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I sort of lost steam on this story but really wanted to finish it, because it was inspired heavily by some of my favorite things - namely XCOM, of course, but also the types of stories blooper writes and the games by LivingInfinite. However, I've lost motivation to write it out in a traditional way, so I'm posting the section I finished and will likely have one more part that I'm going to try to approach in a different manner.
Finally, the three factions were at the meeting point with Pratal Mox, Anastasia, and Yessica coming together on the tracks of an abandoned elevated rail system. Bridget McGregor stood guard by the meeting point, her metal armor showing no signs of her earlier accident. Edwards and Jane Kelly stood on the tracks a little further away, scanning the horizon. Jessie’s pants were drying but still showed a visible stain. Dupont and Jiang kept a lookout on the ground, both glad to be away from the others with their visible accidents.
As Anastasia approached, she broke the silence first, her contempt clear in her voice as she stared at Pratal Mox. “So… ADVENT’s most brutal captain comes to atone for his crimes.”
Pratal did not seem to take it personally. He took off his helmet to show his face. “I am no longer that being. I am free now.”
Anastasia did not seem to be in as diplomatic of a mood. “Taking off that helmet does not change who you are. Reapers have long memories, Elder Kracsad.”
The use of his old name stirred something in Pratal, who readied his gauntlet to strike. In response, Yessica, who was watching passively, activated her own gauntlets, though hers were made of energy rather than metal. Anastasia readied her rifle. Bridget was closest and tried to deescalate, holding Yessica back. Jane and Sgt. Edwards began to rush to the scene to prevent a fight. Before they could, though, Anastasia fired - and hit something behind Mox.
A tall, lanky, purple being became visible and flew backwards before landing on its feet several feet away from the others. A long sword could be seen stored on its back. It hissed, “No one has ever done that before. No one shall ever do that again.”
The being jumped off the rails, turning invisible again. Captain Kelly was bewildered. “What the hell was that?”
Pratal Mox replied, “Vox Prima. Elder Assassin. Relentless death that stalks my kind. Butcher of freed ADVENT.”
Anastasia took position by the railing of the train tracks. “My people face another like her. They are the undying, ADVENT’s curse upon us.”
Yessica took a defensive position as well. “We must combine strength if we are to have any chance of success.”
The XCOM agents also locked down, scanning every nook and cranny to see where the Elder Assassin would come from next. The eerie silence had every agent on edge. In the distance, the howl of a Lost horde could be heard. Some agents, like Dupont, were trembling visibly with fear.
The Assassin appeared suddenly on the train tracks beside Sgt. Edwards. She screamed as the Assassin swung her sword. Edwards jumped back and fell on her back but crucially dodged most of the sword, her armor taking the blow from the tip of the sword as Jane Kelly, Mox, and Anastasia fired. Before any of them could land a hit, the Assassin disappeared again and ran off. Edwards lay on the ground, aware that the rest of her bladder was emptying and she was laying in a growing puddle. She got up, her butt and back darkened by wetness. A churning in her stomach told her a different accident was on its way if she was frightened again.
Jane Kelly shouted, “Where did it go?”
Mox replied, “She was headed back down before she cloaked.”
“Got it. Dupont and Jiang, search the area beneath the tracks!”
Dupont and Jiang acknowledged the command and began sweeping the area. In the silence, they could hear the Lost horde coming closer. They had a limited window to beat this fight. Despite having already wet herself, Dupont was unconsciously leaking slowly in fear again as she swung her shotgun left and right, a part of her praying Jiang was the one who found the Assassin.
Jiang’s scream a moment later made clear that came true. Jiang looked behind a pillar for the elevated rail and the Assassin leaped out, sword in hand. Jiang began peeing forcefully as she fired wildly, trying to keep the Assassin at bay. Dupont put her fear aside and ran to her aid, firing as she got closer and ignoring the lump swinging in the seat of her pants.
The Assassin swung her blade, not piercing Jiang but hitting her hard enough that she flew into a car and passed out. Dupont was now only a couple feet from the Assassin and fired point blank. The Assassin had time to stab at Dupont but missed, the shotgun shell knocking her back. The Assassin flipped back and disappeared again, having taken a hit.
Dupont sighed a breath of relief and turned to check on Jiang before realizing the blade did graze her hip, causing no damage but cutting open her pants. She also realized she had involuntarily pooped even more in the attack, and the combined weight of her accidents plus the damage to her pants caused them to fall, revealing her very messy full cut white underwear. She pulled her pants up, ears bright red, and laid beside Jiang. She communicated over the radio, “Jiang is out but okay, I’ll stay down here and guard her. She disappeared but I think is headed back up.”
The five soldiers on top gingerly explored, trying to find the invisible Assassin. McGregor peeked into an abandoned train and saw the glint of a reflection. Before she could process what she saw, the Assassin uncloaked and leapt at her. McGregor hastily used her powers to fire a lance of psionic energy, keeping the Assassin back. She could faintly feel herself wet herself again and her bowels followed suit, filling up the inside of her metal armor which couldn’t bulge out. She winced and could not tell if she messed due to the exertion of her power or fear.
In order to get out of the psionic blast, the Assassin shifted her approach and jumped at the next nearest soldier, Edwards. Edwards had been rushing in to help McGregor. Seeing the Assassin turn to her, Edwards froze. In that momentary freeze, she felt her bowels move as she pooped herself in fear. A bulge the size of an orange now behind her, she backed up and fired her gun, each moment of recoil causing more of her mess to escape. The Assassin dodged the first couple of bursts then lunged, tackling Edwards and sending her flying back. Edwards crashed into the guard rails on the edge of the elevated rail, knocked out and sporting a bulge the size of a grapefruit behind her.
Yessica arrived on the scene next and used the Assassin’s focus on Edwards to channel all her power. She cast her psionic ability around the Assassin, catching her by surprise and holding her still in a stasis. She yelled, “Get ready to fire now!”
Jane Kelly caught up and stood beside Yessica as Pratal Mox and Anastasia arrived on the other side. McGregor joined in with her psionic powers as the Assassin squirmed to get out of the stasis. Yessica was straining with all her might and she could faintly tell the exertion was causing herself to lose control, though there was no visible evidence. Beside her, Kelly could hear the faint gushing and crackling of the double accident, but she had bigger things to worry about. Yessica and McGregor made eye contact then silently agreed to stop at the same time. Yessica shouted, “Now!”
The Assassin fell to her knees as the stasis stopped, and in that moment of vulnerability, Pratal Mox, Anastasia, and Jane Kelly fired repeatedly at the Assassin, landing every hit. The Assassin stood up and hissed at them, realizing she was cornered for once. She said, “I had not expected this conflict to be so… exhilarating. You surprise me, XCOM. Still, the Elders’ will is that none survive this day. I cannot leave that to fortune.”
The Assassin disappeared, retreating, but was replaced by an arrival of a Lost horde, soon to be followed by more. Kelly shouted, “We need to get to the evac site now!”
Dupont picked up the unconscious Jiang, wincing as she felt the mess on her butt but knowing she was in the same position. She kept the closest Lost at bay with a pistol, having only one arm to shoot now. McGregor did the same with Edwards, joining Dupont in firing her pistol. Jane Kelly sprinted ahead of them to clear the field, shotgun blazing. Mox and Yessica Castro were alongside the two carrying their squadmates, protecting the sides. Anastasia brought up the rear. From behind, Anastasia could see how every soldier except seemingly Yessica and Jane Kelly had accidents, and that made her realize she had to pee quite badly. She banished the thought and returned to firing, keeping the horde at bay as they progressed down the street and towards the evacuation zone.
Despite the intensity of the horde, they made it to the evacuation zone where the Skyranger waited. Anastasia turned and fired at the Lost following them, buying time for the others to board the Skyranger. Pratal Mox joined as they slowly backpedaled, giving everyone else time. After a minute, Mox shouted, “Everyone has boarded and we cannot hold this position any more! Go!”
Anastasia looked at her former nemesis, hesitant to abandon him. He reassured, “I do not intend to die today. I will be right behind you.”
Anastasia turned and jumped on the Skyranger. Instead of buckling in, she fired from the back, giving Mox cover. Mox ran to the evacuation vehicle but steps away was suddenly held back. Before Anastasia and the others could process what happened, the Assassin reappeared, holding Mox back. Anastasia tried to line up a shot, distracted by a hot burst of urine as she trembled in fear and exhaustion. The first sign of a wet stain appeared on her pants. The Assassin hissed, “Time to return home, traitor.”
They were beamed up and the Skyranger had to flee to prevent the horde of Lost from overrunning their position. Anastasia cursed before taking her seat. Their mission to unite the resistance was a success, but the Skirmisher leader and representative was held hostage.
Jane Kelly arrived back on the ship exhausted and desperate, having mostly successfully controlled her bladder and bowels throughout that mission. Fortunately, there were no propaganda photographers after the mission, given the state of her squadmates, but she knew there would be no downtime with Pratal Mox kidnapped. She grimaced, hoping the Commander would not hold that against her. To her dismay, after she put away her weapons, she got a notification the Commander requested to see her right away. She looked longingly at the bathroom in the locker room but followed orders and went to the Commander’s Quarters.
The Commander was sitting in a rather comfortable looking chair for a military ship and beckoned her in. He was a man of few words and looked quite nondescript, with dark hair and dark eyes, but he was a legend - commanding the initial resistance against the aliens with significant success before they were overrun. He was rescued and revived specifically to renew the resistance, and under his command they had truly restarted a guerrilla movement. In fact, defeats were almost nonexistent since he took over, the kidnapping of Mox aside. “At ease, Captain Kelly. I just wanted to hear from you directly what happened down there to get a better sense of what happened to Mox.”
Captain Kelly nodded and retold the mission, explaining in detail what she knew about the Assassin so far and her abilities. As she retold the story, she felt her bladder and bowels push down hard, desperation coming in waves. She showed no sign, though, and continued as professionally as she could. The Commander seemed not to notice, frowning at the extent of the Assassin’s powers.
She finally finished retelling the mission. As she did, she felt a spurt escape, but held it down to less than a second. She glanced down but couldn’t see anything. The Commander looked lost in thought, then said, “Alright. You all hurt her. We can defeat her. We can rescue Mox and that has to be the priority to show this alliance has teeth.”
Captain Kelly nodded. A second spurt escaped and she crossed her legs instinctively. As she did, she felt a silent fart escape. She cursed under her breath. “Captain? You alright?”
Jane uncrossed her legs, feeling another spurt escape. “Umm… Yes, sir.”
“You don’t seem it. Are you injured at all?”
Jane resigned herself to telling the truth. “No sir. I just… I just need to use the facilities.”
The Commander seemed taken aback. “Oh. Well, feel free to use mine before heading out. You’re dismissed.”
He gestured to a door. Jane Kelly couldn’t… she couldn’t use his bathroom. She said, “Thanks for the offer sir, but it’s alright, I’ll use the one in the barracks.”
She turned to leave, not realizing he had seen the wet spot form. It was the size of a fist on the front and back. She was hot with embarrassment as she walked out, now farting and leaking with each step. She didn’t see his face anymore, but he was staring at her and had a slightly amused facial expression.
When the door finally closed behind her, she ran to the barracks. As she ran, she could feel the first turd poking out before touching cotton. She raced past soldiers, hoping to be fast enough they didn’t see the growing stain on her pants, halfway down to her knees. She burst open the bathroom door and grabbed a stall. As she shut the stall, all control left her and she pissed uncontrollably and the first turd curled up in her underwear. She yanked her pants down and sat on the toilet, finishing what little remained there. She cursed, dumped her underwear into the toilet, then took them off to throw away. She didn’t even want to bother cleaning them and headed straight to the shower, naked and messy.
From: Commander
To: Jane Kelly
Subject: Propaganda Initiative Update
Date: 5/19/2035
First of all, congratulations on uniting the Resistance. With the Reapers, Templars, and Skirmishers on board, we now have coordinated resistance in Asia, Europe, Australia, Africa, and North America. This is a true war against the aliens, now.
I wanted to let you know that the vid footage Wyvern’s missions have had the intended effect. Recruitment of women into the resistance generally and XCOM specifically have skyrocketed in the past two weeks. In fact, we had enough experienced soldiers from countries around the world sign up to create an all-new Zilant Squad.
That leads me to the second part of the email: Zilant Squad will be embarking on the mission to rescue Pratal Mox. This is not my call. You’ve completed every mission admirably and your squad is more than competent. The propaganda department, however, has encountered difficulty using footage from some of your missions. They want footage from the rescue mission to counter ADVENT propaganda. I hope you understand.
Ever since the mission to unite the Resistance that the Assassin crashed, Wyvern Squad was sidelined to minor recon and support missions. They completed each task admirably with no major incidents, but the new Zilant Squad got the glamorous missions. Captain Kelly couldn’t believe her squad was sidelined because of footage of their accidents. Zilant Squad’s trial run was repelling an attack on a Resistance base and they performed beautifully, despite a terrifying alien in disguise as a human ambushing them. Jane dreaded ever facing one of those aliens, a Faceless, which transformed from a human to a giant beast that could kill with its swing when you least expect it. Of course, Zilant had no accidents despite the frightening twist, so the propaganda department was in love with them. And now Zilant was suiting up to rescue Pratal Mox. Kelly of course wished them nothing but success, but it smarted knowing she would have been the squad assigned originally and knowing they were fully capable of doing so. She also wanted revenge on the Assassin - though they were hoping to free Mox while the Assassin was away to avoid an unnecessarily difficult conflict.
Anastasia “Ghost” Davydov had been assigned to their squad, Wyvern, but Yessica was assigned to Zilant due to her lack of visible accidents and to ensure both squads had a psionic operative, though everyone on Wyvern knew it wasn’t because Yessica had control but because she and all female Templars wore diapers. Jane Kelly had a passing thought of wondering if that was Zilant’s secret to avoiding accidents…
In addition to Yessica, Zilant Squad had representatives from around the world. With the continents of Africa and Australia/Oceania joining, Zilant had a recruit from Nigeria - Monifa “Valentine” Akerele, a beautiful woman with dreads who was equally deadly with explosives as she was beautiful - and Hannah “Vixen” Campbell from Australia, a tomboyish blonde who talked gruff and had impeccable aim with a sniper rifle. Campbell’s spotter and the squad’s back-up sniper was Millie “Valkyrie” Kahl, also a tough blonde but she kept her hair short and was from Germany. Their support and medic was an Italian named Ginevra “Vita” Contarini, a curvaceous woman with straight light brown hair that went to her shoulders. They were led by a Norwegian recruit, Astrid “Vandal” Gaustad, who kept her blonde hair in a tight bun. Gaustad was a well-known accomplished soldier in Europe - in fact, Kelly had worked with Gaustad, Contarini, and Kahl in her resistance days in Europe, and knew they were excellent soldiers. But that didn’t stop a twang of jealousy seeing them get the heroic missions.
Captain Kelly was high enough rank she could sit in Central’s office and watch the feed from Zilant Squad’s soldiers, all to be saved for propaganda use. The mission went without a hitch - Zilant infiltrated the base, cleared out the ADVENT inside, and broke Pratal Mox out of a holding cell without the Assassin ever showing up. Captain Kelly was just ever so slightly jealous, knowing her squad could have easily pulled that off, but she was infinitely relieved to have Mox back, who would be a critical part of keeping their Resistance coalition together.
Later, Captain Kelly waited at the docks for Zilant Squad’s return. She was there to congratulate them and say hi to Pratal, but she couldn’t help but double check the squad’s crotches. No signs of wetness on any of them… though she could have sworn Ginevra Contarini was walking a little stiffly and she thought she smelled the faint but familiar odor of poop as either Contarini or Campbell walked by… but no matter. She returned her focus to greeting Pratal Mox, who reacted to her like he was seeing an old friend given the tough mission they went through together when he was kidnapped.
A month passed where Zilant and Wyvern Squads were assigned minor missions protecting VIPs and Resistance bases. Other squads were infiltrating ADVENT bases - it was clear the aliens were planning something big and they wanted to know what. The aliens were advertising new and expanded gene clinics to humans to supposedly eradicate genetic diseases, but many humans who went in were never heard from again.
A more pressing concern was the worry that the Assassin would show up again. She had interrupted a couple ADVENT base infiltrations, though squads had avoided being decimated by her powers due to the strategic prowess of the Commander. The victories didn’t stop the Assassin from being a major threat, and every conflict with her risked the deaths of veteran XCOM soldiers. However, they caught a break when Skirmisher intelligence deduced the Assassin base was on an uninhabited island in Polynesia, near Australia - it explained her focus on Pratal Mox and the Skirmishers overall.
Going on the offensive against the Assassin was a huge risk, but the Commander felt confident given their recent wins. Additionally, rather than prioritize stealth, the Commander decided to go for force and sent both Zilant and Wyvern Squads. Jane Kelly was determined to prove her squad’s worth after they had been sidelined for propaganda reasons… and she was determined to get her revenge on the Assassin.
Captain Kelly and the rest of Wyvern Squad was suiting up in the locker room when Zilant Squad walked in, already decked out in their armor. Kelly thought it was weird they didn’t change into their armor in the locker room, but no matter. She gave a nod of respect to Zilant’s leader, Captain Gaustad, who returned the nod.
After a few minutes, they had fully loaded both squads to the Skyranger, now uncomfortably cramped. They rode in silence. Captain Kelly reviewed the mission notes. They had to breach the facility and find the Assassin’s chamber.
The drop off went without a hitch and without defenses at the moment. They were inside the building, on high alert for when the inevitable backlash would occur, when the Assassin’s harsh voice came through on all twelve of their radio devices. Many jumped in surprise and fear as the Assassin found a way to communicate to them directly. Her voice filled the room they were in, amplified by twelve soldiers. “I had hoped you would never find this place, XCOM. You have forced my hand. I can afford to give you no quarter.”
After a momentary pause of fear and suspense, Gaustad and Kelly locked eyes and nodded. They motioned to move and proceeded with the mission, heading into a hallway and deeper into the mission.
At the end of the hallway, a key door blocked the next room. Zilant Squad gathered by the left side of the door while Wyvern gathered by the right. Jane Kelly breathed deep then opened the door, twelve guns pointing at the opening.
What waited behind the door were six aliens in a large laboratory, the ceiling a good thirty feet high. Five of the aliens were a rare classification soldiers had called “Archon” - a bizarre floating alien with a human-esque upper half but a propulsion device instead of a lower half, armed with a staff that could also fire as a gun. It was believed to be an adaptation of an alien witnessed in the initial invasion, called Floaters, but made to look less overtly repulsive for the masses forced to live under ADVENT rule. The sixth was an all-black humanoid figure never seen before. Upon the door opening, it turned into a trail of black dust and re-formed elsewhere behind cover.
After a momentary pause, the twelve soldiers and six aliens fired through the door. Outnumbered and outgunned here, the aliens backpedaled, giving Zilant and Wyvern time to get through the door and find cover. Three aliens down, but the three remaining were bunkered down.
Hannah Campbell and Millie Kahl, the snipers both on Zilant Squad, raised their scope to get a shot at the aliens in cover. One Archon’s head was peaking out and Kahl immediately fired, killing it. The other, upon witnessing the death, charged upward to the roof of the room. Before anyone could react, it prepared to launch rockets at them all, determined to wipe them out with him.
Campbell fired, taking the Archon down, but not before everyone had to scramble out of cover to avoid the rockets fired within the large room. When the dust cleared, the unknown alien was missing. Edwards muttered, “That thing is like a Spectre.”
As they investigated the room, the Spectre caught Dupont in a corner by herself. It revealed itself, previously invisible, and physically attacked Dupont, who shouted in surprise and fear before jumping back. Not only did the Spectre land a physical hit, but part of itself dissolved and reformed as a shadow of Dupont, all-black and smoky but with a shotgun and in her shape.
Dupont backpedaled in fear, firing rapidly. She could feel her bowels churn as she spurted in fear, but she pushed that aside as she kept her gun trained on the Spectre. Her ghost prepared to fire at her, but Jiang swooped in and fired her gun as well. The Spectre finally dissolved, and with it the ghost. Dupont’s fear subsided and she glanced at her crotch and noticed a thumb-sized patch but nothing obvious. Jiang cocked her eyebrow at her but Dupont affirmed she was okay.
They proceeded onward, deeper into the facility. They faced some resistance in the form of turrets and the occasional Archon, but it was surprisingly fast progress. It crossed Jane Kelly’s mind it could be a trap, but they had to take the opportunity to kill the Assassin.
At the heart of the facility, they opened a room that revealed a teleportation device. It was a circle twice the height of a person, shimmering blue and not showing what was on the other side. This must be where they had to pass to find the Assassin. Within, an Archon led a squad of Mutons, hulking brutes with plasma weaponry. A Codex accompanied them - this was a rare shimmering golden creature that could teleport. Central spoke to Captains Kelly and Gaustad. “We’ve never taken in a Codex. When you kill it, bring the head in. We need its data.”
A tense firefight followed, but one that the human squads could handle. Gaustad charged one Muton with her shotgun, tearing it to pieces, while Akerele used her grenade launcher to disintegrate another two. Edwards followed suit and Davydov used her rifle to headshot the last Muton. Before the Archon could launch rockets, Castro used her powers to push the Archon to the ground, glowing purple in psionic energy. As she fired a beam of psionic energy to kill the Archon, Captain Kelly couldn’t help but think she heard the crackling of not just psionic energy but of Castro’s bowels. She thought she heard hissing as well, but in the din of battle it wasn’t clear. She supposed the exertion of psionic energy could very well cause an accident, but Castro acted like nothing was wrong. Captain Kelly was well aware she wore protection as well anyway.
The one hairy moment was upon seeing its squad fall apart, the Codex vanished and reappeared behind Jessie Edwards. The grenadier couldn’t turn around quickly enough to fire with her heavy weapon, ducking down instead to avoid getting hit. The opening allowed Captain Kelly to leap in with her sword, cutting off its head. The body crumbled after the Codex died and Kelly pocketed the surprisingly small segment of the head that remained. She helped Edwards up to her feet, noticing a small wet spot on her crotch, but she couldn’t blame her.
They reloaded and gathered themselves with the battle over. They now had to pass through a teleporter and defeat an enemy they couldn’t defeat before. Captain Kelly took a deep breath then dived in.
On the other side, they were in an ornate room, similar to the main hall of a cathedral. Tall pillars held it up, the chamber’s ceilings so high they could barely make out the top of the pillars. On the far end of the room, a glowing rectangular prism stood center. It looked like it could house the Assassin… Central came over the radio. “I’m seeing your feed… what is that, a stasis chamber? Is this why they always come back?”
His answer was given as a beam of purple light signaled the arrival of the Assassin. In front of her stasis pod, she appeared, a beam rifle in hand. Zilant and Wyvern Squads scattered into cover to avoid the rifle. McGregor immediately attempted to hold the Assassin in place with her psionic powers, but the Assassin fired, a glancing blow that ripped the edge of her armor’s shoulder piece right off. McGregor ducked down, a pool of urine forming below her.
The Assassin disappeared and the two squads fanned out to find her. The seconds ticked by, all twelve soldiers on edge and secretly not wanting to be the one that finds her. Eventually, Dupont was the unlucky soldier, the Assassin reappearing directly behind her, katana in hand. Dupont swung aside and fired wildly, not having enough time to escape. The small wet spot blossomed as the Assassin began to swing. Ten of the other eleven soldiers tried to open fire; Jiang, who was closest, sprinted there and tackled Dupont out of the way, the sword grazing her hair instead of hitting anyone. When Dupont landed, she felt herself deflate, brown mush filling her pants. She blushed with embarrassment as she wet and messed herself with Jiang on top of her, having just saved her life, but she could hear Jiang mess herself as well, the exertion of tackling causing her to lose control as well. As the others engaged the Assassin in combat, the two women held each other in embrace for a moment as they finished having their respective accidents. Her fear subsiding, Dupont felt weirdly… aroused by the two women having an accident while in an embrace on the floor. Unbeknownst to her, Jiang felt the same way, but the two women eventually had to recover to rejoin the fight.
Captain Kelly engaged the Assassin directly in a sword fight. They traded blows as the other soldiers peppered the Assassin with bullets, her armor holding for now. The Assassin swung hard, and as Kelly blocked the blow, the force caused her to leak. She grimaced then backed out to retaliate with her own swing. The Assassin stepped aside, kicking Kelly to the ground. As she fell, she felt another spurt from the fear that at any moment the Assassin would kill her. Fortunately for her, the Reaper Anastasia Davydov fired a well-placed shot that landed directly at the Assassin’s head. The Assassin fell to the ground then disappeared.
McGregor was astonished. “Did we… did we do it?”
Captain Gaustad shook her head. “Look at the stasis pod.”
They looked… the pod was glowing. They approached gingerly, guns at the ready. When they were within about six feet from it, a purple beam shot out and the Assassin reappeared, seemingly uninjured. The Assassin smiled grimly, then without a word launched herself at the closest soldier, who was Jessie Edwards. She stood her ground, firing her minigun. The constant barrage mirrored her pissing freely, a dark trail expanding down her legs as she fired. The shots landed, but the Assassin barely slowed before swinging. Edwards dodged the sword last minute. She got out of the way but her gun was split in two by the Assassin’s sword.
Captain Kelly shouted, “Let’s take out the stasis pod. Zilant, keep her distracted!”
Wyvern Squad fired at the rectangular prism. The Assassin swung around, her eyes filled with fear for the first time. She hissed then made a move after Captain Kelly. Sgt. Edwards took the moment to move out of her exposed position. She pulled out her grenade launcher and took aim for the pod.
Before the Assassin could make it to Captain Kelly, Captain Gaustad blocked the path and fired with her shotgun. The Assassin kept advancing, knowing she could take out one soldier. However, Campbell and Kahl began firing from both sides, their sniper rifle piercing the Assassin’s armor. The Assassin howled in pain and threw her sword at Gaustad, who leapt back into Kelly’s arms. Gaustad was frozen in fear for a moment, the sword inches from her feet, but Jane helped her back up. The Assassin pulled out her rifle, meaning to shoot the snipers in retaliation. Campbell and Kahl dove into cover.
The distraction gave Sgt. Edwards time to fire her grenades at the stasis pod. The explosions caught the Assassin’s attention and the first cracks appeared on the pod. The Assassin screamed in frustration and took aim at her instead. Edwards jumped behind cover, but before she could successfully hide, the beam rifle had hit her - or more specifically, her grenade launcher. The weapon disintegrated in Edwards’ hands but fortunately took the hit. Behind cover, though, Edwards helplessly messed herself in fear, sticky brown waste filling her pants as she realized she had no weapons left.
Monifa Akerele was the next to take the Assassin’s attention, firing her own grenade launcher right at the Assassin. Anastasia Davydov took the distraction to apply her C4 to the stasis pod. She motioned for everyone to dive into cover before detonating. The explosion stopped the Assassin in her tracks, and when the dust cleared, the stasis pod was a pile of rubble. The Assassin stared in horror before it turned to rage. She ran to Davydov and grabbed her by the throat. Davydov tried to pry her hands, but to no avail. The Assassin slammed Davydov against the wall. Davydov could feel wetness spread down her legs as the edges of her sight blurred. With each slam against the wall, the leak intensified.
Captain Kelly sprinted over to save Anastasia. With the Assassin focusing her rage on killing Anastasia, she didn’t notice as Kelly unsheathed her sword again and impaling the Assassin through the chest. The Assassin gasped in shock and dropped Anastasia, who crawled as far away as she could. The Assassin turned to face Jane as she fell to her knees. “You… have fought well.”
There was almost admiration in her voice. “May you… reclaim this world as your own.”
The Assassin keeled over, finally permanently dead. There was no cheering from Zilant or Wyvern Squad, just tired relief as they made their way back to the Skyranger to be evacuated. But they had done what might have seemed impossible and without taking a single casualty.
On the Skyranger, they rode in silence for a while, too tired to even celebrate their win. The smell of their accidents hung in the air. Jane Kelly sighed, knowing the accidents were all her squad - or at least, that’s what it seemed. Zilant Squad noticed, too, as Millie Kahl, one of their snipers, sneered at Wyvern. “I suppose that’s why they use us for the propaganda footage.” Her German accent only accentuated the barb.
The members of Wyvern blushed with embarrassment and anger. Captain Gaustad shushed her. “That doesn’t matter, what matters is we got the job done.”
Kahl muttered, “While watching over some babies.”
Jane Kelly was fed up and had to stand up for her squad. She knew at least one person on their squad was using protection, so it was unlikely Zilant’s bodily control was actually miles above theirs. “If you have something to say about my squad, why don’t we settle it in the training room?”
Kahl rolled her eyes. “And what, get your piss all over me?”
Jane was heated now. She could even see Campbell and Contarini squirming in their seats, likely desperate to go having not gone throughout their mission. The hypocrisy was intolerable. Gaustad, an honorable soldier, seemed to agree. “Kahl, you’ve earned getting your ass kicked. If you want to talk shit, then back your comments up.”
Jane Kelly followed up, “See, your captain agrees. You gonna fight me tomorrow? Or are you chicken?”
Kahl rolled her eyes. “Fine. Tomorrow morning. I’ll show you what being a grown up looks like.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Funnily enough, Campbell had stopped squirming at some point during the argument and was looking rather relieved, though blushing bright red. Jane wondered if that meant what she thought it meant. Contarini was still squirming, and at one point she thought she heard a low fart come from her direction. Given the stench of the Skyranger, no one but her really noticed.
When they arrived back at the landing pad, the propaganda photographer greeted the two squads. “Hi all, great mission. I’d like some after-mission photos we can use for Internet propaganda. Umm… Wyvern… You can go, uh, clean up.”
The members of Wyvern were embarrassed again but silent as they headed off to shower and change. As she was leaving, though, Jane noticed Contarini uncross her legs and stand still for a change. Contarini had a voluptuous ass, but Jane thought she noticed it expand slightly… Jane decided not to keep staring and walked away with her squad.
The next day, at 7 AM sharp, Jane Kelly and Millie Kahl stood opposing each other in training room, the mats laid out to make a makeshift boxing ring. Their respective teams in their corners, Jane and Millie death glared at each other. They agreed to not use the bathroom after waking up, and Jane could feel her bladder twinge as it needed its morning release. She was sure Millie felt the same, though, since that first morning piss was so universal. Jane was wearing tight black booty shorts to give her maximum flexibility and a black sports bra. Millie was wearing a red sports bra along with a baggier and longer set of red shorts, more akin to boxing or basketball shorts.
Astrid didn’t approve of her squad member battling a fellow soldier like this, but she had to seem supportive of her squad and privately thought this was the chance for Millie to get her ego checked. She had agreed to “ref” the match and signaled for the match to start.
Jane raised her hands defensively, eyeing Millie to see her style. Millie, however, was aggressive, and came straight to Jane’s corner to begin throwing punches. Jane wasn’t surprised that Millie had a more boxing style, but Jane could be more creative. She fended off the punches then grabbed Millie’s wrist, sweeping her legs with a kick that caused her to spin 360 degrees as she let go of Millie’s wrist. Millie was clearly not doing reconnaissance on Jane’s fight style, and Millie fell to the floor flat on her ass, wincing. She quickly got up, though, and approached Jane more cautiously this time. They exchanged blows before Jane could see Millie’s left arm go for a powerful punch to the head. Jane raised her arms to block, but to her surprise Millie actually swung with her right arm directly into her lower torso. Jane felt her bladder hit and uncontrollably spurted for several seconds, though she just stopped it in time for the wetness to not go beyond the edge of her shorts. The black shorts glistened for a moment on her crotch for anyone watching closely, but no one noticed and the black shorts didn’t leave a very visible wet spot. Millie grinned at Jane’s shock and pressed on her advantage, swinging at Jane repeatedly. However, Jane parried Millie’s blows and retaliated with her own attacks, connecting her own massive hit directly into Millie’s gut. Jane took advantage of Millie’s shock and grabbed her in a chokehold, trying to bring her down. She successfully lowered Millie down to her knees, but Millie was now directly in front of Jane and elbowed her right in the stomach to try to free herself. Jane felt her bladder release again, the streams running down her legs and causing a puddle on the mat, but she held on. She swung Millie down flat on her face on the mat (right into a puddle, to add insult to injury), and held her down as she squirmed. Astrid counted to ten and then Jane let her up.
When Millie finally got up she was furious. “I said your only move is to piss on people and I was right. You’re weak and disgusting.”
Jane shrugged. “I beat you in the fight, that’s what we agreed to. In the field, who cares if people have an accident, I want the best fighters in my corner.”
Millie shook her head. “No, the competition was about who was the bigger baby, and it’s clearly you since you can’t control your bladder.”
Jane cocked her eyebrow and decided to act on her instinct. She grabbed Millie’s shorts and yanked them down, revealing a very soiled diaper. The front was yellowed and as Millie panicked and ran back to her team, the rest of Wyvern could see it was brown and bulging in the back. As Wyvern laughed at Millie’s comeuppance, Astrid came over to shake Jane’s hand. Astrid whispered, “Thanks for putting her in her place.”
Jane nodded, smiling back at Astrid. In that moment, though, they were interrupted as the commander himself came into the room. Jane shouted, “Commander on deck!”
They all stopped and turned to salute, despite Jane’s wet shorts and Millie’s diaper. The commander looked amused, eyeing over the accidents, then said, “At ease.”
The commander continued, “We’ve discovered the base of a different Elder Chosen. You had fought and defeated the Assassin last. This one has been harassing our Templar allies. I’m sending both of your squads in together, just like last time. All details on this Chosen and his fighting style is in your comms. Please review it, we will send you in on the Skyranger tomorrow.”
The commander left, leaving the squads and a messy Millie and Jane standing there. After a momentary pause, Jessie spoke up. “Well, Zilant, if we want to continue this competition, we can both go into this fight without protection. Then we’ll really see who should be the face of the resistance.”
Astrid looked worried, but the rest of her squad nodded, wanting to prove themselves to Wyvern after Millie’s humiliation. Astrid shrugged, seeing her squad’s competitiveness. “Alright, your funeral.”
After Millie and Jane cleaned up and everyone suited up at the Skyranger, the commander came out again to meet the squads. Shouting over the sound of the Skyranger powering up, the commander said, “I’ve heard about your little competition.”
The women looked sheepish with embarrassment. The commander continued, “This is actually good for us. Our scientists have a hypothesis that overexposure to the aliens is causing female incontinence. It’s not the most pressing side effect of the alien invasion, but we want to make sure. To that point, when you return and change in the locker room, everyone will be asked to turn over their underwear to our scientists. We will measure a baseline and go from there.”
Everyone looked bewildered. The commander continued, “Of course, this is all on the premise that you stay alive so please come back in one piece. Dismissed.” |
I've been meaning to finish this one off for a while - I don't have any other fiction ideas at the moment, unfortunately, but wanted to wrap up loose ends. I experimented with less traditional ways of putting things together here and am not sure if it's enjoyable like this or not, but thought I'd put it out there in case anyone does like it.
From: Central
To: Commander
Subject: Experiment Debrief
Date: 7/2/2035
Grateful for another successful mission, another Elder Chosen dead. And we didn’t lose a single soldier. Regardless of their… issues, Zilant & Wyvern are now our two most successful squads and I’m grateful for their work.
Here is the report on the experiment. Not sure what you and the eggheads plan to do with this data, but hope it helps them.
Wyvern
Marguerite “Snake Eyes” Dupont, France, assault
Bladder: 507 mL
Bowels: 472 g
Xuanji “Doc” Jiang, China, support
Bladder: 201 mL
Bowels: 677 g
Jessie “Deep Six” Edwards, UK, grenadier
Bladder: 109 mL
Bowels: 202 g
Anastasia “Ghost” Davydov, Russia, Reaper
Bladder: 76 mL
Bowels: 47 g
Jane “Quiet” Kelly, Ireland, assault
Bladder: 91 mL
Bowels: 99 g
Bridget “Oracle” McGregor, Scotland, psi operative
Bladder: 782 mL
Bowels: 93 g
Zilant
Astrid “Vandal” Gaustad, Norway, assault
Bladder: 377 mL
Bowels: 91 g
Ginevra “Vita” Contarini, Italy, support
Bladder: 499 mL
Bowels: 277 g
Hannah “Vixen” Campbell, Australia, sniper
Bladder: 101 mL
Bowels: 501 g
Yessica “Volt” Castro, Templar
Bladder: 799 mL
Bowels: 511 g
Millie “Valkyrie” Kahl, Germany, sniper
Bladder: 220 mL
Bowels: 299 g
Monifa “Valentine” Akerele, Nigeria, grenadier
Bladder: 77 mL
Bowels: 41 g
Summary
As suspected, psionic powers reduce bladder capacity and Yessica and Bridget’s numbers indicate their bladder not only entirely emptied, but partially re-filled and emptied again during the mission. However, it’s inconclusive if it affects bowels. Bridget, it seems, has above average bowel control while Yessica does not. Marguerite, Ginevre, and possibly Astrid lost bladder control entirely at some point, their number in the normal range for a bladder’s capacity - 400-600 mL. Marguerite & Yessica seemed to experience total bowel loss, with bowel capacity in humans averaging between 400-600 grams. However, lower bladder control doesn’t seem entirely correlated with lower bowel control. Hannah & Xuanji did not entirely empty their bladders but did empty their bowels. On the other spectrum, Monifa, Jane, & Anastasia demonstrated near-continence.
Recommendation
We recommend dividing up the team members into three categories of protective undergarments. We need more data to confirm the categories the women are in, and to determine if incontinence is improving or weakening. However, our initial recommendation is:
Padded panties - These are discreet, with padding for minor bladder loss. They are full cut panties that are specially designed to be easily washable in case of small bowel loss. The upside is less mobility concerns and no potential visibility issues regardless of clothing type, along with probable psychological benefits to the soldier.
Jane Kelly
Monifa Akerele
Anastasia Davydov
Pull-ups - These can be pulled up or down like panties and are generally not visible regardless of clothing type, but wearers not used to them will notice in strenuous activity and may need to develop a routine regarding baby powder or other anti-rash equipment. Ours are especially designed to handle medium-level leaks up to a full bladder loss and can contain some bowel loss. A full bowel loss may result in leakage.
Jessie Edwards
Astrid Gaustad
Millie Kahl
Ginevra Contarini - borderline, need more data
Tape-up diapers - These are full diapers that may be difficult to put on by the operator, though some may be able to do so. Baggier clothing is needed to avoid visibility concerns, but these can contain multiple full wetting accidents and a full messing accident. Yessica has a stock of a version compatible with her armor; we recommend duplicating these for Bridget.
Yessica Castro
Bridget McGregor
Marguerite Dupont
Xuanji Jiang
Hannah Campbell
From: Central
To: Commander
Subject: Longitudinal Study Check-In
Date: 8/9/2035
Congratulations on the continued successes. Here’s the data in progress from Wyvern & Zilant since starting our measurement of female continence.
Summary
Protection has provided a boon for the propaganda department, and far more footage of Wyvern & Zilant’s missions have been used. The realization that partial incontinence is common in both squads has also ended tensions, allowing the squads to work together more successfully. From a combat and strategy standpoint, we can consider this a success.
As a study on female incontinence, we do not have enough data yet to determine if incontinence is getting better or worse, but we do have a baseline to compare them to from civilian volunteers for our experiment. They were exposed to similar situations via virtual reality. Interestingly, our soldiers, despite being well trained and able to ignore incontinence during combat situations, are not any more continent than civilians without previous exposure to aliens or military training. Our initial hypothesis is that combat training has no impact on continence and the aliens don’t either - this is normal for human women who encounter hostile aliens.
Our categorization of squad members for the three different types of incontinence equipment seems to have hit the mark. We recommend keeping everyone in the current category of undergarment, with the understanding that occasionally the padded panties and pull-up users will have a lapse in control that may be beyond the capacity, but that it is rare enough to be worth the mobility, flexibility, and confidence boost to the wearer.
How to interpret the data:
Name
Bladder data:
Wetting accidents (out of 7 missions, defined by leakage greater than 50 mL)
Bladder size - small (<350 mL), below average (350-450 mL), average (450-500 mL), above average (500-550 mL), large (550+ mL)
Bladder control - incontinent, below average, average, above average, continent
Bowel data:
Bowel size - small (<300 g), below average (300-350 g), average (350-450 g), above average (450-500 g), large (>500 g)
Messing accidents (out of 7 missions, defined by expulsion greater than 20 g)
Bowel control - incontinent, below average, average, above average, continent
Astrid “Vandal” Gaustad, Norway, assault
Bladder
7/7
Size: Small
Rating: Below Average
Bowels
1/7
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Ginevra “Vita” Contarini, Italy, support
Bladder
7/7
Size: Average
Rating: Below Average
Bowels
4/7
Size: Average
Rating: Below Average
Hannah “Vixen” Campbell, Australia, sniper
Bladder
3/7
Size: Above Average
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
7/7
Size: Above Average
Rating: Incontinent
Yessica “Volt” Castro, Templar
Bladder
7/7
Size: Average
Rating: Incontinent
Bowels
5/7
Size: Above Average
Rating: Below Average
Millie “Valkyrie” Kahl, Germany, sniper
Bladder
4/7
Size: Average
Rating: Average
Bowels
3/7
Size: Average
Rating: Average
Monifa “Valentine” Akerele, Nigeria, grenadier
Bladder
1/7
Size: Large
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
1/7
Size: Large
Rating: Above Average
Marguerite “Snake Eyes” Dupont, France, assault
Bladder
7/7
Size: Small
Rating: Below Average
Bowels
6/7
Size: Below Average
Rating: Below Average
Xuanji “Doc” Jiang, China, support
Bladder
4/7
Size: Above Average
Rating: Average
Bowels
7/7
Size: Large
Rating: Below Average
Jessie “Deep Six” Edwards, UK, grenadier
Bladder
3/7
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
1/7
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Anastasia “Ghost” Davydov, Russia, Reaper
Bladder
2/7
Size: Small
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
1/7
Size: Small
Rating: Above Average
Jane “Quiet” Kelly, Ireland, assault
Bladder
1/7
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
2/7
Size: Large
Rating: Average
Bridget “Oracle” McGregor, Scotland, psi operative
Bladder
7/7
Size: Average
Rating: Incontinent
Bowels
1/7
Size: Above Average
Rating: Above Average
From: Central
To: Commander
Subject: Longitudinal Study Report
Date: 9/12/2035
I hear we are close to winning this war. As such, this is the final report of our scientists regarding continence among women.
Abstract
There were questions about the alien invasion’s impact on female continence. Anecdotally, witnessing female incontinence from soldiers and civilians seems to have increased. There are two parts of this study: a study of civilians, both those with a lot of exposure to aliens and those with a little, in various high-stress circumstances through virtual reality, to measure and compare continence. The second part is the use of soldiers from two all-female XCOM squads to measure their continence or lack thereof throughout missions to see if continence changes over time.
We have discovered that there is a measurable increase in incontinence with civilians who have more exposure to aliens being less continent while the two XCOM squads had a higher rate of accidents as their missions went on. However, while statistically significant, this was a relatively small shift. The lion’s share of the reported increase in accidents seems to just be the fear factor of facing a hostile alien species. It is still unclear, though, whether this shift from alien exposure is the product of a tangible action by the aliens or just the psychological impact of exposure to hostile aliens. Evidence of psychological correlation rather than causation is that soldiers with higher fear responses tended to struggle the most with continence.
One aside as well is that the size of the bladder or bowels does not seem to be heavily correlated with control. Some civilians and soldiers with small bladders or bowels had more leaks, but others were relatively in control. Thus, determining protective undergarments for soldiers was a combination of size and continence. Additionally, while all women studied experienced regular bouts of loss of control, entire bladder or bowel emptying in a singular event was not that common. Only three soldiers in the study experienced this regularly and were thus deemed incontinent. We can conclude with certainty that psionic powers in women does result in total bladder incontinence - this explained the incontinence for two of the soldiers.
Research Data Part 1: Soldiers
Astrid “Vandal” Gaustad, Norway, assault
Bladder
Size: Small
Rating: Below Average
Bowels
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Underwear: Pullups
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Partial loss of bladder control (201 mL), no loss of bowel control
Mission 2: Total loss of bladder control (361 mL), no loss of bowel control
Mission 3: Partial loss of bladder control (207 mL), minor loss of bowel control (57 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (199 mL), no loss of bladder control
Mission 5: Partial loss of bladder control (217 mL), partial loss of bowel control (162 g)
Commentary: Gaustad is firmly in the pullups category, without a single accident that her pullups could not handle. Bladder leaks are common, and she seems to have a limited capacity - leaks seem less about fear or psychological harm but more about just having a small bladder. Ironically, this saves her in the rare occasion she has completely emptied her bladder, with even a full loss of control contained by her pullups. Her bowel control is in the top 5% of women tested; if her bladder was similar to her bowels, she would be promoted to padded panties. While her loss of bladder control occurs often whenever there is a prolonged period away from a restroom, loss of bowel control seems to only occur when a combination of fear-inducing circumstances and not having relief for an extended period is present. Overall, Gaustad is a calm presence and a trusted leader on the battlefield - this demeanor has definitely helped her continence.
Ginevra “Vita” Contarini, Italy, support
Bladder
Size: Average
Rating: Below Average
Bowels
Size: Average
Rating: Below Average
Underwear: Pullups
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Partial loss of bladder control (271 mL), partial loss of bowel control (171 g)
Mission 2: Minor loss of bladder control (91 mL), minor loss of bowel control (57 g)
Mission 3: Total loss of bladder control (501 mL), partial loss of bowel control (163 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (224 mL), partial loss of bowel control (199 g)
Mission 5: Total loss of bladder control (477 mL), total loss of bowel control (401 g)
Commentary: Contarini was and continues to be considered borderline between pullups and tape-up diapers. If our study scope wasn’t ending soon, the direction of her accidents, which seem to be increasing in frequency and size, would warrant a switch to tape-ups. As such, there were only two missions that the pullups failed in, both within the past three missions. In one, she entirely emptied her bladder out of fear in combat, causing the pullups to leak. The wetness on her pants, while easily visible, were not so apparent as to warrant any embarrassment for her or cause any problems for the propaganda department regarding mission footage. The most recent accident, however, was a total loss of control of her bowels and bladder, resulting in her pullups entirely failing. Her pants were visibly wet and soiled, leading to all footage with her visible having to be deleted. Contarini does have a loss of control when afraid or stressed in combat, and does not seem to notice in the moment, but she also just seems to have limited control. When her bladder or bowels feel full, compared to her peers, Contarini cannot hold for very long before leakage occurs.
Hannah “Vixen” Campbell, Australia, sniper
Bladder
Size: Above Average
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
Size: Above Average
Rating: Incontinent
Underwear: Tape-Up Diaper
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Minor loss of bladder control (79 mL), total loss of bowel control (471 g)
Mission 2: Minor loss of bladder control (81 mL), total loss of bowel control (455 g)
Mission 3: Partial loss of bladder control (199 mL), total loss of bowel control (488 g)
Mission 4: Minor loss of bladder control (89 mL), total loss of bowel control (457 g)
Mission 5: Partial loss of bladder control (201 mL), total loss of bowel control (491 g)
Commentary: The most noticeable part of Campbell’s history is her near total incontinence with her bowels. We are unsure if this is physical or psychological. Campbell has veteran experience with long-distance sniping, having trained by waiting hours for her mark. We believe this may have reduced her control of her bowels, as it distracted from her work as a sniper. It is acceptable practice for snipers to relieve themselves as they lay so they can continue to operate their perch and observe. This, however, doesn’t explain Campbell’s above average control of her bladder, though she stated she doesn’t feel embarrassed by accidents at all and would feel totally fine with emptying her bladder if need be. True to her word, her accidents are frequently her letting go preemptively before battle so as to not distract her in combat. While this style serves her well in terms of managing fear and shutting out distractions, this guarantees she will stay in tape-up diapers for her duration of combat service; fortunately, this prospect does not bother her in the slightest. Campbell is proficient at changing her own tape-up diapers, which not all users are capable of.
Yessica “Volt” Castro, Templar
Bladder
Size: Average
Rating: Incontinent
Bowels
Size: Above Average
Rating: Below Average
Underwear: Tape-Up Diaper
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Total loss of bladder control (477 mL), minor loss of bowel control (61 g)
Mission 2: Total loss of bladder control (511 mL), partial loss of bowel control (141 g)
Mission 3: Total loss of bladder control x2 (899 mL), partial loss of bowel control (157 g)
Mission 4: Total loss of bladder control (501 mL), total loss of bowel control (301 g)
Mission 5: Total loss of bladder control x2 (901 mL), total loss of bowel control (327 g)
Commentary: Like all female psionic operatives, Castro has essentially no control of her bladder. Especially when she uses her powers, her bladder flows freely - this leads to her even emptying her bladder multiple times in a mission. Contrasted to McGregor, though, Castro also has relatively weak bowel control. It’s unclear if after years of already operating in tape-up diapers, she has essentially trained herself to let go when needed. Castro is a soldier who manages fear well; her loss of bowel control seems to be purely about holding capacity and avoiding distractions.
Millie “Valkyrie” Kahl, Germany, sniper
Bladder
Size: Average
Rating: Average
Bowels
Size: Average
Rating: Average
Underwear: Pullups
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Minor loss of bladder control (91 mL), minor loss of bowel control (41 g)
Mission 2: Partial loss of bladder control (181 mL), minor loss of bowel control (47 g)
Mission 3: Minor loss of bladder control (87 mL), partial loss of bowel control (144 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (201 mL), partial loss of bowel control (128 g)
Mission 5: Total loss of bladder control (474 mL), total loss of bowel control (401 g)
Commentary: Kahl’s continence has neither been particularly strong nor concerningly weak, though it has trended negatively. She is another candidate for transitioning to tape-up diapers if the study were to go longer. Kahl would likely resist this, as she is reluctant to admit she has an incontinence issue and in fact has petitioned to be moved to padded panties, despite no evidence to support this. Kahl’s incontinence seems driven by fear in battle. Make no mistake, Kahl is an exemplary soldier whose fear-induced losses of control do not cause her to freeze in battle or make critical errors, but her bladder and bowels seem to have a mind of their own. Despite the fear-based incontinence, Kahl rarely entirely lets go. Only one mission did this occur, and this was also her only pullup failure. Due to the large number of soldiers experiencing heavier than usual losses of control in this mission, very little footage was used by the propaganda department.
Monifa “Valentine” Akerele, Nigeria, grenadier
Bladder
Size: Large
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
Size: Large
Rating: Above Average
Underwear: Padded panties
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Minor loss of bladder control (71 mL), no loss of bowel control
Mission 2: Minor loss of bladder control (67 mL), minor loss of bowel control (33 g)
Mission 3: Minor loss of bladder control (41 mL), minor loss of bowel control (41 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (171 mL), no loss of bowel control
Mission 5: Minor loss of bladder control (21 mL), no loss of bowel control
Commentary: Akerele has perhaps the best continence among our soldiers and ranks in the top 1% of all test subjects, soldiers and civilians. Two factors play to her advantage. One, she has a larger than average capacity and this seems to help her hold it for longer periods of time. Second, Akerele does not seem to have an issue with fear in combat. Her losses of control are minor because they appear to be stress induced, not fear - hard exercise, running, jumping, etc. that jostles her body results in minor leaks, but nothing that even comes close to the capacity of her padded panties. Only once did she use her panties to capacity - in this particular instance, she had apparently been unable to visit the bathroom before the mission, making her partial loss of control still impressive given the circumstances.
Marguerite “Snake Eyes” Dupont, France, assault
Bladder
Size: Small
Rating: Below Average
Bowels
Size: Below Average
Rating: Below Average
Underwear: Tape-Up Diaper
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Partial loss of bladder control (191 mL), partial loss of bowel control (127 g)
Mission 2: Total loss of bladder control (349 mL), partial loss of bowel control (141 g)
Mission 3: Partial loss of bladder control (201 mL), partial loss of bowel control (187 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (187 mL), total loss of bowel control (301 g)
Mission 5: Total loss of bladder control (331 mL), total loss of bowel control (320 g)
Commentary: Dupont has consistently had one of the weakest bladders and bowels among those we study. While not incontinent, - in normal situations, Dupont has no issues going to the bathroom and knowing when she needs to go - combat produces a very different result. Dupont’s fear response and stress response combines to result in nearly continuous leaks during heavy combat. Fortunately, Dupont’s relatively small bladder and bowel size means tape-up diapers have no difficulty containing her accidents. Dupont is unable to change these by herself, and Jiang usually changes them for her. This partnership has actually improved the combat effectiveness of Jiang and Dupont together, as the two soldiers are now very close.
Xuanji “Doc” Jiang, China, support
Bladder
Size: Above Average
Rating: Average
Bowels
Size: Large
Rating: Below Average
Underwear: Tape-Up Diaper
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Minor loss of bladder control (77 mL), partial loss of bowel control (120 g)
Mission 2: Partial loss of bladder control (201 mL), partial loss of bowel control (177 g)
Mission 3: Partial loss of bladder control (221 mL), partial loss of bowel control (163 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (210 mL), total loss of bowel control (471 g)
Mission 5: Total loss of bladder control (552 mL), total loss of bowel control (462 g)
Commentary: Jiang’s continence isn’t significantly worse than average, but the fact that she has a slightly below average ability to hold and has a larger than average capacity means tape-up diapers are the safest option. Fortunately, Jiang is totally comfortable with this, and has treated incontinence products as just another piece of equipment. Her medical background makes her less embarrassed by the need. Jiang admitted her lack of bladder control is a side product of not trying very hard to hold it when she needs to go, preferring not to be distracted in combat situations. She admitted to even once wetting herself in a non-combat situation just to avoid the distracting feeling of needing to urinate badly. She also admitted that once she feels the need to move her bowels, there’s limited time before she involuntarily begins to go, hence frequently messing herself in prolonged combat. While Jiang can change her diaper herself, her partnership with Dupont means Dupont often changes her diaper. This has been a boost to morale for both, with Jiang caring well for Dupont and Dupont less embarrassed by her own needs.
Jessie “Deep Six” Edwards, UK, grenadier
Bladder
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Underwear: Pullups
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Partial loss of bladder control (159 mL), minor loss of bowel control (34 g)
Mission 2: Minor loss of bladder control (77 mL), no loss of bowel control
Mission 3: Partial loss of bladder control (177 mL), minor loss of bowel control (57 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (201 mL), partial loss of bowel control (188 g)
Mission 5: Total loss of bladder control (477 mL), partial loss of bowel control (201 g)
Commentary: Edwards was someone who fluctuated widely during the study but seemed to gravitate towards a weakening control over her bladder and bowels as the missions went on. Some days, she seemed ready for padded panties, while others she seemed a candidate for tape-ups. Some of this fluctuation had to do with fear-based wetting or messing, some perhaps to do with the prolonged exposure to aliens, while another factor seemed to be tied to poor timing - Edwards sometimes didn’t bother using the bathroom before missions. Her most recent mission was a case of this, and this was the only time her pullup leaked - though only mildly, with a mildly visible bulge from her bowels and wet streaks halfway down her thighs.
Anastasia “Ghost” Davydov, Russia, Reaper
Bladder
Size: Small
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
Size: Small
Rating: Above Average
Underwear: Padded panties
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Minor loss of bladder control (61 mL), minor loss of bowel control (44 g)
Mission 2: Minor loss of bladder control (81 mL), minor loss of bowel control (27 g)
Mission 3: Minor loss of bladder control (57 mL), minor loss of bowel control (66 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (177 mL), minor loss of bowel control (47 g)
Mission 5: Partial loss of bladder control (167 mL), Partial loss of bowel control (144 g)
Commentary: Davydov is one of the strongest performers in terms of continence, though she also contributes to data that implies exposure to aliens worsens continence; as a Reaper, Davydov has had even more alien exposure than most. Davydov’s continence is also helped by a lack of fear, with her quick wits and experience addressing a wide range of aliens keeping her cool and collected. Trading off minor leaks for continued control of her movement and rifle seems to be her strategy. Her most recent mission stretched her padded panties to the limit, but Davydov remained composed throughout the mission, which meant no one but the researchers who collected her undergarments even knew about her larger than usual loss of control.
Jane “Quiet” Kelly, Ireland, assault
Bladder
Size: Average
Rating: Above Average
Bowels
Size: Large
Rating: Average
Underwear: Padded panties
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Minor loss of bladder control (81 mL), minor loss of bowel control (44 g)
Mission 2: Minor loss of bladder control (77 mL), partial loss of bowel control (155 g)
Mission 3: Minor loss of bladder control (85 mL), partial loss of bowel control (161 g)
Mission 4: Partial loss of bladder control (194 mL), minor loss of bowel control (57 g)
Mission 5: Partial loss of bladder control (210 mL), partial loss of bowel control (177 g)
Commentary: Kelly has been the fearless leader of her squad and de facto leader of both squads together. This maturity, experience, and fearlessness has helped her remain one of the more continent soldiers. However, based on how her results have trended in the past 15 missions, especially the past 5, she would warrant being moved to pullups if the study were to be continued. Kelly has endured significant trauma, such as captivity, and it’s unclear if this is contributing to a worsening continence or something more controlled by the aliens. Whatever the cause, Kelly has not revealed any anxiety or worry about her performance. Her second-most-recent mission resulted in some leaks beyond what her panties could take, but the wet spot was minor. The most recent mission led to a slightly more visible leak and a somewhat visible bulge by the end of the mission, but mission footage from this operation wasn’t used by the propaganda department. She has commanded enough respect from the soldiers that they, too, are not disquieted by Kelly’s loss of control in the past two missions.
Bridget “Oracle” McGregor, Scotland, psi operative
Bladder
Size: Average
Rating: Incontinent
Bowels
Size: Above Average
Rating: Above Average
Underwear: Tape-Up Diaper
Past 5 missions:
Mission 1: Total loss of bladder control (477 mL), no loss of bowel control
Mission 2: Total loss of bladder control (456 mL), minor loss of bowel control (47 g)
Mission 3: Total loss of bladder control x2 (887 mL), minor loss of bowel control (29 g)
Mission 4: Total loss of bladder control (499 mL), minor loss of bowel control (77 g)
Mission 5: Total loss of bladder control x2 (901 mL), partial loss of bowel control (188 g)
Commentary: Like all female psionic operatives, McGregor is essentially bladder incontinent. Interestingly, though, McGregor has an above average control of her bowels. Like Castro, her bladder lets go entirely when using psionic powers, and she has on more than one occasion emptied a her bladder multiple times on a mission. While her bowel control has trended in the wrong direction, McGregor attests the most recent result to enduring a particularly heavy hit to the abdomen, causing her to temporarily lose control.
I tried writing an epilogue but wasn't really happy with it - maybe it's too excessive. But I thought I'd include it anyway in case anyone does like it.
Commander’s Log, 11/27/2035
FOR COMMANDER’S EYES ONLY
After the successful mission against the Elder HQ - with me surviving my bout controlling an Avatar - the ADVENT was easily overrun and is essentially entirely defeated - with legions also joining Pratal Mox and the Skirmishers. While we have some concerning scout reports from the Templars to address, governments around the world hosted congratulatory events to honor XCOM’s work.
Great Britain hosted one in particular that also recognized Zilant & Wyvern Squads. This event was of particular interest to me for reasons only I knew. What I only knew is something I’m a little ashamed of, but I feel the need to document what I observed here. I have been following the scientists’ study regarding female continence with more interest than I should have. One thing participants didn’t know was if it was continued, the scientists had developed eyeglasses that could see through clothing, detect heat, analyze bladder and bowel fullness, and detect moments of incontinence. This would have been turned over to squad leaders Gaustad and Kelly, but we won the war before it was necessary.
So, at this ceremony, I wore said glasses. And I made a special note to observe our Zilant and Wyvern squads. I told myself this was to see if battle continence was connected at all to regular continence… but the truth was I was just a pervert. Regardless, here’s what I saw.
There were delays in security with us flying a Skyranger onto British soil, so we had to rush from our travel straight to the ceremony. Fortunately, my glasses told me the squads were wearing their protection assigned during their missions. I never ordered them to - I wonder if at this point they had gotten comfortable with the protection.
The squads and I were seated on stage in a row while the various British dignitaries spoke at the lectern. I sat in the middle between Jane Kelly and Astrid Gaustad, with Zilant on the left with Astrid and Wyvern on the right with Jane. Jane wore a retro flower-patterned white romper - fashion from the 2010s making a comeback! - and my glasses indicated padded panties underneath. The short romper (which somehow had become acceptable formal wear as people re-interpreted past fashion) showed off her muscular arms and thighs. Next to her was Jessie Edwards and then Bridget McGregor, our two British (well, one Scottish) troops. Jessie was wearing a spectacularly short black dress and pullups and part of me was worried people might see up under her dress. Jessie crossed her legs tightly, though, and it seemed she was safe from that. Bridget also wore a black dress, but a long one that went to her ankles. It was loose enough to hide her tape-up diapers. Next in line was Marguerite Dupont, who was wearing a form-fitting pink dress that went down to her mid-thighs. I could see her tapping her foot and crossing her legs over each other even from the beginning of the event. Fortunately for her, though, she was wearing her typical tape-up diapers. Marguerite was a short but muscular wavy-haired brunette woman, and despite her curves showing through her pink dress, the diaper wasn’t noticeable. I did seem to detect a hint of a bulge in her belly - whether it was her bladder or bowels or both I was unsure. Next was Xuanji Jiang, who was wearing a light blue blouse and tight black formal pants, despite her tape-up diapers. Fortunately, the combination only served to make her butt look bigger rather than revealing her protection. Finally, Anastasia Davydov was at the end of the row, wearing a black dress not as short as Jesse’s, but down to her mid-thighs.
On my other side, Astrid was tapping one of her feet on the ground as she sat somewhat uncomfortably, wearing a black dress that showed off her back and came down to the top of her knees. She had pullups underneath. Next to her was Ginevra Contarini, who wore a black jumpsuit that was just baggy enough to hide her own pullups. Yessica Castro was wearing black pants and a white shirt with a pattern to honor her ethnic Mexican ancestry. Her black pants were surprisingly tight given her tape-up diapers, but it wasn’t possible to tell she was wearing a diaper; rather, the bulge just made the curvaceous woman look like she had an even more curvaceous butt.n Hannah Campbell was wearing blue trousers and a pink top. Similar to Yessica, her trousers were tighter than expected but the tape-up diapers merely made the stick-thin Hannah seem to have a larger ass than she really did. Millie Kahl was next, wearing a stretchy and tight green dress that went down to her calves and showed off her muscular build without revealing her pullups. At the end was Monifa Akerele, who was wearing a modestly loose black dress that went down to her knees and had sleeves; she certainly had no major protection to hide, wearing padded panties, so her modesty was a fashion choice.
The medals we were all receiving was the Victoria Cross and we had to listen to speeches from the British Prime Minister, British royalty, and British military leaders. This extended press conference was not good news for us, many of whom were already desperate upon arrival.
I kept glancing to my sides to see who would give up first. Marguerite was gripping the sides of her seat tightly while Astrid was bouncing her legs as they remained tightly crossed. Ginevra, too, had her legs crossed more tightly than necessary. Yessica, Bridget, and Hannah looked uncomfortable too but didn’t show any outward sign except worried faces and tense bodies.
I was not surprised to see Marguerite lose control first. She remained gripping her seat with her legs tightly crossed, but my glasses could see a growing heat in her crotch and identified it as urine. In fact, the glasses were so advanced they gave me an estimate of how much was left in her bladder based on her release. After a minute, my glasses notified me her bladder was empty. Fortunately for her, the tape-up diapers she was assigned could more than easily handle a bladder release, and there was no outward sign of her accident except a slight relaxation of Marguerite’s grip of her own seat.
Astrid let go next, and it was easier to watch her since she was right next to me. As some politician speaker was going on, hogging the limelight with a boring speech, I thought I could almost hear Astrid let go in spurts. She was wearing a pullup and seemed aware of it - the glasses noted the heat under Astrid’s black dress renewed in intervals, with pauses between spurts for a few seconds. The percent estimate left kept going down over the course of a few minutes - 85%, 79%, 70%, 61%, and so forth. Astrid sat still as this process went on, her legs shut closed and her hands in her lap like nothing was wrong. It drove me a little crazy to know that Astrid was slowly peeing sitting right next to me. Eventually, she was empty, and her strategy worked in ensuring her pullups wouldn’t overflow.
As the speeches went on, Yessica let go of her bladder into her taped up diapers, showing no outward sign. Her lack of change in posture and expression was probably the best strategy to avoid anyone noticing. Bridget, less experienced in this, winced a little and shifted her seat, putting her hands in front of her crotch as she let go. She was likely fearful of a leak, but she shouldn’t have since her diapers could take a full bladder.
During the second-to-last speaker, Hannah lost control in a way that surprised me. She shifted her weight to one side of her butt and my glasses detected her bowels let go. She was subtle enough that I think no one noticed, and she was lucky to not experience any loud and embarrassing farts as her diaper filled. She slowly lowered her butt and I imagine felt lucky she had tape-up diapers that could contain the load and the smell. My glasses detected heat up front too, showing some leak from her bladder as well.
As the final speaker wrapped up, we got up to line up and receive the cross from the King of England. I saw Ginevra leak as she got up, her knees knocking together for a second as she steadied her balance. The king beckoned me up first, so I went up to shake his hand and receive the cross in a display box. We paused for a second for a photo and he made an official comment about Britain’s gratitude and then I returned to my seat. This worked out for me as I watched the women in line. Jane & Astrid were up next as the squad leaders, then Bridget and Jesse as British (Bridget being Scottish, to be clear) soldiers. While they went, my glasses detected Yessica quietly let go of her bowels as well. Like earlier, she again made no visible sign she was letting go, but with my eyes focused on her, I could see just the faintest sign of her loss of control. Her diaper wasn’t really noticeable in her black pants because they just made her butt look bigger rather than reveal she was wearing protection, and her wetting herself hadn’t changed the shape of the diaper. Her bowel loss, however, expanded the bulge just a little bit. Her butt looked just a little bit bigger and I saw the expansion before my eyes. At the end of the day, though, she was fortunate she was wearing our strongest diapers. Despite peeing and pooping herself, they held firm.
My x-ray glasses saw a momentary burst of heat from Marguerite’s rear end as well, along with literally outlining an initial turd stuck between her cheeks. She held firm, though, turtleheading in her diaper. She was up next after Bridget and strode forward to shake the king’s hand. The stride and movement caused her to lose control even further. As she shook hands, posed, and talked to the king, her bowels slowly let go while she pretended nothing was wrong. From behind, I could also see a faint outline of her diaper now through her tight pink dress, but I doubted anyone else would suspect a thing.
The last accident in line was from Millie. While she was posing with the king, I saw she was struggling to hold back both ways and peed in bursts throughout. As she stepped away, too, she let go of her bowels a little. She kept peeing in bursts as she walked back to her seat, along with letting go of her bowels further. The combination of the two meant by the time she got back to her seat, her pullups had leaked. Fortunately for her, it didn’t stain her green dress but ran straight down her legs. Her dress went down to her ankles, so no one likely noticed, but I saw the droplets on the floor by her seat. Millie remained standing instead of sitting, and since she was the second-to-last in line, no one questioned it. Soon after, the ceremony was over and we were encouraged to mingle with the British elites who were attending the ceremony. Despite that, Marguerite, Millie, Hannah, and Yessica all quickly headed out back to the Skyranger.
Ginevra, who had leaked further since I last checked on her, also turned to go. As she walked off stage, though, her bladder and bowels both let go uncontrollably. She took baby steps to the door as she tried to prevent her pullups leaking. I think she was successful in preventing her bowels from leaking, as I didn’t see much evidence without my xray function from behind, but as she turned around momentarily, I saw her black jumpsuit had a darker patch down to her thigh in the front. She was lucky to wear black, though, and I doubted anyone else picked up on it.
As the rest mingled, I could tell Xuanji was trying to work her way to the door in a socially acceptable way. However, with every step was another person who wanted to shake her hand and congratulate her. Inevitably, mid-hand shake, I saw my glasses’ thermal imaging pick up heat from her rear. My glasses identified a turd peeking out into Xuanji’s thick diaper as she talked, pushing out further as she talked to the next person. By the time she was at the door, she had fully lost control, having let go a little bit with each person she gladhanded. Her face blushed red but other than that, she showed no sign of her loss of control. I could tell there was a subtle, larger bulge in the seat of her black pants, but I think she escaped without embarrassment.
Anastasia and Monifa, both known for their stronger control, mingled without visible desperation and headed back to the Skyranger. Bridget, Jesse, Jane, and I were stuck at the party the longest (Bridget and Jesse for being British, Jane and I for our prominent roles), being there another half hour before Bridget managed to extract herself away. I saw Jane had begun leaking into her padded panties. They wouldn’t hold a full loss of control, and soon she managed to escape the crowd too. I followed her out and as she left the crowd, Jane’s pace became frantic. She made a couple turns, clearly looking for a bathroom, before finally finding a hallway with two single-occupancy bathrooms. I quietly followed, her desperation causing her not to notice. I could see her padded panties overflow with leaks running down her legs, soaking her white romper. As she reached the door, she froze for a moment and I could see a bulge begin to form, pushing back her romper and creating a light shade of brown on the thin, white romper. She hurriedly rushed in, none the wiser that I had seen her lose control. I walked over to the door and could see droplets leading up to it on the floor. I heard rustling as Jane had to undress and take off her romper entirely to empty out her panties - a clear splash indicated when that happened.
As I stood by the bathroom, Jesse arrived. She was hunched over slightly and taking rapid baby steps. Her black dress had ridden up and her muscular legs were totally visible, with just a peek of her white pullups as well. They were lower than usual, too, and I could tell they were sagging due to being full. She seemed surprised to see me and froze in the middle of the hallway. I could see her pullups begin to leak as rivulets went down her pale left leg.
I said, “I was about to use this one but I think it’s occupied. The other one’s free, though.”
She grimaced as her pace slowed to baby steps. “Can you double check it’s free?”
I nodded, stepping into the single occupancy bathroom. For a bathroom in a royal palace, it was quite spartan but clean. I reopened the door, greeted by Jesse with pee freely falling between her legs and onto the floor. I said, “It’s empty, but, uhh…”
I was going to say it was maybe too late, but she pushed me out of the way and rushed into the bathroom, not caring that I hadn’t left the room yet. She lifted her black dress, revealing the full extent of her soaked pullups. I could see the reason for her urgency, as I saw a brown bulge grow as she hurried to the toilet. She pulled her pullups down, but it was too late - the load was in her diaper.
She was blushing bright red, her embarrassment visible on her pale skin. She glanced up however and saw my visible erection through my pants. It was my turn to blush, but she beckoned me over. When I was close enough to her, she wordlessly unzipped my pants and I didn’t stop her. Her dirty pullups still at her ankles, she began to blow me in the bathroom. I was too horny after the day’s events to consider the implications of the situation or the trouble we’d both be in if we were caught - not to mention the diplomatic incident with the British. As she blew me, she let out a small dribble of the remainder of her bladder and pooped a little as well, ensuring she was totally empty. The sounds were enough and I came in Jesse’s mouth. She swallowed and zipped my pants back up before removing her own pullups and throwing them away. She pulled her dress down, not even caring to wipe, and we walked wordlessly together to the Skyranger - clearly both of us were planning to keep that hookup a secret.
In the Skyranger, everyone grabbed their seats and we took off for our hour-long flight back to the main carrier. My glasses told me who was in trouble. Despite emptying her bladder, Bridget’s bowels were full now, too. Astrid’s was as well, and her pullups would not handle an accident from both ends the way Bridget’s tape up diapers would. Xuanji had emptied her bowels, but her bladder was still relatively full. Anastasia & Monifa, too, were beginning to reach their limit.
Being strapped into the seat, Bridget couldn’t move as her bowels involuntarily gave up. My xray could see the mess escape and spread with little room to expand outward and my sight could see Bridget’s face wince. With the multiple accidents in the ship, it wasn’t really noticeable though. Xuanji, too, gave up and justs fully let go of her bladder. Given the mess in her diaper, there was no point in suffering any longer. She was seated one over from me, and I thought I could even hear the hissing as she fully peed. Anastasia attempted to squeeze her legs shut, but I could see warmth blossom momentarily as she leaked into her padded panties. A leak they could handle, but not much more - she was in trouble.
We finally landed and three women were in trouble - Anastasia, Monifa, and Astrid. The others hurried off the plane to the locker room to clean up, but as we departed I could see Anastasia leak a little more - and this time I didn’t even need the glasses, because I could see a trickle go down her right thigh. As she stepped off the plane, too, my xray picked up her bowels moving, Anastasia pinching off the end of a turd as she stepped off the plane. Her pullups about to overflow and her bowels about to empty, she hurried to the locker room as leaks visibly formed along her thighs. Monifa was close after, and the usually in-control Nigerian had a momentary leak that no one but me knew about - my glasses informing me in the reduction of her bladder load and the warmth in her padded panties. They both, however, made it inside the locker room where I couldn’t follow them.
Astrid followed them in, a fart ringing out as she entered the room declaring her need. She pretended nothing happened as the door shut behind her, but she soon stepped out again. I was about to head to my cabin when she approached me. “Commander… the bathrooms are full in there. This is extremely unprofessional of me, but…” She winced as she likely held back a wave of desperation. “May I use your restroom?”
I nodded, acting like I wasn’t excited by the offer. “Don’t worry about it, that’s fine. Come with me.”
We entered the elevator and Astrid stood stiffly still, holding back her load. As the elevator came to a stop, she let out another fart but pretended it didn’t happen as we got off and entered my room. I could see as we entered that she was losing control. My glasses indicated her bowel contents were dropping slowly and I saw a warm lump begin to enter the seat of her dress. As she opened my bathroom door, I no longer needed even the glasses as I saw the bulge expand and cause her already full pullup to leak old urine down her legs. As she clutched the doorknob, I heard the farts and crackling of her losing control entirely as she vacated her bowels, frozen in shock. I quickly came up from behind and held her, in part to comfort her and in part to feel her bulge push back against me as she felt my own growing bulge push against her. As she continued to poop, I kissed her on the neck and then pulled off her dress. She was now naked except for her bulging pullups about to overflow. I ripped them off and disposed of them after she finally finished pooping and carried her into my personal shower. Rather than clean her up just yet, I stayed behind her and held her messy rear close as I fingered her before inserting myself. It wasn’t long before we both came and we could finally clean up in the shower. |
Car Trip Fails
It was the last weekend of summer. Nico’s family had just returned home the week before from their trip in the mountains. Jadian and Nico had been planning a camping trip together, just the two of them, as a last fun summer activity before school started back again. It took some convincing especially given that their parents know they’re boyfriends, but eventually they gave in and let them go.
Nico and Jadian were very excited since they will get to spend the whole weekend alone together. They packed enough clothes for three nights (including extra underwear in case of accidents for Jadian), snacks and a cooler with some essentials, as well as all of their camping gear. They loaded their bags and gear in the back of Nico’s old Silver Honda Civic and off they went.
Since Jadian didn’t have a driver's license, Nico drove, and Jadian sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through Facebook. After being on the road for a bit, Nico said he was thirsty and was going to take this exit and get a drink from McDonald's. They pull in to the drive-thru lane, and Nico asks if Jadian wanted a drink. Jadian shook his head and said “no, I don’t want to risk having an accident in your car.” Even with the black interior, Nico didn’t care, and sort of frowned, hoping that Jadian would get desperate to pee, which he thought was really cute to see. “Even if you had an accident, the black interior would hide it.”
Nico kept trying to talk Jadian into getting a drink- saying it “would be a long ride” and “he would get thirsty” but Jadian seemed set on no drink. Nico seemed to convince or even endorse having an accident in his car was okay. Nico was upset but accepted his boyfriend's choice and let it go. When Nico got to the window to order Jadian changed his mind, Nico ordered his large coke and Jadian spoke up and said “and a large Diet Coke.”
They got their drinks and continued driving to the campsite. Jadian and Nico talked about the camping trip and made plans, most resulted in cuddling and kissing. Even though they promised their parents they will be in separate tents they only brought one.
Nico kept watching Jadian for any signs of desperation, as he really hoped for an accident. Jadian, on the other hand, didn’t want to have on in Nico’s car even though he has started to enjoy his accidents. Jadian wasn’t sure why, and still felt very guilty he had them, but seem to end up getting hard after them lately.
Jadian was now glad he got a drink- Nico was right, it was a long car ride and he did get thirsty along the way. Jadian was still worried about having an accident despite Nico’s reassurances that an accident would be ok. This caused Jadian to be careful with his drink but he got desperate anyhow and began to cross his legs.
Nico noticed right away Jadian’s first sign of desperation and began to blush at the thought of his fantasy coming true. Now Nico just had to make sure Jadian had an accident which was more than likely going to happen. As Nico thought of ways to make his boyfriend wet himself, he failed to notice his own bladder filling up.
Jadian started to fidget more and could not sit still, his need seemed to skyrocket. Nico saw Jadian struggling to hold it but Jadian refused to say anything. Nico watched in amazement for a while but also making sure to watch the road and try to be safe at the same time. Jadian was now squirming around, still unable to sit still. Jadian felt a leak wet his white CK briefs. Panicking, Jadian crossed his legs as tight as he could.
Nico sensed the leak and finally spoke up “If you have to pee that bad, just pee”. Jadian looked at his boyfriend in shock as he couldn’t believe what he just heard, “pee my pants on purpose right here in your car but I would make a mess”. Nico glanced over at him ”It’s more damaging and painful to hold it in so I'm telling you to go”. Jadian looked confused. Nico hoped Jadian would listen and just have an accident but he didn't want to say it is cute to Jadian yet.
That's when Jadian felt another leak and had to grab himself, for a moment he thought of just peeing, after all, Nico told him to but he just couldn't. Jadian kept a death hold on his crotch but after a while, his bladder had too much and pee flooded out of his body with a loud hiss.
”NO, no, no, not here, please not here” Jadian yelled as he tried to regain control but his bladder had enough and he couldn't stop it. Pee soaked his white CK briefs turning them yellow, then soaking his tan khakis shorts. Pee pooled in his seat under his butt and soaked the black interior. When the seat had enough, pee dripped from his seat to the car floor.
Jadian couldn't help but sigh in relief as he peed his pants. He felt so guilty for having an accident in Nico’s car but he loved it at the same time and was confused to find himself getting hard. Nico watched as his cute boyfriend had an accident and soaked his shorts. The tan khakis showed his accident well and Nico found that even cuter. ”Why is this so cute?” Nico asked himself but that's when his own bladder acted up. ”Shit” Nico said and Jadian looked at him with a hurt face thinking Nico said that because of his accident.
Nico saw Jadian’s face and realized his mistake almost immediately. Nico put a hand on Jadian’s shoulder ”Sorry baby but that wasn't directed to you but to myself as I just realized I really need to pee”. Jadian’s eyes widen as he looked at Nico’s light blue cutoff jeans. ”Hold on baby, you can hold it just a few more minutes” but Nico wasn't so sure.
Nico did everything he could to hold on but as he was driving not much could be done. Nico tried putting his legs together and it worked at first, but after a while it stopped helping. Nico then tried driving with one hand and held himself with the other but felt unsafe doing so and returned both hands to the steering wheel.
Nico felt a leak wet his gray Hanes briefs and gasped ”I’m leaking”. Jadian took Nico’s hand in his, ”It it okay, just let it out. Remember what you told me about holding it in, plus, look at me, I peed myself” Nico looked over at Jadian and nodded as he began to pee. Nico shook from the adrenaline rush as pee soaked his gray Hanes briefs and light blue cutoff jeans. Nico felt as the warm pee pooled at his butt, soaking his black cloth car seat and then could hear it dripping to the car floor.
”It is okay baby just relax” but Nico could not stop shaking and began to cry. Jadian saw tears run down Nico’s face ”Baby it is okay, it happens to us all” and kissed Nico on the cheek. Nico couldn't help but to smile as his tears left but he could not stop shaking. ”Thanks, baby” Nico said to Jadian. Jadian rubbed Nico’s messy blond hair, ”Let’s pull over until you calm down, okay”? Nico shook his head and pulled over. |
Dalton peered into the distance. This line was long. Plenty of men ahead, all of them ready to empty their bladders. But none of them had as much a need as Dalton.
There were about twenty-five, thirty people in front of him. Dalton couldn't concentrate enough to count them. He'd used the bathroom at hockey games before, but he had never been this desperate, and he never had to wait this long. It seemed like the entire arena needed to piss at the same time.
Truthfully, Dalton's desperation started at the start of the second period. He had drank two large sodas to wash down his bucket of popcorn. He knew he would have to go eventually, as soda always went through his slender body quickly, but he stayed in his seat during the first intermission, focused too intently on the military marching band that was invited to entertain the fans. It didn't occur to him that he would be cursing the Marine Corps just minutes later.
After the opening faceoff, Dalton noticed his bladder. The urge came hard and fast. At first, he tensed his thighs together to try and distract himself. When that didn't work, he unzipped his thin jacket and rested it on his lap, keeping his right hand underneath and rubbing the crotch of his skinny jeans. He looked around nervously, hoping nobody got the wrong idea. When the pangs of desperation came, Dalton gently bounced his knee.
The home team scored halfway through the period. Dalton instinctively jumped up and yelled, but a jolt in his gut brought him to silence. As excited as he was, his bladder was active. He had to control himself to prevent any leaks. He figured he would be fine, that he could just wait until the end of the period to go. The bathrooms were never that busy, and besides, he was in the middle of his row and didn't want to bother anyone trying to watch the game. It won't be that long, Dalton promised himself. I'll be fine.
Dalton always had trouble holding in cold places, where his body would contract and his bladder would ache. He had wet his pants before, but never in a public place, and certainly never in a place as public as a 15,000 seat arena. Dalton felt his hips wiggling. He had slipped his other hand below the jacket on his lap. He was applying more force to his penis now, just making sure that nothing would escape. Every time a whistle stopped play, his grip tightened. When a fight broke out, Dalton couldn't help but grimace. That would add another few minutes. When the second goal of the period went in, Dalton felt compelled to stand up and cheer again, even though it shook the water inside of him and forced him to clench his pelvic muscles.
The clock ticked down, second by second. Dalton couldn't help but stare at it. He could barely focus on the game. He was rocking his body now, shifting his eyes nervously to make sure he wasn't drawing attention to himself. He knew someone must have been watching him, but they were hiding it well. Dalton's penis throbbed. His muscles had been tight for a while, and he felt them start to weaken. For the first time, a doubt crept into Dalton's mind. He knew he couldn't wet himself in public, but he feared that he wouldn't be completely dry by the time he stood in front of the urinal. The urinal...the thought made him tense his legs again. He tried not to focus on how badly he wanted to unzip his pants and use one.
The period was almost over. Dalton knew he only had a short while to go. The bathrooms were never full here. The one time he almost lost control in this building, he was able to go right to the bathroom and get relief. He was more desperate now than he was that night, but he knew he could make it. All he had to do was keep his mind off his twitching muscles and his aching bladder.
As soon as the horn sounded, Dalton leapt from his seat. His bladder shook, and Dalton had to squeeze hard to prevent a dribble. He tried not to grab himself as he shuffled out of his row. He was close to the glass, so there were a lot of stairs to climb. Each one put more and more pressure on Dalton as he jogged up to the lobby.
When he was up the stairs, Dalton stopped for a moment, faced the wall, and squeezed himself hard. He knew he was just seconds away from relief, but that only made it harder to keep it all in. All he wanted to do was burst through the bathroom door and let all of the soda inside of him pour out.
He knew how far away he was from the bathroom. He closed his eyes in concentration as he jogged toward them. He was almost there. He wasn't going to leak. He was going to make it.
He was so distracted that he bumped into the man in the back of the line. He gasped and a small bit of his pee squirted into his briefs.
Panic.
Dalton couldn't believe it. There were never this many men here. There were about twenty-five, thirty people in front of him. Dalton couldn't concentrate enough to count them.
Ahead of him in line, one man was gently swaying back and forth. Another was sipping on a water bottle, the sight of which made Dalton wince. Nobody seemed that concerned about using the bathroom. Except for Dalton, at the back of the line, trying to keep himself from making his need too obvious. He bounced on his toes, hands at his sides, concentrating on keeping his fluids contained. The door opened, and a tall man left the bathroom. Another went inside, and the door shut.
The wait between each person seemed to take forever. Even shuffling forward to get closer was hurting Dalton now. He couldn't stop himself from stuffing his hands between his legs. He felt the warm spot on his briefs rub against him. The leak didn't give him any relief, but he couldn't help but fantasize about making another. Feeling the wetness against his skin made his mission so much more difficult. How good it would feel to let a little bit out, one more drop...
Dalton leaked again. It was small, but it forced him to take action. He had moved up a few spaces in the line, and felt he was sufficiently disguised to dance the way he needed to. He shook his hips back and forth, breathing heavily as every minute's wait was so much more difficult than the last.
As he got closer, he started to hear the sound of toilets flushing. They were loud, and they were torturous. Dalton's fear became overpowering. He had already leaked twice, and he was still far from the entrance. He needed to piss so badly. He didn't know how much longer he could hold. His body was begging him to give up, to open up, to soak his pants completely. But he couldn't, not in front of all these people. He'd never be able to go out again.
But it hurt so much, and it hurt everywhere. In his belly, in his back, in his penis, not to mention in his racing mind. He started to whine softly. "Oh, I gotta piss," he muttered. "I gotta go so bad..." He was about to lose it. His whole body was shaking. The pressure buildup was more powerful than anything he'd ever felt. Just a few more spots...
The line went into the bathroom, where he could hear strong streams crashing against porcelain urinals. The sound was overwhelming. His cock begged to make that sound, to make that stream. Dalton took another step forward and saw the men leaning back, legs spread, relaxing. Letting every single drop out.
Dalton cringed as he let his drops out. This was more than a little leak. It lasted several seconds. He felt a droplet roll down the right leg of his jeans. There were three men in front of him. The swaying man at the head of the line bolted to a urinal. Dalton heard the zipper go down, the first drops splash out, the relief. There were two men in front of him. Dalton was doubled over now. His bladder was spasming. He felt the flood crashing inside of him. He was shaking wildly, squirming back and forth. Another man walked toward the urinals, unzipped, and let go. Dalton whimpered. He looked at the row of men. He knew what they were doing. He could hear it and he could see it.
The last man in front of Dalton saw an open spot, took down his pants, and began to use the urinal. He had a strong stream. He sighed.
Dalton couldn't take it. His stream started to trickle out. He felt his briefs get warmer, and a dark patch started to grow on his jeans. He squeezed himself as hard as he could. His fingers were wet. He couldn't stop himself.
A space opened, and so did Dalton. As he ran, his bladder surrendered. The stream was no longer restrained. It shot out at full force, soaking Dalton's underwear and running down his leg. He clawed at his belt, quickly undoing it, ripping the button loose, unzipping his jeans, pulling down his briefs, and spraying piss into the urinal. He aimed with both hands, closed his eyes, and moaned.
An arc of golden piss shot through the air. The power was uncontrollable. The pain of Dalton's stretched bladder started to subside, replaced by a rush of euphoria. He was shaking with adrenaline. The sound of crashing liquids had tortured him just moments ago, but now, it was like a heavenly choir. Time stood still.
Dalton didn't know how long it lasted. He knew he had pissed more he ever had before. He knew the pain, the despair, the relief.
Dalton was dizzy when it was over. Releasing his muscles after all that time disoriented him. He looked down at his jeans. A round wet spot had formed on the side of his crotch. He pulled his pants back up and tied his jacket around his waist. Nobody had to know. |
I posted this story back in my blog in June 2016 and something came up in another thread about students at a test not being able to go to the bathroom and it made me think of this story so I thought I would post it here.
This is the experience that the story refers to. The story is very much dramatized and I think I made it more interesting in my account of it by adding details. I do remember that one of the questions on the final was about the Industrial Revolution, the essay portion, but at the time I probably didn't think to make the connection to bathrooms and the Einstein thing was just something I thought of while I was writing the story. So I made the whole thing more dramatic and exciting, because as a writer that is what I do, but it is based on a real experience and here is a reposting of what I originally posted in my blog.
"Another time we had a shorter social studies final. That one I think was only two hours or three hours. But the thing was that you could leave after a certain minimum amount of time. I was a really good student was able to finish it pretty quickly. I think that that social studies final or Regents or whatever that our teacher so played up turned out to be one of the easiest tests imaginable. Even the terrible students said that it was an easy test. So I was finished pretty quickly (I think I got like a 97 on it, not that I'm bragging or anything) but we were still not allowed to leave. Unfortunately, and I don't know why, but that they had to pee so freaking bad! I don't know if it was just, I just really have no idea why. But I had to go BAD! Unfortunately I was bursting and we weren't allowed to leave for at least 45 min. So we just kind of had to sit there. So let me put this into perspective for you – I had nothing to do for the next 45 min. to distract me from my aching bladder. Finally we were allowed to leave and I pretty much bolted. Much to my horror all of the bathrooms were locked! But fortunately I was like one block away from my house (the school is literally down the street) so I pretty much ran home and man was it good to pee!"
Now here is the story, hope you enjoy!
The Bladder Test
I remember that it was the day of our social studies final, but I wasn't worried, social studies was one of the easiest subjects in the world. Of course this test counted for 25% of our grade, so it was no laughing matter. But I made sure to come prepared. I had my pens, pencils, and a big bottle of water to stay well hydrated because it was a super hot June day.
"Okay class we will now begin the first part of the test, the multiple-choice part," the instructor said as he came into the room.
That was when I noticed a tingle in my bladder, so I raised my hand.
"Yes," the teacher said as he pointed to me.
"Can I go to the bathroom before the test starts?"
"You should have gone before class."
"I will only be a minute, the bathroom is just down the hall."
"I am sorry but you will just have to wait."
Damn, why didn't I go to the bathroom before the test! Oh well, I wasn't quite desperate yet. Besides, this was social studies, one of the easiest subjects of all. The test might have been scheduled for three hours but I could probably finish in maybe an hour or so tops.
"Okay class you can now begin," the teacher said after he had finished handing out all of the test papers.
This will be a piece of cake I thought as I rapidly began doing the test. I breezed through the multiple-choice questions and time just seemed to fly by. For all the hype that they put up about this test it was one of the easiest tests I had ever taken. I can't believe that for the last month of school all the teacher talked about was how extremely difficult this test was and how he thought we were all going to fail.
By the time I had finished the multiple-choice questions I was feeling more confident, but I was also feeling an increasing tightness in my bladder that was growing harder and harder to ignore. No matter, I thought to myself, on to the essay portion of the test.
The essay portion of the test was about the Industrial Revolution. That made me think to myself whether they had indoor plumbing during the Industrial Revolution. Just where did people go to pee a century or two ago? How often did people in those factories get a pee break? These are questions that you never see addressed in history class, I wonder why not, I know that is something that I would like to know.
No matter I would just breeze through this essay and then I would be on my way to the bathroom and to blessed blessed relief! The essay was easy and I think I breezed through it faster than I even thought possible, but then I was highly motivated by an achingly full bladder.
"I'm finished," I said as I handed my test to the teacher. "Can I go now?"
"That was awfully fast, are you sure you don't want to double check everything?" he said as he took the test paper from me.
"I already did, it was a very easy test."
"I'm afraid that everyone has to stay for a minimum of two hours."
"What?" I asked in disbelief.
"The state has mandated that everyone has to stay at least two hours regardless of how long they take on the test. You still have another 45 minutes before I can let you leave."
My heart sunk. "Can I at least go to the bathroom?"
The teacher shook his head. "I am sorry but nobody is allowed to leave the classroom until the two hours is up."
I felt like pleading with the teacher but I could see that it was hopeless, so with resignation I went back to my desk and sat down. By now my urge to pee was completely impossible to ignore and getting up to hand my exam to the teacher certainly didn't help. But it was only 45 minutes, that time should pass pretty quickly. I just needed to distract myself and take my mind off of it.
I looked at the pens and pencils sitting on my desk and the bottle of water and then I looked at the clock slowly ticking away second by second. I had absolutely nothing to distract myself!
As discreetly as possible I crossed my legs under my desk and tried to lean back in a way that was comfortable and would take the pressure off of my bladder. I managed to get myself in a semi-comfortable position but I still couldn't ignore the full feeling in my bladder.
I began to play with my hair, twirling it in my fingers and chewing on it a little bit, as I often do when I am nervous. I then took my pen and began chewing on it, another nervous habit of mine. The pen didn't taste very good in my mouth and that made me thirsty. I knew that I shouldn't drink anymore considering I already had to pee extremely bad, but I was so thirsty I couldn't resist so I gulped down some water, which was refreshing, but certainly wasn't helping my bladder situation.
I looked at the clock again to see that I still had a good 40 minutes to wait before I could finally relieve myself, so I had to distract myself. I started slowly shaking my leg, yet another nervous habit, in hopes that it would take some more pressure off, but it didn't really help very much, so I just crossed my legs more tightly and tried to resist the urge to grab myself.
I decided to put my head down on the desk and thought that maybe I could go to sleep. No, of course I couldn't go to sleep, not at an uncomfortable desk with a painfully full bladder. In a short time I was back up and I still had a good 35 minutes left before I could leave. Time seems to move in direct proportion to the contents of your bladder. The fuller your bladder is, the slower that time goes. I think that Einstein had something to say about that, the bladder relativity theory or something like that.
I decided to look out the window thinking maybe that would help take my mind off of things. I could see a squirrel climbing up a tree and that was about it. Looking out the window was not a great distraction. And then it started raining, which really didn't help!
I tried to ignore the sound of the rain but it started to pour and I could hear the rain gently trickling down the side of the building and pounding against the window. That sound of constant rushing water was driving me absolutely frantic so I decided to look back at the clock. Still a half-hour, damn!
Next I started looking around the classroom, trying to distract myself by looking at all the geographical maps on the wall. I bet right now somewhere in the world millions of people were getting relief and weren't stuck waiting in a classroom to use the bathroom. What type of sadism motivates a person to keep people away from a bathroom when they desperately need it? I already finished the test so I was just sitting there doing absolutely nothing, this was unfair, it was inhumane! I could understand if I was still taking the test, but I had finished a long time ago, why did I have to wait here with all the others who are taking forever.
Surely I couldn't be the only one experiencing such bladder distress. I looked around and most of the other students were still working on the test, but then I saw Jenny, a very skinny little girl in our class, and it looked like her legs were jittering a mile a minute, and I could see her subtly crossing them, well maybe not very subtly. I then saw her hand moved between her legs to grab herself. She was definitely desperate all right!
I turned away from Jenny before briefly looking back. It was entertaining seeing her in a similar predicament to me, but the bad thing was that it wasn't particularly helping me to take my mind off of it! Still I couldn't help but glance over in her direction every couple of seconds. She was totally driving me crazy.
Finally Jenny raised her hand.
"Yes?" the teacher asked.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" Jenny asked clearly fidgeting in her seat.
"I don't know, can you?"
"I mean may I go to the bathroom?"
"I am sorry but nobody can leave until they have completed the exam and you have to be here for a minimum of two hours, which means you still have 25 minutes left to wait."
"But it's an emergency!"
"I am sorry, you will just have to hold it."
I have to admit seeing Jenny in a state of such despair kind of put a smile on my face. I wasn't in this alone, and as anyone can tell you when you're the only one who has to go to the bathroom it is that much worse. Maybe it is Schadenfreude, taking pleasure in the misery of others, which helps to take away from your own misery. But just knowing that Jenny wasn't getting to go to the bathroom either gave me a sense of satisfaction and I almost felt like I was in a battle of wills. You could easily hold better than Jenny and longer too, I told myself.
With 20 minutes left until we could finally leave I have to admit that I was getting really frantic. I had my legs crossed really tight, my hands grabbing myself as discreetly as possible and I was starting to rub my butt against the uncomfortable hard plastic seat, or whatever material the desk was made of. I was dying, but I couldn't stop drinking either because I was thirsty. And that rain, it just wouldn't stop!
I kept looking back at Jenny and each time I looked I could see she was getting more and more frantic. She started tapping her feet and it took every amount of willpower for me not to do the same. Then she started tapping her pencil on the desk and I could see every so often she was looking at the clock as well. Only 15 minutes to go, but every minute seemed like an hour. Once again Einstein's relativistic effect of time slowing down relative to the fullness of one's bladder.
Jenny raised her hand again.
"Yes?" the teacher asked.
"Can I please go to the bathroom, it is a real emergency!"
"You only have to wait another 10 minutes."
Jenny put her hand down and put it back between her legs. I have to admit that I couldn't take my eyes off of her, seeing her twisting like a pretzel in her chair, but damn it was driving me crazy. I had to pee so bad but I think that Jenny probably had to go even worse.
The final 10 minutes seemed to go agonizingly slow and I couldn't take my eyes off Jenny. But then finally the announcement came.
"If you are finished with your exam you can leave now," the teacher said. "Just make sure to bring your test up to the desk."
Before I could get up I saw Jenny practically bolted out the door after handing in her test. I followed shortly behind and ran down the hall to the nearest bathroom. I saw Jenny standing outside of the door pushing on it.
"What's wrong?" I asked her.
"It's not open!"
"What do you mean it's not open?"
"They locked it."
"Damn." I forgot that they often locked all the ladies room except the one down by the nurses office. I thought that I should be nice and tell Jenny that, but then I was kind of enjoying seeing her dancing in front of the door like that. But soon enough Jenny ran off, I assume to look for another bathroom.
I quickly went down the hall to the bathroom by the nurse but it was also locked. "No," I said as I pounded on the door. I had to pee so freaking bad at that point and walking around certainly wasn't helping. "Screw it," I said as I ran out of the building. My house was only a block away.
I ran home faster than I ever thought possible and started knocking on the door and then ringing the doorbell. "Come on, hurry up, I have to pee!" I shouted as I continued to ring the doorbell.
Finally my mom opened the door. "How was the test?" she asked.
"It was fine, I have to pee!" I said as I ran upstairs and into the bathroom.
Finally I jerked down my pants and my panties and sat my ass down on the toilet seat and let her rip. I must have peed forever and ever it seemed, my body trembling from the intensity of it. It was one of the most satisfying pees of my life and I had learned my lesson very firmly.
"I think I'll go get something to drink now," I said as I went to my refrigerator and got more water. What, I was home now, so I could pee whenever I wanted! And that was what I learned from social studies. True freedom isn't about fighting wars and building empires, it's about being able to go where you want when you want, and nobody can stop you. |
This current story I wrote the other night and it was inspired by a conversation I had in another thread. Someone was talking about how they wanted to write a story about someone lost in this place that is like a maze and they can't find the bathroom and that made me think of The Parking Garage episode of Seinfeld, and then I got the idea to do sort of a gender reverse version of that episode. Basically in that episode Jerry becomes desperate to pee and then gets arrested for public urination while they are lost in the parking garage. In the version that I thought of is a reimagining where although the other guys are desperate as well, the main focus is on Elaine who is the one who is desperate and can't go to the bathroom as easily as guys can. You can enjoy this even if you are not a fan of Seinfeld, but if you are a fan of Seinfeld I have lots of references to stuff from other episodes as well that I think just fit really well into the story so I hope you enjoy. So here you go! And I have definitely been in lots of situations where it was hard to find the ladies room in a crowded place and it really is frustrating the way they hide the restrooms like that so I think it's a very real type of situation and highly relatable. Also available in my blog at https://desperatejill83.livejournal.com/2989.html
Desperate in the Parking Garage
Elaine was walking really quickly making rapid long strides as she walked through the parking garage as she held up her little bag containing a fish.
"You are walking rather funny Elaine, is something the matter?" Jerry asked.
"Nothing is the matter, I just want to get home so that my fish don't die," Elaine said as she sort of shifted from leg to leg dancing in place. Looking at the water in the bag containing her fish didn't make it any easier to focus on ignoring the fact that her bladder was extremely full because she hadn't gone to the bathroom the entire day.
Jerry shook his head. "Are you sure? You look kind of antsy."
"I am antsy because I want to get home so that I can put my fish in a fishbowl rather than keeping it in this little bag where it will surely die after a while," Elaine said shaking her head. "You know that fish don't survive very long in these little baggies."
Jerry smiled. "I just wish we had managed to find a bathroom in that place. Why is it that they seem to hide the bathrooms around here? Don't they realize that people need to urinate while they are shopping and spending the entire day away from home?"
"But it seems like they especially hide the ladies room really well," Elaine said as she continued to shift from foot to foot. "Not that I need the ladies room or anything like that, or even would use a disgusting public restroom like that even if I really did have to go."
"Really you wouldn't, even if there was a bathroom available?"
"Why did you see one?"
Jerry shook his head. "No I haven't seen a bathroom all day, but why do you ask if you don't need one?"
"I'm just curious, you know from a sociological point of view."
"From a sociological point of view? How is it a bathroom is something that would have something to do with sociology?"
"You can tell a real lot about society by its placement and availabilities of bathrooms, especially along gender lines. Did you ever notice that there is always a line for the ladies room but none at the men's room?"
"Yeah I occasionally noticed that, when I use the bathroom really quickly. You women should definitely hurry it up in there if you don't want to have long lines."
Elaine wanted to argue with Jerry but the pressure in her bladder was mounting and she didn't really feel like getting in a sustained sociological argument about bathrooms while she felt on the brink of wetting herself.
"You know I can tell you where the best bathrooms are anywhere in the city," George said.
"Do you know where the bathroom is around here?" Jerry asked.
George shook his head. "Nope, I'm afraid not, and I doubt a place like this would have a very nice bathroom, probably not the type that you would actually want to use."
"You men and your toilets," Elaine said shaking her head and trying to be very subtle about the fact that she was crossing her legs and bending at the knees a bit.
"Are you sure you don't need a toilet Elaine, you look like you are a bit antsy and you haven't used the bathroom all day just like the rest of us," Jerry said.
"I do not need a bathroom!" Elaine said as she stomped her foot in an effort to try and take her mind off of her bladder, but the jostling of her foot just made the pressure in her bladder more intense. She looked at the little fish in the baggie and she thought to herself how nice it must be for the fish able to pee wherever the hell it wants even though it meant swimming in its own urine.
"If you need to pee why don't you just go between two cars," Kramer said.
"You men are animals, peeing wherever the hell you want, don't you ever think about holding it maybe," Elaine said trying not to make it obvious she was dancing in place.
"I do take some pride in being able to hold it as I think that there is probably too much urinary freedom in this society," Jerry said.
"Yeah if you're a guy," Elaine said under her breath as she gritted her teeth and pressed her knees together.
"What was that Elaine?" Jerry asked with a smile, indicating that he probably heard what she said and knew exactly what her situation was at the moment.
"Nothing, let's just find the damn car as quickly as possible!" Elaine shouted in agitation.
"You mean for the fish right?" Jerry said raising his eyebrow and smiling.
"Yes, of course for the fish!" Elaine said as she held up the little bag containing her fish and pointed to it.
"This fish desperately needs to get home as quickly as possible as it's a matter of life and death."
George snorted. "It's not like the fish is going to explode if it doesn't get home in a certain amount of time."
Elaine really wished that he hadn't used the word explode as she got right up in his face. "Listen, this fish is going to die, and I am not going to let this fish die on my watch, you got it!"
"Okay okay, calm down Elaine," George said as he backed off. "You don't need to get uptight and all crazy about it. Don't be hysterical."
"I am not hysterical, I just want to get home so that I can get my fish in the fishbowl, I really want to get that fish on the bowl," Elaine said as she pictured her ass sitting on a bowl of its own, namely the toilet bowl.
"Does anybody remember where we parked the car?" Kramer asked.
"I thought it was around here somewhere, these parking garages are like a maze, like a labyrinth or something, makes me think that maybe some type of Minotaur is just gonna jump out and eat us or something," George said as he shook his head.
"Well let's find it quickly, my fish are dying here," Elaine said as she held up the fish in Jerry's face.
"Are you sure it's your fish that is dying," Jerry said as he could clearly see that Elaine was quite desperate to go to the bathroom, probably even more than he was.
Elaine nodded. "Of course it's my fish, I'm not not the one who is going to die if I don't get home and get this on the bowl right away." Once again all she could think of was sitting down on the toilet bowl and letting loose.
They continued walking around for several minutes but they saw no sign of their car anywhere. At one point they saw a guy with a hose who was just using it to sort of spray down the floor. When Elaine saw that she tightly crossed her legs and started bobbing up and down.
""Do you really have to be using that hose in here?!" Elaine shouted as the sound of all that running water was driving her frantic.
"Hey I have to clean the floor somehow," the man said.
"Well it's really rude to be spraying all that water all over the place like that."
"But how is that rude?" the man asked as he scratched his head and looked puzzled.
"Yes Elaine, I am wondering exactly what is rude about spraying a hose all over the place," Jerry said as he seemed to put his hands in his pocket as though he were trying to subtly grab himself.
"Nothing, it just is," Elaine said. "You could get somebody wet with it, and believe me I really really don't want to get wet right now." All Elaine could think about was the fact that she wanted to piss herself, and seeing all that running water was just making that feeling even more intense. Luckily she could see that Jerry seemed to be in a similar situation, so that gave her some leverage.
"You guys I don't think we're ever going to find the car," George said.
"Or a damn bathroom," Elaine said under her breath.
"What was that Elaine?" Jerry asked with a smile.
"Nothing, I'm just really concerned about my fish," she said as she once again held up the bag containing her fish, and at that moment all she could think about was peeing into the bag, even though she didn't think it would hold all of her urine and it would surely kill her fish.
"Hey there's a woman, maybe she could give us a ride to help us look for our car," George said as he approached the woman. "Hi I am George. I hate to ask this but do you think maybe you could help drive us around the parking garage? My friends and I have been lost for what seems like more than a half hour just looking for our car and we can't seem to find it anywhere."
"My name is Lucy, sure I will drive you around, you seem like nice people," Lucy said as she opened her car door.
"Thank you, it's a real emergency," Elaine said as she very slowly sat down and crossed her legs tightly, as she didn't want to soak the back seat of this poor woman's car.
"An emergency?" Lucy asked.
"Yeah she's worried that her fish are going to die if she doesn't get them to the bowl right away," Jerry said "Right Elaine?"
"Yes of course, what other type of emergency did you think I was referring to," Elaine said as Lucy began driving around the parking garage."Hey watch those speed bumps!" The speed bump really jostled Elaine's bladder and only by grabbing herself discretely was she able to avoid losing control completely.
"Let's listen to some music," Lucy said as she turned on the radio which was playing the song don't go chasing waterfalls.
"Do you think maybe you could change the station," Elaine said as she gritted her teeth and dug her nails tightly into the fabric of the car seat.
"What's wrong with this song?" Kramer asked.
"Let's just change to a different station," Elaine said as Lucy turned the dial and the song raindrops keep falling on my head began playing. "How about another one?" Lucy turned the dial again and they were playing the song under pressure. "Actually maybe it would be easier to concentrate on finding the car without any music, music can be really distracting when you are desperately looking for something." Elaine had to admit that as she was looking out the window she was looking as much for a bathroom as she was looking for the car. Although she hated public bathrooms right now she would take anything that she could get.
"I know, why don't I tell everybody a joke, I have some really great jokes," George said. "Okay so these two Scientologists walk into a bar –"
"Get out, get out right now!" Lucy said as she stopped the car and forced them to get out before driving off in anger.
As they looked at the back of her car driving away they saw a bumper sticker with an image of a volcano that said Dianetics on it and a license plate that said luvLRon on it.
George shook his head. "Those Scientologists just can't take a joke I guess."
"Way to go George, you probably killed my fish," Elaine said.
"Well how was I supposed to know she was affiliated with that group," George said as he shook his head.
"Okay, now I really do need a bathroom," Jerry said. "Is anybody coming?"
"Why?" Elaine asked.
"I think I'm just going to have to go between two cars," Jerry said.
"What, are you an animal like a dog or something like that?" Elaine said shaking her head. "What about how you take pride in holding it and how we have too much urinary freedom in society?"
Jerry shook his head. "Normally I wouldn't but it's that or piss myself, and there is no pride in wetting your pants. And if a man doesn't have the freedom to relieve himself to avoid wet pants then can we even say that we still live in a free society?"
"Sure, now you get all philosophical about it," Elaine said. "If I recall correctly Patrick Henry didn't say give me the liberty not to piss myself or give me death. You men are such animals when it comes to relieving yourselves."
"Sorry Elaine, but what's more animallike, wetting yourself or relieving yourself in a more sanitary manner that expels the liquid just the same but while keeping your pants dry," Jerry said. "Now the three of you stand guard, I'm going to go pee between these two cars."
Elaine was infuriated but she stood there with George and Kramer blocking the view of Jerry as he started peeing on the wall between the two cars. The sound of him urinating was making Elaine practically want to scream but she tried her best to maintain her composure. Knowing that Jerry was going to the bathroom and that they were now no longer on an equal playing field just made her have to go even more. But she wasn't going to give in and go to the bathroom and degrade herself by squatting in a parking garage like a dog.
"You know I think I have to go too," George said. "It has been a long time and I don't think we are going to find the car anytime soon. A parking garage may not be the bathroom at the Ritz-Carlton but when you gotta go you gotta go and you take what you can get."
"After you're done I have to go," Kramer said.
"Oh for Christ's sake!" Elaine said as she shook her head. "You men really are all pigs."
So Elaine stood there trying to drown out the sound of George and Kramer taking a piss but now knowing that everybody had gone except her she could barely contain herself. She was shifting wildly from leg to leg and crossing and uncrossing herself as she danced around in place.
"What about you Elaine?" Jerry said.
"What about me?" Elaine said as she pointed to herself as she continued shifting from leg to leg.
"Well are you going to go to the bathroom as well?" Jerry asked.
"I don't have to go to the bathroom!" Elaine said as she pointed to herself and looked away contemptuously.
"Come on Elaine, we're not stupid, you can barely stand still," Jerry said. "I had to go to the bathroom, George and Kramer had to go to the bathroom, you've been without a bathroom all day just like us and we know you have been drinking a lot. So don't even try to tell us that you don't have to go to the bathroom."
Elaine sort of danced in place and screamed. "Okay so I do have to go to the bathroom, so what?!"
"So do you want to pop a squat between the cars?" Kramer asked.
Elaine shook her head.
"There's no shame in it Elaine," Jerry said. "We all did it."
"Well firstly it's much easier for you guys to be discreet about it," Elaine said as she held up her finger and counted the number one. "Secondly unlike you guys I am not some type of animal. I am a lady and unlike you men I don't view the entire world as my own personal toilet. You know what I view as a toilet, a toilet, that's it. And I will continue holding it until I get to a toilet because I have more self-control than you guys."
"Are you sure Elaine?" Jerry asked.
"I've never been more positive about anything in my life," Elaine said once again looking away contemptuously as all of them heard the sound of rain trickling down from outside. All of them looked at Elaine and Elaine looked back at them and they all sort of smirked at her. "Oh shut up, let's just find the damn car already, my fish are dying here!"
"That's not the only thing that's dying here," George said under his breath.
"What was that," Elaine said as she got right up in his face and grabbed his chin. "Was that really what you meant to say or maybe was it the opposite of what you meant to say?"
"Come on Elaine let's just find the car," Jerry said. "The sooner that we find the car the sooner you can get home and put your fish on that bowl."
"I just want to put my ass on that bowl," Elaine said under her breath as they continued walking and walking and walking as the rain continued pouring and pouring and pouring.
After another 20 minutes of not finding the car Elaine could barely contain herself. She knew if she didn't go to the bathroom she was going to wet herself, and the thought of wetting herself in public was more humiliating than anything she could imagine.
"I don't think that we are ever going to find the car," Kramer said as he pointed in one direction.. "Why don't I look over here?"
"Okay you guys look in that direction, I think the car might be over here," Elaine said as she pointed in the opposite direction and began rapidly running off before looking around to make sure that nobody was looking. She grabbed the sides of her skirt and started rubbing the material between her fingers. "Okay Elaine you can do this, nobody's looking, there's no shame in it and nobody ever needs to know."
Elaine slowly and carefully maneuvered herself between two cars and began pulling down her skirt and panties until she was squatting with her ass out between two cars. She sat there for a minute and despite the fact that the pressure in her bladder was almost unbearable now she couldn't pee out a single drop.
"God damn my inhibitions," Elaine said as she started whistling and trying to think of running water, waterfalls, puddles and a gentle spring rain, but no matter what she did she couldn't get a single drop to come out, even though she could feel like she was about ready to explode. She never realized just how pee shy she was even when nobody was looking, except then she looked up and saw a man with a flashlight shining it in her face.
"What are you doing there young lady?" the police officer said as he lifted her up and she pulled up her skirt and panties.
"I wasn't doing what you think I was doing, I was just looking for a lost contact lens," Elaine said.
As the security officer dragged Elaine away that was when she saw Jerry, George and Kramer waving to her.
"Elaine we found the car!" Jerry said.
"I think Elaine might be in trouble," Kramer said as they watched her get dragged off.
As Elaine sat there across from the security officer she had her legs tightly crossed and was struggling with all of her willpower not to piss herself.
"I wasn't trying to pee between two parked cars like some animal," Elaine said. "I really was looking for my lost contact lens."
"With your skirt and panties at your ankles with your naked ass hanging out in a squatting position?" the officer said with a raised eyebrow.
"Look you don't understand, I have had a real difficult day," Elaine said shaking her head. "I just really want to get home, because if I don't get home and get to that bowl right away my fish are going to die."
The officer smiled. "I think you're thinking about getting to another bowl."
"I have a bladder condition, don't you realize I could get a bladder infection from holding it all day, I could get a urinary tract infection," Elaine said. "I am very prone to them and I was just thinking of my health. Wouldn't you have done the same in a similar situation? Should I damage my kidneys, a major organ, just for the sake of social propriety? And why don't you have any easily spotted bathrooms around this place, don't you realize that people have to pee during the day?!"
"Actually we have a bathroom right down the hall."
"Then may I please at least use the bathroom before you decide to press charges against me?" Elaine shifted and rocked back and forth in her seat as she tightly crossed her legs and gritted her teeth.
The officer laughed. "Wow you really do have to go. Well you know what, I am understanding, so I guess this is a first offense, so okay I will not press charges and you can go use the bathroom."
"Really?" Elaine said practically glowing with enthusiasm.
"Yeah, go ahead."
"Thank you!" Elaine shouted as she bolted from her chair and ran down the hallway where another woman beat her to the bathroom. "Please I really need the bathroom, it's an emergency!"
"I'm sorry but I was here first," the woman said as she grabbed the handle. "Otherwise you'd be the one holding the handle to the door to the bathroom and be sitting on the toilet and peeing right now."
"And who the hell are you?" Elaine asked as she danced from foot to foot.
"I'm Susie," she said as she opened the bathroom door, quickly went inside and slammed the door in Elaine's face.
Elaine tried to open the door but found it was locked and she began pounding on it and screaming. "Susie!"
"Well you are lucky that the officer was nice," Jerry said as he met up with Elaine later.
"This never would have happened to me if I had a penis," Elaine said.
"You should have gone while we were all going so that we could have stood guard for you," George said.
"George, shut up," Elaine said. "After everything we have been through I just want to get home and hopefully my fish will survive long enough to make it there." She looked at the fish swimming around in its bag and she once again thought how disgusting it is that it was swimming around in its own urine, but she still envied it for having a bathroom everywhere around it.
"Guys," Kramer said.
"What?!" Elaine said as she looked at him as they approached the entrance of the parking garage.
"I think I forgot where we parked again," Kramer said as he scratched the back of his head.
Elaine shook her head, took her large coffee and dumped it out on the floor because after everything else that happened she wasn't taking chances again. |
Reasons she couldn’t go: Pride
Paula was the only girl in her family. The youngest of five her parents were so convinced hey were having another boy they never bothered with the gender scan and even named her Paul, having to hastily add an ‘a’ at the end in shock the day she was born. By the time she was 2 she preferred her brother)s hand me down dungarees and joggers to the frilly dresses everyone tried to put on her, pulling tights off every time someone put them on her.
As she grew Paula was a wonderful mix of confident female but strong and as fit as any of her brothers. She could score a goal at football, down a pint and her favourite place was on the builders site with her dad, but yet she could dress to impress with skinny jeans, sleeveless top and incredible make up skills that made even her brothers turn their heads. Smart, savvy, and determined Paula left school with straight A’s but bucked any thought of going to university, determined instead to go into building and expand her father’s business.
Paula could put her hand to most things: building, plastering, roofing, plumbing and even basic electrics, though roofing soon became a firm favourite as she loved the climbing and danger of being on the roof. Being surrounded by men didn’t phase her one bit, it was natural, but she always felt she had to prove both her ability and strength just because she happened to be female.
Paula had spent her evenings promoting her dad’s business on social media, an area he hadn’t even even thought about. She made a short video for tiktok, an advert for YouTube and a bright shareable poster for twitter and Facebook. Within hours the phone was ringing and she organised visits and pricing. Her father was delighted and thanked Paula by making her project manager on a large church roof replacement that would take over a week to complete. Paula was delighted, ordering the parts, booking scaffolding and ringing delivery companies for a skip and tiles.
Paula arrived on scene in a pair of work jeans, a short sleeved t-shirt and her protective hat, and fasted the protective clips around her. The scaffolding was erected and the team of male colleagues ready to go. She finished her take away tea, tossed the cup in the skip and climbed up the scaffolding to start. The thrill of stripping the old roof excited Paula as she joked and laughed with the lads. The sun was out and soon Paula shouted for them all to have a break. They all made their way down and Davie was nominated to go to the shop for cans of cold juice. Paula drank hers in minutes before shouting to the others to head up as soon as they were ready.
The church was closed and Sarah was aware there was no nearby toilets on the high street but up on the roof she spotted a number of the guys freely pissing discreetly at the back of the church out of sight of the public. Her dad had always reminded her to order port a loos but Paula felt the expense could be better spent elsewhere. The guys never complained and she learnt to hold all day anyway so if no-one complained she wasn’t going to either.
After another break for late lunch the old roof was finally off and Paula spent the rest of the afternoon securing tarpaulin to keep the building water tight overnight. It proved much more difficult than planned, not helped by the fact by mid afternoon Paula really needed the toilet. Down below she watched frustratingly as Davie pissed freely behind the church as she crossed her legs on the scaffolding and gritted her teeth. If only the plastic cover would secure so she could finish and get home to the toilet. If only she could overcome her pride and piss behind the church like all the others!
Hitting another glitch Paula radioed for the team to gather at the side of the building to discuss how to secure the tarpaulin best overnight. Thankful to be on the ground Paula waited while the others joined her, moving around loads and stepping from foot to foot. Hearing her dad’s voice in her mind reminding her to always order the port a loo she bit her lip and crossed her legs, wishing she had listened to him instead of thinking she knew better. She was too proud to tell him he was right as she checked she was still alone before quickly grabbing between her legs. She needed the building water tight and quick because it wasn’t just the building that needed protecting from leaks right now!
Tam, an experienced older man on the team came to Paula’s rescue as he suggested tying the tarpaulin to the scaffolding for tonight and securing with bricks from the debris. Paula agreed, both because the idea was great but also because she didn’t have time to waste as her bladder continued to pulse and her pussy tingled in desperation. It was getting harder to keep her need from the team as she couldn’t stand still as they discussed and agreed the best places to tie the sheet. A few of the guys looked teasingly as her, one even jokingly asking if she was auditioning for ‘worlds best dancer’ on TV. Paula laughed it off but felt her cheeks redden regardless.
Paula could easily have left the guys to tie the tarpaulin but she hated them thinking she was skiving so she once again climbed the scaffolding and took up heavy bricks to weigh the covering down. Finally she was satisfied it was water tight and she released the team to go home before returning bright and early the following day. As they each headed away Paula checked the coast was clear and grabbed her crotch again as she stood at the side of her lorry. Her bladder hurt and the waist of her jeans dug in so Paula undid the clip and climbed into the drivers cab, absolutely desperate for a bathroom.
She bounced on the seat with both hands in her crotch as she cursed herself for not getting a port a loo. Suddenly remembering she would be back again tomorrow and it was close to 5pm she picked up her mobile and ran through her contacts deciding to swallow her pride and book a port a loo for the rest of the week. Of course there was no phone number in her contacts as she’d refused to book one before so with one hand clutched tightly between her thighs Paula called her dad hoping he could help.
The phone rang but went to his answer phone while Paula left a breathless message as she bounced frantically in the drivers seat, her knees hitting the steering wheel often. There was no way she could possibly drive in the state she was in and Paula decided there was nothing left but to ditch her pride and head to the back of the church as all the others had done and pee outside. Still holding her mobile she started hobbling around the building when her mobile rang. Paula saw it was her dad and instinctively answered. As she got closer to the rear of the church her phone signal cut right back to the point she could hardly hear her dad.
Paula was left with a problem: cut her dad off, pee behind the church and risk having to do this all week knowing if a port a loo wasn’t ordered before the company shut she’d most likely be stuck all week in the same situation or wait long enough to get her dad to order a port a loo tonight but risk peeing herself right now.
Paula couldn’t bring herself to cut her dad off and pride prevented her telling him that she was so absolutely desperate to pee she was seconds away from wetting. Embarrassed and sweating she leaned back on the scaffolding in tears as she tried to tell her dad the site details to order a portable toilet. As she gave him dates and postcodes she wrapped her legs around the scaffolding and pulled herself close as if cuddling it. The pressure in her bladder eased very slightly with having something hard against it but nothing could hold off the inevitable as poor Paula wet herself spectacularly whilst her dad ordered the very thing that could have prevented it happening.
If only Paula hadn’t been so full of pride. Then again haven’t we all found ourselves in difficult situations at times and wished we could swallow our pride and just say we made a mistake. I know I have and ust like Paula mine was also bathroom related but that’s a story for another theme! |
Another story from the Cold War Gone Hot with gratuitous accidents. If you liked Major Simmons you'll love this one. If you didn't I'll report you to the House Un-American Activities Committee.
____________________________________________________________
The wait was the worst part. On the ground, there was always the FAL and L9, or failing that, a knife and a spade. But here, in the dark belly of a ponderous transport, one had no defense but luck to ward off the fate of so many armed-and-ready soldiers shot from the sky. It wasn’t the death that Sheila feared, so much as the ignominy of dying without a fight.
All her regiment had fallen into a stony silence, transfixed only by their watches’ irreversible march towards drop time, the moment that they would be free of the flying dungeon. It was one constant in the calm before the chaos, and a place where time meant only the wish to see tomorrow. Locked into their jumpseats, each soldier could feel the turboprops’ steadfast thunder, bringing them nearer and nearer to their fates in Red land.
Moving to the limits of what her harness permitted, Sheila again made her routine insurance that all odds would be evened in her favor. Strapped across her body was a loaded rifle, stout and solid in its guarantee of lethality, reined in by a long scope mounted slightly offset from the frame. At her waist were several of its straight magazines, each carrying but a few seconds’ worth of automatic fire. Her pistol’s magazines were nearby, and further along at her side was the standard-issue bayonet, not yet made complement to the FAL. But Britain’s finest weapon was but a small vial tucked inside her fleece jacket, containing the three pills of evened odds made manifest. Compound M – an amphetamine even the Nazis could only dream about, the miracle of medicine that made soldiers into supermen. The boffins could profess otherwise, but every soldier who took the stuff knew that their lives were being stolen away. Sheila could feel the pill work into her body nearly instantly after she swallowed, and made her final check for the contingencies she prepared against its effects. Her fate was fully in her hands now.
Seven minutes to drop. The trepidation was broken by a deafening bang and the screech of twisting metal. Sheila’s heart dropped, and her whole body recoiled in shock – it was unavoidable even after countless encounters with withering fire. Shouts and curses were drowned out by groans of metal as the airframe twisted and tumbled, and shuddered ominously with the screaming pitch of the engines, pushed to their limits in a desperate escape from Soviet missiles. Trapped inside a deafening cacophony, the paratroopers could only pray that the escorting fighters had fired in turn.
All were fixated solely upon their watches now, watching in horror as the seconds draw longer, each heavy with the threat of death. All had swallowed their Compound M, and could feel each racing heartbeat as if it were the fading pulse of a dying man. Sheila squeezed her rifle until the metal had remarked its pattern into her palm, and with the other hand held herself in her seat against the frantic pitches and rolls of the aircraft. Bullets of sweat appeared on her neck. She could almost feel the drug race its way across every vein, lightening each limb as though it were drawing their matter into her pounding heart, the sensation of which had consumed her neck and temples. Despite the antiemetic filling her stomach with lead shot, she wanted to vomit.
Thump, thump, tick., thump, tick, thump, thump.
A second blast roared across the cabin. The plane pitched in a violent bounce, flinging its occupants against their seats and the hard metal walls. Sirens began to blare, accompanied by the pulse of red lights. Sheila felt the transport bank left and fall into a dive, steep enough that it could have been the death roll of a transport with a wing shot off; the seconds were microcosms of eternity now, then time was restarted by the a roll in the opposite direction and a climb that sucked her into the seat. And there it was – the first crack in the prison of pulsing red alarms. All strength resumed in her body, Sheila moved her almost-trembling hands to undo her harnesses with psychoactive efficiency, and anchored only by her grip on the strap leaned into the column of rushing air. No sensation penetrated the roar of wind as the door dropped the end of its travel, and the first of the plane’s human payload began to jump out towards their objectives. One, two, three, four green-clad soldiers disappeared out the transport’s great maw before Sheila. With a breath, she took the final step past the door, and flung herself towards the world below
It was not unlike impacting a wall of air, pushing at the body’s every point in a futile attempt to resist gravity’s intractable pull. Sheila’s amazonian frame, brawny and towering inside the plane, felt nothing more than a scrap of paper twisting and tumbling in the vortex of cold night air. The dark sky imparted only flames of the jets’ exhaust, appearing not unlike the flashes of AA guns on the blacked-out ground below. She straightened her body towards the ground, and with a struggle against the air pulled her watch into view, counted down the illuminated seconds, and reached for the leather strap flaying in the wind. All her weight was effortlessly thrown back in a violent jerk, digging each segment of her harness into her body; around her legs, the loops pulled against her crotch a thin absorbent padding. It was invariable that she would feel a flash of embarrassment at the reminder that she was awkwardly straddling an undone baby’s diaper, held up only by a lady’s nylon stockings concealed underneath her fatigues. But in a moment, the pressure relented, and she could draw her concentration to her slowing descent towards the ground below, to where her comrades had already landed.
It was only on the moment of impact that Sheila realized no spring rains had yet come to soften the earth below. Her heavy frame, without proper bracing, crashed into the ground with a jolt that shook her entire body, buckling her knees with ease and sending her careening towards the ground in an undignified fall. For nearly half a second she could feel a small trickle of urine squeeze from her clenched bladder and form a wetness at her crotch, before her head struck the ground and erased the sensation completely. When she opened her eyes, she found the stream stopped.
Seamus was looking down at her. “Bloody hell, that was something”.
“Nobody’s dead yet, I s’ppose. You alright?”.
He cracked a wry smile. “Yeah. Up and at ‘em”.
