
"...there she goes again..."
"...my kid can hold himself better..."
"...think she'd know her own limit..."
Bursting through the door of the restroom, Michelle felt the very last vestiges of control slipping away like the grains of sand in an hour glass. She spurted into her panties, and this time she could feel wetness down to her ankles. She dropped the water bottle and flung open a restroom stall. She didn't even turn around but sat on the toilet facing toward the wall. Even before she was on the toilet, her muscles gave out. Hiking her skirt up, she gushed a torrent through her already saturated panties.
The sense of physical, mental, and emotional relief took her breath away and made her mind mentally blank for a second. Somewhere in the emptiness she heard the distant, reverberating echoes of the water bottle clanging against the floor, bringing her back. She let the edges of her skirt slip through her hands and fall back into position, then leaned forward and rested her hands against the wall for support as she emptied her tortured bladder for several minutes. Her breathing slowly went from short ragged gasps to longer, even-paced panting, and finally normal breathing. Michelle became aware of her drenched panties clinging to her. They were still slightly warm, and the slight stinging sensation of the urine on her skin grew more noticeable as it was rapidly cooled by the ambient room temperature.
Michelle began to collect herself mentally, and brought her arms down to inspect herself. Her white panties were ruined, that much was beyond a doubt. She sighed, then reversed her position so that she was sitting normally towards the door and eased her panties down. First she thoroughly wiped herself and her legs, then tried to dry her panties as best she could. Feeling that she was somewhat clean, she flushed the toilet and took off her panties fully. Unfortunately, she had no pocket to hide her stained panties. There was no choice but to put them on again until she could quickly pull them off and stuff them into her purse at her office. She rose on shaky legs to exit the stall. She rinsed her panties in the sink, then dried them again and washed her hands. As she slipped back into her panties, she felt goosebumps across her skin.
The door to the restroom swung openly. Michelle turned around to find Rachel smiling her malevolent smile. In her hand was the pink water bottle Michelle had dropped.
"It's almost lunchtime, Michelle. You're halfway there," Rachel said with perverse happiness.
Edited April 26, 2020 by razel
(see edit history) |
Wanda Maximoff
Wanda's Room
It wasn't on purpose, Wanda knew that much.
She had been toying around with her magic a bit too carelessly when a hex she had been ricocheting between her hands suddenly hit her palm at an odd angle and entered her arm. Just before it had, the dull- almost unnoticeable- pang of having to pee struck her. The barely-felt sensation made her hand falter. Her body had no reaction, as usually her spells had no effect on her unless she intended them to.
But this one had an effect.
It took a few seconds of no feeling- in which Wanda generated another orb between her fingers- when suddenly her nonexistent need was increased a thousandfold, bringing her to her current state.
She was doubled over on her bed, her knees and the balls of her feet pressed against the mattress as her hands squished themselves into her crotch, hoping to stem the intense desperation to go that now wracked through her body. She used her black skirt like a buffer, though it had little effect when a warm splurt escaped with a whimper of denial.
The door to her room was luckily shut, so no one walking by would be giving her weird looks or make fun of her, thankfully. This was the most intense need to go she had ever felt, and the pain pressing against her stomach was getting almost too much to bear. She whimpered and bit her lip in need when- of course- there were three gentle knocks on her metal door. Through her pain, Wanda managed to speak through her teeth, her bladder ready to fail at the most subtle of movements.
"Vizh?" Her voice was far too high for normal, and she sounded unusually angry. Vision phased his head through the door in concern, and upon seeing his girlfriend, quickly allowed himself in and threw a plate on her desk.
"Wanda? What happened?" He had left not three minutes ago to fix a sandwich for her when her stomach growled quite loudly- said sandwich was resting on the white plate on her desk nearby- and now he came back to this? What did he miss? What was even happening?
Wanda could barely formulate a sentence as her body shivered atop her bed, "Magic. I… Can't." Vision nodded hurriedly, using his database of Wanda's actions as well as references from the internet to deduce her current problem. A small search into human female bodily cues brought up a concept that made him a small bit… aroused- which gave Vision another set of mixed feelings.
Wanda was on the brink of wetting herself.
The nearest washroom was on the floor above and across the Tower from the stairs, and Vision quickly outed that as a viable option, as clearly Wanda wouldn't make it and he- while he somewhat wanted to see her wet herself, however embarrassing it was to admit- he wouldn't ever subject her to that kind of embarrassment in front of her teammates- either the looks and mocks she'd attract making her way there, or failing to make it, or both. That limited her to the room they currently were within, and Vision began working quickly to find the best option for her. There were no usable containers for her to use, as her room was neat and tidy. He spoke quietly as his plan formed, as to not alert any others lurking outside her door of Wanda's issue.
"Wanda, I fear you may need to relieve yourself within this room." He stated quietly.
Had both of Wanda's hands not been crushed against her crotch in desperation she would have slapped him. She looked at him as if to say, 'You think?' but only managed a pained groan as another roll of pressure settled into her bladder. Vision parted from her side and onto the carpeted floor. Luckily, unlike most of her teammates, Wanda hadn't tried to reinforce her carpet into the walls, leaving it easy to pull up and away from said wall.
An idea settled.
Wanda's bed was positioned in a corner of her room, the door positioned in the opposite. Beside her bed and along the same wall as the door was a corner desk and a dark-coloured dresser. The only other corner of the square room was at the foot of her bed and empty, and as Vision pulled up the segment of carpet he revealed sturdy, flawless concrete. He smiled as he tucked the fold of carpet under the edge of Wanda's bed. He looked up to her like he just solved the answer to the universe.
She looked at him with the best indignant look she could and whispered through her teeth, "I am not. Pissing. In the corner." Her voice was far too shaky to be any kind of menacing, and Wanda herself knew she had no other options. Vision offered his hand to his desperate lover, offering her an easier path down.
"I'm afraid it's the only option available to you, Wanda." The witch sighed despondently and took Vision's hand, willing her bladder to contain itself. She nudged herself to the edge slowly, the movement angering her bladder slightly more with each move. She squeezed Vision's hand harder as she squeezed her meaty thighs together. Vision helped lower her to the floor, but that's when Wanda's hand flew back to her vagina.
A synthetic breath caught in Vision's throat when a splash of Wanda's transparent, warm urine dripped down her leg. She cried out and dropped to her knees, slowed by her boyfriend until her knees touched the floor. Vision took her hand and she squeezed it, however she still held her urine.
"Vizh… I- agh- I can't do this…" She sounded like she was crying. Her head was down, looking at her shaking knees as Vision stood above her. He knelt beside her and raised her chin to look her in the eyes. She was frequently shivering and the very subtlest hint of a rounded distension was peeking from her stomach. "I can't."
Vision gripped her hand harder and pressed his lips against Wanda's. "It is unhealthy to hold large amounts of urine for long periods of time," He spoke against her lips. He took in another kiss, this one longer and more heated. Slowly, he helped her to her feet. He separated and led her to the corner he had folded over.
Wanda reengaged another kiss as Vision stole her hand away from her crotch and brought both of her hands in front of her, holding her by the wrists. She writhed in the kiss and tears kept falling as the weight on her bladder grew too heavy, and a heavy spurt of her hot pee squirted out against her underwear.
She squealed in what sounded an odd combination of satisfaction, sadness, surprise, shame and… relief. Wanda clamped her legs shut further in response, breaking her kiss.
"Vizh… I can't! Please..." Her sentence stopped in a whisper when another splash hit her deliciously thick calves. This splash was stronger, hotter, harder and brought the barrier of Wanda's will with it. She gasped suddenly in defeat, guided Vision to the floor and bent into his shoulder as a quiet hsss shot into the room, a clear puddle growing around Wanda as her urine danced off of her nude calves and into the puddle she sat in. Wanda sobbed a breath quietly as her urine rolled down from her clothed vagina, through her clamped thighs, over and down her shivering calves before silently dripping onto the floor, but as the pressure on her bladder decreased she felt… Relief. And, as Vision comfortingly rubbed circles on her back, the shame shrunk away as well, until all that was left was the sound and caressing warmth of her emptying bladder and the shattering love between them.
Wanda gasped in a choked sigh as her bladder slowly emptied. The lack of contents as her urine flowed from between her legs left her insides with a small spike of painful absence. But the absence was so, so relieving. The feeling of streams flowing down her legs and onto the concrete beneath her. Countless seconds passed until Wanda’s spout began to lessen, and eventually, as it slowed to a passive dripping, Wanda looked up to Vision and asked him a simple question.
“Do you still love me?” She looked down in a mild shock, as that question hadn’t even been on her tongue. The query was more a reflex than an actual thought- Vision suspected from her tragic and lonely younger years. He was nevertheless taken aback and furrowed his brow in confusion.
“Wanda, I love you no less than ever. We all have moments of weakness. We cannot allow our weaknesses to overtake our opinion of ourselves… or the opinions of ourselves we believe others to hold. I look at you no differently,” he whispered. Wanda smiled and teared up again, but when she stood she looked at the puddle that was pooled on the concrete around her bare feet. Vision helped her onto the carpet, where she began to discard her clothing. Her black panties fell first, hopelessly soaked and... warm, like her legs were. The warmth was almost comforting, and the lack of pressure on her insides was peace she didn’t know she needed to feel. Her black skirt followed, only wet around the back of the rim- where it had dipped in the remains of her accident.
She threw her wet clothes next to the dark-wood dresser that rested next to her desk and retrieved her red towel from the dresser. She dried her thighs, calves and feet before carefully massaging the wetness from her vagina, whispering a moan when she accidentally dragged her finger over her reddened clitoris through the rough fabric of the towel. Vision felt himself harden again at her moan.
She dumped the towel with the rest of her wet clothing and stood next to her synthetic lover with only a black shirt and a rest chest-vest covering her pale skin.
“Vizh, what about the…” She pointed to her puddle, which barely stayed within the shape of concrete they had constructed. Vision lazily turned to it and shot a low-power beam from the gem in his forehead, the puddle evaporating as his beam graced it. Soon enough, there was no hint that anything had even happened, only a small mist of steam. Vision tugged the carpet out from under Wanda’s mattress and allowed it to fall back into place.
“Okay then,” She sighed, resting her head against Vision’s shoulder. She remained nude from the waist down, and Vision smiled as he noticed her pink lips shining in the calm, domestic lighting- whether it was from her arousal or her wetting, he didn't really care. However, she stole his attention with another question.
“Did… Did you… God dammit…” Vision caressed Wanda’s cheek as she bit her lip in hesitation. He smiled reassuringly before she brought up the will to ask,
“Was that hot for you, too, Vizh?” She asked bluntly. Vision swallowed- despite having no need to- and took in a breath as he considered Wanda’s question.
“‘Too?’” He asked, turning to his lover. She nodded, almost in shame, and looked down to her feet, which were turned inwards. Vision took it into consideration, acknowledging how aroused he felt himself become as Wanda lost control. Silently, he nodded and whispered, ‘Yes.’. Wanda smiled as she looked back up before hugging Vision around the waist. He embraced his half-naked lover likewise, unknowingly- to her- generating quite a few scenarios they could implement into their sex life to include Wanda’s newfound kink.
And Vision definitely couldn't be blamed, as Wanda was doing the same and she knew one fact about the last five minutes that remained irrevocably true. Wanda wanted to do it again. She wanted to do this again for her lover- though perhaps next time, with a better battle plan. But, battle plan or not, Wanda’s chest tightened with new ideas.
So, for a first piece I shall post, I think I did a sufficient job of expressing my ideas. I know it had the cliche, cop-out ending lots of omorashi fanfiction has, but this was written a few months ago (back in the ending of February) and I’ve developed the endings of some other prompts a fair bit more. Any and all criticism is welcome. Also feel free to request a short with any of the characters listed in the beginning of the thread (and others if you believe I missed a certain character).
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Margaret “Peggy” Carter
Outside Garden, Carter Residence
Peggy was kneeled in her garden, trowel in hand as she dealt with a particularly stubborn weed. She dug deeper around it, almost its exact height underground before she took a steady grasp and pulled. The weed resisted, but her above-average strength given from years of secret government work made the weed finally surrender. The main root of the plant came up, with spider-like arms extending into spindly, wiry hairs. Peggy threw the weed into a small plastic bin and sighed in relief as the final weed she had accidentally allowed to take hold was killed. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip as the sudden feeling of thirst hit her. Even from under her sunhat, the bright ball of flame in the sky beat down on her with a sweltering blaze.
For the past few days, there had been a moderate heat wave passing through D.C., leaving many to consume more water than usual. Peggy was no different- in fact, she despised the dry, baking heat of the sun that had been plaguing her and her lover’s home for the last week.
She rose from her garden and felt a twang in her side, but she ignored it as he wiped off her hands on the butt of her light jeans. She also wore a robin-egg camisole and brown hiking boots, her tanned, soft flesh and ruby lips igniting her beautiful cinnamon eyes. She headed back inside her quiet house, making a casual path for the kitchen. She opened one of the old-fashioned cupboards and brought out a slim, tall crystalline glass cup rounded on the bottom. Peggy moved over to the faucet and allowed the cold water to run for a moment so it got even colder- even though the heat warmed the water pipes, leaving them ever so slightly warmer than usual. As the water ran, Peggy felt the electric tingle and the twang from earlier return, now realizing it was the feeling of having to pee, and the memory of last week's… accident flooded her mind.
Her whole life, Peggy had felt an odd… attraction to the idea of an accident like the one she had. Back in the days of her working life of mid-forties S.H.I.E.L.D., she never would have allowed herself to explore her taboo fantasies. But in the modern days of the Avengers and the Internet (she was still trying to figure that out), she could explore herself- almost more than she felt was socially okay. And, her exploration of her “kink” had led to… Well, an impromptu load of laundry, to say the least.
A devious smirk crawled into her face. She left her sunhat on the counter- her chestnut hair packed in a tight, high bun- filled her cup, turned off the faucet and headed straight back outside. She returned to her little garden’s hole, placing her cup on a small, flat glass table nearby. The legs and the rim that held the transparent sheet were a steel-copper metal that shone slightly in the sun.
She kneeled before the hole and took a small packet of vegetable seeds she had kept nearby and carefully tore the bag open. Using her bare hands, she shoveled loose dirt into the small hole, filling it about halfway full. She plucked a few seeds from the packet and sprinkled them into the hole before filling it the rest of the way with more loose dirt. She reached for her glass of water, another teasing shiver bouncing up her back as her bladder kicked, tightening and pressing against her stomach ever so. She smiled as she took a small sip. She held it in her mouth for a moment, swishing it back and forth before she bent forward and spat her water onto her tomato seeds. Luckily, her house's front yard was guarded by tall, thick hedges she had grown herself over the past few years- even back in the forties, she had enjoyed gardening.The feeling of pride that came from seeing a plant of yours flourish was fantastic- shielding her from onlookers’ odd stares.
Peggy shifted over- the movement causing a twinge in her bladder- and proceeded to dig another hole of similar dimensions to the first with her trowel. She filled it back about halfway, dropped a few seeds, filled it properly, swished water and spat in onto the plants. Another, sharper twinge wracked her body, her need to go now growing more pressing. Her body was interesting in the way her need to pee worked; her body often wouldn’t tell her of her need until it was growing strong, most likely from years of discipline while on her confidential S.H.I.E.L.D. jobs. She groaned when she gripped her trowel, already doing her best to resist grabbing her crotch.
Peggy hollowed out another hole, but this time she took a sip of water every stage of the way. She had dug the hole, so she took a sip. She moved in soft dirt. Sip. Poured in a few seeds. Sip. She palmed in more dirt. Sip. She took a heavy mouthful of water and swished it around, her bladder yelling for release as she moved the water from side to side. Just to torture herself, Peggy swallowed half of her water- her bladder now pulsated occasionally, warning her of her need though her thick, luscious legs stayed apart and her deft hand stayed at her side. Her hand sucked into a fist from her building desperation. She swished her water some more and spat onto the seeds. Peggy sighed in a small happiness, but suddenly the relaxation sent a bigger-than-expected burst of her hot pee from her urethra, now angered from denial.
She moaned louder than she intended as she flexed her thighs to stop her premature accident. It was successful, but a dark mark about the size of her petite fist rested on her jeans. She bit her bottom lip when her horny vagina throbbed in need against her pee-dampened jeans. The pressure of her bladder was growing to almost unbearable levels as her fist was crushed into her pussy, the pressure somehow already near painful. The warmth that now intensified in her groin rubbed against her tight opening with every movement, almost taunting her bladder to release herself fully. Another devilish idea came to her mind when she thought of throwing in the towel and going to the washroom.
She licked her top lip and flipped her leg over her plants, another burst of pee escaping against her denim. It tickled its way down her toned thighs in thin rivulets, leaving Peggy with her eyes squeezed shut and a hand over her vagina. She stifled a moan, her pussy throbbing roughly as it became its own kind of wet and blasted its own kind of heat. Peggy bent forward as far as her body would allow, using her other hand for support as she pressed her bladder into her crotch. The pressure increased somehow further and she moaned in desperation before finally... she cracked.
There was a dull splash as her bladder began emptying. From her position, some of the liquid seeped from her jeans and down into the ground as her pussy hissed. Peggy sucked her lips in to prevent from fully moaning, although no one was currently nearby to hear if she did. Her pee continued its sharp hsss as Peggy reveled in wetting her jeans in her garden.
She suddenly remembered a dangerous fact: He would be home any minute now. And if he found her like this there would be… repercussions for her- to say the least. Peggy felt her arm unconsciously snake down her body and into her jeans to touch her flooding pussy- her other still being used for balance- rubbing her gushing opening furiously as she fervently attempted to reach an orgasm. Her hand sent splashes against her thighs and even onto her shirt, but she didn't care, because all that mattered was cumming before… ‘Sir’' came home and found her like this; wetting herself like a little bitch and trying desperately to cum- without his permission, no less.
In her pee-induced pleasure, Peggy didn't even hear a car roll to a stop in front of her house. Her clear stream was only beginning to lessen when suddenly the crisp crunch of a car door closing brought her from her other world. However, her stream was still leaking from her crotch and her hand wouldn't stop, even when Peggy did her best to pull it away. The front gate squealed upon its hinges as the sharp step of a boot came from between the hedges. Peggy steeled herself before squeezing her eyes shut and forcing her pee into her hand, creating an ungodly hkkk against her sopping jeans and her gentle hand.
Suddenly, the telltale tsk tsk tsk of a displeased Mister Wilson came from above, and her forcefulness halted, trickling down into a dribble before she looked up, her hand still resting against herself, although her pee had halted. She was too embarrassed and red-handed to meet his eyes. Though, she could tell his eyes were covered by dark, impenetrable sunglasses and his black leather jacket stayed still in the warm air. He stepped closer, causing Peggy to release a dormant squirt of piss that lurked in her bladder- that she had been doing her best to contain, no less- as she felt his dominance bleed off him in waves. Her cheeks grew hot as she sat up and forced her hand away from her burning pussy in a vain attempt to lessen her punishment, although his arms crossed before him told her he was very, very disappointed she had expected to get herself off without his permission.
He sighed sternly, and that was all that was needed to cause Peggy to gulp quietly, her pussy throbbing in excitement. He knelt down to her height and roughly brought her eyes to meet his by grabbing her chin, which she gulped excitedly at. She could only see herself reflected in his dark sunglasses, and she was pathetic. Her strong frame was shivering and weak, her blue shirt had dark spatters of piss, her light coloured jeans were soaked and her hand was wet with both kinds of her fluids. Her eyes- her shiny, brown eyes- were desperate and scared; scared of her inevitable punishment, though she knew she'd love it.
"Now get up." Sam said sternly. With all the speed she had, she jumped up and stood before him. She was only slightly shorter than him, but Sam's gaze made her feel so much smaller. He smiled evilly when her hefty breasts jumped with her. She kept her stance soldier-like as he ran his eyes over her. Without warning, his hand shot down into her jeans and gripped her flaming pussy. At first he only leisurely toyed with the short, soft hair she kept around her entrance, but he randomly dug his hand into her, feeling her warmth bleed into his fingers as he flexed her open. She grunted and almost collapsed under his rough, calloused, militarized grip, though she managed to stay standing.
"A very, very rough punishment is in order, Miss Carter." He growled- good Lord, when he growled, it was enough to make her wetter than rainfall- and tightened his grip, to the point she had to clamp her legs around his hand to stop from orgasming on the spot. She whimpered weakly- uncharacteristically weakly, especially for a woman of her stature and experience, at which her lover smiled from beneath his scowl. From behind his sunglasses she could feel his plans for her; she felt them in the sheer, dominating grip on her soaked pussy and in the glare of his eyes when he finally did bring the unfazeable glasses off his face.
“Now, strip Miss Carter, if you’re such an exhibitionist.” It wasn’t a request or a question or a notion.
It was a command, and one she would be sure to follow- lest her punishment be made worse, however much fun that would be.
My first request in honour of @Exodiuss(badass name, by the way) and an improvement from the previous piece- at least in terms of the wetter’s reaction. This piece also serves to exemplify something I spoke of in my first post, that being “I will not be writing for specific ships except my own. Any suggested characters will be applied to my personal headcanons.” Some of my personal ships are odd and off-the-wall- perhaps not even feasible in the realms of MCU canon, but isn’t that the point of fanfiction? To take our favourite characters and run marathons with them? To take these characters we already love and turn them into our own offshoots? Whether you agree or disagree with my personal headcanons and ramblings, I hope you enjoyed my first real chapter of MCU omorashi. I will be working on more chapters in the meantime (namely some for Hope Van Dyne, Natasha Romanoff and Lady Sif, so if no other requests come through expect those next). Again, any requests for a character- or even a situation if so inclined- feel free to put it to me. I’ll do my best to do them justice.
Best regards,
NothingLeft
P.S.- For those wondering, Steve did indeed go back in time to be with Peggy, but guilt over leaving his best friend (turned lover turned husband, obviously) led to him traveling back, but with his then-lover in tow. A realization of love for his childhood friend left Peggy broken-hearted but understanding, and an accidental, alcohol-fueled one-night-stand turned into a consensual, loving, incredibly kinky sub-dom relationship with Sam Wilson.
Edited May 13, 2020 by NothingLeft
(see edit history) |
Gamora
Unknown Planet
Gamora was on mission, stalking someone who had promised information to her team, the Guardians of the Galaxy. When she and Quill had gone in for the information, she had refused to give it up and sent them away. Gamora had seen this coming and planned with the others to find out why the woman had such a turn in attitude. It had been a few hours now, and Gamora’s target hadn’t moved from the small outdoor eatery she had been sitting at, except to go inside a few times- most likely to go to the washroom, as not only had she been ordering tall glasses of water every few minutes, but there was a large bubbling fountain in the center of the large courtyard. Gamora herself was beginning to feel the need to go, but her alien body and incredible cybernetic enhancements granted by… her father... allowed her to hold it for far longer than most beings.
Gamora sighed in mild boredom, but her attention perked up when a maroon-skinned thin man came to the sitting woman. He told her something she obviously couldn’t make out before she nodded and stood, brushed off her lap and followed the man. The woman looked over her shoulder before disappearing around a corner. Gamora smiled to herself before rising to follow them. She felt her bladder groan but didn’t pause.
Her open-top heels clicked menacingly yet quietly as she crossed the courtyard. Few gave her looks but simply thought she was a normal person- she was dressed normally for the warm weather on the planet; A flowy, airy, dark crimson camisole with no back and exposing cleavage as well as a matching pair of dark, legging-like tight jeans with a tight dark brown belt. Her hands and arms were decorated with tight, decorative rings and bracelets as well as dangling earrings. She had light, smoky makeup and shiny everest lipstick. Her dark hair was in a long, thick braid- thanks to Mantis, who knew where she learned that- that was tossed over her shoulder, luscious flowers courtesy of Groot. She looked like everyone else yet no one else, and that was a skill only she could ever master.
Gamora peered into the small alleyway her target had gone down only to see her sneak around another corner. Gamora sighed with irritation as her bladder nudged her again but pushed it aside and continued following, now being lighter with her footsteps. Her target was whispering from around the corner, and Gamora paused to listen.
“You talked to The Guardians!” The man sneered to her. The woman- Gamora’s target-spoke, sounding like she was on the verge of stabbing her accomplice.
“I’m sorry! I had no choice, Andolin’s going too far with the operation! I want out and others do too! But I stopped because you told me to!”
“Yeah, but will you next time?” He whispered. Gamora edged herself closer to the turn to her target and stopped again when it sounded like one of them was slammed against the wall. “Cause next time…”
There was the drawing of a dagger.
Gamora quickly whipped around and drew her sword, almost as if it appeared out of the air. To the throat of the man she pointed her blade, and he immediately dropped his own. The woman cried out and fell backwards, though she caught herself again. As she settled her stance, Gamora felt her bladder bubble with its contents, but she kept herself steady and her face neutral
“That is my target. You kill her, I kill you, we both lose.“ She emphasized her last word to try and sound as sympathetic as possible, though that wasn’t much, as a blade pointed to your throat spoke louder than a dime-a-dozen phrase.
“Whoah, woah, woah lady, chill. Look, this-” he motioned with his dagger- his other hand raised in surrender- to Gamora’s target and himself, “-is just business as usual.” Gamora scoffed; that wasn’t the first time she had heard that phrase and she was willing to bet folding money that it wouldn’t be the last.
“ Yeah. My business-”
Wrong choice of words.
“-and I’m not letting this slip through my fingers.” She warned, adjusting her stance uncomfortably.Neither noticed, thankfully, but the need was beginning to make its presence known. After this, she was definitely going to find a bathroom.
“Okay, lady, look. I’ll give you her, and I… Get to leave,” the man proposed, dropping his dagger with an irritating clatter. Gamora’s target breathed a little easier.
Gamora only wished she could have afforded herself the same luxury.
“Good terms.” Gamora stated, retracting her sword and resuming a normal stance- a bit too quickly for her heaving bladder. She swallowed the mild discomfort and shooed the man away. He quickly turned and ran, leaving his dagger on the ground. The woman sighed and closed her eyes as she asked,
“I’m sorry about before.”
Gamora had to physically restrain her eye roll. “It’s fine, what matters is that you come now and give me that tip you know,” She told, placing her hands on her hips.
“I-I can’t leave- my sisters still need me. But, I can still tell you what I know.” The woman sighed. Gamora’s throat bobbed when the woman mentioned a sister.
“I understand, familial bonds are strong. What do you know?”
“These pirates hunt drugs and sell ‘em on the galactic black market for three of four times their worth or price. I-I-I work at a diner, so I overheard some… some lowlifes talking about their runs…”
Gamora nodded as if just learning this information, but she and the rest of the Guardians had known since the pirate hunt began that they were drug-runners.
“And, and so… I don’t know if it’s true, but… But I heard that the leader pilots a small ship that goes faster than most, and it’s called ‘The Icicle’. It’s ice-blue and red, cone-shaped with… overcompensating artillery.” The woman finished, breathing a little easier with the load off of her chest.
“And’ that’s all?” Gamora questioned, irritation edging in her voice- despite the incredibly helpful info- due to her bladder growing more needy with every passing minute. The woman nodded with a small smile. Gamora returned the smile- however forced it felt- and paid the woman three thousand units- the reward price for all related information. She breathed a heavy sigh and thanked Gamora. The green-skinned Guardian waved her away and the woman obeyed. Gamora half-smiled and half-grimaced when she felt a pang from her lower abdomen.
She needed a bathroom.
Now that she was alone, Gamora let her guard down. She threw one of her long, slender legs over the other and bent down to hold herself more efficiently. She let out a low sigh and cleared her throat. Her bladder ached with pressure as Gamora stood straight and took her hand from her groin.
“Dammit… Why couldn’t it be a planet I know…” She grumbled to herself. This planet, well, she didn’t even know the name of this planet, let alone where the bathrooms were and when one would be available.
‘The diner,’ she thought. The diner her target had been sitting outside of, that had to have a bathroom. Gamora walked out of the alleyway, making sure she didn’t appear too suspicious… or desperate, for that matter.
But, as she approached the door, she noticed the windows dark. On the door was a sheet, and she deciphered the language. It was a timetable telling when the eatery was open. This odd planet appeared to have a similar day cycle to Terra- a twenty-four hour cycle- and it was open from eight AM to ten PM. Gamora peered through a darkened window, and the time was revealed to be ten-eighteen.
Gamora groaned in frustration. It was going to take a bit more than that, apparently.
Forty-Five Minutes Later…
The green-skinned Guardian had been searching the town for well close to an hour for a damn bathroom, yet nothing applicable had presented itself to her- despite her searching. Either none had existed, or, when they did, they were inside homes or inside closed businesses. But, at this point, she was willing to turn back to the alleyway she had interrogated her target.
“Damn it…” Gamora whined to herself. Her holding was subtle as she searched; Her long legs would occasionally cross and her hands would grasp her hips. To an onlooker, she simply looked bored or antsy, not necessarily ’pee-desperate’- yet, at least. She stood outside a large restaurant, looking at what seemed to be the latest in a never-ending line of ‘Closed’ signs. Her bladder was frequently sending rolls of pain and discomfort through her to communicate its fullness. Gamora subtly felt her lower stomach, feeling a hard, pained surface she believed to be her bladder.
As she felt it, another pang hit that told her it was a necessity to find a bathroom, or else her bladder… Wouldn’t discriminate. She groaned again and resisted the urge to physically hold herself.
‘Alleyway it is!’
She began moving- swiftly at first, but her bladder reminded her that fast wasn’t an option. Eventually, her walking led her indeed back to the alley, though it was farther than she thought. It had taken ten minutes to find it, and now she couldn’t stop herself from holding with her hands. Her jeans dug into her waist and into her bladder, causing flares of pain every time her bladder pulsed with warning. She approached the alleyway, watching behind her to be sure no perverts were stalking her. No one had even seen her come back, as no one had been around due to everything’s closing.
Gamora sighed and moved further into the alley. When she was out of view of the courtyard, Gamora went down to unbutton her jeans… And her belt was in the way. A heavy shiver went up her back, causing her entire body to shake. She whimpered as more pain rolled into her body, moving her hands to her thin, tight belt. She tried to pull the belt far enough from her body to undo it, but the strength needed to do that was almost too much, as the exertion caused a cry from her bladder.
Panicked, Gamora bent over with her hands in her crotch and her legs crossed. She groaned in pain and in an attempt to keep her bladder’s contents in her until she was free of her pants. The feeling didn’t pass for a few minutes, and when it did she warily rose. Her hands shot to her belt, but it was too taut against her belly and her hands were shaking from desperation. She needed to go so goddamn bad and it was hurting, like a knife was stuck in her bladder.
“No, no, please…” She spoke through her teeth as her thin, shaking fingers fought with her belt. Finally, she managed to grip the belt and pull its excess through the loops she had tucked it in. The buckle was tight and pressed against her belly, and when she tried to pull the belt from the buckle, it pinched her skin. She yelped quietly and the pain caused a small spurt to escape her. She whimpered in denial as her crotch warmed, though she managed to reseal herself. She sucked her lips in preparation to see her damage, but she couldn’t help the small whimper of disappointment in herself when she saw a blurry dark spot on the seam of her jeans.
“No…” A blast of need shot through her and her hands fell back to her belt, careful not to pinch herself again. She pulled it away and tried to undo her belt, but the shaking in her hands kept allowing it to slip. She whimpered louder as the swelling in her bladder caused more pain, and now her legs absolutely had to stay crossed for sheer containment.
“No, no, no!” She begged, still fumbling with her belt as she bounced- yes, the deadliest woman in the galaxy was bouncing on her crossed legs because she was on the verge of pissing her pants in an unknown planet’s alleyway-on her foot, her hands now futily scratching at her belt. The contents of her bladder were bubbling and boiling, just waiting to exit- but she wouldn’t, she would not let herself lose control, not until she had her pants down, not until she was-
She was-
Gamora looked down in sheer terror as warmth flooded her thighs. Her breath hitched, and very nearly stopped, as the crimson jeans wrapping her legs dyed darker, shining in the dying light. A hissing, alongside a noisy pattering, filled the alleyway as Gamora slowly began wetting herself. She was silent, still in sheer realization` as a puddle darkened the ground beneath her, flowing between divides in the cobblestone. Gamora’s back slowly hit the wall behind her as her bottom lip quivered, her bladder draining noisily into her jeans. Her crotch was viciously heated and her toned, round ass grew soaked as Gamora fell into a sit- not without a dull splash in her shame- and focused ruthlessly on the puddle surrounding her.
Though, through fighting tears, Gamora felt her bladder ache with relief. The ensuing emptiness was so nice, but her mind fell back to the fact… She was pissing her pants. Even as a young child, she had never, never wet herself. Her throat bobbed with shame when her vagina gurgled and a blast of piss arced through her pants, splashing a few inches outside her puddle. A single tear slowly fell from her eye and down her cheek.
She would never live this down. Not from others- no one else would know- but herself. She knew that this would always live in the back of her mind. While she swore herself to secrecy, her emptying bladder slowly began quieting, the splashing and pattering of her urine coming to a slow trickle over a minute or two. The trickle tickled the most sensitive area of her thigh in an odd manner that her subconscious wasn’t quite sure it hated, but her conscious mind forced her to hate it with despair and sadness.
The trickle eventually ceased, leaving Gamora’s thighs warm and drenched. Gamora stood- her legs were quivering with release and shame- with the help of the wall. She stood, her heels creating a soft splish as she stepped in her shame. She willed her beating heart to calm and she looked at her darkened jeans with disgust.
“What did I do…” She sighed sadly. She would have to wait for her jeans to dry before contacting the other Guardians- who were in the atmosphere of the mystery planet waiting for her to contact- lest Rocket and Drax tease her six feet under. She looked at her jeans a final time and wondered to herself if the jeans would ever dry.
As the first piece posted I wrote from scratch, I hope it pleased @Zuorsara. The ending was definitely the better kind of omorashi endings- the wetter alone and ashamed (I may house a little sadism, but don't all writers?). Regardless, I hope all enjoyed. Feel free to request any character or situation desired. Also, if no other requests come in the meantime I've decided to create a Sif piece, and that should be coming soon.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Lady Sif
Empty Dining Hall, New Asgard
Thor and Sif found themselves in the heat of passion late into the night, kissing fervently and losing clothing quickly. Thor discarded his chest plate, allowing his re-emerging muscles to breathe as he heaved Sif's gentle frame onto a table. Even with his added heft, Thor was magnificent to admire. Sif had discarded her chestplate as well, only a complicated Aesir breast-buckle censoring her perky bust. She quickly undid the ropes holding it together and allowed it to fall, revealing her small, erect nipples and supple areolas.
Thor undid the front seal of his pants, unleashing his meaty, hefty Aesir penis. It was thicker and longer than an average human’s, and even by Aesir standards it was impressive. There was a fat, glistening drop of precum edging from the eye. Sif took it readily in her gentle, petite fingers and basked as Thor moaned animalistically. She rubbed her hand down his hard, veiny shaft before rising again and swiping the glob of precum on his tip, rubbing it into her palm with her thumb. She ran her small, slippery hand down the almost impossibly thick shaft- her hand barely wrapped two-thirds of the way around the mighty, godlike organ.
Sif quickly dragged her trousers down just past her vagina, reveling as the cool air hit her hot, velvety gates. She released Thor’s erection from her silky grasp and had to stop herself from engulfing it entirely when it throbbed manically, lusting after her silky touch. Thor dove against his lover’s mouth and grappled her tongue against his, and Sif gasped against Thor’s mouth when his large godhood, reddened and swollen from her teasing foreplay, slapped her moistening entrance. She felt her own dull throbbing just below her stomach, but in the moment she thought it was just arousal. As Thor’s godhood rubbed her vagina lengthwise, Sif threw her head back and moaned as loud as her body ached for. Thor couldn’t restrain himself any longer and readied himself to enter, leaning above her with fists beside her slim hips. One glance up to Sif’s loving gaze and a nod was all he needed before he shoved himself in. There was a crisp, wet slap as the lovers’ sweaty thighs made contact for the first time in too long.
Three days was too long.
Sif screamed in pleasure and slight shock as she felt herself already orgasming. At least, that’s what she thought it was at first. In actuality, Thor’s thrust had sent a shock wave to her bladder and hit it just wrong- or so, so right- causing it to empty. Sif didn't notice she had to pee through her blind horniness but she began panicking when she couldn't stop her gushing accident from happening.
“Thor!” She screamed in equal panic and pleasure when the realization hit her. Her head fell back as Thor continued, but before he could assure her, there were gurgling splashes as Sif’s boiling urine rushed from her vagina, blocked by Thor's godly meat. Thor smiled and chuckled breathily when he realized: that
He made Sif wet herself.
Her urine splashed over both of their abdomens from Thor’s forceful thrusts, as well as splashing heavily against Sif’s pants, drenching her dark-blue panties with the warm, yellow liquid. Every time he entered and retreated from her warm, squishy insides, he sent a wave of her amber liquid over the both of them. Thor only continued as his lover’s sputters intensified, and it was then Sif realized…
Thor was enjoying himself. He was enjoying the fact that Asgard’s best warrior had been made to wet herself. During sex. And the worst part was that… Sif was loving it too. The freeing feeling as the pressure she had unwittingly gathered disintegrated, combined with the pleasure of Thor’s brutal thrusts and the splashing of her pee as it soaked into her trousers, her panties and spattered onto the floor beneath them. It created a beautiful symphony of feelings within that made her want to pee again just to recreate the sensation. But her stream was faltering as her bladder emptied, and yet Thor continued.
“Are you enjoyin’- AH- this? Me wetting all over the both of… FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” She screamed as Thor repeatedly- almost painfully- hit her most sensitive spot. Her back arched electrically as Thor ruthlessly sucked a true orgasm from her, a small amount more of Sif’s urine splashing from her in combination with a thick, white liquid from deep inside. She couldn’t help herself any longer and reached to her chest, ruthlessly squeezing her stiff, throbbing, aching nipples to satiate her unending lust
“Yes! I’m loving this, Sif. I never knew I would but- oh, God- I love you!” He shouted, approaching his climax quickly. “I mean, I had a feeling, but now… Fuck! I want to see you do it on your own!” He yelled sporadically. The idea sent another wave of hot arousal through Sif’s body. She really, really wanted to have to pee again, but instead she moaned and wrapped her arms around Thor’s meaty shoulders and pressed her chest to his, unknowingly putting her G-spot directly in the path of his godlike penis. Like a dead-eye he struck it every time and Sif felt her eyes roll back into her head with deadly force as another perfect orgasm sent violent spasms through her muscles. Goosebumps rose all over her as Thor whispered,
“Sif, I have to… I’m gonna-” She bit his neck and shouted,
“In me! Cum in me!” Thor moaned as the line he had wanted Sif to shout damn near his entire life erupted from her pleasure-wracked mouth once again. Thor gripped Sif’s shoulders as his testicles swelled before a superhuman blast of Aesir semen was magmatically shot into Sif’s vagina. Sif felt her muscles fail as she slumped against Thor's shoulder, the thick liquid quickly filling her vagina, leaking out of the opening as Thor’s penis twitched and drained within her.
Immediately, Sif dropped from the table he had settled her on and fell to her knees, engulfing Thor’s cock in her swollen mouth. Her head was light and spinning as she tasted a cornucopia of flavours- the saltiness of his sperm, the sweetness of her own juices, and the bitterness of her own urine. It was an odd sensation, but one that Sif reveled in as she licked Thor clean. She pushed her mouth down to Thor's balls- which she tauntingly flicked with her tongue as she gagged, not to mention that the sweaty, manly smell of pure distilled Thor was a drug stronger than anything possible in physical form- before she pulled back, allowing the fluids that had gone onto her lips to settle on them. She knew she looked like a complete slut, a dime-per-fuck whore who loved to be used, but for only Thor- her God- would she look like this; Ruffled, messy hair, heaving reddened chest, burning loins and a stained, messy, cum-painted face.
Thor fell back against another table as Sif sat on her knees before him, her hands on her thighs innocently. Her sharp-angled jaw dripped a small spatter of his thick cum and her clear juices- of both kinds- when Sif flicked her agile, small tongue out and got what she could off of her cheeks and lips. The movement displaced some and forced the aforementioned glob of their intoxicating concoction to fall from under her nose onto her thighs with a small splatter.
Sif smiled as a sudden shiver forced whatever remained in her burning pussy out. A quick, powerful spurt of her thick juice and Thor's indescribable semen spattered onto the back of her pants with a quick, quiet spchh. She rose before her God, wiping her mouth fully and licking her fingers eagerly, tasting the remarkable combined flavour once again.
“I believe you should wet yourself again, Lady Sif.” Thor sighed quietly.
Sif grinned with a teasing, filthy grin. “Then I need to wet myself, my Lord.” Thor smiled and kissed Sif gently, He massaged the small of her back and Sif gripped his thick biceps as they both came down from their newfound, kinky high. Sif placed herself on Thor's thigh, carefully massaging her tender, almost sore pussy on his thick limb, more in a soothing manner than a horny one.
She had hated being away from him for however long it had been- not counting the millennium and a half it took them to finally begin loving, though all those years it had taken just made this connection they shared all the more romantic and- as Midgardians said, “Shakespearean”- and now that they were together in the most deep and genuine way fathomable, she was letting nothing separate them.
Her God of Thunder.
His Goddess of War.
A love to be written in tales- though perhaps without the graphic details and kinkiness.
Then again, those were some of the best parts.
Well, there we are. The most sexually graphic story so far and not the last of its kind, I can assure. If anyone was taken aback by the sexual content, I apologize, and I could start putting sexual warnings if desired. Regardless, another piece of my ninety-prompt workload out in a place where they can be seen and read. I'm unsure what to work on after this, so I may post a pre-written piece whilst I await another request- in that case, expect a piece for Pepper, Ava or Mantis coming next. Any and all requests that obey the rules in the post's genesis are welcome.
P.S.- I acknowledge that there is a severe personality change in Sif from Thor: The Dark World, and the only applicable excuse I can grant is that after one-and-a-half thousand years of pining and lusting and dirty midnight fantasies, both Thor and Sif wouldn't want to waste a moment, and they trust the bond between them to be invincible and unbreaking, no matter what lashing it receives, so they trust each other enough to have divulged every one of their aforementioned dirty fantasies. Sif wants nothing more than to be all Thor wants while staying the fierce warrior she knows they both want, while Thor realizes what he turned his back on for centuries and now wishes to make up for lost time, wanting to be all Sif desires and has desired since she knew what sex was. They love each other more than either can fathom, explain or justify, but they don't care about rationality. They don't care about what others think- whether it's that Sif is handing herself over too readily, or that they go too far, or that their 'love' just 'use and abuse'. They love each other, and they're willing to be radical, devoted- scarily so- and dangerously loyal. They are willing and ready to do everything and anything to prove their love. They already know it to be a truth and law, but this... Wild, kinky and almost offensive sex is meant to be a message; A message for the universe. A message to whatever overlords and superancient, transcendent beings watch over them.
They love each other, and nothing- not Odin, not Thanos, not Ultron, not even Lady Death herself- can break their bond. A bond forged in the most blazing of forges, with the wisest of hands and with the finest of tools. A bond forged from recesses of childhood and strengthened through battle, side-by-side. Though thought fractured, they've come, now, after lifetimes of wanting- needing each other, they've come together, and they both know that life- even such as lengthy as theirs- is a dot in the universe.
A speck. A molecule. A blip...
A bond.
Apologies for the length of this post-story message. A few of those I've asked to read this over before posting have said the relationship feels toxic and one-sided, so I've had this on my chest for a few days. I hope this... rant didn't dampen any moods, and have a good day.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Shuri
Shuri's Lab
Shuri slurped up the last of an uncounted cup of coffee, busying herself with an important project. With T'Challa joining the Avengers- which was absolutely a dream of hers ever since 2012, when they defended New York City from an alien invasion as only a team of six. She remembered only being twelve, and seeing a very real news report of something every kid had made stories and games about was… Almost ethereal.
As was her current project.
She was working on a few pieces for other Avengers T’Challa had recommended. After a look at Tony’s Stark mark one-hundred-thirteenth Iron Man armour- his current suit was the one-sixteenth- she stood impressed by the colonizer’s ingenuity. While she could have made more impressive armour with her vibranium resources, she would admit- never to anyone’s face though- that if she had the same resources, she would have made similar advancements. But something that had been incredibly interesting to her is that when she analyzed the ‘arc reactors’- the suit’s power sources- she found that they were powered by vibranium. Vibranium that he had made in his basement!
How he knew how to make the metal, or how it even existed in the first place? Apparently his father made Captain America’s invincible shield- leave it to a war-profiteering colonizer to make an unbreakable frisbee for an asthmatic patriot on super-steroids- but all her research told her that Howard Stark had left no records of vibranium, so how Tony got ahold of the formula was beyond her.
Either way, Shuri was working on a prototype for a miniaturized version of her panther gauntlets to make them more efficient and portable- heaving around seven-pound weights constantly was getting to her a little bit- and she was getting close to her final design. Her hands held two precision tools, all of her focus dedicated to the complex inner workings of her new weapons. Only a small bit of wiring was needed to finish them, and she was so close to-
Her hands faltered when her kimoyo beads chirped on her wrist, causing a spark from her prototypes. She groaned loudly at the regression of her work, her anger rising as she took the call.
Her voice was irritated and sharp as she shouted, “T’Challa, you screwed up my new gauntlets! I swear to Bast, if this isn’t important-”
“Oh-ho, a little feisty, aren’t we?” She was taken aback as the deeper, more baritone voice of her recently-married husband, M’Baku, reached her ears. She suddenly felt bad for yelling as his form appeared in a hologram projected by the beads.
“Oh, M’Baku! I’m sorry, T’Challa has been all over me lately.” She sighed shortly, putting her tools down and rubbing her eyes. She felt a sudden tension in her shoulders as well and exhaled at the new tightness.
“Ah, it’s okay. But, are you, my Queen?” He asked, his voice concerned and smooth. “You look tense, even through this… Magic,” He joked. Even with the reunion of Wakanda and the Jabari, there was still some division between their people, as many Jabari- about as many as had embraced it- were wary and doubtful of technology. M’Baku was willing to give technology a shot, and thanks to his wisdom and ability to put things in perfect words- he was incredibly convincing, especially when he was between her legs in any manner- Shuri had realized the importance of Wakanda’s ancient traditions.
She felt almost foolish for thinking the way she did, but she knew dwelling would do her no good. Instead she smiled warmly at her husband’s hologram. It had been a year and a half since the Battle Of Earth, which meant a year and a half since he had been revived from his fate. She remembered it all too well…
May 2018, Wakanda
Shuri breathed hard as the battle raged around them. The hideous creatures the aliens had sent to fight- those that weren’t dead or dismembered from the shield or warriors were wild and rabid, almost unthinking. Her mind was rushing to take everything in- she had been doing her best to dismantle the Vision’s stone when a slim alien dressed in black with a spear had broken into her facility and taken him away after a woman in red had leapt from one of the windows. Now, she had her heavy panther gauntlets and was doing her best to kill the… whatever they were. Around her she saw a blonde woman in a dark olive catsuit fighting off the attacking aliens with two electric batons- Black Widow- the woman from her lab, with ginger hair and a red trench coat using red power from her hands- the Scarlet Witch- and Sergeant Barnes, firing his new machine gun with a bloody passion.
The numbers of the aliens were beginning to slowly dwindle, and they were close to victory. Above her, Thor used his new weapon to blow up one of the conical landing ships full of aliens, sending singed scraps of the bodies all over the field. Over the comm Rogers had given her to communicate, she heard Bruce Banner- who was in a version of Tony Stark’s “Hulk-Buster”- whisper,
“Cap. That’s him.” Over the radio, Steve commanded to the other Avengers,
“Eyes up, stay sharp. Everyone on me.” Shuri didn’t ask twice and started off towards Steve, but stopped as M’Baku, leader of the Jabari, stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Where are you going?” He asked, looking around the battlefield as the other Avengers moved to Rogers’ position. “What is happening?” He looked back to her, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“He’s here.” She spoke ominously. His face hardened and he swallowed with wariness. “You can’t go there, you’ll… you will die,” M’Baku warned, holding Shuri tightly. Her throat ducked as he spoke the truth she didn’t want to admit; She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold her own against Thanos. If the Hulk couldn’t…
“I… I can’t stay, I... “ She stopped. She didn’t want to die, but if she didn’t go… No, she had to go.
“Please, I can’t lose you. They are incredibly powerful, they can handle him. Stay,” He begged. Over the past two years, they had fallen for each other, and her paying visit after visit to Jabari-Land- due to M’Baku’s obligations and things expected of him- they had become intimate quite a few times. After all of that, he couldn’t let her walk into the deadliest being the universe had ever fought,
Shuri froze for a moment, truly and actually considering what her lover was saying. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay where it was safe, but the warrior’s spirit within her was telling her, ‘Go. Fight.’
Her own spirit won out.
“We fight- here- together. We let the strong do battle we cannot,” M’Baku whispered, twirling his weapon in his hand. Shuri nodded and looked up to him, their ten-inch difference in height commanding Shuri to physically look up to meet her lover’s eyes.
“Together.”
“Always, my love.”
Not five minutes later, she has her hands against his massive frame as he faded into colourless dust. That day, she also learned that her brother, the godlike Black Panther, had also died to Thanos’ snap, as he had stolen the Mind Stone from Vision despite the Avengers’ best efforts. That night, were it not for Okoye- T’Challa’s closest friend aside from herself- Shuri would have ended her life.
Present
Shuri shook off the despondent memory and laughed to herself. “So, what are you calling for, my love?” She asked, smiling warmly. M’Baku wore a knowing smile and scratched the back of his neck.
“Well…” There was silence before M’Baku’s communication was cut. She looked at her kimoyo beads in confusion before M’Baku’s voice boomed through her empty laboratory.
“I thought I’d show up in person.” He was dressed in surprisingly modern clothes, and his hair was freshly cut, curly and fresh. As he came closer, Shuri could smell the sheer man he constantly and amazingly smelled like. “Besides, T’Challa told me you were working yourself half to death.” He sighed, rubbing her back with his massive hand. She sighed in attempted relaxation, but her body was simply too tense, and M’Baku felt it in her shoulder blade.
“Dear lord, you are tense,” He commented, pressing her shoulder a bit harder, relieving a small piece of her overworked tension. Shuri sighed a bit easier in response, nodding slowly as she put her head in her hand. M’Baku laughed through his nose and moved behind his wife, his strong hands moving up and down her back. They came to wrap around the apex of her shoulders, just beside her neck.
He squeezed her shoulders and she had to hold back a moan.
It wasn’t a sexual moan, but it was one of pure satisfaction. Shuri bit her lip and gasped, M’Baku laughing slowly behind her. “There we go, my Queen,” He commented, now slowly working her shoulders. With every pinch and squeeze more of her tension snapped away, and it wasn’t long until she released a low sigh that bordered on being a breathy groan. M’Baku continued working on her shoulders, and a particularly effective gentle jab with his thumb into a hard spot brought out a solid moan, Shuri no longer able to hold her sounds back.
Her husband, growing more confident, coaxed her up to stand. Her legs quivered once, but she managed to rise with his help. He stood behind her, but his hands remained on her shoulders, squeezing and relaxing them with incredible grip. Shuri didn’t notice his left hand fall from her right shoulder until she felt a tug on the side of the waistband of her white shorts-which were quite short, barely passing her hips. Were she to spread her legs more than a few inches, her chocolatey vagina's luscious lips would no doubt poke out, as she had foregone panties again, for what seemed like another consecutive time in a month- and M’Baku could very much see that.
“Mm, these are quite short, my love…” He purred in her ear, still working her shoulder. Shuri nodded slowly, her head lolling to the side from her washing tension. Before she could properly respond, a sudden shiver shot up and down her spine for a reason Shuri least expected. Her bladder, which hadn’t made a sound since she had begun her work, suddenly blared the most intense siren she had ever felt. Her legs clamped together with a mousy squeak coming from her mouth.
“Are you alright?” M’Baku muttered, concerned he had overstepped- he certainly hadn’t, as Shuri had been having daydreams of him powering through her right on her desk as of late- but she gasped in a sigh when her bladder contracted painfully.
“Ah, I… No, no, I just…” She gritted her teeth as M’Baku’s thick fingers ghosted the warmth her heated pussy was emanating. She wanted him to touch her, but she feared what would happen were she to unclench her legs. “I have to… I have to pee...” She swallowed thickly when she felt her husband grin against her neck.
“Really… All this time alone, and you didn’t feel-” M’Baku’s hand drifted down from her shoulder, under her small, perky breast, down her lean torso and over her bladder, where he massaged it laxly “-this?” He chuckled. “How did this happen?”
“I was so tense and focused, I…” She bit her lip when her bladder pulsed warningly against his rough hand. “I just didn’t notice… But your massage, it… Loosened things up,” She sighed when his hand in her waistband passed through and gently grasped her left asscheek. “I-I have to go, M’Baku,” She moaned as she felt his dexterous thumb and thick middle finger spread her lithe gluts apart, her tightened hole now accessible to him. She felt his index circle around her taboo entrance, wringing a moaning breath from her- though it was tainted with the pain of her full bladder.