Sheila removed her FAL from its holster and held it steady across her chest. In the distance, flashes of orange from the anti-aircraft barrage were illuminating the night sky, firing still at the fleeing squadron. Their forces had been temporarily diverted away from her, but with having been shot at, the minutes on her respite were surely numbered. Even so, she felt good and alert, prepared for any battle that might befall the unit. The Compound M had fully dispatched any fatigue and filled her with a warmth unbefitting of late autumn’s bitter chill. But for Sheila, the warmth had taken on a second, unwanted form in her crotch.
If Sheila could feel any distraction from the full focus vested by the drug, it was the twinge in her bladder that had come upon quickly after she had swallowed the pill. Such was the consequence of Compound M for Sheila, unavoidable even after a litany of attempted cures. With the drug’s diuretic effect, it was invariable that she would periodically emerge from the fray with wet fatigues. It was no uncommon predicament for the Paras, where hellish fighting lasted hours with no opportunity for relief—but for Sheila alone, any stains at her crotch were only what had leaked from her diaper. Without the padding, already dampened with the jump, she would have not once exfiltrated without her pants stained with piss, and on many occasions her mess as well.
“All ready, boys! Move!” A hundred parachutes, detached from their bodies, crumpled upon the ground to be whisked away by a stiff breeze. A man with a radio set barked his orders and dispersed the idle crowd, scattering pockets of men all around the forested grassland. With a body still agitating for provocation, Sheila’s methodical pacing under the pines’ shroud felt like a yoked plod, a rhythm wholly incongruous with her rapid and pounding heartbeat. Compound M thirsted for adrenaline, for the relief of combat, and in Sheila a mounting need to relieve herself. But she could find no opportunity to do so here, with her compatriots at her side, and the stone bridge coming into view across the bends in the river. How long has it been? All memory of her march here had coalesced into not more than a second in her memory, as though the drug had picked her up and whisked her to the fray. She checked her equipment methodically, finding her grip on every weapon, and ending with a second’s thought toward her diaper – slightly warm and damp, possibly after collecting yet another leak. How much longer? Her mind drifted in consideration of nipping off for a quick change, but a quick scan of the area found nowhere to do so out of sight. With reservation, she lowered her gaze, and was suddenly pricked by a crunching of leaves and a shimmer of movement.
Her eyes shot to the leafy cover at her feet. The moonlight reflected off a thousand scales, writhing along the ground in a frenzied slither. Sheila had never loved snakes, and the Compound M only sharpened the dread at finding one. Her recoil was quick and potent, sending her staggering back a pace away from the adder; she was running her bladder before her boot could crunch soundly into the leaves behind. Instinct drover her hand towards her waist, and nearly found the L9’s grip before it could reach the bayonet, pull it from the sheath, and drive it in a crouching blow towards the coiled adder. Her abdomen tensed in the maneuver, squeezing her stomach, and inadvertently forced some mess from her loosened bowels into the waiting padding. But for all the Compounds’ disservice to Sheila’s continence, it worked true in ensuring the blade struck dead center, gliding effortlessly through the adder’s soft body and into the ground below.
“What was that, Sheila? Bloody hell, you alright?”
“Yeah. Alright. Just a, just a snake”.
The snake struggled and writhed in a widening pool of its own blood, a streak of which was smeared across Sheila’s bayonet. It wouldn’t inhibit her from using it, but she nevertheless wiped it across her fatigues until the silver gleamed untarnished in the moonlight. More difficult would be cleaning up herself – although her accident had been quick and minor, the diaper felt swollen and full beneath her, not liable to hold another full accident. She would have to change at the earliest opportunity, after the slog had been completed.
How much longer?
The Compound creeped in her bloodstream, ready again to hasten the mundane reality. Another tick of her mind’s clock, and she was gazing through her binoculars at the soldiers on patrol.
Clad in green, with oversized, bowl-shaped helmets without brims, aiming their Kalashnikovs through fast, methodical sweeps. Krauts, as they said. A bright white glow emanated from behind a stout building and slowly swept across its silhouette, powerful enough to cast dim light upon the vegetation ahead of Sheila even when turned away from her. The end of a caterpillar track peeked from behind the concrete cottage. They’ve a tank. She turned towards the stout Scotsman, muttered her sighting in a gesticulated drawl, and offered up her binoculars to the prompt refusal of a man preoccupied with his radio. Clicks, beeps, and an unintelligible Scots drawl were lost to her as she clambered for a mask and replaced her binoculars with her rifle. Ready, ready, ready.
The blast of air and high whistle erupting from before her was not wholly remarkable against the Germans’ shouts, but to the Brits in the bushes it was Gabriel’s horn. Somebody – who is it? – belted “Contact, contact, contact!” from behind, but Sheila was on the move already, rushing forth from her vegetative sanctuary with a barrel pointed towards where she saw the Krauts last. A hundred masked men, reeling from their restraint of the drug, exploded out of the woodwork imbued with a drugged fighting spirit that made them deaf to the stricken tank’s explosion. In an instant, all the world was enveloped in the relentless chatter of automatic gunfire, sending hot lead across all directions and drowning the screams of those who had already fallen, some British, mostly German, as the Paras began their sprints towards their objectives. A Stahlhelm-wearing figure hundred of yards away ceased firing and turned sharply in a backpedal; through her mask’s fogged lenses Sheila saw the soldier’s rotation suddenly stop as he turned upon her. Adrenaline shoved her into a dive, and she was in the air before the German could shoulder his rifle, her body careening into the dirt just as the gunshots erupted in a deafening ring above the battlefield. All her consciousness was reduced to furor, terror, and amphetamines, severing all perception of her throat searing in a scream, and likewise her bladder relaxing with the impact and emptying its contents into the diaper. Time slowed, stopped, and the cosmos converged upon her two arms and rifle, jerked towards its target and aimed one purely instinctual convulsion, and fired a resumption of the chaotic world. Sheila was pulled towards her knees, and then her feet, in a rise that would have killed her had she not already felled the German, whose collapse had silenced and thrown asunder his rifle.
Sheila’s quick self-check revealed that his shots had all missed their mark, spilling from her body naught but her piss; she grimaced upon finding that her accident in prone had skipped the diaper’s limited padding altogether and instead wet the front of her tights. Bloody hell, the fucking drug. The undergarments were necessary for holding in place a baby’s diaper that was hopelessly too small for Sheila’s frame, but the skintight nylon also irritatingly pressed its wetness up against her skin.
A guttural explosion in the distance tore away Sheila’s attention towards her accident, and wrenched it instead towards the distant rumble of a monstrous tank cresting a hill. The silhouette was unmistakable with a front illuminated by two driving lights and a mounted machine-gun spraying fire into the night, a mile too far to have any effect on the scattered Paras. But this time, there was no florid searchlight turning night into day and marking the vehicle for destruction. No way to ascertain the cannon’s direction, either.
She crouched behind a rock. “That’s more than we bargained for! But it’s shooting blind, innit?”
The reply came from Jerry. “The hell he is! Bastard’s got night-vision!”
Cock! “Where’s the fucking artillery? Bombers?” She the answers to both and prayed her compatriots had not discarded their RPGs.
“He looking here?”
“Looking away, let’s go! Go!” The Germans had a chance to regroup, but their defenses were surely worn to the man already. A well-placed but unprotected machine gun sat unmanned under a tarpaulin. Only from behind a wall of sandbags were shots coming. With the bridge behind intact and no indication of any attempt to breach it, Sheila’s offence had ground to a temporary halt. There was naught to do now but wait for a mortar to dislodge the Krauts. Setting herself down in a thicket well beyond the range of any grenades, Sheila had for the first time a brief respite from combat.
No tired yet … but I need a drink. She pulled a green canteen from her belt and took a long swig, giving little consideration to the effect the water would have upon her bladder. No sooner had she finished her drink that a muffled explosion sounded behind her, giving way to the arcing whistle of a shell en route to its target. Perhaps the communists screamed their last upon realizing their doom, but the Paras were deaf to such things by now, and felt in their minds only a countdown to the impact that would force them from their roosts. The shell whistle subsided, flying further and nearing the ground, three, two, one…
Even hundreds of meters away from the explosion, Sheila could feel the deafening blast’s shock heave the earth and rattle her bones. Her tensed muscles’ hold over her bladder loosened for a moment, and let a gentle stream of urine fall into the still-damp padding. Sheila would fail to notice, with her senses blunted by the ring that resonated within, as she clenched her rifle and hurled herself from the leafy cover. Her heart leapt into a frenzy and coursed the drug throughout her veins, imbuing in each uncoiling muscle a superhuman vigor as she exploded into the fray. A great catharsis swept over her body, eradicating any sensation of exertion or fatigue, and unconsciously loosened another dash of urine into a diaper already dampened with the errant trickle she had lost at the explosion. But with her padding in place Sheila had noticed neither of her leaks, and remained so unaware as she charged the impacted entrenchment, baring her rifle in preparation of firing at anything that moved. Past the vacant watchtower, past the machine-gun, the subdued enemy mounted no defence. She approached the pulverized sandbags and quickly shifted her rifle to one hand, and with the other mounted the barricade, throwing her large body into the throes of her foes. A dozen soldiers lay motionless on the ground, blanketed by the earth and the darkness, concealing their blood from British eyes.
Sheila slowed her run. At the corner of her bloodshot left eye, something twitched. Without hesitation, she turned and shot a one-second burst into the still-moving soldier. His body flinched and came to rest, face-down in the dirt.
“How many died?”
“Liam’s not in good shape-”
“Damn!”
“But Perkins’ll attend to him, he should be alright.”
Speaking through the gas filters was quite hopeless, but while the rumble of battle still sounded in the distance, the Tommies knew better than to remove their masks. Their Russians laced their smoke grenades with nerve gas, or so went the story, and no doubt the faraway tank had prepared a special gift in its dispensers. The monstrous machine rumbled a pace towards the forest, and in brief flashes of automatic fire illuminated the cadre of soldiers running alongside. But their targets had long since dispersed and left for them mines to run over. Frances was already lying prone upon the rooftop with a readied rifle, prepared to further stir the chaos.
Sheila clambered up the ladder and joined her underneath the fluttering Hammer and Compass. With binoculars in hand, she knelt down besides the sniper, and peered in the direction of Frances’ target. She shifted her weight as not to squeeze her diaper, which felt almost like a saturated sponge between her legs. Any wrong move and her urine would leak out.
“Watch my flanks. I’ll bloody ‘em up”.
“Don’t miss”.
She swiveled on her heels toward where the wobbling river was swallowed by darkness, holding just a midge of disappointment at being denied the spectacle. The field battle had quieted, reduced to the echoes of faraway shots and the muffled mechanical clank of the doomed tank. How many seconds till contact? The absolute stillness through her lenses made her uneasy. It was the damned wait again, agonizing hours of hoping that the horizon would not impart a sea of tanks and jets.
It’s the drug talking. Intelligence had predicted nothing of the sort. The battle was over, and the British had won without a hitch.
Her thoughts were broken by the muffled explosion rising above the subsiding din of gunfire, and with it the very welcome commotion of shouts and screams. Sheila had almost forgotten her anticipation of the blast, and so was taken back by the numbing explosion of gunfire metres away as Frances fired her L42 on cue. A welcome shot, to be sure, but the sheer shock drove another dash of pee from Sheila’s bladder; this time, her saturated diaper’s core could not muster the speed to absorb all the leak. Sheila scowled and blushed red upon feeling a hot trickle of liquid running down the left leg of her tights.
“Contact!” What a shot.
Sheila lowered her binoculars and turned towards the tank, expecting to see a stream of RPG fire converge upon the immobilized target. But no explosions illuminated the tank’s dark silhouette, growing sharper with each turn of the dial. The hemispherical turret’s appendages were moving, the turret rotating along with Sheila’s fingers. She could see the protruding cannon shrink, then disappear altogether. And then the machine-gun’s pirouette ceased as well.
Her eyes widened and she threw down the binoculars.
“On the ground!” A blinding flash of cannon-fire beamed through the focuses lenses. Her arm was around Frances’ neck by the arrival of the cannon’s roar. Unthinking, unbridled reflex sent her tumbling over the building’s edge, Frances in tow. She was surrounded by chaos and emptiness, plunging an endless descent, a sitting duck for the impossible might of the Russian cannon.
A shell cleaving through the air encountered a plywood wall, an effortless fight that shattered the wall and a trigger on the projectile’s tip. It spewed forth a jet of molten metal, found not rolled steel but air, and milliseconds later exploded in the confines of an East German cabin. Sheila was mere metres away from the earthshaking roar, suspended in her fall as the walls burst into thousands of pieces of shrapnel, and the air turned into fire. Her scream died, caught in her throat, but her urine fared no such encumbrance in emptying from her bladder. The impact came a half-second later, her body into the dirt, her head into the helmet, her brain into her skull, and the ringing flooded her mind from every orifice. The world blackened.
“Sheila! SHEILA!” Her eyes opened – or were they open already? That was Frances’ scream, hoarse and ragged, Frances’ face, draped with blood. There was no pain, but all her body was sore and numb, as though trapped under a weight. Something was stinging her eyes – her face was damp. She wipe her eyes and left a streak of sanguine red on the back of her hand. My blood? The same sticky wetness was on her chest, and enveloped her crotch. Damn… Finding Frances’ flushed face sent a pang of embarrassment through her. How long… did she see…? Sheila couldn’t have known that even in her first few seconds of consciousness she was still wetting herself.
Her rifle was still in its place, strapped across her chest. Frances’ was gone. With hands in the dirt, she propped herself into a sitting position, and immediately found that her rear had squished into a mess. It was over her tights, her fatigues – the padding had failed entirely to contain it. But she could smell nothing over the odor of fire and death. The sources of both were close by.
“They…. they’ve gone and got… got my….” The scream was tearing up his throat, and the burning gasps of a dying man. All his effort could not muster a voice louder than a whisper. Sheila crawled to his side and saw instantly the gaping hole through his waist, and the blood pouring into the olive uniform from the irreparable gash. “It’s… it’s… please…”
“Perkins! Perkins!” She tore here eyes away and prayed the medic was still alive.
“Present!” Her heart leapt. “What do we have-”.
“Morphine. He’s nothing left.”
She turned away stiffly. Who was he? Anger and raw hatred welled inside and roused her from the impact’s slumber. The Kraut… I was watching him from… The billow of fire and black smoke ended her search. She’d missed the tank’s demise. All was quiet.
“Got them all?” Frances leaned over her.
“I ‘spose. Good work, lass”
“See Perkins. You’re roughed up.”
“Nothin’ a fag can’t fix. Buzz off and shoot any Kraut we skipped”.
Frances turned, expressionless, and scampered away into the milling soldiers left standing guard. Sheila propped herself to her feet and strolled a leisurely pace into the woods behind, ignoring with each step the mess squishing between her legs. Once the Paras had disappeared behind the woodwork, she reached for her pocket holding the tin of Virginias, but produced instead a crumpled ball of padding, its surface slightly muddied with dirt. She flicked open her belt and dropped her fatigues, leaving only a set of black silk tights revealing the mass of a wet diaper and a mess. With a gentle pull, she peeled off her undergarment, scowling and blushing at the coat of mess smeared on their insides. With a hand cupped around her used diaper’s backside, Sheila used the sodden garment to clean off as much as possible, before tossing the padding into the woods and dropping the new, unfolded diaper into her gusset. She pulled her undergarments back up to her crotch, pressing the padding as close to her as possible, in hopes of making it last until the Grenadiers could arrive.
Edited August 17, 2020 by Present
(see edit history) |
(I take no credit for the image. Artist: unknown.)
"...run...."
"....run!"
"RUN!!"
Ilia's eyes shot open, only to be greeted with more darkness. Had she been asleep? Why did she have a horrible pain at the back of her neck? Where was she....who was she? Ilia couldn't seem to remember any of these things, all she could remember was that voice she was dreaming of, "Run....RUN!" That was the only memory she really seemed to posses at the moment. Ignoring her apparent lack of memories, Ilia's mind shifted towards survival, she needed to figure out what was going on. She tried to move, but realized she could not stand, or even move her arms. A rough cut of rope held her tightly to a support beam inside of whatever building was serving as her prison. Ilia felt a sudden wave of fear sweep over her, fear of the unknown, she knew nothing and could see nothing in the dark building, all she knew was that she was a captive, and that was a scary thought.
"H-hello?" Ilia managed to stammer, her voice small, "Is anybody there?" Her question was answered by the hideous sound of strange creatures whooping and howling, speaking a primitive language of various grunts and gurgles. One of the creatures loudly beat upon the door of Ilia's cell, indicating that she was to remain quiet. Ilia's heart jumped at the sounds, as her words choked in her throat.
After a few minutes, the initial paralyzing fear of the monsters gave way to a less crippling fear, a looming sense of dread. She knew that she had to somehow find a way out of here. Her eyes had now finally adjusted to the light; Ilia could faintly make out her surroundings, a derelict house with shattered windows. The broken windows were allowing trace amounts of moonlight to work their way into the room. Ilia could see that the room was completely bare, say for herself, and the support beam she was tied to.
For several minutes, Ilia struggled with her bindings, attempting to break free, but to no avail. Her arms were pulled behind her and wrapped around the pole, fastly secured to the base of the pole with some rope. The rope was tied off so low that she was being forced to sit on her knees, rather than stand. Every time she would tire herself out, she would remember the looming, unknown horror right outside her prison, and then continue trying to free herself of her bonds.
After what felt like an eternity, dawn finally came. The first golden rays of sunlight crept through the shattered window, and fell upon an exhausted young girl. Ilia had been struggling all night, and no longer had the energy to hold herself up, she was leaning forward on her knees, with her bound wrists holding her weight from completely falling to the floor. She was so tired, but Ilia was now intrigued at the prospect of being able to see clearly. After surveying her room again, she once more determined that the room was empty. Now Ilia turned her eyes down towards herself, as she couldn't seem to even picture what she looked like. Looking down, Ilia saw she was wearing a white, sleeveless chemise, and light brown capri pants, with bare feet. Though she previously couldn't recollect what she was wearing, this did not feel surprising, seeing her body just naturally felt familiar.
Ilia's train of thought was broken when one of the beasts from outside suddenly burst through the door, and into her holding chamber. Ilia was instantly afraid if the hideous little beast, it had a hunched back, horns, green skin, and beady little red eyes. The eyes stared at her thirstily.
Ilia's body tensed up as the creature approached her, her mind was now racing, wondering why she had been captured, and what the creature's plans were for her. It waddled right up to her, looking down, it put it's face a mere few inches from Ilia's. Her stomach churned as it looked at her, not just because of the horrid smell, but also because of the way it was looking at her. Despite her best efforts, Ilia started to whimper slightly. She jumped when she suddenly heard a loud clank on the floor, and the sloshing of water. Looking down, Ilia saw that the creature had brought a pail of water with a ladle. Surprisingly, the water looked clean. The creature grabbed Ilia's lower jaw and squeezed her cheeks, forcing her mouth open, in the other hand, it took the ladle and poured water into her mouth. She hadn't realized just how thirsty she was, so Ilia greedily slurped at the water. For some reason, this seemed to amuse the green beast, so it refilled the ladle, pulled Ilia's head back, and tried to dump the whole ladle full down her throat. This caused Ilia to choke on the water, and spray it out of her mouth, coughing violently. The little green wretch began making a horrible gurgling sound, which Ilia could only surmise, must have been laughing. The rest of the day Ilia sat in the room alone, until the creature returned with more water at dusk. The process was repeated again the next morning.
At first, Ilia had been desperately thirsty, her body utilized all of the water. But now it had been at least a full day and a half since she had probably last used the toilet, she honestly couldn't remember anything prior to her waking up in this room. But now she was getting desperate, she really needed to pee. The creepy green creatures holding her captive had not harmed her yet, so Ilia thought perhaps she could try communicating with them again, even though she reviled even being in their presence.
"Hey!" Ilia called "Anybody out there?!" Her call was met with silence. "Please! I-I really need th-the toilet!" She cried out, as her voice began to crack. At this comment, her captors only responded with the same hideous gurgling laugh as before, but otherwise, did nothing.
Another hour passed by, Ilia tried to keep her legs crushed together as hard as she could, though it was difficult due to the way she was being forced on her knees. She couldn't quit get her thighs to touch. She was using every ounce of her will power to not wet herself. Ilia wanted to grasp her girlhood with her hands, to relieve the pressure, but her hands were still tightly bound. The pressure was becoming too much to handle, Ilia suddenly lost control for a second, as a spurt of urine squirted into her panties. Quickly she forced herself to get a grip, as the embarrassment began to set in, she realized that an accident was inevitable. Tears were now running down her face, even though Ilia knew there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable accident, she still blindly held on to hope that her captors would have mercy or something, anything! She was in so much pain now!
"N-no!" Ilia cried out, as she felt a warmth spread through her panties. She couldn't hold it back anymore, the warm wetness spread more and more as she began to completely lose control of her bladder, and fully wet herself. Her pee soaked through her panties and into her pants. Ilia felt the hot piss running down her thighs and pooling on the floor around her knees. Her urine made a loud hissing noise as in gushed out of her vagina in through her panties, it went on for over a full minute. Completely defeated, Ilia began to sob, as her body slumped forward again, her weight resting on her wrist bindings, a very large puddle of pee surrounding her, leaking through the floorboards.
Ilia's sobbing was interrupted by that horrible gurgling laugh, she looked up and felt the hot burn of shame spread across her face as she saw several of those little green devils peering in at her. They were laughing, their red eyes burning holes into Ilia. She shuddered at the pleasure they were getting from her misery and humiliation.
Written by:
High Meme-Overlord
Edited August 17, 2020 by MemeOverlord
Forgot part of the title.
(see edit history) |
The Legend of Zelda TP:
Ilia's Incontinence Pt. 2
Ilia felt as if she had been walking forever now. Her feet were sore, and this narrow path just went on and on. She looked up above her and could see that the sun was directly over head, thus causing the rocky embankments to either side of her to cast no shadows. The red rock stretched upward like walls, and made her feel uncomfortable, she could easily be cornered here. She couldn't quite remember why she was so on edge, but Ilia felt the recollection pressing at the back of her mind stating that she was fleeing from somewhere, or something.
Unbeknownst to her, Ilia had recently been attacked and captured by Bulblins, and held by them in the secret village. Her injures, and initial trauma had caused her to suffer retrograde memory loss. The psychological terror and trauma that she faced at the hands of her captors had now forced her brain into a sort of post traumatic amnesia, which blocked out her recent memories of being held in the village, and how she escaped.
It was now reaching the heat of the day. Ilia couldn't remember what happened, but the heat stimulated Ilia's clothes, causing the aroma of old urine to drift upward from her pants. "Pew, why do I smell pee?" She said aloud. She sniffed, "Uugh, is that coming from my pants?" *sniff* "yep, it is. What's going on, did I really wet my pants recently?! I can't remember...My pants are dry now though."
Ilia did her best to ignore the smell of what was apparently several day's worth of wetting her pants, but her face would turn beet red with embarrassment every time she caught another wiff of herself. Finally though, it looked as if her embarrassment could come to an end! As the red rock embankments sloped downward, they gave way to a grassy open field with a crystal blue river running through it. Ilia was overjoyed at the thought of cleaning herself and drinking fresh water.
Excitedly, Ilia made her way over to the river, got down on her knees, cupped her hands and began to scoop water up to her lips. The cool water felt good against Ilia's dry throat, the march here had been long, hot and dusty. After drinking the clean water for several minutes, she felt refreshed, and turned her attention from her quenched thirst, to her outer body. Ilia observed her surroundings, the road was deserted, with no travelers visible from either direction, much farther ahead, she could make out the shape of a mighty castle, surrounded by a small city. Deciding that she was alone, she stripped her clothes, so that she could go for a dip in the water. once her brown capri pants were off, she looked down at her panties, there was no mistaking it, the urine she had smelled on her pants had definitely come from her own accident. Her white panties were adorned with a large yellow stain in the crotch. She bathed herself for awhile, enjoying the cool water. Once she was finished bathing, Ilia grabbed her pee stained pantsand and underwear, scrubbed them in the river, wrung them out, and set them in the sun to dry. Ilia replaced her breast wrap and chemise and sat down to rest in the grass while her no longer soiled clothing dried. (Artist: unknown.)
Once her clothing was dry enough, Ilia continued her journey, she didn't know where else to go, so she headed towards the distant castle. A couple hours later, and she was nearing her destination. Seeing a fork in the road, she peered ahead to ensure she chose the path that lead to the castle, and that's when she saw it, the form of a body, collapsed on the road. Ilia quickly ran over to investigate, and saw that it was a young Zora boy, he was unconscious.
"Hello? Is anybody there?! We need some help here!" Ilia called out, as she attempted to lift the boy. Her calls were met with silence upon the empty road. With no help nearby, she had no choice but to move the boy herself. She was a young girl of only sixteen, but she had a fierce mother's spirit in her, and simply could not leave the poor child behind to succumb to his injuries.
Though she had grown up in a ranching and farming village, Ilia's father had always been protective of his little girl, and never really subjected her to much if the manual labor. As such, she did not have the brawn needed to lift the boy in her arms, so she pulled his arms over her back, and held on to them as if she were giving him a piggy back ride. Even with the boy's feet dragging in the dirt, Ilia was still struggling to keep him up on her back as she trudged along. With each heavy step she took, she noticed a slight pressure building up in her lower abdomen.
Back at the river, Ilia had drank a copious amount of water, and it was quickly catching up to her. Despite the growing pain in her bladder, she ignored it and pushed on, knowing that she could still easily wait awhile before relieving herself, she did not want to stop and then have to pick up the boys again. However, it wasn't long until the weight of the Zora child also caught up to her, and she finally had to stop for a rest.
"Hmm, maybe I should go ahead and pee while I am taking a break, so that I don't have to take a break again later." Ilia thought to herself. "Hmm, but there is nowhere to hide, no trees or bushes...it seems weird to do it in front of the boy. What if he wakes up?! That would be awfully embarrassing! Nah, if he was going to wake up, he probably would have already. But what about other travelers, I'm so close to the city now, there are bound to be other people now..."
As if on que, Ilia's thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a horse and carriage rolling along the path. The sound was coming from the direction which she had come. Ilia looked behind her and saw the wagon approach from over a small hilltop. "I guess I will have to wait after all. It's really not that bad anyway." She thought.
Driving the cart was a brawny woman who's prominent features were a pair of enormous, partially exposed breasts. The woman waved at Ilia as she was approaching.
"Hello there!" The woman called out as she brought the cart to a halt next to Ilia and the boy. "Are you alright there, Sweetheart?"
"I'm alright, but I don't think he is." Ilia replied.
"That poor child looks green around the gills, what happened to him?"
"I don't really know. I was just traveling along the road, and found him collapsed here. I think maybe he was attacked by monsters."
"Hmmm, sounds 'bout right. There's been lots of monsters and other such vile things wandering about lately. You two shouldn't be wandering around by yourselves, let me give you a ride to castle town, we can call for the local physician there."
Ilia was feeling wary, as this woman was a stranger, but then she realized that she had no memories, everyone was going to be a stranger. The woman sounded genuine in her desire to help anyway. Plus, Ilia wasn't interested in dragging the child any further.
"Okay, that's very nice of you. Can you help me get him into the back of your wagon?"
"Sure thing, Sweetiepie!" The lady responded with blunt enthusiasm.
Once they were loaded into the cart, and were traveling again, the woman struck up a conversation by introducing herself as Telma. "And what about you, Darling? What's your name?"
"My name's... uh" Ilia stumbled with her words. "Uh, well...I don't actually know..."
"Don't know your own name?! Didn't your momma ever give you one?" Telma asked.
"Well, I'm sure she did, I'm sure that I have a name. I just... don't remember. I can't seem to remember anything right now. I recall traveling here from some dusty area with red rocks everywhere...and then I found this boy..." Ilia blushed as she said this, she didn't know why, but it felt embarrassing to admit that she was so clueless, even though it clearly wasn't her fault.
"That's awful, I'm sorry to hear that, Hun. So, red rocks you say? Sounds like you might have been traveling from the Eldin region, you think?"
"I guess.." Ilia replied sheepishly, really having no idea. Just then the wagon went over a bump in the road, causing her body to jolt, and her need to pee to intensify. She let out a small squeal and put her hands between her legs. She hadn't expected it, but the jolt forced a tiny dribble of urine into her panties. This surprised her, because she didn't feel desperate enough to be on the brink of an accident or anything.
"You alright back there, Sweetie? Didn't mean to give you a fright!" Telma called back over her shoulder.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine!" She responded. "Just..... well, will we be able to find a toilet soon?" Ilia blushed as she said this.
"Don't worry one bit! We're only about five minutes ride from the town gates, and it won't be far from there to my place."
Comforted by this, Ilia put on a brave face and waited. She could do this, it wasn't that far, and the pressure wasn't all that bad. A few minutes later, they reached the gates of Castle Town. She was relieved, knowing that the boy would soon be cared for, and that she would soon be able to take care of her business. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her bladder, and the sensation of the pressure dramatically increasing. She yelped again, and then realized that the pressure was abating very quickly. That's when she felt the warmth spread through her panties. Looking down, Ilia could see that she was wetting herself, it had started so abruptly that she had hardly even realized it was happening. She cried out more loudly than she meant to, and quickly put her hands between her legs again, cupping them over her crotch. It was no use though, her muscles felt weak down there, she couldn't stop the flow. Hot pee was now streaming straight through her panties, through her pants and onto the floor boards of the wagon.
"You sure you're alright back there, Honey? I ca-" Telma didn't finish her sentence as she turned back to look at Ilia. The poor girl was a sight, her face was flushed, her eyes were clamped shut, with tears running down her cheeks, and a large pool of urine forming on the floor where she was sitting. After a painfully long moment of silence, Ilia opened her eyes and looked down. Her face instantly turned even redder, and she put her hands to her mouth to muffle the sob that was building in her throat as she saw the puddle she had made. (Artist: unknown.)
"Oh-oh no, Telma, I-I'm so sorry, I..." Ilia stammered as she choked back on her words and began to tear up again.
"Oh no, no, don't worry about that, Honey, it was just an accident! No need to fuss. I won't tell anyone what happened. Just sit tight, we're almost there, and then I will help you get cleaned up, alright?"
Ilia just sat there quietly and nodded her head. Once the covered wagon finally arrived at Telma's bar, she climbed into the back to assist Ilia. Telma found a spare horse blanket among the wagon supplies, and wrapped it around the poor girl's waist to cover up her accident. Some of Telma's patrons came and helped carry the Zora boy inside, while Telma hurried Ilia past the other guests in an attempt to not be noticed. With her face burning red, Ilia just kept her eyes on the floor as they did so, until she was safely in the back room. All the while, she was thinking to herself, "I can't believe I did that. I had an accident right in front of Telma, and in her wagon too! How could this have happened?! I wasn't that desperate yet. It just....happened...
Ilia was still unable to remember her time in captivity with the Bulblins at the hidden village. But if she could recall, she would have remembered being tied to a pole with no bathroom breaks. She would remember desperately trying to hold her bladder, sometimes for 1-2 days straight. Holding it till she felt excruciating pain in her lower abdomen before wetting all over herself. She had no memory of it, but our poor damsel had caused slight damage to her bladder while she was a prisoner. As she will soon come to realize, her bladder control has been significantly weakened....
Written by:
High Meme-Overlord |
There a a thread here, somewhere, where women have admitted that they sometimes play a game of letting little spurts go, in secret but in plain view, for pleasure and for the risk.
I had to go and lie down after reading some of those replies...
But, years ago, I wrote a long and rambling stream-of-consciousness vignette about going home from a concert, somewhat dazed, and being so taken by the look of a particularly attractive woman that I bought a writing pad and scribbled down a long, long leer at her leggings...
...And fantasised that she would pee in them, ever such a little spurt. And then another, and another.
It's one of the very first erotic pieces that I wrote, and it shows: be warned, it takes a while to get interesting.
A scribble on the train, in which the reader learns exactly what it’s like to be a writer…
So. King’s Cross Station, brightly-lit and echoing, marble floors and shuttered shops and crowds in little clusters, looking at departure times upon the ‘drive-in cinema’ display.
My head is singing from the concert I have just come out of; I could tell you who it was but I don’t think that you’d believe me. I could tell you how it was, but only if your mind can write searing white letters of fire across the sky and underline them with the sound of thunder.
I can feel it, now, the bow upon the string, a note beneath the hearing and above imagination, fluttering like shadows formed into the feathers on the wings of Odin’s Ravens, shimmering a little way beyond the edge of your perception and a little further into things we call the half-world...
... and are mostly too sensible to mention.
I’ve just gone into that string-of-consciousness thing again: a curse or blessing for a writer. So: rush into a shop, and then the one next door, and then another: find someone, anyone, who sells a spiral notepad and a biro at a quarter past eleven in the evening.
Thank God I live in London: someone did.
What have I seen, what muse is in me, ringing out the music? Not the sweet and innocently-cynical young girls, barely in their teens and barely moved by music – half of them brought into the concert by their parents, respectable suburbia concealing lifelong love for music that the neighbours ought to disapprove of - if they hadn’t brought themselves and their own daughter too; and there is nothing there for me.
Nor, either, in twenty-something students, scruffy and relaxed – nor the graduates, letting down their hair tonight but somehow always buttoned-down for work in the professions and the media. As ever, it is as if I am invisible to them: not ugly, not creepy, not even rejected in deliberate behaviours to emphasise exclusion. I am simply not there at all, it seems, or at least I do not seem to register upon whatever radar says ‘person, here’.
Someday I will tell you how it is that I became like that: it is an ugly story, but fortunately one that I have overcome. Mostly I can fade away by consciously relaxing and withdrawing the external projection of the mind and personality, or not as I may choose; but sometimes it’s a curse that seeps out over me like a magician’s smoke.
I look within, into the internal world…
And out again, blessed or cursed with photographic memory, snapshot after snapshot. Flash – electric light and floor tiles, King’s Cross Station concourse: a woman in her thirties, somehow younger from a lifetime training. Dancing, I think, but maybe something more exotic. Slim, poised, forward on her feet, a bob of cut blonde hair tossing as she chatters to her phone.
I watch, I am the watcher, fading into background and invisibility; I let the foreground flicker through me like the images in lenses, cameras, closed-circuit television systems watching in the night.
Blessed and cursed indeed, I read the body language – cursed to know it, read the mind revealed in it, never know the person any closer than the hidden operators of the all-too-pervasive video security.
So let me tell you what I see: she is pretty but not beautiful, slim but not for many years longer, held to shape by the muscle tone of all that training - a lifetime’s practice that I think she’s now neglecting. A bouncy personality, up on tiptoes, nodding in her conversation, animated in expression and the flashes of intelligence that flicker off of her.
What is she wearing? The top is cashmere: smart, black and instantly forgettable. Heavy black shoes with clumping heels and straps, shiny with a hint of cutaways.
Her stockings are like leggings, heavy and opaque, clinging firmly to her as they vanish up a miniskirt that barely reaches to her bottom, wispy and translucent; no woman wears a thing like that in lightweight tights or goes bare-legged!
It is as if the reassuring grip of fabric hides her legs from a perception that they are in view: but every inch of them is visible, for the fabric shapes and silhouettes them from her ankles to her labia – plainly visible as a camel toe in a breathing, moving outline that leaves very little to imagine.
We can tell what she's thinking, if ever she's thinking *that*.
She’s wearing knickers underneath them, a thin and silky garment: unseen, but it reveals itself in the way the fabric of the leggings slides and doesn’t stretch, and sometimes halts a little to outline the elastic at the legs, high-cut like bikini bottoms.
Whatever's visible, she doesn’t seem embarrassed or uneasy – quite the contrary – but neither is there any sense of exhibition, showing off and taunting men (and women!) in her field of view. No, she’s shielded from the stares and glares and leers that would accompany such nakedness by a belief that she’s not naked.
And somehow, everyone around her has picked up on it and they unconsciously agree with her.
What must that feel like? I read her movements: body-conscious but not consciously ‘displaying’, the feeling from the fabric not entirely fading out, not entirely edited from her awareness by whatever system of the mind keeps down the constant chatter of our clothes upon our skin.
‘Not entirely’, did I say? Not quite so, because there is a firmness in the leggings, not quite so much as girl-shaped figure-hugging Levis, that makes a woman held, pressed and squeezed a little bit, shaped and sculpted by her clothing. They’re always just a little bit aware of it, and always seem to like it – the ones with the figure for it – a constant trickle charge into the spiritual batteries of sensuality.
Occasionally the feeling is the foreground, and women in such clothing strike a pose of rutting sexuality, aware and unaware that they are feeling such a thing and sending such a signal to the men around them.
And, indeed, to other women, who pull their men a little closer, re-establishing the contact that tells the world “He’s Mine!”
How strange it is, how few of the women wearing this fashion are consciously aware of any of it, the constant body-language conversation: to read it is to know that almost all the human mind is hidden from its owner...
I watch the woman, looking closely at her legs and leggings, neutral in my body language so that she is unaware of me, and does not show the tension of a woman who perceives the ‘eye tracks’ of a man nearby.
Her legs and leggings…
The 'rise' from those high heels is lifting up her body and her pelvis, forward slightly, but she is comfortable with it. Her feet are placed a little bit apart, and then together; bending just a little bit, her knees becoming lighter as the fabric stretches; she rubs her legs together then steps forward, half a step, rocking back on one heel then the other, tension clearly visible in the muscles of her buttocks, outlined by the fabric.
The conversation continues, all of her is bouncing, nodding, gesturing...
But me, I’m watching her legs.
Feet together, knees together, thighs together, squeezing: then up a bit, relaxing. Down again, almost crouching in a conspiratorial huddle around her telephone; then up, straight up, knees rubbing again in a left-and-right half-turning gesture, repeatedly, a signal of uncertainty or indecision.
She presses her thighs together yet again, tightly, and I read it as consideration and rejection of an opportunity for penetrative sex – probably unspoken, it’s more likely that she’s talking to a ‘best friend’ than a boyfriend – but she definitely thought of having it, I saw her pelvis tilt forward, her pelvic muscles tighten and relax, and tighten up again, nothing hidden by the skirt at all, unconsciously miming the motions in detail - albeit more subtly than doing the real thing in bed - and then shutting herself down.
The conversation lightens up, and she lowers herself slightly, her pelvis and her knees coming forward, legs together; something that she’s saying means she hasn’t yet ruled out the offer and will one day take him up on it. A thought that's pleasurable in anticipation, judging by the way I see her thigh muscles relaxing and her labia fill out.
Her legs are now apart, boldly A-shaped in a clear and blatant challenge to whatever man is in the conversation, or maybe on the other end of it; the challenge being ‘prove yourself a worthy mate’. And she relaxes again, and gradually winds down the call, and walks to platform three to take her train.
I watch her hips and her backside, swaying just a little: not loose but held taut by muscle tone - I see the firmness of the dancer and the lifelong athlete, muscles moving under fabric with a touch of softening, a rounded femininity that adds an extra grace and sensuality to her.
You know, I think the leggings made her sexier than walking to the train completely naked ever could have been.
Photo-memory recorded, and scribbled down in biro in the twenty minutes that it takes a train to reach the outer suburbs. And now I am at home, running it again in the camera of my imagination. You know me – omorashi fetishist – and my enthusiasms...
What would it be like – imagine! – to let a little spurt into those leggings?
There was no hint, none whatsoever, in her body language saying that she was aware of her bladder at all; far less that she might be desperate to go, and it doesn’t suit my fancy to imagine that she was. I prefer to think of a deliberate decision to let go a little bit, imagining a trickle and discovering a sudden spurt that needs to be firmly pulled back and cut off before it runs away to visible knicker-wetting loss and an embarrassing puddle.
A spurt, a hot sensation: a sudden wetness, looseness in her labia and the tickle of displacing air…
And almost painfully, like discovering the volume’s turned to max inside her headphones, coarse wet fabric rubs across her urethral opening, slowly being pushed aside and downwards as her clitoris emerges. Smooth and silky cotton-lycra knickers now feel harsh and scratchy – wince! – and she is super-sensitive and irritable.
Twitch, and try to draw in, but she can’t and maybe there’s a risk that she’ll let go completely if she cannot ‘tighten up’. The wetness spreads out, passing through panties and into leggings, becoming a shining spot an inch across and fading to a damp uncomfortable humidity. Press her legs together, then apart, feeling it dry out a little faster. Walk – but carefully! – until she feel the slippery intrusion of her clitoris retreating into hiding.
Does it stop there, or does she dare repeat it a moment later? Is she frightened that she’ll lose the lot? Yes, but the thrill of the risk that she will, iss all apart of the sin and the mischief of it.
...And all of it forgotten as she slips through the train, finally finding a seat: realising she had completely dropped the ball and shocked, for a moment, by the disturbing idea that she might have been weeing and entirely unaware of it, all that time that she was weaving her way along through carriage after carriage, through the standing passengers, until she found herself as seat.
Of course she wouldn't have.
She takes a window seat, beside some unremarkable receptionist in a bank's staff uniform, opposite some dull accountant, and gazes into space...
And yes, she does.
Does it feel different to let it go, release another little spurt, when she is sitting down aboard the train?
She knows, in her mind, that there’s nothing to see – nothing at all, the glisten fades in seconds and there’s not a hint of wet, no shadow on the matt black fabric and whoever saw it would’ve had to look straight up her skirt to see it, a patch at most two inches across, well-hidden in the shadow of her legs and underneath her skirt.
Her fellow-passengers are the very paragon of polite disinterest.
She could do the lot, empty out and moments later there’d be nothing to see if she could be sure that the puddle would drain away behind her; and if it didn't, would they all just sit politely, pretending not to notice?
What a thing to imagine, as she takes the risk of letting out a careful little dribble, not a hint of in her breathing, her expression or her movement: she won't do it all, but she will take the delicious risk that she will find it impossible to stop, a literal flood of embarrassment, ending a walk of shame into another carriage while they look at one another and say nothing.
A spurt, and a guilty little warmth, secret, sinful, and she shouldn't.
Three or four or six more later, she's not just damp, she's wet. The patch is tiny but it’s always there, wet enough to make the cloth glide over her urethra and now – continually – her clitoris. It’s out, and when she does it sitting down, some of the squirt and the first rush of heat in the fabric reaches out and touches her.
And it’s not as if her labia do nothing: the little dribble that runs down and into them, the tickling droplet and the wetness, it’s a continuing challenge to her composure.
She wants to touch herself under the skirt, just to know how bad the damage is – or so she tells herself – but she don’t want to draw attention.
Time passes, one suburban station after another, long waits for the train while the signals are red: and spurt, after spurt, after spurt.
The temptation, every time, to let the whole lot go, gets stronger. The seats on either side of her, and opposite, are empty now: who's to know?
She realises that her backside is warm, and wet; and actually, she likes it. Another spurt, another hot little sin, and how bad would it be to just, just, let it go and just keep pissing?
Her station.
She gets off the train – carefully, so as to be last, to nobody's behind her looking at her backside - mortified to realise that the fabric of the seat is visibly wet, a coin-sized glistening spot in a palm-sized damp patch, on a seat where someone has, quite clearly, had 'an accident'.
Except that she did every drop of it deliberately; and she got away with it, walking with her backside wet but probably not showing anything; and, increasingly, becoming rather pleased at what she's done, for all that it's a guilty pleasure that she really shouldn't do.
Step away from the train, squirt another tiny spurt, caring rather less about the risk: she plays a 'head game' with the guilt and how she ought to be ashamed, as she walks along the platform; sometimes pretending to hate the sensation of having wet herself, and sometimes pretending to love it, as wet fabric slicks against her, drying down to damp, and warm, and guilty-but-not-sorry that she's done it.
What is 'real' and what's 'pretend'? Both these inner worlds have a 'draw' to them, something deeply compelling and slick and wet.
Each swing of the fantasy is greeted by another little leak, whether imagining shame and humiliation, or wicked joy and devilment in a forbidden act; and as she walks she is becoming wetter, and wetter, and wetter.
Almost, almost, visibly so.
Another spurt, at the ticket barrier, now she's in plain view?
Hot, and she feels it hiss in the fabric, slipping a finger of "Wet!" between her skin and lycra, drawing a glistening black line down her thigh. That was rather more than she intended!
She pulls-up, tightening, hearing the tapping of a rush of droplets landing on the tiling, as the ticket barrier beeps and swings open.
Another spurt, as she walks out - can she really do this as she walks? - she did, along the platform, but now it turns out that it's awfully difficult to stop, and she crosses the taxi rank with the familiar finger of piss on her skin, longer, more insistent, tickling at the back of her knee before she is able to stop.
And oh God, it shouldn't feel so nice, and she really, really shouldn't be doing this.
Next?
A walk across the station plaza, across the square towards her apartment block.
The sky has cleared but the pavement is slick with rain, and it occurs to her that there’s no such thing as a noticeable puddle tonight.
Another spurt: this time, unashamed and unhesitating, relishing the heat and wickedness: and then, walking, feeling it cool down, feeling her clitoris retreat and hide again: and she comes to a decision: "I don’t want it to" .
Well. Stand up, turn around and take out her phone as if picking up a text, see that the coast is clear…
And just relax, relax, relax.
Nothing’s happening yet, and nothing needs to: there’s no hurry.
And, before she's even aware that she's pissing, there is an intense heat in her crotch, almost scalding, and she becomes "I've Wet Myself", the woman pissing in her knickers.
Now she feels the aching sense of her bladder, now she feels the sting and rush of running urine, now she recognises the hiss and froth of it, the sense of swirling, back against her pee-hole and up around her clitoris, rinsing it with a sharp sensation of hot water cutting through the slippery film of a secret pleasure.
The swirl combs through her labia, stripping them of lubrication and leaving them, like her clitoris, painfully naked and sensitive. Her folds begin to sting and now the hotness is painful.
But she would die to feel pain like this all day.
Onwards it rushes – she knows the wet spot in her pants is visibly blossoming out, and now she feels the surge in the fabric inside her thighs, real streams, hot flows forcing their way down and stinging her skin.
The wetness expands backwards and around her: a warm, spreading feeling that reaches around her bottom and sends feelers down the back of her legs.
Suddenly the heat becomes a heavy weight and she feels her knickers peeling away from her groin, the leggings dropping away from the creases of her buttocks: a hot pool has forced its way in, and the sensation of being soaked rushes down her legs, all the way around down her thighs to her knees, where trickles split and chase their way down her calves.
She is pissing a strong and steady stream, and she can feel her bladder at work, contracting, forcing it, immersing her in the trembling rush of pissing.
Everywhere below her is hot, and wet, and surges of it have come upwards, soaking her pubic hair right up to the waistband of her knickers.
Insidious little streams have worked their way up the elastics, emerging as two oval spots under the peaks of her hips, visible at the waistband of the skirt, then as little streams upon the front of her leggings.
Mostly there is very little to see – everywhere, the fabric glistens, but nowhere does the wetting reveal itself in the cascades and flying trickles that betray a woman pissing in her knickers onto her bare legs…
But she knows, very well, that she is wetting herself!
Soaked, saturated, hot – no longer stinging, rinsed clean – and wet, wet, wet. She straightens up and make an effort not to stand in that telltale “I’ve wet myself!" half-crouch, and finds that it is, for a moment, unbearable as saturated cloth squeezes out new trickles, and the pool of pee in her groin and around her bottom shifts and surges, and drains down in a lukewarm renewal of the soaking on her thighs.
Breathe out.
She takes a step, and then another, constantly tantalised by wet cloth… And realises that she's still peeing, less than she was, but still a trickle that would be a massively embarrassing and visible wetting if she was wearing anything other than these lycra leggings.
Wee is running over her shoes, clearly visible if you look, but disappearing into the wet grass in darkness.
What next?
Spurt, draw up. Spurt, draw in. Squeeze, let go: pull, pull, pull. A final relaxation with a little spurt; draw up and then it’s over.
She presses her legs together a couple of times, to displace the puddles in the cloth. Takes a deep breath and walks, accepting that her lips and her clit are blaring alike a dimestore transistor radio at full volume.
The wetness on her legs has already faded to dampness; and, although her bottom and her crotch feel very, very wet, she knows that dampness doesn’t show on matt black leggings after dark.
And that feels good.
And she got away with it.
She could do this every damned day, and she wonders, idly, whether there was ever any reason not to.
Right now, it’s so tempting, the thought of walking round the block until the urge to wet herself returns. But the tingling in her groin has a warning edge, that it’s going to sting and this could be a nasty redness if she don’t go home and shower thoroughly, right now.
So next time, drink less coffee and a lot more water. And maybe, from the way her feet are squitching as she walks, invest in open-toed sandals.
As she steps onto the doormats at the foyer of her block, and waits a moment for her key to scan, she realises that there is a little bit of wee, still left in her, a little dribble that she really, really shouldn't...
Tempting, tempting, and why not?
...
...
...
…and next time, you’ll know I mean it when I say it’s rather long. The writing, I mean. |
Hello, this is my first wetting story. I attached a picture that fits to the story to make it more immersive. Also, English is not my native language, so there might be some mistakes.
Lily and Emily were looking forward to spend another great day on the ski slope. The two of them are on a 7 day vacation in the mountains, not far away from where Emily grew up. Both loved skiing and wanted to make the most of the few days they had. They intended to wake up early, so they could be the first at the main ski gondola which is usually extremely packed anytime after 10 am. But they overslept, mainly because Emily didn't want to wake up so early again and turned their alarm clock off. While Emily, after she woke up, just used the bathroom as always, Lily, who was furious about oversleeping, jumped in her skiing clothes right after getting out of the bed and had breakfast like she just came back from the ski slope. They both drank two big cups of coffee. After breakfast, Emily was getting ready and Lily realized she forgot to pee and weighed out the options: either going to the bathroom now and laboriously get out of her clothes and back in, or hold it till they are at the foot of the mountain where there are countless restaurants. She was interrupted by Emily who said she was ready to go and without wasting anymore time, they were driving their car to the parking lot outside of the gondola. They got into their skiing boots, took their ski out of the car and walked to the main gondola, only to realize, that their struggle in the morning had made them turn up too late. The station was packed and getting into the gondola would take atleast 15 minutes. A long time if you have to hold your ski and you are sweating because the temperature in the station was not what your outfit was designed for. "I told you so" said Lily, but Emily just rolled her eyes. The line took forever to get shorter and Lily now realized her need to pee was strong... stronger than she expected it to be. She thought about using the bathroom here at the station, but they already advanced too much in the line and she didn't want to anger Emily by having to wait the 15 minutes again. Finally, they got into the gondola and after another 10 minutes, which felt like forever for Lily, they reached the station on the mountain. Lily wanted to use a bathroom now, but Emily had different plans. "We just got up here and it's already 12 pm, we can't waste anymore of our time. Who knows when we can have a vacation like this again?" Lily accepted that. Emily is her best friend and Lily didn't want to argue with her again. They took one of the smaller, open ski lifts. On it, Emily was talking about the route she prepared for today, but Lily wasn't listening. It was a cold day and the wind, that was flowing between her legs, didn't help. She put her hands between her legs. When getting out of the lift, Lily saw a small bar. "Surely there is a toilet there" she thought. Lily turned around to Emily: "Emily, I really have to..." But Emily was not there. She was already 15 metres ahead on the slope. Lily had no choice than to follow her. There were different paths to get down and they might lose each other if they don't stay together. The slope was full of people, so there was no way she could squat anywhere. As she realized that there was no chance of relieve anytime soon, her need to pee increased drastically. Lily started to panic. Emily stopped when the slopes split apart. The easy, but longer path was marked with a blue arrow, and the much shorter but a little more difficult path, was marked with a red arrow. "I'll say we take the blue path to slowly get going for today" Emily said. "Emily, I need to pee so bad, like really bad" Lily said, while putting a hand between her legs, because crossing her legs was obviously not possible "Alright then, let's take a break when we are back down" Emily replied, seemingly not aware of how desperate Lily was. She followed Emily down the blue path, looking for spots where she can try squatting, though knowing that she won't find any. It was a narrow path, with many other skiers. While skiing, Lily was able to blend out the fact that she was close to embarrassing herself. They then finally arrived at the Cafe at the bottom of the lift. Lily quickly removed her ski and ran into the cafe, only to realize that it was 1pm and the the cafe was absolutely packed. She looked for the restroom and found a single bathroom with one toilet with a line of 15 woman. Using the bathroom with ski clothes takes forever, which explains the huge line. "Okay, calm down Lily" she thought. She crossed her legs and started to think. If one woman takes a minute in the bathroom, this would take 15 minutes. Wouldn't it be faster to use the lift and get to the bar she has seen previously? She pressed her hand on her crotch. Her bladder needs an answer now. She decides that it would be better to go back up and quickly gets out of the cafe to look for Emily. She was sitting on one of the wooden benches. "Emily, I can't hold it anymore, the line is too long. We need to use the lift and get up to the bar at the top" "What?" Emily replied "I just made it so comfortable for myself and ordered a cup of tea to keep myself warm, I can't leave now. Just go to the line and wait" "No, no you don't understand" Lily was getting louder to make a point. "I'm about to piss myself, I..." She stopped talking in order to stop something else. Her urine just made a push to get outside and it took all her strength to stop it. "Well I don't know what you want me to do" Emily said while drinking her tea. Another wave hit Lily. This time she couldn't stop it completely. A fairly big amount of pee came out, making her panties wet. Lily couldn't believe it. She was peeing herself, as a 19 year old, in front of her best friend. She looked around. Everywhere there were people, eating and drinking. No private place where she could pee. The toilet line is too long. Lily realized all hope was lost. Tears started to roll down her eyes as her bladder gave up. At first her panties were soaked, then her panty hose and leggings and lastly her ski pants. A puddle formed on the bench she was sitting, which then dropped on the snow, coloring it yellow. On the bright side, the pee felt warm and Lily was finally relieved. But she also felt extremely embrassed. "Oh my.." Emily screamed, as she saw what was unfolding in front of her eyes, but when she looked in the red face of her friend she felt nothing about pity and anger at herself, for not taking Lily's countless hints to look for a bathroom seriously. "I'm so sorry Lily, I didn't know that you had to go so bad, I didn't think that.." "Its okay" Lily said "It's okay". Lily was scared that Emily would laugh at her, but that reaction made the accident a little bit better. Luckily, her ski pants were black so no one else could see. "I think it's better we go home, change clothes and shower, don't you think?" Emily asked. The warm pee slowly turned into cold ice, so Lily agreed. Emily finished her tea and headed for the bathroom in the cafe. The struggle of Lily affected her as well, so she decided that she wouldn't want to risk it, considering the coffee she drunk in the morning and the tea now. But the line hasn't gotten shorter, in fact, a school class, probably from one of the local towns, was waiting now as well. The young girls took even longer, because a teacher had to come in with them as well. "Ugh" she mumbled. Emily started to think about the bar Lily has mentioned and she had seen previously, though only short. It would be smarter to go there and take the lift instead of waiting here. She told Lily her idea and although she wasn't happy to go back up with her wet pants, she agreed. They left their skis at the cafe, as they planned to take the lift back down anyway. On the lift, Emily crossed her legs and started to talk with Lily about what happened and apologized multiple times. After a while they could just laugh about it and Emily even touched Lily's wet spots between her legs. But Emily's need to pee increased as well and after they both got out of the lift, Emily rushed to the bar. But she was disspaointed, because she didn't find what she was expecting. Instead of a small house, it was more of an open carriage selling souvenirs, some hot meals and drinks. There was no toilet, but Emily still asked for one. "There is one at the maintenance house, but it's only for employees" the lady at the desk replied. Emily is a shy girl, no way she would go to the maintenance house and ask for a toilet. She went back to Lily. "And?" she asked "There is no toilet here" Emily said. "And what do you want to do know?" "I don't know.." Emily leaned forward and put her hands between her legs. Her urge to pee suddenly got stronger. "I have to look for some place quiet where I can pee, I won't hold it for much longer". "I'll come with you" Lily said "I also still have to pee" They went around to look, but it was surprisingly busy for such a small lift and slope. Emily got desperate. Would she have to pee herself just like Lily? But Lily spotted a small cabin on the slope. "We can squat behind it. Most skiers will go past us quickly and won't see much" Lily said. "But what if someone sees us?" Emily expressed her concerns "Do you rather want to piss yourself, like I did?". As there were no other options, both quickly ran down the slope behind the cabin. Emily's need to pee increased dramatically. She walked behind the cabin, followed by Lily, and waited for some of the skiers to pass. She crossed her legs. Why are there so many? Another one, another one. Lily didn't seem to care. She squatted and undressed herself and started to pee. The sight of Lily made her own need unbearable. She squatted down. Her bladder now knew: It was time to pee. Emily opened her jacket to get the suspenders of her ski pants down. She quickly unbuttoned her pants and dragged them down. Her pee slowly started to make its way out. She undressed her leggings. Her pee splashed out as she put her panties away from her crotch. It was a strong and loud stream. Emily moaned a little when she was finally able to relieve herself. The snow under her was quickly colored yellow. She peed for a good 30 seconds until the stream finally stopped. She dressed herself again. "Wow" Lily said "You REALLY had to pee". They both looked at each other and then started laughing. What happened today has made their friendship even stronger.
Thanks for reading. That turned out much longer than I expected. It would be nice if I could get some feedback as I am still unsure if i managed to write good desperation and pee/wetting parts |
Amy Shaw nervously open the door to the human resources office and slowly walked in, her stomach tense with dread. Amy had worked for DataCorp for five years, this was her first time being written up.
DataCorp was a large corporation of about 850 employees, it had a reputation for harsh discipline of its staff. DataCorp humiliated wayward employees by publicly posting discipline records and making employees wear a special uniform shirt if they were on disciplinary probation. Nearly every week an email was sent to all employees detailing the suspension or termination of an under-performing co-worker.
As Amy handed the yellow paper to the secretary she was too ashamed to make eye contact. It was humiliating enough to be sent to the company office with a disciplinary referral, it was even worse that she was doing it in wet pants. As the secretary began processing the disciplinary referral form, Amy wiped a tear from her face, but there was no wiping the urine streaks from her pants legs.
Amy shivered in embarrassment as the secretary picked up the phone and spoke to the HR director. "I have Amy Shaw here with a discipline referral. She is charged with violating the Hygiene Policy.....Yes ma'am, it's visible...very visible! I'll take the evidence photos then bring her in."
The sectetary stood up and motioned Amy to a spot against the wall. "I am required to take photos to document your offense. The first photo will be from the front, please stand still." Amy looked at the floor as the shutter clicked. "I need you to look at the camera during this." Reluctantly, Amy looked up so her face could be seen in the photo. Amy was then directed to turn around and face the wall. She sniffled as the secretary photographed her soaked butt.
"Follow me, you will now report to Mrs. Ashcroft." Amy was led down the hall and ushered into the office of the HR Director.
Taking the yellow discipline form from the secretary's hand, Mrs. Ashcroft shook her head in disgust as she looked at Amy. "It's so dissapointing to see a grown woman in such a state." she commented as her secretary was leaving.
As the secretary walked out and closed the door, Mrs. Ashcroft walked closer to Amy and inspected her clothes from both the front and the rear. Amy was wearing a green polo shirt with the company logo (the uniform for low level employees in good standing) and light blue jeans that hugged her butt and thighs. The light blue denim did nothing to hide the urine that had saturated her crotch and buttocks, then had run down the inside of her thighs and calves. Amy could even feel that her socks had been drenched and her shoes still had urine in them.
"The discipline referral from your supervisor indicates that you seemed distracted all morning and that a few minutes before the approved mid-morning break you left your cubicle and began to rush out of your work area. When you were found in the hallway you were urinating on yourself. The discipline referral form only lists a violation of the Hygiene Policy, explain to me why I shouldn't add a charge of leaving your workstation without permission? "
"I um, ah, er..." Amy couldn't find words to make an excuse. She looked at Mrs. Ashcroft as tears began to form again.
"Your personnel file tells me you are 32 years old; far to old to be urinating in your pants! I don't see any mention of a medical condition requiring special toilet access. Since you have nothing to say for yourself, I have no reason to be lenient with you."
Amy begged, "Please, I didn't mean to have an accident! I started a new diet over the weekend that involves drinking a lot of water and I haven't gotten my restroom timing figured out yet. I was trying to make it to the scheduled mid morning break, but I just couldn't make it. I didn't want to pee on my chair or to get pee on the carpet at my work station so I ran the restroom when I felt the first leak into my panties. It just came out so fast that I couldn't make it any farther than the hall. It was an accident. Please don't punish me!"
"Improper planning, is hardly considered an 'accident'! There is no excuse for a healthy woman to urinate on herself in the workplace! I see no prior disciplinary action in your file so you will not be terminated for today's offense, but I will be making an example of you with the other employees!"
Amy fidgeted as Mrs. Ashcroft finished filling out the discipline record. After several uncomfortable minutes Amy heard Mrs. Ashcroft speak again.
"I need to be stern with you, so you understand how inappropriare your actions were for the workplace. I also feel your coworkers could learn a lesson by observing the discipline you will be receiving.
"For the remainder of the work day you are required to be placed on display in your soiled clothing in places where your coworkers are likely to observe you in your disgraceful state. At lunch time you will stand near the entrance to the cafeteria. During mid-afternoon break you will stand near the employee restrooms. At the end of the work day you will be displayed at the exit leading to the employee parking ramp.
"For the next 12 months you're placed on disciplinary status. You are required to where an orange shirt which will signify to your coworkers that you are being disciplined. For the next 12 months you will receive a 15% reduction in pay and you are ineligible for any bonuses. You are ineligible to apply for a promotion for during that time. Any policy infraction during that time may qualify for termination, no matter how minor the offense.
"For one year a copy of the disciplinary action will be publicly posted outside your workstation along with the evidence photos that were taken. The disciplinary action and photos will also be emailed company-wide to each of DataCorp's employees to make certain they are aware of the consequences for violating the Hygiene Policy.
"You are required to write an article for the monthly DataCorp employee newsletter. This article must describe the importance of the Hygiene Policy , the circumstances of your violation, the consequences you are enduring for violating the policy, and the lessons you have learned from these consequences.
"Security will escort you to the employee cafeteria to begin your public display. You are dismissed!"
Amy's jaw dropped in disbelief as she was told her punishment. She had assumed she would be sent home for the day, and have a reprimand in her file, but she never could have imagined these consequences!
Amy was mortified at being required to stand on display in her wet jeans for the rest of the day. She despised the thought of having to write about her shame in the company newsletter. She was devestated to hear the photos of her wet front and rear we're going to be emailed to each employee, then posted for a year as a reminder to any co-worker who walked by. Amy couldn't comprehend enormous humiliation she was about to experience!
As Amy turned to walk out of Mrs. Ashcroft's office she could feel the cold, clammy,itchy denim as it clung to her body. As she trudged uncomfortably out of the office she was too stunned to even cry as the security guard grabed her arm to begin walking her to the cafeteria to begin the most degrading experience of her life. |
This is another MCU fanfic also written as a commission. Again it's set in an AU which means the timeline doesn't add up, but this is mainly so Shuri and Kamala are over 18.
It's not finished! Towards the end the guy decided he was gonna not pay for it. I've put it here in the hopes someone at least will enjoy it and that will be better than nothing.
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The sun had long set over Malibu, California, but the moonlight still illuminated every inch of the ocean outside. From the sweeping windows of Tony Stark's mansion, it was impossible to ignore the way it reflected on the black water that washed against sandy shores, a pearly-white orb hanging low in the night sky. Down, hundreds of metres below at the foot of a jagged cliff, the only thing breaking the silence would be the rhythmic lapping of gentle waves on the coast. As one ventured further up the hill, other noises would slowly fade into play: the rushing of distant cars, or perhaps occasional calls from nocturnal birds. Inside, however, the celebrations were only just beginning.
The biggest rooms were crawling with guests from every walk of life. Superheroes, soldiers, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents (attending on the down-low, as always), Wakandans, aliens, at least one Asgardian God and a raccoon. Right in the centre of the chaos stood Pepper Potts, left as usual with the impossible role of hostess and doing her best to make sense of it all. Dressed head to toe in white, Pepper kept ducking and weaving from spot to spot, trying to ensure she talked to every guest, desperately hoping she wouldn't forget anyone. To make matters harder, she was growing increasingly aware that she needed the toilet. It wasn't a pressing urge yet, but Pepper knew that at some point during the evening she'd have to find the time to visit the bathroom and relieve herself. This was far from ideal; it wasn't very ladylike to abandon the party, especially as hostess. Gritting her teeth, Pepper resolved to forget about it and hold on for a while longer.
True to character, Carol Danvers was one of the last to arrive, and Pepper headed straight over to greet her. Pepper's interactions with the famous Captain Marvel had been limited, so she was keen to be polite and make a good impression. She offered the blonde woman a drink, which Carol accepted graciously, and showed her to the food tables. Tony's parties were known for getting a little wild as the night went on, but Pepper could see that this was a woman who could handle wild.
Of course, Pepper thought as she scanned the room, the same could be said of pretty much every woman there. She spotted the small contingent of Wakandans not far from the door- Okoye, Shuri and Nakia were standing in a group, being introduced by Thor to his plus-one, a woman Pepper barely knew called Jane Foster. Then there were the five Shield agents in the other corner, who could no doubt take care of themselves. Peggy Carter was among them- and as one of the very few people Pepper knew who had lived through a world war, she was fairly confident that Peggy could handle one of Tony's ill-advised DJ sets.
The wildcard was a young newcomer called Kamala Khan, who people were starting to call Ms Marvel. Pepper only knew three things about the girl- that she wasn't old enough to legally drink, that she was a muslim who didn't drink anyway and that she had some seriously impressive powers. Right now she was gushing emphatically at poor Carol Danvers, who hadn't even had time to eat yet. Nonetheless, Pepper liked what she'd seen so far from Kamala. The kid had nerve, but she seemed sweet enough. Then, of course, there was Natasha Romanoff, who stood by the bar flirting idly with Bruce Banner. Black Widow was probably tougher than anyone else in the room, Pepper reminded herself. As she watched Nat and Bruce, it hit her again- that familiar feeling of needing to use the bathroom, although she knew she still had some time before it became an emergency.
Throughout her life, Pepper had always struggled with using the toilet while there were other people nearby. Public restrooms had always been a no-go-zone unless she had no other choice, and only when she was desperate could she relax enough to go while even her own home was busy. But tonight was looking certain to be one of those nights where she couldn't avoid at least a couple of trips to one of the mansion's bathrooms, so she was determined to get it over with. With any luck, the glasses of wine she'd already polished off would help move things along. And the sooner the better- things were starting to get uncomfortable, after all.
As if by some magic, Tony appeared at her side, wearing- inexplicably- sunglasses and a blazer. Her husband liked to dress up in style, no doubt about it. He'd been playing snooker with Rhodey and Clint Barton for most of the party so far, but Pepper was extremely glad to see him now. The pressure in her bowels was building, and a fullness in her bladder wasn't much better. Quietly, she blamed both on the Sauvignon.
"Tony, hi. Can you watch the party for a second?" she asked sweetly.
"Sure, what's up?" he was looking at her funny, she just knew it, even beneath those sunglasses. He could tell something was up with her. But Pepper had never had any problems with talking about her bodily functions to boyfriends, so she told him the truth.
"I have to use the bathroom. For both things," she clarified before he could ask, "but I'll be back soon. Love you". Pepper must have been in more of a hurry than she'd realised, because she rushed off in the direction of the nearest bathroom without waiting for a reply. She could feel warm gas bubbling up inside of her, but point-blank refused to let any escape. Here, wearing a white jumpsuit in the middle of an expensive mansion surrounded by powerful people, she was not gong to fart. So, instead, she pressed on, even when a nasty thought hit her.
It'd be just my luck if there's a line, a voice in her head piped up. But would it be luck? Was it really unlikely that, in a very busy party, multiple people would need the bathroom at once? With a serious need to sit down on a porcelain throne beginning to intensify in her belly, Pepper could only hope that she would be the first person to get to the toilet.
She had no way of knowing just how many others were in the same situation.
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Kamala Khan first realised something was wrong when she felt a cramping in her stomach. As a healthy young woman who ate well and never drunk alcohol, she rarely got sick, and this was a feeling she wasn't much used to. She'd just been called over to grab a drink with Shuri, the only other person in the room anywhere near her age, when it first crept up on her. A sharp pain in the belly, a sudden desire to stop walking and lean on something. Kamala recognised it immediately; she had to poop. But Shuri was waiting across the room, smiling her sly smile, and Kamala didn't want to make her wait.
Well sure, she found Shuri a little intimidating. So what? Lots of people were probably intimidated by this teenage genius, this woman of almost impossible intelligence. Only a couple of people in the room could hold a candle to Shuri's brain, and yet she still managed to be a normal person... well, most of the time. Tonight wearing a flowery cream dress and impeccably white heels, she couldn't have looked more different to the Shuri Kamala had met before. But beyond the clothes she had the same cheeky smile, the same glint in her eyes that reassured Kamala that they weren't so different after all.
"Come on, Kam," Shuri said, grabbing Kamala gently on the wrist and leading her away. It took Kamala a few seconds to realise that they were going in the wrong direction, away from the drinks. They veered past Bruce Banner, around Thor and Jane and towards the back of the colossal room, where it branched out into the rest of the house.
"I thought we were getting drinks?" Kamala asked, genuinely confused. Shuri just laughed.
"No, silly, we're going to the bathroom. I just didn't want to shout that at you across the party," she said. Quietly, Kamala felt relieved; it would be nice to get a chance to try and deal with the brewing in her belly.
"Why did you take me?" she pressed tentatively.
"Kamala, you have a lot to learn," Shuri smirked, "you can't just go off to the bathroom by yourself at a party, you would look like such a loser". She slipped past the turned back of Steve Rogers and they were free, out of the crowd and into open space. "Besides, you're the only person here my age. It's good to bond".
Kamala smiled and relaxed a little; it was great to know that Shuri saw her as a friendly face in the crowd too. She was also grateful to Shuri for breaking the ice, because she'd been beginning to worry about the moment in the evening when she would have to slip away to use the bathroom, and now she knew she wouldn't have to be alone.
"Pepper said the bathroom is just around this corner," Shuri continued, "which is a relief because-" she slipped into a stage-whisper, possibly a little tipsy, "I really need to poop".
Kamala's eyebrows shot up. "For real?" she asked. Shuri patted her stomach as they walked and laughed.
"I feel like I ate a horse," she said quietly.
"Me too! Wow, I'm so glad I'm not the only one who has to poop," Kamala breathed, "I was worried it would be so embarrassing making you wait while I sat there and squeezed one out". Both girls cracked up at this, and Kamala felt ten pounds lighter. Shuri just turned to her and winked.
"What would you do without me, hm?"
But the second they turned the corner both girl's moods changed completely. Kamala's face fell at the sight of the gathering outside of what she assumed was the bathroom, which certainly looked like it would be there a while.
Standing right by the door was a pale young woman in an orange dress and deep scarlet lipstick. Immediately, Kamala recognised her as Agent Peggy Carter, the wartime spy who had worked with Captain America decades ago. She looked worse for wear, standing on one leg and leaning the other heel against the wall. Her thighs were pressed tightly together, as if she was afraid that something might fall out should she open them. There was a barely-noticeable bounce in her posture, which made her hair and breasts jiggle just the tiniest amount as she moved. These were the little things that any fellow woman would recognise as the subtle signs of someone in serious need of a toilet.
Standing opposite was another S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, this one from a far more recent time- Maria Hill, once right-hand-woman to Nick Fury, was staring down at her mobile phone, one leg crossed over the other. Kamala knew that stance all too well as well: it was the kind of posture you tried when you really had to use the bathroom but really didn't want anyone to notice. Natasha Romanoff completed the picture, across the doorway from Peggy, hand outstretched as if she was ready to knock on the wood and tell whoever was in there to hurry the hell up. Her hair, which today was strawberry blonde, flowed almost shoulder-length. She looked up as the two young women rounded the corner.
"Let me guess: stomach problems?" she asked dryly. Kamala didn't have much confidence to engage in a conversation about bowel movements with one of the most powerful women in the world, but Shuri thought nothing of it. The Wakandan groaned in frustration as she took her place behind Maria in the queue.
"Yes, and I have to pee as well," she said, her accent showing through even more in her annoyance, "is there something up with the food?"
"Must be," Maria opined, "five women all having to go at the same time isn't exactly common".
"Who's in there right now?"
"We don't know," said Nat, "but they'd better hurry up or Peggy's going to burst".
Peggy shook her head irritably; she seemed to resent the implication that she needed the toilet whatsoever, even though it was plain and obvious to Kamala.
"I'm completely fine," she insisted, "just a touch of stomach trouble, nothing to worry about". Kamala privately felt that telling such a blatant lie to two spies and a genius was optimistic at best, but she kept her mouth shut. She could empathise with Peggy's desire to pretend she didn't have to go, even though she was clearly already getting desperate.
"Well, whoever it is, I hope they come out soon, or I'm going to burst", Shuri said, "and I really like this dress".
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To Natasha Romanoff, waiting for the bathroom was just part of the day job. As a highly-trained spy, self-control was essential. A good poker face was vital too. And so whenever she found herself urgently needing to poop or- more frequently- pee, Natasha's only option was to grit her teeth and do whatever it took to hold it in. Sometimes, in a high-pressure environment when combat was likely, that could become nearly impossible. On those occasions, it could feel more like a damage limitation job. She remembered well a day when she was a young operative when she had asked about it. On that particular day, they had been working long hours with no bathroom available, and Natasha had damn near wet herself. Yet her colleagues had never even shown any sign of discomfort. Her mentors had made it perfectly clear how they approached their bodily functions: keep a straight face at all costs. Leaking was fine, farting was fine, but you could never let anyone know you had to go. Squirming, squeezing- to a spy these were all signs of vulnerability, and showing vulnerability was a dangerous thing to do out on the field.
Now, though, she wasn't out on the field. She was in line at a house party, surrounded by women with far less experience than herself in the art of holding. The worst that could happen here was a touch of embarrassment, which wasn't something Natasha particularly cared about. She'd seen far too much and lived far too long to still be blushing like a child over something as juvenile as having to take a dump. She would do her best to hold it, of course she would, for that was what was expected of her. But she wasn't about to feel any shame if a few farts needed to come out- if that's what it took. No, Natasha's motivations were far more high-stakes than that, and they concerned Bruce Banner. Herself and Bruce were beginning to get somewhere in their relationship, moving slowly beyond the flirtatious stage that they had found themselves stagnating in. She had been hoping that tonight could be that night, and suspected that shitstained panties rarely led to passionate, steamy affairs.
Still, she thought, it could be worse. Peggy Carter still looked like she was struggling to control herself, but it was Maria Hill who was experiencing the most rapid transformation. Within minutes, she had gone from calm (if slightly irritated) to looking seriously panicked. Like Natasha, Maria was no stranger to having to play it straight when she needed the toilet, but whatever was happening inside her body right now was something she couldn't keep under wraps. All the symptoms were there- the kind of signs that spies were trained to look out for to spot when someone was lying, but they applied just as nicely tonight. Hill was sweating, Natasha noticed, and her breathing was certainly shallow. It was an air conditioned hallway. Then there was one far more obvious piece of evidence: the unmistakable scent of a fart, strong and earthy, that must have slipped out silently at some point. There was no mistaking that it had come from Maria.
Nat was pulled out of this train of thought by the sound of hurried footsteps around the corner, and seconds later it was Pepper Potts who arrived on the scene. Their hostess may have been in a gorgeous white jumpsuit, but her cheeks were undeniably a deep red. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the line outside the bathroom: two teenagers, a spy and two SHIELD agents, almost all looking like they had to go at least as badly as she did. It was clearly bad news for Pepper. She pushed her legs together and took a step towards Kamala at the back of the line.
"Who's in there?" she asked in disbelief. Natasha told her the same thing they had told Shuri- they didn't know, but they needed to get out soon so that the women outside could start getting some relief. "Jesus," Pepper sighed, "some timing. I almost never get desperate, of course it happens when there's a line".
"Number one or number two?" asked Kamala helpfully, looking almost immediately like she regretted opening her mouth. She paused a second, and then meekly said "I don't know why I said that".
"Both," Pepper admitted, looking worried, "maybe something was up with the food?"
"Something was definitely up with the food," Shuri agreed, "I pooped before the party, and now I really have to go again. And ten minutes ago I didn't even need one at all".
"Me neither," Kamala said, looking mortified.
"Nor me," said Maria. Pepper looked over at Agent Hill for the first time- she had been quiet since the hostess had arrived in the queue, but now it was like Pepper was getting her first proper look at Maria.
"Christ, Maria, are you okay?" there was genuine concern in her voice. It was justified, too; the agent was clearly in a lot of distress.
"I don't feel good at all," she admitted, clutching her belly with one hand, "my body just wants to push it out".
"I know, hun, me too, but we have to fight that," Pepper said soothingly.
"If you fart, it might relieve some of the pressure," Natasha suggested.
"No way. Not in front of everyone," Hill insisted, even though it was clear that she was tempted by the prospect of letting some gas out.
"Why not? I will if you will," Nat pressed.
"And me," Shuri offered, looking very much as though she wanted any excuse to relieve some of the fullness in her stomach. Maria was a proud woman, though, and she shook her head.
"Thanks, but it's okay," she lied, "I don't even need to f-" but before she could finish the sentence, it happened. A loud, wet fart rumbled out of her, impossible for anyone in the room to miss. Her eyes went wide and her hand flew to her mouth in shock as the incredible noise escaped. All eyes and ears were on the dark-haired woman, cheeks burning in this moment of shame. Her other hand crept to her backside, feeling around tentatively as if scared of what she might find. Seconds later, though, a sigh of relief told Natasha that the damage wasn't too bad- yet.
Peggy didn't seem to be able to cope with what she had just seen. Nat felt sorry for the woman- she knew how it felt to see someone else get some relief while you were desperate, after all. With a whimper, the British agent took off and hastily headed down the corridor and out of sight. Watching her walk away from behind, it wasn't hard to see that her cheeks were clenched viciously.
"Damn, is she going to be okay?" Nat asked Maria, who knew Peggy much better than any of them.
"I don't know- she's just really shy about bathroom stuff. When she first came back to S.H.I.E.L.D. she didn't ask anyone where the bathrooms were for twelve hours".
"Well, she is a young woman from wartime England," Shuri pointed out, "I'm guessing when she grew up girls weren't exactly meant to talk about this kind of thing, no?"
"Good point," Pepper said, "but I have to go back to the party. I'm no good to anyone standing here trying not to crap my pants," she sighed.
"Are you much more help out there trying not to crap your pants?" Natasha asked dubiously.
"Maybe not," she conceded, "but at least-" she farted then, a low, ominous sound, " -I'll be doing something". She turned and walked back towards the party room, disappearing around the corner. Nat heard a second pair of footsteps, these ones growing louder, and Pepper's voice saying "Oh, hi, Jane. Good luck!"
Natasha didn't know Jane Foster very well at all, but she could see what Thor liked about her. The woman was a natural beauty, with flowing brown hair and soft eyes. She was dressed in dark jeans and a silky top, which- judging by the way she was walking- were in danger of ending up stained.
"You have to poop too?" Shuri asked. The older woman looked taken aback by Shuri's forwardness, but frowned and shook her head.
"Actually, no, not at all. Why?"
"Did you eat any of the food?"
"What do you mean?"
"Any of the food here," Shuri explained patiently, "at the party. We think the food is what's making everyone need to go number two".
"Uh, I don't actually eat at parties," Jane said, clearly not comfortable having this conversation about pooping with a group of famous women.
"That settles it, then," Maria said, "the food has given us all the shits. So why are you here?"
"And why are you squirming so much?" Kamala added, perhaps a little insensitively.
Jane looked beyond embarrassed at this, but didn't seem interested in ignoring the question.
"Parties make me nervous. Superheroes and spies make me nervous. When I get nervous, I... drink. A lot".
"Ah"
"So you have to pee?" Shuri asked. Jane nodded.
"Well, join the club," Maria said dryly, "I feel like I'm going to explode".
"Me too," Shuri said.
"And me," Kamala confessed, looking down, "I drank a lot of soda earlier".
"Well, great," Jane said, "I guess I'd better join the back of the line?"
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By the time Pepper emerged back into the bustle of the party, it was abundantly clear that plenty of her guests had been hit by whatever was making her stomach cramp painfully. Stumbling past Clint Barton with his wife and a black-haired guest she didn't recognise, she bumped into Carol Danvers, bent at the waist and squirming openly.
"Pepper! What's going on? I ate something from the table and now I feel like I'm gonna shit my pants".
"I know, I know, me too. Something is wrong with the food, I have a line of girls outside the bathroom who are about to poop themselves and I'm no better off".
"Fuck, seriously? And I have to piss, too".
"I think we have to just try and hold it, Carol," Pepper said exasperatedly, "I gotta keep doing the rounds, assess the damage". She disappeared back into the crowd, where two faces jumped out at her- the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents Melinda May and Daisy Johnson, who were sat together on a couch against one wall.
"Daisy, May, hi," she greeted them, feeling another heavy twinge in her bowels, "you guys ok?"
"I don't feel great, Pepper," May confided, "my stomach hurts like I have to poop bad"
"Same here, but when we went to hit the bathroom we heard that the line was huge," Daisy added.
"Yeah, it's huge alright," Pepper confirmed, "the food was off. Almost everyone seems to need to poop or pee or both, I'm just trying to find out how many there are".
"Have you seen Jemma?"
"Jemma's here?" Pepper asked, confused, "I haven't seen her anywhere".
"Yeah, she went off to find another bathroom but she might've got lost. You know Jemma," May said.
"Shit, okay. If I see her I'll let you know," Pepper said, heading back into the jumble of guests. There were still a couple of people she needed to talk to.
It didn't take long to find them, either, being the only two adult Wakandans in the building. Okoye and Nakia stood a few metres away from the rest of the pack, dressed as extravagantly as always, examining the crowd around them with a mixture of curiosity and caution. The former wore a tight red suit, not as jarring as her armour but certainly unlike anything else anyone at the party could pull off. The latter donned a gorgeous purple dress which showed off her legs brilliantly. Pepper hadn't spoken much to either woman, but she had to find out how they were doing.
"Ladies, hello," she said, perhaps a little more carefully than she had intended, "is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, thank you, Mrs Stark," Okoye said gracefully.
"Please, call me Pepper," she said for about the fiftieth time that evening, "and are you sure? No illnesses or anything?" Even though Pepper knew she wasn't being very conspicuous, she needed to get to the bottom of this. But she could see that she'd struck a sensitive nerve with Okoye, who struck her a look that quite plainly said she wasn't interested in discussing it.
"We're very well, Pepper, thank you," Nakia reiterated. She seemed far more well-versed in the etiquette of nights like these than her companion. "Would you come and get a drink with me? I'd love to ask you about those earrings". She smiled a beautiful smile at Pepper, and linked arms with her before walking away towards the bar. As soon as they were out of Okoye's earshot, though, her voice changed. Panic was evident in the young woman's tone.
"Pepper, please tell me that line outside the bathroom is going down," she pleaded. Pepper's face was white as she shook her head.
"I'm sorry, it's still busy. How did you even know about the line?"
"I have a phone, Shuri has a phone, she tells me these things," Nakia said dismissively. Once they reached the bar, she stopped, turned and placed a hand on each of Pepper's slim shoulders. "I'm in real trouble here, Pepper, we both know something was in that food. I'm telling you, if I don't get on a toilet soon I won't make it".
"But Okoye said-"
"Okoye is full of shit," Nakia said, waving her hand, "she is too proud to admit that she has to go just as bad as the rest of us. Not one minute ago she told me that she has never had to poop so badly before. We need to do something about that line, Pepper, or-"
Even over the noise of the party, Pepper couldn't mistake the sound of a sharp fart from Nakia's perfectly toned butt. She had never seen embarrassment on the Wakandan's strong features, but she saw it now.
"Forgive me, Pepper, I'm in desperate need of a bathroom," she apologised, trying to maintain some sense of regality.
"Don't worry about it, please," Pepper said sincerely, "my farts are even worse, especially tonight". Nakia nodded, looking grateful for the reassurance. "Anyway, I need to keep moving, got a lot of guests to check on- and walking helps me keep my poop in," she admitted guiltily.
"Go, Pepper," Nakia said, "but whatever it takes, get that line moving".
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Peggy Carter had never needed the toilet so badly in her life.
Her bladder cramped and her bowels grumbled as she fumbled her way across the corridor and stumbled into the first empty room she could find- the kitchen. It wasn't the perfectly secluded spot she had been looking for, but it would have to do- her tortured body felt as though it had very little capacity left to walk anywhere without erupting. But giving up was not in Peggy's nature, and so she kept clinging on to the last of her self-control, even as the farts started to come, the kind of farts she knew well from her childhood- the kind of farts that meant that something solid was coming and there was nothing she could do about it.
In the dim light of the quiet room, she tried everything to make things easier- sitting, standing, leaning against the wall. Nothing helped, so she was left leaning on a high chair by the window. Her pussy still ached with the need to pee, her bum was still heavy as the first of her poop threatened to poke out, and she could still think about nothing but how unlikely it was that she would make it to the toilet on time. Peggy's legs jiggled frantically, rapidly bouncing in an effort to help her hold it. One of the advantages of being alone was that she didn't have to worry about looking silly while trying to hold, which had been her biggest fear back in the line, and now she felt free to reach behind her and squeeze her cheeks closed, which did a little to ease the pressure. But as she stared out of the glass pane, fingers practically massaging her tight cheeks closed, a sudden voice from behind startled her. She knew that voice. There was only one other woman at the party tonight with that English accent.
"Hello, Peggy. Room for two?" Jemma Simmons said, smiling cheekily despite herself. Peggy could immediately feeling her face turn an even deeper shade of pink- she'd been caught doing... that... to hold it in, caught by another agent. It was beyond embarrassing- she'd been seen grabbing her bum like a little girl! But she was surprised to realise that she didn't mind Jemma finding her. Not much. Certainly, there was nobody else in the building she'd rather talk to right now than Jemma. "Don't look so embarrassed," the other Brit said, stepping into the room," you're not the only one who needs a poo".
Peggy raised an eyebrow. "You too?"
Jemma nodded. "And Daisy and even May. I've never seen May desperate before, it's a lot of fun. I came here looking for a second bathroom but I got lost".
"The one down the hall seems to be the only one available right now," Peggy said resignedly.
"So why aren't you there?"
"Couldn't handle squirming in front of the line, it was too embarrassing".
"Ah. Well," Jemma said brightly, "you can squirm in front of me as much as you like, if I can squirm in front of you?"
"Deal," Peggy said, and they shook hands. She realised too late that her hand was hot and sweaty, and certainly smelled like farts. "So, uh... how bad do you need to go?"
"Like you wouldn't believe, Pegs," she groaned, "you know when it's starting to poke out?"
"Know it? I'm living it right now," Peggy said, surprised at how honest she was being, "but it's bad enough being desperate for a poo, I'm absolutely bursting for a wee too".
"You're kidding," Jemma laughed, "that really does suck. I remember one bad date a few years ago when I was bursting at both ends. I was too shy to tell them and by the time they dropped me home I had the worst accident before I could get the door open!"
"Now, Jemma, don't make me laugh too hard," Peggy warned seriously, "I think I just leaked a little bit". Jemma did her best to keep a straight face, but failed.
"I'm bloody desperate," she said. "I'm seriously going to poo myself in a minute. I'm starting to consider that sink".
For a moment Peggy wasn't sure if she was being serious, but one look at Jemma's face told her she was joking. All at once, she felt a sudden urge to fart come on. Around any other company in the world, she would never even have considered it, but Jemma had made her feel comfortable being more open about her bodily needs.
"I want to apologise in advance for what I'm about to do," Peggy teased, lifting one leg to let rip. But as soon as it escaped her, she knew something wasn't right. The fart sounded squishy, squelchy... as she placed her leg back down, there was no mistaking the feeling. She'd gambled and lost. "Oh, fuck," she whispered, her face turning pale.
"What happened?"
"It wasn't a fart," Peggy mumbled, getting to her feet, "it was much worse than a fart, what do I do?"
"Okay, calm down, Pegs. You're not the first girl to let out more than you bargained. Here's what we're going to do: we'll go back to the bathroom-"
"I can't go back there, they'll know I'm desperate-"
"Not if you keep it together for a bit longer, Peggy. You just need to hang on a few more minutes and then you can poo".
"Shit, okay, it might be the only option. Come with me?"
"Of course," Jemma said, ushering Peggy out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom, "would it help if I told you that you're not the only one with stained pants right now?"
"What?"
"I'm touching cloth," she explained simply.
"I don't know if that helps or not, but I didn't realise you were that desperate," Peggy stammered.
"Oh, yes. I may be small but my shits most certainly are not. And I feel like I'm about-" she held up two fingers very close together, " -this close to weeing in my knickers". Their voices grew more hushed as they approached the corridor where the bathroom stood. Jemma turned to Peggy, like a coach prepping an athlete for a big race. "Now, when we get out there, all you need to do is act natural and calm. Got it?"
Peggy looked into Jemma's sincere, sweet eyes... and felt the front of her panties turn hot and wet. "Fuck, I just lost a squirt of wee," she whispered, "how can I act natural with wee and poo in my knickers?"
"You have to try, Pegs," she insisted, "let's go".
The moment she pulled Peggy around the corner and in sight of the other women, both girls knew they'd made a mistake. The line still stood five women long, meaning that even if every girl managed to do their business in two minutes the wait would simply be too long for Peggy to hang in. Peggy wanted to run away, hide back around the corner and go find somewhere else to empty herself, but that stopped being an option when Kamala looked up and noticed them both. Kamala also would have noticed that both women were utterly busting for the loo, meaning that if they left now it would be obvious that they hadn't made it. Peggy's natural instinct to appear the mistress of self-control kicked in, and she walked calmly towards the others, hoping she looked nonchalant.
"Peggy, are you ok?" Natasha asked as she approached. Nat didn't look like she was doing too well herself, but certainly seemed to have a handle on things better than anyone else in the room. Peggy was determined to look just as composed, just as grown-up as Natasha, but every step was torture, and it took every fibre of her being to hold everything inside her, exhausting each muscle.
She opened her mouth to reply-
And shit her pants.
It did not come out slowly. It came out all at once, like the shart had in the kitchen, filling her underwear at a terrifying rate. Within a second, she had utterly soiled herself, and could do nothing except bend over at the waist and let it happen. Peggy could feel the sheer messiness of it all, squishing and stretching and squirming out of the sides of her panties, sliding and slipping down her smooth thighs and towards her feet. At the same time, her bladder finally gave in and began to empty itself into her knickers. What began as a trickle quickly became a cascade that saturated the fabric of her clothes. She was dimly aware that six other women were staring at her having the accident to end all accidents, the biggest poo she'd ever done, which refused to be held back.
Peggy's mouth formed a silent 'O', her eyes gazing without really seeing, bowels noisily evacuating into her clothes. She was confident that the whole room- no, most of the house- could hear what was happening in her butt at that moment, the sounds of wet farts muffled only by the liquids coming out after them. Her stomach continued to growl furiously even while her desperate need was abated, and she couldn't help feeling her piss and shit mixing in her underwear, melting together into something foul. She managed to get out the only words she could think to say:
"Oh, shit, no," Peggy moaned, another rope of hot mess squirting out of her arse. Shuri, Kamala, Natasha, Maria, Jane- all of them watching, all of them seeing and understanding exactly what was going on as one of the most dignified, respectable women they knew completely soiled herself from both ends. When, finally, she was finished, nobody quite knew what to do or say. The sight of this beautiful lady standing before them in underwear soaked and heavy with poop, feet in a puddle of urine, was almost too much to handle. Eventually, it was Shuri who spoke.
"Well, Peggy, I don't know if this makes you feel better," she said slowly, "but at least you weren't next in line".
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Several minutes later, drastic action was clearly in order. Peggy, sodden clothes clinging to her body, had been tearfully led away by Steve Rogers and Jemma to try and find some way to clean up. Tony had arrived with Steve, taken one look at the mess on his carpet and immediately called for some of his robotic creations to come and attempt to get the stains out of the floor. They were still there, scrubbing furiously, but Kamala privately felt that it wasn't going well. The smell alone suggested that those carpets would have to be replaced sooner rather than later.
Not that Kamala was in any position to care too much; she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so desperate. A strange sensation had struck her, one she'd felt only a few times before in her life: the feeling of poop sticking part-way out of her butt, waiting there, barely being kept in. The head had emerged, despite her best efforts, while she had watched Peggy's accident, and now it seemed too far gone to be sucked back inside. She didn't want to move around too much lest it slip out, but knew that standing totally still would make the others take notice. All she could do was feel without using her hands and try to figure out just how bad things were.
The log felt extremely thick, even by her standards, and she didn't doubt that it was a long one. This was the norm for Kamala Khan- her poops were almost always single-package affairs, and once they were out she was done. Therefore, the line between relief and humiliation for the young woman rested on whether she could win the battle with her buttcheeks and keep this turd inside of her. Beside her, her new friend Shuri didn't look confident either. She was openly squirming now, really struggling to hide just how desperate she was. Either way, Kamala was determined to hold on for as long as she could. She knew that the people around her saw her as just a kid, even with her powers. But she idolised some of these women, and it was so important not to let herself down in front of them.
That anxiety only intensified when Carol Danvers, of all people, walked around the corner. Carol was the ultimate idol for Kamala, close enough to a goddess. Now, she was faced with the very real possibility of messing herself in front of Captain Marvel. She couldn't let that happen. Her fears were relaxed a tad, though, when she realised that Carol was perhaps even more desperate than she was. That simple thought was a real shock to Kamala's system. The woman she had held up as a personal hero, put on a pedestal, was here right in front of her- on the verge of an accident. It just didn't compute that someone so brave and powerful could do something so humiliating, so... childish. The stunning blonde had one hand pressed firmly into her crotch, and carried the scent of sweat and stale farts. It was the least Captain-Marvel smell imaginable.
"Damn, so this is where the real party is, huh?" she asked dryly, trying to hide her urgent situation with humour.
"Your sarcasm is appreciated, Danvers," Maria snapped back. Kamala thought that was a pretty brave way to talk to one of the most powerful beings in the universe, but Carol let it slide.
"Who's in there?" she asked.
"We still don't know," Natasha said in frustration.
"Are you sure anyone's in there?" came a man's voice from down the corridor. Kamala turned her head to look and there was Tony Stark, a glass of whiskey in one hand, sunglasses now sitting on the top of his head. He gestured with his drink towards the robots on the floor, who were decidedly failing to remove Peggy Carter's runny mess. "Weapon-grade exoskeletons have never been much of a problem, but I see my domestic appliance design needs a little work".
"What do you mean?" Nat questioned, keen to backtrack, "why would the door be locked if there's nobody in there?"
"That door jams, from time to time," Tony told them as if it were obvious, "I told Pepper I fixed it a while back, but... well, I didn't". Considering how much alcohol Nat knew Tony had finished off already, she was impressed at how clear his words were.
"So you're saying this whole time we've been waiting for nobody?" Jane, who had been silent up to now, suddenly seemed furious.
"Uh, that'd be a yes. Sorry," he said insincerely, turning back towards the party, "I never liked this carpet much anyway- but that might be another thing not to tell Pepper". And with that, he was gone again, leaving a gaggle of stunned and desperate women in his wake.
The noise that broke the silence was inevitable- another wet fart, this one maybe the worst yet, which rung out through the room and bounced off the walls. The surprising thing was the culprit- Shuri. Had she not just heard it with her own ears, smelt it with her own nose, Kamala would have found it hard to believe that such a small girl could produce a noise like that. But it had certainly been Shuri.
"Sorry," she said awkwardly, "that was meant to be a silent one".
Before anyone could react, a sharp gasp of anguish from Maria interrupted. All heads snapped in her direction, where they caught the agent in shock, staring down disbelievingly at the crotch of her jeans. The front was stained a dark shade- there was only one thing that made a stain like that.
"Shit, I leaked," she groaned, sounding panicked. Ever helpful in a crisis, Natasha Romanoff jolted into action.
"We need to get this door open right now," she ordered. But Kamala was amazed when she was the one Nat turned to. "Can you get us in there?"
"E-easily," Kamala confirmed, "but what if someone really is in there?"
Natasha wasn't in the mood for waiting around anymore. She rapped smartly on the door with her knuckles three times. "Alright, if anyone's in there, you'd better speak up now. We've got Ms Marvel out here ready to bust in". She waited, breath held, for a few seconds, but nobody was surprised at the lack of a response. "Ok, kid, you're up".
Heart pounding, pride only slightly marred by the log that was still sticking out of her butt, Kamala waddled forward and slipped a long, stretched arm through the crack beneath the door. She reached up, fumbling for a second with the handle on the other side, but from that angle the door opened easily enough. With a click, she swung it agape and stepped aside. Maria, hands still buried in her crotch, stepped forward like she was escaping a prison. Kamala wanted to tell her to hurry, be as quick as she could before someone else lost control- but before she could summon the courage, the door had been locked and the muffled sound of Maria's zipper coming off was all that remained.
"Ah, shit, I hope she's quick," Shuri grumbled, vocalising what everyone else had been thinking.
"I hope you're all quick," Carol added, "I can't hang in much longer here- oh, crap!" she was almost doubled over, leaning against the wall with one hand. Kamala desperately wanted to help, but found herself powerless instead, unable to take her eyes away. She knew that any movement on her part could be enough to send that girthy log flying into her new panties.
"How long do you have?" Nat asked, concerned once again. Danvers lifted her head and looked Natasha in the eyes. She was wearing an expression Kamala had seen a few times before- once on her mother, once on a classmate and once just a moment ago on the face of Peggy Carter. It was the look of a woman realising she was about to lose control.
"Seconds," Carol gasped, "I just cramped up real bad and I can't move". It hurt Kamala to see her idol in that state, even if it was also deeply disconcerting. Was she really about to outlast someone that powerful? Nonetheless, she felt compelled to say something.
"You got this, Captain," she offered feebly, "just a little longer and you can go". But even as she spoke, Kamala changed her mind. There was something in Carol's eyes that they'd never seen before- resignation. Carol had suffered enough, and now she had finally given up.
"Sorry, kid," Carol muttered, "at least this is a cheap enough outfit".
That was the last thing anybody could say before Carol lost control. With one final, nauseating cramp, she had no choice but to bare down and push out what she had been so desperate for. It came in waves- first the hot, near-liquid shit that flowed from her like a river, then the pee that exploded from her quivering pussy. The noise of it was graphic, almost gravelly, and left little to the imagination. As she watched on, Kamala was fascinated by the sight of the bulge that grew in her hero's pants, stretching and expanding the material until it looked almost like she had a diaper on underneath.
"Oh God, I can't watch," Shuri cried, burying her face in Kamala's shoulder, "if I watch I'll poop myself too". Unlike Shuri, though, Kamala couldn't look away. This was the first time she'd ever really considered that someone like Carol could experience moments of such weakness- it was like watching a car crash. Carol couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's gaze as she continued to fill her pants and soak her thighs. Even she, a woman who was known for her emotional control, looked more than a little embarrassed to be messing and wetting herself in front of two teenagers who were still holding on. Attempting to comfort Shuri, Kamala went to pat her on the back- but she was so engrossed by Carol's accident that she misjudged her movement and hit well below the waist. There was only hand-to-butt contact for a brief moment, well under a second, and yet... Kamala was sure she felt something hard, something sticking out from Shuri's backside. It looked like Kamala wasn't the only one touching cloth.
It felt like several minutes before Carol was finally empty, even though Kamala knew it couldn't really have been so long. The smell that hung in the air was even worse than what Peggy had left, but at least this time there was no crying. In fact, once Carol's thunderous farts had calmed, the only noise left was of Natasha reminding Maria that she needed to hurry up.
"I'm leaking out here, Maria," Widow called, doing what could only be described as a potty dance.
Maybe it was her imagination, but Kamala couldn't help feeling as though the discovery of Shuri's turtlehead had made her own log inch out even further into her underwear, threatening more than ever to make an entrance onto the floor if she wasn't careful. But here, surrounded by her poop-coated idol, her closest friend in the building, the girlfriend of a Norse God and a supremely intimidating superspy, she couldn't afford to think like that. So instead, she turned her mind to how the others back at the party might be faring.
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If Pepper had been able to concentrate on anything other than the horrible feeling in her stomach, she might have realised that things weren't adding up. She may have noticed that none of the men in the room seemed to be feeling anything strange at all, that only women were lined up outside the bathroom and looking pained on the dancefloor. She may even have considered that the party was just a few hours old, and that food poisoning takes around six to kick in. Instead, though, all she was thinking was I have to shit. What's more, nobody who she didn't already know was desperate even seemed to notice there was something up. Half of the party seemed to be going on as normal, like nothing was wrong at all. So all that was left for Pepper to do was hope beyond hope that she could keep the contents of her bowels inside.
That was much easier said than done. More than a few times, she had considered heading back to the line and joining at the back while there was still time, but her better judgement told her that the hostess had a duty to stay with her guests as much as possible. Besides, what good would being in line do? To make matters worse, she'd been hearing some stories from Tony- something about Peggy Carter having diarrhoea on the carpet and some robots trying to wipe it off. It sounded crazy, but nothing was unbelievable tonight. Even though Pepper had never had much of a domestic instinct, a big part of her wanted to head over there just to see how bad the stain was. The walk really didn't sound appealing with the pressure in her butt.
Pepper's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a commotion on the other side of the room. People were chattering, gathering, all moving towards one place. Needing to know what was going on, Pepper pushed forwards, through the crowd. Drinks were being spilled as everyone flocked to the source of the attention. Squeezing between Scott Lang and Clint Barton, she finally emerged at the edge of a semicircle, gathered helplessly around the main attraction.
There, backed up against the wall, stood Melinda May. The first thing Pepper saw was May's anguished face, scrunched up in pain. May was one of the strongest people S.H.I.E.L.D. had, but here she looked close to tears. The second thing Pepper saw was the puddle on the floor. Even in the dim lighting of the party, the spotless white marble was still in plain sight- not that it was spotless, or even white, anymore. The area around May's heels was pure brown, a smooth, chocolatey colour. It was seeping wider and wider, running through the cracks in the tiles, spreading like wildfire. As she watched, more dribbled from the space between May's frozen thighs and spattered into the puddle with an audible splash. People were having to step back to avoid the liquid poop touching their shoes; someone at the front was almost too slow and leapt away a split second before it reached their feet.
Cowering just behind May was poor Daisy, who didn't seem to know what to do with herself. Nobody could look away from the horror-show happening before their eyes, except to make sure that they weren't in danger of getting her poop on them. Everyone in the room was there, watching in awe- and certainly hearing as a murderously foul fart thundered from her backside. Pepper had seen enough. She couldn't allow the party to keep ogling this woman making a spectacle of herself. Despite the urgency of her own need reaching a painful high point, she knew that she needed to draw attention away. She ducked out and escaped to the space on the other side of the room.
There were two people in the whole place not staring at May shitting herself, and Pepper wasn't surprised to see that they were Okoye and Nakia of Wakanda. The latter grabbed Pepper by the arm and pulled her aside, looking panicked.
"What is happening?" she hissed, and Pepper noticed that she was clutching at her ass with one hand, "something is seriously wrong here".
"I have no idea," Pepper insisted, "it has to have been the food, nothing else makes sense".
"The food that everyone ate, no?" Okoye looked at her coldly- it was a strange contrast, Pepper thought, getting a death-stare from a woman who was clearly dying to take a dump, "so how come only the women are in this state?"
"I don't know- we can't think about that," Pepper stammered. It was true, and they all knew it: they couldn't afford to focus on anything except making it to the bathroom. She stole a glance over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the crowd, which was still fixated on May, who was barely visible on the other side of the room. Another cramp paralysed her; something hot dribbled down the lips of her pussy and dampened her underwear. It was chaos. There was nothing she could do for May. Instead, she grabbed Okoye and Nakia on a wrist each and started walking. The only thing she could control now was how public her trauma would be.
"Where are we going?" Nakia asked, trying not to look at May.
"Somewhere nobody can see that happening to us," Pepper said.
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Nat knew that time was running out. Not just for her, but for everyone in the small cluster waiting impatiently outside the bathroom. Maria was still locked inside, showing no signs of getting any closer to finishing up. As Natasha pressed one ear against the door, she could make out the sounds of poop hitting the toilet water, the hiss of pee and muffled moans of relief from the woman inside.
They weren't the only moans audible from her position, though: Shuri was struggling worse than anyone to keep in control of her body. After Carol had wandered off to clean up with Peggy, the poor girl had only grown more desperate. She'd admitted loudly that she had sharted at least once (which was more information that Natasha needed) and now stood nervously squeezing her cheeks together with both hands, dancing on the spot. Beside her, Kamala seemed just as uncomfortable, but was dealing with it very differently- she'd gone quiet and stood as still as a statue. Her stomach heaved with every breath, and she wasn't even trying to disguise her farts anymore.
Like Kamala, Natasha was unbelievably gassy. It felt like every ten seconds another slipped out, each as warm and stinky as the last. Nobody seemed to mind anymore, and she didn't feel embarrassed in the slightest- whatever it took, that was her motto. And getting that gas out made keeping the solids in just that tiny bit easier. Someone who didn't seem to be finding it at all easy was Jane Foster. She had slid down the wall into a sitting position and now was slumped there, feet flat on the floor, knees whacking together over and over. Every time they opened and closed, Nat was sure she could see a wet spot the size of a golf ball on her jeans.
Technically, Natasha was next in line, but she didn't think that she could bring herself to go before some of the women around her. Shuri and Kamala were barely more than children, for goodness sake- it would be wrong to get relief for herself while they stood outside, suffering and possibly even ruining their underwear. She was Black Widow, after all, supposedly one of the toughest warriors in the world- she could surely control her bowels for just a bit longer. And if she failed, well, at least she'd be safe in the knowledge that someone else had made it because of her selflessness.
So, when the bathroom door finally clicked open and a relieved-looking Maria emerged, Natasha gestured to the two young women.
"You guys can go ahead of me," she said.
"Are you sure?" Kamala asked.
"Yes, it's fine, just be quick. Who's first?"
Shuri and Kamala looked at eachother anxiously. Both desperately wanted to get their butts on the toilet seat as soon as possible, but neither fancied pushing ahead of the other. And yet... Kamala remembered well the feeling of Shuri's log poking out of her tight hole, and understood that the Wakandan girl didn't have much time before the whole thing nestled in her panties.
"Shuri, you go. It's okay".
"No, I couldn't-"
"You have to. I..." Kamala leaned in, knowing that she needed to persuade Shuri, and whispered in her ear, "I felt you sticking out down there a minute ago. Just hurry before it's too late". She saw Shuri's eyes go wide, realising that she had been caught out, and hurried into the bathroom.
"That was brave of you, Kam," Natasha said, nodding in approval, "you sure you can hold it until she's done?"
"No," Kamala said honestly, "but I'd rather poop myself than know I was the reason she did".
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As soon as the bathroom door locked, Shuri's control started to leave her. She could feel her tight, toned cheeks opening up, her taut ring stretching and expanding as the knobbly log inched further and further out of her body. Before Shuri could even take another step, she had to make a snap decision. Up came the dress, down went her red panties. She noticed a faint dirty patch on the inside of the underwear as she slid them around her ankles, but there was no time to worry about that now. All she could think about was that she was in the process of pooping, standing up straight- three feet from the toilet.
"No, fuck, no," she groaned, waddling gracelessly towards the loo, feeling the turd pushing itself out. Just a few more steps and she'd be there, but the fabric around her ankles made walking so much more difficult than it usually was. She had no more than a second to spare- the thickest part of the log was out now, and it had started to pick up pace on the way down. Shuri was standing right in front of the toilet when it happened. After holding in her shit for as long as she possibly could, her bowels had been beaten. The proximity to the toilet was too much for her body to stand. In one smooth motion, the biggest poop she'd ever done slipped out of her ass and landed squarely on the bathroom floor.
Another log immediately lined up to take the place of the first. Powered now by sheer panic, Shuri started to turn so she could sit down. As her hips twisted, the other end gave up too, and pee started spraying from her pussy like a sprinkler. By some miracle, she heard a splash that indicated that the second turd had somehow landed in the toilet. Not willing to waste another second, she sat heavily on the porcelain and gasped in relief, finally emptying herself in earnest into the bowl.
At some point, she looked down between her feet and saw the mess that had been made, saw the thick log on the floor, the shitstains in her nicest panties, the pee spattered on the floor.
Later, I'll clean that up, Shuri promised herself. Later.
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"Oh, no," Kamala Khan moaned, not for the first time that night. It had been almost two minutes since Shuri had made it into the bathroom, and she needed to get out soon. Kamala forced out another huge fart, which was only wetter and louder than her last. Natasha looked at her in concern.
"You okay?" she asked, knowing that the girl was certainly not okay.
"Uh, kinda. You remember when I said I'd be fine if Shuri went first?" Kamala said. Nat nodded. "I was wrong," she confessed.
"Wrong about what?" came a familiar voice. It was difficult for Kamala to describe the mixture of emotions that washed over her as she saw Carol Danvers round the corner and approach the three women left outside the bathroom. Carol was wearing the same top half as before, but her legs bore nothing but a pair of underwear that one could only assume was borrowed from Pepper. On one hand, it was a relief to see her idol back in the room- on the other, Kamala knew she was moments away from an accident, and didn't really want Carol in the audience when that happened. Sure, it was made a little easier by the fact that she'd seen Carol mess just minutes ago, but still- how humiliating.
"She let Shuri in ahead of her," Natasha explained, filling Carol in.
"And now I can't hold it in any longer," Kamala added. Only once she said it out loud did she realise how true it was. She was in the final seconds now, her stomach cramping more viciously than ever, starting to force that enormous log of hers out. Even as she spoke she felt it coming. There was nothing she could do to stop the shit from hitting the fan- or, in this case, her underwear.
Carol took one look at the girl and understood exactly how much trouble she was in. She stepped closer to Kamala and put a hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay, kid, I couldn't hold it either. There's nothing to be ashamed of if you don't make it".
Kamala's lips quivered like a child's. "Really?" she said slowly.
"Of course, don't worry about it. Loads of girls are going home in ruined panties tonight. I don't think any less of you for it".
"That's good, Captain. That's real good," Kamala whispered.
"Why?"
"Because I'm pooping in my pants right now".
And she was. Ms Marvel was strong, but the desperate urge to take a dump had finally grown stronger. It had taken her over, battled and bruised her broken bowels and won. Now there was no way to hide it, no way to fight anymore. All at once, an incredible log stretched out her ass and filled her tight panties. If she hadn't been a polymorph, the sheer width of the thing would surely have done her hole damage. Instead, in front of the person she respected most in the world, the one thing that was always meant to go in the toilet was ending up in her panties. "I can't stop it," she choked, feeling tears welling up. Carol did something then that took everyone by surprise: she stepped forward and took Kamala in her arms, even as the poor girl was still relieving herself into her clothes. Behind Kamala, Jane Foster was gaping in awe at the size of the bulge that was tenting out from Kamala's butt- she'd never seen a poop anywhere near that big, and it was still growing.
Eventually, blissfully, it broke away. Kamala buried her face in Carol's shoulder, sobbing gently, the earthy odour of shit hanging in the room.
"Are you done?" Carol asked, not unkindly.
"Yeah," Kamala managed between sobs, "I only ever do one bit, and it's all out". There was no going back now- Kamala Khan had just messed herself badly. But Carol knew exactly how it felt. She put an arm around the young woman's shoulder and began to walk her gently towards the other end of the corridor.
"It's okay, hun, we all have accidents sometimes. Come with me- we'll get you cleaned up".
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Even as Pepper yanked Nakia and Okoye into her office at the back of the mansion, she was acutely aware that she probably wasn't going to leave the room with clean underwear. It was hard to say what was worse: her bladder or her bowels. Pepper's head was spinning, asking herself the same question over and over again: how is this possible?
But no answer came and now, here she stood, desperately waiting for the inevitable. As long as there was still a slim chance that she would make it out and get to a bathroom on time, she refused to give in- especially not in front of Okoye, who was still holding strong, doing her best to hide any signs that anything was wrong. Pepper leant back against her desk, feeling the hard edges of the wooden surface against her butt. This was a strategy she'd used before throughout her career, on those particularly busy days when she hadn't been able to find the time to visit the bathroom. By pressing her ass against the wood, it was almost as if her cheeks were being squeezed closed, forbidding anything from escaping. Almost.
The trouble with these tactics was that it gave her no assistance on the front, where she was dribbling pee now with an alarming regularity. There was only one thing for it.
"I'm sorry for being so forward, ladies, but I'm going to have to do this," she explained, and grabbed her crotch with one hand. It was beyond embarrassing to be squirming in front of two women she considered her equals while holding her bits like a little girl. Fortunately, that humiliation was abated somewhat by Nakia's reaction. Almost instantly, the Wakandan copied Pepper's movement, burying her palm between her thick thighs and moaning aloud.
"I'm so glad you said that, I didn't want to be the only one," she said. Okoye was looking at them both with a mixture of disapproval and envy.
Right now, Pepper couldn't care less what Okoye thought. Her judgement wasn't welcome at a time like this, when all three women were fighting serious battles with their bodies. Feeling a powerful fart coming on, Pepper leaned forward slightly and raised one cheek to let it out. Red-faced, she fanned the air around her butt in a vague attempt to do something about the smell.
"Pepper, I'm in a lot of trouble," Nakia groaned, bouncing on the spot, "I don't have much longer".
"So go," Okoye said bluntly. The other two women looked at her in amazement. "Just go in your clothes. I can see that it's essentially happening already".
Nakia stared at her compatriot blankly. Deep inside, she knew Okoye was right. She could feel her shit pressurising, ready to escape. It was taking everything she had not to just let her ass erupt like a volcano. She knew that as soon as it started, there would be no stopping it- her bowels felt like a pressure cooker with an insecure lid. As she turned her head to look at Pepper, hoping to ask for some miracle solution, she realised that no words would come. Down there, between her thighs, it was starting.
"I'm having an accident!" she cried out, trying to warn the other women. It was only after the words were out of her mouth that she realised how dumb it sounded, how childish. Too late now, she thought dully. Pepper was shaking her head, lips tight.
"You can't, Nakia, please. If you do then it'll be too much for me,"
"I can't stop it, Pepper-"
"You have to, or I'll lose it too. Seeing people go always makes me need to go, ever since I was a kid," Pepper begged, "please hold on".
Nakia just looked at her with sad, wide eyes, and in that instant Pepper understood that it was over. The beautiful Wakandan lady removed her hands from her crotch in pure resignation- her crotch was already gleaming with the wetness of her first leaks. As Pepper and Okoye watched on in horror, a trickle escaped out of the bottom of that purple dress, running down her left ankle and into her shoe. In the moonlight coming through the window, it was as bright and visible as blood.
"I'm sorry!" Nakia wailed, "it's happening- oh, shit-"
At the instant she said that word, shit, the shit made its inevitable entrance. In the stunned silence of the trio of women, there was no sound that could mask the explosion of wet mess that came. It sounded like a bucket of sewage being tossed over a tarpaulin. It happened all at once, a water balloon popping inside her underwear. If not for that sound, the first Pepper would have known about the accident was the sight of brown slime splattering against her pristine office carpet, turning the sandy fabric a deep, murky shade. Her prediction had come true: the sight of Nakia losing control was setting her own desperation into it's final stage. She had no time to waste if there was any chance she might make it to the toilet. Her head was gone. There was no chance of thinking straight. Without a word, Pepper pushed past Nakia and opened her office door.
It was too late to turn back. Her accident- no, accidents- were starting and all she could do was get to the bathroom as quickly as possible and hope that by some miracle the line was gone. But the second she stepped into the party room, she realised how big a mistake she had made. It had been foolish, so optimistic, to think that she might make it in time. Once her control had abandoned her back in the office she had had a matter of seconds to make it to the bathroom, not minutes as she had prayed. In her hurry, she tripped on the edge of a rug and went sprawling. The noise alerted the crowd, who forgot all about May and turned to their hostess, lying spread-eagled on the ground.
Some of them noticed as early as that moment that something was wrong. A few near the front of the pack might even have spotted the growing brown bulge on the back of Pepper's otherwise spotless jumpsuit, but the woman herself had been stunned by the fall and adrenaline had taken over. That was why it wasn't until Pepper was getting groggily to her feet that she realised what was happening. After half an hour of denial, of squirming and writhing, grabbing and squeezing and praying, Pepper Potts was soiling herself.
She went to run away and found that she couldn't. The solid mass emerging from her pert bottom was like an anchor rooting her in place- or perhaps it was the fear that was freezing her legs. Behind her, the bulge kept expanding, pushing. She felt her panties reach their stretch limit and the poop begin to squish outwards to fit itself in. It crept up her back, around her thighs, between her legs and towards her pussy. Her bladder still ached, but as she came to her senses Pepper became dimly aware that she was pissing too now, unable as ever to poop without peeing. It was this accident that was the most visible to the guests in front of her, cascading down her legs and pooling around her feet. Her feet! Pepper jumped at the thought. These shoes were too expensive to be coated in her own piss. She leapt aside and it struck her that she could move her legs again, now that most of her shit was out there.
A quick look at the crowd was all it took to scare her into action. Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Scott Lang. Countless more she recognised and a few she didn't- a man with long, black hair, a Wakandan friend of Nakia's- but all men. The one that hit her hardest was Peter Parker, cowering at the back of the room, looking mortified for her.
Unable to stand the stares any longer, Pepper turned and fled, using one hand to keep her mess from falling out and hitting the floor.
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There weren't many rooms in the house which would be suitable for changing a teenager with a giant load in her pants, but Tony's study was probably the best thing available. And so that was where Carol took Kamala, leading the tearful girl down the steps with a gentle arm.
"Okay, don't worry, kid. We're gonna clean you up and it'll be like nothing ever happened, right?"
Kamala nodded at this, but she didn't look like she really believed it.
"How much did you do?"
"Just- just one bit," Kamala muttered, clearly mortified to be asked such a graphic question.
"Just one?" Carol glanced down again at the enormous bulge, which looked to her eyes like at least three Carol-sized turds, "are you sure?"
"I'm s-sure. It's always just one," Kamala blushed.
"Okay, well, that shouldn't be too bad. We find a place to dump your log, grab you some clean panties and you'll be as good as new".
It occurred to Kamala then that Carol didn't realise she was still desperate to piss. And why should she? After all, Kamala had been far too shy to tell her idol that she had to go number one. It was bad enough messing herself in front of Carol. Now, it was abundantly clear that Carol needed to know that Kamala was a few moments away from wetting herself. And yet the words just wouldn't come. She couldn't bring herself to tell this gorgeous, strong blonde that she was about to have a second accident. Kamala didn't mind talking about it with someone like Shuri, but around adults like Carol she just felt too shy. Maybe if I just hold it in...
Even as she was thinking it, Kamala knew that it was an incredibly unlikely scenario. In the time it would take to dispose of the shit in her panties, find a clean pair and get back to the bathroom, she would surely lose control. Before she could find the courage to suck it up and tell Carol the truth, though, the woman picked up a discarded cardboard shoebox she had spotted on the floor.
"Here! Perfect. Just empty it out into this, and we stick it in the trash. Nobody will ever notice".
"Are you sure?" Kamala asked dubiously. Using Mr. Stark's boxes as secondary toilets seemed borderline rude, even if the situation was desperate.
"Yeah, why not?"
It was too tempting to pass up. Kamala didn't want to take another step with that heavy load between her legs, especially as she was starting to worry that it might come into contact with her crotch. So she took the shoebox from Carol's outstretched hand and placed it between her legs, squatting down awkwardly.
"You don't have to be here for this," Kamala said. But Carol gave her a look of the most sincere care that she felt suddenly calmer.
"Don't worry about it, Kamala. I know how it feels not to make it".
Kamala peeled off her jeans and watched as the enormous log toppled into the shoebox. It was almost as long as it's container and at least an inch thick. Kamala stood up, pulling up her bottoms, and realised that Carol was staring at the turd.
"Christ, it's a good thing you're so..."
"Stretchy?" Kamala suggested.
"Yeah".
They headed upstairs, closed shoebox in hand. Pepper and Tony's bedroom was on the right- Carol had already been there once before, to find spare panties for herself earlier. As she fished through Pepper's underwear drawer in search of something that would fit Kamala, the young woman stood quietly in the corner, bobbing up and down anxiously. She really had to pee, but didn't want to squirm in front of her hero. She just couldn't admit it now- it was too late. Instead she contented herself with sneaking quick squeezes of her pussy behind Carol's back, crossing one leg over the other every few seconds. The desperate urge to piss had snowballed into a peak since she'd lost her bowel control, and now it was about to be released.
"Kamala?" Carol asked quietly. Kamala froze. It was a tone that reminded her of her mother after she'd caught her daughter doing something bad.
"Yes?" she croaked.
"You know I've been able to see you in this mirror the whole time, right?"
Kamala froze. Her life was over. Her biggest idol had been watching her squirm and dance and grab her vagina like a baby for damn near a minute and she'd had no idea. Carol turned slowly towards Kamala, holding a lacy pair of pink underwear in one hand. She shut the drawer behind her and approached the speechless girl.
"Why didn't you tell me you had to pee so bad?"
"I'm sorry! I was too embarrassed and-" Carol stepped forwards and shushed her with a finger on her lips.
"No time to talk about it, you look like you're about to burst. Just put these in your pocket and let's get downstairs, okay?"
Kamala nodded miserably, taking the spare underwear in her pocket. Wordlessly, both women understood that there was no point in Kamala changing up here- not if she was likely to piss herself before she got to the bathroom.
When they had completed the agonising trip back down the stairs and towards the toilet, all Kamala could do was pray that there would be nobody in the bathroom when she got there. She should've known better than to hope for the best- the door was still locked shut, and now just Natasha and Jane Foster stood outside. Before either had spotted Kamala and Carol, Jane swore loudly. She didn't look good- Thor's girlfriend was doubled over, both hands wedged between her crotch so high up it was surprising they weren't inside of her.
"Fuck, I just leaked again. A lot," Jane moaned, but she quietened down quickly when she saw Kamala approaching. Nat turned- as well as she could with her legs twisted together like a pretzel- and saw a half-naked Carol Danvers and a humiliated Kamala Khan.
"Kamala, hey. You ok?" Nat asked kindly. Kamala wanted to stutter out a response, but couldn't bring herself to tell yet another personal hero the truth. Carol explained for her.
"The poop is in here-" she held up the closed shoebox- "and the kid is bursting to pee".
"Ah," Natasha said, "well, Shuri just said she only needs another few seconds. She should be out-" the door latch clicked open and a mortified, but very relieved, Shuri emerged, "- any second now".
But Kamala hadn't so much as started moving towards the bathroom before Jane Foster sprinted in front of her. For a sweet second, she could see the toilet, glimmering beautifully. She could see relief, picture herself unleashing that pent-up stream onto the porcelain. All that was gone the moment Jane entered the room. She turned briefly to Natasha and Kamala, who felt betrayed beyond belief.
"I'm sorry, ladies, but I'm peeing myself right now," she panted, and shut the door.
"No!" Kamala yelled into the wall. She turned to Carol, tears in her eyes. "That's it. She's screwed me," she whined, backing up towards the wall. "I'm screwed," she repeated, panic rising. She could feel the pee beginning to trickle out at long last- that sighting of the toilet had activated some signal in her brain that had told her bladder to let loose. "Oh, crap, please... it's happening".
In the final seconds before she lost all control, Kamala looked desperately around at the women in the hallway. Shuri, looking like she wanted so badly to help but couldn't. Natasha, grabbing her butt with one hand and her crotch with the other. Carol, watching with sympathetic eyes.
"You almost made it, kid," Carol said quietly, "it's okay".
Kamala began to pee her pants.
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The kitchen had only grown darker by the time Jemma stumbled back in to the emptiness. Just twenty minutes ago she had been here with Peggy, watching her compatriot on the brink of an unstoppable accident. Since then she'd wandered the building, looking for anywhere- anywhere at all- that she could go. But there was nowhere suitable, or at least nowhere quiet enough. She'd come extremely close to having a poo in a shoebox in Tony's study but the sound of footsteps had startled her and she'd dashed off before anyone caught her. Now here she was, back where she'd started, just glad above all else to have somewhere private to squirm and dance.
And that was certainly what she was doing, not that she would have been able to stand still if she tried. There was more than one wet spot on the front of her knickers and she was convinced the back wasn't clean either. As she stood, something that could only be described as a 'double-breach' escaped: a painful fart shot out of her bum, and the force of it caused a spurt of strong-smelling pee to squirt from her vagina and into the crotch of her pants. She had had desperate days before, in the labs or working for S.H.I.E.L.D., but this was a new level- and weeing in a swimming pool wasn't an option this time.
The advantage of blissful privacy was always short-lived, and before very long at all Jemma heard footsteps behind her. She wasn't looking forward to turning around. She could deal with Peggy seeing her in this state, but someone like May or Carol was another matter entirely. It was a huge relief to see the familiar face of Daisy Johnson slipping into the room. It was even more of a relief that she looked just as busting as Jemma. Right hand jammed in her crotch, the woman they sometimes called Quake gave a sheepish grin that barely disguised the discomfort in her eyes.
"How are you holding up?" she asked. In response, Jemma simply turned around and gave the other woman a perfect view of the shining wet patch on her crotch.
"I think this answers your question," Jemma said, gesturing towards the indigo stain across her once light trousers. Daisy managed to remove her own hand for long enough to show Jemma a near-identical patch on her own clothes.
"We match!" she said dryly. The opening exchange had done plenty to break the ice, and now Daisy was moving closer to the centre of the room, closer to Jemma. In other circumstances she would have been deeply embarrassed that this super-powered lady was in a room that undoubtedly stunk of farts, but tonight? Tonight it was going to take a lot more than usual to embarrass Jemma. She'd already received word by text that Pepper and at least two others hadn't made it. She'd watched as poor Peggy went to the toilet in her clothes and watched more closely than she cared to admit as Steve Rogers did his best to clean her up. A few stale farts were nothing compared to that.
"And how about... you know..."
"The other end?" Jemma suggested brightly, and Daisy nodded. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours".
Daisy whirled around obediently, showing off a noticeable bulge on the seat of her pants. Jemma's jaw dropped at the sight of it.
"Is that..." she stammered, struggling to believe that Daisy hadn't shit herself yet.
"Not yet," Daisy breathed, "it's poking out but I'm still hanging on, just. I really need to get to the bathroom right now, though".
"Fat chance of that happening," Jemma muttered, "I popped my head around the corner a minute ago, nobody saw me but the line is still there. Jane and Natasha, and it looks like Kamala's back too. And Carol wasn't wearing any trousers, but let's ignore that for now- ooh!"
The noise that had cut off her sentence was one of serious pain- yet another cramp had seized her, grabbed her hard by the sides and squeezed. Everything but her self-respect was fighting to push her poo out.
"You don't look good, Jem, are you going to be okay?"
"I don't feel good," Jemma felt like she was surely stating the obvious, "It's gonna come out soon at both ends if something miraculous doesn't happen".
"Well... I showed you mine..." Daisy teased.