“So go, I see nothing stopping you…” M’Baku whispered scandalously as his hand allowed her ass to resettle, He withdrew his hand from her shorts and brought it up to her mouth, presenting her his index finger. Recently, they had both agreed to attempt things with her ass, so she had been incredibly diligent in cleaning her anus in the past few weeks- she knew it to be clean. Momentarily entering a primal, horny mode, she took his finger in and lubricated it with her hot, slippery spit. Her husband smiled at her readiness and hastily moved back down to her ass. He spread it once more and caressed the tight hole with his wet finger.
“I can’t just… Go here, M’Baku… I have to… Go,” She sighed. She didn’t mean leave anymore, Hell, she probably wouldn’t make it anymore. All she wanted was for her husband to get on with his unspoken promise, and for her rapidly-approaching release. He torturously poked her rear’s entrance again, sucking another moan from her- though this one of irritation. His right hand, which rested on her hard, full bladder, moved down and into her pants, caressing her true entrance. Her vagina was warm and shaky with the pressure it was holding back.
“Come now, my love. You’ve done worse acts in worse places, no?” He taunted, bringing forth memories- there had been a time a few months ago when they had had sex in Wakanda’s royal garden, and another where M’Baku had fingered her to orgasm several times under a table at an eat-in restaurant, and another when she had given him a blowjob in an open hallway of the royal palace. But this was more. This wasn’t just voyeuristic desires and risky public sex, this was going against something she had learned to act against and prevent for over twenty years- though there were, of course, a few incidents in her childhood from stupidity, rebellion or mishap.
Peeing her pants.
Just the expression alone felt juvenile and immature, but when M’Baku’s finger finally, slowly slipped inside her ass, she felt her fate come ever closer. She wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea- she was willing to give anything a first chance- but, should they be caught in the act, it wouldn’t merely result in T’Challa giving her a stern talking-to about being reckless. She would be ridiculed and mocked by her lab assistants, possibly by the people of Wakanda should word get out.
“Okay, okay. Just…. Please let me lock the lab door…” She moaned as M’Baku pushed his finger further inside, her raging asshole tight and strangling on his thick finger.
“It was done as soon as I entered…” She breathed a shaky, pained sigh but it morphed into a high moan as M’Baku moved his right hand over Shuri’s flaming, locked pussy, massaging the tense lips and pushing ever deeper inside her tight anus. It felt like a vice on either side of her and in her, and she wouldn’t be able to hold it any longer as her muscles were beginning to tire.
“Okay, okay.” She sighed in relief, her bladder screaming for release. She did her best to relax her thighs, but her brain simply wouldn’t let her. Every subconscious voice told her ‘No, no, no! Wait for a toilet!’ She pushed her bladder from within, but all she received was a flaming pain from denial.
“I can’t… My… It won’t let me…” She sighed. She no longer wished to flee to a washroom- though that thought had never really entered her head to begin with- she now just wanted what her body was screaming for to just start already. M’Baku nodded from her shoulder and finally reached the end of his left index finger, his knuckles now pressed to her cheek as he rested fully inside her tight, molten-hot asshole. He curled his finger from within her and ripped a shrill, piercing moan from her lips. His hand on her pussy pressed against, reveling in the feeling of the hairless, smooth surface.
“Perhaps I can help…” He pulled apart her lips with his index and ring fingers before sliding his middle inside her. Shuri felt her bladder spasm in response, but it stayed shut with a wrack of pain. M’Baku pressed in as far as his finger could reach- her body would have rejoiced at the feeling had her bladder not been hard, tight and commanding. He curled his middle finger up, jabbing her insides into her bladder gently.
“That’s- Oh Bast!” She shouted in primal panic as her muscles finally failed. She felt a hot rush of pee spray against her husband’s hand and spatter loudly and uncaringly into her shorts. The boiling liquid rushed up against M’Baku’s wrist and splashed over the lip of her shorts and rushed down her silky, ebony legs, pattering and splashing deafeningly against the floor of her lab. As the pee rushed down her smooth, quivering thighs to splash noisily on the floor, Shuri felt her husband piston both hands’ fingers in and out of her orifices, forcing her to release screams of pleasure. Her legs shook violently as her bladder furiously pushed its long-held contents into her clothes, onto her lover’s hand and relentlessly, ceaselessly, hellaciously echoing around the room as a puddle grew around her feet.
Shuri moaned again as the constant pulsing of her lover’s fingers in her vagina- and especially in her burning ass- alongside the rushing, spurting spray of piss drenching her white shorts- they were beyond soaked and were now better defined as ‘waterlogged’- sent a paralyzing orgasm up her back. She fell back against M’Baku’s thick, sturdy body, accidentally pushing her finger in her ass somehow deeper, which she moaned limply at. The gushing from her vagina was beginning to lessen, the constant- almost rhythmic- splashing beginning to die down. Her pelvic muscles were sore and weak, absolutely helpless and aching when Shuri’s subconscious tried to clench the constant, slow flow out of her vagina.
Her thighs were tickled by the flowing liquid, reveling even more as her pussy’s slowly lessening flow reduced to a mere trickle. They stayed like that- M’Baku standing, Shuri only half-cognizant in his arms and her vagina leaking practically incontinently. M’Baku slowly retracted his index finger from his wife’s anus, which brought a shredded, tired whine.
“Well, that was… I’m glad you let that happen, my love,” M’Baku whispered, kissing Shuri’s neck lovingly in an attempt to bring her back. She only nodded quickly, her legs not even close to strong enough to support her. M’Baku bent down and brought her into his arms much like he did when he married her.
“Mmm…” Shuri moaned as a small leak, the last of her urine from her weakened pussy rolled across her hip and down her ass before it dripped into the puddle beneath her. “The mess… I….” She whimpered, barely able to form proper words.
“I will handle it, my dear. This was my idea to begin with,” He commented slowly, kissing her forehead. “Now, you live in your lab, do you have a bed in it?” He jokingly asked with a smile.
Shuri nodded tiredly and pointed to a small unmarked door. M’Baku brought her to the door, and Shuri managed to open it. Inside was not much- a bed, an average-sized dresser and a small, technologically complex hamper, of sorts. With one hand, M’Baku managed to wriggle down Shuri’s soaked shorts, dropping them to the floor with a wet schlap. Her black t-shirt was wetted around the bottom hem- no doubt from M’Baku’s wild fingering- so he did his best to pull it off of her head. She lifted herself up by wrapping her arms around his thick neck before resettling into his arms and raising her own so he could finally tug her shirt off. As well as she could, Shuri kicked off her shoes, which were wet as well. It took three tries, but her right shoe clattered on the floor. The left took five before it joined its partner. M’Baku smiled as he laid her down on her plush bed before looking for a towel or cloth of any kind within the room.
“On the… door,” Shuri whispered. Her husband looked to the door before rising and looking to its back. Indeed there was a dry, white towel hanging on a small hook. He drew it off of the hook and reapproached his lover, who spread her legs subconsciously. M’Baku smiled as Shuri’s vagina peeked open with the most brief, soft stch. He carefully dried the remaining urine off of her vagina- smiling at a worn, broken moan breaking from his wife’s from its oversensitivity due to easily the strongest orgasm she ever had- her succulent, ebony thighs and the base of her sore, aching, weak bladder.
“How was that, my love?” M’Baku whispered in Shuri’s ear. She could only groan happily and laugh weakly, pulling him as best she could to lay beside her. Before he followed his wife, M’Baku closed the door, bathing them both in darkness. M’Baku picked up his petite wife with a single arm, hand positioned on her ass for leverage, and brought the covers up, before laying her back underneath them. He removed his own shirt, allowing his muscles to breathe, before climbing in bed beside her. Immediately she pressed her warm, nude, sore form against him and sighed, falling asleep almost immediately.
M’Baku smiled as his wife breathed deeply. He loved her, more than any woman he had ever met, and he would do anything for her. Before drifting to sleep himself, M’Baku smiled as he played with his wife’s straight, calm, chocolatey hair.
He loved her, so much, and he would die- again- to protect her.
So, I have done as @desperation_fan so kindly requested, and I apologize for the late upload. I won't make excuses or drown you with personal tales, just please pardon me for the tardiness- same with the 'Gamora' chapter, I fell asleep before I could post it when I finished it- and I apologize. Regardless, if you want to see a character from the first post's list or a situation for a character- or both if you desire- then please let me know.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Mary Jane Watson
Ontario Highway
Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Gwen Stacy- Ned’s girlfriend of a few months- and Mary Jane Watson were seated comfortably in Ned’s new van he had purchased just a few days ago, now headed to… Somewhere. To be honest, they didn’t really have a plan for anywhere to go, but they were going- that’s for sure, they were going- but where? Ned had apparently entered Canada a few miles ago, but where else?
“Who cares?” Ned responded to Peter, who had just asked the pertinent question. Gwen, who was in the passenger seat giggled to herself in excitement. Mary Jane Watson, who was seated across from Peter- Ned’s van was an interesting model, as the back seats were more like benches seated along the sides, and could seat three each. The way out of the van were the back doors, which swung out- gave an ‘of course’ look, which he breathed a laugh at.
Ever since a team of six maniacs- Mysterio, Vulture, Green Goblin, Scorpion, Rhino and Electro- managed to plot against him and the Avengers, taking his lover, Michelle, Peter had felt… Empty, joyless and broken without Michelle’s absence. But Aunt May didn’t stand for his sadness and moping, and had actually asked Peter’s friends over. That day, May had told him that some friends were coming over before she left for… something, so he had made himself presentable and sat on the living room couch, only expecting Ned and his girlfriend but when he had opened the door…
Parker Apartment, July 2023
“Hey, tiger. Heard things’ve been rough, so I guess they’ve been rough for us both.,” It was Mary Jane Watson, a friend from his school that seemed the typical ‘popular girl’ to anyone that didn’t know her. Her face was gentle, freckled and concerned with an angled jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Her eyes almost glowed in the shade of their bright, cool blue. Her clothes were more slightly more conservative than the type she was usually seen in. A long sleeved purple shirt with a large, worn breast pocket, an olive jacket, a dark pair of jeans and a black pair of flats. Usually she could be found in deep, tight t-shirts, shorts and sandals but today she seemed a little more defended and… Almost introverted with the way her hands were tucked before her and the way her head was down. Her eyes seemed dark and red around the edges, like she had been crying a while ago.
“Hey MJ,” Peter said emptily, smiling as well as he could to her. He welcomed her inside, and she stood shrill for a moment. Peter walked her over to the couch and sat down an amicable distance away- not so far it seemed Peter hated her presence, but not so close as to make things awkward and uncomfortable. After a few minutes of serene, calm silence, MJ spoke, her voice gentle and slow.
“How have you been taking things, Pete?” She asked, not meeting his eyes. She stared at the hardwood floor, seemingly staring off into space. Her question hardly registered until her cerulean orbs met his of cinnamon. He stared at her, taking in her features for practically the first time before he realized she had asked him a question.
“Um, I… Heh, uh, not well,” He sighed lowly, licking his bottom lip. “I, uh, I haven’t really done anything since I… heard the news…” He whispered. Mary Jane nodded and looked down to her hands, which were fidgeting with each other. “You?” he asked.
Mary Jane laughed to herself. “Not well, either, really,” She sighed with a sad look on her face. “I know you loved her, and I know I loved her- she was just so...” She trailed off trying to find the best way to say what she wanted to.
“Easy to talk to?” Peter asked, smiling halfheartedly to the redhead beside him. Mary Jane looked to him with a sad smile, nodding slowly..
Present, April 2024
And things had only grown more and more intense between them.
Peter shook off the memory as MJ shifted in her seat, readjusting her seat belt for what had to be the tenth time in the past half-hour. Her face seemed hard and uncomfortable. Mary Jane was a girl who liked to dance and move, and it had been a few hours spent in the van. Naturally, she would be getting antsy. Knowing Mary Jane would never bother someone unless it was extreme, Peter leaned over to her.
“D’you wanna get out an’ stretch a little?” He whispered. MJ looked to him in mild confusion, as if his question didn’t reach her mind. She quickly shook her head and responded with a quiet, ‘I’m good.’ Peter nodded and returned to a neutral sitting. Occasionally MJ would shift in her seat and rub her thighs, almost as if she was agitated.
Ten or fifteen empty minutes passed before Peter’s spidey-senses suddenly went off. They weren’t panic-induced like usual, but it was… It was like a super-enhanced sense of smell. But it wasn’t the smell itself, it was more like the essence- no, not even that was right. However it worked or could be explained, Peter sensed something. Something alarming. He sensed urine. Fresh, recent urine. His senses were somewhat hard to discern due to the van’s intensely close proximity, but his signals were hazily pointing to…
Mary Jane?
Peter tried his best to keep a neutral expression and his eyes anywhere but MJ’s crotch. But eventually- as casually as he could- his eyes fell to the tightly-glued thighs. She wore a white pair of shorts and a tight light blue t-shirt, her toned, beautiful thighs squished together as she- apparently desperately- held her pee.
MJ had no expression on her face as she looked to the front seat of the van. But, as she noticed Peter’s stare and slightly widened eyes, a sly- almost sinful- smile crossed her face. Her top eyelids fell, generating a lusty look on Mary Jane’s beautiful face. With another discreet look to the driver, MJ slowly parted her quivering thighs- not only was she always eager to tease him with her tight, curvy body, they were both legal, consenting adults- he had turned nineteen a few weeks ago and MJ was a half-year younger, eighteen and half for about a month then- so they had become intimate. Obviously, Peter was well-acquainted with MJ’s crotch and what laid within. But what he saw covering her shorts shocked him and gave him the beginning tingle of an erection.
A small dark spot that brought the sense of urine to eleven. Peter’s breath hitched when a small glisten appeared from the spot, expanding it out marginally. MJ sucked her luscious lips in and tightened her thighs together again. Peter swallowed thickly as he realized what was going to happen soon.
“Hey, Ned, can we pull over soon?” He asked, his gaze never leaving his lover. “I… I gotta go, man,” Ned kindly agreed, doing his best to find an offbeat path from the road that now stretched into the middle of nowhere. Eventually, they hit a rough bumpy gravel road- Peter sensed more urine in the air, only increasing his arousal- until Ned found an offshoot that led into thick woods. Peter undid his seat belt, as did MJ- she grabbed her purse, no doubt containing a roll of toilet paper for this kind of situation- who Peter ushered to before him, and smiled, seeing he had saved her as a small dark spot was present on her ass, before he followed. The two hopped out of the van and headed into the nearby forest. They didn’t go too far in, only far enough so Ned and Gwen couldn’t see them.
“Hey MJ,” Peter asked as he turned away from his girlfriend to give her some privacy. She whimpered to let him know to ask his question. “Why did you… why'd you wait so long to tell me? Y’know, that you had to...” He asked. He wasn’t mad- he actually felt a little embarrassed for having such an erection at the beginning of her accident- Jesus, even calling it an ‘accident’ was turning him on now- but he still wanted to know why she was waiting to the end.
“Mm, Peter…” She moaned, “Look at me." She begged, her voice strained from holding. Peter slowly turned, only to see MJ with her hands between crossed thighs. The way her thighs spread over her hand made him physically lose breath. The dark spot was now larger, though still concealable if she tried. “I like it,”
Peter stood there for at least thirty seconds, his jeans taut with a solid boner, as he absorbed Mary Jane’s words. ‘I like it.’ It kept echoing in his mind until Peter realized MJ was out of focus.
“And… You do too, huh tiger?” She breathed, doubling over as tiny rivulets of warm urine flowed over her hand. She stemmed the flow quickly, but the smallest drop rolled down the face of her thigh. Peter could only swallow and nod as the mark grew, this time with a brief but stimulating gsh sound accompanying it. Two more lines of liquid flew down MJ’s thighs, one rolling around to the back of her deliciously defined calf.
“Good, because… Oh, no…” She whined, a false innocence and dread in her voice. There was the quietest of hissing sounds as the woman’s shorts suddenly burst with pee. MJ whimpered with a fake but convincing voice of worry and panic as urine ran over her hands, down her thighs and onto the hard dirt, rotting wood and pebbles that made up the Canadian soil. The small spot on the face of her shorts, as well as the seat, blew into a fully noticeable piss mark, and the tight white fabric held tight against her skin became slightly transparent as her hot urine flooded into and through it.
Mary Jane Watson also had no panties on whatsoever.
MJ smiled, sighing with relief as she wet herself in the middle of nowhere. Peter stood, his eyes the size of a building as his deepest-rooted, most insecure, absolutely despised and only fetish- girls wetting themselves- was performed by his girlfriend, unplanned and random. Peter was shocked, glued to the spot as his lover acted out what he had so desperately wanted to see in person for years, although he hated admitting it.
Mary Jane laughed through her relief and took her soaked hands from her thighs and opened her legs, allowing liquid to fall directly to the ground noisily. Remembering her absence of underwear, she took hold of the top band of her shorts and pulled them up further, causing the seam running between her nether lips to go between them, to which she moaned, loudly and genuinely before slapping her hand to her mouth to censor herself. Her piss now shot through her shorts and onto the ground, though the stream was slowly faltering. She felt her pussy throb as she released the waistband of her shorts, causing her pee to flow through them once again.
It was forty-seconds until Mary Jane’s powerful accident reduced to a trickle, to which she finally brought down the waterlogged shorts. Indeed she was commando, as her fluffy red pubic hair proudly shouted.
Oh, and the reddened, relieved lips that sat underneath. "I didn't... I had a few... I thought you'd like..." She struggled speaking as her vagina slowly, constantly leaked, MJ's pelvic muscles too weakened from holding to stop her trickle in any regard.
Peter gasped and subconsciously palmed his erection through his pants when MJ’s opening was revealed. She smiled as flirtily as she could as her chest heaved with the absence of pressure. Her vagina finally ceased its flow, leaving MJ’s thighs and calves soaked with her warm pee. Her breathing slowly came back to her as her pussy beat with need, almost forcing her to mumble,
“I think I had an accident…” Peter groaned in horniness when she moaned the most cliche, overused, hot lines for this breed of porn. He looked to her when he heard a squelch, watching with entrapment when MJ suddenly had two fingers inside herself. “Can you make me feel better, tiger?” She asked sweetly, staring exceedingly from under her thick lashes. Peter quickly undid his jeans and brought down the zipper before launching his underwear just far enough for his throbbing cock to be exposed. MJ panted with horniness and moaned with a smile, licking her oral lips and spreading her vaginal.
“Yes, yes I can.” He whispered confidently.
So, @Batman007, the first half of your request- yes, first half, a Laura Kinney chapter is promised after the 'Hela' request is finished- has been completed, and I hope I did right by such a classic character as Mary Jane. And if you want to request a character or situation, I'll do my best to do them justice as well. I have to preface, due to the three requests in the span of a few hours- I am not complaining, I love writing for you lovelies- the writing may take longer than usual, but I promise any and all requests received are added to a backlog, where I then complete each, one by one. Anyway, apologies for the long end note.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Hela
Success Party
Hela sat on a small loveseat with her boyfriend, Colonel James Rhodes, at an Avengers success celebration. They had eliminated a thick branch of assassins-for-hire- thanks to Natasha Romanoff single-handedly bringing down the biggest threat within the branch- and they could now focus on their own personal lives for a bit. Rhodey, who served on the Avengers as the ‘War Machine’ had faced off against seven men at once and had come out on top without a single mortar shell or bullet casing hitting the ground.
Needless to say, Hela was proud of her man.
She smiled at her boyfriend, who was casually sipping on a tube of champagne. The loveseat was relatively tight- so tight their hips were resting against each other- so Rhodey’s right arm ghosted above her bare shoulder. Both of their outfits fit in the crowd around them quite well, at least in the terms of liberation. Hela was dressed in a black, sleeveless deep-cleavage blouse with straps fallen off of her pale shoulders, a plain black skirt that just came above her knee and shiny black high heels. Her lustrous black hair shone in the welcoming, slightly orange tinge of light emanating from above. Rhodey was dressed in a fine yet casual cool-grey suit with a deep crimson tie.
Hela toyed with her own glass of the bubbly liquid awkwardly- ever since the Queen of the Valkyries had re-blessed her as the daughter of Frigga, Hela had become even more human, but socialization in large numbers still made her slightly unnerved- she worried that someway, somehow her bloodlust would return, despite Odin’s death. Her lover had convinced her to come, and she was alright so far.
But when Rhodey’s finger brushed her back as he adjusted his sitting, all of her worries and anxiety seemed to go away.
It was odd, cliche-as-hell and nonsensical, but their shared history of traumas- Hela felt her false hand, courtesy of Tony Stark, tingle at the thought of it- and general villainization. Hers, very rightly by the hands of her Asgardian followers and her family, and his, not only by the American public after he stormed a populated bunker in the Middle East seemingly without reason- though it was later revealed that the bunker was a munitions depot that had flown under his and Tony’s radars for almost fourteen years- but also the loss of his own legs, though the one that caused the injury dwelled on the Avengers still. Rhodey had told her it ‘was water under the bridge’, and she had restrained herself from...
Even for something as simple as restraint, Hela was proud of herself. She was slowly making up for her mistakes, and she was finally becoming human And her humanization was all thanks to… Rhodes.
Hela had no idea why or how she was so… comforted and assured by a Midgardian presence, but that didn’t stop it from happening. Rhodey’s hand, the one above her shoulder- finally rested itself on her far shoulder, and although she did her best to hide it, Hela sensed a feeling bubble up. ‘Feeling’ may not have even been the right word. It was more like an urge, a want hidden deep in her near immortal being.
For some indiscernible reason, Hela, former Goddess of Death… Wanted to be held. If a mere accidental brush could ward these feelings forwards, then she knew it would stay with her and would only grow stronger. She swallowed, moving her drink between hands for a few more minutes. Rhodey, with only a small glance in her direction, began moving his finger in soft circles on Hela’s soft shoulder, just like when she… She took her first life in her own ‘redeemed’ life.
Hela had wept for hours, worried that her five years of work for forgiveness would all disappear. She thought, and truly believed that she had killed someone innocent, someone who didn’t deserve it. In reality, the criminal had been on record for thirteen homicide cases and the only reason she had killed him was in defense- dying, the man had pulled a gun on an armourless Tony Stark, Hela had summoned her Necroblade and stabbed the man through the heart. After that, Hela had convinced herself she was just as bad as she had been prior to Asgard’s destruction. And of everyone who told her it was a good move and it was the lesser of two evils, she didn’t believe anyone.
Except for Rhodey.
Her breath shuddered quietly as the feeling took on more weight. She looked to her lover with shiny, needing eyes, but when she tried to open her mouth to ask for his love, her tongue suddenly went dry.
While she had done her best to atone for her centuries of bloodlust and slaughter in the past six years, she still had her dominance issues. Rhodey had made it clear to her that being strong and dominating was important and good in certain situations, but revenge- something Hela had often associated with strength and dominance- was definitely not a good idea, nine times out of ten. She had learned that almost a year ago...
May 2023, Battle For Earth
Valkyrie hit the ground hard as her pegasus whinnied from above, shaking a layer of ash from its right wing. Thanos’ ship was raining fire in the form of blue, glowing plasma missiles. Valkyrie looked around the battlefield, drawing her ‘Dragonfang’ in preparation for any of the monsters Thanos used in fighting. Around her she could spot the Starks, caught in a bevy of shots. Thor, Rogers and her lover Loki huddled together with Rogers' half-shield doing its best to keep them safe.
Valkyrie, swearing she could see down the mouth of one of the cannons even from so far away, threw her fluttering lapis-coloured cape over herself in a desperate move to shield herself. Vaguely, she heard Hulk roar far away. The ground was shaking almost as much as Valkyrie’s heart was beating, but she felt the ground speed up and get rougher as there was a cracking noise from the ship.
Valkyrie peeked out from her cape as a thick black pillar, glowing a mysteriously familiar shade of green between its cracks, burst forth from the ground. The pillar jabbed through the belly of the ship as a fiery, yellow bolt pierced the left wing from above. The yellow bolt quickly reversed its momentum and cut through both the ship and the pillar. Like it was made of glass, the black tower shattered into thin, forearm-length fragments. Valkyrie heard a distant rocket-like sound as a gigantic, thick, dark red-and-blue-painted suit with a minigun on its shoulder blasted towards the crumbling pillar. When she looked closer, the Valkyrie realized…
‘No… She died! I WATCHED her die!’
Hela, Goddess of Death- who had died nearly six years ago- was now plummeting to the Earth as Thanos’ ship exploded gloriously behind her. Rhodey, who was in the incredibly beefed-up War Machine suit, flew at his fastest capable speed toward her form as she tumbled and reached for the armoured man. Their arms nearly met so many times before Hela gained a sturdy grip and pulled herself into Rhodey’s arms.
What the Hell was happening?
|
“What the Hell is happening!” Valkyrie shouted, already red in the face. Loki, Thor, Sif, Rhodey and… her… were gathered around each other, reveling as much as their battered, bruised and bloodied bodies would permit- Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Hulk, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson and Clint Barton had managed to collect the Stones, each holding a certain Stone. They had snapped together, Hulk and Stark taking the brunt of the attack. Both had lived and were surrounded by friends and lovers.
They all looked to Valkyrie as she unsheathed her sword, tackled Hela to the ground and directed the point of the Fang to her nemesis’ throat in a second. Valkyrie’s chest rose and fell erratically as Hela looked down the length of the blade. But not in the fearless, arrogant manner Valkyrie expected. She looked… Scared. Her seagreen eyes were wide and trained on the blue-silver blade at her pale, long, quivering jugular. The goddess’ breath became fast and short with quiet gasps and puffs of fear. Pure, unadulterated, raw fear.
She suddenly moved- a defensive move, crossing her arms over her face- and Valkyrie swung her dagger with a deadly force in retaliation.
Hela’s hand, severed at the wrist, landed a few feet away. The Goddess made no noise- her powers made sure no blood was lost, but Hela passed out immediately from both shock and pain.
“Val!” Loki gasped, stealing the bloodied Dragonfang from Valkyrie’s grasp. He winced, as he had grabbed the blade, but switched his grip to hold it properly when his lover released it in shock.
“What’re you doing!” she growled, standing up to the God of Mischief. He held the blade out of her grasp- their near-foot height difference helping him greatly- as she stared at him almost murderously as she whispered, tears in the corners of her eyes- “She… murdered my sisters, my family… Why are you protecting her…”
“Because it wasn’t her fault!” Rhodey shouted, activating every possible weapon within the War Machine suit in a threatening gesture. He stepped between the Asgardians and his unconscious lover. When Valkyrie made no argument, Rhodey continued,
“It- her bloodlust- was Odin’s fault!” He shouted. He didn’t trust the Valkyrie- not anymore. Why hadn’t anyone told her Hela was on their side! Valkyrie gave a disbelieving look of bewilderment. Odin’s fault? While she didn’t agree with many of his methods and ideas, she didn’t at all believe Odin would put the good of Asgard at risk in such a detrimental manner.
“Odin’s fault?” She shouted incredulously. Thor sighed with irritation.
“Yes. My father… Before he married my mother, had me and… adopted Loki, he was with another mistress. That mistress gave birth to Hela, my sister. When my father’s mistress died in the Frost Giant War, he was left with only Hela, and together they conquered the Nine Realms. Hela was satisfied then, but when my father heard of a new woman to take as his Queen, he realized he couldn’t have a child with him- it would have looked bad, I suppose…” Thor trailed off, looking to Valkyrie. Her face was still angry, but she was indeed taking the story in. Rhodey picked Hela up , being careful with her arm. He kept every weapon trained on Valkyrie. Thor continued breaking the truth..
“He needed… an easy out. So, my father made a deal with…” He paused, looking away as he swallowed his own disbelief that he was truly speaking of Odin, his father. “With Death. He allowed her to… Take Hela’s will, and also offered her… an army to kill, in return for the favour of giving him a clean, righteous way to dispose of… Hela. He had Death tie the curse to Asgard, so when Ragnarok came...” He trailed off slowly.
Valkyrie felt like she was just stabbed in the stomach. Odin, without a thought, had promised to kill his best army, his best warriors, her family, just to impress a woman he lusted for, and so their union wouldn’t bring strife. She lost her balance from the nerve-withering shock- she would have fallen had Loki not dropped the Dragonfang and caught her. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop it, even if she tried.
She threw up in shock.
Odin, the man she swore an oath to, had betrayed her and promised her death. The woman she had hated, had desired to kill for centuries- more than a millennium, actually- was… Innocent? No, not entirely- Hell, Valkyrie had no remorse for stealing the woman’s hand, an eye for an eye-
But… Perhaps she was worthy.
Worthy of redemption. Not forgiveness, not even fucking close. It would take time and a shit-ton of convincing but… Maybe, just maybe.
Present
That.
Hela shook off the memory, the want to be held immediately taking its place. However, her shoulder had no touch on it, and Hela quickly looked to Rhodey’s seat, which was…
Empty.
Her anxiety immediately took over her mind. ‘Where’s Rhodey? He probably left. Had she been imagining the past few years? Where-’
“I’m back, Hela,” Rhodey spoke calmly, retaking his seat beside her. Hela couldn’t help but place her hand over her chest and breathe a sigh. He gave her a look. “Are you good?” Hela nodded, putting her head in her hand. She felt silly now, of course he wouldn’t leave her. But anxiety wasn’t rational, and she hated it because.
“I thought… Never mind,” She sighed, and the look on his face only intensified as he furrowed his brow.
“Thought what?”
“I… Um, I remembered…” She flexed her false hand, though it gave no impression of it. Rhodey nodded in understanding. “And I… I thought…” She felt so silly for her anxiety taking over, even though it happened nearly every day. She trailed off, but Rhodey caught her meaning.
“Hey, look at me,” He softly said. Hela looked at him, a slight grimace in the creases of her eyes. He put his drink down on a small nearby table and took her real hand in his. “I will never leave you forever.” She smiled warmly, to which he returned. She shifted in her seat as the feeling from before grew stronger. Her hand tightened its grip on his. Her lips tightened as well, leaving Rhodey to ask another question.
“What’s wrong? Really?” Her heart quivered at his concern, but she struggled to say what she wanted to say. She was getting better at dominance and controlling her dominance, but she still struggled with the idea that she didn’t have to be dominant all the time. She struggled with seeming weak or small, but she was committed to helping that.
“I... “ She began. She had learned very early on that small steps were best for working through her issues. “Can you…” She was doing her best to come up with the best way to say it.
Most clear is best.
“I… don’t feel comfortable.I’m okay being here… But, can you…” Rhodey nodded patiently. She smiled before looking through her lashes, embarrassed, and whispering “Can you please hold me?” Rhodey was taken aback, but he smiled at her cuteness. Yeah, she could come off as menacing or mean sometimes, but damn if she wasn’t cute right now.
“Oh, come here,” He laughed. Hela smiled and pulled her feet onto the loveseat. She laid her torso on her lover’s legs as he sat back and her head rested on the puffy, pillowy armrest. Rhodey’s left hand quickly buried into her hair while the other was draped protectively over her stomach. She sighed contentedly as her feeling was happily sated. She suddenly felt her eyelids droop but fought to keep them open. She yawned quietly, her hand over her mouth.
“Are you tired?” Rhodey asked, rubbing the back of her head in a calming, almost lulling manner. She mumbled a yes but still fought her eyes open. Was this why she was needing to be held, because she was tired? Rhodey breathed a laugh before rubbing her clothed, lean belly.”Take a nap, baby,” He soothed. Hela felt a blush creep her cheeks at the use of a pet name, but she definitely liked it. It made her feel more… Human. It made her feel loved, and after learning what her father did, that’s all she really wanted anymore. As Rhodey stroked the back of her head, she felt her eyelids sneak closed.
An Hour and a Half Later…
Hela felt her shoulder get nudged, slowly waking her from her nap. Her eyes couldn’t adjust to the light at first, but the warm orange light eventually made the room clear. She felt Rhodey’s hand now caressing her jawline, and her insides felt warm and content. Hela stirred, attracting her lover’s attention.
“Welcome back, baby,” he purred. Hela giggled- in a high, adorable pitch- in her tired state. She twisted the top half of her body so her back was flat on Rhodey’s legs. She kept her legs down with her knees facing out due to, well, her skirt. Rhodey’s hand stayed on her belly, rubbing it softly. Hela breathed calmly and smiled. The party was still going on, meaning Hela wasn’t aware of how long she had slept.
But, suddenly, there was a warning that let her know it had been a good while.
Her bladder pulsed with need.
Her legs crossed underneath her skirt reflexively, but she didn’t get up. She knew she should- she was an adult, after all- but… Rhodey was so warm and made her feel so safe, both in the sense of her own safety and the safety of everyone around her. Sometimes, when she stopped and looked at her relationship with Rhodey, it seemed… Too close, almost like she couldn’t live without his presence. She seemed clingy and overbearing. But it didn’t stop her. Rhodey promised- absolutely promised- he would tell her if she was too overbearing, and she trusted him.
With her life.
Another roll of pressure fell against Hela’s organs. Her legs shifted uncomfortably and her face morphing with worry. Again, she knew she should go and, well… go, but she was just so warm and comfortable and calm.
“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing her belly once more. The movement and sensation on her belly made the feeling of having to pee almost worse, but at the same time it felt so good. It was an odd mixture that she wasn't accustomed to, but she was so partial to the ‘good’ side that the ‘need’ was beginning to feel like less and less.
‘You dumbass, you’re going to piss yourself!’ Her rational mind shouted. But her mushy, lovey mind responded, ’I know, but he’s so warm and kind and I love him so much.’ Hela eventually sided with her rational mind- and also realized Rhodey was staring at her like he had asked her something. She nodded slowly and rose, her bladder pinching with need.
“What's the matter, baby?” He asked, his hand rubbing her back gently. Hela flipped her legs over the edge of the couch- flinching when her bladder bit her insides again. The use of her pet name appealed so much to her loving side that her rational side was practically silenced, even if just for a moment. She threw her arms around her lover, catching him off-guard. “Seriously, are you okay?”
Hela nodded and smiled, nestling her head in Rhodey’s shoulder. Her bladder was beginning to feel heavier and heavier as a warning shiver bounced up her spine. She separated from her lover and rose, smoothing out the wrinkles and ruffles in her skirt over her long, slender, beautifully defined legs. She looked around the large hall in an attempt to find the washrooms. She found some of the other Avengers- she picked out Tony, Natasha, Bruce, Sam and Peggy- but no, no bathrooms were anywhere in plain sight.
“Damn…” Hela sighed, slyly crossing her legs with a sharp click of her heels. Rhodey saw her do this and had been around her long enough to know what she was doing. He rose alongside her and tried to find the washrooms. Hela groaned in slight pain and subtly held her bladder before Rhodey pointed out a sign with a few symbols. One was a stick figure with a floating circle above it, with a black bar between it and another stick figure, this one with a triangle growing from its hips.
“There,” He pointed. Hela smiled in relief and kissed Rhodey cheek before making her way towards the room. As he sat back down, Rhodey had a hard time taking his eyes off of his lover’s ass. The way her legs moved it and the way it bounced with her quick steps was hypnotizing. He grinned scantily when Hela’s gaze met his with a sly smile, though she didn’t halt.
Hela smiled to herself, knowing the effect her rear end always had on Rhodey. While it wasn’t particularly large, it was defined, strong and firm. And from the way he always gripped and massaged it whenever possible, she knew something similar would be happening when she returned. Hela followed the sign marked ‘Bathrooms’. There was a break in the wall at the sign which led to a small, short hallway. Two doors rested inside, one labelled ‘Men’ and the other labelled ‘Women’. However, as Hela got closer, she realized they both had a similar yellow sign posted upon them that drained all hope from Hela’s desperate body.
‘Out Of Service’
“Out… Of service?” Her voice was higher than usual from both her increasing pee desperation and her similarly increasing dread. Her luscious legs were now across each other again- her need had apparently more than she originally suspected- and-,after peering behind her to make sure no one was watching, Hela did her best to hold herself despite her tight skirt. She groaned to herself quietly before she suddenly sensed a presence behind her. She quickly whipped around- despairing as a tense spurt of pee escaped into her taut dark green panties. It was Valkyrie, dressed in a pristinely white, curve-hugging dress. Her dark chocolate hair was shining perfectly in the soft light and her light caramel skin appeared soft and supple. Her face was brushed with the lightest dabbles of makeup and a strong, pretty pink shade of lipstick. Her stance seemed rigid and forced, as did her smile. She was obviously facing the same issue she was.
“Hey, are they…” She trailed off as she read the sign on the female bathroom door. “No, come on, what the Hell…” Valkyrie sighed and bent over, pressing her hands against her bladder doing her obvious best to hold her accident in. “God, it hurts…” She whined, gritting her teeth. Hela sympathized with the other woman as she massaged her own bladder. Hela bit her lip when she read the sign again, reaching her limp hand down to stroke her thigh in an attempt to hold herself.
Both Valkyrie and herself stood into a publicly decent figure- still rigid from their holding. Rhodey- Hela felt a smile cross her face despite her pain- came to the hall, a worried expression across his face.
“Are you good, Hela?” He asked, both ladies accidentally blocking the ‘Out Of Service’ sign from his gaze. Valkyrie stayed quiet, but Hela fell forward, crossing her legs and doing her desperate best to usher her tight, unstretching skirt against her near-bursting crotch.
“No…” She moaned, looking to the yellow sign on the door between her and Valkyrie. At the rereading of the sign, Valkyrie's shaky ‘decent’ facade collapsed, and she grabbed herself as well, swaying on her heels to distract herself. Rhodey also read the sign, his face morphing into one of angered confusion.
“What- why throw a party with drinks if…” He trailed off and sighed, approaching the opening of the hallway and looking towards the main exit. Thor, Loki and Sif- who was wrapped in her lover’s cape- were all talking amongst each other near the exit. Rhodey approached Loki and pulled him aside, most likely to tell him of his girlfriend’s problem. Loki did in fact look over to the hall in concern and slight anger- not at Valkyrie herself, but at the fact that the washrooms were out of order. He then nodded to Rhodey and the two made their way over to the washroom hallway. Loki pulled a small, glowing blue cube out of his coat pocket, curved around Valkyrie’s side and- in a blink- the two disappeared in a flash of blue and a cloud of black. Hela remained desperate as Rhodey shook his head in confusion.
“How bad is it?” Rhodey asked to regain his focus, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. Hela shuddered, both from his touch and her need to pee, but she couldn’t form words anymore. Her bladder felt like it was stabbing her over and over as it pushed on her other organs. Her tight shirt compressed the full organ more, only increasing her pain. Her legs were mashed together as hard as they could possibly be, her hands were jamming both her skirt and themselves into her crotch to delay the inevitable and her face was contorted in a mixture of shame, pain, desperation and pure, unbridled tenacity, though it was useless to possess at the moment.
“Look, I don’t… I don’t think there’s anything else around here,” Hela whimpered in unfortunate agreement, her face scrunched and red from pressure. “If we can find somewhere more… I don’t know, more private, maybe you should just… Let go,” Hela cried out at the mention of relief, her bladder screaming in agreement. “It hurts… I can see it.” Rhodey finished. Hela muttered a pained, breathy plea.
“It hurts so much… I want to- I can’t, I-I-I can’t,” She whimpered, bouncing on her heels. Rhodey kept her steady with a hand on her shoulder and a gentle grip on her sharp chin. “I can’t do it, but it… hurts, so bad!” She cried, tears welling in the bottoms of her eyes. Rhodey aimed her eyes into his and gently led her against the wall, his hand snaking around to the small of her back. Hers still stayed glued to her crotch in sheerly false hope, at this point.
“Please, baby, for me. Stop hurting yourself,” He begged, rubbing her back. Hela whimpered at his line. Her thighs were beginning to ache and tire, and she knew she couldn't hold on for much longer at all.
“But it’s so gross, and it’s not… It’s not okay…” She cried as a tear rolled down her cheek. Rhodey quickly ducked in and kissed it away, bringing her seagreen eyes to meet his chestnut eyes.
“Look at me. This isn’t your fault, and I won’t think of you any different. Please, Hela, let go,” He whispered, taking a gentle grasp on her hip. His lover let a few more tears roll down, and with each one he ducked in and stole them away with kisses. There was a few moments of silence before Hela, with a breaking voice, whispered,
“No… no, no, nononono!” She whispered shrilly, tears now slowly flowing down her face. Her voice was breaking and, as Rhodey realized what was happening, there was a noise.
Psssss.
Hela felt the warmth before she felt the wet. The natural heat of her groin suddenly increased, like a fire had started between her legs. It was then that she felt… Wet. A small stream of running urine passed neatly through her everest panties, soaked into and through her black skirt and finally stained her hands with wetness. The more she tried to resist the flow, the more her weakened muscles failed to hold. The stream slowly began picking up power and speed, all while Hela gently began sobbing to her boyfriend, who whispered sweetly into her ear. The quiet, gentle sss evolved into a shhh as the running piss blew through all her defenses, her panties now stained a further dark shade of burnt grass. Hela’s urethra only seemed to grow in width as an impossible amount of liquid began flowing out of her and into her clothes, onto her hands and legs as well as onto the floor.
There was a quiet tktktktk against the tile below her before it quickly morphed into a small, constant pattering that quickly turned into a noisy splashing, like a slow faucet into an overflowing cup. Hela took her hands away from her crotch in disgust, only sobbing more despondently when her stream became more powerful. There was a shiny wet stain on both the front and back of her skirt, only fueling her shame. Hela, deep down, felt relief in her bladder’s incredible lightening, but it was sealed under layers of shame, disappointment, hurt and sadness. How could she let this happen? This was not what adults did! This was something children did, fools did.
What more was she, than a fool in the current moment?
She was standing, not two feet from a bathroom, pissing herself like a small child that had forgotten where the bathroom was due to its tiny mind! Her boyfriend held while she not only pissed her panties, but also cried into his shoulder. She felt horrible inside, like she had failed the legacy of the last six years with a single accident.
Rhodey’s heart tore a small bit more with every pained sob he heard over the splashing and hissing, but still he held on. Hela’s urethra sputtered hellaciously when she tried to stop her flow, though it had almost given out from the pain. Her beautiful, soaked legs quivered from the pressure and shame her vagina was spewing, but Rhodey kept her standing.
They stood there, Hela wetting herself with unfortunately and unwillingly reckless abandon as her lover comforted her, for almost a full minute before Hela felt her skin crawl, her pee beginning to lessen its spout. This time, Hela’s legs truly did give out from under her and she fell against a wall, sinking into a soaking, warm seat in her shame. Tears freely flowed, only breathy gasps and moans of combined shame and relief as her bladder still slowly gushed what was left of its contents. There were ripples of new liquid for far too long until Hela felt her torture finally end. She finally felt her bladder ache with emptiness and relief, though she couldn't feel it through her embarrassment.
There was only the sound of Hela’s soft weeping and breathy gasps alongside small splishes in her puddle of shame. The puddle was still warm, and it carried the slightest tint of gold with it. Rhodey was very careful as he spoke, acknowledging the precarious state his lover’s psyche was in.
“Is that… better?” He warranted, making sure to be so, so careful. Through her silent moans and cries, Hela nodded reluctantly. She felt horrible that she had allowed this to happen- like she was melting with shame and disappointment in herself- but she also felt the relieving sensation of an empty bladder, like popping a balloon that had been in her guts.
“I’m… I-I’m sorry, Rho-”
“No, no. You have nothing to apologize for, you did your best to hold it,” He stopped her, looking into her red, swollen eyes. “You did your best, and I’m so proud of you.” Hela felt more tears well up, but this time they were ones of warmhearted happiness. She had done her best, despite her accident. “You did so good, and it must have felt so good to finally get that out,” Rhodey smiled, Hela giving a shaky one of her own back. She still sat in her puddle, though it had long gone cold. Her vagina had not, though, still warm and wet. She rubbed her thighs together to regain feeling as Rhodey stood up before her, offering his hand to her.
“Hey, I saw your… um, accident,” An accented voice commented from beside them. Hela’s face immediately drained of colour and Rhodey turned to cave their head in, only to see Sif, still wrapped in Thor’s blood-shaded cape. She had a gentle face on and a sympathetic voice.
“Well, you’re not alone,” Sif whispered with a giddy smile, parting Thor’s cape for a moment. Truly, there was the clear sign of an accident on Sif’s clothes- the crotch of her light grey leggings were dark, as were the insides of her toned, tight thighs. “Guess they didn’t think too far into this, huh?” She giggled to herself, hiding her accident again. “‘Least you’re wearing black,” she commented amicably before returning to Thor.
“I guess she’s right, at least you have black on,” Rhodey commented. Hela laughed shakily, the tears and trauma still present despite the sympathy. She rolled her head from one shoulder to another in a ‘well, I guess’ manner.
“Not entirely,” Hela sighed scratchily. Before Rhodey could ask her to elaborate, Hela inched her soaked, darkened panties down her thighs though her skirt. When they passed the widest point, gravity resumed her job, and a wet, dark mass suddenly splashed cold, vaguely amber liquid onto Hela’s ankles with an unceremonious spap. She also pulled her arms over the straps of her shirt before pulling the shirt down, revealing her matching bra. She skillfully undid it, allowing it to fall into Rhodey's grasp. Her dark areolas and perfectly soft nipples hit the air, hardening somewhat before she put her shirt back on. She stepped out of her soaked, warm panties and back into the main room, staying close to Sif.
Rhodey smiled. He knew she was using her scantiness as a stalling tactic to consider what had truly just happened, but he couldn't argue, as the pee-soaked fabric of her skirt stuck to her taut, firm ass even more than before.
“Hell of a woman,” Rhodey sighed, smiling at his shivering lover.
So, @diokno44x, I grant you your requested 'Hela' piece. This is not only the longest piece I've written so far, it was also the most challenging, as I had to build an entirely new background for this 'Redeemed Hela'. If you like my take on the character, or if you'd prefer a more Thor: Ragnarok-accurate depiction, please let me know for all future 'Hela' pieces- and if both are appealing, then please request whether you would like Redeemed Hela or Film Hela, for all future eponymous requests. Feel free to request any other character from the first post's list, as well as a situation- if you so desire. I should also say you are welcome to suggest only situations if you are indifferent of the character it's applied to.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Laura Kinney
San Francisco, November 2024
Laura Kinney and Nathan Summers leisurely strolled down the San Francisco streets together, their hands occasionally brushing together. Laura grinned excitedly when they did, while Nathan’s stone-like face turned away with a heat rising. After his wife and daughter had been saved, Nathan had sworn himself from ever finding someone else, but when he had met Laura… He cleared his throat to himself, snatching a sly smile from Laura. In a rather bold move, Laura tugged on his large finger before weaving her small, gentle hand in his large, rough hand. She squeezed lovingly and gave a teasing smirk.
“C’mon, Nate, those gangster’s are gone, can you… I don’t know, let loose at little?” Laura poked, leaning on her boyfriend's thick arm. It had been a few weeks since the Success Party, and now many of Earth's Mightiest Heroes were left with a lot of spare time. Nathan looked at her confusedly as the use of his shortened name but just scoffed a laugh. Laura sighed in mild irritation but didn’t press any further. She knew Nate- she called him that just to egg him- loved her as much as she did him, but he didn’t show it publicly. Laura loved being public with her affection Nate, and he didn’t want her to change that. Laura brushed it off, as she knew what he really felt, whether he liked to show it or not.
Her more childlike side sparked when two children dashed by playing tag.
“Oo, Nate!” She cooed in a high pitch. At the same moment, an idea entered her mind. “Nate, can we play hide-and-seek!” A few passersby would have most likely given her weird or disapproving looks... were it not for the mountain of a beautiful cybernetic-armed, glowing-eyed, greying-haired, positively ripped man she held onto.
As Nathan looked into Laura’s shining yellow eyes- a side effect of Weapon-X, passed down from her grandfather Logan, her late father Joseph, who had somehow ended up without the mutation, and finally to herself- Nathan felt it hard to say no to her. Her lips were split in an excited smile and her goddamned dimples flexed adorably with it. Nathan scowled in defeat- they had nowhere to really go, so this wasn’t a wasn’t a waste of their time.
“Fine,” he growled, crossing his magnificent arms. Laura squealed to herself, barely keeping herself from jumping up and down at Nate’s acceptance of the game.
“Yes! Okay, okay! Do you wanna hide first, or should I?” She asked, joyfully rolling on her heels. Nathan knew of her super-senses and almost beast-like instincts from experience, so he wasn’t keen on either role, knowing he’d be at a strict disadvantage either way. Though he enjoyed her happiness inside, he kept up his unamused charade.
“You pick, but where are we playing?” He asked. He knew San Francisco inside and out from recon missions, tactical assault missions and leisurely walks with his lover, so any particular place would have them on, at most, even footing in terms of terrain knowledge. Though, her answer nearly gave him a heart attack.
“The entire city,”
“The entire city?” He repeated, thinking for a minute- hoping, really- his hearing was finally beginning to decline.
“Yep!” She smiled. He breathed a steady sigh. Laura was invincible and a great warrior, if a bit childlike. She had grown up with her grandfather, Logan, and he wasn’t always there- literally, as he had been a World War II soldier, then a S.H.I.E.L.D. assassin, and now he worked with the hybridized union of S.W.O.R.D., the Avengers and the X-Men- a ragtag group of mutants, of which Laura, an unfortunate acquaintance, Wade W. Wilson, Nathan himself and a few others were a part of. Laura could handle anything this city had- rogue cars, muggers, rogue trains- she might actively try to stop those- as well as anything else, though many criminals most likely wouldn’t be brave enough, what with Ant-Man, Wasp, Yellowjacket, Retro-Wasp and Venom acting as their own Avengers team in guarding San Francisco.
But, one thing her increased regeneration wouldn’t fix, and the thing giving Nathan pause about Laura’s suggestion, was getting lost. Laura had incredible instincts and reflexes, but she almost like a dog in the fact that her sense of direction was next to useless- and her childish personality didn’t help either, often leading to her getting carried away and going too far with a lot of things.
“We need a way to communicate, Laura,” Nathan warned. Laura gave an eye-roll.
“Look, silly, you can’t cheat!” Nathan shook his head and placed his true hand on Laura’s small shoulder.
“No, not cheating, but a way for you to tell me where you are if you get lost,” His memory shot to his wife from another lifetime. “Please,” he added. Laura realized Nathan’s tone and her face fell into a concerned look.
“I have my…” She reached into the back pocket of her faded blue jeans and pulled out an older-model cell-phone, cracked from Laura’s clumsy nature and kept out of sentimentality, “-phone. You can access it, right?” She asked. Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. He then smirked, sending her a text with his false eye. The screen lit up and Laura looked down to read the message, her eyes going wide as she did. The message was vaguely threatening but it started her heart back up with an excited jolt and a smile.
‘You have sixty seconds before I come for you.’ She looked up to Nathan’s face, seeing both his eyes closed and his lips moving in a count. Laura swore excitedly and dashed off, making sure to be light on her feet as to not give away her path.
Three-And-A-Half Hours Later…
Fuck.
FUCK!
“FUCK!” Laura yelled in a high pitch, her lungs inflating and deflating rapidly as she panicked. She and Nathan had been playing on-and-off hunter- otherwise known as ‘City-wide Hide-And-Seek’- with each other for the last three hours, but true to many, many times before, Laura had let her childlike side go too far. Her phone had been on very low battery, and had just died in her hands as she did her best to text Nate. She had…
Well, she was...
She was...
She was lost.
She had turned down a not-familiar street, thinking it would be easy enough to navigate. But then another in escape from her boyfriend. Then another. Then another, all while feeling Nate in her presence. She had lost him after fifteen or twenty minutes of wild, unplanned sprinting, but as she looked around, she recognized nothing- not even the street she had come from. And that wasn’t the worst of it as she felt a very familiar push against her muscular belly.
“Ugh, dammit…” She moaned, her body bathed in amber light from the final slim glimmers of dying sunlight from the setting ball of flame on the horizon. While her sense of direction sucked, her sense of time was often next to impeccable. Her instincts told her it was half-past ten. She knew Nate would be scouring the entire city for her, but she also knew he’d be mad when he found her. He had warned her about going too far, even doing so much as making sure she could contact him were she to go too horrendously far.
Now, she had done exactly that. Fuckin’ great. Another pinch came from beneath her belly as her need progressively got worse. Laura groaned, partly in pain and partly in disbelief that she had somehow forgotten Nate's one. Damn. Rule. Laura knew her bladder was filling, so she needed to find a bathroom incredibly soon. Her desperation was manageable for now, but she could tell it would become hard to mask in no time at all.
|
‘Dammit, Summers, you had ONE fucking job!’ was the thought rushing through Nathan’s head as he stood on the tallest nearest building, scouring the streets for Laura. He couldn’t find her. Her black hair, her yellow eyes, her leather jacket, nothing of her was appearing.