"Fine! A deal is a deal". Jemma sighed and twisted on the spot. Rising from her smooth bottom, accentuated under tight fabric, was a tiny tent where she was touching cloth. It wasn't as defined as Daisy's, but still enough to suggest that she was also in serious need of a bathroom. It felt good, weirdly, to be sharing these things with Daisy. It made Jemma feel a lot less shy and a lot less alone. At once, an idea struck her and she recklessly decided to roll with it- in for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. "Speaking of bulges..."
She turned back towards Quake and lifted her top. Daisy gasped audibly. The incredible volume of pee that Jemma was barely holding in was causing her stomach to stretch out immensely. If Daisy didn't know, she would have guessed that Jemma was a few months pregnant.
"My God, Jemma, that's huge- it can't be safe walking around like that!" she spluttered. Dancing from side to side, Jemma shook her head.
"Probably not, but I don't have another choice!"
"Pee your pants! That's your other choice. You're gonna get hurt!" Daisy cried. It was a lot harder, Jemma reflected, to take medical advice seriously when it came from a woman who was farting several times a minute.
"I can't just wee myself if I want to be taken seriously by Tony Stark," Jemma pointed out, "And besides, you're one to talk, with a poo the size of a microwave sticking out your bum".
Daisy saw her point; she backed off a little. "You're right, you're right, of course. I just don't want you injuring yourself".
"Nor you, mate," Jemma said.
"I don't think it's just this, either," Daisy said grimly, "I think this bit is acting a plug and there's gonna be some sort of runny explosion once it's out- too much information?" she asked, because Jemma was pulling a face.
"Hmm? Oh, no, share away... it's just- I don't think I can do this much longer,"
"Pee or poop?" Daisy asked.
"Both!"
"Which one more?"
"Probably poo," Jemma admitted after some thought. She was eyeing up the sink again, the one she and Peggy had playfully suggested using earlier- only this time it wasn't a joke. She would do anything to avoid messing herself. Daisy had followed her gaze- she was far too smart not to figure out what was happening.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Daisy asked slowly.
"It might be the only way..."
"No, I agree," she sighed, "I'm not happy about it but we're out of options here".
Jemma looked longingly at the shimmering silver sink. Was she seriously considering going to the loo in it? A churning in her stomach gave her the answer- yes, yes she was, because that was a feeling she'd felt before. It was a signal that meant she had no more than a couple of minutes to get to the bathroom before, ready or not, she would go to the bathroom. But there was still something holding her back, one last bit of inhibition. Maybe if she could see someone else do it first, she wouldn't be so self-concious.
"You go first," she said decisively.
"Are you sure?" Daisy said, sounding secretly grateful but not wanting to be too eager, "I think I can hold it for another minute or so if you want to go first".
"Just go, I promise I don't mind," Jemma insisted.
"Ok, thank fuck you said that," Daisy moaned, moving towards the sink and already wrestling with her buttons, "because I was lying about being able to hold it".
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Jane couldn't even hang on long enough to get the door locked. The second she was safely out of sight of the other women, her bladder simply gave up. She didn't know whether it was the proximity to the toilet that had done it, or the knowledge that nobody could see her anymore, or perhaps her long-suffering muscles had finally had enough. Whatever the reason, her jeans were already getting a soaking by the time the latch was sealed.
"Fuck, no, not again," she muttered under her breath, wrestling with her zipper. It was warm and slippery, and she didn't need to be a scientist to figure out that the lubricant was her own piss. She had to look at her crotch to try and get the zip down, but Jane really would have preferred to be looking anywhere else in the room. It wasn't a pretty sight.
The wet patch was spreading like wildfire, drenching the fabric around her thighs, knees and ankles easily. She was sure that her butt was taking a similar soaking, By the time the zipper eventually came undone, it was far too late- at least a third of her bladder capacity was currently running down her legs and pooling on the bathroom floor. In one last desperate push to salvage some self-respect, Jane tried her best to clamp off the flow long enough to transition from standing to sitting on the toilet, but it was no good. Her pee had been dying to come out for so long, and now it refused to be stopped, even for a few seconds. Unwilling to waste any more time wetting everything from her toenails to her pubic hair, she aggressively tore down the jeans and spun to sit on the toilet. As predicted, some sprayed out of her suddenly-bare pussy and went everywhere before she could be seated. In that mad flash of panic, Jane saw drops of her own liquid gold on the floor, the walls and the toilet seat. On another day the humiliation would have killed her.
None of that mattered as soon as her bare butt hit the plastic seat. From the moment she finally gave herself permission to let it out, Jane couldn't care less about the tiles; all she cared about was that she was finally able to relieve herself. She'd never been so desperate in her life before, and while she hadn't exactly made it, getting at least some of the pee in the toilet felt like a minor victory. Later, she'd feel terrible about the way she'd cut in front of poor Natasha and Kamala, but now she was concerned about only two things: one was her ruined clothes, and the other was the astonishing feeling of near-orgasmic pleasure she felt from the relief of finally peeing. The sound of her piss hitting the water in the bowl wasn't getting any softer- she still felt mostly full. The room smelt faintly of shit, which she guessed Shuri could explain.
She may not have made it to the bathroom in time, but Jane Foster had managed not to completely embarrass herself in front of the others, and that counted for something.
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Edited August 18, 2020 by Noot
(see edit history) |
Here's the rest of the story! Thanks to @Toasty for kindly commissioning me to finish it! Enjoy!
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Daisy hobbled up to the sink and managed just in time to slide down her bottoms just enough. The turd that stuck precariously from her butt teetered and came dangerously close to breaking off into her panties as she got them off. She couldn’t care less that Jemma could surely see the entirety of her toned ass (not to mention the heavy, solid load turtleheading out). Feeling the last grasp on her self-control slipping, Daisy put both hands on the counter and pushed herself up, spinning in-motion to ensure her tight hole was hovering over the sink.
If she had waited for just a few seconds longer, she wouldn’t have made it. Almost instantly a hosepipe jet of pee started spraying out and into the empty metal sink, bouncing off the surface with a sound like rain on a tin roof. At the other end, her hole started stretching even more until the widest part of her log was out, and then the rest of it rushed forth, accelerating in its escape until it hit the sink and started coiling up beneath her. An insuppressible moan drifted from her mouth, overwhelmed by the relief of letting it all out. It was only slightly marred by a feeling of hot shame and guilt that she was taking a dump in the sink of one of the richest men in the world. The powerful feeling of release was comparable to being drunk, and she barely noticed the impact that her display was having on Jemma.
The English girl was stood a few feet away, shaking with the effort of holding it in. Sweat meant her hair was plastered to her forehead. The smell of her farts was stronger than ever. She couldn’t take her eyes off of Daisy. It was impossible for Jemma to look away from her colleague’s exposed pussy, the crown between her pale spread thighs, which hissed and rushed and sprayed uncontrollably. Behind it a second turd was hanging from between her cheeks, dangling on the verge of breaking off like a snake coming out of a cave behind a waterfall. As she stared, it fell onto the huge pile beneath Daisy’s butt. There was something incredibly strange about seeing that smooth, pure bottom doing something so dirty. The sink was beginning to fill with pee- the plug must’ve been left in! Jemma could see the water level (or was that the wee level?) rising, starting to pick up chunks of poop which floated at the surface. Surely there was no way Daisy could overflow it?
Not that Jemma had much time to contemplate that fact- not if she wanted to avoid an accident of her own. All that she could think about was how badly she needed a poo, and how close it was to just falling out into her knickers.
“Holy shit, Jemma, this feels incredible!” Daisy moaned as she continued to relieve herself.
“Daisy, please hurry,” Jemma pleaded, “I’m pooing myself, I can feel it!”
“I’m sorry, Jem! Try and hold on, I’ll be as quick-“ she paused as a loud fart squelched out of her and hit the mess below- “as quick as I can!”
“How long will you need?” Jemma asked, worry in her eyes.
“How long can you hold it?”
“Like, twenty seconds-“ she moaned, a cramp overwhelming her, “twenty seconds or I’m going to shit myself. How long until you get off there?”
Daisy looked at her, eyes wide. She still had what felt like litres of piss and several logs inside her. She wanted desperately to help Jemma but there was no way she could finish in time.
“Daisy,” Jemma begged, “how long?”
“At least a minute,” Daisy said guiltily.
That did it for Jemma Simmons. Her body simply gave in.
It started with the final exit of the log that had been poking out of her hole for the best part of half an hour and now could be restrained no longer. It slid in seconds from her bum and nestled in her tight panties, feeling hot and sticky and hard all at once. The force of her anus stretching open was enough to put an end to her efforts to clench her urethra tight, too. Pee started seeping through the gaps between her fingers, no matter how hard her fingers were gripping her crotch. Her load felt enormous, extremely solid and far too large to be contained by her panties. Jemma could do nothing to stop it. She simply stood there, still watching Daisy’s half-naked form emptying out of both ends, still emptying out of both ends herself in the messiest way possible. She had held on for so long, but it had been too much. The biggest accident of Jemma Simmons’ life was forming in her underwear and there was nothing she could do.
Daisy was starting to come to her senses, and she realised what had happened. She smelled Jemma’s accident before she looked up and saw it. Immense guilt washed over her.
“Oh, Jemma, I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. Jemma took a step or two closer to the sink, turning just enough to show Daisy that she had, indeed, lost control for good. For her part, Daisy was almost done- she had pushed out her final log, and the pee was coming out now in erratic, forced squirts. She could feel something poking at one cheek of her bum and realised that it was a piece of poop that had floated up. Jemma looked back up at her and sighed, and Daisy was sure she saw the small, scrunched-up effort of pushing out a poop on her face.
“It’s not your fault, mate,” Jemma said, “at least one of us made it”.
“I wouldn’t say you have it worse than me either”.
“How so?”
“Well, you don’t have to figure out how to clean shit out of Tony Stark’s sink,” Daisy said.
—————————————————————————————————
Okoye couldn’t move. She couldn’t think straight. She could hear the sounds of commotion outside, in the main room of the mansion, but was powerless to go see what it was about, let alone do anything to help. Nakia had left her alone in the office, leaving a steaming pile of pee and poop on the sandy carpet behind. Okoye didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want to even smell it, but it couldn’t be helped. The raw, thunderous scent of shit filled the room and her nostrils, leaving her desperation more intense than ever.
There was a raging storm of conflict whirling around Okoye’s mind like a tornado. She was Okoye, one of the strongest warriors in the world, and that reputation didn’t come cheap. It cost a lifetime of dedication to preserving the image. And pooping her pants was not part of the aesthetic she wanted to portray. There had been other times like this, of course there had. Times in Wakanda, mostly, or out in battle, when she hadn’t had the chance to go. The urge became a desperate need quickly, but Okoye couldn’t show it. And when the time had come that she couldn’t hold it any longer she would find the nearest bathroom and let it go, often barely making it in time. Her movements were always huge, solid and stinky. They weren’t the kind of thing she would ever willingly release in front of another human being.
And yet… there was a part of her that wanted to just let it go. After all, she couldn’t walk at that moment in time. She couldn’t make it to the bathroom in this party, no chance. And even if she did, wouldn’t there still be a line? Surely she’d soil herself waiting for the bathroom. No… better to do it here, in a private place where she could be left alone with her shame. It was do dishonourable, so un-Okoye, but she was a woman who knew when a battle could not be won. As she stood like a statue, feeling the first of her typically enormous logs starting to poke out from between toned cheeks, she could confirm that this was a fight she was destined to lose. Better to go out with dignity than try and fail.
Okoye closed her eyes, relaxed her muscles and shit her pants. It didn’t happen gradually or painfully, it just happened: one minute her underwear was empty, the next it was sagging and bulging with the mass of half a dozen big brown logs. They pushed through her, stretching out her tight anus at an almost alarming rate. Some part of her, maybe subconscious or maybe not, had always favoured loose underwear for this reason- tight panties would never contain one of her accidents, should she ever have one. In that moment she was very glad for that decision. The smell was awful, foul, almost animalistic, but she didn’t care.
By the time her poop finally finished coming out, Okoye of Wakanda was exhausted. She lifted one arm and placed the palm flat on the wall, leaning against it for support. That movement caused the mass in her underwear to shift slightly; she felt one solid turd come dangerously close to touching her most private place. It was going to be a nightmare, she realised, getting rid of all this mess.
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The sight of Kamala peeing herself was far too much for Natasha to take. Her limit had been reached, engulfing her in a fiery desperation that simply wouldn’t be held back any longer. She backed away with a whimper, looking around for some sort of exit, some way to get out so she could have her accident in peace. There was no exit. No way out.
At that moment, as if by some miracle, the door clicked open and Jane slipped out of the bathroom. She was red in the face, no doubt overcome with shame from her selfish act of cutting in. But Natasha didn’t care, not right then. All she knew was that the bathroom door had opened and she could finally get some relief.
She didn’t realise until her hand was on the handle that it had opened a few seconds too late. Just as she took that first step into the bathroom, her body froze up, cramps taking over from the stomach all the way to the toes. It was like everything below her boobs was immobilised by the pain of holding it for so long, and now, at last, her brain had taken over and decided to take matters into its own hands. Nat was overwhelmed with the urge to push… and she did. Bending over slightly, the spy finally gave in to her instincts, forcing the hot, heavy shit into her underwear in a manic rush. The dam of her crotch broke, too, as she’d known it would. Pee started gushing down her legs, pooling half on the bathroom floor and half on the corridor carpet.
Natasha was acutely aware of the eyes on her, but none of them seemed able to look away. She couldn’t really blame them; the famous Black Widow pissing and shitting her pants was a sight to see. And still the poop kept coming, forming a tent in the back of her pants, filling the room with just the latest in what had been a long line of terrible smells. Kamala, Carol, Jane… all just watching with stunned expressions, all trying to look like they weren’t staring.
“I was so close,” Natasha groaned, gazing longingly at the toilet just a few feet away while pee kept dribbling down her thighs.
When Pepper came round the corner, holding a firm mass in the back of her underwear in place with one hand, nobody was surprised. She slipped into the bathroom without bothering to close the door, peeled down her knickers just enough and dumped several squashed brown logs into the toilet water with a splash. Nat added her own accident on top of Pepper’s, and Carol dropped Kamala’s long, impossibly thick turd in from the shoebox she had been carrying.
“Well,” Nat said dryly, staring down at the shit of three different women piled together in the bowl, “there’s no way that’s gonna flush”.
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Kamala was feeling something she’d never felt before, as a kid or a young woman. She had to poop again, just a few minutes after losing a load in her underpants. It wasn’t an experience she thought was even possible for her, not something she’d had to deal with in her short life. She’d heard about it, though, the phenomenon of needing to go for a second time after a desperate accident. She supposed it had to be some kind of bowel aftershock. And it was getting more intense quickly.
They were gathered in an upstairs lounge, all thirteen women who had come to the party. Some were in completely different clothes to what they had arrived with, graciously lent out by Pepper, who herself had had to change. A few had just about managed to salvage their own outfits, including Jane Foster. The men were carrying on the party downstairs, as per Pepper’s instructions.
All thirteen women had had a rough night. Few more so, though, than Daisy Johnson and Jemma Simmons. Bruce Banner had walked in on them in the kitchen, one having used their sink as a toilet, one in soiled and stinking clothes. Daisy had needed twenty minutes to completely clean and disinfect the sink. Bruce had been so shocked at the sight that he had dropped his drink, which clattered to the ground and smashed.
Shuri was already back to her usual self. All sense of shame or even mild embarrassment had totally disappeared in no time, and before long she was back to making jokes and teasing Kamala, although Ms Marvel hadn’t quite had the time yet to tell Shuri that she needed to take another dump badly. Shuri may not have been humiliated, but Melinda May certainly had. Apart from Pepper, nobody’s accident had been more public than May, who had been forced to soil herself in front of every man in the room. She was eternally grateful that none of them were here now to remind her.
Okoye had come in from the garden a while later, wearing a new set of clothes and smelling fresh. Nobody dared ask where she’d been or what she’d been doing, but it was reasonable to assume she hadn’t made it. As for Nakia- Tony’s robots were working on getting the stain out of the office carpet at that very moment, and having a little more success than they’d managed outside the bathroom with Peggy’s poop.
Speaking of Peggy, once Steve had finally got most of the caked and drying poop off of her legs, she had slipped away from the others and gone to be alone. No-one had seen her for most of the night, but they’d found her eventually, sitting bottom-half-naked in the room in which they all now gathered.
Thinking of Peggy’s accident, the one that had started the chain reaction which had lead to almost all of them failing to make it to the bathroom in time, made Kamala’s own need to poop suddenly even worse. She cramped up again; beads of sweat were forming slowly on her forehead from the heat inside her body. She realised that there would be no waiting for the bathroom to be cleaned up. She had to go back down there and relieve herself- now.
Kamala got to her feet queasily, having to lean on Shuri briefly for support when she almost stumbled. The Wakandangirl looked up and realised straight away that something was wrong from Kamala’s expression.
“Kam, what’s wrong?”
Every single woman in the room turned and stared. It would have been impossible not to hear her in what had beforehand been a deathly silent bedroom. Kamala stood in the middle of the pack, a frightened rabbit in a herd who thought the treat had passed. She didn’t want to say it. Before tonight she would never have admitted it. It was too degrading, especially in front of Carol. And yet, after what they’d all been through that night, she didn’t see the point in hiding the truth any longer.
“I have to poop again,” she mumbled. It was quiet, but everyone in the room made out the words.
“Oh, honey,” Carol said in a voice that was almost motherly, “how bad?”
“Really bad,” she moaned, feeling something heavy pushing towards her hole. “It can’t wait,” she admitted.
“That’s an aftershock, hun,” Pepper said, going to her with concern, “we have to get you to the bathroom”.
Kamala stumbled towards the landing and in front of the staircase, with Pepper on one side and Carol to her left. They were determined not to let anyone else shit themselves tonight. But then, halfway down the thirteen carpeted steps-
“Guys, it’s too late,” Kamala wailed, shaking her head. Her eyes closed in resignation. “I’m sorry, it’s coming out”.
She knew that the eyes of the women around her were watching her ass as she lost control, but there was nothing to be done about it. With a low crackling noise, the second turd of Kamala’s evening began to grow longer and thicker and coil up in her panties. They weren’t flexible enough to hold the size of the mess- Kamala could feel it squishing and spreading across her buttcheeks. There was no chance of stopping the flow. A dribble of warm pee tricked from her clit and down the lips of her pussy, nestling among the logs between her legs. Frozen, she couldn’t do much but wait to be empty. For the third time that night Kamala Khan had had an accident.
Finally, when the poop was completely out and the stench had overcome the stairwell, Carol lead her off once again to clean up again get changed. Pepper returned to the upstairs room, where ten sullen faces were looking up at her expectantly.
“Did she make it?” Asked Shuri, eyes wide. Pepper paused to think for less than a second, then put on her most persuasive voice and replied.
“Yeah, she made it,” she told them, and she could see that they believed her.
Lying to her guests wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world, but Pepper knew that it was for a greater good.
Kamala’s had a rough night, she told herself. Let’s give her this one.
Yeah, she thought, let’s give her this one.
END |
A Golden Decree
This story was a commission from Foxlover and is set in the same setting (different country) as his Order of the Chamber ladies RP which can be found here:
It is well worth a read, but not necessary to hopefully enjoy this story.
Walking up the muddy path Valorie could feel a light rain starting to fall, its gentle caress landing softly on her pale skin. Looking up at the dark clouds it seemed as if they had been filling the skies for weeks at this point, their drab colour matching the run-down streets she was making her way through. Hard times had fallen on the kingdom Odera, the king Pochard having taken them to war with the surrounding kingdoms three years ago. Despite the wealth of the region, it was a war that everyone knew they could not win.
First went the trade, then the men who left to fight in a futile war until finally it was the king himself how left, dying of natural causes or at least that was the official cause. But now he was gone, the war had swiftly ended without the vanity of a petulant man to force it to continue. The peace accords had taken place over the last few months, the deliberating nations deciding that despite the war Odera should be allowed to continue as a free nation. An uneasy peace between some of the other countries after political or tactical blunders, a peace that was threatening to be shattered if any of the other kings were to stake a claim to their large land.
When she was young Valorie had been told stories by her farther about how Odera was a proud intermediary for many historical peace talks, their country situated at an impasse where most of the other countries shared very little of their borders with each other. Centuries ago it had meant that Odera had been the most wealthy and renowned country, a mix of all cultures, people and trade. If you wanted something you knew you could find it in Griel, the capital and once crowning jewel of the empire. But now it was a totally different story, a mad king and unwinnable war turning even the once opulent streets dingy and covered in a thick layer of grime and oppression. Stepping behind a crumbing stone wall she watched a large wagon pass her and head towards the queens castle in front of her.
The decree had come around early this morning, the queens guard noisily hammering the notice onto the board of her lady’s house. Apparently, the other nations had asked for war reparations as a payment for the loss of their men and destruction of land during the war. Payments the crown could no longer afford due to a lack of trade and a war that lasted three long years, it was no surprise the coffers were empty. As such, it seemed the onus had fallen on the people including her lord and lady.
The package she was currently holding was easily worth more than she had ever seen or would see in her life. A solid gold chamber pot, something that had become a standard through the nation, at least for its higher ups. The old pewter or cast-iron pots melted down long ago and turned into weapons for the war, leaving the poor to go outside and the rich to fashion new ones using the one thing they had at the time, Gold. But now that gold was in demand, even these were being taken away by the Queen as she hoped to tax the lands gold to repay the other countries quickly.
Crossing over the small bridge that connected the castle to the town she avoided making eye contact with the guards she passed. Most of them either angry, tormented after the war or so un-trusted during it, they had been left behind rather than taken as part of the army. Stepping carefully up the cobbled path she saw the wagon that had passed her earlier, currently unloading a number of servant women. The man seemingly setting up a stall and small podium, were they selling them off? She had heard of lords who couldn’t make the payment selling their charges and even children to avoid the accusations of treason that went along with the failure to pay.
Stepping into the servant’s entrance of the castle Valorie made her way up to the main hall, directed by a number of other guards or servants. A line of other maids and servants currently handing over similarly flashy chamber pots, the crown seemingly collecting them from all over their land. Waiting patiently in line she finally made it to the front, greeted by a old man and a large leather book.
“Name” he said harshly.
“Lady Emily Saunders of Conningham” She announced the name of her employer with pride, she had served her for years and it had been an honour to be trusted with this task.
“Right” He said taking a note of her name in the book and scribbling something else.
“I also have a note from her she said to give to you.” Valorie said, handing over the sealed letter.
Looking up for the first time the man squinted slightly at her, reaching out a rake of a hand and carefully taking the note. Sliding his finger through the seal he began to read for a few moments, nodding and then looking at her for a few seconds.
“Guards, take her to the auction” The man said, the letter flapping in his hand as two large men came towards them.
“Wait, there has to be a mistake!” Valorie cried, how could her lady do this to her. She had never done anything to dishonour her, why would she do this too her.
“No mistake, Next!” He said unemotionally as she was led away.
What could have happened, why had she given her up? Valorie had been surprised to be the one to receive this order, with many of the older servants far more trusted than her. Yet she had been the one to carry her life’s worth of gold to the castle, but the sullen looks from her friends suddenly making sense. They must have known she wasn’t coming back.
Leaving through the front gate the sounds of the auction met her ears.
“14 gold!” a cry came through the crowd.
“ 14 gold and 3 silver!” another voice beat the previous offer.
“Any more for any more?” The auctioneer asked as Valorie was swiftly pushed into line with the others.
“Sold” The Auctioneer said as the tall brunette on stage was replaced by a slightly older woman, her long blonde hair now containing the occasional wisp of grey. Despite this, her face didn’t show the same signs of time that her hair did, making it difficult to tell her true age.
“Shall we start with 8 Gold, good seamstress and chamber lady”
“Aye, we need one of those. 8 Gold” A man shouted from the crowd and with no opposition she was quickly sold.
Three more women went up one after another, fetching anything from 5 to 15 gold depending on skills and age. Valorie was starting to wonder about how much she was worth, what would happen if no one wanted her. Would she be able to return home or would she end up being dragged around the country until someone paid the minimum price for her.
“Up next we have…”
“40 Gold!” a man shouted before the auctioneer could finish, a hushed tone filling the crowed as they turned to look at the rich man.
But looking up at the stage Valorie couldn’t blame him, the woman standing there was truly breath-taking. Her supple porcelain skin completely unblemished by time as she stood there with poise more akin to the lady of a manor than a servant. Her emerald eyes piercing yes kind, the vivid colour making even her drab brown clothing somehow look more affluent than they would have been on any one else.
“As you say sir, 40 gold” The Auctioneer said, bowing slightly to the nobleman and not waiting for anyone to challenge him.
“Next up we have…”
Valorie felt her arm being pulled as she was man handled towards the stage, stumbling slightly she was suddenly in front of the small audience. The members of it looking her over, judging her, trying to discern her worth.
“What skills do you have” The man whispered to her.
“I…I don’t know, im just a serving girl” she whimpered, a tear rolling down her face as she realised must have been exactly why she had been thrown out, she had no skills and soon she would have no home or friends.
The crowd remained silent, a few of them rubbing their chins as if they were thinking about it but not a single bid came in.
“Come on ladies and Gentlemen, she is young and fit. Who will give me 5 Gold?” The auctioneer asked again.
Still more silence, did no one want her.
“4 Gold then?” The seller lowered the price.
“I’ll take her for 3 gold, a middle-aged woman held up her hand”
Finally a bid! Valorie didn’t want to be sold, but at least it was better than the thought that no one wanted her, even as a servant.
“Sold” The man said, clapping his hands together and not waiting for any other bids, or maybe for her to reevaluate the price.
Walking off the stage she was still in a little bit of a daze, the last 15 minutes a blur to her as she joined the group that had been successfully sold.
A few minutes later Valorie along with a group of around 12 others were ushered back into the castle, having seemingly being bought by nobles that resided within it. A small comfort that at at least she wouldn’t get taken away to some far away land for a noble she didn’t know. Even though she hadn’t been in the castle often she at least knew the town, the traders and many of the other servants she would be working with.
Taken through the castle hallways they were led down a set of stone stairs into the basement, approaching a large wooden door they could hear raised voices on the other side of it.
“This is absurd, how can this be the only option”
“Im sorry M’Lady, it’s the Queens orders. Chamber ladies are becoming more common across the lands, its almost acceptable for most places to have one or two."
“Acceptable! I can assure you it is not acceptable for nobility to release themselves into a servant, or at least it is not in this castle!” The voice responded, getting louder as the conversation heated up.
“Im sorry M’Lady I meant nothing by it, buts like I said... it's the Queens orders.”
“Well, im going to have to go and speak to my daughter then!”
As the guard escorting them opened the door it revealed a tall room, possibly a store room of some kind that had been converted into what looked a like a dorm room. A number of beds crammed along the walls of the room, an old table in the centre and surrounded by mismatched chairs.
Stood next to the table were a pair of women of whom the voices belonged, one that Valorie recognised instantly as the Queen mother. She had been married to the king that had started the war, but after one too many protests had been confined to the caste, or at least those were the rumours that she had overheard spoken in hushed tones. Despite being next in line she had abdicated the throne to her daughter, the only child she had managed to conceive with her far more elderly husband.
“You must be the new servants, line up over there please” The queens mother said, her voice far more calm and poised now.
Moving over Valorie was surprised to find herself stood next to the Black haired beauty from before, why would a noble spend 40 Gold on a woman like her only to put her with the rest of them. Walking to the front of the line the Queens mother gave the first girl the once over, a short blonde woman who seemed as nervous as he felt.
“Name and previous role” The queens mother ordered, making the blonde servant stand to attention.
“Charlotte…um servant…”
Nodding the Queen went to the next in line, another blonde but much bulkier. Her arms and legs clearly strong for years of hard work.
“Name and role”
“Rebecca, farm hand.” An answer that apparently surprised a few of those in the room. A few years ago having a woman as a farm hand would have been unheard of, but with the men out to fight many had picked up jobs otherwise reserved for them. Thinking for a moment, the Queens mother nodded to herself, raising a finger as if she had gotten an idea. “Stables” she said, pointing to the woman and then to a guard in the corner who walked over and took her presumably to the stables.
Next in line was the tall black-haired woman next to Valorie. Even the Queens mother seemed to do a double take, a slight frown on her face as she too wondered why she was here.
“Name and role”
“Morgana, servant your grace” she said, gracefully curtsying.
“Seems one of you has some understanding of proper etiquette” The Queens mother said, a slight smile on her face.
“Next” she said, now standing imposingly In front of Valorie who couldn't help but swallow deeply.
“Valorie, servant your grace” she said, awkwardly curtsying and doing her best not to fall over. Her attempt getting a smile and a shake of a head from the woman in front of her.
“Well at least you learn quickly.”
Soon the line had been inspected, with two sent to the kitchens and the slightly older seamstress from before sent to the tailors. That left just 9 of them stood there, the women in front of them discussing something in hushed tones.
“Ok ladies, I will leave you in the capable hands on Caroline, a trusted advisory.” The queen mother said, turning and leaving the room escorted by a couple of heavily armed guards.
“Alright then, im Caroline and I am the head of your servants quarters” Said the middle aged brunette talking to them all. Her slightly larger frame far curvier than most of them in line, but the few extra pounds from the occasional castle feast only increasing her womanly charm and giving her a motherly figure.
“Now then, given the current circumstances you have all been selected as Chamber ladies. At least for the time being, it is possible your roles will change in time as other…options…become available to the nobles.”
“Im sorry M’am what is a chamber lady?”, one of the women asked to Valorie’s right. It was something she had been wondering, it was not a service she had heard about before but many of those in the auction had said they were one. Maybe it was something only the highest of nobles had around them?
“I can understand that, these are new times and this is a new role for us here. However, Chamber ladies have a proud tradition in other countries and even cities in our own nation. As for what we do, we offer relief to the nobles as and when they need it. Due to the current shortage of chamber pots we are currently experiencing, this is the new method that has been chosen to maintain the poise and dignity of noble folk.” Caroline finished, walking over to the nearest bed and picking up a strange tube.
“It is your duty to learn how to use one of these and to aid the nobles in its use. That should be no problem for any of you as it is quite simple, you insert one end into yourself and the noble inserts it into themselves." Reaching under her clothes it seemed she was demonstrating the strange procedure to them, even though they couldn't see what she was doing. " At which point it allows the transfer of fluids from one persons bladder to the others bladder. In this way it relieves the noble without them having to expose themselves outside where anyone could see them.”
A few nervous glances went around the group, although much to Valorie’s surprise it seemed that many of the group were expecting this, maybe it wasn’t as strange as she thought it was.
"Ordinarily we would allow you time to train yourselves to hold longer, but the sudden end to the war and the Queens decree have meant we do not have that luxury. To make matters worse there is a banquet in the castle tonight and you will all be in service throughout the event. As a starter I would recommend you empty yourselves fully before hand and limit drinks throughout."
"But now, just to check none of you will embarrass the nobility on your first day we are going to conduct a test.” Caroline finished, opening the door opposite the one they had come in from, revealing a line of fidgeting women. “The first 9 please” she commanded, those nearest the door shuffling into the room and standing opposite the new recruits. The group moving along until Valorie found herself staring at a much larger woman, her heavy set frame and thick neck supporting a toothy grin, the woman seemingly looking down on her with some feeling of glee.
“I hope your ready” she said quietly patting her bladder, the woman’s deep and ominous tone making Valorie shiver slightly. “I haven’t gone since last night” she seemed to boast.
“Alright Magnus, why don’t we swap you like this. Lets at least give the little girl a chance.” Caroline said, appearing over the large woman’s shoulder. Making the woman apparently called Magnus exchange places with the woman to her right and being replaced thankfully by someone built much more like herself. The young woman obviously squirming where she stood, her bladder apparently full want demanding her attention.
“Right then, each of these women was given three glasses of wine at breakfast and have been waiting to relieve themselves. Your job is to take three of them without making a mess on the floor” Caroline commanded.
Three! How could she take in 3 peoples bladders! Valorie worried, a sentiment shared by those not already accustom to this. Surely no one could do that, people only had one bladder for a reason right?
“Here you go” a tube was hastily pushed into Valories hand by the woman opposite, a look of anguish on her face signalling she was seconds from exploding where she stood.
It took a few moments to insert it correctly, a uncomfortable pressure making her wince for a moment. But as soon as it was in, it was hard to tell it was even in there really.
“Ok girls, you can go” Caroline said as a chorus of gasps filled the room, the nine wine filled women relaxing their muscles and their bladders emptying themselves. The sensation that followed was far stranger than anything Valorie had expected, a warm heat that was in a strange way comforting was suddenly building inside her from the bottom up. Her already half full bladder becoming heavier as the blushing woman continued to piss into her bladder.
After 20 seconds the woman stopped peeing, her body looking far more relaxed now. Despite an increase in pressure and the strange sensation, Valorie didn’t feel too much worse for it. The fullness in her bladder definitely noticeable now though, but maybe she could take three loads after all.
Beside her she watched as Magnus’s piss roared through the clear tubing and into Morgarna, the poised woman standing rigidly but her face looking calm. Even as the other 8 women ran dry, the large woman continued filling the black haired woman. The two of them staring into each others eyes, Morgarna’s emerald jem's unblinking as the strangers seemed almost to view each other as an adversarial. After 50 seconds the stream ended, with Magnus clearly grimacing as she tried to force out every drop of liquid from inside her. But Morgana didn’t break, in fact out of all of the new hires she somehow looked the most relaxed.
“Next” Caroline shouted, the line of relieved looking servants disappearing to go back to their jobs, replaced by 9 more desperate looking women.
Connecting up the next woman Valorie was quickly getting the hang of it, the process was simple despite its intimate nature. Standing with her feet slightly apart she felt her bladder begin to fill once again, the weight of the liquid inside her increasing substantially. Where as last time the room had been filled with a number of sighs of relief, this time the room was quickly filled with the low grunts and complaints of many of the women being filled. Their bladders filling faster and containing more than many of them had ever experienced before.
“I…I…..I” a small woman next to Valorie started to say something, her body shaking slightly as her bladder bulged out of her slim body. Moments later her torso convulsed, doubling over as the woman opposite grunted, the stream apparently changing direction and filling her instead,
“Stop woman, you’re the chamber lady!” The woman commanded but it was no use, the new recruit unable to control herself.
Grunting again the woman opposite pulled the device from herself, having refilled her bladder urine began to splash on the ground underneath her as she lost control. A second stream of pee still shooting out of the end of the tubing as the woman next to Valorie continued to empty herself through it. An acrid smelling puddle quickly spreading across the floor as many of those around her pressed their legs tighter together, the splashing noises of the two streams making them squirm even more.
The sight, sound, smell or combination there of was clearly too much for another of them, further down the line of women another seem to burst. Pee racing down her legs as her bladder lost control, the contents of it spilling onto the ground as those around her carefully stepped back.
“Next” shouted Caroline, clearly not phased or just used to the display of the three women wetting themselves a few feet from her.
9 more women entered, 7 being hooked up and two standing slightly awkwardly next to the still peeing women. The desperation on their faces clear as they danced on the spot, unsure of what to do.
As the third woman let loose a torrent into her bladder Valorie couldn’t help but grunt slightly, her inflated bladder being pushed hard by the new intake. Resting a hand on it through her clothes she could feel it almost vibrating as the new piss thundered into it at some speed. The uncomfortable woman opposite her clearly desperate and in much need of this relief. Within her the pressure was increasing by the second, but somehow she made it. The woman opposite her disconnecting herself and as the others finished she followed them out. The two desperate maids that had gone unrelieved looking around worried, but joining the others despite their bladders still being full from being forced to down glasses of wine with their breakfast.
“You and you” Caroline pointed angrily at the two women now standing in their wet clothes. “You failed, do you know what you could have caused if you did that in the presence of some of the guests tonight. Get out of my sight, Ill decide what to do with you later.”
The two women looked at each other sheepishly before trudging out of the room leaving a trail of drops and wet footprints.
“As for the rest of you, line up again please and this time with your legs a shoulder width apart.”
That last command would be difficult, most of them currently had their legs pressed tightly against each other, the need to urinate stronger than they could ever remember. Valorie was no different, but she had always done her best to control such urges, making sure to finish her chores before relieving herself. So being a bit desperate was nothing new, even though this just felt totally different. Taking a deep breath she took a step forwards to join the just as confident Morgana and a blonde woman to her right that she had missed the name of during the queen mothers questioning.
“I said shoulder width apart” Caroline chastised a young girl near the end of the line. Her hands buried deep in her crotch and legs crossed where she was stood. She had taken the three loads, but was clearly at her wits end.
“I cant” the poor girl sobbed.
“Can’t or wont?” Caroline said accusingly, her stern tone making the woman step forward her legs slightly apart.
“Shoulder width” Their apparent task master commanded, tapping the inside of the woman's legs who responded by widening her stance.
Almost as soon as she had moved them she let out a little whimper, moments before a waterfall began to fall between her slim legs. A river of other peoples pee slowly escaping the sobbing woman, her face now covered by her hands as she hid from the shame of being unable to control herself.
Shaking her head Caroline ignored her, walking back to the centre of the remaining 6.
“Now then, for the rest of you who plan on passing this test, it is important to keep your poise at all times unlike your friend here. You are no longer mere servants but chamber ladies, you will serve the most important and wealthy members of the crown and their visitors. As such, you much behave with a certain level of decorum, not like a small child.”
Beginning to pace up and down the line Caroline continued, the sense of pride she had about the job easy to hear in her tone.
“As a chamber lady your duty is to serve, regardless of your own needs. Your own needs must go silent and unnoticed by those you serve and those around them, it is a discrete service we offer. That goes for being filled too, there may come a time and place where you are required to in public and it is your responsibility to be able to perform your duty without others noticing, for the sake of your nobles whose appearance can be the difference between a successful meeting or not. You can not jeopardise the future of this country because you are unable to help or hold it” Caroline said, looking at the woman who had finally finished making a mess on the floor with a level of disdain.
Now then those of you who are new to this may think this is a little strange, perhaps even not worth it. But our position is a vital one, we help the lords and ladies maintain their dignity and in return we get to sit at some of the most important tables anywhere in the land. It is an honour and a privilege to be a chamber lady, don’t forget that.”
As she listened to her Caroline's stirring speech Valorie hadn’t thought about it before, but maybe she was right. Tonight she would be at a party in the same castle as the queen and all of the nobles. She wouldn’t have ever been allowed to see, let alone attend the event if she hadn’t been sold this morning.
“Now I will give you your patrons” Caroline said, walking up and down the row a few times as if gauging their ability to remain poised. Valorie had to admit it was getting harder, with each second that passed the urge to shut her legs was getting stronger.
“You, you and you” She pointed to three women, you will serve the visiting nobles between you.
Stepping in front of Valorie, Caroline seemed to think for a moment. Looking between her and Morgana, before pointing at her. “Queen”.
Valories eyes went wide, she would be serving the Queen! Not 30 minutes earlier she had been told she had no skills and now she was a servant of the most important and powerful woman in all the land. This had to be a mistake, what if she couldn’t handle it.
“Queens guest” Caroline said, her finger moving to Morgana.
Walking over to the final woman she paused for a moment “Lord and lady wellington. They will be in attendance together are you going to able to handle that.”
“Yes mam, I can handle anything. Give me a whole group if you want, this bladder doesn’t break” The stout large breasted blonde said confidently.
“Name?” Caroline asked.
“Laura”
“Well Laura, this is no place for Ego’s. If we do our job correctly, no one will even notice. Remember that”
Caroline’s sentence making the woman she was reprimanding blush deeply and Valorie could tell she was biting her tongue not to say something else.
“And you, wet one. Kitchen server” She said with a wave of her hand, not even looking in her direction.
“Now im sure you all need to relieve yourselves and remember to go again before you attended the party. It starts at 6pm but I would advise you to check in on your Patrons beforehand if you can. Maybe suggest they empty themselves before the party too so you can release it for them with the rest of the servants before it begins."
Pausing for a moment she turned to look at them all, her face stern and commanding "Remember, you are the key to our nobles remaining poised and respected, I wont have you degrading our country.”
With that their leader left through the door and the guards indicated they should exit the opposite way.
What a morning it had been, as she walked up the road this morning, Valorie could never have imagined how her life would have changed.
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Thanks for reading, there was a lot of set up in this chapter but I hope it was enjoyable.
This is part 1 of 3, more to come soon. |
Chapter 2: The Queens Guest
Leaving hastily through the door they had all come through earlier Valorie followed the others, hoping they would show her to where she could relieve herself. Heaving open a large wooden door, the first woman led them out a side door to the castle and into a small courtyard that backed onto the river. Rushing out to nearby bushs or whatever cover they could find the group of desperate women began pulling and bunching up their clothes as one by one heavy streams began to fall onto the dirt beneath them.
Sighing with relief Valorie felt the weight and stress of the last hour leave her, but looking up she blushed deeply after realising what was happening. All around here were her new colleagues, pissing freely where anyone could see them. Well all except one, as she looked around the women she was suddenly aware that Morgana had not followed them, had she found somewhere more private to relieve herself? The raven haired woman certainly seemed to know her way around a castle, while her quiet confidence indicated she was use to this sort of thing. After a few moments of blissful relief the group recollected their thoughts, moving back into the room that was to be their quarters for the time being. Entering the room they found Morgana tidying up one of the beds that she had apparently claimed as her own.
“Hey, did you not follow us? If you need to go, I can show you where you can relieve yourself” Valorie said walking over to her and choosing the bed one along from hers. Despite not having spoken to her, she seemed like a nice person and could hopefully show her the ropes of how to behave now she was around royalty.
“That’s kind of you but I’m ok.” The black-haired woman said calmly.
“Really, even after all that?” Valorie asked. While she too had survived the trial, she was amazed by how un-phased her new friend was.
“She is just showing off, I best you’re dying to go. Your fake composure can’t fool me” Came a goading remark from Laura, the same woman Caroline had talked too earlier about her idle boasting.
Turning to look at the woman calling her out Morgana shrugged, “I mean I’m not trying to fool anyone, I admit I need to pee, but our job is to hold it while remaining composed. All I’m doing is exactly that, if you fail to do it in private how can you pretend to do it in the presence of our Patrons.” She finished, fluffing up the chicken feather pillows they had been given.
“Yeah, well I can hold twice the number of people as any of you.” Laura said as she aggressively pointed at each of them.
“I don’t think this is a contest” Another of the woman interrupted, clearly annoyed by the childish boasting.
“Which is a good thing for you, whatever your name is.” Laura replied callously, her disdain for them clearly not just limited to Morgana.
“Well, its nice to see you were too busy boasting to learn our names” the new speaker stepping forwards, her appearance slightly older than the rest of them with a body that seemed more fit for motherhood than servitude. But the extra few years of experience clearly gave her enough confidence to call out the younger womans claims, unlike Valorie or many of the others. Valorie for her part wasn’t sure what to do. She hated confrontation but at the same time she didn’t want to put herself in the middle of this by trying to mediate.
“Yeah, like you know theirs” Laura said, waving her hand around the room as the others paused to watch the heated debate.
“Well I am Charlotte, that’s Macey, Anna, Valorie and you seem to already have it out for Morgana.” The new blonde woman answered back.
“Whatever” Laura said, turning quickly and ignoring the rest of them, her long blonde hair pushed over her shoulder. A quiet silence falling on the group as the argument subsided and they began to inspect their new surroundings.
“Are you ok, you look a little nervous?” Morgana asked Valorie, noticing the young woman biting her thumb nail. It was a habit she had tried to curb, but given everything that happened today she hadn’t even noticed herself doing it.
“I’m just a little nervous, I’ve not had to serve a noble before.” She admitted timidly, looking at something on the floor and trying to avoid the other woman's gaze.
“I can give you some pointers if you want?”
“That would be great” Valorie said, the suggestion cheering her up instantly as she looked up. When she had thought about learning from her, she had expected to do it by watching what she did and copying. But this would be far better and hopefully bring her up to speed before the party tonight.
“Mind if I join, and me!” Came another couple of voices from beside them, their desire to learn also making Valorie realise that she wasn’t the only one new to this, they were all in this together.
Soon all of them except Laura were seated around a table in the kitchen, Morgana going over the basics of etiquette. Some of them knew certain aspects but they were all clearly missing a part of their education in these matters, their previous lords or ladies not requiring them to be this formal.
“And finally, that is the second dessert spoon” She said, indicating to the spoon three to the left and above the 3rd and 4th forks. Putting it down she indicated to the glass In front of her. “Glasses will always be filled from the right, which likely means from between you and your patron. Now, the staff here are responsible for filling them and making sure no one gets an empty glass, but we can help by making sure we are not in the way. Ideally if we are good at our job we will form part of a seamless operation to make sure that no one notices us or the other servants do our job”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself” Came a familiar voice from behind the group.
Turning around in their seats they were all surprised to see the Queens mother
“Lady Plover” Morgana said standing hastily and curtsying, something the others did quickly and to the humour of the woman they were now facing.
“Please, call me Lady Meredith. The title and name of Plover now falls to my daughter the Queen. Don’t let me interrupt...but good work” She finished, nodding approvingly before walking away.
Once out of sight the group let out a collectively held breath, sitting down they couldn’t help but laugh about it.
“I cant say this enough but thank you so much Morgana, you don’t know how much more relaxed this has made me about the whole thing.” Valorie said earnestly.
“Same here. I had no idea about any of this stuff” Anna said.
“Me neither, this really was a life saver” Macey added, almost laughing at the sheer difference from what she was use too at the farmstead she had been sold from. There were some meals where she didn’t even eat with cutlery, never mind 5 sets of it.
Smiling sweetly Morgana simply nodded, unsure of what to say. She had come from a castle run by an elderly couple that liked to pretend they were high up in the feudal order. A large part of that was getting their servants to treat them like royalty, as such they had accidentally prepared her for this new role. But at the same time, she and the other servants there hadn’t shared much in the way of emotional intimacy. Something that was putting her slightly at odds with these new women who seemed to look at her more like a friend, despite only meeting for the first time today.
“Alright ladies, stop sitting around here and go find your patrons. The preparations for the party are about to start.” Came another familiar voice, Caroline was seemingly never too far away. “But put all this back where you found it first”.
Walking back through the castle the group had separated, going to find those that they would be serving in the afternoon. But thankfully for Valorie Morgana was still with her, assigned to the queen and queens guests meant she at least had one friend with her.
Stopping at the large wooden doors to the queens room they knocked, only entering after the queen had said too. The ornate room was immaculately clean, two maids currently finishing up. The linen on the bed the whitest Valorie had ever seen and invitingly soft looking. Standing a few feet from the queen who was currently having her long platinum blonde hair brushed by a servant as they both curtsied before her.
“And who might you both be?” The queen asked, peering suspiciously at them. The faintest of crows feet the only betraying signs of an ageing face, her youthful skin protected from the years of hard work most women had faced in recent times.
“I am Valorie your grace, your new chamber lady.” She said curtsying again.
“Morgana your Grace, I will be serving as chamber lady to your guest”
“Mmm yes now I remember. Very well, but you cant represent me looking like that. Isabelle!” the queen cried loudly, summoning a short woman who ran in from the other room.
“Yes your grace” She said curtsying a little awkwardly as she crossed the boundaries of the two rooms.
“Find these ladies something more suitable to wear for tonight. They will be accompanying me and as such need to stop looking so much like peasants”
“Yes your grace” Isabelle replied nodding her head for the two of them to follow. Valorie took a step away before remembering one of the many things Morgana had said, hastily turning and curtsying yet again next to her friend who was doing the same.
Led through a set of double doors still inside the many rooms that the Queen had as her private wing, the three of emerged into the biggest dressing room that any of them had seen. All around them were manikins and shelves filled with ornate clothing and accessories. Although even in this room it seemed a number of items were missing, probably the ones that may have been sold to further bring in money for the kingdom.
“Right then, please strip and stand up straight. I will find something to fit you both.” Isabel said, looking them over and trying to guess their measurements.
Moments later the doors flew open and a gaggle of other servants entered. Each carrying something with them, from hair brushes to corsets and some things she had no idea what they were for. Surrounding the pair they began pulling, preening and pushing them around in a blur of activity that was making Valorie dizzy. But once they were done they quickly disappeared out of the same door, leaving the two of them bemused.
Looking at each other they couldn’t argue about the results though, the already beautiful Morgana looking more like a noble than ever. Her long black hair braided with a green ribbon tied through it to match her eyes and her flowing silk dress. Valorie for her part could barely recognise the woman in the mirror, the signs of the woman she was before hidden behind a facade of face powders and clothes she would never have been able to afford. If it hadn’t been for the slit up her thigh on the violet dress, she would have questioned how they would possibly do their job tonight. But it seemed that the people in charge had apparently thought of everything.
“ok lets go” Isabell said, indicating back to the queens quarters.
Standing awkwardly in the centre of the room, the queen approached them both, walking around them as if inspecting a cut of meat. Umming and arrring, occasionally pinching a bit of the fabric or moving an errant wisp of hair.
“Yes this will do, thank you Isabel." she said dismissing the servant with a wave of her hand. "Now Valorie, I must use you before the guests arrive.”
A little taken aback by the suddenness of it, she felt the end of the queen’s device pushed into her hand. Bunching up her new dress she inserted it inside herself.
“You will have to be more discrete than that in the party” The queen said frowning slightly at her, before parting the dress she was wearing and inserting it subtly with one hand. If someone hadn’t been watching closely it would have been hard to tell anything was happening.
“Sorry your majesty” Valorie said bowing slightly before straightening up as she felt the Queens pee start to enter her. The warm filling sensation from earlier coming back as her bladder started to stretch again. After a few moments she was Thankful she had emptied out earlier because the Queen could apparently hold quite a lot even though she didnt seem desperate. Her majesty ironing out a crease in the dress she would wear tonight that was sitting on a manakin of her likeness, all the while her urine pumped between her emptying bladder and Valorie’s filling one. After around 40 seconds she finished, breathing a sigh of relief and detaching herself from her chamber maid and handed her the other end of the device.
Valorie could definitely feel the large quantity of pee now sitting inside her, it was far more than any one of the servants she had taken in previously. It made her wonder quite how long had the queen been holding it. If she could manage this maybe her job tonight would actually be easy, but the advice of Caroline went through her mind again.
“If you will excuse me for a moment your grace” She said, planning to give herself as much of a chance of being comfortable tonight as possible.
“No no, the guests will arrive soon there is no time for that. You must both accompany me to the entrance so that we may greet them once they arrive.” The queen replied dismissively. A pair of new servants pulling on her dress for her as the queen studied her reflection in the mirror. Apparently satisfied with how she looked she turned to them both. “Come on then” and with that she turned sharply, the doors In front of her opening before she reached them.
The gardens were as impressive as the castle, the perfectly cut hedges and topiaries turning the acres of green space into somewhat of a maze. Standing at the entrance they were soon joined by Queens mother and the other chamber ladies, most of whom had been dressed up in fancy clothing and were nervously waiting for their patrons to arrive. Only Morgana and Laura seemed to be unaffected by the situation, their confidence inspiring but not quite rubbing off on many of the others.
Soon the first cart pulled up, its impressive carriage pulled by two giants of horses, their breaths visible in the cool afternoon air.
“Lord and Lady Wellington with their daughter Miss Sandra Wellington.” A man announced as the doors of the carriage were opened by the smartly dressed driver who bowed as they stepped out. A rather portly gentleman with a large bushy moustache was first to emerge, his eyes slightly wide and scanning around with an air of suspicion. Holding out his arm his wife quickly took it, a slim tall woman with wiry red hair.
“Ah Lady Plover!” he announced loudly, his deep booming voice surprisingly cheerful for his appearance.
“Lord and Lady Wellington, always a pleasure” the Queen said holding out a hand which the lord placed in between his hands as he bowed slightly to her.
“May I introduce my daughter Sandra” he said turning as an almost mirror image of his wife came up behind him, her much more striking red hair barely wrangled into a tight bow. Curtsying with some grace the young woman seemed to be avoiding eye contact with the queen. Given that her farther had just introduce her, was this the first time she had seen the queen, an understandable reason to be nervous Valorie thought to herself.
“Now im afraid to make our welcome so crude, but after a long day of travelling I would ask you for use of a privy my Queen” The lord said blushing slightly.
“Certainly, we have arranged a chamber lady for you and your wife’s use”
“A chamber lady” He said hesitantly.
“Yes, we have done away with the antiquated chamber pots of old and now have trained servants to help carry the weight of our consumption.” The queen announced proudly, skipping over the part about needing to sell them to pay for the war they had just lost.
“I had heard of these” Lady wellington said excitedly, elbowing her husband gently.
“Laura, these are your charges if you would like to relive them” Caroline said, having joined them at the entrance to oversee the roles she had set out earlier.
“Your lord and ladyship” the buxom blonde said, curtsying as she stepped out of line and then handing over the end of her device. “If you would like to make use of me, I am at your service.”
“Splendid” His lordship said, grabbing the end and beginning to rummage around in his clothing for a moment. His wife and daughter beginning to visibly fidget beside him, their own needs having to wait a little longer.
“How do you use this blooming thing” he announced, his frustration apparent at being unable to relieve himself.
“I can aid you if you would like me too?” Laura said, uncharacteristically calm and kindly.
“Yes, servant help me with this thing.” He said, almost throwing the other end of the device back at her in annoyance with it. Catching it Laura carefully slid her hands under the lords clothing to help attach it as she had been shown. It was a little different given she had only practices with other women but the process was more or less the same.
“Don’t get any ideas” his wife said half-jokingly to her husband, but the look she gave Laura was anything but humorous. After a few seconds the pair were attached and as Laura stepped away she heard him sigh heavily, a warm stream starting to flow between their bladders.
“Oh yes” He said, his posture sinking slightly as he enjoyed his bladders release. “Much more dignified than squatting over the floor like an animal don’t you think” he asked, turning to see his red faced wife and squirming daughter.
“What is the matter with you two?” He said in a raised tone.
“I require the use of the chamber maid too” His wife said, curtsying for some reason as if she had said something offensive or rude in the presence of the Queen who was still stood watching the spectacle unfold. “I…I do too!” His daughter said quietly “But I don’t know if I can…go with a crowd”.
“if your grace would allow it, perhaps I can help the young lady somewhere more private?” Morgana suggested. Her own Patron not having arrived yet she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the young girl. It was clear her need to pee was substantial, but in the presence of the queen she could do nothing about it without risking bringing humiliation to her family. How she was sure the girl would have been squirming and dancing around the gardens if were not for their presence.
“Ok, but be quick about it” The queen said, the young girl taking Morgana's hand and being led away from the group and to some relative cover.
Taking small steps they made their way between a group of tall shrubberies untill the young girl suddenly doubled over. “Please, I cant hold it. Im sorry, I should have listened to them and gone before we set off, but I didn’t need to go then and now I have been holding it all day and I…..
“Its ok” Morgana said softly, smiling at the young girl who had pushed herself so far for her family.
“Please, take this” she continued, handing the whimpering girl the end of her device. Hastily she attached it to herself and groaned loudly as a heavily pressurised stream burst from her, the speed taking Morgana slightly by surprise and after 20 seconds she was beginning to see why the young girl had been so uncomfortable.
A large bladder seemed to be a family trait, the lord now switching place with his desperate wife after filling Laura with a considerable volume. But it was nothing she couldn’t handle, her iron bladder had never been bested before and she wasn’t about to let it be now. But in spite of her confident demeanour, as her bladder continued to stretch from its previously empty state she couldn't help but wince slightly as her muscles started to cramp inside her. The suddenness and volume of the intake bloating her bladder uncomfortably quickly. Focusing on the feeling for a moment Laura had forgotten where she was, her mind unfocused as she felt the sensations going on her bladder escalate. But a sudden trumpet blast startled her slightly and looking over she could see a group of horses approaching.
Watching the Queen closely Valorie hadn’t see her act like this before, she was clearly nervous to meet whom ever it was riding towards them. Her immaculate posture becoming more emphasised as she straightened her back even more and began adjusting her hair constantly. Was this her guest, even if it was, why could she be so nervous.
“Lord Geoffrey Munster, Prince of the Western Isles.” The same guard announced as the slow clopping of a dozen or more horses approached them.
Stopping in front of them a tall muscular man jumped from his horse, his bushy beard and long hair jostling slightly as he adjusted himself after what must have been a long ride. Looking up he spotted the Queen at which point his own demeanour changed instantly.
“Your grace!” he said bowing deeply. “My apologise, I was not expecting to be met by you at the gates.”
“Prince Geoffrey” she responded, curtsying deeply. Clearly this was no ordinary meeting or guest. “Please call me Keira”
“As you wish my lady, may I say word of your beauty fails to do you justice” he said, bowing again and kissing her hand, a faint redness appearing in the queen’s cheeks.
“And who pray tell is this beguiling beauty, a sister perhaps?” He said, looking over her shoulder and towards Valorie who suddenly felt herself at a loss for words.
But a moment later it became clear she was not the focus of his attention but the returning Morgana. Her elegant frame walking passed her and taking her place next to the queen as the young lady she was helping returned to her parents who were still using Laura to relieve themselves. The Blonde chamber lady clearly feeling the weight of the contents of the two bladders but putting on a strong face.
“I…..” Morgana started before the lord gently cupped her hand, kneeling on one leg he kissed her hand too.
“She is just a servant” The queen said hastily, flustered by her guest’s apparent fondness for her.
“Surely not just a servant” He said, still holding onto her hand as she stood slightly awkwardly, caught between being courteous to the guest and not annoying her Queen.
“She is your chamber lady for today and for the length of your stay here.”
“A chamber lady you say, so it seems their services had reached even this far then. Perhaps I should tell my parents of their services if all goes well tonight” he said, finally releasing Morgana's hand, but still staring into her green eyes.
“Ahem” the queen clearly her throat softly, “would you like to join me in the gardens for a walk?”
“That sounds lovely” He smiled charmingly at the queen who seemed to relax a little.
“Although, after such a long ride would you excuse me while I relieved myself for a moment.”
“Of course” she replied, now back to forcing another smile.
“If you would accompany me somewhere more private miss, I would not dishonour your majesty by performing such needs in front of her” he said, causing the Wellingtons to glower at him. Themselves having only just finished up with Laura.
Getting a reluctant nod from the queen, Morgana was led back to the same corner she had visited with the young woman previously and out of sight of the others.
“Well, he hasn’t changed a bit since you were little.” The queens mother said slightly condescendingly.
“Mother”
“What, even as a young one he was always a bit of a ladies man. I remember even you seemed to have a thing for him.”
“Mother!” The queen repeated, this time tearing her eyes away from the bushes he and Morgana had disappeared around moments before to look at her. She was currently stood with a couple of her elderly friends smiling somewhat at her expense. All of them old enough to remember their children including her running around these same gardens with a number of the other princes and princesses of other countries.
“Why don’t you and your friends go and find something to do, maybe use your own chamber maid and stop embarrassing me”
“Kiera, once you are a mother you will understand the fondness we have for such memories, and do you think so little of us that you expect us to use your chamber ladies? We have never and will not stoop to such unbecoming levels as to use servants in such a way.” Her sentence mixed with pride and disdain, but it was clear it was not for the servants but those that would use them.
Valorie couldn’t help but think back to Caroline’s speech earlier, the two women clearly having such drastically different options of the service that she now provided. But would the ageing woman be able to hold it through the entire day, and what would she do afterwards. Surely the queens mother and her friends would need to relieve themselves at some point.
“Sorry about that” Geoffrey said loudly as the emerged from the hedges still adjusting his trousers slightly.
“Now I believe you mentioned a walk through your fine garden?” He added cheerfully, holding out his arm for her to take.
“Of course, would you like something to drink?” Kiera asked, sliding her arm through his and enjoying the closeness of his body to hers.
“I would love some wine If it is no trouble” He said, as they set off into the rest of the estate.
“Morgana, why don’t you go and get us something to drink. There are tables in the centre of the grounds, im sure you wont have any problem finding them right?” The queen casually suggested.
“Yes your grace” Morgana said, curtsying and walking off in the search of some wine for the queen and her guest
Walking behind the queen and her new friend, Valorie was putting two and two together. It wasn’t their jobs to fetch things for the queen or her guests, so it wasn’t hard to figure out the queens other motive of sending her friend away for tasks that were not hers. Despite their positions she clearly saw Morgana as competition for the favour of this man, getting rid of her was just a plot to let the two of them spend more time together. Something that became more apparent over the next couple of hours as the group of them walked around the gardens, Valorie walking around quietly and largely ignored while the queen seemed to send Morgana away at any and all opportunities. However, this to her worry meant a lot of trips to supply them with wine or Ale and that was something both of them were starting to notice.
By this point the grounds were full of guests and servants, from time to time they would spot another of their friends accompanying their patrons. Sometimes they would even catch a glimpse of them being hurridly connected to each other as the large amounts of wine took their toll on everyone in attendance, the queens group included.
“I am sorry Keira, but Im afraid I have drunk too much and must make use of your servant once again.” Geoffrey announced, but far from looking apologetic it was easy to tell he was excited. His eyes already looking over Morgana, even before they were out of sight. Leading the servant away by her hand he almost pulled the tall woman along as she looked back at the pair of them, Valorie now alone with the queen for the first time. Was she supposed to make small talk? or just remain silent?
“Why don’t you go and refill our wine” The queen said, indicating the half empty vase of wine that Morgana just had enough time to set aside.
“Yes your majesty” Valorie said, happy to be given something to do as she walked off to find the tables they had passed a few minutes ago.
Quickly backtracking she found the tables easily. Walking over to the one with similar jugs she went to grab a full one, only to find the ones on these tables were empty. Peering into a couple of them they were clearly drained of their contents, had the guests really gone through so much wine?
“Look who it is, where is Morgana then?” came a snide remark from Laura as she placed another empty jug on the table.
“She is with the queen and her lord.” Valorie replied, looking around for where she could get the wine for the queen.
“Who does she think she is anyway” Laura continued, ignoring her answer. “Walking around like she is better than us, well she will see who had the real iron bladder, even if I have to force the wine on my patrons to fill me up, I’ll show her.”
“Do you know where……” Valorie started, becoming a bit nervous about how long she was taking.
“And you, how come someone as plain and small bladdered as you got the queen. That should have been my job!” Laura said condescendingly, peering down her nose at her.
“Oh leave her alone, Caroline chose our roles not us” Anna said, she too returning a now empty pitcher of ale to the table. “But they sure can go through this stuff though”
“Yeah, and I’ll hold it all even if I have to do all your jobs for you.” Laura said confidently. “But my patrons require more to drink so if you will excuse me.” Walking off she seemingly disappeared and while Valorie was worrying about how long she was taking, she didn’t really want to end up at the table with Laura at the same time.
“Whats wrong with that one” Anna said, her legs pressing together slightly.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, just need to pee. My lords have been going through this stuff so quickly and are passing it on to me just as fast” she said, a hand resting on her slightly bloated stomach.
“The queen is too, I think she is just sending us out to get things so she can be alone with her guest.” Valorie said, becoming slightly worried she had said too much.
“At least the queen isn’t trying to undress you. The amount of hands I have had to swat away so far tonight is starting to worry me. Im sure the Ale wont help with that either.”
“Maybe they will get too drunk to be able to stand soon, so you wont have anything to worry about then” Valorie joked, happy to see a smile appear on Anna’s face. The short Brunette clearly agreeing and hoping it would happen sooner rather than later.
Accompanying each other to the new drinks table after giving Laura a few moments head start they each grabbed a large vase of wine and went their separate ways.
Arriving back at the queen who hadn’t moved far she was surprised to see that Morgana and her lord had not returned.
“Oh good, I was beginning to think I had been abandoned by my servants.” The queen said sarcastically.
“Sorry your grace” she apologised.
“Now that you are here, I need to relieve myself.”
“Yes your grace” Valorie said, handing over the end of the device to the queen who swiftly attached it and let out a steady 30 second stream. It wasn’t as much as she had pumped into Valorie earlier in the day, but it was still enough to make a noticeable difference inside her. The pressure multiplying quickly as the new weight of liquid settled inside her. pressing her legs together Valorie waited for her body to adapt to its new fullness.
“Keira, I thought you had more decency than to use your servants like this.” The queens mother said, rounding the corner unknown to both of them.
“It is their duty, its why we have them” she said, detaching herself and standing up straight again.
“That may be true but it is only because those are the duties we give them....why don’t we take a walk” her mother said, putting her arm through her daughters.
“Yes mother” Kiera said, the pair of them walking off.
Following behind them Valorie was becoming aware of the short and purposeful strides the queens mother was making. Was she too struggling with a full bladder, but refusing to take release on principle even if it left her uncomfortable? Walk around behind them for some time they were soon re-joined by the queens guest and Morgana who received a much more disdainful look from her, despite the lords suggestion they could find nowhere private enough to let him use her.
His explanation temporarily interrupted by a loud cry that could be he heard from a group of men, several of them crashing their goblets together. The end of their apparently entertaining story ending in a round of laughter and applause.
“You there chamber maid, I require your attention” the story teller shouted as ale swished out of his full goblet.
"Yeah and then I do and I think Rob and hell I think we could all do with a private session with you" Another joked boisterously.
“Yes my lord” Charlotte replied, pulling out her device for him to use. She had so far gone unused and was rather hoping the group she served would become to drunk to notice and simply relieve themselves outside. But it seemed she would have no such luck this evening, a fact she was cursing alongside the fact so many of the other women had failed the test earlier. With only 6 passing, it seemed she was supposed to be doing the jobs to two women given the size of her group.
Unlike many of the other patrons of the chamber ladies, it also seemed that none of Charlotte's group had an issue of using her in the sight of the others. One by one the group of young men attached themselves to her, letting out steady streams for several minutes as her bladder expanded in front of them. As the last man started draining himself Charlotte couldn’t help but grunt loudly, causing a cheer to erupt between the others as she clutched her now heavily distended abdomen. The short blonde haired woman’s body filling to levels that even she was not use too. She had been a chamber lady before, but nothing like this.
Breathing heavily Charlotte somehow survived the ordeal, her abdomen heavily bloated with the drunken bladders of the men and aching terribly. Her muscles were being stretched to their limits, but she had held. Although as the darts of pain started to shoot across her body she knew she couldn’t manage like this for long, fireworks of pain radiating out from her bladder as those around her cheered at its discomfort.
“Please," She stammered again. She had started to protest after the fourth man, but it had fallen on deaf ears as the next man had instantly attached himself.
"If you will excuse me sir’s I need to make myself comfortable so I may continue to serve you.” She said, trying to phrase it in a way that they may not fully understand what she meant.
“I thought you were to serve us all night?” One of them asked, his head cocked to the side.
“I am at your service for all of tonight, but im afraid I can not take much more. So if you would like to use my services later im afraid I must take a moment” She replied, stifling a groan as pulses started racing through her body. Her bladder contracting rapidly inside her abdomen more and more as the seconds passed and her body began to comprehend its actual fullness. The speed of her bladders inflation apparently causing her discomfort to lag slightly and only know was her brain catching up.
“well, I’ll consider it, if you go and get us another jug of ale. it would appear we are out”
But even as he was saying this she could hear the men boasting beside her. It seemed to her horror that they were treating it like a game, trying to see who could be the one to break her iron control.
“Please sir, im desperate” she almost begged while now bobbing on the spot, admitting her need in plain language for the first time. She watched the lord sigh deeply, his eyes softening slightly.
“Ok fine, but be quick and remember to bring us back two ale jugs. I cant say the others will be as generous so make the most of it.” he finished dismissively as he sat down with the others.
“Thank you sir” she said curtsying before standing rapidly, the separation of her legs almost causing her to lose it instantly.
Rushing through the garden Charlotte almost held her breath for fear that any relaxing would spell disaster for her aching muscles. Their rapid expansion from empty to beyond full in just minutes not giving her body any time to adapt or build strength in the muscles she needed right now. Picking up speed she cradled her distended bladder with both hands, her muscles threatening to breakdown at any moment.
Looking up she spotted Anna ahead of her, her hands full of yet another empty jug.
“Hey Charlotte, are you ok”
“NNN, NuuNN” She uttered, not stopping movement as she shook her head violently. The look of concern on her friends face easy to see as she passed in a blur in search of relief.
Rounding the next corner, her feet moving feverishly until she was forced to stop as a pair of elderly looking lords blocked her path. One of them currently emptying himself into Macey, the look of discomfort on her friends face causing Charlotte to double over as she watched her bladder swell before her eyes. The sight making her own throb deeply in sympathy to her friends plight, quickly skirting around them to resume her hurried rush through the gardens.
Looking ahead she was almost there, she was just moments from relief!
Pushing open the large wooden door to the servants entrance of the kitchen was almost too much for her, but she was too close to let go of her control now. Hurrying through the kitchen she felt it, the first wavering of her muscles that told her she was nearing a catastrophic and humiliating end. Racing between the tows of ovens and equipment her foot stepped in something sticky, her lace-less shoe pulled from her foot by something resembling uncooked dough. But Charlotte knew she had no time to spare, she had to leave it. Continuing with one bare foot she somewhat shambled down the corridor holding her bladder muscles together with her hands, finally she could see the exterior door they had all used earlier. Slamming it open she hiked up the pretty blue dress she had been given for this event and no sooner as it had moved past her waist her bladder burst. A hot stream of urine spraying out of her as she groaned in relief, her head becoming light as she felt the most amazing sensation. Her tense body sagging a little as she finally fell into a crouched position, a few rivulets running down her bare legs, but thankfully the dress had been saved and so had her bladder.
“Alright love, looks like you needed that” came a voice behind her.
Turning her head slightly she was mortified to see a group of three male guards relieving themselves in the same small courtyard, each and every one of them able to see up her bunched up dress. Blushing madly she turned away from them, the stream coming out of her arching as she twisted but not slowing for one moment.
Despite the humiliation of the guards seeing her, Charlotte couldn’t help but feel relieved. She would really have to ask the men to space themselves out next time, or risk a repeat performance or worse.
---------------------------------------------
Once again, thank you for reading.
Still a lot of backstory / build up, but I hope people are still enjoying it.
But as the guests continue to drink their weight in wine, things might be about to get a little uncomfortable for our chamber ladies. |
So here is the final chapter, be warned its a bit of a long one, but I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 3: The feast
Back in the garden Valorie was watching the queen becoming increasing frustrated, but this time not at Morgana. Prince Geoffrey and her mother were currently walking around with their arms linked, reminiscing about his parent’s holidays to their city when they were younger. A number of which brought back seemingly embarrassing stories about her that the queen clearly thought were beneath her royal stature.
“Mother, don’t you think some of our other guests would enjoy a chance to speak to you?” she suggested, clearly trying to break up the pairing as they laughed about yet another tale of childish innocence.
“Nonsense, the night is still young dear.” She replied.
“I need a drink” The queen muttered to herself, outstretching her empty glass for Valorie to refill with the wine she had brought back. Lifting the heavy jug Valorie began to pour the drink out of the cumbersome container, designed more for tables than to walk around with.
“Besides, I’d really like to know who it was that broke my grandfather’s air loom the last time you and your sister were here” Lady Meredith continued.
A quiet gasped escaped the Queen as her eyes widened for a second, her mother’s question somewhat surprising her. Surprise that caused the grasp of her cup to faulter, the silver goblet tumbling from her hand and too the floor. Caught between pouring into the cup and the unexpected movement of it Valorie’s grip also failed, the heavy jug following the goblet onto the freshly cut grass beneath them.
“Im sorry, im so sorry!” She began to stammer bending down to grab the fallen items.
“Do you know how much this dress costs, what if that had gotten on me!” The queen shouted, a number of people around them pausing their conversations to look at their group.
“I’m sorry your grace” Valorie could feel tears beginning to well in her eyes, why did this sort of thing always happen to her.
“Kiera, im sure she didn’t do it on purpose.” The queens mother started.
“That’s not the point, now go and get a jug to replace that. And you!, go and get me a clean goblet from the kitchens” she said, handing off the one she had just been handed from the floor to Morgana.
Curtseying deeply and trying to collect her thoughts Valorie left them quickly, trying to clear thoughts about what had just happened from her mind. But as she approached the table she had visited not so long ago, she was shocked to see it completely empty of jugs as the queens guests went through the drinks with some speed.
Standing to one side she also noticed one of the women she had been brough in with, Macey. The slightly older woman standing to the side, her legs constantly shifting as she seemingly waited for something. Standing awkwardly for a minute Valorie tried to think of something to say, but the shuffling woman was clearly preoccupied with something.
“Are they out of Wine?” Valorie asked, the silence unbearable and equally she wanted to know if she was in the right place, she didn’t want to be later than she needed to be.
“Oh, sorry I didn’t see you approach.” The dark-haired woman said, her attention apparently somewhere else for the moment. “Yeah, they are refilling them now although its been a short while already. But there are some single glasses over there if you want to take one to your Patron?” she continued, indicating a table which currently displayed a dozen or more goblets full of wine.
“Wow, they sure do go through this stuff quickly” Valorie sighed, she didn’t want to make the queen wait again, but given her request for a goblet from Morgana she might not take it well if she too arrived with one.
“You are not wrong there. I don’t know how much my lords have had to drink, but I’m definitely starting to feel it. The wine seems to go straight through them and their aging bladders, I was kind of hoping they were running out.”
“Is It that bad?” Valorie asked, genuinely concerned for her new friends ability to last the night.
“Not yet, but they have used me three times each and I don’t know how much more I can take.” She tried to smile as to not make it sound too bad, but the look on her face gave away the real scale of the problem. Even from where she stood Valorie could make out the unmistakable bulge of a full bladder poking through her clothing.
“Only three, wow you must have a tiny bladder. I bet you won’t even make it a week as a chamber maid.” Another snide remark came out of nowhere. Why was she always around, Valorie couldn’t help but think as Laura slinked her way over to the table to wait with them for more wine.
“Im holding eight and barely feel anything” she boasted, patting her stomach for added effect. “I bet you have even stopped drinking” she said, reaching out a hand to grab one of the nearby goblets “I doubt even Morgana can handle drinking at the same time, her bladder is no match for mine”.
“I…I think those are just for the lords” Macey said.
But rolling her eyes it was clear Laura didn’t care much for her advice. “Like they will even notice.” She said, picking up the vessel and swigging from it as they waited. Luckily after a few more moments of awkwardness passed between the three of them a number of servants appeared carrying dozens of large jugs between them.
Grabbing one of the large vases of wine Valorie watched as Laura tipped the glass back and began to chug the wine. Her overconfidence would be her downfall one of these days and she would be lying if she didn’t want to see it.
“You, servant who said you could drink this wine.” An angry voice shouted at them, a voice Valorie knew well.
“Um…your grace I just needed a drink” Laura stammered, blushing slightly as she was caught red handed.
“Well, you should have gone to the kitchens. This wine is for the nobles only, not servants like yourself.”
“Caroline said we should do whatever we could to serve our lords and I didn’t want to take any more time to get the wine.” Valorie frowned slightly at that explanation, it wasn’t quite what their mentor had told them to do and it was clear Laura was just trying to weasel her way out of it.
“Are you not a chamber lady, should you not be holding for your lords even if you are thirsty.” The queen continued, walking towards them with Morgana and her lordship in toe. The queen’s mother was a few moments behind, clearly preoccupied with something as she stood rigidly speaking to one of her friends in hurried tones.
“Yes, but I can handle it. I have an iron bladder that can handle anything.”
There she was, boasting again.
“I like your confidence.” The queen said, a shrew smile crossing her face for a moment, a glimmer in her eyes telling Valorie that she was clearly enjoying what ever thought was going through her mind.
“You like wine then?” she asked.
“Yes your majesty.” Laura answered, a look of slight confusion on her face.
“Well then, I think we should let you have your fill.” Her crooked smile widening.
“Your...grace?” Laura was clearly concerned for the first time about where this was going, the nervousness on her face something Valorie had not witnessed since meeting her this morning.
Walking up to the table the queen picked up one of the vases, its contents enough for a table of people at a banquet to fill their glasses. “I feel this should be more fitting to someone of your stature”. She continued offering the large container to Laura who cautiously accepted it, standing on the spot unsure of what to do.
“Well, I thought you said you like wine. Drink up.” The queen said with a sense of glee in her voice.
Laura’s eyes widened as she came to the realisation of what the queen wanted her to do, but unable to refuse she gazed down in the large vase for a few moments. The vast quantity of swirling purple liquid only reflecting her own worried face back at her, but with nothing else to do she raised the container to her lips and tipped it back. Instantly her mouth was filled and almost overflowing with wine, the wide neck of the jug not designed to be drunk from directly.
Breathing heavily through her nose she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the wine which soon lost all flavour. Looking up she could see the queen looking on intently, waiting for her to fail but she would not give her the satisfaction. Moving her hand slightly she supported the jug and pushed it further up, the stream of never-ending wine flowing into her waiting mouth. The queen wanted to humiliate her, but she would show her that her iron bladder could survive anything she wanted to throw her way. The muscles in her throat were moving constantly as the river of wine moved down them. She could feel the weight in the vase finally starting to lessen, but all that meant was that it was now inside her instead. The stream of wine continuing as Laura felt her stomach swelling massively, her already bloated bladder being pressured by the increasing size of her stomach.
Watching on it was impossible not for Valorie to see the short woman’s stomach growing by the second. The slight and easy to miss bump from her patrons pee giving way to a much larger protrusion that only seemed to grow with each mouthful. Her tight blue dressing being pushed away from her by the strange growth pushing out of her abdomen.
It was getting harder for Laura to swallow, her stomach was full and sending signals for her to stop. But she couldn’t, the gleeful look on her majesty’s face as she started to struggle enough to reignite the fire in her mind as to not lose to the woman. It had been over a minute of solid drinking, her stomach ached with fullness and she could feel it starting to spasm inside her. The quantity of rich wine making her nauseous, but she would not fail! Tilting back the vase she looked into it, she was almost done! With renewed vigour she guzzled down the remaining liquid until finally the giant vase lay empty. Coughing once she felt the contents of her body shift uncomfortably and looking down she could see why. Her stomach was now protruding and making her look heavily pregnant, the quantity of wine pushing her body to its limits.
“Have you had your fill, or should I order you another?” The queen said harshly, displeased by her success.
“Yes your majesty.”
“You would like another?”
“I..um no…im sorry your majesty.” She stammered. If she made her drink another, she knew she would be unable to take it without something failing catastrophically.
“Good. But if I catch you stealing wine again, Ill have you serve every guest at this party by yourself. Now go find your lords and get out of my sight.”
Without waiting for the servant to leave the Queen began to march off, walking back towards her mother as Valorie and Morgana shared a look agreeing not to get themselves in trouble if that was the price. Grabbing a vase for them Valorie quickly followed the queen taking a quick glance at Laura as she uneasily walked off clutching her bloated stomach with one hand and another jug in the other.
Continuing to walk around the garden for a short while they soon arrived at a covered stand with a number of benches, the queens mother suggesting they take a short rest after so much walking. Sighing heavily as she sat it was clear lady Meredith felt more relaxed, but it was starting to become apparent that it was not just her feet that were aching. Her legs tightly pressed together and angled to one side as they sat around.
“Servant” the queen said loudly, shaking her empty glass in Valorie’s direction once more.
“Yes your majesty” she replied, walking over and carefully pouring her a glass of wine.
Stepping over to the queen’s mother she offered to fill her glass but just got a gentle shake of the head and a clearly forced smile in response.
The group sat there for some time, the minutes passing by quickly as the queen and Geoffrey talked, her mother quieter than she had been previously. From how they spoke It was clear that he had been chosen as the one to wed the queen in an effort to start rebuilding the trust of the country. As Valorie and Morgana stood there the conversation often diverted from heroic stories of his battles to talks of the future and how they could rebuild the country together.
As the evening passed the sun began to set and the temperature dropped, causing a shiver to pass down Morgana’s back. The fancy dress she was wearing providing little in the way of protection from the cold.
“Are you cold my Lady?” Geoffrey asked, the mere suggestion that she was a lady and not just a servant clearly ruffling the feathers of the queen. Morgana had done nothing but serve them faithfully but to the queen it still seemed the lords fondness for her was the only thing in the way of the marriage and alliance the queen so desperately wanted.
“Im fine my lord” Morgana replied, smiling curtly at him.
“Perhaps the lord is right. Why don’t you go and take a moment to warm up in the kitchens and return with a new vase.” She said, indicating for Valorie to give her the still third full jug.
“Thank you, your grace” Morgana said curtsying and disappearing behind a hedge yet again.
As she rounded the hedge she could see Anna being pulled along by one her patrons. Led by her hand she was being forced to walk at a pace that was clearly too fast for her to find comfortable, her free hand resting under her bladder that had clearly bloated out even more. A slight groaning noise could be heard from her as she was pulled past, her thighs shaking with each heavy step that caused her face to contort slightly. Her patrons had been having their way with her over the last few hours and she was paying the price for being given a group, despite her bladder’s capabilities.
Reaching the kitchen Morgana pressed open the door, the room filled with dozens of staff bustling around as the prepared the evenings food. They were apparently so busy that one poor servant had lost her shoe in the scramble to prepare the evenings feast. Finding a number of full jugs she picked on up and began her walk back, deciding to take the long way back.
“Please hurry we have too….Oh! please excuse the interruption your grace” a lord said, bowing slightly as he emerged from the bushes with Macey and another lord in toe. From the man’s not so subtle squirming it was clear he desperately needed to pee, although as Valorie looked towards her friend it was definitely not the first time. Her thin frame now sporting a large bulge in her abdomen as she stood there with her legs pressed together.
“Lord’s Thornton” The queen said, acknowledging their presence but not initiating a conversation. Either to save the desperate elderly lords graces or just because she had no interest in having one.
Blushing deeply the lord bowed again, shuffling off to find somewhere else to relieve himself into Macey. The chamber maid and Valorie sharing one last slightly forlorn look between them as Macey was led away.
“Ah there you are, I was wondering if you had gotten lost?” the queen chastised Morgana as she approached a few minutes later.
“I have your wine your grace, but I’m afraid someone has asked me to get Lady Meredith for them” Morgana said, curtsying slightly.
“Requested me, what on earth for?” The queens mother asked.
“Im not sure your grace, I did not question them”
“Yes, as you should” the queens mother replied, a quiet grunt escaping her lips as she stood using her left hand to steady herself. “Well my dear, it seems duty calls” she said, putting a hand on her daughters shoulder for a moment.
Walking with steady but short steps the ageing royal walked alongside the taller Morgana for a while, snaking their way through the grounds and heading for a far corner. “What on earth are they doing all the way out here?” Lady Meredith asked, they hadn’t seen anyone in the last few minutes as many now stuck closer to the refreshments than at the start. Stopping and turning around Morgana looked into the eyes of the queen’s mother.
“I apologise if this is going to far, but I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to be in need of a chamber pot and I would like to offer you my services as a chamber maid. Despite your predisposition of not wanting to use one of us, I assure you it is no trouble for me and I will speak nothing of this to anyone.” Morgana spoke quickly but clearly, hoping to get the explanation out before she could be interrupted. But now as an awkward silence grew between them, she wished she had something else to say. Her lips pursed in anticipation and worry of what the royal might say.
“I….” The queen’s mother stopped for a moment, her eyes closing as something else got her attention. She had written off the idea of using a member of her court as a chamber pot on principle, but had failed to think of an alternative. “But, I cant just use you”
“It is what I am here for your grace, it is my duty to hold for you so you can carry out your own duties.” Morgana said, curtsying for added effect.
“Well, I’m sorry it has come to this Morgana, but you may be right. My bladder may not be able to last the night and my need is getting quite strong and distracting from my other duties.” She said rubbing her lower abdomen. “You have my thanks” she reluctantly finished off, accepting her fate and taking the end of Morgana’s device.
Now connected to each other Morgana felt her distended bladder start to fill once again, although looking at the woman opposite it was hard to tell anything was happening. Lady Meredith’s face was completely blank with her eyes closed, only the increasing pressure and warmth in her lower abdomen told her exactly what was going on.
Despite being the other side of middle aged it seemed the queen’s mother still had a sizeable and strong bladder. For more than a minute she continued to empty herself, a steady and un-rushed stream pouring out of her and into Morgana. It should have come as no surprise to the chamber lady given the fact everyone seemed to have relieved themselves once, twice or in some cases more times into their chamber maids. The fact that she had gone this long without was impressive, even as Morgana felt her dress starting to tighten considerably around her midriff.
After almost two minutes the stream finally stopped, Lady Meredith sighing deeply with her eyes still closed. She had just used a chamber lady, something she had said she would never do.
“I would appreciate your discretion” she finally said, ending the silence and opening her eyes.
“You have it my lady” Morgana said, curtsying slightly less gracefully as she got use to the new weight of her bladders contents.
Finding their way back towards the main part of the garden a quiet rustling of a nearby bush caught their attention. Looking beyond it they could see Macey standing rigidly as one of the Lord Thornton’s was handing a familiar device to the other as he danced desperately on the spot. This area clearly becoming a favourite of those who wished to discretely use the chamber ladies.
“Lord’s Thornton?”
“Your grace!” the both cried simultaneously, the desperate lord standing up straight and visibly wincing.
“Its been too long” Lady Meredith said, moving into to shake hands with them both.
“Indeed it has Lady Meredith”
As the small talk started Morgana’s gaze drifted beyond the two lords and to Macey. The young woman barely moving from her spot the entire time, a worried and pained expression plastered across her face as she did her best to remain composed.
But after a couple of minutes she heard her whimper softly, her eyes widening and looking down in mild surprise. Following her gaze Morgana could just make out another of the devices she had just used with the queen’s mothers and through it appeared to be a flowing stream of her patron’s pee. She wasn’t sure how the lord had managed it without anyone noticing, but it seemed he had somehow attached himself and was currently relieving himself into Macey. A calm look on his face as he physically relaxed, his shoulders sinking and giving the game away slightly.
A few steps behind him Macey let out a groan that thankfully for her seemed to go unnoticed by everyone but Morgana who was watching the poor woman’s plight. Clearly she was at her capacity, her bulging bladder pulsing inside her as the unrelenting stream from the man attached to her filled it even more. Still Macey stood there, now rocking slightly but not daring to go any further in the presence of the queen’s mother. Her lord filling her even as he spoke, seemingly now well practised with using the poor woman as a chamber pot.
“Well I suppose we should be getting back to my daughter before the feast starts” Lady Meredith said, expecting to leave the two lords and head back with just Morgana.
“My lords may I be…..” Macey started; she had been patiently waiting for their meeting to end so she could desperately ask to relieve herself.
“Ah yes, we have been meaning to speak to Kei…Her majesty about something. Mind if we accompany you?” One of the lords asked, interrupting Macey and causing the queens mother to pause. But unable to think of any other way out of it she simply nodded, indicating their way forward with her hand as the group moved off.
“How are you doing?” Morgana quietly asked Macey, her feet still rooted to the spot as the group started to move away. The strain of her brimming bladder taking its toll on the woman, a quiet whimper and worried expression was the only response she could give. Her giant inflated bladder causing her an indescribable amount of discomfort. Taking one step forward she groaned quietly, her upper body lurching forward as something inside her pulsed painfully. But she had to follow, it was her duty and she couldn’t be left behind.
Red faced and sweating profusely Macey continued, taking small mincing steps as she almost panted with exertion. One step, two steps, three steps, each causing explosions of pain inside her as even the careful movements she was making strained her brimmingly full bladder. Now behind the lords and Lady Meredith she gave herself one last hope, her left hand moving between her legs as she walked, pressing heavily into her crotch to offer her aching muscles a small reprieve in the hopes of lasting a while longer. Surely, she would be able to get a break soon, perhaps when the feast started they would be too preoccupied with their meals to notice.
Walking slowly she and Morgana followed the nobles for a couple of minutes, their long journey to the absolute edges of the garden taking them far away from the others. While she might have craved the privacy of such a place, the constant walking was wreaking havoc inside Macey’s body. The sudden spikes in pain and discomfort that happened with each step had turned into a continuous wave, with each step amplifying the crashing of the waves of urine stored within her bladder.
Suddenly stopping to inspect a particularly rare rose she felt the waves continuing to batter her defences despite being still. A quite whimper escaped her again as she pressed harder on her womanhood, she couldn’t make the feast she had to find a way of excusing herself.
“Servant, would you be so kind as to go and get us some wine” Her lord said, turning to face them.
Realising he was about to look at her, Macey’s hand flew away from her crotch, she couldn’t be caught performing such an undignified thing as holding herself. But even as her hand was swiftly moving away from it she realised her mistake, a strong pulse ripped through her body causing her to clutch herself again. Doubling over she groaned out loud for the first time, everyone turning to look at the tortuously full woman as he whole body shook.
“Oh no” a quiet hiss filling the still air as a trail of wetness could be seen escaping from her left foot. She was fighting to remain in control of her bulging bladder, but it was no use.
“UUUhhhhh” she groaned again, her whole body convulsing as the final spasm turned the slow stream into a raging torrent. The front of the dress afforded to her by the crown darkening as a deluge of piss splattered noisily onto the flagstone pathways of the queen’s garden. Her bladders control gone she remained bent over, a hand on her slowly deflating bladder as the contents of her patrons bladders flowed out of her and into the puddle that was forming beneath her wet legs.
Taking a step back as the deluge of liquid continued to spray out of her friend Morgana couldn’t help but press her own legs together, the sound of it splattering on the stones causing her own discomfort to rise.
After a full minute of wetting the front and back of her cream coloured dress were completely saturated, some of the fine material turning see through and sticking to her sodden legs. Her pale pink skin easy to see through the expensive dress that she had just ruined. Begging to sob Macey couldn’t believe she had failed to hold it. She had humiliated herself and her lords in front of the queen’s mother. What would she do now, what could she do now?
Finally, the heavy stream came to and end as the last of the light flagstones darkened in a massive arc around the humiliated woman. An awkward silence falling between the group as none of them knew what to do.
“My poor girl, Morgana please will you take her back to the castle and get her cleaned up.” The queens mother said, stepping towards the sobbing woman but stopping at the edge of the giant puddle that was slowly draining away between the cracks in the flagstones.
“Yes your majesty” Morgana said before going wide eyed for a moment, “I mean yes my lady” she said correcting herself, Macey’s accident causing her a moment of distraction, but it didn’t seem as if Lady Meredith had noticed. Putting an arm around Macey as drops continued to fall from her soaked clothing she led her away from the lords and back towards the castle.
Unfortunately for Macey the only route back would mean they would have to pass a number of other party goers, and no matter what they tried there was just no way they could cover up the state of Macey’s dress and the accident that had happened. As they began to pass party goes a number of loud gasps from ladies of the court only heightened the humiliation for Macey, her face burning red as she looked at her own feet and letting Morgana guide her.
“Wheeey” a cheer from a group of clearly drunken young men nearby almost made her flinch.
“Come on Anna, why don’t you give us a show like your friend here” One of them shouted and lifting her eyes she caught a small smile from Anna who was the one serving the table of
“I bet you would be up for it after some wine, what do you think” Another added, trying to force a class of wine into Anna’s hands with an arm on her shoulder. The son of one of the lords here clearly taking a shine to the slim dark-haired woman.
“Im not supposed to drink” She tried to rebuff the man’s advances.
“I thought you were supposed to serve us”
“I….”
“One glass.” He countered.
Unclenching her hand a large goblet was quickly placed in it and looking at the excited face of her Patron she took a small sip which caused another cheer to go up from the group.
Exchanging knowing and slightly worried glances Anna watched Morgana lead the wet Macey towards the castle, hoping that despite her aching bladder she would not follow suit. But looking down at the glass of wine in her hand, she could help but feel the tightness in her stomach.
“Do you want any more wine lady Wellington, perhaps some Ale?”
“Oh goodness no, ive drunk far too much” the tall lady said, her hand stifling an un-lady like burp that took her by surprise.
“Yes, I have never been so well waited upon, my cup has not gone dry for the entire evening!” Her husband said raising it towards Laura. “Your service has been impeccable, but speaking of I must make use of you again.”
Smiling at him Laura quickly got out the device, she would show Morgana who the really holding queen was. There was no way she would be holding as much as her!
Soon yet another stream was flowing into her massively distended bladder, the lords own large bladder apparently full to its capacity once again. Grimacing slightly, she could feel her body starting to strain under the weight of the wine she had been forced to drink and the contents of already bulging bladder. Placing a hand on her growing abdomen she could feel the forks of pain radiating out from it, but even as her body was forced to stretch to new and painful levels it was all just a reminder of how strong she was. Nothing could break her not even…..
“Yes, I need to use you too” The lords wife said.
Perfect, Laura thought to herself, even as her body continued to scream at her to stop.
Across the garden the queen was clearly enjoying finally getting Geoffrey to herself. The pair chatting like old friends, with her occasionally resting her hand on his arm and laughing whenever he made a joke. Despite how much the powerful woman intimidated her, Valorie couldn’t help but enjoy seeing this side of the power couple. But soon the chatter of a group soon approached them, the Queens mother returning with a pair of lords but curiously without either Morgana or Macey who she had seen with the two men earlier.
“Your majesty” they both bowed.
“Sorry for leaving last time, we had something to…attend to. But if you have a minute, we would love to talk to you about something?”
“Of course,” she smiled curtly, but despite what she was saying it was easy to see she was not pleased with the interruption. But considering she was now the queen and her mother had brought them, she couldn’t exactly say no.
Despite her reluctance the queen soon got into the swing of things, the two lords talking about everything from crops to tax and even the war. Soon the notion of a minute went out the window, the aristocratic talking seeming to stretch out indefinitely for Valorie and the returning Morgana who got yet another disapproving look from the queen.
But as Valorie watched on she was becoming more and more aware of the uncomfortable looks and slight fidgeting on the faces of the two men who were standing opposite the queen. She wasn’t sure how long they had all been talking, but it was becoming clear that it was more than enough time for the evenings wine to start catching up with both of the men talking to her. They were doing their best to hide it from the queen who did seem to be unaware, continuing to talk even as they were beginning to politely try and wind up the conversation. But each time they did it, she would bring up a new topic and they were ultimately stuck there talking to her until she said so.
But eventually to the assured relief of both men, a loud bell soon rang through the gardens. The feast was about to begin!
“Shall we head in?” The queen suggested.
Taking a moment to look at each other it was clear neither of them wanted that. “You go ahead, we are going to talk about something first.” They agreed.
“As you wish” She said nodding, both lords bowing with strained faces as she walked away from them.
As soon as the group was out of sight, the two lords dashed through the garden looking for Macey or another chamber lady, their need dire.
Spotting a servant walking through they waved a hand “You there, maid we require your assistance.”
“How may I help?” a bemused looking servant asked, a look of confusion and worry at being greeted by two such hurried men.
“Here take this, we require relief” one of them said, hastily pressing the device they still had from Macey into the woman’s hand.
“But..Im not a chamber lady” Kelly responded, her mind going back a few hours to when she had disgraced herself in the tests. She had done her best, but moving her legs apart when she had been more desperate than she could ever remember had been just too much for her and her bladder.
“You are a servant and we are nobles, so you will serve us.” He continued, hastily undoing his trousers and attaching himself to the device that she still held in her hands.
“No buts girl, it is your duty to serve.” The other added.
It wasn’t right, she wasn’t supposed to be doing this. But how was she supposed to argue with these people, they were nobles and she was just a servant.
Connecting herself up she instantly felt the lord’s bladder relax and a heavy stream of urine flow into her bladder. It was a feeling she couldn’t have forgotten from earlier that day, but it didn’t make it any more comfortable. Instinctively she began to rub her highs together under the dress, the strange feeling of being filled making it feel like she was already desperate despite knowing she had barely needed the bathroom a few moments ago. Closing her eyes she exhaled sharply as her bladder cramped or a moment, the lord had clearly had a lot to drink but thankfully it seemed he was coming to the end of his pee.
However, before she could say anything, she could see the look in the others lords eyes, eyes that were transfixed on the device she was attached too. A grimace on his face he and one hand permanently inside his trousers, an indecent posture but judging by grimace on his face one that was necessary. Would she be able to take them both, did she have any chance.
“Hurry up Eddard” He whispered harshly.
“Ok, im almost done.” The peeing noble said gleefully.
But it was almost too late already, as he let go of his member to grab the device he groaned loudly and his movements became more hurried. Unable to wait he yanked his trousers away from himself, a stream bursting forwards and spraying against Kelly who flinched in response. But before she could say or do anything else the lord managed to attach the device to himself, the stream that had started finally under control and going down the tubing.
As the second bladder in as many minutes began to inflate Kelly she was now the one groaning, but not in relief. An uncomfortable weight and pressure sitting inside her abdomen that she used one hand to rub it gently as she began shifting where she stood. The wetness of the bottom of her dress an unhelpful reminder of how desperate she was quickly becoming. She wasn’t a chamber maid, why did these lords have to use her, where was their chamber maid at a time like this!
Now in the main hall Valorie had found herself sat almost at the head of the tables, one place over from the queen and in a position of almost power. Realistically it was simply so she was never too far from her in the event she needed to pee, which she hadn’t done for a while as Valorie started thinking about it. Although having watched the wine and ale disappear through the evening it was Geoffrey that had been downing the stuff, with a thirst that made both her and the queen suspicious he was really doing it to get a moment alone with Morgana from time to time. As they had approached the castle he had once again gone off with the beautiful servant much to the queen’s annoyance. An annoyance that only seemed to exponentially increase once she realised that as his chamber maid, she would be sat in between the queen’s self and Geoffrey. She had suggested that she simply sit on the left of him, but neither her mother or Caroline were pleased with it, everything had apparently been prepared with an exact order in mind.
As the feast began and the first of thirteen courses was brought out, Valorie found herself looking around the room from her elevated position of Pseudo power, noticing her friends and fellow chamber ladies scattered through the room.
After her desperate dash earlier Charlotte was back with her group, sitting quietly with her legs together she neither looked unhappy or happy to be there. Occasionally she would glance nervously over to where Anna was, the boisterous and disruptive laughter of the drunk young men along with their treatment of the younger woman clearly troubling her.
Anna for her part was still filling their ever emptying glasses, a large bulge and unsteady walking gate indicating where it was all going. Her pursed lips and a faint sheen of sweat across her brow, the tell-tale signs of someone in dire need of a break. But despite how she looked, it was nothing compared to Laura. The overly confident blonde now rocking in her seat, her bladder protruding through her tight dress and giving her the appearance of someone easily 5 months pregnant. Valorie couldn’t help but feel slightly sorry for her, but at the same time she had done this too herself. Caroline had warned her about boasting and she not headed her or Macey’s warnings.
Thinking of Macey she did a quick scan of the room but the chamber maid was no where to be seen, her patrons now seemed to be accompanied by the older seamstress from the sale who had also claimed to be a chamber lady, if she was remembering correctly.
“Valorie” a voice caught her off guard as she studied the room. Looking over the queen was looking at her, one of her hands beneath the table and beckoning for something. It took her a moment to realise but she was clearly indicating that she was going to use her, she was going to pee right here in the middle of the room surrounded by nobles. Caroline had said they would need to be discrete but this was something else.
Handing over the device she soon felt the rush of the queens pee beginning to enter her. For the most part Valorie had managed to ignore her need to pee so far, the two loads from the queen filling her substantially but not making her desperate enough to be worried. But now as it was forced to the forefront of her mind she couldn’t deny the pressure inside her bladder was getting to unbearable levels, and it didn’t seem as if the queen was planning on stopping any time soon. The hot liquid rushing through the device and pumping up her abdomen, the first light spasms of her muscles started as she desperately fought to keep her face calm and collected to anyone who looked their way. But as the queens pee tapered off a minute later that was easier said than done, her large load making her rapidly stretched muscles contract as they tried to force Valorie to empty herself right there and then.
Quiet laughter from beside her caused her to look left.
“Something funny?” The queen asked as Morgana and Geoffrey chuckled about something privately.
“Nothing your majesty” she replied, her face instantly sullen and looking towards the floor.
“Mmmmm” The queen said, clearly unimpressed by the apparent in-joke between the two of them, her eyes watching the chamber maid with some suspicion.
Thankfully as the first few courses were put out and time passed, Valorie found her body slowly reaching an aching equilibrium. Her bulging bladder now full and pressing down on her muscles painfully, but she still felt in control.
pushing the remnants of a half eaten pigeon pot pie slightly away from herself she was distracted by some loud chanting, two large bearded men chugging back large tankards of ale in an apparent race. It was a close race but as the victor upturned his tankard on his head, a small amount of ale dripping down his face another cheer went up.
How were these men allowed to behave like this was beyond Valorie, although from what she had heard from the conversations many were not lords until recently. The war having left many lands without one or given away as prizes or rewards for particularly brave warriors or commanders. It definitely seemed many of them would belong more on a battlefield than a diplomatic banquet such was this evening.
Continuing to watch the winner seemed to claim his prize, a chance at relieving himself. A reluctant and heavily laden Anna standing up and even at 100ft her bladder bulge was noticeable. The group having used her a number of times through the night, with one more load on its way as the heavy-set man connected himself in full view of anyone that happened to be looking their way. A deep grimace appearing on the brunette’s face almost as soon as he was connected, her bladder clearly pushed to its absolute limits as her hands cradled it.
As the moments passed her posture was changing almost constantly. The rush of liquid that went unseen to Valorie making the filling Anna lean more and more over as her bladder swelled even further. By the time the lengthy pee had finished she was almost doubled over, her face red and chest heaving as she battled with the contents of her body.
Inside her mind Anna was panicking, she could feel her muscles trembling as they had been for a while now, but this felt completely different. Unlike the spasms and contractions that had been rocking her body for what felt like half the day, these pulses seemed to be actively squeezing her bladder. Her whole abdomen contracting around it, trying desperately to squeeze it open so that it could relieve some of the monumental pressure inside it.
“Thanks mate, needed that!” The man said, before she felt a heavy impact on her back as the drunken man seemed to hit her like one of his warrior friends.
But for Anna this sudden and unexpected impact made her stumble and worse she felt a jet of her pent-up piss spray out and into her undergarments. Falling to her knees she desperately threw both her hands between her shaking thighs and somehow stemmed the flow from her aching bladder. But she knew, she didn’t have long. No matter what the appearance she needed to relieve herself now!
“Sorry love” The man said, offering her a hand that she took with a shaking one of her own.
“You alright” he asked, seemingly concerned his heavy handedness had actually injured her, somehow ignoring the giant ball of his own piss sticking out of her.
“I….” she started, her mind still overwhelmed by the burning sensation between her legs, an ungrateful bladder demanding she let it continue what it had started.
“Want me to kiss it better.” Another of the group joked, but she was too desperate to answer.
“Come on love, why don’t you come over here and I’ll make you forget all about the big bad man.” He continued, gently pulling the small woman along and guiding her over to him before tugging her slightly and causing her to fall directly onto his lap.
“doesn’t this feel better” he said suggestively.
“But I…..” she tried again, her face now burning hot as her body redoubled its efforts to make her lose control.
“First time, don't worry I’ll be gentle” the man sneered slightly, his hand going down between her legs that snapped shut around them. Ordinarily she would have slapped the man for even attempting this, but she couldn’t move without risking losing it all right in the middle of the halland worse in front of the queen.
“Please, Lord Argyll you don’t understand” she managed to whimper out.
“No need to be so formal, call me Lawrence.”
“Please you don’t understand…”
“Wow, look how wet she is for me.” He laughed, ignoring or misreading her plea.
“Im…Im…Im sorry I cant…” she whimpered as her body began to tremble on top of him, a deeply confused look on his face. But finally her bloated bladder could take it no longer, a second burst of urine escaping her control and flowing through his hand moments before the dam completely broke. A wave of pee flowing from her, soaking through the back of her dress and onto the lord beneath her.
“What are you, Oh my god!” He shouted, hastily standing and shoving the peeing woman from his lap and ungracefully onto the floor where a large puddle started to form around her.
As the room fell silent and all eyes turned towards Anna as a loud hiss echoed through the hall. The wide open space causing the noise to reverberate around the room and meaning there would be no mistaking what was going on. Hanging her head she felt her bladder still pulsing inside her as an ocean of pee continued to spill out of her and across the wooden flooring. A never-ending pee causing an ever-expanding puddle, those sitting at the same table as the lord who was hastily drying his trousers forced to move away or lift their feet as it flowed underneath them.
“Alright nothing to see here” Caroline said loudly as she marched over to Anna, forcefully picking her up and taking her slowly towards the servants’ quarters. A trail of pee still snaking its way down her slim legs and following them as the walked across the hall. A number of whispers starting up as peoples conversations soon resumed, although many now talking about what they had just seen.
The next couple of courses passed uneventfully, but as the fourth main course was placed in front of them and their glasses refilled once more a group slowly approached them. The group of elderly looking women all sharing the same uncomfortable and unsteady pace as they climbed the few steps to where the queen was seated.
“Your majesty, may we talk to your mother?” one asked quietly.
“Of course”The queen replied, looking away and back to her food now she knew she was not needed.
“Meredith, please. We have all tried to hold but it is not possible.” The front woman pleaded with the queen’s mother quietly.
“Please we do not want to disgrace you but we have no other option, we are not as strong as you” another added.
A strange look appeared on Lady Meredith’s face as her friends begged her to let them use a chamber lady. It had been clear this morning that they all shared her distain for using their servants, but as she had done earlier with Morgana they too were now reaching their limits. But she could not admit to it, to be the first of them to break and give in would be a stain on her reputation.
“I suppose, if you must and there is no other option.” She said, the group of her friends looking much happier now. “Although, there are few chamber ladies this evening and I’m not sure if you will be able to find a willing one this late.”
This statement caused a few glances to be exchanged between the noble women, who had not thought about that fact.
“Nonsense” the queen interrupted, carefully wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin.
Clicking twice towards a table below them “You there, servant” she said waving a hand and beckoning the woman towards her.
Slowly rising from her seat Laura couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp, her bladder troubling her greatly. With great difficulty she took the steps up to the queen at a crawl, her thighs tensing rhythmically as the group of nobles looked towards her.
“Your majesty” She said.
“It is good etiquette to curtsy when addressing a queen”
“Sorry your grace” taking a moment Laura steeled her reserve, tensing her entire body as she bent he knees and her legs were forced apart. A bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face as the queen watched on gleefully, enjoying every moment of her suffering.
“I’m sure between our wine thief here and Morgana they can handle all of you.” The queen said smiling. “If you both think you can handle the extra duties?” she added, looking at Morgana for a response.
“Of course your majesty” A forced smile appearing on her face, her eyes portraying the slight worry she had about this idea. If these women had been holding it the entire evening there was no way these would be small quantities they were about to take in. Although looking at how Laura was standing, she was unsure the overconfident blonde would be able to take one let alone two or three.
“Well then, that settles it.” Thinking for a moment, the queen was clearly contemplating something. “You three” she said pointing to the three on the left including the two that had spoken. “Go with Her, while you two can use Morgana.”
The fact that she only had to take two made Morgana sigh with relief, she could manage that many.
Handing her device over under the table the two elderly patrons quickly got the gist of what she was suggesting, it took them a few moments to overcome the worry of relieving themselves while stood in front of the queen but their desperation soon overcame it.
Meanwhile Laura was doing the same, stood slightly to the side of the table the first of the women grabbed her device and was soon relieving themselves into her aching bladder. Clutching herself with both hands she could feel the extra liquid causing more and more spasms to rock her body as her maxed out bladder was forced to contain even more. Grimacing she fought the urge to yank out her device, even as the strong pulses intensified and pain raked across her bloating abdomen.
Morgana had been right, these were not small bladdered women and as the first of them finished up she was starting to worry about how full she was getting. Each moment and each new patron was bringing her closer and closer to her limit, but in a strange way as she watched Laura’s bulging bladder forced to grow even larger it gave her hope that she still had plenty of room left to faithfully serve her patron.
As the third of Laura’s patrons attached themselves she was seeing stars, an unbearable level of discomfort causing her to squirm even though it did nothing for her. With white knuckles she grabbed the edge of the table, her nails digging into the wood with a vice like grip as she tried not to scream out in pain, her bladder feeling as if it was tearing itself apart. But it wasn’t the only thing, a loud ripping noise emanated from her side as the size of her over inflated bladder began to force the seams of her dress apart. The expensive clothing being destroyed the quantity of liquid she was somehow containing inside her body.
Grunting with each breath it felt like every drop of this last woman’s bladder was boiling inside her, burning up her bladder as sweat began to form all over her body. Yet even in this state she looked towards the woman she was so driven to beat, Morgana. Despite her confident posture she could see the cracks forming in her foe’s appearance, her rigid posture and occasional grimaces giving the game away as she watched the woman using her finish up. Panting, red faced, sweating and with a dress coming apart around her body Laura’s focus was solely on her adversarial, ignorant of the strange glances and looks she was getting from those around her.
“I must say Morgana, I admire your strength.” Geoffrey said as the two women left the stage much more relieved. The spoken admiration causing the queens face to turn a red with anger as she stared daggers into the back of her servant’s head. She had noted the disgust of some of the others when the previous chamber ladies had slowly lost control and now it had given the perfect way to turn Geoffrey against Morgana. She would show him what true strength and power looked like.
“You there, we need more wine” she called over a servant who stood in front of the queen, her own glass already full. Picking it up she chugged it back, putting the large goblet back down quickly.
“Perhaps Morgana and Valorie would like some as well.” She said, indicating to their glasses that had remained empty throughout the feast. The servant nodding and pouring some into the three of theirs, Valorie and Morgana exchanging glances but reluctantly accepting the wine. Each picking up the glass and taking a few small sips.
Stepping gingerly off the stage Laura’s mind was lost, completely flooded with signals from her body as her abdomen twitched, her muscles almost writhing within her.
“Where have you been?” an angry comment came through her desperate haze, looking up she recognised the man shouting at her as her Patron, the one she was supposed to be serving.
“Ugh…I….I…” she tried to form a word between her heavy breathing, her ample chest rising and falling rhythmically with her eyes wide.
“Dear lord woman, what is wrong with you…. Now connect us so I may relieve myself.” Her patron commanded, ignoring the mass pushing out of her and the multitude of signs that she was on the very edge of her control.
With a shaking hand she limply held up the device of her torment. Quickly the large man connected himself where they stood, his urgency easy to see and soon a link was made and pee surged out of him and into the rocking Laura.
“Oooohhh” she began to whine quietly as her lord pushed her past her breaking point. A quiet complaint that soon escalated to a whale of pain and discomfort as her bladder was truly pushed past its physical limit. Clutching her monstrous bulge as more and more of her dress started to tear she could feel the mass of liquid quivering inside her. All eyes in the room now turning to watch the wailing woman, the spectacle nothing like anyone had seen before. Moments passed as she still fought against he inevitable, even her patron knew what was about to happen but unwilling to wait or help her he simply bore down on his muscles. If this was the last time he would get to empty himself he was dam well going to make the most of it and empty himself out as much as possible.
Feeling the flow increase her bladder became all but numb as she screamed at a pitch too high for anyone to hear, her head falling back as the silent scream left her. Moments later her bladder was done, it could literally take no more and with a final pulse it managed to squeeze the small device from itself. Her contracting muscles removing the end of the device that was still filling her so brutally, but now with nothing standing in its way her bladder exploded between her legs. An avalanche of piss streamed out of her at a ferocious volume and speed, splattering like torrential rain against the hard wood. The relief was pure bliss, after hours of torment of taking peoples bladders, of drinking a tables worth of wine it was over. Groaning this time in pleasure her whole body shuddered as streams of hot piss shot down her legs, her light blue dress darkening all the way around her mid-section and down her legs.
For the second time that night a hushed silence fell on the room, just the roaring from Laura’s accident and her laboured breaths filled the room. Small talk and jokes paused as everyone witnessed the explosion of piss that was still racing its way across the floor in all directions at the foot of the queens table. The blonde-haired woman at its centre staggering slightly from side to side as the thunderous stream between her legs continued.
The only movement in the room was from her patron lord Wellington, who was being forced to take more and more steps backwards as the tides of his own consumption flooded towards him. Almost everyone else was barely able to comprehend the speed and amount of liquid the small woman was producing, her puddle already larger than Anna’s and she showed no signs of stopping.
For almost two minutes the ocean inside her bladder continued to explode out of her and into the ever growing puddle beneath her. But finally, it came to an end, the room still silent as everyone stared at the drenched woman. Moments passed as people stood by awkwardly, some exchanging glances between themselves. But eventually Caroline made her way slowly over to Laura, saying nothing but guiding the still wobbling woman towards the servant’s chambers. Another of the chamber ladies she had selected this morning had failed and she prayed she would be the last.
“Someone clean up this mess” The queen shouted, a number of servants rushing to get enough equipment to deal with the monumental puddle that coated almost half the room.
“You see, this is why I was against this idea Keira” the queens mother said, shaking her head slightly.
“Just need to find more like Morgana here” Geoffrey said proudly.
“Quite, well Im going to go and speak to Caroline about this anyway” Lady Meredith said, standing and waving away the next plate of food heading in her direction.
It was then that Valorie remembered the queens mother had not relieved herself, but she was looking far less desperate now than she had a couple of hours earlier. Had she relieved herself like them but privately when she gone with Morgana, or had Morgana….
Turning to look at her friend she saw the tall woman sitting rigidly, her eyes closed for a moment with a hand between her legs. Next to her the prince seemed to be watching her with some interest, his own shoulders sagging slightly as he looked to be relaxing. Was he peeing into her right now?
Sure enough a few seconds later his hand fell beneath the table as he apparently detached himself from her, Morganas own hands resting on the table now. Had he started using her while Laura was also wetting herself, that seemed like a cruel and unusual punishment for Morgana to go through. But maybe he was just at his limit and Laura’s accident was too much for him? Beside her the queen seemed to be paying the price for the extra wine too, her own legs fidgeting slightly. But if she needed to go why would she simply not use her.
Over the next two courses she watched her Patrons movements become more and more pronounced, yet she made no move to use her. All the while she kept drinking more and more wine, making sure that her and Geoffrey’s glasses never ran dry even more than before. If there was the slightest hint that such a thing could occur, she would wave over a servant for more and making Valorie wonder what she was doing.
Having watched so many of the others lose control from her seat at the top, Valorie was starting to feel the pressure too. Sitting with her legs pressed tightly together she was all to aware of the wine making its way through her system, why did the queen make her and Morgana drink.
At the centre of the table Keira was starting to feel desperate now, ordinarily she would have gone a while ago but she didn’t want to waste this. She couldn’t believe the guile of her servant, how could a common woman like Morgana think she could have a chance with prince Geoffrey. Maybe she did have the posture of a noble woman, but she was nothing more than a chamber maid. She had seen the look of disgust on his face when the other maids had lost control, and as infallible as he seemed to think Morgana was she couldn’t last forever. Sitting proudly with him fawning over her, she needed to be reminded of her place. She was a servant not a lady and she would not mess up this marriage for her or the country.
Puffing out her cheeks she grabbed her glass of wine and tipped it back, once again emptying it and thanking her late father for giving her a tolerance to such drinks in his drunken ways. But with one final drop she could take the pressure in her bladder no more.
Reaching under the table her hand slowly searched for what she was looking for. Valorie’s device was easy to find, it was where she had left it several courses ago. But that wasn’t the one she wanted, having found her servants her hand wandered left, towards Morgana. Her hand soon made contact with the other servants device and she slowly manoeuvred it past her legs and towards Keira’s own aching bladder. Attaching it between her legs she took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly through her nose as she sighed with relief.
Watching in the reflection of her silverware she revelled in the look of surprise on her targets face, surprise at the immense and instant discomfort that overcame her as an unknown person relieved themselves into her without warning. Quickly Morgana had looked towards the lord, but had soon realised it wasn’t her Patron that was emptying such a large quantity of pee into her bladder. Glancing down Morgana had clearly seen the way her tube was bending, figuring out that it was indeed the queen who was emptying into her bladder, yet she could do nothing about it.
Biting her lips together Morgana managed not to grunt out in discomfort as the queen filled her, but she couldn’t help but bend forwards as her brow furrowed. Inside her Morganas bladder was stretching considerably further than it had previously, the queen’s bladder far larger than that of his lordship. The muscles beneath her stomach were starting to throb as her heavy bladder began to push on them relentlessly. Each second that ticked by adding to the pressure she was already feeling inside herself, but she couldn’t say anything, it was the queen!
Glancing down Keira couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of Morgana’s slender hands, she was pressing her palms heavily into the table as her fingers curled and dug themselves into the woodwork. It was clear she was nearing the end of her ability to act with her fake decorum, and Keira had plenty left inside her. Baring down on her bladder she increased the speed of her pee, causing a soft suppressed squeal to escape from Morgana.
“Is everything ok?” Geoffrey asked, his concern for the servant only fulling the queens distain for her as she squeezed as hard as she could.
“Uhuh yes, sorry” Morgana blushed, her hands falling to her lap as she did her best to control herself and not show too much discomfort in front of him. But a few moments later another groan escaped her as the pressure inside her peaked for a moment, causing her to lean over slightly more. Her bladder was pulsing madly inside her as the queen’s massive bladder kept forcing more and more into her tired and aching one.
But to the queen’s dismay, she soon found herself running out. Her bladder running dry before she could crack Morgana’s control. But given the noises coming out of her, it at least meant she could look at the woman so intent on ruining her life.
Studying her pale complexion, she could almost see the blood rushing to her cheeks as the black haired woman blushed deeply. Her nostrils flaring and small twitches at the corners of her eyes giving away the extent of the battle going on beneath the surface. She was close to cracking, Keira knew it, but annoyingly she found herself completely relieved and with little of the evening left she was not sure if she could drink enough for a repeat performance. She would need to find another way to best her foe. But then a slight shuffle from her own Chamber maid, whatever her name was, caught her attention before a smile grew on her face. She now knew what she had to do.
“You there servant, go and get some more wine” The queen waved at a small dark haired servant as she hurriedly walked past the bottom of their table.
“Yes your majesty” she carefully curtsyed, her thighs curiously tensing as she separated her legs.
A few moments later she approached the table with a large jug of wine, the sight making the queen smile wickedly.
“Valorie, why don’t you have some more wine.” She said, finally remembering the chamber maids name.
“I uhhh” Valorie didn’t know how to respond, one glass wouldn’t be too bad would it?
“No need to be so nervous, you are my servant now so why not try some more.” The queen continued, her expression far more friendly than she had seen before. In fact this might be the first time she had even used her name. But without waiting for a reply, the queen gestured for the servant to fill her glass.
Looking up Valorie recognised the serving girl as one of those who had failed the test earlier, what was her name…Kelly?
Kelly herself had been about to make a mad dash for the door she had seen the others come back in from after those that had passed had relieved themselves. But walking past the queens table had been a mistake, one she hoped would not be fatal to her dignity even as she felt her muscles burning between her legs.
Pouring the wine into the glass she noticed the woman in front of her squirming in her seat, she didn’t know what was going on but it seemed she was not in need of any more to drink.
That was a sentiment that Valorie couldn’t have agreed with more, her bladder pulsing faster at the sound of the wine hitting the glass on the table. As Kelly finished pouring the wine she looked up at the queen who gestured with her hand that she should drink. Picking up the glass she began to down the wine, the once sweet and fragrant drink tasting far more bitter this time.
Tipping her cup back she knew from the way the queen was looking at her she was expecting her to finish it. With just a few drops remaining she lowered it from her face, her bladder already feeling fuller even though there was no way it could have been.
As soon as the cup hit the table the queen spun her finger in a small circle to the waitress, indicating to refill her glass.
“More?” She asked, despite already filling her cup.
Sitting in silence Valorie knew it was a rhetorical question, she wanted her to drink it no matter what she said.
Reaching her hand out to the refilled glass she took it and began to drink down the new wine, the cool liquid flowing down her throat uneasily and pooling in her stomach where it would surely filter into her bloated bladder by the end of the feast.
Once again she drained her glass, placing it on the table and hoping that what ever the queen was doing was over. But to her dismay the queen motioned for it to be filled again by the waitress and quickly more wine flowed into her cup.
Reaching out a hand she hesitated for a moment, looking up at the queen and almost pleading with her eyes for this to end before it was too late.
“Keep drinking” the queen said, leaning towards her slightly.
“But I…” Valorie started, but her thought of talking back just seemed to make the queen look even angrier.
“Keep drinking, you wouldn’t want to refuse the generosity of the queen, would you?”
Again, Valorie knew not what to say, simply picking up the glass and putting it to her lips. But she wasn’t the only one suffering, a soft whimper from Kelly going unnoticed as the two other women locked eyes.
The sloshing liquid was playing havoc on both their bladders, the endless stream of drinks the queen was forcing Kelly to pour into the large chalice making them squirm almost equally. Valorie’s hand was now resting on her thigh as she dug her nails into it, trying to use anything, even pain to distract herself from the unending need to pee that would only get much worse once everything the queen was forcing to drink entered her bladder.
As the fourth glass was poured Kelly was unable to focus on anything but the rushing of the wine, the purple liquid leaving the heavy jug and splashing noisily into the metal cup beneath it. The swirling liquid reminding her of the contents of her bladder that had been filled beyond her comfortable capacity in the garden, her legs moving restlessly beneath her long dress that she hoped was concealing her desperate movements.
As the cup filled once again, she pressed herself slightly into the hard-wooden table, its edge at just the right height for her crotch. It was embarrassing, but she was too far gone to care and wetting herself next to the queen would be so much worse. Plus, she seemed preoccupied with forcing Valorie to drink her weight in wine. Looking into the chamber ladies’ eyes she could see the toll all the liquid was having on her, whatever the queen was doing was clearly working. Had her friend done something to offend the queen, was this a punishment of some sort?
“Seems like you could do with another, isn’t that right Valorie” The queen said, indicating to the cup that had run empty barely a second early.
Whimpering softly Valorie had no choice but to nod, her eyes looking pleadingly at the queen and then to Kelly. Surely the vase was running out, she had to have drunk almost its whole contents by now, the heavy and sickly weight now sitting in her stomach uneasily.
Looking down there was still a third of the jug left, but even as she finished pouring another glass she knew she could not wait for the poor woman sat in front of her to finish another three glasses, even if Valorie could do it without losing control of her bladder. Kelly’s legs were beginning to tremble more and more as spasms ripped through her body, her tiring muscles burning like she had lit a fire in her underwear. Her defences weakening by the second as she stood here, feet from the most powerful person in the country. Kelly knew she had to get out of here, she had been moments from wetting herself before she had been sent for the wine.
Letting out a small grunt and crossing one leg over the other Kelly felt the first momentary loss of control. A quick burst of wetness spreading through her undergarments, her defences had cracked and she wasn’t sure the rest of her bladders contents was far behind. Watching as Valorie finished her fifth glass she had to take a chance.
“Im…Im afraid we are out, I can get another one if you wish.” She said unsteadily, hoping the queen would not question her or look in the jug. But thankfully it seemed she was still more interested in her own maid than in Kelly.
“Be gone” she said, waving a hand dismissively and smiling at Valorie.
Not needing to be told again the serving girl almost fled the stage, a series of wet droplets following her path for anyone that was looking closely enough to notice.
As Valorie sat there, she could feel the contents of both her stomach and bladder swirling inside her. Breathing through her nose she was doing her best to fight off the nausea that was starting to set in, the quantity of wine sitting in her stomach taking its toll as the next plate of food was placed next to her.
By the 10th course Valorie was rocking in her seat gently as the pressure inside her bladder was quickly becoming unbearable, not helped by the queen eyeing her every move. Putting her hands on her knees she moved them in slow circles, hoping to sooth the worry that was creeping in about being able to last the night. What was the queen playing at, she knew she was desperate and yet she said nothing while watching her like a hawk.
Whimpering slightly Valorie gave in, sliding a hand between her legs and pressing against her tiring muscles. Looking up it was clear the queen was amused, another wicked smile plastered across it. Was this what she wanted?
“Well its seems my chamber lady is at her wits end”, The queen said loudly, all eyes on the table turning to her and then staring at the desperate Valorie. “perhaps I can find you some way of relief.” She finished raising her eyebrows, but Valorie knew it surely not that simple.
“Morgana, you seem to be handling it well, im sure you would be able to help your queen yes. Do you want to do your duty, or are you unable?” The queen said accusingly, locking eyes with the woman she was so fiercely attacking.
Morgana was unsure what to say, she had been minding her own business and now she was called out for not doing her duty? Looking over at Valorie it was clear that the young woman was about to wet herself, but she didn’t feel too far behind her in that matter.
“Go on, or do you want to wet yourself” She aimed that one at Valorie.
Standing unsteadily, Valorie felt the weight of her bladder moving inside her. The almost solid weight of pee pushing heavily on her muscles that were tiring after a day of being filled past her comfortable limits. Walking slowly, she rounded the table until she was in front of it and opposite her friend who herself was squirming in her seat.
Looking at Morgana she could see the worry in her eyes for the first time, the confidence behind her emerald gems wavering slightly. Morgana had seen how much the queen had forced her to drink and was clearly unsure of her ability to hold the evenings worth of guests and what Valorie had been forced to consume herself.
“Im not sure this is a good idea” Valorie said reluctantly, turning to look at the queen and hope she would reconsider
“Are you questioning your queen! Who do you think you are! Now, connect yourself to that woman so that you may relieve yourself and so may I.” she demanded
With no other option Valorie looked at Morgana apologetically, simply getting an uncertain nod in response. Handing over the other end of her Catheter she started to wonder if maybe she could release just enough to take the queens load, then the queen would never have to know. But surely the queen would notice the lack of flow, maybe if she could squeeze and slow it down enough, she could…
“What exactly is going on here Keira?” A voice shouted from behind Valorie, Lady Meredith’s sudden appearance startling many of them.
“Mother…my chamber lady needs to relieve herself so I have asked Morgana to take her.”
“Keira, you really think I haven’t noticed the glances, the looks, plying poor Valorie with her weight in wine and filling Morgana yourself in spite of the fact you have your own chamber maid.”
“I….dont know…I didn’t…How do…” The queen stammered, her face flushed as she was caught in her web of lies and actions. “Why does it matter to you.”
“Because I have already stood by while one of my family abuses her people and I will not do it again. I abdicated the throne for the good of the people as any decent queen would. I even let you entertain the idea of the chamber ladies, but this is not that my dear. These are your people and yes they are your servants but they are not your play things to do with as you wish.” She finished, a strong finger pointing accusingly at her daughter.
“They are just servants” the queen shouted back, standing up at the table to confront her mother who was berating her.
“And yet tonight they have shown more self-control and decorum than you, their queen.”
“How dare you!” Keira shot back, obviously offended at the mere suggestion of what her mother was saying.
“How dare I, you disagree then?” Her mother asked.
“Yes!”
“Well then, if you have such great control. Show me!” Lady Meredith said, her voice returning to a normal level yet still reverberating powerfully around the room. “If you want to prove you are better than just a servant, do their job.”
“What!” the queen asked, appalled by the idea.
“You think of yourself above them, show me and the room how powerful you are.”
“Yes, I will!” The queen shouted back, doubling down on her defiance as the room fell silent once again.
“Go on then, Valorie why don’t you go since you are the queens chamber lady it seems fitting.” Lady Meredith said, turning towards the servant as she danced desperately on the opposite side of the table to the queen who was still standing.
“I…” Valorie stuttered, her head confused by what was going on, was she supposed to pee into the queen now?”
“Come on then!” Keira shouted arrogantly.