“Dammit!” He growled, preparing his lungs. He shouted her name as loud as he could, hoping her increased hearing sensitivity could pick up his shout. He repeated this three or four more times before, using his metal arm like a brake, jumped from the roof. He dug his hand into the brick, sending sharp crumbles to the concrete. Nathan then bolted in the direction he had seen her last.
|
“LAURA!” She heard, her sensitive ears immediately identifying the voice as her boyfriend’s. It was faint and far, but she heard it. Were her bladder not heavy on her pelvis and her organs, she would have booked it on all fours like a true wolverine to the source, but her body only permitted a somewhat brisk pace. She heard the call four more times, each time enhancing Nate’s location. Laura grinned at the end of her anxiety, though a new one took hold. What would Nate’s reaction be? She had directly ignored his only wish about their game, and now they had been separated for close to an hour.
A third anxiety resurfaced when Laura’s bladder twinged awkwardly, warning her of the incoming flood. Laura was apparently in the middle of a residential area, so no businesses were nearby. Many lights were dark-not that she would have even tried to enter a stranger’s house, even if it was an emergency, which it was surely becoming. Laura groaned, having to stop to cross her legs.
She hadn’t made it more than forty yards. She crushed her thighs together and whimpered at the pain, though her body had acclimated to pain over her warrior lifetime. She imagined that the pain wasn’t much physical and that it was more emotional and psychological. She wanted so desperately to avoid an accident that her mind was convincing her she was in pain so she would find somewhere secure and just…
Go.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck! Don’t think that!’ Her mind panicked. Laura’s hands flew to her crotch and gripped it, keeping herself from bursting there and then. Like it or not, she was going to have to find somewhere to… relieve herself- nope, that was worse- soon, lest the worst happen. Laura heard Nate shout her name again, this time ever so much closer. She released a pained groan even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.
The feeling of impending doom carefully rolled off of her, though her bladder still felt pounds over-filled. Laura slowly began walking again, this time her pace almost half of what it was before. Another shout, this one… Radically closer? The Hell? It sounded so close that, maybe…
“NATE!” Laura shouted as loud as she could. She immediately regretted it, as the push forced a squirt of her urine from her bladder. Her muscles spasmed in panic to reseal her leak, which they successfully did as Laura doubled over with a shrill groan, bending her knees down to the asphalt. She needed somewhere, NOW. She quickly scanned the area around her and found a small, dingy space between two old, run-down houses. She made her careful way over, stopping quickly under a streetlamp to analyze the damage to her fair jeans the leak had caused.
There was indeed the slightest of dark patches over the seam of her fair-shaded jeans. She would have been irritated and ashamed were a worse fate not dwelling inside her. She quickly made her way to between the houses, not caring in the damned slightest if anyone watched her. Her hands were trembling from her desperation, and her jeans were already decently tight. Her gentle though practiced thumb struggled with the shaky button as she heard heavy footsteps approaching her location.
“Laura!”
“Nate!” She shrilly gasped, still struggling with her button. The feeling of her boiling bladder tensing to release itself NOW was getting too much, and Nate’s voice was filled with a very, very uncommon despair, making her all the more stressed. She whimpered and flicked the metal circle desperately. “Please…” She begged, tears beginning to stab the corners of her eyes.
Nathan ran to his girlfriend, who was tucked between two decrepit houses, most likely for security. He couldn’t help but throw his huge arms around her tiny, athletic figure, her voice high, worried and teary.
“Oh thank God!” Nathan sighed, relieved he had found her before things turned too horrible or irreversible. Laura whined again and Nathan met eyes with her, about to scold her for forgetting the one thing he asked, but he stopped as he noticed…
Laura’s face was pained and hurting.
“What wrong?” He asked, a new fear taking hold. Laura only choked a sob and bounced on crossed legs before shouting,
“I have to go! I have t-to pee, Nate!” Small tears rolled down her face as her shaking hands returned to her relentless button, and Nate stood, shocked for a moment.
‘Of course she needed to pee. It had been four hours!’ He obviously doubted she would remember her bladder during a game of Hide-And-Seek. He reached for her button, replacing her small hands. But, the button was too damn small for his titanic fingers.
“Nate!”
“I’m trying, it’s-”
“N-Nate!”
“Laura, I’m-”
As hard as she could, Laura shoved her lover away. Nate took two steps back from the force, and a third from surprise. But, it all became clear as…
As…
As…
All the colour immediately drained from Laura’s face. There was silence- utter, dead silence- as slowly, as if time had been sliced in half, Laura’s jeans began darkening. Her yellow eyes shot open, her mouth quivered with immediate, burning shame and her knees shook with relief. There was no sound, only visuals as Laura’s legs gave out from under her, letting her fall to her knees. She sat on her legs, a sudden spchhh emanating from the meeting of her substantial thighs. Quiet, almost inaudible, gasping sobs collapsed Laura’s resolve. Her hands covered her face, her crying growing louder right alongside the constant hissing of her urethra’s jet against the denim of her jeans.
Nathan stood still. He didn’t have a single fucking clue of what to do. He felt horrible for her, for feeling angry at her, for almost yelling at her, but the sight, the sound of Laura’s accident drudged up an ancient memory from another life. His wife, when pregnant with their baby girl, had an accident during a routine, serene walk home. It had struck out of nowhere, and Nathan remembered.
He remembered the love.
The will.
The sympathy.
He ducked down to his sobbing lover, her crying matching the volume of her desperate draining. He wrapped both arms around Laura, bringing her head into his massive shoulder. Her weeping only grew more intense in the close quarters, but she didn’t pull away. They stayed like that- Nathan hugging and shielding a wetting, crying, humiliated Laura. It was so long before her jet slowly began fading, though her crying never stopped. The hissing was now weak and subtle, clearly tapering off. Nathan did his best to help Laura stand, though he swallowed what felt like a spoonful of sugar when he saw the full effect of Laura’s accident.
The face of her jeans were mildly dark, especially around her vagina, but what he could see of the back told that it was hopelessly fucking drenched. A slight shimmer shone on her left thigh from the small sliver of urine still trickling from inside her, soaking into her black runners. The rim of her dark orange shirt was darkened from pressing her body together and she was quivering from sobs, utter relief and brutal humiliation.
“What… h-have I do-done N-Nate…” She sobbed, choking on her words.
“You didn’t do anything-”
“I-I-I w-went too f-far… I di-didn’t listen, and n-now I p-pissed-”
“Laura,” he mumbled, caressing her chin softly. “Everyone has accidents. It’s okay,” He soothed.
“B-but it’s f….ffuckin’ gross, Nate,” She sobbed again, her eyes shiny and growing red from crying.”I-I’m an adult, and I…” She didn’t finish her sentence, only bit her soft lip and looked down to her sopping crotch. Again, she covered her face with her hands, too ashamed to meet Nathan’s eyes anymore.
“Laura, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I still love you, and no one has to know. Okay? Please, Laura, please look at me,” He begged as he ran his rough, sandpaper-grade hand over her soft cheek, brushing away her nimble, shaking fingers. Without warning, he dove forward and captured her soft, peachy lips.
It may have been times uncounted he had kissed her lips, but every time kept feeling better. He would either find something new about her lips or he would learn another way to enjoy the feeling. Her lips vaguely tasted of artificial strawberries, sweet and succulent. Her lips, wettened by both her indescribably enjoyable slight saliva and her salty tears, were soft and moist. He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth as he reveled in the taste of… just her before picking her up in a bridal carry unexpectedly. She squeaked into his mouth but separated quickly.
“Wait, I-I’m still wet-”
“I don’t care. You’re not walking home like this. I’ll walk you home like this,” He asserted, robbing another kiss from her lips. She smiled sadly and nodded, tiredly settling into his shoulder. She closed her eyes and grimaced when her soaked jeans wrinkled with a squelch. Nathan was apathetic to the wetness, focused solely on bringing Laura home and bathing her.
“I love you, Laura,” He mumbled sporadically a few minutes later. He looked to her face for a reaction, only to see that she had fallen asleep. He smiled as he carried her through the night, only now truly taking her in. No matter what happened, she was beautiful, even with drenched jeans and tear stains.
From her sleep Nathan heard her whisper,
“I love you too, Cable,” He could only smile and continue, a light snoring soon emanating from Laura’s soft parted lips.
Cable and the wolverine.
Not a bad ring, he thought.
Not bad at all...
So, there's the second half of @Batman007's request. Really quickly, I wanted to take this end note to just say thank you, guys. I've seen, heard and been caught up in some horror stories from people who do NSFW requests, and I just want to say an overwhelming thank you for being kind, understanding of my rules and respectful. You guys are what every request-performer wishes for, and I feel so blessed by all of you. I just hope that my smutty pieces are enough to pay back my thanks. Feel free to request a character from the first post's list, a situation for a wetting, or both if you feel so inclined. Once I'm finished the remaining requests, I have some other pieces queued up- namely Ava, Valkyrie, Natasha and Mantis. Also, if you have any criticism that you think these pieces could benefit from, feel free. Either way, thank you all again for just being awesome.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Hela II: Ragnarok
Death’s Prison
Hela was carried in chains through the dark seemingly endless void that was, unknowingly to her, Death’s prison. She had been in this realm just weeks before the victory over the Valkyries, though she could not recall why. She tugged her chains in an attempt to at least grant herself a bit of room to fight, but the large skeleton monsters had their grips otherworldly tight. They were walking for what felt like ages before they came to a doorway, formed seemingly from the black mist that fell against the ground, fluttering away from any footstep. The doorway opened, and as they entered, Hela felt her breath exit her.
She was kicked to the ground before one of the massive monsters threw her into the room, the doorway disappearing behind her. Hela swore revenge and attempted to rise, but the black, seemingly glass chains were far heavier than she expected. Still, she managed to stand. She seemed to be in a large chamber, fit for a king or queen.
“Mmm…” She heard. A large, black throne, made seemingly out of the mist, suddenly formed in the center of the room. Its back was facing Hela, but she could see wisps of a dark cloak ghosting the hard edges of the light-absorbing seat.
“You! Who are you!” She shouted, her chains rattling as she moved. The woman in the chair laughed in a low, sultry voice before Hela collapsed on the ground. When her bearings came to her, she was at the feet of the woman.
Her flesh was death-white and her cloak was black and shadowy. The woman was considerably voluptuous, with large breasts held by a taut, open corset showing off much of her pale cleavage. Her legs were crossed over, the right planted on the misty ground, and she wore tall, black heels over dark garters that receded into the odd whore’s cloak- of which had a slit in the left side, revealing almost too much of the being’s pale, substantial thigh. But, the most unnerving detail of this woman was her face.
Or lack thereof. Her face was a clean, polished white skull, with vacant, impossibly dark crevices. Hela was not intimidated by… whatever this woman was as the Goddess stood before her, though she seemed preoccupied with a yellowed photograph.
“Who are you?” The woman paused, the skull moving to ‘look’ at Hela. She held her chin high as the skull studied her, the photograph fading into black mist. The cloaked woman rose to stand before Hela, meeting her exactly at eye level despite her heels. The cloak she wore fell some distance past her feet, ghosting along the floor behind her.
“I am… Death.” The woman answered. While the jaw of the skull moved with the words, her voice- which sounded oddly warm and sultry- came from everywhere around her. Despite the illusion, Hela shook her head and scoffed.
“Please, I am the goddess of Death. I have conquered the Nine Realms and Asgard’s Valkyries. I shall conquer you too.” She said, her voice condescending and commanding. "Unless you would like to join my side," She offered, raising an eyebrow.
Death scoffed at Hela before a supernatural force pushed the woman in chains to the ground. She was then lifted up, and black glass bars suddenly formed out of the mist, harder and stronger than any metal. The chains welded and melted cleanly to the bars, locking Hela’s arms above her head. Realizing what had happened in the brush of a moment, Hela writhed and struggled in the chains, however it turned out fruitless.
Death placed her hands against the bars and leaned her body to the right side, pushing the left of her curvaceous hip out. Her solid, pale thigh and shadowy, curvy calf emerging from the slit in her cloak.
"You really don't know what's happening, do you?" Death laughed sultrily. Hela groaned when the chain didn't relent, gritting her teeth in her best attempt to show her dominance as her horns refused to come forward.
"You're a captive. A prisoner. You’re my prisoner, a gift from your father,” Death smiled at the Goddess’ rage. “Don’t worry, this prison is tied to Odin’s life force, so… We have until Odin dies, to have some fun…” Death smirked dirtily, though Hela knew she meant nothing fun for her. “But…” She whispered, stroking a bar of the cage almost erotically, “Unfortunately he doesn’t want you too old when this prison fades, so I promised that the fifteen-hundred-or-so years he has left-” she sighed dramatically “- will only be a few hours, to us…” She sounded disappointed but stood nonetheless. “So, I guess we’ll wait for it, hm?” She sighed, turning back to her glassy throne. Her round, firm butt swayed back and forth slightly before she faced Hela again and sat, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her elbow, which she rested on the arm of her throne.
Hela felt a swell of confidence knowing how short a time she would be here. “You think mere hours will torture me?” She asked incredulously, looking the voluptuous woman up and down in slight disgust. Death laughed breathily.
“I think that’s up to you, Goddess of death.” Death asserted.
Some Hours Later
It had been… Hela had no idea. She knew it had to have been a few hours at least, as Death had been filling her in on centuries worth of happenings. Apparently, her father had traded her life for a safe opportunity to gain a new wife. They had a boy of theirs, calling him their firstborn. Hela felt only more anger and murderous resentment enter her being as she learned of her half-brother, Thor: God of Thunder. Her loyal weapon, Mjolnir, was bestowed upon the child, Death commented.
“Mm, he’s good with it- kid can already summon lightning. Better than you, I imagine.” Hela felt the uncomfortable feeling of her dominance being threatened, but she kept her face as neutral as possible- well, her ‘neutral’ face was still very pissed off in this whore’s presence, but it was the best she felt she needed- despite her half-brother’s successes. Death was obviously expressionless, but she still looked bored as she sat there. Her leg on top of the other was bouncing with boredom as the green flames in the eye sockets of her skull told her all that happened.
It was a few empty minutes before Death spoke again. “Oh, Thor’s first real battle, how exciting,” Her tone was duplicitous to her words. Death ran her soft palm down the hard ridges of her skull and sighed dramatically. “We still have a few hours, Goddess, get comfortable,” she mumbled as Hela rustled her dark chains again. Hela was feeling the slight beginnings of another uncomfortable feeling, and one that she definitely didn’t want to have while she was restrained in such an exposing manner.
Hela was beginning to feel her bladder complain. It wasn’t anything extreme yet, and she could definitely hold it in for however many hours she had left in the prison, but with no other distractions than Death’s lusty, breathy commentary, she knew it would be the only thing she’d be able to concentrate on. It felt more awkward as of now and Hela couldn’t stop a groan of impatience and rising stress.
“How much longer, demon?” She asked irritatedly. Death seemingly looked her over and chuckled to herself. She rose from her seat and approached Hela’s cage, her hips swaying with every dull click of her dark heels- every other step, her pale leg flashing out of its home.
“We’re going at about two hundred years an hour, I’m working this as fast as I can,” Her bottom jaw clicked against her top with frustration and boredom. “We have to get to the very end of twenty-seventeen for Odin’s death. Why, getting antsy?” She asked, tilting her weight onto a single leg. She put her small hand on her hip, causing her leg to once again present itself through the slit in her cloak.
Hela would not admit to this… lesser being- of who’s force she was in control of- of her need to relieve herself. However long they had left, she could hold herself out. As Death analyzed Hela’s retrained body, she saw a slight shift as the goddess tightened her thighs together and pulled her hips back and in.
“Oh, already?” Dammit. “Well, we’re only in the twelve-hundreds, so you got around four hours left. If you don’t make it… don’t worry, this place will be gone when Odin dies. If you do, that’s when you should probably find somewhere to…” She trailed off, using her free right hand to motion to the Goddess.
Four hours. She could wait four hours. Hela felt her bladder pulse lightly and tightened her jaw. Four hours, that was all that was left.
Four hours.
Two and a Half Hours Later
She wasn’t so sure anymore. It had, by her estimates, been only two, maybe two and a half hours and Hela’s bladder was worsening. It felt heavy and needing, and it took much of her impressive willpower to resist crossing her thighs- at least her legs were free. She was growing angrier as time passed, resenting Lady Death for feeling the need to bind her hands above her head when she was already in a cage. At the very least, she wanted to be able to remove her outfit so as to not ruin it.
“We are now in the seventeen hundreds, only an hour and a half left, Goddess. Can you still hold on?” She asked tauntingly, taking pride as Hela flinched at the verbal mention of her need.
“I’m… confident I can reach that goal, I’ve gone longer, you being,” Hela spat, drilling holes into Death’s pale flesh with her steel-coloured glare. Death scoffed with what could’ve only been a smile by the sound of it. There was a sudden drop in her bladder- almost as if it had decided to take its matters into its own hands- that Hela instinctively and immediately had to cross her legs to avoid an early disaster. She bent over as much as her restraints would allow and groaned lowly. Death exclaimed in a similar tone when Hela bent herself.
“Confident, huh? It’s starting to look a little rough there. Why not just let go, it would most likely be easier,” Death considered. This time it was Hela’s turn to scoff. The drop in her bladder faded, and the Goddess carefully took her proper stance. She looked to Death, who had her chin on her fist as she studied Hela.
“That would be… childish, unbecoming and disgusting, though I don’t expect such a primitive being as yourself in under stand,” Hela commented roughly, though the intensity brought a poke from her bladder. She crossed her legs in her best attempt to hold it.
Death teleported to the cage’s edge in an instant. Her stance angered by the insult and her cloak fluttered around her, almost like it was mildly windy. “Primitive? I’m not the one in the cage, I must remind you,”
“As much of a displacement and disappointment as that is,” Hela quipped.
“At least I’m not going to shame myself with failure,” Death spat back. Hela clenched her jaw in response. She wouldn’t allow the reality to sink in quite yet, but the very back of her subconscious warned her of its truth. She warded it off and responded with,
“I assure you, I will make it,”
“Then what? You won’t be returning to Asgard, I can assure you. You may as well do it here, where no one can possibly know it happened,” Death proposed.
Hela took but a second to consider Death’s idiotic idea. “I would never do it before the likes of you, and never within my uniform,”
“I could turn around,” Death mocked.
“And the uniform?”
“Oh, that’s something that I don’t care about. In uniform, out of uniform, doesn’t matter to me,” Death sighed, clearly growing apathetic.
“How am I to get out of my uniform?” Hela asked, eyeing Death with incredible caution.
“Well…” She held the ‘el’ far longer than necessary, “You could ask really nicely,” Death offered falsely.
“You are scum,” Hela spat, tensing her legs as her bladder ached with pain.
“I am Death.” With that, Death turned back to her throne and returned, sitting in a relaxed position as she silently resumed studying Hela’s now-desperate form with interest. A few minutes of occasional squirming from Hela later, Death commented, “I could make you, you know. Would that be easier?” It was mocking and high-held, but Hela could tell that it would be more of a forceful ‘make’ than a gentle.
“I already stated- I can make it. Get yourself a pair of ears,” She jabbed, tightening her thighs. Her bladder quivered with need, and Hela’s upward stance didn’t help her. The goddess bowed her head and did her absolute best to fold her body in an attempt to hold it.
“Well, you better be doing your best to hold it, because we still have two hundred more years to go. That’s an hour, last offer,” Death proposed again.
“I’d rather fail.” Hela spat bitterly. Death scoffed and simply said,
“Well, okay.”
Thirty minutes passed before Hela felt the first leak. She tightened her legs impossibly further as warmth filled her crotch more, spreading into the tight fabric that made up her uniform. She bit her tongue to resist groaning, though Death noticed the movement when the glassy chains rattled- her interest had fallen off Hela and back onto her photograph.
“Oh, is it happening?” Death asked, crossing one pale leg over the other in interest. Hela breathed hard before looking up to her captor.
“No… I’m making it, despite you.” Hela swore, looking into the soulless eye sockets with contempt thicker than Death’s milky thighs. Death laughed before rising. She moved to Hela’s cage and began circling it like a vulture ready to steal its prey away.
“Are you so sure? It’s only nineteen-oh-nine, we still have a half-hour left. Will you make it? Will you make it, even if you think of fast-moving streams?” Hela swallowed at Death’s words, her bladder pulsing with need. “Bubbling rivers, trickling along so freely?” She moaned at the end of those words, mimicking the relief and freedom that would come so easy if Hela were to just-
“Stop,” The goddess warned threateningly, despite the fact she had no power.
“Even if you think of tall waterfalls, sending splashes of warm, warm water everywhere? Even if you think of a small trickle, drip, drip…” Death was now popping her voice with every 'p'. "Dri-puh..."
Drip, drip. Almost perfectly synchronized to Death’s words, Hela felt her bladder leak a few small sprays of its vast contents.
“Think of a hot, beautiful geyser, just gushing with water, absolutely losing its control, like if your legs were to be uncrossed. Like a dam just bursting, I’d bet,” Death moaned. Hela felt her bladder beg for its release as Death tormented her with the sounds and the images her mind generated were almost more merciless.
“Imagine slow, steady squirts just escaping you… spsh, spsh…”
Hssss…
Hela screamed in rage as her legs fell apart, her damn shattering. An ear-ripping hkkk emanated from her urethra as her bladder drained into her uniform. The goddess thrashed her chains as her legs turned inwards from a loss of control, hot streams running down her thighs and her calves before it pooled at her feet. There was a relentless splashing below her as what piss didn’t flow into her uniform spilled from her clothed vagina and fell, growing the puddle around her.
Death cheered in surprised amazement. “So much for making it,” she commented slyly.
“I, am going to kill you!” Hela shouted, though all the bite in her threat was stolen by her ferocious piss slapping the puddle of the same beneath her and her cheeks heating with shame and rage. Hela had to fight a groan of relief, but it slowly morphed into deep, sharp rage. She stood there for seemingly minutes as she wet herself uncontrollably, her anger only growing as did her puddle. Her bladder slowly began running itself empty, and Hela spread her legs slightly to coerce the rest out, now acknowledging that it was better to be completely empty than preserve just that much dignity and control. As the blast reduced to but the thinnest rivulet along her inner thighs, Hela promised vengeance against her captor.
The stream finally faded with a final shiver firing lightning up Hela’s spine. She roared as she stood on quivering legs, weak from relief. Her cage, her chains and the throne disappeared, leaving only the Goddess and the Embodiment.
“Me?” Death asked glaringly as she knelt next to Hela. “No.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because first, you have to kill Thor Odinson and Loki Laufeyson, and anyone else who crosses your path to them.”
“Why would I listen to you?”
“Because I am your commissioner, and Thor Odinson is the greatest threat to my greatest prize!” With an otherworldly strength, Death grabbed Hela by the throat and heaved her up off the ground. “Am I clear, Goddess of Death!”
With but a reluctant nod, Death, the prison and the wetness in her crotch, on her as and covering her thighs disappeared, and Hela was left in darkness. But, from far away, she saw a splash of green, hearing her father’s voice emanating indiscernibly. She moved, slowly towards it, as with the knowledge she had of her banishment, she was prepared to kill.
To kill him, Thor, Loki and anyone else who crossed her path.
There you are @diokno44x, my best representation of 'Thor: Ragnarok's Hela. Apologies for the late post, many things took up my time. Regardless, I hope this representation is more satisfying and accurate to your expectations. If another Hela piece is requested, I recommend requesting either 'Redeemed' or 'Ragnarok', as 'Redeemed' will hereby the default. The next piece set to release is 'Pepper Stark/Rescue'. And, if you want to read a piece with your favourite Marvel woman, a certain situation, or even both, write it down and I will eventually get to it. I write down every request and load them into a backlog where I then work on them in the order of 'oldest to newest'- essentially, first-come, first-written. Either way, I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading.
Best regards,
NothingLeft
P.S.- I wanted to quickly mention that, as some may have noticed, there has been a request for a 'Bathroom Line' piece, and I have acknowledged it and plan to write it. But, I want to have at least one solo piece for each woman- as all will be in that piece- and wanted to preface; You are fully welcome to request a character's second piece, as the pieces I write for myself will be for then-unrequested characters. I apologize again, but I wish to explore every character's personality, desperation stages and reaction to wetting before writing such a monumental task as all twenty-three characters. Regardless, thank you again for reading this and have a good day, you beautiful lovely. |
Pepper
Stark Laboratory, November 2024
Tony was typing quickly on a small keyboard laid within a table, running diagnostics on his two most recent suits, the Mark XC and the Mark XCI- his and Pepper’s ‘Iron Man’ and ‘Rescue’ suits respectively. Apparently there was a mishap with the circuitry when the nanobots formulated, causing the left-hand repulsor to expel more heat than it was meant to which led to easy overheating when used repeatedly. Luckily, the bug was found before Rhodey’s Mark XCII War Machine suit was manufactured, which featured more powerful repulsors. If the bug had gone undetected, Rhodey would have had minor burns after just four shots in a close time frame.
“Circuitry diagnostic completed, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.- Tony’s female-voiced, Irish-accented AI assistant commented. Tony nodded and sipped some black coffee from a square black ceramic mug.
“Excellent. Continue diagnostics and check all system health within the major OS, then import all relevant OS data, statistics, battle strategies, as well as facial recognition and UI preferences from Marks eighty-four and eighty-five respectively, please.” Tony asked- the four gap suits had been prototypes for a more complicated and advanced nanobot structure, intelligence, simulated material and integrity- before he turned to a 3D hologram of his own suit. The entire suit was the same translucent light blue, part the circuitry within which was highlighted in green and the malfunctioning parts in red. The suit became opaque once more, with a shiny red-and-gold colour scheme.
“Yes boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied obediently despite the- to an average human mind- tall and complex order. Tony nodded and spun the hologram on his suit to analyze the back. It was a few minutes before F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke again.
“Boss, I found somet’n… Interesting, perhaps,” Tony looked to the diagnostics screen, seeing nothing on his suit highlighted.
“Pep’s suit?” He asked. “What’s ‘interesting’?”
“Well,” The AI began. “All other systems are healthy and operational in Marks ninety and ninety-one, but when I import data and statistics from Mark eighty-four- missus Stark’s suit-” Tony smiled with pride “- I’ve found that two of the four waste recycling systems have never been activated, boss.” Tony turned back to the diagnostics screen and swiped over to Pepper’s statistics and data. Indeed, two hadn’t been used.
“Do we have records for doubleyou-are-esses one, two, three and four?” Tony asked, sipping his coffee again.
“Boss, we do. Waste Recycling System Four- otherwise known as ‘The Hurler Protocol’- was used once, five months and three days ago, boss.”
“Right, the Hulk-Out. When Nat got shot, I…” Tony trailed off, shivering at the memory. “I remember I used more than that when that… PR disaster happened,” He commented.
“Indeed, boss, you made use of three then, and all four over the suit’s lifespan.”
“And doubleyou-are-ess three?”
“Waste Recycling System Three, known as ‘The Gas Passer Protocol’ is used regularly, last used four days ago, boss. But if I may, boss, I believe the lack of use of Waste Recycling Systems one and two- ‘The Party Emergency Protocol’ and ‘The Terror Protocol’ respectively- may serve to explain missus Stark’s sporadic disappearances from the field.” Tony sat in consideration, nodding slowly.
“Why? Why hasn’t she used them?” He asked.
“She reports that ‘they’re gross and weird’, boss, despite the recycling. I have also checked the recycler health with the added artillery functionality, and the systems are a-hundred-percent functional,”
“Hmm,” Tony mumbled, preoccupied with why Pepper hadn’t used the recycling systems. “We gotta get her to try the systems, if only to increase combat presence and efficacy,”
“I could lock her suit, boss,”
“No, she knows ‘The Canopy Protocol’- Could we,” he paused, working his way through the answer in his head. “We could move the OS’s soft-open system signaler to... My suit, that way I could…” He paused and ran his hand down his face. “I could control the soft-open mechanism, and pretty much… That’s not, that’s not cruel, is it?”
“Ethically?”
“Rhetorical,” He was thinking, what would Pepper’s reaction be to this? Well, she would obviously be pissed off- nothing new there- and the suit would absorb the result, so she wouldn’t be angry about that, at the very least- the way the suit recycled was admittedly a small bit invasive. When the signal of release of any bodily function would be released, a nanobot tube would snake into the wearer’s clothes and attach itself to the urethra or anus and… well, simply be there to absorb and transfer anything to a small recycling system. The waste would be separated into its useful parts- in this case water- and the true waste, the useful parts being recycled and reused or reintroduced to the wearer when necessary.
“Even so sir, ‘The Canopy Protocol’ would still override soft-opening,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. pointed out, Tony nodding as he worked out a safe way to effectively force his wife to go in her suit, without trapping her in it. He would never forgive himself if Pepper died because her suit was locked out of her control.
“Yeah, I guess do it- move the soft-open system from her OS to mine, but leave ‘The Canopy Protocol’ untouched. If she ‘Canopy’s, she ‘Canopy’s.” Tony finally commanded, though he added a hasty “Mute,” when Pepper came racing down the basement stairs.
“Tony! Tony, there’s a problem!” She sounded out of breath.
“What?”
“Code Green!” Tony’s face dropped and dam well nearly turned white.
“Son of- F.R.I.D.A.Y., forget the tests, apply all changes and enter Emergency Mode, green! We need the armour now!” Immediately, two pillars in the wall spun, revealing two shiny, full-body suits. One was red and gold with a light blue, glowing circle in the chest. The other was blue and silver, the circle identical but white in colour. The blue suit was slimmer with a slightly larger chest and ever-so wider hips.
“Morgan?” Tony asked quickly.
“Happy’s still here and May’s on her way,”
With a nod Tony ran into the red-and-gold as Pepper ran into the blue-and-silver before two valves above the suits opened. The couple engaged the flight systems and blasted through the valves.
As they accelerated through the air, Tony spoke “F.R.I.D.A.Y., news or footage- keyword; Hulk!” Many pieces of both professional and amateur camerawork popped up on both Tony and Pepper’s in-helmet heads-up-display. They were all of similar events: A huge, green monster in a tight black bodysuit leapt across New York towards a construction site. Some angles even showed the beast had a redheaded woman in black, a long-haired brunette woman in everest green, a long-haired brunet man dressed in black and a helmeted man in blue in his grasp. Behind him was the Falcon, flying at his fastest possible speed and still only barely keeping pace.
“Head to those co-ord’s, Pep!”
“Yep!”
“And F.R.I.D.A.Y., call in Vee-Three and Vee-Four!” Thanks to emergency mode, F.R.I.D.A.Y. obeyed, but one thing Tony had missed when he had left his home had been a message on the screen relating to his changes to the OS.
‘Executive Password Required’.
Two Hours Later
As Red Hulk leapt away in defeat with Red She-Hulk in his arms, Tony and Pepper could finally breathe easy. The skirmish had lasted a while longer than either had anticipated. The threat Natasha had called in to them had been Thaddeus Ross and his daughter Betty Ross- the Red Hulk and the Red She-Hulk. Usually, it wouldn’t have taken eight of them- Hulk, Black Widow, Agent: Genesis, Falcon, Captain America, White Wolf as well as Iron Man and Rescue- more than more than ten minutes, as Tony and Pepper could easily take them on with nothing but their Hulkbuster suits, but there had been a slight deployment error and they never came.
Hulk had done the most damage to the pair, obviously. Natasha, who had been distracting them with an occasional peppering of gunshots, had gotten cornered by Betty. Hulk, seeing his lover in danger, had reacted almost too harshly. He had grabbed Red She-Hulk by the arm and threw her away, but the force of his rage-fueled throw had accidentally ripped Betty’s arm off in the process.
That and he had forgotten to let go.
She and Thaddeus had fled to allow Betty’s arm to regenerate, leaving the Avengers victorious again. Sam and Peggy were catching their breath, Natasha was Hulk’s arms as he worried over her and Steve and Bucky were surveying damage, both of the site and of the others. No one was badly injured; Natasha was practically untouched as was Hulk, Sam and Peggy both had a few scratches and Sam had a rough bruise on his head, Steve and Bucky were both healing from their injuries and the worst that Tony and Pepper were experiencing were dents in their suits- they had both caught rather wicked blows from Thaddeus, but it was nothing Tony’s incredibly advanced nanobots couldn’t protect against.
“Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., we can deactivate ‘Emergency Mode’.”
Silence.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”
Still silence.
“Shit, there must be some interference,” Tony whispered, already thinking of ways to remedy it when he returned home. Pepper sighed in slight irritation at F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s absence- with a groan Tony recognized. He had to stop himself from smiling when Pepper looked around uncomfortably. He switched his voice from the Avengers-earpiece to the in-helmet communicator that only transmitted between him and Pepper.
“You okay?” Pepper switched her voice over as well an responded with,
“Yeah, I just need to get home,”
“Uh, okay. I’m sure Morgan’s okay-”
“It’s not that, Tony,” Pepper groaned.
“Oh. You know the suit has a function for that,” Tony suggested, excited that the situation he had planned was finally playing out.
“Oh my God, Tony- no, I’m not… going in the suit,” Pepper spoke incredulously.
“Alright, fine. Let’s get home, then,” Tony complained, activating his thrusters. Well he tried to. Nothing happened, however. “What the Hell?”
“What?”
“The thrusters… The thrusters aren’t working,”
“What? Why not?” Pepper asked, her voice rising in pitch a little bit.
“I-I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bug,” Tony mumbed, looking at his gauntlets. He aimed his repulsor at a steel beam and fired, a blast indeed coming out from his palm. Hulk growled protectively at the shrill noise, turning Natasha away from the sound ever so. The redhead shifted in Hulk’s arms to look at Tony before questioning,
“What’sa matter, shellhead?”
“Nothin’, I was just…” Tony fell silent for a moment, considering another option. “Hey Nat, you wanna visit Morgan?”
Tony and Natasha were perfectly alright as Hulk soared through the air from his titanic jump, having been used to the feeling of flying for years. But Pepper- who had only been using her suit for a year- was not acclimated to flight she couldn’t control. She had a death grip on Hulk’s arm and her suit’s eyes never left the reapproaching ground. Hulk hit the ground hard- though he kept his cargo secure- and dashed along the ground at a near-train speed before leaping again, the ground giving a crack sound as he did. Pepper gave a tense gasp when, from the height of Hulk’s jump, their cabin came into view. They hit the peak of the jump before they slowly began falling again. The ground got closer and closer before Hulk slammed into it, slowly bringing his momentum down as he came to the Stark Cabin. When he came to a stop near the front porch, Morgan, Happy and May were all outside.
“Daddy!” Morgan rushed towards her father, still in his suit. He embraced his daughter in a hug.
“Hey Morgan. Look, me and mommy are having a little trouble with our suits, so go warm up Auntie Nat and Uncle Hulk, okay?” He then motioned for Pepper ro follow him. The two entered the house and into the basement. Tony moved over to the screens he had been working on prior to the mission.
“Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony called, though no response came. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had apparently been shut down. “How…” He rebooted the AI, and she responded with a-
“Hello boss,”
Pepper spoke to the AI, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., I can’t open my suit.”
“That’s because the suits have been locked, miss.” Pepper recoiled from the words in surprise.
“What? Why?” Before F.R.I.D.A.Y. could respond, the couple were suddenly met with a screen they were taken aback by.
‘Executive Password Required’.
“Exec password? Why?” Tony questioned confusedly.
“Some settings have been altered for possibly detrimental reasons, so an executive password is required to unlock Mark ninety and ninety-one suits.” Pepper groaned and the sound of metal-on-metal clunked together. Pepper had her legs squeezed together in desperate need. The Hulk’s jumping had clearly agitated her bladder far more.
“Tony, I have to pee!” She whimpered in embarrassed admission, her suit’s mask duplicitous to her needing movements and groans. “It’s bad,” She groaned, her armoured hands over her crotch.
“I know, I know,” He replied. He moved his hand to the panel of letters, but paused.
“What’s the matter?” She asked desperately, rocking her body back and forth. She whined again, her hands desperately clawing at the crotch of her suit in a fervent attempt to grab herself.
“I… Uh, F.R.I.D.A.Y., what systems are offline?” A list appeared as the AI read them, one by one.
“Soft-lock opening systems, weapons systems, flight systems-”
“What protocols are offline?”
“All protocols, boss,”
“Shit!” He cursed, shaking his head. Pepper whimpered again, once again shakily asking her husband what was wrong. Tony sighed with consideration. “Shit…”
“No, no no! Fff… Tony! I just… Please!” Pepper cried. Tony’s breath hitched when Pepper gasped shrilly, telling him the smallest drip of sunlight-coloured urine had rolled down the inside of the shiny, sapphire-shaded surface of her armour’s thigh. He turned back to the password screen, his fingers only now realizing what exactly was wrong.
“I...” He sighed again.
“Tony!” Pepper cried.
“Maybe-”
“God, Tony please, I’m gonna-”
“I forgot the password!”
“What!” Pepper froze. Another spurt, a larger one, rolled down her thighs at the thought that she was stuck in her suit.
“Look, I have a lot of passwords, okay!” Tony defended. F.R.I.D.A.Y. backed him up as she confirmed with,
“It’s true, he does.”
“Tony, did you write it down?” Pepper asked, her voice breaking with pain. Her bladder was so full and it stung- no, it didn’t sting, not entirely. It burned. It was like fire was below her stomach, and every leak- one rolled from her pussy and trickled down her inner thigh, soaking into the fabric of her suit at the mere thought- felt like flames bursting forth. The groin of her undersuit was damp and hot, and the wetness and warmth was only spreading with every- fuck, not another one- leak, and the leaks were growing more and more common. The warmth was disturbingly accommodating, almost as if her expelled pee was beckoning the rest of it out of her, quite against her will. It was also... Hot. Both in the temperature and the sexual appeal, but Pepper absolutely would not piss her pants because she suddenly felt a little horny for whatever reason.
Her bladder pulsed again, bringing a cry and the tears that had budded in her eyes rolled down her cheeks from a whole matter of things; Fear of wetting herself. Shame of her need. Shame of admitting she wasn't opposed to losing control. Pain from her bladder’s constant crying. Her muscles were beginning to ache from holding, and she was truly wondering how much time she had left before the worst happened. It hurt so much. Her bladder pressed against the metal contact prevention suit- her undersuit- and the way the fabric rubbed against her tummy, her bladder, her dampened nether lips and her heated thighs was torturous, but not only in a negative way.
“No, that’s an easy way to forgo security-” Tony argued, testing out one password. It was rejected.
“Tony!” Pepper cried, her voice cracking again.
“Pep, I’m trying-” Another password, still rejected.
“Tony!”
“I’m doing my-” ‘Nope.’
“TONY!” Pepper screamed.
“Maybe…”
‘Got it,’
“Executive password accepted. All suit functions, systems, and protocols reengaged, boss,” Pepper laughed desperately and whimpered before asking,
“Tony! My suit-” she whimpered again, her legs squeezing together once again from within her armour “- still won’t open!” Her thighs were shaking and cries echoed from her helmet.
‘Yeah, I know, Pep,’ Tony thought with a smile. But, still, he knew it would be best to play along with a facade rather than admit, at least until Pepper finally used her suit’s capability. “What do you mean, Pep?”
“It won’t- Oh, god! Canopy, canopy, canopy!” She shouted desperately. Almost immediately, Pepper’s suit opened, releasing the redhead from her locked prison. Tony’s throat bobbed as he saw the dark spot covering his wife’s crotch. It was coating her vagina and dipped below onto the inner parts of her thighs. The fabric immediately over her vagina grew briefly shiny, and a few more strings of dark urine bled down from the large mark.
“No! Fuck, no, come on!” She begged, falling down to a squat in a last-ditch attempt to hold herself. The movement caused- either from her darkened undersuit or from another loss of control over her overfilled organ- a spurt of hot urine to spray onto the concrete floor. “...Fuck!” She cursed, her hands gaining a slight sheen as they tightened around her wet crotch with a slightly drawn-out squlch.
“Pep, the suit. It has a recycle function-”
“I’m not pissing in your suit, Tony!” She blushed ever so at the thought, but she pushed the disgusting- if she convinced herself it was gross, her mind wouldn't get aroused at it, right?
“C’mon, Pep,” He soothed, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s better than the alternative,”
Pepper grew silent apart from whimpers of desperation, telling him she knew he was right. She rose with a whimper, and another leak came with it- a larger one that caused the woman to whimper and hold her stance, slightly bent over and tears slowly running down her face. Her fingers were interlaced and crushed against her damp crotch, her fingers covered in a web of shiny urine. The feeling of wetness on her exposed skin only made the desire to empty more powerful, and that only made her disgusting fantasy more electrified.
In truth, Pepper had always been morbidly fascinated with... Pee accidents. When she had been a teenager, she had experimented with it. Nothing serious, though there was one night that would never leave her mind. Regardless, she would not allow something she had buried for so long to come back to haunt her now.
“Pep, come on,” Tony whispered, carefully wrapping his armoured arms around Pepper’s shoulders. Pepper’s eyes were glued shut, her thighs were stuck together at an impossible tension and her mouth was sucked in. She nodded and opened her eyes, turning to her suit in a final collapse. she would use the suit. Tony turned back to the control panel for the suits. There was silence for a few moments, part Pepper’s desperate whines until she spoke again.
“No… No, God, please…” She whimpered, with the slightest undertone of haughtiness. Tony turned to his wife confusedly before he prompted her once again to enter her suit. But it was then he heard it.
Drip. Drip. Drip. And it was slowly accelerating. Tony looked down and froze on the spot. The dark spot that barely presented on his wife’s rear was slowly, slowly growing. The darkness was shiny as liquid spilled down her slender, long legs at a pace envious of molasses, no doubt from Pepper's weakened attempts to hold her accident back. It crawled down her slender thighs, across and down her calves before creating a puddle at her feet. The small puddle also caught the liquid that fell directly from her crotch, and the golden-ish puddle was growing similarly to the darkness on and down her legs. Pepper sobbed quietly as a faint hissing began to come from her urethra to accompany the running liquid. Pepper’s hands clamped back down on her clothed pussy in a last-hour attempt to stem her incredible flow, however they only became more soaked. As time passed- it seemed like hours, day even, as Pepper sprayed- and the slight trickle was slowly morphing into a steady flow. The puddle beneath Pepper grew larger as lava-like urine poured down her legs, flowing gently yet with reckless abandon.
“Pep?” Tony asked quietly, not quite ready to face her wrath. Pepper sobbed a gasp of desperation and a fast-returning past she had long wanted to bury and her legs gave out, allowing her to collapse with a small splash in her hot pee, yet her flow was quite ceaseless. Tony came to her side and she collapsed into his shoulder. He couldn’t help but stare as his wife’s puddle grew, alongside a disturbingly arousing hissing. There was a bubbly splishing as her pee ran down out of her urethra, from her vagina, down her trembling thighs- absorbing into her undersuit as much as the already heavily saturated material allowed- and over her bent legs before pooling noisily in her puddle, which was already large. Pepper sobbed again, though the sob held a gasp of relief, no doubt thanks to the increasing lack of pressure on her other organs.
“It’s okay, Pep. Just get it all out,” Tony sighed when he eventually broke his trance with his wife’s desperate accident, rubbing her back. Pepper gasped in another sob as her vagina sputtered noisily. The volume of the hissing accelerated into a guttural tccch as she forced the remaining pee inside of her out of her sore, weakened bladder, into her undersuit and into her puddle the forceful push lasted several seconds and halfway through a golden-tinted jet even burst through her crotch to splash into her puddle. The sound was hellacious yet arousing, unknowingly to the both of them. Finally, the flow began dying. It was slow, but eventually the forceful blast faded to a steady stream to a slight, everlasting trickle. The trickle seemed to drag out time, only punctuated by Pepper’s saddened yet satisfied gasps and sobs. Eventually, the trickling, accentuated by the eponymous and alluring noise, ceased.
Pepper’s chest was shuddering with sobs and gasps of relief and peace, despite her sopping wet undersuit and the puddle that lay beneath her. It was still warm and the warmth brought an alien but sure comfort and... The arousal she knew was inevitable.
“Oh God…” Pepper sighed, as if just realizing what had occurred over the past few minutes. “I… I didn’t make it,” She sighed, though not in utter discontent, disappointment or despair as Tony had expected, but with… A compromised sigh. Yes, she had wet herself. Forcefully. But, the warmth radiating both into and away from her entrance was not only comforting- as was Tony’s embrace around her, which she felt like he could melt into at any given time- but it was… Well, it was making her a whole other kind of wet, and she definitely would die of embarrassment if her husband knew she was getting turned on by a pee accident she easily could have avoided had she listened..
But, a sudden shame took over her mind when a squelch came from between her hot, soaked, trembling thighs. Subconsciously and very much out of her control, she rubbed her legs together, feeling her vagina grow more heated. She bit back a moan when her movement stopped. Her haughy mind had thrown years of discipline and abolishment of her horrid... fetish as her clitoris pulsed subtly against her swollen, reddened, soaked- in both ways- lips.
Tony seemed oblivious to her pleasure and whispered, “Come on, Pep, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” She nodded wordlessly, nestling into his armoured shoulder before she suddenly realized that he was still in his suit.
“I thought it would’ve been awkward to, y’know, get it in the middle of… Are you okay? That was more than I thought your petite little body was even capable of holding,” Tony laughed, his suit evaporating to the circle of light in the center of his chest.
“Well, I think I just proved I couldn’t hold it, Tony,” Pepper pointed out, her face heating at the rather... there was just away that saying felt to her that tickled a part of her... interest a bit too much. Tony scoffed a laugh and nodded with,
“Touché. Though, why didn’t you get in the suit?” He asked, giving her a look. She merely shrugged, unable to formulate an answer to his very legitimate question. It was a combination of her body had sheerly given up, and had drained her pressured organ of its own volition. But another part was that she didn’t want to get in the suit. It was like…
Like…
Like she wanted this, though she’d never say it.
“Anyway, come on, I’ll run you a bath, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Would you like… company?” He asked carefully, knowing he'd be stepping on eggshells of anyone else.
“I would, yes. I…” She sighed. “I kind of have another problem, too,”
“Oh? Are you turned on because you wet yourself, missus Stark?” Tony asked with a smirk. The immature and fetishized term made Pepper’s face catch fire with embarrassment. “Oh, really? I suppose, my love, you have a fetish,” The salacious way he lathered the filthy, stigmatized, taboo word into the air to carelessly and casually sent a shock up the redhead’s spine- a shock that soon jetted down to her vagina, lubricating it even further.
She sighed in defeat. "I know. I've known since high school, but I just... Wanted to bury it. It's so..." She trailed off, too embarrassed to continue. Well, she had just admitted to her husband that she had pissed her pants in her teenage years and liked it, it didn't get anymore embarrassing.
"Pep, you don't bury these things. I've got them, y'know-" at the mention, Pepper poked her cheek with her tongue in a salaciously suggestive manner- "-and they just... they don't need to be shunned. But, that’s for another day. Come one, Pep, bathtime,” Pepper rose with Tony as he offered her his hand, and the stch that came from the still-warm fabric only tickled her embarrassing but amazing rediscovery. Tony roped her into a chaste kiss before beckoning her to follow upstairs.
So, yes. Virginia ‘Pepper’ Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, wife of the world-saving Iron Man, proud mother and powerful Avenger Rescue…
Liked peeing her pants, and has since her high school days,
Funny how that sounds, but… she wasn’t at all opposed to truly exploring this… Part of her.
So, a quick 'Request Granted' to @Kitty Angel for their Pepper chapter, and then... The elephant in the room, my disappearance. Well, I'll just be truthful, because they are very weak reasons. The first was this chapter. I wanted to stay loyal to the prompt given while also not violating either Tony or Pepper's characters too much, and that in combination with making sure all of F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s protocols and mannerisms were consistent and sensical, et cetera, et cetera. Regardless, this piece went through, I shit you not, seven rewrites before I settled on this turn of events. I know it ends in a cliche, with the wetter "aCtUaLlY bEiNg InTo It", but I felt by adding history, it was given validity. Maybe not, but now I'm prattling. The second reason was, again, quite bullshit, and that is burnout. I have been burned out of writing projects before, and when I felt burnout creeping in on this, I panicked and stopped posting for it. So, I'm most likely not going to be able to support a piece a day, which I apologize greatly for. I promise, the other requests- Natasha wetting and then Emma and Wanda forcing someone else to wet- are underway, as promised, I just can't give a concrete date. Again, I'm so sorry for disappearing, and I hope this chapter can begin to make amends.
Regardless, enjoy this chapter. I can't be sure when Natasha is coming, but it is in the works. In the meantime, feel free to request any character, prompt or both, as long as they adhere to the first post's rules. Thank you for reading and putting up with my fussy bullshit.
Best regards,
NothingLeft
I am sincerely sorry for my disappearance. |
Natasha Romanoff
Before this begins, I want to preface one thing. People can ship who they want with who they want, I don't care. I don'y care if you ship Romanogers, or WinterWidow or if the Avengers are all one big poly group, or anything else. I respect people putting fictional characters with other fictional characters and having them bang. I just hope that courtesy can be extended, because the ship within this piece, as well as every future 'Black Widow' piece is... Lamented, I suppose. Again, ship who you wish with anyone, just please respect my ship. Sorry for the introduction like this, on with the piece.
Privatized Stark Pool, July 2024
Natasha sighed as the warm sun hit her exposed skin. It had been over eight months since- not to brag- she had dealt the final blow to the massive underground crime ring’s leader, Wilson “Kingpin”Fisk. It had been a harder fight than she had expected- he was massive, and most of his mass was muscle despite his rotund appearance. He had, earlier in the lifespan of the crime organization- the Avengers had been fighting this crime ring for almost two months before Natasha ended it- caught Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf himself, in a hand-to-hand fistfight, and Fisk had held his own until Captain America joined in. And even then the mob boss had still been doing remarkably well.
Despite all that, the man wasn’t bulletproof. Natasha had made quite sure of that, especially after one of his henchmen had shot her in the leg, leading to… Well, to a dangerously fatal Hulk-Out that had caused quite “the PR disaster”, as Tony kept putting it.
Regardless, Natasha warmed herself in the sun and smiled, her amber sunglasses shielding her closed eyes. Any sound around her was muted by operatic orchestral music- her lover had recommended it, and she had to admit it was indeed calming and relieved her stress quite well- coming through white earbuds wired to her phone beside her. Beneath her was a crimson towel and nearby beside her was her third bottle of water, near-empty due to the sun’s heat.
The only thing her somewhat pale body was censored by was a deep, rich red two-piece swimsuit. It was relatively conservative for a swimsuit; the cups wrapped around her full, clear-fleshed C-cup breasts comprehensively, leaving only slight swells above the line of the padding. The bottom piece was also quite hiding as it had a removable swimskirt attached, though it was only draped over her left leg. The skirt dropped down to the apex of her calf, leaving the rest of her silky, pale leg- as well as her entire right leg- nude to the eye.
Natasha resettled her body, smiling genuinely as the sun kept her flesh warm. The skirt on her bikini was, similarly to her towel, underneath her to ensure as cohesive a tan as possible- though, if it had been just her and her lover, she would have gone for a complete tan. However, there were others around, leaving Natasha to have to deal with much despised tan lines. Nevertheless, as the Black Widow breathed a deep, contented sigh, she received a sudden and cold awakening when water splashed onto her thigh. She removed her earbuds and sat up, joyous sounds now reaching her ears.
Sam Wilson, the Falcon, and Peggy Carter, Agent Genesis, were wrestling in the water quite nearby her- no doubt the cause of the splash of Natasha’s leg- Peggy giggling and squealing when Sam grabbed her foot from underwater. James Rhodes, the War Machine and Hela were under the shade of an old oak tree, Hela also under a dark towel. Happy Hogan, the Bodyguard, and May Parker alongside Thor, Loki, Valkyrie and Sif were in a nearby hot tub, and Morgan Stark was in the shallowest part of the pool with her parents, learning how to swim. Clint and Laura Barton- Hawkeye and Mockingbird- were lounging on the edge of the large pool, their three children- Lila, Cooper and Nathan, alongside Cassie Lang, Scott Lang, or Ant-Man’s teenage daughter- hitting around an inflatable ball. Wanda Maximoff was on the edge of the pool, whispering with a smile to her synthetic boyfriend Vision, who was on the rim of the water. Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne, or the Wasp- the couple had been married just over a month now- were napping in a cuddle against a wall of a building nearby, wrapped in a towel similarly to Hela. Mary Jane Watson and Peter Parker, or Spider-Man were in a corner of the pool occasionally stealing kisses from each other, and Christina ‘Angel Dust’ Catastrophie and Piotr ‘Colossus’ Rasputin were both on land, sharing a book. Piotr was leaned back while Christina read over his shoulder, holding an oddly feminine stance- at least for the six-foot mountain of a woman that could punch through sheer rock.