Slowly walking over to her she hooked up the device, the whole room now watching. It took Valorie a moment to calm her quivering bladder enough to let go but as she opened the flood gates her knees almost buckled beneath her as she tasted relief.
“Oh god” she groaned breathlessly, her body sagging as pee burst forwards, rushing along the device and into the stone-faced queen. Standing tall with her arms folded across her chest, she stared defiantly at her chamber lady. Piss thundering between the two of them as the nights worth of royal pee was suddenly rewinding itself into the queen.
As the time wore on and she continued to fill the noblewoman stood in front of her, she could see the cracks starting to appear in her Queen. Flaring nostrils, clenching hands and a slight flinch every time she blinked were breaking the queens otherwise stalwart appearance. Even as the pee entered its third minute, she remained strong, the room still silent except for Valorie’s heavy breathing. Looking down from the queens face she could see her bladder stretching out, the royals expensive dress being force outwards as her pee thundered into the bloating woman.
By minute four it was even surprising Valorie, she would never have thought she could hold so much, her bladder was far larger than even she could have imagined.
“Oh god!” The queen groaned, a mirror of Valorie’s earlier statement as finally even the façade of pretending to be fine shattered in an instant.
“Please stop, I….I don’t think I can…” The queen stuttered, doubling over and reaching a hand out towards her mother, pleading with her.
“Keep going” Lady Meredith said, but at this point it wasn’t even up to Valorie. Her muscles were far too weak to even attempt to stop, she was in this for the full duration and so was the queen.
“HHuuHH, HHuuuHH, HHuuuHH, the queen breathed animalistically, staring at the floor as her bladder swelled past anything she had ever felt before. Her servant’s capacity easily surpassing that of her own.
“Ahhhh” The queen cried again, her arms wrapping around her abdomen as it was pumped fuller and fuller, her face red and sweating profusely as it stretched. Groaning again and again the discomfort and pressure inside her was too much, she couldn’t bear it any longer. Overwhelmed she fell to her knees as guttural grunts began to emanate from her as she desperately clutched at her abdomen, her eyes wild and pained.
“I cant!” she yelled, the confession echoing off the wall for all to hear.
In a flash her hand went through her dress and pulled the tormenting device from herself as her dress started to darken instantly.
Groaning even louder in relief it reverberated for almost 10 seconds as her bladder let loose a torrent of royal waters into her clothing. Dark streaks appearing on her silver dress as the fabric became saturated, steam rising from her wet legs as pee snaked its way down her slender calves and began to pool around her expensive shoes.
Unable to close off the flow Valorie continued, her stream flowing out of the end of the tube but luckily it seemed no one was watching her as the queen continued to groan in the middle of the room.
Slumping back the queen ended up sat in her own puddle, her already sodden dress shining as streams and ripples of her continuing pee ran over the silk material as it clung to her wet legs.
“I…I…just couldn’t” She whispered into the still silent room which was witnessing queens accident. The only sounds those of the hiss of her pee shooting through her undergarments and a gentle trickling noise as if a babbling brook had formed in the middle of the room.
“No you couldn’t” The queens mother said, looking down on her daughter as the puddle of her own making spread out all around her, as it had many of the other chamber maids she had failed to prepare for this evening.
“You have my apologise ladies and gentlemen, but the feast is concluded. If you would like to retire to your rooms, the servants will show you to your rooms.” The queens mother announced to the dumbstruck crowd gazing upon the sullen queen wetting herself like a small child.
But quickly the servants began to move the crowd out, only those stood around the top table remaining.
“Keira, it was… interesting to see you again” Geoffrey said, standing above her on the step and out of her still expanding puddle.
“Geoffrey” she said, looking pleadingly up at the tall man.
“Now, come along sister. I think we should find you some relief” he said, sis arm linking with a tall black haired beauty whose own bladder could easily be seen bulging out of her tight dress.
“Sis…Sister” The queen said, the realisation too much for her water logged brain to comprehend.
“Well, Morgana’s my half half sister. I take it you didn’t ask for her name?” He continued.
“I…but…”the queen started
“Goodnight your majesty” He said, stepping over the mess she was still making on the floor. Bowing deeply to the queen’s mother as he gently kissed her hand. “Always a pleasure”
“Valorie, would you be so kind as to show me the courtyard you and the others used earlier, I think I would like to use it now.” Morgana said, a sense of urgency in her voice but her poise as lady like as ever.
“Of course, right this way.” Valorie said, not quite sure if given the revelation of her family if she was supposed to now call Morgana a Lady
“Si…Sister” Keira said again, her head dropping as she finally finished peeing.
The end!
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I really hope you enjoyed this story.
It was good fun to write and a big thank you to FoxLover for trusting me with his story / setting.
I’d love to know people’s thoughts, good or bad!
Thanks for reading, |
The sign was simple: Do not use me if anyone else is in the room. The problem was that the sign was on the toilet—the only toilet in ΠΣΣ House.
Zephyr bounced on her toes a little. Like I could have, even without the sign! Damn her pee-shyness. She was much, much better at holding it these days, thanks to Amanda’s training and Ashley as inspiration—but she hadn’t been expecting to have to hold it first thing after she woke up. And so far there hadn’t been one moment when the bathroom was unoccupied by someone. Even if it was just Sophie doing her hair, Zeph knew she wouldn’t be able to pee with the audience.
At least everyone else who hasn’t gotten up yet will be in the same boat!
Standing in a bathroom she couldn’t use was driving her crazy. Zeph ran downstairs to see who else was awake.
Kelly was in the kitchen, making smoothies. “Morning, sunshine! Want some breakfast?”
Zephyr hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” Kelly asked.
Zeph laughed a little. “Just the sign on the toilet…”
“What sign?”
“You didn’t put it there?”
“Nope. What sign?”
“‘Don’t use me if anyone else is in the room.’”
Kelly laughed. “That one. I guess we haven’t done that one lately, have we?”
“No, we haven’t,” Amanda said. She was coming downstairs, already dressed for class. Zeph was decidedly not: she wasn’t wearing anything other than panties. “Not my favorite, especially coming at me with no warning.”
“Oh, come on, Mandy. It’s always fun. The delaying tactics, the dancing in the hallway…”
“Whatever. I’d call a yellow light on this if I couldn’t hold it—and so should you, Z.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Zephyr said. “I can’t pee if anyone’s watching, remember?”
“You managed the other month when we brought you into the house.”
“Yeah, when you literally made me drink gallons and then Sophie squeezed me.”
“Let me know if you want help dealing with that,” Amanda said.
“Yeah, or me,” Kelly added. “There’s got to be a way to get you over that shyness.”
“I’d love to try,” Zeph said, “but unless you’ve got a way that would work right now, it doesn’t help me this morning.”
“I wouldn’t have time anyway,” Amanda said. “I’m headed for campus.”
“Early for class, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I have a presentation to get ready for—and besides, I can use the bathroom there! Later, ladies.”
As Amanda left, Zephyr asked Kelly, “Have you seen Ashley?”
“Out back, working out.”
“Thanks.”
“You two doing good?”
“We’re doing real well, thanks!”
Zephyr stepped out the back door of the kitchen and into the back yard. This was a squished little lawn and a patio underneath the deck outside the upstairs bedrooms, with tall fences around it. Zeph didn’t even think about walking outside next to naked; the fences gave pretty complete privacy.
Ashley had set up a home gym on the patio, and she was doing shoulder presses with hand weights as Zeph walked over. “Hey, cutie,” Ash said. “Just in time—do you mind spotting for me? I want to up the weight on my bench press.”
“No problem!”
Ashley finished her set and switched both position and weights. As she did, she asked, “Did I wake you up this morning? I tried to slip out quietly.”
“I think you did—but it’s okay. I would have gotten up soon anyway.”
“Okay, whew.”
“Just one thing wrong. C’mere and kiss me good morning.”
“I knew I was forgetting something.”
It wasn’t their most romantic kiss—Ash already slightly sweaty and with a forty-five pound dumbbell in each hand—but it was still pretty sexy.
“Aren’t you cold?” Ashley said.
“No more than you are.”
“I’m working out, I’m not cold at all. But you look chilly.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your nipples say otherwise.”
“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your form?”
“Shut up and spot me, cutie.”
“Oh, am I distracting you with my sexiness?”
“Nope,” Ash said as she powered through the next lift. “And—always…”
“Should I cover up a little?”
“Fuck no… how else… am I… supposed… to finish… this set?”
“Huh?”
Ashley did her last rep and set the weights down. “Distraction, yes. But motivation, too.”
Zephyr leaned over for a kiss. Ashley came up to meet her halfway.
“All right, time for squats,” Ash said, not sounding too excited.
“You got this.”
“It’s not that. I can do the squats. Doing them while I’ve got to pee, though—that’s something else.”
“You haven’t peed yet?”
“You saw the sign, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
Ashley shrugged and grinned.
“Who wrote it, do you think?”
“Well, go down the list of suspects. Kelly?”
“She says no.”
“Amanda?”
“Definitely not.”
“Kari?”
“Not awake yet. Same with Bella, I think.”
“So it’s either you, me, or Sophie. Who do you think?”
“Not me. So I’d say it’s 10% you or 90% Sophie.”
“Definitely Sophie. All right, I’ve stalled long enough…” And Ash picked up the heavy dumbbells and started her squat routine. Instantly she winced. “That’s—hard.”
Zeph crossed her legs in sympathy.
At the fourth rep Ashley gritted her teeth, and at the sixth she swore softly, and at the seventh she swore loudly. She dropped the weights and grabbed her crotch with both hands. Zephyr stepped closer, one hand stretched out, the other squeezed into a fist.
“I’m all right,” Ash said. “Just leaked a little, that’s all.”
Z, fighting back a sympathy leak, laid a supportive hand on Ash’s bare shoulder. Ashley tensed up.
“Sorry,” Zeph said, jerking her hand back.
“I’m fine,” Ash said, curtly. “Fine.”
“Do you want me out of your way?” Zeph asked.
“Whatever.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Zeph walked back inside. Kelly was still making breakfast smoothies, this time for Bella.
“Morning, Bella,” Zeph said, trying to shake Ash’s anger out of her mind. “How’d you handle it?”
“Handle what?”
“The sign… oh. There’s a sign on the toilet that says ‘Don’t use me when anyone else is around.’”
“Oh, is that what it said?” Bella said. “I didn’t notice it until I leaned back.”
“Whoops,” Kelly said. “Well, in that case your forfeit is explaining how you would have handled that challenge, if you’d know.”
“Held it,” Bella said promptly. “I can do 24 hours without too much trouble these days.”
Kelly laughed. “Right. I should have known.”
“What challenge?” asked a sleepy voice. Kari had just come out of the Bunkroom, wearing a thin t-shirt and her pajama pants.
“We’re apparently doing the ‘Don’t use the toilet if anyone’s in the bathroom’ challenge again,” Kelly answered.
Kari rubbed her eyes, clearly only barely awake. “Okay.”
“Want your smoothie?” Kelly asked.
“’N a minute. Gotta pee.” And she walked upstairs.
“Sophie hasn’t come down yet, has she?” Zeph asked.
“Nope,” Kelly said with a grin. “But I’m guessing Kari will be back down in a minute…”
This proved accurate. Kari stumbled down the steps with a hand pressed into the crotch of her pink pajamas. “How long has Sophie been in there?” she asked.
“Since before I woke up,” Zeph said. “Which was fifteen, twenty minutes ago…”
Kari looked panicked. “And she can take hours…”
“Especially if she’s deliberately taking her time,” Kelly said.
Kari groaned.
“Want that smoothie?” Kelly asked with a grin.
Kari’s eyes got wide. “No way.”
Zephyr wasn’t sure how to feel about Kari’s blatant desperation. The girl was ace, after all. And on top of Ashley’s discomfort, Z couldn’t decide to get turned on or not. But her fingers crept to her own crotch—in part to hold back her own morning pee, but only in part.
Kari groaned again.
“It just says not to use the toilet,” Kelly helpfully suggested. “The sink’s right here. Or the back yard.”
Kari’s legs were double-crossed now. “I’m such a heavy sleeper,” she muttered. “Sometimes I don’t wake up until I’m nearly going already.”
“There are other ways…”
“And waste it?” Kari said.
“In your pajamas, though?”
“It’s laundry day anyway,” Kari muttered, bent double.
“Well, suit yourself—” Kelly said, but the “s” of “self” was lost in a much louder hiss.
Kari’s pajamas were so thin that it barely made a wet spot—her stream just powered straight through. Since she was bent over, it sprayed all over the side of the fridge and ran down in rivulets.
“Damn, girl!” Bella said.
“I’ll clean it up,” Kari said softly, still talking into her knees, still pissing. Another groan escaped her—a totally different kind.
“Oh, no problem, sweetie,” Kelly said. “You do you.”
Zephyr suddenly realized she had the choice of getting out of there or getting wet herself—one way or another. She hurried back outside.
Ashley was racking the weights. “Hey,” she said. “Sorry I snapped earlier.”
“It’s okay,” Z said, totally distracted. Her bladder was hollering for one thing, her clit for something else…
“What’s up?” Ash said.
Zeph stepped close, not much minding that her girlfriend was reeking of sweat. “Kari just wet herself in there,” she said. “And I gotta go bad—but I’m kinda getting turned on…”
Ashley smiled. “Well, I’m about to go hop in the shower, which is where I’m gonna pee. But if you’re still all hot and bothered by the time I get out—well, I don’t have to be at class for an hour.”
Zeph nodded. “Yes. Yes, please.”
“You got it. I saw Amanda leave, right? We can use her room.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You okay?”
“I really gotta go all of a sudden.”
“Come with me?” A whispered.
“I can’t, remember?”
“Even if I can’t tell when you’re going? In the shower I wouldn't be able to see.”
“…Maybe not. We can try it sometime. But I can’t risk it right now. I can’t wait.”
“Mmm, neither can I,” Ash said, “when you put it that way.” She kissed Zeph’s hair, then ran a finger down Z’s jaw, her neck, around a nipple, down to the waistband of Z’s panties. Ash snapped that waistband (Zeph shivered as the strap hit her bladder)—and then stepped inside.
When Ashley was gone, Zeph looked around quickly. She felt like she had just another few seconds, but she knew she could hold it if she had to. She just didn’t want to. She wanted to let it all out, then jump into bed with her girlfriend. But where?
Well, the lawn, obviously. She just had to be out of sight of the kitchen…
She ducked around the side of the house, tugged down her panties, and let out a huge sigh of relief. Her sigh was bigger than her piss, actually. Clearly her body just didn’t like waiting in the mornings! At least she was a bit better off than Kari…
She leaned back against the house for a minute, picturing what Kari had done, and what Ashley had been doing. And she had her panties down, so it was only natural to touch herself. Just for a moment… then another moment…
Then she pulled up her underwear and ran back inside. Ashley would be waiting.
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Hey everyone. Been a while. But I'm back!
Stories will trickle out (heh) when I can get them done. But I hope this serves as a decent re-introduction. If you need reminders, read Season 1 here: Zephyr Moves In
Oh! And there's a side-story with almost nothing omo-related at all, just Zeph and Ash having fun. Would anyone like to read it? And if so, should I post it here, even without any omo content?
(Edits: added link, fixed tags)
Edited August 19, 2020 by Weasel
(see edit history) |
Chapter 1
Jess glanced up from her notes at the clock above her professor's head to see that there were about 10 minutes left in class. About 3 minutes less than when she had last checked. She tried to push the time out of her mind and focus on taking quality notes, but she certainly found herself a bit distracted. She briefly glanced at the empty large iced coffee sitting on the desk in front of her and tried again to focus on the lecture.
A few more minutes passed and Jess again found herself losing focus again. She was having a hard time thinking of anything other than her quite urgent need to visit the bathroom. She was certainly regretting sucking down the 32oz iced coffee that was not sitting empty in front of her. She thought back to the last time she had seen a toilet, almost 3 hours ago in her dorm just before she had showered and gotten ready for what was just her second day of college classes. She had actually needed to pee just a tiny bit as soon as she had sat down in class, but it didn't really start to distract her until about 2 hours in. For the past 20 or so minutes, she silently debated getting up and leaving the lecture hall. Gone were the days of having to raise her hand and hope to find a high school teacher in a forgiving mood, she was free to leave her lecture whenever she needed to.
If only it were that simple. Jess was sat in the dead center of a row of about 30 students, and there was no real way for her to get up and leave without causing a somewhat major disruption. Everyone in the 300 seat lecture hall would be staring at the pretty college freshman as she ran off to take a pee with just 25 minutes left in the lecture, and as she returned a few minutes later clearly quite relieved. Jess pushed the thought out of her mind, she'd certainly needed to go worse, she could hold it for another 5 minutes no problem.
Finally, Jess heard the sound of her classmates packing up to leave the hall. She hadn't even noticed that the professor had finished. She quickly scribbled down the assignment written on the white board and began hurriedly packing her things. She stood up and was a bit irritated to find that her classmates didn't have the same urgency that she did. She had to make a conscious effort to stand still as her classmates calmly gathered their things and exited the row.
Finally free from the hall, Jess made her way over to the nearest restroom, only to find an enormous line outside of it. It seemed that everyone in her class had had the same idea, Jess recognized one of the girls in the line, she was near the front, standing with her long legs tightly crossed, absent mindedly scrolling on her phone. She had been in front of Jess in the line to get her coffee and had also gotten a large just before class. Remembering another bathroom she had seen closer to the coffee shop she had earlier visited, Jess quickly turned and walked down the hallway, happy to see the crowd was a bit thinner further away from the lecture hall. She turned the corner into the restroom area and was confronted with a short line of only 3 girls which she quickly joined. Jess checked her watch and realized it was about noon, and multiple classes were probably letting out at the same time.
As Jess joined the line, she thought through her schedule for the rest of the day, she had another class at 1:30, so she would have plenty of time to, first and foremost, pee, and then have a quick lunch and take a look over the notes she had scribbled down during her morning class.
As Jess patiently waited and continued to try and distract herself, she noticed a gender neutral "Staff Only" restroom at the end of the hall, just passed the men's and women's. She considered giving it a try, but ultimately resolved that trying the door and finding it locked in front of the other girls in line would be too embarrassing. She was nearly there now, she could wait.
Finally Jess turned the corner and was now actually inside the bathroom, she was disappointed to see that there were only 3 stalls in this bathroom, and there were still 2 girls in front of her. Immediately a stall opened and the first girl quickly stepped in, Jess couldn't help but listen to the sounds of her pulling down her tight jeans and releasing an absolute deluge into the toilet. The suggestion made Jess involuntarily bend one knee and cross it over the other as she tried to tune the sound out.
A few minutes later and finally it was her turn, Jess quickly entered the stall and couldnt help but do a little dance as she unshouldered her bag, hung it on the door, pulled down her pants and finally released. She allowed herself to slouch back a bit on the toilet and enjoy the feeling of relief as the 32oz of coffee rushed out of her. Feeling like a new woman, Jess exited the stall, washed her hands, and headed back out into the hallway.
As she exited the bathroom, Jess noticed an intimidatingly pretty blonde rounding the corner into the bathroom area. Jess was a bit awestruck by her appearance, clearly an upperclassman, the girl was wearing a very well thought out outfit and the perfect amount of makeup. The girl walked right past the bathroom line and up to the door of the staff only restroom, before pulling out an access card swiping it through the handle of the door. There was a beep and a click and the girl swung open the door to her own private bathroom right in front of the rest of the waiting girls. As she disappeared into it, Jess noticed the bejeweled greek letters on the back of her backpack; O M O |
Chapter 4
Jess and Marcy giggled as they finished off the cocktails they had made in Marcy's dorm room and stood up to leave for the party. About 10 minutes in to the 20 minute walk from the dorm to the frat house, Jess began to feel a slight fullness in her bladder. It wasn't anything concerning though, given how often she had been drinking since she got to college, she was used to it making her need to pee more than usual sometimes.
Arriving at the party, Jess and Marcy quickly met up with some of their other fellow pledges who were talking to some of the older sisters. Jess was so excited to socialize with everyone that she forgot about her bladder for about an hour or so until it started to get pretty bad. She had had two beers since she arrived and she was definitely starting to feel those hitting her. Jess was talking to one of her fellow pledges, Isabelle, and as soon as there was a lull in the conversation she mentioned her need to pee. Isabelle agreed and the two set off to find the frat house bathroom.
What they found was of course not an ideal situation, about 6 people waiting for a small half bathroom, but the girls joined the line and continued to chat. By the time they had reached the front of the line, Jess was pretty glad she had gotten in line when she did as she found herself absent mindedly fiddling with the button on her jeans, but after a few minutes, the guy in front of her game out and Jess was able to step inside and relieve herself, briefly thinking about how good it felt to pee when drinking.
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Two hours and several drinks later, Jess was starting to feel like it might be time to go home soon. She also was needing another pee and didn't want to use the bathroom here again if they were going to be leaving soon. Jess walked around the house until she bumped in to Marcy and asked if she wanted to go home soon. Marcy seemed quite energetic but agreed, saying she was going to go off and say goodbye to a boy she had been talking to before heading out. Jess agreed to wait for her in the main room in the meantime.
10 minutes later and no sign of Marcy, Jess a bit irritated and also was really needing to pee now. She was getting to the point where she really wanted to go home. After a few more minutes and no sign of Marcy, Jess let out an exasperated gasp and decided that she definitely needed to pee before she left. As she approached the area where the bathroom was, she noticed that as usual several party goers were waiting outside, and she was really dreading waiting in the line. Before she could take another step, Marcy suddenly appeared and said she was ready to go, not wanting to waste any more time, Jess agreed. She would just have to bear it until they got back to the dorm, it was only about 20 minutes and she always found it easier to hold it if she was actively walking toward a toilet.
Half way home and Jess was starting to regret her decision. She really really needed to pee now, her conversation with Marcy had gone silent and she was walking as fast as she possibly could through the brisk fall air, it was all Marcy could do to keep up with her. Jess really couldn't think of anything else besides getting back to the dorm and getting to a toilet. Unfortunately for her, they were about half way home when they walked past a boy who Marcy apparently knew from one of her classes. He was quite handsome and Marcy was clearly infatuated with him and struck up an enthusiastic conversation. Forced to stop walking Jess crossed her left leg completely over her right and dropped into a nearly half squad. She tried to act happy and energetic as she frantically paced around in front of this pretty hot guy. After probably only 30 seconds of conversation, Jess couldn't take it anymore, she all but grabbed Marcy and insisted they had to get going. Marcy was pretty taken aback and as soon as the boy was out of earshot Jess admitted to her that she had to pee so bad that she would have peed per pants as they stood there any longer.
Finally out front of the dorm, Jess had reached the painful and throbbing stage. She had unbuttoned her jeans under her jacket and kept one of her hands under her shirt to try and soothe her bulging and protruding bladder. Marcy mentioned something to her but she didn't even hear it, all she could think about was getting to a toilet before she exploded into her pants in the lobby of her building. Jess darted through to the lobby to the elevators and was horrified to see a line for them. She dropped into a squat immediately and covered her face in her hands, mentally running through every option she had and thinking about all the dark places just outside the dorm where she might be able to sneak a squat, but she knew the police were always out on nights like this, she couldn't chance it.
Finally the elevator came back and she forced herself onto it, it was so crowded that she was basically pinned against the wall and she managed to sneak a hand down her pants to give herself a tight squeeze. Her sexy panties felt damp to the touch and she wasn't sure if she had leaked or was just sweating heavily from the effort of holding on. The elevator made its first stop and Jess was right at the front so she would have to step off to let the others out. She stepped off and looked back, seeing Marcy still standing inside. She couldn't do it, she couldn't get back on the elevator, she turned back around and began hobbling as fast as she could down the hall toward that floor's bathroom. Finally reaching salvation, Jess was panting like she had just ran a marathon and she could feel tears starting to brim up, as she entered the girls bathroom she and plunged her hand back down her pants, something she hadn't done since she was a little girl.
Standing in front of the 6 bathroom stalls was a groggy looking girl in pajamas, oh god, Jess thought, she was queuing, it wasn't possible, she was going to pee her pants like an elementary schooler right in front of this girl. Jess' head was spinning, her whole world inside her pants as she tried to ignore the gushing coming from the stalls, probably all girls returning from a night out just like her.
"You can go first..." Jess looked up and saw the tired girl looking at her with a gentle smile and gesturing to a just vacated stall, Jess could barely gasp out a thank you as she stumbled in. She felt the smallest trickle escape as she locked the door before finally getting her jeans down and finding her blessed relief. She gushed and gushed, it was one of those pees that seemed like it was about to end sometimes but never actually did, she had only had a few pees like this in her entire life and couldn't ever remember having to go so bad. As her flow finally softened, Jess quickly batted at the damp gusset of her panties with toilet paper before sending Marcy a quick text apologizing for hurrying her home. As Jess exited the stall, her bladder was still throbbing and she was still out of breath. She headed up to her room for a much needed nights sleep. |
Final Chapter:
The day had finally arrived. The day that Jess was going to finally become a sister of the sorority she had fallen so in love with. She walked in to the breakfast hall where Kathryn was waiting for her, grinning. Jess followed Kathryn into the restroom at the back of the dining hall which was seldom used and Kathryn pulled the small combination lock out of her pocket. "You can go one last time if you'd like" Kathryn said, beckoning to the stall.
Jess had just peed at her dorm before coming down, but she went in to the stall and managed to squeeze out a bit more, blushing a bit as she realized Kathryn was waiting just outside. Jess buttoned her jeans back up, exited the stall, and allowed Kathryn to click the lock in to place, then they exited the bathroom and went to have a nice breakfast.
"You'll be fine" Kathryn assured over their meal, clearly sensing the nerves Jess was having "It will suck, especially toward the end, but the feeling of finishing and becoming a sister will be well worth it"
"I'll never forget my last class, right before the end, I never in my life have come so close to peeing my pants, I thought for sure there was no way that I could make it, but somehow I held out, I just didn't have a choice, and the relief of finally getting to go, and at the same time becoming a sister, well it was worth a few hours of pain"
Jess nodded along, not feeling too talkative as she tried to process her feelings of nerves and excitement. The weight of the lock between her legs a constant reminder of what was to come. She had worn a hoodie today that went down far enough to cover the lock so no one would suspect what she was up to.
The girls finished their breakfast, and Jess her first bottle of water, which was larger than she had expected, and went their separate ways. Sitting down in the hall for her first class, Jess ran through her day in her head. It was just after 9AM now, she had peed in dining hall at 8:30. He last class would end at 3:30, so it was just over 7 hours that she would have to wait. Really not that bad, she reasoned to herself, she was never the type to wake up in the night to pee, this should be very doable.
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Nearly an hour and a half later and Jess was looking through the now half empty water bottle on her desk in front of her. Her first class was about to end and she was already needing to pee. It wasn't bad, but on a normal day she definitely would have been hoping to stop by the restroom before her 11AM class.
Exiting a class, Jess found a quiet place to sit and enjoy her break. She took out some schoolwork and tried to use it to distract herself. She continued to sip on her water, knowing that she would have to finish it by lunch at 12:30.
Sitting in her next class, Jess tried to focus on the lesson and not on her bladder. She told herself that she was paying more attention to her bladder than normal because of her situation and tried to push it out of her mind, but she was really needing to pee now and on a normal day would definitely be looking forward to a pee break before lunch.
Jess was so preocupied that she didn't even realize class was ending. She quickly took the last few gulps from her water bottle, packed up her things, and headed to meet up with Kathryn at lunch.
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"How you are holding up?" Kathryn asked as they sat down at a table
"Well I need to use the bathroom pretty bad to be honest, but I'm ok, I can manage"
Kathryn could see the look of dread spreading across Jess' face as she took out her 3rd and final water bottle
Jess got to work immediately, knowing she only had 45 minutes to down the whole bottle. Her bladder complained with every sip she took. She hardly touched her food and by the end of lunch was starting to feel really frantic, constantly swaying her legs under the table and unable to listen to what Kathryn was saying.
Standing up to head to her 1:30pm class afforded her some relief and she began to feel a little more confident even though her bladder felt like a balloon about to burst. This class would end at 2:20, then her next one was was 2:30-3:30, and then she would have her sisterhood and her relief, she could do it. It wasn't like she really had a choice at this point.
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Just 15 minutes into the class and Jess was doubting herself big time. The 3rd bottle of water had done her in, there was no way she was going to be able to make it. In any other situation, she would be dropping everything to hurry to a toilet immediately. She tried not to make too much of a scene in class, but couldnt help but keep her legs frantically pressed together and constantly bouncing up and down, frequently rubbing her hands desperately over her thighs. Her entire body was now covered in a thin film of sweat, as if the water just had to get out somehow.
Jess thought back to an experience she had had in elementary school. In her youth, Jess had considered herself to have phenomenal bladder control, far exceeding that of her classmates. One year, she sat next to a girl who always seemed to have to pee and Jess would sometimes tease her about it. One day Jess came to school with a massive 1 liter water bottle and the girl dared her to drink the entire thing and then wait until the end of the school to use the bathroom. Despite being initially confident, Jess ended up in a similar state and had to beg the teacher to use the restroom. She remembered standing up and finding a small puddle on her chair - it definitely wasn't pee, it was almost as if she had sweat out some of the water.
She shook the deeply repressed memory and accompanying embarrassment out of her head and looked at the clock. 10 minutes left in this class, an hour and a half and she'd be on a toilet... an hour and a half... she really wasn't sure that was possible.
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Walking out of class - she shot Kathryn a quick text:
"I don't think I can do this"
"You're so close, you got this!"
"I think I'm going to pee my pants before my next class even starts"
"I know the feeling, you can do it, it will be worth it, I promise"
Jess put her phone back in her pocket and turned toward the wall and quickly gave herself a quick squeeze, trying not to make a scene. She ducked in to an empty classroom and bent over, squeezing herself again and letting out an urgent moan. Her body reacted to the privacy with a brief, but unstoppable leak. Jess could feel the wetness in her panties as well as on her thigh, she ran her hand over her jeans and found them dry. Her face was red as a tomato now and her entire body was trembling, but she was in control again. She let out a frustrated moan and wiped a few tears from her eyes before heading to her next and final class.
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Jess sat at the back of the class and was glad she did. Halfway through the 1 hour class, Jess had not heard a word the professor said. She sat with her head in her hands and was struggling to breathe properly, her mind was completely focused on the battle taking place in her pants. The pain was coming in waves and her seat was wet. She wasn't sure at this point if it was sweat or pee, but her jeans were at least dry as far as she could see aside from the sweat they had soaked up.
With 10 minutes to go, Jess definitely leaked, it was a massive spurt, she thought she may have even heard the hiss. The universe seemed to give Jess a break as class ended a bit early, Jess only noticed because the students in front of her started packing up and leaving. Jess slid everything on to her desk in to her backpack and hurried out of the room, mortified at having been that desperate to pee in a college class.
She now had to go up 2 floors to reach the meeting point, she decided to take the stairs as she didn't think she could possible wait for, then maintain any semblance of composure in a potentially crowded elevator.
She felt another leak as she reached the top of the stairs and walked toward the meeting rooms, trying to read the room numbers through the tears that had welled up in her eyes. She finally found the room and burst in, clearly a hot mess. Kathryn as well as a few of the other older sisters were there waiting "Oh, you're right on time, exactly 3:30" Kathryn commended.
all Jess could get out was a wounded "please" as she dropped both of her hands between her legs and bent nearly half over.
"Ok sweetie" Kathryn said "Just try and stay as still as possible and I'll get this off"
As Kathryn messed with the lock, Jess felt another squirt come out, just inches from Kathryns hands. The lock then clicked off and Kathryn quickly handed Jess a keycard. "Welcome and congratulations" she said, with a proud smile
Jess took the card and managed a smile through her tear covered face. She thought about just letting go right there, she had made it, but just then one, of the other sisters put her hand on her sweat soaked back "you can use that right over there" she said, pointing to a staff bathroom across the hall.
Jess turned and limped out of the room, swiped her keycard and entered the bathroom feeling another leak and as she locked the door behind her, she finally, finally, yanked down her jeans and collapsed onto the toilet.
Jess began gushing immediately and continued for well over a minute, letting herself cry with relief and joy as she felt the liquid that had been torturing her poured out. After she had finished she continued to sit on the toilet, catching her breath and inspecting the damage. Her insides felt almost numb and her panties were completely soaked, there were a few streaks of pee on the legs of her jeans. She pulled up her pants and tied her hoodie around the waste to cover the damage, as she washed her hands, she heard a beep and a frantic knock on the door, she opened it and the next new sister dashed in, not even waiting for Jess to leave before collapsing on the toilet herself.
Jess stopped by the meeting room and thanked her new sisters again before heading back to her dorm for a much needed shower and change, ready to enjoy the next adventure in her sisterhood. |
"How could it have come to this?!" Zelda thought to herself as she raced down the corridors of her castle. It had been a quick and decisive defeat for the Hyrulean forces guarding the castle's outer defenses. An army of these vile twilight beasts had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and quickly overran the walls, taking the Soldiers by surprise. After the walls fell, the courtyard quickly followed suit, now the Twilight forces were surrounding the inner keep, it was only going to be a matter of time before they broke in.
As the Princess, it was now up to Zelda to defend her people, and protect the realm of Hyrule. But how? In a matter of hours, her army had been crushed, and her castle all but toppled. The situation seemed hopeless. Zelda could already feel the fear building in the back of her mind as she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She leaned against the cold stone walls of the castle corridor, and gasped for air. While recovering, Zelda became aware of another urgent situation...she needed to pee! The assault on the castle began without warning, thus granting no chances for a restroom break.
"We must keep moving, Your Grace!" the royal guard Captain shouted, "We have to get you to the final protective line before the keep doors fall!" This jolted Zelda back into reality, she quickly pushed the thoughts of her full bladder to the back of her mind and pressed onward through the next set of doors. The guards barred the doors behind them.
After some more breathless running, Zelda and her guard escort finally reached the throne room, the last line of defense. While running, they had heard many horrible noises from down below, it was apparent that the keep doors had fallen, and the Twilight forces were working their way through the remaining Hyrulean ranks. But now...now all was quiet. Zelda peered towards the large throne room doorway anxiously, a feeling of despair settling into the pit if her stomach. The calm before the storm truly was the worst. The dread sat heavy in the air, it could almost be physically felt. As she waited for the inevitable final assault, Zelda had nothing to draw her mind away from her desperate need to use the toilet, it was becoming painful now, as it had been hours since she was last able to relieve herself. Zelda wanted to sit down upon the throne, to relieve some pressure, but the nearness of the upcoming battle made her too anxious to do so. Instead, Zelda merely crossed her legs while standing, pressing her thighs together. She hoped her predicament wasn't noticable since everything was being covered by her white dress anyway, and her Soldiers were all transfixed on the doorway. At this point, Zelda did not know what to hope for, she was so desperate for relief, but there was no chance of that in their current circumstances, something had to change, and the only way for that to change would be the inevitable storming of the throne room. The chances that the few remaining Soldiers would be victorious against the onslaught were slim to none, and Zelda knew it. So, as desperately as she needed to pee, she also desperately wished to stall against the attack upon the throne room.
"I-I can't hold this any longer." Zelda thought to herself as her knees began to buckle. "N-no! I can hold on! I am the Princess of Hyrule, and I will not have the disgrace of peeing myself added to my defeat! I cannot let myself be remembered as the Princess who cowered in fear and shame in her last moments..." 'Her last moments...' the words sounded so surreal, as she turned them over in her mind. It had not yet dawned on Zelda that these truly could be her last moments, she may very well be waiting for her death. The thought of this brought even more fear to her mind. Not cowardly or irrational fear, but true black fear, despair.... This made Zelda's knees buckle even more, and her urethra start to lose control for a brief moment. A very small amount of urine escaped, creating a tiny wet patch in Zelda's white, silky panties, she let out a quiet, but audible moan at this. Fighting with every fiber if her body, Zelda quickly regained her control and composure.
Suddenly, Zelda's ears were filled with a loud hiss as black fog poured into the room and started to engulf the Soldiers' palisades. The room again fell silent as the Soldiers braced themselves. Again, the silence was shattered as the fiendish Twilight beasts scuttled out of the shadows and towards the Soldiers. They were large creatures, yet their movements made little noise, and resembled those of a cockroach scurrying towards a pile of refuse.
The battle was over as soon as it started. The shadow beasts moved with an unnatural speed and overwhelmed the Soldiers. And that's when she finally saw him...Zant. He was the Twilight King, or something of that nature, Zelda didn't know what exactly he called himself, she knew almost nothing about her enemy. Yet, here he was, an enemy she did not know even existed a day ago was now in her throne room, marching towards her, with the bodies of her slain Soldiers scattered around them. Zelda gulped hard.
"It is time for you to choose, surrender or die..." Zant said. "Oh yes, a question for all the land and people of Hyrule.... Life or death?!"
Only two of Zelda's guards now remained, standing to her right and left. They both looked at her, hinging upon her answer. The fear and the hopelessness of the situation overtook Zelda at this moment and made her muscles completely release. She stood there quivering from the strain of trying not to lose control, but it was far too late. Hot pee was soaking through her panties and cascading down her legs, drenching her stockings and filling her boots. The sound was quite audible, and the puddle forming beneath her was visible to both her guards and to Zant. Zelda's face had gone white, she choked on her words and could not speak. All Zelda could do was merely drop her sword to the floor in defeat, the sword hit the floor with a clank and a splash as it landed in her pee puddle. Surrender was the only way that she and her subjects could survive. She had already disgraced herself in battle, there was no need to sacrifice more lives for the sake of pride.
Written by:
High Meme-Overlord |
I was offered a helpful suggestion, that some of the loooong answers I've been giving on the 'Ultimate Omo Fantasy' thread might do better as freestanding entries, here in the Fiction section...
So I'll get to that, maybe in this topic, maybe as separate topics.
To get you started, here's an Omo Fantasy piece I wrote in the Wetset message board, a few years ago, about a peculiar herbal cocktail served in a beach bar on a Caribbean island.
Hemingway it ain't.
Old George and the bar on the beach...
Old George has been running the bar on the beach longer than anybody can remember. Hell, they've been calling him 'old' for longer than anyone can remember. Him and his first wife Marian, who they said was some kind of heiress, then his second wife, then their daughter, then a series of girlfriends that come and go every year or so. Rumour has it that the girl behind the bar on Saturdays is his grandaughter, college degree and all: treats her the same as all the help, grinning like they just got outta the sack, and all of them seem to like it that way.
God knows, she's as wicked as he is, maybe it isn't all for show. But the cocktail 'Pee in your Bikini' was her idea: he cheerfully blames Joanna, and she cheerfully admits to it.
The girls from the bars and the hotels are here at George's, because it's the only bar on miles and miles of beach, it gets them away from the boys and the businessmen, and George is careful who he serves. Helps, too, that he's always paid the pick of the locals to play on the banjo, or the guitar, or one year an electric piano hooked up to his generator: pays 'em and tells 'em to be presentable, polite, not too loud, and not to push with the clientele unless the girls physically pick 'em up and drag them into the bushes
Which, occasionally, they do: George picks 'em good-looking. Pretty, even, and the girls seem to like' em.
So every week there's some girl, new to the island, hoping she can stay for the summer and pay her way with bar work. Or whatever. Her new friends take her here, their own place miles from the bellowing beer-swilling tourists, and they chill out. Start telling stories, start telling secrets, start spending more time laughing than looking shocked and scandalised... And eventually the new girl notices the third one from the bottom on the cocktail board: 'Pee in Your Bikini'.
What? She asks... Or 'What the F**K?', these days. And George, or Joanna, or her friends will tell her: it makes you pee in your bikini. And she'll ask again, and they explain it to her s-l-o-w-l-y: you drink it, you gotta go, and you pee. In your bikini. Or whatever you are wearing on your sweet little ass tonight. And Geoge or Jo will say, as sweet and reasonable as can be, that we don't mind, it's just nature, don't worry, you can have another one on the house if it happens to you.
And every damn' time they take him up on it. Which makes me wonder what's in the cocktails higher up the board.
So the girl perches on the stool at the bar, and there on a tray are two long glasses: one of them's a pint of iced water - or so George says, and I almost believe him - and the other's pineapple juice, Champagne or something like it, two shots of rum and spiced tea. I know that one of the spices is ginger; I'm pretty sure another is chilli, I'd never say that any other is a beneficial local herb that goes on speedboats to the gringos but it's probably something closely-related. That, and his second wife was a herbalist, and taught Joanna more than she ever learned at business school.
So the girl sips a little, and decides she likes it: George mixes a damn' good drink. She drinks a mouthful, and decides she likes it a lot - and that she's thirsty, and needs a gulp or two of water. So down goes the level in the glasses, keeping pace with one another as the girl gets mellower, cheerier, bouncier, animated and wittier. But just a little-bit soft-focused. Sometimes they order another, sometimes they ask for an extra glass of water; my favourite was a cool Norwegian girl in a swimsuit, drank it straight down, both glasses - I mean like down-in-one - and started on a second and a third like nothing ever fazed her.
Either way, the result's the same. The chatter stops and they sit very still, close their mouths and look very, very surprised: most of them make it halfway off the stool and I saw one of them make it all the way to the bushes before it started, but the next thing that she knows is that she's peeing in her bikini. Wide eyes, surprised, but mellow enough not to be upset about it. And the whole bar gets to see her half standing, the backside of her bikini ballooning out and pee splashing off the stool and streaming down her legs. Miss Norway didn't even know she was doing it 'til she looked down and saw it running down into the sand, just sat there and peed where she was for the rest of the night. Didn't give a damn.
The best of them swear like Marines and insist that their friends all drink one too: that free Pee-in-your-bikini that George hands over is the most profitable act of sympathy I ever saw a Christian man commit. And, about half the time, they do - they've all gone through the ritual, it holds no terrors for them, and somewhere, deep down, I don't think they actually mind - not in swimwear, anyway, though I think it's harder for the ones in shorts, miniskirts, whatever's fashionable off the beach this year.
But, the Hell with it, a dip in the sea washes all sins away.
And yes, they know what it does; and yes, they do. One after the other, shrieking, or giggling, or just grinning sheepishly and letting go; every one of them seems to pee herself differently - legs together on the stool, letting it spill over anywhere and everywhere; standing legs wide-apart, letting it cascade straight down; cross-legged, spread-legged, legs straight out or knees hunkered up under her chin, sitting with her hands in her crotch and letting it squeeze out; or just laid-back, relaxed and letting the herself go with the flow.
And once it's done, it's done, they never scurry off into the bushes or wade into the sea again; doesn't seem to be any point. Just keep drinking, and now you can drink as much as you like, relax about the consequences 'cause who's gonna poke fun like she's little-miss dry ass?
Never a dull moment, and every different bikini seems to let it out a different way; some just let it through like they weren't there, some fill up and bulge like they're waterproof - which has got to be a drag for swimming and getting out of the pool - some send it squirting backwards like she's peeing out of her ass; most do some combination of the straight-down stream and trickles out around the leg-holes. But I've seen some sights that make me doubt the laws of gravity.
One night, even, this crazy Russian girl took off her sarong - they were the thing to be seen in a year or two ago - and she was wearing some kind of see-through plastic bikini, top and bottom. Ye, she drank it and yes, she did, like crazy, filled it up and squirted up the small of her back into her hair. She couldn't stop herself doing it, and it kept on coming, she ended up pulling at the elastic to let it out through the leg holes... The girls just egged her on, brought her glass after glass of water and pina colada. I think she must've been peeing nonstop after the third one, they were in hysterics. At the end of the night, it itched like crazy and she ended up filling her Bikini bottoms with soda water and walking home like she had a diaper on.
I could watch for hours, and one day, I swear I'm going to rig cameras; I mean it, they're getting smaller and cheaper every year and I'm pretty sure Joanna's either gonna want to watch them, or find a way of selling 'em on the Web.
Come the end of the night, George swills down the stools, the seats and the tables with seawater and lysol, and rakes the sand through, ready for the wind to blow it all away. Some nights, they find discarded bikini bottoms, panties, trunks, whatever; sometime I'm going to summon up the courage and ask Joanna what she does with all of them.
Pee In Your Bikini. Somehow, I don't think we'll ever see it in the supermarkets. |
Another follow-on from a helpful suggestion that some of the loooong answers I've been giving on the 'Ultimate Omo Fantasy' thread might do better here in the Fiction section...
This is (I think) the first one I posted, and it's a very, very simple thing for a woman to do. Be warned, it's pretty graphic in describing the terrible effect that it had on a man nearby, the unfortunate narrator.
All it needs is a willing woman...
She just smiles, mutters a quick "Excuse me" into my ear, as if she plans to dart into the restaurant across the road and use the loo.
Of course she will, nothing out of the ordinary, and she'll be back in a moment.
She moves half a step away, as if she's about to check her sunglasses, perfectly at ease, standing with her legs apart.
Her eyes are just a little out of focus, and she pauses in her breathing.
I can't believe that I am watching this.
Piss patters down onto the paving slabs, tapping on the stone for a moment.
Then... Nothing.
I can see a little trickle, down inside her thigh and winding around her calf: a quick flash on her ankle and a glimpse, a bubbling little flicker in her sandal.
She looks me straight in the eye - a game: look down and lose! - with a polite little pucker of her lips, and a look in her eyes of filthy, filthy mischief...
But no hint, unless you can see the wet flash of sunlight on her skin and the raindrops on the pavement, that anything is happening under her skirt.
...I can hear it. The whisper and hiss of pissing, deepening to an espresso-cup roar as a hot little pool fills out the cup of her pants and rises to immerse her; and the hiss becomes a muffled rush of pissing underwater.
Not just damp, not just wet: soaked, flooding, and overflowing.
And there it is: a wavering stream of piss, falling from under her skirt and clattering on the ground: a moment, a gasp, and it's hosing straight down into a puddle, spattering her ankles with a fine spray of droplets.
She throws back her head, runs her fingers through her hair, slips her headband back on and looks over her sunglasses:
"You lose!"
And indeed I do, looking down to see a sudden patch on the front of her miniskirt, where it touches the waistband of her underwear: damp, darkening, wet, spreading-out and running to the hem, a long finger pointing to a steady run of droplets falling in the air.
The falling stream falters and wavers, disappears beneath her skirt again, becoming two bright trickles on her legs: and that accusing finger on her skirt broadens out into an unmistakable "I've wet myself" patch on her front.
A sudden pattering behind her marks out a matching handprint of "Wet myself" at the back: I watch the hem drip-dripping as she walks away, legs still wet, trickles still running, as the fabric slithers and clings between her thighs, picking up more wetness from her skin.
One dark thumbprint, then two, joining-up to draw the outline of her panties in a sharp wet vee at her backside, soaking down to the handprint at the hem.
What must it be like, as the pool drains down, combing through her little ruff of hair and slicking it down with foam, to tickle and prinkle and spring back?
Surely she gasps and shivers a little?
Not a hint of it, as she walks the bold and confident strides of a fashionable woman on a perfect day.
I cannot follow her: I cannot move, losing our 'game' in spurt after spurt, as a dark spot at my pocket glistens and flows downwards...
Breathe.
This stops, right? I can move?
I can't.
She shimmies as she walks, relishing the slick silkiness of wetted skin on skin, droplets and trickles and trails, flashing, flickering and fading.
She pauses, still facing away from me, legs slightly crossed in a 'swimsuit' pose: and new a trickle runs down the back of her leg, bubbling at the heel of of her sandal, joining one wet footprint to another, and another, and another.
What, more?
Could she be standing like that to squeeze out her underwear? It must be sopping wet!
I compose myself, and start to catch up: just as I get to her, she sets her feet apart again, breathes out slowly, and a long, thin, stream of piss falls down again, pitter-pattering between her sandals again, faltering and wavering.
Not the cascade of a minute ago: but unmistakably, a woman letting herself piss until she has the satisfaction of relieving herself completely.
In her pants, to patter on the pavement, without embarrassment or hesitation.
I am frozen to the spot, losing again, and it seems like every shot of it is bigger than the last: I can feel it dribbling on my skin and I can't bring myself to care...
Her skirt is drying already, faintly stained but you just wouldn't know, until you saw her sprinkling, oh-so-very-delicately, onto the ground and onto her sandals, and onto those prettily-lacquered toenails.
A spurt, a sudden rush of droplets, a wet line on the pavement and a little flicker of a trickle on her ankle.
And off we go. Her, striding out, drying out, loving the feel of sunlight on her skin, knowing that the trail of wet footprints is fading to nothing as the last of the trickles run out of her sandal: walking away from the scene.
And me, wondering if anyone will see how awkwardly I'm walking - still painfully erect, for I know that she's walking in wet knickers - and trying not to draw attention to a wet patch in my trousers which will still be visible for quite a while.
It doesn't go away: she spends the afternoon releasing sudden spurts, every few minutes, drawing a line on the ground below her with a sharp little patter; or pausing in her walk to let a discreet little trickle flash and glisten down her leg, and disappear.
Sometimes she teases me with a glance, sometimes I am left to wonder whether I should lose another game of sweety-sweet smiles and puckering invitations to a kiss, while her eyes meet mine in a wordless mischief of slick and liquid sin.
And if you miss the moment when she did it?
We're out for a walk on a sunny afternoon, just another casually-fashionable couple taking the air.
.
.
.
Edited August 20, 2020 by betanumeric
Because... Editing. Some of the sentences needed the work.
(see edit history) |
What would you expect a woman to do if she found porn on her husband’s computer? Call it infidelity and angrily confront him? Sit him down for a frank, open conversation about their sex life? Write it off as boys being boys?
Can you imagine her having a friend over to look through her husband’s kinky stash together?
If I’d been hiding normal sex on my computer, I think my wife probably would have reacted in a normal way. But when she found the hidden files and chat logs on my hard drive, she understood that there was a good reason for me to try to hide them. And for better or worse, she was intrigued by the insight into a new side of her partner.
I’d only explored certain aspects of that side, myself. The conversations on fetish boards had been an opportunity to put out feelers and assess how I might respond to really being controlled by a powerful, beautiful woman, or to being demeaned and laughed at by her.
I’d saved images and clips that depicted those kinds of situations, and they’d become more specific over time. And in case the overall trend wasn’t clear, there were also pictures of men, shot from the waist down, with dark stains spreading from their crotches. I think it was immediately obvious to my wife that I’d been using them to imagine myself in their place, pissing my pants while a woman smirked and made fun of me for it.
It was also obvious to her friend, once she’d had a minute to look through the folder herself. But it wasn’t obvious to me what the two of them were giggling about when I came home from work and found them together on the couch one Friday. They were both transfixed by the computer, so much so that my wife only glanced up for a second and laughed the word “hey” before turning her attention back to the screen. Her friend seemed to consciously avoid looking at me, though I didn’t think much of it at the time.
I greeted them, half-expecting some explanation for what our guest was doing there. But when I didn’t get it, I merely shrugged and went up to the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. I walked by the bathroom on the way there, and just vaguely registered that the door was closed. I stepped into a pair of loose fitting jeans and then promptly got caught up playing on my phone, jettisoning the stress of the week.
I was jarred back to reality by a slight pressure on my bladder’s sphincter which reminded me that I hadn’t been to the bathroom yet. I usually preferred not to go at work, so I would hold it until I got home if possible. I confess that I also sometimes took the opportunity to enjoy the gradual increase in urgency, and to steal a glance at my more attractive female coworkers and think about how they would react if they interrupted me on my way to the bathroom and saw me needing to grab my crotch in order to stop a pee spot from forming on my pants.
That same thought reentered my head, with the coworkers replaced by my wife and her friend, as I stepped somewhat hurriedly out of my bedroom and reached for the bathroom door handle. When it resisted my efforts to turn it, the excitement I had derived from my fantasy turned into dull panic. Why was the bathroom door locked? The bathroom door was never locked.
It occurred to me that maybe my wife had two guests over, so I decided to wait and see if the door opened on its own. After a minute, I considered knocking, but I worried about the girls downstairs hearing me, and I thought I would sound pretty stupid requesting access from the occupant of an empty room.
I stood at the mid-point between the bedroom, the bathroom, and the staircase for several minutes. My body understood that the toilet was only 10 feet away, and it made my need to pee several times worse. That awareness was broken a few times by the unintelligible sounds of conversation from downstairs, and especially by the occasional bout of sharp laughter. In my state, this made me feel more self-conscious than I’d felt since I was a child, and by the time I was certain there was no one in the bathroom, I was practically kneading my groin with my hand and moving my hips erratically to avoid wetting myself.
This was a serious problem, because at that point I also knew I needed to go downstairs and talk to my wife. Despite the pulsating warning signs from my penis, I took my hand away and then took several deep breaths, trying to get my gyrations under control. I also silently chastised myself for letting it get this bad. Since starting on my fetish porn habit, I’d been holding it a little longer every time, but I never imagined that I would actually get to the point where I felt like I was about to piss my pants. I also never thought my home bathroom would be locked for no reason.
When I felt like I could walk for a little while without stopping to cross my legs, I gingerly made my way back downstairs and found both ladies still sitting on the couch with the computer in front of them. For now they seemed to be done looking at it, and were chatting to each other instead. When I stepped around the banister, they abruptly stopped talking and looked directly at me. My self-consciousness surged again, and although I bent forward at the waist a little, I consciously stopped myself from grabbing my crotch.
“You were up there for a while,” my wife said with a wry smile.
“Just vegging out,” I lied, then changed the topic much too quickly. “Is someone in the bathroom?” I meant it to sound casual, but I knew it was a dumb question and that it betrayed my single-minded focus on getting to the toilet.
“No,” my wife answered.
“Then why is the door locked?”
“I locked it.”
I wanted to ask why, but I also felt myself wavering in my resolution not to potty dance in front of my wife and her equally pretty friend. Not wanting to get drawn into a whole conversation, I simply asked, “Where’s the key?”
“I have it,” she answered just as simply. Her fingers brushed her neckline and brought forward the chain she was wearing around her neck, with the key dangling from it.
“Okay… can I have it please?”
My wife pursed her lips thoughtfully as her fingers kept playing with the key and chain. Her friend touched a fingernail to her teeth and smiled in a show of unrestrained amusement. I didn’t really know what was so funny. I thought I was doing a good job of standing still and looking dignified, though every additional moment of doing so was torturous.
“I don’t know,” my wife finally answered. “…Why do you need it?”
“Uh… because I kind of need to go to the bathroom?”
My wife looked me up and down, then turned to her friend. “Do you think he should get the key if he just kind of needs to go to the bathroom?”
She looked me dead in the eyes while answering: “No way. I think he should have to go really bad.”
Involuntarily, I pressed my thighs together, and I figured that the girls must have seen the sudden twitch. I looked to my wife in an effort to make sense of the situation. I still wasn’t quite connecting it to my fantasies or thinking about what they might have been looking at on the computer, which still sat there in front of them.
When I saw that she wasn’t saying anything, I tried sacrificing an ounce of my pride to save the rest of my dignity. “Okay, what if I have to go really bad?” I asked. And as if this tentative admission was a signal that I didn’t have to hide my desperation so much anymore, my bladder contracted and I momentarily touched my fingertips to the head of my penis, fearing a sudden leak.
My wife’s friend excitedly tapped her on the arm, then cupped a hand to her ear and whispered something. My wife opened her mouth in an exaggerated smile and beamed, “That’s a great idea! He should have to beg for the key.”
“What?!” I exclaimed before realizing I’d gone back to swinging my hips in open desperation.
My wife’s friend piped up: “You heard her. If you want to go in the toilet and prove you’re a big boy, you have to beg us to open the door for you.”
By this point, I felt like I had to be dreaming. It was unthinkable that something could happen in real life which was so horrible while also being so identical to my deepest, darkest sexual fantasies. I was finally blessed with an explanation when my wife continued her friend’s teasing.
“Come on, hubby,” she said. “Beg us to take you to the potty. You don’t want to end up looking like this, do you?” With that, she turned the computer so it faced me. There in full screen, I saw a familiar image of a soaked pair of trousers – one of many that my wife had no doubt examined while choosing her favorite.
“I don’t… That’s not…” I stammered, finding no plausible way to defend myself. Both of the women were looking at me with their eyebrows upraised, awaiting whatever response I mustered. Instead, my legs quivered with a combination of urgency and shame, and I sank to me knees on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, staring toward my wife’s feet. “Please… please just let me go to the bathroom.” But I’d barely completed the sentence before my unconscious mind seemed to decide that as long as I’d already been exposed, there was no further point in trying to hold onto my dignity. The stunned silence in the room was broken by an intense hissing noise as I felt the warm liquid envelop my groin, creep down my inner thighs, and pool around my trembling knees.
“Aww,” my wife’s friend teased. “Poor little hubby couldn’t hold it.”
I didn’t dare lift my head until my wife stood directly in front of me, leaned down, and gripped my chin between her thumb and forefinger in order to force me to meet her gaze. After admiring the look of defeat in my eyes for a long moment, she issued one firm command: “Don’t you dare ever keep secrets from me.”
I tried to look away again, but a tiny twitch of her wrist was enough to snap me back to attention. With her free hand, she grabbed the key around her neck and added, “By the way, I’m keeping this with me at all times from now on. And just so you know, we’ll probably be having a lot more houseguests in the near future.” |
I have never been here before in my life. To the best of my knowledge I know no one who lives or works here. I chose this town for that reason, I needed anonymity for what I had planned. My car is parked in the town car park and a 4 hour ticket from the machine has been displayed prominently in the windscreen. Courtesy of Google Maps and ‘Street View’ I am armed with a good knowledge of the shops and businesses along the main street.
I started my walk along the High Street of this small town and just a few metres along the road I went into Jacqui’s Coffee House, bought coffee and a slice of coffee cake then sat outside at one of the bistro tables. Observing people has always fascinated me and so I sat for a pleasant half hour or so watching people as they went about their business. A feeling of urgency began to develop in me so I got up and strolled further along the street. I passed the Bank and Eldridges Estate Agents, looked in Daniel’s Mens’ Store and discovered I was probably still a couple of years out of date with my wardrobe. I didn’t seem to arouse much interest in the people passing, probably because I look normal in build and looks, unremarkable really, so no one took any particular interest in me which is what I wanted, for now. My inner self however, was beginning to get a little agitated and my movements became less leisurely than before as I quickened my pace towards the opposite end of the High Street where the town park was situated. I had entered a race between myself and myself, one side of me wished to hurry and reach comparative safety and comfort in time and part of me wanted to miss the deadline. In truth, the race had begun even before I arrived in the town when I had made a conscious decision to avoid doing something quite normal. I quickened my pace a little as I passed Poundstore realising that the minutes counting down were ticking inexorably towards the conclusion, whichever ‘self’ was the victor. The chemist was busy as I passed, actually hurrying now. I could feel myself getting a little hotter as the conflict between myself and myself became stronger and the end became inevitable. One way or another the result was only minutes away and it would then become clear which side of me had won. I was practically running now and my heart was racing with exertion and excitement in equal measure. Finally, the finishing tape came into sight as a sign on a brick wall declared ‘GENTS TOILET’. One part of me was incredibly relieved that I could easily finish the race honourably, the other part of me insisted that to overcome such a strong temptation would be a great success. The sign was only a few paces away now and I deliberately crossed the road to put myself where I really wanted to be. I sat down on a wooden bench which was set back into the park fence, casually crossed my legs, leaned back and relaxed. A warmth started to spread around my groin then around my buttocks and a splashing sound began beneath the bench. Outwardly I showed no sign of what was occurring but inwardly my excitement levels were off the scale. I watched as a man entered the Gents Toilet opposite. By the time he came out again it was all over and I had completely wet myself in the High Street with people passing by in both directions. A couple of people had noticed the rivulets that started beneath the bench and ran towards the other end, an older lady pushing a small shopping basket on wheels who made no comment at all and a couple of teenaged girls who giggled after one of them said, ‘that guy’s just peed in his trousers’. No one else appeared to notice anything unusual at all and I wondered just how many people miss things around them due to their low observation skills. People’s minds sometimes ‘blind’ them to something seen but which is so preposterous as to be ‘unreal’ and they pass by without actually seeing what is before their eyes, their sub-conscious minds offering a more ‘reasonable’ explanation. My trousers were dark grey to start with but where they were wet it was now many shades darker and what I had just done would be clearly obvious to anyone who saw me when I stood up and walked away.
As I sat there for a few minutes secretly enjoying the feeling of a completely wet backside, a woman in her late twenties or early thirties sat down on the other end of the bench. It was obvious that she was pregnant and she looked at me a little nervously as she said, ‘It’s none of my business and I have no idea why but you have clearly just sat there and wet yourself. I am absolutely desperate to pee and as your wetting has run all down to this end of the bench I can pee here and no one would know. It would look like it was all from that end of the bench. Please sit there a few minutes longer while I pee here.’ To say I was shocked would be an understatement but I could see no reason to refuse her bizarre but logical request so I nodded and said, ‘Sure, no problem’ and tried to look away. Quickly and carefully she pulled her skirt behind her and I guessed she was sitting with just her knickers touching the bench. Without actually looking I managed to see out of the corner of my eye when a cascade poured through the wooden slats of the bench but as she had predicted, it was disguised by the wetness already there. She seemed in no hurry to move and thanked me for my understanding. I said, ‘I know it can sometimes get urgent for a pregnant lady but why-ever didn’t you go to the ladies?’ ‘because it’s all the way at the other end of the park’, she said, ‘the Gent’s has been here since Victorian times and when the park was constructed, to commemorate the end of World War I, it was considered more seemly to have the Ladies toilets further away. I just couldn’t have walked another step without having an accident.’ She laughed and said, ‘it’s kind of weird for two strangers to be sitting like this with two wet bottoms and acting as if it is nothing to worry about.’ I agreed with her then said, ‘we can change that though, we don’t have to be strangers. My name’s Chris.’ I’m Helen,’ she said, I’m a teacher in school here and I couldn’t afford for any of the children’s mothers to see me wet myself and so you being here was a bit of a God-send. Trouble is I have to walk home in wet things now to change but at least it’s my day off today.’ ‘I’ll give you a lift home,’ I said immediately, my car’s in the car park at the top of High Street.’ I stood up and for the first time Helen saw the large wet patch on the back of my trousers, she gasped and said, ‘you can’t walk up the High Street like that, come with me, I’ll show you the back way then we shouldn’t see too many people. How did you come to wet yourself anyway? the Gent’s is just across the street! Was it an accident like me?’
As we walked the quieter way back to the car park I explained to Helen how I enjoyed wetting and particularly wetting in public; that it gave me a great buzz to do something so sensually enjoyable and naughty when I could be caught out. She laughed and said, ‘I caught you out didn’t I? I couldn’t believe it when I saw your pee running under the bench. I was going to sit there for a moment to get better control then I thought I would go into the park and try to find somewhere to hide but time was against me I’m afraid.’ ‘Latchkey syndrome’, I said. Helen had never heard of that so I explained how it worked and she said, ‘Exactly! I have had that happen a couple of times as well, standing on my doorstep and peeing down my legs when I know if I lived a few houses further down the road I would still have held it that far. Amazing what our subconscious does isn’t it?’ By this time we had reached the car park with only a couple of odd looks my way and I opened the boot to take out a couple of towels to put on the seats. ‘My,’ said Helen, ‘Well prepared or what?’ ‘Well’, I said, ‘I knew I was going to need some protection for one seat but not for two!’ On the way to Helen’s home I said, ‘You haven’t made any comment about me deliberately wetting myself in town, which is very broad minded of you, thank you.’ She looked at me then and said, ‘Chris, I consider myself an individual too, and if wetting makes you happy it’s fine by me. I can feel a bit of sympathy for that myself, there have been a few times when I have been so mad, or frustrated even, that I felt like just peeing my knickers right there and then out of some sort of rebelliousness I suppose. I hate having to ‘conform’ it’s just not me! How I ever got through school and Uni I don’t know. Even this baby,’ she pointed to her ‘bump’, is from donated sperm from an anonymous medical student, I wanted a baby but I didn’t want the hassle of living with a guy who would want me to ‘conform’. My poor mother is beside herself, one the one hand horrified that I don’t even know the name of the baby’s father and on the other hand the joy of looking forward to her first grandchild.’ I laughed at that because she obviously had her mother summed up but was going to go her own way regardless. ‘We’re here’, she said as she showed me which house was hers. ‘Do you want to come in for a minute? I’ll make us a coffee then change and we can chat a bit more if you’d like.’ ‘That’s very kind’, I said, ‘but I really should go home and change I suppose. Tell you what, we could meet for coffee at Jacqui’s coffee shop sometime and have a good chat, a dry one,’ I smiled. She laughed and said, ‘that’s a new one on me, a dry coffee but you’re on! We exchanged mobile numbers and she waved, smiling as I drove away.
It took me about twenty minutes to get home and by the time I parked on my drive I was ready to pee again so I stood beside my car and just let it happen. I must confess that I was thinking about the times Helen had said she had done the same on her doorstep. The thought of a ‘dry coffee’ with Helen and what it might lead to was gaining strength in my mind.
To be continued: |
Heys! I have not written this story fully out yet, but I have the first part here. There is a general lack of futa or genderswapped material in omorashi literature, (and I'm moderately surprised to say that I now actually know omorashi literature pretty well), so I've come up with some story ideas to fill in those gaps. This is one of those stories.
Synopsis:
A girl working at a cafe wakes up one morning to find she has grown a penis. This conflicts with her cafe's unusual toilet policy, and causes a dilemma.
1) Morning Routine
Cliara stirred in her bed. Sunlight streamed in from between her curtains, landing just over her eyes as she lay on her side. Her shoulder-length brown hair strewn across the pillow obscured her round, almost boyish, face as she squinted against the light. She turned onto her other side, waiting for her morning alarm to force her out of bed. She felt the duvet slide uncomfortably between her legs, where it had probably gotten trapped, and she kicked it into a more comfortable position.
Half dreaming about the boy from across the street from where she worked (he was looking into her eyes, then walking with her, then doing something her sleep-addled brain only vaguely rendered), she slid a hand from its resting place on top of her pillow. She slid her hand slowly down her chest, feeling her pert breasts through her pink nightshirt, down to her waist. She lifted the elasticised band of her pyjama trousers, and, eyes still closed, her heart skipped.
She carefully felt between her legs, just the tips of her fingers at first. Then she dove deeper, lightly pressing, stroking, fondling. Her dream melted away even as she kept her eyes shut, wondering if this was some other dream, until, resting the palm of her hand to hide her modesty from itself, she knew what it was. She had a penis.
Sitting up in bed and opening her eyes, Cliara stared at her new member disbelievingly. It was perfectly joined to her, as though it had always been there. Her body was still its lithe self, nothing other than her genitals had changed. The penis was significant enough that she would have to change how she walked slightly, and would probably make her jeans uncomfortable, but was otherwise still modest. She felt a wave of relief in realising that she could still pass as a girl until this went away.
The alarm clock read 06:55, and had an alarm set for 07:00. She switched the alarm off and headed to the bathroom to tackle the two things she needed most right now. Masturbation, and peeing. Both were going to be something new. The thought of playing with her very own penis excited her even as the prospect of having the wrong genitals gave her a creeping feeling of fear - she might not go back to normal.
The first task was to be masturbation - it always was regardless - and most intrigued Cliara. Having never been a boy she did not know how to best pleasure herself now, and had no idea whether her member would become erect. She felt horny, but that apparently was not enough to get her hard. A couple of minutes were spent examining the penis between the fingers of her left hand, carefully playing with it to see what felt good.
It was very sensitive. Squeezing the tip between her thumb and index finger caused her sphincter to contract in a mix of surprise and pleasure. She made several such movements, varying in intensity and even direction, when she noticed her penis becoming longer and thicker. She recalled from porn videos what men do to themselves at this point, and she gripped her still hardening penis with her hand and began moving the hand along the shaft. This proved to be a somewhat uncomfortable experience. Her penis still drooped somewhat, and the skin was being dragged too much by her grip.
Lessening her grip, she carefully found that a light touch now worked best. Facing the toilet - and pausing here to lift the lid - she began stroking herself. It was like she had never masturbated before, exciting and fun. Her dick straightened in her hand. She curved her back with pleasure, placing a hand against the wall in front of her to steady herself. A wave of pleasure nearly buckled her knees as the left hand moved faster.
But then the motions became more numb, and her arm ached with motion. She had never masturbated like this, and could not bring herself to climax. Disappointment set in as she gave up, glancing at the alarm clock through the bathroom door. She needed to get moving before she was late to work.
Peeing proved to be another hurdle. At first her erect penis refused to let her relax sufficiently to pee. With minutes ticking away, she moved on to having a shower before letting go. Her need weighed on her as the water hit her, first on the front, then on the back. The erection began to fade in the comforting water, and became just another curve of her body as she washed herself. Not too long had passed before her member returned to being a, as she now realised, rather cute package between her legs: pink and protruding. It probably helped she was sexually attracted to both men and women, though she had never considered mixing the two. Shower water ran down her body, streamed along her shaft in an imitation of urination.
As the warm water rinsed her, she relaxed. Almost without meaning to, she began to pee. The urine mixed with the shower and obscured her stream. She stepped back from the water and watched as the urine pushed through her foreskin and sprinkled in a rather uncontrolled way. She picked up her penis and aimed the stream, first just moving it side to side, but then flicking it up and down. She pointed it upwards and placed a finger over the tip and watched the urine burble under her finger and stream down her penis and legs. It was over before she could really familiarise herself.
As she rinsed herself off again, Cliara thought about how she would be going to the toilet at work. The cafe's policy on peeing was strict, deviation was a fireable offence. This was going to be a problem, and not one she was ready to handle. |
This part is mostly setup. Everything after the first three paragraphs can be skipped if you're just here for the omorashi.
2) The Cafe
The cafe was an unusual one. After years of intense competition between coffee shops in the area, the cafe had decided to maximise the efficiency of its staff by any means possible. One such method was to only hire females so as to get the statistically greatest sexual attraction. The most significant method was that toilet breaks were modified. An employee was not allowed to leave the service station at all during their shift, except for defecation emergencies. This was enforced in two ways.
First was that there was no staff toilet. Instead, the customer toilets had a discreet scanning device above the entrance that checked whether an employee entered, and what need they had come to relieve. Second, employees were permitted to pee at the service station through a special device. The device is a suction funnel connected by a tube to an underground disposal tank. One simply placed it over their girlhood, pressed a button to activate it, and slowly urinated. For safety reasons, the suction was not powerful enough to handle fast urination.
The owner was also very strict about "social respectability", and demanded that employees hide their toileting needs from customers. No indicating a need, no holding yourself, no revealing yourself while urinating. Cliara and the other "station girls" wore knee-length skirts and dresses to work for this reason, as it would allow them to quickly hike up the front of their skirt while nobody was looking, place the device, and drop the skirt before anyone noticed. This, of course, was also hidden by the height of the station. Nobody ever mentioned it, but they had all evidently elected to never wear underwear either. That, or Cliara was the only one who minded wet underwear at work.
Cliara started her shift at 08:00, sliding behind the station and grabbing a green felt cap from a shelf. The cap served as the cafe's uniform, and had a large white coffee bean stitched on the front. Her coworker, Anna, was already busy cleaning the espresso machine.
"Hey Anna!"
"Morning! Here, hold this would you?" Anna shoved a bundle of filters into her hands. "We're one short today, so it'll just be us two."
"Didn't Sarah bunk off this time last week, too?"
"Probably." Anna took the filters back and looked at Cliara. "You feeling alright? You look like you had a bad dream or something."
"Yeah. I think I just need to work."
The pair of them set about getting the coffee machines running before they opened at 08:30. Anna's green dress and silver-blonde hair, tied back in a ponytail, complemented Cliara's deep blue dress. Refills of coffee beans and sugar were taken from a storage room behind the station, stacks of mugs were placed artfully on the counter, and the machines were warmed up. Cliara was thankful for the cramped conditions of the service station, as her new penis had changed the way she walked, and she could never be sure that it was not poking past the folds of the dress.
Anna opened the entrance of her own accord, while Cliara made the first two coffees of the day. Employees were not only permitted, but required to drink free coffees throughout the day. When business was slow or new, like now, these filled the cafe with the strong smell of fresh coffee that invited customers in. As they both always preferred, she added a small amount of milk to the fresh drinks.
The first couple of hours were disappointingly slow. The pair of them stood in bored silence sipping at their coffees. They had both worked here for months now, running out of new things to say to each other during every morning. Weekends invited new material for conversation, as did news, but early on the fourth weekday left nothing to be said. Anna played with her phone for a while.
Cliara took to staring at Anna while Anna was distracted. She was usually too busy with her own life or work to look at her properly, but now was as good a time as any. Anna's soft but almost bony features puzzled Cliara's eyes, but was not unpleasant. The green summer dress flowed along her frame, petite breasts- Cliara had to stop herself. Her penis tingled with desire and the morning's frustration, and she hastily turned away to face the open door. Now was not the time to get an erection!
The first customers entered while Cliara tried to douse her horniness with clean thoughts (cold showers, and the five user errors of cappuccino machines). A party of five men in expensive-looking suits swaggered in, discussing loudly and with many laughs something about a deal. One of the men rounded up the other four and made a list of orders. The other four than crowded around a table, while their ringleader walked towards Cliara.
"We're going to be here a while. Our first round is.." The man took a breath, "three large black americanos, no sugar, one espresso with sugar, two espressos without sugar, one hot chocolate, large, and one large coffee with creamer."
Cliara pictured the items in her head as she always did for orders like this. "They'll be ready in just a moment! Can I get you anything else?"
The man examined the menu behind the counter for a moment before deciding, "a, uhh, chocolate chip muffin please."
Anna and Cliara divided up the work. Anna took the hot chocolate and espresso orders, while Cliara poured out the coffees and extricated a muffin from its vacuum-wrapping in the store room. The collected items took up two trays, with a saucer for each mug and one for the muffin, which Anna neatly arranged and pushed to the front of the counter. The man had sat back down with his troop, however, clearly expecting table service.
Anna took charge at the faltering of their service. "Take the trays over, it'll be easier. I'll clean up back here."
Cliara's heart skipped for the second time that morning. The cover of the station would be gone. There was no arguing about it either - Anna had laid out the trays before Cliara could stop her, and had already moved towards cleaning up the machines again. She glanced furtively down herself to make sure she was still decent, gingerly pressing a hand over herself to double check. She exited to the customer side of the station, picked up a tray, and carried it over.
The men took no notice of her has she unloaded the first items, to her relief. Walking back to the counter she could hear one of the machines being run again, and Cliara did not want to think about what that meant. The walk with the second tray tested her patience somewhat. She was used to dashing about, the smoothness of herself between her legs making her movements more smooth and nimble than now. But with her penis dangling down there, threatening to poke through the skirt, she had to slow herself down.
She dispensed the last items, bending precariously over the table to pass the hot chocolate to the one waving at her for it. Some of the men ogled her as she did so, but thankfully none of them looked below her waistline. Her return to the station was met with a somewhat inquisitive look by Anna, and a large pair of coffees. Two coffees was their usual take for the morning, but Cliara knew this was going to be a problem. It would be rude to refuse Anna the coffee, and then she would start asking questions. But Cliara knew full well that the toileting device fitted too closely to the body to accommodate her new genitals.
Edited August 22, 2020 by Wrakkar
(see edit history) |
3) Service
Business picked up in the late morning. Streams of customers came in, mostly businessmen but some were tourists and shoppers. Anna kept at the espresso machines, while Cliara continued taking most of the orders. The business troop still sat at their table, bouts of laughter occasionally rising from them, sipping away at their coffees. The ringleader came up some half an hour after their first order and bought a round of muffins, but looked too busy with conversation to make a third order.
The station girls' habit of drinking regular coffee was by 11:00 starting to become an issue. Two in the morning, each, and then another would be had at lunch. Neither of them had a scheduled lunchbreak as a result of the cafe's policy, and would either eat nothing or steal a muffin at the first opportunity. With nothing to absorb their liquids, soon they would both be taking turns on the toilet.
Heat from the coffee machines and the diuretic effect of their own drinks also led to a habit of regularly drinking water, usually poured from the station sink into their own used mugs. Anna kept sipping away like someone who knew relief was always nearby, but Cliara felt a slight sinking feeling as her thirst developed. She tried rationing her water intake, but Anna, permanently charitable, kept topping up her mug.
More and more drinks were served. Most people ordered "out" - leaving with their drinks, but a few stayed in the small cafe. It took only a handful of tables to crowd the room, and as 12:00 approached more people insisted on enjoying themselves with muffins. Even with her impending predicament, Cliara would not have minded so much if it hadn't been for the troop. They had started relaxing and their pace of conversation slowed. After months of serving here, both girls knew what this meant.
The ringleader was back at his duties, rounding up another order list. A short few minutes passed, hazy with more customers filtering through the station, and he entered the queue. By now Cliara felt a moderate urge to pee. She tensed her thighs to suppress the tingling sensation as she took another order. Another pair of drinks were served, and now the ringleader was back.
"Well. We're not going to be here too much longer I don't think." The man grinned fiendishly. "Just one more round before we get going."
"What's your order?"
"Just four large black coffees and a glass of water." The man looked like he had more to say, but he waited as Cliara handled the order. Anna busied herself with a second customer, glancing over to the man as she did so.
As Cliara was pouring the second cup, the man started talking again. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Cliara." She smiled and kept at her task.
"Nice name. I'm Isaac. Isaac Alderson." He held out a hand. Cliara shook it awkwardly, still trying to operate the machine.
"This really is a nice shop you got here - very comfortable. Say, when is your lunch break? I'd like to get to know you."
Cliara set out the drinks onto a tray, trying and failing to fit them all on. "Oh I don't have a lunch break."
Isaac looked mildly puzzled for a moment, and briefly considered his next words. "Well, when does your shift end?"
Cliara tensed her legs behind the station as the annoyance of being delayed like this compounded her need to pee. Isaac looked like he had no intention of even leaving the cafe before he got familiar with her. "I get off at five, when the cafe closes."
"Damn that's a while from now." He exclaimed in mock surprise, stealing a glance down her body as he did so. Cliara noticed, but she had seen enough people like Isaac to care. She heard the coffee machine start running again, and knew there was only a limited chance that it was for another customer. The noise brought her back to her need and absent-mindedly stole a furtive squeeze of her unfamiliar self. She masked the movement by brushing aside a lock of hair from her face, but this seemed to give Isaac an unintended impression.
Isaac leant his head at a slightly more questioning, albeit friendly, angle and curled the edge of his lips in a mild smirk. "I'll take the tray over. Bring the other mug, I want to introduce you to the lads."
Cliara resigned herself to the task. There was another five hours before she could go home, and it was not going to come any faster by being rude. She turned towards the exit side of the station, and caught Anna's eye. Anna winked mischievously, another pair of coffees in her hand. Anna's own need must now be quite significant but, between Isaac gawping over the counter and more customers now entering, her opportunities to pee were as limited as Cliara's. The walk was uncomfortable. Impatience was beginning to set in as she carefully followed Isaac with the last coffee, eventually setting it down while Isaac introduced her to the others.
"This is Aiden, our estate agent, that there is Yuri, my accountant." Isaac pointed at each man separately. "This is David, owner of the new tower on Gold Street, and this is Fargo, David's accountant."
Cliara played along with the charade. She had no interest in this man, and dearly wished to return behind the station where she could cross her legs. After shaking everyone's hands, she seized the moment before anyone tried to rope her into a conversation by saying, "can I get you anything else?"
Thankfully the consensus was "no". As they each took their turn to say such, however, her urge peaked. Her urethra tingled, almost down to the tip of her penis, and she redoubled her previously passive control over her bladder. This manifested in slightly closing her thighs together, but the urge also buckled her knees somewhat. The effect was something like a part-curtsy. She turned on the spot and walked stiffly away, cheeks flushing. The fabric of her dress sliding sensually over her penis as she quickened her pace before anybody noticed anything.
Her return to the station was greeted by Anna sipping her coffee as a customer mulled over the menu. Anna's legs were crossed, her weight mostly on one leg, passing it off as a relaxed stance. Anna's face told nothing of what her bladder must be feeling now. Having kept her usual drinking pace, this new coffee would be rushing into her bladder as fast as she drank it. Cliara slipped past Anna, and pretended to be comfortable while the customer ordered.
Anna passed the order to Cliara, saying to the customer "my partner will be serving your order your order!"
This was their usual ruse. When traffic into the cafe slowed, one of them would pretend to arrange the shelves under the station by kneeling down. They would then, one knee on the floor and another pressing into their full bladder, lift their skirt, pull out the device, attach it to themselves, and stand up again. They could then continue service while slowly relieving themselves.
Cliara looked over her shoulder as she operated the coffee machine, in time to see Anna straighten up. If one looked carefully, from the side one could just see a solid, roundish protrusion under her skirt, over her crotch. Less discreet was the small black tube that could be seen between her legs and running to where the station met the floor. Anna's face relaxed and she stared into the middle distance for a moment as she made sure she did not pee too quickly. With the coffees made and handed over, another customer stepped up and addressed Anna.
From experience Cliara knew that concentrating on talking meant slowing or even stopping the flow of pee. The experience was always tingly, and in a way rather fun. The early days of using the device put both of them out of action while using it, and they had to pretend to continue cleaning things until they were finished. By now, though, Anna had become much more skilled. She kept a steady pace of conversation, and leaned forwards slightly into the desk to hide the sensations emanating from her bladder and urethra. Still, a slight fanning of her legs could be seen.
Cliara's own need intensified as she watched her friend empty herself, giving herself an almost involuntary squeeze as she did. Like the last, the order and customer were passed over to Cliara, and she served again - this time a round of espressos. Sooner or later Anna was going to wonder why she was not using the device, and Cliara had no idea to explain. Her cheeks reddened again as she imagined the conversation, having to explain her new predicament.
Edited August 23, 2020 by Wrakkar
(see edit history) |
4) Emergency
More customers rolled by as Cliara finished her coffee with a creeping sense of desperation. She declined a refill when Anna offered one, but Anna's new tact to keep her spirits up was to ensure she kept hydrated. This meant continuing to drink water instead. It was not much of an improvement, but Cliara wanted to avoid explaining her situation almost more than she wanted to pee. Half-past twelve finally saw the business troop leave, with more than one of them stealing a glance back towards her as they left, at last ridding the store of Cliara's biggest threat.
Cliara soon found herself bobbing up and down to keep her bladder at bay. She took the moment between competing an order and receiving a new customer to trade places with Anna. Anna, having started to keep an eye on Cliara, seemed relieved of her concern at this. She said to Cliara as they traded, "at last, I thought you were planning to hold out all day!"
Cliara smiled and brushed her off, but this move was not to make use of the toilet. Trying to work around attaching the tight-fitting device to herself - presumably holding it in place while she urinated - would be too obvious, and likely to result in a mess. The whole point of it was to never seem to take a break, not to gross out the customers. Rather, Cliara traded with Anna so she could stop moving as much. And so that when she started to struggle, which would be soon, she could covertly hold herself.
A lunchtime stream of customers busied the girls for much of the next hour, with Cliara becoming increasingly needful. She even resisted turning her abdomen where she could, keeping her legs firmly planted - half-crossed - as she smiled and took orders. Anna started to become actively concerned, trying to catch Cliara's eye. Anna had stopped offering refills, and instead looked at her with sympathy at how the flow of customers refused to relent.
"It'll die down soon Cli, just keep holding on!"
Cliara kept her mouth shut at this, as at that moment she felt the tingling of her bladder seep along her urethra. She reached down to hold herself, careful to push against her penis rather than grab it. Yet more orders for coffee came in, and Cliara was staring to panic. She felt like she was going to dribble at any moment, and there was no way that her shift would end soon enough to let her into the customers' toilets. Anna's attentiveness only made it worse. The customers were obtrusive enough but they knew nothing about her need. Having Anna hovering around noticing her every movement gave her the impression that everyone in the room was watching her, taunting, expecting to see the inevitable outcome.
Obtrusion or taunting, either was preferable to the lack of customers that followed the lunchtime rush. Because as the orders died away and the room started to empty, the clock already grinding slowly past 13:00, Anna's full attention was brought to bear on Cliara. As Cliara dispensed with the last customer in the queue, a wave of desperation overtook her. She bent forwards and squeezed the shaft of her penis, feeling an unwanted spurt of liquid force its way out of her bladder and along her urethra. She kept it in by squeezing herself, but the customer looked over and she pretended to be rearranging the shelves. As she let go of herself, the spurt dribbled out of her foreskin, into the front of her skirt, and dripped shamefully onto the floor.
She quickly cleaned up the floor while Anna served the customer, just managing to avoid her notice. No new customer came along, and Anna could no longer be distracted. "Oh honey! You should have said something!"
Cliara had no idea what Anna would have done if she had said anything, even without a penis. "It's alright, I can hold it."
"Come on, there's nobody looking. lets get you some relief." Anna knelt down to bring up the device and service Cliara, who was now pressing the damp bit of skirt onto herself.
"No, no - I just need..."
Anna looked up with confusion and mild worry, and wondered for a moment what to say.
"Look, there's another customer. Please, help me serve!"
Anna stood up reluctantly, and readied the machines while the customer ordered. Another to-go coffee. They failed to notice anything off about Cliara - her tense posture, a smile that was dangerously close to grimace, one knee bent over the other. As soon as the customer moved over to Anna, Cliara had to hold herself again to stop another wave of pressure. She could feel the dampness clinging to her genitals as she pinched the shaft closed again. Looking down, she could clearly see the outline of her penis through the fabric. It was, she thought to herself, rather cute in a way. But this was no place for such a reverie. If she kept at it too long she risked being seen, and then fired.
Anna rounded back on her again as soon as the customer moved off. "Cliara, you clearly need to go. Just go to the toilet like you always do - there's nobody here."
Cliara's face grew red with embarrassment, and her heart beat faster as she tried to figure a way out. "But I can't, I just have to hold it." She waved a hand as Anna started to protest, "I'll be alright, just let me hold it."
But then another wave of desperation overcame her, and she returned to openly grabbing herself. She felt as though she lost control of her bladder completely - her sphincter relaxed against her will. She could feel it open, pee escaping down her urethra and into her shaft. Some even dribbled out the tip of her penis as she returned her grip. Anna could see all of it now, every last detail of her naked body, despite her clothes.
Anna was speechless. Cliara kept a tight hold on her penis, one leg crossed over the other as she faced her friend. She bit her lower lip as she tried to control herself, but she could not close her sphincter. Her bladder muscles stayed contracted, and if she moved her hand even slightly she would surely cover the floor in urine. Anna rushed to the door and locked it, flipping the open/shut sign to keep people out. She then pushed Cliara into the store room, out of sight of the vast glass windows that looked into the cafe.
A chair was at the back of the storeroom, and was usually used for reaching the top shelves. Cliara sank into it, feeling hopeless about her odds of holding out until the end of the day. She finally closed her sphincter again, but was forced to let out the stream of liquid trapped behind her closed penis. It soaked the front of her skirt, and she could feel it seeping between her legs and onto the cushion of the chair.
Anna closed the storeroom door behind her. "What... How...?"
"I don't know! I just woke up this morning with a penis." Cliara was starting to tear up. This was surely the worst possible outcome.
"Oh honey, if only you had told me. Look, I can't fix your dress, but I can help you go before you go home."
"You can't! If I go to the customers' toilets I'll be fired, and if I pee in the cafe people will see!" Cliara was still gripping her penis in a vain hope of maintaining control, leaning back in the chair to accommodate her swollen bladder.
"No, no you can pee in here. My uh... My boyfriend sometimes... well, sometimes I suck him off. And I don't think this will be too different."
Cliara had to do a mental double take, even in her distress. Surely she did not mean what Cliara thought she meant?
"Look - and this is a one time deal - I don't mind drinking your pee for you. I'll have to go soon anyway, my drinks are catching up with me again. I'll just... decant you into the toilet. You can dry yourself off and... well, you decide."
Anna stood awkwardly, staring at Cliara with an expression Cliara was not able to read. Cliara had run out of time to spend thinking, as another wave of urgency nearly caused her to spurt again. "Yes, yes, please!"
Cliara made to stand up, but Anna gently pressed her back into the chair. She lifted Cliara's dress, and pried her hand off her penis. The revealed member twitched with urgency, but remained as soft and pristine as it had that morning. Anna tentatively picked it up with the tips of her fingers, pointing it skywards. A trickle of urine poured out of it as it stood artificially erect.
"Now, when I close my mouth around you, remember to pee slowly. Just like we always do."
Anna lowered her head over Cliara's boyhood, took up the member on her tongue, and closed her lips around the base of the penis. Anna's pink-red lips left only a hint of Cliara's shaft on her body, and she imagined for a moment that she had returned to her usual form. Before she had even consciously decided to urinate, she could feel the flow out of her bladder and through her penis.
Anna's embrace sucked on her with a sensation very similar to the device, albeit rhythmic, wet, and fleshy. With every motion Anna drew away Cliara's urine, pulling the tip of her penis until it pointed straight towards Anna's throat. The small fountain it created slid down the tongue, the shaft, the whole mouth as Anna swallowed. The urine pooled behind her lips until the sucking sensation returned. Cliara leaned her head back as the pressure in her bladder eased, her fullness and the slow steadiness of her release giving her ample time to appreciate the experience.
As her need lessened, the motions of Anna's mouth on her penis caused Cliara to slowly harden. Her stream became interrupted by her own stiffness, and she looked down at Anna apologetically. "Sorry, I... I didn't... I can't..."
Anna winked at her, and stopped her movements. She let waited until Cliara could relax again, and continued drinking her pee. How strange it would have looked to anyone else, Cliara thought, to see a girl sucking on another girl like this. And even stranger to know this was their way of going to the toilet. Her stream lessened, and eventually came to a stop. Cliara released a final couple of spurts as Anna dutifully helped her finish - a hand now over her own crotch. Cliara could feel herself becoming erect again as Anna withdrew her mouth.
It was all over too soon. The release itself had been pleasurable by itself, but the tantalising motions on her sensitive penis after the frustration of that morning had left her wanting so much more. Anna had done far more than her duty however, and, besides, she was already involved with someone. Cliara made use of a box of napkins to start cleaning herself off while Anna cleared the room, presumably to rinse her mouth out and make use of the device again.
Cliara would wait until she looked passable, then she would go home. And oh how she would explore herself at this memory. |
Preface: I want to get better at writing so I want all of your constructive criticism, even if it's something minor like a comma in the wrong place, or annoying formatting. Be as harsh as you want. I'm pretty bad at proof reading.
“Alright people! Ladies, gentlemen, and anyone i’ve missed,” screams a small, messy looking pasty man in John Lennon glasses into a radio mike, patched together with duct tape and sticks. “I don’t care whether you’re listening from your radio, your tv, your computer or your fucking smart fridge. This is old mate Tug Boat,” He sits in his messy studio surrounded by the budget versions of every piece of radio equipment, on his three year old $50 dollar office chair. “We don’t have the mic quality of the big stations, but Sheela and I have all the big hits, and that was Spirit of Radio by Rush.”
His co host, Torres Strait woman, with an amazing hairdo barely held back by her headset cut in, from the other side of the clunky FM equipment on an old desk propped up by calculus textbooks. “And this is ya girl Sheels, and we have a very special guest for you tonight on Mystic 106.6,” She said, casting her eyes past the old studio equipment, and past the slowly degrading posters from prog rock concerts from the 80s, from before she, or Tug Boat, were even alive, to their guest. “Would you like to introduce yourself? Or should we take the honour” She said.
The guest nodded, with a smile, “I kinda want to hear what you guys will say.” she said, sitting on the old ottoman the hosts dragged in from the foyer for her.
Sheels and Tug Boat chucked, and shot each other nasty glances. “Oh man!” Tug began, “Sitting with us now is the woman of power, the booby brain lady,”
Sheels and the guest chuckled nervously,
“Member of The Victory Vixens, caster of Goddamn MIND BULLETS, the telekinetic titties, Miss Danger!”
“Thank you for that, strange, strange introduction Tug, I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended.” Miss Danger said. “I should not be surprised though, I listened to your interview with Minister Geel, and the one with Dominique… the one with that rep from the Sex Party, and every other time you’ve embarassed yourself, ” she trailed off.
“I love a guest who does their research!” Sheels said. “So, before we really get into it, are there any topics you don’t want us to delve into? And are there any things you want to bring up before we…”
“Plug those depths!” Tug Boat cut in. “bring the conversation down to the sewers! Pretend to do investigative journalism,”
“So,” Sheels said, “um. Start the conversation I was going to say.”
“Sorry,” Tug Said, “I just got excited, I have so many questions, so many things I badly want to cover, and we don’t have that much time with you, do we?”
Miss Danger took a deep breath leaned in to the mic, like she was the announcer in Chicago. “I guess, for all your listeners who live under rocks. I’m a super powered individual with telekinetic and psychic powers, I’m a core member of The Victory Vixens. I normally fight to protect the people of New Sydney, and do all I can to help Australia, and sometimes the greater world”
“Did you practice that beforehand? Do you have that written down.” Tug asked.
“I need it for like, school and workplace tours, and all the generic PR stuff I end up doing”
“Wait, wait wait,” Sheels said, gesticulating frantically, trying not to laugh. Tug started laughing. “In your costume?” Sheels continued. “Like, at schools, in your costume? At schools? The Costume you’re wearing now?”
Tug muted his mic and threw his head back laughing. It was a futile effort though, as the other mics in the studio picked it up.
Sheels leaned in to her mic, put on a serious face, and calmly said. “For those listening at home, Tug just died, like, really dead. Like, I need you to stand facing the sunrise and play last post, died... He’ll be back in five, he needs to calm down.” She shot a sideways glance at Miss Danger, and let out a deep and windy sigh, “Yeah people, just like when we had The Legendary Hobo on.” She rolled her eyes. Miss, now seeing this strange radio dynamic play out in person suddenly put a few of the puzzle pieces.
Tug clumsily stood up and stumbled out the recording studio knocking equipment and wires, as he shoved his fist in his mouth to stop the noise. He slammed the door behind him.
“So I guess we start with the costume, then, Sheels.” Miss Danger said, nervously as she, more so than any of the other core Vixens, is a controversial figure, not for any material reason, or so Miss Danger thinks, it’s purely the pearl clutching wine mums, priests of this and that, who can’t handle seeing a bit of skin here and there… and there…. And there....
Tug’s laugh in the distance managed to overpower the sound proofing, and still picked up on the un-muted mics.
Through the studio window Miss Danger saw a few tears appear at the edges of Tug’s eyes.
“Now, because this is radio, and some people, who live under rocks, or in the past, or in other dimensions, or in their own world, or whatever the fuck else.... Or may be literally dead, may not have seen your costume, I’m gonna try my best to describe it.”
Miss Danger smiled, “definitely better than Tug trying to. I think we both know what he’d spend his time talking about.” gesturing towards her chest.
Tug still stood outside the studio, hand jammed in mouth, convulsing with laughter and going red.
“Well,” Sheels said nervously. “They are like… right there.” A few seconds of awkward pause hung in the air. “Anyway, for those out in radio land, Miss Danger is in her costume right now, and if you haven’t seen it before, it’s like a white, one piece swimsuit. But it’s backless, sideless, with a neckline that goes almost all… all the way down. It’s got some arm bands, some epaulettes and a cute Hussar cape. So, Miss Danger. It’s a very extreme costume, compared to the rest of The Vixens, especially compared to Misha’s body armour and heavy shields.”
“Well,” Miss Danger began, “Misha can’t fly or use psychic shielding. I need something lightweight to be able to fly properly, and if I have a psychic shield…” Miss Danger trailed off, and then paused and furrowed her brow for a moment.” casting her eyes around the studio, thinking about how truthful she wanted to be, she knows that anything she says on radio here will be listened to by possibly tens of listeners, maybe even dozens, to say nothing of on demand listening later down the line. What she says here, may indeed impact public perception of her, and may in fact reflect on The Victory Vixens on the whole.
“Honey, you ok over there?” Sheels said, brows furrowing.
“Yeah, I just had to do a big think for a moment.” Miss Danger said with a sharp smile, returning with a renewed confidence and vigor. “Honestly, the main reason, and in the spirit of you and Tug’s Show, I’m going to be blunt, and right to the point, and reach my arm right in to the sewer. (and by the way, I have a more conservative version of the costume when I’m at schools.) is I want to look, and feel sexy,”
Tug burst back into the room and powered over to his decrepit mic and chair. “And girl, it fucking works.”
“look good to feel good, healthy body begets healthy mind,” Miss continued
“Aww,” Sheels sighed, “ and I thought we were going to have a civil discussion about something for once.” she sent a wry look at Tug.
“That’s our bitch queen of the radio waves, being her normal self.” Tug responded.
“Thanks Tug, really value your input.” Sheels winked. “Now I realised we didn’t do the proper intro. This show’s already off the rails, everything is already a nightmare, As often happens when Tug talks to normal humans. Are there any topics you don’t want us to talk about?”
Miss Danger sat back on the old ottoman. “Look, I’m a long time listener, I know the kinds of things you bring up. I know the ACCC has issues with you. So let me say this. I’m not gonna talk political opinion, and I’m not gonna talk about that sort of stuff, but I’ll happily talk about the time I pooped myself on a date, the time I got trapped in Ouze, and other faux pas, also, how I came up with my costume.” she conceded: “ since we’re already on that topic.”
Tug’s smile spread from ear to ear, and was threatening to leave his face entirely. “Oh, this is going to be perfect. This is exactly what I was after,” Miss wasn’t looking, but she was pretty sure that the degenerate radio host was standing to attention in his ancient cargo shorts.
“Oh! That’s another reason why I chose this costume.” Miss Danger said, gesturing to her crotch.
Sheels clicked a few buttons on her laptop and signalled something to Tug. Tug nodded.
Tug started giggling like a bigger than normal idiot, adjusting his glasses “easy access for a cheeky post fight fuck?”
“Mate, do I need to send you to the naughty corner?” Sheels said, angrily, sending the glare of the century in his direction, he just responded with a bit of a laugh.
“Well, as a human being, I sometimes gotta pee. Sometimes I gotta pee real bad. Sometimes in a lull in a mission I gotta find a quiet rooftop and pop a super squat. I have the easiest costume in The Vixens to pee in.”
“Fairo, girl.” Sheels said. “Those moments can be tough for us girls.”
Tug leaned in to his mic, the smile still there, looking more sinister if anything. The women shot glances at each other, Miss; questioning, Sheels; apologetic. Tug began, “Do you, or any of The Vixens, ever like,” the smile went from sinister to curious. Legitimate concern flashed across Sheels’ face. Tug Finished, “not make it?”
Concern changed to fear, Sheels butted in. “That’s right listeners, quality Mystic 106.6 content right here, talking about adult women having pee emergencies, and we’ll be right back after our guest’s first song. Wanna set this up hun?”
“An old favourite from before I became powered, an old boyfriend got me on to; Steve Miller Band’s Fly Like an Eagle.”
Sheels mashed enter and leaned back in her chair letting out a deep and meaningful sigh. “Fuck me. This is why we got a superhero on the show, to talk about whether she makes it to the toilet on time.”
Miss Danger got a wry smile across her face. “I mean, this is cutting edge journalism.”
“Fucking fuck me, for fuck’s sake” Sheels said, Miss Danger had no idea one of her favourite radio hosts had such a potty mouth. Sheels sank deeper into the budget office chair. Soon it’d be threatening to swallow her whole, like an Officeworks Kraken.
“I mean, Have you heard of any other journalists who have talked about this topic?” Miss Danger said, “you two are the lead on this topic, breaking new journalistic ground.”
“Ain’t it fucking exciting Queen Sheila?” Tug broke in, “we have an exclusive with booby brain lady about the normal lives of our great heroes. Humanising, and closing the gap between us and them. Showing the world how our inspirations are just like us, and suffer the same indignities as us, that there’s more to our heroes than costumes and otherworldly powers.”
“Oh god I’m trapped in a room with two of them.” Sheels sank deeper into the Officeworks Kraken. “But, I guess that is a good point. Or maybe I’m just going insane. Booby…. Sorry, he’s rubbing off on me, Miss Danger, are you ok with this topic?”
“Entirely. I knew what I was getting into when I came on this show. Do I have some stories for you. I appreciate your concern though, hun. Also, I think it’s a shame that the one time your boy Tug said something smart it was off air.”
The three shared a good laugh. Sheels seemed to regain some life and win the fight against the Officeworks Kraken. “Ok people, we’re back on in thirty seconds. I’ll introduce the story, Tug asks the question again,” She glared at him, “more sensibly this time, and then it’s all on you Miss Danger.” her compatriots of the radio room both nodded.
As the last few bars of the Steve Miller song faded out, Sheels mimed a five second countdown on her fingers. “Welcome back to Mystic, listeners to our tell all talk with Miss Danger. Sorry for the abrupt song break but Tug and I needed to confer with Miss Danger privately. Anyway, where we left off was a question from our esteemed Tug Boat, wanna set this up?”
Tug ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his glasses, made a big dramatic show of clearing his throat, and began. “Something I’ve always thought about, and I’m sure a number of our listeners think about as well, is ‘do our heroes ever have to deal with normal human shit?’ do you ever get parking tickets, burn your steaks, suffer breakups, or have embarrassing moments, like, say, pee-pee moments.”
Sheels shot a shocked glance at Tug.
Miss Danger started with a bit of a chuckle, as a nervous flutter entered her stomach, and she felt something lower down as well. “I’m here to tell your listeners that, yes on all counts, I’ve had bad break ups, got parking tickets, burned my food, and tying it back to before the song, peed my pants.” she began again, with nervous laughter. “In fact, that last one happens to me a lot more than it should, for a woman of my age. Like, I risk it whenever I laugh, get too drunk, and a few other situations. In fact, the stresses of the superhero life make it happen more than it used to.”
Tug looked enthralled.
“In fact, let me tell you the story from my first mission with the Vixens, and first mission in the costume. This wasn’t long after my powers had awakened, about two years back I would have been about 23. It was the battle of Sydney. Dominique, the lady with supernatural accuracy and I had been assigned to run defence on the harbour area while the main team drew the enemy force away from the city. Dominique sat perched on the Opera House, keeping an eye for any more of these aquatic bastards to turn up, I spent most of my time flying around the streets and the park area. Dommie and I idly chatted about a bunch of things, from Vixen life, to how our friends were doing, to my costume and her lack of costume.” Miss stuttered, “not to say she was nude, to say that she just wore normal ADF combat gear, as she was sort of our military attache. Anyway, so I flew over to Pinchgut Island, that little island in the harbour with the old timey fort turned pizza joint on it, and there was one of the bastards hiding. I notified Dommie, in fact, I think my exact words were, ‘we got an armoured fucker in the historic site hun!’ He was a big one, covered in rocks, chunks of boat, and coral. He’d been there for a while, as he was no longer dripping. I got his attention by telekenetic-ing a few chairs at him. He didn’t like that, and being a newbie, I didn’t notice his armament. He shot back. With some kind of thrown together shitcannon. Rapidly. Most shots bounced off the shield. One got me in the arm. I got flustered and worried, and I flew to hide on the other side of the building, the one on the Opera House side. I think my thought process was something like fuckfuckfuckfuck, i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, fuckfuckfuckfuck.”
Sheels said, “a fair enough feeling.”
“ When I came back to my senses I heard a pitter-patter on the ground, I looked around to see where it was coming from, and then I looked down, and I saw it. The crotch of my costume was going bright yellow, a stream of fear was gushing from it, and a puddle of shame was forming around my feet. I glanced over to the opera house to see if Dommy had noticed my humiliation. If she did, she didn’t say anything. This was the worst day of my life, first mission with The Vixens and i’ve already showed them I’m a little pissy pants.” Miss Danger chuckled. “I wanted to wait at least until the post mission celebration to show them that.”
Tug and Sheela laughed.
“But I didn’t know this at the time, but it was about to get a whole, whole lot worse. While I was too focussed on peeing myself, the armoured bastard closed around the corner and opened fire again. This time the loud crack of firing shook me to my core, I flew away, fear still dripping from my yellowed crotch, and running down my thighs. I landed on the roof. Dommie kindly, and calmly asked me to try and make a hole in the armour, as she now had the beast in sight. By this point I was a real sight. Face bright red, tears in my eyes, pee stained costume, pee stained legs, and about to cry. But I mustered my last strength, and fueled by fear, I went airborne again, flew towards the big fucker, screaming in a combination of fear, rage, and humiliation. Using my left hand I grabbed for the fucker’s gun, and with the right, I tried to rip his helmet off. This must have looked funny to an outsider, I was a good ten meters away using telekinesis for both of these things. It took most of this second wind, but I got the helmet off, and the second I did, two bullets went into his head. Perfect. Dead centre. He fell over listless, dead. I felt a huge wave of relief, the worst experience of my life was over. I floated to the ground, still bright red, still on the verge of full on bawling. I landed, but my legs weren’t going to take my weight. I collapsed. There was a squish when I landed.”
“You don’t mean?” Sheels said, emphatically.
Tug just laughed. He looked like he was loving life right now.
“A jolt of fear ran up my spine as I found the energy to stand again. Then I smelt it. Shaking and quaking, I felt the back of my costume. There it was, between my ass-cheeks, a big, solid, pile of evidence that I’m a terrified little mouse with telekinetic powers. My worst day got even worse. At that point, I just gave up, went in to foetal position on the ground and gave in to the fear. I began bawling my eyes out, made my costume even more yellow and brown. I must have passed out or something, because the next thing I remember is the rest of The Vixens helping me to my feet, and back to our base on Goat Island. So, listeners, remember, no matter how bad your first day on a new job was, mine was worse.
“Thank you so much for sharing that story with us honey,” Sheels said, “That must have been hard to do. How did the rest of The Vixens take it?”
“They were mostly really supportive, a few of them even shared their own similar stories. Though,” Miss Danger said with an embarrassed chuckle, “not one of them was as bad as mine. Not one of them involved crying your eyes out in a stew of piss AND shit.” She left a pause for comedic effect. “It was one or the other.”
Sheels and Tug forced down laughter.
“So let that be a lesson to all of you. Even superheroes cry, even superheroes feel fear, even superheroes sometimes even shit their costume. This is when I learned something about superheroes that makes so much sense when you think about it. All of The Vixens have like, five spares of their costume. Some are even kept in the team jet. You know, in case of damage... Or poop.”
“Alright listeners,” Tug said, “we’ll be back after these short messages from our sponsors, feel free to call in on our number or text us questions for Miss Danger,” |
I'm not entirely sure which forum this one should go in. I responded to a request by someone, in which they asked for a story about a girl with bladder incontinence who is forced to spend the day without her diaper. If this should be moved into omutsu, please let me know.
I also didn't expect this to get as long as it did. Wrote it in practically one sitting, and it's over 4,200 words.
Warning before reading, this has been adapted from the request. This story is omorashi-centric, but also has a main character in her late teens who experiences bullying, public humiliation, and coerced sexual behaviour.
The Girls at School
Samantha was a very prim and proper girl. Small and wiry, she had a streak of pride about her that drove her to work hard at her studies, appearance, and hobbies. Growing up in a moderately conservative household, she disdained her classmates' obsession with makeup, messy hair, and overly short skirts. Samantha's dirty blonde hair was almost always tied back into a bun or pony tail, though occasionally she opted for braids. She kept her belongings tidy, and would help her mother iron her clothes in the evening. She would even polish her school shoes.
But Samantha had a shame that she carried with her at all times. She was born with a small bladder, and regularly had difficulties in making it to a toilet when she needed to go. Notes to teachers from her doctor could only go so far in helping her, and she was forced to wear incontinence pads most of the time. Her preference for wearing trousers had to be modified to suit this, of course. Tight jeans-like black trousers were the fashion for her school uniform, but the uniform instructions only specified that girls wear "trousers or skirt, black". To Samantha this meant she could wear the boy's standard of trousers. Its crotch area accommodated enough space for their genitals, and would suit her need for padding. Albeit, she had to wear a size bracket one or two down than expected for her age.
The pads were not too intrusive with these trousers, though the fact that they replaced any normal underwear for her brought difficulties in gym classes. Instead of changing with the other girls, she would change in a toilet cubicle. By now most girls had asked her why she did this, and her excuse was that she was too shy to undress in front of the others. Her preference for boy's trousers had caused some speculation however. Rumours started circulating that she was actually a boy. Her slim form belied her gender, she supposed, having not grown very prominent breasts.
Samantha could have lived with the rumours, except for a gang of particularly nasty girls. The nastiest among them, Sarah, had recently taken to following her around at break and lunchtime. Sarah would call her names like "bender", or "perv", and when nobody was looking she would push Samantha, or pull her hair. Sarah's friends were all in on it, and kept spreading new rumours about her. It didn't take long before Samantha had found herself with practically no friends in her classes, and Sarah's gang increased the time they spent with her. Not that she would ever let anyone know how much this hurt. She knew that her refusal to cry or even object only infuriated Sarah more, but it was the only revenge Samantha was going to get for now.
But as Samantha made her way to school early one morning, Sarah would step further past Samantha's boundaries than she had ever before.
* * *
Samantha had only just passed through the school's main entrance, when Sarah started following her again. There was ten minutes until morning register, then two classes of forty-five minutes each, followed by morning break. Samantha would go to the toilet before she left home, but preferred a second go before register if she could. Sarah quickly caught up with her, and started her usual routine.
"So, perv, what are you doing today?"
Samantha said nothing.
"What, nothing? If you did nothing you would be truant or something."
Samantha quickened her pace, looking for a teacher before anything happened.
Sarah kept following, but as Samantha made to turn towards the reception desk - which had a unisex disabled toilet and a member of staff watching - Sarah grabbed her shoulder.
"Since you're clearly not busy, you're coming with me."
The pair of them wheeled around, and exited the building through a door opposite the reception. This took them onto a large paved area, often used for lunchtime gathering and sports, that connected the main building to two additional buildings and a large grassy field. Up ahead was one of the additional buildings, filled with workshops, and Sarah dragged Samantha over to it. She quickly shovelled her into a large storage cupboard, filled with bits of wood, metal, and various hand tools.
Samantha's heart plummeted as she realised who was in the cupboard with her. The entire gang had showed up: four girls plus Sarah and herself. Two girls took each of Samantha's arms and pinned her to a wall, as Sarah stood in front of her and eyed her suspiciously.
"Well. I didn't think it would be this easy!" She started grinning. "Look, it's been fun talking about how you might be a boy, but after all this time I just really want to know..."
She slowly unbuttoned the top of Samantha's trousers. "I've just been so curious - you always sit with the girls, go into the girls' room, talk and act like a girl. But you're even more flat-chested than my cousin - he's a boy by the way - and you wear boy's trousers."
She unzipped Samantha's trousers pointedly, "and if after all this time you've been lying to us about who you really are, I think we deserve to know!"
She yanked Samantha's trousers off, causing them to pool at her ankles. The five girls gawped at her legs, and what was there instead of panties.
"Oh my god, what is this? Sammy, is this what I think it is? Oh no! Oh poor you! You can't control your bladder, can you?"
The girls started laughing, and one of them poked at her incontinence pad.
"Hey, Sarah" chimed another of the girls, "what if she's still a boy? We can't see anything through this."
Sarah reached down to the padding, and slowly peeled it away from her body. "Oh. Well that's disappointing. I suppose you were just too scared of us finding out about this to change with us. Well, as a punishment for leading us on like this, I'll be keeping this. And any others you might have with you."
One of the girls rifled through Samantha's schoolbag while the others stared at her naked lower half, giggling. Tears brimmed in Samantha's eyes and she tried to cover herself with her now free hands, but the girls pulled her hands away. Before they could get any new ideas, the bell rang, signalling the start of the day. Sarah's girls left quickly, and Samantha dressed herself once more.
***
Between the end of register and the start of break there was no real chance to go to the toilet. But neither did Sarah or her friends share the first two classes with her. Samantha drank her supply of water in these lessons out of habit, even though she knew that some liquid would still be filtering into her bladder from breakfast. If she needed to go she would simply ask the teacher and be let out, and with her doctor's note she could even do this just a few minutes before break. She tried to avoid over-using this power though, lest any teacher think she was using it as an excuse to get out of working.
The first lesson, maths, passed pretty quickly as it was her strongest subject. She consumed about half of her 500ml water bottle while concentrating hard on her work, and failed to notice the impact this had on her bladder until the class began filing out of the room for the next lesson. She could feel that her bladder was starting to fill, but it was futile to try asking for a toilet break now. The first lesson's teacher might say yes, but then she would have to explain to the next teacher why she missed the start of the lesson (which was always the most important part).
Samantha decided to sit through the first part of the next lesson, English, and then ask to leave. She never failed to catch up on work mid-lesson, and would be in the best place to figure out how to avoid Sarah during break. She dutifully marched into class with everyone else, and sat herself at a table at the back of the room. Tables in this room were lined in columns facing the teacher, and this table was on the rightmost column - placed against a wall. She got out her things - notebook and pencilcase - and put them in order.
To her mild surprise and annoyance, a boy sat next to her. She had seen him in this class before, but did not even know his name. She never really paid attention to who responded to the start-of-class register. This was going to be slightly inconvenient when she got up to pee, but was otherwise not a problem. Register was called, rolling through the alphabet to "Silvia, Samantha", to which she responded. More names were called out until "Williams, Aden", to which the boy responded.
The teacher soon launched into a lecture on grammar, while the class took notes. Samantha absent-mindedly started sipping her water again, making sure that she knew what apostrophes were for. Tongue sticking out her mouth as she quickly wrote in her book, she failed to notice that the boy was taking no notes at all. It was not long before Samantha's need returned to her, all the stronger for having kept drinking. She paused in her notes for a moment and considered whether it was the right time to leave. Break would have to be spent avoiding Sarah, and the lesson after that would be with her. Samantha would be best served peeing as late into the lesson as possible, but her small bladder had a habit of not letting her last as long as she might like.
She let another few minutes go by - the teacher now setting the classwork and handing out worksheets - and soon decided. Setting down her pen, and neatly placing it next to the mostly empty water bottle, Samantha made to raise her hand. Halfway through the motion though, a hand grabbed her forearm and pushed it against her side. She struggled against it, and tried to push him away, but Aiden gave her a look of amused interest and put a finger to his mouth.
"I knew you didn't know me. I'm Sarah's boyfriend."
Samantha felt the same anxious and apprehensive feeling she had felt upon being forced into the cupboard. This was too much for one day. Aiden waited for her to stop struggling, and then continued. "Sarah told me about you, last lesson. I had no idea you were a pants-wetter! I did wonder if you were a boy, too, but now that we know..." He grinned.
Samantha's bladder felt uncomfortably full, and her urge to pee met with her embarrassment and impending shame, nearly tearing up her eyes again. "Please let me go, I can't hold it very long" she whispered urgently.
Aiden looked very obviously down at her lap, then into her eyes. "You know, the other girls seem to think that tight clothes are sexier, more revealing, but looking at you now I'm not so sure they're right."
Samantha looked down at her lap. Her girlish form, now without any padding, was revealed in its soft curvature between her legs. The shape of the boys' trousers, designed for someone bulkier, did nothing to hide it. Her cheeks flushed red, and she moved her book to cover herself - her lack of any underwear gave her the feeling that the boy could see straight through those trousers.
"What, wet yourself already?"
"N-no."
"Well good. Wouldn't want that seat getting wet."
Samantha tried to end this conversation by going back to her work. Aiden let her play up the ruse for a while as the teacher started talking again. If she could hold on until break, maybe she could run from Aiden before Sarah came over... She would undoubtedly leak by then. She could already feel her bladder protesting, and there was still twenty minutes to go. She turned to him.
"Please let me go. I don't know why Sarah is doing this but it's not right."
"Go where?" He said, feigning ignorance.
"To... to the toilet" she mumbled in response, looking away as she did.
"Oh no, I want to see how this turns out." Aiden then pulled a water bottle out of his bag and set it down next to hers. It was another 500ml bottle, filled to the brim with water. "I always bring two of these so I don't have to refill at lunch, but this is much more fun. Tell you what. If you can drink the entire bottle without losing control and peeing yourself, I will tell Sarah to leave you alone."
Samantha's heart beat faster. There was no way that she could do it. Maybe if she drank it quickly and ran straight to the girls' room... But her bladder contracted, and she felt a slight warmth between her lips. She pressed one hand into her crotch as the other tightened its grip on her pen. Her heart fluttered at the feeling. Without her padding she had no safety net, and without it she could feel every facet of her girlhood through the fabric of her trousers. It was an unfamiliar, but weirdly exciting feeling.
"Come on, I think we can skip the rest of this class and the next one. That should give us enough time." Aiden raised his hand. The teacher waved at him, and he marched to the front of the class. He whispered something in the teacher's ear, and the teacher nodded. Returning to Samantha, who was now bent forwards slightly and trying to disguise her desperation by resting her left forearm on her lap, and staring into her notebook in a faux reading position. It was not effective - she was practically digging her elbow into her leg as her forearm tensed against the right knee, hand tightened into a fist.
"I've told the teacher you're not feeling well. Pack up your things and come with me."
***
Aiden led her out of class and down a corridor, turning right at the end, and continuing down another corridor. Samantha's dignity was already lost to Aiden, and she kept squeezing herself every few steps. Aiden soon stopped, and turned left to face a short corridor with one door leading out towards the field, and another into...
"Is that the boy's changing room?"
"Hell yeah! Best place for us. There won't be anybody in here until after third period. By my count that gives us..." Aiden checked his watch, "an hour and twenty minutes."
Samantha gave him a reproachful look as he put a hand on her back and lightly pushed her towards the door. The changing room was hidden from the door opening by a wall, which opened up into a large room full of benches. Most were around the room, but some were placed like dividers to maximise the amount of seating. At the backs of each bench was a metal frame with hooks for bags. Continuing along the wall led to a small restroom, and as Aiden led her into the changing area she could see a row of sinks, a couple of urinals, and a damaged-looking cubicle at the end of the room.
Aiden took Samantha's bag, and set both their bags onto one of the benches. He brought out the water bottle again, and offered it to her. The room felt very cold, very real now that they were alone together. Butterflies seemed to flutter in her stomach as she followed Aiden's lead and took the bottle. Her bladder was already full, pee already starting to come out. She squeezed her lips together, reluctantly feeling an almost masturbatory pleasure as she did so. She crossed her legs and leaned back against one of the walls, knees clearing the low bench.
The first mouthful of water was not so difficult, but it would hasten her impending accident. She really had no choice. Aiden was much stronger than her, so she had no chance of escaping him. She paused to let the water go down, wishing Aiden would stop staring at her, and hoping she could avoid wetting herself - or at least holding enough in to win the deal. She made to take a second drink, but Aiden stopped her.
"Oh no, not so fast." He took the bottle from her. "That's enough for now. I'm not going to make this easy. Sarah really likes playing with you, so I want my time's worth here."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, pressing her firmly into the wall, and ran his other hand down her stomach. He stopped as his fingers slid lightly over the area of her bladder, and tapped his fingers onto her. Samantha squirmed under his pressure and nearly squealed as she fought back a dribble of urine that threatened to escape her. Aiden lifted her pressed shirt, and examined the region of her belly.
He pressed his fingers in again, as though searching for something. Samantha's bladder hurt, and tried to expel its contents again. She gripped her girlhood with both hands, her own fingers practically crushed between her thighs, and closed her eyes. She could not remember being this desperate to pee. The comfort of her padding always let her leaks go unnoticed, and she could even empty herself into them if she had to. Holding on for this long was something she never normally had to do, least of all with someone watching.
"Oh Samantha, I'm not sure you need to go to the toilet at all! I've teased Sarah whenever she really needed to pee, and she was always much more full than this."
Samantha quietly squealed in protest as she squirmed, Aiden only removing his hand as she did so. "Please, I really do need to!"
"Need to what?"
"I need to go to the toilet!"
Aiden pressed into her bladder again, saying "clearly not enough."
He let go of her, and she bent forwards with the pain. Aiden offered the bottle again. She took a mouthful, and he removed it. He pressed her back against the wall with one hand, and ran that hand up her chest, up her neck, and to her chin. He stared into her pleading eyes as he lifted her chin into a more regal position. He pushed her arms back to her sides, and made her uncross her legs. She immediately pressed her thighs together. Aiden kept her in that position.
Samantha stayed in that position, with Aiden eyeing her up, for an uncomfortably long time. She could feel her body attempt to dispense more water into her bladder, but it could take no more. Her bladder contracted, and she clenched her fists and bent her hands back in the only movement Aiden would allow, opening the vulnerability of her wrists as she tried to hold back her urge. It subsided for a moment, and then a moment longer. Aiden took to staring into her eyes again.
Another wave of desperation overcame her, and she repeated the movement from before. She could feel her mounting urge right through her urethra, and for a moment it was as though her existence emanated from her girlhood. Unable to take it any longer, she bent forwards and shoved her hands into her crotch, but was unable to stop a sliver of urine spurting out. It formed a rivulet sliding down her right leg, the trousers poorly placed for absorption. A knot formed in her throat and tears welled in her eyes for the second time that day, as shame started to take over.
Aiden straightened her up, now not leaning against the wall. Legs straight, separated at the feet by a few inches. Back straight, as though she had no urges at all. Arms at her side once more. Samantha felt like a doll being played with as Aiden's hands made her body his own. Aiden took a picture with his phone before she moved out of position. He now fed her water from the bottle, permitting another mouthful.
He wrapped an arm around her comfortingly, and pressed her head into his embrace. "It's okay, you'll be alright. You can keep holding on, just another couple of mouthfuls. Then I'll let you pee."
Aiden had to move her hands away from her crotch again, and replaced them with his own hand. His firm press felt comfortable, and reminiscent of her padding. She nearly relaxed into his hand, but stopped herself, pressing her thighs together again, before she broke the deal. She felt his fingers exploring her sex through the fabric of the trousers, rubbing her on either side of her lips, and then between them. It felt intrusive and enjoyable at the same time. His hand moved with surety and comforted her even as he pleasured her.
She gave into the sensation, preferable as it was to the ongoing pain and humiliation. He moved faster, in time with her own breathing, now becoming rhythmic. She shut her eyes and leaned back her head in acceptance. Pleasure mounted, but her urge to pee rose again. She placed her hands over his, still locked in embrace, and tensed. Aiden stopped his movements and gripped her tightly, in time to feel a spurt of urine wet the front of her trousers. His firm press helped her hold back until she regained control of herself, and then resumed the movements.
Her breathing quickened, and his hand followed suit. She bent forwards as she approached climax. The realisation hit her that her orgasm would crush her bladder, as a wave of pleasure transformed into a wave of desperation and pain as her bladder tried to reject its contents again. Aiden once more pressed into her until she regained control, with only a dribble escaping. More movements, quicker. She tried to calm herself, to resist his masturbation, to protect her aching bladder, but it was no use. Another wave, and another near forfeit.
Samantha moaned in (dis)pleasure at the fast approaching conclusion, and Aiden tightened his embrace. She tried to push his hand away from the focus of her pleasure, but found her wrists locked in Aiden's other hand as he stood behind her. She bent forwards, mouthing incoherent protest, and squealed as the orgasm overcame her. The pressure on her poor bladder was unlike anything else. Her legs buckled until she was supported only by Aiden, her weight leaning into his dampening hand.
Aiden let her go. She sank to her knees and thrust both hands into her crotch again. She sobbed with pain and shame as a prominent streak of dampness slid down her right leg, almost reaching her knee. Aiden pulled her head back, looked into her tearful face, and thrust the water bottle into her mouth. She began shaking, practically vibrating as she accepted the remaining water. Tears slid down her face, and she massaged the area of her bladder with a damp hand in a futile attempt to console herself. Aiden pulled the bottle away with just a sliver of water left within it.
He made her stand up, and turned her to face him. She looked downwards, staring blankly into his chest. He lifted her chin again until she looked into his eyes. They were soft now, almost sympathetic but still with a look of imperiousness.
"It's nearly over. You may now pee - not here, but over there." He pointed at the restroom behind her. "If you follow this last instruction, I'll let you drink the last of the water. Then it'll be all over, and Sarah won't be bothering you anymore."
"A-alright" she whispered, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of a hand, "what do I have to do?"
Aiden walked her into the restroom, and stood her in front of a urinal. Samantha, a hand still gripping herself as tightly as possible, felt a knot in her throat.
"I-I can't." She stammered hoarsely, turning her head to look at Aiden.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a girl, I can't... I can't use it!"
"I thought you needed to pee?" Aiden pushed her a step forward, until she loomed over the urinal as though she was about to use it.
Aiden slid his hand between hers and the zipper of her trousers, and unzipped her. He withdrew his hand, and Samantha quickly covered herself with both hands. She began to cry. This was not the tearfulness or minor sobbing of moments ago, but hopeless crying as she felt like she hit a dead end. She lost control of herself, mere inches from a hypothetical relief, urinating into her hands like they counted as a replacement for her padding. Her legs crossed themselves as she urinated, and streaks of dark wetness combined into a soaking of her trouser legs. Pee cascaded through her fingers as her open zipper futilely tried to facilitate peeing into the urinal.
Aiden stepped back as she did this, observing her from the side. When it was over, he sighed as the tension in the room lightened.
"Close enough I think. Don't worry, you'll not be seeing much of Sarah ever again."
***
Edited August 24, 2020 by Wrakkar
(see edit history) |
I wrote this story as an X-Men fanfic commission! Thanks to the commissioner for contributing many of these ideas.
Before starting my X-Men knowledge was rusty as hell so I hope the characters feel right. It's a mixture of comic books, movies and even a bit of MCU. I'll post it a few chapters at a time until the whole thing is on this thread. I hope you all like it. All characters are adults, of course.
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Staring into the mirror, she still didn’t know how to feel about what she saw: long, red hair flowing over each shoulder; eyes that seemed deep as a well; a face that was starting to grow aged prematurely by the weight of experience. Most women wouldn’t have such sombre thoughts while waiting for a free stall in a bathroom, but Jean Grey was not most women.
She had never been much good at waiting. Particularly, it had to be said, waiting for the toilet. The issue had only gotten worse as the the X-Mansion grew busier, and since the academy had hit capacity it had been harder than ever to find a spare cubicle in a tight spot. It irritated Jean that she was stuck in a line to do something as trivial as emptying her bladder, especially when she had places to be. Her class was in five minutes and while her need to pee wasn’t pressing yet, Jean knew from experience that she would regret it if she didn’t go before the lesson started. So there she stood, tapping her foot impatiently. The next stall would be hers soon and she could rid herself of the weight in her bladder and be on her way.
The door swung open. Usually, Jean wouldn’t take any notice, but the violent force with which it moved caught her attention. She turned and was surprised to see Storm, who Jean had almost never seen in a bathroom of any kind before. She looked out of breath.
“Jean, there you are,” Storm said with evident relief, “I’ve been looking for you. I have something important to show you”. Jean was taken by surprise, and it took her a few seconds to digest what was going on. She gestured towards the toilet cubicles, all of which had been occupied for several minutes now. From the smells in the room, it wasn’t hard to guess why.
“Can it wait?” Jean asked, hoping she was hinting sufficiently that she needed to use the bathroom, “I mean, is it… urgent?”
“It’s pretty big, Jean. You’re going to want to see this”.
Jean didn’t want to push the matter any further- she couldn’t without giving away that she had to pee, which was something she was still embarrassed to admit to other people. So she gave up and followed Storm out of the bathroom. She practically had to jog to keep up with the other woman as they dashed through the maze of corridors towards the ground-floor medical ward. They breezed through the security and into the restricted section. When, finally, they arrived outside of a guarded room, Storm simply nodded in the direction of the tiny square window on the door.