However, as Natasha scanned her surroundings, there was one very important person she couldn’t pick out. Among all her other comrades, there was one very important man she couldn’t find. But, when she rose in concern, a shadow underneath the water moved around Sam and Peggy’s wrestling bodies. The shadow became more defined and more lean as the person beneath the surface came closer until a head of dark brown hair, slightly greying around the roots, pierced the water. A tanned, wise face followed, the man’s eyes were a mysterious and deep dark brown in colour.
Natasha smiled as the man, only his head emerging from the slightly turbulent surface of the sparkly, clear water. Natasha turned herself around on her towel to lay on her tummy, putting her chin on her wrists and smiling at the man. Her lips were pink and shiny from a gentle coat of lip gloss. She licked her soft bottom lip in a playfully seductive manner.
“Hey lover,” She drawled slowly, holding her ‘L’ for a moment as to let her agile tongue flick out of her mouth teasingly. The man in the water smiled at her words before his long, and rather hairy, arms came above the water and pressed against the rim of the pool. He pushed himself up out of the water, revealing his lean muscular body. He was wiry but still visibly strong. His chest was covered in dark, thick hair that led all the way down below the waistband of his black swim shorts. He brought his body over the water level and sat on the concrete.
“What brings you here?” He asked, giving her a knowing smile. Natasha smiled lovingly, a look surely foreign to the dangerous Black Widow if you didn’t know her. But, to those who did…
May 2018
“He did…” Natasha whimpered, her voice on the edge of tears. The… The Avengers left from the Snap- Steve, Tony, Bruce, Rhodey, Hela, Nebula, Thor, Carol and Natasha herself- waited around patiently, staring and mourning as acquaintances, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and fellow Avengers that had been victims of the Snap appeared on floating screens as Natasha struggled to speak. “He did exactly what he said he was gonna do…” She coughed. Bruce gave her a sad, empathetic look, nodding to tell her to continue. “He… eliminated half of all life,” Her voice broke when Laura Barton’s face appeared on the screens in the air.
So many had disappeared. The confident high-flyer, Sam Wilson. The humble father, Scott Lang. The ever hard-lifer, Bucky Barnes. The adorably excitable Peter Parker. The wise prodigious king, T’Challa, Laura Barton and all three of her children, and so, so many more. Though, through all the pain and strife Natasha knew she would barely cope with, through all the strain and ache this event would cause, she knew one thing, she knew one man that would help her through it all, even though he had just come back less than a month ago.
Natasha looked up and swallowed the lump in her throat as Bruce came close to her. He carefully wrapped his arms around her- careful to avoid the nasty healing wound she had taken from Thanos in the battle for life. Natasha bowed her head onto Bruce’s shoulder and sighed a breath shaky from the stress and the loss.
“Where is he, Rogers?” Tony asked weakly from the table.
“Don’t know, he just opened up a portal and walked away,” Rogers whispered across from Tony, gazing at an old, scratched golden compass from the forties. Inside were two pictures. One of Bucky, with his long hair and scruffy jaw and another of a brunette with shiny red lips. “But I know for sure, we’re going after the bastard,” He muttered, clasping the compass closed.
Tony suddenly stood, almost outraged at Rogers’ words.
“Really? We? We’re going after him? Cause,” he paused, scratching his head, “Last time there was a we, we blew up an airport, Cap! We blew up an airport and you ran away!” The venom in his words visibly hurt Steve, only exacerbated by the masked ‘coward’ comment. “But, no! Now, now that there’s a big bad we have’ta kill, you’re all about we again!” It was at this point that Rhodey moved between Tony and Steve.
“‘Kay, Tony, y’made your point, now just sit down,”
“Or is it just because we do our best after the fact!” Tony shouted, though Natasha separated from Bruce, enraged, and slammed her fists on the table. Everyone in the room jumped, some more than others.
“Yes, Tony! There’s a ‘we’ again! The only reason there wasn’t before is because an alien invasion was used against us! Because Steve had to stop millions of deaths- including yours, mine, Sam’s, Peter’s, Bruce’s-” everyone in the room did their best to ignore the cracks in her voice and the tears in the very corners of her eyes “- and everyone else that was on this team! Because a well-meaning woman made a mistake with powers she couldn’t hope to understand yet! Is that a problem Tony? Well, it’s not my fault that you can’t put aside your fucking problems for more than five minutes!” She shouted, coming right up to Tony’s seat. He looked at her with a tired expression as she approached, but he dared not respond. Everyone knew that an angry Black Widow was not to be trifled with.
Well, almost everybody.
“When you two are done arguing like children, we have a monster to kill,” The new girl, Carol, spoke from her place. Natasha gave her a dark, hate-filled look, but Rhodey placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Carol rolled her eyes and scoffed before continuing. “Right- this is going nowhere,” she sighed arrogantly, turning to leave.
“Where are you going?” Natasha asked callously.
“To kill Thanos,” It wasn’t a request and it wasn’t a suggestion. It was a statement, a definitive, unarguable fact. It was also the end of Natasha’s patience with this cocky new girl.
Natasha’s eyes grew even more infuriated and barely a second passed before there was a knife embedded an inch or two in the wall just beside Carol. Her cocky eyes went wide and her smile evaporated. She turned with a jump to see Natasha with her arm extended and a holster on her olive catsuit empty.
“Look, I know you’re new here,” Natasha seethed, her chest heaving with a dark, deep, bubbling anger. Her green eyes were firing daggers from under her short, blonde hair. “But we do this shit as a team. So if you wanna do right by Fury and be an Avenger, you’re gonna have to work with us,”She growled, turning back to the table. “Do we have any idea where… He is?”
“When Thanos was turning me into… this,” Nebula sighed, looking at her visibly false arm in slight disgust, “He spoke of where he wanted to go. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I’d ask ‘where?’, and he always said ‘The Garden’,”
Rocket swallowed when Nebula finished- this blonde-haired Earth girl was just as feisty and scary as Gamora and he definitely didn’t want to waste her time- and quickly told, “Well, when Thanos snapped, it emitted a ridiculously huge cosmic-scale radiation wave like nothin’ the universe had ever seen- until two days ago when another one came from... this planet,” From the center of the table emerged a hologram of a serene grassy planet, and suddenly a multi-coloured aura- purple, blue, red, orange, green and yellow intermixed with each other- ruptured from the planet’s surface.
“Thanos is there,” Nebula promised.
Natasha felt her blood heat up again at the thought of finding Thanos.
“Then let’s kill the fucker.” Natasha said evenly. She moved towards the exit of the room, Carol stepping away in a subtle fear of Natasha. The Black Widow gave her a warning look and stole her knife from the wall, holding it invertedly in a clear warning. She exited without a word, Bruce Banner following her. Carol gave him an odd ‘You know you’ll die, right?’ look but didn’t say anything. He followed his now-blonde past lover until they reached her room, where she planned to grab more gear, though she stopped at her door.
“Leave me alone, Bruce,” She whispered. Her previous anger was nowhere in her voice and the breaking had returned. She sounded not only sad, but she sounded disingenuous. She bowed her head and Bruce could swear he saw the glisten of a tear fall from Natasha’s face.
“Well, given the circumstances, an-and what happened last time, I think that would be… the worst idea ever,” He played with the long sleeve of his shirt and Natasha gave a trembling smile over her shoulder.She suddenly rushed over and wrapped her arms around.
“I missed you, Bruce,”
Present
Five years. Over five years, they had rebuilt. They had rebuilt the Avengers the vest they could, yes, but they had rebuilt. Rebuilt their love that had been splintered when Hulk fled Earth in a Quinjet, for flawed but- eventually- understandable reasons.
Bruce loved Natasha. Hulk also loved Natasha, but whenever Hulk was around, Natasha only seemed to get hurt. On the Helicarrier before the beast had fallen for the redhead, he had almost killed her. In the Battle of New York, she had blood dripping down her face. On almost every Code Green raiding party, Natasha ended up with a bruise, cut, fracture or limp. And, during Sokovia, she had come within inches of Ultron’s final hail of bullets. Hulk realized when he threw Ultron out of that jet… He was hurting Natasha more than anything else was.
She didn’t love Hulk. She loved Banner, and Hulk only hurt her. So, he had taken himself away, forgetting Bruce even existed. Then, on Sakaar, he finally found what he wanted; People who loved him. A girl who loved him, truly. But, then Thanos happened, and he had… Thanos had beaten Hulk, and that was enough. If Hulk couldn’t beat something his size, was he worth anything? No, and he certainly wasn’t willing to go through another defeat or hurt more people in the middle of New York City just because Stark wanted him to.
But then… She came back. It had been spontaneous, Bruce had another nightmare and his body just couldn't cope with the stress properly. It was then he saw her. Her hair was different- light blonde now- but her face… It was Widow, and she was there. There for Banner, yes, but she had… She had been there for him, too. It had been so much, too much, and Hulk was… Scared. Scared he would hurt her again.
Bruce shook off the memories and looked to Natasha’s face. Her almond face was still decorated with a light smile, her olive-tinted eyes were hidden under her sunglasses, which were glimmering as they reflected the water before her. Her lips were full and a shiny pink. Her skin was still pristine and unblemished, if an unnoticeably slight bit darkened from the sun. Her shoulder length hair, returned to its pristine, vibrant fire-red, fell teasingly over her face, framing it better than any piece of art he’d ever seen.
“Oh, saw a piece-of-art broad tanning on the waterfront, thought I’d come steal her heart,” He teased. They often did this, though neither knew particularly why. It was just a special kind of intimate fun to tease each other like this.
“Really? Handsome man like y’rself,” She drawled, “Must’a been some broad,” Bruce smiled inwardly as Natasha’s smile lifted. Her pale cheeks reddened ever so at the compliment, even though she had grown used to getting them from her lover over the last five years.
“Oh, she is. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” Natasha pulled herself up and sat on her knees before she moved closer to her lover. Her smile looked more intimate as she removed her sunglasses and studied her lover’s tanned face.
“What’s so beautiful,” She asked, though it was barely a question. Her words were closer to short breaths. Bruce swallowed as he felt his shorts shift with the beginning brush of an erection, but he kept up his facade.
“Well, lot’s ‘a stuff, doll,” Natasha sighed and pulled on her bottom lip with her teeth at the pet name. “She’s a fiery redhead with a personality to match,” He began, watching Natasha’s body carefully. Her chest rose and fell evenly, though every inhale pushed her plump, constrained breasts toward him, almost in offering. Her chest was tinged slightly red, but whether that was from the sun or from something else he didn’t know.
“She’s got the best eyes, like grass mixed with an aged olive branch. They’re like… A forest, like they’re all nature as to offer,” He whispered, Natasha staring so lovingly with those forest eyes. She smiled curtly and moved closer, putting her small hand on his. It was so much larger, and he felt so warm to her touch. Natasha paid careful attention as a water droplet rolled into the thick, curly greying foliage on Bruce’s chest, having to put specific focus so she didn’t tangle her fingers in it. But with all her focus, Natasha still couldn’t help herself. She moved herself even closer and moved the hand not occupied onto Bruce’s chest.
She laced her fingers into the deep, thick brush as Bruce breathed easy. The hair was still wet to her touch and it felt so soft on her fingertips. But the sudden sensitivity running through her arm flowered through to the rest of her body. Natasha sighed shakily as she felt her entire body come to her true and complete awareness- and her body was airing a clear signal that caused a hitch in her breath;
Natasha’s bladder felt quite heavy and full. The redhead’s knees caved towards each other slightly when the feeling, although not too terribly needing, pulsed against her flesh and against the lower curve of her stomach. Bruce smiled at her warmly, but his smile turned concerned when Natasha’s brow creased ever so in worry.
“Hey’s, what’s wrong?” He asked, though Natasha didn’t register the question. Blood was beginning to rush through her ears at a firehose pressure and it was clouding her judgement like the blackest of fog. She knew she needed to go to the bathroom, but the sheen on Bruce’s body was causing a shudder down her spine that was stronger than the one rushing up it from her bladder’s fullness. Her primal mind’s logical processes weren’t registering in her more recognizable thoughts anymore. The only thing that was registering was… Natasha felt like she was watching herself, not at all in control of her actions as she dove against her lover’s lips.
This was wrong. She had to go, she knew, but she couldn't pull herself away. Natasha was a great spy, very likely the best in the world, and she knew how to keep secrets. One that she had held particularly close to her chest- among military, governmental, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avengers secrets. She had quite a few... unorthodox sexual interests, many of which would be horrifying should anyone with malicious intent was ever able to find out. Natasha had confided almost all of her interests with her lover, and he thought nothing less of her for it. But, one was certainly more taboo than the others- maybe, sometimes it was definitely contested- and it was one she didn't mean to share yet, and certainly not without a foolproof plan. She...
Bruce groaned in surprise and had to put a hand behind him to stop from falling back in the water. Natasha’s lips latched onto his and pried them open with next to no effort. She moaned and brought her hands to Bruce’s back and pulled him down onto her, her own back against her towel again. Bruce put his hands beside Natasha’s shoulders, but he didn’t pull away from her lips. Natasha felt her system say ‘fuck it’ as she moved her mouth down from Bruce’s mouth and onto Bruce’s jawline, licking her teeth as the gamma-warmed flesh, gently stubbled flesh. Bruce pulled away slightly and Natasha relented, breathing a little harder from the sudden heat between them.
“Nat… What, what’s wrong?” He asked, his breathing in pace with hers. Natasha laughed sultrily and ran her slightly trembling hands down Bruce’s lean, muscularly taut chest. She indeed tangled her thin, skilled fingers into the thick, luscious hair once more and tugged on it lightly, reveling at the sheen in the light.
“It’s not fair to tease me with this, Bruce, you know what it does to me,” She whispered haughtily, her foresty eyes lidded with a public-inhibited love. Bruce beathed a laugh and traced his redheaded lover’s bare left shoulder, ghosting the shadows of her toned bicep with his index finger. Natasha, feeling a resurgence of her need, crossed her strong, slender legs inconspicuously- though, as they were between his own, Bruce felt the action against his own thigh.
“Are you okay?” He whispered. Natasha bit her bottom lip before she rose to her lover’s ear. Her words were breathy and hot on his skin.
“I have to… go, Bruce, but I… don’t want to…” She swallowed in a slight nervousness- she knew that if someone she was on top of admitted they needed to pee but had no intention to leave, she would be… Well, she didn’t really know how she would react. She knew she should have felt disgusted with herself, but…
“You mean…” Bruce mumbled, bringing Natasha from her trance. He looked down to Natasha’s belly and brought a hand down to stroke her soft, smooth side, toying with the band of her swimsuit. Bruce smiled at the notion and looked back up to his redheaded girlfriend’s deep green eyes. The look- it was a look of sensual playfulness and aroused curiosity, something not at all foreign to either of them- warded forward the logical thought of ‘Go to the bathroom, it’s getting intense,’. Natasha gasped a breath subtly and tightened her legs further. Her mind began sobering- not sobering exactly, she could still feel the warmth and illogical attitudes in her mind, but the logical ones overcame- and she gasped again. “Well, then Nat, I never expected…”
Natasha’s mouth suddenly went dry when another wave of need crashed over her body, more intense than the last- so intense that it stole her breath right from her dried throat. She tightened her legs somehow more and her grip of Bruce’s chest grew stiffer as well. Bruce caressed her side again at the sudden tension racking through her before she choked out,
“I-I should go…”
“Why? You weren’t so inclined a minute before,” Bruce lulled, moving his hand over Natasha’s belly. The surface was soft and warm, but as he moved down towards the front of her bathing suit, the softness suddenly turned somewhat hard right above the band of her red swimsuit. Her bladder was filled and swollen and they both knew it wouldn’t be long.
“I… I didn’t…” Natasha felt no words come forward, and she was unsure of what words she should have even said. “I… I have to pee, Bruce,” She admitted again, the mere mention enough to bring a pang of fullness. Her legs shook from their crossed tension and she bit her bottom lip as she looked away from her lover’s eyes. She never imagined herself in such a vulnerable circumstance, nor did she think it would be so… thrilling. Her heart was beating quite a bit faster than normal, her skin was ablaze- the sun had next to no part in that- and the pressure on her organs was, while uncomfortable and bordering on mildly painful, was beginning to feel… nice- or the thought of release was.
“I know, but you kind of did this to yourself, Nat,” Bruce purred as he rolled off and sat beside her on her left, his right hand still on her lower belly. He used his other hand to keep himself upright as he leaned back. Natasha stayed on her back and kept her legs tight together as her lover rubbed her throbbing bladder. Natasha breathed heavily and began bouncing her legs with need as she sucked her lips in. “Oh, it’s getting bad, huh?” He teased.
Natasha felt oddly playful at Bruce’s teasing voice. She nodded with a whimper, ghosting her hand over his with a want to hold herself that she suppressed for obvious reasons. She hissed in need and kept bouncing.
“Mm-hm,” She suddenly recoiled when her bladder jabbed her again, though this jab was more powerful and painful than any previous. Natasha sat up and subconsciously moved her hand over her clothed opening, whimpering in sudden need. Bruce smirked at his girlfriend’s actions and leaned closer to her.
“There are other people here, Nat,” He moved his hand to her wrist and tugged her hand out of her crotch. Her thighs immediately slammed together to take its place and she breathed steady a few times to regain her breath.
“It’s starting to hurt,” Natasha commented, rocking herself back and forth ever so slightly. She knew this was turning into a game, but the growing need below her stomach was anything but. From here, she had three options; She could stop her game and go to the bathroom, she could snake her way into the pool- however gross that was- or she could…
“Well, maybe you should go then, doll,” The pet name brung another sprout of red to her face as she smiled painfully, and the most logical option seemed to be the best for her current situation. Natasha moved to stand, but she was unable to when Bruce placed a hand on her tummy. She gave a look that read, ‘What the hell?’ Bruce returned a sly smile that could only be deciphered as one thing.
‘I didn’t mean ‘go’.’
“Bruce, I can’t… I,” She paused to cross her legs and focus on holding. Her need was getting worse, and now she knew that it was now-or-never. “Bruce, if I don’t go, I’m…” Natasha paused, partly from another painful pulse and partly from embarrassment. She knew that she had walked herself into a corner with this. She rocked herself back and forth, and she moved her foot against her crotch. She began grinding herself against her heel to hold herself, but she also began growing hot at the nearly bare contact. “If I don’t go…” She whimpered uncharacteristically weakly, though the pain in her lower abdomen was far enough to justify it. “I’m gonna… Oh God,” She pressed her cheek to her lover’s shoulder and her heel as hard into her pulsing core as her body would allow, grinding herself carelessly in desperation. She panted quietly and sighed in need. “I'm gonna pee myself,” She breathed. The way she said the arousing phrase was less of a continuation and more of a sudden embarrassed promise. No longer was it now-or-never, no longer was it an avoidable possibility...
It was beginning to become an inevitability.
Bruce smiled and licked his top teeth under his lips when Natasha gasped against his shoulder. Her hand, unable to go between her legs like her body needed, constantly flexed and relaxed on her thigh as her heel did its best to fill its place. The redhead’s hips were rocking back and forth and the barest moan escaped her mouth when her heel caused her swimsuit to brush her budding clitoris.
Natasha’s mind was beginning to cloud again. She knew she needed to pee and she knew it would feel so good and that having an accident right here was inevitable, but she also knew that she was horny now, but one thing she didn’t know what she wanted first- did she want to pee herself to help her cum, or did she want to cum to help her pee herself? Either way, her reservations of saving her swimsuit were a faint, tattered memory, if they had even been there in the first place.
“You will, will you?” He purred, sending a warm shock of arousal up her back. Similarly to before, the warmth was countered by a shiver- a literal shiver- of an electric jolt from her bladder as it once again aired its needs. Natasha, mindlessly horny and desperate to pee, could only nod frantically.
It was then that the first leak jetted from her urethra. It was small, but when the warmth rolled down her warmed, flowering lips and down the gentle curve of her ass, Natasha squealed in a gasp and forced her heel inwards, apathetic to the wetness that soaked onto her foot. She curled inwards and tried to steady her breathing, but the hand that was fidgeting on her thigh shot between her legs, now not caring for anyone around. Her bladder was so full it was pounding against her belly, her stomach, her vagina. It was aching and was set to burst, and her urethra and pelvic muscles were burning with strain from holding back her flood. It hurt so bad, but the pressure on her and in her was so… pleasurable, and just the thought of more release was
“Oh god, I-I leaked,” Natasha admitted quickly, gripping her pussy as tight as possible. She kept grinding into her wet heel and gripped herself furiously, even though she wanted nothing more than to just go. Bruce smirked at her words and gripped her side. His voice was barely a sultry whisper as he spoke in her ear,
“You should just let go, Nat, before it gets more painful,” Natasha breathed a shaky laugh and nodded quickly, now only wanting to relieve the pressing pressure so she could deal with her other pressing matter. The suggestion was more like permission to her. Immediately, she began doing her best to relax her tense body. But, the more she tried to relax, the more her body only grew more contained and stressed. She had the bright idea to push, but that caused a burning stab to her belly. She hissed in surprise more than pain. She couldn’t pee, even when she tried.
“I can’t, Bruce,”
“What d’you mean?” He asked, tracing her hip.
“I can’t- My body won’t…” Natasha whined pitifully, another painful roll into her bladder bringing bleary tears to her eyes. Bruce’s hand moved from her hip to her lower tummy, caressing the hard lump slightly distending from her belly. The caresses felt good, but they soon only served to hurt her bladder more. “It won’t…” She panted, desperation lacing her voice. “It won’t come out, oh god…” Bruce moved the hand not caressing Natasha’s overfilled bladder behind them and suddenly grabbed something before bringing her red towel forth. He rolled it up into a ball and motioned for her to spread her legs. She did without second thought, though a small spurt escaped her, with a small shiny spot appearing briefly on her hot clothed pussy. Natasha tried to capitalize on the leak and push to rest out, but it was to no avail as more stabbing pain wracked through her belly.
Bruce put the towel between her legs and right against her opening, and as he retracted his hand he made sure to brush a swollen nub under the subtly wetted fabric. Natasha bit her lip and breathed hard in her best attempt not to moan, but not only was Bruce’s hand still on her thigh but the sun-warmed towel against her throbbing, tired bladder was so alluring, despite the fact that the release she needed so much was beyond her.
“Bruce, I still can’t…” Her voice was growing desperate and sad, the pressure and stabbing in her lower abdomen was too much now. During her whole life, her pain tolerance had grown to almost inhuman levels but this pain was so unique and so goddamn bad. She felt like soon, tears would come to her eyes if she held on any longer. But her bladder absolutely refused to let go where she was. She knew that if she stood up, she would explode, but then everyone would see her.
Another pang of overfilled warning smacked her bladder before Natasha was suddenly sucked into a kiss. Bruce’s lips worked hers open with ease, and the surprise of the kiss caused a hot spurt, larger than the previous to trickle down the warm inner part of her thighs, though her bladder still painfully refused to fully surrender. Natasha kept grinding herself against her heel and her towel desperately. Her hips were rocking back and forth on the towel beneath her, and she had to do everything in her power not to reach down her swimsuit. But, adversely, the pressure in her bladder was so painful and intense that she was worried it was going to have serious and dangerous effects.
“Please,” She begged- not her lover, but the universe- to just let her wet herself. Bruce kissed Natasha deeper and rested his hand in the small of her back and began caressing her, trying to tempt her body into releasing its heavy burden. Natasha’s entrance was aching and in pain as a seemingly endless flood was restricted, and her muscles were bound to the burst. The stroking on her toned back was so nice, but the tension in her body made it feel so rigid, so uncomfortably rigid. Her entrance was furiously grinding against the towel and her lips were ravenously gripping whatever part of Bruce they could reach. Tears were now indeed budding in the corners of her eyes as the redhead pushed herself as far into her kiss as she was allowed by basic physics.
Then, Bruce’s deft fingers sent a sudden, paralyzing shock up and down Natasha’s skilled, bendy spine.
It began slowly, and painfully. Like a string of fire, a small stream of urine began rolling down the tender, sore inside of Natasha’s creamy thighs, soaking into the towel beneath her. Natasha moaned against her lover’s mouth and pressed herself further against him. Her legs began quaking slightly around her balled-up towel as her vagina slowly collapsed. Between them grew the slightest psshh as urine darkened the towel. Natasha gasped and sobbed in a turmoiled combination of pleasure and burning pain on occasion as the trickle slowly grew, the sound growing louder in parallel. Natasha felt her shoulders and her back shudder uncontrollably when her bladder truly did collapse.
She moaned without control as the slight hissing from her weakened, trembling pussy turned into a forceful gushing. The small dark stain on the red towel and the slight golden shimmer along Natasha’s thighs both turned drastic- the darkness flowed rapidly, shimmering from the blasting pressure as the liquid bubbled up around Natasha’s crotch, slowly absorbing into the towel.
She was doing it. It was finally happening. Natasha breathed deeply as her thighs quivered from the violent hissing. She was peeing herself. Finally. And Natasha couldn’t help but slump against her lover as a heavy orgasm crawled ever closer, focusing only on grinding her hips. All the pain that had filled her body was now evacuating with her pee. She breathed raggedly and impossibly deeply as she wet herself into the towel, her legs unresponsive as he hips moved back and forth. The pressure, the pressing pain and the torturous heat was fleeing her body and against her swimsuit and the friction she felt, the now wet, sopping towel rubbing against her hot, pulsating pussy, stole another small moan from her lips. Her vagina’s lips were flowered open against her red swimsuit, and the feeling of rough fabric through the wet material of her swimsuit was stimulating her lusty mind so much.
So much her thoughts were irrational.
Still peeing herself, Natasha used her hand to move her swimsuit out of the way- an odd spshkcc accentuating the movement. She placed her crotch back against the towel, and the sudden feeling of the hot, damp prickliness, in combination with the still rushing liquid, pushed a moan from Natasha’s mouth that she had to bite down on Bruce’s shoulder to muffle it. She wildly rubbed herself back and forth, her lips frictioning with the rough material as jetting urine sprayed further into it.
At this point, the towel was beginning to oversaturate. A small, darkish puddle of yellow liquid began seeping out on the sun-heated concrete. It was growing just a bit slower than her flow. Natasha’s chest heaved erratically before she suddenly sighed with a heavy shudder in her breath. Her legs stopped rutting against the soaked towel and her stream sputtered somewhat, though it still continued to leak from her exposed opening. She felt her legs go slightly numb and her core to grow even more weak as it spasmed in pleasure.
Natasha sighed heavily and fell truly limp against her lover as her legs trembled and ceased their moving. As she peed, she felt her swimsuit fall back over her pussy, the hot liquid pushing back against her sensitive lips once more. Unrestrained, she moaned weakly. Her chest had turned a subtle shade of reddish-pink from her orgasm, and the towel was beyond soaked. Natasha looked down to see a dark stain growing on the concrete below her from underneath her red, dark towel. She did her best to stop her peeing, but her weakened muscles could only slightly stem the flow with a cry of denial. So, the Black Widow sat in relieved, orgasmic silence as her bladder slowly drained, the towel little more than a formality as a dark puddle marked the concrete around her.
Finally, her flow trickled against her swimsuit and her vagina for a few moments before Natasha finally finished wetting herself. Her breathing was still deep, a thick blush was still on her chest and her crotch was warm and damp. Natasha rubbed her pussy once more on the rough, wetted towel- sending a sensitive shiver up her back-before running a hand up her lover’s chest. She swallowed a small anxiety- she had just pissed herself for almost three minutes- before she looked to Bruce's eyes.His eyes were warm and there was a smile on his face, though it was small and dark. Natasha breathed in relief and a newfound emptiness.
“Better?” Bruce asked, rubbing the small of Natasha’s back as her breath came back to her.Natasha nodded in a sigh and looked down to her soaked clothing. A slight embarrassment came to her, but she smiled in pleasure and emptiness.
“Yes,” she replied hoarsely. Natasha leaned her head against Bruce’s chest, her breath finally taming to a general level. She sighed shakily and moved into a sitting position, taking her hands away from her lover. “I-I should… I should clean up,” she said, moving off of her drenched towel.
Bruce smiled and moved before she did. He unballed the towel and laid it out over the large puddle, even though it was barely too broad to cover it fully.
“That should dry in a couple minutes,” He brought Natasha up into a gentle hug, one she surrendered herself to entirely. She felt so satisfied and her legs were only barely keeping her steady. She did her best to maneuver her head and peck Bruce’s stubbly cheek, whispering a soft,
“What’d you think?” It was an odd question with, seemingly, a simple answer. She had just wet herself on a towel, not to mention she had orgasmed from it too. Any normal person would be disgusted, but the look on Bruce’s face wasn’t disgust nor disappointment. It was a look of curiosity and of temptation. Bruce pressed his body against Natasha’s and held her close.
“I think it was a test of your… Kinks, and I definitely think we can… Do something with it. Work it in with the others, definitely,” He whispered against her cheek as he brought her even closer. She smiled against his clavicle.
“It’s not gross?” She asked, a slightly confused tone to her voice. Sure, it wasn’t unheard of to have the same fetish as a lover, but what were the chances.
“Not at all. We all have our fetishes, Nat,”
“Even you?”
“Yeah, I have one,”
“And you never thought to tell me?” She reprimanded jokingly.
“You’re no better, apparently,” He admitted.
“What is it?” Bruce moved against her ear and whispered it to her, and she couldn’t control her face running hot at his words. “Really? You?” She asked, her eyes slightly wider than before.
“I could say the same thing for you. The world’s greatest spy, an Avenger and my girlfriend… Likes to pee her pants,” Natasha felt a red creep onto her neck at the mention of the words, but she couldn’t help the feeling that threaded through her whenever she did… that.
“I guess they can go hand-in-hand,” She whispered, looking down to her chest. She suddenly couldn’t help but gasp when her feet were swept off the ground. Bruce held her in his arms, hers wrapped around his neck as he smiled against her lips.
“They can, and I think they will. But for now, I think you need to rinse off,” He whispered. Natasha’s face suddenly went wide as she noticed them at the edge of the pool’s water.
“No, Bruce! Wait-” He threw her in, her last action a gasp of a breath in before following her with a dive. Under the water he rubbed against her belly and took a hold on her from behind.
“I love you, my kinky spider.” He kissed her throat when they breached the surface, creating a gasp of pleasure from the redhead. She smiled and replied, a low tone in her voice,
“I love you too, my scientist."
Sometimes, the best things that can be created are created through second chances, and second chances they had since they’d met each other. Now, all they had was time, and time was not to be wasted...
Well then, @Batman007, there's another request done. Like I said, I'm trying to take these pieces easier as to not burn out, and I'm decently pleased with this one. Unfortunately, the first 'Natasha' prompt involved her actually being in charge of her accident, so if another is requested- or I do it after I finish the requests- I want to make it a true accident. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed my characterization of Natasha, and I hope that I did the MCU's best woman right. With that said, if you have a character you want a piece for, a situation for a piece- or even both- let me know and I'll add it to the queue. Right now, there are two requests that I have to do, so watch out for those. Since the 'wetters' weren't specified, I'll be using them to further complete the character checklist so we can get to the Line-Up. Right now, we're at 10/23, soon to be 12/23. But, feel free to request any character from the list above or any you think I missed, even if they already have a piece for them. In case you're curious;
Pepper Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Lady Sif, Peggy Carter, Gamora, Wanda Maximoff, Shuri, Mary Jane Watson, Laura Kinney and Hela (she actually has two)
All have their required pieces. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed this piece, and expect Wanda causing some poor soul's accident next.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Hope Van Dyne
Avengers Tower, Wanda and Vision’s Bedroom
“So, you bully them without being mean?” Wanda asked, slightly confused by the three teens before her. Peter Parker- Spider-Man- Shuri, Wakandan-Jabari Queen, Pietro Maximoff, her brother returned from the dead and Mary Jane Watson, a remarkable reporter for someone her age, and Peter’s girlfriend to boot. They had all just explained pranks to the Sokovian girl, who was having a hard time truly grasping the concept. Pietro had his head in his hands as he sighed at his sister’s lack of knowledge about something he considered the best pastime ever.
“Uhm,” Peter began, his hand around the curvy waist of his lover. “Well, not really, but kindah,” Wanda rested her chin in her hands and waited for the teen patiently. “It’s all for fun, that’s the important part,” Peter finished, MJ and Shuri nodding. Pietro looked up to his sister with the slightest glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“For fun? Well, how can I… How can I help?” Wanda asked, perking up with a small, wary smile. Shuri, Peter, Pietro and Mary Jane shared a devious look.
Wanda and Pietro stayed out of view as Steve Rogers, leader of the Avengers, walked into a common room of the tower with a newspaper in one hand, a mug of- presumably- coffee in the other. He sat down on a loveseat and crossed his legs, resting his right ankle on his left knee. He sipped his coffee and shook the newspaper, beginning to read. Peter nudged Wanda’s side and nodded. The Sokovian sister nodded back shyly and sent out a wisp of her scarlet powers, making sure they were faint enough that even Steve wouldn't notice. They trickled through the air until they swirled around a lamp on a table to the Captain’s right, causing it to flicker for a moment. Steve looked to the lamp in confusion, blinked a few times to ensure he wa sin reality before shaking his head and returning to his reading. A few moments later, Wanda caused another, longer flicker, this time attracting Steve’s attention more intently. He stared at it for a few seconds, waiting for another flicker. Roughly fifteen seconds later, the Captain warily returned to his paper, occasionally glancing to the lamp, as if expecting it to blink.
Wanda then trickled her magic throughout the room, taking hold of all the lights. She smiled as Steve settled more comfortably into the seat. She then flared her powers, causing the entire room to darken for a moment. Steve shot up from his seat and took a defensive stance, wary of the lights and any danger it may be the origin of.
“Bucky!” Steve stood, looking to the lights. A few seconds later, Rogers’ lover Bucky came into the room, his false arms tense with the sudden anxiety of Steve summoning him. “What happened?”
“The lights are acting up,” Steve said, though his tone of voice made it sound more dramatic than he intended. Bucky clearly felt that way as well as he relaxed and chuckled as he asked,
“The lights?”
“I know how it sounds, Buck, but they’re-” To capitalize on the Captain’s words, Wanda sent a strong surge through the lights which caused both men to take defensive stances again. Bucky entered the room and took his stance near Steve, “- see? I’m not crazy,” Wanda felt an unnaturally rebellious surge of adrenaline rush through her, and she subconsciously knew she might be going too far already.
“Maybe it’s just the powerlines,” Bucky offered unconvincingly, despite his fists curled in hard balls. Steve scoffed with wariness. Both of them knew it couldn’t have been the power lines as they had been perfected by Tony Stark. And with his AI F.R.I.D.A.Y., mistakes were rare- though they did happen. That, and this was the first time something of this nature had ever happened in the room.
“Don’t say that to Tony,” Steve mumbled. Wanda was surely getting a little bit ahead of herself as she sent a thick surge through the lines. The bulbs glowed brightly with otherworldly hums and buzzes for a few seconds before the filaments within vehemently cracked and the room was shoved into dark, the only light entering being the subtle natural light from the windows. Steve and Bucky turned back-to-back, taking readied stances. Pietro reacted to the sudden dark with a curse under his breath before he took Wanda’s arm, breaking her trance.
“Oh shit, shit-shit-shit-shit come on,” Wanda, Shuri and MJ, who were waiting just nearby, giggled as the two men were left in the dark. There was a certain rush pulsing through Wanda’s veins, full of playfulness and exuberance. She knew, similarly to her fetish... She needed to do that again.
“Who’s next?” Before Pietro could respond, MJ suddenly whispered with a broad smile and a giggle as they came to a stop.
Wanda’s smile was wide and there was an almost crazed look in her eyes as Scott flipped through a small handbook, the lithe man blissfully unaware of the four young Avengers waiting around a nearby corner. He breathed a casual laugh at a line in the book,
They had just returned from pranking Piotr Rasputin and Christina Catastrophie, or Colossus and Angel Dust, and before them Tony and Rhodey- Iron Man and War Machine- but Pietro had been whisked away by Thor and Loki afterwards. Wanda was definitely getting out of hand, but she was having far, far too much fun to just quit.
Shuri spoke up, talking almost like it was a battle plan rather than a simple prank. “The Wasp should be arriving anytime soon, and then we can do with the light show-” Wanda interrupted the other girl with a coy and ready smile.
“No… We have to change it up, make it... more.” She smiled with her teeth barely visible through the split in her smooth lips as Hope walked in, a promiscuous magazine that could be easily identified as one of Carol's in her hands- as judging by the cover with a large nude V-shaped man on the cover, save for a small towel wrapped around the model’s teasing hip bones- and her own distracting hips, covered in but a loose mid-thigh black dress, catching Scott’s attention right away. He smiled at her and she him, though with her tongue against her top gums in a heavily suggestive smile as she flashed him one of the female pages of her filthy magazine. The tanned, stubbled flesh that made up Scott's cheeks quickly took on an ever-so red hue and Hope smiled dirtily, obviously suggesting they try something new- though that list was growing shorter and shorter as weeks passed. Wanda threaded her powers through the air and wrapped around Hope's magazine before pulling it just hard enough to send it flying opposite of Scott and towards the wall the teens were hiding around. It made a heavy, noisy fluttering as it hit the ground and Hope, believing it to be just her and her lover, let out an uncharacteristic squeak of surprise and jumped back just a bit. The teens giggled quietly at the usually stoic and badass woman making such a cute noise. Shuri, Peter and MJ, believing the stunt to be over, moved away quickly and ushered Wanda to follow them to their next prank site, although she had a little more in store.
Hope and Scott traded looks before the slender woman went to retrieve her book. Unexpectedly, instead of kneeling and keeping herself proper, Hope bent over at the waist, flashing her lover with her plump ass for but a moment. Scott gasped subtly in surprise as a smile grew, but it was then that Wanda latched her powers into Hope's mind.
The woman’s hazel-olive eyes swirled with a dark scarlet energy and a flood of memories, knowledge and secrets tried to wash through Wanda’s mind, but she evaded them as she was only looking to do one thing.
Hope, under Wanda’s brief control, spread her robust legs wider apart and bent down further, showing all she had to offer under the teasingly short black dress. Scott's face fell into an almost drunkenly admiring stare as Wanda released Hope's mind. The scarlet twisted out of Hope's eyes and it took them both a second to come to, Hope from the mind control and Wanda from a sudden headache.
Hope stood up, her hands clasped tight around the magazine as she realized a few seconds weren’t accounted for. She quickly twirled around to her lover- her skirt rising with her movements to flash the very bottom curve of her meaty pussy- to alert Scott of her missed time, but she was entranced and almost silent- apart from a sharp gasp- when she saw his erection hiding under his pants, swallowing her sudden-onset horniness when it pulsated under her gaze. A single thought shot through her mind and she was a slave to it entirely. She quickly pinched the fabric of her dress between her perky breasts, as if by instinct, and pulled the neckline down before bending forward to allow her apparently braless boobs to sway teasingly before her lover, the lightly reddened areolas smooth and the nipples soft as she developed a coy smile.
Apparently Scott had enough teasing as he rose, throwing his book on the couch haphazardly.
Hope righted her stance with a smile as she beckoned her lover closer with a run of her tongue over her top row of teeth. Scott took a firm grip on Hope’s hips and brought her to the wall very near Wanda’s spot, pinning the Wasp against the wall. Almost immediately they clashed mouths and Hope was squeezing Scott’s chest with her rake-like nails.
Wanda’s eyes went wide as she heard Hope moan. She also felt her core warm at the sound of Scott’s moan as he ran his hand under Hope’s dress and along the curve of her round, plump butt. She was crouched down low to hide, but it wasn’t low enough to completely see up the flowy black abyss of the Wasp’s dress.
Hope suddenly brought her right leg up and hooked it around Scott’s hip, now standing on her right foot’s tip-toe. Scott moved his hands to cup his lover’s ass and lifted her up, prompting her to wrap her other leg around him. Hope moved her hands to her shoulders and brought the straps of her dress down before moving her arms back through them. The straps fell against her clothed ribs and she almost couldn’t wait to tug the top over her breasts. Her nipples were now half-erect peaks and Scott set Hope back down on her feet, moving his mouth to her left nipple and letting her slender arms wrap around his neck.
Uncensored, a rapturous moan burst from the Wasp’s lips, and the moan sent a devilish idea through Wanda’s system. She reached out with her powers and hooked them on the hem of Hope’s dress. If Wanda’s own arousal- morals weren’t a concern right now, she was purely focused on seeing how intense she could get her teammates- was any indication Scott would plunge directly into his lover, with a scream of celebration erupting from the receiver.
Wanda readied her power and yanked Hope’s dress down. The edges fluttered uselessly, but Hope gasped before moaning slowly. Wanda looked to the scene before her before Hope suddenly cried out, her voice frantic under her lust.
“Scott, I’m- Oh, fuhhhck!” She dragged her moan out, arching her head back with another, deeper and more guttural moan as her lover pulled on her now fully hard nipple with his teeth before Wanda finally realized what was happening.
A stream of slightly yellow pee ran down Hope’s legs, pattering onto her feet and the floor below her. The back of her dress grew somewhat shiny as a rhythmic, wet pattering slapped the floor. Hope was wetting herself, because Wanda’s powers had reached a little too far past Hope’s dress. Or perhaps her lusty mind had pushed her power to Hope’s bladder subconsciously. Regardless of the explanation, Hope was pinned to the wall with pee running down her legs, and what was even more impressive was that Scott showed no sign of stopping.
Hope’s hands made sharp claws around Scott’s biceps as she whimpered, a hisss growing from her hot, dampened pussy. The hot liquid spilled carelessly around the two lovers, forming a puddle both were soon embracing in as Hope’s molten-torrenting pussy sprayed her bladder’s contents onto her dress, onto her legs and all over the floor.
“Scott I- oh god, fuck… I’m pee-” she hissed in pleasure as Scott moved his hand between Hope’s lower lips and created a hellish tkktktktkktkkk as he pistoned two fingers back and forth between the swollen lips. Hope’s words melted into a gasping moan, clearly telling her that he knew and didn’t care that she was pissing so fervently. Wanda sat, entranced by the scene before her- Hope’s moaning, Scott’s surprising dominance and Hope's “accident”, simply affixed. Hope suddenly recoiled violently as Scott’s hand paused and fidgeted violently with her reddened button, the stream of pee resuming its admittedly demonous hkkk despite already beginning to die down. It still splattered deafeningly into the floor, and the more the hellacious noise persisted the brighter Hope’s face became.
“Ohh fu-uh-uck!” Her voice was staggered as she gasped in between, her fading stream flickering perfectly with her words and creating a splaskh-splaskh-splaskh in the puddle beneath the two of them. Scott dove onto Hope’s open jugular as if pulled by instinct and sucked ruthlessly, bravely intent on leaving a dark mark. Hope’s stream trickled down her bare legs continually as Scott made his mark, a large bulge evident in his pants that Wanda was somehow only just noticing.
One thing that was very evident was the dampness in her own panties. The scene was literally real-life porn and fuck, Scott’s secret dominance was reminding her of her own lover, and a sudden ball formed in Wanda’s tummy. She was irrevocably turned on, and she needed to find Vision now. Wanda waited, biding her time as Scott lovingly chewed on Hope’s throat. A scratchy moan erupted from Hope’s lips and Wanda took it as an escape cover. She snaked further around the wall and paid no mind to a splash from under her. It was only when she reached the other side of the hall when she heard another splash, still underneath her despite the distance from Hope’s accident, that made her look to her own legs.
Wanda looked to her own legs and saw a dark mark over her crotch, down her thick, succulent thighs and pooled around her knees, which were rested on the ground. A blush shot to Wanda’s cheeks and her hands futily fell over her crotch with a warm, wet squlctch. Wanda looked around and saw no one, trying to identify the least populated route to her room so she could change with a few people finding out about her accident as possible.
When did she pee her pants? Was is when Hope did? Did triggering Hope’s bladder trigger her own in some way? It didn’t matter, what mattered was finding her lover, her room, or preferably both. She began her way to her room, doing her best to ignore the wet, delicious feeling of her urine-drenched panties rubbing against her beating, overheating, soaked pussy.
Scott and Hope continued their embrace, less than apathetic to the puddle underneath them as they felt each other frantically. Hope had hot rivulets running down and tickling the most sensitive part of her thigh as the flowing pee gently crawled from her needing, throbbing sex.
“Scott! Please, I just…” She begged, her brain short-circuiting from the pleasure. There was so much that should have been registering in her mind. There was a dark, almost painful hickey on her throat that was going to be impossible to hide. Her breasts were out to air and throbbing from need. There was a puddle of molten pee flowing down her slender, fit legs and into a huge puddle! But she didn’t care. She wanted more.
“Hope…” He growled, his hands fondling her breasts in a teasing, incomplete way as his fingers entirely dodged her red, aching nipples. “You had an accident, we should probably clean you up…” Under normal circumstances, Hope would have been mortified, but there was just some… energy in her brain that told her this was good. It didn’t feel like hers but she didn’t give even close to a damn.
“No! I just…. Please fuck me!” She begged, raking her nails over Scott’s clothed chest. Why was his shirt still on? Why wasn’t his hand on her pussy or her tits anymore? Dammit, she was just horny and Scott was so damn close to touching her!
“Tell you what. We get back to your room and we can fuck all we want,” Scott bargained, squeezing Hope’s slender hips. She growled in rough affirmation and began back to her room, but was stopped by Scott as he tried to cover his lover’s burning breasts back up. She swatted his hand away and whispered hoarsely.
“No... I’m not dressing back up. I'm not putting clothes on just to take them off, that's dumb.” It was very final and Scott could only scoff as Hope took off at a brisk pace, her breasts bouncing with her steps and her dress often fluttering up to reveal her thick, well-muscled ass rippling and bouncing parallel. Scott licked his lips and followed, sprinting to make sure no one caught a glimpse of Hope’s exposed tits.
Sometimes a little bit of pushing can be beneficial for everyone involved.
So... It's been just over a month, huh? Well, it's actually been almost two months since @desperation_fan requested Wanda's Psychic Forcing- the next is Emma Frost Psychic Forcing, and I hope my ideas pan out for that one- and I apologize if it was underwhelming after all this time. However, in my own sorry defence, I did say I was gonna take breaks if I felt burnt out an... Hoo boy, did I burn out hard. I got maybe a sentence a day down- if I was lucky- since the Natasha piece. If you want lower effort but higher quantity content, check out my Tumblr under the name nothingleftinlife, I post next to daily on there. Regardless, if you have any requests for characters, situations or both- or Hell, even constructive criticism is more than welcome- leave them for me below if they adhere to the first post's rules. Nevertheless, thank you to all those who stuck around, all those who read, and all those who reply in any way. I hope you have a good day and I hope you can find more consistent content on this blessed platform.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Maria Hill
Particle Of A Moment
S.W.O.R.D. Headquarters
Emma Grace Frost was ashamed, humiliated and absolutely furious, and she was staring at the woman who was at fault from across a desk and through a window.
Maria Hill, supposed head of the Sentient World Observation and Response Division- or, more easily, S.W.O.R.D.- was sorting through the transcripts and recollections of yesterday’s briefing, or so it seemed. She was completely ignorant to Emma’s stare, but the cause for her visit was also unknown to everyone except Emma, as it was also the cause of the White Queen’s shame.
After the briefing yesterday, Emma had to pee. It had been almost two hours long, far longer than any briefing had reason or right to be- so when it finally did end, she was focusing only on not flooding her seat. She had spent the next fifteen minutes painstakingly making her ways through the winding hallways and around the agents, Avengers and any other prodding eyes to spare herself the shame. But it was all for not yesterday, as she couldn’t find a bathroom in time and-
Emma’s blood bit at her veins as it boiled, her mind roiling as it recalled why she was here. Her petite, elegant fingers curled into such tight fists that cracks came from her knuckles. She stared at Hill through the window, barely containing herself. A man, somewhat short with a tall forehead and a single glove on his right hand came in and closed the door to her office.
Maria smiled and spoke inaudibly, rising to meet the man with a firm handshake. They were certainly more than colleagues- though that was only clear to her because Emma was an expert psychologist. The subtle hints in both parties told her much of their story; Maria took her seat again, but her posture was more relaxed and casual than it was previously. They were friends. Maria’s deep-ocean eyes were shining, and her pupils were slightly larger than just a moment ago. Lovers, in fact. Though, a slight falter in Maria’s smile and a glance down to her hands. Les amoureux ne sont plus. But, the open posture of both people suggested that they were both willing to try again.
‘Even after this, cliff-head?’ Emma smirked as Maria returned her eyes to the transcripts. She pulled her legs under her desk and passed her visitor some of the papers, and it was then that Emma saw a clear opening for her plan.
Emma was vindictive when it came to revenge. She had felt such humiliation yesterday, and only something equal or positively worse would do. There were reasons Emma was a remarkable psychologist- mainly years of study and practice. That was the main reason, really, but there was another reason, and it had to do with the disaster that had struck five and a half years ago: April fifteenth, 2018, half the world disappeared. April sixteenth, 2023, half the world reappeared. April twentieth, 2018, there is a spike in acute gamma poisoning all across the world. April twenty-fourth, Emma woke up able to read minds and control people.
Emma was a telepath.
Apparently, she had a rare genetic mutation, damn near undetectable under normal means and when Thanos- the alien titan who had somehow killed half the world- did so, it somehow- all the knowledge and data of the Vanishing was quite hush-hush for some reason- caused a huge gamma radiation wave. People who couldn’t adapt to the gamma got sick or died, but those who could- those with the gene, such as Emma herself- metabolized the radiation. But, in 2023, the radiation had come again. However, because of the previous wave, the gene in Emma’s body had been ready and had absorbed the gamma, metabolizing it yet again. However, the metabolization had taken the form of… Telepathy, apparently.
And Emma wasn’t alone.
All across the globe, people were gaining superpowers and mutations. A high-forehead English lad had developed organic, feathery wings that sprouted from his back. A large Russian man’s skin turned to unbreakable steel. A rough-and-rowdy American mercenary woman- whom Emma had the displeasure of commonly interacting with- had grown incredibly strong and durable. One Canadian man had even grown bones from his knuckles!
Emma shuddered as she imagined sharp bones tearing her skin but quickly refocused her mind- ever since her mutation, Emma’s mind had a tendency to wander, sometimes literally as a nearby agent itched his knuckles uncomfortably- and she didn’t at all give a toss for it.
She wanted, so bad, to know more about Thanos, her mutation or how it came to be, but all the information she wanted was being kept out of her unexpectedly long reach. Emma shook her head out of her thoughts and refocused her cool seafoam eyes on Maria, who was now standing alongside the tall-headed man as another man, this one in an out-of-uniform black trenchcoat, faced his back to Emma, likely giving orders to the two. What, she couldn’t discern, but the man was clearly important as both Maria and her partner’s- All of Emma’s bets were on them getting together if she didn’t avenge herself, she could feel it- were stiff and attentive. The man nodded and moved to exit, his voice reaching Emma as he spoke with the door open,
“And get those transcripts checked, sum’bitches couldn’t’a gotten far,” His voice was deep, baritone, commanding and really damn familiar as a dark skinned, one-eyed man- the man’s left eye was under a pirate-like eyepatch with white veins peeking out from underneath- entered Emma’s line of sight. The collar of his coat was up, giving him the appearance of an old-timey lord. He looked Emma right in the eyes for but a moment before he turned to leave, his hands together at the small of his back. His boots were powerful and echoing, giving his presence such an overwhelming aura of authority Emma felt her stance straighten a little.
She shook off the shiver that shot up her curvaceous body’s delicate spine as her heart rate and temper flared. Maria Hill smiled to her partner unassumingly as they retook their seats from within her office. Emma’s humiliating plan formed in her mind for the millionth time that day and a cold smile spread her lips apart in a devilishly plotting manner. Emma was going to project all of the burning mortification, flooding humiliation (a bit too accurate) and unadulterated shame that she had experienced the day prior onto this woman without her knowledge or forewarning serving it as only a warning to the universe.
You do not cross Emily Grace Frost and walk away alive, let alone unscathed. But, murder wasn’t on her mind today, only death. Death of this woman’s social standing and dignity as an eye-for-an-eye (seemed a theme around this office) revenge for the dignity Emma nearly lost herself.
Emma leaned on a thin wall as casually as she could, fortifying her body as not to collapse when she retracted her telepathic powers. As The White Queen’s hellishly cold glare pierced the window, Maria’s thoughts, emotions and, in honesty, being entered Emma’s mind. Her grip on her own wrists tightened with her shiny nails digging into her gentle, unfettered flesh ever so harder. Sensations, a whole woman’s history, actually, rushed through Emma’s head, causing an almost immediate pain at the base of the Queen’s skull.
Concepts and flashes of romance, love, dignity, pride, joviality and loyalty flooded Emma’s mind as she assimilated Maria’s mind to be more cohesive to her own. Emma’s world faded to dark, surrounded by images and memories of aliens, robots, explosions, soldiers, dust and a cacophony of roars, gunfire, booms and metallic tearing and twanging.
‘Bloody Hell- noisy mind, yours is,’ Emma thought to herself. In the office, Maria whispered a damn near inaudible,
“Noisy mind…” Her partner looked up to her, and Emma heard the voice as if she were in Maria’s place. “What?” The voice was even, calm if a little high in pitch. Maria looked up to her partner, finally allowing Emma a comprehensive view of the man. His head was rather oval-shaped with a high forehead and a far hairline, perhaps caused by age, stress or both. His light brown, glittering eyes radiated warmth and care yet seriousness and a dutiful aura. His ears were somewhat large and his face looked more stern than Emma expected. He had a name tag tucked under the lapel of his taut S.W.O.R.D. uniform, though Emma could only make out ‘-lson’.
But Emma couldn’t care less about what Maria was sensing in the meaning of her sight and took a deep breath, allowing her powers to influence the entirety of Maria’s being. Sensations suddenly shot through Emma’s body; she felt the slightly-too-hard chair underneath her, she felt her arms on the desk before her, she felt papers in her left hand and a pen in the right and she felt her hair tug slightly in a low yet uptight bun.
Emma felt her mind adjust to the new perspective, taking studious and slow breaths to steady herself, though any outsider simply saw a woman in white against a wall with her eyes closed. Her eyes flicked open, now fully inside Maria’s mind, though the woman remained foolishly and blissfully unaware of the invasion. Emma felt Maria laugh as her partner cracked a small joke Emma couldn’t give half a toss about as she filed through Maria’s mind, on a quest for just a few things. First, her nerve center. Emma felt her way through Maria’s head until she found her target.
Emma was meticulous as she replicated the feeling of Maria’s lower half; her pelvis, legs and feet, keeping it constant and unchanging. Maria adjusted how she was seated, but she didn’t notice the slight change in sensation. The White Queen smiled.
Finally, it was about damn time for the execution. Execution of not only her plan but also Maria Hill’s standing.
Emma took a quick liberty in the name of testing and caused a slightly painful twitch in Maria’s thigh, though she kept her replicated feeling flowing into Maria’s head. The brunette didn’t even flinch as her trained eyes flicked over the papers in her hands.
‘Not a damn clue.’
She felt for it, the organ of which her entire plan was dependent on. Emma snaked her powers through Maria’s body, sensing every organ until she dropped below the woman’s stomach. About two-thirds full was Maria’s bladder, tight and ready for The Queen’s revenge.
Emma breathed a deep, careful breath as she prepared herself, as she had to be careful. Too careless a twist of her mind’s wrist and it could be disastrous for Maria, yes, but herself as well and she would not have a repeat of the day previous, come hell or high bloody water. Emma steeled her own mind as she twisted a small valve in Maria’s. Emma, despite the tension that had rested on her neck now spreading to her scalp, kept the feeling of unchanging in Maria’s legs, allowing her plan to fully realize. Emma’s breath stopped flowing, her concentration so many layers deep in Maria’s mind she very nearly forgot her own.
Emma allowed herself a bit of gratification and listened through Maria’s ears- though she had the sudden thought to block out this certain… disaster from the woman’s mind-
Wait, no. Before she truly began, Emma wanted to test again. Call her overcautious and what-have-you, she always preferred… pragmatic. Emma carefully, oh so carefully relaxed Maria’s bladder just a touch, allowing just a barely conscious ghostly leak of urine to spill from between the woman’s legs. Not much, but enough that she surely would have felt it had she control of her legs. Nothing?
Maria stretched her neck, massaging it with one hand, but no. Nothing.
Emma smiled with confidence, her plan finally reinforced with the knowledge that Maria wouldn’t know of her situation. A shiver of excitement went up Emma’s back as the reality that this was happening broke through her mind. She breathed a sigh of preparation…
There was subtle silence before it began. Carefully at first as Emma tested, literally, the waters. There was the gentlest of sss-ing as Emma basked in the sound, finally tying even with her previous tormentor. The sss carefully grew into a hsss, the difference menial but distinguishable enough to attract her partner’s attention. The man looked to the brunette with an odd almost disbelieving glance. Maria was painfully unaware, and had Emma not been concentrating so hard on maintaining her illusion, she would have burst out laughing at the woman’s lack of acknowledgement.
After a few moments of the constant, quiet sound, it was joined by a soft sound, a sound Emma could only describe as a pattering. Still, Maria remained unaware. Her partner’s eyes looked to the papers, though he was clearly in sheer disbelief.
Though he suspected what was happening, his usual curiosity demanded confirmation. With a quick brush of one of the papers, he sent it to the floor. With an equally quick drift of his body, he warranted himself a look under the table. The sight he caught was… Well, it was damn near unbelievable.
Maria Hill was a standup woman. Always the first to act, always the first to follow orders, but also the first to know what orders not to follow. But, what the man saw honestly shocked him, and that wasn’t easy to do. Maria Hill’s legs were spread wide open, and the meeting of her thighs was dark. And shiny. And judging by the way there was a small pool between her legs, how there were discernible streams rushing to the floor and how it was clearly spilling from Maria… The man knew Maria was… Well, she was wetting herself.
The man quickly rose from his investigation with the sheet in hand, doing his absolute best to keep his voice straight and his head level. Maria’s steel-blue eyes looked to her partner with an odd smile.
“Are you okay? Y’look a little… pale,” she commented with a smile, completely and utterly unaware of her accident, which was still ongoing as judged by the constant, soft splashing under her desk. Her partner swallowed thickly and nodded, not daring to speak, as he could sense that whatever he said would be far higher in pitch than usual. “Phil, what’s wrong?”
‘Phil,’ Emma memorized.
Phil said nothing, but his eyes motioned down. Maria scoffed- Phil wasn’t ever this quiet or cryptic- but when Maria indulged her partner and looked down, she nearly had a heart attack, despite being only thirty-eight.
Her crotch was soaked, there was a puddle between her legs and a growing wet mark on the carpeted floor beneath her. Although, much to her panic, she couldn’t feel the wetness, or the warmth. In fact, despite the flooding chair, she tried to move her legs only to find out that she couldn’t.
She couldn’t move her fucking legs.
As the panicked thought rushed through Emma’s own mind, she knew she’d have to relent control soon. Maria had found out, and she had wet herself a fair amount already. Though, before she retreated, Emma made sure to fervently weaken Maria’s bladder and the muscles controlling it, ensuring a full and complete accident. Emma carefully began pulling her mind from Maria’s, hissing as the pain in the back of her head grew even more strenuous.
Maria’s eyes couldn’t be torn away from her flooding crotch, but her legs were tingling now. All of a sudden, Maria shot out of her seat to a right stand, urine spilling down her legs for a split second before she collapsed onto the floor. Phil rose to help her, but the sight he caught was enough to freeze him in his tracks, even if for just a moment.
Maria Hill, one of S.W.O.R.D.’s- and previously, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s- strongest agents, was collapsed on the floor, her eyes wide open with confusion and muted disgust, her mouth agape in shock and shame and her legs shaking with numbness and, as much as she would hate him to point out, what seemed like… relief. But, the most obvious thing was the darkened fabric between the woman’s strong thighs. It was a dark blue, even darker than the uniform usually was, and the fabric in a thinning trickle down to her knees was shiny as the quiet cascade streamed from her vagina created a puddle that was to flower out from under the curve of Maria’s butt.
And flower the puddle did. As the subtle almost-cute-sounding hsss that permeated the room pulled a harsh red shade over Maria’s features, a transparent puddle suddenly began around her, soaking in and dying the carpet from a light grey to a wet, swamp-like darker shade. The woman tried to turn- either to hide her accident from Phil or her face from the shame she felt setting her cheeks ablaze- the carpet squshed with a very soaked squelch, and Maria winced herself into a whole new shade of red, her body shamefully freezing her to the spot.
They both remained still as rock, the small hsss filling almost too much of what space was between them. Phil watched as the flowing, shiny patch on Maria’s crotch leaked out from under her and into the carpet, the wet patch of her urine creeping further from under her as the seconds passed. Maria’s breathing was short and flurrious, almost like she was panicking. Her steely eyes were wide, pupils small and her breath was quick, sharp and rushed. Her legs were trembling, her hands were tight fists, and the rims of her eyes were sparkling with what seemed to be…
The beginnings of tears.
Something that had always somewhat bothered Phil was that Maria never cried. Ever. Everyone cried, even him on occasion, but never Maria. She could shoot a man dead, she could pull glass from her own foot, she could stare death in the face with nothing but iron-spirited bravery and come out viciously on top… But this?
The hsssing that had to have been printed on Phil’s brain stem by now was slowly, too slowly beginning to die. The sheen on Maria’s ever so slowly began to fade, and the puddle carefully ceased to grow. After a few seconds of dull, faint whispers of urine breaching from the woman on the ground, silence overtaking the room. Though, unlike the silence from just a minute ago, this one was horrible. For Phil, it brought the uncomfortable question of, ‘what the fuck do I do?’, which he was toxically unaccustomed to. After twenty-four years working at both S.W.O.R.D. and S.H.I.E.L.D., there was a protocol for every situation- Rogue Hulks, Winter Soldier assaults, Thor and Loki having a weekly sibling spat- and a procedure he could follow to the letter.
But Maria Hill? She was scary enough when she wanted to be. She could step on almost any toes she wanted to and manage to get an apology from them, but when she was on the ground, in a puddle of urine on the verge of tears? There was no protocol. No procedure. Hell, there probably wasn’t even a universe where he came out of this room with all of his remaining limbs and body parts intact.
His throat was suddenly dry and painted with damp cotton, like he had tried to eat a sheep whole. Maria was still looking away from him, but this time… there were thin tracks down her cheeks that watery tears had clearly just run. As if telepathically, Maria whispered,
“Don’t look at me.” The words didn’t seem to reach him. Well, they reached him. He heard them clearer than anything else he had ever heard. He was so hyper-focused on his surroundings that he could’ve heard a pin drop from India. But, the words didn’t seem to process. They seemed to pass into his mind but then get garbled into unrecognizability by the sight in front of him. Her steel eyes flicked to him, and the look he was giving her was one of pity, she felt it burning in her chest- even though it was already burning with the most intense shame she had ever felt in years. Anger didn’t bubble like it usually would when an order was disobeyed, only a growing sense of dreading desperation. “Turn around, please…” Maria’s eyes tightened further when her shaking voice cracked in her plead, a gasp entering her lungs to despondently stop a sob.
The second whisper hit Phil as a suddenly sobering command. He turned on his heel and brought his hands before him, though his face was still in solid, unexpressive and damn well harrowed shock from the sight that had just taken place before him.
Maria’s breath stuttered again when she tried to move her tired, suddenly aching legs, like she had blocks of concrete tied to them. There was another disgustingly wet stchkk from under her, and the horrifying noise was… just too much.
A breathy gasp, almost a choked sob left Maria’s throat, followed by whimper as she tried to silence it. Her mind was on fire almost just as much as the rest of her body with shame as recollections ran through it, beating her down even more as she truly came to realize what had just occurred. ‘I… Oh my god, this can’t be happening. I’m dreaming. This is a nightmare.’ She glued her eyes shut, fiercely trying to bend reality to her despondent wish. A wish to turn back time, a wish to make herself disappear, a wish to just make this not real. But, sure enough, Maria still felt wetness underneath her, she till felt a harrowing warmth in her crotch and she still felt absolutely disgusted with herself, and so fucking sorry for doing this to Coulson.
She… God, she couldn’t help it anymore.
A sob, a true, genuine cry came from her throat, and Maria felt the uncomfortably vulnerable feeling of tears, too familiarly warm to be any kind of okay. Coulson’s head turned in her direction, though he didn’t face her. At this point, Maria wasn’t sure if she wanted him to face her, if she wanted him to leave and never come back or if she wanted him to take his gun and shoot her in the fucking head. What she did know was that she would never live this down, ever. Not from Coulson, he’d most likely never mention it again, but from herself. It would always be in the back of her mind, torturing her with fractals and blurry snapshots of her soaked uniform, the darkened carpet floor and the look on Coulson’s face when it had started.
With the last tattered shed remaining in her, Maria tried to stand, doing her best to block out the squelching sounds from underneath her. How could she have not heard the beginning of… this? How could she not feel her bottom getting wet, why couldn’t she feel her legs? Why the fuck couldn’t she hold it once it started?
Maria felt her legs try to give out, but she caught herself on her desk, though she tossed herself in a corner along the same wall as the window that led to the bullpen outside, trying her best to stay hidden from the other agents. Phil couldn’t restrain himself at the somewhat violent noise, turning to Maria with a concerned glaze in his eyes.
“Don’t fucking look at me!” Maria shouted, though with her voice cracking and her desperate tone, as well as her soaked and quivering thighs, it was more of a futile beg that burst from her lips than one of her usually cold and surefire commands she often gave out. Phil’s eyes averted from her again but when Maria’s legs gave out and she fell to her knees in the corner, he fully turned to her, no longer able to be deterred.
Maria’s eyes were turned down with shame and sadness, staring at the thin, faint dribbling line that dotted the carpet following her into the corner, disappearing under her thighs. Her knees were turned in to themselves and her boots facing away from her. Her hands were on the wall looking for anything secure to disappear into. Phil took a step closer, expecting another broken shout or even a swing in his direction, but what happened next just… broke him.
Maria flinched at his approach and turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shuts and raking her nails along the wall into tight fists. The words that tore out of Maria’s lips confused Coulson as much as they shocked him.
“I’m sorry!”
Sorry?
“What are you sorry for? This isn’t your fault,” Coulson didn’t even realize he had said anything until Maria looked to him, her eyes shining with unfallen tears and… shock?
Maria looked down to the carpet again, her lips coming together in what could only possibly be described as a fear-laden, apologetic stare. Silently this time she whispered, fainter than she looked, ‘I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes and her head bowed, her lips splitting to release a gasping cry. The warmth against her crotch was growing cooler, and the wet fabric of her underwear was clinging to her clammy skin uncomfortably, not to mention how itchy her thighs were getting with the rough material of her S.W.O.R.D. uniform that was also clinging to her flesh. The reason for the irritation only brought somehow more shame to Maria’s mind and she sighed in equal parts vicious shame and violent affliction.
Coulson gently sighed in Maria’s silence and kneeled down to her level. Maria flinched again and her eyes were suddenly crack-wide, piercing his with the most haunting gaze of…
Fear, Fear and sorrow. Fearful was another thing Maria was not. She could be fighting aliens. An airborne hamlet could be falling to the ocean at five-hundred feet a second. A sentient robot could kamikaze itself through a window and crawl toward her like a zombie. She could face down with every Avenger and still have nothing but a straight face. She was never scared- why did she look scared now? There was nothing wrong with fear, even for her, but she was just never scared.
“Are you okay?” He asked warily, careful not to spook her in her current state.
“I… I-I’m sorry…” She repeated, this time stuttering. Coulson shook his head again, moving his hand up to Maria. Her eyes shot to his hand, quickly whipped away and squeezed shut again, this time with her also pressing herself as far against the wall as her body allowed, like she was…
like she was preparing to be hit, but Coulson quickly disregarded that- Maria would never let herself be hit by anyone without immediately dealing double back
“Maria...” He breathed, entirely confused why she would be at all displaying this kind of reaction at something so inconsequential. “Maria?” He asked, louder this time though not so loud as to scare her any further. He had gotten his memories back five years ago- September eighteenth, 2021- and not once did he remember ever, ever hitting Maria, or ever seeing her get hit- at least, not without ripping out whoever hit her’s spine through their eye sockets (true story, he’d seen it once on a particularly long Thor-related mission in New Mexico, and that had been a lot of paperwork), but this… Was she being abused by someone? Had she been abused by someone in the past and just never bothered to tell him?
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” He whispered, holding out his hands in surrender as Maria’s eyes prodded him very warily, lined with tears and a look of sheer distrust. It was then, as she blinked repeatedly, she seemed to be brought down from whatever hellish high she had just been in and crashed down into the real world, as tears suddenly rolled out of her eyes and she sighed in a heavy, emotional gasp.
“Oh god…” She sighed, staring down at the slightly faded urine mark on her crotch. She looked to Coulson again, her eyes filled with a distinctly different kind of sorry. She opened her mouth, as if trying to speak, but nothing could even come forth. Her shaking began to settle, though it didn’t entirely cease and she settled down and out of the corner a small bit.
“I-I’m sorry, I don- I…” She sighed, taking Coulson’s hand suddenly. If he hadn’t been trained by Nick Fury himself, he probably would have jumped back. “I’m sorry that I… That that happened, and I… it just…” She stuttered, trying to answer all of his questions in one faint breath but only using up her air. Coulson rubbed her palm and muttered,
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” She sighed, sounding relieved and oddly tired- not oddly, actually, but at least she seemed calm now. He kept rubbing her palm, massaging what he felt to be tired and strained muscles. He tugged her closer, and to his surprise she readily followed. Their faces were only inches apart, but it was Maria who moved herself into Coulson’s lap, curling up against like a giant cat. He knew she liked being close to him, but Maria was never much for cuddling. Not privately- unless it was hellishly cold- and certainly not publicly. In fact, he was usually the one to start most of their physical contact, and it was usually just hugs around her waist or gentle brushes. But, he stayed silent, acknowledging that she was in a particularly fragile state and he never wanted to be the one to push her- either into the murdering state or into another breakdown, especially not now.
He felt the considerable dampness from her rear rub onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He did want to get her dry, though, so he gently ushered her off of him.
“We should get you dry, huh?” He asked, consoling her as he helped her stand. An embarrassed, sad look passed her face, but she looked away and nodded, crossing her arms and hugging herself like she was cold. Her breath shuddered with nervousness, and what seemed to be a massive amount of remaining shame.
“Phil…” She breathed, stepping closer to him, her arms still wrapped around herself. She looked him in the eyes, hers saddened and wary. I’m… Please don’t…” She struggled, sighing in frustration. Her thighs tried to turn in on themselves, ruthlessly shaking as they tried to hide the wet stain that came to Maria’s knees.
“I won’t tell anyone. I promise, Maria.” It had been so long since he had called her Maria, not ‘Agent Hill’, just ‘Hill’ or something else. Just ‘Maria’ seemed uncharacteristically civilian of them, but the current situation certainly called for something much less… well, something civilian, he supposed..
“No, I- Yes, thank…” She stuttered again. “Please don’t laugh…” She whispered, looking to the stained carpet. She felt so infantile. She had just… humiliated herself and now, off all things, she was cuddling herself in the corner of her office, begging her partner of twenty-two years not to laugh at her while her eyes were locked on the source of her shame. She felt ridiculous, she felt like a schoolgirl…
She felt unabashedly ashamed, and there was a growing hole in the pit of her stomach when she suddenly felt Coulson’s left hand feather around her arm. She felt a pull on the back of her mind telling her to escape his touch, but every other part of her being told her to get closer, to embrace it like she did before. There may have been a moment, perhaps not even long enough to even be measured by human resources, where Maria resisted Coulson’s brush. Where she backed up, still afraid of his judgement, still afraid to be mocked for this again. The small piece of a moment was almost a full minute in Maria’s eyes as she took in the man before her.
His face was carved with worry. His brown eyes, only barely obscured by wrinkles of experience and age, twinkled with what could only be defined as adoration. But, only a particle of a moment did she hold herself back. For only a particle of a moment did she allow the grip of shame, humiliation, fear and disgust to dig into her flesh before she allowed the stronger force emanating from the man opposite her to overpower them all. He carefully allowed Coulson to embrace her, never minding the gag-inducing squlch she heard and felt when her thighs met.
And, instead of scorn and mockery, Maria felt her chest bloom with… warmth, pure and unadulterated. It was… she wouldn’t admit that- not again. But, the hole that had fissured in her stomach a particle of a second ago suddenly sealed as if sucked back together by a momentary black hole. Coulson muttered something into an earpiece- she couldn’t discern, but something about ‘Director Fury’, and she silently prayed. While most people saw Nick J. Fury as an imposing and scary-as-hell man one would not be able to safely share anything with, Phil, Maria, Natasha and Clint’s family knew him as a humble, if somewhat paranoid man with a heart that kept very close the very few it cared for.
Phil held Maria tighter, slowly beginning to sway side to side. Maria felt herself begin to rebut, but the motion was undeniably calming on her as of now fragile psyche (it was rarely this) and it made her breathing just a little more even. From outside the room, which no one was looking into, thank god, there was the sound of heavy boots approaching the door, and a baritone, agitated voice speaking to another agent. The other agent quickly buggered off when Fury shooed him away.
The Director of S.W.O.R.D., Nicholas Joseph Fury, entered the room with his trenchcoat barely making it inside in time and a thick black briefcase in his left hand. He briskly closed the door behind him and his angry expression quickly morphed to one of sympathy and understanding as he turned to the two agents, with Coulson’s back to him. The man absentmindedly stuck a disk to the window’s sill, playing a hologram of another situation with the three entirely.
“How bad is it?” Coulson began to turn, but Fury put a hand up and closed his eye. “Just…” Maria’s now-slightly teary eyes just looked to Nick from Coulson’s shoulder, telling the Director all he needed to know.
“Director, I-” Maria began, suddenly unable to look Fury in the eye. She knew she was safe with Coulson and Fury, but her mind just… didn’t allow her to fully surrender.
“Maria, Nick. Been back for a while, now haven’t I?” Maria shook her head and nodded along with a quiet whisper of ‘Nick’. Phil allowed his arms to fall back to his sides, though he stayed close to the brunette woman.
Fury placed the briefcase on Maria’s desk with a loud thump before motioning Coulson to follow. Phil looked to Maria and brushed her hand, receiving a small smile in return. Fury placed his hands behind his back as he spoke.
“Once you’re ready, go home Maria. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Phil came to Fury’s side as he finished before promptly following as the Director left the room, Phil closing the door behind them to leave Maria in privacy.
“You probably have questions.” Fury assumed. Phil swallowed and nodded, his neutral and unaffected expression absolutely contradicting the hundreds of questions shuttling through his mind. ‘Why was Maria scared? Why was she crying? Why did she apologize!?’ But he kept his tone flat as he responded,
“Yeah, a few,” Fury nodded in expectancy and motioned Coulson to follow him as he made his way to an elevator. The elevator was rather large and sported a window to the outside, with a view of New York City. In the distance, among all the other skyscrapers, Phil caught eye of the majestic Avengers Tower with the ‘A’ glinting proudly in the sunlight. They both stepped into the elevator, with Fury selecting the level three stories above. As he did, he spoke.
“Blackout.” At his word, the glass of the elevator tinted to a near black, though light still flourished in the lift from four overhead lights casting an industrial white light. Phil adjusted his stance with his hands clasped in front of him, his bare hand overtop his gloved. Fury stood with his hands behind his back as he faced the door. A few moments passed filled with nothing but silence- Coulson noticed that the elevator also wasn’t moving- before Fury began with, “How much do you actually know about Maria Hill?” Coulson was silent for a moment as he considered his superior’s words.
“I’m not sure. I’ve worked with her… Twenty-two years, I’d like to think I know a lot. How much is there?” Fury huffed a small smile at Coulson’s words, nodding.
“Well, you know most of it. An agent for most of her life, joined at sixteen. One of our best, ‘side from you, Romanoff and Barton. But, you might not know about her upbringing.” It was true- Maria seldom spoke of her family apart from aggressive hatred and muddled memories she looked back at less than fondly, but he never prodded too far into it. “Thing is… ” The Director hesitated for a moment, as if choosing the right words. “Her father and mother had her too young- seventeen- and divorced too young, her dad didn’t stand a chance in the court- had a past of small crime.” Phil nodded along.
“Her mother won full custody with a motherly exterior, but she wasn’t at all capable of raising a kid. Court case happened when she was… Five.” Coulson felt a pang of sorrow for his partner. While he knew she had come from bad beginnings, he never really knew exactly how hard it had been for her. “Her mother had a phobia, a bad one. Urophobia,” Fury exhaled sharply, looking to the blackened widow behind him for a moment. “Whenever she saw it, she freaked. Got violent.”
The pieces suddenly clicked in Coulson’s head and both his heart and stomach dropped, though he stayed silent.
But what Fury said next simply hurt.
“When he was eight, she had a bad nightmare. She had… well, y’know. Her mother came in to her screaming, but when she saw the mess… Maria didn’t stand a chance, ended up verbally and physically injured. Two cracked ribs, a black eye, even broken fingers, but the mental scars...” He trailed off, allowing silence to blanket them again.
As silence engulfed him, Phil’s head suddenly began spinning. His breathing stopped altogether and he fell against the wall of the elevator in an attempt to stay standing. He sighed heavily and looked to his Director.
“She…” Was all he could produce. His head was struggling to keep up. No, this couldn’t be right. Fury just nodded, and another sigh of, “Enlighten,” brought back the sun’s warmth. Phil looked to the floor in shock. He knew, for security reasons, he could never know everything. But… this was… ‘My God.’
“Sorry y’had to hear it like that, but it’s a strict need-to-know.” Fury commented as the elevator carefully began moving upwards. Coulson shakily regained his footing, but his face was still shocked.
“I… Yes, sir, I understand.” He whispered. He wasn’t angry… No, that’s exactly what he was. But not at being excluded from the secret, but from… learning it. Maria… All this time and she had that weighing on her conscience. His fists tightened as he imagined Maria now, fully strong and adult with wounds like the ones her mother gave her. This was… Not okay. He felt an uncharacteristic anger bubble in his chest and before he could stop himself or even think about what he said, the words spilled into the small room.
“Is she dead?” Fury looked to him, but not with surprise or worry, but solace. A small smirk crossed his face as the doors opened to the floor Fury had selected what felt like hours ago. They began to move to another objective, one that could be completed in Maria’s absence as Fury half-admitted.
“I’m not saying it was Barnes, but…”
Phil nodded in understanding, his fists relaxing once again. For a particle of a moment, he imagined Maria, dressed like the Winter Soldier and holding a bloody knife, standing above a cruel-faced lifeless woman in her fifties. In a dying bout of anger, he lowly commented…
“Good.”
And for that fragment of a moment, that small part, that particle... Coulson felt a sense of… Justification. Remember it or not, Coulson put it in his mind that, next time they met, he would have to thank Barnes for that particular assassination.
Fury nodded along, but another thought filled his head. 'What caused this? No way Maria did this herself- the woman. Woman in white.' The poke he knew he had felt when their eyes met felt too oddly familiar. He had first felt it when he met Wanda Maximoff.
Telepath. Psychic. She was behind this.
Fury scowled inwardly as he acknowledged that she was long goddamn gone from the building. But her face was engraved in his mind- he never, never forgot a face...
That woman was in some deep shit. Nobody fucks with Nick fucking Fury' family and survives. For his own sliver, chip and particle of a moment, Fury smiled wide and genuine.
Y'know what, I have no excuses. These gaps are getting longer and longer and I feel horrible about it, and my only excuse is burnout. I swear I try, even if it doesn't show. Regardless, here's the second part of your request @desperation_fan. With this piece, I wanted to try delving into the un-fetishized, hated side of wetting. Did I succeed? No, probably not. But I tried.
For future requests, for the sake of pleasing requesters, I think I need more detailed suggestions, unless you're okay with the possibility that your requested character, situation or prompt has liberties taken with it. So, if you have a more detailed request, please leave not only the character, but a simple plotline, maybe even their reaction if you wish. Of course, if you don't care what liberties are taken, you can just suggest a character, situation or basic prompt. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this piece, and the next ones, should no requests come in, would most likely be Ava Starr, Mantis or Nebula, though it's yet to be decided. Anyway, have a good day, all.
Best regards,
NothingLeft |
Nebula
Just For Now?
The Benetar, On The Way to Earth
Holy.
Shit.
That was the only phrase going through Nebula’s machine mind as the door to the main room opened to her, revealing her team; the prestigious Guardians Of The Galaxy, ever ready to defend innocents and fight the evils of space and galaxies beyond.
They all looked like shit.
Peter Quill, their leader, was propped up by his two strong arms, heavy bags under tired bloodshot eyes. His shirt was on the table beside him as his torso was covered in light-but-bleeding wounds. Gamora pulled the needle away from his back, finishing stitching a particularly bad slash he had received. His jeans were muddy, bloody and torn, and his face had the odd bruise and cut decorating his features. His hair was ruffled and messy, even singed in some places.
Gamora was no better. Her eyes were barely open, her face was dropping with tiredness and outfit torn and bloody. Her hands were subtly shaking and she could barely stand, often having to adjust her stance to stay upright.
Mantis and Drax were already asleep, with Mantis laid along Drax’s lap. Drax’s snoring was impossibly loud, as always, but it would hardly keep them up at all. Rocket was trying to work on a piece of machinery, though he wasn’t getting anywhere as he had to pause and yawn almost every thirty seconds. Groot was nearby, his head falling with his eyelids before jerking awake, the process repeating every minute or so.
‘The fight,’ Nebula thought with hazy disdain.
The fight had been agonizingly arduous. Nearly thirteen hours of a mission involving climbing, running, fisticuff combat, hiding, running, climbing, running… Never mind the blaze of the planet’s two suns that had nearly put Groot, Rocket and Mantis into early graves.
“Guardians…” Quill stifled a yawn with his hand, though the sight brought a yawn to both Nebula and her sister. “Fuck it, time to... sleep.” He finished unceremoniously, smiling almost deliriously at the word ‘sleep’. Gamora gave a half-hearted ‘woo’ and a slow, careful fist in the air, while Rocket limpy dropped his hopefully-inexplosive workings onto the floor. Groot smiled and finally let his eyes close, which brought a careful smile to Nebula’s face as well. She leaned herself against the door, tiredness overtaking her conscience for a brief moment. She quickly snapped herself up with nearly the last of her resolve and shook her head, though it did nothing to clear the fog in her head. The fog was heavy and it carried a whisper she couldn’t discern in English or any other language, though her body interpreted it for her.
‘Rest. Sleep. Shit, just lie down- something.’ She was in no position, physically or willingly, to deny her body its call. With the most limp, pathetic wave she’d ever seen, much less given, Nebula turned on her heel, exiting the center room of the Benetar. A door to her left carried a matching whisper to the one in her head and her body, summoned by the whisper, immediately went into an autopilot. Her hand, disconnected from her mind, waved the door open and she entered, her vision bobbing unfamiliarly.
Nebula’s eyes closed before she could even land them on her bed, though she knew her room very well enough to know where it was. Across from the door, behind her desk. Her feet, suddenly heavier than the ship she was within, never left the ground as she kicked off her boots, her brain never even remembering to bother with the rest of her battle-scarred uniform. She narrowly missed the corner of her desk and her arms just caught the edge of her mattress.
With the trembling last wisp of her strength, Nebula lifted herself onto her bed, laughing tiredly despite her back hitting the wall. Her head on a pillow, she curled up in a fetal ball as usual, but then she remembered nothing.
But, as her mind slipped into the deepest sleep she had felt in practically her entire life, Nebula’s body resumed functioning. Despite her father’s cruelty, her body still retained a complete anatomy, despite its mechanical pieces. She still had a stomach, intestines, liver, heart. And especially critical as of her current, she still had a bladder. Quite a capacious one, granted, though it still had limits. And the mission that had exhausted them all so thoroughly had done such through all the fighting, running and climbing they had to do to save their own lives and that of the people native, but it had also been damn well lethally hot.
Nebula hated heat of any kind. The room in which her father had replaced so much of her body with machine had been hot. The blade he had used to cut her up had been hot. The metal had been hot. The pain itself had been so hot, when she recalled the memories of her recreation, it burned so bad she wish she had died.
To fend off the ravenous, all-consuming swelter, Nebula had consumed nearly as much water as Groot. So much that she had peed nearly twenty times in the thirteen hours she had been en mission. But, when the adrenaline and pain had worn off, it was quickly and wholly replaced with an excruciating exhaustion, leaving any bodily function peacefully unacknowledged.
As Nebula curled up, her muscles sore and tired, she didn’t even notice the dull ache of her churning bladder shoot up from underneath her robotic stomach. It was perhaps half-full, and if she rested for a normal- for her, at least, she still had night terrors of her father’s eyes- five or six hours, she would be able to brush it off and just go.
Easy.
Eleven Hours Later
Groot felt a warmth on his face and couldn’t help but lean toward it. As he opened his eyes, the harsh glare of a close star was coming in through a large porthole. The tree smiled and allowed the warmth to help him awaken. The light and warmth in the fight however long ago had been pleasant for the first three or four hours, but after that it had just been overly drying for the foliage resting on his hard wooden body, and he had absorbed a lot of water to make it up. This smaller amount of sun felt very nice, and he had no worry of running out of water, as Peter always said he functioned kind of like a Terran cactus; he consumed water and then contained it for later absorption.
Groot sighed and began to loosen his joints from their rest. They gave some resistance, but the water inside of him and the gentle glaze of sun helped them wake up similarly to his mind. He carefully stepped forward, though through the serene peace of mind he had awoken in, his mind had allowed him to forget the pipe running along the ceiling. His wooden crest bumped into it with a quiet tunk and a brief groan of irritation from him.
It truly felt like nearly yesterday that he, Rocket and the pirate-angel had taken off from Nidavellir, him just a ‘teenaged sproutling’. He was now at his- at least, what he believed to be- full size- due in no small part to the odd, rapid growth his systems had gone through when he had returned from the purgatory of the Snap. That and Terra, or Earth, was so rich in minerals and good soil that just a week planted within “New Asgard”, he had grown exponentially.
The porthole with sun was coming through was rather small, and as Groot moved into a small kitchen room, a larger window bathed even more of his hard body in the warm glow of the star. He moaned in a low, happy tone and smiled as greenery on his shoulders rejoiced at more of the gentle light and warm, especially compared to that of ten hours ago.
Groot was nearly still for almost ten minutes before the quiet shuffling of a single pair of feet swayed him from his serenity. He turned with a gentle smile to see Nebula, barefoot though still in her battle garb, rubbing her left eye with one hand and stifling a yawn with the other. She clumsily pulled out a chair and hastily seated herself, nearly missing the seat altogether. Groot smiled as the woman, still clearly enraptured in tiredness, tried to wake her body.
“I am Groot,” He greeted, facing the sun again.
“Mmm...” Nebula attempted, her mind not fully adept enough yet to actually respond in full. “G’morn-” Her speech was ended by a long, large yawn that surely stretched her mouth to the absolute largest it could be. Groot just chuckled, absentmindedly pressing a red button on a machine beside him. It was a small, black box with a glass pot with a handle within. It was a ‘coffee machine’ Quill had in his ship since Groot had known him. He never favoured the bitter taste over simple water- even with copious sugar- but the smell was pleasant for him.
“Mm, thanks,” Nebula mumbled, her head resting in her palm as her elbow rested on the table. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and Groot could help but smile when a light, gentle snoring began leaving Nebula’s nose.
But, beneath Nebula’s sleepiness, her body was at war with itself, and it was one almost as brutal as the one that had put it there in the first place. On one side, Nebula’s artificial muscles were purely aching, barely able to carry her. But, on the other side, an alarm was blaring that just didn’t reach Nebula’s mind through her haze. Her bladder, which had already been cradling an adequate amount of liquid, was now brimming full with it- so full, in fact, that it was even creating the slightest of bulges under her tummy. The warnings, the alarms, the bad of her full bladder was all being blocked out by the cloud of not-quite-awake-yet in her head. The good, how little there may have been- like the feeling of utter fullness, the large ball of warmth in her belly and the tautness of her uniform felt very… relaxing- was even further teasing her mind with just another brisk period more of shut-eye.
One that Nebula didn’t deny.
Groot quietly moved next to Nebula, smiling as he loomed over her. She, opposed to the disposition she always gave off, looked almost cute- like a sleeping animal- as her chest rose and fell gently with deep, relaxed breaths. This is how he liked seeing his team, he had no trouble admitting, but seeing Nebula in such serenity was oddly gratifying in particular, as she had such a hard, unfair life that she deserved peace, maybe more than anyone else he knew- except perhaps Rocket, but even then he thought them equals.
Groot moved his hand, which he softened with a gentle layer of plush, green moss onto Nebula’s back, smiling even wider when he felt nearly no tension. Nebula was constantly tense from all kinds of stress- physical, mental and emotional- and it was so rare for her body to be so slack.
It was another few minutes, perhaps fifteen, until Nebula’s brief nap was interrupted by a shrill-but-quiet beep. Nebula started awake, though she still wasn’t fully awake. Groot quickly stole his hand away, though when the cyborg woman’s deep, entrancing, half-lidded black eyes met his, it was clear that she had felt his hand on her back.
There was a gentle, peaceful silence as they simply looked at each other. Nebula gave a careful smile and a gentle nod, though her gaze turned down to the face of the table. Groot turned to the machine that had emitted the noise, seeing the glass pot now nearly filled with a rich dark brown liquid with a thin layer of light froth and bubbles around the rim of the glass pot.
The eponymous coffee.
A blue metal mug with ‘Nebula’ inscribed on the side in blocky, grey paint was beside the machine among four others similar in shape, and another smaller mug. They all had names on them in differing colours and hands; A chestnut-brown mug, and ‘Captain Star-Lord’ was written in quick, large but clean strokes of an orange-yellow. A dark green mug, emblazoned with a precise, careful ‘Gamora’ in cursive black. A larger grey mug with ‘Drax’ in messy all-capitalized black. A white mug with ‘Mantis’, in a messy handquite similar to Drax's- Mantis didn’t know how to write much, though she was doing her best to learn Ego apparently hadn't deemed it necessary for her- and Rocket’s smaller mug, though his had no name, instead sporting a general schematic for an explosive.
Groot grasped Nebula’s cup and brought it before him, also taking told of the handle of the coffee pot. The pot was heavy as the hot, steaming coffee sloshed about inside, though he managed quite easily. He slowly began to allow the liquid to plummet from the pot into Nebula’s mug, the kitchen then being filled by a quiet, thick splashing. The splashing became duller the more filled the cup became and Groot eased the pot from its tilt as waves of hot coffee licked the top edge of the mug. Among the sound, Nebula sighed heavily, enjoying the wafted scent of the coffee.
But, when he stopped pouring, the splashing of the coffee was replaced by another sound, one that wasn’t there when he began. The best way he could describe it was a hissing. It was quiet, and at first Groot thought that there was a pipe leaking. It continued on for a few seconds, nearly silent though somewhat satisfying to listen to in its consistency. Then, it was joined by another subtle sound, though this one was slightly more pronounced. A dull, quiet pattering, like liquid dripping onto the floor cascaded into the air, the faint hissing still continuing and even growing a bit more violent. The hsss became a hkkk, like it was hitting fabric with a decent amount of force. He stood, confused, as the sound perforated the corners of his mind, almost becoming background noise as he held both the coffee pot and Nebula’s full mug.
The sound continued as Groot shook his head, prioritizing the tired girl at the table. He placed the coffee pot within the machine’s compartment and moved to Nebula’s seat, placing the coffee before her. The noise got louder, leading Groot to believe that, yes, a pipe in the main room may have burst and is now leaking. He grunted to the sleeping girl kindly before making his way past her.
Barely missing the puddle underneath Nebula’s seat.
Nebula shifted in her seat, unaware of the splish of her thighs in the well of liquid beneath her that caused a wave of her warm, recently-expelled pee to be sent to the ground into a slightly golden puddle. Her butt was soaking wet, her crotch was hot and still noisily squirting urine that splashed down her legs and readily fell to the floor over the edges of the chair, pattering a bit louder than before. The pressure of the lava-like urine was increasing, hitting the fabric of her uniform with such power that it made Groot halt.
No, the sound was getting quieter the further he got from the room. Couldn’t be anything beyond. Groot turned back around, though this time he found what was causing the noises, which were all getting louder and more intense, even if it was just slightly so. He was… completely stunned by what he saw.
Nebula’s mind perked up at the scent of coffee, though it was still fuzzy and most of it wasn’t awake. Her visibly machine left arm hit the table, hazily trying to find the base of her cup. A few waves of her hand, she found the cup with a dull metal-on-metal tunk. She found the handle, gripping it lazily. She didn’t yet have the strength to lift it, but her body slowly began coming to. The first thing she sensed was the sudden cacophony of noises even though they blended into the background of her mind. There was violent hissing, splashing and spraying piercing her ears, though she paid next to no mind to it. Her fingers tightened around the metal handle of the mug, letting her know she was now capable. With a shaky wrist she brought the mug to her lips, almost drunkenly taking in the nostalgic, comforting bitter taste. She sighed with comfort, the sounds still probing at her mind constantly.
'What the hell is that noise,’
“Groot… ” She mumbled, suddenly recalling his presence from earlier. He softly grunted in response from behind her, not much like himself. Nebula took her face off of her palm and sat straight, her ears picking up a loud splash with her moves. She groaned again, knowing she would be one of the first called to fix what seemed to be a leaking pipe.
But, as Nebula awoke in her seat, more of her body began to communicate with more of her mind. Her stomach- was it her stomach? No, no it was just below that- was aching, almost like it was in relief. Her thighs were trembling and the muscles within felt sore, like she had just been running. Her legs, thighs, butt and crotch felt hot, wet and squishy, and Nebula had to look at her coffee to ensure she hadn't spilt anything already.
Nope, still full. So why…?
Nebula sat still for a moment, pondering just what she was soaked with. When her mind gave no conclusive answer, the woman glanced down under the table. Flooding her seat, staining her uniform with dark, coagulating on the floor beneath her and still actively spurting unevenly from her vagina was very warm, glistening urine, slightly tinted a lovely gold. She felt the bottom curve of her thighs tingle with the liquid brimming around them, watching as it quickly evacuated from inside her an into her seat, then further onto the floor, sending golden splash droplets onto the chair's- and her own- legs as the puddle that enveloped her chair ballooned uncontrollably.
‘Hm.’ She looked back up and took a calm sip of her coffee, careful to not tip the mug back too far. She rested the mug on the table again, sighing as her body procedurally came to. She sighed, the decreasing pressure in her belly bringing a quiet peace to her inner systems.
Wait.
Nebula’s black eyes went wide and she almost threw herself out of her chair, though her legs gave out from underneath her as they quivered like weak branches in a storm from holding so much liquid back for so long without her even knowing. She looked, almost angrily, at her legs as they shivered, shimmering with a soaked golden glimmer in the star’s light. The puddle underneath her chair- and the one that was beginning to bloom from the sporadic hkkkkk-ing of urine spurting from between her trembling legs- caught the light almost beautifully, though Nebula was too appalled and angry with herself to admire.
‘Again… No, not this again...’ Nebula thought, fending off her thoughts. Though, as much as she tried, she just could not look away from the spritzing yellow liquid dying her maroon outfit’s crotch even darker, streaks of shine injecting into the disgustingly huge patch by the flowing liquid. She tried to stop it, she tightened every muscle in her body, but the flow was barely stunted, only fizzling slightly before Nebula had to give in from the suddenly onset weakness. Her muscles felt too damn weak to hold anything that was escaping her, despite her best efforts.
The sounds only made her stomach turn inside out more horribly. The violent sound as it gushed out of her and against the rough red material of her uniform. The splashing and pattering as her piss settled into the puddle around her. The staggered, stifled gasps escaping her as she realized that all hope was lost.
She sat for another fifteen seconds as her bladder confidently emptied onto the floor, accentuated vomit-inducingly by a powerful, hellish squirting. The stream, luckily enough for her psyche, was dying, the violating hkkk slowly reducing to a quiet hsss, and slower further as the stream now lacked the power and pressure to even reach her uniform, now simply leaking along the gentle curve of her ass to reach the floor. The organ once keeping all of the urine that now coated the floor was aching with a painful relief as her urine finally began to cease with an eternal trickle of burning urine.
She sat, shuddering and breathing sharply and harshly for an amount of time her mind absolutely couldn't fucking care to quantify, her vagina leaking like a hose with a hole in it at a pace almost matching her breathing. With a crackling gasp exiting her lungs parallel, her trickle slowed to a stop, searing drops rolling down the most intimate curves of her thighs on occasion.
Nebula's chest rose fully up and down with her humiliated breathing, but when she heard a soft, long groan, her entire consciousness nearly cut itself from existence out of pure and unabashed shame. Her head turned certainly too fast and her eyes crossed with Groot’s, whose jaw was slack with surprise and eyes wide with surprise and subtle something, Nebula was too on fire from embarrassment to care- at a glance, it looked like mortification.
Nebula tore her gaze away from Groot’s, though it just landed on her puddle again. She could see the steam rising from it die to the light streaming against her, and the sight of haze and vapour made her just want to fucking puke- almost as much as the sheer wetness she felt on her ass, in her crotch and down her thighs and calves. She couldn’t bear the sight, and placed her eyes back to Groot, closing her jaw apprehensively. She shook her head marginally, deeply afraid to fully move lest more burst forth from her, though she knew she was empty as the corner of her eye kept a golden shimmer bright and evident..
She wanted to leave. She wanted to jettison herself out of the ship and into the vast expanse of space. She wanted to die, then and there, because this was all too much. The last time had been a dare, but this… This was not okay. Groot was staring, she was still sitting in it, and this… Just, no.
Groot carefully stepped towards Nebula, acknowledging how much her eyes were darting and how her entire body was shaking. But, just one step was enough to attract her attention. Her jaw was clenched tight, her hands were in trembling fists and her eyes were trained and hard. Groot closed his mouth, anticipating yelling, violence or literally something to be thrown his way, but he was only met with a hoarse grunt and Nebula's quiet voice whisper,
“Go away.” It wasn’t a request nor a demand, it was in fact a command, but not one Groot was poised to obey. He shook his head, though his expression stayed soft. But, both his and Nebula’s faces broke into panic when they heard Peter and Gamora's shared room door hiss open. Groot suddenly felt ethereal instincts bite into his inner being, his very core, his absolute center and there was no combat as they took him over.
Not a thought passed through his head as he stepped into the warm, steaming golden liquid glazing the floor- sympathetic to Nebula’s shaky cringe at the unapologetic splshh- before he began absorbing it, the puddle slowly thinning and shrinking quickly yet soundlessly. Nebula’s eyes met his, to which he could only offer a quick smile.
The puddle, much to the woman's simultaneous shock, disbelief, mortification, joy and morbid surprise was disappearing quickly, almost like she was… wetting... herself in reverse. The conjoined puddle under the chair- and, indeed, in the seat, which she hadn’t noticed prior- were disappearing parallel thanks to Groot’s arm-branches. They both heard Quill and Gamora mumbling incoherently just around the corner, and again Groot’s instincts kicked in without any forethought.
He quickly scooped Nebula into his arms, smiling ever so at the small grunt mixed with a light gasp of surprise. He turned, making sure that the admittedly huge, soaking mark on Nebula’s uniform was as hidden as it could be. He then used his very monstrous height to quickly sidestep Star-Lord and Gamora, though they barely noticed due to their tiredness. Groot nearly clocked his head again as he ducked into Nebula’s room, laying her on her bed gently.
He turned to the closed door, vines erupting from his shoulders and his back as they gripped the door, warping it out of shape so Nebula could process her accident and change in undisturbed peace. However, in his instinctual eruption, Groot failed to remember one very critical fact;
He had trapped himself within as well, defeating the entire point of “in peace”. As the rush of his actions began to wear off nearly as fast as it had come, the shuffling of fabric made his stance straighten like steel. He dared not look behind him, knowing what lay in store would- certainly this time- be Nebula’s staff across his face. So, he stayed facing the twisted door wrapped in his shedded wooden tendrils, the shuffling of clothes being far too noisy to be simple movement anymore.
“Don’t turn around...” Nebula’s voice was harshly, almost painfully quiet and nearly drowned out by a monotonous ziiiiip as the cyborg woman dragged the front zipper down her body. The tone in her voice was painful to him, especially as it was one she rarely spoke through. Even when she spoke of her father, the same one who had tortured and mutilated her, she spoke only with resentment and a blazing hatred far more bitter than any coffee. But this? Her voice was meek, disdained and humiliated. That was the only term that fit.
Humiliated.
Nevertheless, Groot didn’t move at all, wincing slightly as a moist, waterlogged stchkkk peeled off of Nebula’s thighs. He heard her groan and quite possibly stagnate a gag, though he said nothing. There was a lighter, more subdued sthck as the wet fabric hit the floor. There was a dull, matted, thick flap, like a dense towel was shaken, and the sound of rough-fabric on flesh. Nebula accentuated the sounds with groans and disappointed sighs. The towel hit the ground, though lighter than that of her uniform. It was followed by airy fluttering, like a loose flag set in a warm breeze.
There was a few more moments of fluttering and awkward, thought calm silence. After what seemed like too long of studying his own work in the destroyed panel before him, Groot was summoned by the quietest whisper.
“Okay…” He hesitated. He didn't want to make things impossibly more awkward between them, but he felt as if eye contact right now would do just that, his resistance already shaky. But, when the gentle brush of her thin, skilled finger feathered along his arm, he couldn’t help but turn to her.
She stood uncharacteristically meekly, her head bowed down to her feet, which were pointed only noticeably inward. He was a tall being, and she was by no means short, but her unusually embarrassed figure made her appear much smaller than he was used to. Her blue skin was covered by loose, baggy dark blue fabric- which made her seem even smaller- looking soft to the touch. It was clearly too large for her as the hem of the sleeves came to her first knuckle and the hem of her bottoms almost entirely covered her feet. Her jaw was still clenched and her fists were tight, and her face read that she was still heavily berating herself for her… accident.
“I…” She tried to speak, but it barely came out a murmur. “Don’t tell anyone-” her voice gained its usual strength- or as close to it as she could muster with her current headspace- for a moment “- about this, or I will kill you again.” Her black, gleaming eyes stared up at him, threatening as possible. But, with her current dress and what he had just seen, he barely believed it. But, he nodded solemnly nonetheless. He turned to tear away the tendrils blocking the door, but his large hand was caught in hers, though hers was far smaller.
“No…” She begged quickly, her voice staying as straight as possible. “I… I don’t want anyone… I don’t want anyone else to know…” She trailed off her voice trembling despite being nearly inaudible. She also quickly tacked on a docile “- about this...” Her left arm gripped her right elbow gently. “You can’t tell them about this, Groot,”
“I am Groot,” he assured readily. He would never break a secret so humiliating for her, even if she did first. She nodded, her jaw relaxing for what seemed like the first time that morning. There was a break of silence between them, with Groot caringly looking down on Nebula, like a mother hen to its peeping chick.
Groot, almost too easily, allowed Nebula to nestle into his arms, pressing against the hard wood that made up his chest. Though, he padded himself as light, plush moss- the same he had padded his hand with earlier- cushioned his body for the woman in his arms. He allowed the both to rest against the bent and dented door, slowly sliding to the floor. Nebula, as if they were thinking in the same beat, rested her legs along Groot’s, curling up in his gentle hold.
“This isn’t… anything, this is just…” She muttered, almost as an afterthought.
“I am Groot,”
There was a few harmonious beats of silence. “Yes. Just…”
“I am Groot.”
“Just for now. And soon, I’ll purge this entire morning from my memories.” Nebula chided with a hint of sadness. But, as she ran her hands along the soft, pillow-like moss she rested against, she carefully corrected.
“The bad parts. You're coffee's better than Quill,” she tried to joke, a half-smile lifting a corner of her mouth.
“I am Groot,” he agreed softly, rubbing her back in a slow, comforting motion.
“Yes. Just for now,”
Though, unbeknownst to the both of them, the “for now” of their agreement extended long into their time, until Star-Lord came knocking on their door an apparent five hours later. They had remained awake, though in silence. Calm, hospitable, regenerative silence.
Just for now.
I surely didn't expect to get another piece out so fast, but I have to, again, thank @Dynamic for his incredible words of wisdom. I can't actually express how much his words have helped me to get past the roadblock that's, admittedly, been plaguing me since my first piece with The Scarlet Witch.
I see Omo.org as a community, as do most. And, as a community, we have guidelines, rules and, more personally, unique normalities (what we perceive as normal and acceptable) that form us. However, what we sometimes fail to make note of is that normality, the most malleable rulebook we live by in a community, often stagnates content. I'm glad to say that the vast variety of content here on Omo.org is far from stagnant, though I will admit, I have recently been feeling like my content has been growing such. As I said, the guidelines and hard rules are unbreakable without punishment, and therefore we only have normality to break from holding us back. But, one devastating thing that comes with normality, especially as esoteric as the normalities embedded within each and every one of the people in a community in such a diverse content ecosystem as this website, is fear. Personal fear.
Fear is what holds all humans back, sometimes to benefit and other times to deficit. As a writer, the largest fear I personally cradled was fear of imperfection and fear of displeasing those who indulged in my work- either leaving them dissatisfied, empty or simply unhappy. But, as @Dynamic so beautifully enlightened to me, you truly can't please everyone. But, if you please even one likeminded person, you've succeeded in your medium.
Fear is what holds people back, and personal normality generates personal fear. To break the cycle, you have to realize- with the help of those around you, in your community- that your normality, your content's normality, may be generating a stunting aura of fear of evolution. But, to conquer personal fear, you have to be unafraid- unfortunately paradoxically- to evolve your normality to, in fact, out-evolve your fear. In essence and less proseful saying; You have to be able to recognize your fears, your normalities, your rules and your guidelines to determine what you can do if you push to the limits. And, ever critically, you have to be able to recognize that personal fear only exists to hold you back.