“Just tell me what’s in there,” Jean demanded. She wasn’t in the mood for games. But Storm was insistent.
“See for yourself,” she said.
So Jean peered into the room, which was empty but for a single figure on a bed- a man, she realised. He looked badly beaten and bruised, but otherwise unremarkable. For a while Jean wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be looking at… then the penny dropped. She gasped.
“Is that who I think it is?”
“David Haller,” Storm confirmed, “Legion”. Jean could see it now, clear as day- beneath the bruising was a young-looking man, the son of Charles Xavier. “Scott brought him in this morning, Professor’s orders. It’s all being kept quiet for now, if you don’t mind…”
For a few seconds, Jean was transfixed. One of the most dangerous people on the planet captured and locked in a room in the Mansion was the last thing she’d expected that day. Soon, though, she snapped out of it.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” she muttered, “I have a class to teach. We’ll discuss this later”. With that, she turned on the spot and marched back towards the room where she was supposed to be teaching in (she checked her watch) less than two minutes. Well, no pee break for me, she thought bitterly. Whether it was the speed that Storm had made her walk or the shock of seeing David, her need to urinate had only increased over the last few minutes. But she never liked to be late for a class, so she walked right past the bathroom and into the next door along.
Her students for the day were already there, peppered across the desks in a mismatched fashion. Dani Moonstar had a front-row seat, books and stationary already out and ready on her table. A few spaces away, looking considerably less studious, sat Laura Kinney. Laura had always been a bit of a loner, not unlike her father- she seemed to prefer sitting in the corner. The rest of the class was made up of the three they called the Stepford Cuckoos- Celeste, Mindee and Phoebe- and a quiet new girl Jean only knew as Kelly. At the back of the room, Emma Frost was perched on a plastic chair. She wasn’t thrilled to be there, but Professor X had insisted that she sat in on a few classes and observed Jean’s teaching.
As she greeted her class of six, Jean was starting to worry about the pressure in her bladder. An hour-long class was a long time to hold it, and she couldn’t just nip out in the middle to pee. After all, she prided herself on professionalism. That meant her only real option was to grit her teeth, cross her legs and hope it didn’t grow too urgent while she taught. Silently, she cursed Storm for interrupting her bathroom break, even though it was for a good reason.
"Okay, girls, today's class: advanced telepathy," Jean began, hoping that she could make it through the whole session without any of her students realising her predicament. It was going to be a long hour.
—————————————————————————————————————————————
He didn’t move. He didn’t talk. He barely even breathed. A casual observer would’ve been forgiven for thinking he had died, but as he stared into the distance with unblinking eyes, David Haller was very much alive. Every square inch of his stiffly body ached, and yet his mind had never been more active. They had come back- the voices in his head, back again, not that he could be surprised. They were always there. Sometimes quiet, sometimes loud, always thirsty for power over one another. They wanted revenge. Nobody captured Legion without being made to pay. Still, though, there was the calmer voice, the voice of David himself. The true David had no wish to harm the people in his father’s school. That voice was holding on, just barely. But the other voices were louder. So killing them was out of the question, perhaps, but there were still plenty of ways that revenge could be tasted. The guard that looked in through the window that morning would have no way of knowing anything had changed. It was perfect.
David Haller focused his mind and got to work.
Directly above, Kitty Pryde was barely out of bed. A weekday with no morning classes was a rare blessing, she reflected, and one to be cherished above all. She would gladly have stayed under the sheets longer but, as it always did on mornings when she was allowed a lie-in, her body had other ideas. Kitty always had to pee every morning and go number two every other morning, like clockwork, and today was no different- she hadn’t pooped the previous day, either. So she was forced to get up to go quieten the growing needs in her abdomen.
Once she’d selected something comfortable to wear- today it was a tight-hugging pink top and black leggings- she phased through her usual spot opposite her bed that she knew would take her right out into the common room. Sometimes being able to walk through walls was a life-saving power. On mornings like this, though, it saved her a few extra steps, and sometimes Kitty thought that that was almost as good.
Magma, who was sitting in an armchair reading a book, didn’t even look up. The girls who shared this wing of the accommodation with Kitty had grown so used to her phasing that it was more or less a nonoccurence- at least for most of them. It still made Megan (who everyone called Pixie) jump every single time, as she did this morning, almost spilling her orange juice.
“Good morning,” came a singsong voice from across the room. The speaker was Jubilee, who was stretched out across the sofa in a scarlet tank top. Her trademark yellow jacket hung loosely over one arm of the seat; it was far too hot even at this hour to wear something so big. She was in a chirpy mood, although this wasn’t anything new. Her smile was infectious.
“Morning,” Kitty replied, rolling her shoulders back to stretch them out, “I can’t believe I’m actually the last one up”.
“Not quite,” Magma pointed out. She was smouldering- figuratively and kind of literally. “Rogue’s still in her room”.
“I thought she had a class?”
“Cancelled,” Magma said, sounding like she couldn’t care less.
“Ah. Well, if you see her, I’ll be in the bathroom. I gotta pee like a racehorse,” Kitty said, which made Pixie giggle as usual. She started heading to the small corridor which led to the girls’ shared bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Jubilee asked. Kitty frowned; she didn’t have time for trick questions. She just wanted to sit down for her morning dump in peace.
“I just said, bathroom,” she reiterated. Jubilee was looking at her like she was stupid. She pointed a helpful arm towards the door that would take Kitty downstairs and out into the main school. Kitty was getting impatient by now, not least because she really had to fart and didn’t want to do it in front of Magma.
“The bathroom’s down there, Kitty,” Jubilee said. While Kitty still had no idea what Jubilee’s game was, she didn’t much want to wait around and find out. They all knew that Kitty always woke up desperate, so she thought Jubilee was being a bit cruel teasing her like this. She turned instead towards the corridor.
“Why would I use that one when I can just use the one up here-“ but Kitty froze in her tracks then, and the words got caught in her throat, because what she was seeing was surely not possible. It had to be some kind of vivid dream.
There was no corridor. Where the small opening leading to the toilet had always been, instead there was now just blank wall, blended perfectly in with the rest of the architecture. If a new student had wandered in at this exact moment, they would never have guessed that there had ever been a bathroom in the dorm at all. And yet Kitty knew there was a bathroom there. She’d hobbled down it to relieve herself every morning and tinkled in it every night before bed ever since she’d arrived at the X-Mansion. Finally remembering to breathe again, Kitty rushed to the flat wall and placed a hand on the surface.
“Kitty, what are you doing?”Pixie asked. It had to be a group prank, Kitty thought, because now Pixie was in on it too. Only Pixie wasn’t much of an actor, and the confusion in her voice sounded very real.
“What are you talking about?” Panic and frustration was growing in Kitty’s voice. If it wasn’t a prank, why was she the only one acting like anything was up? “I’m talking about the corridor that’s been here for years leading to the bathroom”.
The three girls were all looking at her now, and there was genuine worry in their eyes. That was when it hit Kitty how serious this was- they all think I’ve gone mad, she realised. Reality had been altered and only she even knew it. The thought of it terrified her.
Kitty farted then. She felt it come out, but she couldn’t stop it. Fear had gripped her. She couldn’t explain what had happened or why, but she knew one thing: something very dangerous was going on.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————
“Keep your voices down,” May whispered, poking her head into an empty classroom before ushering her colleagues inside. Jemma Simmons was first through the door, looking around with piqued curiosity at the science displays on the walls. Of course, being a genius biochemist, she was far more advanced than the level of your typical American school, but the nerd in her still liked to look. Then again, the X-Mansion wasn’t a normal school.
Jemma noticed Natasha Romanoff roll her eyes as she pushed past May and in. It was pretty obvious that Natasha felt overqualified to be bossed around by May- a feeling that, to be fair, was probably accurate. But she was a professional, so she allowed the hierarchy to play out naturally. Black Widow was there on a purely advisory capacity. She’d been drafted in last minute at the request of Nick Fury himself, who felt that her experience- and possibly combat skills, if things got nasty- could be valuable. Melinda May was still in charge of operations, while Maria Hill had come along as Fury’s closest representative. Jemma was an essential part of the team, being the one by far the most likely to understand their target’s biological workings, but right now she felt like she was just tagging along. She was mainly concerned about her bladder, which she would usually have emptied by now, but they’d been bundled into the chopper on a tight time limit.
Their mission was pretty simple on paper and incredible dangerous in practice. An inside source had tipped them off that the volatile and unpredictable David Haller, AKA Legion, had been captured and bought to the building early that morning on behalf of Professor Charles Xavier, his father. Rumour was that Xavier wanted to try and help his son, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had other ideas. They believed that Haller was too dangerous and had committed too many awful crimes to be given another chance, and wanted him in custody sharpish. But, Nick Fury being who he was, he’d foreseen that Xavier would predict a move like this from S.H.I.E.L.D, which meant things had to be done… differently.
Sending in the Avengers wasn’t an option. Steve Rogers was a warrior, but he was too honourable- asking him to kidnap a mentally unstable man was like asking Santa Claus to punch a toddler. Tony was off doing God-knows-what and nobody could reach him. Thor had no espionage subtlety whatsoever. Barton wasn’t much good in this situation, Ant-Man wasn’t the kind of guy you would trust with something this delicate and Peter Parker had thought the X-Men were a band. S.H.I.E.L.D. (and Jemma privately agreed) were confident that the Hulk could take on almost any one of the X-Men if necessary, but all of them? That could be too much for even him.
So they took a different approach, one that essentially boiled down to three of their best agents sneaking in with one of the world’s greatest spies and capturing Legion. The plan, on paper, made sense. Jemma was carrying a vial of incredibly powerful sedative and a syringe. It wasn’t the greatest scheme they’d ever cooked up, but it had only been six hours since they’d got word of Haller’s capture, and it was crucial that they struck before Xavier got a chance to increase the security around his son. The old man was incredibly smart and kind-hearted, true, but S.H.I.E.L.D. felt that his ideas of rescuing David were little more than sentimental fantasy. They needed to extract David soon.
Once everyone had gathered in the room, May shut the door and turned to them. Jemma was sure now that she needed a wee, and planned to bring it up at the earliest opportunity. She knew May wouldn’t be happy, but wetting herself during the mission was sure to attract even more attention.
“According to the plans Fury gave us, the medical ward should be on the other side of the building from here. Jemma, are you sure you closed the window?”
“Positive,” Jemma replied, not entirely appreciating the patronising tone. Then she stopped to think about it, and frowned. Had she closed the window? She thought so. “I’m ninety-five percent sure,” she amended. May sighed exasperatedly. Nothing could be done about it now.
“Classes have just started, which is perfect for us. Most of the students and teachers will either be in lessons or in the cafeteria getting breakfast, so the corridors should be quiet. Makes it much less likely that we’re going to be asked any questions”.
“Jeez, May, you talk like you’ve never broken into a school for mutants before,” Maria said. Like Natasha, she felt she deserved to be in charge and it showed. There wasn’t really time for arguing about it, so the conflict wasn’t going anywhere. May ignored Hill’s comment.
“Once we find him, Jemma, you get the injection ready ASAP. Natasha, you’re our best fighter, I want you guarding the door in case anyone tries anything. Maria, I need you in there with me aiming a gun at him at all times. If he’s awake, make sure he knows you’re not afraid to use it”. Nobody said anything to that: while they weren’t happy about the leadership situation, everything May had said made perfect sense and none of them would’ve come up with a much better plan. “Any questions?”
“Um, yes,” Jemma piped up, feeling like it was her last chance to ask, “any chance we could sneak into the toilets first? It’s been a really hectic morning and I could really do with a wee”.
May looked at her like she was crazy. “No, for Christ’s sake Jemma, we’re not going to postpone our top-secret operation so you can pee! Let’s just get this over with”.
Worth a try, Jemma thought to herself, and followed her colleagues back into the hall. |
Even on a fairly quiet morning when half the students were in classes, the X-Mansion’s cafeteria was still alive with movement. Groups of young mutants were dotted all over the various tables and benches: some playing games, some showing off different powers and abilities, some just talking and joking around. As well as being the canteen, this room was also the social hub of the school, and easily the most popular spot to hang out with friends. If someone in the X-Mansion wasn’t in a class or their dorm, you’d probably find them here.
Hisako Ichiki certainly found herself there on most free mornings, and today was no different. She sat there, picking through a high-fibre bowl of cereal with no real enthusiasm. Armor- as she was known- didn’t think much of the taste, but a bowl of the stuff every morning helped keep her bowel movements regular, which was all she could really ask for from her food. On some days when she really couldn’t bring herself to force down the bran flakes, she would just eat the raisins and dried banana, which was a lot more fun. She usually paid for her laziness with a few days of constipation, but it was worth it.
One person who never seemed to have any such issues was Dazzler, who seemed to shovel down whatever she wanted every morning without putting on any weight- or, as far as Armor knew, even getting blocked up. They’d shared a dorm for a long time, and Armor had never known Dazzler to spend more than a few minutes on the toilet. She was a sit, squeeze and done kind of girl. Armor, who regularly had to strain for half an hour just to produce a tiny nugget, had always been quietly envious. Then there was Magik, who was a bit of an enigma. The sorceress was a deeply private person, and never one to talk openly about things like her bathroom habits. She’d arrived at the table in her normal fashion: out of nowhere. It was a rare sight to catch Magik walking around the school.
Speaking of bathroom habits, as Armor was sitting there poking at her cereal with a spoon, she was starting to feel a poop coming on. Ordinarily this would be no cause for concern, but Armor’s bowels didn’t work like most. Once she experienced those first twinges, it meant she had a matter of maybe thirty minutes until it was urgent. That didn’t worry Armor- she had had plenty of practice in dealing with her fickle stomach and always knew to make sure she was within a few hundred feet of a bathroom. In fact, she’d mastered the timing down to a tee. If she started to need to go at nine, she’d leave the cafeteria by nine-twenty, be desperate by nine-twenty-five and get on the toilet just in time for everything to slide right out at nine-thirty. On that particular morning, her schedule gave her another fifteen minutes or so before she’d have to take off.
As the three of them- who shared a dorm with the three Stepford Cuckoos- sat there, talking and eating breakfast, another trio was drinking coffee on the next table. These three were adults, three of the most revered mutants in the world. Rachel Summers was among the most skilled telepaths the X-Men had, having inherited the abilities from her mother. Rachel was the daughter of Jean Grey, but also not, as far as Armor understood- she’d never asked for the full details. This morning Rachel was looking red-hot in a high-cut green top, even higher black jacket and a tight skirt. Sitting across from her, Betsy Braddock was listening to the conversation with a concerned expression. Psylocke’s violet hair matched her close-hugging purple catsuit, which, Armor reflected, was the kind of outfit that no other school in America would ever allow. Rachel and Betsy were receiving news from Storm, possibly the most respected woman in the building. They were talking in hushed voices- but from where she was sitting, Armor could hear just enough to pick it up.
“… bought in this morning, yeah,” Storm was whispering, “Scott got him, in the end”.
“And Professor X thinks he can cure him?” Psylocke asked sceptically. Storm nodded. “That’s crazy talk, if you ask me,” she sighed, “although I guess you can’t blame him for wanting to help his own son”. Armor didn’t like where this was heading. Charles Xavier only had one living kid as far as she knew…
“We have to trust him,” Storm nodded, “I know his decisions haven’t always been perfect but the man is a genius. He knows the risks he’s taking”.
Rachel shook her head in amazement. She looked like a woman who’d just received some very bad news. Hell, she had. “I just can’t believe Legion is locked up a few rooms away,” she muttered.
Armor felt something drop in her stomach. Suddenly, her bowels felt hot and heavy. If Legion was really in the building, they could all be in a whole lot of danger. She found herself wishing that she’d never overheard the adults at all. Her second thought was that she was going to need to bring forward that trip to the toilet. Her well-rehearsed routine had been majorly disrupted by the shock and fear of what she had just learned. She muttered an excuse to the other girls and got to her feet, but too fast- Armor lost her balance and fell. Instinctively, her exoskeletal shields came up and she didn’t feel the impact of landing at all, but people around her had seen and she was getting some funny looks. At that moment it was hard to care- partly because only she knew that a deadly mutant was a few rooms away, and partly because she was getting more desperate to shit by the second.
Forgetting her cereal entirely, Hisako Ichiki got to her feet and turned to the cafeteria door.
There was just one problem: there was no cafeteria door.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————
Danielle Moonstar usually found Jean Grey’s lessons fascinating, but today there was something else holding her attention. Sitting there, listening to the redhead talk about telepathy and the best ways to combat it, it was obvious that Jean needed to use the bathroom. Whether her classmates could tell or not was another matter; Dani had always felt that she paid more attention than them and they might have missed the subtle signs that Dani picked up on so easily. Whether they knew or not, Dani knew, and she was finding it hard to look away.
Of course, at the start she’d tried her best to ignore it. She always strived to be mature, even when it was difficult. What did it matter to her, Dani had told herself, if her teacher needed the toilet? It was only natural, and besides, teachers were surely busy people. She’d probably just not found the time to go this morning, and now was faced with a class on a full bladder. Well, Dani could sympathise with that. She would have needed several extra hands to count the amount of times she’d been caught out in similar circumstances. It was all too easy to slip up like that. A hectic morning was all it took to completely forget to void your bladder or even bowels, and sometimes it could be hours before you’d get the chance to go. Hell, even that day, Dani had got caught up in a book and forgotten to take her morning poop. That was catching up with her now, making her belly rumble ominously.
But as the lesson had gone on, Jean’s situation had become harder and harder to politely ignore. The mutant was starting to cross her legs far more than was remotely natural, and moving around the classroom almost constantly. For some teachers that wouldn’t have suggested anything, but Jean wasn’t that kind of lecturer. Usually she would stand or sit stoically in one spot for the vast majority of the class, preferring to deliver her words while stationary. Today was totally different. She was clearly agitated, uncomfortable even. There wasn’t a second that went by when Jean’s thighs weren’t pressed tightly together. Dani wasn’t an idiot: her teacher clearly had to take a leak. The mystery was why Dani was finding it so captivating. It didn’t help that Jean was by no means an unattractive woman, sure, but that didn’t explain how charming Jean’s desperation was to Dani. At one point she felt a fart coming on, no doubt a product of the poop she really should have done that morning. Without taking her eyes off of Jean, Dani lifted one buttcheek just the tiniest amount and let it slip out, as silent as a mouse.
None of them knew or suspected that meanwhile, across the building, David Haller was just getting started. The voices were chiding him, propelling him into darker and more twisted territory. He was still managing to resist- just barely- those pieces of him that wanted blood. To quench their thirst for revenge, he was exacting it in a far more sophisticated way. From the bed to which he was tied, he was still finding new and deviously unexpected methods to alter the reality of the school. A compromise, if you will, he said to himself quietly.
He’d gotten the idea from a conversation two of the voices of Legion had had in his mind years ago. It was simple- if you can’t physically harm a crowd of people, take away something they need. Removing food or water from the equation was out of the question… too obvious. They would never be made to believe that that was the way they had always lived. But if you took away something else, say, a bathroom, well… it wouldn’t be too hard to get inside their heads and make them think that nothing was wrong. And if you took away all of the bathrooms, wouldn’t that be something?
Yes, taking away each and every bathroom would certainly cause enough harm and chaos to satiate the appetite of the multiple psychopaths within David. Within hours they would be scrambling and fighting for… what? That was a puzzle. He needed to give them something to fight over. Perhaps there was a hole in his plan after all. If he took away all the toilets then the inhabitants would just go outside, or find other options. If he left one- just one tiny stall- they would have something to hang on to. They, for the most part, would be too proud not to wait in line for the chance to relieve themselves in a dignified fashion. And once things got too urgent to wait in the line any longer, who knows what low and despicable things they might do to keep their pride?
Hell, while he was at it, he might as well speed things up a bit. To fiddle with the girls’ bladders and bowels wouldn’t be difficult. The question was, should he fill their organs up… or shrink them? Both would have the desired effect-
Wait up, a voice interrupted, who said anything about girls? Why can’t we make ALL of them suffer?
No men, David insisted, barely able to stay in control, if we’re doing this then we do it my way. I don’t want my father affected by… this.
Luckily, this seemed an acceptable deal for Legion. Time, then, to see his victims. David closed his eyes and focused, and the faces of the women in the building flashed up before him. Some he knew, some he didn’t. There was Storm, that bitch, and Jean Grey. An Asian girl with brightly-dyed hair. A woman with angry eyes like fire. All of them would pay.
Oh, ladies, a gleeful voice said, we are going to have a lot of fun together.
————————————————————————————————————————————————————
David Haller looked down at his own unconscious figure and laughed. He was free, no longer tethered by the boundaries of that bound and beaten body, free to roam the grounds and execute his plan to the minutest detail. Instinctively, he went to look down at his own hands, but that was stupid- he had no hands, not now, because he wasn’t in a human form anymore. There was nothing of him to see. Leaving his physical form tied to the bed, David turned and walked away.
The heavy steel door was designed to resist Juggernaut. David walked right through it. The guard outside didn’t bat an eyelid, which was perfect: that was the confirmation David needed to know for a fact that he wouldn’t be detected. He turned down the narrow corridor, picked a spot and closed his eyes- not that he technically had eyes, strictly speaking, but the same principle applied. At first, he wasn’t sure exactly what he was waiting for. But when it came to him it seemed so obvious. He was searching for his first victim.
He could detect the presence of people above him. Although he wasn’t strong enough yet to make out their voices, they were definitely female. Perfect. Without hesitation, David let himself float up, through the ceiling and onto the first floor. He was in a lounge or common room of some kind- did he recognise this place? It took a few seconds before he could peg it in his memory. He’d seen this exact room a few minutes ago, from the bed where his body was currently chained like an animal. It had previously been the location of one of the bathrooms he’d swept from reality. A quick glance at one of the walls confirmed it- yes, there had been a small corridor leading to a toilet on that wall, he was sure of it.
There were young women in the room, barely more than girls, four of them in all. Young X-Scum. The fairy one, the angry bitch, the one who called herself Jubilee. And one more- Kitty Pryde, the kid who could walk through walls. Well, David thought, two can play at that game, except you can’t even see me. She looked near-hysterical- and was she clutching her stomach? In his heightened state of sensitivity, David could smell strong farts coming straight from the girl. Well well well, what do we have here? I haven’t even started yet and already one of them has to take a shit.
“How are you guys not seeing this?” Kitty said, waving her free arm at the blank wall, “there’s always been a bathroom here!”
David frowned. So not all of them had been tricked by his mind-games. That was unusual. Kitty, at least, was aware that relief was usually a few metres from her bed rather than several minutes. But there was no time to waste- the others seemed to have fallen for his powers, and that was good enough. He had a lot of ground to cover. Although, he realised, he couldn’t go without leaving a parting gift. Almost nonchalantly, David flicked his imaginary wrist with a lazy flourish in the direction of the other girls in the room, concentrating his mind on exactly what he wanted to happen.
The effect seemed instantaneous. Pixie doubled over straight away, both hands grabbing her belly, eyes wide. Jubilee suddenly gasped and her left arm snaked towards her crotch, where it squeezed tightly. Even Magma stiffened up and burrowed her eyebrows as she felt something wrong. Job done, David thought. It’s just a shame I won’t be able to watch the results. He turned and walked through the closed door of the dormitory, into a small stairwell. I can always check in on them later, he decided, locking the door behind him for good measure with a single thought.
He found himself next arriving in the cafeteria- the place in the school he recognised better than any other. It was jam-packed: perfect for causing some chaos. Before he could even think about his first target in the room, his vision went straight to the imperious shape of Storm. Pure hatred bubbled up in his mind, some from David, most from the other voices of Legion. She would pay worse than the others… or he would make it so. He focused all of his energy on her bitch body, channeling all the anger and pain he had felt that morning into her. He wanted to put more piss and shit into her evil ass than most human beings could even hold, mutant or not. There was nothing in the world more satisfying to David than the look of sincere terror in her eyes that arrived seconds later. It had worked. The need had hit her, and by the looks of it, it had hit her bad.
Oh, and how perfect, two more enemies were there with her. Rachel Summers sat nearby, alongside the one who called herself Psylocke. Fuck them. Next to Storm, they weren’t worthy of his attention, but they needed to pay for their crimes just the same. With ease, he filled the bladder of one with brimming pee and the bowels of the other with hot, wet dung. Summers got up from her chair with a cry of surprise. On the table beside the adults, three girls scrambled to their feet in concern. He knew their names well: Armor, Magik and Dazzler. They wanted to help Storm and her bitch friends, no doubt. Well, David couldn’t have any of that. He sent the witch doubled over with what he knew would be agonising stomach cramps. Dazzler stepped back as her body began to fill at impossible speeds. David wanted to get Armor desperate to poop- how ironic it would be to see the honourable Armor shit her pants- but couldn’t. She already had to go, badly.
He cackled to himself, filled up her bladder instead, and left. If Jean Grey was in the building, he would find her next. |
Rogue woke with a start, damp with sweat. She had been having a dark dream, which wasn’t uncommon for her, but this one had jolted her from her sleep somehow. In it she’d seen the face of a man who looked vaguely familiar, a man with a shark’s grin and dead eyes. Then the dream had shifted, and she’d been back in her bed as a small child on a dark and thundery night. As the fear of the lightning and rain had strangled her, she’d started peeing the bed, just as she’d done in her childhood in real life-
Shit- she was peeing!
Swearing loudly, Rogue threw her covers off her waking body and onto the floor. She slept naked, always, so as she scrambled into a sitting position her bare crotch was like a water feature, still gushing pee into a growing puddle on the bedsheets. The stream emerged from beneath the bush of her pubic hair, the yellow tinge barely visible in the dim light, and splashed dully into the shallow pool between her thighs. Her first and only priority was to shut off the stream, but that took a few seconds. Once her pussy had been clamped shut she assessed the situation. First realisation: she had to pee something awful. She never woke up desperate, and she’d certainly never wet the bed. Second realisation: her bowels were cooking up a storm. As she sat there, barely awake, a fart shot out and caused the puddle of pee between her legs to bubble like a hot tub.
There wasn’t time to waste. Rogue shot out of bed, leaving her soaked sheets behind. They would have to wait until later- if she tried to clean up now there would soon be a puddle on the carpet. Ignoring another fart, she looked around for something to wear. All she could see was an oversized t-shirt that she wore as a night top when she was feeling lazy. She chucked it on, shoved aside the heavy stool that blocked her door and escaped into the main dormitory. The last thing she had expected was for all of the girls she lived with to be in the room already, looking panicked.
“What’s going on?” she asked, realising with a horrible sinking feeling that she wasn’t the only one who really needed to use the bathroom.
“I could ask you the same thing!” Kitty groaned. She looked possibly the most desperate of all of them, bouncing up and down on the spot where she stood.
“I don’t know,” Rogue said exasperatedly, “I just woke up and I feel like I’m gonna pee myself, and I have to take the worst dump too”. Over in the corner, Magma winced at this- she had never been good at talking about when she had to use the bathroom, and Rogue couldn’t tell if her reaction was because she was embarrassed or because she also had to drop a load. However, Pixie had no such inhibitions, and she had always been pretty vocal about them.
“I have to poop as well,” she agreed, which was accompanied by a soft fart.
“I think we all do,” Kitty said, “I think something really, really bad is going on”.
“I don’t,” Magma piped up from her armchair determinedly. All four other girls looked over in disbelief.
“You don’t?” Jubilee asked.
“No, I’m fine,” Magma insisted, “I went last night”.
“So why are you sweating?” Pixie pointed out.
“It’s a hot day,” Magma mumbled. “Look, I’m fine. I don’t feel ill or… whatever. I have no idea what you’re all talking about”.
“Where did you go?” Kitty asked.
“What?”
“You said you went last night, where did you go?”
“In the bathroom…” Magma didn’t understand what was happening.
“Which bathroom, Magma, this is important!” Kitty pressed. Magma paused, frowning. It hit her what Kitty had been getting at. Where had she gone to the bathroom the night before? She knew the answer, but it was impossible. It didn’t make the slightest jot of sense.
“In the toilet over…” she looked up at the wall. There was no toilet over there, had never been a toilet over there, except in the ramblings of Kitty for the last few minutes. She shook her head as if she was a dog shaking water from her fur. “I must have gone downstairs, I guess”.
Kitty growled in frustration. “You’re not getting it,” she spat.
“Guys, that doesn’t matter right now,” Jubilee cried. She had sat up on the sofa where she’d previously been laying, and was now writhing constantly in her seat. “If I don’t get to the bathroom soon I’m not going to make it”. It was true; her bowels felt like a ticking time bomb that would go off no matter where she was.
“She’s right,” Pixie said, “I think we should all just head downstairs to the bathroom and argue later”. Her stomach grumbled so loudly that it could be heard across the room. She rushed towards the door, followed closely by Jubilee and Kitty. Magma got up to her feet as well and started moving.
“I thought you didn’t have to go?” Kitty said bitterly.
“I don’t,” Magma lied, “but I might as well come along”.
Only Rogue was hanging back, unable to rush with them as she desperately wanted to. She was only in a t-shirt, after all, and wouldn’t be seen dead in the school with her ass hanging out. She would have to nip back into her bedroom and grab something to wear. But before she could turn back to her room, Pixie’s worried voice cut through the room like ice.
“It’s locked,” she said, “the door’s locked!”
“Our door doesn’t have a lock,” Kitty growled, pushing Pixie aside and trying the door to no avail.
“What is wrong with you today?” Magma said, “our door’s always had a lock”.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————
Armor had never needed the toilet this badly before, but she was determined not to show it at any cost. She’d become desperate for a poop in recent minutes since hearing that Legion was around, and suddenly she had to pee as well. How that had happened was unclear, but she could tell it was something that had impacted everyone around her. Not that that meant she was comfortable showing it- she’d never given the game away when she had to use the bathroom, and that wasn’t going to change now.
Dazzler had no such policy. The blonde girl was bent over with both hands between her legs, bobbing up and down on the spot like she was on a trampoline. Of course, if she actually had been on a trampoline she would surely be wetting her pants by now. It looked like she’d picked a bad day to dress in all-white. The other women dotted around the cafeteria were fairing just as poorly. The real source of concern for Armor at that point was Storm, who was squatting down with an agonised expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Armor asked. Of course, she already knew because she was feeling identical pains in her stomach and a fullness in her bladder. She was sure Storm was experiencing the same thing, but if she acted like she already knew what was up then the other women would surely realise that Armor also needed to go, and she wouldn’t allow that. Trying to look sympathetic and banish any signs of her own need, Armor crouched next to Storm and leant in close.
“I’m fine, Armor,” Storm lied through gritted teeth. Armor thought she had never seen such a blatant untruth told in her life- the woman clearly wasn’t okay. Armor could completely understand not wanting to admit you had to go- her attitude was the same, after all- but there was no point lying when you were as unable to hide it as Storm was in that moment. With both ladies evidently running out of time, Armor did something she’d never done before. She leaned in and whispered in Storm’s ear.
“Listen, I know that you have to go to the bathroom. So do I. I don’t know what’s causing this, and I know you want to hide it from the others, but if we just hide it from each other then we won’t get anywhere”. Storm turned to her, eyes red, and silently nodded. It was bizarre how quickly the power had shifted between the pair. Here was one of the most powerful and revered mutants in the world, and she was taking orders from a teenager without question. It was crazy what being desperate to shit could do to a woman’s psyche, Armor thought to herself.
She stood up straight, still doing her best not to show any outward signs of her increasingly urgent need to evacuate her bowels and bladder. Next in line for a check-in was Magik, who sat on a round stool beside the table, facing away from her forgotten breakfast. She was pushing her thighs together tightly, but also looked like she didn’t want people to think she had to go.
“Magik, you okay?” Armor asked, approaching cautiously. When under stress, the sorceress could be volatile at the best of times and Armor didn’t want to piss her off.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she said bluntly, “just got startled by what happened with Rachel”. Of course, Armor didn’t buy this for a second- she had seen the way Magik had been doubled over, grabbing her belly and moaning in what sounded like serious pain. But she let it slide.
“And what did happen with Rachel?” Armor asked suspiciously. She was confident that Magik could tell that Armor didn’t believe her.
“Food poisoning, I think. Ask her yourself, she said something about needing to poop. I don’t know why they build a cafeteria with no doors, anyway”.
“No, I never understood that either,” Armor admitted, and turned towards Rachel. The short-haired beauty was sitting a few metres away, and in a sharp antithesis of Magik she was banging her knees together rapidly, thighs opening and closing as quickly as a flip-book. One hand was rubbing her belly and with the other she was tepidly feeling the back of her pants.
“Rachel…” Armor asked. Sympathy wasn’t generally in her repertoire of emotions she put on full display, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor woman, who was evidently struggling to hold it in. “How bad is it?”
“Real fucking bad, Armor,” Rachel groaned, beckoning the girl closer. Once Armor was at arm’s length she grabbed her and pulled her head down so she could whisper in her ear, away from the hearing of the other women. “I have to fart so bad it hurts”.
“Do it,” Armor encouraged.
“I can’t- too embarrassing”.
“If it hurts you have to let it out,” Armor said, “I’ll distract everyone and you push it out, they won’t hear”.
Rachel considered this for just a second- the longest she could afford to wait- and nodded. Armor moved away, past the rest of the women, and opened her mouth to make some noise. But before she could grab the attention of anyone, Rachel lost control. A long, wet fart erupted from her, catching the ears of everyone in the room. Dozens of faces turned in unison towards the poor woman, who had suffered the indignity of farting as an adult in front of a room of younger women. Her eyes were wide in shock and dread as her hand snuck behind her to inspect her panties, out of the view of most students. Silently, as the conversation across the hall resumed, she caught Armor’s eye and mouthed three unmistakable words: I just sharted.
Armor grabbed Psylocke’s arm.
“What the hell is going on? This doesn’t make any sense,” she demanded. Psylocke raised a shaky arm and pointed at Storm, who was still squatting desperately over the floor.
“She knows what’s going on,” the woman said bitterly, “ask her”.
All five women around turned to look at Storm, who knew she’d been caught out in more ways than one. Magik and Dazzler looked on in intrigue, expecting an answer. Storm couldn’t see a way out, and so she told the truth.
“David Haller did this,” she said, keeping the steel in her eyes even as she bounced in desperation, “I don’t know how, exactly, but Legion is behind all of this”.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————
Long before Legion came anywhere near her classroom, Jean Grey was beginning to seriously worry. Her urge to pee had doubled since she’d started teaching, and now there was still half an hour left for her to teach before she could go for some relief. Leaving in the middle of the class was still not an option, not least because it was the wrong message to send to her students. They perceived her, she knew, as one of the strongest female figures in the mutant world. Waddling off halfway through a lesson to go pee would tarnish that image, she was sure of it.
To make matters worse, she didn’t just have to pee. Jean didn’t poop often, but when she did they were big loads that came on quickly and it looked like her body had picked this morning, of all mornings, to make it happen. She shouldn’t have been surprised; her bowels had always had something of a habit of choosing the worst times to need emptying.
But the strangest of things was happening- it looked as though she wasn’t alone in her need. In fact, quite the opposite. Nobody would say it out loud; in all her time teaching she’d never been asked by a student if they could use the bathroom during a class. She suspected that they were concerned that she’d look down on them for not being able to hold it until the end of the lesson, which wasn’t really true, but Jean could see why they might think that. And now it looked as though almost the entire class was struggling.
Unless she was imagining it. Perhaps it was an illusion encouraged by her own desperation. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see. And yet… every time she finished saying something important, as she paused to let her students copy it down into their books, she would look around the room and find everywhere what were certainly symptoms of a need for the toilet. On the front row, Moonstar was massaging her belly beneath the table. She may have thought Jean couldn’t see from that angle, but her teacher knew. Laura, as usual, had been deathly silent throughout the lesson. In general this was standard for Laura- she was a quiet girl who never liked talking during classes- but this time Jean suspected there was another reason for her subdued state. Her legs were crossed tightly, and one smart-shoed foot had been bouncing up and down constantly for twenty minutes.
Then there were the Cuckoos, who were frozen in identical poses with identical expressions of pain. Six hands between them, Jean thought, and I can’t see a single one. All three sets of hands were hidden beneath the table. From where she was, Jean couldn’t see what they were doing, but she would have bet good money that all three crotches were being squeezed. Of course, Jean realised with a shock, they’re psychically linked. That must mean that if one needs to pee, they all do.
If there was one person who Jean was confident needed the toilet just as badly as she did, it was Emma Frost. The White Queen wasn’t a student, sure, but she looked even worse off than the youngsters. Although Emma would never admit it, there was no denying that she needed to go. She sat, stiff and silent, at the back of the room, legs welded together in a crossed position. She looked like an older version of Laura in that position, but potentially even more desperate- there was almost sweat on the White Queen’s forehead.
Finally, there was the new girl, Kelly. She was the only one who seemed to be okay, although Jean guessed that Kelly was simply better at hiding her need than the rest of the women in the room. They were locked in this loop, all of them wanting the toilet but all of them too shy or too proud to admit it out loud. Jean refused to be the first to crack. So instead, she pushed on with the lesson once more.
There were twenty minutes left before sweet relief when things came to a head in Jean’s abdomen. With her urge at both ends reaching a peak, she had taken to standing perfectly still in front of her blackboard and reciting the rest of the lesson from memory. The reason for this strategy was simple: she felt much like walking around was no longer a viable way to hold it in. In fact, it felt like moving would surely make it harder to keep everything in. Jean knew that she couldn’t stand in that one spot like a tree forever, but she had been hoping for at least ten minutes or so of stability to give some relief to her tortured bladder and bowels. No such luck.
“Professor, could you come and check mine?”
Shit, Jean thought. It was the new kid, Kelly, who had called her over to take a look at the diagrams they had been sketching. Jean wanted nothing less than to have to walk over there, but she didn’t see a way out of it without admitting her situation. So she started to walk over to Kelly’s desk.
From the moment she moved her legs, Jean knew she’d made a mistake. A trickle of hot pee escaped from her pussy and dampened the front of her panties. Stunned by the feeling of wetness on her crotch, Jean froze and her focus on the other end slipped. Every woman in the room looked up at her as something slipped out of her butt unwelcome. It was bad enough that her students thought she had farted, but Jean knew better. It had been more than just gas.
That was the last straw. She had to get out of here.
“Okay, class,” she said, red in the face, “I just have to go grab something from the Professor’s office, and I’ll be right back”.
With all eyes on her, pee on her private parts and shit in her pants, Jean Grey turned and abandoned her class. |
“In here!” May hissed, herding the three agents into a broom closet that had been left unlocked. She slipped in after them and shut the door behind her, facing the trio of less-than-impressed women, who were cramped together so close their shoulders were touching.
“Funny, I’ve led dozens of missions and not once have I ended up shoving my agents in a closet,” Natasha said dryly. Her patience was clearly starting to run thin, which wasn’t helped by the fact that- unbeknownst to the others- she really had to poop. Not that she was going to admit that side of the reasoning for her rattiness.
“Cut it, Natasha, there’s no room for your attitude,” May snarled.
Jemma thought that was a brave thing to say. Melinda May was a highly skilled fighter, a dangerous opponent in almost any fight and more than a match for pretty much everybody she was likely to come up against. With that being said, Jemma was confident that Natasha Romanoff could kill May in no more than ten seconds if she wanted to. Of course May knew that Natasha wasn’t hot-headed enough for it to come to that, but it was still a scary thought.
“Why are we standing in a broom cupboard?” Jemma asked, perfectly reasonably.
“Classes are getting let out in a few minutes. Any second now people are going to come swarming out of those rooms and there’s no chance we won’t get recognised. We wait here until they pass and then we get David, okay?”
“No, not okay!” Natasha spat back, “We’ve been stumbling around this school like idiots for almost an hour and now you bundle us in a closet. What’s going on, May?”
“Fine, we must have got some faulty information. There’s only one room left where he could be, and it’s close. We’ll get him, just wait,” she said. It was abundantly clear that May would rather die than believe that they were going to fail, even if the other agents were starting to lose faith in their informant’s word.
Jemma, for her part, wasn’t too bothered at this point. Her main focus was how badly she needed the toilet. While she was far too shy to be constantly bugging May about it, Maria was at least nice enough to ask her for an update every now and then, presumably out of kindness.
“How you doing, Jemma?” she asked now, breaking the silence.
“Absolutely busting,” Jemma said quietly. She couldn’t bear the thought of weeing herself in front of three respected colleagues, not least because they were standing so close together that her accident would probably soak through their shoes.
“Can you hold it?” Maria asked sympathetically.
“I don’t know,” answered Jemma, “it’s getting really difficult”. She wasn’t exaggerating, either: it was becoming incredibly hard to hold in her wee, making her privates throb with a gentle ache. Jemma could barely even stand still anymore. May at least had the decency to look guilty- after all, it was her fault that Jemma was so desperate, having refused to let her go almost an hour ago.
“We’ll be done soon, Jemma,” May said carefully, “now everyone keep their voices down- here they come!” True to her word, voices and footsteps started emerging from the other side of the door. Within thirty seconds it had snowballed into a crescendo of people in the hallway outside. They were close, Jemma could tell- some were moving past the cupboard door just a few metres away. But she had a much bigger problem.
As she’d expected- and dreaded- for at least half an hour, her bladder was finally beginning to fail her. She felt the trickle of wee dribble from her urethra and run down the lips of her vagina, but she couldn’t stop it. Her only choice was to stand still and try and keep the damage to a minimum. By some miracle, Jemma managed to shut off the flow after a few seconds, although she’d started to think that wouldn’t be possible. In the dark of the broom cupboard, at least she had the comfort of knowing that none of the other women could see her patting the front of her trousers, checking for any wetness.
What she found was the last thing she wanted: the pee had soaked through. Not a lot, but enough that she could tell. Fortunately she was wearing dark jeans, meaning the wet patch wouldn’t be visible, but it was still bound to get uncomfortable. A foul smell filled her nostrils- was that the smell of her wee? No, surely not. It smelt, to Jemma’s delicate nose, more like poo. Someone had farted in the cupboard.
Once the rumble of feet from outside had finally died down, it was Natasha who addressed it.
“Christ, that stinks,” she whispered angrily.
“Jemma, was that you?” Maria asked.
“No, promise, I only need a wee”. Jemma had decided it was best not to mention her leak to the others. All three heads turned to May, barely visible in the near-blackness.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “I think it was something I ate”.
Natasha sighed in disbelief and pushed out of the cupboard to escape the scent.
“Come on,” she said, “let’s get David so we can get out of here before someone has an accident”.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————————
David practically flew through the school, breezing past crowds of students and teachers, leaving chaos in his wake. He could turn a corner to find six girls and leave behind six desperate, quivering wrecks. One woman had wet herself on the spot thanks to the sheer amount he’d summoned into her bladder. After that he started to go more easy. He wanted them to suffer first.
Turning down one corridor, he was startled by the opening of a cupboard door to his left. A red-headed woman came stumbling out, and David recognised her instantly. How could he not? Her face was known around the world, as one of the famous Avengers. She was followed by three more women, all dark-haired. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, judging by their look. There was only one reason why three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents would be sneaking around the school at this hour. They were after him.
Well, we can’t let that happen, a voice in his head laughed. David got to work.
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Rogue’s bedroom door, as it turned out, was also locked, having closed behind her when she’d rushed out into the dormitory with pee dripping down one leg.
“How are you not getting this?” Kitty yelled, her frustration reaching new levels as her urge to go did the same, “your door can’t be locked!”
She was in a room of intelligent mutants, and yet she seemed to be the only one grasping what was happening. Jubilee was still in straight denial that anything was wrong with their rooms this morning. The other three had fallen into a strange state of confusion, all believing that they had always had locks and never had bathrooms, but also seeming to acknowledge- to varying degrees- how insane and impossible this was.
“Kitty, stay calm,” Jubilee said, “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for… whatever you’re talking about”. She was trying her hardest to be the rational one in the conversation, but that wasn’t very effective given that she was bent over at the waist, clearly resisting the urge to fill her pants.
“No, there’s not!” Kitty snapped. She was reaching her limits for sure, even faster than she usually did. More farts had kept slipping out, and she was sure- although she lacked the courage to confirm it- that she’d lost a squirt or two of pee during the arguing.
The only person who could quite rival Kitty’s level of desperation was Rogue, who, if anything, seemed to be worse off. Perhaps it was to do with the fact that she was only wearing a t-shirt, leaving her butt and private parts hanging out (which was nothing her roommates hadn’t seen before), but it constantly felt like an accident was just moments away for Rogue. This was understandable; she’d already been peeing when she’d woken up and barely been able to keep the taps shut since.
“Guys, I don’t think I can hold it anymore,” she groaned. One hand was grabbing her pussy and the other squeezing her cheeks closed at the back. The palm in front wasn’t faring so well- there were clear streams running between her fingers and dripping rhythmically onto the carpet. Kitty could only imagine what was happening at the back, but she would have bet money that that hand wasn’t totally clean either. “It’s starting to come out… at both ends”.
“No, Rogue, you can’t wee,” Pixie pleaded, squirming on the spot, “if you wee I’ll wee too. I can’t help it”.
“Sorry, Pixie, it’s already happening, nothing I can do,” Rogue said sadly.
“No!” Pixie turned away and looked determinedly at the door, covering her ears with both hands. A few seconds later she realised she needed her hand elsewhere and buried it back in her crotch. Kitty hoped for Pixie’s sake that her theory was wrong, because Rogue had been right: she was losing control right now.
The first signs of it turning into a full-blown accident came as the steady streams escaping her clamped hand began to pick up in pace and power. Within seconds they were thick rivers of gold and before anyone could say anything piss was jetting out from those gaps, spraying everywhere despite Rogue’s best efforts to keep it in. Kitty knew perfectly well what that meant- she’d had plenty of experience at being desperate for both things at the same time, and she knew that it was nearly impossible to relieve one without the other. Rogue’s wince and the smell starting to waft across the room almost confirmed her suspicions: the girl was messing herself into her hand.
“Oh God, guys, I’m sorry,” Rogue wailed, and now Kitty could see it, could see the brown mass emerging from Rogue’s tight butt. Nothing Rogue was trying could stop its slow descent, nor halt the waterfall that was erupting out of her pussy. Now she had no trouble believing what Pixie had said- watching Rogue lose control was making it even more difficult to hold onto her own mess and piss. She, too, turned away… only to see a puddle around Pixie’s feet.
“Pixie!” Magma scolded, “you’re peeing on the floor!”
“I’m sorry!” Pixie sniffed, unable to stop, “just hearing her weeing made me need it so bad!”
It was too much for Kitty to take. She pushed past Pixie and phased straight through the door, not even feeling bad anymore for abandoning her classmates. If the bathroom downstairs really was the only one in the building now, and the other girls believed that had always been the case, then she had to get there right now. But she’d only managed half the steps down to the ground floor when she realised that the staircase would beat her body.
At the halfway point of the stairwell, where one flat piece of floor connected one stairway with the other, Kitty couldn’t go on another foot. She was sent doubled over in agony by another stomach cramp, and knew instinctively that this would be her last. The urge- no, the compulsion- to push was too much, and she couldn’t resist it anymore. She felt her anus being stretched and expanded by the tip of an enormous log starting to finally make way out of her, pushing and forcing with growing speed. One last, desperate effort to hold it back was met with nothing but a second of pause
Movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw the one thing she wanted to see less than anything else in that moment. In her shock, the dam burst. Before she realised that she was wetting herself, her black leggings were not only bulging at the back, but soaked with pee. She almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing, couldn’t believe the sheer awfulness of her luck.
Professor Charles Xavier was at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at her in amazement as she pissed and shit her pants.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Legion ghosted around the corner and out of sight, leaving the S.H.I.E.L.D. bitches to suffer. It had been so easy to take them by surprise, and he’d been gone before they had even known what was happening. He hadn’t harmed them, sadly- David’s last remaining rational voice had prevented that. But he’d left them all squirming and writhing in desperate agony that would soon give way to hot shame as they lost control. Maybe he was getting a taste for this unique form of torture, but it was almost as fun as killing. This way, it was almost like these women were the ones failing, humiliated by their inability to control a bodily function that small children are expected to master. Soon that would be the fate of the four agents- although David couldn’t stick around to watch it happen. It was a shame. But he had a lot of people to check in on.
First he hit up the dormitory. It was simple: David found the spot that he’d picked earlier and floated up, through the ceiling and into the room. This time he misjudged slightly and almost projected right through that weird fairy kid. It took him a few seconds to realise what had happened. She was soaked from the waist down, drenched in the unmistakable scent of pee. The tang of urine was so strong it almost hung in the air. On the other side of the room, also in a puddle of her own making, stood Rogue. Her naked bottom half would have drawn the attention of most men, but Legion was far more interested in the brown pile between her feet. Behind him, Magma was squatting in a corner, pushing out the last of her own dump with an agonised expression on her face while Jubilee watched in horror as her underwear received a saturating. The pure chaos of it all bought a savage kind of joy to his broken mind. No sign of Kitty- no matter, David thought. He’d find her later.
He remembered the way to the cafeteria. Same story there- a mess. In one corner, the girl, Magik, was cowering in the shadows. David didn’t need to approach to see what was going on- her bare thighs were exposed as she squatted down, emptying herself onto the floor like an animal. Looking around, he could see that almost everyone in the room had failed to hold on. Rachel Summers was emitting a smell that could only be equated to shitting in one’s pants. Dazzler was standing so near to David that he could see the sagging bulge beneath her butt where she hadn’t made it. There only seemed to be two women left who were still hanging on: one was Armor, still clutching her honour in one hand, not giving in yet. The other, miraculously, was Storm. She stood like a statue, showing no emotion, but David knew that she was close. There were no stains on the front of her crotch and no bulges at the back. No matter. Time would take it’s toll.
Almost gleefully, he rushed back towards Jean’s classroom. Phasing through the door, he was met right away with the first big surprise: no Jean. Had she rushed off to the bathroom? That didn’t sound like her at all. The famous Jean Grey, a proud woman who could destroy almost anyone in combat, abandoning her class to go to the toilet. And yet she was nowhere in sight. Before he could dwell on this for too long, he adjusted to exactly how much chaos had consumed the class in her absence. Moonstar was leaning against the radiator, her books forgotten, looking for all the world as if she was using the metal rim to hold her cheeks closed. At the back of the room, Emma Frost couldn’t take her hand away from her crotch. A girl David didn’t recognise sat silently in a corner and Laura Kinney was farting incessantly in her chair. But the thing that David couldn’t look away from was the Stepford Cuckoos, who were sitting together on one long desk near the front of the room. Or, at least, they had been sitting. Now they were standing, chairs abandoned. Each was writhing in desperation, all three of them grabbing at their crotches.
The new girl, the one David had never seen before, rose from her seat and went to the door. She spoke for the first time. Her voice was bizarre, low and unnatural coming from a teenage woman.
“It doesn’t look like the Professor is coming back any time soon,” she said.
“Kelly, you really shouldn’t leave your class without permission,” Moonstar interjected, even as her stomach rumbled loudly.
“You saw her,” Laura spat, “she was already having an accident. She’s not coming back”.
“Thank you!” said the new girl- Kelly, “we have to get to the bathroom before it’s too late- who’s with me?”
Laura rose almost immediately, holding her bottom, followed by Frost and the three musketeers. Reluctantly, and perhaps because she recognised that her pride was more important than obeying the rules, Moonstar rose too. Kelly held the door open for them all, watching as the six desperate women filtered past her, heading for what they genuinely believed was the only bathroom in school. As soon as Moonstar became the last one out the door, though, Kelly slammed it shut and hoisted a nearby chair in the way. He had no idea what she was doing- was she looking for somewhere private to have an accident? Had she decided she couldn’t hold it and didn’t want the others to see? But no- she turned on the spot and looked right at him. Almost as if she could…
David felt his body go cold, which was impressive considering that he didn’t have one. The girl’s eyes were no longer those of a teenager, even a mutant teenager. They were cold, dark, like a bear’s eyes. She smiled a small, sly smile, and her face began to change. The features morphed. Her skin was tinged now with another shade- inky blue, almost, a sharp contrast against the red of her hair.
Impossible, David thought. But it was very much real.
“Hello, David,” Mystique grinned, “I’ve been waiting for you”.
———————————————————————————————————————
"I can't hold it, I'm going to poop my pants".
Jemma looked around in shock. All four agents were clearly desperate for the toilet- certainly since they'd left that broom closet- but she really hadn't expected Melinda May to be the first to burst. Heheh, first to burst, that rhymes, a small voice piped up inside her head. She silenced it and tried to focus. It had been clear since the cupboard that May really needed a poo, true, but still- Jemma had been busting for a wee since they arrived more than an hour ago! How come she could hold it and May couldn’t, all of a sudden? Worse still, what had happened to make Natasha and Maria desperate too? Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. Jemma was naturally suspicious of biologically unlikely things, and she didn’t believe much in coincidences.
“Christ, May, I feel you- I think mine’s poking out,” Natasha grumbled. At least the bickering about who was in charge had slowed down since the cupboard incident. They were now metres away from David’s room- Jemma could see the door.
“Me too, guys, but May- can you please try and hold it? We’re almost there” Maria said, holding her stomach. All three were rumbling loudly; it seemed that Jemma was the only one left who only needed a wee.
“Shit, no… I’m sorry,” May groaned, “I don’t know what’s wrong but I’ve never had to shit so bad in my life”. She farted loudly, a long, wet one. The sound of that fart was enough to tell Jemma everything she needed to know: it was over for Melinda May. Jemma had certainly never done a fart that sounded anywhere near that bad and still made it to the bathroom on time. Natasha didn’t seem to have cottoned on yet, but Maria had heard it too, and knew exactly what it meant. Suddenly, May’s voice was meek and almost childlike. “Just… please can nobody look? It’s happening”.
“What?” Natasha asked incredulously, whipping around.
“I said I’m shitting myself, so could you please do me the courtesy of not staring?” May snapped. Natasha at least had the decency to turn around. Jemma followed suit, but in the reflective glass on the wall she could see everything. She saw the way May’s eyes closed as she gave in to the inevitable. She saw how May accepted defeat, saw her loose-fitting clothes begin to sag and droop as they were filled. Natasha and Maria couldn’t see these things, but they could certainly hear the farts and squelching sounds as Melinda May filled her pants with hot, wet shit. Jemma could only imagine how much poop there must be, judging by the length of the noises. She couldn’t see the liquid faeces that she assumed was running down May’s legs, staining her thighs. She could, though, see it begin to pool around her feet.
When she was done, May turned with tears in her eyes and began to walk towards the room that they knew contained David Haller.
“Don’t fucking talk about that ever again,” she said calmly.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————
He talked to her. Or, at least, he communicated with her. The projection of David that was in the room couldn’t speak. Instead, from his hospital bed, he got inside her mind and sent the telepathic signals he needed to make her hear what he wanted her to hear.
How did you know I was here?
“I have my sources,” she said darkly, “even if they don’t always talk willingly”.
So you tortured it out of someone?
“Me? No. I don’t care where you are. Someone who pays very handsomely does”.
Magneto? Is that what this is about? He sent you here?
Mystique laughed, a cruel sound. “I don’t think you have much time for talking, David. Those S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents are on their way to your body right now. If they can subdue you… it’s game over.” She turned once again and removed the chair beneath the door handle. “Speaking of which, I’d better get there not long after they do. I’d be there already but I want to give them a fair fight”.
Wait.
“What?”
How did you see me? Just now?
“I didn’t. It was a fair guess, though, I assumed you’d be watching your little game- unless you’ve done this all over the school?”
Done what?
“You know exactly what you’ve done, Legion. A roomful of grown women don’t suddenly need to pee and poop this badly for no reason”.
Which is why you can’t get to me. I have power over you.
“I’m not so sure you do. If you could kill me, you’d have done it by now. And I’m not sure why- maybe there’s still a little bit of human left in you- but you can’t kill me”.
I still have control over you bladder. Your bowels.
“Ah, that’s where you’ve gotten confused, David. You see-“ she unhooked her skirt at the back, letting it fall to the ground in a heap and stepping out of it before kicking the discarded fabric away- “you don’t have any power over me”.
David squeezed desperately at her bladder, constricted her stomach to try and force her to need to go more. She spread her legs wide and he realised that she wasn’t wearing underwear. Mystique tilted her head back, mouth open, as a jet of pee began to fountain from her pussy, arcing out and away before splashing onto the floor. David could only watch while a runny mess started pouring from her butt and joining the puddle that was forming around her feet. She looked back at him- no, that was impossible, she couldn’t see him, even if she sure looked like it- and smiled.
“You can’t win, David. Not with your little bathroom trick”. She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “You see- I don’t care if I make it to the bathroom or not. As long as you’re dead by bedtime”.
————————————————————————————————————————————————————
“Storm- the door!”
Armor grabbed the older woman by the arm, hoisting her to her feet. Storm had been flitting between standing and squatting for several minutes now, but that had to change. How did she not think of it? The cafeteria door! They could walk through it and be right near the bathroom.
“Has that always been there?” Dazzler asked in confusion. Armor ignored her and dragged Storm through the double doors and into the main hallway of the school. The only women’s bathroom in the place stood just a few dozen feet away…
She groaned inwardly when she caught sight of the line that had formed outside. Jean Grey, Laura Kinney, all three Stepford Cuckoos, Danielle Moonstar and Emma Frost stood gathered just past the door. All of them looked ready to burst. But Armor had no choice- she pulled Storm once more and joined the back of the line.
“You gotta pee too, huh?” Emma asked her, looking concerned.
“No- poop,” Armor corrected, “and Storm’s gotta do both. Really bad”.
“Well, we’d better hope this line moves, or it’s going to get messy”.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
“It’s unlocked!” Jubilee gasped, finally getting some success after trying the door for the thirtieth time.
“Are you serious? Now it’s unlocked?” Magma, who had been forced to pull up her underwear without wiping after taking her messy dump on the floor, was less than impressed. “Why are you in such a hurry anyway? None of us made it. It’s too late”.
“I still gotta go number two,” Jubilee explained.
“I’m glad one of us does,” Rogue said dryly. She had stripped off a sock to wipe with after her horrendous accident all over the carpet, the one that had started it all off. Jubilee slipped out the door, leaving the three pee-sodden women behind. She only got halfway down the stairs in her pee-soaked jeans when she saw something that stopped her in her tracks: Kitty, in tears and reeking of poop, being comforted by Charles Xavier himself at the bottom of the stairs.
“Jubilee? What’s going on?” he asked, as if he thought she would know. Desperation emboldened her, and she talked fast.
“Everyone really had to go potty but the door was locked, we don’t know why,” she explained, “Now I have to do number twos,” she admitted, blushing furiously. For a second he stared at her in disbelief before coming to his senses.
“Right, no time to waste,” he announced, “there’s a bathroom in my office. I’ve seen the line downstairs, and believe me, you don’t want to join it”.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
“We’re having an accident!” three voices chimed at once. Armor realised what was about to happen just in time- the Cuckoos had lost their battle. She backed away, pushing Storm with her. Her hand came into contact with something warm and soft on Storm’s backside. She didn’t need to ask what it was- not that there was time.
“Cuckoos- you’re so close!” Armor pleaded, but it was too late. In unison, three crotches bloomed indigo and three butts erupted into the sounds of soaking wet farts. Just one of those girls would have pissed a river, Armor didn’t doubt, but all three? That was going to make a puddle the size of a swimming pool. She had to keep stepping back to avoid the stretching, slippery pee which expanded rapidly across the hallway, flooding it out. Others weren’t so quick and it caught their shoes.
“Oh, fuck it,” came a voice. Next in line, Laura had decided that enough was enough. She turned to Armor and rolled her eyes. “I’m not gonna make it anyway,” she complained. Armor couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The girl bent her knees slightly and grunted, pushing out a log firm enough to tent her tight pants. A glance ahead confirmed that Dani Moonstar had lost it too. She was groaning, mumbling “please, not now,” over and over while the seat of her jeans turned a dark, murky shade. That was nothing compared to Emma Frost. Her once-pristine white clothing was getting destroyed, and was now an unmistakable brown. As she pissed herself, it seemed to be spraying in all directions, marred by the fabric she wore.
Armor couldn’t believe it. The Cuckoos had lost it, Moonstar had shit herself, Emma was gone, Laura willingly filling her underwear. Even Storm, stronger than any of them, had a log in her pants. She pushed past them and towards Jean Grey, who was still- somehow- hanging on. She was writhing and dancing bizarrely in place.
“Armor,” she gasped, “has everyone else had an accident?”
“Looks like it,” Armor said, fighting another cramp. “It’s just you and me, now”. |
Maria peeked through the window in the door.
“He’s in here!” she confirmed. May removed a lock-pick from her pocket and got working on the heavy door. Within seconds, it clicked open. Jemma was already preparing the injection that would knock Haller out cold for several hours.
“Okay, agents, you know the plan. Agent Romanoff, stay here and keep watch. The rest of you, with me”.
No sooner had May, Maria and Jemma burst in the door than a figure walked around the corner. Blue-skinned, half-naked and smelling of shit. Natasha Romanoff recognised Mystique instantly, and the feeling was mutual. Bad time to need a poop, Nat thought dully.
“Ah, the famous Black Widow,” Mystique said, as if this was exactly what she had expected, “shall we begin?”
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
The bathroom door clicked open at last, and Jean Grey started to hurry in. Before she closed it behind her, she turned, grabbed a shocked Armor by the wrist and pulled her into the small bathroom with her.
“What are you doing?” Armor hissed, “I can’t be in here while you go, I’ll lose control just watching!”
Jean shut her up with a finger on the lips.
“Armor, listen to me,” Jean said carefully, “what we do in here can never leave this room. Never. Understand?” Armor nodded, looking dazed. “When I was younger I tried this trick a few times. It’s a squeeze, but I promise it’s possible. Do you trust me?”
“Of course, but-“ the words got lost somewhere in Armor’s throat when she realised that Jean was undressing, at least the bottom half. She was pulling her jeans and underwear around her ankles, and sitting down on the toilet. Jean sat carefully, placing her butt as far back as possible with her legs spread as wide as they could go. This gave Armor an unadulterated view of Jean Grey’s vagina- she didn’t seem to care. She patted the seat in front of her.
“Sit here, I promise you’ll fit,” she said confidently.
“I can’t-“
“Do you want to shit yourself or not?” Jean snapped. Armor knew she was right- it was the only option. Feeling the tip of her first turd start to slide out into her pants, she walked hurriedly towards the toilet and unbuttoned herself. The last thing she saw was the dark shape of a log dangling down between Jean Grey’s legs before she turned, sat down and lost herself in orgasmic relief.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
“Good try,” Natasha Romanoff snarled, barely beginning to getting her breath back. Mystique’s unconscious figure was slumped in a pile at her feet. “But I’ve had tougher fights with a street dog”.
In truth, it hadn’t been quite that easy. The evidence was in the way her heart was thumping in her chest, the sharp pains on her torso where Raven had gotten a few good kicks in. But she’d come out on top, of course.
The real consequence of the fight was currently filling her pants. Natasha knew from experience that being desperate to take a dump and fighting were rarely a good mix, and she’d started to feel herself losing control soon after Mystique had arrived. Stopping mid-fight to have a shit was, of course, not an option. So she’d let it happen and now, after the battle was won, it was still coming out in thick, ropey logs. By the time Natasha was once again the only conscious person in the corridor, she didn’t see the point of fighting her body. Instead, the famous Black Widow simply let it all come out. A hard ball slipped out of her underwear and fell onto the floor. It felt far too good for Natasha to care.
“It’s a good thing I knocked you out,” she said to nobody at all, “otherwise the smell woulda”.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
David woke up to the sight of two guns in his face. This was not unusual. Feeling a scratch on his left arm, he turned his head just ten degrees. Simmons was standing over him, a needle already deep in his flesh. She was writhing on the spot, snatching at her pussy whenever she only needed one hand- even only for a second. The other two S.H.I.E.L.D. whores stood at his feet, aiming their tiny pistols right between his eyes.
He had been caught, he knew that. Legion was furious, but David didn’t mind. Maybe it was for the best. Wherever they took him, there was surely going to be more women he could torment like he had today. The thought comforted him. The other thing he found awfully satisfying was that Jemma Simmons was evidently within seconds of an accident.
“He’s awake!” Jemma cried out, trying and failing to keep her voice down at the sight of David’s alert eyes. The other two primed their guns.
“Relax, ladies,” he croaked, “You seem to have things under control”. None of them said anything at this. They just waited cautiously, not taking their eyes off of their prisoner. Simmons removed the needle from his arm and pocketed it, now bouncing up and down like a schoolgirl.
“What was that?” he asked causally, seeming no more interested than a man asking a child what their favourite colour was.
“Tranquilliser,” Jemma said simply, “you’ll be out cold for a few hours”. David nodded at this; he wasn’t surprised.
“How long do I have before it kicks in?” He asked, taking great enjoyment from the panic in her eyes. He heard a drip on the floor, very close. There was no need to ask what had made the noise.
“One minute,” Jemma told him matter-of-factly. David chuckled.
“Long enough”.
“Long enough for what?”
“I think you know,” he said hoarsely.
“No, Legion. You’re not going to see me wee myself,” Jemma said, but even as the words left her mouth he could tell she knew it was a lie. With the little head movement he could still muster, David nodded towards her pussy.
“I already am”.
Jemma looked at him in horror as her dam finally burst. After being busting for so long, this was it. Her job was done and now her bladder couldn’t take any more. It gushed out of her like lava, flowing and cascading even as she tried with all her might to clench her muscles shut. He could fill in the gaps in his mind- imagine how it must be drenching her knickers, her pubic hair, her sweet, soft thighs.
“Leave it, Jemma, we’ve won,” he heard May say, “just finish your pee and we’ll get him out of here. You’re not the only one with ruined clothes today”.
“But I don’t understand,” Maria said. She looked right at David, his eyes beginning to close. “Why make everyone go to the bathroom in their clothes? Why not just kill us?”
He laughed again, an awful, throaty noise.
“It’s much more fun to sit back and watch,” he said.
And with that, his world went dark.
END |
Hi everyone. I’m back with a new idea for a story!
As most of my regular readers know, I like my stories to feature lots of wetting and desperation content, but only if it’s in someway realistic. I’m always trying to come up with new scenarios that fit this criteria. So, I’ve come up with an idea about two friends who decide to start making wetting videos for fun and profit. After this first, set up chapter, there is scope for a lot of wetting scenes.
I hope you enjoy it.
THE NECESSARY BACKSTORY
Megan and Polly first became friends during their freshman year of college. They were probably drawn together by the fact that they were both vaguely outcasts in the highly defined social structure of their school.
Megan was a chubby girl, slightly short of stature, with plain brown hair, wide hips, and black framed glasses. She had a very “loud” personality, and wasn’t shy at all. She wouldn’t take any crap from anybody, and could be very outspoken about any topic that she was passionate about, and she was passionate about a lot of topics. Although she wasn’t a typical “Popular Girl,” she was very social, and blended in easily with most demographics. If she didn’t, her “screw them” attitude served her very well.
Now people say that opposites attract, and that certainly seemed to be the case with Polly. Tall, stick thin, quiet, and very shy. Polly spent most of her time just trying not to be noticed, or make any waves.
She was a plain but pretty girl, with alabaster skin, blonde hair, and slightly green eyes, although she never made any major efforts to look any more than nice and presentable, preferring to just simply blend into the background rather than stand out.
Neither girl could precisely recall exactly how or when their friendship had started, but somewhere along the line, they had become firm friends. They often joked with each other that they were like two sides of the same coin, and their differences offset one another perfectly, each being a perfect foil for their own individual flaws.
————————————
THE FIRST WETTING INCIDENT
As with most stories of this genre, there is usually a moment or an incident that sets the ball rolling in the right direction. A “Butterfly Effect” moment if you will. For Megan and Polly, it was the night of the free concert in the park....
“Come on slow poke, drink up!”
Polly took another little sip of her hard cider, and gave Megan a good look at her middle finger in the process. Typical Megan! Always wanting to get buzzed before they went out. Polly did like a drink, but her friend really went hard at it sometimes, and always tried to get Polly to join in too.
She burped. “Get stuffed Meegs. I already told you, I’ll just have a couple. After all, someone has to keep their head clear enough to look after you!”
Megan downed the remainder of her beer in three big gulps, and grinned at her friend. They were drinking in the basement of Megan’s parents house, where a small but comfortable flat was where she called home. Ideally, she would like to move out, to find her own place, but that wasn’t possible as a poor first year college student.
“Come on Pol, I’m not that bad! I promise I’ll behave myself tonight, but we really should get a buzz going first. Won’t be anything to drink while we’re there!”
Polly shook her head, trying to look disappointed, but failing to hide her grin. “You don’t HAVE to be buzzed every time we go out, ya know?”
“Yeah. But that’s no fun, Miss Polly Perfect!”
The friendly, tipsy banter continued for awhile, until the time came to eventually leave, and catch the bus.
Being stereotypical broke students, going out to actual concerts was a rare event, but tonight, a Saturday, was a rare treat. Their local shire was hosting a free “Concert-In-The-Park,” complete with food stalls and various family entertainment, and a few friends (Of Megans naturally) were playing in a band. So after another couple of drinks, (Three for Megan, one for Polly,) they headed out to catch the bus. The park wasn’t far, and the ride would only take about twenty minutes.
Being a warm summer evening, Megan was dressed in a short sleeved black slip on shirt, a mid thigh length denim skirt, and flats, while Polly was dressed more conservatively in jeans and a yellow blouse, with Converse. She admired Megans self confidence. She just didn’t feel entirely comfortable in a skirt that didn’t go past the knees, and her legs were a lot more shapely than her friends. Maybe shapely wasn’t the right word. Megan’s legs certainly had a shape to them, just a much bigger, rounder, fuller shape tan what Pollys did. As per her normal attitude though, Megan couldn’t give a hoot about whether she was a bit on the larger size or not, and simply dressed for comfort.
Once they were clear of the house, Megan paused, pulling a small tin from her handbag, then extracting a small, hand rolled cigarette, which had a strange, sweet aroma when lit.
Polly rolled her eyes. “Not again Meegs? I thought you weren’t gonna mix weed with alcohol again? Remember how you spewed up everywhere last time?”
Megan shrugged, taking a deep drag, then passing it on to her friend. Despite her previous objections, Polly did take a quick hit before passing it back. She didn’t mind a small smoke occasionally, but wouldn’t drink too much beforehand. Besides, even if she did try to refuse, Megan would no doubt badger her until she caved in. It was easier this way.
“Relax Pol. I’ve only got this small one. Got it off my brother this morning. It’s hardly enough to do anything.”
“Except you’re doing it on six beers,” she muttered, but to no avail.
“Shit,” Megan muttered, as they approached the bus stop, just in time to see the rear end of the bus departing. “How long before the next one comes along?”
This was a perfect Polly question. She was always the one with important stuff like bus and class timetables at the forefront of her brain, and she answered instantly.
“Chill Meegs. Only about twenty minutes.”
“Aw shit,” Megan replied. “I really need to pee.”
Polly rolled her eyes. “Seriously? We just left home! Why on earth didn’t you go before we left?”
“Because I didn’t wanna miss the bus?” Megan replied sheepishly.
Polly burst out laughing, causing Megan to snort, then bend over with her hands in her lap, and her legs crossed.
“Bitch! Don’t make me laugh! I’ll pee myself!”
For Megan, the twenty minute wait was almost interminably long, then she had the bus ride still in front of her to go. Although she didn’t make a huge deal of it, Polly was well aware of how Megan kept her legs pressed tightly together, occasionally crossing her ankles, and mumbling under her breath with discomfort. Finally the nearly empty bus arrived, and with wobbly legs, she boarded first, dragging Polly all the way to the empty back seat, well away from the other few passengers. She slid to the side, so there was a bench seat in front of her.
Polly had a very minor buzz going, and had to try not to giggle. “Why are we sitting in the back Meegs? Are we now the cool kids or something?”
“Fat chance,” came the reply. “I really need to pee. This is more private.”
Polly paused. “What? You’re not going to do it on the bus! Are ya?”
Megan put a hand up her skirt, pressing her fingers against her pee hole, which was inside her hot pink satin panties.
“Not on purpose, doofus. But seriously, I don’t think I’m gonna make it....”
They lapsed into silence, Polly suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation, while Megan was distracted by her quivering pee hole, and the way her high kept increasing. She was already stoned, but it seemed to be getting deeper and heavier the longer she sat there. Normally, this would be perfect, but now, it was a distraction that she didn’t need. Her lower stomach was starting to ache, and she could almost feel the urine building up in her urethra, making every bump or turn of the bus almost intolerable.
The bus went over a bump, and was travelling maybe just a little bit fast, and both girls were bounced up off the seat for a second. Megan still had her hand pressed tightly against her panties, and suddenly, her fingers got warm.
“Shit! I just leaked,” she whispered almost violently to her friend. “Come on. We have to get off. NOW!”
“But Meegs, we’re almost there. Can’t you hold on? It’s only like two more stops?”
Megan stood up, and pressed the stop button. “Polly, I just peed myself a bit, and I’m about to lose it altogether. Come on! You have to stay with me here!”
The bus stopped, and they got off. Once safely on the sidewalk, the bigger girl turned around. “Is my butt wet?” She asked.
Polly looked, but her friends ample backside still looked dry, and the faded denim would certainly show up any wetness that was there, so she was quick to put her friends mind at ease, but one burning question still remained.
“Now what, Einstein? There’s no toilets here! Toldya we should’ve stayed on the bus.”
Megan grabbed her by the arm, pulling her towards a small, local park, that intersected some houses. It wasn’t really a park in the true sense of the word, more of a grassed strip between the houses with various paths leading into it for a pedestrian shortcut. “There,” she almost shouted, dragging Polly along with her.
Polly didn’t quite understand exactly what Megans plan was. The grass area was almost totally devoid of trees or bushes that could act as a screen, and there definitely wasn’t any facilities available, but she let herself get pulled along beside an increasingly desperate Megan. Suddenly, their direction changed, as Megan led her onto a side path the dissected two groups of houses, which both had high fences concealing their individual back yards. Yes, nobody from the houses could see them, but the path itself was wide open and completely visible from both ends. There still wasn’t anywhere private that a person could seek relief.
“Here. This’ll have to do,” Megan stage whispered, as she hopped from foot to foot, and started digging around frantically inside her handbag.
Polly was smirking, but looking a bit worried at the same time.
“Do? What do you mean, ‘Do?’ Come on Meegs! You can’t go here! Look! It’s wide open!”
Megan was kicking off her shoes on the middle of the concrete path, which was more difficult than usual, as she was keeping her knees firmly pressed together as she searched her bag. She smiled as she pulled her cell phone out, unlocked it, switched it on, then passed it to her friend.
“Here! I need a favour. Don’t ask any questions, just do as I say, ok?”
Polly took the phone, with a look of confusion. “Oookayyyy.....what do you want?”
Megan was flushed, with either embarrassment or desperation, but she was wearing what could only be described as a wicked grin on her face.
“Film me,” she said, issuing a deep breath after forcing the words out.
“Wait. What?”
“Film me. Just not my face, if you can help it. I can always edit it later, but it’s a lot easier if you can just keep my face out of it. Also, not just me, I want you to like film where we are. You know, like pan around a bit? But make sure you have the camera firmly on my panties when it happens. Don’t worry about the sound, I’ll cut all the sound out later.”
Polly was confused. “What do you mean, when it happens? When what happens? What am I filming?”
“I said no questions, just start filming!” Megan hissed, wincing at the tingly feeling at her pee hole. It was about to come out. She couldn’t stop it.
Polly was gobsmacked. She literally couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so she wordlessly took the offered phone. This didn’t make any sense to her at all, but Megans desperation was obvious, and if that’s what she wanted.....
“Come on Pol, start filming. Pan around. Quick!”
In a daze, Polly started filming. She looked back at the way they had come, then turned around slowly, her back to Megan, as she took in the area in front of them. At the moment, both parts were still vacant of people.
“Ohohohoh! Quick! Here it comes,” she heard from behind. “Make sure you get this! Remember. No face,”
Polly turned around, trying to keep everything in focus at the same time. What she saw, was enough to almost make her drop the phone in shock.
Megan was standing there, legs slightly spread, barefoot with her shoes kicked well clear, and her denim skirt hitched up past her waist, showing her pink satin panties to anyone that should be looking. Polly had no sooner gotten over her shock, when Megan hitched those panties up firmly against her sex, and a dark shadow of wetness started spreading across the front of them.
“Make sure you get this,” she whispered, as the pee started racing down both her legs, coating her feet, forming an ever growing puddle between and around them, her red painted toes curling as she breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“My feet. Make sure you get my feet,” Megan hissed, so Polly dutifully let the camera pan down her legs, recording the solid waterfall that was cascading down, to where her feet were splashing in the ever growing puddle.
Time seemed to freeze altogether, but Megans relief only lasted for around fifteen seconds, although the puddle on the cement was huge by the time she had finished. Polly kept nervously looking around, fully expecting someone to appear on the path at any moment, but it looked like luck was on their side.
“Quick. Last one. Zoom in on my pussy,” came the instructions, and again, she did as she was told, refocusing on Megans glistening crotch, as the girl pulled her sodden panties up tight enough to give her a camel toe, as the last of her pee bubbled through them, causing her to shiver and sigh.
Polly didn’t know what to expect next, so she kept recording, as Megan grabbed some tissues from her bag, and quickly wiped her legs and blotted the front and crotch of her panties, then stepped onto the grass and wiped her feet, and slipped her shoes on.
They paused just long enough for a close up of the massive pee puddle, then hurriedly walked away. Just as they were exiting the park, a guy came jogging past them, and they burst out laughing and ducked around the corner, hoping to get away before he saw the lake that had formed on the concrete. Polly waited until they were safely down the street before she spoke.
“Meegs? What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”
Megan was flushed, and looked embarrassed, but she was grinning. “That, my dear Polly, is sixty dollars. Fifty of which is pure profit.”
Whatever answer Polly was expecting, this wasn’t it. She just looked blankly at her friend.
“Look. Poll. Jeez. This is hard. But I kinda started a thing. Like a Tumblr thing. Plus an OnlyFans thing. Something I saw online to make money.”
“Make money how? I’m not following you. Christ Meegs. You just peed your pants!”
“For profit Pol, for profit. I found out that there’s people who will pay good money for videos of me peeing my pants, even more if they get the pants to keep! Some guy is paying me sixty bucks to wear these panties for two days, and to pee in them. They only cost me ten bucks to buy! I wore them yesterday, and today, and I was gonna film myself wetting them in the bathtub later, but I couldn’t hold on! I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to film it just because I had an accident!”
“But now what? Your knickers are soaked!”
Megan shrugged. “So what? They’ll dry out soon, and it’s easy money,” she lowered her voice, “Feels kinda good, too.”
To say Polly was shocked at this additional comment would be a massive understatement. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
Megan shrugged. “Exactly what it sounds like. I actually don’t mind the feeling. Makes me feel kind of sexy, and naughty.” She glanced sideways at her companion. “Tell the truth, Pol. You must’ve wet your pants before?”
Polly blushed. “Yeah. Of course I have. Not a lot since I was little, but I’ve had accidents before.”
“Did you hate it?”
“Well I didn’t like it,” she spluttered. “It’s not a big deal if nobody knows about it, I guess. Thankfully, no one has ever seen me.”
“Sooooo, you didn’t hate it?”
Polly almost answered straight away, but forced herself to pause, and consider it.
“Honestly? I guess it didn’t realllllyyyyy bother me, but mainly because nobody knew about it, until now I guess.”
Megan threw the handful of tissues into a bin they were walking past, and wiped her hands on the back of her skirt. When she spoke, her voice had an edge of excitement about it.
“You know Polly, I’ve got a great idea! You and me should totally go into business together! With both of us doing this, it makes filming a lot easier, and we could double the output!”
Pollys jaw dropped. “Whaaaaat? Are you fucking insane? Why on earth would I do that?”
“Two-three hundred bucks a week. Each. Tax free. What about that?”
Polly had to admit, it sounded interesting.
“Let’s talk about it,” she said. |
Chapter Two
Suddenly, the concert in the park was less interesting, and when Megan suggested that they stop in the local pub for a drink first, Polly happily agreed.
“Sit over there?” Polly asked, gesturing towards a small table.
“Um, actually, I think I’m better off standing,” Megan replied, blushing a bit.
It took Polly a second to comprehend why this was so, but when the penny dropped, she blushed a bit herself. They took their drinks outside into the beer garden, and found a quiet spot over to one side, well away from the other patrons where they could talk quietly without being overheard.
“So? Fess up! I’m dying here! You gotta tell me everything! Like how did you even come up with this mad scheme?”
Megan looked mildly uncomfortable, but excited at the same time. She was obviously a bit embarrassed, but also seemed really keen to explain the details.
“I saw it on a few Tumblr sites I’m on. People, well girls in particular, sharing videos of themselves wetting, and selling their panties afterwards. It looks like there’s a good market for it, so I thought I’d give it a go!”
“So how long have you been doing it for?” Polly was intrigued.
“This was my first time,” Megan explained. “I bought these panties, uploaded a few pics of me wearing them, and asked if anyone would be interested in watching me wet them, then buy them off me. The response was incredible! Within half an hour, this dude, well I guess it’s a dude, transferred the money straight to me! He asked me to wear them for two days, and wet them at least once, and film it. Easy as that!”
Polly was impressed, but also had at least one burning question.
“Ok. Cool. But how did you find out about this stuff in the first place Meegs? I mean, my Tumblr doesn’t show me stuff like that?”
The blush on Megans face deepened to the point where it looked possible to light a cigarette off her cheeks, but she plowed on with determination, after taking a deep breath.
“Don’t judge me, alright Pol? But, I kinda like stuff like that. Look. I know it’s weird, but there’s lots of people who are into it. It’s called Omorashi. Being desperate to pee, and wetting yourself. Like a sexual kink kinda thing. I can’t explain why, but I really like it. I have done for as long as I can remember. It makes me horny.”
Polly, unsure of exactly what to say, took a moment to sip on her drink, trying to mentally sort out just what she’d heard. After an short but uncomfortable silence, she tentatively proceeded.
“So, you like get turned on by pee play stuff. Like holding on and wetting yourself, is that it?”
It was Megans turn to lapse into silence, which was unusual, and she sipped her drink and nodded.
“Wow. You never said anything about this before.”
“Of course I fucking didn’t,” she hissed. “It’s not like something that just comes up in general conversation, is it?”
“Ok, ok. Don’t get antsy Meegs. I’m not judging, I’m just trying to understand all of this. Like how? When? Why? What started this?”
As per her normal, when she got excited or nervous, she distracted herself by draining her beer. Polly had barely touched hers, so Megan got herself another one, while her mind raced, trying to work out exactly what she should or shouldn’t say. When she returned, she began to explain.
“Honestly, I don’t really know. When I was a little kid, I’d wet myself sometimes. Not always accidentally either. If I was playing outside and had a dress or skirt on, I’d simply do my tinkle through my panties on the lawn. My mum didn’t seem to mind much, so long as it was outside. I always peed in my swimsuit too. I loved doing that.”
Polly nodded. “I get that part. I did too. I think nearly all kids do that. It’s part of playing in water I guess.”
“Yeah! Exactly! But I never really grew out of it. As I got older, I stopped deliberately wetting myself when mum could find out, but I still did it in private sometimes, like before I had a shower or something, then I’d hide my knickers until they were dry. I didn’t do it all the time, but I kept doing it. Then when I was thirteen, I discovered something...”
Polly was intensely interested by now, especially since her friend had lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “What? What did you discover?”
Megan grinned. “That if I peed in my panties, then rubbed the wet spot, that I would cum.”
Both of the girls burst into laughter at that, making a few people look towards them.
“So, that’s about it,” she continued. “It just kind of went on from there. I guess the naughty, free feelings from when I was little just kinda morphed into it being a turn on. I started searching for stuff online, found out that I wasn’t the only person in the world who did it, and it went from there! It’s a lot more common that what you think.”
Polly nodded. “No doubt. I mean obviously I’ve heard of it before. Are you one of those Adult Babies Meegs?”
She shook her head. “Nah. That’s a bit weird for me. Although I will admit, I’d be happy to try wearing a diaper one day. Just to see what it feels like.”
Polly almost choked on her drink. “What? Really? You’d wear a nappy?”
“SHHHHHH! Fuck sake Pol. Keep it down, ok? But yes. I’d like to try that one day. Now how about you? You said you’ve wet yourself before and didn’t actually hate it. Tell me what it’s like for you?”
Pollys natural defences were down a bit. The alcohol, small amount of pot, and the excitement of what she’d seen all combined in a heady mixture, and she felt uncharacteristically open to what would normally be an uncomfortable conversation.
“Okay. I’ll let you in on a secret too. Nobody in the whole wide world knows this, except me and my parents. But I used to wet the bed when I was a kid. Like almost every night, till I was about nine or ten. I used to wear pull ups to bed every night. I didn’t go to a single camp or sleepover until I was twelve, because I was always too scared of what might happen.”
Megan punched her lightly on the arm. “Awww. You poor thing. That must’ve been hard. What about during the day? Did you ever have accidents?”
“A few I guess. I mean, doesn’t every kid at some point? I never ever had one at school though, so that’s something. But yeah, I peed my pants a few times I guess.”
“How did your parents react? Did they ever get mad at you?”
Polly shook her head. “Nah. I mean mum wouldn’t be super impressed if it happened, she might’ve scolded me a little, but not too much. I guess the fact that I wet in my sleep might’ve softened the blow a bit. You know, made it less of a big deal?”
“That makes sense,” Megan agreed. “When was the last time you had an accident?”
Polly blushed. “Honestly? A few weeks ago, leaving your place actually. I sneezed while riding my bike home, and a bit came out. I can get a leak sometimes if I cough, laugh or sneeze unexpectedly.”
“Stress incontinence,” Megan said with authority.
Polly nodded. “Yeah. Believe me, I’ve looked it up. I know it happens. Thankfully for me, it’s usually only a little leak, not like a big accident.”
“When was your last big accident, Pol?”
She considered this in silence for a few seconds. “My last big one? Like a full on accident? A few years ago, aged about fifteen I guess. I wet myself walking home from school. I never liked the school toilets, and I always tried to wait until I got home, but I didn’t make it that day. I was wearing jeans too. Totally soaked myself, and mum saw me. Really embarrassing.”
“I’ll bet,” said Megan. “How good is your bladder control? Not talking about little sneeze pee stuff, but holding on in general?”
Polly shrugged. “Not bad, I guess. To be honest, I don’t ever really try to hold on too long. Since I wet my pants that day, I always try and use the toilet whenever I can. It taught me a lesson, that’s for sure! What about you?”
“Mines okay I guess, but not perfect. What happened earlier was really a proper accident. I didn’t do that on purpose. I really like holding on, but if I do that for too long, I’ll end up wetting myself and I can’t help it, but that’s kind of what turns me on as well. The feeling of losing control for real. I mean wetting my pants on purpose is fun, but not as exciting as having a real, unplanned accident! That’s why I’d like to try diapers one day. I think it would be so cool to have a big nappy on in public, and be busting to go, then accidentally lose control for real, like what happened earlier. Look. I know you must think I’m weird, but to me, that’s exciting!”
Polly nodded. “Believe it or not, I do kinda get that? I mean, the whole being nervous and naughty bit I guess. As you know, I’m not the most talkative person going around, especially in a large group. I just don’t like opening up very much. But deep down, it does feel kind of nice to have secrets that nobody else knows about. Look. I’ll tell you one of mine. I really like taking nude pictures of myself sometimes....”
Megan paused with her drink up close to her mouth. “What? You send naughty photos?”
Immediately Polly blushed. “NO! Nonononono! I’d never do that! But I do like taking the photos and deleting them later. It makes me feel kind of, I don’t know, squirmy? Naughty? Like I’m doing something really bad, but I’m getting away with it?”
Megan grinned. “EXACTLY! That’s kind of what I feel like with wet knickers on. Like now. Here we are, surrounded by total strangers, and I’m wearing soaked panties. But nobody knows! It makes me feel kinda sexy somehow!”
They finished their drinks, and left the pub, making their way towards the park. When they were still a block away, Polly leant over and stage-whispered to her friend.
“Man. I wish I hadda gone to the loo before we left the pub! I’m busting all of a sudden.”
She punched Megans arm. “It’s your damn fault. You distracted me too much!”
Megan gave her a sly glance. “You could always just wet yourself you know. We could film it. Not your face of course, but I’m sure we could sell it online....”
Polly was horrified. “Are you fucking mental? I’m wearing jeans you idiot!”
“Just a suggestion,” Megan replied with a grin.
Once they entered the park, Polly almost dragged Megan towards the toilet block, that unfortunately had a line up of women waiting at the door.
“Typical,” she muttered. “Come on. Are you coming with me?”
“Nah. You go. I’ll just wait here, I hate public toilets,” so Polly took to the end of the line by herself.
The line moved slowly, and Polly soon found that her need to pee was increasing more and more with every passing minute. What had started out as a mild need, was very quickly becoming very uncomfortable. There were at least eight ladies or girls in front of her, and after five minutes, only four had managed to get in. She felt a bloating sensation developing in her lower stomach area, and an uncomfortable quivering between her legs. She became aware that her toes were clenching and unclenching inside her Converse, and she shifted her weight slightly, pressing her thighs together. To make matters worse, no other person in line seemed to be feeling the same level of desperation that she was feeling. A couple of girls were chatting quietly to each other, and most everyone else were glued to their phones.
Trying to ignore her aching bladder and twitchy, slightly damp pee hole, Polly took her own phone out, and absentmindedly switched it on. Almost immediately, a message notification appeared, from Megan.
“Haha! You look desperate! Shoulda wore a dress or skirt like me! Sucka!”
Despite herself, she grinned, although she felt herself blushing a bit at the same time at the inference. Damn it! Even if she DID wear a skirt, there was absolutely no way that she would ever wet herself on purpose! At least not in public. Although, Megans idea of doing it for profit DID sound like it could have some merit in it.....
The line moved forward again, as another two girls left the toilet, and two more went in. Only four left now before her turn. She shuddered slightly, dreading what the state of the toilets would be like by the time she got in there. Honestly, the ladies room could be just as bad as the men’s room sometimes. It was almost as if some girls deliberately peed all over the seat and floor.
Ohhh. Despite telling herself that she couldn’t possibly do a potty dance in public, Polly suddenly crossed her ankles, and put a hand protectively against her pubic mound. She had felt her urine starting to move inside her, like it was about to surge straight through her urethra, and explode into her pants. She removed her hand from between her legs, feeling the heat rising in her face, but thankfully not inside her panties. Yet.
She started to look around anxiously, wondering if there were any other options available to her. Shit. She’d even contemplate going behind a bush at this point! But alas, there simply wasn’t anywhere else she could go. Her mind tracked back to when she had wet herself walking home from school years ago, and she couldn’t remember being this desperate back then. The sudden realisation that she was about to publicly wet herself filled her with a mixture of fear and shame.
And excitement.
What?! Where the fuck did that thought come from?
She recrossed her legs the other way, not caring how she must look anymore. If she didn’t do it, the pee would be running down her legs at any given moment. Her phone pinged again.
“You look so hot and desperate Pol! We should totally be filming this! You’re a natural! 😉”
Polly shivered. Of course Megan was watching. She could only hope that her desperation wasn’t as obvious to anybody else.
The strange thing was, knowing that her friend was not only watching, but enjoying her desperation, added to the excitement! Although she was absolutely terrified of wetting herself, on some level, deep down, it felt incredibly erotic to be so absolutely full-to-bursting in public! Her thoughts flicked back to watching Megan wet herself earlier, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. At the time, she had been shocked into disbelief, but now, she could almost understand just what it must’ve been like for her friend to do in front of her. She could feel a slight warm wetness against her sex that wasn’t pee. At least not yet.
The toilet door opened, and a mother with three young girls emerged, and suddenly, the doorway to Pollys salvation was at hand. She scurried in behind the other girls who were in front of her, and headed straight into the first available cubicle.
As expected, the state of the restroom left a lot to be desired. There was pee on the seat, and the rubbish bin was full, but with her body aching for relief, it was almost heavenly. Polly tore some paper off the roll with one hand, and started wiping the seat, while her other hand started struggling with the button on her jeans. She dumped the paper into the bowl as she yanked her jeans down, feeling a sudden squirt of warmth in her panties before she could get them down.
The sight of the toilet had been like a trigger, and her bladder had stopped asking, and started giving orders instead. It was going to empty itself now, regardless as to if she was ready or not. With her jeans around her knees, and pee trickling down both her thighs, Polly gave up on trying to save her underwear, choosing to just turn around and sit down, sighing with relief as a strong eruption of pee exploded inside her striped cotton briefs, and she shivered with excitement as she felt the wetness rapidly spreading up and over her sex, between her legs, and creeping up around the bottom of her buttocks, as multiple streams erupted into various mini waterfalls that started splashing noisily into the toilet bowl.
Polly put her hand sideways into her mouth, and bit down firmly, trying to muffle any groans of pleasure or relief that might escape. The restroom was noisy, as ladies entered and left, some chatting and laughing, and taps were being turned on and off. As she bit her left hand, while peeing loudly through her panties, her right hand found itself snaking down into the hot stream, then began rubbing firmly against the sodden cotton.
The fact that she was sitting there silently wetting herself in a room full of strangers that had no idea what was going on was so thrilling to her. Polly had never felt excitement such as this before. She could feel her orgasm approaching even before she had finished wetting herself, and her thighs tightened together, firmly trapping her hand against her dripping panties as she came.
It took a moment for her breathing to slow down, then she removed her shoes, jeans and panties, carefully keeping her socks of the dirty floor, before putting everything back on except the underpants. Only after she had wiped herself as much as she could, did she stand up, and pulled her jeans back up without any underpants on.
On shaky legs, she exited the cubicle, her wet panties scrunched into a tight little ball in her hands. There was people everywhere, and she nervously approached the sink, anxious to wash her hands. Without looking around, she dropped the wet panties into the rubbish bin, but, to her horror, they bounced off the rim, and fell to the floor. She picked them up quickly, finding the open lid easily on the second attempt, then froze as she saw the grinning face of another girl reflected in the mirror above the sink, standing directly behind her.
“Don’t worry babe, it happens to me too sometimes,” the girl whispered, giving her a wink before walking out.
Polly felt herself blushing from the roots of her hair, but as she washed her hands, she could feel the excitement building inside her once more. This complete stranger now knew that she had wet herself, and that was hot. Really hot. Hot enough that her pussy was starting to feel a bit wet again already. After drying her hands, she almost ran out of the bathroom.
Megan was standing on the grass, right beside the path. She had kicked her shoes off, and was staring intently at her phone, but looked up as Polly approached.
“I was starting to worry. Thought you’d fallen in or something,” she said.
“We have to talk,” Polly replied. “I want to hear more about this plan of yours.”
Megan chuckled. “Ha! I knew you’d be interested! What changed your mind?”
“I had a bit of an accident, just in my panties, if you must know.”
“Me too,” Megan replied with a grin, bobbing her head down, indicating that Polly should look down as well.
Polly followed her friends glance, and saw the drying wet stripes on Megans bare legs and feet, and how the grass was wet between them. There was even a tiny trickle that had run through the grass and onto the concrete kerb beside the path.
“See? It’s that easy,” she said, putting her phone away, and Polly suddenly understood that Megan had been filming her feet and ankles as she peed.
“Back to your place to talk?” Polly asked.
“Let’s go,” Megan replied. |
(Image credit goes to the artist, Peach of aminoapps.com)
Pamela's Plight
It was another cold and gloomy day in the forsaken lands of Ikana Canyon. This was nothing new to Pamela, however, almost every day in Ikana was like this. Pamela, a young but mature girl, had moved here from Clock Town with her father, so that he could research the spirits, undead and other such supernatural things of Ikana Canyon. Pamela thought about this as she stood at the edge of the well, she thought about how she wished that they had never come to this horrible place.
"What a desolate place. Why did Father have to bring us here?" Pamela said aloud. Ikana was mostly devoid of life, and the isolation would often bother Pamela, so she would sometimes speak to herself. Hearing a living voice was comforting, even if it was merely her own. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a particularly aggressive bout of wind. The dead trees and craggy rocks of Ikana Canyon created perpetual howling wind that was very foreboding.
Pamela peered down into the well, it looked like a bottomless black abyss. As she stared down into the ebon nothingness, a gust of ice cold wind blew upwards from down in the well. Pamela shuddered as the gust made contact with her, there was something so sinister about it. Whenever she was outside in Ikana, Pamela always felt as if she was being watched, and after the gust of wind from the well, this feeling increased tenfold.
Pamela's father had recently been researching the Gibdos specifically, and had discovered a colony of them residing at the bottom of the well. Gibdos are undead mummified corpses. A recent discovery brought to light a melody known as, Farewell to Gibdos which would drive any nearby Gibdos away once heard. Pamela's father had programed the music box, affixed to the roof of their house to play this melody in order to protect himself and his daughter. Unfortunately, he finally decided to enter the well so that he could more closely observe the Gibdo colony lurking down there, but he was effected by a curse at the bottom of the well which began to transform him into a Gibdo himself.
Ever since this happened, Pamela had gone to the Well daily, trying to muster the courage to enter the well and search for a way to cure her father. And every day this ritual ended the same, with Pamela's courage failing and her running back towards the house in fear after staring down into the daunting black of the well. As she stood there listening to the wind, and contemplating the well, Pamela suddenly realized something: she could hear the wind, only the wind. Why couldn't she hear the music?!
Remembering what had happened the last time that the music box stopped working, Pamela's stomach began to churn with fear. Quickly she turned around and began sprinting back for home. "No, no... please no!" Pamela thought to herself as she was nearing the house. "NO!" she exclaimed aloud as she reached the creek that was connected to the waterwheel which powered the music box. The creek had run dry! For the last several days, the water flow had been lessening. Pamela merely hoped that it was a fluke in the rain cycle or something, and that it would pick back up. But she was wrong...
That's when she heard it, a hideous groan coming from the direction of her front door. Looking over, she saw her father standing outside near the front of the house. The curse already had him in a grotesque state, at least fifty percent of his body had now been mummified, and subsequently wrapped in bandages. What of his face was still exposed was a horrid picture of twisted pain and madness.
"Father, what are you doing out here?!"
"*Unintelligible moaning*"
"Wait right there, I'm coming to you!" she called out.
Pamela broke out at a light run towards her father. As she was running, something suddenly burst from the earth beneath her feet, and grabbed her by the ankle, causing her to fall forward onto her stomach. Looking down, Pamela saw the mummified hand of a Gibdo clutching her ankle. She let out a shrill scream of terror and began kicking at it's putrid, bandaged hand. Finally she was able to kick free and quickly jump to her feet. Looking back towards her father, she saw that several more Gibdos had risen from the ground and were closing in on her father's location.
"Joooooin uuuusssssss..." one of the Gibdos hissed.
"Y-y- yeaaargh ahh esss" he replied.
"DADDY, NO!" Pamela shrieked as she saw her father take a shambling step towards the other Gibdos. Pamela sprinted towards them and got between her father and the Gibdos. "Stay back you monsters!" she cried as she struggled to usher her father back into the house.
(Artist: unknown)
Once inside, Pamela pulled her father by the hand, and lead him down into the basement. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, "F-father" *sniffle* "You can't run off on me like that." He merely returned her gaze with a look of confusion and fear, like a reprimanded puppy that didn't understand how it injured itself.
"I'm sorry, Daddy, but I have no choice..." Pamela said as she pushed him into the closet and locked the door.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Pamela put her back to the closet door, and slid down until she was sitting on the floor, her heart was still racing from the encounter with the Gibdos. Suddenly, she hear a loud banging on the front door from upstairs.
"Jooooin.....uuuuuuusssssss...."
"Oh no, I forgot the door!" Pamela cried out.
Pamela sprinted up the stairs towards the front door, she saw that the creatures on the other side were fiddling with the doorknob, and she could here them pounding on the wood. Thinking fast, she ran over and pulled the lever, extending the heavy lock into place. Gradually, the Gibdos subsided their attempts at the door. Pamela crept towards one of the windows and peeked out through the reinforced lattice panels. Outside, she could see the Gibdos shuffling around the house in an endless circle. Mindlessly they were chanting, "Ooone of uuuusssss..." over and over.
Pamela pulled a spare bed mat down into the basement, and curled up into the fetal position on it. Burying her face into the mat, she began to cry from the fear and stress of the situation. Occasionally the Gibdos outside would halt their circling and chanting to come and beat upon the house for several minutes before resuming the chant circle. For several hours, Pamela laid there on the floor, paralyzed with fear. Every time the monsters would come to beat on the house, she would shut her eyes and cover her ears, terrified that this time would be the time that they broke in. After several hours of this, Pamela was only just begining to realize that she needed to pee. But she didn't dare go upstairs yet, she was fearful to make any noise. She stuck her hand between her legs and pressed her thighs together, hoping that the building pressure would just go away.
As more time passed, with nothing to do but stare fearfully at the stairwell, Pamela's need to pee quickly grew much worse. Finally, the pressure was becoming too much to bear, and Pamela began to look around for a solution.
"I could use that bucket over there?" She thought to herself. "No, no, I can't do that, Father would be furious at me if I peed in his bucket, he needs that to hold the grease for the music box gears..." The pressure was steadily getting much much worse, as Pamela was a small girl with a little bladder. "Maybe if I went on a pile of towels? Ew, no that would dirty them up, and we can no longer wash them in the creek. Eeek, what was that noise?! I'm fine, I'm fine!" She thought to herself again. "What if I were to just...go on the floor? No, I can't, only babies make messes on the floor, I'm a big girl now, no way I can do that!"
Finally Pamela determined that she would find no solution in the house, and that there was no way she was going to be able to hold it. She HAD to make it to the outhouse somehow. The Gibdos outside seemed to have quieted down, so Pamela silently tiptoed up the stairs. She could feel her bladder ache with every step she took. She did her best to quietly undo the door latch, and slowly cracked the front door open to have a peek outside. Pamela didn't see any Gibdos at first. "Maybe my luck is finally turning around?" She thought to herself. Suddenly, a Gibdo shuffled into view, only about two meters from the front door. The Gibdo slowly turned its head, and let out a very loud, almost feminine scream as its gaze locked with Pamela's. She was frozen in place, literally paralyzed with fear, transfixed by the Gibdo's spellbinding gaze. It turned its lanky body and began to trudge towards the door...
Pamela struggled to move, but couldn't, her knees buckled, and her legs felt like lead. She wanted to scream, but only choked on her own breath as she opened her mouth. It felt akin to the paralysis often experienced when attempting to forcefully wake from a bad dream. Pamela struggled with all her might to move, to scream, to look away... anything! She began to feel a warm sensation grown in her underwear, this stimulus, finally helped her to break her gaze away from the Gibdo. As she broke free from the spell of fear, she fell backwards onto the cold floor, also swinging the door inward. Hitting the floor, Pamela instantly tensed all of the muscles in her body, putting a temporary hold on whatever accident was going on under her dress. She looked up through the doorway and saw the Gibdo again, it was only a few feet away from entering the house. The nearness of danger sent a wave of nausea through her stomach, and a pang of fear through her chest. This pang caused another small spurt of warmth to spread through her panties as Pamela instinctively leapt to her feet, slammed the door, and pulled the latch into place. As soon as the door was secured, both of Pamela's hands shot down in-between her legs, attempting to hold back the floodgates. The noise had alerted all of the other Gidbos, and they had now joined in banging on the house.
With both hands between her legs, Pamela fearfully scampered back downstairs into the basement. Despite the looming fear of what was upstairs, she took the time to inspect the damage to her dignity. She lifted her pink dress and looked at her green tights, there was a small wet patch, barely noticeable. Reaching underneath her tights however, she could feel that her panties were already fairly wet. At this point, Pamela was desperate enough, and disgraced enough that she was considering dropping her clothes and peeing here on the floor. Suddenly, she heard her father banging around in the closet, and calling out to her with muffled groans.
"Uuuh, aahh, P-paaahhhmeeahl-l-leeaaahh uurrng"
"N-no, f-father, not... right...now..."
"*More unintelligible moaning*"
"Father please! I-I can't do...this in front of you" she said as tears of desperation began to well up in her eyes.
"Nonono noo, I c-can't.....h-hold it! Oh..ah, no, eeeh!"
Pamela made helpless little noises as she lost control. She felt another wave of wet warmth flood into her panties, she could not hold it back. One wave quickly turned into two, into three and into a continuous dribble. She clutched her hands against her vagina.
"No, I'm too old for this! Eeek!" She sobbed as she felt the pee soak through her little green tights and leak through her fingers. The continuous dribble had now become an unstoppable stream. Her urine was running down both her legs, leaving dark green streaks in her tights, and pooling on the stone floor beneath her. Pamela's shoes also began to fill with pee. Realizing it was hopeless, she buckled her knees together and stood there shaking as she continued to fully wet herself.
After what felt like several minutes, Pamela finally finished wetting herself. She stood there for several minutes more, crying and unable to move.
"D-daddy, I-I'm s-" *sniffle* "s-sor-ry! I h-had an accident on y-y-" *sob* "your floor!"
"*Unintelligible groans*"
"I'm s-so sorry, please don't be mad at me, I tried to be a big girl!" Pamela cried at her father.
Her cries of shame and desperation had once again alerted the Gibdos outside, and had brought them pounding on the house again. Pamela let out another eek of terror, and dove for the security of her sleeping mat. The accident had made her feel even more like a helpless little girl. Crying, she curled up into a tiny ball and hid there, laying in her own pee soaked clothes, not knowing what else to do.
Written by:
High Meme-Overlord |
So this is my craziest idea yet. Maybe my worst. But I think there's gold in these hills, if we can pull it off.
I've spent a huge part of the last month writing commissions, all fanfics, mostly centred around superhero-based properties: The Justice League, The Avengers, The X-Men, those kinds of iconic characters. I wanted to write something inspired by the Superhero genre. And the idea that I kept coming back to, that won't leave me alone, is one of an Omorashi shared universe. Separate stories about different characters, maybe even written by different authors, could cross over and coexist in the same world. Here's part one of the first story!
Is it a terrible idea? Let's find out.
PS: I'd love for this to be a collaborative thing, so if any writers want to be a part of it please feel free to DM me.
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Rush-hour at Manchester Piccadilly was a bad hour to be in a rush. As soon as the 17:46 pulled into the station, every passenger on the packed train rose as one from their seats and flocked to the doors. They swarmed onto the platform, moving like zombies in a singular direction, all just wanting to get home and forget about the last nine hours.
A girl emerged from the depths of the crowd, weaving through slow-moving foot traffic until she escaped towards the front of the pack. She was paced far too quickly to call walking, not fast enough to be running- but just barely, as if she was restraining herself from breaking into a sprint. Her hair was short, curled and jet black. Olive skin still wore the final smatterings of acne, left untouched by foundation or concealer. Sharp, restless eyes darted from person to person, as if to calculate the least turbulent route through the pillars of flesh with whom she shared the platform. A denim jacket covered most of a tight pink shirt. Slung over one shoulder was a pink rucksack which bounced against her back with each step. It jiggled in synchronicity with the untamed locks on her head. The girl was a skinny thing- barely more than five feet tall, perhaps five-two- and ducking between the lines of pedestrians was second nature to her.
She shot straight towards the ticket gates, spotted an open set of doors and slipped through while the attendant argued with a red-headed man carrying a bicycle. On the other side, the girl stopped dead. Waited, just for half a second. And darted forwards again, through a gap in the perpendicular flow of unaware adults and onto the escalator that carried thousands of tired legs a day down to the ground floor. No time to stop and let the mechanism do all the work- she rushed down, across a stretch of floor and onto the second escalator. Seconds later, she spilled out onto Fairfield Street. By the time she'd crossed the road with a hasty glance for oncoming traffic and ducked onto Wyre, most of the passengers she had shared a train with were still digging their tickets out of an array of wallets, pockets and purses.
Turning right at the intersection of Wyre and Travis Street, the girl at last began to slow down. Anyone who spotted her as they drove past down London Road would have seen a young woman walking perfectly normally, if a little hastily. They would simply have assumed that she had somewhere she needed to be, and that assumption was accurate. But someone watching from a closer viewpoint might have seen the concern on her face, picked up on the heaviness in her breathing. They might have noticed how her flat chest heaved up and down as she waited for the traffic lights to change. She slid a dented white iPhone out of the pocket of her black jeans, checked the time and put it away again. A hole in the traffic materialised and she seized her chance, nipping over the road in seconds and beginning the trek up Grosvenor Street- the final stretch.
Now, her movement began to accelerate once more. A nervous glance over her shoulder confirmed that the road was empty. The girl was walking, now jogging, now running, almost flat-out charging towards her salvation. For a moment it looked as though she would keep running towards the Union and then, at the last second, she turned through a broken gate, down one of the garden paths and up to the door of a modest semi-detached. One slender hand dipped into the pocket of the denim jacket, fumbled... and came away empty. She swore out loud. Her legs were pressed together, knees bouncing the minutest amount. Her other hand went for the other pocket and came away with a single silver key on a bare keyring. The girl jammed it into the lock, twisted, shoved the red-painted oak open and entered.
What came next was nothing short of a well-rehearsed routine, something that had undeniably been done several dozen times before. The door slammed shut behind her, barely missing a crumpled doormat that threatened to block the latch. At the same instant, she tossed the key onto a narrow shelf to her right and kicked off each thick grey trainer, left foot first, one after the other. The pink rucksack was dropped beside her shoes in the hallway. Three feet from the door stood a carpeted staircase. She cleared it in five steps, taking them two or three at a time, not bothering to stay quiet- knowing there was nobody in to hear. The girl raced across the landing and into a narrow bathroom, the only one in the house. The toilet seat was already down, the lid already up- thank God for small blessings. Equally, the button of her jeans had been unhooked in advance, although she wasn't sure exactly when she'd done that. It was another automatic part of her well-oiled machine.
As her tolerance waned dangerously, the girl hooked each thumb between her underwear and her hip. In one swift motion, she turned, slid down her jeans and knickers together and sat down hard. No sooner had her flesh hit the seat than the flow began in earnest, echoing loudly around the bowl. The girl closed those restless green eyes, rested her elbows on her knees and sighed, a long, relieved exhalation. For a long while all that she could hear was the hiss of her stream hitting the water, sounding more and more like a steel bottle being filled from an old tap. After thirty seconds or so the stream started to die off, to taper away into an irregular dribble. Only then did she force herself to inspect the damage. She leant forward and took the middle of her panties in one hand. The first touch told her that they were wet. Running a thumb over the cotton surface, she assessed that the leak had been moderate; the crotch of the underwear had taken a hit but it hadn't soaked through to her jeans. For the most part, she had gotten away with it. Not perfect, but a hell of a lot better than many, many times before. Barely a year ago, even making it to the end of the street would have been considered a huge victory for her. Was her capacity growing or was she growing more determined?
Still seated, the girl pulled her jeans and underwear off and balanced them on her lap. Her phone, almost out of charge once again, was balanced on the edge of the sink. She wiped herself twice, folding up two pieces of toilet paper each time, and flushed before she got up. Bottomless, she walked to the washbasket on the landing and dumped her slightly soiled underwear inside. The jeans went back in her closet for another day. When she'd folded them half-heartedly and stored them, she closed the door and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the front of the cabinet. Half-naked, skinny, flat, blemished. Usually she hated looking at her reflection. Right now, though, in the relief-scented afterglow of her rush home, she could manage a wry smile.
Well, Zahra, the girl thought, you made it home this time. I'd call that a win. |
Zahra woke up, as she often did, busting for a wee. In her vast experience, it was far more surprising for her to wake up not needing to go- unless, of course, she'd wet the bed again... but that hadn't happened in a few months, and she was keeping her wishful fingers crossed that it was behind her. For a bladder like hers, going eight hours without the toilet while awake was an impossible task. Managing it through the night was usually doable... just. If she got too full while she slept her body would generally wake her. On those nights she had mastered the art of slipping out of bed, stumbling through the stale darkness and emptying herself on the loo without ever fully opening her eyes. Most of the time, though, Zahra woke up when her alarm demanded and did so with a bladder fit to burst.
That life-changing morning fell into the latter category. Her abdomen bore a fierce sort of ache, a get-to-the-toilet-right-now sort of ache, but one she knew well. It was an ache that meant there was no time to waste. She swung her legs off the single bed and stood, feeling the pee inside of her rush downwards as she did. That was the worst part of waking up desperate: the standing. It always made her feel like gravity wanted her to simply pee where she stood. A quick, reassuring squeeze through her laceless black undies (the comfy kind she wouldn't be seen dead in by anyone but her mother) bought her some time. Aside from the panties, the only other thing she had on was an oversized Disneyland tee-shirt she'd bought from Paris a few years ago that was only ever used for sleeping in. This didn't bother her. In the relative heat of mid-June Manchester, that getup was perfect for keeping her warm in bed. Come August, though, she'd be sleeping naked, as she did for the warmest nights of every year. Her family were plenty used to her roaming the house in the nude by now, so they certainly weren't going to look twice at what she was wearing that morning.
But there was no family to see her on the landing. Her mother would have already left for work and her little brother, judging by the sounds coming from the bathroom, was taking a shower. He was the opposite of Zahra: fifteen years old, popular, handsome and intensely private. Unlike the women of the household, he never left the bathroom door unlocked, whether he was showering, shaving or using the toilet. As such Zahra didn't even bother trying the handle. She rapped on the door twice with her knuckles and called to him. In her urgency, she was far from gentle.
"Cas, hurry up, I really need a wee," she said loudly. It was strange, she knew. Zahra was incredibly shy about her bathroom needs when talking to anyone else in the world. Even her closest friends, back when she'd had them, had never heard her so much as admit that she needed to go. But with Caspar she really didn't care. In fact, he'd told her on plenty of occasions that he wouldn't mind her being a little bit less open with him on that front.
"Sorry, Zee," he called back. She could hear the water running over his smooth shoulders and onto the bath in sheets. "I just got in, give me two minutes".
Zahra groaned in frustration and squeezed her crotch again for comfort. She didn't have two minutes. It was already too desperate to consider waiting that long. Caspar was more than aware of how tiny her bladder was- he'd seen her have countless accidents- but rarely made an effort to speed up for her. Once, she'd asked him if he'd really rather she wet herself than saw him in the shower. He'd said yes.
There was only one thing for it, and Zahra didn't see the point in putting it off any longer. When a person is as accident-prone as she was, they tend to formulate a few back-up plans. Hers was effective; it had never let her down. She turned, retreated to her room and closed the door. By this point Zahra was engaged in a full-on potty dance, constantly shifting her weight from foot to foot, hips swaying. Within seconds, her panties and t-shirt were off. She shoved them right up against the base of the door to give her a few seconds of warning if someone tried to enter. What she was about to do was not something that needed an audience.
Fully naked, Zahra grabbed the only two things on her bedside table: a roll of toilet paper and an empty glass. The glass was always empty because she knew she would wet the bed if she drunk water before going to sleep. The roll of toilet paper was always full because, even though she told her mother it was there for nosebleeds, her nose had not bled since long before the London Olympics. Vashti Kamari was a sharp woman, but she either had not or did not want to put two and two together to figure out the real reason for those two objects being everpresent by her daughter's bed. Zahra backed up against her bedroom door, leaning with all her weight against it, making the thing further difficult to open. This was another well-practiced routine. She wasn't proud of it. But needs must.
Hastily, methodically, she stripped off six sheets of toilet paper. Next, she pressed them down to the very bottom of the tall glass. At this stage it was a race against time. She could feel the pressure starting to win, feel the first trickles of pee pushing out of her urethra. She inspected the glass closely. It had to be perfect. There could be no question that someone might hear her. Satisfied, and not able to wait a second longer anyway, Zahra went to move the glass into position.
A single droplet of warm morning pee escaped and hit the carpet between her bare feet.
Then she got the glass where it needed to be and let the torrent flow. It gushed out of her, generating an incredible feeling of pleasurable relief. She closed her eyes and moaned softly, careful to keep her voice down as the urgent need was abated. Zahra could feel the glass growing warmer in her hand, could sense the heat of her urine through the material. Once the initial, near-orgasmic release had passed, she looked down at her handiwork. The stream was still shooting steadily out of her like a water feature. She was peeing for half a minute, the glass filling rapidly but just about big enough to hold her full capacity. This was just as well- once Zahra started a wee, it was very tough for her to stop.
But when the final few trickles were out, she used a steady hand to place the warm cup back on her bedside table and picked off a few more sheets of TP to wipe with. The wee was a rich golden colour: if someone walked in right now, she might be able to convince them it was apple juice. That is, if they didn't smell the air too much. She left the paper she'd wiped herself with next to the glass to be emptied later, once Caspar was back in his room. The difference in her thinking now that she was empty was incredible. It was like she weighed fifty pounds fewer.
Steadying herself, Zahra lifted her mattress from the side with both hands. Now she'd been for a wee she could think straight: her A-level maths exam was in under two hours. The only one she cared about, the only one she actually needed to do well in to get into university. Today was not a good day to have an accident. With that in mind, Zahra was going to have to take drastic measures. Under her bed sat nothing but a small, unmarked cardboard box. Resting the bottom of her mattress atop her head, she looked down shakily and opened it. Inside were eight soft, white parcels.
Nappies.
Diapers. The sight of them made her feel a tiny bit ill. She'd bought the nappies in secret over a year ago- twelve of them in all. Since then, Zahra had dug one out every time a day came when she knew she couldn't take any risks with her dodgy bladder. Deep down, she knew today was one of those days.
Still totally naked, Zahra sighed, picked out a nappy close to the top of the pile and started to put it on. |
This is a story I've had mulling about in my brain for a while in various iterations. This first chapter is just to set the scene, so not much desperation here. The rest of the story..... well, the tags say it all.
Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 1
'Why won't this damn potion thicken up?' Harry thought, stirring his cauldron slowly. 'I followed all of the directions exactly as Snape wrote on the board!'
Sweating slightly, he looked at Hermione's potion next to him. It was the exact same color, though her's had thickened to the consistency of ketchup while his was still as runny as water. Slowly adding in the final six porcupine quills, he prayed for a miracle. If he was successful, this would be the first potion he'd made all year that hadn't been an abject failure. If he was honest, with the color being correct, he still held out hope for at least and A this time rather than the T he had been getting on every potion this year.
Looking in dismay at his potion, he was saddened to see that nothing had changed of the consistency. If anything, it looked almost more thin than before. Sighing, Harry turned off the flame under the cauldron. It was supposed to be a simple hair dye potion, but he doubted it would work in the current consistency.
"Bottle and label your potions," Snape said harshly, sneering at the Gryffindor side of the room. "Except you, Longbottom. Just get rid of that monstrosity, you idiotic child. Are you colorblind? Mustard yellow is not sky blue."
Harry sighed once more, bottling his potion and quickly labeling it. Grabbing a second vial, he quickly bottled the last of it and slipped the vial into his rucksack. Maybe Hermione could tell him what he had done wrong after class? The sooner he could get out of this class, the better. If only potions wasn't a required class to become an Auror, he wouldn't be worried about it. When would an Auror need to know how to make potions anyway?
Snape huffed slightly as he looked at the potion Harry placed in front of him. Obviously he was expecting a different color or something more obvious to nitpick the boy over. He didn't have time to, however, as Harry was not the only one turning in his potion at that time.
'Would it even work being this thin?' Harry thought, packing the rest of his belongings up. 'Maybe it's just a variant on the recipe? I kind of want to try it to make sure it does work.'
Glancing once more at the vial he had tucked into his pack, he waited until the other students had turned in their assignments. It was just hair dye, nothing more or less. The way it was supposed to work was it would change your hair once into the color of your choice. The color would then last for a month without fading then change back to your natural color.
Harry had been wondering what he would look like if he had gotten his mother's hair rather than his father's. It was a simple thing, but he doubted that he would be able to get the right shade using only muggle hair dye. He really hoped he had gotten a variant of the potion right.
Leaving the potions classroom, he was rather disheartened when Hermione rushed off without saying so much as a goodbye. Ron and her had been fighting for a few days now and she had been strategically trying to avoid them both. So much for her looking over the potion to make sure he had done it right!
"Girls," Ron muttered as the walked out of the dungeons. "I didn't even say anything!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, you asked why she didn't put the same effort into other parts of her life as she did studying."
"All I wanted to know was why she didn't ever try to fix her hair!"
"That's obviously not how she took it!" Harry said, exasperatedly.
"She was the one complaining about it!"
Harry sighed once more then dropped the topic. Ron could be so dense sometimes. He was notorious for putting his foot in his mouth.
"Did you nick some of your potion?" Ron asked after a minute.
"Yeah," Harry said, looking around suspiciously. "I don't think I did it right though, it's more thin than it should be."
"You still on about having red hair then?" Ron grinned. If it worked, Harry would look like another member of the Weasleys. It would be hilarious for the Gryffindors to have yet another red-head at the table.
"I just want to see what I'd look like," Harry said, blushing slightly.
"I think you should try it anyways!" Ron said, enthusiastically. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Harry nodded, smiling. It was just hair dye. He was worried it could permanently change his hair color, but maybe if he took just a small dose he could see if it worked at all. If he did it right, a small dose would only tint his hair slightly and only for a few days.
What could possibly go wrong?
------------------------------
"Alright, you ready to do this?" Ron said excitedly as the entered the dorm.
The decision had been made to wait until after dinner to try out the potion. Harry didn't want to try it in the middle of the day and risk missing classes if it went horribly wrong. Besides, if he took it during classes, he wouldn't be able to check it in the mirror to see if it was changing progressively. The last thing he wanted was to go completely blonde like Malfoy! Not only that, but it was Friday and he would now have all weekend to figure out how to fix any issues which may have arisen.
It was a perfect plan.
Fishing out the spoon he had nicked from the Great Hall for this purpose, Harry poured himself a spoonful and swallowed it down. He focused on his mother's hair, hoping that his hair would at least gain some of the red color she was known for. If it worked, he would only have to wait a few minutes for the potion to take effect.
He and Ron sat there for nearly half an hour waiting.
"Hate to break it to you, mate, but I don't think it worked," Ron said, sounding rather disappointed.
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Oh well. I'll just have to get Hermione to brew me some."
"You don't feel any different do you?" Ron said, now worried about the potential consequences of taking an untested potion.
"No, I feel fine," Harry said, yawning. "Just tired, but Katie damn near killed us in Quidditch practice today, so I don't think it's related to the potion."
Ron nodded. He, too, was absurdly sore and tired for the fifth time that week. Katie had taken up the mantle of Quidditch Captain quite well once Oliver left. Unfortunately for the team, this meant long, grueling practice sessions as they wanted to continue to better themselves as well as integrate new team members.
"I'm utterly wiped, too," Ron said, mimicking Harry's yawn.
"You going to go to bed then?" Harry asked, pulling out his transfiguration book. There was an essay due in a few days and he wanted to get it done soon in case Katie decided to increase the length of practices more than what she already had.
Ron nodded and collapsed rather comically into bed, barely managing to take off his uniform before sleep overtook him.
Harry chuckled at the sight of his friend laying half on the bed before turning back to his book. The properties of advanced transfiguration of matter from one state to another was a rough topic to slog through, but he wanted to get this chapter done before bed. If anything, it would put him in the mood to sleep anyways.
He was just finishing the chapter when he realized he really needed to use the loo. It was also getting quite late, so he took this as his cue to call it quits. He needed to get ready for bed anyways; he had never been able to fall asleep as quickly or easily as Ron.
Standing up from his bed, Harry was surprised at how badly he needed to pee. He hadn't been studying for that long, had he? Squeezing himself slightly, he walked as quickly as he dared to the loo, wincing as he walked down the stairs and felt the liquid slosh around in his bladder.
Reaching the nearest urinal, he quickly unzipped and barely managed to whip his member out before urine began jetting out almost uncontrollably. That would be the last time he drank so much pumpkin juice at dinner? Or maybe it was the new tea the house elves had put out?
'Yeah, that was probably it,' Harry thought, washing his hands and yawning. 'The tea.'
He went back up to the dorm and changed into his nightclothes, ready to climb into bed as soon as possible. Climbing under the covers and putting his glasses on the nightstand, he closed his eyes and quickly drifted off into a dreamland filled with red-heads and leaky taps. |
I'm glad you are enjoying this! I thoroughly enjoy reading reviews. I have some ideas for how I want this story to go, but if there is anything in particular that you would like to see in this, just let me know! In the mean time, enjoy!
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Chapter Two
Harry woke the next morning feeling completely unrested. He had had a rough night. He had needed to get up and use the loo at least three times throughout the night and each time he felt as though he wouldn’t make it. One of the times, he had to pause mid dash to squeeze his legs together because he was beginning to leak already.
And waking up this morning, he was rather dismayed to find he needed to go just as desperately as he had the other times.
‘How is this even possible,” Harry said, crossing his legs as his bladder violently protested the movement. ‘I just went like 2 hours ago!’
He didn’t have much time to concern himself with the timing of his bladder, however, as he needed to go NOW. Throwing his feet off the bed, he padded as fast as he could to the loo and peed for what felt like the millionth time. His pee didn’t smell or burn, so he knew it wasn’t a bladder infection. So what was going on?
“Morning, Harry,” Ron said, having woken up and followed the smaller boy into the loo.
“Morning, Ron,” Harry said, finishing up and tucking himself away. “Hey, did you have any of the new tea last night?”
“No, I’m not a big fan of fruity teas,” Ron said, stretching. “Neville did though. Why?”
Harry couldn’t help but feel dismayed. Neville was still sleeping in the dorm and he hadn’t heard the boy getting up and down to the toilet nearly as frequently as he had been.
“Nothing,” Harry said, trying not to blush. He was not going to admit this issue to his friend. Not a chance in hell. Nope.
Ron shrugged as he washed his hands. “You going to the game today?”
“How could I miss it!” Harry said, excitedly. Today was the Slytherin v. Ravenclaw game. Both houses were extremely good players and routinely had long games simply due to the skill of them both. It was also a good opportunity to watch the teams plays and strategize how to beat them.
“Come on, lets get some breakfast!” Ron said, rubbing his stomach. “I’m starving!”
Harry snorted lightly and followed his friend back up to the dorm. Ron was always hungry and his appetite was beginning to garner quite a following with the younger years as they found it interesting to see how much he could actually shovel into his mouth.
Quickly throwing on a simple shirt and jeans, Harry was dismayed to feel as though his bladder was filling again. It wasn’t bad yet, but he definitely could feel the growing pressure. He probably could make it through breakfast without having to go again.
“Alright, lets go!” Harry said, urging Ron towards the door.
The walk to the Great Hall seemed to stretch on for much longer than usual to Harry. Every twist and turn in the building reminded him of those dreams where you needed to pee but the toilet was just a bit too far away. It seemed almost surreal. As though he were moving through molasses.
“You ok?” Ron said, looking at his slightly dazed friend.
“Yeah,” Harry said, shaking himself slightly. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Really? I slept like a log!”