Fear always holds us back. To push beyond, to grow and to evolve past it, you have to bow not to fear nor to evolution, but you have to keep your head high and innovate through it. You have to reach outside your comfort zone with anything you do once you feel you've grown stagnant as I feel I have. You have to use human's uncanny superpower of ingenuity, whether or not you see it in yourself, to innovate, to evolve past your personal fear.
In summary; You have to evolve your normalities through your fear to recognize what you're capable of, to recognize what you're happy doing. Only you can break your fear and create new normality that will not bow to fear.
Nor can you. Fear, and the normality that generates it, exist to hold you back, to keep you in place and to grow you stale. Bow to neither and innovate yourself and your medium, your work, to a place that breaks stagnation. And then, from the ashes of you fear like a phoenix from its own, create your best work.
Apologies for the painfully long speech, It needed to be said and I couldn't write it except for here. With all that said, I will be damning myself to create my best work, and if you have constructive criticism it's greatly appreciated. As an aside, feel fell to request any character from the list of twenty-three, alongside scenarios, settings and causes. With all that said, take these words and the words of @Dynamic (Seriously, I cannot than you enough for what you said) under advisement going forward- Lord knows I will- and I hope you all have the best of days.
Best regards,
NothingLeft
Fear, normality and convention exist to bind. Break the binds. Innovate. Push. Create. Bow to none. |
Valkyrie
Ticklish
New Asgard, Queens Quarters
The Queen of New Asgard, the prodigious Avenger and a happily newly-wed bride, Valkyrie giggled with a clear note of haughtiness as she and her king, lover and now finally husband embraced against the wall. The heat between them was visible as Valkyrie placed her knee next to Loki’s hip. The God of Mischief, without even thinking, readily took hold of the supple, thick bottom curve of her thigh, hiking up the hem of her royal Aesir dress as his hand quickly moved for her ass. Valkyrie moaned and giggled simultaneously when Loki’s firm hand squeezed her flesh- half of his hand was on her heated, lustful flesh, but the other half’s touch was muzzled by the fabric of her underwear, which she felt so unanimously pleased and begrudged at that she couldn’t honestly tell if she was about to moan in pleasure or groan in disappointment.
But when Loki pulled Valkyrie’s pelvis into his and gently ground his firm, thick cock against a divet between the plump caramel lips that lay underneath the tight, red cloth of his queen’s thin-but-still-too-thick underwear, she wholeheartedly picked her former option. Loki grinned with a breathy laugh when Valkyrie’s throat let flow a harmonious, low moan that seemed to blow up the very room they were set in like a balloon. Valkyrie now had only one foot on the floor, the ten-inch height difference they both eternally lusted for made slightly more bearable by her tall, elaborately crafted Aesir heels.
Loki’s hands desperately grabbed at Valkyrie’s back, searching for the neck of her dress, a zipper, some buttons- just anything to get to more of her skin open to his hungry grasp. In tandem, he slid down from his lover’s hot, open mouth onto the curve of her jaw and further onto her throat kissing and sucking on the clear, unfettered light skin. Valkyrie sucked her luscious, shiny lips in as she moaned, allowing her eyes to flutter closed- had they even been open to begin with?- her thigh still pressed hard against Loki’s hip.
“My love… I think it time to remove-” as he spoke, he fanned the fancy material of her white, flowy dress in mild, building irritation “- this, hmm?” The hand he still had clasped to her butt massaged with a squeeze, teasing the heat that ached just inches from the tips of his fingers. She knew he felt it when she saw his eyes somehow dilate even further. The heat between them had, some time ago, melted her vocal cords, leaving her unable to say much aside from moans and gasps.
Wordless they both were as Valkyrie strode quickly and shakily through the large hall, thanking the Gods that all of the citizens had departed to their homes again, as she could barely walk with the heat between her legs and she was confident there was a physical, inviscid boiling drip of her heat running down the silky surface of her thigh as her heels clicked against the dark wooden floor and bounced off of the tall stone walls. Through an ornate dark wooden door that was slammed loudly and hurriedly behind them and once again the lovers were caught in a hurricane of heat, passion and growing despondency as Loki took a fiercer hold of his Queen’s jugular, ripping a fuller, lower moan that rumbled her chest as it escaped.
Loki’s hands found their way to her ass again, though this time they were blocked by the fabric of her dress. He growled in irritation as did Valkyrie when her small, skinny hand found the bulge of her lover’s penis, still restricted by the black dress pants he wore. And a belt. And underwear- fuck, why were either of them dressed, this was infuriating! She was getting mad now, and the deafening cacophony of feelings around her and inside her were blurring her vision and thought, only furthering her madness in identical parallel with her vivacious appetite for the man she was now uncontrollably, almost violently grating against.
The searing heat between her legs and inside her belly. The restlessness in her hands. The not-quite-enough groping on her ass. The varying suckling on her throat. The thick fabric on her body. The aching in her breasts as her nipples, sensitized by the desperate ache of need surging through her body, rubbed against the suddenly coarse fabric of her dress. The disembodied moans of both her and her lover. The sudden loss of control she felt as her hips ground against Loki with a passion so strong it could only be fuelled by the one deeper within her. Her voice was broken and incomplete as she begged,
“Just take off- I- please-” Even she didn’t know what she was trying to say at this point, but Loki seemed to as he fumbled to undo the belt that was around his thin waist, somehow managing to do it with his mouth never leaving the sensitive, throbbing tube that ran through her throat. There was a metal clinking and thick leather shifting before Loki sighed against her very bloodstream, sending the cruelest of rolls throughout her entire body. Valkyrie pulled back from Loki’s maw as she tried to see his manhood, smiling lust-drunkenly when it twitched under her gaze. It was still restricted under a layer of dark grey underwear, but a small, dark dot on the fabric eluded to Loki’s own true hunger.
Valkyrie’s smooth hands immediately pulled down the black waistband, and the large, veiny, reddening cock that twitched under her hot, ravenous gaze caused a manic flick of the Queen’s tongue to poke the edges of her shiny, inviting lips. Her brown eyes, heated with a most romantic lust, peered up from under her sleek, sensually heavy eyelids to the steely-green pair her lover looked down on her so lovingly with. A curt yet nearly wicked smile rested on him. The emotion she felt when his deft tongue ran across his lip caused her heart to all-too readily begin skipping more beats than it hit, hammering her ribcage irregularly but with the force of an iron-ball hammer.
“My dear… “ He began quaintly, though her ears did indeed pick up a decently weighty quiver- a quiver of excitement, and perhaps even a little bit of playful fear- and when she heard her byname, she thought her irises would overtake her scleras. She looked into his eyes, her lust evolving into a primal, insatiable hunger, slowly but surely the longer they stalled.
Valkyrie slipped her slim, silk fingers into the waistband of her lover’s underwear, caressing the pale skin she found. His smile grew only more coy and excited, coaxing her further. She moved her hands to his front, and as her fingers brushed against his godhood she easily allowed her palms to curl around it. A green hue passed over Loki’s eyes, almost magically.
She’d been had.
Loki, the true Loki, suddenly materialized behind her, a very prominent erection also suddenly pressed against the soft, pronounced curve of her butt. The one before vanished with a haze of green light that trapped her against the wall. The sudden stimulation of his erection pressed against her caused a low, rumbling groan of unsatisfied need to quake Valkyrie’s body.
“Bullshit, that’s not fair,” She complained, her hands tense against the wall, nails scraping with desperation, desperation to quell the beating, burning need broiling within her guts. It was tightening with each and every of his thunderous groans.
“You didn’t listen- I asked you to remove it and you didn’t- you just… had to drag it out-” the way he held his ‘h’ with a hot, long sighing growl caused her heart to discernibly stop, her core running and very nearly overflowing with magmatic juices “- I had no choice, Val…” The woman underneath sighed in agitation. She was going to, but she had priorities, dammit. Though, as Loki’s hand caressed her side, she was struck with a sudden fear. Her throat suddenly caught up and she released a breathy, low gasp. She heard Loki chuckle and felt his hand again, this time closer to her side than before.
“I… Don’t,” She threatened, but the sheer sexual desperation in her face forced all of the bite she wanted to inject to remain in the ball in her throat. Loki leaned in closer, pressing himself against her sleek body. His erection was laid between the curves of her butt, but the sensation was muffled by the poofy fabric in between. Now both hands were teasing her soft sides, threatening her with something she viciously hated.
The Queen of New Asgard was very ticklish, especially when she was aroused, as every sense in her body felt dialed up past anything she usually felt.
“Hm. And what if I do…” He paused and ran his hands with a feather touch down to clutch her hips. “My dear?” The tone was salacious and positively filthy, certainly unfit for the ears of the New Asgardian rulers, yet Queen Valkyrie felt her mouth grow somehow warmer and her pussy impossibly more inflamed. Without thinking she responded,
“Neither of us walk for a week.” The statement was final and definitive, yet her tone and a hunger-laden whine near the end when Loki ground his cock against her made it seem more a prophecy than a threat.
“No... That sounds fun, and you know fun tempts me... almost as much as this does,” he moaned, his left hand moving from her hip to her tummy, stroking it carefully. He slowly moved down and brought the mountainous fabric with him as he pushed against his queen’s heated entrance.
“Please,” Now she begged, her sexual desire regrowing in her tone. He sighed with a smile, but devilishly slipped his hands up her ribs, creating a spasm in the Queen’s abdomen and a girlish giggle that was quite out of her character.
“Loki!” She yelled through an involuntary smile, her voice strained and angry, but the rest of her body traitorously quite opposed in a slew of ways. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them, Valkyrie silently swore.
Though, if she knew what was about to happen, she would easily take that back. But for then, for that night, she did not- especially when she managed to turn the tides on her tricky husband- despite his salacious and confident promises of vengeance.
The Next Day
God, her thighs were sore. Not horribly, but the inner muscles felt an amount weak and strained from last night’s events. She wasn’t arguing in the slightest- the warmth that still held deep in her tummy, the glow that clung to her exposed skin, the smile that was constantly on her face, the dark purple and lightly throbbing blotch on the curve of her jugular and the wobble that had been in her walk earlier that morning told everything without a single word.
There was sex, it was rough, she was pleased. The sun beamed down on her, her people and their land gloriously, signifying their grace, their resilience and their might. Granted, they weren’t as mighty as Asgard may once have been, but they remained, refusing to ebb in the face of time or any brutal, bloody hardship.
Valkyrie wore distinctly civilian clothing- a black, longsleeve shirt with a yellow sleeveless waterproof vest, black slacks and knee-high rubber boots- which helped her not only integrate herself with her people- she believed that to be a good leader, she must know the struggles of her people, and she was damn intent on being the best leader she could be- but also be as helpful as possible in the dockwork her people did so diligently.
Now, she stood amongst her people on the docks as they reeled in their fishing nets- made out of thick but biodegradable rope- hauled in traded goods, wheeled out the hauls on carts to the people in the city square of New Asgard and whatever else the people needed done. She helped where she could, wherever there was room to help, and she had been since early that morning. It was now just past noon- with the sun shining down blissfully, fueling their efforts- and the Queen felt… Good, productive, helpful, all she wished to be when she took on the role of Valkyrie so many centuries ago. She breathed a deep sigh, the unique aroma of her home of over six years now deeply familiar and comforting.
The salty scent of the sea. The somewhat rancid smell of fish. The crisp smell of evergreen trees far leeward. The refreshing scent of cool glaciers far, far away but brought by swirling ocean currents. Norway. It was beautiful, in some ways far more than Asgard could ever hope to be.
“My Queen, a beast’s come in from the boat lure! Deep sea, my Queen- it’s a fighter!” One of the fishermen called to her from a group, handling one of the large nets that were cast into the vast ocean before them. The net seemed to withhold something quite strong- so strong, three Asgardians couldn’t reel it forth. Valkyrie smiled as she jogged to the net, taking one of the leather handholds in either of her skilled, calloused hands. With a nod to what seemed to be the impromptu leader of the group, there was a countdown from three to one before they all gave a hard, collaborated pull. The extra manpower pulled the net in and the four used the momentum to continue. Through her exertion, Valkyrie shouted to some others,
“Hooks!” Three others, wielding thick metal hooks tied to long, half-foot-thick rope began twirling the hooks to build up speed. A few moments later, the three sharp hooks were sailing overhead before landing squarely into the lattice of the net, catching and holding taut. The Queen straightened her stance and tightened her grip for the strain to come.
“Heave!” One of the hookmen shouted. All seven- four on the net and three manning the hooks- began pulling as hard as they could to reel in the mass within the net. Valkyrie couldn’t yet tell what was within, but it was something big. Perhaps a large school, or even a single, very large creature. The Queen, as well as her people, began to grit their teeth from the effort. The net, slowly, began to come closer to shore, but whatever was within was not coming in at all easily. But it was near enough to the shore now that something could be done to ease the struggle.
“Tranks!” The net-leader shouted. Finally, another Asgardian came, wielding what seemed to be a harpoon launcher loaded with what seemed to be a large needle. There was a pressurized blast of air when suddenly the struggle of the beast beneath the surface increased tenfold. Valkyrie and the other three netmen shouted as they were nearly yanked off their feet. Were it not for the Queen’s quick thinking and swordsmanship- as her invincible Dragonfang plunged into the sturdy, immovable dirt- the net would have flown away with the beast.
But now, the Queen felt like her shoulders were to be ripped from her body. Her face was twisted in pain and effort, one hand gripping the rope and the other handling the Dragonfang’s hilt. Her face hardened further as she bore the effort with a combined cry of pain and exertion.
“Ropes!” The leader shouted. Valkyrie heard wild shuffling before her effort suddenly became much easier to manage. The three others manning the net retook their leather holds, easing the load the Queen had to bear. She dug her heels into the dirt and sheathed her blade before retaking her right-hand grip on the net. The leader announced another heave, for which Valkyrie stood again. The seven men and women gave one last, torrential pull. Suddenly, the beast stopped moving, much to the thankfulness of the Queen and her six netmen. However, they were still pulling with all of their combined might, which accidentally yanked the beast entirely onto the dock. A giant, fish-like creature- black, slimy skin covering the main body with a white underbelly and a white portion over the eyes that made them seem far larger- slammed onto the wooden dock like a slab of mud. The creature had the harpoon-needle just plunging the flesh behind the dorsal fin atop its body, barely piercing the layer of blubber and therefore hardly fatal. Within the needle was an incredibly potent tranquilizer to make reeling in large catches, such as this beast, easier.
The Queen panted lightly as she dropped her grips of the net alongside her other netmen. She knew this creature, it was an uncommon but recurring pull from their deep-sea lures. Among torrents of herring and the occasional minke or humpback whale, these “killer” whales were sometimes the largest- this one seemed above average, perhaps the length of nearly four grown men- and its species were some of the most bountiful catches they could secure on their ports.
The beast lay there, salty water spilling onto the dock as the Queen brushed rogue locks of shiny chocolate hair from her face with raw hands. Her people looked to her for confirmation; would they keep this, or throw it back to the ocean and hunt for something else?
“Good. Keep it- shit- and, y’know… Harvest it,” Her brain failed to think of the proper words as something else, something a little more pressing came to the front of her mind and her priorities. All that heaving, all that effort and all that strain brought up a necessary function of her life.
Her bladder.
The people set to work on the beast as the queen turned to a path that led to New Asgard’s main square. Her need was manageable, certainly, but the exertion of the beast’s resistance had an unusually powerful effect on her control. Valkyrie breathed a shallow, tight-lipped sigh as she began back. She waved as her people sparsely moved to and from the dock under their agendas. The ones headed to carried rods, others paddles, some groups even hauling boats and canoes to help the fishing effort, while the ones moving away wheeled shallow carts of fresh herring, trade goods and lumps of fresh whale meat from other catches for refrigeration or packaging.
The Queen paused for a moment and looked over the dock, full of working Asgardians. She felt a swell of pride in her chest as she truly digested the fact that, among everything else, she had helped these people rebuild, she and her King Loki had rebuilt, with the people of Asgard as unbreakable walls, a great nation that was destroyed by unpreventable forces set in motion millennia before they could even be realized into something that not only existed for the sake of existence, but existed in spite of every antagonistic force ever plied to them. She was proud. Proud of herself, proud of her king, but most proud of her people.
‘Oh god,’ she thought to herself, her bladder swelling against her tummy and pressing against her organs with a pinch, ‘How did I get so full?’ Another swell coursed through her being as her bladder pulsed under her belly. Valkyrie bent at her knees, her feet turned in as she rested her palms on her thighs. Oh, it was getting worse, she couldn’t be staring at water right now, not with her bladder aching like it was. She turned on her heel to move to the square, but as if fate hated her…
The path to the square was a hill. Not a brutal one at all, but it was a sure slope that would affect her gait. The queen felt her throat bob unconsciously with a slight disquiet, but she furrowed her brow. Her need wasn’t that bad, and even if it was she would not be defeated by a measly hill, not after the crime ring after-party, not after everything that had happened over her life.
She began her trek, doing her best to not pay any mind to the large ocean to the left of her view. But, every second that she tried her best to not see the bobbing, calm, flowing ocean right next to her, the more it seemed to rise and overtake the horizon. The sky and ocean were very different colours- the sky a clear and serene light blue that brought her peace and calm, but the ocean dark, hazy dark indigo that seemed to be bottomless which brought her deep feelings of worry, light distress, but also… Flow. The ocean bobbed against the skyline, waving and dipping as the waters moved with the swishes of fish deep, deep within and winds from distant, distant air currents, ocean currents and breezes. Flow…
The Queen, only a piddly- no, no that sounded like puddle which is a thought Valkyrie couldn’t bear to think- halfway up the hill, had to stop in her tracks, again bending at the knees and pointing her feet, her hands inching closer and closer to the point she so hoped stayed dry the more she desperately- oh god- tried not to think of the… churning, swirling… flowing ocean next to her-
She groaned through her teeth as a hand actually moved to her slack-censored crotch, squeezing herself to add pressure her urethra refused to offer. All of her mind was making her need so much worse when it really shouldn't have been all that bad. She stood there- thankfully, the traffic of the hill had ceased for now- clasping herself so shamelessly and trying not to let her mind overcome her will not to… fail.
Minutes passed as the Queen struggled to stay upright, groaning to herself. The flare was slowly, slowly subsiding, but the pulsing against her intestines that pushed up and against her stomach was disorienting, painful, catastrophically familiar. No, this would not happen again, she wouldn’t allow it. She grit her teeth- similarly to how she did holding the rope that had enabled all of this in the first place- and stood, powering through her wobbles and cramping spasms. It was getting worse, and she knew the more she stood around the worse it would get. She had to move.
She had to go.
She willed herself, moving all of the strength it didn’t take to walk into her bladder, hopefully fortifying it thoroughly enough that she could make it… Somewhere. Hel, if she got into the square, at least there she could peek behind a building, find a dense shrub or even dart into the forest, but on the trail, where everyone could see her Not an option. So, struggling to regain her mind, she placed one of her feet in front of the other while also keeping her thighs painfully clenched, for she felt if she didn’t there would be… evidence, if not a disaster. Another sturdying puff of air and Valkyrie managed another, more confident step forward, still barely able to separate her thighs- remarkably, her thighs aching and clamping from last night seemed beneficial instead of detrimental now, how the tides- oh goddamnit!- turn sometimes. She smiled through the aching, throbbing sense of her filling bladder at her little revelation before she tightened her thighs, willing her bladder to recede for just five damn minutes. Just enough time to make it up the hill, please.
She managed another step, breathing hard with the effort it suddenly took. Then another, the pressure equalizing and becoming more supportable, just… very slowly. Another, another, another and another until, this time, the step she took was daring; a larger, longer one that required her thighs to separate more cohesively, seemingly a test. Luckily, the pressure had backed down to a point where she could walk almost normally, even if she had to bite her lip harder than what felt comfortable. She smiled and laughed deprecatingly when she felt a slick, hot bead of sweat roll down the back of her soft, strained thigh and into the cave of the back of her knee. This, this- walking, something so simple as bloody walking- was making her sweat? At first, it sounded ridiculous. But, when she considered just how much… cargo she carried, it seemed to reason itself out. Another deep sigh, and with tears of effort barely lining her vision, Valkyrie hardened herself. She was just over halfway now, she was so close.
Breathing heavily and fists clenched so tight her knuckles were going between caramel, yellow, pink and white within seconds of each other, Valkyrie pushed her clenched, locking, tired, aching and straining thighs to push her, she pushed her feet off of the dirt ground, she pushed every muscle in her leg up and forward. Still no one passed her as she did, thank the gods. She dully heard her small feet podding against the dirt compacted so thoroughly by use as blood rushed through her ears and heated her chest with conflicting determination, anxiety, worry, self-assurance and pure will to make it. She nearly fainted when her foot hit the solid, flat ground of the square. She had to bite her lip nearly severingly to keep from laughing to herself. She was going to make it dammit- despite the forces that worked against her! She just needed somewhere private, unpopulated and discrete.
Fast.
The Queen crossed her legs tightly and put her hands on her hips, dedicating almost all of her energy to resist the primal urge to bounce, dance and fidget against the need to… Go. Even with all her efforts, though, she felt her right leg jiggle against the left as surges of desperation and need surged through it from the tight, coiled ball of boiling magma just under her stomach. A blast of panic from the swelling balloon surged through her, causing her legs to lock up further, forcing her to bend at the knees and push her butt out. The surge also caused her hands to tense up and grab the rough fabric of her slacks in a throttlehold sheerly to resist jamming them into her warm, vain and so-far-dry thighs.
This needed to happen now.
Valkyrie didn’t even bother to right her stance- she was confident that, at this point, she really couldn’t- and began panickedly searching the square for something- anything- that had a bathroom that wasn’t someone’s house. Her options were slim- the general store, the meat market and a fishing shop. Nothing that advertised a bathroom and she wasn’t sure she would be able to check to see just to find out there wasn’t one. What had once been a small calling was now true desperation; sweat was beading down her precious, shaking thighs and ever so gently down her forehead, rolling down like the liquid just inside her precious opening so longed to do with a bitterly forceful pressure. Her hands still held her slacks tightly in their iron grip, refusing to let go as if her hands would keep her bladder from erupting. Her teeth were clenched tightest of all, painfully grinding her teeth back into her head.
Nothing, nothing, nothing! Holy shit- fuck it!
With all the speed, power and control the Queen of New Asgard had left in her shaking, desperate and near-collapse body to dart from where she stood to the closest houses. When New Asgard had been built, the first thing that was considered was compactness, so the houses were built rather close to each other, with enough space for fences between properties, allowing- albeit somewhat limited- privacy. The houses she darted between were somehow, magically empty- the right house contained no one, as the previous owners had been wedded and moved to another home, and the left house’s inhabitants were down on the docks.
As she almost collapsed against the house, Valkyrie finally allowed herself to crumble. He hands released her slacks and took a vicious, violent hold on her crotch, clamping down hard on the only exit her bladder had short of exploding outright- which felt very possible now. She let out a garbled mess of sounds; part moan, part groan, part laugh, part sob, part gasp as she did, her thighs trembling helplessly as they resisted the flood she held so passionately within her.
Her hands crept up from her clothed vagina- though a desperate, warning beat of her bladder drew a sorry, sob-like pleading mess of a noise at their absence- to the button of her slacks as they desperately tried to flip the damn button out of the suddenly-far-too-tight slit. She moaned in worry as her thighs shook, her leg bouncing just to try to ward off the flood that was coming, it was so fucking close, just please, let her get her pants off first!
As she struggled, she failed to hear light and plotted footsteps creeping up beside her bouncing, desperate figure. In a fit of sudden rage, Valkyrie peeled herself off the wall and unwittingly turned her back on whoever approached. She moaned again but this was fused with a desperate gasp of success as the button finally popped out of its hole. Her hands shot to her hips and into her slacks and the hem of her dark underwear before madly trying to ruff them down.
Suddenly, two pale and thin hands latched onto Valkyrie’s sides, causing her to gasp and squeak in surprise, jerk her hands out of her pants so hard they almost slapped her in the face- the waistband of her jeans and panties only on the breach of her hipbones, her lusciously dark hair peering from over the band with a tease of the soft, serene lips were buried beneath her healthy patch of thick hair- and, devastatingly, a healthy leak to eject from her with an inaudible jet into her clothes, dying the lap of her slacks an even darker shade, sheening where the liquid trickled further down her thighs. With every ounce of strength she had left- which wasn’t much, rest assured- she halted the spurt, but the damage was done; there was a dark
But, the hands didn’t retract. With a hellish, accented and deep laugh, the hands suddenly tensed and began spasming against Valkyrie’s soft, smooth sides. She squealed loudly, followed by a cacophony of giggles, harsh gasps and desperately sad moans.
Before Valkyrie could turn around and murder whoever was doing this, before she could move- before she could even process her next rapid, laughing breath- all the sounds now encircling her spasming figure were joined and trumped by one that, had she not been laughing uncontrollably, would have petrified her. A steady, violent hkkk, like running water against hard fabric.
Oh no.
Through her giggling and against the tickling that was still assaulting her, Valkyrie managed to look down to her crotch, tears flooding the bottom of her vision.
Her vagina, exposed to open air thanks to her squirming, was hellishly funnelling hot- what seemed to be steaming- urine into her panties and the slacks that contained them. She felt her thighs grow hot, she felt searing drops, rivulets and rivers burning her flesh away as they flew down her calves, tickling her ankles before pooling both in and around her boots. Had she not been under a vicious attack that kept her laughing, fitting and squirming, she would have been mortified. Horrified. The tears in her eyes would be genuine, not forced from laughter she had no reign over. Her sides were electric, sending unpreventable signals dancing through the rest of her body- and they seemed to all be designated to both empty her bladder as soon, hard and loud as possible as well as short-circuit her diaphragm, making any rational breath impossible.
Finally, Valkyrie managed to wrench out of whoever’s grasp she had found herself damningly caught in, turning towards whoever it was but still giggling and shaking from the laughter. Her stream didn’t stop, it didn’t even stutter, it just continued flowing down her legs and onto the ground around her. Her panties were entirely dark with hot liquid and soaked through, her boots flooding already- hell, even the shirt she wore had caught some of the splash from her violent jerking. The hkkk didn’t relent any more than its source did- which, was to say, not at all- and the Queen couldn’t help but laugh and shiver at what was happening. Through her gasps, she managed,
“Oh- oh god, fuck!” Her knees caved inwards and her feet turned in, but the flow only followed her legs, sometimes arching from one fold in her slacks to another. But, despite the giggles and the pain and mortification under it, Valkyrie felt her eyelids flutter closed for but a moment, accompanied by a satisfied moan.
The pressure that had been compacting her tummy so intensely was quickly flooding out of her and into her clothes, amidst her noises and conflicted emotion. It was quickly leaving, quickly allowing her organs to relax. The feeling that grew in her torso as her bladder was squeezed dry could only be akin to a soft, gentle orgasm. Another moan left her lips, followed by giggles, and Queen Valkyrie couldn’t help but embrace the feeling, running her hands through her hair and tangling them, allowing them to rest there. Her head tilted back with a soft, long moan as she pushed hard, just wanting to get this travesty over with so she could kill her attacker with a slight shred of dignity. The hkkk, as violent as it was, grew harder, into a sound that lacked description. It was loud, almost as loud as the Queen herself. It was beyond violent, to the point she thought her slacks would have a hole in them. But, much to her shock, the sound was so intense, so hard, that it aroused her. She opened her eyes, her breathing erratic as she finally got out her last few giggles. Though, as the surprise from the tickling ended, she was overtaken by the shame. Her neck erupted into flame as she looked to her crotch. It was still flooding, fresh piss bubbling in the valley of her clenched, tight, shivering thighs, but the pressure was beginning to die, slowly. The pressure was almost fully gone from her organs, and her bladder was beginning to get a different ache, this one purely of emptiness. It hurt, but not in a bad way. It hurt good.
God, she couldn’t stop it.
Another moan left her, this one almost inaudible as she bent her head back. The shame was harsh, but the pleasure she felt from the fast-enclosing empty and the relief she got from her bladder draining overpowered it. She mewled as she fell against the wall, the now moderately-pressured stream rushing down her left thigh, wrapping around the hot skin in fiery brooks and into her boot, which splashed as it overflowed, warm urine rolling down from the lip of the boot.
Loki was stunned. Truly rooted to the spot. This was not what he meant to do. He thought he’d get the revenge he swore so sweetly the night prior by forcing her to become complete putty in his hands, but this… He couldn’t stop staring as the hot, hot liquid ran down his Queen’s soft thighs before pouring into her slacks and funnelling down her pant legs before bubbling over the lips of her boots and streaming down to the dirt she stood shakily upon. Despite what he wanted to hope to think, he did notice that Valkyrie seemed to… she seemed to be enjoying it. Perhaps not the...accident, but she was enjoying some part of this- if the hazy smile that breached her face and the blissfully closed eyes she sported told him anything.
Valkyrie couldn’t stop another light sigh escaping her. The pressure disappearing was so enticing, so erotic, so vastly different; the liquid and pressure flooding from her body as opposed to the embarrassment flooding into her. Both were so warm- not just warm, hot. The embarrassment was burning her spine, like a string of pure flame was running up and down her gentle, electrified spine, searing her bones with its everlasting imprint.
But the urine that was still gushing out of her with wet, bubbling gurgles against her folded and shaking flesh, running down her leg and setting her skin on fire, was boiling. Heated past any temperature that was attainable through any other means, now rushing from her tired, aching, weakened and so arousingly empty bladder to where it shouldn’t ever have been.
They were both silent- Valkyrie with a soft, absentminded half-smile and Loki with stunned, wide eyes- for the long, noisy seconds that were filled to the brim not with speaking, but rather two sets of intoxicating, deafening pattering; one set was the pee spraying directly into the taut fabric of the queen’s pants and panties while the other was the warm streams running down every fold, every dip and bump in the wet, dark fabric. Every stream glittered a light clear-gold in the soft, rare light that managed to seep into the passageway the king and queen were tucked within. The stream was slowly dying now, the flood that once was, now a decently-pressured rush pouring from her soft, shiny pink lips, bordered by the dark, meaty flesh of her crotch and the shiny, curly thicket of hair.
Valkyrie rolled again the wall when the stream waving from her opening sputtered as she tried to clench her thighs, but they were too weak and almost gave out. She finally, feeling her thighs ache with tire, allowed her muscles to relax. Her shielded pussy emerged from the tight ‘v’ her muscles tautness had created, allowing the weakening flow to spread out over both of her legs. The narrow rivers of hot pee ran down her, passing through the overly waterlogged fabrics of her panties and slacks and into her boots, which already contained their own warm lakes of pee. What ever rolled over the edge of her boots just cascaded down into the slim muddy puddle that was growing around her. The hkkk was now a gurgling, messy hscch as it smacked the wet fabric below the soaked, dripping lips its liquid raunchily spurted out of.
Loki watched intensely as the stream grew thinner and thinner, staring shamelessly as it dribbled small orbs of glittering urine down wet tracks on his Queen’s thighs, catching glimpses of light in artistically perfect ways, like a painting created by a most watchful eye that caught every detail, every glitter, every dripping, steaming, thin stream of pee rolling down the soft, meaty caramel thighs that were still lightly shaking from the exertion that had gone through- first the fishing ropes, then the sheer will of holding back her flood and finally, the effort to limit her battering loss of control.
Slowly, the two stood as the flow became silent. Only the gentle trickling babble of small, thin streams dripping down her thick and well-muscled thighs and calves, with barely noticeable glitters of fresh-running pee peeking through her slacks. It was years, solid, dense, silent and tumultuous years before the stream, already thin, weak and bare, became soft, boiling drops rolling down, barely affecting the dark and water-dense fabrics or the pools in her boots.
The silence rang in Valkyrie’s ears almost as much as the ensuing shame did as the ache, deep and thick in her bladder caused the pleasure seeping into her tummy created a light and airy sense in her head, making her almost dizzy. She pried her eyes open, her vision blurry with tears of relief.
Loki’s steel-green eyes met her wet and earthy eyes, his filled with surprise, worry and a slight bit of curiosity. After all he had just seen- caused, by accident- he had… just so many damn questions. Valkyrie’s lungs felt empty, breath stolen by the shame, pleasure and relief of her bladder’s unintentional release. As she looked to Loki, her mind’s airiness slowly began fading, allowing her mind to function through the mud her mix of emotions had created. The first thing that created a spark in her mind;
Rage.
She cried out, her voice rough and tainted by a fading sigh of relief, and tried to dash forward in a tackle. But her legs were shaking, weak and fluttery, too tired to fully support her weight. She began to collapse, her boots sliding in the warm mud that was beneath her. Loki, sensing his wife’s sudden anger, dashed to her form and caught her, easing her in a careful, supporting grip. But, as both his arms were underneath her, she couldn’t do anything to repel a limp-wristed slap against his pale, sharp-boned cheek.
“You son of a…” She breathed out, her eyes hazy and clouded. She made a few more noises that sounded like they were trying to be more insults, but died on her relieved breathlessness. A few moments of her chest rising and falling passed, with Valkyrie’s butt dropping to the cool, solid dirt as she laid her tired body on her husband’s lap.
“Why…” She sighed, her eyes growing a little more angry with her question. Loki grinned sheepishly and moved a hand to caress his queen’s cheek. He wanted the surprise attack to be his sworn vengeance, but he hadn’t foreseen her bursting to pee. But, despite it all, despite her wrath he knew was well incoming, he felt… calm. From her moans and sighs, she had been desperate, and despite the somewhat rushed manner in which she released her balloon full of liquid tension, she seemed… Not happy about it, but blissfully relieved. Loki’s smile grew as he held his wife, his queen, his lover and his beautifully tired woman closer, thinking of just what to retort her with. He placed a gentle, feather-light kiss across her lips and, without any more thinking, whispered;
“Revenge, love. My beautiful, desperate revenge. I swore it, and I keep promises.”
“Dick.”
“Mm, that could be arranged.”
“You’re mean.”
“Oh, it’s not my fault you’re ticklish…”
Wow, it's been a while. Apologies, I'm working through a lot of stuff; my burnout, some personal stuff, procrastination and everything else that every writer ever has experienced. Regardless, off all of the negative shit that 2020's grand coronavirus dealt to the world, I can say that I myself have vastly improved in my writing, so... Nothing major in the grand scheme of things. Regardless, I promise I am working at this "series", just... At a sad pace.
If you have a character you'd like to see have an accident, please feel free to request them- even if they've already been written for. If you have scenarios or something similar, you can also suggest those- or both if you so wish (as long as they adhere to the rules listed in the first post of this forum). If you have any characters that aren't already in the list of requestable characters, feel free to suggest them, and once I complete at least one piece for all current characters, they may be added to the roster.
Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed. This one was a messy production- I wrote sixty-five percent of it in about a single night- but the ending product is pretty decent, at least I think. But. regardless, thank you for reading and for hopefully enjoying. I probably won't be able to make another one of these for a while, so I'll say this now; Happy holidays, whichever you celebrate (and if you don't... I don't know, have a good day), happy New Year's, and here's hoping that 2021 is a bit easier.
Happy Holidays, All.
Best regards, bow to none,
NothingLeft |
Jane Foster
I Don't Care!
Saskatchewan, Canada
“Jane, why does everywhere in Canada have something named after royalty?” Darcy asked from the backseat of the quiet van. She was lying across the seats on her back, throwing and catching a small remote for a device. “Is it because they were part of England?” Jane Foster, acclaimed meteorologist, expert consultant for the government agency, S.W.O.R.D and ex-girlfriend of God Of Thunder, Thor, sat in her van’s front seat, driving down a dusty, empty road in Saskatchewan after conducting a series of experiments around a lake in Prince Albert. Darcy Lewis, who was Jane’s assistant, colleague, best friend and recently-graduated astrophysicist doctor was bored out of her damn mind as she laid across the back seat of Foster’s van.
Jane was quiet for a moment in the driver’s seat, processing what Darcy had asked her. She looked into the rearview mirror to the other woman with a questioning stare. As if she sensed it, Darcy met eyes with her through the mirror. After a moment of staring passed, Darcy threw and caught the remote again before asking,
“What?”
“Darcy, America came from the British, just like Canada.” Jane’s eyes returned to the road, but it wasn’t like there was any substantial threat she would have missed- except for perhaps an animal, there had been several run-ins with those. They had just left Saskatoon, Saskatchewan from their two-way trip to Prince Albert, and were now headed to Moose Jaw, then to Regina to catch a plane back to New York. Needless to say, the Canadian roads were sparse- if not entirely empty. Out one window was a field of maize and out the other was a field filled with rolls of hay, freshly baled. If there was a “middle of nowhere”, this was certainly it.
“Well, yeah I know that, but at least we got our own independence. Doesn’t Canada still have to answer to the Queen, or something?” The woman responded, resuming her tossing of her remote. Jane mulled over the girl’s words, but didn’t get a chance to speak. “‘N, don’t answer that, that was rhetorical.” Jane just scoffed when Darcy sat up with another question.
“And how Canadian is it to name a place frickin’ ‘Moose Jaw’?” Jane smiled as she quickly thought of an answer to that.
“Probably about as American as it is to name a state ‘New Mexico’.” Darcy chuckled at that before flopping back down onto the leather seat of the van. “Where are we?” She asked, craning her neck, but not getting up, to look out Jane’s window despite the fact that the scenery outside hadn’t changed for over twenty minutes. Just the same rolling fields. Jane puffed a breath out.
“Uh…” To tell the entire truth, Jane only knew where they were going, but their current location? A road between two fields, but in a province like Saskatchewan that description was practically useless. “Saskatchewan? We’re on the road, but it’ll probably be another… I don’t know, two hours?” The meteorologist guessed. They had left the town of Saskatoon barely twenty minutes ago after a pit stop for a bite to eat and a bathroom break- of which Jane had to skip because her GPS had started freaking out for some reason- and now it was a long, long drive ahead of them.
“Two hours?” Darcy cried, the remote in the air loosing from her grasp and bouncing on her clothed, substantial chest before clattering to the floor. Her hands moved to her face, running down it as she groaned melodramatically. “Good god… Are we close to another rest stop, or a highway or anything?” Jane looked back to her GPS, but the machine was growing less and less reliable. Sometimes, the dot indicating their location decided to stop moving, to zip ahead or to the side or just move improperly. Jane smacked it somewhat softly with an open hand.
‘Now that did it, Foster.’
Just after her slap, the screen blacked. Jane's eyes went wide, not leaving the screen for a solid thirty seconds. Darcy, perked up from the sound, sat up, putting her weight on her palms behind her as she craned her neck. Her eyes took on a heavy glaze of disbelief when she saw what Jane had done.
“Jane… Did you just kill the gee-pee-ess?” The older woman shook her head, repeatedly opening and closing her mouth as if she had an explanation. Over Jane’s sputtering, Darcy answered her own question. “You killed our GPS. Jane, you-”
“Yes, okay, I didn’t mean to!” Jane sighed, tightening her grip on the wheel before her and resettling her eyes on the dusty Canadian road. “‘N besides, I know our way. Not like there’s many other roads to distract us.” Darcy, releasing another overly theatrical, overly sarcastic groan that held itself for several seconds, collapsed back onto the seat.
“W’ll thank god there was a rest stop!” The woman cried, scouring the floor of the van for the remote she had dropped. Jane looked to the woman through her mirror, her brow knitting.
“What d’you mean?”
Darcy looked up from the floor, meeting Jane’s eyes in the mirror. “I mean that I wouldn’t have been able to hold it for two hours in that state I was in then- I was, like, on the verge there. Wha’did you think?”
Jane was once again speechless at Darcy’s question, indeed not quite sure what she had expected. She broke their gaze, subconsciously rubbing her thighs together. The break of contact allowed Darcy to find the remote she was looking for. Jane had an answer to Darcy's previous question, just not one she felt overly comfortable sharing. She had known Darcy a long time, she loved her dearly, but there were personal things even she didn’t need to know. Jane had a reputation with Darcy to uphold, as between the two of them, she was the more responsible one. The more logical to Darcy’s emotional. The straightforward to Darcy’s sarcastic and veiled. But, an encroaching realization threw much of what Jane thought divided the two of them out the window.
Unlike Darcy, apparently, Jane felt a dull pulse below her beltline. Not a throb, nothing much stronger than a light poke, really, but something that made Jane’s throat dry for a moment. Eventually, she would have to pee, and the sudden dense pull she felt between her hips noted it as something that may happen in the next two hours. Behind Jane, and unaware to her sudden blight, Darcy exclaimed in confidence as she grasped the remote she had dropped- it had tumbled under Jane’s seat- and pulled herself back up. She laid on her back, boredom suddenly growing in her mind.
Jesus, two hours. She really was grateful she had gone at the rest stop, because even then her need had been pretty damn bad. But another two hours? No, not possible, but thanks for asking. Her mind, on the topic of close calls, dredged up a story, and storytelling always murdered her boredom. And besides, Jane had to have gone at that rest stop when she hadn’t been looking, so this would be fine to describe.
“Hey Jane, did I ever tell you about a time I nearly pissed myself?”
Jane nearly swerved off the road, as even the barest mention of… an accident was enough to send her mind off the deep end. Her need was hardly bad enough to warrant worrying about an accident too fruitfully, but mentioning sure wasn’t going to put it to rest.
“Woah! What the hell was that, Jane?” Jane, however, was preoccupied in an attempt to regain her breathing. Her thighs had clamped together, despite her desperation being only moderately noticeable. Jane, thinking quickly of something, anything to explain her swerve, shakily replied,
“Oh, I, uh… squirrel, in the… in the road. She was taken aback by her sudden need, worried and now anxious if they’d make it to Moose Jaw in time for her… need.. “And no, Darcy, I-I don’t think so, but-”
“Oh, w’ll it’s a good one.” Damn you, Darcy. Jane sighed when she acknowledged that there was no stopping Darcy when she wanted to tell a story, it was something she had long become accustomed to. So, she settled for moving a hand from the wheel to just grasping her inner thigh, hoping the story didn’t revolve too much around needing to pee.
“Okay, so, S.W.O.R.D. called for me and this eff-bee-eye guy- who was older than me, but still really cute? Like, he could do this cool magic trick, where he flipped his eye-dee out, that was cool. Anyway, so we had to investigate this weird energy signature in the New York ruins, right? I thought it was just residual Infinity Energy. But, it turns out, when Wanda nearly, y’know, won the whole freakin’ thing, she imbued the ruins with a lot of her red magic stuff.” Darcy leaned back in her seat, playing around almost cluelessly with her remote. Jane steadily breathed a sigh of, perhaps not relief, but something in that vein as Darcy continued on with this rather vanilla story… So far.
“So we collect samples ‘n everything, but then we have to go back and tell them what all our notes mean, cause they’re a bunch ‘a idiots. But, the road back, was way longer than I thought!”
Oh no.
“So before we leave, he goes off to take a leak. I didn’t think the drive would be that long, so I, y’know, didn’t- and besides, I kindah wanted to stick it to the tiny-bladdered -eff-bee-eye guy.” From the backseat Darcy clasped her hands together and leaned forward, tucking the remote against her stomach. “Right, so we’re on the road, just making’ small talk an’ everything, when I feel, this… Like a wave come from my stomach, right?” As if on command, Jane’s bladder pulsed against her belt. She just sucked her lips in and nodded. “And I think ‘Oh, I, er, it can’t be that bad,’' Darcy paused, raising her hands to her temples. “I should’ve known I had to go, because my bladder-” she clenched her fists and spoke through her teeth, despite a laugh coming through her “- is really frickin’ small!" She whined a little bit with her words. "I don’t know what it is, but I just…” She sighed, collecting the proper words. Meanwhile, Jane felt her bladder worm against her belly, tapping against her conscience every so often, just to let her know that this was eventually going to be a problem. Of course, the GPS didn’t work anymore, so she could no longer find out where another rest stop was. Though, there had to be another, right?
Right?
Darcy found her words.
Oh no.
“Doesn’t matter how little I drink, I swear to God it goes right through me! Like, I drink water, and it just drips right into my bladder, y’know?” Jane swallowed, looking into the rearview mirror to Darcy, praying the girl was finished, or would be soon. Jane’s thighs were clenched together, her urethra burning as the constant talk and thought of peeing and sweet release was making Jane so much more desperate so much faster than normal. But, to Jane’s despair, Darcy wasn’t done. Jane knew she wasn’t; Darcy, when she was bored, was a real chatterbox. And she seldom liked to drop topics before she well and deeply conversed most of it.
“What was I… Right- So I feel a wave from my bladder, but I felt so dumb for not going at the site- even though there wasn’t anywhere to go, I am a lady-” 'Yeah, sure, the most ladylike woman I have ever met'.”- so I don’t bring it up. I don’t wanna look like a douche in front of the eff-bee-eye, especially when I’m the one who wasted a chance to whiz.”
It then dawned on Jane, in a case of cosmically bullying irony, that Darcy’s tale and her own predicament seemed to be the same line. Like Darcy, Jane had passed up going at the rest stop, now finding herself in need of another. Underneath the heavy building mass between her thighs, Jane felt a hot streak of shame singe across the back of her neck. Jane wasn’t usually regarded as a shy woman, but she did have some ladylike standards, and she felt foolish for not considering her bladder earlier. How had she even ended up here?
Well… A bottle… No, two… Three? The hours had been a blur, she wasn’t actually sure how much water she had consumed during their little trip for research. But, when the van rocked from a thick stone rolling under the front driver-side tire, the heave and drop of her cautious bladder told her it had been enough to take up considerable space between her legs.
“So,” Darcy continued, looking out the front passenger side window, “I sit in my seat. The road back to the big facility was quiet, we didn’t really talk much after I realized, so I just… sat there, and God, I could only focus on how bad every minute made it. Like, every pothole and rock, I thought I would just… burst, I thought I would just drench the seat!” Oh God. Jane’s jaw tightened, as did her thighs- as tight as they could with her foot on the pedal- at the mention of drench, at the torturous way Darcy dragged it out between her lips. For a moment, Jane swore against whoever the Hell invented the word. Drench. The squelch-y sound it had made her think all too readily of the squelch of wet fabric- which was a thought very, very unconducive to her objective right now.
‘Don’t drench the seat.’ She thought evocatively, though the mind’s pronunciation of the word created a dull, bubbling pang below her stomach. Snapping back to the present, Jane could only bate her breath, nodding to Darcy’s words. She didn’t want to cut Darcy off, she felt she had been snappy enough at the lake as it had been. But, she had been too nonverbal for Darcy not to notice something- for how often she seemed to be unobservant, she often proved the opposite quite a bit more.
“Mm-hm.” Jane mumbled with taut lips. “So, how did you… make it?” She chose her wording carefully, feeling her free leg jiggle in a twitch of building need. Her palm clutched her thigh a little tighter.
“Mm? Well, when we were getting close, it was getting really hard to hold it-” 'Oh god, don’t say that! That’s the worst thing you could say! Don’t say that again!' “- so I was getting really bouncy,” Darcy bounced in her seat, likely for emphasis. “Oh, but it was hurting by then. There was one rock, actually, where I felt a little leak out- oh God, I felt so embarrassed! He couldn’t see it, but just the thought of ‘oh crap, I just peed myself a little!’”
Jane’s eyes shot open, her knuckles cracking when they gripped the steering wheel. Her world slowed down, like the ultimate clock was being pulled back. The van was silent, Darcy had disappeared, Saskatchewan was a distant thought. Jane felt her pulse against her temples. In her chest. Behind her eyes. In her fingers. In her toes. In her tongue. In her hips, her bladder and her urethra. She felt her tongue suddenly suck every possible atom of moisture from her mouth and her throat. But, on top of all the senses she had blasting through her body, they were deafened by one silent sensation;
A spider-like tickle wrapped down her thigh, scalding wetness soaking into her panties as it pooled in the crease between her butt and the meat of her thigh. It hardly blotted her panties, never in a thousand years visible on her jeans, but Darcy’s words, the words that had so damningly sparked the trickle, rang true through the meteorologist’s mind:
‘Oh my god, I just pissed myself a little.’
Jane was suddenly slingshot back into her seat. Darcy’s voice reappeared. The whispering sound of her van’s tires on cracked, rough concrete. The sensation of moisture in her mouth, the seat on her back…
The liquid ever so lightly moistening her crotch.
“From there, I swear to God, my body tried to give up. Every bump after that, it was like being stabbed,” she spoke through her teeth, “and I’m pretty sure I leaked every other stab. Luckily, none made it through… In the van, at least.”
‘Darcy, please, I love you, but stop, please!’
“Finally, after feeling my lady bits heat up like a furnace, he stops the truck. He hops out, but I’m there another thirty seconds. Y’know, I’d open my thighs, and then Niagara. Game over, man. I get myself together, and slowly get out. I just… Couldn’t anymore.”
‘BAD DARCY, DON’T SAY IT.’
“I stood there, in the middle of a government-owned parking lot, my hands in my crotch as I try not to explode. I couldn’t move, I felt like it was right there, I felt like I was screwed!” Jane felt her bladder throb, Darcy’s vivid explanation only intensifying her need. “But, there were these big metal crates, real close together, but big enough to fit between,” ‘Oh God, Darcy, stop fucking talking.’ “I was barely holding it just standing there, no way in Hell I was getting to a bathroom.” Jane’s heart sunk at the words, hoping her eventuality would end differently from Darcy’s tale.
“So, I pretty much booked it.” Darcy popped her lips, folding her hands before her and suddenly becoming very fascinated by the remote in her lap once more, though she didn’t touch it. “Big mistake. The entire time, there was leak after leak. It felt like pouring boiling water on my lady bits, it sucked.” Oh, Jane only knew too well how much it sucked, as she barely stifled a whine when another leak sprouted from her slowly tiring lips. “By the time I got there, it already looked like I hadn’t made it.” The girl moved her hands, running them on the insides of her thighs to illustrate her words. “It was aaaaall down my thighs- and it was so freakin’ warm, my butt was on fire, and I swear my kidneys were drowning. By then, I couldn’t stop leaking.” Jane hissed, almost inaudibly, when a leak- longer and hotter than the others- pierced through her quivering defenses. Darcy was making her situation worse and worse, and if this kept up, soon there wouldn’t be a bladder situation for her to escalate.
“Y’know when you were a kid, and you would try and stop the faucet with your hand?” Jane cringed at the comparison, nodding through the constriction in her tummy. Darcy hissed through her teeth before whispering, “yeah, it was like that. So, pretty much already… y’know, flooding, I just shoved my pants down, and…”
The moan that left Darcy, filled with relief as she flopped against the back of her seat. Her head fell back, her eyes closed in the sheer euphoria of remembrance. Her lips, shiny and red, parted, her tongue resting nearly dead still at the edge of her mouth. Her hands fell to her thighs, gripping the substantial meat with raking nails. “And god, the sound,” she emphasized, her eyes staying closed. With her mouth, Darcy reenacted a violent, rupturing hiss; wet, hard and relieving. Jane couldn’t stop it.
There was a violent push from her bladder, all too eager to mimic the sound. It was hellish, beyond all description except esoteric. Darcy didn’t hear it, but it was all Jane could hear. A thick, sultry, fervid squirt of molten urine splattered into the seat of Jane’s panties. But it was just a little too much. With wide eyes, Jane stared in boiling mortification as a dark spot, highlighted by an incandescent glow of light, suddenly soaked into the crotch of her jeans, widely seeping deeper and darkening her butt. A clench, harder than any she had ever naturally had to muster in her goddamn life, stopped what- perhaps once, could have been a manageable load- was now a writhing, searing, angry balloon of magmatic urine, spreading her hips apart like a god’s most intense force, with the intention of escaping her whether she was in the right place for it or not.
“Oh, god, I didn’ care that, like, half of it got on my pants.” She snorted before correcting herself. “In my pants, because I didn’t actually squat down or anything. I just… stood there, with everything out in the open as this lava-hot pee just… flew down my legs. The feeling of my bladder getting smaller and smaller as everything drained out, it was like…” The girl stopped herself with a blissed groan, pausing her words for a moment, as if she had almost said something she’d regret. “It felt really, really damn good.”
Jane couldn’t stop herself, her propriety collapsing around her as another leak threatened the cracking dam that was her exhausting urethra- which itself ached, tired of holding back what was now compressing all her organs. Her bladder was pulsing every minute, the sheer amount within it forcing her kidneys into her stomach, her stomach into her lungs, and her lungs against the back of her throat. Her left hand fell from the steering wheel to clasp itself against her crotch. She squeezed herself, no longer giving even a fraction of a damn about what Darcy thought. The pressure her hand gave her dampened gates was relieving, but the feeling of her palm growing hot and wet was vomit-inducing. Just as fast as it fell, her hand wrapped around the bottom of the wheel again, ripping away to fortification she felt her urethra burn without.
Darcy’s brow furrowed when Jane squeaked in desperation. “Are you okay, Jane?” The meteorologist couldn’t help herself anymore. She snapped.
“No, Darcy! Your… goddamn story is about to make me piss myself!” There was a quiver in her voice that stole all bite and prowess from her words, but the venom remained toxic. Darcy’s eyes widened and her frame seemed to shrink against the seat.
“I- what? What d’you mean?”
“I mean that I’m on the verge of soaking the… fucking van, Darcy!” The girl’s mouth opened with a question.
“Wha, already? Did you go at the rest stop?” The embarrassment of admittance crept back up on her, but Jane was too far gone to care.
“I… No, Darcy, I had to fix the damn-” she slapped the GPS “- thing! I-” A pulse came from her bladder, trying to usher out more of her boiling, turbulent piss “- mmm! No, no I didn’t!”
“W’ll Jesus Jane, don’t get snappy with me just because you didn’t go! Jesus- do you know where another stop is?”
“No, no I don’t! Oh, God…” She squeezed harder, her hands as tense as they could be against both the steering wheel and her throbbing, breaking floodgate. “Oh, god, oh god, oh god!” She sucked her lips in, her eyes burning as tears of pain began to build in the corners of her eyes. Jane did her best to keep her eyes on the road, but the pressure below her tummy was getting so distracting. Luckily, even though it was slow, Jane felt that, without Darcy’s inducing storytelling, her desperation was beginning to chip off of itself, slowly returning to a lesser sensation. Even with that, it was… Well... slow.
Jane’s breathing was hard, nearly as hard as her grip. Said grip was one of such ferocity that it threatened to tear not only her clothes, but also the flesh- the same flesh that was growing hotter and hotter as the vociferous bubbling inside her thrashed and whipped at her bladder’s walls to escape. Her thighs, clamped like an oyster’s shell around her hand, were barely able to keep steady, the muscles shivering with a failing focus to keep steady. Her left was clutched to the seat while her right was painfully extended to keep the van moving. The sensation inside her was hard to define, even harder to describe. It was tense, but tense couldn’t quite describe it. It was hard, tight. Her muscles, the walls of her gradually diminishing bladder, her grip, her breathing, it was all hard. It was all tight, like all the muscles in her body had to focus solely on keeping her writhing urine from waterlogging the seat beneath her. It felt like her entire body, every atom that made it up, was in its own vice, squeezing every part of her to try and keep what was turmoiling within her just that;
Within her.
But slowly, the magmatically heated piss broiling in the dense stone that was her bladder was slowly coming down from it’s boil, slowly backing away from its throbbing exit. The bubbling that once felt as if it were frothing against the backs of her eyes was lowering back down her body, but still weighed against her tummy. The line of her jeans was pressing perfectly against the hard surface of her bladder, in a way that pierced her flesh with a twinge of pain whenever she moved. Jane was quietly relieved when her desperation began turning down, but she hissed through her teeth when her bladder pushed against her organs again. Her muscles did their best, but the slightest string of pee surged out, teasing Jane’s clenched thighs with what seems to be a promised fate.
‘Darcy knows, there’s no point in hiding it.’ Her mind whispered, and her body agreeing all too fast. Her left hand- which she noticed, in some nebulous void of her mind, had never left her darkened jeans- clenched harder, as if trying to use the heat of her desperation to fuse her lips together.
though, a sensation now readily making itself known. She felt the burning, tearing claws digging in her bladder soften, but still wrack her taut urethra for escape. She still had to pee, and sooner rather than later was preferable, but for now, she could manage.
Hopefully.
Apparently, during her struggling, Darcy had been speaking.
“Okay, okay. Just pull over, Jane!” Jane’s face lost an amount of colour at the suggestion that was pronounced more like a command. Sure, there were no cars passing on the road, but what if one were to pass? She was an acclaimed meteorologist that proves wormholes through time and space existed, she would not have some sordid fourteen-second of her releasing her bladder besmirch her reputation, Even if that didn’t happen, Jane admittedly had little practice urinating anywhere that wasn’t a toilet- ‘Excusing a few certain situations…' Jane shuddered as she reminded herself- and she knew with a solemn stab from her bladder that, if she tried, her jeans we would surely come out of it looking like she hadn’t even tried to save them at all. And, on top of this all, she had nothing to wipe herself with, even if she could avoid all other disaster. Simply put, there was just no way to just pull over, even though the idea of release was helplessly tantalizing.
Spch, another small splash of liquid heat rolling along the meat of her core. Damn.
To distract herself, Jane began squeezing her pulsing, tiring opening rhythmically, like a slowed heartbeat. Eventually, after a few moments of awkwardness, when Jane could feel Darcy’s eyes boring into her skull, Jane’s breathing fell in sync with her repetitious grabbing. In, squeeze. Out, let go. In, squeeze. Out, let go. It felt like it was working, like the rock that was gradually gaining weight from being trapped on the verge of escape was being lifted ever so slightly. A few minutes of her steady gripping slowly began to edge her desperation back, thank God. But, the more she did it, the more she ground away the constant ache of her rock-hard tummy, the more a horrifying feeling in the pit of her stomach took its place.
It has started with one of the strokes, and it was growing with every subsequent. Her belly was growing a second kind of warm, one she was mortified she was even experiencing. Her crotch, despite the warmth that seemed eternally radiating and the heat from what had unfortunately escaped her strained muscles, was growing warm. A deft stroke that she was sure she hadn’t performed made Jane suck in her bottom lip just a bit. Another, more daring stroke just to be sure the pressure inside her wasn’t driving her crazy, and she knew.
‘I think I’m getting horny.’ It nearly devastated her, but not enough as much as it baffled her. She then recalled a certain line of text she had read in many a smutty magazine when she had been younger, more uninformed of her own pleasure.
‘A full bladder during sex makes your orgasm so much better!’ She would have laughed to herself had she not remembered the line almost right after as well;
‘Just don’t wet the bed when you do!’
Jane swallowed a lump in her throat as the realization settled. She was slowly but surely getting turned on by the pressure of her steaming urine pressing against her clitoris, she was rubbing herself- only making it worse, no doubt about that- but she knew that if she stopped, her desperation would return. Perhaps stronger. Perhaps… Unstoppable, and that… Well, that just couldn’t happen. Not here. Not when driving, not in the van.
Not in front of Darcy.
Weighing her options with her neck inflamed with embarrassment, Jane quickly found her answer. She couldn’t stop, she couldn’t afford that. But, she had to pace herself better. She couldn’t allow her mind to dip too far into perversion and pool deeper into arousal- she didn’t want to know what would happen were she to accidentally climax from rubbing herself just a little too enthusiastically.
So, there Jane Foster sat, a small marsh of her own urine slowly cooling as it squished under her every move, slowly clenching her vagina to quell a raging sea of fire that bubbled and frothed within a stone in her tummy; and, to top it off, she was beginning to get off on it. In the face of pure shame, Jane stopped gripping herself, placing her now slightly shaking hand on her thigh. Slowly, the arousal that had come to bleed into her nether’s lips faded, leaving only the natural heat and the dying heat of piss. Slowly, slowly.
Immediately.
Immediately, Jane was whacked with it. Her legs clamped with a muffled clap- when did they part?- her eyes widened, her grips on the wheel and her thigh turned haggard and strangling, and the most devastating…
An audible, visible, sensible spurt.
The slight stain grew just a bit, the edges of her jeans’ urine-bridled creases shining, glowing in the Canadian sunlight as fresh, blistering piss seared her flesh, easily passing through her underwear as if it hadn’t been there at all- ‘No doubt now waterlogged, that might be why,’-.and the meteorologist’s only reaction was to reach back between her legs, grip her vagina with a vengeance and squeeze as hard as possible.
The sound that raptured out of her throat was an abomination, a melted, illegally-bred hybrid of so many different things; Pain, her bladder was getting to the point where the desperation wasn’t fake anymore, she actually needed to pee now, and holding it in was starting to hurt. Pleasure, the pressure on her clitoris was twisting her mind, reminding her just how good it felt to grab and stroke the sensitive, inflamed lips that were her only safeguard. Disappointment, as messed up as it was, the release- that brief, devastating little squirt of lava- felt so good, it was almost regrettable to stop. Mortification, almost the heaviest. She sat, in her van, in a back road in fucking Canada, in a growing puddle of her own fresh and cooling urine whilst her best friend watched, uncomfortable and disturbed.
“Fuh- Oh, god!” Her words were half strained, half moaned as she clenched her hands and her thighs as hard as she could, looking through crinkled and teary vision to keep the van on the road. Who she was speaking to was unclear, but Darcy was at least one of them. “I’m- fuck, ohhhmygod, I’m sorry Darcy!”
There was still wide-eyed silence from Darcy. She blinked, slowly and multiple times- as if she didn’t have half the brilliant mind she did. Finally, she heard her name, and that was enough to warrant an almost drunken response.
“Uh-huh.”
What?
She was… So confused. And worried. She had… kind of caused this- though, with how bad it seemed, maybe this was gonna be inevitable. Whatever the outcome… Darcy was just… shocked. Shocked that a lady as uptight as Jane freakin’ Foster was clearly bursting at the seams with pee. It was weird, like she had fallen into the Twilight Zone. Was she asleep? Was she dreaming? Was this all some simulation- what the hell was going on? ‘I’m sorry Darcy,’ Still, nothing seemed to want to process. There was a wall in her brain at the moment. She blinked a few more times- four, to be exact. How did she know so exactly? Well, her realization came in just as many stages.
The first was that this was reality. This was actually happening, and Jane was actually, in real life, about to completely wet herself, about to have a serious accident. Okay, noted. Two; She, Darcy Lewis, had caused that, with a story how she had also, totally wet herself- though, not directly sooo… Three; They were in the middle of practically nowhere, meaning a toilet just… had to appear for her… Maybe? And four, the final layer of her reality; The accident was coming, soon, and she was just… watching. Morbid curiosity. Within her, Darcy was fighting a battle. A battle of her empathy versus her carnivorous curiosity. She wanted Jane to make it, she did. But, on the other hand…
What would her reaction be? If she didn’t make it? Would she cry? Would she get mad? Would she straight-up pass out? The curiosity was killing her, slowly, and she was legitimately torn on which option she favoured more- she didn’t have a piss kink (she was… ninety-five percent sure, she was just really curious... and a little cruel, but a little's okay, right?) but… she just wanted to know. It was a curse.
“For what?” Her subconscious just barely managed to autopilot, despite the inner war.
“I- just, this! I… Oh, fuh- Jesus!” She was panting and breathing heavily, her hand tensing and relaxing around her crotch in a rapid and seemingly random manner. For a moment, Darcy allowed herself to wonder if Jane was doing that to quell the desperation or to quell a ‘lil somethin else. Jane moaned though sucked lips, bouncing herself in her seat.
Like a robot, Darcy’s eyes unfocused, before honing in on something in the distance. Still with a blank stare, she grabbed the two seat heads in front of her and pulled herself forward, doing her best to get a better look. A small smile.
“Mm- oh fuck, no, I hav’to pull over-!”
“Wait, waitwaitwait! Jane, there’s a stop, there!” Darcy’s small hand pierced through the van, nearly prodding the windshield as she pointed to a small, wooden building blanched from the sunlight. She had seen an aluminum can wedged between the ruts of the rusted tin roof glint in the sun. Through her blur, Jane could spot, indeed, bathrooms.
‘Oh, thank God!’ She gasped in her head, squeezing her core in thankfulness. The tinge of arousal began to creep up again, filling her chest with uneasy and uncomfortable butterflies. ‘Release,’ was her mind’s only thought.
A bit too early, as a sizeable spatter of piss blew out of her throbbing, aching, sore, tired urethra. It lasted longer than what was conducive, growing the dark patch under her fist that Darcy suddenly watched with saucer plate eyes. The feeling of hot piss coating her hand was disgusting, but she was so close that she could deal with it, she could take the minor loss in return for an overall victory over her goddamn GPS.
Darcy didn’t return to her seat, staring at Jane’s pelvis with a twisted obsession. The closer she looked, the more she noticed fine, subtle details of Jane’s pure desperation; Her fist was obvious, as was the constant jiggling and bouncing. The dark spot was even more obvious, but Darcy noticed, under the brown leather jacket and the navy blue shirt that was tucked into her jeans- ‘oh shit, that might be wet too...’- Jane wore, and along the beltline of her jeans, there was the slightest bulge against her toned stomach. A very, very small distention, an itty-bitty rounding.
‘Holy shit, she must be so fucking FULL.’ Darcy mused, her mind’s voice sounding almost haughty at the thought. A particularly pained moan threw Darcy back, her neck fleshing red from below her own jacket and shirt. What the hell was wrong with her right now? From her position, Darcy felt the need to fuel Jane’s motivation, as if to convince Jane that she was cheering a victory, not a failure.
‘Which am I actually cheering for, though?’ She thought uncomfortably.
“C’mon Jane, just hold it a little longer. Y’can do this!” Jane laughed brokenly, halfway between crying and moaning in pain and pleasure. Sweat was beading up on her forehead from the sheer heat she was generating. Surely, the piss that was bubbling, foaming and sheerly seething within her could be palpable. Could she muster the muscle power to turn around, Darcy would be sweating as well. Her legs, the thighs were beginning to tire as the building that was her salvation inched closer. She could make out doors, doors on opposite sides of the same wall in a construction that could only be one thing. Her thighs were starting to tremble- and whether it was from anticipation of fully-fledged fatigue, she was close. So. Fucking. Close. The bathrooms couldn’t be more than two-hundred metres now.
Darcy, in a suddenly heroic leap, lunged forward from her seat and unclicked Jane’s seat belt. Without even thinking, Jane dipped and weaved her arms to allow the entrapping cable to fly at lethal speeds into its holster. Not a hundred now. She was so close!
Jane’s foot flew from the gas to the brake, causing the van to lurch and screech, leaving thick black marks behind them. Darcy had to brace herself, clutching onto the backs of both seats to stop from soaring through the glass before her. Jane gasped, moaned and choked simultaneously when a thick squirt Darcy could hear, throwing open her door with the hand that was on the wheel. She turned, but didn’t leap out. She breathed heavily, psyching herself and her bladder up. Slowly, she descended, tantalizingly revealing what Darcy had been so noxiously obsessed with.
Jane’s round, shapely butt- while Darcy was unanimously interested, sexually, in men, she couldn’t help but admit that Jane certainly had a body to be proud of- was stained dark and shiny, as was the seat below. Darcy felt the inherent need to look away, but couldn’t bring herself to. The darkness was like a swirling portal, and as Jane stepped down, Darcy saw another glimmer of motion light up Jane’s thighs.
‘She’s still leaking!’
Jane felt her boots hit concrete and her mind rushed with determination, euphoria and power. She could do it! She could make it, despite the darkness she already had warming her lap seeping into her soul. One shaking step after another, with a fist tacked to hard into her loins she could feel her knuckles leaving their imprint in her bladder itself, she moved. One foot, another. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right, left right, left, right, lef-
Sppchh.
‘Fuck it.’
Like a marathon’s first place racer, Jane began sprinting at levels worthy of Olympic gold. Her strides nearly as long as her whole body, covering so much distance she was sure to make it.
All the while, a dark trail dripped and dribbled behind her.
Jane collided with the building at speeds that nearly caused her to lose control then and there. With no shred of care left within her withering patience and time, Jane thrusted both her hands into her lap, clutching herself as hard as she could through her tight jeans. Her mind flashing with an idea she couldn’t resist in her failing mental state. She pressed as hard as she could and ran her hand up her core, harshing a moan from her throat. The pleasure shocked her system, her clitoris nearly short-circuiting from all the stimulus as she pressed singularly on the button of nerves that had to be glowing red.
And soaking wet.
Jane threw her body to the left, towards the women’s room. She collapsed against a swinging door, but it didn’t budge. She pressed and pressed, but it just didn't fucking move. Through teary-eyed confusion, she managed to look up at a nailed wooden notice sign.
‘BURST PIPE,
OUT OF ORDER
-Apologies, mgmt’
No.
No, she didn’t battle pissing her fucking pants to be denied so easily. So, with the will of the sun itself, Jane heaved her weakening body off of the door, turning to the other. Her legs were shivering, bound to collapse in the slightest moment of errance. But, using the wall to keep upright, she moved, feeling another fiery splurt cascade down her thighs, her calves and into her boots.
“Jane, what the Hell are you doing? You can’t go in there!”
Jane suddenly bubbled with rage.
“I don’t care, Darcy!”
The push of her yelling.
Oh, god…
‘You can’t go in there!’
She felt dizzy.
‘Can’t go in there!’
Her head was spinning.
‘Go!’
Go.
Go...
Oh... Oh no...
Oh...
Oh, god...
Oh yes...
Oh GOD yes...
“I, ffffuck...”
It was hellacious. Jane collapsed, her knees tight together as the muscles in her legs finally gave out. She fell against the wall, resting her head as her eyes rolled back, the entire system being bathed in a concoction of ambiguous intoxicating sensations- almost all of them novel.
The first she found was the sharp pains, almost like her monthly cramps. But, the more she considered, the lesser they became. Alongside, there was a tickle, like a feather being rubbed along her most intimate parts. The cramp suddenly disappeared, as did the tickle…
Only to be replaced by scalding. Hot. Wet. Loud. Like a cup of water poured onto the floor, but more… Fleshy. Hissing. Brutal. She hazarded a look down. Spouting, flooding in her lap was dark. Her jeans’ fair shade of blade was rapidly turning something more akin to the deep ocean, with shining highlights bringing an angelic beauty.
Hkkkkkkkk. It went on. And on. Jane’s eyes fluttered, her head began filling with air again. Her breathing got heavier and heavier, like there was iron building in her lungs. Eventually, there were more sensations.
The hotness soaring and soaking everything in proximity to her legs- God, it felt so warm, so fucking hot- coating her calves, pooling around her with a symphony of distractingly beautiful noises. Already, her panties and jeans were beyond saturated, allowing the harshly steaming urine to just run through all fabric, collecting immediately into the puddle that was quickly enveloping her. The sheer volume of the liquid draining out of her widened, relieved urethra was drowning the red button that had helped prevent it in the first place. A button that just demanded to be pressed.
Still heavily pissing straight into her pants, Jane clumsily unbuttoned them- so clumsily that the button flew off into the void of nothing around her, Jane’s hand- the same she had plastered to her vagina, already soaked with desperately held urine- dove straight into her panties, stroking through the hellishly overflooding torrent of piss and directly onto the sensitive, swollen bundle of nerves. Jane opened her eyes to see it, hazily curious just how red it was.
Oh, it was red. Very red. And shiny. And the way that the urine, so shiny in the sunlight, glittered as it waterfall from her pussy was so pretty that she couldn’t help but giggle to herself as if she were drunk. But the redness of her clitoris- it was so desperate for touch, she could feel her heartbeat in it, which was fucking frantic- was too tantalizing to be distracted for long. Jane raked, slowly, her fingers through the boiling deluge, her head falling back, her eyes squeezing shut and her tongue lolling out just a bit with a relieved, horny moan as the piss splattered and sputtered noisily, not stopping its intensity though. Without a care, Jane ran rabid, fervent circles over the button with two fingers. The combination of her bladder deflating with such force, the absolute heat she had between her legs, the feeling of such euphoria and relief and now the spastic friction on her most sensitive nub drove her over the edge of the fucking cliff.
Jane sobbed as she gripped her bare pussy, hindering the spray with an unholy sound that sent even more shivers up and down her spine. Her vagina’s tightening did next to nothing to stop the flow that still burned from her. Her lungs heaving, their weight draining out of her bladder with conviction, Jane felt every muscle she had weaken. Her head collapsed against the wall, her hand went limp in her jeans, still being doused with what blurrily felt like a slightly fading spurting, and her eyes repeatedly tried to flutter closed. Jane sighed in relief, her brain too fuzzy to actually comprehend.
The last thing her mind deciphered before she blacked out was a small creep of shame and Darcy calling her name.
She honestly didn't care.
Here you are, @LifeIsStrange, your requested Jane Foster piece. I'm sorry it took so long, I am legitimately trying to get help getting over my paralytic fear. If you're wondering why Darcy wasn't also included, I have a list of MCU women- and a few requested characters- that I'm considering adding after the fabled Line-Up piece is published. In the meantime, you can expect the requested Vanessa Carysle piece sometime before 2024- though I wouldn't hold out hope- to help get us closer to that goal. From there, I'm considering either Ava Starr or Emma Frost for personal projects- given no other requests come in. As always, feel free to request any character on the list, even if they've been done before, and any parameters you wish as long as they adhere to the rules. Regardless, I'm sorry for the wait LifeIsStrange, but I hope this pleases the readership. Anyway, I have some issues to sort, so have a good day or night all.
Best regards, bow to none,
NothingLeft |
Thanks to ShadowPhantom for making this character and letting me use him. If you want to know more about his “king title” check out ShadowPhantom’s interactively “Make em Pee.”
Nathan’s Best Day Ever
Nathan awoke to the familiar feeling of his bladder giving out, and he knew right away he had an accident in his bed. He laid there and allowed himself to finish peeing; after all, he was already peeing, so why not finish.
Nathan shivered as the pee, and cold air hit him as he wore only briefs to bed. After he finished peeing, he looked at his phone to see the time; It was 3 am. He pulled his sheets back to look at the damage; his black briefs were soaked, and his light blue sheets had a painfully obvious pee stain, almost as big as him.
He couldn’t believe he was still having accidents at age 19, but at the same time, Nathan loved that he was. Nathan decided to have some fun with his Omorashi fetish, and he went back to bed in his soaked bed and briefs.
After 20 minutes, he managed to fall back asleep. Luckily for him, he woke up 5 hours later to his mom at his door, saying she was leaving for a day of shopping and she would be home around 4 so he would be home alone all day. This made Nathan smile as he knew he could have even more fun now with his fetish.
As he heard his mom leave, he jumped out of bed to start his exciting day. He ran out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom and looked at his naked reflection in the mirror, staring at his naked body and soaked black briefs. For a moment, he thought about peeing his briefs again but dismissed the idea as he decided to begin a hold and wanted to make sure he emptied his bladder entirely into the toilet.
He went over to the toilet and removed his wet briefs, and tossed them into the sink. He lifted the toilet lid and started to pee. Once he was done, and sure his bladder was fully emptied, he took a shower, cleaning himself from his bed time accident. After the shower he made his way back to his room, excited for the day ahead of him. As he got to his room, he opened up his closet and put on a new pair of briefs, also black, and some gray sweat shorts. He made his way to the kitchen, forgetting about his other briefs and his bed in his excitement.
As he made his way to the kitchen, he thought about what started this all. He had wet the bed for as long as he could remember. Usually, he could hide it pretty well, but sometimes he couldn’t, and his mom found out about his accident. This is mostly why Nathan wears only his briefs to bed; it made it easier to hide and clean up, besides the fact he likes wearing only his underwear to bed. At first, he didn’t like wetting his bed, but slowly he started to like it and would pee his pants on purpose when he was awake. But he would never do it in public, and he would die if anyone found out besides those that share his interest. This jump-started his fetish in all of this.
Arriving to the kitchen Nathan went to the fridge and got out ten water bottles. Nathan then went to the couch to watch some tv. He looked at the time on his phone, it read 9 am, so he had at least 7 hours until his mom got home. Nathan started drinking his water, starting some more omorashi fun.
He gulped down the first in a few minutes and started a second bottle. He slowly sipped the second, wanting to enjoy the experience. After an hour, his show finished, and he was barley desperate even though he had two out of the ten bottles. So Nathan decided to chug the third water bottle. He finished it in 10 seconds and pulled out his phone and check it. He saw he got a text message from Melissa and opened it to read it:
“Good win the other day” with a laughing face emoji and a heart emoji.
She had an obvious crush on him, and he had an obvious crush on her, so it was strange they haven’t dated yet. Nathan smiled at the text and responded with:
“Well, I couldn’t have done it without your help” with a winky face emoji.
He put his phone down, locking it as he started a new show as well as the fourth water bottle.
About halfway through his tv show, he finished the fourth water and started the fifth water bottle, Feeling himself beginning to get desperate. He slowly drank as he enjoyed the feeling of getting desperate. After he finished the fifth water bottle and another episode of his tv show, he felt a wave of desperation hit him, so he crossed his legs, putting one hand on his knee and squeezed his dick with the other just to be safe. He removed his hand from his crotch and started on bottle six.
His phone rang as his mom called him. Nathan answered the phone, hoping his desperation didn’t show in his voice. He sat there with crossed legs, one hand on his knee while he swings his top foot and one hand holding his phone to his ear. His mom said she would be home around 3:30-4 pm and said, “I love you” to Nathan as he said, “I love you too” and hung up the phone.
It was now 11:41 am, and Nathan drank bottle six as he got more desperate. Nathan crosses his legs tighter, but he knew he could hold on much longer; after all, he was the “holding king,” a title he got from his friend group. He finished bottle six as his show ended. Nathan decided to get up and walk around for a while to see how his bladder did. He uncrossed his legs and stood up to walk around; his bladder only felt slightly uncomfortable.
Nathan walked around randomly for a while and then decided to go the kitchen. He made his way to the kitchen again, and even though he had four water bottles left, Nathan decided to pour himself a glass of water as he wanted to see how his bladder did when he heard water being poured. As he poured the water, he found his legs crossed automatically. Nathan tried to uncross them, but his bladder didn’t like that at all, so Nathan kept them crossed till he finished pouring the glass. He turned off the water and uncrossed his legs, even though his bladder didn’t like it, and made his way back to the couch.
Once there, he sat down, crossing his legs knee over knee tightly right away and took a big sip of his water. Looking at his phone, he saw that it was 1:45 pm. He pushed play and watched his show swinging his top foot, enjoying himself. Nathan knew he was starting to get very desperate, and this turned him on as he couldn’t wait to pee his shorts.
He finished his large glass of water as his phone buzzed again, but this time a text message from his friend Erica. He opened it and read:
“You are lucky you won the other day, I almost had you. I want a rematch!”.
Nathan smiled as he remembered his holding match with her days before.
“You’re on” he sent with a smiley devil face emoji.
Laughing, he locked his phone as he checked the time, it read 2:13 pm. He uncrossed his legs as he grabbed his crotch, looking up at the tv.
He had to grab himself as his need got worse as the pressure on his bladder changed when he uncrossed his legs. He almost gave in, but since he reclaimed his title as “holding king,” he had to live up to it and hold much longer. Surely he could he thought not so sure.
He opened his seventh bottle and started to drink it as fast as he possibly could. He had to have one hand on his crotch while he drank it. Nathan leaned back while drinking as he thought about his first few accidents.
He always had wet the bed, but once he realized he liked doing so, he started to pee in his underwear. This is why he wore briefs; he liked peeing in them verses other underwear, and they were much easier to clean. This eventually led to Nathan peeing his shorts and finally his jeans. Now he loves wetting himself and is even in a group of friends that shares his interest. The group even has holding contest together sometimes.
After he finished bottle seven, he stared on bottle eight right away. Drinking was much more of a challenge now that his bladder was full. He managed to finish it and gulp down bottles nine and ten as well. After all ten bottles plus his cup of water, he was feeling more and more desperate. But he still was determined to last longer, so he got up and made a long, slow, and painful walk to the kitchen to open the fridge and get three more bottles of waters.
As he was walking back to the couch, he felt himself leak, and with his free hand, he grabbed himself to try to stop the flow. He stopped it, but his briefs felt very wet.
Nathan looked down at his pants and was glad no wet spot was visible, but he knew he couldn’t say the same about his briefs.
He sat back down, automatically crossing his legs as tightly as he could. Nathan knew he was at least at a 9.5/10 and wouldn’t last much longer, but he knew he must last as long as he could.
He gulped down one and a half of the bottles before he knew he couldn’t take another sip. Knowing he was at 9.9/10, and his mom would be home soon as it was 3 pm. He decided to go to his room so his pee wouldn’t make a mess on the carpet floor and not risk his mom catching him.
Nathan stood up slowly, and without uncrossing his legs, so he stood with cross legs when he first got up.
Nathan uncrossed his legs, but the switch from sitting to standing and crossed to uncrossed legs and now being at an 11/10, Nathan’s bladder released as he lost the battle he made for himself. Pee soaked his black briefs, making them shine with pee and soaked his gray sweat short as it ran down his legs, shining against his pale legs pooling on the red carpet below.
He felt so relaxed and relived and enjoyed every moment of his own pee escaping his now aching bladder and running against his skin, warming his body. After what seemed like hours, he stopped peeing, and he looked down at his shorts to see the damage he had done.
Pee was still dripping down his legs and onto the red carpet below. As he looked at his shorts, he got what he expected as they were soaked and showed his accident very obviously. After looking at his shorts, he pulled them down to look at his briefs, soaked as well, as well as shined with his freshly hot pee.
He pulled his shorts back up, enjoying the warm wetness of them and looked at the soaked red carpet. Panic and fear arouse in him as he had no idea how to clean a carpeted floor, and he knew if his mom came home, she would know what happened for sure.
He quickly grabbed his phone and sent a text message to his crush, who he knew had the same fetish as him, Melissa.
“Hey, I just did a hold and peed myself, how do I clean a carpeted floor?”
He waited anxiously for a response from her, and when he got one finally, of course, she had to tease him saying:
“What a king you are” with a laughing face emoji.
Of course, she also asked for pictures that Nathan sent of his shorts, briefs, and carpet floor.
Once she saw the carpet floor and how bad it was, she sent her reply immediately on what to do as she knew her crush would be embarrassed If his mom saw any evidence of his “accident.”
Nathan got the text and ran to get the supplies out of the closet and started to clean the carpet. He got the pee-stained carpet cleaned just as he heard his mom’s car pull into the garage.
Realizing he was still in his pee soaked shorts, he ran as fast as he could to his bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it. He then got into the shower fully clothed.
Nathan smiled to himself as he knew that he got away with what he just did and turned on the hot shower water. Nathan got undressed in the running shower then he cleaned himself and his pee soaked clothes.
He got out of the shower and dried off. Nathan wrapped the towel around him as he was about to walk out when to his horror he saw his wet briefs from the night before as he realized his bed still showed painfully obvious evidence of his genuine accident and knew his mom might have seen. His heart felt like it dropped to his feet as he made his slow walk to his room.
Sure enough, when he got to his room, his mom was standing over his bed, looking at it with both her hands on her hips and a disappointed look on her face.
“What’s up, mom” Nathan said shyly as he knew exactly what was up.
She turned around fast, but it seemed so slow to Nathan. She looked at him in his eyes, and Nathan felt like she could be reading his mind.
“Did you have an accident again?”
Nathan was embarrassed and tried to play dumb.
“What kind of accident?”
His mom just rolled her eyes, knowing what Nathan was doing and said:
”Did you pee your bed again, Nathan?”
Nathan turned bright red and felt like he was burning up as sweat and shower water soaked him. He nodded his head slowly. His mom felt sorry as she knew it was an accident, but she also knew he was way too old for this.
“You are nineteen, Nathan, your way to old for this to be still happening! Where are your underwear?!”
She asked in a disappointed tone.
“In the bathroom.”
He responded quietly, not looking up at his mom, not believing he got caught because he forgot, in his own excitement about his bed.
His mom took off his wet sheets and made her way to the bathroom to get his wet briefs without saying another word to him. As she went to get his pee soaked briefs from the restroom, Nathan put on clean clothes, purple briefs, black gym shorts, and a t-shirt as he got a text message from Melissa:
“Did it come out? By the way nice undies!” She said with a winky face.
Nathan turned red in embarrassing after he read he comment about his “undies” and laughed as he wishes that was his only problems and responded:
“It did, thank you, but I have another problem now. Tell you later. I have to go.”
He put his phone in his gym shorts pocket and went to find his mom, as ready as he could be to face her. Nathan found her putting his wet briefs and wet sheets in the wash.
This sight embarrassed him again as he turned bright red once again and started to cry.
His mom saw that and couldn’t help but to go over and hugged him.
“Honey, don’t cry, but you shouldn’t be having accidents like this still at your age. Your nineteen.”
She said as she kissed him on the top of his head, messing up his black hair again.
“Okay,” Nathan said
He smiled since he knew what he did to the carpet was his secret still as well as his omorashi fetish. |
Panicking Pam
Pam opened her fridge and knew right away that the boys had had breakfast already. She picked up the almost empty milk, thankful there was enough for a mug of tea at least. Sitting at the breakfast bar she could see Frank in the makeshift study (previously the laundry room before Covid 19), and in the distance she could see Martin on the laptop lounging in the front room. She could only assume Max was on his xbox in his bedroom as per usual. She had a quick skim through Facebook on her phone and then checked the news while she finished her tea then put on her anorak to take Patch for his walk.
Pam was so thankful to live near a park where Parch could wander at his own pace, sniffing and meandering freely as she walked the standard two mile walk he was so accustomed to. He was getting on in years now and this twice a day walk was more than sufficient but now more than ever Pam was glad she didn’t need to go far. Times were very different to normal and while she used to love seeing familiar people on her twice daily walk now she was glad the park was empty as everyone was living in fear of a deadly virus.
Back home Pam ran the kitchen tap until it ran cold then filled a glass with water and gulped it down. It was surprisingly warm for early April and the anorak had made her sweat. A brief check of the freezer and cupboards before opening the kitchen drawer and grabbing some bags, she popped her head into where Frank was to let him know she was off to brave the supermarket for their once a week shop. Frank kissed her on the cheek and she shouted up to Max and waved to Martin, showing him the bags as he had earphones in, before she headed out the door.
Pam didn’t drive, neither did her partner and neither of her boys were quite old enough for lessons, though both were desperate to learn when they could. Being reliant on buses during a pandemic wasn’t ideal but Pam knew they were still running even if the timetable was reduced. The streets were quiet and otherwise busy roads saw very little traffic and Pam let her mind wander as she waited the 25 minutes for the bus. No-one had joined her at the bus stop and she was just one of three passengers now on the bus.
Sitting on the warm bus taking the familiar twenty minute ride to the supermarket Pam felt a twinge between her legs, thought she simply ignored it as she gathered her bags and purse ready to disembark from the bus.
Pam hadn’t anticipated the scene that awaited her as she walked up the ramp into the supermarket car park. She hadn’t seen this many cars in the car park since the week before Christmas! She headed down the short path towards the main doors her eyes blinking in the sun as it suddenly sank in that the people she could see where actually queuing just to get in! The closer she got the longer the queue seemed as she followed the line of socially distanced strangers silently waiting to enter the store as the line stretched along the side of the store, down the side of the car park, turned round on its self and snaked back again! There must easily be over 100 people in front of her she realised. Noting they all had trolleys already she looked around for the nearest trolley bay and headed to get one. By the time she had a trolley and headed to the queue it had stretched even longer! She joined the end and waited patiently.
Ten minutes later she had barely moved as a store colleague headed along the line offering free bottles of water and an open tub of chocolates for those waiting. Pam was warm so readily took the water and decided a chocolate might help keep her energy up too. By the time she finally reached the edge of the store building she’d drank three quarters of her bottle and felt more frequent familiar urges the same as she had on the bus earlier. Pam checked her watch and realised she had been out the house almost an hour an a half already and still she wasn’t even inside the supermarket yet! Feeling another twinge she moved from one foot to the other as the queue edged slightly forward.
Now able to see inside the store through the long glass windows Pam could see people in masks and gloves working at the checkouts and she hoped it wouldn’t be much longer before they were serving her. She wouldn’t usually ever use the bathrooms in the supermarket, preferring to wait until she was back home, but given the long wait to get in and a potential long wait for a bus back home, combined with the fact she already needed to go, she reasoned she would visit the ladies quickly before doing her shopping.
That thought didn’t help her need to go and she found herself more and more distracted by her bladder as the queue seemed to slow down the closer she got to the entrance. There was now no doubt in her mind that she would definitely find the toilets as soon as she was in as her private areas tingled between her legs and she tapped her foot on the ground anxiously. In front of her a couple stood chatting to each other so much they hadn’t noticed the line move forward. Pam, normally shy and reserved but now very much in need of a toilet, found herself getting annoyed and when they still hadn’t moved 30 seconds later she couldn’t help but say something.
‘Excuse me. Could you move up please!’
It came across more bossy than she meant it but Pam was flustered and stressed, hot and in need of release.
The couple looked back briefly before tutting and moving forward. Pam could count how many were in front of her now but standing right in line of the sun was making her hot and bothered. Despite already really needing to use the ladies she finished the bottle of water she had been given and placed it in the bin as she moved forward a little more. Just five people in front of her now, thank goodness.
Another one in. Then another. Pam was getting anxious. She didn’t want to make it obvious to anyone that she was bursting but standing still wasn’t easy at all. She tapped her foot, curled her toes in her trainers and bit her lip. She couldn’t even remember when she joined the queue because all she could think about now was getting to the loo as soon as she could. Just three in front now. Finally.
As another few left the store the young man in front of the couple was nodded to go in but then Pam watched in horror as a member of staff came closer to the couple and whilst still remaining socially distanced to them the staff member was clearly telling them something they weren’t happy with. Pam silenced her thoughts to overhear.
‘Sorry. It’s one person one trolley. There’s signs all along where you were waiting. I can’t let you both in together I’m afraid.’
‘But we live together for goodness sake! We are married! We always shop together and we have waited almost an hour to get in! Surely you can make an exception? That’s a ridiculous rule! You just let a woman in a minute ago with a baby! You didn’t say the baby needed it’s own trolley did you! You can’t make one of us go to the back of the queue? The frozen food would be defrosted before they even go in the store! Come on!’
Pam moaned under her breath. She didn’t need this and she was sure the store assistant didn’t need it either! Whilst another two customers left out the other door Pam crossed her legs impatiently. Why did she need to be behind an argumentative couple now of all times when she just wanted into the store toilet before shopping! Pam could feel her heart beating faster now as she hated confrontation but mostly because her need to pee was getting stronger by the second. She pulled one leg behind her and bent a little forwards leaning into the trolley. A married woman in her forties should not be pee dancing outside a supermarket and Pam did all she could to disguise her need.
Finally Pam watched as the gentleman in front reluctantly walked away and Pam tried not to look too flustered and panicky as she waited to be told she could enter the store finally. She watched anxiously as another customer left, begging inwardly for the staff member to let her in so she could walk quickly to the ladies.
But she didn’t.
Pam looked at her annoyed and when yet another customer left she found herself getting more and more stressed. Her body was screaming for release and yet here she was at the mercy of a store colleague releasing her to be allowed in. Despite all her efforts to hide her need when another urge came strongly Pam couldn’t stop herself bouncing on her heels and crossing her legs. She had to say something. She had been waiting long enough now.
‘Excuse me. Am I allowed in yet! Sorry to ask it’s just...it’s just I have been waiting a long time and I emm...I have a bus to catch home. Thanks’
‘I’m really sorry. I am just waiting on the gentleman in front of you returning. Apparently he hadn’t realised the rules of one person one trolley so he’s just away to get a trolley then I will let him in and then you. Sorry for your wait madam.’
Pam desperately wanted to argue but the poor store colleague looked tired and stressed. So she tried to hold on just a little bit longer. However, when yet another customer wheeled their full trolley out and she could barely stand still for her need to pee she mustered up the courage to ask again.
‘Sorry to ask again, it’s just that I can’t see him coming back and...actually I really need to use the ladies. Would it be ok if I just headed in and he can come in after me?’
The colleague looked sympathetically at Pam, noticing the strain on her face and how her legs continually tapped. She nodded for her to head in and Pam pushed the trolley fast inside the double doors frantically looking for the toilets. She’d never used them so wasn’t familiar with where they were. It took a few fast paced minutes with her head racing and panic setting in more and more before she finally found them. Pushing the trolley through the first door Pam began dancing more as the thought of imminent release intensified her need to pee. She saw a sign on the gents and baby change but didn’t stop to read them but as she went to push open the ladies door and found it locked she quickly read the sign posted to that door too.
‘Due to the outbreak of Covid 19 and to protect our customers unfortunately these toilets are currently unavailable. We apologise for any inconvenience caused.’
Pam grabbed herself between the legs and moaned. She was absolutely bursting for the loo but with no other shops nearby open and no other toilets therefore available she stood there dancing on the spot with her hand between her legs in an absolute panic of what to do. Getting the bus home wasn’t an option as she needed food for her family and there was no way she would be able to wait for a bus anyway without peeing herself. She had no other option but to try and shop with an over full and desperate bladder.
Pam wanted to cry.
She pushed the trolley back out and into the fruit section quickly putting in bananas, apples, grapes, oranges and pears all whilst trying to stay decent. She walked to the vegetables and put in potatoes, carrots, onions, cauliflower, broccoli and leeks, all the while tapping her foot and biting her lip. She moved to the salad and bent over to put in a bag of mixed leaves, a cucumber, some tomatoes and celery when she felt warm dribbles leak into her knickers.
Standing upright Pam panicked. She urgently HAD to get to a toilet. NOW.
She looked around for a staff member seeing a pizza counter and raced over. Struggling to breathe she jiggled on the spot frantically as she tried to explain quietly that she urgently needed to find a bathroom. The staff member shrugged and apologised saying unfortunately the bathrooms were locked ‘due to Covid’.
Pam panicked as another dribble oozed out of her despite clamping her muscles shut as tightly as she could. Looking around for the quietest aisle she could she raced towards the make up, assuming it was quiet as no-one had anywhere to go currently. Checking no-one else was around she picked up a lipstick and pretended to look at it whilst bending forwards and grabbing herself.
Silently, embarrassingly, Pam stood there helpless with the lipstick tightly in her hand still as another long spurt shot out, running down the inside of her leg and pulling into her sock. This time another spurt followed and Pam couldn’t stop as pee continued to flow freely down her leg squelching in her socks and trainers as her bladder relaxed and pushed the content squashed inside it out finally.
Unable to do much else Pam casually placed the lipstick back on the shelf, pulled her trainer off and poured out the liquid amassed in it under the counter before putting it back on and pushing the trolley to the next aisle where she placed in some sanitary towels, shampoo and shower gel before continuing on with her full weeks grocery shop hoping that with everything else going on in the world right now that no-one would see that she had wet herself in desperation due to the restrictions of a worldwide epidemic.
Everyone would remember the pandemic, thought Pam, but for her it would forever remind her of the panic on finding the ladies locked and what happened as a result. |
Chris cautiously scrolled through images of desperate ladies as he ate his salad. He was wary of getting caught of watching porn at work, but the risks were minimal. His cubicle was at the end of the office, the wall behind him. Almost everyone was out on their lunch break and they wouldn’t be back for thirty minutes, so ten minutes of wet panties for him was only fair.
He was 22 years old- this was his first job out of college. A mere six months ago, he had been the perfect employee- coming to work early, staying late, checking in with his department manager regularly to see if he could help with anything else…
Yes, Maria- his manager. Admittedly, his motivation for wanting to help her was beyond professionalism and career prospects. She was a gorgeous Latina woman in her early-to-mid thirties. She stood 5’8 boasting a curvy hourglass figure with wavy dark brown hair down to her mid-back. Chris had immediately looked for a ring at his interview and then made every effort to get closer to her. Unfortunately, she hadn’t given him much other than a quick smile. Oh, how he would love to have her over at his condo, to reveal his pee kink to her, to have her indulge his dark desires, to make sweet love to her… He had jerked off over and over thinking about desperately soaking her pants in front of him.
Then, one day, her boyfriend came to her office to drop a file off. He was everything Chris had expected and feared. He was a fit, muscular man- well over six feet tall. He was just as cleanly groomed and well dressed as her, wearing an expensive suit and a million-dollar smile. Seeing her kiss him goodbye made Chris’s heart plunge to the depths of his stomach.
Since then, he had significantly disengaged from work. He couldn’t help checking out Maria’s perfect body every time she stepped out of her office, but he had stopped going into her office on a regular basis. Occasionally, she called him in for a brief discussion, but he hadn’t volunteered for extra work. That had left him with breaks through the day to scroll through his favorite websites. Sometimes, he even took his phone into the bathroom to enjoy a workplace wank.
As he finished lunch and diverted his attention away from his phone, Chris’s office phone rang. It was Maria.
“Hi Chris, I need to see you in my office.” Her voice sounded strained, lacking patience. Chris panicked- he still had a semi-erection from watching naughty wetting women moments earlier. He tucked his manhood into the waistband of his dress pants and quickly strode through the office space to Maria’s door at the front.
He pushed open the slightly-ajar door and closed it behind him, obeying his boss’s request. She was seated behind her desk and gestured him to sit down in one of the chairs across her. Chris nervously slid into the chair, the seriousness of the situation fully hitting him. He sensed he might not be leaving her office with his job.
“Chris, I have received complaints from the IT department. It seems someone has been visiting dirty websites at work.”
Chris’s heart fluttered wildly in his chest. How could he have been discovered? He had always used his phone and not his computer!
“I- I don’t know…”
Maria’s lips pursed slightly as she reached for piece of paper and laid it in front of him. He noticed her wiggle in her seat as his gaze hesitantly shifted to the document. There is was- a list of his favorite pee-porn websites, repeating daily for weeks and weeks. Omorashi.org, his go-to website, was listed at least three dozen times.
“I- I…” He was at a loss for words, still bewildered over how he had been discovered.
“Maybe I can spell things out for you, Chris. Last month, IT sent me an email. Someone on our floor was repeatedly visiting these websites during work hours. Of course, I agreed to let them install monitoring software on all the computers here, but the problem continued despite that- someone was using his cell phone. So, I decided to log who was in the office at what time and here we are. You are the only one who consistently matches up with the IT department’s data.”
Oh FUCK, the WiFi! He had logged into the internet on his first day, so he could access the training modules! Since then, his phone had automatically reconnected each time he had come to the office and he had totally missed that when visiting his favorite dirty sites!
In horror, he looked at the sheet in front of him again. It was all there- dates, times, websites. He was a busted man- his face burned red with humiliation. He wished he could sink in to the floor and die- it beat having to face his very attractive boss who now knew all about his dirty fetish.
As she awaited his response, Maria drew a sharp breath and folded her hands on her lap. Her body lifted upwards and her right foot tapped impatiently on the carpet.
Chris finally managed to stammer out a response. “I’m so-sorry. I didn’t know I was connected to…”
Maria inhaled coolly and slowly rolled back her chair. Removing her hands from her lap, she pushed down on the armrests to cautiously lift herself up. She stopped abruptly, before she was fully upright and placed her hands on her desk. She closed her eyes and sighed again before addressing him again, in the same awkward stance. Chris now noticed that there was a giant nearly-empty jug rested on her desk, next to a half-full glass of water.
“Chris… the point is not that you were using company internet. It’s that you were at work… watching girls piss themselves…”
Chris felt his face burn even redder. He tried to pry his eyes away from her, but couldn’t. Her broad hips rocked slightly as her legs scissored in place. Her face glistened with sweat as she looked at him. There was no doubt about it- Chris’s boss needed to use the toilet.
“I’m so sorry…” Chris’s voice trailed off as he observed her desperate struggle against her own bladder. Standing up had made her need immediate, urgent. She crossed one leg over the other and hobbled behind her desk, her high heeled shoes just barely keeping her upright. Trying to maintain professionalism, she addressed her subordinate once again.
“You have crossed… a line here… Chris…”
She struggled to continue and suddenly grabbed her crotch with both hands. She was close to wetting her light grey skirt in her office- too close. Her hips were rocking more dramatically now, as she struggled to maintain control. Chris could only wonder if there was a damp spot on her panties.
A giant tent was poking through his dress pants- there was no hiding his excitement now. He was in a middle of a fantasy he had replayed in his mind countless times. Now that it was happening, he couldn’t believe his eyes- his busty, beautiful, sexy boss was on the verge of peeing herself in front of him.
Maria moaned audibly as she danced helplessly on the spot. Decisively, she lowered her hand down to the hem of her knee-length skirt and reached up to grab her pussy directly. She sighed audibly, finally able to exert direct pressure on her pussy. Chris stared hungrily at her midsection. Her skirt was hiked up and his eyes feasted on her white lingerie panties, clearly visible through her fingers and pantyhose. He couldn’t see any wetness, but that secret was currently covered by her left hand.
Her right hand reached for the glass of water on the table. As she had done countless times that morning, Maria lifted the glass and drained it. Her dancing intensified further as the liquid seemed to flow straight down into her bursting bladder.
“I need to pee! I’m going to wet my panties!” She whispered fiercely, trying to hobble around the desk with an iron grip on her womanhood. As she approached him, Chris saw droplets splashing out from between her fingers to the carpet below. She was wetting herself.
She scrambled to seat herself on his lap as she lost all control. She released her grip and raised her wet hands behind her to clutch Chris’s dirty-blond hair. Her plump ass was planted against his fully erect cock as she soaked her underwear. Her long-held hot waters ran over his lap, through his trousers, and onto the carpet below. He was in heaven, on the verge of exploding in his pants as she moaned softly with immense relief and grinded against his penis. The sweet aroma of her pee filled the office as he compulsively reached around to cradle his boss’s 36D breasts.
She moaned harder as she continued to urinate on him, feeling his hands explore lower. He reached her wet crotch as her stream slowed. His light stroking of her vagina through her undergarments caused her pee to spurt out in bursts. Her rocking intensified and she had to bite down on her lip to prevent her growing sexual excitement from disrupting the office.
Maria finally finished peeing, but he didn’t stop pleasuring her. Her gasps grew louder as his rubbing intensified. Chris brought his free hand up to her mouth and she bit down on his fingers, just barely stifling her orgasmic screams. Then she climaxed- a mere minute after finishing her wetting accident, she creamed her panties. Her grinding against his wet crotch subsided, but her heavy sighs were enough to put him over the edge.
He exploded into his boxers, his manhood still resting against his boss’s perfect ass. A long minute passed as they rested together, still out of breath from the vigorous sexual activity. Then, wordlessly, she rose and straightened out her skirt.
“Look what you’ve done, Chris!” she scolded loudly. “You are completely soaked!”
In shock, Chris realized Maria was speaking loudly enough for everyone outside to hear. He was at a complete loss for words. There was not a hint of visible wetness on his well-dressed boss, but his trousers were visibly soiled.
“That is DISGUSTING! Get out of my office so I can call the janitor!”
Chris’s eyes opened in panic as he realized how screwed he was. He was going to have to walk out of there in wet pants and everyone would think he had peed his pants in the presence of his boss. Not to mention, the twenty-minute bus ride home…
Losing patience, Maria marched to the door and opened it. “OUT! NOW! And don’t forget to clean out your desk!”
Sobbing uncontrollably, he made his way out of her office. Feeling eyes on him and hearing hushed whispers from around the office, he tried to quickly pack his things. Maria left her door open as she made an animated call to the janitor. As Chris was leaving work for the final time, he heard her loudly detailing how an employee had wet himself upon being let go. Giggles echoed through the office, and the streets, as he chose to walk home rather than sit in a public bus with pissed clothes.
The next morning, Chris found a package outside his door. The package held two things. First, it contained a contract for a management position, over twice his old salary, with a consulting firm downtown. Second, it contained a pair of soiled panties- yes, the same white panties which Chris had seen Maria stain yellow the day before.
Edited April 27, 2020 by fullbladder
(see edit history) |
Once i went with my friend and with two girls to a formula 1 GP.
My friend was 2 years older than me and he had a large car for us 4.
We had to start early in the morning, because we had to go for more than 3 hours per car to the racing track.
On the way we had a fast breakfast.
No one of us used the toilet.
It was about 9am as we arrived. Then we had to walk more than half an hour, from the parking lot to our gallery.
We were sitting for 20 minutes and then my friend and I went to buy something to drink.
To day there are a lot of loos at a racing track, but to that time, many years ago, was not even one.
Behind the gallery was a wood, there we did take a piss.
The girls were waiting at the gallery. They did not wee since 5 am.
Our girls was total different.
My friends girl was a little bit plump, but not thick, she had large breasts, a big ass and she was curved.
She did wear shorts and a short shirt. Her belly was nude.
My girl was thin but not really skinny. She had small hips, small breast’s and a cute little ass.
She did wear a short skirt and a shirt.
They were both pretty of their own way.
At noon were our bottles empty, my friend and i went again for something to drink and to eat and again, we pissed in the wood.
We pissed a great amount!
My friend asked me, if i could imagine that our girls, hold all that what we had pissed now and all that what we had pissed in the morning, in their bladders.
“I am curious how long they can stand it, not to wee “ I answered.
”Me too!” he said.
Before the race started at afternoon, we went a third time for something to drink and for a piss.
In the wood, there were a lot of girls squatting and pissing, with their panties down on the knees.
Their bodily needs were stronger than their shyness!
They did let us look between their thighs and one young girl, witch was squatting next to us, looked at us and said “sorry, but i would have done it on the racing track, it was so urgent, my bladder was up to my throat.“
“ You don’t have to be sorry, it was a great show, we loved it, next time again.“said my friend.
We smiled at her and went away.
“Our girls are really good in holding, especially yours, she is so skinny and can hold so much wee inside her.“ he said and told me that i should look at her belly, it is visible swollen from her full bladder.