“I noticed,” Harry said, laughing slightly and tensing his lower abdomen as his bladder reminded him of how full he was becoming. What on Earth was going on? He was now beginning to doubt his earlier statement of not needing to go until after breakfast. At this rate, he’d definitely have to leave the table at some point.
“Did… did you have anymore… you know?” Ron said, suddenly serious. The last time Harry looked as tired as he did was when he had been having nightmares/visions of Voldemort and hadn’t been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time.
Harry shook his head. “No, just wasn’t feeling very good last night for some reason.”
Ron shook his head in understanding. He’d had nights like that as well, where he just felt overwhelmed or sore and just couldn’t get to sleep. Maybe Katie had been pushing them a bit too hard. They did have OWLS this year, after all.
“Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?” he asked, concerned as he noticed Harry wince slightly.
“No, I’ll be fine,” Harry said, pausing as they neared the Great Hall. He wasn’t going to make it through breakfast without a pit stop. “I’ll meet you in there in a minute.”
“You ok?”
“I’m fine. I just need to use the loo,” Harry said, struggling to hold back the urge to cross his legs. Just the walk down from the Common Room to the Great Hall and he already felt full to bursting.
“Ok,” Ron said, eyeing his friend up slightly before turning and heading into the hall for breakfast.
Once Ron had turned, Harry strode as quickly as he could to the loo. He couldn’t believe it. He had gone less than fifteen minutes ago, how had he managed to fill up again so quickly? And to the point his whole body felt as though it were quivering for release. If it wasn’t the tea, then what was it that was causing this?
He tried to think of a reason for why this was happening, but could hardly focus as his bladder continued to send frequent signals to his brain warning of impending release.
‘Come on, come on comeoncomeon,’ Harry thought to himself as he squirmed in front of the urinal as he struggled to undo his jeans zipper. There! Finally! The zipper slid down just as a large spurt of urine made its way out into his underwear.
‘Dammit!’ he thought, whipping himself out and pointing at the urinal. ‘Thank Merlin I made it!’
Sighing with relief, he peed for nearly thirty seconds. His bladder ached in relief as the act of holding had made it over stretched. Harry rubbed his hand over his lower stomach as though that would help the ache and was surprised when he pressed on where his bladder was and another small shot of urine came out. Standing there for another few minutes, he pressed on it again and was surprised to find a rather large amount of urine came out despite him feeling empty.
‘What the..?’ Harry thought, squeezing with all his might to make sure as much came out as he could manage. He did not want to have to use the toilet as frequently today as last night. Besides, it would be rather hard to explain why he kept leaving the Quidditch game today to relieve himself.
Pushing on himself once more to make sure he was well and truly empty, he tucked himself back into his now slightly damp pants. Thankfully, there was no obvious wet spot on the jeans themselves, but it was quite concerning how quickly he had gone from not needing to pee to desperate.
Heading back to the Great Hall, Harry quickly found Ron (who was already stuffing his face) and sat down and began filling his plate. This morning, the elves had chosen to provide them with the elements of a traditional fry-up for breakfast. The sausages, tomatoes, and toast seemed to be the most appetizing, but Harry’s biggest concern wasn’t so much the food.
He was thirsty. His mouth felt as though he had swallowed sawdust. All of the peeing he had been doing was rapidly drying him out.
Maybe this was the sign he was done with the absurd desperation?
Grabbing a glass and filling it nearly to the brim with orange juice, Harry quickly drained it not once but twice before turning to the apple juice and doing the same. He was so thirsty! It wasn’t until he had finished his fourth cup of juice that he began to no longer feel as though his throat were full of dust.
“Geez, Harry,” Ron said around a rasher of bacon. “Thirsty?”
Harry just nodded as he finished off yet another glass of juice before finally beginning to dig into his food. His stomach was still not too used to having large amounts of food in it, a sad throwback to this summer where the Dursley’s were restricting his food intake yet again. Water was easy enough to come by as he could just drink from the hose, but food was restricted heavily.
“Yeah,” Harry said finally, lying through his teeth. “Making up for practice yesterday.”
“Ah,” Ron nodded. “I was thirsty too, but I guess Katie did keep running you on more strenuous drills.”
“What about my drills?” Katie said, sitting next to the boys and grabbing a few slices of bacon for herself.
“You keep running us ragged, but we’re showing progress,” Harry said diplomatically with a smile.
Katie huffed exasperatedly. “Well I would hope so! Are you both planning to go to the game today?”
Both Ron and Harry nodded, though Harry was already wondering how much of the game he would actually see if his bladder didn’t stop acting up. With the amount of liquid he had just consumed, he doubted he would have been able to make it through a full game without needing a break anyways, but with the way his bladder had been today, he was beginning to wonder if he would even be able to make it to the game at all. He had been so thirsty though!
Mentally taking stock of the situation, he was rather dismayed to find his bladder already felt nearly half full and was filling rapidly. It was starting to get slightly uncomfortable, but not bad enough to need to go immediately.
“Good, good,” Katie said before turning back to her other friends.
“Who do you think is going to win?” Ron asked, shovelling the last of his toast in his mouth and taking a swig of his juice.
“I’d bet on Slytherin, to be honest,” Harry said, crossing his legs unconsciously. “Malfoy is a good seeker and I think O’Byrne is probably the strongest keeper they’ve had in a while. You?”
Ron slowly sipped on his juice, ignoring the fact Harry tightened how crossed his legs were at the sight.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I think you’re right,” He finally said, setting his now empty glass down. “Ready to go?”
Harry nodded, uncrossing his legs and taking stock of his bladder. In the few minutes they had been talking, it had continued to fill and was now over three quarters full. He couldn’t believe it. Less than an hour and he had already needed to pee twice. And not even a little bit.
Making their way out of the Great Hall, Harry looked longingly at the loo. He really should go again, but he didn’t want to admit to Ron how badly he needed to go so soon after having just gone. He could make it back to the dorms. He was sure of it. They were only up seven flights of stairs.
His bladder protested weakly the idea of going up that many flights.
Ron babbled on about how ready he was for the second game of the year and how he really hoped Ravenclaw would win. Harry ignored him in favor of focussing on his bladder. They were now on the second floor and making their way to the third, he could do this. It was only a few more flights, then he could sneak into the loo and….
A spurt of urine shot out before he had a chance to react.
He wasn’t going to make it. It was too far.
“Ron,” Harry said, stopping and clamping his legs together, bobbing in an effort to keep the pee in his bladder.
“...but Ravenclaw is more diverse in their tactics, see. They are more adaptable in how they play, making it harder to predict what they are going to do next,” Ron continued to prattle on.
“Ron!” Harry said, jamming his hands into his crotch and attempting to keep up with his friend. “Stop!”
“What’s wrong?” Ron said, looking at the state of his friend who was now having to put a hand into his pants to try and add pressure to the area.
“I need to get to a loo, right now!” Harry said, frantically.
“You just went before breakfast,” Ron said, looking rather confused.
“I don’t care, I need to go NOW!” Harry said frantically as another dribble made its way out.
“Well go then!” Ron said, motioning in the direction of the nearest toilet.
Harry made a mad dash towards the toilet, hoping his bladder would last just a moment longer. Dribbles were coming more and more frequently as his bladder continued to try and fill beyond its current capacity. He felt as though he were several months pregnant with the liquid.
Skidding into the second floor toilets Harry was dismayed when he felt his bladder beginning to let go.
“No nononononono!” Harry said, frantically trying to undo his jeans. “Please no!”
His bladder continued to spurt, leaving a softball sized patch of wet on the front of his jeans. Slamming his legs together, he finally got the zip undone and pulled out his penis as fast as he could. But it wasn’t fast enough. As soon as he freed it from the confines of his pants, his bladder spasmed in protest to the filling it was undergoing causing him to shoot urine onto the wall and floor around the urinal. Finally getting it aimed appropriately, Harry gasped in relief as his bladder finally was allowed to empty.
“Damn, Harry,” Ron said from the door. “You really had to go!”
Harry moaned in response as his bladder continued to empty. It felt so good to finally pee. In fact, it felt more than good. The relief he felt bordered on orgasmic.
Sighing with relief when he finally finished, Harry tucked himself away and looked at his jeans in dismay. They weren’t obviously wet, but they were definitely not dry. And his pants were rather sodden.
“Are you ok?” Ron asked as Harry made his way to the sink with rather weak knees.
“I… I don’t know,” Harry admitted finally. “I hardly slept last night because I kept having to get up and pee and this is the fourth time this morning I’ve had to go and every time has been really really desperate.”
“Do you feel sick?” Ron asked, looking concerned.
“No, I just feel like I constantly need to pee,” Harry said, leading his friend out of the bathroom and towards the next flight of stairs. Maybe this time they’d make it all the way up to Gryffindor?
“Do you think you were cursed or something?” Ron asked, continuing to look concerned.
“I don’t know!” Harry said exasperatedly as they climbed to the third floor. The chafing from his wet jeans already beginning to get to him. “It only started last night right after I took … the potion!”
“You think the potion did this to you?” Ron asked.
“I can’t think of anything else that would have done this to me!” Harry griped as they continued on up the stairs. “I thought it wasn’t going to work right, but I didn’t think that this would be the outcome!”
“Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing? It’d probably be a good idea.”
“Yeah, but let's get the potion first. I still have some left in my bag and Madam Pomfrey may need a sample of it to find the antidote.”
Ron nodded and looked at his friend in concern. While he hated that Harry had obviously been struggling with his bladder all morning, he couldn’t help but wonder what it felt like to be that desperate. Ever since he was young, Ron had noticed how much more pleasurable it was to do...anything with a full bladder. He would occasionally try to see how long he could go before needing to empty himself and was pleased when he found he could easily go all day without needing to go.
The downside to this was it took much longer for him to actually feel as though he were full or even remotely filling up. Maybe he could convince Harry to let him keep some of the potion to … experiment with.
Merlin, that sounded like something Hermione would say.
They were nearly at the portrait of the Fat Lady when Harry had to pause once more and shove his hands in his groin.
“Again?” Ron asked, curious and mildly aroused at the sight of his friend’s obvious desperation. How he wished that were him.
“Yeah,” Harry whimpered, dancing in place slightly as his bladder protested his movement any further down the corridor. “Oh, god. I don’t know if I can make it!”
“You can make it, come on Harry!” Ron said, urging his friend along, trying to ignore his own rather swollen cock.
Limping forward as he attempted to continue squeezing his thighs together and walk at the same time, Harry finally made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady only to find her missing from her frame. Panic over took his brain as he looked around desperately for the portrait.
Squirming violently, Harry turned his eyes to a portrait of a garden party which was right next to the Fat Lady’s frame. There she was, eating and carrying on with the other members of the party in the frame.
“Madam! Please!” Harry said, begging her to come back to her frame as he felt his sphincters begin to fail and dribbles of urine make their way down his leg. Why did he have to drink so much juice at breakfast!
“One moment dear!” She said before turning back to her friends and laughing at one of their jokes.
“NOW!” Harry nearly screamed as a rather large rivulet of urine ran down his leg.
“How rude!” the Fat Lady huffed as she re-entered her portrait. “Password?”
“Felidae!” Harry moaned as another spurt of urine ran down his leg. These jeans were done for.
Ron came behind him and helped him into the Common Room where, once again, he had to stop and grab himself.
“Please!” Harry begged as his bladder throbbed and pulsated as it continued to refill and make up for what he had lost in his spurts.
Slowly, he made his way to the toilets, pleading openly with his bladder to last just a few more seconds. He made it just inside the toilets when the sound of running water of a shower being used did him in. Every last muscle in his bladder gave up the fight and, slowly at first, he began to lose control.
Desperately, he dove for the urinals only to find that the zipper he had been struggling with all morning was finally well and truly stuck. Frantically he pulled his jeans down, not caring in the slightest that Ron was standing right behind him. There was really no point to pulling the pants off, however, as his bladder continued to empty despite his valiant attempts to stop it. Leaning forward and aiming his still peeing member at the urinal, Harry let out a massive sigh of relief. He hadn’t made it, not by a long shot, but he at least was getting relief, and it felt so good.
“Wow, Harry, you still going?” Ron said as he had ran up to the dorm room to grab a fresh pair of trousers and pants for his friend when Harry had first made it into the loo.
Harry just nodded, eyes rolling back in his head slightly as the relief washed over him. This was fantastic. As frustrated as he was at the situation, he couldn’t help but wonder why he had never done this before.
Finally feeling empty, Harry quickly pulled the fresh clothes on that Ron had brought for him.
“Did you grab the potion while you were up there?” Harry asked.
“Right here,” Ron said, pulling out the half empty vial. “You good to go down to the Hospital Wing?”
Harry nodded, though he doubted he would be able to make it there without stopping at least once. He honestly doubted he could make it without two stops in between. If it weren’t for the fact that he was having to go as frequently as he was, Harry didn’t think he would have a problem with the level of desperation he was consistently experiencing. It was rather nice, after all.
Maybe he could get Madam Pomfrey to just tone it down a bit? |
Chapter 3
Harry was right in his assumption that he would need to go several times on the walk down to the Hospital Wing. He needed to go not once, not twice, but three times on the walk down, and still he felt the urge to pee as soon as they entered the Hospital Wing.
It hadn’t been entirely necessary for him to go that many times, but every time they came upon a loo, he decided to take advantage of the situation. And his bladder thanked him dearly for it as he noticed it was beginning to become rather sore from holding for so long.
“I’ll be right back,” Harry said, rushing for the loo in the Hospital Wing. The walk between the last toilet and the infirmary was the longest stretch of all of the distance and he was quite desperate by the time they got there. It wasn’t to the point of leaking, but if he waited much longer, it could be.
Ron watched in concern as his friend raced for the loo yet again. If he was going to experiment with the portion of the potion he had stolen while Harry was using the toilet in the dorms, he would have to be careful. Maybe start out with just a drop or so rather than a spoonful? That sounded like a good plan.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Weasley?” Madame Pomfrey asked as she came out of her office and into the main room of the infirmary.
“It’s not me, it’s Harry,” Ron said, motioning towards the toilet doors. A flush could be heard from the other side.
“Has he been vomiting?” the matron asked.
“No, he took a potion last night that was supposed to dye his hair, but it didn’t work,” Ron started as Harry came out of the loo.
“I don’t see how that warrants a visit here.” Madame Pomfrey scoffed.
“I’ve been needing to use the loo a lot since, ma’am,” Harry said, politely. “I had to pee every couple of hours last night and today I’ve gone maybe eight times since seven o’clock this morning.”
Madam Pomfrey looked at him rather skeptically before asking more questions.
“Are you feeling as though you are emptying your bladder fully?” she asked, motioning for him to sit on one of the beds.
“I believe so,” Harry said as he sat down, wincing as his waistband dug into his stomach. He may have just gone, but he could tell he would be needing to go again sooner than previous times due to the tightness of his trousers.
“Are you urinating a large amount or a small amount each time?”
“Large,” Harry said, blushing as he remembered the state of his jeans from earlier.
“Does your urine smell or burn when you urinate?” Madame Pomfrey asked, jotting down notes as they spoke.
“No, ma’am. It hardly smells at all,” Harry said honestly. It was as though he kept peeing straight water as there was very little tint to the urine which was coming out of him. Urine which he was already feeling building back up in his bladder.
“And have you had any accidents since this started?”
“Yes ma’am,” Harry blushed an even deeper red. “I couldn’t make it to the toilet in time.”
Sighing, Madame Pomfrey put down her notes. She had a sneaking suspicion as to what had happened, but she needed to be sure. If she was correct, poor Mr. Potter was going to be in for one hell of a week.
“You didn’t happen to bring in a sample of the potion, did you?” she asked, hopeful she was wrong.
“Yeah,” Ron said, pulling the half-full vial out of his pocket.
Harry frowned, he didn’t think he had taken that much of the potion! He was sure the vial was still nearly completely full after he took the spoonful last night.
“Oh dear!” Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, her fears verified. “How much did you take?!”
“Only a spoonful!” Harry said, trying to rearrange the tight waistband on his stomach in a way that would relieve some of the building pressure.
“Sorry,” Ron interjected, quickly thinking up a lie to cover his theft. “I spilled a little of it when I grabbed it before coming here.”
Madame Pomfrey nodded and quickly tucked the potion away in her desk drawer, which she promptly locked.
“Do you know what it was that you accidentally made?” she asked once the potion was secure.
Both boys shook their heads. Harry hoped this lecture wouldn’t last too long as he was really starting to feel his now much more squashed bladder. Crossing his legs, he couldn’t help but bounce his foot in an effort to stave off the desperation feeling.
“I believe, Mr. Potter, that you missed a step in your brewing process,” Madame Pomfrey said. “It was a small step, but did you dust off your bicorn horn before you began to chop it into pieces?”
“I was supposed to do that?” Harry said in shock. He had seen Hermione quickly shaking off the bicorn horn before beginning to work with it, but he thought it was because she just didn’t enjoy the feeling of the dust on her fingers.
“Yes, Mr. Potter. Also, had you purchased new ingredients before school this year?”
“No, but I wasn’t out of some of the dry ingredients yet.”
“Oh, Harry,” the matron said, hanging her head slightly. “Your bicorn horn went bad and was beginning to ferment. Add the dust to the equation and you didn’t create a hair dye, but rather a very strong diuretic.”
“Oh,” was all he could say as he shifted his legs around. What he really wanted to do was undo his trouser button, but he didn’t want it to seem obvious.
“Yes, ‘oh!’” Madame Pomfrey continued berating him. “The diuretic you made is not only extremely strong, it's quite long lasting and the antidote takes over a month to brew. How much did you say you took again?”
“Just a teaspoon full,” Harry said, blushing in humiliation.
“With that amount, you’ll be peeing like this for a week if not two,” she said, frowning.
“Can you fix it?” Harry asked, eyes widening as he continued to shift around.
“Unfortunately, no. We don’t keep the antidote in our standard stores. There are a few things I can give you to help, but I don’t think you’ll like any of them.”
Harry doubted that, but didn’t say anything. At this point he was willing to try anything. Anything to not wet himself anymore. Anything to lessen the desperation. Anything to get out of this conversation so he could use the toilet again. All this talk of pee was reminding his bladder of the fluid inside it.
Merlin, he had to pee.
“Before I do anything, I need to know what your maximum capacity is. Do you know how much you are normally able to hold before you cannot hold any longer?”
Harry shook his head.
“No-oh!” he gasped as his bladder lightly spasmed. Not now! Please not now!
“Do you need to use the loo again?” Madame Pomfrey asked, noting how his squirming had increased.
“Ye-es!” Harry whimpered, locking his ankles and shoving his hands in his crotch in a desperate bid to salvage his pants.
“On a scale of zero to ten, how full do you feel right now?” she asked.
“Ten!” Harry gasped.
“Please void in this then,” the matron said, handing him a large jug with measurements on the side.
Not caring Ron was watching or that Madame Pomfrey was watching as well, Harry frantically dug his now-leaking penis out of his pants and jammed it into the jug. He sighed in relief as he began to fill the jug, worrying as he did so that he may overflow it.
“I’m going to scan your bladder quickly to make sure you are fully empty,” Madame Pomfrey said, whipping out her wand and scanning his lower abdomen. “Good, good. Only a few milliliters left. You really have quite an impressive holding capacity, Harry.”
Harry blushed and looked at the jug filled with his urine. He was honestly surprised by the amount in the jug. No wonder he had needed to go so badly! There was over three quarters of a liter in there!
Ron, too, was impressed. He was fairly certain his holding capacity was greater than Harry’s, but he would have to wait and measure his at a later time.
“So what can you do to help me until this potion wears off?” Harry asked. Any relief would be better than no relief at this point.
“There are a few options. First, I can make it so your bladder is much more pliable. You’ll be able to hold for a longer period of time, but when you go your stream will be much weaker and you’ll need longer to finish voiding and when you have to go, you have to go. You’ll also need to apply some charms to your trousers to make sure they can stretch over your stomach. Second, I can make it so your sphincters are stronger and can hold back the flood of urine, but this will make it more difficult for you to start voiding. You also will feel extremely desperate. The third option is for you to wear diapers which are charmed to get rid of any mess you make in them. These, however, will be quite bulky and obvious.”
Harry nodded, mulling over the options in his head. She was right, no option was ideal. Each of them had some rather … interesting consequences he wished to explore.
“Could these be combined?” Harry asked, noting Ron’s eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.
“I suppose so, though I wouldn’t recommend it,” Madame Pomfrey said.
“What if I wanted to do just the spells,” Harry asked impulsively. The combination would definitely allow him to attend classes and Quidditch practice.
“Your bladder would fill to three times its normal size before you were desperate, the muscles which prevent your bladder from emptying may not allow it to empty fully, and when you needed to go you may not be able to control where you go so you may have to wear the diaper anyways.”
“That’s fine,” Harry said, looking longingly at the jug of urine. He wished she would spell it away so he could go again. His bladder was so irritated it was wanting to empty again.
“Do not make this decision lightly, Mr. Potter,” Madame Pomfrey admonished. “The spells will last for a week and at the rate you are producing urine, you’ll still have to go quite frequently, though likely only once an hour.”
Harry nodded. That didn’t sound too bad. He’d keep the desperation, the frequency of peeing would decrease, and he could actually have a rather normal week rather than having to pee every five minutes!
Standing, Harry sighed as the waistband was no longer digging into his bladder. He could wait a few more minutes so long as he remained upright rather than sitting down.
“I’m ready for them,” Harry said, shifting his weight.
“If you say so,” Madame Pomfrey looked at him skeptically.
Harry looked at Ron briefly for reassurance before almost nodding, then stopping himself.
“Actually, can I pee first?”
Edited August 29, 2020 by JungleMoon
(see edit history) |
Ask and ye shall receive! Sorry, updates will come in rather sporatically as I have a job with a really weird schedule. Reviews keep me motivated to continue though!
As always, if there is something you wish to see in the story, let me know. I don't have anything overly planned with this story, so I can easily work in reader requests.
Enjoy!
Chapter 4
The spells were a damned miracle in Harry’s eyes. Walking out of the Hospital Wing, he sighed with relief as he knew he could make it back up to the dorms without needing to run to the toilet. He never thought he would have to celebrate such a little thing as not having to go to the toilet, but here he was.
Having opted for both spells, Harry was rather surprised at how little he noticed them. True, he noticed a small bulge in his stomach beginning to form by the time he made it back to the dorms, but it wasn’t overly large or obtrusive. What he was more concerned about was how the sphincter strengthening spell would affect him. He had assumed that the spell would give him a cramping sensation, but was pleasantly surprised to find he couldn’t tell if it was working or not.
Making it to the Quidditch match was a definite possibility now.
“You ok, mate?” Ron asked as they climbed the stairs to the boy’s dormitories.
“Yeah,” Harry said, rubbing the small paunch he was developing. “It’s weird, Madame Pomfrey made such a big deal out of how the spells might affect me, but I haven’t felt anything yet.”
“Your stomach is looking a little bigger there,” Ron said, looking furtively at his friend’s lower abdomen.
“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Harry said, looking at himself in the mirror. “My trousers are getting a bit tighter, but nothing too bad.”
Ron couldn’t help but feel jealous. Why did everything good always happen to Harry? He wished he could get his bladder to be that size. He wished he could feel that same urgency. Maybe he could try the potion tonight? Just a drop ought to do it. In the meantime, he could enjoy watching Harry’s growing urgency.
“Might want to apply those resizing charms soon,” he said, continuing to eye up Harry’s stomach. “Best get it done before they get too tight.”
Harry nodded. He had been hoping Ron would forget about those spells, honestly. It was rather… nice… to feel the added pressure on his bladder. He could play around with it later, maybe with his pajama pants? They had a bit of stretch to them, but if overstretched would add additional pressure to the situation.
A quick flick of his wand and the trousers loosened significantly around his waist as they resized to fit his considerably larger abdomen. The jolt of the change in pressure made Harry inadvertently cross his legs as though he needed to go. He did feel somewhat like he needed to, but nothing like what he had been feeling throughout the morning.
“You sure you’re ok?” Ron asked, not having missed his friend’s squirm.
“Yeah,” Harry said, straightening back up. “Pressure change. I do want to try to pee though. I feel about as full as I would if I would need to go normally.”
“Alright,” Ron said. “I’m going to grab my transfiguration book and get started on that essay.”
“Alright, I’ll join you in a minute,” Harry said, calmly walking to the toilet.
Strange how little time it took to realize how much you took a normal bladder for granted. Before today, Harry never had thought about how often he had to pee, he would just go and be done with it. Now, however, it felt like his entire life revolved around the porcelain god and how soon he could make it. And it hadn’t even been twelve hours since he took that potion!
Standing in front of the urinal, Harry undid the zip on his trousers and pulled himself out calmly as ever. It was nice to not feel utterly desperate while standing in front of the loo. Harry took aim and waited for the flow to begin.
And waited.
And waited.
The urge to pee was there, but he couldn’t get the stream started. The longer he stood there, the more his bladder tried to contract down but it felt much weaker than before. And he felt as though something were blocking his bladder from emptying.
Harry stood there for another few minutes before calling it quits. He managed to get out a few drops, but he couldn’t pee. He felt more desperate for a wee now than he had before going in, but hadn’t managed to actually do anything. If anything, the few drops he did manage to get out made the entire thing feel worse.
Madame Pomfrey hadn’t been lying. The combination of spells was making it so he couldn’t empty his bladder easily, but he could hold for a lot longer.
Rubbing his increasingly large bladder, Harry sighed before tucking himself away. There was still several hours before the match, hopefully he would get this figured out before then.
Walking back to the dorm, Harry was rather shocked at the sensation his bladder was giving him. It was as though he could physically feel the extra water sloshing about. If it hadn’t been for the spells, he would have likely gone to the loo at least four times by now. While it wasn’t likely it was actually doing anything to him, Harry felt as though the extra weight of the urine building in his bladder was making him slightly off balance.
“Right then,” Ron said, without looking up as he rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a spare bit of parchment and his inkwell. “This essay is going to be rubbish, I can feel it already.”
Harry grabbed his backpack from the floor where Ron had dropped it by the table they were studying at and winced as his bladder reminded him of his failed attempt to pee. He wasn’t dying for the loo yet, but he certainly wished to empty his bladder soon.
‘You’re going to feel desperate long before you are able to go,’ Madame Pomfrey had warned as she applied the spells.
She wasn’t kidding.
Pulling out his transfiguration book and turning to the required chapter, Harry found himself bouncing his leg slightly in an effort to try and quell the urge to get up and run back to the toilet. He knew that that would make no difference in the urgency he was feeling at the time, in fact it might make the urge worse if his previous attempt was anything to go off of.
“Um, Harry?” Ron said, having finally looked up from his bag. “Did you pee? Your stomach looks larger than before you went to the loo.”
“I know,” Harry signed. “I tried, but I couldn’t manage to get more than a few drops.”
“You still need to go?” Ron asked, skeptical.
“Yeah,” Harry said, recrossing his legs. “Madame Pomfrey did warn me that might happen. She said…”
“You’re still going to be going a lot, Mr. Potter,” Ron said mockingly. “I know, Harry. I was there.”
Harry laughed lightly at Ron’s good natured mocking before turning his attention back to the essay. He knew ‘Mione would have already been done with it, but she had taken to hiding her essays in the girls dorms so the boy’s wouldn’t be able to copy it. It wasn’t that they ‘copied’ it, per se. More like they gained inspiration from it.
Lots of inspiration.
Sighing, Harry started working on the essay. It was slow going, however, as the subject manner was difficult and trying to find enough words to fill the length requirement was nearly as hard. The continuously increasing size of his bladder was making it even more difficult to get anything done as he constantly had to keep readjusting how he was sitting so as to give his stomach more room to expand.
Less than a quarter of the way through the essay, Harry gave up. He couldn’t focus with his bladder this full. He needed to go, now!
Standing up from where he had been sitting, Harry accidentally bumped the edge of the table with his now greatly protruding stomach sending waves of desperation rocketing through him. A small spurt of urine exited his bladder unbidden and wet his pants slightly. Not enough to leak through, but enough to send him scurrying to the loo.
“Hey!” Ron said as the table jerked and he nearly spilled his ink on his partially completed essay.
“Sorry, mate,” Harry said as he waddled to the loo, looking several months pregnant. “I gotta go.”
Ron grunted in response before turning back to his essay. He really needed to focus on getting this done. He could focus on Harry’s bathroom woes later.
Harry made it to the urinal which was rapidly becoming his best friend and quickly pulled out his penis from his slightly damp pants.
And waited.
And waited.
‘Come on!’ Harry thought, bearing down slightly in an effort to push some pee out of his over-wrought bladder. ‘Please!’
It took nearly five minutes for him to finally begin to pee. Five minutes of agony, standing in front of the urinal, squirming, desperately shaking himself, trying anything he could think of to start the stream.
Finally, a dribble started. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, he started to pee.
‘Thank you, Merlin!’ he thought as he tried to add some additional top pressure to his bladder. Nothing he did would speed it up though, and if he added too much pressure, the flow would stop suddenly. And when it would stop, it would take nearly thirty seconds to start again.
Thirty seconds of him bobbing in front of the urinal trying to convince it he wasn't empty and still needed to go.
Finally, nearly ten minutes after starting, he finally felt mostly empty. Comfortably empty. He could still feel there was some left in, but it was far more of a comfortable amount. He no longer looked as though he were a pregnant mother.
The spells were more potent than he thought.
Now that he wasn’t overly full and focusing on his own desperation, he couldn’t help but worry. Madame Pomfrey had said there was a chance he would need diapers at some point to help with his… leaks. He had hoped this wouldn’t actually be the case, but if he continued to leak like what had just happened, he may need them.
“Better?” Ron said, noting the smaller stomach with a touch of dismay.
“Much,” Harry said, sitting down to continue working on his essay. “It hit me so suddenly.”
“You going to make it to the game?” Ron asked, trying to keep his voice down in case anyone else in the dorm was listening.
“I think so,” Harry whispered back. “I just hope I don’t have to go in the middle of the match!” |
Two things: First thank you to all of you who are reading this! I really do appreciate the feedback and suggestions!
I will work some female desperation in! Like I said, I do like suggestions! If you have any particular characters or situations you'd like them to be in, feel free to suggest those as well. Thank you!
Second: Not gonna lie, this is my first time writing full on masturbation... Boyfriend suggested I give it a try, so I thought 'why the hell not.' If something seems off or wrong, please let me know. I'm always open for critiques.
But without further ado:
Chapter 5
The walk out to the Quidditch pitch had never seemed so long in Harry’s school career. All of the students were excitedly talking about the match, frequently jostling into one another as they made their way down the narrow path.
“Harry!” Katie’s voice cut through the crowd. “Good, you made it!”
“Of course I would,” Harry said, grimacing internally. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to convince his bladder to pee before the match. If it wasn’t for the robes he wore, there would be no hiding the fact his stomach was once again beginning to protrude.
“I know you wouldn’t miss it, but, see, I need you to keep some notes on what the seekers do. See if you can find any patterns in how they fly when they see the snitch, ok?” Katie asked, though Harry knew it was not a question. She would thoroughly question him on his notes as well.
“Ok,” Harry said, hoping he would be sitting far enough away from her that he would be able to sneak off when the urge finally got to be too much.
“Ron, you do the same for the keepers,” Katie said. “I want a full report and breakdown on the match next practice. We play Slytherin next and we can’t afford to miss any of their tricks.”
Harry groaned as Katie ran towards the pitch with her other friends. With no time limits to Quidditch matches, there was no telling how long the game would actually go for. If he couldn’t manage to go before the game, he would definitely have to leave or risk peeing himself.
“I’m going to swing by the loo, see if I can’t go before the match starts,” Harry whispered to Ron.
“You sure that’s a good idea? You just tried to go in the castle and just ended up feeling even more desperate,” Ron replied, attempting to keep the grin off of his face. Now that he could focus on it, he was finding Harry’s predicament increasingly arousing. If he could manage to prevent his friend from using the toilet for as long as possible, well, he was certainly in for the most interesting Quidditch match ever.
“I know, I know, but I gotta try!” Harry whimpered as they climbed the last hill to the pitch. “I feel full to bursting!”
“Fine,” Ron lamented, doubting his friend would actually be able to go. “But don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”
Harry rolled his eyes and quickly scampered to the men’s toilet which was outside of the pitch. If he didn’t at least try to go now, he would have to traverse all the way down through the stands and back out here before being able to go. It would be much better if he could empty his bladder here and now.
Half running into the loo, he was thankful to find the entire room empty. Quickly whipping out his member and aiming it at the nearest urinal, he sighed in frustration when nothing happened yet again.
‘Oh, come on!’ he thought, bouncing slightly as the urge increased. ‘Please! Even a little!’
After nearly five minutes of desperately moving his hips, bouncing, and trying to strain, a small stream began. Harry sighed with relief, only to groan when he heard Lee Jordan’s voice projecting the entry of the players onto the field. The weak stream he had managed to produce was still flowing, though stutteringly and acting as though it wanted to stop at any time. Relaxing as best he could, Harry was distraught to realize it wasn’t going any faster. He was going to have to stop the flow and go back to the game.
Rubbing his stomach in frustration, Harry squeezed his sphincters as hard as he could, shutting off the small stream he had going. The waves of desperation that stopping peeing caused left him gasping and locking his knees together and plunging his hands into his crotch. His stomach may have looked slightly smaller, but it still felt as though gravity were trying to pull the whole of his bladder through his pelvis.
Glaring desperately at the urinal he had been standing at, Harry turned around and quickly washed his hands, dancing slightly as the sound of running water made his already irritated bladder contract once more.
Leaving the loo, he slowly started up the long staircase to the seats. He made it nearly to the top when his bladder contracted violently once more. He knew if he went back down to the toilets, nothing would happen, but the idea of continuing on up the stairs was equally unenjoyable. But he had to get there, the match was on and he wouldn’t dare miss the opportunity to gain some intel on the newest Ravenclaw and Slytherin recruits.
Finally reaching the stands, he quickly found Ron and Hermione and made his way over.
“Any luck?” Ron asked, trying to yell over the screaming fans but not be heard at the same time.
Harry shook his head slightly before turning his attention to the match. Or trying to.
Ravenclaw was in the lead by 10 points, with Slytherin already making moves to get their own goal. Suddenly, one of the Ravenclaw Chasers peeled away from their group and dropped low to the ground. The Slytherin Chasers made their move towards the goal when out of nowhere a bludger was hit towards the group causing them to scatter. The Chaser with the Quaffle tried for a goal but missed, allowing the Ravenclaw Keeper to hit the Quaffle down to the low flying Chaser, who was not being guarded due to their odd position. The Ravenclaw Chaser raced along the ground towards the goal posts, underneath the chaos above her, and made it to the goal posts before the Slytherins even knew where the Quaffle had gone.
The crowd erupted into screams and cheers when the Quaffle went into the goal millimeters before the Slytherin Keeper made it to the goal.
“Didja see that?!” Ron exclaimed, jumping up and down and hugging a rather disgruntled but smiling Hermione.
“Ron. Ron. RON!” Hermione laughed, shoving the taller boy off her and knocking him into Harry. “Stop it! I saw!”
“That was amazing! Even the pros don’t do that! How did they come up with that?!” Ron exclaimed.
“They were thinking in three dimensions, Ron,” Hermione laughed. “Other than the Seekers, most Quidditch players only think in two dimensions as though they were playing football on a field, isn’t that right Harry?”
Harry didn’t answer her, however, as he was no longer there. Instead, his cloak lay on the seat, a small wet spot on the back could be barely seen if one looked hard enough.
“Where’d Harry go?” Hermione asked, looking around.
“Probably to the loo,” Ron said truthfully, looking at the wet spot and feeling more aroused than ever. “I’m gonna go check on him.”
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The crowd erupted into screams and cheers when the Quaffle went into the goal millimeters before the Slytherin Keeper made it to the goal.
Harry had jumped up when the Quaffle went in just as everyone else had, but for different reasons. They were barely five minutes into the match and his bladder had decided enough was enough. It was time to go. Right. Now.
Looking around desperately for a way out, he was dismayed to find both exits blocked with screaming fans waving their flags in his face. He was trapped and his bladder was not calming down. He had minutes, maybe seconds, to get down the flight of stairs to the loo.
Suddenly, Ron slammed into him, knocking him onto his seat. Immediately, his overworked bladder began to release, try as he might, he couldn’t get it to fully stop. Throwing off his now slightly wet cloak, Harry dashed as quickly as he could along the seats until he got to the stairs thanking all that was holy that everyone was entranced with the game and not him for once.
He could tell the back of his trousers had a small patch of wetness on them, but more concerning was the front. He paused once on the landing to try and make it stop, but only found that he was continuing to leak. The front of his trousers were beginning to show a rather large patch of wetness on them and Harry could feel small rivulets of urine running down his leg.
‘Oh please,’ he thought as he dashed to the toilet, larger and larger spurts coming out. ‘Please stop, please!’
Skidding to a stop in front of one of the urinals, he frantically danced as he pulled down his trouser and pants, not bothering to worry about undoing the buttons as they were already quite sodden. He had nearly gotten them down when a wave of desperation hit him and he found he was no longer just leaking, but rather full on wetting himself. Right in front of the urinal.
Frantically, he shoved his hand into the front of his pants and grabbed onto his penis while continuing to struggle with removing the trousers with his other hand. Grasping his cock, he squeezed in an attempt to stem the flow.
Finally, the trousers and pants slipped below his hips and he let loose a stream of urine into the urinal, gasping at the release. The hand which had been gripping his cock relaxed and slowly began stroking almost involuntarily as the pressure in his bladder and abdomen was released and copious amounts of urine spilled into the urinal. It felt wonderful. It felt fantastic.
It felt orgasmic.
Harry realized with a start that, now that his need to pee was diminishing another need was beginning to take over. He still felt like he needed to pee, but more importantly, he needed to cum. The feeling of his wet pants rubbing along his shaft had started it, then the utter and complete relief of finally being able to go, and now his own stroking of his cock had left him with a raging erection the likes of which he hadn’t expected nor could he ignore.
Starting slowly, then increasing in speed, he rubbed his cock to full attention, gasping and trying to keep the sounds of what he was doing down in case someone should happen to walk by.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered as cum began to shoot from the end of his penis. “Oh, fuck that felt good.”
Despite the heat rushing through his body and the slight lightheadedness he felt, he realized he couldn’t leave the urinal just yet. Apparently, mastrubating made it easier for him to urinate and now his bladder was back to trying to empty itself, but fully this time.
Leaning over and resting a hand on the wall behind the urinal, Harry sighed in relief as his bladder finally finished emptying.
“Damn, Harry,” Ron’s voice suddenly sounded from the corner. “Damn…. That was…. That looked…. amazing.”
Edited November 5, 2020 by JungleMoon
(see edit history) |
The next day after playing a game with Chalon Nick woke up that morning, brushed his teeth, took a bath, dressed and exercised in his room, or engaged in various activities during the day. He grabbed a bottle of green tea in the fridge and intended to give Eli because of the incident yesterday. Chalon piss himself, so he forgot two bottles of green tea to give to his roommate.He was in front of the room 205 and loosened a hand and knocked on the door, but no one responded, so Nick knocked on the door again but Eli didn't respond at all, so Nick decided to wait in front of her room. The woman came down from the third floor, carrying a carrying bag to go shopping. She stopped at Nick for a moment and greeted him.
“ Hey Nick, isn't it? What are you doing here? ” She is Menoa, aged about 21 years.
Nick knew her a week ago but didn't really meet each other.
“ Miss Menoa ”
Nick and Menoa talked downstairs. Menoa picked up Nick's green tea, but Nick didn't pay attention.
“ In short, you will reconcile her with green tea. *gulp* *gulp* ”
“ Probably thought she didn't dare to see my face anymore I don't know what to do. ”
Nick spoke but looked at him as empty as Menoa, who saw Nick's condition and slapped him in the back to warn.
“ Don't think too much. Eli is not a person who hates anyone because of all this. ”
Menoa spoke and continued to drink green tea, and she completely drank it.
“ HAAAAAAAA ”
Manoa picked up her carrying bag and asked Nick.
“ Um, will you go shopping with me? ”
Nick thought for a while, but he nodded to agree, and Menoa wore her robe, wore a helmet and let Nick sit in the big bike cushion behind her. Menoa rides a big bike to a mall in the city, which is very far. After Nick and Menoa entered the mall for a short while, Manoa grabbed Nick's hand and took him to the food ingredients zone.
“ Um, Miss Menoa, you want to buy something? ”
Menoa didn't answer Nick and she seemed to be looking for something and ran to the vegetable zone and took out the Chinese cabbage.
“ This is what I want. I plan to make Sukiyaki. Will you come to eat too? ”
“ If there is no problem in the evening ”
Nick sighed a little and thought to himself.
( Oh, mention Sukiyaki. So the rest of the ingredients )
Nick and Menoa go to buy sukiyaki ingredients, but along the way, Menoa squeezes her thighs a little so that Nick doesn't notice. After 15 minutes, the coolness of the mall air conditioner and the bathroom of the mall is far from where they are. Menoa breathed softly, squeezed his thighs and walked awkwardly. Nick isn't a person who can't look at people, so he asks Menoa.
“ Miss Menoa, are you okay or do you want to go to the bathroom? ”
“ I'm fine. Just this. I can still hold it. ”
And Nick and Menoa arrived at the final ingredient but Menoa put her hand in her vagina and bounced her back and forth.
“ Miss. Menoa, if you can't do it, don't force it, or else you will ease yourself in front of the mall. ”
“ No, I said I'm fine ..... Ah! ” Menoa leaked out and a drop of golden liquid would be in her skirt.
“ Miss. Menoa, I know that you don't want to show your weakness to me but you have to use the bathroom. ”
Menoa bounced back and forth and had to give up on Nick and accepted.
“ But I can't move. If I move, I'll piss my….AH! ”
Nick didn't listen to Menoa until the end, and held Menoa in the position to hold the bride and ran to the bathroom of the nearest mall. Menoa's urine droplets still come out along the way and her skirt now has dark spots and she squeezes her thighs tightly on Nick's hands.In the end, Nick brought Menoa to the bathroom, but the female toilet now has a very long wait. This is what Menoa couldn't hold.
“ Ah! no it'll come out already. ”
Menoa hurried to the men's bathroom but there was a boy coming out of the toilet. So Manoa hid the nook near her. Nick, who ran after Menoa, saw that her tears were washing her cheeks and spoke agitated.
“ Why does this have to happen to me? ”
Her skirt is darker and a golden liquid is pouring out of her vagina. Menoa couldn't stop the flow and it came out of her vagina. She was squatting, putting her hands around her knees together so that Nick couldn't see her wet pee's skirt. Nick saw Menoa's embarrassing appearance covering her head and grabbed her hand into the man's bathroom and entered the bathroom stall.
“ What are you doing? ”
Then Nick pulled down Menoa's skirt, and then pulled her white underwear so it was on her knees, revealing Menoa's wet pussy.
“ So embarrassing. Do I have to show my pussy to a younger man? ”
And Nick took out the tissue and wiped the Menoa's pee stain that stained her legs and pussy until clean and let Menoa put her underwear and skirt back as usual.
Nick and Menoa then traveled to the car park and rode back to the dormitory. On the way, there were uninterrupted glances at Menoa's skirt, and Menoa then rode the big bike back to the dormitory.
“ Thank you for shopping with me. ”
“ Never mind, you also helped me. ”
Menoa was going up to the third floor but she stopped in the middle of the stairs and she told Nick that
“ I have to repay you ”
Then, Menoa discussed her skirt up, now she didn't wear underwear, and then Menoa's pussy had nothing to hide Nick immediately blushed upon seeing Manoa's pussy and covered his face in order not to see it and for a while she pulled her skirt back.
“ Hahaha. I hope to see you again. ”
“ Yes, I hope too ”
Nick and Menoa returned to their room to continue living.
END..... |
I love Fire Emblem, and decided to write some fics about it. These are, for the most part, gonna be little bitesized one-shots with little-to-no continuity. While these stories are gonna be, like, 95% female-character-focused, there are a handful of male characters in Fire Emblem that I like for omo purposes, like Ashe and Robin. They also won't all be the same kinds of accidents. This first story is mostly centered around fear accidents, but I'm also planning to involve other types of accidents and desperation.
Anyway, here's the first story, starring Bernadetta and Petra. Hope you enjoy it!
For clarity, this is post-timeskip, the characters are age 20 or above.
Why couldn’t I have gotten Hanneman or Manuela as my professor? Bernadetta thought miserably. She considered Professor Byleth a friend and confidant, without doubt, but she was also fairly sure that Manuela didn’t regularly take her class out to rout legions of bandits and deserters. Hiding, faking sickness, pleading to be allowed to stay in her room, nothing fooled nor persuaded the Professor. Though of course, now that war had engulfed the land, it wasn't as simple as just faking sick to get out of class.
It didn’t help that she was the only skilled archer in Byleth’s retinue; she couldn’t stay out of the fight because her skills were explicitly needed. The added pressure did nothing to help Bernadetta’s malaise.
“Bernadetta, something is the matter?” Came the elegant, if confused, voice of Petra. Frail and small as she was, the archer needed some protection, and Petra was selected to guard her.
“Huh?” She looked at the taller woman, who appeared rather concerned, “Oh, uh, sorry. Just… ”
“You have not been firing,” Cutting to the point, Petra gestured to Bernie’s bow.
“Ah, r-right! P-please don’t be mad!”
“Mad? I am not being mad,” She said in a soothing voice, “But the Professor may be.”
Bernie went pale. Images of Byleth turning her wrath against the diminutive woman raced through her mind, chilling her to the core. “W-what?! Y-you don’t think she’d actually be m-m-mad, do you?!” The logical parts of her mind told her that Byleth would never hurt her, but the much larger paranoid section screeched that she was now in mortal peril.
“Oh!” Petra realized that her wording had frightened her, “You should shooting… I mean, you should be, uh, aiding our allies,” The foreign woman stumbled a bit as she tried to piece the sentence together, “The Professor brought you for doing that, yes?”
“Uh, yeah… ”
“And you are good, yes? At shooting?”
“Um, I guess… ”
“Then don’t you want to be helping our friends?”
Bernie swallowed, knowing there was only one right answer, “Yes… Let’s go.”
-----
In a twisted, ironic sort of way, Bernie found the rigors of combat marginally less stressful than her daily life at the Monastery. There, she was constantly looking over her shoulder and trying to listen for plots to harm her. But on a battlefield, there was no paranoia. Everyone who wanted to hurt you was usually pretty open about it. Now, that’s not to say that she wasn’t absolutely terrified, because she was. Just that the added fear of the unknown was not present.
Her heart racing, mind fueled only by adrenaline and instinct, she nocked and loosed arrow after arrow, turning a large group of bloodthirsty bandits into pincushions. Beside her, Petra dueled and defeated any ventured too close to the little archer. As worried as she was that her teammates would turn on her at any second, she had to admit that she did trust Petra. She didn’t seem to have a bad bone in her body.
And it’s good that Petra was trustworthy, because she was a terrifying opponent. With speed and dexterity unlike anything she’d ever seen, the Brigid warrior nimbly dodged every attack and retaliated with deft and lethal blows. Once again, gory images of what would happen if she incurred the wrath of one of her friends came to her mind. She banished the thoughts quickly, but not before a spurt of pee dampened the crotch of her boyshorts.
She clenched her thighs together slightly, but she knew it was only a leak. As timid and meek as she was, Bernadetta was… well-versed in the workings and failings of her bladder and bowels. She knew when it was just a light leak. She blushed as the slight heat caressed her groin, but she ignored it, and resumed her archery. It’s not as though the sensation was unfamiliar to her; almost any conversation with Hubert or Edelgard saw her retreating to her room with soggy shorts.
“Just a little more, we’ve nearly won!” Byleth’s voice called through the trees and ramshackle bandit housing. Joy filled Bernie’s heart with the realization that soon, very soon, she’d be able to return to the comfort of her room.
“Bernadetta!” Petra’s shouting startled the young archer, and she whirled around, only to be greeted by an axe-wielding man with a murderous glint in his eyes.
Bernie screamed, and collapsed to the ground, landing on her butt. The bandit raised his axe, only for Petra to deliver a strong kick to his side, sending him reeling. In the blink of an eye, her sword was driven through his chest, ending whatever threat he posed.
Bernie was stunned and motionless, having nearly fainted in fear. Her eyes told her that she’d been saved, but her brain was too terrified to process as much. It was her nose that finally got her attention, when a sharp, acrid smell drifted upwards. She glanced down, and saw that she was sitting in a rapidly growing puddle of urine. Steam rose upwards, carrying the scent with it. In the silence that took over the area, she could even hear the hissing as her pee spilled into her black shorts. The wetness and heat spread across her bottom, the pool expanding behind her and soaking into her skirt. The backs of her thighs were wet, the fabric of her shorts now clinging to her.
Worst of all, Petra stood right next to her, watching the entire display. Tears stung her eyes, and began to flow down her cheeks. Ordinarily, her solitary and elusive nature meant that she was able to hide almost all of her accidents.
“Oh my… ” Petra said simply.
Bernie attempted to reply, but only produced a choked sob.
“Bernadetta, it is okay. Did you hurt… Um, did you get hurt?”
She shook her head.
“Then there is nothing to be worrying about!” Petra smiled, and extended her hand, but Bernadetta just looked back down at the ground, and the cooling puddle of her own pee that she sat in.
-----
Petra hated to see anyone in such a state. The princess of Brigid had a deeply compassionate heart, and she was determined to help her friend feel better.
Even if meant resorting to… unconventional measures.
Ensuring that Bernadetta was still focused on her own wetting, Petra closed her eyes tightly. She pushed and strained, struggling to overcome her instincts telling her not to piss her pants. Eventually, she won out, and felt hot urine stream into her panties. Even though she was doing such a humiliating thing to help out a friend, she saw no reason to go too far with it, and stopped herself after peeing just a little.
“It is okay, Bernadetta. I… did, too,” Petra had strategically peed just enough that a few droplets slid down her toned thighs, leaving wet trails.
“Y-you did? Were you scared, too?” The archer looked aghast.
She wasn’t particularly scared, in reality. Sure, any fight was dangerous, but these guys weren’t exactly big fish. “Every fight is scaring to me,” she lied, “sometimes, I wet.” She lied through her teeth. The elegant princess of Brigid had never wet nor soiled herself in combat before, and the sensation of damp, clammy panties was agonizingly shameful and uncomfortable. She wondered if she might burn her underwear once they returned to the Monastery.
“Wow… Um, I didn’t know that,” She seemed to be more shocked by the false revelation than her near death experience. At the very least, Petra intentionally wetting herself hadn’t been for nothing- her friend had stopped bawling.
“Um… Please do not… Uh, I won’t tell any of the-” Petra struggled to find the correct words,
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Suddenly, Bernadetta had become the comforting one.
Once again, she extended her hand, and this time Bernie accepted it, and was helped to her feet. Once more, she looked ruefully at her drenched shorts, and patted her behind to feel the soaked fabric of her skirt. Even though it was black, it was quite obvious what she’d done. She was considering a solution to help her hide the accident when a bandit stumbled into sight from the treeline.
The bandit was a woman, and she looked behind her with a sly smile, but jumped back when she spotted the two. “You’re kidding me? More of you?!” She said, “You’re not taking me!”
It seemed she’d lost her nerve and tried to flee when Byleth and the others cleared out her group. Her pants were wet. A fairly natural reaction to facing Byleth in combat. Petra drew her sword and prepared to finish off the bandit. Behind her, Bernadetta raised her bow. Either one of them was more than a match for the bandit, and it seemed she knew it; her legs were shaking.
But their short battle was not meant to be. A low but loud growl emanated from the woods behind the bandit. She spun around to see the source, and Petra noted with some concern that the seat of the bandit’s trousers bulged and sagged suddenly. “Oh, forget this!” She shouted as she sprinted away.
Seconds later, a colossal demonic beast surged through the trees, knocking many of them down. It was some sort of enormous, gray, stone-covered lizard. It roared with monstrous vigor, and Petra could feel her heart skipping. Her breaths quickened, and numbness shot through her body. It was a monster of pure malice.
She wanted to move, to speak, to fight, to do anything, but she was frozen. Wetness flooded her groin, and she glanced downwards to notice a dark spot on the front of her tight skirt. It spread swiftly, and after a couple of seconds, streams of pee spilled from under her skirt. It splashed messily to the ground, sprinkling her legs with urine. Her pee made a sharp hiss as it spilled into her panties; this time she had truly wet herself in fear.
No… She’d done even worse than that. Her panties sagged, and drooped low between her legs. Her bowels had voided in her fright, as well. Unable to expand far thanks to her tight skirt, her mess went downwards. Petra knew that her clothing left little to the imagination, and it most certainly did little to hide the bulge she felt certain was there. At the very least, her release was almost entirely solid, and wouldn’t stain very badly. It still didn’t make her feel any better about having soiled herself, too. In front of Bernadetta, too. She felt she now understood her friend’s misery when she wet herself.
“P-Petra… What do we do?” Bernie’s voice shook with fear.
Petra inhaled deeply, desperately wanting to steel her nerves, “... Fight.”
-----
True to her earlier advice, Petra had had an accident out of fear. Bernadetta once again could hardly believe her eyes when she noticed that Petra had crapped herself. Even with a load in her underwear, she still moved with the grace and poise of an apex predator. The reptilian beast lunged at her, massive claw swiping. Only barely, Petra leapt backwards. Taking the opening, she slashed at one of its forelegs, leaving crimson gashes.
While it was focusing on Petra, Bernadetta had time to line up a few shots. Fighting through the trembling of her limbs, she loosed an arrow, which buried itself in the hide of the monster. It grumbled lightly. Another arrow. Another. Another. Another. She began firing arrows as rapidly as possible. Eventually, the beast had had enough of it, and raked the ground, sending a shower of large rocks right at Bernie. With a shrill scream, she dove out of the way.
Standing back up, she reached for her bow, only to find it absent. Looking around in a panic, she saw it several yards away, partially covered by thrown rocks. A vicious growl called her attention back to the beast, which was focused entirely on her, ignoring Petra. The arrows must’ve hurt more than she realized.
Staring into the soulless, hateful eyes of the beast, Bernadetta became totally paralyzed with dread. Her body relieved itself of everything left in it, and a wet squelch was audible just before she felt her mess spill into her boyshorts. It swiftly crumpled up against her rear, forming a large, wet ball. The sensation of wet clay spread across her butt. The elasticity of her underwear and shorts let her release create a large bulge that pressed up against her pee-soaked skirt. As she continued crapping her pants, she could feel her shorts getting tighter to accommodate the release. There was a final squish as she finished soiling herself, and the load settled into her underpants.
The beast drew closer, preparing to strike, when a voice rang out: “Get down!!” It wasn’t Petra’s. It was an authoritative but respectable voice. A voice that, even through her extraordinary terror, Bernie obeyed. She ducked, and only a second later a swipe of Byleth’s whip-sword flew over her head, striking the beast in the face. It reeled in pain as the blessed Sword of the Creator burned its flesh. Byleth followed up with a direct assault, charging forward and striking the beast over and over. Petra joined in.
If Petra was a frightening enemy, then Byleth was a force of nature- unstoppable and invincible. With skill and speed, the two made short work of the monstrosity. It collapsed, lifeless.
“Are you two all right?”
“Uuh, I… We… ” Still in shock, Bernie could hardly speak.
“We are not harmed,” Petra answered for her, “Thank you for the saving- er, thank you for saving us, Professor.”
With a couple of sniffs, and an informative glance at the wet skirts both of them wore, Byleth quickly deduced that they were in need of a change. She didn’t say anything, but she fixed both of them with a sympathetic look.
“Um, it came out of the woods, from nowhere, and it was terrifying, and I just kind of… ” Bernadetta trailed off. The smell in the air told the rest of the story.
“The same for me,” Petra intoned, blushing deeply.
Byleth put her hands on her hips, “I’ll keep the rest of the class here a bit longer. You two can run ahead of us so you get back to Garreg Mach first. Get cleaned up.”
“Oh, thank you Professor!”
“Quite, thank you!”
The two took their chance and ran for it, though both quickly decided to go a bit slower. Running with a load in their pants turned out to be rather unpleasant.
Edited August 31, 2021 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
Finally wrote up the next short story, this one focusing on Tharja and male Robin from Awakening. So fair warning for anyone who dislikes male content, there is male wetting/messing in this chapter. It also is unlikely to be the only chapter to feature Tharja, since she's one of my favorites. Hope you enjoy!
Also, I should note that, while these first two stories are similar in concept, not all of them will be. With Fire Emblem being about going off to fight scary monsters and wars, it's just an ideal setting for fear accidents. The next story will have a largely different theme.
Robin had always been unnerved by the Risen, even after facing them in combat dozens of times. They were possessed, or undead, or just bloodthirsty facsimiles of humans; he had never been sure precisely what they were, only that they served a darker power. They always shook him to his core; although the young tactician was careful never to air his fears with anyone else, lest they doubt that his strategies were compromised by his nerves.
In his nightmares they stalked him, and in his waking hours he often swore he saw one just at the edge of his vision. Twice before, after a bloody battle with a pack of Risen, he’d returned to his tent to discover that the wetness between his legs was not sweat, but his own urine. He thanked Naga that he’d never released enough to stain his pants, only soak his underwear. Part of what made the Risen particularly frightful to Robin was their method of attack. They appeared seemingly at random, and began marauding about as soon as possible. There was no possible way for him to formulate a plan of attack when their opponent was a random assortment of foes that appeared at random.
But this time was different. As Robin furiously scribbled away and drafted lines across a war map, he relished every stroke of the pen. At last, they’d found the Risen first, and the tactician was having a field day plotting their demise. Chrom and Frederick prepared their force, and left Robin to complete the plan. Finally, he could-
“That looks good,” Came a happy-yet-gloomy voice behind him.
“Gyah!” He whipped around, startled, and saw Tharja standing behind him. “Ah, oh. Hello Tharja.” As always, the dark mage stood just slightly too close for comfort, just close enough to violate his personal space.
“You seemed invested in what you were doing, so I didn’t want to interrupt you.” Her face was usually difficult to read but she almost always smiled faintly when she and Robin were alone, and she did then.
“Wait, Tharja how long have you been there watching me?”
“A couple of minutes,” She responded flatly, without the slightest inkling that Robin may have found this a little unsettling.
The strategist felt himself blush slightly. He’d been rather animated in his drafting of the battle plan, and hardly anyone ever saw him lose composure like that. “Ah… At any rate, you think my plan will work?” His voice betrayed his anxiety.
Her smile grew deeper, and she put her hands together, “Robin, I think any plan you come up with will work.”
“Yeah, I suppose you would, huh?” He was well aware that Tharja supported anything he did. Maybe that’s why he was actually willing to confide any of his anxiety to her, “But, really look at it. Is there anything you might do differently?”
The dark mage inhaled quietly but sharply, immediately jubilated at the opportunity to help her crush with something. She stepped forward, and inspected the map. “These here indicate our archers?”
“They do.”
“These are the mages?”
“Yes. You’re that one,” He pointed to a little X on the map.
“Hmm… ” Tharja was no career strategist, but she was an extremely intelligent woman. She was most certainly among the few people in their army that Robin would seek counsel from. “We don’t know what to expect from the Risen, so perhaps don’t have us spread so thin.”
“That’s something to consider. Thank you, Tharja,” He smiled at her, and she blushed. “Our force looks to outnumber theirs, so I figured we could surround and route them quickly.”
“And that is why you are making the plan,” she responded, with an odd warmth to her voice. Robin had never seen her speak to anyone else even half as kindly as she did with him. “You know… ” She began, then took an excited step forward, stopping only a couple of inches from him, “If you’re in need of a bodyguard, I’d be happy to stay by your side.”
“Um, thanks, but… ” He stammered out, quickly becoming uncomfortable, “I’ll be with Chrom and Lucina near the center. I’ll be fine.” At the mage’s dejected sigh, he continued, “You know you’re our strongest magic user by far. I need you to help lead the others and keep them safe.” She smiled faintly once more, indicating he said the right thing.
The flap of the tent flew open, revealing Lucina, “Robin, it-” She stopped for a second to fix Tharja, who shouldn’t be in the war tent, with a quizzical look before continuing, “The Risen are beginning to move. It’s time to strike.”
-----------------
Robin’s plan worked beautifully. The Shepherds swiftly overwhelmed the meagre enemy force, and put them all down. However, any celebration was cut short as a swarm of Risen pegasus riders descended upon them, and more of the monsters began pouring from the treeline. Once again, the unpredictable nature of the Risen had become a nightmare.
Indeed, “nightmare” was a shockingly accurate word. Separated from his friends, his carefully crafted plan in shambles, and imminent death surrounding him; it looked very much like the nightmares that haunted his sleep. A Risen knight charged him, but a blast of lightning from his spellbook killed the fiend. A swordsman lunged at him, and he barely blocked the strike. With his free hand, he pulled another spell from his book, and incinerated the undead warrior.
He was already panting hard when more glowing eyes spotted him from the shade of the trees. There were a lot of them, closing in fast. He turned to flee, in the hopes of finding the others to help him, but all he saw were more glowing eyes, burning brighter as they came ever closer. He was dimly aware of the odd sensations in his underwear, which felt as if it was being pulled and tightened. A weight settled in the seat of his pants, and something like clay pressed up against his butt. Ah… He realized, I just soiled my smallclothes, didn’t I? As shameful and humiliating as it was, he could scarcely bring himself to notice or care about it.
Forgetting the sensitive cargo that had come to rest in his underpants, he inspected his spellbook, but found it had been depleted of magic. His sword was all he had left. Ditching the book, he readied himself for combat. No matter how scared he was, he was still the second in command of the Shepherds, and he intended to fight like it. As the first of the Risen broke from the treeline, and was fully in view, another sensation struck him. A warmth creeping down his thighs. He spared a quick glance downward, and confirmed that his baggy white pants were now host to a rapidly expanding gray stain.
He swallowed his fear, and prepared to fight. Just as the Risen came within striking distance, a bolt of lightning obliterated the unholy marauder. He was disintegrated utterly. Even the generally mindless Risen stopped to look at the source of the attack. Following their gaze, Robin saw Tharja not far behind him, surrounded by golden runes, already heaving another cataclysmic spell at the next Risen. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” She shouted in a steely voice. He’d never been so happy to see her. Most of them promptly prioritized Tharja, and sprinted towards her.
Taking the opportunity she’d granted him, he lashed out at the distracted Risen, cutting down several as they made for the mage. Between her destructive spells and Robin’s judicious strikes, the Risen didn’t last long. In the heat of the fight, however, Tharja caught a glimpse of Robin’s urine-soaked pants. The poor thing, he was terrified without me, she cursed herself for leaving him alone. And he’s going to be so upset. There must be something I can… do…
Before she even finished the thought, an obvious and unpleasant solution occurred to her. Robin would most assuredly feel better is he knew he wasn’t the only one to have an accident in their pants. And she did feel the need to relieve herself. But at the same time, Tharja silently agonized over the possibility that him seeing her wet or soiled would disgust him to the point that he’d never want to be with her. Not to mention that her outfit was beyond revealing. She only wished to comfort Robin, but her “accident” would be easily visible to anyone.
But time was running short, the last of the Risen would perish to Robin’s blade momentarily. She had to make a call. Making use of his focus being elsewhere, Tharja shut her eyes, and gave a push. The back of her panties began to tent, but just as she began she hit a mental block. She hated what she was doing. No, it’s for Robin, She told herself, and found the will to continue. She pushed once again, and the air filled with a loud crackle as her underwear and stockings were filled with her own mess. She shuddered and cringed at the warm, soft feeling of the mass that was pressed against her butt. Since her lower clothes were little more than panties, they did a poor job of holding her mess up, and began to sag low very quickly.
The last enemy was no more, and for better or worse, it was time to see if her own plan would pay off. Robin approached her. He was absolutely haggard and exhausted, but still looked grateful, “Tharja, I can’t… Thank you enough… ” He squeaked out between breaths.
“Of course. I’d do anything for you,” She proudly answered. Anything, even treat my panties as a latrine.
Robin scanned the area around them, but Tharja’s eyes were drawn to the extensive stain between his legs “We should find the… others...” Following her eyes, he suddenly remembered how much he no longer needed to relieve himself. “Right. That.” He muttered quietly. The delayed shame finally began to set in. “It just… happened. I was surrounded, and then,” he finished simply looking down at his wet pants. The wetness seemed to reach all the way down to his shoes.
It was now or never. “Oh, don’t look so depressed.” She found what she was about to do far more frightening than any enemy she’d faced. She spun around, and lifted her cape to give Robin a view of her rear. Her soiled, sagging rear. “I was afraid, too. And I did worse than you did.”
Robin chuckled awkwardly and turned crimson. “At least I’m not alone, I suppose.” He averted his eyes, “Although, I wouldn’t be so sure that you did worse than me… ”
“You mean you also… ” His bowlegged stance answered for her.
“How about both of us forget what we saw here?” Some mirth had returned to his voice, and Tharja elected to just feel satisfied that her plan seemed to have worked, rather than think about the mess in her pants.
“My lips are sealed,”
-----------------
When they finally reunited with the rest of the Shepherds, Robin had buttoned his long coat to hide his stains, and Tharja wrapped her cape around herself to prevent the wind from exposing her mess. As loathe as the two were to spend any more time in their soiled clothes, they had to stick around to make sure all of their people were safe. Once everyone was accounted for, the two promptly disappeared back to their camp, before anyone got close enough to smell them.
Edited November 14, 2020 by DsGSilver
(see edit history) |
5 hours training every morning. It was a standard expectation for all knights of the Order of The Rose, but for the newly-promoted Captain Charlotte, it was a daunting task. Not, of course, for its physical challenge, but for its length. As an ordinary member of the Order, she was free to duck out as necessary to deal with... personal matters, but now that she was the youngest Knight Captain in the entire history of the country, she couldn't be seen to show such weakness.
In principle, the option was still available to her, but for the Captain to leave her own training session for something so trivial was simply unacceptable - it would be disrespectful to her subordinates and embarrassing to the order. Thus, she simply resolved to hold it until the end. And she did, more or less. The situation was painfully obvious for all to see, of course - by the end of the training, her holy magic had gone from a bright blue to a deep yellow, and more mundanely, she would begin pacing up and down and dancing on the spot as the training drew to a close - but she held it, mostly. Minor hidden faux pas aside, she could successfully dismiss her unit no sooner than the appointed time, make her way gingerly to the nearest toilet and remove enough of her armour to clear the way for her golden stream consistently every morning.
And so we find her, one particular morning near the close of an ordinary training session, leading the unit through their last holy magic practice of the session. The holy fires being summoned at this point were various shades of white through yellow, along with a bright blue flame from the single trainee who had just returned after stepping out. Charlotte finished her final demonstration, stamping with her lifted leg and grimacing as she finished her cast. The raw power of her magic shattered her training target, and drew all attention to the splash of embarrassingly-golden energy she produced. As the unit followed her lead, producing somewhat less impressive displays of power, she danced from foot to foot, waiting for the girls to finish their practice set so they could be dismissed. As the last flashes of light finished, the knights fell in and Charlotte stood, quivering slightly, at a tense attention as she began the dismissal:
"We dedicate this training to the country we serve, and our Queen in particular. As the Order of The Rose, it is our duty to serve as Her personal guard, and this training is proof of our dedication. We strive to better ourselves each day that we may better protect Her Majesty, and our country from those who would do them harm. In the name of Lily, Queen of Flowers, you are dismissed."
As one, all the knights sheathed their weapons and turned to the right, standing at attention for 5 seconds, before simultaneously breaking ranks to go about their duties. A short spurt of urine forced its way into her underwear as Charlotte began her single-minded trek to relief. She loosened the ties keeping her plate-skirt together as she minced toward the training hall's exit, removing her gauntlet and shoving her hand against her underskirt once she'd freed enough space around the now-loose plates. As she moved toward the exit, she failed to notice the older knights urging the trainees to "wait a bit longer" as they watched her go past. She was far too preoccupied to wonder why the lavatories were never crowded immediately after such a long training session; she was protected from that embarrassing truth by single-minded urgency alone.
Unfortunately, as she stepped out of the training hall, her trek was interrupted by a messenger. Charlotte waited, stepping from foot to foot and crossing her legs alternately as he delivered his unreasonably verbose message:
"By the grace of Queen Lily, I come bearing a message from Her Majesty: An emergency court session has been convened to address the demands borne by a diplomat from the Citizens' State of Dathomar. Knight Captain Charlotte Hulthemia, of the Order of The Rose, is hereby ordered to take her place by Her Majesty's side, according to standard court procedures, so that Her Majesty may be protected from harm and that the order of her court may be maintained. As soon as the Order of The Rose finishes its daily training ritual, she is to proceed directly to the Throne Room to discharge her duties as Knight Captain of the Order of The Rose. While present, she will be expected to discharge all her normal courtly duties, which include but are not limited to: protecting Her Majesty from any who dare to assault her, maintaining order in the court by serving as the manifestation of Her Majesty's will, behaving respectfully and honourably at all times as a member of Her Majesty's household guard, and serving as Her Majesty's second, in the event that trial by combat be called."
That emergency court sessions were usually short, addressing only one or two matters before adjournment, was scant reassurance to the already-leaking young woman whose opportunity for relief had just closed. Unable to ignore a direct order, she set off toward the Throne Room, digging her hand into her dampening skirt and blinking the tears out of her eyes as she nigh-waddled toward her new destination.
She was visibly leaking by the time she reached the side door to the Throne Room. Every few steps were accompanied by a cluster of golden droplets cascading down onto the stone beneath her. Her hand was now tucked beneath the hem of her underskirt, pressing directly against her sodden underwear. As she approached the door, a violent spasm forced her to bend double, a long stream forcing its way through her fingers and sending rivulets down her thighs. A pool formed around each foot, distinct pools connected by a trail of droplets. She pressed her free hand against the wall to maintain her balance as she tensed, desperately willing the stream to stop. Managing to halt the flow of urine, she took a few deep breaths before the door, tightening her plate-skirt and wiping her hand on her bodice, taking care not to wet the white camise underneath.
She would not make it until the end of the session without disgracing herself, this she knew, but she had no choice but to try and hope for a miracle. Tears filled her eyes again as she straightened her back and pushed lightly on the door, trying to open it as inconspicuously as possible.
She needn't have worried about entering conspicuously, for the court was in uproar and her entry went unnoticed by all except the Queen, who acknowledged Charlotte by gesturing with a look that she should take up her usual position, standing by the left side of the throne. Keeping her back straight, she took mincing steps toward her usual position that would be conspicuous if there weren't so much else going on.
The uproar in the court was apparently due to the demands made by the Citizens' State of Dathomar - they had requested that Queen Lily cede an extraordinary amount of land as appeasement to prevent war. One faction of the council wanted to acquiesce, fearing the reputedly unbeatable Dathomir military, while the majority were absolutely unwilling to cede such a vast quantity of land. At a gesture from the Queen, the Speaker brought the court to order as Charlotte took her place by the throne.
Charlotte stood at the best approximation of attention she could muster, unable to prevent her legs from quivering as she squinted through tear-filled eyes to see the court. Anyone looking would clearly see that she was having an accident as she stood, for the sparkle of liquid forming rivulets down her legs was easily visible in the bright sunlit room, and a puddle was forming around her feet. However, the court was embroiled in debate and her slowly progressing accident went unnoticed. The quiet hissing that accompanied each spurt could be heard by those who were nearby, but its nature went ignored as the discussion continued.
All of a sudden, the diplomat, who'd been quiet up until that point, loudly interrupted, declaring that all this talk of compromise and alternative was pointless - if the court didn't like Dathomar's proposal as-is, they could simply wait and watch as it took even more territory by force. At this, the court launched back into uproar, with all factions calling for the diplomat's immediate ejection in response to the insult. Queen Lily responded melodramatically:
"How dare you interrupt our procedures to make such an insult against our country, I hereby eject you from the session and your people's demands are unilaterally rejected! Knight Captain Hulthemia, remove this man from my presence before I have him executed!"
At this, the ever-dutiful Charlotte gave up. All attention was on her, and she could no longer wet herself quietly and sneak away. She strode forward, tears in her eyes as her bladder began to empty uncontrollably. Underwear completely saturated, there was nothing stopping the stream from flowing, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed to shoot full-force at the floor. As she walked, the stream flicked slightly from side to side, wetting the stone floor in a zig-zag pattern, which accompanied the two lines of droplets from the rivulets ending at her feet. As instructed, she grabbed the dumbstruck diplomat, pushing him toward the main doors before a silent court as he began to cackle. The tears flowed as freely as the urine, dripping down her otherwise resolute and unmoving expression. As the main doors closed behind the cackling diplomat, Charlotte began to return to her
position at the throne, still peeing, and crying, forcibly.
Her accident continued all the way back to the throne, and only as she retook her position did the stream begin to slow. As it pattered to a halt, the silence began to break, with voices bemoaning her "unprecedented insult" and calling for various punishments ranging from dismissal to public execution. The speaker struggled to call the court to order, and as silence was slowly restored, the Queen began to speak:
"Knight Captain Hulthemia, for this grave insult before all the Lords of this land, and the Gods and our ancestors, you are hereby dismissed from this session and from the Order of The Rose forthwith. In spite of your dismissal, you are permitted the use of the palace baths to clean yourself. You should report there immediately. Following that, you should report to your chambers to pack your personal effects and await news of further punishment. Never has such disgrace been seen in this Throne Room and the court will debate a fitting recourse in absentia. Now begone!"
She continued: "I would like to bring a new matter to the table, regarding the recent interr..."
At the Queen's order, Charlotte walked dejectedly toward the side door, breaking out into a run as she approached. Her stony expression cracked, and she sobbed loudly as she retreated from the site of her disgrace.
----
I just wrote this off-the-cuff this morning. If it's weird, I'm sorry I've never written fiction before.
I will probably continue this at some point, but don't expect it to happen any time soon. Consider this essentially a one-off, then if it gets continued, enjoy that as it happens.
Please tell me if you find any errors.
Edited August 31, 2020 by redlaw
(see edit history) |
I've added the final touches to the next chapter. The quest is about to begin!
----
The details of her trial were brought to her in the late afternoon of that day by a messenger. The rest of the evening was spent planning a route to the Great Forest. Charlotte planned to get a job as a carriage guard going in that direction - she was not allowed to use her station to leverage a position, but she could still use it as
evidence that she was qualified. Charlotte began to draft a letter for the merchant guild, requesting work that would bring her closer to the Great Forest. As she worked, she shifted around uncomfortably, her filling bladder beginning to get uncomfortable...
"...aptain? Captain!"
Charlotte jolted awake as she was shaken. She'd fallen asleep working on her letter, and her second-in-command, Amy, was shaking her awake. "It's twenty to seven; you were expected to report to the Queen's office ten minutes ago for her to bestow your new uniform upon you ready for your trial! Hurry, you're already late!" She jolted up, eyes widening in surprise as her bladder protested. Dancing on the spot, she grabbed her pack, shoveled in a few spare pairs of underwear and her pyjamas, stuffed in her old teddy bear, then signed her mostly-finished letter and danced unsteadily down the hallway, staggering about as she tried to control herself at speed. She cast a longing glance over at the barracks toilet as she passed, unwilling to make herself any later.
She continued across the courtyard in an unsteady dance-run, path zig-zagging slightly as she crossed her legs with each step. In the middle of the courtyard, a particularly strong pulse of discomfort forced her to a halt, causing her to lift a leg as she shoved her hand into her pocket to grab at her crotch. Moments later, the wave subsided and she continued her zig-zag journey to the main building. She slowed as the entrance drew near, shoving a hand into her crotch and pushing her bum out as she fiddled with the handle. A few wiggles and shakes of both later, and she was inside, making her way to the third floor where the Queen had her office. She took the stairs flight by flight, dashing up the steps quickly before stopping at each landing to press against the railing as she bent over and pee danced. On the third landing, a spray of urine dampened her panties as she danced, prompting her to drop into a squat and grab with her other hand. Regaining control, she made it past the three remaining landings without further accident. She continued her increasingly less dignified trek to Queen Lily's office, grateful that no one was around to watch her waddle. As she approached Lily's door, a longer spurt shot into her panties, sending a thin rivulet running down her leg as it oversaturated them. A few droplets splashed onto the floor through her fingers as she willed herself to stop peeing. Successfully stemming the flow, she took a deep breath and opened the Queen's door, finding her friend staring out the window.
"Ah, I was beginning to think you'd run away." Lily quipped without turning.
"Alright, take off your clothes and let's get this-" the Queen stopped as she turned, eyes darting to Charlotte's crotch, noting the slight bend in her posture, following the rivulet down her leg.
Smirking, the Queen approached her fidgeting knight. She was eager for mischief, but recognised that the chance to mess with her friend had passed. She settled for caressing Charlotte's rump as she whispered "You really are too dutiful for your own good. If it will help, I hereby give you my permission to be late for your duties if you really can't hold it. Come with me to the toilet, and we'll sort this uniform out in a bit." Charlotte winced as the Queen's caress sent her bladder into another spasm. As her free hand was taken and she was coaxed toward her relief, a cluster of spurts released a cascade of droplets from beneath Charlotte's robe, a staccato of hisses and a patter of impacts loudly announcing her impropriety. Dropping her head and blushing as Lily looked back, the knight wordlessly allowed her friend to guide her to relief. Blindly following the Queen's gentle tugs, she waddled agonisingly toward the promised bathroom.
As if cued by the floor changing from polished stone to tile, her bladder contracted violently as the pair entered the toilet, and Charlotte began peeing lightly as she was thrust into the waiting cubicle. As she tugged on her underwear, the stream began to grow into a torrent, and she launched herself onto the bowl while pulling up her robe, relaxing into her relief when she realised she was in the clear. Her eyes locked with Lily's through the still-open door, and the pair burst into laughter as Charlotte's bladder slowly emptied. Lily disappeared from view, and moments later, the thunderous noise from Charlotte's bowl was joined by a powerful hiss from the next cubicle along, a loud (and clearly voluntary) sigh adding to the cacophony.
"My my, Charlotte, two accidents in as many days. Anyone would think you were still a child." The Queen chided lightly as the pair left the toilet.
"Hey, I made it this time!" Charlotte responded, feigning a hurt expression.
"You call this 'making it'?" Lily quipped, her eyes following the trail of droplets leading from her office, lingering for a moment on the small puddle at the door. Charlotte's feigned hurt resolved into a more real glum expression, and Lily knew not to push the issue further.
"I'll have a maid come and mop up once you're gone - hopefully she'll believe it was me and you can go without any further stains on your reputation. You'll have to live with the ones on your panties though!" as the Queen burst into another fit of laugher, Charlotte tried to protest - obviously the Queen's reputation was far more important than hers - but Lily waved her off, voice dropping to a whisper as she said "it's not like it'd be a first for them anyway".
Carefully dodging the puddle at the door, the pair returned to the offices, the Queen locking the door behind them.
"Now," Lily started, "get that ugly robe off and let me help you into your new armour."
"I can equip my own armour, I'm not twelve anymore" Charlotte protested, referring to her first year in training as a knight, where she regularly had her friend help her with the harder-to-reach laces.
"I know, but it's been so long since I saw you strip; I wanted to see how much you've grown!" the Queen responded, secretly hoping her embarrassingly-honest comment wouldn't be taken as a joke. With a exasperated smirk, Charlotte lifted her shift over her head and threw it into a corner.
"Panties too, looks like someone had a bit of an accident! I hope you have a spare pair!"
Blushing, the girl stepped out of her sopping underwear and pulled a clean pair out of her pack, grabbing a tissue from the box on the desk and wiping herself before she pulled them up.
The Order of The Rose armour was not the most practical of get-ups. The Order, whilst exceptionally well-trained, tended to serve more of a decorative role; threats to the Queen herself being exceptionally rare in Floraden. Because of this, their armour was designed to look good more than it was to function well. The armour was worn on top of their standard uniform, consisting of a white chemise beneath a padded dark blue bodice, and a short, dark blue pleated skirt with a white underskirt adding fullness. The armour itself was a corset-shaped cuirass with lamellae that reached down to the mid-thigh, forming a sort of plate-skirt. Mitts and sabatons protected the hands and feet, their leather parts dyed blue like the uniform. Charlotte's new set was a set of the travelling uniform that the order used when away from the castle, and so it had some more useful parts which the ordinary set did not - the white long gloves and kneesocks were replaced with vambraces and greaves, respectively, and the cuirass was augmented with flanged spaulders that protected the shoulders and neck. Heavy headgear interferes with the holy magic that is characteristic of the Order, so the head protection was limited to a decorative coronet encircling the skull. Rank and Order were indicated by a bouquet of fabric flowers inserted into a specially-made pocket on the right sleeve, their colour and species denoting rank and Order, respectively; for the Trial of The Penitent, these flowers would be replaced with a bouquet of wilted iron roses - roses for the Order of The Rose, wiltedness representing disgrace and iron representing the Trial of The Penitent.
Charlotte stood still with her arms out as she allowed her friend to work, stepping into pieces as necessary without prompting. "My, you've grown", Lily quipped as she tightened the cuirass, clearly not talking about height. Placing the coronet on her knight's head, the Queen picked up the iron roses, placing them into their pocket as she spoke according to tradition:
"I hereby bestow upon you the station of penitent. Go, and complete your appointed task, then when you return triumphant, your flowers will be returned and your disgrace will be washed away by achievement."
Opening the door, the girl added: "the captain of the guard is waiting at the gate to see you off. I'm afraid I cannot join you - a queen is only allowed to cry in public during funerals, and I don't think I'll be able to stop myself. Good luck, Char."
The girls hugged warmly before Charlotte made her way down to the front gate to face her trial...
Edited September 2, 2020 by redlaw
(see edit history) |
I've completed another chapter, which you can read below. I appreciate the comments. I think next I'm going to do a flashback-type chapter where I'll try to expand on the setting and the shared history of Charlotte and Lily. I'm not going to lie though, most of the world stuff I just came up with on the spot because I realised I needed it to make the story happen 😧
The magic system, on the other hand, is something I've been working on for a while, and I'm going to wait to expand upon that when they reach the university town mentioned in the following chapter. You'll learn this setting's embarrassing magic secrets as Charlotte does too!
Anyway, here's the chapter:
"Ah, you're here" the old soldier at the gate commented in greeting. "I have your equipment here ready for your trial, what little you're allowed, at least. Here's your survival kit: some rations, a canteen, basic health supplies, a tent, a fire kit, you know the drill. And here's your weapon." He proffered something that was very clearly not a standard-issue longsword. Inlaid with gemstones and leaved with gold, it looked far more important than something you'd give to a disgraced knight. Its crossguard had a bulbous form, with two thin arms leaving the top of the bulb and reaching out to the sides. It reminded Charlotte of anatomical features seen in textbooks, but she couldn't quite place its meaning. The blade was tinted yellow, as if it were made of brass, and the hilt had an engraved graphic of liquid spraying from the guard and raining down toward a cluster of yellow gemstones in the pommel. "This sword is an old relic from the Royal Collection. By all accounts, it's a priceless artifact that should be in a museum, rather than the hands of a penitent, but the council have granted it to you nonetheless. It supposedly bears a magic-enhancing enchantment, but I wouldn't know anything about that." The guard finished, seemingly slightly put-out. Charlotte felt a rush of power as she strapped the sword around her waist. It was clear the stories were not exaggerated - it was indeed a powerful tool. She'd have to thank Lily for being such a good advocate for her - managing to secure such effective tools in contravention of normal procedures was no mean feat. The old soldier called up to the gate guards, and the portcullis rose, opening the way across the drawbridge. As Charlotte took her first step on her journey to redemption, her anxieties began to drain - she had her duty, now all that was left was to carry it out.
The first order of business was to take her letter to the local merchant guild, where she'd get herself a job guarding a caravan heading eastwards. The guild was tucked just inside the city wall, about two and a half hours of foot travel away from the castle, right next to the northern gate whence most of the city's trade came. Charlotte set off northward, hurried along by the novelty of her situation and the sensation of power flowing through her. As she walked, she began to notice another sensation... familiar, but surprising given her relatively recent toilet visit...
In her hurry, she was able to navigate the throngs of people in the city especially deftly and the trek to the northern gate took closer to two hours, and before long, she was waiting in a remarkably long queue at the front desk of the guild. As she stood, she shifted tensely; her bladder was already uncomfortable, not even two hours since it was last emptied. Sensing motion, her eyes darted to the doorway as a young woman dashed through. Clearly in a hurry, the girl crashed into a large man on his way out. Staggering back, she stood stock still for a moment with her face contorted into a grimace, before calling out a hasty apology and jumping into place in the queue behind Charlotte. Stopping there, she ran on the spot for a few moments, biting her lip as she looked around.
As the moment of surprise passed, and people got back to what they were doing, her stepping slowed and she settled into a cross-legged stance with one hand pressed deep into her pocket. "The queues in here are always so long!" she commented unexpectedly to Charlotte. "I had to get these documents in ten minutes ago, but the loaders were delayed and we only just finished preparing the cart. We don't often get knights from the palace this far out in the city, what are you here for?"
"I'm headed east for a Trial of The Penitent, and I'm looking for guard work in that direction." Charlotte responded matter-of-factly.
"What a coincidence! We're headed east!" the girl remarked excitedly. "We don't often get guards because the guild tries to match merchant genders with their guards to prevent accusations of impropriety. One would've thought it better to risk that than risk merchants getting held up, but apparently not. Probably because the merchants are usually able to escape if they leave their cargo anyway. I guess it's not much of a safety concern to..." The girl's babbling cut off as she hunched over and tensed. Her hand moved in her pocket, pulling her dress toward her crotch. "Oh man, I have to pee so bad. I was going to go before delivering these documents, but now I'm late thanks to those lazy loaders. I'd ask you to hold my place, but I've seen people try that before and last time it started a fight! Anyway, would you be willing to guard our carriage? We're heading north first to Narcissa University Town, but after that we'll be heading toward the Great Forest. If we go up to the clerk together and I tell them I've already found a guard, they'll just have you sign a declaration and we can get going straight away." In a conspiratorial whisper, she added "It also means that I shorten this queue by one person and get to the toilet sooner" with a wink. Eager to shorten her own wait and happy with the arrangement offered, Charlotte nodded her affirmative. "Great!" the girl exclaimed. "I'm Hope, by the way. I travel with my sister, Joy. We take it in turns driving the horses, sleeping in shifts to keep travelling. Thankfully there are guild-run waystations every few hours and we can exchange horses as we go - it means we can travel most of the night without stopping."
This was why Charlotte decided to get work as a carriage guard, more than anything. She could walk east on her own and travel at a similar speed, but with the high degree of organisation of the trade routes in Floraden, a mercantile carriage could go for days without stopping as long as the drivers had a sleep rotation. Overall, travelling with merchants could shorten her journey by 20% or more, even with them taking less direct routes. Besides, she'd have to go via the waystations anyway. After all, it would be shameful for a respectable woman like her to relieve herself out in the wilderness...
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hope. My name is Charlotte, I look forward to travelling with you." Her introduction was punctuated with a sudden bladder spasm that forced Charlotte into a curtsey, as if reminding her of her manners. The pair settled in to wait for their turn. Charlotte stood stock still with a slight hunch, her right hand balled into a fist and her left hand crossing over to grab her right arm, and Hope paced small circles in place, crossing each leg over her other with each step.
The queue moved forward, and Charlotte gasped as she went to move and a violent spasm stopped her in her tracks. She lifted her knee, balancing on one leg and wiggling from side to side as she tried to suppress the spasm. "Looks like I'm not the only one in need of relief. I hope this queue hurries up!" Hope whispered, standing on her tiptoes with a hand deep in her pocket. The movement of the queue brought the pair to a low railing, and Charlotte took the opportunity to grab on and press against it, relieving some of the pressure from her abdomen. Her corset-cuirass was not doing her any favours - she could feel it pressing against her bladder, magnifying the pressure. Hope had resumed her pacing, now on tiptoes, the hand in her pocket obviously pressing the material of her dress between her legs.
At this point, a great deal of the room's attention was focused on the two girls. Indeed, they'd turned many heads as they'd entered - the beautiful blonde knight whose armour exaggerated her already perfect figure, and the cute brunette with the loud entrance, had already attracted some attention - but now that their joint struggle was so obvious, more and more heads started turning their way. Suddenly, there was a clattering and flapping sound as the documents Hope was carrying slipped from under her arm and fell to the floor, scattering themselves across the stone. "Oh no," the girl muttered as she dropped carefully into a squat and started trying to gather them back up. As she squatted, she jammed a heel into her crotch, and she ground against it as she worked. Charlotte slowly began the process of squatting herself, but Hope half-screamed "DON'T TOUCH THEM!" Calming slightly, she continued "I don't want them any more out of order than they've already become. Let me sort them ah-" She stopped for a moment as she pressed her weight on her heel, her face contorted into a grimace. "Let me sort them out myself." Collecting all the papers together, she began leafing through, rearranging them back into the correct order. When she'd finished, she grabbed the railing and began to rise, but halfway up, she let out an "eep" and dropped back onto her heel, grabbing her knee as she pressed into it. Grabbing the railing again, she tried to rise once more, slower this time. Slowly and unsteadily, she got back to her feet, immediately hunching over and wrapping her legs around each other once she was up.
Charlotte was rapidly getting more desperate as time passed. Ten minutes ago, Hope was obviously worse-for-wear, but at this point, they were both struggling equally. Charlotte was pressing her underskirt against her crotch, her plate-skirt having been loosened so she could fit a hand through the gaps. Hope's dress had bunched up around her hands that were buried in her crotch, the bunching causing most of her thighs to be visible, in spite of the originally-floor-length fabric. The girls were approaching the end of the queue; only a few remained ahead of them. Hope suddenly burst into a series of panicked motions, bending violently and pressing a knee across her other leg, then mirroring it with the other side, then again, then stopping and pressing hard with her eyes closed, a spray of pee quickly soaking into her underwear. Almost simultaneously, Charlotte collapsed into a squat, grinding furiously against her heel as a staccato of short spurts wetted her panties. The two slowly peeing girls finally moved to the head of the queue, holding on for dear life as the opportunity for relief approached.
"Next!" a Clerk called out, and the girls approached her counter. "What can I he-" the Clerk began, cutting off as Hope thrust her documents at her and gasped "I'm Hope Dandelion, of HJD Trading Co. We're scheduled to- aah-" she stopped as she bobbed down, pressing hard against her sphincter to prevent another leak. "We're scheduled to leave for Narcissa and I need our commission documents processed. We're already running late, so please hurry. Also, we already have a guard arranged, so you don't have to look for one, but she needs to sign the Declaration." The Clerk thrust some paper at Charlotte with one hand as she began looking through the documents and stamping each one in turn. Charlotte took the papers over to a nearby desk, ignoring the seat and bending over the paper, dancing in place as she read. It was a standard declaration that she understood what was expected of her as a guard, including various parts about prioritising lives over cargo and such. She grabbed for her crotch and bent her legs as a spurt forced its way out of her sphincter, her uncompromising position and already saturated panties causing a spray to arc visibly from under her skirt to the floor, a line of droplets forming as it trailed off. Signing the document hurriedly, she returned to find a quivering Hope standing with her hands pressing directly against her panties, the front of her dress riding up to allow access. The Clark hurried through the last few pages and took Charlotte's signed declaration, announcing "okay, that's all finished. Have a lovely journey."
Wincing as she tore her hands away from her crotch, Hope grabbed her precious documents and strode, as respectably and quickly as she could, towards a side-door. Charlotte followed, hoping that she'd be led towards a toilet. Bursting through the door, documents back under her arm, Hope lifted her dress and thrust her hands beneath her panties as soon as she was out of sight. Stepping rapidly from foot to foot, she addressed Charlotte "the toilet is that way," she pointed down the hall, "there's only one, so you can go first. I think I can hold it like this until you finish." Already unlacing her plate-skirt, Charlotte began waddling toward the toilet, Hope dancing along beside her. As the freed armour plates dropped to the floor, Hope stopped in her tracks. Looking back, Charlotte watched as pee began to squeeze past Hope's fingers, ignoring her soaked panties as it leaked to the floor in a narrow stream from her hands, as well as rivulets flowing down her legs. As the stream began to pick up, Hope broke suddenly into an awkward run, tears forming in her eyes as she darted into the toilet. As she released her crotch to pull up her dress, her chaotic spray formed into a well-defined torrent, staying collimated in spite of the sodden underwear that billowed under her golden onslaught. The corridor filled with a cacophonous roar as she poured hours worth of held urine into the bowl, the still-open door failing to mitigate the noise.
Charlotte's bladder, already prepared for release, did not respond well to interruption, and began contracting violently as the roar picked up. The contractions increased in frequency, quickly becoming a constant pressure that could not be denied. With both hands, the she pushed mightily against her sphincter, hitting her knees against each other as she focused all her efforts on her crotch. For all her efforts, she was unable to fully prevent an accident, and a golden cascade fell from her hands as a cluster of spurts overwhelmed her defenses. Rivulets began running down her legs and a dribbling stream flowed from her clutching hands as the spurts resolved into a constant trickle. She paced slowly as she attempted to halt the flow, but only succeeded in spreading her slowly-forming puddle over a larger area. As the cacophony began to reduce in volume, a second sound became audible in the hallway: the pitter-patter of a dribbling stream reaching the floor. The quieting cacophony prompted Charlotte to resume preparing for her turn, and she hooked her panties with her thumb, pulling them part-way down her thigh. She carefully removed her hands from her crotch, the pitter-patter turning into a hiss as her stream strengthened. Quickly forcing her hands under her underwear, she managed to slow the stream once more, and she wiggled her legs to coax her soaked panties down to the floor. As she kicked her panties off toward a wall, the cacophony dimmed to a trickle, and she began advancing carefully toward the open door. Hope was not quite finished when she entered, and her dribble began to pick up force as she stood squirming. Pushing the last bit of pee out, Hope called out "finished!" and darted to the side. As she lumbered forward, Charlotte's dribble became a full-force stream which jetted to the floor as she pulled up her skirt and plonked herself down. The hallway was, once again, filled with the cacophonous roar of an overstrained bladder emptying as Charlotte didn't quite make it for the second time that morning.
Now free to act, Hope began to survey the damage. The toilet was surrounded by a veritable sea of urine, and a scattering of puddles followed a thin trail out the door. The hallway beyond was scattered with slowly expanding and coalescing puddles, an assortment of droplets reaching a good ten metres down the corridor. Hope's panties were ruined, stretched out by the force of the pee passing through them and dyed yellow almost to their edges, where some white yet remained. Her dress, on the other hand, was only slightly damp, and the slight darkness near the crotch was already drying. She removed her panties and dropped them through Charlotte's legs into the toilet bowl, winking in response to Charlotte's startled expression. The continuing torrent quickly caught them and pushed them to the bottom of the bowl. She then took a mop from the cupboard next door and began cleaning up the puddles, mopping around the toilet as Charlotte continued peeing full-force.
After an inordinately long time, Charlotte's torrent finally began to slow, and she eventually finished off with a cluster of short spurts. Her clothing was mostly unscathed: her skirts were mostly short enough to be out of the way, nothing was visibly wet or yellowed, but her undermost skirt was damp in places; her greaves and sabatons were wet, but could be fairly easily cleaned, and the panties she'd removed were soaking but not seriously stained and could be saved with a quick wash. On the other hand, her socks were unsalvageable, yellow rivulets clearly running down their sides and the entire foot area was damp and very yellow. She could hide them under her sabatons for now, but she'd not be able to wear them again. She flushed the toilet just as Hope finished mopping, and the two girls left the toilet to begin their journey. Charlotte collected her shed armour and clothing as they passed, wincing as the now-cold wetness of her underwear came back into contact with her crotch.
Hope led the way to the freight warehouse, where her carriage was waiting. A red-haired girl sat on the driver's seat and waved as they approached. "Joy, this is Charlotte. She's going to be our guard for our journey to the east. Charlotte, this is my little sister, Joy."
"Hi miss, are you a knight? Why aren't you at the castle? What do those iron roses mean? Why are you doing guard duty for merchants? Can you use magic? Do you know the queen?" The girl unleashed a torrent of questions, not stopping for answers before continuing.
"Joy, leave our new guard alone. How do you expect her to answer questions if you ask another one straight away? Honestly. Charlotte, I'll fill a bucket with water so you can wash up. Joy, find the stablehand and tell him which horses we're taking. We'll be leaving in five." The young redhead ran off toward the stables as Hope filled up a bucket. Charlotte removed her panties, sabatons and greaves, placed her panties in the water to soak, and began washing each plate of armour in turn, drying them carefully to prevent them from rusting. As she worked, the carriage began moving, and the trio began their journey northward towards Narcissa.
Edited September 20, 2020 by redlaw
(see edit history) |
Hi, I know it's taken me a long time to continue with this story, but I'd like to assure everyone that it's still ongoing. I have another chapter completed - this was supposed to be a short interlude before the next plot heavy bit, but it ended up being longer than I expected and another chapter completing this travel section will probably be done fairly soon. I'm not exactly happy with how this chapter turned out, but it'll do to bring us to where I want to end up, and delaying it further isn't going to help.
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Retrieving her panties from the bucket, Charlotte waved her hand at them, summoning a blast of hot air which quickly dried them out. She slipped them back on, and began to don her clean armour once more. Her bladder panged mildly as she stood, once again abnormally soon after her recent voiding. She hoped it was just some sort of irritation after her eventful morning which would fade in short order, but she resolved to see if there was a doctor she could talk to in Narcissa if she didn't improve during her travels.
Pulling aside the wagon's curtain, she crawled through to the driver's bench and took a seat beside Hope, who was currently driving the horses. “All cleaned up?” the girl asked rhetorically. “Good. We just left the extended Blossholm administrative area, where knights from the capital regularly patrol, and are officially in the countryside. We'll reach the first waystation in a few hours, and after that, Joy will go to sleep in the wagon so that she's ready to take over for the night shift. We'll stop for an hour or so at the third waystation, when we exchange horses, then we should reach Narcissa by late tomorrow morning.”
Seeing a flash of motion out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte's head jerked around just in time to watch Joy dive into a patch of long grass a short way from the road. The girl quickly scrambled to her feet, her hands cupped together tightly. She looked toward the wagon, and released her hands as she saw Charlotte sitting next to her sister, the cricket she'd captured quickly hopping to freedom as she called out “KNIGHT LADY!”.
What followed was a flurry of questions about life as a knight and in the castle. Charlotte tried to answer as best as she could, but the tide of questions was unrelenting and she looked to Hope for help as the topic drifted to minutiae such as “how many people walk through the main gates in an average day?”.
The older girl stepped in with “Honestly Joy, how do you expect her to answer something like that? That's enough questions, now how about you go and show Charlotte the cargo manifest and help her decide which cargo should be first on the list of stuff to negotiate with if we encounter any bandits.”
“Okay!” The redhead dashed around to the back of the wagon, shouting “this way, come on!” Charlotte dropped down from the bench, her armour clattering as she landed, and followed the endlessly energetic girl around the vehicle.
The girl had a clipboard in her hand with a sheaf of papers detailing the contents of the various crates that were piled onto the wagon. She danced over and thrust the board in Charlotte's face as she approached, before jumping up onto the wagon and bouncing towards a stack of boxes. “Bandits tend to like taking things that are easy to carry and have a lot of value. They usually travel over rough ground to avoid patrols, so hijacking isn't common. We have crates full of metals that are quite valuable, but I don't think the bandits would want them because they're difficult to carry without a wagon. This stack of crates over here contains luxury clothing and is probably the sort of thing they might prefer. You'll be taking charge of negotiations if it comes to it, so this is the sort of thing you should be offering. We also have food stored in these darker-coloured crates, I hear they sometimes prefer to take that when they need it.” Joy darted between crates as she spoke, never standing still for even a moment. She continued on with various comments about the sorts of things the knight should be doing when negotiating, still bouncing about energetically as Charlotte listened carefully.
“...now if you'll excuse me, I have more crickets to catch. Later.” the girl finished impatiently, dropping into an entirely unnecessary curtsey and running off. Charlotte looked through the manifest, familiarising herself with the contents of some of the crates Joy had gestured to, before returning to the front of the wagon and seating herself once more beside Hope. The journey continued, and the two girls chatted idly as Joy continued playing around a short distance away. Charlotte's bladder continued filling, still a lot faster than she was used to, and she soon began to squirm subtly as she conversed...
“Are you alright?” Hope interjected as her movements became noticeable. “You look kind of uncomfortable, is something wrong?”
“Aah, uh, n- no, I'm fine...” Charlotte replied, mildly startled. “I- it's just... how long will it be until we reach the first waystation?”
“What, do you need to pee again already?!” the merchant girl asked incredulously, prompting Charlotte to blush and look away. “It should take us about another hour, if all goes according to plan. We shan't be there long, but you should have plenty of time to attend to your... awkwardly frequent... personal needs.” Put out about the jibes though she was, Charlotte calmed somewhat at that answer – she was not yet so desperate that she was concerned about waiting another hour.
Joy soon bounced over to the wagon, announcing that she was going to check on the cargo, and she disappeared around the back as quickly as she'd appeared. At the sound of rustling behind her, Charlotte peered surreptitiously through a gap in the curtain, and was surprised to see Joy bent over in a right-angle at the waist, with her legs double-crossed, her eyes closed and a tensed grimace on her face. One hand was thrust deep into her crotch, visibly clawing at her shorts, and the other was pressed against a crate for balance. Clearly, she was desperate for the toilet, despite running about seemingly carefree moments earlier. As Charlotte spied, intrigued, she relaxed slightly and started poking aimlessly through the crate in front of her with her free hand, remaining doubled over and waving her pert buttocks in the air as she squirmed.
Noting Charlotte's attentiveness, Hope quietly commented “Hehe, surprised? To Joy, 'I'm going to check on the cargo' means 'My need to pee has gotten to the point that running around with boundless excitement is no longer sufficient to hide my pee dancing and I need to go somewhere out of sight so that I can more obviously hold myself without anyone seeing.' She's needed to go since before we set off, but you probably couldn't tell. As she intended, you likely attributed all her bouncing around to just having a lot of energy; it's only because I've known her so long that I can tell when she needs to go. When we reach the station, would you let her go first? She'll probably dash ahead of you anyway, but she's gone to 'check on the cargo' sooner than usual, and I don't know whether she'll be able to maintain her usual speed by the time we get there. In fact, I don't even know if she'll still be dry...”
Charlotte continued watching as the girl shoved a hand into her shorts pocket and started jumping up and down with her legs double crossed, her fingers visibly moving under the fabric as she reached for her crotch. The rudeness of spying on someone like that was completely lost to her, caught up in the excitement of the struggle as she was, her own discomfort pushed to the back of her mind while she focused on the spectacle. She started and looked away, suddenly self-conscious, as Hope leaned over once more and began to whisper “Tell me when she's leaning against something or on the floor so I can speed up a bit without making her stumble”. Turning back, she saw that the redhead had dropped to her knees and was grinding against her heel, so she nudged Hope, who tapped the horses lightly with her whip, coaxing them into moving faster.
Joy remained on the floor, grinding against her heel, for a few minutes, before rising unsteadily to her feet and lumbering towards another crate. She removed the lid and began looking through the contents, aimlessly acting out the excuse she'd made, squirming slightly while she worked. Charlotte's own bladder began to make itself known as the excitement faded, and the knight shivered as she crossed her legs tightly. She was still confident she'd make it to the waystation, but it was becoming a closer and closer thing as she continued to fill with unpredictable rapidity.
Joy, on the other hand, was far less confident. She was nearly leaking into her underwear, and knew that there was still some time to go before they reached the waystation. A spasm built as she absent-mindedly counted objects in an arbitrary crate she selected to make her excuse more convincing, and she gasped quietly as urine rushed to the tip of her urethra, straining against her opening. She staggered back and shoved a hand into her pocket, reaching toward her crotch from the side, but she only succeeded in pulling on her sphincter, causing the waiting pee to dribble out and dampen her panties. Her bladder spasmed again in response to the sensation of liquid passing from her, and she pulled her pocket upward to force the seat of her shorts against her vulva. The added pressure of the cloth against her was enough to tip the balance, and nothing more leaked as the peak of the spasm passed. The contractions continued at a reduced intensity, and the girl placed her other hand in its pocket and began to stagger aimlessly around the cramped wagon floor as she strained against them.
A jolt in the road surprised her as she moved, and she fell against a stack of boxes. The impact forced a splash of urine into her underwear, leaving a large wet area hidden beneath her shorts. She bent double as the liquid flowed out, jamming one hand straight into her crotch and reaching around behind with the other. As the spurt left off, she fiddled with the button of her shorts, releasing it and fully unzipping them, relieving some pressure, but leaving her striped panties and their wet spot on view to anyone who might be looking.
Charlotte stifled a gasp as the girl unzipped her shorts, revealing her faux pas, and turned to Hope, whispering “it's not looking good, how much longer?”
“Not long now, about five minutes.” She answered reassuringly.
The knight turned back toward the curtain, watching as the desperate redhead shoved both hands beneath her panties and started stumbling about. A couple of droplets were visible, slowly working their way down her inner thigh. Charlotte's own bladder spasmed suddenly, and she shifted to sitting on her heel as the pressure battered against her sphincter.
A cluster of buildings came into view on the right, and a collection of carts and carriages were parked just up ahead. “Joy, we're here!” Hope called over her shoulder. “Charlotte said she needs the toilet, could you show her where it is for me?”
“J- just a minute!” a quiet voice called back. Charlotte watched surreptitiously as the girl zipped up her shorts, wincing as she fumbled with the button, then did a frantic dance with both hands in her crotch before tensing in place for ten seconds, then releasing her grip and straightening up as much as possible. She slowly minced over to the rear of the wagon, carefully sliding down to the ground. Moments later, she appeared by the driver's bench, stepping awkwardly with her thighs staying together.
Charlotte jumped to the ground, realising her mistake when her bladder contracted violently and forced her into a curtsey. Her hand reached toward her crotch, bouncing against her armour as she balled it into a fist. “If you need to g- go that bad, I- I'll let you go first” the leaking redhead quipped as she watched the knight's obvious display. Behind the girl, Hope facepalmed and locked eyes with her co-conspirator, shrugging defeatedly. The pair set off toward a small building, offset from the main area. All the energy Joy had before was gone, and Charlotte had to walk slowly to not get ahead of the girl waddling along beside her. Her hands were tented against her crotch, pressing subtly into her shorts without making a scene of it, and she was bent slightly forward with her thighs rubbing together.
The toilet building had an open entrance on one corner, which led to a corridor that followed the length of the wall, terminating in a door on the right wall of the corridor which led to the toilet proper. The girls approached the open entrance with Joy in the lead, Charlotte intentionally hanging behind to give the girl the opportunity to dash straight in and forget about her offer. The redhead stopped as she reached the corridor, a momentary flash of fear visible on her face. As Charlotte rounded the corner, she beheld the problem: the way was blocked by a cleaning sign, and the door was locked to prevent access. “Haha, l- looks like we're going to have to w- wait a bit, I hope you didn't need to g- go that bad” the girl mocked unconvincingly as she leaned against the wall, pulling her shorts up too far as she crossed her legs.
Joy's attempts to hide her situation got rapidly worse as they waited beside the corridor. She soon started pacing awkwardly, squirming with each step, pressing her forearms into her crotch as she contorted. Stopping suddenly, she removed her arms and double crossed her legs, bending in a half-squat as she thrust her interlocked hands behind her. Charlotte heard a slight trickling noise and watched as a couple droplets ran down the girl's legs. Her eyes filled with tears as she slowly began to lose the battle raging in her loins. “C- c- could you l- l- let m- me go f- first instead?” the redhead squeaked quietly, looking up at the knight, her eyes wide with fear. Charlotte nodded silently, and relief flashed momentarily onto Joy's face, quickly being replaced with pain as she continued pacing around.
Another spasm, and Joy crossed her legs tightly with her hands balled into fists by her side. The pattering of water against fabric reached Charlotte's ears as the girl's shorts filled with liquid. A dark wet patch grew rapidly on the crotch, spreading out leftward where it terminated in droplets that squeezed through the thick fabric. Liquid cascaded from the leg holes of the garment, dripping down her legs and onto the floor. Her eyes widened as she realised the scale of the accident, and she shoved her hands into her waistband as she desperately tried to prevent more leaking. In spite of her efforts, she continued to spurt audibly as a puddle began to form between her feet. Taking one last look at the cleaning sign, she began to fiddle with her button in a panic, releasing it as she began to waddle toward the back of the building, a wet trail glistening behind her. She hooked her thumbs into her waistbands as she staggered along, pulling them down just enough to reveal a golden stream running between her legs. The stream quickly grew into a torrent, and in a single motion, still in full view beside the toilets, she pulled her clothes to her knees and dropped into a squat, shooting her golden spray forward.
Charlotte looked away as the girl relieved herself, unable to bear the sight of urine splashing about while she needed to go. She began unlacing her armour as the torrent continued, letting her plate-skirt drop to the floor as it came undone, preparing herself for when the doors opened. The accident beside her quickly slowed to a trickle – clearly not coming from a particularly capacious organ – and a clattering sound came from behind the toilet door. The idea of an impending release and the trickling sound of nearby urination combined in the knight's mind to trigger a series of violent contractions, and she lifted her skirts and shoved her hands into her underwear as an old woman stumbled into the hallway with a veritable mountain of cleaning supplies in her arms. Waves of desperation crashed against the now-less-armoured girl as she watched the cleaner totter unhurriedly down the corridor, and she danced furiously on the spot, waiting to pass.
The cleaner eyed her her obvious display with contempt as she cleared the hallway, but Charlotte was beyond caring as she staggered along to her relief. She pulled her panties down to her knees as she approached the door, and a short jet of urine shot unbidden to the floor as she crossed the threshold. She lifted the lid before her and turned away from the bowl, launching herself bum-first toward the waiting porcelain. A golden spray began to shoot out of her as she turned, splashing out to the side in an arc, leaving a yellow puddle on the newly-clean tiles. The shock of landing on the toilet caused her stream to reinforce into a thunderous torrent, and she relaxed as she peed full-force into the water beneath her.
As liquid lanced out of her, she looked nervously at the door that stood open in front of her, but the length of the hallway was sufficient to shield her from view, and the loud hiss echoing down it clearly indicated that the toilet was in use. She sat for nearly five minutes, vast quantities of urine pouring from her unremarkably-proportioned body, and for the first time, she had the opportunity to consider just how absurd the quantities of fluid she was producing had become...
Like most with great magical capacity, she produced vast quantities of urine that sat, seemingly unphysically, in a bladder of ordinary size. This was as normal to her as it was to other magically capable people – she didn't understand the reasoning behind it, but was not a new phenomenon. The issue that drew her attention was that she was now urinating even more than before, and yet her frequency had increased dramatically. She had to be producing more than double the amount of urine she normally did, and she knew that this had to have begun very recently, because only last night she managed to go a full night without using the toilet before sleeping.
It was well-known (though not usually explicitly taught to students) that the amount of urine one produces is directly related to the capacity one has for using magic and the power they're able to achieve with spells, and as she mulled this over, her attention was drawn to the sword at her hip. Could her increased urine production be related to the magic-augmenting enchantment on her sword? It was certainly possible, but she didn't have the expertise in enchantment to say for sure. Fortunately, Narcissa, with its famous University, was the perfect place to find someone to ask about this, and so as her stream finally began to weaken, she resolved to find a virgamancer to talk to when she reached the city.
She looked around as she squirted a few final splashes of urine into the bowl, and was mortified to note the puddles that now marred the otherwise pristine surfaces of the newly-cleaned bathroom. After wiping herself, she grabbed a few extra lengths of toilet paper and set to work soaking up the golden wetness around her, diligently cleaning every last drop and leaving the bathroom as spotless as she assumed it was when she entered. The cleaner, who was waiting outside, glared daggers at her as she left, and Charlotte allowed herself a slight smile at the thought of having fooled the woman. |
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Emma's holding day part 1
(English is not my first language so sorry for any spelling or grammar related mistakes)
18 year old female, 1.63 m, blond hair, big butt and cup c breasts, bladder capacity: biggest of the school, could easily hold 2 liters
Monday, I said to myself as I was looking through my school schedule. It was the best day to do it, only one double hour to embarras myself if I couldn't hold it and had to ask my teacher. I had been wanting to do a pee hold where I would pee the last time before I went to bed and then hold it till after school, but hadn't been able to bring myself to do it.
Sunday evening arrived and I took my last pee, took a shower, took another pee and went to bed. I couldn't sleep, my thoughts on the excitement tommorow would hold. It was midnight when I got really thirsty, and without really thinking about it, drank 2 full 200 mL glasses of water. And fell asleep quickly after.
'Morning' , my mom said, after which she walked away to make me some breakfast. I noticed I already had to pee a bit, which worried me a little. 'I never have to pee when I wake up, maybe it's just the nerves.' I continued with my regular morning routine, and had some scrambled egg and toast for breakfast, with 2 cups of coffee and a large 300 mL glass of water. 'Let's make this a proper challenge,' I thought to myself. I hopped on my bicycle and went to school, it was a 30 minute ride from my house, which was very long in comparison to how close by my classmates lived.
When I arrived at school my boyfriend was waiting for me, he had been sick for 2 weeks now, so I hadn't planned on him returning today. 'Hey Emma! I have fully recovered from my flu!' he said. 'Why didn't you send me a message?' I asked. 'I wanted to surprise you, something wrong with that?' 'No of course not, good to see you!' I lied to him. I really didn't want him to see me desperate, I have wanted to tell him about my fetish ever since he became my boyfriend 3 years ago, but I was always too shy whenever I was about to say it. Our first lesson was chemistry, 30 minutes into the lesson I realized that I forgot to drink a water bottle; I had planned to drink a 200 mL bottle every lesson I had today. I quickly drank my bottle and refilled it 10 minutes later when the lesson ended. Next hour flew by since it was English, an easy subject for me. Finished the second water bottle of the day, and went to the next class, which was Latin. I began to feel an urge to pee, but I was still fine. I realized that if I wanted to be on the edge of peeing myself when I got home, I had to drink alot more. So I drank my current water bottle and when my 20 minute break started, I went to the bathroom and filled up both bottles I had with me. 2 bottles per lesson from now on. I drank another bottle during break and went to my next class, economy. When I was drinking my bottle of water, my boyfriend Jake suddenly asked: 'Do you never have to pee if you drink that much?' My heartbeat sped up. "Did he discover me?" I thought to myself. 'Yeah I do, but I have a huge bladder so I can hold it. ' I said playfully, hoping he would follow up on his previous question. 'Why hold it? If you have to go you have to go right?' Jake asked. 'Yeah but the toilets here at school are filthy, just like all other public toilets.' I replied. Jake new this wasn't the real reason. He had been watching his girlfriend closely and new she intentionally held her pee for long times, Jake loved to see her desperate, but he would love it even more if he could control her. And make her wait longer than she thought she could. But he kept quiet for now.
We went to our next class, I started to get a little bit worried. My need to pee had went u drastically since last lesson and now I had to actively squeeze my urethra to hold all that boiling pee in. But I could still manage with ease. The lesson was electronics, a class I thoroughly enjoyed. I was working on my project and the double hour flew by, I drank my 4 bottles of water and by the end of the lesson all the water I drank started to catch up to me. When I stood up I realised I still had to pee. I quickly sat down again and crossed my legs. 'Wow has it gotten this bad already, I'm only 2/3 of the day in. After 10 seconds of squeezing I could stand up again, and walk to our next class. I new it wasn' t gonna be easy to get home dry.
Jake's perspective:
Damn she's hot, Jake thought to himself as he watched her squeeze and cross her legs at the end of electronics. Her sexy smooth legs were almost fully visible, her skirt had slid up a bit during the lesson and almost her whole thighs were visible, oh how bad he wanted to touch her right now. But not now, not at school.
Walking to the cantine Jake could see how stressed Emma was, she was tapping her foot, and pacing while waiting in line for our food, but Jake new she wasn't full yet, he had seen her bladder bulging out more before. After they received their food they walked to a table and put their food down, when Emma said: 'I'm gonna go fill my water bottles real quick.' Exactly what Jake had hoped for. He grabbed his bag and pulled out the extreme diuretics he bought yesterday, he hoped to make her desperate today, but now that she did it for him, this was too easy. He read what the description said:'1 tablet per day to increase kidneys urine production.' Jake wanted to put 3 in, but decided against it. 2 would do the job, let's not poison her on accident. He put the 2 tablets into her 500 mL coke and shook the bottle a few times, when he was sure it had fully dissolved. He put the bottle down and continued to eat like nothing happened.
Emma's perspective:
After Emma was done filling up her bottles, she walked back to the cantine. She sat down and started eating, talking with Jake about last weekend. When she drank her coke, she noticed a faint weird smell, but thought nothing of it. 'Maybe it's just old coke' she thought. After lunch time they had 3 lessons to go, during the first of those, French, she had to start crossing her legs all the time, she felt so full by now that her full attention was on keeping her urethra shut.
By the end of the lesson she was getting worried, her bladder was filling way faster than before, what was happening to her!? Even though this concerned her alot, she kept drinking her 2 bottles and finished them, she now couldnt stop fidgeting and she kept changing positions and rocking back and forward in her chair. 'Only two lessons to go Emma, you got this.' she said to herself. When the bell rang she had to give her pussy a quick squeeze before she stood up, her skirt was pushing down on her bladder alot now. And she pulled her skirt up as high as she could, so that the waistband would be above her bladder.
After French she had maths. The teacher mr. Johnson was notoriously strict and during his lessons you better not make any sounds. Emma sat down, and started working, but she couldn't stop herself from fidgeting, her need was increasing very rapidly. 15 minutes into the class she accidentally moved her chair back while rocking back and forward and hit another chair behind her. This created a loud noise and the math teacher said: 'Emma, you know what that means, last chance or you get detention, if I see one more movement coming from you you get detention. Do you understand?' 'Yes sir,' Emma said nervously. 'Just 25 minutes sitting still Em, you can do this.' It took all her strength to not fidget and keep her urethra shut, but 5 minutes left in class she had to put her hand in her crotch, mr. Johnson saw this, but he decided not to act. Mr. Johnson was actually into omorashi, and was waiting his whole life to see something like this in his lessons. He was incredibly aroused by seeing Emma with her nude thighs holding her crotch. 'Emma.' he said, 'come show me what you've done so far this lesson.'
Emma stood up slowly to not disrupt her bladder and walked to mr. Johnsons desk. She new however what he would say, she hadn't done anything since the start of this lesson because she couldnt concentrate. Mr. Johnson said to her: 'come on Emma, I know you can do better, you'll get another chance in detention.'No sir please, I have to.... I need to...go to the dentist after school.'Good try Emma, see you in this classroom after PE. 'PE?! I thought we had Greek?' emma said in panicky voice. 'I heard your Greek teacher was sick and that you could do PE with the other class. 'Oh,' Emma said. And she walked back to her seat.
To be continued |
'You like it don't you?.. Holding your pee.' Jake said while walking to their lockers after PE. 'What n-no I don't! I swear!' Emma replied nervously. 'Yes you do Emma, I've seen you holding your pee for long amounts of time while there were toilets available' Jake said unconvinced. 'W-well, yeah... you're right, ' said Emma 'please don't hate me now.' "No of course not! I.... actually love seeing you squirm." Emma blushed. 'There is one problem Jake, the challenge was to hold my pee till I got home, but I'm not sure I can do that now that we have PE.' Emma said whilest squeezing here thighs. 'I might have the perfect solution.' Jake said while grabbing something from his bag. 'Bladder strengthning pills!' Jake smiled. 'Why do you have those on you?' Emma said with a confused look. 'Uum for... if I have to go and there's no toilet around.' Jake said as convincingly as he could. Had Emma not been so desperate she would have followed up on her first question, but she was occupied with holding her massive flood of boiling piss in. 'A-alright give me one.' Emma said. Little did she know these pills were just fake pills that did nothing. Jake just wanted her to keep holding. After taking the pill with some water, they went their separate way to the changing rooms.
"Man I hope these pills work quickly," Emma thought to herself. "I can barely walk like this." She changed out of her skirt and put on her leggings. These were a bit tighter around her waist, and Emma moaned from the extra pressure it applied. 'Are you alright Emma?' another girl in the changing room asked. 'Y-yeah I'm good.' Emma said while forcing a smile. Emma bounced and crossed her legs constantly before she stood up and started walking to the gym room where Jake was already waiting for her. 'You really have to go don't you?' Jake grinned. 'Here drink some more.' Jake handed her a 500 mL bottle of water. Emma started drinking without hesitation, sure that she would be able to hold her pee.
The gym teacher walked in and started explaining what they were going to do today. 'We'll start with a quick warming up. Run in circles around the edge of the room until I say we're done.' Everyone stood up except Emma. She squeezed her peephole for a quick second before she stood up. She started running, but she had greatly underestimated how hard this would be. Every step felt like a bomb exploded in her bladder. Her whole body was tingling from the shockwaves and she felt a bit light headed. The pent up pee inside her bladder was sloshing around inside her. 'When I say jump you make the highest jump you can alright.' the gym teacher said. 'Jump!' Emma jumped and as she landed she trembled, the pain was hard to endure. But she fought on. After the 4 rounds and 5 jumps had ended, Emma quickly sat down on the bench and crossed her leg to gain control over her bladder. 'Next we are going to do some physical activities.' the teacher said. 'I've set up a course in the gym below us. One half of the group goes there and starts to do that. And the other half stays here for a game of football.' Emma got picked to stay for the game of football first. Jake was also picked to stay for football. 'You all know the rules of football, so just start and have fun.' the teacher said. Emma chose to be in a team with Jake and a few other people. She was subtly pee dancing on the spot with crossed legs. 'Ow does a girl need a wee wee.' Jake said in a teasing voice. 'Shut up Jake, I've been holding it since yesterday evening and I've drank so much water. Let me concentrate on holding.' Emma said, a little bit annoyed. After playing football for 10 minutes the other group got called up and now it was Emma and Jake's group turn to do the physical course.
Emma expected to be there without a teacher, but another gym teacher was standing there. 'Emma can you be the example for this one?' the teacher asked. 'S-sure.' Emma said. 'Good, go sit here and put your legs here and try to push them out as far as you can with your hands above your head.' Emma sat down with everybody looking at her. She started pushing her legs out but immediately put them back together and groaned. 'What's wrong Emma?' The teacher asked. 'Here, I'll help you.' the teacher grabbed her knees and helped push them outwards. Emma's legs were now in a 90 degree hook. 'Now hold this position for 10 seconds please.' Emma need to pee was now so great that her face was turning red from the effort to hold her pee in. Her massive bladder pushing down on her sphincter with an ungodly pressure. Despite all her efforts a little dribble escaped. She quickly closed her legs. 'Good enough.' The teacher said. 'Okay everyone choose an excersise and start.' Emma looked around, nobody had seen her leak. She inspected the damage but saw nothing. She put her hand on her crotch and gave it a good squeeze for 10 seconds. 'Had some trouble there huh?' Jake said. 'I'm fine Jake, with my legs closed I can still easily hold off.' Emma said.
After another 15 minutes of faking an exersice the lesson was finally over. Emma had felt her bladder becoming bigger and bigger and now she wasn't so confident anymore. She walked to the changing room and took her leggings and shirt off. 'Psst Emma,' Katie (a good friend of Emma) said. 'I think your period started.' pointing at her panties. 'Do you need something?' Emma quickly looked down and saw a very small wet patch the size of a small marble. 'N-no I'm fine I got some myself.' Emma said embarrassed, quickly putting on her skirt and walking to the toilet. She locked herself in and waited for the rest of the girls to leave. The sight of the toilet increasing her need. She was now putting a hand on her crotch and pee dancing, because nobody could see her. But she was still determined to hold her pee. About 2 minutes later she walked out of the locker room to see Jake standing there. 'Let's quickly go home, you can come with me to my house if you want.' Emma said. 'You have detention remember?' Jake said. 'Mr. Johnson is not gonna appreciate if you are late, you better hurry up!' |
Emma slowly walked towards her locker, walking was getting more and more difficult. She had to walk leaning forward a bit because of her bulging mammoth bladder. Jake had never seen anything like this before, he had seen Emma needing to pee, but this was on a whole nother level. Her bladder looked like a small football. But Jake was sure Emma could hold alot more. She would not get to pee, he promised himself.
Emma opened her locker, opened it, grabbed her vest, put her books in her bag and closed the locker. When Emma walked towards Jake's locker she saw him standing there talking to Matt, a good friend of his. 'Jake we have to go now, hurry up please.' Emma said to Jake. 'Matt will cycle together with us for the first 10 minutes of our ride home, he lives on the way to your place, is that okay?' Jake asked knowing Emma wouldn't like not being able to show her desperation. 'Yeah sure.' Emma said, not wanting to be rude. 'I'm gonna take a quick pee before we leave.' Matt said. 'Can't it wait?' Emma said annoyed. 'No, I have to go pretty badly, last time i went was like 5 hours ago.' Matt said and he turned around and started walking to the toilet. "Amateur" Emma thought to herself, while rubbing her distended bladder with 19 hours worth of pee inside of it. The dried up leak from detention started feeling cold against her wet labia. This only increased her desperation. She heared the toilet flush and saw Matt walking out of the toilets. 'Alright lets go.' Emma said while swiftly turning around and walking towards the bikes. Emma sat down on her saddle, making sure to put her skirt around the edges of the saddle so that she could press the saddle into her crotch. The first few minutes went on without alot of effort for Emma. The constant pressure against her pussy helped alot. She could feel small waves of pain at every bump, but she had to hold on. 'Why don't we get a nice drink at the kiosk in my street?' Matt asked out of nowhere. 'Yeah good idea!' Jake replied before Emma could say anything. Emma, not wanting to upset Jake's friend, faked a smile and said: 'Sure.' They arrived at the kiosk and put away their bikes. Emma immediately crossed her legs and leaned forward. 'Are you alright Emma?' Matt said looking concerned. 'Y-yeah I'm good.' Emma said softly. But in reality, she was far from good. She had to pee so bad, her poor bladder holding an ungodly amount of urine. But she had to endure.
Matt purchased a large coke for all three of them and they sat down at the nearest table. Emma made sure to sit opposite to Matt so that she could use a hand to grip her crotch. She felt much better this way. 'How was PE? I heard you had PE with the other class.' Matt asked Jake and Emma. 'It was alright, we didn't do anything particularly exciting, just some football and after that we did some physical training. How did your English test go today?' Jake returned. 'Meh, I didn't have enough time to learn yesterday, but it still went alright. I'm sure I'll get at least a 6.' Matt replied. Emma couldn't concentrate on the conversation, she drank from her coke. The cold liquid made her need increase, but with her hand on her crotch, it was nothing she couldn't manage. When all three of them finished their cokes they walked back to their bikes, Matt waved Jake and Emma goodbye and cycled to his house. 'Lets get going.' Jake said. 'I think that's a good idea.' Emma said tapping her bladder. They both laughed and continued cycling towards Emma's house. The added drink started to flow into Emma's already distended bladder. She started to feel very uncomfortable even with the pressure the saddle of her bike applied. After another 10 minutes of cycling the road started to get steep. The first 20 minutes of the ride had been mostly flat, but from here on the road would get pretty steep. In the morning Emma could go down here full speed, but when she came back from school after a long tiring day, this last climb was very annoying. And in Emma's current state, going uphill with a bike was even more difficult. Emma's breaths had become very heavy and her legs felt exhausted. But after a few minutes of intense cycling they were now past the steepest part and from here on it was almost flat to her home. Emma looked forward to take her long pee, she fantasised on how long her pee would be. She was sure she would break her record, because she had neer gone this far with her desperation. She always gave up when it became too uncomfortable. She thought on how good it would feel to let all of that hot pee out....... Suddenly Emma heard a car slam on the breaks. 'Emma watch out!!!' Jake shouted. Emma was only just able to dodge the car by pulling hard on her steering wheel. But her bladder didn't like the sudden movement and a quick spurt of pee managed to make it's way past her iron spincter. 'Whoah, that was close!' Emma said to Jake. 'I didn't see the car coming, I was thinking about how good it would feel to pee.' Emma laughed. 'Hah, you better watch out before you get yourself killed.' Jake said.
They finally saw Emma's house up in the distance. 'There it is!' Emma said excited and she started cycling faster, but then slowed down again feeling a strong wave of desperation hit her. 'Whoops, not too fast Emma' She laughed. Emma and Jake locked their bikes in the front yard. Emma looked for her keys and found them pretty quickly. 'Haha phew, in these type of situations you always see characters not being able to find their keys in those stories.' Emma joked, but quickly regretted saying that. "I'm so stupid, of course he doesn't know what I'm talking about. No one reads the weird fetish stuff I read." She thought to herself. 'Oh that, do you sometimes read pee desperation stories too?' Jake asked a bit embarresed. 'Yes I do!' Emma replied relieved. 'Nice.' Jake said smiling. Emma opened the door and walked inside. She greeted her mom and told her Jake was with her too. She put down her bag and took off her shoes. Jake did the same. Emma quickly walked towards the door of the toilet with one hand squeezing her vagina. But Jake blocked her. 'Wha......!' 'I think you can hold it a bit longer. You don't look desperate enough to me.' Jake said coldly. 'No Jake please! I really have to go, you have got to be kidding me! I have held my pee for 20 hours now!' Emma said frustrated. 'If you really wanted to hold more you could Emma. Have you ever peed yourself involuntarily?' Jake asked. 'N-no, but I'm going to if you don't let me past.' Emma tried to push Jake aside, but to no avail. 'You are a big girl Emma, you can surpress such a shameful need as urinating.' Jake said. 'Arghh, okay then. I'll hold it for you.' Emma said. Jake walked to the fridge and grabbed a full bottle of water. 'Lets go upstairs.' Jake said smiling widely. When they got to Emma's room they sat down on her couch. 'Why don't you put on some comfy pants? It will be much easier to hold your pee in one of those.' Jake asked Emma. 'Sure, good idea.' She replied as she walked towards her closet. She was doing a pee dance on the spot while looking for some yogging pants with one hand. Because the other one was deeply buried in her crotch. She chose her light gray yogging pants and started unbuttoning her tight skirt. The yogging pants weren't too loose, but around her waist they were pretty wide, so it should give her bladder some more room. Immediately after Emma got out of her skirt her bladder bulged out. 'Whoah, your bladder looks like a friggin football or something.' Jake blurted out with a surprised look on his face. 'And I see you didn't make it here completely dry.' He said grinning. 'Yeah, I first leaked once during PE, when the teacher opened my legs. Then once during detention, that asshole didn't allow me to cross my legs! And I also leaked a bit when that car almost hit me.' Emma's need to pee increased thinking about this and her hand shot to her crotch pressing her cute laced cyan panties into her slit. She put on her fresh pants and sat down besides Jake. They both sat on their phones for a while and Emma slowely sipped from the bottle of water Jake had given her. She was constantly bouncing her leg, crossing and uncrossing them and she had her hand glued to her crotch. After 15 minutes of sitting like this Jake said something. 'Why don't we go to the cinema, here look, the new film we wanted to see starts in 45 minutes.' 'Are you crazy!? Do you want me to go like this?!' Emma said. 'Yeah why not, no one will pay attention to you when the film is playing. Besides, there have been almost no seats sold, so we can sit far away from everybody.' Jake returned. Emma didn't know what got into her, but she finally agreed. 'The bus leaves in 10 minutes, so we better get our stuff and tell your mom.'
to be continued |
Part 5
When Jake closed the door behind her Emma felt nervous all over again, the safety of a bathroom nearby was now gone and standing up wasn't helping either. She felt like she had made a mistake by agreeing to go to the cinema, but there was nothing she could do about it now. He would let her pee before the movie right?
Jake had different plans, he had already started looking for a place to have dinner after the movie and he would not let Emma pee. He knew that if she really wanted to hold on she could. The only thing Jake's mind could think about was how sexy Emma was. How she walked with her thighs squeezed together, how both her hands were in her pockets squeezing her crotch and how she was walking bent forward. Jake could not see how big Emma's bladder was, but he knew it was huge. They arrived at the bus station and looked at the bus schedule. 'We're right on time, the bus arrives in 2 minutes.' Jake said. 'Good.' Emma said softly. 'Jake i have to pee sooooooo bad right now. It looks like I'm pregnant.' She sat down on a bench and put her hand into her pants for a quick second, but she quickly pulled her hand out when she saw the bus in the distance. They got onto the bus and seated themselves at the back. The only people on the bus were a elderly couple sitting in front of them and a guy with headphones sitting around the middle of the bus. 'How long does the bus take to get to the cinema?' Emma asked. 'Only 15 minutes.' Jake replied. 'Your doing great babe, I'm sure you can hold it.' He added trying to encourage her. The bus started going and Jake couldn't take his eyes of his beautiful girlfriend. To know she had been holding her pee for 21 hours and was not gonna get to pee for about 4 more hours was turning him on so much.
10 minutes into the journey and Jake couldn't help himself. He gently put his hand on Emma's bladder and very lightly pushed. 'Hey!' Emma squeeled. Her hand shot to her crotch but she didn't try to push Jake's hand away. Jake couldn't believe what he felt. Her bladder was so swollen hard that Jake thought he was touching a stone surface. Jake slowly slid his hand down and into Emma's panties. He gently touched Emma's shaved vagina and started pleasuring her. Emma couldn't help but moan softly, the pressure felt so good, but she grabbed Jake's arm and pulled it away. 'Not here Jake.' Emma said sounding a bit dissapointed herself. Jake agreed and he blushed. 'Sorry, I don't know what got into me, you look so sexy Emma.' he sad. Now it was Emma's turn to blush. 'Thanks.' She said softly.
The bus arrived at the cinema and Jake quickly stood up. Emma gathered her strenght and stood up. She tried to walk as normal as possible as they were entering the cinema. But she couldn't help crossing her legs every few steps and walking bent forward. Jake bought them both an extra large soda. 'We don't want to get dehydrated do we?' He said with a grin. Emma didn't say anything and took the drink. 'Let's go, the film starts in 5 minutes.' Jake said as he walked away towards the entrance of their film. Emma's eyes widened. 'B-but....' It was already too late, Jake couldnt hear her anymore and she realised he wanted her to keep holding. She wasn't sure how this was going to end but she started walking. 'You are acting like a child Emma. You can hold it longer, your a grown woman.' She said to herself. They sat down in the last row and took out their phones. Emma absentmindedly kept drinking from her soda and soon she had already finished half of it. The film hadn't even started yet. When the boring ads finished they put away their phones and the film started playing. Now that the doors were closed and no one could get into the film and sit next to them, Emma dared to put her hand into her pants so she could directly hold herself. Jake noticed but didn't say anything of it.
Emma was able to sort of concentrate on the film and it kept her mind from thinking about her massie bladder. A hand in her pants and crossed legs were enough for now. She kept drinking from her extra large drink and halfway through the film she had finished it. The film had a short 10 minute break halfway through and when the lights turned on Emma's bubble popped. She realised how much more desperate she had gotten and she bent forward and groaned. 'I'll go get us a refill.' Jake said as he took their empty drinks and he left to go to the film canteen. When Jake was out of sight Emma started squirming. She was subconscouisly still a bit embarresed to squirm so openly next to her boyfriend even though she knew he liked it. She was now very worried for the second half of the film, would she be able to hold it? Of course she could. Emma pushed the thought away. 'I can hold it as long as I want to.' She tried to convince herself. But she knew deep down that even she had her limits. Jake returned with the refilled drinks just as the film started again. He gave Emma her drink and she started drinking immediatly to show Jake how strong she was.
The second half of the film felt way longer to Emma. She was now not able to concentrate on the film at all and she had put her heel under herself for some added pressure on her peehole. She had never felt this full and it felt amazing and horrible at the same time. The insane pressure made her feel horny like she never felt before, she felt her panties moisten, but she knew it was not pee. She blushed at the sight of herself. "What am I doing." she thought to herself and she tried to concentrate on the film again. It worked for some minutes, but when the final 30 minutes of the film started Emma started to feel nervous. Was she going to make it?
Jake also couldn't concentrate on the film, he could only look at Emma. She squirmed like crazy and it was driving Jake nuts with desire. When the screen lit up because in the film it turned day. He could see how large Emma's bladder had gotten. It was so much bigger than before. He almost cummed in his pants from the sight of it. How was she holding so much? He questioned himself. Does she even have a limit? Jake promised himself that he was gonna find out. She will not pee.
The film dragged on as Emma finished her drink. Her hand was now directly on her pussy helping herself hold all that pee in. She had to hold on. She looked up from her bent over position to the film screen, when suddenly... A jumpscare. The shock almost made her lose it. A long spurt escaped her urethra before she regained control. Inspecting the damage she saw a wet spot the size of a ping pong ball. The wetness against her lady parts increased her desperation tenfolds. Tears formed in her eyes as a huge wave hit her. 'Jake I really don't know how much longer I can hold it.' She said. 'Don't act so silly Emma, you are gonna hold it till we're home. Your a big girl.' Jake said firmly. Emma was surprised at Jake's tone, but she didn't mind it. Being submissive had always been a huge turn on for her and she found herself feeling sexually excited once again. She continued holding with newfound strength and to her surprise the rest of the film finished rather quickly. They stood up and Jake went into the bathroom. 'Those 2 soda's have hit my bladder now too, gonna take a leak.' He said feeling his own bladder. 'No way, if I have to hold my pee untill we're home, you have to too.' Emma grabbed Jake's arm and took him to the exit. Jake didn't mind, he could still hold plenty more, he figured. 'Okay Emma so I was thinking we go get a nice dinner at the Italian restaurant 2 blocks that way.' Jake said. Emma's eyes widened in horror as she realised she had been tricked. No way was she giving up now. 'Sure.' Emma said confidently. She pressed her thighs together and they started walking. The waitress greeted them and pointed them to a seat somewhere in the corner. They thanked her and sat down at their table. Jake knew how notoriously slow the restaurant was and knew they would be here for at least 1 and a half hour. He ordered them both a large water and said to Emma: 'How are you feeling?' 'How I'm feeling? Oh I can tell you that. I feel so full that i think my bladder is gonna explode. It comes in waves and the only way I can hold it at this point is physically blocking my pee from escaping. The thought of this made Jake very horny. Her bladder was full to explode, but she wouldn't get to pee. Their drinks were given to them and they ordered their food. A large pizza for Jake and pasta for Emma.
to be continued |
Part 6 (sorry for the long wait, I didn't have enough inspiration or drive to do writing, but now I'm back at it again.)
As the waitress taking their order walked away, Emma started questioning how long she would still be able to hold it. She thought she was at her limit when they got home from school, but she was still holding on, altough barely. What were her true limits? Could she hold more than this? Her bladder sent a strong signal of distress while thinking about this and her hand shot back to her crotch after she had taken it away because of the waitress. Her body trembled as she fought a particulary strong urge. All her muscles were clenched and she somehow managed to keep pee from squirting out of her aching urethra.
Emma kept her hands on her crotch and kept her legs crossed. For the next 15 minutes she fought urge after urge waiting for the food to arrive. 'So Emma, how often do you hold in your pee for fun?' Jake asked. Emma woke up out of her trance and said: 'I do it all the time, but I had never previously dared to do it at school, like I did today. Although I never pee at school, I get only slightly desperate by the end of the day, so I usually do it in the weekends when nobody's home.' 'What's the longest you've ever held it for?' Jake followed up getting very excited. 'I once held my pee for 40 hours when I spent the weekend at my grandparent's home. We went there Friday evening and got back home Sunday morning. I drank way less than normal to be able to complete this challenge though. I was truly bursting when I got home on Sunday. My pee was very dark-yellow and I realized that it was very bad for you to drink that little and also the risk of getting a UTI that way is much higher. Since then I always drink alot during my holding challenges which reduced their lengths, so I have never been able to hold it for 40 hours again obviously.' Emma said. She was surprised how comfortable she was talking about this with Jake. It was only today that she had revealed her fetish to him. 'And did you ever try to measure how much pee you could hold? Do you think you have more pee inside you right now than you did back then?' Jake asked. 'I have measured myself before, multiple times actually, but my record was 2.7 liters. Although I think I'm easily holding 3 liters right now' Emma whimpered as another strong urge hit her when she was reminded of her current situation. She bent forward and massaged her distended abdomen that was bulging out up to her navel. She was shaking from the pressure inside.
Another 15 minutes went by with the same routine, grabbing her crotch, massaging her belly, rocking back and forward and crossing and uncrossing of her legs. 'When is this ******* food coming.' Emma said annoyed. 'Don't be so impatient Emma, even if they take another hour making our food we will simply wait and be respectful, but I think they will probably be done in around 20 minutes or so.' He said, sounding like a parent teaching their kids to be patient. 'Oh god Jake I really don't know if I can make it home. Look at my belly! I look pregnant!' 'Let me feel.' Jake said as he reached for Emma's bladder under the table. When his hand touched her rock hard bladder she flinched. Jake could feel the sheer amount of liquid stored inside as he gently moved his hand over her smooth skin. Finally he couldn't resist the temptation and he pushed slightly. Emma moaned at the increased pressure, the pressure of her bladder on her g spot making her feel horny. 'Put your hands on the table and uncross your legs.' Jake said with his hand still on Emma's bursting bladder. 'Jake I don't know if....' 'Do it!' Jake cut her off without mercy. 'Oh and spread your legs a little too will you.' He added. Emma slowely took her hand away from her pussy and uncrossed her legs. Her bladder contracted as she did so and she felt her pee in the tip of her urethra almost squirting out. 'Jake if I open my legs I will pee all over the restaurant floor.' Emma said in pain. 'I don't think so, you can hold it.' He said sternly. Emma slowely parted her legs, all of her golden liquid was now being held back by her tired sphincter muscles. Her bladder spasmed and contracted hard. Her pussy clenching and unclenching rithmically. She was hunched over slightly. Suddenly Jake pressed on her bladder, hard. Emma winced in pain as a spurt escaped her iron bladder before she regained control, she closed her eyes, all focus now on keeping her pee in. A wave of spasms followed and with every wave of pain Emma felt like she was gonna lose control, her urine now on the brink of gushing out and ruining her pants and making a massive puddle on the floor. The relief she would feel..... 'One pasta and one large pizza.' Said the waitress who placed the food on their table. Emma instantly slammed her legs shut and crossed them realizing she had almost lost control. 'Thank you very much' Jake said embarressed as he pulled back his hand from under the table. Emma just nodded and put on a fake smile, unable to speak with her hand firmly in her crotch to help out her muscles. When the waitress left she inspected the damage, a wet patch the size of a softball was now visible on her pants.
Eating proved to be very difficult for Emma as she needed both hands. After every bit of pasta she put in her mouth she had to put down her knife and fork and put her hand inside her pants to give her crotch a hard squeeze. She was bent forward at the waist and her legs tightly locked and dubble crossed. Jake was done with his pizza way before Emma and he said: 'You know your only making this more difficult for yourself by not eating right? We are not leaving before you are done with that pasta.' Jake said. 'I know, but I can't eat fast when I have to squeeze my pussy every 10 seconds.' Emma said surprised at her language. Jake got only more turned on by her verbal language. 'Then don't squeeze your pussy every 10 seconds, it's as easy as that.' He said grinning. Emma ignored him and continued eating. She tried to put as much pasta in her mouth as she could before dropping her knife and fork and squeezing herself hard. This pattern continued until Emma had finished her food. 'What about your drink Emma, it'd be rude to not drink it.' A wave of pain and urgency hit Emma at the thought of more liquid, but she drank it anyway. She chugged the whole 0.5 liter glass and said: 'Done, now lets finally go home.' 'Not so fast, we have to wait for the waitress to bring us our reciept.' Jake said truthfully.
They sat for a few minutes before they saw a waitress walking their way. 'Hey you, can we pay?' Jake asked. 'Of course, the young waitress said as she walked over to their table. While Jake was using his credit card to pay the money he saw the waitress grab her crotch and cross her leg. 'Do you have to pee?' Jake asked the waitress surprised at his own directness. 'Yes I do, I didn't have the chance to go after school so I last went this morning. And I still have to work here for three more hours.' The waitress cried out as she squatted down and stood back up. Seeing someone else desperate for a piss increased Emma's desperation, she put her hand in her panties and pinched her urethra to block any pee from coming out. 'Well good luck, we will leave now.' Jake said as he stood up from their table awkwardly trying to hide his boner from the waitress. 'Thanks.' The waitress replied as she turned around and walked to a different table. Emma slowely rose from her chair with both hands in her crotch. She considered asking Jake to use the toilet here as she thought the possibility of her wetting herself on the bus was very real. But she knew what his answer would be, so she slowely walked with him to the exit of the restaurant. 'Emma your embarrassing us, at least get your hands away from your crotch.' Jake whispered to Emma. 'I can't Jake' She squeeled. 'I rather be seen holding my crotch than peeing myself.'
They arrived at the bus stop right when the bus opened its doors. Jake and Emma sat down in the back, luckily for Emma, the whole bus was empty. But even if it had been full of people, she didn't care at this point. She was now really nearing the end. She used every trick in the book, hands directly holding her lips together, rocking back and forward as if she was a prisoner trying to escape from ropes holding her to a chair, legs double crossed and pinching her urethra with her fingers. Jake had never seen anything like this. His member was almost as hard as Emma's bladder. One stroke would make him cum, but he saved it for later. Emma was shaking as wave after wave of desperation hit her with every wave more powerful than the last. The bus went over a small pothole and a little droplet of pee escaped her grip. It saturated her pussy lips that had only just dried from her previous leak. The wetness made her more desperate and another spurt escaped her urethra, followed by a second longer spurt. 'Jake I'm leaking, I'm gonna lose it here!' Emma panicked. Jake took her hands and pulled them out of her crotch. 'You have tio concentrate Emma, don't think about the release, think about yout sphincter. Think about how it is shut and stays shut. Think about your bladder expanding.' Emma closed her eyes and tried. It seemed to work. She was able to clench her sphincter harder than previous. The next 10 minutes Emma's condition worsened even more, the drink from the restaurant now hitting her bladder too. She had her hands in her crotch again and was squirming as hard as previous, if not harder. But they were almost there. "I might be able to do it." Emma thought to herself.
Three minutes later, the bus came to a stop. 'Emma we're here. You'll have to stand up.'
Final part coming soon |
Final part (sorry for the 4 month delay xD)
Jake and Emma heard the bus doors opening and Jake immediatly got up, expecting Emma to want to get out of the bus as quickly as possible. He was right of course, but Emma remained seated. 'Jake.. I can't... stand up,' she said. Jake looked at her and for the first time today felt sorry for her. He did this to her, even though she wanted him to. The only thing he could do now was help her get to a toilet. 'Come on Emma, I know you can do it. You've held it for this long and you will make it to the toilet.' The word toilet was enough for another spurt to escape past Emma's iron sphincter. As she felt her crotch get moisturized again she realized she couldn't remain seated. She would at least have to try to stand. She slowly raised her butt first, and with her back parallel to the ground she slowly started shuffling towards the exit. One hand was in her crotch and the other hand was being held by Jake who guided her towards relief. Tears filled Emma's eyes as another wave of pulsating desperation hit her, but she kept walking, not willing to give in to her needs. Her bladder was as big as a pumpkin and her skin had turned white because of how much it had stretched. The bus driver gave them an angry face and shouted: 'Hurry the **** up or I will close these doors and you'll be stuck in this bus untill morning.' Jake's face turned red out of angryness, but he calmed himself down and ignored the angry bus driver. Emma didn't even hear what the bus driver said. Her complete focus was now on the only muscle in her body keeping her hot boiling urine inside. Her sphincter was now beyond tired but she refused to give in.
Jake stepped onto the pavement first. Luckily for Emma the pavement was quite high compared to the street, so she wouldn't have to part her legs. As she stepped out of the bus she felt the cold evening air, which almost broke her resolve. Her house was already in sight, and Jake increased his pace, making Emma lose balance for a split second. Opening the lips of her quivering pussy for just long enough for a small trickle of urine to seep through, followed by a 3 second spurt, after which Emma finally regained control. Her jogging pants were now showing a wet spot the size of a small plate. As Jake saw this he acted quickly, he placed one hand behind Emma's legs and the other behind her back, and he lifted her from the ground. 'Jake what are you... AHH!' Another leak had escaped her grip. Gravity was now pushing on her bladder, giving Emma waves of pain as she tried keeping the ocean inside her at bay. Her desperation had risen to new heights because of her position, but she could now use both hands to hold herself and one hand started massaging her pulsating bladder bulge. Jake could now increase his pace, and he did, but because Emma was now alot heavier due to her body being filled to the brim with liquids, he could not go alot faster than normal walking speed. Withing to minutes they were at Emma's front door and Jake had to put her down. When Emma was standing again she searched for her keys, and to her great relief she immediatly felt them in her pocket. She put the right key into the lock and with shaking hands she opened the door.
When she opened it she realized that her parents were both home and her little brother was also home. Even though piss was about to shoot past her almost failing sphincter all over the floor, she could not squirm in front of her parents, and even less in front of her little brother. So with a monumental effort she somehow removed her hands from her crotch and stood up sort of straight. 'Hey, guys how was the film?' her mom asked as they stood in front of the living room. 'It was good,' Emma quickly replied, 'but I have a really bad stomach ache from the food we ate after the film, so me and Jake will go to my room.' This was of course a lie, but it was the best lie she could think of right now. And because she already saw her parents looking at her weirdly because of her posture, she had to quickly come up with something. Emma hoped her family couldn't see her wet crotch, but she thought the shadow of her body hid it pretty well, and she was right, since nothing was said about it. 'Alright, do you want something to drink before you go upstairs.' Emma's mom asked to Emma's annoyance. She shook her head since she didn't even have the power to say anything. At that moment she felt another drop squeeze it's way into her lace panties. 'You, Jake?' Her mother asked. 'No thanks I'm good.' Jake replied swiftly. Emma quickly walked out of her parents sight and sighed in relief when she put her hands into her panties and squeezed her pussy. She shuffled to the toilet, but when she tried to open it she found it locked. Her brother was inside. Emma lost all of her hope of holding on now, she simply couldn't wait a second longer. But right before she lost control, Jake picked her up and started carying her up the stairs. Emma quickly regained her senses and she cruelly denied her sphincter relief. Her finger was now directly pressing her peehole and it somehow worked. Jake put her down in front of her room and they quickly got in and closed the door behind them.
Being in private again Jake's horniness won out over his empathy again. And he lay Emma down on the bed. She tried to scrunch up into a ball but Jake didn't allow her to and he held her flat on her back. Small rivulets of hot urine now escaped her grip every few seconds. Jake started undressing her and slowly peeled off her jogging pants. He quickly put down a towel underneath Emma as he saw her continuously leaking. 'Stop the leaks immediatly,' he said as he started taking off her lace panties. Her bare pussy was now exposed, but not for long as Emma quickly slammed a hand into it. 'No you're not,' Jake said cruelly and he took her hand away, 'and I said stop leaking.' Emma tried all she could but she couldn't stop the occasional trickle. Jake started caressing her bladder and she moaned loudly as he did.
Her bladder was as hard as rock and Jake thought her belly could burst open at any second, after playing around with her bladder for a few minutes he couldn't stop himself and softly pressed Emma's overfilled bladder. Emma felt like her urethra was on fire, her whole body hurt as a wave of pain swept over her, her sphincter the only thing that was blocking her 25 hour full bladder filled with the 6 liters of bevarages she had drunk today. Even though she was in pain, she was also incredibly turned on by the pressure on her clit and g-spot. 'Please continue,' Emma half whispered half moaned. Jake didn't hesitate and he pushed hard on her bladder. Emma put her hand in front of her mouth and screamed into it. A huge jet of piss shot out of her tortured peehole and it hit the wall on the other side of the room. The pressure behind it was as high as you'd expect, or even higher. Emma was now at the end of her capabilities. The water from the restaurant had filled her bladder even more and she was now leaking steadily. Jake saw it happening and put his hand on her crotch to help her hold. Emma's own hands pushed them away and she put both her hands on her peehole and she tightened her sphincter with all her might. She sat up straight and bent forward. She spurted for a second, and another time, and another time, and a sprurt of 2 seconds. 'Jake I don't think I can..' But Jake had already seen what was happening and he had ran to the other side of the room where he saw an empty container. He grabbed it and placed it under Emma. 'Let it go baby.' He said. Emma didn't wait a second longer, piss immediatly shot out of her and she swung her head back in bliss. She moaned loudly as she started rubbing her clit. Not even a second after she touched it she exploded into the best orgasm in her life. Waves of pleasure swept over her body as her whole body contracted again and again. She had never felt anything like this, her vision went black and she kept orgasming for 3 minutes. When her orgasms stopped she had still not stopped peeing. And she continued to pee for another 3 minutes, 6 minutes total. When her bladder was finally empty her exausted body collapsed onto the bed and she couldn't move or talk for the next few minutes. Meanwhile Jake had measured how much she had peed. '3.4 liters,' he whispered into Emma's ear. When Emma had recovered they had the best sex in their lives and they slept for 14 hours long. And this certainly wasn't the last time Emma and Jake did something like this.
The End
-PS: yes I know, unrealistic ;) |
This is gonna be a doozy. It starts at an isolated park, which in this world is widely known for the amount of pee fanatics it gets.
My friend Pinky, who so happens to be one of those people, heads over there for a round of pee fun.
I am already there, playing ultimate frisbee with some old friends from high school. For some reason, it took me a while to pick up Pinky was there, and as you’d expect, at a park that’s known for pee, she’s desperate to find a spot to pee.
Meanwhile, it’s a neck and neck fight in the ultimate game. Game is tied 7-7, and next point wins. As were setting up for a final play, Pinky finally finds a place to empty her overflowing bladder. Unfortunately, it’s nearby where we are playing which means there’s a chance I could run into her. She looks around and somehow doesn’t see us.
As she’s sitting down to release all her pee, we start our play. I start running forward as the handler takes the disc, looking for an open man. I then fake out my defender, spin and am wid e open deep downfield. The handler sees me and goes for it all, a deep pass all the way to the end zone... which is just a few feet from where Pinky is. I full on sprint, going for the epic game winner, but the disc is slightly overthrown, and is heading down for the tip of the end zone. By a miracle chance I manage to make a massive outstretched diving catch and barely stay inbounds for a miracle game winner.
However, I slide out of bounds, which was after I caught it, and slide right into Pinky a few feet away. She looks at me beat red as she was already nearly stripped down at this point. She jumps up embarrassed, and in the distance my teammates are screaming about the crazy play and run towards me. I jump up and celebrate with them. No question that was my greatest catch I’ve ever had in season or out of season.
Pinky meanwhile is still desperate and anxious to get a release. After the celebrations die down, we start heading back to get our belongings, but Pinky calls to me.
“Diego! Wait! I..I want to walk around in this park with you. I wanted to do something special with you.” I paused. It dawned on me exactly what she wanted, given the park we are in, and I smiled. What could be better? A game winner and satisfying one of my fantasies? It’s pure gold. I tell my teammates that they can head off without me, as they wanted to grab a bite to eat after the game. I grabbed my bags and headed over to Pinky, and we started walking around the park. She’s looking more desperate than ever.
If I had to guess, she was easily at an 8 or a 9 in regards to how bad she needed to pee. I walked around with her and suddenly I started to wince. My bladder was quickly filling to max capacity. I remembered that I had 4 waters throughout the game and a Gatorade and realized that could rapidly fill my bladder. Now both of us are desperate, and I’m trying so hard not to wet myself around her. While I do that, she’s on the verge of completely breaking.
“Hey, do you want to go somewhere and let all the out?” I ask her, looking very concerned. “Yes, I’m about to burst!” She says. And then it happens. I look closely and I see drips coming down her legs and shorts. At that point, I grab her hand and SPRINT to find somewhere perfect to finally let it go. That’s when out of the corner of my eye, I spot the perfect location, the infamous Pee Lake, which is an ideal spot to let out her pee, right into that nice water. I tell her. “Can you hold it for a little bit longer? I’m taking you to Pee Lake!” “I can’t hold it anymore, if it’s nearby, make it fast!” She says, as more pee drips down her leg. I grab her by one hand and run as fast as I can until we finally reach Pee Lake.
She tears her shorts off and looks down at the wide open lake water. I drop my shorts as well and look on, and within a few seconds, it comes out of Pinky like a tidal wave into the water. I turn to her, and the look on her face is tremendous relief. I see bubbles in the water as a strong stream of pee rushes out of her. I can’t take it anymore and I finally release the amount of pee I was holding. We look at each other and smile, knowing this is exactly what Pinky wanted to do with me. But, we’re not done here.
After she and I finish up, I playfully tackle her and start to kiss her, smiling while we do it. I then tell her to get on top of me, and she knows exactly what’s gonna happen. “So is this how you wanna play after that hmm?” She smiles seductively. “Oh you know it. Let’s have a pee good time shall we?” I laugh at my corny joke and slowly slide Pinky down so her pussy is close to my rock hard dick. She lifts her pussy up and starts to ride my dick. I moan and smile as she bounces up and down over and over again. The amount of force shes using is insane, and I’m enjoying every second of this. I kiss her as she rides me and she moans with pleasure. Finally, we both reach our climax point and before I can, Pinky starts leaking cum onto my dick. I smile and within a few moments I shoot a huge load of cum into her pussy. But that’s not at all. Both of us still have some pee in our systems and I decide to shoot my pee deep into her pussy. She smiles as I unleash a final round of pee into her, and she recoils by letting her pee out with mine. Once it’s all over, we collapse smiling. Holding hands we look at each other.
“That was amazing. Couldn’t have asked for a better time.” Pinky says. “Couldn’t agree more.” I say. We both stand up shortly after, gather our things, and leave the park, after one of the wildest, most fun times I’ve had with someone in a while.
Edited August 31, 2020 by Deg712
(see edit history) |
In this story, I am no longer a human being. I have been converted to an anime character known as Diego-San. The girl in this story is from a hentai manga series and she is named Sakuma. The story begins with Sakuma desperately having to pee after her last class. Based on the manga, the current popular trend amongst the girls at Sakuma’s school is that they all like to pee outside. And she decides that she wants to join in on this trend. Which that decision proves to be an intriguing and very fun decision.
She has been holding it in the entire day so a lot is going to come out. After school, she heads to the back of her school to look for an open spot near a small park to finally relieve herself, which she finds in the form of an open bench. Meanwhile, next to the park, I am at a baseball field in the middle of a pickup baseball game. I am playing right field, and slightly above me but behind me is Sakuma, as she’s lowering her panties getting ready to pee.
Back to the game, the batter up is a left hander with a lot of power, which means I know as soon as he gets the right pitch he is going to crush it. And he does, a fastball down the middle that sails to right, directly above me. I start sprinting back with my focus only on the baseball. As I’m doing that, Sakuma has finally relaxed enough that she starts to pee. And it comes out at a very high pressure. She looks down, and at first it seems a little weird, but she quickly gets comfortable and starts to enjoy it, breathing a huge sigh of relief as she enjoys the rush of pee that comes out. At the same time, the baseball Im chasing starts to come down... directly in front of where Sakuma is peeing.
All I see is the baseball, not Sakuma, and I start to attempt to dive to catch the ball. I make a miraculous catch, but not before sliding directly through Sakuma’s puddle of pee. Sakuma stops abruptly, still with a lot of pee left inside her, and just looks at me, stunned and beat red. I quickly get up however, not minding how wet I am, and fire a laser beam throw of the baseball back to first base for an inning ending double play. The runner on first didn’t expect me to recover in time to make the catch, and was already rounding third headed for home when I caught it.
After I got him out, I was ecstatic and screaming loudly. All the players pointed their gloves at me in appreciation of that crazy play. As I’m starting to jog back to the dugout, Sakuma stops me. “W-Wait! I-I didn’t expect you to stumble upon me when I was doing this. I’ve never had a guy watch me before. W-would you like to see?”
I look at her, stunned. And deep down something starts to tingle, because in that moment, I remembered how much of a pee fanatic I am, considering I’ve had a fetish for it for quite some time. I thought to myself, “Am I in heaven? This is the perfect scenario.” Sakuma knows who I am, because she’s seen me around school, but she has absolutely no idea about my pee fetish, since I’ve kept it very confidential. I decided to tell her that I have that, given the situation, and I just squat down and watch. I hear her breath another sigh of relief as she starts to pee again, just as strong as before. I’m immediately turned on by it and watch her continue to pee until she has nothing left. As she finishes, she noticed that I started to grow a massive boner. And with a creepy smile, she asks if she can touch it.
I look to my left and make a fast hand signal to the dugout before she does and tell them I need a sub, and I’ll be out of the game. When they ask why I tell them it’s a personal matter, when really I’m about to have sexual fun with a girl.
Then she proceeds to take my baseball pants off and reveal my full size boner, which is already a bit wet. She starts stroking it back and forth and that’s where I lose it. I start to cum violently and it splatters all over her face, shirt and skirt. She looks at me and smiles wide. She lies dow on the bench after I cummed all over, still wet from her pee, and whispers, “W-will you try touching me? Down there?” I hesitantly say yes. And the response from her body is almost immediate. I stick two fingers inside her open pussy, and she almost immediately starts cumming and squirting, directly in my face and all over my right hand. She then smiles, gets up and flips me onto the bench instead. She then looks into my eyes and says we should make each other feel even better, and asks me to stick my full sized dick into her. I do it without hesitation, and we start having sex.
She then begins bobbing up and down and rides me, and later on she pulls her shirt up and shows her small boobs. She asks me to kiss them, which I do, as she bobs up and down more and more. Then I turn over and stand up, after kissing them, and continue to fuck her young and fragile pussy hard. It’s very warm inside of her and she looks onward moaning. I start feeling a little dizzy from fucking her but I keep pushing through it. I’ve reached my peak for the second time in a row and finally start to cum. But then all of a sudden I have a strong urge to pee immediately after, and I asked her if I could pee inside of her pussy. She says yes, without hesitation, and I fill up her insides with my pee. As a result, she feels an urge to pee again, after I took my dick out of her, and she pees once again in the same spot where she did the first time.
Then after we both finish up, I grab my baseball cap and glove and start to walk off, and Sakuma whispers, “Diego, this stays a secret between us okay?” And I nod, and I also tell her I wouldn’t mind doing this again some day, and blow her a kiss. Finally, I run back to the dugout after only missing a half inning, not missing a beat in the game as I come back into right field and resume where I left off, even after one of the most exciting half innings of fun I’ve ever had.
Edited September 1, 2020 by Deg712
(see edit history) |
This story was inspired by a recent commission I got from @Biku as I try to get my sea legs back for writing... hope you enjoy!
“Gosh fucking dammit gosh fucking dammit!” Christelle hissed bitterly to herself as she stood, knock-kneed, next to the corrections officer the San Luis Obispo County Police Department had her quite literally chained to.
Why they even had her detained in such a manner was beyond Christelle’s reasoning; she’d always figured such treatment was reserved for powder-
smuggling drug mules or frat legacies who’d made one too many sloppy trades on Daddy’s Forex account, not a 23-year-old grad student with a shit
load of student debt and a small pile of unpaid parking tickets.
It’d been over an hour since the bullshit civil court hearing that morning, where Christelle had tried to explain to that fat toad of a judge in no uncertain terms that she got paid at the end of the month and would square her accounts then, but they wouldn’t hear of it. They’d told her to shore up the balance by the end of the day, or spend the night in a holding cell. Not keen on having another mark against her formerly spotless record, Christelle resorted to swallowing her pride and getting her high-living tech startup mogul cousin to post her bail and front the cash for the tickets until she could pay it back. After that particularly humiliating phone call, they’d let her out of the cell…and promptly cuffed her to one of their officers until they cleared her to leave.
It was outrageous. She got the damn fines paid for and the tickets were settled. She should be a free woman, but they were still acting like she was a fucking flight risk while they dragged their feet in processing her release papers.
As if she could have run anywhere, anyway... the judge had relegated her and her tax dollar-sanctioned babysitter to the basement floor of the precinct near the evidence locker... a good, visible corner facing the door that allowed no movement to go undetected by the traffic of police officers roaming through the department... not to mention there were two-bit rent-a-cops stationed at every exit like this was the Museum of Natural History or something...like, what were they protecting? Old case files? A 7-year old coffee maker? A detailed map of the most efficient route to all doughnut shops in the area?
And of course, they still had her literally bound at the wrist to what looked like Uma Thurman guest starring on an episode of Law and Order, ensuring she was well and truly stripped of agency. That’s what really stuck it in Christelle’s craw…she felt like a 3rd grader being escorted to the principal’s office the way her hand hung limply at her side, joined to the officer’s.
Still, Christelle supposed there were worse people to be cuffed to...a taciturn statuesque blonde with Eastern European features and a constantly brooding expression who could’ve been just as at home in a clothing catalogue as a precinct was a far sight better than the portly desk jockeys Christelle had seen waddling around here. In fact, had this been literally any other situation, Christelle would’ve been thoroughly checking her out…she always had a thing for women in uniform. She wasn’t sure the officer swung that way, but the gruff expression and tight ponytail gave Christelle some hope.
Granted, that didn’t make it any less annoying that she was made to simply wait to be turned loose... or that for the past hour, the bottles of water she’d guzzled in her anxiety before her hearing had been coming back to haunt her in a bad way. Even under the relatively loose fabric of the jumpsuit, Christelle could feel how tight her abdomen was getting, her bladder swelling with liquid she had so unwisely imbibed. It was getting to the point where she was having to shift around ever so often just to not give her morning’s worth of piss too long to bear down on her sphincter.
“This is such fucking bullshit...” she hissed, angrily tugging at the handcuff that bound her to the officer and wincing as the metal dug into her skin.
”Cut that out.” huffed the officer, glaring across at Christelle. The young woman was surprised; her retainer hasn’t said a word this whole time, and she was surprised by the rich alto tone that she spoke in... and the lack of an accent, given the German frauline Christelle has conjured in her mind.
Christelle pursed her lips, meeting the officer’s eyes. “These handcuffs are digging into my wrists. They hurt. Don’t I have to be, I don’t know, read rights or something before I get slapped in the silver?” She grumbled, her ire mounting as the pressure from her bladder became more and more difficult to ignore now that she’d focused on it.
”You’re not currently under arrest, so you’ve no need for a legal briefing of that sort.” The woman replied, her eyes returning to face forward. “If, however, you’d like to exercise your right to remain silent, feel absolutely free.”
Christelle narrowed her eyes, glowering at the stalwart woman. “Look…I’ve been standing here an hour while they diddle around with my paperwork... and I parked on the east side of the street, which you can only stay in for four hours at a time before you have to renew the meter...so if I get kept here too long and get another ticket, what’re you all gonna do then?” She huffed sarcastically.
The officer’s jaw set. “Hope that you are more prudent in paying it than you have been with your last three.” She responded, her voice rigid and unmoving, but carrying detectable undertones of irritation.
Christelle huffed, glowering at the floor as she surreptitiously rubbed her thighs together. It was a constant pressure now, one she could definitely stand to be rid of... but there was no way she’d be allowed to remove the cuffs, and she was certainly not gonna ask Goldilocks to come into the toilet with her, she had to maintain some manner of dignity. She could wait.
However, as the minutes stretched on into another hour, Christelle found herself getting more and more nervous. She couldn’t even stand still now, forced to continue to gently tap each foot against the ground and wiggle about... she really wanted to jam a hand into her crotch to give herself some reinforcement, but no way was she gonna hold herself like a little girl in front of Robocop. Surely they’d be done with her paperwork soon, and she could get out of these cuffs, take a wicked piss, and be on her way. She just had to hold on.
~~~~
Time wore on, and with it, Christelle’s hopes of making it out of this without revealing too much of her predicament to her temporary steward were quickly eroding. She grit her teeth as she rocked back and forth on her heels, cocking her hips and bending at the knee whenever she felt no one was looking. Holy shit, she had to piss... the burning sensation right on top of her urethra, bidding her to simply relax and let go, sorely tested her resolve. Sweat began to bead on her forehead despite the overly air conditioned room as she clenched her pelvic muscles rhythmically with every rolling wave of pressure. Dignity and desperation grappled within her as she fought with herself about what she should do, even as she was forced to hunch over after a particularly strong wave of pressure. After a few more agonizing minutes, biology gained an edge over pride and Christelle turned to the officer.
“Hey, Uh... do you think we could pop over to the little girl’s room real quick?” She whispered in a low voice so only her female companion would hear it.
The officer’s eyes flitted over to Christelle’s tense features, her own expression tightening somewhat. “Regulative policy states that no recess is permitted until release papers are signed and the handcuffs removed. They shouldn’t be long now.”
The words were so casual, so state-of-fact… both they were like daggers to Christelle’s bladder, which felt even fuller having heard that demoralizing answer.
”Uh, l-listen officerrrr...” Christelle leaned forward to read the woman’s nametag. “...Landry, um.... I’m gonna level with you, I drank a whole lot of water before that hearing, which was like an hour, and, uh, since then I’ve just been standing here with you... for…a couples hours… it’s kind of an emergency...” she added with a tense mutter, lifting her ankle and curling behind her leg for emphasis.
Officer Landry frowned, her stoic gaze hardly breaking as she stood, still and unmoving as ever. “No recess is permitted until release papers are signed and the handcuffs removed.” She repeated callously. “You’re a big girl, you can hold it.”
Christelle bit back a curse as her plea was deflected... but she couldn’t simply give up. “I assure you that I can’t...” she hissed fretfully, bending at the hip with a pained expression. “P-please, I feel like I’m gonna explode, we’ve been standing here so lo-“
”That’s enough.” Officer Landry cut in, setting her jaw. “You should have the self-control to put up with a little discomfort while you get bailed out of the situation you got yourself into.”
Christelle let out a strangled gasp of exasperation. “If you had to piss as bad as I do, you’d le-“
“I am an officer of the law, trained to maximize my body’s capabilities to protect the peace.” Landry cut in again, her gaze now fully boring into Christelle. “I would let my bladder swell to the size of a watermelon if it meant accomplishing my mission... missions that are far more important than keeping an eye on a child.” The woman muttered.
Christelle blinked, rather surprised at how... strangely vulgar the woman was when it came to her bathroom habits... but that still didn’t help her. With no other options and her one companion psychologically closing herself off, Christelle resigned herself to simply bearing the pain and hoping her papers were signed soon.
~~
Another 20 minutes passed. Christelle was full on dancing now, all shame buried under her intense desire to urinate. Her scrunched upwards as she bit her lower lip hard enough to nearly draw blood.
”Hhaaaaaashiiiiiiittt...” she groaned. “Shit shit shiiiihi-hi-hit...”
She swallowed, turning her frantic gaze towards the officer once more, desperately trying to appeal to her humanity. “Officer Landry, please, you gotta take me to the toilet, I swear I’m gonna piss on the floor if you don’t let me go right fucking no-oooohh...” the girl shut her eyes tight, sucking air through her teeth as she automatically plunged a hand between her legs.
“It should be any minute now...” Officer Landry responded gruffly. For all her posturing, though, one could tell the officer was having a bit of trouble too. Her thighs were pressed together, one knee bent slightly inward as she clenched her hands at her sides. She was in need, but not nearly as desperate as Christelle, and her rigid adherence to protocol was only causing more trouble for both women
.
The minutes marched mercilessly on. Christelle was on the verge of defeat, all hope of remaining dry dwindling with each passing moment…even gripping herself between her thighs was providing little respite from the angry throbbing of a soon to be overflowing bladder. She had no choice; she had to convince Officer Landry to bend the rules, just this once… the absolute last thing Christelle wanted to do was piss herself in a precinct full of grown men.
Swallowing and gritting her teeth, Christelle turned one final time to the now fidgeting officer. “O-Officer Landry, please, I-“
Just then, the door to the conference room at the top of the stairs opened, and a balding man poked his head out. "Christelle Bisset!" He called.
Immediately, Christelle piped up, pulling her hand from her crotch and hurrying over to the base of the stairs, frantically peering up at the man. "Ah! Yes, yes, that's me!" She called, pressing her thighs together as hard as she could to compensate for the loss of the reinforcing pressure of her hand..
The man smiled down at her. "Good news...your papers are all processed. You're free to go."
Christelle blinked, the words rattling around in her head before she could fully grasp them. She could've cried for joy. "Oh, finally, thank you thank you thank you!" She called up at him.
The man's smile lessened a bit in his confusion at the girl's strange manner of speech. "Er...yeah...Anyway, Marzetti's out to lunch, and he's got the keys to your cuffs... soon as he gets back, he'll let you out and you can be on your way."
The balloon of elation in Christelle's chest popped under the pinprick of the man's words, her hopeful smile turning to horror.
"L-Lunch?" She stammered, squeezing her thighs together as her bladder rebelled at the thought of having to wait any longer. "H-how long will that take, I m-mean...when did he go?"
The officer at the top of the stairs shrugged. "I dunno, he just left. Break's only a half hour though, shouldn't be too long. I'll send him to come find you soon as he gets back."
Christelle blinked tears out of her eyes. Still, she swallowed, forcing herself to smile again. "O-okay..."
The man nodded, moving back into the room and closing the door.
As soon as he was gone, Christelle ducked back around the corner, her hand flying to her crotch again as she hopped from foot to foot for all she was worth.
"A half fucking hour!? I can't fucking wait that lo-ho-honnng!" She hissed, the tears now streaming down her cheeks...and she was seconds away from her other cheeks getting a similar bath.
She turned her fevered gaze on Officer Landry, who's tight lip and furrowed brow betrayed her own displeasure at having relief put further out of her reach.
"Of-Officer Landry, please, ya gotta help me..." Christelle hissed gutturally, bobbing forwards and upwards as she pressed at her quivering peehole. "Please please please I'm a-*hooo* I'm about to piss myself, ohhhh I'm about to piss myself..."
Landry set her jaw, the girl’s desperate display making her own need worse. She took a deep breath as she squeezed her thighs together. ”I told you, we cannot leave the-"
"Then you'd better fucking find me something else to piss into in the next five seconds or I'm gonna go right here on the floor!" Christelle spat, her thigh crossing over the other as she bent to a nearly 90 degree angle, her eyes scrunched tight as her face contorted in pain. "That what you want!? Me pissing on the fucking linoleum!? What’s the ‘regulation’ about that!?” She hissed, all decorum and respectfulness going out the window as Christelle danced for all she was worth.
Officer Landry pursed her lips. Despite her insistence that they follow procedure, it was clear that the young girl was at the end of her tether. It would surely reflect poorly in her report if her detainee wet herself… Landry herself would be reprimanded for even allowing it to get that bad, and the precinct could be facing a lawsuit. She had to act quickly.
The lawwoman set her jaw, taking a cursory glance around the room as she gave a gentle curtsy of her own. There wasn't much around that could act as a receptacle for urine...there was a desk, bearing a pencil cup, a lamp, an abacus and some restraining order forms, the trashcan next to it, a stool, a fi- The trashcan!"
Landry turned back to Christelle, who was now fully crouched, her cheeks puffed out almost comically as she bounced in place.
"The trashcan. Be quick about it..." She huffed, a strain in her voice betraying her own mounting need, exacerbated by Christelle’s animated movements.
Christelle looked up, a modicum of disbelief cutting through her agony. "A-are you serious? I- oh, fuck it..." She groaned, struggling to her feet and staggering over to the tall cylindrical can.
She danced in place as she tried to undo the waistband of her jumpsuit with one hand. "Come onnnn comeoncomeoncomeon..." She hissed, dancing even more furiously now. "Ohhh no, ohhh no no no..."
Suddenly, she ripped the trousers down to her thighs, barely getting her ass over the plastic rimmed can before nearly 4 hours worth of piss exploded from her exhausted peehole, jetting harshly against the plastic lining.
"Hooooohhhhhhhhmagawwwwwwddd" groaned Christelle as her pee roped noisily into the makeshift toilet. Her eyes were half-lidded in euphoria, her jaw going slack from the sheer ecstasy of relief.
So caught up was she in her release, she barely noticed the effect her display was having on her steward…
Officer Landry swallowed, trying to block out the sound of the young woman’s pee splattering into the trashcan. Her own bladder throbbed in sympathy, the organ protesting after having held back its load since early yesterday evening, when she’d assisted in giving a police escort to a murder witness testifying in court… She’d even volunteered to take up a watch at the safe house, consuming a least a half litter of coffee to keep herself awake…and by the time she was relieved of duty, she had been so exhausted she went right to sleep upon getting home. She’d gotten the summons this morning to be back at the courthouse, early 14 hours worth of water and coffee pushing against the walls of the officer’s bladder, and still she’d skipped her morning pee to be on time… now she paid dearly for that decision, her liquids demanding to be released as the torturous cacophony of Christelle’s relief continued to assault her eardrums. It was getting worse by the minute…
Opening her eyes, Christelle was shocked to see the stoic stalwart of a cop wiggling her hips about, the sound of Christelle's relief proving too much for her tough persona to maintain...
So surprised was she, in fact, that she actually stopped peeing for a moment. “…Are you-“
“Quiet.” Officer Landry huffed. “Are you finished?”
Christelle reddened, now possessing the clarity to recognize how she must’ve looked; pants down, ass in the air over a trashcan. But she’d be damned if it didn’t feel good… She started peeing again, though this time, she did so with a bright red face and deliberately downturned gaze.
Suddenly, Officer Landry grunted, and a hand came up to squeezed between her thighs, bunching up her uniform around her crotch as she fought the sudden waves of pressure.
After nearly a minute, Christelle’s stream lessened, eventually trickling into drops before stopping completely. The young woman awkwardly stood up, reaching down with her free hand to pull her pants and panties back up over her dripping flower, her face glowing like the setting sun.
Despite the mortifying prospect of what she’d just done, Christelle felt lighter than she had in hours… though the same could not be said for Landry, who was now shifting from side to side about in a manner not unsimilar to what Christelle had been doing.
Christelle’s eyes drifted up the woman’s face. “Everything alright? I-“
Landry set her her jaw. “As I said, I am an officer of the law, trained to control my bodily functions to serve the peace. What you are looking at is 14 hours’ worth of accumulated dedication to that creed.”
Christelle’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Fourteen…holy shit…” she breathed, eyes dropping to the tremendous bulge in officer Landry’s abdomen. “You must be about to fucking pop…“
“I will contain myself for as long as is necessary…” The woman huffed defiantly, though the hand buried in her crotch told a different story.
Just then, the door at the top of the stairs opened, though this time the man did not call for Christelle.
“Oi! Roskins, McMullan! Marzetti just called over the horn, robbery down at Archie’s on third! Get down there!”
Christelle blinked. Marzetti? Was that…
Apparently Landry had had the same realization, sweat beading on her brow as she glared up at the officers rushing out of the precinct. A robbery meant that Marzetti wasn’t going to be back with the keys any time soon.
Bouncing on her heels, Landry’s mind raced. How long would the robbery take? It was a 13 minute drive to Archie’s from here, and it would take 13 to get back… plus the standard hour for taking statements from witnesses, even longer if there were hostages… she could be looking at staying here for the rest of the afternoon…
As if on cue, Landry felt her hold slip, and she gasped as she felt a spurt of warmth in her cotton panties.
Christelle, still standing by, peered upon the woman with concern. “I-“
“Move.” Officer Landry suddenly barked, striding over to the trashcan. She squeezed her thighs together once more as she worked to get the button of her tactical trousers undone, the call of relief only making her need worse now that the seal was broken.
Christelle simply watched the previously silent and disciplined officer break down in a desperate dance before her, frantically fiddling with her pants.
At last, the button came undone, and Christelle was treated to the sight of Landry’s shapely ass as it threw itself over the can just as an even bigger torrent of piss came pouring out of the officer.
For a moment, there was naught but the sound of Officer Landry’s labored breathing and her pee roping noisily into the liquid already within.
Christelle couldn’t believe it. Two minutes had passed and the officer was still going strong, her bulbous bladder showing no signs of stopping. She must have really needed to go… Christelle found herself idly wondering just how long Officer Landry had been waiting to produce a flood like that…it had to have been quite some time… The more Christelle thought about it, the more intriguing it was and the harder it was to try and tear her gaze away from the pissing officer.
After nearly 3 and a half minutes, Landry’s stream ran dry, and she pulled herself off the trash can with a grunt, clearing her throat. She turned to Christelle, her own cheeks a bit rosy.
“No one is going to know about this.” She said in a low, menacing tone, though Christelle could hear the clear embarrassment behind it.
Christelle nodded, making a show of zipping her lips as she looked at upon the officer. Had she…always been this hot?
“Uh…so…” She murmured, looking down at their still chained wrists.
Landry cleared her throat again. “We will remain here as per regulation. No recess is permitted until the handcuffs are removed.”
Christelle swallowed. “Uh…right…”
She took a look at trashcan…even from here she could smell the acrid stench of their combined urine wafting up.
“Geez… guess we both really needed that, huh? But you…fourteen hours…wow…”
Officer Landry said nothing, though Christelle could’ve sworn she saw the barest hint of a smile flit across the woman’s face.
“As I said. My capacity is thoroughly-trained and hard-won.”
Christelle chuckled in spite of herself, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear. “It’s impressive…maybe I should become a cop, get some of that iron will…”
Landry huffed gently. “Certainly there are better ways to improve self-control than enlisting in the police academy…”
Christelle reddened slightly, nodding. “Yeah… Uh, hey, Officer Landry…”
“Yes?”
The girl grinned gently. “When we get out of here… I don’t suppose you’d fancy a coffee?”
THE END…?
Art by @Biku, the best partner in crime a Foxlover could have
Edited September 1, 2020 by Foxlover
(see edit history) |
The characters of this story have been aged up and are 21+
Skyla had just woken up in bed and quickly realized why. Her bladder was swollen and was begging for release. As much she wanted to go pee she wasn't allowed to. She looked at her girlfriend, Rosa, pleading for her to wake up. Skyla wasn't allowed to pee without Rosa’s permission.
Ever since the first couples dates and revealing her fetish to Skyla, Rosa would control both of their bladders forcing themselves to hold it for long periods of time. Skyla wasn’t at first used to her large bladder being so full, but after 2 years of being together her bladder grew accustomed to the feeling, allowing her to hold as much as Rosa.
Skyla squeezed her thighs together as she took one hand and pushed hard against her pussy. The other hand went to her bladder to massage it. She was hoping to find comfort but her efforts only slightly decreased how badly she wanted to go pee. Waking up Rosa seemed like a good option, she feared that Rosa would punish her as she had done before. Her only option was just to wait for Rosa to wake up.
Skyla was trying to squirm as little as possible as to not wake up her girlfriend. However she couldn’t stay still completely. She was slowly rocking back and forth on her side. Time went on as Skyla's bladder continued to be filled with more liquid. She moaned as she feel Herself getting more desperate by the minute. Skyla then grinned as she saw Rosa move in her sleep.
Rosa then opened up her eyes and stared back at Skyla. “Good morning,” She simply said as she lifted the sheets revealing the top half of their naked bodies. Skyla says morning back as Rosa notices Skyla massaging her bulge. “Looks we both need a morning pee,”Rosa took Skyla’s hand away from Skyla's bulge and put it right up against her bulge which was just as big as Skyla’s. Rosa sat up, and went to the edge of the bed. She once again took Skyla’s hand and pulled as she sat next to her.
“We’ll be having breakfast before I decide where we will pee,” She informed Skyla. Without giving a chance for Skyla to respond Rosa stood up and led Skyla downstairs to the kitchen.
“Is it fine if I just cook some fried eggs. It’s hard to concentrate right now,” Skyla remarked as gravity was doing her no favors.
“It’s fine sweetie,” Rosa said as she got out the eggs, while Skyla retrieved a pan and cooking spray. Rosa brought 2 plates over to where Skyla had begun cooking. Rosa went to the dining table where she could sit and admire her girlfriend’s round ass while she struggled to cook. She continued to cook to cook in silence with her focus already being taken in full by her cooking and bladder. She would bounce her knees up and down as spasms started to become more frequent. She finished cooking both eggs in under ten minutes and brought them to the table.
The two of them immediately started to eat once Skyla sat down. “This breakfast tastes great Skyla. You’ll get a reward after we’re done eating,” Rosa remarked. Skyla got aroused wondering what her reward would be as they usually revolved sex. Rosa noticed Skyla's arousal with her erect nipples giving her away. Skyla took huge bites to finish her fried egg. She got up and stood next to Rosa as she just finished eating. One hand was back between her legs and the other was waiting for Rosa’s. Rosa took Skyla’s hand as she shoved her other hand in her crotch. Skyla walked with her to their couch in the living room.
Rosa sat down on the soft couch. She let go of Skyla’s hand to pat her lap signalling for her to sit on her lap. Skyla obeyed sitting her butt right on Rosa’s thighs while her legs ran down the length of the couch. Rosa put her left arm around Skyla’s back to support her and her other hand was rubbing Skyla’s bulge. Skyla was squirming right on top of Rosa.
“Don't worry sweetie after I finish giving you my reward we can both go pee. I just need you to hold it while I give you your rewards” Rosa explained to her.
“Okay. I'll hold it for you Rosa,” Skyla replied to her. Rosa then traveled her hand from Skyla’s bladder to Skyla’s right thigh.
“Honey I need you to spread your legs a little,” Rosa informed Skyla. She complied and shifted her legs apart to reveal her pussy. Rosa took two fingers easily sliding them into Skyla’s wet vagina. “You're always excited for my rewards aren’t you,” Rosa asked.
“Your rewards are the best Rosa. I love you so much,” Skyla stated in between moans. Skyla’s right hand traveled down to her clit using her index and middle finger to pinch it. Rosa sped up her finger thrusts reaching Skyla’s g-spot in no time. Skyla was moaning loudly already getting close to an orgasm. Rosa suddenly moaned as her bladder had a spasm reminding her of its existent. Rosa put her mouth around Skyla’s pink nipple trying to bring her to orgasm as quick as possible. Her tongue circled her areola multiple times before pushing against her nipple directly. This sudden pleasure for Skyla was too much as she orgasmed
Rosa took her mouth off Skyla’s nipple and gave her a quick kiss. As soon as Rosa took her fingers out from Skyla’s vagina she squeezed her thighs together again. Rosa with her now free hand put it on Skyla’s bladder rubbing it gently
“Did you like my reward sweetie,” She asked Skyla.
“Yes I did Rosa, it felt amazing,” Skyla answered. “Please let me pee Rosa. I really have to go,” She pleaded.
“I know you do honey. Come sit between my legs,” Rosa said as she spread her legs for her. Skyla got off Rosa’s thigh facing her back towards her. Rosa wrapped both her arms around right under Skyla’s breasts dragging her until they were touching each other. Rosa’s breasts and bladder were pressed up against Skyla’s back. Rosa’s bladder did not like this new pressure and she let out a quick hot jet of pee onto Skyla’s ass. Skyla’s bladder did not react well to this. It experienced a spasm forcing her to grip her pussy barely holding back a leak. She could feel Rosa grinding her self against Skyla's ass to prevent another leak.
“Okay sweetie I won’t punish you if you pee now, but I want you to keep trying to hold it,” Rosa explained.
“I’ll try to hold it as long as possible,” Skyla promised. Rosa smiled and put her left hand on Skyla’s cheek. They faced each other for a kiss but ended moaning in each other's mouths as spasms were now constantly happening. They exited the kiss as they again faced the same direction. Rosa moved her hand back to the arm of the couch but her right hand reached around and started to rub Skyla’s giant bladder bulge in a circular motion. After a few cycles she stopped her motions and laid her hand right in the middle. She slowly started putting pressure onto Skyla’s bladder immediately resulting in Skyla letting a loud and her breathing becoming even more pronounced. After a couple seconds Rosa stopped increasing the pressure on Skyla’s poor bladder.
“Oh god I have to pee so bad,” Skyla cried out trying to get used to the new pressure Rosa created. Suddenly Skyla felt warmth behind as Rosa started to empty her bladder right behind her. A powerful stream was being absorbed into the couch cushion that they were on. Skyla tried to ignore the noise, but she could not ignore the wetness that was spreading beneath her. Only seconds after Rosa started peeing Skyla joined her sighing in relief.
. “You have trouble holding it when there are liquids around, don’t you sweetie,” Rosa questioned.
“I do Rosa,”Skyla answering Rosa's rhetorical question. Rosa and Skyla finally finished peeing after about a minute. The left side of the couch was completely soaked.
“I’m going to help you get over that today,” Rosa claimed. Skyla got off the couch to face Rosa. She then hugged Rosa nuzzling her face right into Rosa’s soft breasts.
“That would be great Rosa,” Skyla responded, lifting her face so she could see Rosa's face. They both kissed before going to the kitchen to gather some drinks. |
Introducing my latest character, a fledgling witch named Rebecca! I hope you enjoy!
Only the soft trickle of fading sunlight through the windows gave any indication of time’s passage within the library. A comforting silence and stillness existed among the books, only to be occasionally interrupted by the scratching of pen on paper, or the flutter of a flipped page. In one corner sat a young dark-haired woman dressed in a witchy asthetic. She hurriedly jotted down notes in her journal. Across the table she occupied were dozens of reference books stacked in little piles and pushed aside for her real prize, a small book collecting references to esoteric rituals and mediation techniques recorded across history.
The woman—Rebecca—however, understood what the author of the book did not. One of the particularly elaborate rituals documented in the book was more than a simple method to collect one’s self. It was a spell. Perhaps she could not decipher the incantation that thee author left untranslated, but she recognized the cadence and the power the words held. The methodical hand and finger movements, likewise, were more than just gestures to focus the individual “on the moment.” They were casting a spell.
Rebecca smirked at the author’s naivete. Perhaps the only useful thing the author had accomplished, beyond publishing something far greater than she could understand, was shedding some light on what the spell would to accomplish. While the author, for whatever reason, chose not to translate the “ritual’s” incantation, they did note that the ritual’s purpose was to provide the participant with peace of mind. Perhaps the spell was some sort of safety charm or defensive magic. Or maybe it will pay my bills. Rebecca mused to herself.
Once she had finally completed transcribing the spell into her journal, Rebecca felt herself tingle with excitement. She couldn’t contain herself. She needed to try out the spell immediately, see what new magic she had stumbled upon. Rebecca also felt something else. Alright, spell first, and then I can use the little witch’s room. She drummed her fingers on the table softly, pressed her feet firmly into the ground, and readied herself to cast.
“Excuse me,” A pleasant voice rang out from behind Rebecca. “The library is closing. If you can please exit the building, I will take care of your books for you.”
Startled, Rebecca turned to face a middle-aged woman with light hair tied up in a neat bun. The librarian had a mask of kindness on her face to match her warm, if insincere, voice. She waited patiently for Rebecca to gather her things. Okay, well, I guess no spell and no bathroom. That’s Okay. I just… will walk home and try it there.
“Oh, okay. Sorry for keeping you.” Rebecca apologized. She shoved her notebook into a backpack before slinging the back across her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s no trouble.” The librarian smiled. Despite her performance, Rebecca could tell the librarian wasn’t thrilled to clean up after Rebecca. Still, it was business as usual, as far as Rebecca could tell.
Once outside, Rebecca began to understand the gravity of her situation. She bit her lip softly. Rebecca inhaled through her nose, shutting her eyes for a moment, she mentally geared herself for the journey home. “Alright, let’s go.” She began walking down the sidewalk, her gait somewhat stiff and awkward.
Okay. Okay. Okay. I am NOT going to pee my pants. I am definitely going to make it home. It’s only a twenty-minute walk. I can do that. I mean, five minutes ago I didn’t even notice that I needed to use the bathroom. So… uh… what was I thinking. Rebecca’s walking was beginning to resemble something more akin to arrhythmic dancing with irregularly paced and eratic steps.
Alright, new idea. Distract myself again. Think about the spell. The spelly spell. Um… no! Come on. Rebecca curled her fists tightly. So uh, it’s not a combative spell. The incantation is too long, too many hand movements. And it’s not an actual ritual; it’s too short and doesn’t really require any materials or circumstances to be cast. It has to do with um peace of mind. I could REALLY use some peace of mind right now.
It wasn’t so much a conscious decision as much of a compulsion for Rebecca when her fingers began to mimic the diagrams she had copied from the book. Not unlike a maestro conducting an orchestra, her hands moved through the air in steady, precise movements. Sparks of light bounced off her dancing fingers. In a soft, somewhat sing-songy voice she spoke the words of the incation. She wasn’t sure what she was saying; couldn’t even pinpoint what language she was speaking. Slavic maybe? It didn’t matter. She didn’t strictly need to know what she was saying to cast the spell. Knowing would undoubtedly help the process but right now she just needed to cast. She REALLY needed to cast.
Deliberation was only one aspect of casting. Incantation and hand positioning were just as vital to performing magic, and in lieu of a clear goal, they would have to carry Rebecca through the spell. Besides, there some vague sense of what the spell would accomplish. Rebecca also had a hope for what the spell would accomplish. She hoped it would keep her dry.
The last words of the spell passed between Rebecca’s lips, her hands moved into the final position, finishing the spell. The spell should have cast. Why didn’t the spell cast? Throughout the spell, Rebecca had felt the familiar build-up of magic: first in her chest, then spread through her body, racing through her arms like lightning. She had seen the energy of the spell ripple from her hands, crackle off her fingertips, and sizzle in the air between movements. Then at the last moment, it died. There was no release. No final eruption of magic bursting out of her hands like fireworks.
“What the hell?” Rebecca demanded from nobody in particular. “God damn it!”
Immediately she began again. Vague—possibly Slavic—words in a sing-song voice. Light bouncing from fingertips, dancing in the air. She nurtured the energy that crackled inside her chest, let it grow and spread within her, coaxed it to travel down her arms, begged it to exit her, and enter the world. The spell declined. She began again. And again. And again. With each failure, her desperate fervor grew, more and more she pushed herself to perform, to bend the fundamental nature of the world to her whims. Each effort ended the same.
Very quickly, Rebecca’s desperation had less and less to do with her full bladder. Her dancing began to descend into waddling, and she openly grabbed herself between attempts. She didn’t care. Or rather she didn’t notice. Her body was regulating itself, waging war independent of her awareness. Her focus was on finding the flaw in the spell, not making sure she didn’t look like a fool in public. It was a miracle she didn’t just let go.
It’s not a requirement thing. There were no requirements specified. I mean, the author didn’t even translate the incantation, so maybe he left out three tablespoons of eye of newt or… god damn it! They can’t do this to me. The spell has to be complete. This has to work. It isn’t fair!
Rebecca’s hand movements became more and more sloppy. Her efforts to cast the spell were rushed; practically spitting out the words, an extra edge to how she enunciated, her movements a little more forceful in their execution. She balled her fists till her knuckles turned white between attempts and stomped her feet in frustration. Why the hell wasn’t the spell working? Her mind raced a mile a minute, but not towards troubleshooting the spell; instead, it echoed bitter sentiments towards the author and things she’d like to do to pay them back for this cruel trick.
Rebecca bit back the urge to scream. There was no longer a finesse to how she performed the spell. It was more akin to a monkey at a typewriter trying to write a novel. Perhaps if there were an infinite amount of Rebeccas, they’d manage to cast the spell. But there was not an infinite amount of Rebeccas. There was one, and she couldn’t figure out the damn spell. She could barely keep from wetting herself, even if she wasn’t entirely conscious of that fact.
By the time Rebecca made it to her apartment, she must have completed hundreds of permutations of the spell. However, many of the last few attempts were more or less the same exact effort just with increasing frustration and bitterness behind the words and movements. She stumbled through her door with one hand buried in her crotch. She was barely cognizant of taking off her shoes. One more try. It has to work. I’m so close.
Rebecca managed to draw back the acid in her voice as she recited the incantation, move with a little more grace and a little less anger. This time the spell was going to work. It had to work. She didn’t know what she was saying, but Rebecca spoke the words as if she was commanding the world to shift around her, bend to her will, and do something spectacular. The energy flowed through her, traveled down her arms, her palms tingled as the spell approached its climax. She spoke the final word.
The spell left Rebecca’s body with a shudder, her eyes fluttered, and she sighed deeply, swooning slightly. The air was electric. Goosebumps ran down her arms and legs, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, her eyes struggled to focus for a moment. The spell finally cast, and the frustration she felt washed away in an instant. She couldn’t help but smile.
…What did the spell do? There wasn’t a flash of light or puff of smoke. There wasn’t even a sudden flock of doves or a rabbit crawling out of a hat. Rebecca had absolutely no idea what she just did. Maybe she had an invisible forcefield now? Or perhaps that spell really did just give you peace of mind. Except she didn’t feel very peaceful. In fact…
“Oh my god.” Rebecca collapsed to her knees. She had already had one hand in her crotch, but she quickly added her second hand to the effort, an epic battle for the dryness of her panties. She bounced on her knees to regain her composure. Without the distraction of her frustration or wonder, she was suddenly very conscious of how close she was to losing control, which was very close. A groan escaped her lips.
She hadn’t noticed how rapidly she had grown desperate on the walk home. She hadn’t noticed how often her hand found itself tucked between her legs after each attempt, nor had she noticed how often she stopped to cross her legs, bend over at the waist, bounce up and down while trying to piece together what was inhibiting the spell. She didn’t even notice when the twenty-minute walk had nearly run her an hour.
Now all she could do was notice. Notice how her bare midriff bulged and pressed against her suddenly very tight denim shorts, and how incredibly painful that pressure was. Notice how every fiber of her being begged for sweet relief, how the agonizing blockage preventing the spell from releasing was now echoed by the raging river that raced to the end of her peehole only to be stopped short of relief, raging waves now beating angrily at the barrier between the ocean inside her and her dry underwear. It consumed all her focus, just like the spell she had done moments before.
Rebecca mustered every ounce of strength she could to struggle to her feet. Both hands stayed glued to her crotch while she waddled to her bathroom. She didn’t run through the door because she could barely hobble, but she hobbled as fast as she could towards her porcelain savior. Relief was within reach. She reached the threshold of the bathroom, tears in her eyes, and bounced backward with a crash.
Rebecca’s panties weren’t quite dry anymore. Her fingers dug into the skin between her thighs, and her body rocked on its side in an effort to stop the hot rush of wetness spreading in her underwear. She managed to stem the flow, but just barely. It took her a few moments to be secure in that, though. Even longer to work her way back up to her feet. She hobbled towards the doorway and leaned her forward against the air between her and the bathroom. She met resistance. A force kept her from the bathroom.
“What?” Her eyes were wild, panicked. Then it dawned on her. “Right, right. The spell, it uh, solidified air?” How does that give me peace of mind exactly?
Rebecca pressed her shoulder against the invisible barrier and tried to push hard enough to force it open. It didn’t work. No amount of force seemed to gain entry. “Okay. What the hell? Let me in, Damn it!” Rebecca dared to withdraw a single hand to bang against the barrier. The barrier did not respond. “Okay. New plan.” Rebecca waddle marched to her kitchen to grab a knife. “I’m going to rip you to shreds.” She wiggled her hips and curled her toes before plunging her knife into the doorway. The blade didn’t pierce the barrier; instead, the barrier deflected the knife, and Rebecca narrowly missed accidentally stabbing her thigh. A spurt of pee escaped her.
“You can’t keep me out of my own bathroom, damn it!” What was the trick to this spell? Was there a magic word she needed to end it? How long would it take for her to figure out what the word was? Rebecca wasn’t going to last much longer, let alone long enough to figure out how to dispel the barrier. She crossed her legs tightly, shaking from side to side. A quick flourish of her free hand created a bright ball of blue light, burning with energy. She felt herself begin to lose control. She had to break that barrier down NOW. The ball of light lurched forward, crashing into the barrier. The walls shuddered with the collision, but the energy only seemed to ripple across the barrier impotently. No! “No!”
The raging ocean inside her escaped her body with a shudder. A golden shower rained out beneath her, splattering on her carpet, soaking into the fibers. Rivers of hot pee drizzled down her legs snaking across the inside of her thighs, dancing along the backside of her calves. Her tights glistened with her wetness. The hand she left holding herself was saturated with the rush of pee gushing between her fingers. She wasn’t holding anything back.
Rebecca collapsed to her knees, letting the last of her bladder’s contents trickle out of her. She rested her forehead against the barrier in defeat. All the defiance and strength had left her body. She had emptied herself of pee and ideas. “It’s my bathroom. Just let me in.” She pleaded. “Please.”
Rebecca suddenly lurched forward; the resistance of the barrier no longer present. She found her face pressed against the cold tile of her bathroom floor. She had finally gotten in.
“Are you kidding me?” She screamed.
I really hope you enjoyed this story! I had a lot of fun writing it and coming up with this new character. I actually posted a drawing of Rebecca wetting in my art thread if you'd like to check that out. Anyway let me know what you think! |
Jenny. 20 Years old, 5'5 feet tall wakes up in the morning her eyes not really wanna open but as she pays a glance over to the Alarm Clock she sees that she is gonna be late.
Jumping out of her Bed and tries to get ready as quick as Possible neglecting one important Duty.
The Bathroom she walks outside of the Apartment she lives in and walks towards the Bus stop after walking for 5 minutes she gets the first sign of her Bladder "No i cant go back or im gonna be late for real. Just gotta hold it" she thinks to herself.
She arrives 3 minutes later at the Busstop feeling her bladder aching but not much against the Jeans and her Black Thong.
Sitting down she squints a bit but she tries to relax. After a while of waiting she quickly got onto the bus and found a Good spot to sit, only after 2 minutes she felt way more desperate as the holes in the street are making her Bladder move the Pee all around. Feeling like she is gonna wet herself here and now she decides to close her legs tight and lighten her belt a bit before trying to stop herself from moving so much.
10 minutes later and she is close to the Bus Station where she needs to get out but her Bladder is aching alot feeling it pressing against her Thong and jeans she really is desperate and even considers just letting it soak into the Seat. But she is going outside the bus now.
Only to sigh knowing she gotta go into work with a About to burst bladder.
Now finally arrived at her Work she gets herself inside of the elevator trying her best not too Pee herself, she waddles and presses on her bladder but she sees someone called the elevator with the Key all the way upwards but she needs only to get halfway.
Knowing this is gonna take a long while she just relaxes and holds on. 5 minutes later she finally is on her Floor, ignoring everybody she walks towards the Ladies bathroom and as she is inside relief comes into her Mind.
Nearly ripping her jeans and thong down as she got the so long awaited release.
What she didnt knew her desperation caused her to not lock the Door so pretty soon suddenly there stands a Woman with a Needy Bladder aswell staring at her Peeing. "Oh Gosh ! Now i need even more badly hurry up !"
Embarrassed i said "Get in and close the door! Or you want everybody to watch me Pee ?"
She got inside as told but it didnt took long before i saw a Naked Ass right infront of me: its a really beautiful ass.
After locking the door she just starts to pee between my legs into the Toilett. "Dont tell anybody about this okay?" As soon we both finished i wasnt done i wanted more.
Thats why i suddenly started to push my tongue against her wet slit and eat her out. She doesnt say much to it she just moans and rubs my Pussy making me moan. We continue like this until we both cum. Trying to leave unnoticed to get back to work.
Jenny just cant seem to get what just happened out of her Head, she just had peed into the same toilet at the same time with Alexandra the Hot beauty of the Service Line.
Since her whole time at this workplace she never got herself to ask her out for stuff, Now she even found out Alexandra is a naughty one just going with it when licked.
So she gets a bit more curious. Starting to search her Social Media for her relationship status. "Currently single wanna try new Things with a Woman"
That felt like a Invitation to her, thats why she gets up hides under her Desk and waits for her. Her dumb but naughty idea is simple, she waits for her to come back as soon she spreads her legs she goes ahead and starts licking Alexandras Crotch if she is right she will let her do it with pleasure or silently get her away before she could think more Alexandra already came back and sat down legs a bit spread.
Going for it jenny raises her head under her skirt and starts licking the Pink Thong she wears under.
With surprise Alexandra looks down only to see Jenny, after two confused mimics she goes ahead and lets her do!
Jenny knew she can go fully at it now pushing the thong aside only to see a rapidly wettening Pussy right infront of her for her to eat and lick.
Alexandra squirming around in her chair for nothing longer than 2 minutes before she came into jennies mouth as silenty she could.
Pulling jenny back up she scolds her a bit but then compliments her on her work and gives her her Address and Number.
Happy Jenny goes into the Kitchen to get herself some Water.
What she didnt knows is that Alexandra soon followed and said "Hey if you can hold out your bladder until we are at my Place after drinking enough cold water to be full. Im gonna give you a reward at my Place "
And so she started chugging.
Jenny made a little Bet with Alexandra just 5 minutes before, knowing that if she wins she gets a nice reward.
Alexandra didnt said what kind of reward but her Mind just kinda tells her its gonna be a nice one.
Lunch break over and Jennies bladder condition didnt changed much yet so she could normally sit on her work Chair and do her Paper and E mailing work.
1 Hour before jenny and Alexandra have finished their Work Day, Jenny can feel her Bladder starting to ache but she is used to it a little bit so she can hold back any Pee dancing.
10 minutes before they can leave she started to Pee dance a little which makes Alexandra smirk over to her what she didnt told Jenny is what Alexandra gets when jenny fails.
As soon the time is over she waves goodbye to everyone except Alex and they make their way to the Elevator, inside it drives up and up and up even though they need to go down.
"God damb Priority Keys "she thought to herself as she after whole 5 minutes arrive down at the Lobby.
Alexandra pulls out her Phone and shows Jenny the Way and says "We meet there. If you lose dont pull anything down just wet yourself as proof of loss"
Jenny gulped but nodded, Alex left for her Car and drives away.
Looking at the Way she has to go she finds out she either has to go by foot or needs to run for the Bus that comes in 5 minutes. She values her Options "if i run that fast im sure gonna wet myself " she thought, its 30 minutes drive or 2 Hour Walk.
She ends up running really fast feeling the Pee in her Bladder moving around really little as it were so full but she could hear it, she actually catches the Bus but as she thought her Bladder didnt liked that and is really bursting as soon she sat down on an Chair.
Pushing two of her Hands down to her Crotch trying to comfort herself some. "You only have to manage to hold it for 30 more minutes you can do it " she thought to herself.
10 minutes later and she feels so badly about to pee she cant take her Mind off it. Potty dancing and pushing to make it feel less pressured.
20 Minutes now Passed and its still an 10 hour drive but her Mind is already at losing as the Bus drives through a Bump, she then gets an Idea how to cheat a bit if she is gonna leak a tiny bit she looks into her Bag while pushing with one hand onto her Crotch only to pull out some handkerchiefs stuffing alot of them into her Thong.
25 minutes only 5 minutes remain and her Idea already made sense cause the next Bump caught her offguard and she shot a small jet off her Steaming hot Pee into the handkerchiefs, feeling the warmth.
She now finally got out of the Bus and arrived at Alexandras Home feeling like she almost did it she takes all her courage and finds alexandras door, she throws the Handkerchiefs into the nearby bin and really soon rings the Bell.
Alexander opens the door and smirks, she only had to look into Jennies eyes and she knew she still has too.
"Congratz you won now come in and sit on there " she had opened the Bathroom door for her beforehand.
Jenny smiles as she potty dances her way towards the room as suddenly Alexandra closes it and places a huge bucket under Jenny.
She wanted to complain alot but her mind was just at the relief she felt at seeing the toilett and hearing the Words she couldnt hold it anymore.
She sits down on the big bucket and starts peeing a Huge Moan of relief escapes her lips as Alexandra can watch the Huge pressure Yellow stream of hot Piss shoot directly through her clothes into the Bucket.
"You Really did it and sorry but i couldnt let you pee in peace without seeing you wet yourself "she chuckles a bit.
"Now lets talk about your reward "
To be Continued if wanted and I get motivation.
Edited September 1, 2020 by JennyCrimson
(see edit history) |
Chapter 3:
Sarah stood watching Will roll the roller over the wall consistently, thoroughly, and in precise order. Everything had to be perfect where Will was concerned. His attention to detail was refreshing and she loved that he focussed so intently on everything he did. For a few minutes she forgot her full bladder as she enjoyed gazing at her handsome boyfriend as he filled the roller once again and spread paint evenly and logically over her wall. Tingling from her own full bladder she allowed her mind to wander, imagining her own naked body as the wall and Will’s tongue as the roller as she felt the moisture roll first up her body from her toes to her forehead then back down again as Will rolled the paint back down. She shivered as she felt his tongue in her imagination as it brushed over her nipples, her tummy, her full bladder and then over her swollen vaginal lips as her urethra throbbed and her clitoris grew and hardened. Instinctively Sarah reached between her legs with one hand as the other touched her erect and sensitive nipples through the overalls and her t-shirt and bra.
Will focused fully on painting the wall as he diligently rolled paint over the smooth wall making sure to do so evenly throughout, his arm moving up and down and up and down rhythmically as his now hard and erect penis longed for a similar action too. The words his sexy girlfriend had just said tantalising his body as he thought about the woman he couldn’t see behind him but could completely visualise. ‘I need to go to the toilet’; seven simply words that uttered from one woman set his whole body alight like a forest fire.
The room fell silent other than from the squelching of paint and swish swash movements of the roller on the wall.
As Will paused to refill the tray with more paint he turned and glanced at Sarah who had one hand touching her breasts and one at the top of her legs.
‘You ok honey?’
Will’s voice shook Sarah back to reality with a jolt, sending a strong urge from her bladder. She had to pee! Moving from foot to foot in an obvious pee dance she panted to Will.
‘I really need to pee Will. Can you help me move the furniture so I can go please?’
Will looked at Sarah in awe. The way her trainers bounced up and down slightly, the way her thighs rubbed, the way her legs bobbed up and down frantically, the way her bottom wiggled from side to side as she attempted to push the armchair along to get access to the only door to the stairs which lead to the only bathroom in her house...
Will was transfixed. His eyes fixed on one body, his heart beating fast, his mind whizzing and his penis throbbing. He could take his girlfriend right now, on the floor of her own lounge, so easily, so beautifully, so quickly even! She radiated sex appeal that even the worry of the paint drying uneven wasn’t enough to stop him getting closer to his beautiful princess.
Sarah tried pushing the armchair even though she knew the sofa, cabinet, bookcase, TV stand, coffee table and uplighter were all preventing it moving. Her need to release her bladder was consuming her thoughts and stopping her thinking rationally. She jumped as she felt Will’s arms reach around the side of her as he cradled her from behind, fondling her sensitive breasts and rubbing lightly on her bladder.
‘You know I love it when you are bursting darling!’
Sarah’s whole body burnt with passion and need as Will’s tongue kissed the back of her neck and nibbled her ear lobe. Sarah was so turned on but equally very uncomfortable with a full bladder that was unrelenting with its need to release.
‘Oh Will. I fancy you so much. I really do. You get me going honey so very much but...’
Will turned Sarah around and with one hand on her bottom and one behind her head he gently drew her close and kissed her deeply.
Will could kiss! Boy could he kiss! Sarah couldn’t resist as their tongues met and entwined and danced together as their lips interlinked and explored every millimetre of the other’s existence, sending waves of intense need and desire through every vein in her body. But the throbbing, the ache, and the agonising tingling between her legs was not only distracting but incredibly annoying. Even knowing what her desperate body was doing to Will Sarah couldn’t help but long to be alone and pee.
Sarah pulled back as another urge surged through her body.
‘Save that thought Will! We have the rest of the day, the rest of the week even...and we haven’t even finished the first wall...I’ll just go out the back door, in the front door, and run upstairs and I’ll be right back!
Before Will knew what was happening Sarah ran from his arms, squirming badly and he watched as she hobbled through the kitchen to the back door of her house where he knew she would have to then walk through her own garden, then two neighbours gardens then down the side of the end terraced house then along the path past the same two neighbours gardens then down her own drive and into her own house all before she could pee! He imagined the pressure between her legs, the huge amount of liquid he knew was inside her, and he wondered if she would make it all the way round it all before peeing herself. The very thought made him harder than ever as he watched the most beautiful girl in the world grab herself between her legs and march on the spot as she pulled the handle on her own back door down to get outside.
‘God no! It’s locked! The key is in my coat pocket...arghh...which is hanging up by the front door!’ |
One of the highest compliments an erotic author could get! Thank you. So glad you are enjoying it so far...
Chapter 7:
Having been the leader taking Sarah to new and indulgent territory just moments before Will now felt so terrified, so dependent, so absolutely desperate for relief. The thought that had this been a normal day at work where he would readily hold his bladder all day long conflicted him. How could he possibly be in such urgent need when it was only late morning, midday at most? Why was his bladder failing him when it had so faithfully stood firm for so many years? Feelings of failure washed over him once again as his hand felt the wet patch from earlier on his overall and his brain replayed the horror of his significant wetting at school aged 10. He’d fought valiantly for the past almost 19 years to conquer his body, even to the extreme extent of only being able to pee in his own home, and now here he was fighting off strong bladder spasms that were putting such intense pressure on his body he was weighted under the burden of its grasp.
He needed Sarah now. She just had to move things out his way, prepare a pathway for him like she’d done so many times before, and then it would all be ok.
Except she wasn’t moving fast enough and his body was crippling with the intensity of the load it had to bare.
Sarah couldn’t see Will suffer. He’d just brought her so much pleasure she owed it to him to help him in his time of need. She stepped towards Will, and while his own hands massaged his crotch and bladder, she swiftly and promptly pulled down the sleeves of his overall and yanked it down over his descended bladder and down over his light coloured chinos, seeing clearly the shape of his half erect penis through his trousers even with his hands tightly gripping and rubbing.
Will didn’t object at all as Sarah approached him and undid the buttons on his
overall before pulling it down over both arms and tugging it over his clothes to his knees. He loved Sarah’s hands touching him and helping him, though he still couldn’t dare lose concentration for a split second or his penis would explode. Oh how he ached to urinate. His entire body pulsed with need, from his curled tensed toes to his sweating forehead. But now his overall hung from his knees it was impossible to walk, let alone access, the upstairs bathroom even if the way had been clear. Will moaned as another surge engulfed him and he felt warm liquid once again surge the length of his dick. The second before eruption always gave him an adrenaline high, a unique mix of sexual climax and excitement so similar to being about to cum. It’s like the two were inexplicably linked in his mind and could not be separated. He gulped and turned red as the tip of his dick dribbled into his already damp boxers as it prepared for full relief.
Sarah shivered at Will’s moan. She could easily touch herself and climax a second time but she knew Will’s need was far greater than hers. Sacrificially she ignored her own desire and concentrated fully on the man she loved. Grabbing the basin she had just peed in herself less than 15 minutes ago she placed it on the floor as she tried, and failed, to undo the clip of Will’s trousers. His constant moving, gripping and the extension of his bladder made pulling his trousers down impossible. She had to go with plan B.
Efficiently and suddenly she grasped at Will’s fly and somehow managed to unzip it despite his clutching and grabbing. How she had longed for so many years to be able to fish a bursting penis out of a man’s open fly for him and now she was actually doing it! She just never imagined it would be for a man she first met in her counselling office and to happen in her own kitchen!
With no words necessary she pushed her hand inside Will’s open fly knowing exactly where to feel for his quivering dick. Grabbing Will’s damp half erect member she attempted to pull it into the open, wondering why she was struggling then suddenly realising she hadn’t went inside Will’s boxers!
Will wished he could press fast forward on Sarah’s actions. He understood exactly what she was trying to do the second she placed the basin of her own still warm urine on the ground. He looked at the pale yellow liquid with a mix of jealously and frustration. How easily Sarah had actually pissed even with her knickers on. Was this how other people peed? Was it really that simple? Yes he’d had a few breakthrough moments of pissing with Sarah’s support but still, even a month after meeting her, he still couldn’t fully pee in any other toilet other than hers or his own. Anxiety overruled his body more times that Will could admit.
Meanwhile his beloved angel was clearly trying to help him and he had to follow her lead. Yet when she pressed against his swollen bladder to try and undo his trousers he wanted to shout at her and swear! It was almost more than he could bare. But feeling her hand reach in his crotch through his open fly; now that was something very sexual and special indeed. He’d longed for a woman to do that for more years that he could remember and here it was suddenly happening. Despite being full of urine he could feel his penis respond to her touch even through his boxers. He closed his eyes as another dribble leaked and he tried not to laugh with excitement as Sarah finally realised she also needed to touch him through his boxers if she had any hope of getting his penis out in the open. He tried to hold back, for her sake as much as his own, as he waited those frantic seconds as his lover finally brought his penis into the open.
Sarah gazed dreamily at Will’s anatomy in her hand. No matter how often she saw it, touched it, felt it, it always made her excited and aroused. With one hand aiming Will’s wonderful willy at the basin she pushed her other hand between the legs of her gym leggings and rubbed, hearing the beautiful sound of soaked knickers against her leggings and feeling the scrumptious warm wetness against her crotch.
All the was needed now was for Will to relax. |
Chapter 10:
There was something familiar about the basin his pee had just landed in. Why hadn’t he noticed it sooner?
Looking down at the basin of urine on the floor in front of him Will blinked then looked up at Sarah.
‘Sarah where did you get this basin?’
‘I don’t remember Will. Does it matter?’
‘It’s just the shape; more rounded rectangular than traditional circular, the colour, obsidian black if I am not mistaken? Even the grain of the plastic, the glint, the depth of the turn...I once spent hours searching online for a sink bowl just like that. You know the only place I could get one from was France would you believe. And yes I did pay to get it delivered but I ordered matching kitchen utensils, a brilliant draining board and pots with the exact same shade of black handle. I like matching and I just can’t believe you actually have the very same bowl Sarah. How incredible is that? Don’t you just love that shade?’
Will was animated, relaxed and saying more than he had since arriving at Sarah’s house three hours previously. As he picked up the basin holding Sarah’s urine to examine it more both Will and Sarah were shocked when Will’s penis suddenly seemed to come alive and a long spurt of urine arched out and was caught by Will inside the very basin he had a sudden interest in.
Sarah was bemused by Will’s fascination in a everyday simple item. She certainly hadn’t searched for hours for a cheap kitchen item and had more than likely just put it in her trolley at the supermarket when shopping for food or picked it up at a bargain shop in the retail park. Neither the colour nor the shape meant anything to her and come to think of it she couldn’t even recall that she’d even picked up a black one whenever she had bought one. She even had a sudden but vague memory that her washing up bowl was in fact navy blue. She stood up and strained to look inside her sink seeing the edge of her own washing basin still in the sink where it belonged. Sitting back down she tried to think where the one in Will’s shaking damp hands had come from.
Seeing Will’s hands tremble and almost drop the plastic basin full of urine Sarah reached over and placed her hands on top of Will’s, pulling her chair closer as the basin now rested between Will’s knees. As her hands touched Will’s her eyes fixed carefully on Will’s penis which now hung just above the bowl and from which urine was steadily dripping. Sarah knew better than to bring this fact to Will’s attention, realising instantly that in doing so his body would once again clam up and he would be left unable to pee yet again.
Touching the black basin, which Will seemed to still be staring at and examining visually in detail, brought a clear flashback to Sarah and she instantly remembered a moment so clear it was as if it had just happened.
‘Will I’ve just remembered something! This IS your basin silly! Did you store it under your sink upside down over your cleaning products? Remember the night we went to The Starling? You got out your car in the car park at your apartment and got into my car and you...well you remember now? I came into yours and while you showered I went into your kitchen and got some towels, cloths, cleaning spray and lifted this basin from under your sink....it was in my car all that night and I must have just brought it into mine and put it under my sink and forgotten all about it. I’m sorry honey. I had no idea you were missing it!’
Will shifted his gaze from the bowl to Sarah as she spoke, concentrating on the bridge of her nose because eye contact wasn’t natural and often overwhelming. He watched as her cheeks turned a powdery pink, her mouth moved beautifully as she spoke and her nose twitched every so slightly. His beautiful princess, his angel, so perfect and alluring, so forgiving and understanding and now bringing back fond memories his mind was already replaying. Yes he’d missed that basin, even feeling stressed and confused as to it’s whereabouts often, but all could be forgiven when he thought about the reason Sarah had it.
Will pulled Sarah closer, his fingers running through her shiny auburn hair once again, his tongue exploring every detail of hers, his penis hardening but still hanging outside his trousers and the basin wedged between his knees as his feet gripped the back legs of the chair and hooked behind them and his knees pressed the basin firmly. Sarah’s body pulled closer still, her own knees straddling the basin and ensuring it didn’t fall as her hands held Will’s face as they kissed deeply.
All the while just as it did back the night Will had an accident in Sarah’s car while they kissed in much the same way, Will’s penis oozed loudly and steadily with warm urine as his bladder finally relaxed and emptied into the bowl as Will’s mind and body consumed itself with Sarah in every way possible. Sarah wanted to fuck Will like crazy and hearing him piss so long only intensified that feeling greatly.
If this was what it took to help Will pee she was willing to help him all day everyday for however many years it took. |
Chapter 13:
Sarah made the drinks and sat attentively opposite Will. For a brief moment she allowed herself to image how things could have been had she continued to be Will’s therapist. Dating him was magical and exciting but it didn’t magically make his issues disappear. Will rarely spoke about things, not even to her, so if he had something to say she had all the time in the world to listen. She had promised him many times she would still help him even if she couldn’t see him formally. She would move heaven and earth for Will. She reached out to touch his hand which he readily took.
Will was troubled. So much had changed since meeting Sarah that at times he felt like his whole world had been flipped over. The last month felt like a dream but at times a nightmare too. Every night he tired to sleep he would lie awake in bed unable to shake flashbacks to the time he peed himself in Sarah’s car before they went on their first date, or the time he pissed in the door storage of her car because he was unable to control his need, and even worse the time he brought himself to sexual satisfaction in the office of her mum’s nursing home having watched his girlfriend squirm in desperation for a full hour. Shame and guilt consumed Will as he bowed his head and tried to find the words to talk to Sarah.
Sarah ran her thumb along the back of Will’s hand gently. She looked at the fingers which often stroked her in places no man ever had before, the palm which had pressed against her rock hard clitoris and driven her crazy with desire, the finger tips that swirled on her vaginal lips and made her dizzy with desire. Just stroking and touching Will’s hand set her heart on fire. She tried to cast her lustful thoughts aside as Will’s voice once again sent her head in a whirl of sexual excitement.
‘I’m sorry I let you down Sarah.’
‘Will, you don’t let me down. What makes you think you do?’
‘I’m a failure Sarah. You deserve better.’
‘Will, you are not a failure. You have just decorated a full wall of my lounge perfectly. That’s not a failure, is it? You have a well paid job where you are well respected and successful. That’s not failure, is it? You own your own apartment and maintain it spotlessly single handily. That’s not failure. You drive a very posh, expensive car. That’s not failure in anyone’s books. You are handsome, intelligent, practical, gentle, kind, sexy and my God you give me the most incredible orgasms...none of that is failure in any way, is it? So what makes you think you are a failure, my friend?’
‘My penis.’
‘Go on.’
Will paused to drink his coffee while it was still warm. His heard was racing and his back sweating. He’d got this far, he may as well blurt it all out now.
‘It fails me all the time. Always has done. Right from when I was 10.’
‘You mean from the day you had an accident in school?’
‘Yes. I just don’t understand Sarah. I never have done. Why when I was bursting for the toilet that day would my penis not work? Have I got a faulty one? I hate it.’
Tears began forming in Will’s eyes as the weight of his burden spilled out.
‘I don’t trust my own body Sarah. Sometimes it works when I don’t want it to like when I had that accident in your car. You know I have so many suits for work Sarah because you know I can’t use the toilets at work. Until I met you I didn’t even have the courage to find them. I know where they are now but I still can’t quite bring myself to use them. That sounds like a failure to me. I am so bloody desperate to piss when I get home from work everyday that many times I can’t even get my fly undone in time. What sort of man pisses himself in front of his own toilet? One time I started pissing going up the staircase leaving a trail of pee all the way to my front door. I thought the neighbours were going to bang my door and get the police to speak to me that whole week. I cried like a baby every night for a week then. My penis is broken Sarah. It must be. Even using the photo of my toilet at home like you suggested hasn’t helped. I still can’t piss anywhere except home, well unless you are with me that is. Even if you are with me I don’t usually end up using a toilet do I?’
Sarah wanted to answer but before she could Will took a breath and started again.
‘It’s not even just peeing either. I’m a failure at the other stuff too. I had the TV on one night because I couldn’t sleep. It was a film of some sort with a scene with a woman stripping off. I watched it Sarah but you know something; I didn’t even get hard. Nothing. Not even a little bit. But if I go onto porn hub and type in ‘woman desperate to pee’ I get so aroused I cum after the first or second video. If you so much as squirm, or cross your legs, and lord knows if you say you need the bathroom at all, I am rock hard and shaking with desire. That’s not right is it? That’s why I am a failure.’
Once again Sarah was ready to reply but once again Will continued.
‘I let you down Sarah. I pissed myself like a baby before our first date. I ruined your car by pissing in the door storage. I wouldn’t even allow you to finish watching a film at the cinema because I couldn’t hold my bladder. God I even pissed in a sink in MacDonalds and all over the hand dryer. What sort of idiot does that? And there’s something else...remember the Saturday I went to your mum’s nursing home with you? Remember you were desperate for the toilet but you didn’t want to leave your mum and then we had that meeting and you heard that really awful news? Do you know what happened when, who was it? Mandy? Yes that was her! When she took you to the toilet and I was left alone...
My penis failed me that time too you know. I’m so so sorry Sarah. Really I am. You need to know that I didn’t mean to be disrespectful or anything. It’s just...’
Will couldn’t find the words anymore as he rested his head face down on the table and sobbed into his hands.
‘Sarah I masterbated in the office that day and lost control. I’m so very sorry.’ |
Chapter 19:
Sarah, thankfully, saw the funny side despite her urgent state.
‘Well they usually don’t result in this Will. I guess we should have gone before we left. Look, I don’t know about you, but I honestly can’t hold this any longer.’
Walking closer to Will as she squirmed, and checking no-one was in ear shot, Sarah whispered.
‘Help me find a tree to pee behind Will. Please!’
Will looked around, one hand clamped tight over his erect penis as the noises and slight moans of his girlfriend’s desperation turned him on greatly. What sort of tree was Sarah wanting him to find? A yew tree with its spread out branches but thin leaves, or maybe a sycamore tree with its tall but thinner trunk, or was she wanting an oak tree with its wider routes and broader trunk to hide behind? He was spoiled for choice, even more so if Sarah included shrubs and bushes. Unsure what was best and sensing Sarah’s urgency he cleared his throat and asked.
‘Which tree honey? There’s loads!’
‘Will, I know that! Just let’s find somewhere, ANYWHERE where I can go without anyone seeing. You might be able to wait but I absolutely cannot!’
Sarah was stressed, frustrated and getting more annoyed at Will by the second. Her urethra was throbbing so fast and hard against her still damp knickers it was like a volcano about to erupt any second. Why did Will need everything explicitly explained in detail? Could he not just pick up on even the most simplest of social clues? She couldn’t wait for him to rate trees for their suitability or work out their trunk circumferences in relation to her body size. This was an emergency! She’d just have to deal with things herself!
Ignoring Will Sarah clambered off the pathway to the nearest tree she could find and,hiding behind it as best she could, she hunched down and began pulling her leggings and knickers down as she heard leaves rustling. Tightening her weary urethra as best she could she paused and looked past the tree seeing that Will had disappeared. With no time to care where he was she grabbed the waistband of her clothing and pulled both items past her bottom and thighs and down to her knees. She was just about to relax when a voice interrupted her.
‘Can I join you?’
Sarah jumped as the voice sent shivers down her whole body which in turn sent urine cascading out of her vagina splashing loudly in the undergrowth beneath her feet.
As Sarah ran towards a tree a strong violent spasm came over Will as he knew he too needed to piss so urgently. He’d never pissed behind a tree, or even in the woods at all, having been brought up to believe that peeing anywhere other than a bathroom was disgusting. But his bladder ached, his dick twitched in urgency and he could feel urine right at the very tip about to explode. Gripping his personal area as tightly as possible he followed Sarah behind the tree, unzipped and watched her in awe, his apparatus exposed to the afternoon air and ready to fire.
The sound and sight of Sarah erupting was something Will knew he would never ever forget. It was erotic, mesmerising and utterly beautiful. Seeing her bare bottom exposed and pushed back, her legs bent, her hands holding her clothes at her knees, her feet astride as torrents of liquid soared from her open privates at force made him want to fuck Sarah so hard and urgently. Her sigh of relief was the last straw.
‘Oh my God that was astounding! Show me how...show me how to do that please Sarah.’
Sarah felt so much better now. The stress, tension and pressure suddenly relieved she shook her body then pulled her clothing back up, all the time gazing at Will whose hand surrounded his dick like his life depended on it. She knew he needed to pee, probably ever bit as bad as she had moments before, but so much held him back. He couldn’t continue life as he was and they both knew it. She’d promised to help him and once again he needed her support.
With her voice low, reassuring, and gentle, Sarah was determined Will would master this most fundamental and ancient of skills: pissing against a tree.
‘Will try and relax. Broaden your legs a little. That’s it. Like you are standing at a urinal. Let nature take its course honey. Don’t think about where you are. Maybe try closing your eyes? Don’t hold it too tight. Just aim him. That’s it. Now breathe Will. Deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth, like I showed you before. Don’t think about peeing. You overthink it honey and your body clams up. Pretend I’m not here.’
Will listened and did exactly as he was told. But still his penis seemed to fail him.
Flustered and frustrated Will leaned forward and rested his forehead on the trunk of the tree.
‘I give up. I told you I am a failure Sarah.’
‘Will you are not a failure. Do you want to go back to mine?’
‘I...I can’t. You know what will happen if I try that. The same as what happened in school.’
Breathless and broken Will sighed a deep despondent sigh.
‘I’m dying to piss. Honest I am. Absolutely bursting. Unbelievably desperate. I need to pee so much. Why can’t I do this Sarah? What’s wrong with me?’ |
Chapter 20:
Sarah’s heart went out to Will so much. She knew as well as Will did that if he was to zip up and walk away he wouldn’t get more than five minutes walk away before his body would cave in. It was Will’s greatest fear and while he did have spare clothes at Sarah’s walking in public with drenched clothing wasn’t something either of them wanted. Will had enough struggles already without adding to his troubles.
But Sarah wasn’t even sure what she could do to help.
Will rested his forehead on the tree trunk in frustration, his hand still clutching his penis and aiming it downwards. Was it the hyper awareness of being outside, or his mum’s voice in his head shouting at him that he should hold until home no matter how much he had to go, or was it simply that his mind couldn’t relax unless he was in his familiar and comforting bathroom in his own apartment? Whatever it was he feared he was a life long prisoner to his own body and he wanted the ground to swallow him up right now.
Sarah rubbed Will’s back keeping a vigilant look out for anyone passing by. If only she had let Will bring his phone he could have brought up the photo of his toilet at home and visualised himself there to try and help. It had been her idea and one he was working hard on using, with some limited success. Another strategy was concentrating on his breathing but even that wasn’t working right now. Earlier on at her house she’d got him to relax by talking but out in the open that might attract attention which neither of them needed. The longer Will stood with his body exposed the bigger the risk of them being caught. She needed to think quickly!
‘Will, this might seem silly but it has to be worth a try babe. Are you willing to trust me?’
‘I...I don’t....I don’t have any other option. This is agony!’
Sarah kept her voice low and sheltered Will with her body as much as she could behind the tree.
‘Will, undo your trousers and try pulling them down, your underwear too, the same way I just did. I won’t let anyone see, promise.’
Reluctantly Will undid his clip, rubbing his thighs and squirming as he did. He then undid the top button on his fly and grabbed at the waist of his clothing pulling them down his thighs slightly. Sarah quickly scanned around before turning to see Will.
‘Lower Will. To your knees like I did. Remember how I squatted? Close your eyes and think about the way I hunched down with my trousers around my knees and my bottom dangling. That’s it! Now cup your penis with your hand so that any flow arches over your trousers. Brilliant. Now don’t think about it and...Will that’s it!’
Will listened intently to every word Sarah said and concentrated hard on following her instructions step by step. He’d loved the way Sarah had crouched on her knees with her trousers hanging and her bottom dangling in mid air. It was a sight now engrained on his brain forever and one he knew he would replay in privacy for his own enjoyment many many times. But right now it wasn’t making him hard despite it being one of the most erotic and hot things he’d ever witnessed. The pain and pressure in his bladder was overtaking everything else right now and all Will could think about was doing exactly as his lover, or master, instructed.
Cupping his twitching and aching penis in his hand he guided it gently to aim over his clothing as, hunched like a girl with his bottom barely off the ground, he finally felt a long spurt escape. As wonderful as that felt it startled him and he momentarily lost his balance as his backside fell flat onto the undergrowth sending urine firing into the air like a burst street pipe.
Will didn’t know wether to laugh or cry as Sarah placed her arms at the back of his shoulders and pulled him up as his penis fired warm pee everywhere without stopping. His body felt like an out of control garden sprinkler firing liquid into wild flowers, bushes, leaves and all around the tree trunk in every direction.
Sarah tried to stifle her laugh so as not to draw attention to Will’s plight but seeing a grown man lying on his back shooting pee high into the air at force was hilarious and very erotic. Hearing it splash against nature was a sound she never wanted to forget as she attempted to steady Will and keep his clothes as dry as possible.
Finally Will stopped peeing as he turned his head slightly, sweat drops covering his face as he leaned towards Sarah and kissed her, his penis still hanging down and his clothes still at his knees.
Will pulled away first, laughing loudly, as he attempted to regain his balance, stand up straight and make himself decent again.
‘You feel better now honey?’
Will sighed contentedly. ‘So much so!’
Will linked his arm in Sarah’s as they walked back to hers, happy, relaxed and contented.
‘Sarah, I need to ask you this. Did you get training on therapy like that at university? You are a bloody A star student you know!’
Sarah laughed. For all Will drove her crazy at times he had the most wonderful sense of humour she had ever come across. How had she ever got through life without him? |
Chapter 22:
Despite knowing exactly who was buzzing Will still jumped at the sound of the buzzer. He never had visitors and the only time anyone buzzed was for deliveries and he knew he wasn’t expecting any of those. Wearing only his boxers he walked the length of the hallway as the buzzer went again. He pressed to unlock the main door downstairs then walked back down the hall to the open plan kitchen and lounge to get back to making dinner. It was reassuring to open the fridge and see exactly what had been there that morning: some beef, 1 onions, 2 garlic cloves, ginger, some milk, one yoghurt and a little butter as well as some milk in the door where it always was. That’s how his fridge looked on a Monday and that’s how he needed life to be to cope. Will sliced the beef into strips and placed it in the wok as he heard faint footsteps down his hallway.
‘Will, it’s me, Sarah. Are you ok?’
Sarah wasn’t sure wether she was angry, confused or just worried for Will. Clearly something had triggered a panic attack in him on arriving back to hers but quite what she wasn’t sure. She just needed to know he was ok. Parking in the visitor space in the car park she saw Will’s car right away and even though she couldn’t imagine him anywhere else it still brought comfort. She buzzed flat 14 not even sure Will would answer. Thankfully he did, even if he didn’t say anything. She climbed the communal stairs, let herself in, and walked down Will’s hall calling just to confirm it was her.
Seeing Will in his kitchen cooking as if nothing had happened fascinated Sarah. He could switch from panic mode to calm mode so quickly, especially once in his own environment. With wet hair and wearing just his underwear he looked incredibly sexy and relaxed. He hadn’t answered her previous question so she asked again.
‘Will, are you ok?’
Will hadn’t meant to ignore Sarah but he was focussed on cooking and preoccupied with frying beef, slicing onions and garlic and looking for curry powder. He glanced at Sarah who seemed genuinely worried, but not angry.
‘Yeah. Just hungry. You?’
‘Yes. I’m hungry too. I guess I just wanted to check you were ok. But I can see you are fine so I’ll leave you to it.’ She paused. ‘You know Will if you wanted home for your own routine you know you just needed to say. I won’t ever be mad at you for that.’
Will carried on cooking, the familiarity of making the same meal on the same night calming his mind and body. Not having to look at Sarah and having something to distract him made sustaining conversation so much easier.
‘I know. I’m sorry I ran out like I did. When you get back to yours if you rinse the roller out with turpentine and warm water, tap water should be fine, and soak the tray in warm water that will wash it out. I am sorry I didn’t do that before I left. I wasn’t thinking. And did you say you would just relax upstairs tonight as I didn’t even put the furniture out for you to sit on? And...I left my washing up bowl too!’
‘Right I’ll do that Will. I’ll leave you to it then. There’s....there’s no hurry to finish the decorating if you don’t want to. I’ll sort the furniture tomorrow. Thanks for all you did today. I loved seeing you!’
‘I loved seeing you too.’
Will continued cooking as he suddenly thought about something.
‘Do you want some dinner before you go? There’s enough if you like curry?’
‘You know I love curry Will. If you are sure then that would be lovely. Thank you. Can I help at all?’
‘I’ve never had anyone in my kitchen. I’m not sure...’
‘That’s fine Will. I understand. Where would you like me to sit? Is here ok?’
Will turned and nodded as Sarah pulled a dining chair out and sat down at Will’s immaculate dining table. His whole apartment was spotless, just like he was. It reflected his eye for detail, modern taste and minimalist ways perfectly. Will was a man of order and Sarah just enjoyed watching as he cooked a full curry from scratch without even having to think.
Dinner tasted delicious and Sarah loved just the simple fact of having company to eat, something she’d missed greatly since her mum had had to move to a nursing home two years previously. It was as if Will could read her mind as he smiled at her as they ate curry and drank iced water.
‘How’s your mum doing Sarah? I think of her so much you know.’
‘She’s unfortunately not doing so well Will. I was thinking of going to see her tomorrow since I am off work but I’m not sure if that would confuse her more? She doesn’t seem to know who I am these days though which is heartbreaking.’
Will got excited, not realising or thinking how his animated and delighted look might come across after Sarah had just shared some sad news. But regardless his idea just sounded so perfect to him he had to blurt it out right away.
‘Sarah, I’ve had an idea. You could go see your mum tomorrow and then I can pop back to yours and get the living room finished if you would like? That sounds perfect to me. I’ll get so much more done with you not around!’
Sarah could only nod. For a man who said he loved her his words and actions seemed at odds with that fact a lot at times. She didn’t have the strength to question Will’s idea. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him in her house but it stung to hear him say so brazenly that he preferred it when she wasn’t around. |
Chapter 25:
Sarah sat quietly in the kitchen drinking her tea and gathering her thoughts as Will diligently pained next door. She didn’t feel like eating as nerves at seeing her mum made her stomach feel funny. She hated that feeling of guilt that crept up on her every time she thought about her mum in the home. Will wasn’t the only one struggling at times with feelings of failure; his struggles just happened to be more obvious at times.
Walking past Will, who was engrossed in painting, she went back upstairs and picked up the photographs, not even noticing her pants on the bathroom floor from the middle of the night as her mind ran at sixty miles an hour whirling with all the day had in store. Taking her jacket from the peg by the front door she called through to say goodbye to Will before getting into her car and heading to her mum’s nursing home. She hoped to perhaps even get time to pop into the bank on the way back, though that much she didn’t want Will knowing about, not yet anyway.
Will was delighted with his progress as alone he focussed solely on the project at hand, working from area to area systematically and thoroughly. As he did everyday at work he stopped at exactly 12:30 to drink the coffee from his travel mug and eat his sandwich brought from home. Within 15 minutes it was packed back away in his bag as he stopped to move furniture to access the window wall, once again blocking the door upstairs due to the fact he needed to keep the furniture away from the freshly painted walls and the fact there was just nowhere else for the stuff to go. It wasn’t until he draped the dust sheets back over it all that Will felt a familiar feeling between his legs. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to holding his bladder all day though so he carried on as normal.
Sarah arrived at her mum’s nursing home before 10:30. She signed in and put on the visitor lanyard and was taken to where her mum was in the main lounge. Her mum looked so alone, so lost in her own world, that Sarah wished she could turn the clock back. She wanted to remember the mum who made cakes with her, went on bike runs and read her bedtime stories, not the lonely lost lady staring out the window. Sarah sat beside her mum and tried talking to her for a while showing her the old photographs and whispering happy anniversary to her while kissing her cheek. When the tea trolley came through Sarah poured some for herself and her mum and chose a few biscuits for them both too.
Back at Sarah’s Will was finding the window wall trickier. He had to angle the ladder over the window and decided it would be safer to take the curtains down to prevent any paint dripping on them. After they were down he then struggled balancing the paint while he reached over the window becoming much more aware of the fact he needed to pee now. Once the wall was complete Will climbed down from the ladder and stepped back. The wall looked much fresher but it was ruined by how much it now highlighted the window surround which really needed painted too. Will made a sudden decision to gloss the window surround before moving on. The final wall was to be wallpapered so he took the roller and brush through to Sarah’s kitchen to clean. Wearing the overall was making him sweat so before he began washing up he filled a glass of cold water and drank it all.
Rinsing the roller, brush and tray took longer than Will hoped and he found himself moving from foot to foot as the running water increased his need to pee substantially. Glancing through to the other room he briefly thought about using Sarah’s bathroom but changed his mind when he saw the door blocked by the furniture. He glanced at the kitchen clock and wondered how Sarah was doing. It was almost 2 already and he had a window to gloss and a wall to paper all before 5. He’d promised Sarah he’d finish on time and besides today was Tuesday and he had to be home in time for his weekly online grocery delivery. Leaving the now clean tray on a tea towel on the counter with the roller and brush Will moved to the box and pulled out the gloss paint and a smaller brush, giving himself a brief squeeze in his crotch as he did so.
Family were never allowed to stay for meals at the home so Sarah was surprised when Patsy came over to get the tea trolley and, looking at the photos on Sarah’s knee, quietly asked if she wanted to stay and have lunch with her mum.
‘I know you shouldn’t but poor Irene is in bed unwell so the meal would only go to waste. It’s chicken pie, boiled new potatoes and vegetables today if you want some?’
Sarah nodded as she noticed her mum hadn’t even responded to Patsy’s arrival.
‘Thank you so much. That’s one of mum’s favourite meals you know. It would have been her wedding anniversary today too.’
‘It’s hard isn’t it. Your mum is so lovely though. Is that Alex? She talks about him daily you know.’
‘Yes. She never did get over his passing. I’m sure that’s what’s made her lose herself like this.’
Sarah went quiet before adding in a whisper,
‘I miss mum so much even though she’s still here.’
‘I know. Why don’t you see if she’ll walk with you into the dining room? Lunch is ready so just sit wherever you like.’
As Patsy left Sarah stood up and gently pulled her mum to standing too. She looked around for help but everyone was clearly already at lunch so Sarah linked her arm in her mum’s and walked her slowly towards the dining room.
‘Mum, it’s lunch time. Chicken pie today, your favourite!’
Walking slowly along the corridor Sarah passed an individual residents toilet and realised she could really do with using it herself. But her mum was too unsteady, too vulnerable, to be left unattended and besides the lunch smelled delicious since she hadn’t yet eaten a meal today.
Sarah sat opposite her mum crossing her legs at her ankle as she promised herself she’d use the loo before leaving. Thankfully her mum was still able to feed herself and Sarah loved seeing that she was very much enjoying her meal. There was more tea and water served again and Sarah opted for water the same as her mum, trying not to drink too much as she already had to pee but finding the meal saltier than she was used to and automatically countering that fact by drinking water.
By 2pm Sarah had guided her mum back to the sitting room again and Patsy had said she would take over as she walked with Sarah to the front door and signed her out. Despite her bladder being very full Sarah hadn’t had the courage to ask to use the toilets before leaving especially as Patsy seemed in a hurry not to leave Barbara unsupervised. It wasn’t until she got into her car than she cursed herself for not saying as she squeezed her thighs tightly together. |
Chapter 39:
Will woke at his usual time, his mind and body programmed after years of having to wake for work. His arm rested over Sarah’s waist as she snored lightly, still sleeping soundly. He longed to stroke her hair, touch her, kiss her even, but recalling the adventures they had shared through the night he chose instead to allow his princess the rest her body and mind both needed. Instead he quietly climbed out of bed, used the bathroom nearby, smiling as he stood on a damp towel and seeing two pairs of discarded knickers and his own wet boxers, then went downstairs naked hoping to get himself some much needed coffee, almost tripping over his discarded shoes at the bottom of the stairs in the process.
Will still wasn’t used to Sarah’s kitchen set up as he thought how he would love to reorganise where she kept things to make it, in his mind, more logical. He smiled seeing one lone box of caramel macchiato knowing Sarah must have clearly bought it just for him. How he loved that lady so much as he opted for a simple, but greatly needed, instant coffee. He got two mugs from the mug rack, opened the sugar jar and coffee jar and put a tea bag in a mug for Sarah before opening Sarah’s fridge for milk.
‘Oh. No milk. Think Will. What do you do now?’
It took Will a moment to think. He made sure he never ran out of milk, or food, or anything else for that matter. He never went to shops in person, doing everything online for so many reasons. The internet was what allowed him to cope in life but, now faced with wanting milk right away, he realised there might actually be times when online shopping wasn’t as convenient as he realised. Replaying the route to Sarah’s from his apartment in his mind he tried to picture if there were any shops nearby. Closing his eyes he visualised the full 7 minute route finally concluding that at the last roundabout he’d seen a sign for a Lidl. It looked like a small supermarket and he’d seen adverts for the store on billboards and TV but he’d definitely never been in one. But he needed coffee and that required milk, and more than that he couldn’t even find any bread and Sarah’s fridge only had remnants of some fresh orange juice, some lemonade and one egg. If he wanted coffee, or breakfast, he had little choice.
Heading upstairs as quietly as he could Will slipped on his slacks from the day before feeling them rough against his crotch without underwear. In the darkness of the room he felt for his t-shirt and pulled that on too, hoping it was the right way round. Coming back downstairs he looked for his jacket but couldn’t see it anywhere. He assumed he hadn’t brought one. Thankfully Sarah’s house keys were in the front door where she had unlocked it to let him in last night and his own car keys were in his trouser’s pocket. As quietly as possible Will sneaked out and headed the few minutes to Lidl, anxious about what it would be like but excited to experience a supermarket in person for the first time in as long as he could remember.
Turning into the car park Will was pleasantly surprised to see it appeared quiet. He parked easily and walked in to the foyer, immediately surprised at how open and peaceful the store appeared. The first thing he saw was a stand of fresh flowers and Will immediately stood examining and smelling some before choosing the freshest and biggest bunch for Sarah. Stepping inside the automatic door he lifted a basket, quite taken by its size and weight, placed the flowers in, and walking a little further, his stomach drew him to the delicious smell of freshly made bread.
Will stopped at the fresh bakery amazed at the array of products displayed in front of him. He looked at the basket in his hand and then back at the croissants, fresh bread and rolls and wondered how hygienic it would be to put some loose in the dirty basket. He looked around and saw brown bags and smiled. Picking some bags he chose a plain croissant, a maple and pecan plait, a pain aux raisin, and a blueberry muffin and placed the bags in the basket. He found milk easily and picked up some more essentials for Sarah. The basket was getting heavier and Will stared at another customer as they walked past wheeling the same basket. How has he not noticed it had wheels? He put the basket down and felt so proud of himself for finally braving a store in person. Looking round for the checkout he headed back towards the door and was relieved to see there wasn’t a queue. He loaded the contents on the belt and pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
‘That’s £11.43 sir’
Will pulled his bank card out from his wallet and began reading the long card number out. He hadn’t even got to the fifth number when the checkout assistant interrupted him.
‘Sir please just swipe your card over the reader.’
‘But what about the expiry date and the number on the back? Don’t you need all that?’
‘No sir. Just rest your card over the top. That’s all we need. Thank you. Would you like a receipt?’
Will held his card over the reader amazed when ‘card accepted’ displayed quickly.
‘Emmmm yes please. And may I have a bag please too?’
‘You get those under the counter there Sir.’
Will anxiously picked up a bag and started filling it with his shopping.
‘That’s 45p please sir.’
Will could feel himself getting dizzy and warm with anxiety. He hadn’t even thought the bag would cost as he handed the cashier a £5 note.
He grabbed his change and drove back to Sarah’s, needing that cup of coffee more than ever before. |
Chapter 48:
It wasn’t until Will put the pizzas in the oven and prepared the fresh salad that he realised he hadn’t been to the bathroom in hours. He subtly wiggled as he placed the chicken and mushrooms symmetrically on Sarah’s pizza and added pepperoni and red onion to his own. Turning his head to wink at Sarah he smiled as their eyes met.
‘So sorry! I forget about drinks. What do you fancy Sarah? I have tea, coffee, fresh orange, apple juice, water, or wine perhaps? And can I just say you look absolutely exquisite tonight Sarah. That suit jacket matches your eyes perfectly.’
‘As do you sir. You suit grey and pink much more than I ever thought you would. And may I add you smell wonderful too....if you don’t mind me saying so.’
Will smiled. This was the extend of his script that he’d been practicing, changing only what Sarah wore and now not sure what to say back, then realising it was because he had the cupboard open for glasses but still didn’t know what Sarah wanted to drink. Standing staring at the cupboard as if it would answer the question he’d asked Sarah, he froze, unable to process what to do since he had already asked Sarah a question and he still hadn’t received an answer.
For a split second Sarah had been distracted as her bladder sent a crude reminder that it did indeed require to be emptied. Crossing her legs and trying to remain unnoticed she hadn’t even seen that Will had paused waiting for her as she slipped one shoe off under the table and rubbed her leg with her foot to try and distract from her bladder. After an awkward pause she finally looked up again.
‘Oh sorry Will! Emmmm I don’t usually drink but since you have went to such an effort I will have a glass of wine please. Thank you.’
Finally Will could think and act as he chose two wine glasses, opened the bottle and poured out a generous glass for them both. Like Sarah he didn’t drink much alcohol either but did sometimes have a glass of wine or some beers at the weekends. He was glad to have ordered a bottle of red with his online delivery last week as he passed Sarah a glass and sat his own opposite her. Sitting down he took a sip as he gazed at the wonder that was his girlfriend. The shine from her hair, the way her cheeks rose when she smiled, the mesmerising colour of her eyes, all fascinated and drew him in like a fish was drawn to bait. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Sarah and even the jolt from his bladder wouldn’t dare to draw him away from his favourite woman right now. He reached out for Sarah’s hand and placing it on the table, he slowly and tenderly stroked the back of each finger in turn as they sat in silence.
It was Sarah who spoke first, as was often the case.
‘So how was your work out? Did you achieve what you had planned?’
‘Oh it was great. Really great. I always feel...uplifted? Motivated? Refreshed? Excited? I’m not sure which one is best but I always feel much better after a good work out. I set myself personal targets and I don’t stop until I reach them. Having the right music helps so much too. Though I don’t sing along if you are wondering. I can’t sing and cycle or sing and run at the same time. They just don’t really go together for me if you know what I mean?’
‘I know what you mean. Single focussed has its advantages though.’
‘Yes. I guess I do that a lot with stuff but it’s how I work best. I don’t do multitasking. It’s stressful trying to focus on more than one thing I find. So how was your afternoon? Did you get what you wanted done for work?’
‘I had a lovely afternoon thanks Will. I caught up with everything I needed to and even got to read some really interesting articles. I need to keep researching in my job. People think I just sit all day and talk but it’s nothing like that at all. There’s so much more to therapy than just sitting drinking tea and chatting. And with it being my own business there’s a lot of administrative stuff too. But you can’t beat the job satisfaction of helping people. There isn’t a price you can put on something like that.’
Will felt lost in the beauty of Sarah as he recalled so many of their adventures together and the day he first heard her say his name. Her voice still drew him in and encapsulated him, even more so the closer they were to each other. As he continued stroking the back of Sarah’s hand with his own he whispered softly across the table.
‘You help me so much my darling. In more ways than I even knew I needed help.’
‘And you help me too Will. By the way you haven’t forgotten the pizzas have you?’
‘Oh God! Ahhh I told you I can’t multitask didn’t I?’
Sarah giggled. She want going to mention that she was multitasking that very second herself as she crossed one leg over the other in the opposite direction to help hold her bladder until her meal was finished. Sipping at her wine she knew that once dinner was over she’d most definitely need to slip to Will’s bathroom. Even she could only multitask so much, especially when one of those tasks was preventing herself from having an accident. |
Chapter 58:
Sarah was first through the door of the little shop, glancing in every direction as she made her way to the pay point. Talking fast, and without pausing for even a breath, she blurted out quickly everything that needed said.
‘Excuse me. Do you sell petrol cans at all? I have run out of petrol but I don’t have a petrol can. And do you have a bathroom I could use please? I had to wait for my boyfriend to come and get me and I really need to go!’
Will came in right behind Sarah his eyes transfixed on her body movements and his ears tuned to every word she said. She was in every way sex personified at this exact moment and while he never wanted his treasured lady to be humiliated or embarrassed he couldn’t help but be extremely turned on by her predicament. Feeling his thick and hard erection against his joggers he slid a hand into his pocket to press his penis down out of sight. He needed to pee a lot too but his mind was overridden strongly by sexual desire and he knew that even without his fear of peeing anywhere but home he still wouldn’t be able to relax and urinate with such a hard erection. He forced himself to look around the tiny shop in order to prevent his body and sexual urges overpowering his mind as he spotted one small petrol can on a bottom shelf.
Bending to pick up the plastic canister his ears pricked at hearing the staff member’s reply to Sarah.
‘We don’t stock many petrol cans I am afraid but if we have any left they will be down on the bottom shelf over there. And I am afraid the only bathroom we have is for staff only. I do apologise.’
Will felt he needed to act quickly, partly because he knew Sarah was absolutely bursting for the toilet but also because knowing she still had to wait made his penis shake with lust. If his body was allowed to take control Sarah would be naked and penetrated right where she was. Will squeezed his penis hard through his pocket as he took the plastic petrol holder to the till and paid. He pulled his other hand out his pocket and looked at the small amount of cash he had and handed the cashier the only note he had on him. Doing a quick count of the change now in his hand he hoped he had enough to pay for the fuel too. His thought process was interrupted by Sarah who pulled on his arm almost in tears.
‘Will, we need to hurry. Come on!’
Sarah stood there in shock, unable to stand still and seriously worried if she would make it back to Will’s with having to buy fuel and get it in her car first. Surely Will would do everything he could to support and help her but as she saw him walking towards her with the petrol can she wanted to scream as he stared down at his hand as if he had all day! She pulled at his arm in urgency begging him to get out of the garage immediately.