As soon as we were back, started the race.
They must have been really full after such a long time and after drinking so much, but they did not ask for a loo and we did not ask if they would need one.
It was like „ they were girls and girls have to hold it.“
Nobody cares about a girl‘s full bladder!
Late at afternoon we went back to my friends car.
The girls looked around and we did know it very well, what they were looking for.
No loo all around!
At the parking lot, it was just a meadow, I was needing to pee again, but i did not go.
I did not wanted to animate the girls to squat between the car’s.
I think that they wanted nothing more, to that time, than to wee, but i wanted nothing more, than to get they in the car without a wee.
They did get in with their bladders full.
Normally it would have last 3 hours at home, but it was so much traffic, we did need one hour, just from the parking lot to the motorway.
My girl and i was sitting on the backseat.
On the motorway, i was laying down, my legs on the seat and my head on her thighs .
I pushed her short, little skirt up to her panty and laid with my cheek on the soft skin of her slim thighs.
My nose did tough her panties and i could smell the pussy from girl.
I was rubbing her bare thighs, with my hand and to know that the poor girl must have been bursting full, did make me horny as hell.
I wanted more of it, i could not get enough, she should admit that she is needing to wee, she should tell it to me, i wanted to hear it.
I pressed my head on her swollen belly, first soft. I could hear her moan, just silently and i could feel how she tensed her thigh muscles to hold it in.
I pressed my head harder and harder on her belly on on her bulging bladder.
She was bending over to me and whispered in my ear “i pee my panties if you push my bladder, i need to wee so bad, you can’t even imagine how bad.”
That was like music in my ears and made me nearly cum.
My finger was deep in her slit and my head on her bladder and i can tell you no pillow can be sexier, than a girls swollen bladder!
After about one hour on the motorway, my friends girl said that he should stop anywhere, because she is waiting for so long to pee and now she can’t wait anymore, she absolutely needs to go now.
My friend was quite brutal he said „oh no, i will not stop just to let you pee, you did hold it for so long, i am sure you can hold it for 2 hours more .“
She was a little bit angry and said nothing else than „Sadist!“
I pressed my head hard against my girls bladder and said „I am not a sadist, or?
Both girls had to hold it 2 hours longer until we were at home.
It was Sunday and we had plant that my girl would stay overnight, because it would be late when we arrive.
I told her that my parents don’t like it if someone stays for to night, but they will leave early in the morning tomorrow and if we are quite, they would not know it.
We went to my room and closed the door behind.
”First of all i need to wee.” she whispered.
”I know that you would need to wee “ i said “ but you can’t go to the loo now, you would wake up my parents, you have to hold it until my parents leave tomorrow .”
I stripped my thin girl and laid her in my bed.
Her belly was swollen, her bladder was bulging, her slim legs were crossed and she begged that i should let her wee.
Should i let her? Can she stand all night without to wee? |
AN: Okay so just before we start I wanted to say that I'm not a writer, so don't expect Dicken's level wit or Tolkein level world building. I just had this idea for a story and decided to write about it, and then decided to post it here. It's basically an alternate universe where pee holding has become sort of a sporting event, and as such is going to be relatively outlandish on a conceptual level. I'm sure it's full of grammar errors and other weird writing choices, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.
Chapter 1: High Expectations
From the get go Lily Preston had high expectations placed on her. She always thought her mother and older sister were always tough on her, always pushing her to her limits and making things challenging for her. In hindsight, she was thankful for it, but when she was little it just seemed cruel. There are countless examples of impromptu trials by ordeal throughout childhood, such as the four hour ride up to her grandmother's house when she was in 5th grade. Now, one could blame the 11-year-old for not using the bathroom at the McDonald’s pit stop two hours in, and one could also blame her for gulping down a 30z cup of coke, and going back for a refill. Typically however, a parent would warn their kid against the effects of 30z of a diuretic soft drink combined with another 2 hours on the road, and likely forbid the child from doubling that amount. But Lily’s mom, Molly, was atypical as mother’s go. She simply watched with the softest hint of malice behind her eyes as her daughter foolishly chugged down her second helping of Coke, and as they got up to leave Molly purposefully neglected to recommend that her daughter use the facilities.
The next hour and a half went on rather predictably. What started as Lily silently tapping her foot and rubbing her thighs together quickly evolved into her with both hands jammed into her crotch, legs double crossed as she begged her mother to pull the car over.
“You should’ve gone at the McDonalds.” Her older sister, Jessica, chided mockingly.
“I know! Please mom, I really need to pee!” Lily’s voice shook with desperation as she pleaded for her oh so needed relief.
“Just hold it like a big girl sweetie. Only half an hour to go.” Her mother encouraged.
“I can’t hold it that long! Please, please, please, pleeease pull over.”
“Like your sister said, you should’ve gone at the McDonalds.” Lily knew that her supplication would likely bear no fruit, but she figured it was worth the effort. Her mother wasn’t one to give in to her daughter’s pleas, as she saw teaching her to hold it as one of her motherly duties.
For the next five or so minutes (which felt like an eternity to Lily) the young girl squirmed silently in her seat, breathing heavily and shaking with the effort of holding back nearly 1.8 liters of urine. Jessica, having been in similar situations many times when she was younger, got a kick out of this. While she knew the feeling all too well, it provoked not sympathy but rather sadism to watch her sister bursting for a pee.
After trying her damnedest to contain the imminent flood, Lily could take it no more and began shouting frantically. “MOM I’M SERIOUSLY GONNA PEE MYSELF PLEASE LET ME GO TO THE BATHROOM!”
“Use your inside voice, sweety.” Her mother said calmly, once again a malicious twinkle in her eye. “And don’t pee in the car or you’ll be in big trouble.”
Tears began to well up in Lily’s eyes as she desperately searched for a solution to her predicament. She couldn’t pee in a bathroom, and there was no way in hell she could make it to her grandmother’s house. She knew she was going to pee in the car, no two ways about it, but she couldn’t make a mess lest she be subjected to even stricter bladder training from her mother. She knew the solution, it had been tempting her since they pulled out of the McDonalds parking lot. In the cup holder next to her seat resided the empty cup that contained the Coca-Cola which had been torturing her for so long. It would be embarrassing, but it was either that or soaking her jeans. So be it, from the cup the liquid came, and to the cup it shall return. The speed at which she operated was impressive as she hastily unbuckled her seat belt, dexterously unzipped and pulled down her pants and panties, and positioned herself over the cup.
Jessica turned around from the passenger's seat, an evil grin upon her face as a powerful jet of piss shot out of her sister. Lily began to squeak ecstatically. There would be time for embarrassment in a moment, but for now Lily basked in the rapturous feeling of relief. Looking down however, she realized she needed to take action, as the cup was nearly full and Lily was nowhere near empty. She began to roll down the window as her urine grew closer to the brim. She knew she had to stem the tide just for a moment so she could empty the cup and resume her relief. Once the window was halfway down she removed her hand from the button and jammed it into her crotch, choking off the flow as she dumped half an overfilled bladder’s worth of piss out the window. She then returned the cup to its original position, and once again filled the cup to the brim as she finally emptied herself.
Her cheeks then flushed red as she prepared to endure half an hour of teasing and mocking from her older sister, and worse yet, disappointment from her mother.
Chapter 2: The 1966 International Holding Competition
Let’s back up a bit. Lily was born and raised in Drizzleville, a ridiculously named small town in western Oregon with an even more ridiculous story. You see, one of Drizzleville’s greatest attractions is Saint Fludd’s School for Girls, more commonly referred to as just “Fludd’s”, which over the years has produced some of the most impressive international holders of all time. Understand? No? Okay, let’s back up a little more. Most school’s take pride in their baseball or football teams, some art schools take a lot of pride in theater or orchestra, and a lot of schools place a lot of emphasis on academic achievement or college prep. And while Fludd’s did have a baseball team, a football team, an orchestra, academic clubs, thespians, choir, cheer, the works… It’s main source of pride came in the form of it’s holding competitions.
A lot of girls have come through Fludd’s doors over the years; white, black, and asian; gay and straight; jocks, nerds, goths, preps, and art kids. And as different as they all could seem, they all had one common goal, to learn to hold their piss like a champ. Your reputation at Fludd’s is heavily dependent, if not entirely dependent, on how well you do in the schools holding competitions. Accident prone girls are pariahs, whereas the girls who were practically walking water tanks got showered with praise and inspired endless adoration.
Growing up, Lily had been told endlessly about Saint Fludd’s, and was immediately made aware of the high expectations the women in her family had for her. Championship pee holding had run in the family for generations, ever since her grandmother, whom Lily was named after, won the 1966 International Holding Competition. Everyone in Drizzleville knew the story, Grandma Lily was a legend. Lily Bridge was her name, but everyone in town called her Lily Bulge for reasons that will soon become obvious.
Lily Preston had seen the tape many times, the tape of the live broadcast of the 1966 Competition’s final round. Her 15 year old grandma up on stage against the nine other best high school level holders from around the world, who had collectively already beaten 90 other girls. Whenever her mother would play back the tape, Lily was always astonished at how much she looked like her grandmother. Same wavy brown hair, same nose, same cheekbones, same everything. Her grandmother wore a bright red dress with white polka dots, smiling with that old world charm as the announcer introduced the contestants with an almost comically stereotypical 60s transatlantic accent.
The rules were as follows: as soon as the game starts you have 15 seconds to drink down 250 ml of water, and then you wait for 15 minutes. Once those 15 minutes are up, you have another 15 seconds to drink another 250 ml. And then you hold that for another 15 minutes before drinking again, so on and so forth. Lily had played along many times at home with her mother and older sister. At first she was forced to, but it wasn’t long before she learned to enjoy competitive holding and would willingly join in on the fun.
An hour in, once a liter of water had been consumed, the three girls would all squirm together on the couch as they watched their grandmother do the same on TV. Her eyes went wide as she bit her lower lip and crossed her legs, glancing at her competitors nervously. Another 30 minutes go by and Grandma Lily, along with most of the other girls on stage, has both hands jammed into her crotch, her deer-in-the-headlights look growing more intense. Only one girl seemed composed, an Indian girl who had adopted a mind over matter approach to holding. She simply sat motionless, eyes closed, while meditating and willing her bladder to hold it’s contents.
About 15 minutes later is when the championship holders begin to drop out, the first two contestants soaking their clothes soon after drinking their 1750th milliliter. The jets of piss the losing contestants produce certainly adds to the desperation of their opponents, and it’s not uncommon for all 10 girls to lose control within a few minutes of each other. The pain of hearing her opponent's relief was clear on Grandma Lily’s face, as well as on the faces of her other contestants, but she managed to keep it together. Another 15 minutes go by and the girls hit the two liter mark, and this is where contestants start dropping like flies, or more accurately pissing like racehorses. Five girls, all within a minute of each other, lose it, resulting in a cacophony of moans and five massive puddles.
This is the point where the two sisters typically lose it while playing along at home, but their mother remains strong, channeling the impeccable resolve of Grandma Lily. Only three of the 1966 contestants remain, that being Lily, the Indian girl, and Natasha… The Iron Bladder of Russia, three time champion of the Internationals. No one expected Lily to last much longer, and to come as far as she had was quite the honor, however much to everyone’s surprise she continued to forge on, holding back the flood with all her might.
30 minutes later and it’s easy to see why Lily Bridge became known as Lily Bulge, the 2.5 liters of urine creating a noticeable protrusion in her abdomen, which the camera focused in on, begetting cheers from the crowd. The announcer of the event, who had been asking questions the whole show, asked Lily: “How are you feeling right now?”
“Like a water balloon about to pop.” Lily said in a shaky voice. “I think I might… Be nearing my limit.” And just then the unmistakable sound of water cascading to the ground could be heard, and everyone had assumed that Lily had finally given in. But it was not so, for the Indian girl’s eyes rolled up as she leaned her head back, moaning in ecstasy as the torrent rushed out of her. Her meditation method had worked remarkably well, but had ultimately failed against traditional methods. Now it was just Lily and Natasha, America vs Russia. Needless to say this was quite the spectacle in the 60s.
Molly never made it much further than this, but Grandma Lily continued to hold on for another 30 minutes (She didn’t have to drink any more, being that 2.5 liters was the limit). This was unprecedented in the history of High School holding competitions. Holding abilities of this caliber were typically only seen in Olympic holding events, and were uncommon for amateurs, especially for a 15-year-old freshman. Even for the legendary iron-bladdered Natasha, this was impressive. The room was silent, the announcer had stopped asking questions, and people were tuning in worldwide to see this anomaly of an event.
Finally after a grand total of two hours and thirty-five minutes, the anguished scream of Natasha pierced the room as a lake of piss began to form under her chair. She attempted to stem the flood by clasping her hands on her crotch, but it was too late, she had wet herself and there was no stopping it. Ding Ding Ding. The tournament was over, and Lily was declared the winner. In fact she was the first ever freshman to win at internationals. And not only that, she set a new record for longest hold at the High School level. The crowd roared with applause, the announcer stumbling over his words as he declared her the winner, unable to believe what he was seeing.
At this point Lily could have just let go and pissed herself, but instead decided to further cement her legend by standing and hobbling over to the clear glass toilet bowl in the middle of the room which winners were permitted to use if they so desired. Lily then plopped down on the toilet, lifted her dress, pulled down her lace panties, and a jet of piss like a firehose erupted from her urethra, clearly visible on the translucent toilet. Lily moaned loudly, as she leaned back, placing a hand on her distending bladder bulge as a look of sheer bliss washed over her face.
After that, Lily became not only a local legend, but a world renowned piss holder. Winning all subsequent international events and even going on to become an Olympic holder, winning a gold medal in ‘76. She is the reason why the standard was so high for her granddaughter, Lily Preston. The reason why Molly pushed her daughters so hard, and why she pushed herself so hard all her life. Grandma Lily was the reason Fludd’s was so renowned, and the reason why her daughter Molly attended the school. And she was the reason that Molly forced Jessica to attend the school when she turned fifteen, and why Lily Preston was about to start at Fludd’s tomorrow.
The fifteen-year-old was confident that after years of arduous and incessant bladder training from her mother and older sister, she would be able to succeed at the Fludd’s holding competitions and someday become an Olympic holder just like her grandmother. Of course, she had a long way to go until then, but for now she was content with just being excited to start her first day of high school.
That's all for now. I don't know when (if ever) I'll continue this story, but I'd love to here everyone's thoughts be it praise or harsh criticism. I already have a bit of an idea as to where this story will go (if I do continue it), mainly chronicling Lily's adventures in high school with the occasional flashback to her bladder training throughout childhood. I'd love to have a colorful cast of characters at the high school, so let me know what high school stereotypes you want to see in this story, or let me know what kinds of situations you'd like to see. I can't make any promises but I'm always open to suggestions. Thanks for reading! Peace.
✌️ |
Little Heroines' Room
( I sent this in to the Thomas' Water Resources site for their story of the month contest but the page hasn't been updated in an age. It's revisiting the superhero theme but I figured I shouldn't let the story go to waste. )
I nearly burned out my levitation ring trying to get back to the Hall of Justice after the pitched battle with the Brigade of Terror, but days like this were always worth it. I was the only one in the building, so I had the run of the place. I also knew that not all my superpowered colleagues in the Justice Force would be heading straight here. Some had secret identities to cover for, and would be heading out to assure their normal friends that they were fine. I could wait to do that myself. I really wanted to be here!
Ya see, those gorgeous superwomen in our little group all have a terrible secret, one that I found out on a day I was feeling particularly perverted and did some x-rated peeping in the girls' john at HQ. Here's the secret: those paragons of prowess and prettiness piss themselves. I mean A LOT! It's the costumes, you understand. Those wonderful, tight, revealing, squeezing pieces of fabric tend to get stuck on at the worst possible moments. Add to that the fact that there is only one toilet in the girls' room and the end results can be fantastic. Of course, sometimes the girls soldier on, waiting till they get home or back to their civilian jobs, but it can be truly awe inspiring to watch their desperation at times!
Then of course there are days when they simply can't wait! Like after a huge scuffle. During the battle there's screaming and punching and running and all manner of surprises to get one all worked up, and if the enemy is particularly horrifying bladders can fill in a split second. The men have all got problems like this covered, of course, but the women must look sexy, and therein lies their downfall.
I ran into the girls' room like a kid in a candy store, expecting a wonderful show. I stayed invisible after the battle--invisibility is my main power--and stood behind the john flat against the wall, knowing that even those with super senses can't detect me if I don't move.
I didn't have long to wait, and the opening act was my favorite! Sungirl flew into the room, her toes dangling above the floor five inches or so. Let me describe this vision: She is six feet tall, with unbelievably tanned skin and long wavy blond hair. She's built like a fashion model, with a slim figure that curves in just the right way. Her costume can best be described as a short-legged surf suit, which shines like solid gold and is molded to her physique. Her powers come from the sun, which makes her glow like an angel's halo.
Yet this angel was swearing like the devil when as she tried to get out of the suit. She squirmed in sheer panic as she floated in mid-air. Her legs were twined around each other and she curled up several times, moaning in agony as she tried to loosen the special magnetic fastening strip in the back of her suit. It tended to jam on her when she used her microwave powers, something she'd conveniently forgotten when blasting Vampira with them. Now she sobbed as she bobbed up and down and clawed at the strip with all her might as she spun around over the toilet.
"Nooo!" She moaned as she grabbed her crotch with both hands! The attempt to open the costume had to be abandoned as she needed everything she had just to keep in her piss! She squeezed for dear life, rubbing her thighs together as if trying to start a fire! Then just as she gave up and turned to go, she started to piss, sprinkling her water out between and behind her legs! The gold of her costume turned dark but no less shiny around her sexy ass, and the droplets of tinkle reflected her glow and sparkled all the way to the tile, leaving a glittery reflecting pool under her levitated feet. It took a minute for her to finish, and she floated out of the room with her head bowed in shame.
No sooner did she disappear out of the door than did a blue blur streak in. It was Hypergirl's turn to try to go potty. Hypergirl's another blonde, shorter and more buxom, with glorious tits that strained the fabric of her costume, a long-sleeved, legless blue leotard. It was modified to withstand the friction of her hyperspeed, but the modification wasn't perfect, and the snap crotch at the bottom often got stuck shut. That was probably what was happening now.
Hypergirl's pee-pee dance is always an experience! Imagine about five girls occupying the same space at the same time and all about to pee their panties. I could see her squeezing her pussy at the same time I saw her pulling her slicked back hair and rubbing her shapely thighs together at the same time they were crossed! And the images switched over and over again in a blur of motion that was so bizarre and sexy that the hard-on I had seemed to grow an inch each time I caught a glimpse of the real girl! And her running commentary made it that much better!
"I'm bursting I can't hold it any more I have to piss I have to pee Oh God It's coming out Why won't these stupid snaps work Oh No I can't contain it I'm gonna burst My bladder's bursting I have to go I HAVE TO GO! OH GOD OH GOD! I CAN'T HOLD IT IN! I CAN'T HOLD MY WATER! IT'S COMING OUT!"
It always ends the same way. At the last moment Hypergirl freezes, stands perfectly still in a contorted position (thighs tight together, hands smothering crotch, squatting on haunches), and for a few seconds nothing happens. Then her superfast bladder storms the pee out of her! It's a gush, like the contents of a bucket being tossed out! Her legs are instantly soaked, as well as anything a few feet in front of her, or in this case, the toilet six inches from her knees. She doubled the size of Sungirl's puddle with a loud splash, dousing her hypersneakers and spraying the whole floor!
A few seconds later she was empty. At least it doesn't take long, but it's small comfort for her. Hypergirl stood up and started to cry, still tugging uselessly at the snaps. A thunderous pounding on the door interrupted her self-pity. A husky, sexy alto called through the door: "Hypergirl, please! I need to pee so badly! Hurry, please!" The superheroine turned and shuffled to the door, muttering quietly to herself.
Meanwhile, I was in heaven, because I recognized the alto voice and the pounding! The door flew off the hinges just before Hypergirl reached it, then two impatient arms pulled her out into the hall. Then she trotted in: Olympia! The strongest woman on Earth. Six-feet-six, muscular feminine build, long raven dark hair and green hawkish eyes. She was dancing in place and holding her crotch, biceps flexing under the strain. "Sorry!" She called back to the poor blonde girl, but only half meant it. She danced over to the john and did battle with her own costume.
"Costume" is not really the right word, however. Some time ago, Olympia had found that it was impossible for mere fabric to survive the type of hand to hand combat she was used to, so she sought an alternative. She found that liquid latex laced with powdered steel was ideal! Just paint on the costume, and it stayed through anything. As you might guess, such a trait was one that could be bad at times like these.
There she stood, legs crossed and buns of steel wriggling as she tried with all her might to rip off the latex/steel hotpants that trapped her pussy. I just had to stroke my invisible cock as I watched her alternately pull and claw, then squeeze her puss for a moment before continuing the battle!
It was no use, though, and I got to see one of the rarest sights in the world: The planet'smightiest woman whimpering like a little girl as she strangled her pussy shut and squeezed her hands behind thighs that could turn coal into diamond with the pressure they were applying! Finally she lost the battle, and the force of her piss did what her hands could not! She opened her hands and legs and burst, blasting a jet of piss through the latex/steel crotch of her pants! The impact of her water kicked up tiles and made a holy mess, and didn't stop till she had left the floor flooded with piss an inch deep!
She looked at the mess and left the room sobbing. When her back was turned I moved a little so that no one would see the foot shaped spaces I made in the flood.
When I looked up I was stunned to see who came in next, and I thought the jig was up! She was the one hero that could tell I was in there!
But Mental Maiden seemed preoccupied with her own problem. She was walking in a half-crouch and was massaging her pussy to beat the band. She had the most unforgiving costume of all. It was a panty corset, essentially a single lingerie garment that covered her whole torso. It was bone white, and tied up in the back with what seemed like a hundred laces. What she was thinking when she decided to wear it I'll never know, but it fit her hourglass figure perfectly, and she accessorised it with thigh high spike heeled boots, white hair and a lace mask.
It was the boots that attracted my attention. The latex appendages squeaked like mice as her thighs rubbed frantically together, and she could barely stop wiggling for a second! She tried hard, but couldn't keep both hands free long enough to untie the laces behind her back, and there were so many!
Then I found out she knew I was there! Invisible Man, she called to my mind! Invisible Man! Don't just stand there! Please help me! I have to go really bad!
My hero code didn't let me ignore a damsel in distress, so I went to see if I could undo the ties. I took my time, of course, but even if I had been going as fast as Hypergirl I wouldn't have gotten them all. Only after I'd gotten the first tie, Mental Maiden started quivering and jiggling, shaking her entire body as she tapped on the floor, and her mental powers broadcast her anguish to my mind:
I'm not going to make it! Oh, God! My pee-pee is coming out! Oh, I can feel it!! My pee-pee's coming out!! I'm going to pee-pee in my panties!!!
I couldn't resist! I slid my hand between her crushing thighs and dug up till I reached her crotch, just as a stream of hot piss gushed through the silk of her gusset! I kept my hand there for as long as it took, moving it with her as she shook her ass in a futile attempt to stem the flow! She didn't pee as hard as the others (besides her mind powers she's only human), but it felt like she was holding back a tidal wave. Piss filled the tops of her boots and drizzled into the mess already on the floor!
At long last she stopped, but kept her thighs together, quivering one more time and wetting my hand more with her orgasm! Then she relaxed and dropped to her haunches in the piss on the floor, hanging onto the toilet for balance. Then she raised up her ass and thought to me: Finish what you started!
I didn't need to be told twice! I pulled her crotch aside (not stopping to wonder why she didn't think of that) and braced myself on her body till I could pull myself in! She was wet and sloppy, and she moaned when I entered her. I humped her for all I was worth, splashing the piss around us and making her breasts shake with each thrust! Finally, I shot a blast of cum into her pussy, trying to fill her up with my own invisible juices!
She left the room dripping from her snatch and barely able to balance herself. I stayed a little while longer to see what else might happen. No one else came in. Maybe the rest decided to try and get home, or maybe Mental Maiden warned them off. In any event it was one day in the annals of Justice that would never be topped. |
A Reverie
This story is a continuation of and features a character from a recent scenario in my interactive story called "Make em Pee". You can access it through my profile if you feel curious. Otherwise, enjoy 🙂
His fatigue from the long exhilarating day pulled him into the darkness quicker than most nights, and soon he was in a land that was of his own creation, but not quite indistinguishable from reality.
The walls were a creamy white color that resembled vanilla ice cream, slightly melted from the sweltering summer heat. The floor possessed the same color and the ceiling did as well. The entire room, whose size was difficult to determine, didn’t seem much larger than Nathan’s own room.
As his eyes grew used to the bright luminescence of his surroundings, the furniture present in the room began to emerge from hiding, as its camouflage washed away and shadows betrayed their well-placed positions.
Nathan was at first struck by his initial inability to see it, but now he recognized the furniture placement to be exactly like his room, except everything, to the smallest speck, was painted in the white color. Once he figured out his orientation, he immediately whirled around to face the door which is normally the entrance to his room. However, to his confusion, not only was the door was not white, which jarred his eyes at first, but it was also made of a strange rusted purple metal which reflected the white from the rest of the room in the few spots where corrosion hadn’t invaded.
Despite a tinge of fear, his curiosity dominated, and he went for the handle. No luck. The door was locked shut to the point where the round handle didn’t even make the slightest rotation in either direction. Perhaps though it was only rusted shut, and with enough force, he could make it budge.
Unfortunately, even if that theory was true, his strength proved to be a futile force to the door’s desire to remain closed. Even with both hands on the door turning with all his bodily power, he only managed to break a sweat on his palms rendering them incapable of the task. The room didn’t look too boring though, and with a moment of thought, Nathan recalled that he had quite a few things around that could entertain him, that is, if this room was an exact clone of his actual room and included those items.
He put off the excitement and left his closet for the end of his search, and instead started with his bed. He approached it cautiously, trying to expect the infinite range of possibilities that could happen, but the bed remained a bed and didn’t perform any strange stunts. He placed his hand on the cover blanket, allowing his palms to sink into the soft fur material. Indeed, it was his bed, everything to the smallest detail.
His hopes were up that he might find what he was looking for, which was supposedly hiding under the bed, and so with a swift motion, he dropped his body down into and bend and crouched to look under. He had to squint to see the outline of the objects underneath, but to the relief of his racing heart, everything was present.
At once he turned his heading to the closet knowing with near perfect certainty that he would find it there. He turned his head around, as not to reveal the surprise right away, and cracked open the sliding door gradually, revealing behind its snow-white color, another compartment of white. His heart dropped for a moment as he saw nothing, but then spotted it staring back at him: a large pillow filling half the area of the closet. He reached his arms into it and snatched it away, pulling it from its lodged position out into the center of his room.
With his wishes satisfied, his mind wandered to remind him of his need to pee, which was quite substantial compared to a few minutes earlier when he found himself in the strange place. He demanded that it stop, but his desperation grew at unnatural rates and he soon found himself unable to maintain control without the help of his hand, but as he reached to assist, he noticed he was almost entirely naked save for a pair of gray briefs. With no arousal, his bladder muscles were flexed apprehensively, holding back the seemingly inevitable flood. The bathroom was just down the hall, but the purple door remained a barrier to his saving.
He waddled hopefully towards the door and tried to open it with his free hand once more but was only able to apply a fraction of the force of his previous attempt. Strangely however, the door swung open, as though its weight was only a feather, and Nathan was left staring into the seemingly endless depths of the hall, which compelled his eyes to squint in response to the even brighter glow of the new environment. No shadows were present to give him a perception of dimension, so he was left to blindly travel forth, his memory the sole tool of navigation.
He made the trip thousands of times, so he felt confident in his ability to reach the destination, but the obstacle of his filling bladder was becoming more and more unbearable. He could already see the bulge near his abdomen, growing in size right in front of his eyes. He must’ve drunk a gallon or more for such a quantity to be accumulating. Of course, he had no recollection of what happened before his appearance in the room so he couldn’t know anything for sure.
Now he was only managing to sluggishly inch forth, labored by the weight of the liquids inside of him and the effort his muscles were devoting to contain it. The formerly easy task now appeared to be dauntingly impossible, and as Nathan collapsed to the floor, he officially deemed it as such.
The floor lent him a comforting cool from the heat of the air above, and he suddenly felt it much easier to hold. With the new capability, Nathan started to drag himself across the floor in the direction of the bathroom, nearing it with vexing ineptitude. He had to stop every now and then to feel the walls in order to ensure that he didn’t miss the target, but as he glanced again and again towards the purple door from where he left, he grew frightfully dubious about his progress. The bathroom was supposed to be much closer than he currently found himself. Perhaps he missed it, or perhaps the room was omitted from this strange world.
At that moment, he lost his sense of striving, and being stuck in the middle of a white void, a feeling of disparaging helplessness veiled over his confidence. The puppet master behind the stage left him no choice but to pee himself right where he was. He could not accept it, but just then, he recalled his pillow. With his frantic panic he forgot that the initial reason he was searching for it was because it was his pee pillow. He recalled playing with it all the time especially when his mom left him alone in the house. He now had to turn back and make the same trip a second time with increased difficulty.
Every movement or bend of his body sent sharp attacking waves emitting from his bladder which resonated all throughout his body, and yet, his muscles kept it all at bay. He was clasping at the smooth floor looking for some friction to pull himself forth, but the nervous sweat acted against him, and only caused his hands to slip. He knew that although his bladder muscles had inhuman capabilities, their limit still existed, and with the equally unnatural rate of the filling of his bladder, his defenses were sure to give out soon.
Quivering uneasily, he devised a plan to keep dry in the face of the prodigious opposing force while expediting his approach to the room. With the newfound glimmer of promise, he used his one hand to flip himself onto his back while the other slipped under his underwear to assist the struggling counter force. Though his bladder was no longer pressed against the floor, it was now his abdomen that pushed his bladder unintentionally, subject to gravity, though Nathan payed no heed and proceeded to use his legs as the driving force, bending them and pushing himself back across the slippery floor. It was working, and quite effectively at that, but a sudden moist sensation of warmth on his fingers sent his blood running cold. His current strategy didn’t just undermine his lower fortifications, but it broke them entirely. He was no longer capable of holding it, and as the impatient liquids made a momentary recession, he knew it was only seconds until the flood would unleash.
As panic ravaged through him, he frantically jumped to his feet, hastening the approach of the flood, and broke into a desperate sprint towards his room. His bladder muscles ached acutely and gave in against his command. He was halfway to his destination when he felt warm drops escaping down his legs and pattering against the mysterious white material of the floor.
Once the door was in reach, he leapt through the gap, shutting it violently once he was in. Intermittent spurts graduated into a steady steam, but by then, he had taken his sigh of relief, for he had made it; through and against all odds, he made his destination.
He allowed his body to fall freely into the large soft mass of the pillow. He immediately sank deep into the fluff, all the while his bladder continued its relief, hosing down his underwear and soaking warmly into the material below him with a stream of hissing strength. His mind was inebriated with bliss, and not a single bother could permeate through that shield. His pains dissipated with pleasure as he slowly submerged himself in a pool of yellow. The color stained the white pillow, contradicting the laws of the world he was in, but he did not care. He was drifting away, drowning in happiness.
He wasn’t sure exactly when the transition transpired, but upon opening his eyes, he didn’t find himself surrounded by the blinding whiteness. Instead, he was laying in his bed, in his room, with a strange discomforting sensation all around his crotch. It felt all too familiar, and when the breeze rushed through the open window, coating him with a stinging cold, he knew exactly what had happened. A wary look down his body imparted on him a clear understanding of the situation. He had wet the bed, the night right after his holding contest with his friends. Whether it was the copious amount of water he drank, or the fatigue of his overworked bladder muscles, the result was all the same.
It must’ve happened some time ago since no puddle was present and the usually pleasuring warmth of pee transformed into a displeasing layer of biting frost. The smell was faint, which gave him some relief among the trauma, but the fact remained the same: he should not be having genuine accidents at the age of 19.
He pulled his covers over him, which he had thrown aside in his episode of a dream, and advanced to develop a plan before his mom could enter and catch him vulnerable. He wished this would be the last time he would have to do this, but recalling the joy of his dream, he realized that more was to come.
I certainly don't consider myself an artist, and thus, I would appreciate any constructive criticism that can be offered for the above drawing. |
Hey folks. Just a short story I knocked up a few days back. Hope you enjoy ❤️
The air conditioning hit me like a train coming into the store, it was very warm outside, and I was beginning to perspire, so the welcome breeze was a very pleasant sensation. It was strong though, maybe a little too strong., it nearly blew my skirt up. That would have been embarrassing, the store was busy, and I did not relish the idea of displaying my knickers to the world, I am not that kinda girl. Cause of the perspiration and the general discomfort from the heat, I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up, I was becoming self-conscious and felt the need to take a few minutes to get myself together before continuing my shopping expedition.
The bathroom was on the third floor, tucked away in a side corridor beyond a set of double doors. They were big and well equipped, there were ample stalls for us girls to use and just as many sinks and mirrors for our vanity projects. The bathroom itself was empty, except for me and one other girl who was pruning herself on the far left of the room. I approached the sink on the far right and began brushing my hair and wiping my brow, I splashed a little water onto my neckline to help cool me down and sprayed some deodorant around my person, I didn’t think it was required, but it made me feel a little better anyway.
Ablutions concluded I enter a stall to empty my bladder. I was not very full, but I had just consumed a large takeaway coffee and I wanted to take no chances, coffee tends to rush straight through me, leading to some rather awkward instances. I raised my skirt, pulled my pink, strawberry printed bikini knickers down and did my business. I was surprised, I had felt no particular urge but the moment I raised my skirt, I felt a strong surge of desperation and almost dampened my knickers. The stream was strong too and seemed to last a long time. Where did that come from? I thought to myself. I finished my wee, grabbed my handbag and left the stall, washed my hands, and left the bathroom. Shopping awaited.
I spent a few minutes browsing the gifts section, it was my sister’s birthday soon and whilst I had no plans to buy anything on this day, I wanted some idea for when the time came. There were all kinds of cute gifts that would be perfect for her, I particularly liked the Disney princesses candle set, that is exactly the kind of thing she would love. As I say, I had no plans to buy anything today, but this was just so perfect, I felt it was too good to turn down, so I grabbed a set and headed for the checkout.
The queue was quite small, there were four people in front of me, I do not actually mind long queues cause it gives me an opportunity to browse all the little nik nacks on the shelves around the checkout area. I was particularly keen on the cute socks they often sold around this area, a friend recently bought some cute banana printed socks from here, but I could not see them today. Instead, I gave in to an urge to buy some strawberry jelly sweets, I really shouldn’t have cause whilst they are totally delicious, they are also full of sugar and once I start, the whole pack is gone in minutes.
I got called to checkout number three, the guy serving was cute, exactly the kinda guy I go for but I’m also very shy before I get to know someone, and I found it impossible to make eye contact. He seemed very friendly and he made a nice comment about my great taste in confectionary, I said nothing and just smiled at the floor, this is something I should work on.
“Enjoy your strawbs” he said kindly as I walked off “you too” I said back. Oh great, now I am not just the shy girl, I am the super stupid girl too. Nice work Emily.
I rushed out the store as quickly as my little legs could carry me, I was blushing and felt like everyone was starting at me. They were not of course, but social anxiety is a bitch, pure and simple. I felt like I needed a cold drink to bring me back to earth, so I began searching for a coffee place where I could get a smoothie or something. I passed the coffee place I went to earlier; I didn’t feel like I could go in there again so soon after my first purchase, they would think I was weird, I was sure of it. Luckily, there was another place just down the other end of the mall. It was a short walk and I could feel my rosy cheeks returning to a normal colour now that I had put that store behind me.
There were a lot of people out and about, as there usually are on a Saturday afternoon. Guys being dragged around by their girlfriends, groups of girls laughing and talking way too loudly and kids in pushchairs screaming the place down, a typical day out really. Up ahead I could see an acquaintance of mine, her name is Clara and she’s okay, but she is also totally over the top and way to touchy feely for me. I swerved to the left to try and avoid her sight and ploughed dead straight ahead, never once looking in her direction, if I cant see her, she cannot see me, right? Wrong.
“Ohhh hey Emily!” she called out way too loudly across the mall. “Oh, hey Clara, didn’t see you there” I lied. “What are you doing out and about, you on the prowl?” she asked playfully as she jabbed me vigorously in my arm, it hurt a little. “My sisters’ birthday is coming up and I needed to get her a gift” I said plainly. “Ohhhh cool” she exclaimed way too excitedly. “Listen, I’m meeting up with some of the girls later” she started, and I didn’t like the sound of this one little bit. “wanna tag along? We’ll do some shopping, grab a drink, grab some food and maybe grab a couple guys too, you in?” Absolutely not, is what I wanted to say, I had a prior engagement with my sofa, Netflix, and ice cream. “I’m not sure I can Clara, I’m meant to be taking my brother to his karate lesson later” I lied again. “nonsense!” she exclaimed wildly. “blow it off and come with us, you’ll have much more fun, might even get you hooked up with a cute guy” I really didn’t want to be rude, but at the same time, I just wanted to get out of this situation. “I cant Clara, I’m sorry, maybe another time” I spoke politely, smiled, and walked away. I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my head and I felt a little shamed, but I really could not be doing with her today. I just wanted to do my shopping, grab a drink, and get home to my plushies and sofa.
Still feeling slightly shamed, I entered the coffee shop and ordered a strawberry and banana smoothie. My phone had been vibrating like crazy so I knew I was loaded with messages and notifications so I decided to get my drink to sit in, it would give me a chance to relax a little, clear my phone and return messages before heading into the wilderness again.
I grabbed a seat on single table right next to the wall, I simply cannot sit in the middle of a room, I feel totally exposed and paranoid. I stumbled slightly as I sat down and felt myself blush again, I did not dare scan the room and just stared vaguely at my phone until the feeling passed. Turns out I only had a few messages, most just general chit chat and asking how I am and so on. But I liked it, I like people enquiring about me and my day, it makes me feel important and loved. I returned all the messages I had received and was slowly sipping away at my smoothie. I passed a good half an hour just flicking through social media, returning messages, and sipping at my smoothie.
Drink gone, I grabbed my handbag and headed for the bathroom, I had become quite full quite quickly and I needed to pee pretty bad. I could see the bathroom sign directing me upstairs, so I headed for the stairs and followed the directions. I got confused at the top and went left when I should have gone right, luckily, nobody saw me so that was good. I saw the bathroom door straight ahead, I approached it and pushed. Nothing. Maybe there is someone in? I thought to myself. I spent a couple moments waiting patiently for whoever was in to come out, but I was doing a gentle pee dance and I was becoming more and more urgent. I was trying to stay composed, but it was tough, I really needed to pee, and I could feel my bladder starting to ache and groan at me. Please do not say this is going to be another Piccadilly square incident.
“Can I help you?” a friendly voice called out from behind me, it startled me a little an di had to bear down so I did not leak into my knickers. “I’m just waiting for the bathroom” I answered as calmly as I could manage. “I’m sorry, but the bathrooms are out of order” she replied sympathetically. Oh great, this could be another Piccadilly square then. “Oh okay, well thank you” I said shyly and began making my way towards the stairs. “If you’re desperate, you can use our staff toilets if you like?” she called out. This just made me feel worse, I was now totally paranoid that she had seen me doing a pee dance and I could not face saying yes to the question, so I politely declined and left the shop.
Exiting the shop, I was hit by the warm sunshine pouring in through the glass ceiling, I was only wearing a tank top, but I felt overly hot again, it really was a very warm day. There were bathrooms in another mall a few minutes’ walk away, so I began beating a path towards them. Each step was feeling laboured and my bladder ached each time my foot came down. I tried to walk quickly but that just made the sensation worse and I could feel my muscles beginning to ache and shake a little from the effort it was taking to control my bulging bladder. Every now and then I felt the need to pull over and brace myself for a moment, I was getting stronger and stronger surges of desperation and each one was taking a toll on my ability to control the situation. I was breathing heavily, and I was sure passers-by could see I was in serious desperation mode and not too far away from having an accident.
Up ahead I could see the bathrooms, I felt a little better now I could see them but there was also a sizeable queue outside of girls waiting to get in. I quietly joined the back of the queue and just hoped my turn would come quickly. I couldn’t count the girls in front of me cause my mind could no longer think clearly. I stood with my legs and feet crossed and I was doubled over slightly onto my abdomen. The girls in front were clearly not in the same predicament as me, or if they were, they were doing a damned good job of hiding it. The queue didn’t seem to be moving very fast either, it really felt like it was going to be Piccadilly square all over again. I found the strength to ask the girl in front of me how long she had been waiting, she replied saying ten minutes. It seemed doable, maybe.
I tried to take my mind of my impending accident my messaging friends on my phone, but it wasn’t much use, I couldn’t type coherently, and I was just writing nonsense. I felt totally frustrated that I didn’t live in a world where popping a squat anywhere was acceptable, cause at this moment, that seemed a really good idea. I was inching forward bit by bit, but my bladder was beginning to betray me again. I had to relax my muscles for a moment, just a moment because I was becoming exhausted from the effort it was taking to fight and a trickle of pee left my body and wet my underwear. I bared down again and stopped the torrent in its tracks, but my defences had been breached and a wet patch against my pussy was a constant reminder. I inched forward again and again.
Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, I could see the end of the queue, the light at the end of the tunnel. I smiled to myself briefly as I finally believed I could relieve my bladder and keep my dignity intact at the same time. My phone vibrated again and I quickly checked the screen to see what it was, it was my sister sending me a picture of her dog sat down in a really funny way, I chuckled aloud and my defences were breached again. A stream of pee left my body, pushed through my underwear, and trickled onto the floor beneath me. I looked down, horrified. There were small droplets of pee lying at my feet, noticeable to anyone that was looking hard enough. The light-coloured marble floor was doing nothing to disguise my failure. I glanced around and jammed my right hand into my crotch, my hand became wet with pee and I immediately knew I had leaked more than I thought. My horrified mind ran through Piccadilly square all over again, the shame and embarrassment of wetting my pants in front of all those people, I felt the same was going to happen again. I looked frantically towards the front of the queue and to my absolute delight, I was now at the front of the queue.
I braced myself for one last fight. I could finally see my end goal and the relief it would bring me. All I had to do was wait for one more girl to come out.
Time stood still. My muscles ached, I was shaking uncontrollably, and my wet knickers were now cold and a constant source of irritation and shame. A girl came out. I moved as quickly as I could towards the bathroom, not stopping for anything or anyone. I dashed towards the door and almost pushed it off its hinges. The bathroom was crowded with girls doing their various ablutions and going about their general business. I scanned all the stalls for one that was free. To my abject horror, all were occupied. I frantically glanced from stall to stall looking for an opening, but none seemed to be imminent. The idea of peeing in the sink became appealing, it was a nice thought in that moment, such a nice thought for a moment I forgot myself and leaked again. This one was bigger though and despite my hand holding furiously against my genitals the flow simply sprayed through my hands and splashed onto the marble floor below. Out the corner of my eye, I could see a few girls looking at me, it was an audible splash and it drew the attention of several girls in my immediate vicinity. I blushed red and I could feel tears beginning to wet my eyes. It was happening. I was loosing it. The trickle continued, gently leaving my body, and leaving my wet underwear in its trail. Down below, I could feel the wetness spreading from my pussy towards my bum and before long, I knew this trickle would turn into a torrent. I used every bit of strength I had left to stem the flow and it worked. There was a small puddle beneath my feet, and I knew the other girls had noticed my imminent accident.
A door opened. A girl came out.
I dashed in, I am sure I even pushed her out my way slightly, but I didn’t care, I was too concerned with my own situation then worrying about the personal space of others. I slammed the door behind me, and my hand shook uncontrollably as I fiddled with the lock. My stream started again, violently so. Warm pee gushed out of my body, soaking my strawberry knickers, and thundering onto the marble beneath. I felt pee soak into the top of my shoes and my socks became wet. I had totally lost it. My body had given up the fight and I was wetting myself uncontrollably and I still hadn’t locked the door. Anyone nearby would have heard my pee hitting the floor and anyone immediately outside my stall would see my ever-growing puddle trickling under the door. I managed to lock the door, somehow.
I dived to the toilet and pulled my knickers down, at no point did I stop peeing and as I removed my knickers, pee poured into the seat of my knickers leaving a very visible wet patch and various spots all over the pink material. I sat on the toilet and felt the relief wash over me. The relief was incredible and for a few moments I was transported to another place, somewhere different to this one, everything that had just happened seemed irrelevant. I cannot say how long I was sitting on the toilet peeing, but it felt like a long time.
When my bladder was finally emptied, and the last trickle had left my body I was immediately brought back to reality and the situation I was in. I looked down at my knickers and they were soaked, totally soaked. The gusset had turned dark, as had most of the seat of my knickers. Then I saw my puddle which had began to flow under the door like a small river. I sat staring, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened. I could hear girls talking amongst themselves about me, about how I had wet myself, “poor girl” I heard one of them say.
I did not know what to do. I could not wear these knickers any longer, they were ruined, and I had no desire to walk around smelling of pee all day, but I also did not want to just ditch them. I loved these knickers, they are cute, comfortable and I feel great wearing them. However, I also had no bag to store them in. I did not want to just drop them into my handbag, then everything would smell of pee. Worse still, I had no desire whatsoever to walk around without underwear whilst wearing a skirt, that is a recipe for disaster. I decided to improvise. I rolled off a load of toilet paper and wrapped my knickers up as best I could, the pee was soaking through most of the paper, but it was something at least. The next stage of my plan was to go to a store and buy a new pair of knickers which I could wear for the journey home. First, however, I had to leave the stall.
I used some toilet paper to dab away the pee I had left on the seat. I dabbed my pussy and legs to remove as much wetness as possible. I took several deep breaths, I was still shaking but I was so overcome with relief, I no longer felt totally embarrassed. I opened the door to see a number of girls milling around and more strikingly, a cleaning lady was waiting outside the door to clean up after my accident. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye, particularly the cleaning lady who I felt so bad for. I simply looked at my puddle on the floor, apologised profusely and left the room.
Leaving the bathroom, I could feel eyes burning into my soul. I could hear idle chatter about “that girl just wet herself in there” but somehow, I did not feel humiliated. I felt embarrassed sure, but it was not as bad as the first time in Piccadilly square, guess these things get easier the more regularly they happen.
I went to the first clothing store I could find, grabbed the first pair of comfortable looking knickers I could find, paid, and left. I jumped into my car and drove home, leaving my little mishap behind me. |
“No I don’t want to wear my diapers!” Allegra was fussy today, she got this way from time to time but I was having none of it today.
“Allegra, I don’t care if you wear your diaper or your big girl panties, but these locking plastic panties are going on no matter what. If you choose to not wear a diaper under them that’s fine, but I’m not changing you until bedtime, And if you leak on anything I’m going to be very cross.”
Allison was caught in a trap of her own making. After so vehemently denouncing her diapers, making a 180° turn and asking to be put into them was too much for her pride. So she said “Daddy I’ll be fine, just put me in panties this time.”
“OK baby this time is OK but do you remember the agreement we made?”
“Yes daddy” she said slightly dejectedly, “Diapers on the weekends panties on the weekdays.”
“I’m glad you remember the rules babygirl, so you understand that today is a no toilet day?”
Allison smiled and nodded.
“Go pick out your panties then baby girl”, she excitedly ran to her dresser and pulled out a pair of pink and white striped pair with lace around the edges. “I want to use these daddy. “
I slid them up her legs and follow them closely with the locking plastic panties. as I clicked into place I asked “Baby you didn’t use the bathroom before putting these on, did you need to go?”
The reminder seemed to pain her to her core, as she realized no she hadn’t used her diaper before putting these on.
“Oh well”, I said. “I guess you’ll just have to hold it for the next six-ish hours before bedtime.”
Allegra shrugged and went on her way. I found her a couple of hours later playing video games in front of the TV sitting on the floor, her legs were bouncing.
“Are you winning baby? Yeah she said I’m killing everybody out here!”
“Well, I noticed you hadn’t drank anything all afternoon so I brought you a glass of water please finish it right now.”
She looked at me with a a look that could have curdled milk and said “Gosh daddy you’re so mean!” and upended the class down her throat.
A quick check found that she was still dry, “for now” I thought to myself. I wandered off to play my own games, but set an alarm for myself to check on her in a half hour.
As I came back, glass of water in hand, it had been 4 hours since Allegra was confined to her plastic panties. I saw her pause the game and bend over, the struggle to hold evident in her face and in the fact she hadn’t noticed me coming.
I walked in and she jumped a bit as I surprised her, and her eyes immediately went to the large glass of water in my hand. I nearly quailed at the look she gave me, but Allegra held out her hand without a word, and downed the whole thing when I handed it to her.
I checked Allegra again and there were drips beading on the inside the plastic panties, and her underwear were not dry.
“Been leaking little one? See? This is why you need your diapers!”
“It was just a little bit!” She argued, “I had to let some out to keep holding and not leak everywhere.”
I decided to bring my computer into the living room so I could keep an eye on her while I played my games.
When I looked over next, I saw Allegra kneeling in front of the couch with her legs spread, leaning back on her elbows. Her concentration was on her plastic prison. As she sighed a bit, I saw her start letting out a long stream, which I could hear hitting the plastic and puddling up.
She spurted several times, and intently gauged how much she leaked so that it filled her panties to just below the spot where it would leak out the leg gathers. I could hear the pitch of her stream hitting the puddle getting higher and higher as they filled. Allegra let out a big sigh when she’d finished, but I could tell she still needed to go.
“ You know you won’t be able to sit down anymore with your plastic panties so full” I said from across the room.
“I know”, she said. “But at least I don’t have to go so bad, I’ll just kneel and finish my game.”
I could no longer focus on my game, I just kept watching Allegra and she continued with hers. I could tell periodically that she was leaking some more, she would get very still for a few seconds after squirming almost nonstop.
Allegra still had an hour and a half before bedtime and a change, and I could tell that her need to pee was increasing despite her huge leak earlier, and the evident puddle in her panties.
“Daddy, I still need to go, and I don’t know if I can hold it. I think I need to leak in my panties again, may I please stand in the shower? “
As she said this, I could see one small drip slowly sneaking its way down her leg quickly followed by another two or three drops. She couldn’t even put her hands to her crotch to help hold, as it would spill the lake inside her underwear.
“Daddy, it’s happening please let me stand in the shower before I leak everywhere and need a spanking!”
“OK baby girl, since you’re being so good and asking to leak in the shower you may leak for five seconds standing in the shower let’s go.”
As she slowly stood up two, three, five drops cell from her panties. “Baby girl, make sure you’re not leaking” I said in a singsong voice.
As she slowly hobbled her way to the bathroom I quickly paid a visit to the bedroom where I grabbed one of her nighttime diapers and brought it with me.
I unfolded the diaper and placed it on the bottom of the shower
“OK baby girl, stand on top of your diaper and you may leak. Anything that falls out of your plastic panties will be safely caught in your nighttime diaper!”
“You’re so mean daddy”, was her only reply but I could see the flush rising in her cheeks as she got more and more excited about the thought.
Allegra gingerly stepped into the shower and onto her nighttime diapers then looked up at the ceiling, closed her eyes, and let go with a sigh.
“One 1000, two 1000”, I could hear her counting softly under her breath stretching out the numbers as long as she dared, while an angry hissing and loud splashing, erupted from her crotch.
A river of pee ran down her legs and into her waiting diaper, about 3/4 of it made it to her padding and the rest snaked down the drain.
“Daddy I feel better, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it for another hour and a half.”
“I’ve learned my lesson, may I please be put into my diaper?”
“Not yet baby, I’ll reduce it to an hour but you still have to hold. “
She was disappointed, but she accepted it, especially since she really had been fussy earlier, and that long leak really helped her feel better.
I decided to be nice to her, and pressed my hand against her plastic panties, letting a long stream leak out of them and into the waiting diaper below. Lowering the “water level” quite a bit.
“There you are sweetie! Now you have room for more leaks if you have to go.”
She put a naughty finger to her mouth and I could already see another stream start refilling them a bit.
“Stop that!” I said and gave her a light swat on her behind, “That is just room for emergencies!”
After her time was up, and her underwear full again, I had her waddle back to the bathroom and step into the shower again, where I had her gingerly step out of the plastic panties. I promptly poured their contents into her night diaper.
Allegra was pouty but agreed with me that squishy diapers are better. I then added a stuffer on top of the wet padding and strapped my potty dancing angel into her bedtime underwear, which she promptly soaked. Thanks to the stuffer she didn’t leak, but her diaper was already mostly full.
Afterwards we watched a movie on the couch, cuddled up together. I felt her relax a few more times before it was over.
Once it was bedtime, I carried her up the stairs to our bedroom. “Do you want me to change you before bed?”
She just looked up at me with a sleepy grin, “Daddy, the rule is there can’t be any dry parts on my diapers to get changed. I can wear mine till morning” 😈
-Fin |
Subsets and Splits