Pulling Will back outside, frustration got the better of Sarah as she marched on the spot franticly as Will pulled the petrol pump away from the pump and put it into the small plastic can.
‘Can you not do that any quicker Will? I REALLY need to get back to yours NOW!’
With both hands needed to fill the can, one holding the pump and the other keeping the can from overflowing, Will could no longer prevent his penis from throbbing nor could he hide the fact the top of his joggers were now stretched outwards very obviously. As he watched and felt the fluid pumping through the pump and pouring into the plastic canister he simultaneously felt his own body doing similar as his rock hard penis longed for Sarah with everything in it. Just as the can filled to the top and Will hung up the pump and screwed on the lid of the plastic can his eyes caught the bottom half of Sarah as she rubbed her thigh with a clenched fist and bend forwards moaning. This was all Will could take as precum leaked out uncontrollably causing a damp sticky patch on his workout joggers.
Clicking to unlock his car, and leaving the can on the ground by his car, Will prayed that the garage worker wouldn’t see the damp area of his trousers as he once again slid a hand inside his pocket and forced his erection down. Rushing inside, not wishing to leave Sarah any longer than necessary, he pulled his other hand out of his pocket and counted out the money for fuel, left it sitting on the counter and rushed back out.
Sarah was now inside his car again so he quickly grabbed the petrol can, opened his boot and put it in and then climbed into the driver’s seat, glancing over to Sarah as he did so. Sarah sat hunched forwards, both arms wrapped around her stomach as she moaned quietly. Will’s penis vibrated in his underwear as he knew he would replay this scene many times in his mind, but conscious of not wanting to distress Sarah. He wouldn’t object if she had an accident in his car but he knew enough about Sarah that she would. She was a professional woman in her suit, tights and court shoes and whatever meeting she had been to was obviously very important to her.
However much he wanted her he knew what she wanted, more than anything in the world right now, was to get to use a toilet. He had the power to make that happen and his decisions right now would be the difference between her making it on time or not. |
Chapter 68:
Will dished up dinner and filled two glasses with iced water. He was pleased to see Sarah eat well though she ate in silence. He didn’t know what to say himself so he enjoyed his own meal and water then cleaned the dishes before loading the dishwasher. It still looked odd to have two plates instead of one but it did make the tray more symmetrical which pleased him immensely. Conscious of time he washed his hands before looking round for Sarah.
‘Any idea where my suit jacket is from earlier Will? I can’t find it.’
Will walked over to the armchair by the window and handed Sarah her thin suit jacket which was now dry from its earlier adventure in the rain. With only her dress on underneath Will worried about her feeling cold. He walked to his bedroom, slid open his wardrobe and stood staring in looking for something. Pulling out a grey fleece hoody he handed it to Sarah who was stood in the hallway waiting.
‘To keep you a bit warmer.’
‘Thanks’
Sarah slipped her arms in the fleece, immediately feeling it’s warmth and comfort as they headed out Will’s apartment and into the cold evening drizzle to drive to the hospital. Will still felt guilty wearing his coat when Sarah didn’t have one so he turned the car heating on as he typed in the hospital postcode. He looked at Sarah as he pulled out the car park and smiled.
‘She’ll be ok.’
‘I hope so.’
Will concentrated intently on following the commands of his all too familiar sat nav as adrenaline helped override his ever present anxiety. Twenty minutes passed in a haze as he finally and confidently pulled into car park 1 as if he came every day. Turning his engine off he heard the most beautiful and lovely voice in the whole world.
‘Thank you Will. I am proud of you!’
Suddenly unsure if Sarah wanted him to wait in the car or come in he undid his seatbelt but remained sitting.
‘Would you come in with me Will? Please.’
That was all Will needed as he got out, locked the car and took Sarah’s hand. The hospital was exactly like he had seen earlier on his laptop as he visualised the map and headed for the main entrance then the lift to floor 2. Arriving outside the ward at 7:15 Will pushed open the double doors not realising they were locked. Sarah looked around then pressed the buzzer entry. Eventually a voice spoke.
‘Who are you here to visit please?’
Sarah spoke clearly into the speaker.
‘Barbara Henderson, thanks’
The door buzzed open and Sarah and Will walked through.
Chapter 68 (again as posted wrong)
Will dished up dinner and filled two glasses with iced water. He was pleased to see Sarah eat well though she ate in silence. He didn’t know what to say himself so he enjoyed his own meal and water then cleaned the dishes before loading the dishwasher. It still looked odd to have two plates instead of one but it did make the tray more symmetrical which pleased him immensely. Conscious of time he washed his hands before looking round for Sarah.
‘Any idea where my suit jacket is from earlier Will? I can’t find it.’
Will walked over to the armchair by the window and handed Sarah her thin suit jacket which was now dry from its earlier adventure in the rain. With only her dress on underneath Will worried about her feeling cold. He walked to his bedroom, slid open his wardrobe and stood staring in looking for something. Pulling out a grey fleece hoody he handed it to Sarah who was stood in the hallway waiting.
‘To keep you a bit warmer.’
‘Thanks’
Sarah slipped her arms in the fleece, immediately feeling it’s warmth and comfort as they headed out Will’s apartment and into the cold evening drizzle to drive to the hospital. Will still felt guilty wearing his coat when Sarah didn’t have one so he turned the car heating on as he typed in the hospital postcode. He looked at Sarah as he pulled out the car park and smiled.
‘She’ll be ok.’
‘I hope so.’
Will concentrated intently on following the commands of his all too familiar sat nav as adrenaline helped override his ever present anxiety. Twenty minutes passed in a haze as he finally and confidently pulled into car park 1 as if he came every day. Turning his engine off he heard the most beautiful and lovely voice in the whole world.
‘Thank you Will. I am proud of you!’
Suddenly unsure if Sarah wanted him to wait in the car or come in he undid his seatbelt but remained sitting.
‘Would you come in with me Will? Please.’
That was all Will needed as he got out, locked the car and took Sarah’s hand. The hospital was exactly like he had seen earlier on his laptop as he visualised the map and headed for the main entrance then the lift to floor 2. Arriving outside the ward at 7:15 Will pushed open the double doors not realising they were locked. Sarah looked around then pressed the buzzer entry. Eventually a voice spoke.
‘Who are you here to visit please?’
Sarah spoke clearly into the speaker.
‘Barbara Henderson, thanks’
The door buzzed open and Sarah and Will walked through. |
And there’s more!
here’s another entry:
Dear diary,
I need to tell you this because no-one else will believe me!
You remember Duncan McBride, the national director? Well we’ve had a few Skype calls since that really weird first one and I officially started my new role last week.
So far so good.
But there’s just one aspect that is making me a little uncomfortable. It’s rather related to that ‘thing’ last month, you know the incident when we had our first ever Skype and I ended up having that weird orgasm? God I didn’t think I had ever had to per so bad...well until last night again!
It’s that damn time difference stuff! You see Duncan is based in California and I’m Scotland. He’s been very accommodating when it’s just us but then I had to be in my first international meeting. He would have flown me over but with the stupid pandemic stuff it had to be done on Microsoft teams. In one sense I was a bit less nervous in my own house but on the other hand...well it’s just not the same is it?
So this board meeting was about the whole company investing in my project and I had to do this full half hour report then answer questions. Thankfully I’m more an evening person than a morning person but even I groaned when the email said it was 4pm their time meaning midnight for me!
I decided the best thing would be to try and get some sleep early on so I had a bigger meal early evening then went for a lie down. I must have been tired as I fell asleep easily after dinner. I woke tingling with nerves and excitement and had a coffee to calm me down then a bottle of water because my throat kept going dry. I don’t know why but I never seemed to get a moment to use the toilet but surely it takes a while for your bladder to fill? Well let me tell you...that’s a lie!
So Duncan never told me it would be a bloody 2 hour meeting did he!! 2 hours! I was point 6 on the agenda and there was a very formal feel even with it being by video. So glad I had my formal skirt suit on even at midnight.
Well you guessed. Less than ten minutes in and I could feel I needed the toilet. By an hour in it was really quite distracting. But I was in control and despite being bursting and having to cross my legs tightly I managed to get through my presentation. Maybe it was the stress of it all but by the time it was over I really really wanted to sign off and pee so fucking badly! I didn’t want to make it obvious and thankfully the camera only shows my face because my legs were frantic in my nylon tights and pencil skirt. I was swinging my legs back and forth, running my hands up and down my thighs and squeezing like nothing else.
The questions would have been easier to answer had my urethra not been so dying to release! I tried so hard to answer but I think my urgent situation must have been obvious because Duncan stepped in to my deference a few times, even asking if I was ok! I couldn’t exactly tell a board meeting of influential directors that I was desperate for the loo could I? Thank God for Duncan’s support!
The rest of the meeting is a bit of a blur as I ended up pulling my skirt up and sitting on my clenched fist for the last 10 minutes trying not to have an accident. Finally the meeting finished and one by one everyone left the call...all except Duncan!
So it was just Duncan and myself and he was saying how well I did and I was a bit embarrassed but so unbelievably bursting for the toilet! I was bouncing on my seat and squirming and again Duncan asked if anything was wrong. How embarrassing! I didn’t want to say but it sort of came out. I blurted out almost in tears that I was fine just that I really had to go. That’s when it got rather...intimate? His voice was so caring, so sexy, and he sort of whispered that I looked so sexy and he was so proud of me and then he said he didn’t want to keep me back but he just wanted to thank me for my time and all my work so far.
I had to stand up! I had to! I stood back so I could still see him but I was dancing about like mad right in front of my boss and it was soooo embarrassing! I even moaned.
That’s when he asked outright! He asked if I had been holding my bladder right through the meeting! What could I say? He wasn’t being creepy or anything. He was actually really sweet and so understanding. All I could do is nod. I was sweating and bent forward with a hand wedged in my crotch.
That’s when he apologised for the length of the meeting and the late hour for me and...well unfortunately I never heard what else he said because all I could hear was my heart beating so loud and the noise of my bladder bursting and my pee hissing!
The last thing I remember is him saying ‘I had better let you go. I’ll email you the minutes and speak to you soon. You did amazing. I’m very proud of you and delighted to have you on board. Thanks again and goodnight.’
Then his screen went black and I signed out and cleaned myself up. I’ve never been so desperate but don’t tell anyone but I’ve never ever felt so sexy either! I, emmm, well I enjoyed myself before I showered and changed into my pj’s and them went to bed.
I know you might not believe me but I’m loving this new job in more ways than I ever expected. |
I've noticed that great hyper-urinating authors such as Splashfics have been missing in action for much too long. To compose a well-written story about attractive women with other-worldly abilities to pee endless gallons for hours on end is difficult-- and doesn't necessarily appeal to a wide range of readers-- but there are the writers at this website who excel at such tales. Unfortunately a dullard such as I am not one of them.
For a possible storyline allow me to borrow an idea from ashnacamon: Picture a tall, sleek, beautiful blonde in the midst of rapid pubescent development, those wonder years which anatomic changes to her body are becoming difficult not to notice. However for Samantha, some aspects of adolescence have come with some embarrassing unintended consequences as a result of her rapidly developing bladder.
She had always known that she was destined to be genetically blessed, if that was an apt description. As a 16-year-old girl she had born witness to her parent's various interludes in the bathroom. Her father was a rugged construction supervisor who would come home to their rural home at the end of a long day, change out of his outfit and immediately go into the master bathroom to relieve himself. Her mother, more often than not, would go in with him so the two could catch-up on events of that day. It wasn't a large home, more like a farmhouse, and from her bedroom she could plainly hear him pour-out a strong stream into the toilet even as her parents engaged in conversation. He would pee and pee and pee, until gradually their conversation would die down even as his peeing didn't. Frequently out of boredom her mother would come over to her bedroom to invite her out to the living room while she prepared dinner. "Hi honey, I'm making us a seafood casserole dish tonight. I haven''t started it yet, but that's a moot point since your father is busy peeing a pond. If I work slowly in the kitchen just perhaps he'll be finished by then." Invariably, Samantha would feel a rush of emotions she couldn't identify but tried to conceal. On more than one occasion, she and her mother would be at the table eating, the television set to the nightly news, when finally the sound of urination would draw to a conclusion in the bathroom and her father would saunter out to the dining room for his meal. Involuntarily Samantha would glance over at a grandfather's clock across the room that was a family heirloom; thirty-five, forty-five or more minutes passage of time wasn't unusual. Her face would flush and she would pray that her parents wouldn't notice.
if it were but only a single parent who was endowed with such highly-abnormal peeing abilities than Samantha could find some way to cope with it. Instead, nature dished-out a devilish serendipity effect when it came to her mother Sarah. Each day after her father left for work, Samantha would help her mother clean and perform some chores around their rural Ohio home. Sam never paid much attention to her mother's habits, but beginning around age 13 she took noticed that she peed at extremely infrequent intervals. There were times over a weekend she would never venture near a bathroom, however what would follow on Monday would make her father's peeing performances pale by comparison. They could have also be the basis for an excellent university psychology thesis on the affects of greatly protracted urination on the sexuality of a female offspring.
With their farm home being situated in rural Ohio, Samantha was home schooled by her highly-educated mother. Additionally her mother would take the opportunity to perform two important functions simultaneously on those academic Mondays. Sometime in the late morning when Sarah's vast internal reservoir known as a bladder called attention to its need to be voided, she would chirp "Sam why don't you take your books to the desk in The Office?" Samantha would obediently gather her English, U.S. and European history plus math books and walk to a small desk in a room her parents called The Office. That was something of an overstatement; it was actually a guest bedroom with an attached bathroom. Sarah, a Phi Beta Kappa with an undergrad degree in education from The Ohio State University, would nonchalantly sift through her lesson plans for the day before assigning her daughter the reading material. Samantha would then take her seat at the desk while Sarah would quickly disrobe from the waist down and step into the nearby bathroom, leaving the door wide open. As her daughter valiantly tried to absorb the scholastic material on-hand, her mother would initiate a stream directly into the deep water of the toilet bowl. It wouldn't start-out that strongly, rather like someone pouring from a small watering vessel into some flower planter near a window. But after a minute or two the sound would build, the flow of urine increase as Sarah's urethra opened-up. Soon Samantha would have to force herself to concentrate on the reading material as the entire room became enveloped with sound. This was but a beginning prelude to what was to come. As she flipped the pages of her text, the hands of an old antique clock on the wall would swing around eight-nine-ten times and the cacophony invariably would increase by several orders of magnitude. Now twelve minutes into a urination, her mother's pee-hole would further open to allow a three-inch wide tsunami to cascade into the water. Sarah had begun her Monday peeing session. By any measure Samantha's academic studies were difficult, but they were made infinitely more so by her mother who peed at a hundred decibels from a toilet a scant few yards away though a wide open door. Moreover, what was mesmerizing was the ease and ferocity of her flow as it continued to gush and gush without end. My lord, she thought, no wonder her mother didn't give her father's peeing accomplishments a second notice.
"Hello out there. How are you coming along on Chapter Two? If you're finished come over here and I'll assign you a new reading section to digest and synthesize." Using all her self-control and will power, Samantha would rise from her chair and gingerly walk over to the entrance of the bathroom. On the toilet, her mother would be unselfconsciously shooting a waterfall of urine, only a portion of which was being captured by the toilet. The balance was either splashing out of the toilet water or being ejected over the front lip of the toilet such was the profusion and diameter of her urine spray. Below the cascade accumulated on the tile floor and flowed over to a drain her father had wisely built for his wife. There was a reason for Sarah's disrobing and taking her shoe's off prior to peeing. "Done with Chapter Two? In that case read the following three chapters on ancient European oceanic exploration and then we can start-in with that beginning algebra. Any questions, honey?" The torrential sounds of urine leaving her mother's impossibly gigantic bladder were such that it make conversation difficult. Moreover, Samantha quickly determined the quantity of reading her mother had just assigned to her; even rapidly reading it would take a good potion left of that morning. To think her mother was telling her to come back to the bathroom for a further study assignment??!! Her legs felt wobbly as she tried to compose herself. "Mother...mother...this is an awful lot of text to read. It's going to take me forever to finish digesting it all. Don't you think this is more than sufficient on a Monday?" Samantha had to rise her voice slightly to be heard over the torrid sounds rebounding off the walls of the bathroom. Internally her heart was pounding; she hoped her mother wouldn't connect the significance of her statement on time. She needn't have worried. Sarah looked into her daughter's azure blue eyes and smiled.
"Trying to cut short your Monday morning studies I see. Well you're just out of luck, daughter. My bladder feels like I could fill a good sized lake today. It's one of those Mondays when I'm going to to be peeing for hours and hours, and that's no exaggeration. (Tee-hee) When you're a little older I'll tell you all about when I was dating your father. We were in college and he took me over to a local motel one weekend. Sometime in the middle of the night I felt an urge to go and...well...I went into the bathroom. The problem was I just couldn't stop peeing, honestly! Oh my goodness, what am I saying to one so young?"
Samantha's face was red as a beet yet enthralled at the revelation and wanting to hear more. "No, it's O.K. mother. I'm 16-years-old. Really. I want you to continue." Sarah took a deep breath, and for an added dimension of urological emphasis to her story, pushed a little harder sending a massive gush of urine against the rear wall of the bathroom. "Alright in that case I'll continue with my story. Your father was asleep in the motel bedroom, yet I was trapped on the toilet and just going and going. The longer I peed the more I had to go! As the night wore on, frantic thoughts raced through my mind as countless gallons flowed through me. I thought surely your father would burst through the bathroom door at any moment. And as even more time passed I rationalized that perhaps he was actually used to hearing phenomenal, endless pees from women? I had never peed in his presence prior to this, but I had witnessed him relieve himself longer than any man I had ever seen in my life. Sam, you've seen how he can pee for nearly an hour sometimes. That being said, he's a man and men...well they aren't really built for extremely long-long peeing." Samantha suddenly placed her hand over her mouth and giggled. "Mother be nice!" "O.K. in that case, to make this very long peeing story a little shorter, to my surprise and horror I spotted the first rays of sunlight filter through the top bathroom window. Fortunately by then I had gotten to the prolonged start-and-stop stage of my pee. So I clamped down hard and eased open the bathroom door. Your father, your wonderfully polite, impeccably-mannered father, was writhing on the bed in erotic passion moaning 'I can't believe it! No woman on earth can pee like that!' We were engaged that very weekend." Samantha, dumfounded beyond words at the startling, deeply personal family revelation she had just born witness, became slack-jawed.
"It...it just makes everything fall into perfect place, mother. I've always wondered about...some things." Sarah sighed. "I know my darling. I thought I'd bring this most delicate of subjects up before you learned about them in public or when you went off to college. Not all men are as discreet as your father." Samantha looked puzzled and then startled at the comment her mother had just made. "Sam, there are certain things a mother knows about her child. You were always a large wetter as an infant, an extremely long pee 'er as a young girl, and now as a mid-teen with a bladder that's just growing exponentially by the day, it's not something you can hide any longer." Samantha felt like fleeing the bathroom but her sexually wobbly legs couldn't move. "Honey, your father and I have held long discussions about this moment. We've known for a long time how you sneak out of the house before dawn and walk behind the barn to pee. You sit on a cushion atop a box and just pee and pee and pee. It's not something to be ashamed of darling. I know for a fact your urinations are taking well over two-hours and growing much longer. My goodness I've gone out there and seen how the stream has collected along the gutter all the way to the street drain at the front of the house. That's tens of gallons."
Overwhelmed, Samantha found her strength and tried to dash out of the bathroom. "No my dear! By proud of that fact, embrace it! In the future, stride into a restroom in college knowing full-well that you'll be out-peeing dozens of women back-to-back. You will earn a campus-wide reputation as I had; men will seek you out and women listening to you will pass-out from the shock. Embrace it!" As Samantha turned to leave, she smiled, nodded and simply tried to let that morning's events sink in. "I will mother." "I know you will. In the meantime why don't you forget this morning's studies, go out and have some fun riding one of our horses. I still think I have several hours worth of peeing left to do." "That, my dear mother, is something I have no-doubt."
Edited July 5, 2022 by LngPeefan
(see edit history) |
Raphtalia's character design for those who haven't seen the anime !!
Due to a lot of requests for a continuation, I've decided to rewrite and finish a fic I posted about a year ago! It'll have a total of 3 parts, which will be posted soon! Thank you all much for the support, and I hope that you enjoy the first part!!
Raphtalia's Road Trip (Part 1/3)
To say that Raphtalia loved Naofumi would be an understatement. She had never bonded with someone so sincerely after losing her family and being forced into serItvitude. Her childhood was fuzzy and distant, hard to remember. There were so many empty days, as she sat lifelessly behind bars. Seeing Naofumi look at her with that piercing gaze had been the first time she had felt anything in so long. She felt so nervous, afraid, as his eyes bore into hers. She hadn’t expected someone like him to have chosen her. She knew she was weak, and frail. She knew that there were better options than a lowly demihuman. So why? This question filled her thoughts day after day.
Naofumi was an unexpectedly kind master. Although he would often push her to her limits, she knew it was because he wanted her to become stronger. For his sake, and for her own. It was hard not to develop a friendship, and eventually stronger emotions for the kind man that had saved her that day. As her body grew and she developed into a fierce warrior, her love for her master only grew as well. All she wanted was to be taken seriously by him, for him to see her as more than his sword. She wanted him to appreciate her as a woman, to stop looking at her like she was a child.
The worst part of it was that Naofumi always kept track of her bathroom habits. She still remembered it vividly, the first night he had taken her home. She fell asleep, plagued by nightmares, and woke up with soaked sheets. Naofumi was the one who had to comfort her, holding her small body close as she cried. He cleaned up her mess and helped her change her clothes, as well. Ever since then, Naofumi had always made sure to check that she answered nature's call before bed, or if they were traveling. It was incredibly embarrassing, how was she supposed to prove that she was mature and grown up if Naofumi was always fixated on her bathroom habits. It made her feel childish, and so Raphtalia made a promise to herself. She would not relieve herself in front of Naofumi, and prove to him that she wasn’t the little girl that had wet the bed anymore. Mature ladies did not need bathroom breaks, and Raphtalia wanted to prove to Naofumi that she was a mature woman, a woman fit to stand by his side.
With those thoughts in mind, Raphtalia stood up and stretched. It seemed like every morning, her thoughts revolved around her beloved master. She yawned quietly, her soft pinkish eyes bleary from the morning light, and her head fuzzy. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, willing herself to wake up. She had a long day ahead of her.
Raphtalia’s train of thought was interrupted when she felt something nudge her milky thigh. Right, the other fundamental flaw in her attempt to get Naofumi to be interested in her romantically. Her “little-sister,” a filolial with the creative name Filo. The little bird girl was a constant thorn in her side, interrupting her and butting in whenever Raphtalia tried to get closer to Naofumi.
“Good morning, Nee-chan.” Filo murmured sleepily, fumbling around in bed for a moment before flopping out ungracefully and landing on her feet. Raphtalia envied her carefree nature, sliding out of bed at a much slower pace, and stretching again when she had stood up. Her change in positions made her aware of an issue, or rather, a certain pressure in her abdomen. Best to take care of that now.
“I’m going to wake master up!” Filo practically shouted, interrupting Raphtalia’s train of thought. She would’ve protested and demanded that she wake Naofumi instead, but her mind was focused on other matters. The shout had startled her quite a bit, causing a momentary lapse in control. Her bladder panged desperately, and she pressed her soft thighs together, squirming slightly.
Filo had already run off, so now was her chance to run to the bathroom. She didn’t waste the opportunity, taking careful steps towards the bathroom. The second she closed the door, she shoved a hand in-between her legs, and squirming around frantically. Her fluffy tail swished back and forth, and she closed her eyes, focusing on keeping everything in. The wave passed, and she didn’t waste the little bit of relief, rushing to the toilet and pulling her panties down. Since she was wearing a nightgown, she didn’t have to worry about removing any other layers.
Raphtalia sighed in relief as she let out a steady stream, her entire body relaxing against the toilet. Her tail started wagging slowly, an embarrassing habit that she hadn’t been able to drop.
She finished up quickly, wiping herself dry and pulling her panties back up. She washed her hands and looked at her reflection in the mirror, smiling at herself. No leaks, she could tell this was going to be a good day!
Edited September 4, 2020 by nilla
(see edit history) |
This is the requested sequel, excited to write this!
Once again we are at an isolated park which in this world is widely known for the amount of pee fanatics it gets. My friend Rainy, who so happens to be one of those people, heads over there for a round of pee fun, wearing an adorable dog tail and cute dog ears.
Today I’m in a different mood than last time and am feeling in the mood to play some hockey instead of ultimate frisbee, with a few friends I know who love to play.
Pretty quickly I was able to pick up Rainy was there, and as you’d expect, at a park that’s known for pee, she’s desperate to find a spot to pee. Once again we have ourselves a very close match.
We are acting as though it is game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final. And the winner gets a plastic replica of the cup. The game is tied, 4-4. We head into overtime.
Meanwhile, Rainy has picked up that I am here. So she powers through the desperate feeling and she decides to come watch me, cheering me on while hiding she’s desperate to pee. And not long after she arrived, does the game come to an end, by me.
I get a saucer pass from one of my friends and all I have to do is a simple forehand backhand move and tuck it five hole past the goalie for the OT, series, and Stanley Cup clinching goal. Rainy is going crazy, ecstatic for me. I get my turn to raise the Cup, and skate over to her, smiling, and blow her a kiss.
After the celebrations, I get my bags and head by Rainy. She sprints when she sees me and gives me a huge hug, even if she has to go. “I’m so proud of you Tempest!” She said happily. Tempest was a special nickname she gave me. “How about as a little reward for your great game we stay here a bit and have some fun?”
I smiled widely, also picking up on the fact she may have been a little desperate. What could be better? A game winner and satisfying one of my fantasies? It’s pure gold. I say goodbye to my teammates, I grabbed my bags and Rainy and I just started walking around the park. She’s looking much more desperate now. If I had to guess, she was easily at an 7 to 8 in regards to how bad she needed to pee.
I walked around with her and suddenly I started to wince. My bladder was quickly filling to max capacity. I remembered that I had 5 waters throughout the game and 2 small Gatorades and realized that could rapidly fill my bladder. Now both of us are getting desperate, and I’m trying so hard not to wet myself around her. While I do that, she’s on the verge of completely breaking. “Hey, do you want to go somewhere and let all the out?” I ask her, even though I know it’s obvious that she is gonna lose it. “Yes, I’m about to burst!” She says. And then it happens. I look closely and I see drips coming down her legs and shorts. She’s clearly leaking and quite possibly about to wet herself.
At that point, I grab her hand and SPRINT to find somewhere perfect to finally let it go. That’s when out of the corner of my eye, I spot the perfect location.
As you expect in a park known for pee, every body of water has a pee themed name, so we looked for one of those, which is an ideal spot to let out her pee, right into that nice water. I tell her.
“Can you hold it for a little bit longer? I’m taking you to the nearest pee body of water!” “I can’t hold it anymore, if it’s nearby, make it fast!” She says, as more pee drips down her leg. I grab her by one hand and run as fast as I can.
But, unfortunately, there’s no way she’s gonna make it in time. She stands still where she is, face beat red, and you clearly see a wet spot growing, and a rapid stream follows through her shorts and onto the grass. She’s fully peeing herself. I decided to do so as well even though I don’t usually do, and joined her. I wet my shorts, joining her stream on the grass.
She smiles cutely and looks at me, not feeling as embarrassed because we both did this together. “Aww look at that. We both peed ourselves.” I said, smiling. “W-we sure did.” She says shyly.
“Say, Tempest, why don’t we do something together now that we’re all wet. I playfully tackle her and start to kiss her, smiling while we do it. I then tell her to get on top of me, and she knows exactly what’s gonna happen. “Y-you’re sure about this? She says very shyly. “Oh you know it. Let’s have a pee good time shall we?”
I laugh at my corny joke and slowly slide Rainy down so her pussy is close to my rock hard dick. She lifts her pussy up and starts to ride my dick. I moan and smile as she bounces up and down over and over again. The amount of force shes using is not very strong at first but picks up dramatically, and I’m enjoying every second of this. I kiss her as she rides me and she moans with pleasure.
Finally, we both reach our climax point and before I can, Rainy starts leaking cum onto my dick, and even spurts a couple extra blasts of pee to boot. I smile and within a few moments I shoot a huge load of cum into her pussy.
Once it’s all over, we collapse smiling. Holding hands we look at each other. “That was amazing. Couldn’t have asked for a better time.” Rainy says. “Couldn’t agree more.” I said smiling. “I love you Rainy.” I say and kiss her. “I love you too Tempest. “She says kissing me.
We both stand up shortly after, gather our things, and leave the park. This day will definitely go down in the books as one of the most intense, thrilling and downright awesome experiences, and one I will not soon forget. |
Wow, it's been a long time. In my defense, though, I've recently had some big events happen in my life, which kind of put writing on hold.
Without further ado, though, here you are.
(And if this is your first exposure to the Angelica and Lily saga, you can begin here: https://www.omorashi.org/topic/54188-angelica-and-lily/)
Mr. and Mrs. Timothy E. Carpenter
request the pleasure of your company
at the marriage of their daughter
Angelica Renee
to
Brian John Parrish
Saturday, the sixth of April
two thousand nineteen
at one in the afternoon
Reception to follow
The text read in florid calligraphic strokes, accented by soft pastel hues. The invitation’s design couldn’t have been more appropriate for the day in question, which, though colder than expected, and despite a worrisome overcast first few hours, was turning out to be a picturesque spring day. Perfect for a wedding.
Angelica waited, her every nerve tingly, as the music from the soundtrack of Emma drifted serenely into the antechamber of the Enchanted Oaks Lodge, where for the past hour or so, all the women in her family and bridal party had been scurrying about like feverish hens, helping each other with hair and makeup, pinning outfits and accessories in all the right places, and frantically engaging in a barrage of text conversations, ensuring that absolutely everything was as it should be. All of the scrambling had led up to this point, and now everything was still. The processional had begun, and she stood in her place at the back of the line. Soon each of her bridesmaids would be walking down the aisle, and then—then, after one and half years of planning, talking, growing, and waiting—it would be her turn.
She took a deep breath to try to calm her beating heart as two of her cousins pulled the doors open just enough to let Tina through, the first to march toward where the men were waiting under the pavilion. Today she and Brian were really doing it. They would be exchanging their vows and entering into a sacred covenant with each other, to forsake all other potential love interests and instead commit to one another, for better or worse. Till death do us part. She inhaled deeply again and fanned her face, trying not to cry before she even made it to the aisle. Next to her, her dad noticed her sudden surge of emotion and put his arm around her in a quick squeeze. “You all right there, kiddo?” His face was jocular, but Angelica could see the wet glimmer in his eyes.
In response, she laughed and nodded, then carefully wiped her eyes, making sure not to smudge her eyeliner or disturb her meticulously styled brown hair. In front of her, right on cue with the music, their wedding planner gave a nod to the cousins, who in turn opened the door again for Katelynn to begin her trek down to the front. Angelica took the opportunity to quickly review her appearance, for the thousandth time that day. Hair, check. Makeup, check. Bouquet, check. Dress, check. Everything was in place, just as it had been the last hundred times she’d gone over it, but it was always good to make sure. This was her wedding day, after all. She wanted to make sure it was perfect. Earlier in the day, when rain clouds had been threatening to darken the sky, her mother had tried to cheer her up by quoting a proverb she had heard before: “A wet bride is a lucky bride.” It didn’t really make her feel any more at ease, not until the sun came out again. But now, as she stood here, ready to commit the rest of her life to the love of her life, she knew that she was already lucky. Brian was an amazing man, plain and simple. She recalled her nascent attraction to him when they were both much younger and marveled in deep gratitude at how very blessed she was to have fallen for such an incredible person. Of course, they had also both grown so much as well since then. She let out her breath and pushed up on her toes, her feet growing sore from standing still in high heels. Next in line in front of her, Jackie pumped her fist in the air and uttered a pert “Let’s do this, girl!” before resuming a dignified stance in time to step out as the doors opened.
Looking back over the last year and a half of their engagement, it hadn’t all been a bed of roses. It had become fairly apparent to the two of them within the first couple of months that they had rushed into engagement somewhat prematurely, leaving them faced with the awkwardness of playing “catch-up” on their relationship while still fielding the legion of responsibilities, choices, and inquiries about their future which deluged them on a daily basis. Close to seven months in, they had even very seriously considered calling things off, leading to a period of about a month of sleepless nights for Angelica as she had to pretend everything was going well, when in reality her entire future was wracked with uncertainty. What ended up saving their relationship was the mutual decision to put their wedding on the back burner for a time and instead simply focus on each other. The date was pushed back and schedules had to be redrawn, but in the end, it was the best decision they could have made. Angelica was also inexpressibly thankful for the support of her parents through it all, especially her mom. Even during the darkest moments, when she couldn’t see how things would work out, her mom never gave up hope. On one particularly despondent night, when Angelica had spent over half an hour bawling to her mother over the phone, her mom told her, “I know he loves you, Ange. And I know you love him. If you both hold onto that, and be patient, you can work this out. I know you can.” That line stuck with her that night and ever afterward, helping bit by bit to lift the storm clouds of despair. And now—well, look at where they were.
With her three bridesmaids already gone out, the only one left in her bridal party to go down the aisle before her was Lily, her maid of honor and best friend. Lily was looking stunning today, her blonde hair having just recently been styled in a shoulder-length bob and her makeup making the color of her eyes stand out. More than just the superficial, though, it was something about the way that she carried herself today—or rather, that she had been gradually carrying herself more over the past year. The university experience was turning out to be good for her, helping her to take on more responsibility and rise to the occasion. As Lily stood here today, her slender form accentuated by the tailored turquoise bridesmaid dress and her chin held high in confident self-assurance, Angelica saw none of the childlike aspect that Lily classically emitted. It had been replaced by the dignity of a woman.
Of course, right as this thought passed through Angelica’s head, Lily turned to face her and grinned, that same goofy smile of hers that you couldn’t help but reciprocate. Angelica returned it, one side of her mouth lifting more than the other, and a laugh of combined happiness and nerves slipped out. Lily also laughed in response before her eyes grew watery and she moved in to give Angelica as big a hug as she could without messing up either of their delicately constructed appearances.
Her face over Angelica’s shoulder, Lily spoke, a waver in her voice, “I can’t believe it’s happening, Angie. I’m just so, so happy for you.”
Angelica gave Lily a squeeze. “I know, me either. Thank you, Lil. Really, thank you so much.”
Lily quickly pulled away and sniffled, breathing deeply to keep from crying right before it was her turn to walk out. The musical cue came, the nod from the wedding planner, and Lily was gone, leaving Angelica alone with her dad. Here it was. This was her time.
As the wedding-day jitters settled into her stomach, Angelica had to swallow and yawn to try to calm her nerves. Almost sixty of her friends and family were out there, not to mention a similar number from Brian’s side, all happily waiting to see her walk down the aisle. And there, at the end, he would be standing—her husband-to-be, her soul mate, her beloved, the strong and noble and gorgeous Brian Parrish. Mrs. Brian Parrish. Angelica Parrish. Her cheek lifted again in an indomitable smile just thinking about it.
Unfortunately, a side effect of her nerves was a growing need to use the toilet. She frowned and shuffled her legs, trying to take her mind off it. True, she hadn’t peed since a little before starting to get ready in the first place, close to two hours ago. Then, once she had put the dress on, she had no way of moving it out of the way to use the bathroom. She’d gotten the advice of having one of her bridesmaids do it, but the thought of having someone else basically help her undress didn’t sit well with her, even someone as close to her as Lily or her own mother. Even in high school, she’d always felt uncomfortable with disrobing around other girls in the locker room. In fact, now that she thought about it, that was where she’d been bullied by Laura Katz—but she didn’t want to think about that. She would just hold it until after the ceremony.
And now—now it was happening. Just as they had rehearsed, she and her dad took their place in front of the door. Behind her, someone was straightening her train, and her wedding planner was giving her one final lookover before smiling professionally and giving her a wink. “Have fun!” she said, then stepped to the side, raised her hand, and cued the two doorkeepers right as the music reached its swell.
As she stepped out into the fresh air, her heart hammering away, Angelica tried to remember what she’d been told during rehearsal. Keep your chin level. Don’t rush. Don’t forget to smile. That last reminder was unnecessary, as she now found herself unable to stop smiling, a beaming grin stretching from ear to ear, bright as the spring sun above her, radiating out her overflowing, infectious glee. On both sides of the paving stone pathway, friends and family were all on their feet, their faces filled with pride, happiness, and love. Thankfully, the wind was low enough to keep her dress from getting out of hand as she walked, and a clear and brilliant blue spring sky formed a second, larger wedding canopy over her. Everything really was perfect.
Everything, that is, except her bladder. A sudden twinge in it caused her smile to falter for a split second. No longer than a split second, though. This was her wedding day, after all. Nothing could dampen her spirits today. Still, she was regretting not emptying it earlier, even if it meant getting assistance with her dress. If that was what most brides had to do, then she could have just gotten over herself and done it too.
But now she was almost at the pavilion, where the bridal party stood lined up on both sides. Lily was smiling bigger than Angelica had ever seen, and Tina was already starting to cry. On the groom’s side, Jared, Brian’s best man, stood stock still, his dark face fixed in an expression of nobility, like a bronze bust. The rest of Brian’s groomsmen (whose names Angelica couldn’t recall) were likewise stood at attention, rather akin to the queen’s guard at Buckingham palace. And right there, waiting in the middle for her in front of the pastor, stood Brian himself. The two of them locked gazes. While his smile was not perhaps as large as her own, Angelica could read in his eyes a depth of emotion which none shared but the two of them. It was the face of the warrior, the man who takes up a fight not because he is convinced it is winnable, but because it is worth fighting—the man who must actively take courage, even when all seems lost, who must “desire life like water and yet drink death like wine”—and who, though he least expected it, comes out the victor. Even now, she could see tears brimming in his eyes, which were soon matched by the ones in her own.
As she finished her pilgrimage to the front of the pavilion, the music softly closed and the pastor’s wizened voice gently asked, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”
Beside her, her father decisively replied, “Her mother and I.” He leaned in and tenderly kissed Angelica on the cheek, squeezed her hand, and slipped off to his seat by her mother. Now left by herself, Angelica stepped forward to meet Brian, who took his place by her side. She could feel the heat emanating off him and felt with absolute assurance that she was right where she was supposed to be.
The congregants were seated, and now the ceremony proper began. In the haze of her nuptial bliss, very little penetrated Angelica’s attention. She was too full of bursting joy to absorb much of what was being said.
Unfortunately, she was keenly aware of being full of something else as well. More than just happiness was distracting her, as her bladder’s signals were now coming in nonstop. She shuffled her legs impatiently. Well…she would just have to wait. In the meantime, she tried to shush her nerves, telling herself that it was all psychological and would go away soon enough. It wasn’t as if she had any choice in the matter, anyhow.
~*~*~*~*~
It didn’t go away.
The ceremony had ended, the two of them had kissed as newly minted husband and wife, the bridal party and family members had gathered for pictures to be taken, and the whole time, Angelica had been trying to keep any worry from showing up in her face as the pressure in her bladder only grew more and more. It was gradual enough to keep her from panicking—but also to keep her from doing anything about it. Which led to this point.
After finishing up with photographs, she and Brian had entered the main hall, a separate building from the lodge where she and her bridesmaids had begun the day. The large, open room was filled with the crowd of friends and family, now looking much bigger indoors. Any subconscious thought she may have had about discreetly disappearing to relieve herself was dashed upon encountering the endless procession of smiling acquaintances approaching her to give hugs, congratulations, and well wishes. She received each of them graciously enough, but the truth was she was only half paying attention to anything said to her. For one thing, the entire day was something of a blur. And for another thing, her mild concern from earlier was increasingly transitioning into legitimate consternation—and almost panic.
She knew the schedule. They’d gone over it enough times. There would be the initial meet and greet time, followed by the tossing of the bouquet, the removal and tossing of the garter, and then the toasts by the best man and maid of honor. After that was a general time for dancing, and that would be when she would finally go pee, before the special dances and more speeches. She just had to hold it until then. In the meantime, she grabbed a few snacks and some champagne.
The bouquet toss went off without a hitch. It was caught by one of Brian’s guests, someone Angelica didn’t know, and if she was honest, she didn’t particularly care, either. To her mind, it was just one more thing checked off her list before she could take a bathroom break. She would make it. In her head, she repeated the remaining items off like a mantra: garter, speeches, bathroom. Garter, speeches, bathroom.
Once the bouquet toss was over, it was then time for Brian to take off her garter. A folding chair had been set up for her in the middle of the room, and she now sat, her guests forming a large circle around her. Even sitting, she had to wiggle her bottom into the plastic seat, trying to quiet her urinary system. It was unfortunate that her only task in this was to sit still. Sitting was easy enough. Staying still, not so much. Her pee was pushing ponderously down on her sphincter, sending aches through her whole abdomen and thighs, and she tried not to grimace.
Brian, of course, was unaware of the plight she was undergoing, instead all bashful boyish smiles as he knelt down and tucked his hands under the hem of her dress. The onlookers made jokingly prurient cheers and laughter as he bent over to get his arms further up without raising her skirt too much. Angelica felt herself go a little red from it, but she knew it was tradition, and all in good fun. Besides, she was too focused on keeping her pee under control to care too much.
That is, until Brian’s hands moved past her knee.
Suddenly, she felt herself inhaling deeply as his touch prompted an unexpected and visceral reaction in her. Without warning, she was transported back to the first time she had experienced physical arousal, several years before when at the amusement park. As she felt herself getting turned on by his hands on her leg, the same sensations flooded her, the sense of her mind being a spectator of her body’s performance. The feeling of Brian touching her thigh was catapulting her into a state of erotic thrill, which was only exacerbating—and being accentuated by—her growing reservoir of urine. She swallowed. This wasn’t a part of the plan. What was she supposed to do now?
Time seemed to stop. All the assorted sounds and faces around her felt as though they were fading into nonexistence. The sensation was very much like that of falling asleep, only instead of her consciousness fading, it was intensifying—a hyper focus on this exact moment and this exact combination of circumstances and stimuli. She knew her face was flushed, the result of the surreal blend of embarrassment, fear, her overfull bladder, and sexual excitement. Her eyes were wide and unmovably fixed on Brian’s face, every detail of his concentrated expression burning itself into her retinas.
She sat stone still, unable to move. Every nerve, every muscle, every sinew was pinpointed on just one thing: keeping her urine under control. Her hands were down by her sides, white-knuckled from gripping the sides of the chair. More than anything, she wished that she could get up and go pee, or close her thighs, or grab her crotch, or anything. At this point, anything at all would help keep back the torrent of scalding liquid straining at the edges of her bladder and pushing, pushing, pushing to be released.
A drop of sweat worked its way free from between Angelica’s shoulders and began its erratic descent, tingling and tantalizing on its way down. She swallowed in nervous anticipation. Brian’s probing hands, hot at the palms but cold at the fingertips, edged their way further up her leg. Each brush against her skin, especially under her dress and creeping closer and closer to her most private of places, sent shivers through her entire body. Her thighs were quivering imperceptibly now, both from the exertion of keeping the dam sealed and from the thrill of suspense. Today that special place became his, and her previous stumblings into that region of wonder that had opened to her by accident, those sexual experiences which had seemed at the time simultaneously so dazzling and yet so reprehensible—they took on a new light. The feeling of impropriety she had had about her past encounters with her sexuality had not been because it was forbidden her, but because it had not yet been the appropriate time. That world, that part of her, in and of itself, was not polluted—and she and Brian had kept from polluting it. And now—now they would cross the threshold, together. Her heartbeat quickened.
At the same time, as her excitement increased, there rose in tandem the throbbing desperation of her swollen bladder. The two sensations fed into each other, enhancing one another in a symbiotic mutuality. Somehow, without her meaning for it to happen, her erogenous system had become intertwined with the needle-like icy jabs that stemmed from a desperate need to pee, the same ones which were now pulsating through her lower abdomen. Her memories of her very first orgasm resurfaced, when she climaxed and peed her pants at the same time on the roller coaster. In a similar fashion, she recalled wetting her dress when she and Brian shared their first kiss. And now? Now that the two of them were married and going to give their virginity to each other—was there any way she could get through it without having an accident?
And…did she even want to?
Time felt as though it were passing in a dream, and Brian’s fingers were only by now reaching the very upper limits of her thigh. Soon enough he would have to realize that he was on the wrong leg and switch. But until then, with his hands touching her there, so close to the outside of her lacy thong panties, and with her oceanic deluge of urine just as close on the other side, both of them equally stimulating and sandwiching her private parts, she could no longer keep her excitement in. A moan slipped embarrassingly out of her mouth, and her face went even redder. Her womanhood was by now engorged and throbbing, and she felt sure that if Brian were to touch it, she would scream.
As her moan escaped, thankfully unnoticed, it was followed by something else escaping. For a split second, she clenched a hair too late, and the first pioneering drops of pee tasted freedom. Heat spread out over the front of her underwear, but as they were already wet, it didn’t make very much difference. Still, the flimsy fabric would offer virtually no barrier to any leaks. And if any more came out, and if Brian realized it…
Another brief jet burst out. Then another. Angelica whimpered softly, biting on her lip, hoping her predicament wasn’t as conspicuous as she felt. And Brian’s hand was so close now. Any closer, or any more loss of control, and there would be no way he wouldn’t notice what was happening. Her breath stopped, bated with the knowledge of what was about to happen.
And then he pulled his hand away.
Angelica began to breathe again. It was a small respite, but hopefully enough for her to regain control over her body. As Brian turned toward the crowd and shook his head, prompting a chorus of chuckles, Angelica too let out a laugh, high-pitched in its release of tension. She had come right up to the brink there. Now she had to steel herself for leg number two and hold on until she could discreetly slip away to use a toilet. In the meantime, though, her heart was still jackhammering away in her chest as it settled into her just how close she had come to having a total pee accident on her wedding day, in front of all her guests.
But if the guests weren’t there…
Brian’s hand was making the ascent up her other leg now, and the light brushes of his fingers were sending electric ecstatic shocks through her tensed muscles. As his reach crept up past her knee, memories of the blinding bliss of her past orgasms made her crotch tingle, a feeling intensified by the effort she was putting into squeezing the valve shut—and, for better or worse, by the rapidly cooling dampness of her panties. These lacy white panties, specially chosen to be sexy on her wedding night, were now wet and in danger of getting wetter. And yet…somehow, it was turning her on even more. Her breaths became heavier.
Her thoughts, which were coming in increasingly jumbled, flipped again to her experience on the roller coaster, right before peeing herself. She could recall her train of rational thought devolving more and more into mere awareness of stimuli, and the peculiar combination of memories it produced. Erotic sensations had overlapped and intermingled with the embarrassing and unpleasant recollections of post-accident mortification, the haunting disgrace and dirty wet clothes clinging to the skin. Such emotions should be miles apart. So how had they come to merge like that?
Brian’s hand was nearly to the garter now, but Angelica couldn’t keep her legs from shaking. Her bladder was on the verge of bursting.
Because it was certain that those emotions had merged. After wetting her pants on the roller coaster, she had been so turned on that she stopped on the walkway to give herself a spanking, surprising even herself. The revelation, so seemingly contradictory, had been a huge shock, contributing largely to why she tried to forget the whole incident as quickly as possible. But there was no denying it—her accident at the car wash proved it, when it was the feeling of being spanked by Brian as he watched her flood her shorts that had pushed her over the edge, causing her to climax again. The two feelings were combined, no doubt about it. And right at their intersection lay Brian, the love of her life, and now her husband.
And if he had made her orgasm and pee herself by accident, what would happen now, if he actually tried?
Angelica lowered her face, trying to hide her grimace as she bit hard on her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands, useless in the battle against her urine, squeezed even tighter on the edge of the chair until she felt a knuckle pop. The pain at her sphincter climbed in a crescendo, torturing and taunting her. If only she hadn’t been too shy to get help using the toilet earlier! As of now, this chair and this wedding dress were threatening to become her toilet, whether she agreed or not—a white seat of a different kind. Her train of thought was tumbling pell-mell through her head. No further, Brian You’re going to make me pee Pee all over your hand I just need to go To go pee To go pee all over your hand, Brian Pee all over you
And all this time, he had no idea what his probing fingers were doing to her. They were nearly upon the garter, where it lay naively shoved almost all the way up her thigh. If his hand was this far up, there existed the very real danger that he would feel what had leaked out so far. The wetness bored coldly into her inner legs, where they met her pelvis, her sexy undergarments tightly hugging her hips. Just pull it off, already! At this rate, unable to hold herself, or move, or close her legs, or do anything, she didn’t know how much longer she would be able to last.
Then, after this seeming eternity of struggling against her full bladder—and trying to hide her struggle at the same time—it happened again. Another spurt of pee shot out into her thong, only this time, it burst out with enough force to arc past the ineffective barrier of her panties and spray in an arc over her inner thighs—
—her inner thighs, where Brian’s hand was.
She instantly saw the transformation in his face. It went from determined with a mild bashfulness to bewildered. She knew that he hadn’t immediately understood what he had felt, but he was bound to put the pieces together pretty quickly.
Angelica’s respirations came in smaller and faster breaths until they stopped altogether. The fear, the suspense while the weight of the inevitable hung over her, signified in excruciating reality by the weight of her urine inside her, all made her abdomen tighten. Surely Brian would realize what was happening—what was about to happen—and it was filling her with the thrill of terror. Her face was still flushed, and as she could see the wheels turning in Brian’s eyes, another leak jetted out. Then another. Then another. Despite losing so much pee, she could feel no relief, and she knew she must have a veritable ocean inside. She also knew that if she were wearing pants, there would be an unmistakable dark patch by now. As it was, she was almost certain her pee was dripping off her chair by this point. Thankfully, her dress was long enough and layered enough that it seemed to be hiding the evidence.
Brian’s expression was by now changing again, this time from confusion to disbelief. She could feel his hand shift from reaching for her garter to feeling up inside her thigh, no doubt trying to prove himself wrong in what he now suspected—what was all too correct. His fingers slid right up to her crotch, their warmth mingling seamlessly with the warmth of her own accident. And then, just like that, they were right on top of her private parts.
Angelica had been right in guessing earlier that she wouldn’t be able to keep quiet if he touched her there. The good news was that rather than screaming, she instead breathed out a long, breathy moan, quiet enough that only Brian heard it. The bad news was that it wasn’t the only thing she let out. As soon as his fingers touched her right in her genitalia, she began full-on peeing her dress.
She knew her face was bright red as she sat there, helplessly urinating into Brian’s hand in front of a large crowd of oblivious spectators. She moaned again, a little louder this time, her sexual excitement mounting, fueled by the relief, the humiliation, the anticipation, and the expression Brian was wearing right now. As soon as she had begun wetting herself into his fingers, he had lifted his head and looked her directly in the eye, and his face bore a combination of shock, surprise, compassion, and something else—something hungry. In response, every pore of her body felt galvanized, eager to be devoured. Something that had been stirred in her before but never fully roused was now coming to life, and she suddenly wanted more than anything else for Brian to rip her clothes off and see her naked.
All these thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant, dipping back and forth between consciousness and subconsciousness. In reality, only a few seconds had passed, in which she could feel the droplets of pee beginning to trickle down her thighs and the light spattering over her ankles from where it was splashing in a puddle on the floor. Although her dress was long enough to both cover the sight and muffle the sound of her accident, she knew there was no hiding it once she stood…and even sitting, there was no telling how long it would stay hidden.
It was Brian who acted. In one swift motion, he withdrew his hand from her crotch, sliding the garter off her leg at the same time. As soon as he was no longer touching her there, Angelica let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and sank down slightly in her chair. She then squeezed her muscles as hard as she could to try to cut off the flow, only succeeding after the third try. Even now, the pain was stabbing her in the gut like a red-hot poker, and she didn’t know if she could keep the rest in for long. Her accident thus far had only granted her mild relief, so she knew there was much more to come.
By this time, though, Brian was standing, waving the garter with a flashy smile so as to keep anyone from noticing there was anything wrong. Then, while everyone was laughing and clapping, he discreetly sidled over to Lily and whispered something in her ear. Lily’s face blanched slightly, but she gave a terse nod and disappeared into the crowd. The next thing Angelica knew was the emcee announcing that everyone would now be moving outside for the couple’s private dance and some more pictures. Despite her current predicament, she couldn’t help but smile inwardly at Brian’s resourcefulness in protecting her dignity, since their private dance wasn’t supposed to be until much later, and they had no plans for extra pictures.
The next few minutes were agonizing for her. The guests, mildly nonplussed by the unexpected change of plans, took their time in making their way outside, still chatting and grabbing extra snacks as they went. Some of the more gregarious and less observant of the attendees didn’t seem to make any move at all and had to be subtly but firmly directed towards the exit. The entire time, she was forced to sit stock-still with a forced smile and do her utmost to endure the searing agony in her crotch from trying to keep the broken seal closed. Even with the room empty, what would she do? Run off to a bathroom to take care of business while Brian cleaned up whatever evidence remained on or under her chair? And what if her dress had a visible wet spot on the seat? Sure, the synthetic fabric didn’t seem too absorbent, but she couldn’t bank on that, could she? And also…even if she did go to the bathroom, how would she even maneuver her many layers out of the way? This was why she had gotten into this predicament in the first place!
At long last, after several minutes of ensuring that all the guests had truly vacated the room, Brian had a quick but pointed talk with the DJ, doubtless to make sure he too left. Angelica’s pain had subsided mildly by now, which was a small comfort, at least. Once it truly was just the two of them left, Brian swiftly strode back to her, his face full of concerned compassion. When he spoke, his voice was low, but with an edge of worry. “Are you all right, Angie?”
Angelica could only swallow and give a small nod. Brian lowered himself in front of her again and put his hands on her shoulders. “Have you been holding it all day?”
She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. And it’s impossible to use a bathroom in this dress without help.”
He blew a sigh out of one corner of his mouth, puffing his cheek. “I’m…I’m sorry, baby. Here, let me help clean you up.” He stood again and put an arm under her shoulders, gently raising her to her feet.
As soon as she was standing, Angelica groaned and bit her lip as her urine shifted inside her. Now that she could use her hands without people seeing, she immediately grabbed both thighs and gripped hard. Hopefully Brian could help her get on a toilet properly with this dress—she still really had to pee!
Brian, however, took note of this reaction and raised his eyebrows. “Do…do you still need to go?” His tone carried something different in it this time, but she couldn’t quite place what it was. She could only nod again, her face displaying her pain.
He watched her for a few seconds like that, his face taking on a new quality as the compassion became accompanied by something contrasting. It was similar to the expression he had worn earlier, conveying something more like a longing…almost a craving. Then, placing his hand on the small of her back, he directed her away from the chair. Even though she needed to get to a bathroom as soon as possible, he paused again, and when she turned her head, she saw that he was gazing down at where she had been sitting. Her face went red again upon seeing the small but still quite evident puddle underneath her chair.
Brian faced her again, and she swallowed. It was unmistakable now, the desire in his eyes. The shiver it sent through her, almost one of fear, nearly made her lose control again. And then she glanced further down and saw the front of his pants, and she let out a tiny gasp.
There was an obvious bulge.
Making eye contact again, Brian must have known what she had seen, because he gave her a wide, Cheshire-like smile. She had spent so much time musing over how bizarre it was that the thought of having an accident in front of him could turn her on, and the whole time, she had never seriously considered the possibility that it could turn him on, too. Was it just a thing that people could be into? Her heart was pounding harder inside her chest now, and the thrill that went through her was almost enough to make her start leaking again.
And then…she did.
A high-pitched whimper slipped between her tightly clamped lips as heat filled her underwear again. The whole time, Brian watched her, his blue eyes still boring into her soul. The one-second spurt was followed by another, and then another. In the intensity of this moment between newlywed husband and wife, she could do nothing but stand there, rooted to the spot, as more streams began trickling down her thighs.
It was Brian who acted. He confidently seized her hand with the determination of a man who knows exactly what he wants and then strode briskly, almost dragging her behind him, toward a door off to the side of the hall. Opening it, he used one arm to direct her inside first before following and closing the door behind them. Angelica had by now stopped peeing, but she couldn’t be sure there were no drips forming a trail to where she now stood, inside a janitor’s closet, evidently. What were they doing here?
Brian stood right in front of her, staring down at her with his eyes inflamed with hunger. Angelica swallowed nervously as another brief spurt of pee leaked out again. What, exactly, did he intend to do to her here?
Without saying a word, he turned her around and crouched down, grabbing the ends of her dress with his hands. Despite his resolve, he lacked experience dealing with women’s clothes, and his hands grasped clumsily at the bulky layers of petticoats as he tried to lift them. Eventually she had to help, gathering her skirts in her arms and raising them up to her knees, exposing her calves to the cool air swirling around the enclosed space from the central air conditioning.
He wasn’t satisfied. His voice came out, quiet yet direct, in a throaty imperative: “Show me.” Then, with one hand pressed firmly between her shoulder blades, he bent her over so that her bottom stuck out like a ledge, and with the other hand, he guided her hem further up until it crested the hill.
And now, here she stood: with her butt on clear display, the moist skin developing goosebumps both with the breeze and with the erotic frisson of exhibitionism. Her breathing was shallow and rapid in her nervous state, unsure of whether she would even make it to a bathroom at this point, or if Brian would make her give in and have a total accident right where she was. She had imagined what her first time undressing in front of him would be like, and the reality of her present circumstances was making her heart feel like a game of ping-pong. The relative silence meant that the only sounds heard above the gentle whoosh of the air conditioning were their own respirations, barely audible in the palpable anticipation.
Then, tentatively and softly, he placed his hands on her cheeks.
She drew in a long breath as they delicately traced the porcelain globes of her behind, their warmth stimulating her and making the muscles alternatingly tense and relax as the explorer familiarized himself with terra incognita. Soon, however, his touch grew firmer, and now he moved not with cautious deliberation, but rather with intentional sensuality. Angelica closed her eyes and drank it in, her sex drive revving up. Although she had looked forward to this day for months in the concrete and years in the abstract, she would never have guessed that it would end up with her new husband petting her bottom in a mop closet while she was about to pee her underwear. And he was just warming up.
Brian’s hands caressed her natiform contours, sending shudders of ecstasy through her. As she stood there, bent over and holding her skirts up, her shapely rear end protruded, her thong on clear display. Her cheeks were already voluptuously framed by the outline of her panties, and by now the sheer fabric, made even more transparent in its wetness, left nothing to the imagination. Brian’s fingers curved around each hemisphere of her derriere, and she could hear his breathing growing heavier. Then he slid his hand right in between them, rubbing her gently up and down across her sensitive rear hole. In response, she moaned lustfully, squeezed her eyes shut, and released more of her urine. It sprayed out through her saturated underwear in a stream that splattered on the floor, sprinkling even more over her ankles and shoes and creating a new puddle.
His hand worked back and forth, front to back, stimulating her in all the right ways. As he slid his grip over her throbbing womanhood, her moans deepened and intensified. At the same time, she peed out another jet, pouring hotly over Brian’s hand. He responded by moving it faster, sending galvanic shocks of euphoria through her entire body. Her mewling pants intensified, and her face was hot with a sexual flush. Her control over her own body was rapidly dissipating, falling under the sway of his electrifying touch. She needed him—needed him to keep going, never to stop—to take her all the way to the moon. She gasped out salaciously, reveling in his reciprocal grunts of arousal. Right now, all thoughts of her puddle in the main hall or their guests waiting for them outside had fled from her mind. Her dopamine-laced brain could only focus on making this moment continue. She couldn’t believe how turned on she felt. Even the other times she’d orgasmed paled in comparison to right now. And now Brian’s other hand was back on her trembling left cheek, hot and fiery and overpowering…
She needed him. She needed him now.
“Brian,” she breathed, her voice sultry and husky. “Spank me, Brian.”
At first, he didn’t respond, and she wasn’t sure if her words had even come out intelligibly. But then, after a second, she felt his hand lift off her rear end, the skin underneath immediately cooling in the conditioned air. A moment of inflamed suspense made her breath stop, and then, with a resonating sharp crack, his palm landed squarely back on her cheek, sending an explosion of smarting pain through her backside like a thunderbolt. In a visceral reaction, Angelica arched her back and involuntarily uttered a moan of sheer carnal bliss. Brian’s hand drew back and smacked down again. Then again. And again. Faster and faster, in an escalating rhythm matched by the working of his other hand over her private parts. She moaned again, unable to stop herself. He was driving her wild, more than he even knew. The heat of passion was building at her crotch, and pressure and desire were both mounting higher and higher, her need to be both emptied and filled at the same time increasing to a breaking point. Her voice, throaty in its euphoria, was bursting out unbidden at each slap of Brian’s hand, and every muscle was tense with the buildup towards climax. She couldn’t hold on anymore. The freight train was in full motion now, and even if she wanted to, there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She screamed, right as a gushing stream of sizzling golden pee exploded inexorably out of her crotch, spraying out in a translucent arc over her legs and splattering noisily on the floor. As Brian’s hand kept working, even faster now, it slid back and forth under the warm cataract, breaking the thunderous cascade into diverse sparkling chains of droplets and even atomizing her liquid relief into a fine mist that filled the air with the rich musk of her urine. Unlike her brief leaks before, this time, Angelica had no more control over holding back than she did over her towering sexual exhilaration. As she peed fiercely through her thong, by now totally saturated, she found herself bending over even further, using her skirt-laden arms to press up against her own breasts, which were badly in need of being touched. Her butt jutted even further out than before, making her unstoppable golden flow spurt out more horizontally as a result. It hammered into Brian’s palm, showering out from between his fingers to tinkle widely over the floor, over the front of her hanging dress, over Brian’s pants and shoes, and all against her own shaking thighs and tense calves. Coursing rivers of pee drained down from under her rounded derriere over her taut legs to pool in her high heels and collect in the swiftly growing puddle around her feet. As her bladder emptied itself of its own accord, Brian’s hands kept up their work, the one mercilessly stimulating her womanhood and the other chastising her curvaceous bottom, each blow freeing another moan from her lips and sending a ripple through her rear end, scattering the clinging urine in showering drops like dew from a wildflower. Angelica was completely at his mercy as he made her pee herself the rest of the way through her panties, and she didn’t even know if she wanted to stop.
At last, after a little over twenty seconds, she was done. Not a dry spot was left to be found on her underwear, and the puddle under her feet was close to three feet in diameter. She had finished relieving herself, and the rush it gave her was so palpable that her legs nearly buckled underneath her. Even though only one of her two needs had been taken care of, it felt so heavenly that she couldn’t even speak, her mouth merely spouting unintelligible babblings as her eyes rolled back in her head from the pure bliss. Her head lolled forward as she panted, trying to come down from her high.
Brian, on the other hand, wasn’t done. In fact, he was just starting.
In the haze of her euphoric mind, she barely heard the sound of a zipper and some rustling of clothing. The next thing she knew, the hand in her crotch slid under the sheer material, now quickly cooling, and pulled the entirety of the thin band of fabric to one side. Her heartrate quickened again as she realized that Brian was now looking at her naked rear in all its glory, and that could only mean one thing. She had thought about this moment, wondered what it would be like—but she had never imagined she would be losing her virginity in a storage room after wetting her wedding dress. Exhilarated suspense sent tingles through her skin, and she felt sure that if she hadn’t just emptied her bladder, she would be peeing from excitement.
She could feel Brian’s fingers probe her private parts, opening up her labia. As he did so, a liquid other than urine dripped out. Behind her, she could hear his breathing, heavy with anticipation. She was more turned on than she thought possible, and he was teasing her. What was he waiting for? She needed him inside her. She needed him inside her now.
And then, the next thing she knew, she got her wish.
She blurted out a moan that morphed into a yell as he slid himself, larger than she thought could fit, all the way inside her. A dazzling golden ecstasy, a pleasure so fierce it was almost pain, emanated from her private parts and permeated every nerve and every pore. Once all the way inside, Brian drew back and then thrust forward again, sending another burst of giddiness through her. His pace quickened, his hands on her hips, pulling himself deep inside her, over and over again. With every push, her bare bottom bounced off his hips, making her cheeks jiggle and depositing some of its combination of sweat, urine, and vaginal lubrication onto his pristine slacks. The small part of her brain which was still capable of cogent thought was glad at least that his pants were dark, so they wouldn’t show a stain. The rest of her mind was simply overcome by the blinding pulses of throbbing pleasure surging rhythmically through her with each successive thrust by Brian.
Brian continued making love to his callipygian bride, plowing more forcefully and more rapidly now, and she had to move one of her hands to the wall just to keep from being knocked over by the power of his passion. His hands were gripping her tighter now, and she could hear over her own moans the deeper, masculine moans of her brand-new husband, as he breathed out her name with the voice of a man totally unstrung with virility and sexual fervor. Then, out of the blue, he removed one of his hands from her hips and brought it back down, with a resounding thwack, across her butt cheek. The cry it elicited from her only made him push faster, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he had gotten a little bigger, too.
At this point, the waves of bliss were coming over her so fast and strong that she thought she might break. It was all she could do to stay standing, and she had to greedily gulp down deep breaths of oxygen, afraid that otherwise she might pass out. They were in a positive feedback loop now, each one adding to the other’s arousal, and the only way of getting off the ride was to get each other off. She just hoped it wouldn’t leave her totally wasted as a result, since it was so intense—and so good—that it was almost frightening. By now, Brian was pounding inside her so hard that she couldn’t even control her volume and simply let her screams of ecstasy resound from her slack jaw.
And now, behind her, Brian’s moans were also reaching a crescendo, and then, quite without warning, she felt him grow almost impossibly big inside her. Her womanhood was being stretched as it had never been before, the most tender parts being ravished by the manful vigor of Brian’s ceaseless ramming. Angelica felt herself pushed to the very top. The unbelievably amazing bliss reached a zenith, and she squeezed her eyes shut, grabbing her own breast with her hand and letting out a howl as she reached her climax. She couldn’t see—she couldn’t think—she couldn’t do anything but try to breathe and not faint dead away as she was plunged headfirst into the depths and throes of wild bodily bliss. She also had no way of stopping herself when her orgasm made her bladder seize up again and spray out the two seconds’ worth of pee that had collected in it since it had last been emptied. It spread hotly around Brian’s turgid shaft before trickling outward, tickling the inside of her thighs.
This apparently sent Brian over the edge. Angelica heard him grunt, then felt his member swell and jerk inside her. It twitched for several seconds, pressing up against the sensitive wall of her vagina, and she could feel a new heat filling her up as he too climaxed, shooting his pearly load inside her.
They stood there for what felt an interminable duration, slowly drifting down from their high. With the only sound being their gradually calming breaths and the gentle whoosh from the vent, Brian wrapped his arms around his new bride and gently caressed her hair. They stayed silent for close to a minute, rocking slightly, reveling in their post-consummation afterglow.
At long last, he leaned in close and whispered into her ear, “How’s that for a private dance?” In her hazy bliss, the only response Angelica could give was to burst out into a genuine, carefree laugh, and then turn to kiss his grinning lips.
~*~*~*~*~
Lily tried to keep moving. It was her responsibility as maid of honor to be the point person for Angie, taking care of anything and everything she needed. As such, when Brian had told her tersely that there was an “incident” and that he needed her to get everyone outside and leave just the two of them there, she didn’t argue or question further. She instead swiftly slipped over to the emcee, made up an excuse about a private couple’s dance, and mentally tried to keep from overthinking what Brian could have meant by incident.
A side effect of having to stay on top of making sure everything went according to plan was that she hadn’t been able to step away from her post all day. This left her both hungry and thirsty, coasting on pure adrenaline and doing her best not to eye the refreshments too much, since that would just make things worse. She kept telling herself that once the reception settled into its lull halfway through, she would make sure to grab herself a plate and a cup of…well, anything, really. She licked her lips as her stomach growled, a gnawing complaint at being neglected. Even the champagne looked tantalizing, despite her determination to keep her commitment to avoiding alcohol.
Of course, in addition to ignoring her stomach’s emptiness, she had also had to ignore her bladder’s increasing fullness. The only good part about being forced to go without any food or drink was that it also meant she could go without a bathroom break for as long as she had. Let’s see—she had peed right before putting on her bridesmaid’s dress this morning, at a little before 10, and…that was it. She hadn’t been to the toilet since then, and it was now close to 4. That had to be some kind of record for her, and she hadn’t even been trying.
Nevertheless, she was feeling the effects. Vaguely aware that the slower the bladder fills, the less severe signals it gives off, which is why your first-thing-in-the-morning pee is always more liquid than it feels like, she shuffled her legs with more than a hint of impatience. No matter how little she’d had to drink in the last six hours, it was more than enough time for her to fill just about to capacity. And judging by how much she had to go now, she was rapidly approaching it. Her lower abdomen felt solid and dense, almost as though the liquid inside her were a thick ooze instead of ordinary urine. It had begun hurting shortly after the reception had started, and now that pain was a constant companion. The only bright side was that it felt more like a distant ache, akin to sore muscles, than like desperation. That at least made it easier to hold it. Of course, she knew that she should try to relieve herself soon, but the less she allowed her mind to entertain the idea—or to contemplate the reality of the source of her discomfort—the better. She was coasting on adrenaline, after all. There was no time to think about needing to pee.
Of course, now she was caught in the peculiar situation of not being able to take a bathroom break, and yet having nothing to do but wait. She had no idea how long whatever was going on with Angie and Brian would take, but she assumed that as soon as they were ready again, the reception would start up again in full swing. Even now, there was an atmosphere of testy restlessness among the guests, most likely due to a mix of having to stand outside and from being cut off from the refreshments, which were all still indoors. It was up to her to get everything back up to tempo once the bride and groom were ready, and she couldn’t risk stepping away even for a few minutes. So here she was, trying to keep moving but with nowhere really to go. She sighed and shifted her weight. It had already been close to ten minutes. What was going on in there?
Discreetly distancing herself from the crowd of guests, Lily surreptitiously cracked open the door to the reception hall and silently inserted herself. She didn’t want anyone to notice her and barrage her with inquiries as to the happy couple when she herself didn’t have any answers—and especially when she could barely stand still anymore. Peeking one last glance out at the throngs of attendees, she paused for a moment or two longer than necessary, not willing to admit to herself the reason why. Still, she knew well enough. She had been trying to spot where Jared was.
Jared. One of Brian’s best friends, apparently—and someone she had never met before this weekend. What was she doing, thinking about him at a time like this? She reddened slightly and quickly closed the door, embarrassed at herself. Still, she couldn’t deny it: ever since she had first met him, shortly before the rehearsal, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him—his glowing tan skin, his wide shoulders, his dark eyes—and whenever he’d shown that smile of his, complete with dimples and perfect teeth…well, let’s just say it had suddenly gotten harder for her to breathe. Try to ignore it as she might, she had spent many of her freer moments letting her mind (and gaze) drift back over to him. Being able to take his arm and go down the aisle together during the recessional had only made her feel even gooier inside.
She gave her head a shake. It was silly. She didn’t know him, and he didn’t know her. Why would he pay any attention to her at all? She was just being an idiot, like she’d been with that degenerate after graduating. What was his name again? Oh, right, Jay. Jay, Jared—maybe she just had a thing for names beginning with a J. It didn’t mean anything. She was only being like this because she still had no one at college express any interest in her. She had watched Angie’s relationship from Brian develop from inception to their wedding day, and she…she was still single.
Lowering her head, she let her hair hang down and obscure her face as she blinked hard in irritation at herself. She was Angie’s maid of honor, for crying out loud. This was no time to feel self-pity, and especially when she needed to focus. She took a deep breath, flipped her bangs out of her eyes, and ventured back through the atrium to the main hall. So. An “incident” had happened. What could that mean? And why would Brian use a euphemism like that? A knot began to form in Lily’s stomach, only putting further pressure on her bladder, as all the worst kinds of suspicions started sprouting from the soil of her imagination. Had Angie suddenly felt sick? Was she currently puking in the bathroom, or passed out with a fever? If so, what on earth would they do to sort out the rest of the wedding? She quickened her pace and suppressed a nervous twitch in her bladder.
Peering into the deserted main hall, now seeming so much larger in its emptiness, she glanced back and forth to try to find any sign of Angie or Brian. The vacant expanse offered her no clues at first inspection, and she strode inside, her high heels resounding on the tile floor. Turning her head in all directions, she tried to ascertain where they could have gone. Should she check the restrooms? What about the garden grounds? Sidling up to a table, she plucked a handful of grapes off a platter and popped them into her mouth. At least while she was here, she could do something about her hunger pangs. And maybe if she ended up checking the restrooms, she could use them at the same time.
As she chewed contentedly on the grapes, letting the juice drain satisfyingly down her throat, she noticed an unusual sound over the resonant hum of the central air conditioning. It was difficult to place, but it could almost be a voice. Was it Angie’s? And where was it coming from? She tilted her head, her brow knitted in focus, and attempted to decipher its provenance. In the empty room, all sounds seemed to reverberate from everywhere at once. She slowly stepped in one direction, then changed her mind and went in the other. It was slow going, trying to pinpoint the origin of the noise.
At last, after multiple false starts, she could at least tell the approximate direction of the source of the peculiar sound. Gradually approaching the side of the room where it came from, she could both hear it more clearly and yet also understand it less. It was like a chant, like a rhythmic wail. But the voice was unmistakably Angie’s. And it seemed to be coming from…the wall? No wait, not the wall. But…the broom closet? Lily cautiously neared the door and listened. It almost sounded like crying, but it was so regular, and the pitch was strange…what was it? She tentatively held her hand out to give a timid knock, swallowing and giving her inner thighs a clench at the same time.
Her fist hovered over the door, her sustenance-deprived mind still trying to make sense of the bizarre noises Angie was making. Something in her subconscious held her back from bringing her knuckles down, something telling her to quietly go back outside. And then it clicked, the reality that she had understood without understanding coming to light in her brain, and she pulled her hand back to cover her mouth.
If she was hearing it right, Angie and Brian were…doing it…right there in the closet.
Lily’s lower abdomen tightened, and she had to cross one leg over the other. Was this something they had agreed to do beforehand? To just…hook up in the closet, in the middle of their reception, where anyone could find them? The secondhand embarrassment of being so close to bursting in on them settled in on her, making her hair stand on end and sending prickles all through her skin. She never would have guessed that Angie would do something so brazen. If anything, it was much more the sort of thing that she herself might do. Might do. It was still awfully bold. And she had very nearly walked right in on them. She clenched her sphincter tight again and stepped back. She had to get out of here, disappear and feign ignorance of this whole thing, before they emerged. Or before something else emerged. She continued to squeeze everything shut, the shock still threatening to make her start peeing in her dress.
As her foot landed on the tile behind her, however, it didn’t tap. Rather, it splished.
She dropped her gaze to the floor and narrowed her eyes to see what she had stepped in. There appeared to be a tiny two-inch puddle of something there. A spilled drink? But wait, there was another. And another…and, hold on, there was a trail of them leading right up to the closet. But what was it? Had Angie and Brian taken some champagne in there with them? A sudden crescendo in passionate volume from Angie in the closet made Lily hurriedly straighten up, blushing, and turn to make a swift and silent retreat. As she did so, though, she cast her eyes back one more time to visually trace the path of spilled liquid. It continued more or less uniformly until reaching close to the middle of the room, where there was a larger puddle, and then the chair where Angie had been sitting—
And there, plain as day, reflecting the early afternoon light, was an even larger puddle, close to a foot in diameter. And it definitely wasn’t champagne.
Lily felt her throat and gut constrict as it dawned on her, despite her efforts to keep the realization from bubbling to the surface. Angie’s “incident” had really been an accident. It all made a kind of horrifying sense. Angie hadn’t gotten to pee all day either, and eventually she was forced to hold it until it was too late. Then, when she’d…wet herself…Brian had tried to downplay it, knowing Lily’s own sympathetic spastic bladder. But then why were they…y’know, getting it on? It hardly seemed like the kind of thing that could get someone hot under the collar. Hot in the underwear, yes, but in a different sense entirely. It was messy and gross and embarrassing and not the kind of thing that could be a turn-on. But…she had heard the moans. Clearly it wasn’t enough to kill the mood for Angie. Much as her brain tried to deny it, she knew with certainty both that Angie had had an accident and that she was currently losing her virginity.
And here Lily herself was, her bladder both sympathetically spastic and very full.
With a look of panic in her eyes, she hastily pushed the door open and emerged again into daylight. She had to find a bathroom ASAP, but she couldn’t risk using the one in the reception hall, couldn’t risk coming out at potentially the same time as Angie and Brian and then having to pretend she hadn’t heard anything. She swallowed hard, trying to imagine how she could even give her toast later on, knowing full well just how close she had come to accidental voyeurism of her best friend. Her mind was clouded with awkward bashfulness, which in turn was only exacerbated by her desperation, which was now descending on her in vicious throes. If she could only steal unnoticed back to the lodge, she could use the toilets there. Right now, though, her legs couldn’t move fast enough, with their every muscle taut in agonized suspense and her high heels unsuited for walking over turf. The pain of her overfilled bladder was intensifying now as the muscles began tightening against her will.
Mincing her way around the long side of the building, she tried to cut through the garden lining the walkway between the hall and the lodge. A quick look shot back over her right shoulder assured her that nobody had seemed to notice her, and so she hazarded a quick grab of her left hand between her legs, squeezing to stave off the spikes in pressure that were cropping up faster now. She was close, so close. Just focus on the next step. Focus on the next step, and don’t think about what you just saw in there…
A sharp jab of pain stabbed into her crotch, and she had to quickly bend over and stifle a gasp. Thoughts of Angie’s puddle and trail of pee drops to her honeymoon broom closet were tumbling in on her, faster than she could squelch them back. She imagined being trapped like Angie must’ve been, unable to break away to go pee, and then it suddenly being too late. In concert with this mental picture, her bladder spasmed again, and she had to briefly stop and double over further to keep in control, biting on her lip at the same time. The whole time, she could feel the one thought she was trying the hardest to keep at bay clawing its way slowly, unrelentingly, into the center of her consciousness. Sure, with her many accidents over her lifetime, she had experienced the full spectrum of emotions that were associated with peeing her pants: embarrassment, shame, fear, anger, frustration, panic. But one thing that she had never dreamed of being connected with an accident was the idea of it leading to sex.
She was walking again by now, but her hand stayed in her crotch. She didn’t trust her own nervous system at this point, with her mind still grappling with what had happened. Of course, could it have just been that Angie’d lost control briefly, Brian had tried to comfort her, and then one thing led to another? But…but then why had she evidently kept peeing her dress all the way to the broom closet? And why there, of all places? Why not head over to the family bathroom to get cleaned up? Lily furrowed her eyebrows again. It made no sense. Unless—unless she’d been right the first time, and wetting herself had in fact been a turn-on for Angie. Could people really be into that kind of thing?
Could…Jared?
It was too much for her. The turbulent musings in her stormy psyche were bearing down on her, like a kind of self-inflicted peer pressure, which was matched only by the very real pressure bearing down on her sphincter. Only ten feet from the lodge door, and her muscles released. She immediately yelped and doubled over again, clamping off the flow, but the seal had been broken. She’d leaked into her underwear, and she could feel the drops trickling down the inside of both legs.
Once satisfied that she had indeed regained mastery over her urinary system, she cautiously extracted her hand from where it had been wedged between the titanic grasp of her thighs. She grimaced upon seeing the obvious dark stain on the turquoise fabric. Maybe she could make herself scarce until it dried enough to not be visible, though of course that would mean having to step away from her duties, which was the whole reason she was in this mess in the first place. She could figure something out later, though. For now, get to a bathroom.
She mounted the three steps to the door with as much dignity as she could, considering she was still wearing her unwieldy high heels and still on the verge of bursting. One hand on the door handle, one twist, and—
—and nothing. It was locked. The door was locked.
Lily could feel her resolve crumbling out from underneath her. If this door was locked, then there was no way in. If there was no way in, then she couldn’t use the toilet there. And if she couldn’t use the toilet there, then she would use the toilet she was wearing. It didn’t matter if she didn’t want to. There was nothing she could do at this point.
No! There was still time—she didn’t have to have an accident—she didn’t. If she could just find somewhere secluded enough—
She bolted down from the threshold, only barely avoiding twisting her ankle. Already she could feel the warmth spreading out over her crotch again as the floodgates began to open. Not yet! I just need a few more seconds! Glancing around her with the same fervor of a hunted animal searching for a place to hide, her eyes landed on the hedges on either side of the wedding pavilion. She half-jogged, half-waddled over to them, her pee already dripping down past her knees. Even before she could be assured that she was completely behind it, she hiked up the hem of her dress on the other side of the hedge, dropped to a crouch, and let loose.
Her urine jetted out with the force of a fire hose, completely drenching her panties. She couldn’t help but breathe out a long, moaning sigh of relief as the wetness spread over her crotch and up between her butt cheeks. Thankfully she was wearing a thong. Originally it was to keep from showing any panty lines, but now it meant there shouldn’t be as much wetness to potentially soak through her dress.
She closed her eyes and relished the sweet, blissful respite from the fire in her groin. All the ache was now gloriously melting away, dissipating to the noise of the hiss of her pee as it exited and the thunderous splashing as she hollowed out a puddle in the dirt between her feet. Tiny misty droplets were splattering out from her pool and tinkling over her calves, but she didn’t care. She would clean herself up once she was done. As her stream continued unflagging past the ten-second mark, she shifted her position, her right foot sloshing in her ever-widening golden lake, which was by now draining in tiny tributaries off towards her right. She breathed out another sigh and readjusted her grip on her dress. At this rate, she would be here awhile.
Just then, though, a rustling behind her caught her attention, and she snapped her head around. The noise had been startling enough that she would have peed even harder, if that were even possible. Her panicked gaze picked up on a rapid movement darting out of sight as quickly as it could. Quickly, but not quickly enough for her not to see what it was, and her heart nearly stopped.
Two teenage boys, probably close to high school seniors, and both wearing somewhat shoddily assembled button-down shirts and ties, had been watching her from about thirty feet away, close to the tree line. As soon as Lily spotted them, they clumsily tried to book a hasty retreat behind the nearest trees. But they weren’t quite fast enough, and now Lily knew that they had been watching her go to the bathroom, getting a courtside view of her bethonged rear end as she peed out a veritable river. Her mouth dropped open in a gasp and she promptly straightened back up, yanking her dress down and clamping off the flow. The little vermin! How dare they do something like that, take advantage of her predicament to get a free titillation? Her cheeks were burning with anger and humiliation, almost as much as her crotch burned with the pain of shutting off the Niagara Falls down there. She watched, her stare fierce and penetrating, waiting for them to show their lecherous faces again so she could put some healthy fear into them. She certainly couldn’t go back to relieving herself, not here and not now—but she might not have a choice.
“Uh, Lily?”
The voice behind her made her jump and nearly start peeing again. Turning around once more, she felt her face go white as she was approached by none other than Jared himself, his face conveying a degree of uncertainty. Why did it have to be him? And why now?
As soon as she got her wits back, Lily brushed the hair out of her face and donned a saccharine smile. “Hey! Hey, yeah, hi, uh, hi, Jared. What’s, um, what’s up?” She cleared her throat and tried to sound and look professional, and not like a little toddler who’s just been caught after having an accident.
Jared completed his approach and now stood opposite her, on the other side of the hedge. Lily didn’t look down, but could only hope that the hedge was tall enough to hide her pee stain from earlier. He watched her for a few seconds, during which she had to fight to stand still. As her panties cooled around her private parts, the fire in her groin threatened to break free from its prison and rampage down her legs again. Finally, he spoke. “Brian and Angelica have just gotten back. It’s almost time for our speeches.” He cocked his head slightly in curiosity. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”
Lily swallowed, unable to think of a good excuse. At the same time, she could feel her stamina eroding and her panties gradually becoming warm again. She had to say something, something that would make sense and divert suspicion, but still buy her enough time to get to a toilet and finish peeing! Already she was starting to leak again, right across from the man she’d had a crush on for the last twenty-four hours.
Wait, what? A crush? That wasn’t what she was feeling…was it? She blinked and swallowed hard. But she couldn’t deny it: even now, face-to-face with him, staring up into his mysterious obsidian eyes, she knew that he could ask her to do just about anything and she would say yes. Her heart was fluttery and her knees felt weak; but that could also be due to her being on the brink of wetting her dress in front of him. And then she remembered how Angie could apparently wet herself and then immediately fall into Brian’s arms, and all of a sudden, she thought she understood.
She let out a nervous laugh and brushed her hair behind her ear again as the dam reopened and she began peeing into her thong again. In order to mask the unmistakable sound of her urine dribbling into the dirt, she drew her legs together to break its fall. It worked, but it also meant that now her legs were becoming coated with her liquid relief, streams of pee coursing down her inner thighs to split and bifurcate over her calves, her ankles, and her feet, with her freshly painted toenails. Her high heels were becoming totally wet, but there was nothing she could do about it. After clearing her throat, she answered with a voice that was shakier than intended, “Uh, okay. Um, thanks. I’ll, I’ll be right over there.” She hoped that he wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t really answered his question.
“Great. Yeah. I mean, no rush. Probably just a couple of minutes.” He gave a blasé, noncommittal grin and shoved his hands in his pockets. Then, to Lily’s horror, instead of leaving, he continued. “So, how long’ve you known Angelica?”
Lily, who was focusing all her energy on holding back just enough to keep her pee from turning into a geyser again, blinked for a second, trying to summon up her brainpower. “Uh, ever since high school. Probably close to six years now.” She had to actively keep herself straight and resist the urge to bend or crouch or grab herself. Still, she didn’t know how much longer she could limit the flow, and she couldn’t risk letting loose entirely and potentially getting her dress wet. Or rather, getting it wetter than it already was. Even now, she couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t getting caught in the spray from her crotch as her bladder emptied itself right in front of Jared, without him even knowing it.
Jared merely nodded. “That’s cool. Yeah, Brian and I have known each other basically our whole lives. I think we each assumed we’d be each other’s best man.”
Lily nodded back, racking her brain for a way out of this conversation. Even as her urine pooled around her feet, she could feel the full force of it wanting to explode out of her. She couldn’t hold back anymore. She needed to let go, let Nature have its way. She couldn’t hold it!
Jared, however, seemed to be searching for a way to keep the conversation going. Under any other circumstances, Lily would have relished the chance. But not now, not here! He casually pulled a hand out of his pocket to adjust his tie, and then asked, “So, what do you do? Are you in college now?”
Lily had to make her choice. She didn’t know if Jared would be able to see, didn’t know if the two peeping toms were still around, but she had to take that risk. The alternative was getting her dress visibly wet, to the point that everyone would know she’d peed herself, and that was clearly the worse option.
Taking a deep breath, her heart still hammering away in her eardrums, she discreetly dropped her hands to her sides and began delicately bunching up the hanging fabric in her fingers. She could feel the hemline of her dress creep upwards over her thighs, and she couldn’t tell if it was making the sound of her pee louder or if it was just the pressure in her ears that she was hearing. Licking her lips, she tried to give a response. “Um, um, yeah, yeah, I’m in college. Studying, uh…” She could feel the bottom of her skirt begin to slide over her butt cheeks, the cooler air giving them goosebumps. “Uh, public relations. I’m almost done with my second year.” Now the hem of her dress had completed its ascent, and so far Jared hadn’t broken eye contact, so that was good. She knew that if the two perverts were still watching, they would be getting the thrill of their lives as she stood there, ramrod-stiff, her mostly bare bottom on clear display.
“Hey, that’s pretty cool. Me personally, I’m just about to graduate. Engineering.”
“Oh, neat.” Lily knew she couldn’t hold back the flood any longer. Even now, her cheeks were busily clenching and unclenching, her thong strap disappearing between them every time her muscles tightened.
“Yeah.” He took a breath, then nodded toward the guests, who had been gradually drifting back into the main hall for the reception to continue. “Hey, wanna head back?”
It was too much for her. She could only manage an “um,” before all stamina abandoned her and the sluice gates were flung open. Her panties and shoes were already about as wet as they could be, and there were few places on her legs which her urine had not irrigated, but now that she was no longer holding back, the main effect was the increase in volume. Her hissing pee grew twice as loud as before, sounding even louder than that to her embarrassed sensibilities. She was peeing as hard as she could into her underwear, and now her stream began defying gravity and arcing out behind her as well. As her face reddened noticeably, she could only be glad that she had indeed pulled her dress up, since otherwise there would be a large dark spot over the seat. She could hear the fountain splattering all over the grass behind her and remembered what it was like wetting her jeans on the hayride years before. She could only hope that anything Jared heard he would chalk up to the actual fountain on the other side of the main hall.
As she neared five or so seconds of uninhibited urination, she knew she had to give some kind of an answer. “Um, I’ll be right over.” With some quick thinking, she came up with a white lie. “I, uh, I need to make a phone call.” She knew her eyes were wide with fear of discovery and her face was flushed with embarrassment, and she desperately hoped that he would buy her excuse.
To her great relief, it appeared to work. “All righty. See you back there.” He gave a little nod, turned away, and trudged back the way he came. Lily watched him depart without moving from her position, not wanting to risk it in case he suddenly thought of some reason to come back. She merely stood there, pee cascading out of her crotch like from a broken fire hydrant.
Once he was out of sight, she released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding and turned to look back over her shoulder. Sure enough, poorly concealed behind a tree trunk, she could see the sides of two adolescent heads peeking out, watching with intent fascination as she continued wetting on herself. At least neither one appeared to be recording her. She couldn’t even care anymore. Slowly lowering herself to the balls of her feet again, she spent another ten or so seconds releasing the remainder of the contents of her bladder into her thong. Even when she felt completely empty, she wasn’t satisfied until an active push confirmed that there was nothing left. All in all, she had probably peed for close to fifty seconds.
Delicately standing up again, she raised one leg, then the other, giving each a shake to get off as many drops as possible. She would also need to see about drying off her shoes as best as she could. For now, she gently lowered her dress back into its rightful place and smoothed it over with her hands. The show was over; everybody go home. Upon inspection, she was encouraged to see that the wet spot in the front of her dress from her earlier leak was already much lighter. Five minutes or so of dawdling with a fake phone call should be enough for nothing to be visible.
Stepping awkwardly to the side, she took turns removing each shoe and shaking it out, sending ripples through her three-foot-wide mud puddle. She would have to get her hands on some tissues or something to wipe down her legs, which were beginning to itch as her urine dried on them. Her heart rate was gradually returning to normal, and she breathed a heavy exhalation as her tension abated. All in all, it could have been much worse. Even if she had left behind a miniature lake, at least nobody had really seen it—especially Jared. Though she wasn’t quite sure she would feel totally comfortable looking him in the eye just yet.
Giving one last look at her puddle, Lily turned to glance at the trees again. There were no more signs of her onlookers, and that was just as well. At least now she could focus on subtly cleaning herself up before returning to the remainder of the reception.
~Aftermath~
A week of Angelica and Brian’s honeymoon had passed already, up in a cabin in the mountains of a national park two states away. The first day had been spent entirely in bed, intermittently kissing, fondling, making love, talking, and napping, only to then repeat the cycle. It wasn’t until the sun was going down that they had finally gotten themselves up to go out and find somewhere to eat.
Interestingly enough, in the days that had passed since their wedding, they had never actually brought up the events of their reception at all. After they had both finished in the janitor’s closet, Angelica had carefully removed her underwear and done a spot check of her gown while Brian saw to cleaning up the puddles on the floor. Once they had convinced themselves that nothing appeared out of the ordinary, they both bolstered their courage and invited everyone back in, pretending that nothing had happened. Despite the lack of evidence, Angelica had still felt that she was constantly blushing whenever she made eye contact with anyone. It hadn’t helped that Lily’s maid of honor toast had seemed oddly awkward as well.
Now, though, all of that was behind them. All the stress and buildup to their wedding was over, and they could relax. The mountain air was a wonderful boon in this regard.
Today, however, rather than spend time in the cabin, they had decided to go for a hike along the trails. Brian had snagged a map from a tourist center and spent a fair amount of time deciphering it, trying to find the best route for them to attempt. Eventually, they settled on a switchback trail that should take them right up to the nearest peak and afford them a breathtaking view of the valley on the other side. Armed with water bottles, snacks, and high spirits, they set out in the mid-morning, before it got too warm.
That was three hours ago. Now, having only reached the peak about thirty minutes beforehand, Angelica wondered if maybe they had pushed themselves a little too hard. She was tired and hungry, all their snacks having been eaten up between the two of them while they were still twenty minutes from the top. Her water bottle was nearly empty as well. At least the walk back was downhill, but it would still be at least another hour, optimistically.
And…she needed to pee.
She had started needing to go shortly after they’d left, but she felt too silly to bring it up, especially since she should have just gone before they set out in the first place. Of course, as they walked, it only increased more and more, and she tried to quiet her bladder’s signals by telling herself that they would reach the summit soon and then head back. She had no idea it was as far as it was.
Once they reached the top, they’d spent ten minutes or so taking in the landscape and catching their breath. It truly was beautiful, the fresh spring leaves beneath the cheery sunlight forming a vibrant verdant carpet in the vale below them. In any other case, she would have wanted to stay for much longer. Unfortunately, the pain in her abdomen was getting harder and harder to ignore, and so she tried to subtly—and then not-so-subtly—hint at wanting to head back to the cabin.
So, here they were now. At first, they held hands as they walked, but then it became too difficult to maintain over the bumpy terrain, and they gave it up. In their fatigue, neither one spoke much at all. It was just as well. It was getting increasingly difficult for Angelica to think of anything but her filling tank at this point, and she didn’t know how well she could maintain a conversation. Not to mention her stomach was growling even more now, and she needed a shower. This hike, which was supposed to have been a fun and romantic outing, was now just leaving her more and more irritable.
Another ten minutes of mindless trudging, and she had finished the last of her water. Just what I need now. It didn’t help that walking downhill made every foot land more heavily than normal on the hardened dirt, sending a shock through her body—and her bladder. She kept her head down, both to focus on where she stepped, and also to bite her lip and keep her sphincter tightly closed. One foot in front of the other. Step after jarring step.
Brian must have noticed something was off about the way she was carrying herself, because out of nowhere, he asked, “Are you okay, love?”
Angelica blinked and raised her head with a start, blushing slightly. “I, uh, yeah.” Then seeing that Brian’s face hadn’t changed, she added, “I just need to pee, is all.”
Brian’s expression flickered with a flash of amusement. “Yeah, me too. We should be back at the cabin in another forty-five minutes or so.” He put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed, then moved in and gave her a quick kiss.
As she pulled back, she tried to give a smile of reassurance to mask the annoyance—and unease—she felt inside. Forty-five minutes? That was not very soon. She heaved a sigh and responded with a limp “yeah…”
The look on Brian’s face shifted again, this time taking on an aspect of worry. His tone of voice reflected the change. “Do you have to go pretty badly?” When Angelica merely chewed her lip and didn’t answer, he continued, “Y’know, we’re all alone out here. We could just go behind a tree.”
Angelica bristled somewhat at this. She knew it was petulant of her, but she wasn’t a little kid, unable to control herself. Even despite her grumpiness, the thought did seem like a godsend. Nevertheless, stubbornness kept her from yielding. She could hold it. She would hold it. She couldn’t be desperate for a toilet in front of her newlywed husband just a week after having an accident in front of him. Squaring her shoulders, she mustered up more confidence than she felt and replied, “No, I’ll be fine. Let’s just keep going.”
A change passed over Brian’s countenance as she said this, one which she did not expect. A certain darkness flitted through his eyes, a kind of craving, like a predator hunting its prey. It looked, if she really thought about it, very much like the expression he had had when she’d peed herself during their reception. Even just remembering that day made her bladder tighten, and she needed to momentarily stop and clench tightly. She could wait until they got back. She’d be fine, of course she would be. Mainly, she wanted to prove to herself that she could make it, and also show Brian that not every time she needed a bathroom was an emergency.
Just as quickly as the expression appeared on Brian’s face, though, it vanished, leaving behind only his usual innocuously buoyant look. He seemed to think for a moment, then flashed a smile and said, “Okay, we can keep walking.”
The two of them resumed their trek in wordless monotony. Unfortunately, now that she’d refused Brian’s suggestion, Angelica felt more self-conscious about giving off any signs of desperation. It had been her idea, after all, to wait to relieve herself. She had to act as though she didn’t need a toilet as badly as she did—and that was getting harder and harder to do. Already the pee inside her was pushing against the waistband of her jeans like a stone growing inside her abdomen. She took a deep breath and told herself that maybe if things got really bad, she could always take Brian up on his offer. Still, she couldn’t see how to do that without looking foolish. If she changed her mind right away, it would be a sign that she really did have to go badly, in which case, why did she refuse the first time? And if she waited longer, well, they’d just be that much closer to the cabin, in which case, couldn’t she just make it all the way there? Either way, she would end up eating crow. She inwardly berated herself for being too proud to accept his offer. Now she would have to deal with it. Hopefully she would actually be okay until they got back.
Close to ten minutes passed, during which she couldn’t help but notice that Brian seemed to be watching her more closely than usual. Was he looking for signs of how badly she needed to go? Mildly irked, she said nothing, determined to endure. She didn’t want to have to admit her plight to him. By now, though, her urine was throbbing painfully inside her, and she wished she could stop to cross her legs.
Suddenly, though, Brian stopped, cleared his throat, and announced, “Well, I think I’m just going to go here.” He stepped slightly off the path and unzipped his pants. Turning his head back toward Angelica, he offered, “Feel free to join me.”
Internally, Angelica wanted to say yes. Brian was right: it was just the two of them, after all. And he was the one who initiated it—what reason could she have for turning it down? Nevertheless, her pride was still in the way, and she still felt crabby. She wanted not only to hold it until getting to the cabin, but to act as though it was easy. Giving her head an artificially nonchalant shake, she replied breezily, “No, thanks, I’m fine.” She then looked away, afraid that Brian’s stare would break down her façade.
He watched her for a few seconds, then shrugged as if to say “suit yourself.” Returning to his business, he pulled his built-in hose out and let loose with his spray. It arced out over the desultory groundcover and began splashing in it with a distinct splattering sound.
As soon as she heard the telltale dribbling, Angelica had to bite down on her lip again and squeeze her eyes shut. The clear sound of relief right next to her made it so much worse. Squeezing her thighs together, the option of swallowing her pride and just dropping her pants to join in screamed for attention in her head once more. Once more, she stifled it. She hadn’t come this far just to give up. Instead, under the pretense of disinterest, she turned away, her back now to Brian’s golden stream, trying to block it out.
But then, without warning, she felt a strange drumming on the seat of her pants. Before she even had time to react to what it could be, a peculiar warmth began to penetrate through to her skin, a hot, wet moistness across her rear end. Her hands immediately shot to her bottom in reaction, where they were instantaneously doused in a sizzling spray of liquid. At the same time, she noticed she couldn’t hear Brian’s dribbling anymore, and it clicked in her brain.
Brian was peeing...on her butt.
She gasped and lurched forward, trying to evade his sprinkler. As she did, his urine briefly splashed lower, over her thighs and calves. She let out a yelp and spun around, facing him where he stood, weapon still in hand, watering the path, and a look on impish mischief on his face. She could tell her face was red, both with anger and embarrassment. But her entire butt was now soaked, and before she could even say anything, her own bladder seized up, and she had to shove one hand between her legs. She stood there, mouth agape, one hand holding herself tightly in her crotch, the other still on her dampened derriere, and slightly bent over. She wanted to yell at him, but she was about to pee her pants, and she couldn’t get her voice to work. And Brian was still standing there, jauntily draining out the last of his own liquid load. As his urine splattered in the dirt at her feet, the sound of it, the wetness of her panties, and her own internal pressure merged into a tidal wave that was bigger than her ability to resist it.
As she stared at him in shock, Angelica let out a grunt and began wetting herself. Within seconds, the dark patch on her crotch expanded around the impotent dam of her hand and started extending down her thighs. She stood there, completely powerless to hold back, and felt her pee faucet flood her underwear, heating it all over her groin and now across her butt as well, finishing the job that Brian had started. She didn’t move or make any attempt to stop it. She merely stood there, rooted to the spot, as she emptied her bladder into her clothes and had yet another pee accident in front of Brian.
Her urine was streaming down her calves by now, and she could feel it reach the cuff of her jeans and begin pouring out, soaking her sock and pooling in the dirt around her shoe. Brian, meanwhile, only watched her loss of control with a look of lascivious delight, and she could feel anger bubbling up inside her. This was his doing. He had made her pee herself. She could have held it until they got back. She really could have! She wanted to be mad at him, but at the same time, the blissful relief was sending shockwaves of euphoria through her, and she let out a satisfied moan in spite of herself. It wasn’t fair. How could Brian simultaneously embarrass her and make her feel so good?
Her pee continued to flow uninhibited, trickling down the inside of both legs and creating a puddle around both feet which now merged into one larger one. The wetness on her pants was clearly visible from the front and back, and on her right leg it wrapped all the way around to meet on the outside of her calf also. Brian, meanwhile, had finished peeing, and merely stared with rapt fascination at her accident. His penis was still in his hand, and as her bladder squeezed out the last of its contents into her thoroughly drenched panties with a shudder, Angelica saw, to her amazement, that it had grown.
Brian had an erection from watching her wet her pants.
Even beyond the abundance of liquid already expelled into her underwear, Angelica could feel herself growing wet again. Dang it! Why did peeing herself in front of Brian turn her on so much? Especially now, when she wanted to be annoyed at him. Why was the humiliation of it making her both angry and horny all at once? Even now, a flush was creeping its way up into her face, and she felt that she needed to be touched, caressed, and fondled.
Not wanting to break just yet, she put her hands on her hips and fixed him with the sincerest glower she could muster. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” I don’t want to admit it, but I did, too. You’ve got some nerve, Brian Parrish. I’m not happy with you right now, but I need you inside me.
Brian turned slightly red, only now seeming to notice his own excitement. As he fumbled to stuff his magic wand back into his pants, he stammered, “Well, I mean…I guess I thought, since no one else is around…I thought…”
Angelica flipped her hair out of her eyes, still maintaining her attitude of affected nobility. “Well, I’m not walking the rest of the way in these wet clothes. So you’re just going to have to carry me.” Stepping out of her puddle, she pulled off her shoes and socks, squeezing each one out over the underbrush, then unbuttoned and peeled off her jeans, the wet fabric clinging to her skin and making it difficult to pull off. Finally, standing there with only her wet panties covering her lower half, she bent down and slid them off too, now naked below the waist. The cool air was making her shiver, and she could see Brian’s pants bulging out even more, but she pretended not to notice. Teasing him like this was part of her retribution for him making her pee herself.
Gathering her wet things under her arm, she strode around behind him and hopped up onto his back. After briefly adjusting position to where both of them were comfortable, Brian began dutifully trudging back, carrying his wet wife. Holding his hands under her naked thighs so close to her butt and knowing that her naked vagina was rubbing on his shirt would no doubt be driving him wild, but he couldn’t do anything about it until they got back to the cabin, and he’d probably be hot and sweaty and out of breath from carrying her all that way. She smiled deviously to herself. It was fun to tantalize him like this. Maybe if she needed to pee again along the way, she could just do it where she was, over the back of Brian’s shirt. Wouldn’t that make him crazy? As they continued, her hips bouncing against him, she mused that they couldn’t get back soon enough. The sex was bound to be especially good. |
The first thing Brooke noticed when she opened her eyes groggily after her 4 hour nap was her sister, Lana, standing over her. "I need help moving my dresser," she said.
She groaned. "Did you seriously wake me up for that?"
"You told me you would. I even let you sleep for a while. I said I wanted to reorganize my room by--"
"Okay, okay, I'm getting up."
The second thing she noticed was an urgent ache in her bladder. She badly needed to pee, and her tight belt only made her urge stronger.
"Come on!" Lana called impatiently.
"I'm coming!" Brooke said, rolling her eyes. She gave herself a quick squeeze before following her sister to her room.
Moving the dresser was no easy task, and it didn't make it easier that Brooke was swollen with piss. On one strenuous push, she felt a hot little spurt escape her peehole. Her hands shot to her crotch, then hurriedly back on the dresser. Her cheeks turned pink.
"You okay?" her sister asked.
"I gotta pee," she giggled.
"We're almost done, come on."
They both sighed in relief when they finally pushed it into place.
"Thanks," her sister said.
"Welcome," Brooke muttered as she hurried to the toilet. She was stepping in place as she locked the door and began to undo her belt. She pulled hard, trying to dig the metal piece out of the hole, but it wouldn't loosen enough. "How did I even get this on?" she groaned as she strained harder, the brand-new leather refusing to grant any elasticity. She tried to pull her pants down, but they were too tight. She was dying to piss. She grabbed and squeezed at herself while she marched in place, gathering the nerve to ask someone for help. She left the bathroom and back into her sisters room.
"Hey, uh..." she said quietly, careful not to let anyone else in the house hear. "My belt is stuck... I have to go to the bathroom really badly and I dont know what to do."
Lana giggled at her. "That's funny. I don't know what to do either."
She blinked. "I was going to ask you to help me get it off." Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, and she was shifting her weight from foot to foot.
"I have some scissors."
"These are new!"
"I'd help you find something, but I'm kind of busy with my room right now. Sorry, Brooke."
She left, embarrassed and still urgently needing to urinate. Her bladder felt like a water balloon, constricted around the taut middle. She ran into her room with both hands between her legs. She didn't want to cut the belt, but she needed to get it off somehow. She took out her phone and looked up "How to get a belt unstuck," then "How to get a leather belt unstuck," but couldn't find anything that worked.
She had to pee so bad she couldn't think. One hand stayed between her legs, squeezing every few seconds. She felt another quick spurt come out, causing her to grab her crotch with both hands. On the verge of pissing herself, she decided that she needed to cut the belt. She ran back to Lana's room.
"Can I use those scissors?" she asked, unable to keep her pee dance from being ridiculously obvious.
"They're somewhere in that pile of stuff," Lana said. Brooke's heart dropped. She didn't have much longer before her body emptied her bladder against her will, and she wasn't up to the challenge of sifting through a mountain of Lana's possessions.
"Nevermind!" she said, turning and hurriedly leaving. Brooke could tell she was about to lose it. She ran to the kitchen, found a sharp knife, and started cutting right next to the buckle. She was sweating from the strain of keeping herself contained. Tears began to form in her eyes from the screaming pain in her abdomen. The extreme amount of piss accumilated in her bladder sloshed around as she squirmed madly, doing her best not to hurt herself. Finally, the knife snapped through the belt. She threw it down and ran to the toilet, discarding the entire belt as well. She had already begun unbuttoning her pants when she turned the corner and saw that it was occupied. She felt like crying.
I'm not gonna make it to the other bathroom, Brooke thought, doubled over and trembling with desperation. A huge spurt of piss gushed out of her, then another, then another. Her pants began darkening down her thigh. She ran into her room, urine escaping from her peehole in an erratic stream. The pressure was too much, and she couldn't take it any longer. She sighed as she let go, pee bursting from her vagina and flooding her pants. She moaned, shuddering in relief. Her pee stream went on for almost two minutes before faltering to a stop.
Brooke immediately skinned off her ruined pants and underwear, dried her legs with dry parts of them, and changed her pants. She couldn't believe she'd pissed her pants. She went to the bathroom, which was no longer occupied, and took a shower.
She urinated even more while she was in there. Something about the experience of being that desperate was titilating to her, and she wanted to explore it further. After her shower, she got a glass of water and began filling herself with liquid, excited for her desperation to grow. |
It was an absolute pleasure to write this commission fanfic about a well-loved sitcom for @LifeIsStrange, who very graciously allowed me to post it on here!
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It had been the hottest Spring anyone could remember, that was for sure.
The classroom was a greenhouse beneath California’s baking mid-May sun, even as midday ticked into late afternoon. Barely a week ago, Moose had passed out with heatstroke in an Algebra test, and since then students were being reminded three or four times a day to please fill up their water bottles regularly and stay hydrated. That was easier said than done: there were only a few clean water taps in whole school, and staying hydrated was tricky when you were sweating enough to flood Lake Mathews. But the alternative, as Moose had testified, was a lot less pleasant, so the kids did their best to keep the water coming. Fortunately for Moose, you didn’t need to be an Algebra genius to work out that hundreds of hydrated teenagers didn’t fit into a handful of small bathrooms.
Not that there were many students left to share with, a fact Kelly Kapowski reminded herself of as she sat and tried not to melt- or worse. That was the light at the end of her tunnel. She may be stuck in after-hours detention for another five minutes, but once those minutes were up she would be free to waltz into the nearest bathroom and do her business, the rest of the school long gone. Kelly looked bitterly around the room at her three fellow miscreants. The hair-brained prank that had landed them in detention had been Tori’s idea- ironic that she had been the one who had gotten them caught. On either side of her sat Lisa Turtle and Jessie Spano, who had persuaded Kelly to go along with it in the first place. She should have known it was a bad idea, but Jessie knew how to bend Kelly’s arm and, after all, there was no way they would be found out- right? Of course, hindsight was a wonderful thing; they’d been caught red-handed and thrown in detention immediately, like prisoners in a cell. They hadn’t even had time to change out of their little green gym shorts. So she’d ended up there, blaming all of them secretly but blaming herself most of all, irritated at the sheer stupidity of it. Her mind alternated constantly between needing to drink water and needing to empty her bladder. She would get sick if she she didn’t drink, but drinking too much would have a far more embarrassing result.
Kelly could see that she was far from the only one in such a predicament. Tori sat with one leg folded up on the chair, her heel pressed tightly into her crotch through the thin nylon fabric of her shorts. Her serious face betrayed nothing, and yet the view from Kelly’s angle told a different story. In all her years, Kelly had never known a girl to sit like that unless she had to visit the ladies’ room. If Tori’s need was visible, Lisa’s was just plain obvious; she had one hand between her thighs and wore a worried expression. Her empty water bottle sat on the desk in front of her. Perhaps she was imagining things, but Kelly was sure she could see the tendons in Lisa’s wrist tensing and relaxing rhythmically as the girl massaged her private area. Jessie was being far more subtle. She looked relaxed, almost bored, on the surface. Her knees, on the other hand, were locked together like magnets. Maybe she just naturally sat that way… but no, Kelly knew better. She knew because she felt the same heavy urge to pee, increasingly pressing, increasingly concerning. Mr. Dewey wasn’t the strictest of teachers, but he wouldn’t let them take a second toilet break during the detention after they’d all used their allotted bathroom card so early on. They could only leave the room briefly, to refill their water bottles. So instead the four girls sat in religious silence, waiting for the moment they could leave.
Those five minutes felt longer than an opera to Kelly, but they did end eventually. The instant the door closed behind them, leaving Mr. Dewey alone in the noiseless sweatbox of a detention room, Tori spoke up.
“Thank God that’s over, I have to pee like a racehorse,” she said, hobbling slightly as she walked.
“Tell me about it!” Lisa was right behind her, rushing towards the girl’s bathroom down the hall, “I’ve had more water today than I would in most weeks, and it wants out”.
“I’m just glad there’s four stalls in there,” Tori stuck out a hand to push the bathroom door open. It didn’t budge, not even an inch. Kelly felt her heart miss a beat. Holding had been bearable when she’d believed relief was only down the corridor, but now things looked a lot more serious.
“Sorry, kids,” came a voice from behind, which Kelly recognised immediately as Mr. Tuttle’s, “the janitor’s already locked the bathrooms. School policy”. He kept walking, leaving the four young women to contemplate their fates.
“What are we gonna do?” Jessie asked, looking seriously worried now.
“There’s only one place nearby,” Kelly remembered, “the walk won’t be fun but it’s our best bet”.
“The Max?” Tori asked.
“The Max,” Kelly agreed.
———————————————————————————————————————————————
Jessie pushed through the door of The Max first, legs still clasped together in an iron grip. In the short time that they had been walking, the four girls could agree on one thing: they were desperate now. She took one look towards the bathroom and felt her heart sink.
“Oh man,” she said, turning back to the others, “you’re not going to like this”.
Tori, Kelly and Lisa slipped in past her, each of them overcome with identical feelings of dismay and despair. The line outside the women’s bathroom was five people long. None of them had ever seen anything quite like it.
“I can’t wait in that line,” Tori said almost immediately. She was bouncing up and down on the spot. “I’ll pee my pants if I stand still for that long”.
“So what are you going to do?” Lisa shot back. Tori thought it over for a second, her eyes focused hard.
“My house is a few blocks away… I can make it a few blocks”. Her words were confident, but Kelly thought her tone seemed uncertain.
“Well, good luck,” Lisa said, “but my place is too far. It’s here or nowhere for me”.
“Good luck to you too,” Tori said with something approaching sincerity. She disappeared out the door and down the street in her funny little desperate dance-walk.
“I’m going to take off too,” Jessie said after a second, squirming and writhing more than ever. The fabric of her green gym shorts slid over itself as her thighs shifted. She started heading towards the door.
“Jessie, your house is even further than mine,” Lisa said, “are you sure you can make it?”
Jessie looked at her with eyes that were almost regretful. It was the look of a woman who had already made up her mind.
“Who said anything about my house?” she said grimly, and followed Tori out the door. In her wake, Lisa turned to Kelly.
“I guess it’s just you and me, then. Who gets first in line?” she asked.
“Rock-paper-scissors?” Kelly suggested, dancing on the spot.
“That’s fair,” Lisa said reluctantly, sticking out her fist. She went with her favoured rock… and Kelly came out on top with a cool paper.
“We’d better get over there,” Kelly said, her victory not doing much to calm her nerves, “if that line gets any longer I might as well just give up and pee my pants right here”.
————————————————————————————————————————————————
Jessie couldn’t believe what she was about to do.
She cut away from The Max, crossed the road with only a half-hearted glance for cars and darted down the sidewalk determinedly. Years of walking this street had prepared her for this moment. Lisa had had her dead to rights- she wasn't going to make it home, not a chance. In fact (and this was so embarrassing that she knew she could never tell a soul) she had begun to lose control in The Max, seconds before she had rushed off. Her panties were decidedly damp.
Eventually, with the torturous sun beating down on her, Jessie reached the shady alleyway she'd been looking for. It was a narrow thing, the width almost entirely blocked by a dumpster that absolutely reeked. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and oh, if this wasn't a desperate time...
She squeezed past the dumpster, checking first that nobody was looking. On the other side Jessie realised she had no time to waste. It was coming out, ready or not. She hooked a thumb into either side of her deep emarald gym shorts, pulled them down with her panties in one quick motion and squatted- and not a second too soon. As her legs bent her bladder gave out, spurting hot pee onto the tarmac with frightening force. Her stream came out in manic squirts, like a rogue hosepipe. It drenched the grey ground, staining it a deep black. Against her dirty blonde hair, Jessie's cheeks burned from more than just the heat. Soon, once the sheer pleasure of sudden relief subsided, she would feel humiliated by what she'd done.
Soon, she told herself. But not just yet.
———————————————————————————————————————————————
Within a minute of leaving The Max, Tori knew she’d made a massive mistake. There was no chance whatsoever of holding in the litres of pee her bladder contained without simply exploding. She would have to change plan, and quickly. Frantic, Tori made herself think hard about who she knew that lived in this area. Who could she go to to have the best chance of being let in to use the toilet? The answer came quickly, but it wasn’t one she particularly wanted. Tori tried again to think of somewhere, anywhere else, but it was no use. She only had one option if she wanted to make it to the bathroom.
When she reluctantly knocked on the front door of Zack Morris' house, Tori found herself immensely, oddly relieved to see not Zack but his mom Melanie open it. She was wearing an apron and a smile.
"Tori, dear," she began kindly, "it's a surprise to see you here". It didn't take long, though, for Melanie to realise that Tori was in dire need of a toilet. The girl could barely stand still.
"Hello, Mrs. Morris," Tori said politely, "could I please use your bathroom?"
Instantly, Melanie stepped aside to let Tori through. "Upstairs, on your left," she called.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," Tori gasped as she jogged up the steps towards relief. She passed Zack, who must have recognised her voice, on the landing. Before he could open his mouth, she cut him off hastily.
"Can't talk- gotta pee!" she explained. For a long, dark while, Tori had genuinely believed that she wouldn't make it in time. But she had managed it. Somehow, barely, she had managed it. Her gym shorts were already around her ankles before she'd locked the bathroom door. The stream that hissed into the toilet bowl was closer to a rapids.
If she had been able to think straight through the throbs of relief, Tori might have realised that Zack could hear her peeing on the other side of the door.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
“I can’t believe we’re next,” Kelly groaned, “just typical- we finally get to the front of the line and I start leaking”.
“Tell me about it,” Lisa said, “but hey, at least you can’t tell from the front”.
“I can tell, though,” Kelly reminded her. “It helps that you’re just as desperate as me, to be honest”. Lisa nodded, her lips a thin red line.
“I get it. And it sounds like you’re in luck!” On the other side of the wall by which the two bursting girls stood, a muffled toilet flush could be heard. Sure enough, a few seconds later the door opened and an ageing woman stepped out. Kelly rushed in after her, taking in Lisa’s begs to be quick.
She only just got her shorts down in time. Her thong, though, was a lost cause. Kelly’s pee had started in earnest before she could get them off, so she resigned herself to that fate, sitting on the toilet and peeing through it while the near-orgasmic pleasure pulsed inside of her. Within seconds the fabric was soaked through. She spotted a trashcan in the corner through half-lidded eyes and resolved to leave her underwear in there, going home commando. That wouldn’t be so bad in Kelly’s eyes; she was getting new panties soon anyway and besides, she’d always liked the way her gym shorts felt against her bare crotch-
The door flew open and for a second Kelly was overcome with momentary terror. In her urgency she had forgotten to lock it altogether. That panic dissipated when she saw who it was: Lisa, sweat gleaming on her forehead, hand buried deep in her crotch.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hold it!” She announced, clearly too desperate to care who heard. Thinking on her feet, Kelly pointed at the trashcan.
“Pee in there!”
Obediently, and perhaps because she had no choice, Lisa yanked down her shorts and squatted over the plastic bucket. Kelly couldn’t help getting the perfect view of hot pee erupting from her friend. They pissed in tandem, together as their bodies lost control. Slyly, subconsciously, Kelly spread her legs slightly to make sure the view went both ways… if Lisa was so inclined as to look.
“Oh my God, this feels incredible,” Lisa mumbled, “I didn’t expect to be doing this today”.
“You can say that again,” Kelly replied as the pee continued to jet out of them in twin streams at an incredible pressure. “It’s worth it for a feeling like this, though”.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————— |
Here's the rest of the story (so far). This contains sexual content... so if that's not for you, feel free to skip it! I also have to absolutely stress that in this version of the SBtB universe, every character is over 18, including Nicki. This is the case with all of my stories.
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Lisa watched the bathroom door swing closed as she started to wipe her pussy with two sheets of paper. Kelly had finished pissing long before Lisa was even nearly done, so she’d peeled off her sodden panties, tossed them into the trashcan between Lisa’s spread legs and gone to wait outside for her friend. With the orgasmic feeling of relief finally starting to subside, Lisa came to her senses somewhat. She stood, pulled up her own panties (which had only sustained some minor damage) and picked up the trashcan. It was heavy and threatened to spill over, and Lisa felt weirdly like she was carrying a bomb. Slowly, carefully, she poured the pee down the sink, using her hand as a filter to stop anything larger falling out. But there was only one solid item inside: Kelly’s soaked underwear. They hadn’t landed in Lisa’s pool of pee. Instead they’d been caught on the edge and had rested there. Lisa didn’t know why, but she liked that. She reached out with one hand, intending to nudge the panties back into the bin… and instead felt her fingers close around the gusset. Something subconscious had made her pick them up.
A knock on the door made Lisa jump. It was Kelly’s voice.
“Hurry up Lis, I have to get home!”
With no time to think- and perhaps that was a good thing- Lisa pocketed the panties and left the room.
———————————————————————————————————————————————————
As she said her goodbyes to Kelly and headed home, something about the knowledge that the girl’s dirty underwear sat in her pocket made Lisa feel short of breath. Throughout the walk back to her place she kept slipping a sly hand into the pocket and feeling the fabric, alternately wet and warm and dry and cool, using her fingers to identify the places where Kelly’s pee had socked through and the spots which had been spared. And as she walked, another wetness formed in her own underwear.
Lisa masturbated. It wasn’t a secret, not really, not even if she and her friends never talked about it. They all masturbated, she was sure of it. It was a fact of life, really, wasn’t it? Everyone did it. But she wasn’t a regular masturbator, not by any stretch. She only did it a few times a month when she was in a particularly tingly mood, usually in bed, sometimes in the shower. For the most part it was like scratching an itch. Today, though, felt different. Today she was horny. Whether it was the feeling of relief, the sight of Kelly’s exposed pussy or the feel of her friend’s hot panties (and she suspected it was this last one), Lisa was desperate to get home and get off.
She practically burst through the front door into the home she knew was mercifully empty. Dark hair bouncing off her back, Lisa jogged up the stairs to her room, locked herself inside and finally fished the panties out of her pocket. She knew- had known all along, on some level- what she wanted to do. As soon as she was sure nobody could see her, she held Kelly’s ruined underwear up to her nose and inhaled deeply. The smell was incredible. It was tangy, unmistakably the scent of pee, with just a hint of what she called pussy-juice. Then, in the pure naughtiness of it all, another thought crossed Lisa’s mind. It was wrong- so wrong- but she had to do it. Holding the wet fabric close, she stuck out her tongue and licked the wet part.
It was too much for Lisa to handle for a second longer. Tasting the pee on her tongue, she jammed a hand down the front of her gym shorts and beneath her panties, searching for her pussy. She found it in a second, as warm and wet as she’d expected. There was enough wetness on her crotch that she felt as if she was the one who had pissed herself. Her fingers plunged inside of her, massaging and gathering as much slippery juice as she could muster, before pulling out again and dragging all the wetness to her clitoris. There, she got to work.
Usually Lisa liked to take it slow when she played with herself but today there was no time for such niceties. She simply had to cum soon. So, she drove at her pussy in hard, expertly-sized circles around the clit, feeling the tension build and build. She was getting close within seconds. Lisa breathed through her nose again, more deeply this time, taking in the smell once more. This time the scent of sex was stronger, but she knew most of that came from her own pussy. Right on the edge of orgasm, Lisa could feel that one more naughty move would push her to the edge. Taken over by an animalistic, almost slutty instinct, Lisa stuck out her tongue once again and licked along the entire length of Kelly’s panties.
She came to her orgasm all at once, having to make a conscious effort not to moan. Drawing in deep, raggedy breaths, leaning against her bedroom door like she was barricading the world out from her own naughtiness, she felt waves of pleasure take over her body. When they finally subsided she straightened up and started carrying out a plan she didn’t even realise she’d had. It wasn’t something that Lisa had thought about in advance. It was just something that some energy deep in her desperately wanted to do.
In general, Lisa would feel something akin to shame after an orgasm, especially when her stimulus was something so private. This time, though, she moved methodically, quickly. She needed more. Lisa went to her chest of drawers, opened the top one and took out two items. The first was a silky black pair of boxer shorts, the second a sky-blue satin set of jogging shorts. These were her naughty clothes, her I’m-a-bad-girl clothes. Her biggest secret, the one she could never tell anyone. Her masturbating clothes. She laid them out on her bed to wait for her, along with the thong. Next, leaving her already-worn shorts on the bedroom floor, she walked half-naked to the kitchen and poured a jug of water. She filled up a cup, drank it quickly and filled it again. Once it was drained, she carried the rest of the jug and the glass upstairs and set them on her dresser. Finally, she picked up the still-wet thong that had earlier that day belonged to her close friend and stepped into it, pulling it up tight around her waist. It felt damp on her pussy where Kelly hadn’t made it in time. Soon it would feel even damper.
Lisa took her time putting on the boxers and blue shorts, and yet she knew it wouldn’t take long for the water to have an effect. She poured herself a third cup of water, then a fourth, leaving gaps in-between to avoid over-hydration. As she waited, Lisa began to tease herself, rubbing her nipples through the thin fabric of the sweaty top she’d worn in gym class. They were rock hard before she’d even got her fingers there, purely from the thought of what was coming next. Her bladder was filling rapidly. And, what’s more, Lisa was acutely aware that her pussy was hot and wet once again.
After an hour, Lisa had her fifth glass of water. She knew from the heaviness in her bladder that it would be the last one she needed. It was time to start the fun. The anticipation was almost killing her, and she had struggled for too long not to touch herself. But now she could give in to temptation.
By the time her hand snaked back inside her panties and started to rub once again, there could be no denying that Lisa was desperate to take a leak. It wasn’t the first time she’d touched herself while desperate to pee- once, as an experiment, she’d done it in the shower. The result had been an explosion of cum and piss that had felt amazing, but left her eternally grateful that she hadn’t tried it in her bedroom. This time she wanted that explosion- no, she needed it, needed to feel what it would have been like if she had waited just a second longer before barging into the bathroom and pissing in that trashcan in front of Kelly. The relief had been immense, but even then a small part of her hand wondered how it might have felt if she’d done it in her gym shorts. Now she had the perfect chance to find out.
A low moan escaped Lisa’s lips as her soft fingertips found her clit once again. It was swollen, poking out, desperate to be touched. It was rare that the sexual part of Lisa’s body wasn’t satisfied with one round of wanking but today was one of those times. She still ached with the need to cum, to get that release before going back to her good-girl lifestyle and persuading everyone that she was sweet innocent. Lying flat on the bed, she picked up the pace, realising quickly that she would do well to cum before she wet herself. Lisa was desperate to pee and she was desperate to finish, and it was like the two urges were intertwined somehow, locked together and yet racing and battling to see which would overcome her control first. With her free hand she stroked the satin of the blue shorts, then kept moving upwards and found her breasts once again, kneading them like dough as the intensity climbed.
Lisa was used to touching herself lying in bed, but that raw instinctive monster that had driven her to steal the panties and put them on in the first place told her she needed to stand this time. When she pissed Kelly’s panties, not to mention her own clothes, she wanted to feel the full weight of gravity like she would have done in a real accident. She wanted to feel the hot piss flowing down her thighs and around her bare feet. And it was going to happen soon. Whether she liked it or not, as she stood there nearing orgasm her pee was on the edge of escape.
The first leak didn’t come as a surprise, but she was shocked by how it made her feel. When it happened, she had been standing on the rug in the centre of her room and using the base of her palm to roll over her clitoris. A hot jet of pee spurted from her urethra and sprayed unpermitted against her skin, sending an electric jolt of arousal down her spine and turning her toes warm. Masturbating had never felt so good to her before. Her hands were working the physical side of things, her bladder the mental side and her soft satin shorts played both roles. As she rubbed, she felt the second leak squirt out, drip down her fingers and onto her thighs. It nearly made her cum by itself.
In fact, the only thing holding back her orgasm was the heavy feeling in her bladder. Lisa couldn't wait any longer, not to cum nor to pee. Speeding up her frantic circles once again, she relented control of her pee and let the floodgates open. It erupted out of her, cascading through the material of her silk boxers, coating her thighs on the way to the floor. She came hard, this time totally unable to suppress a moan that became a shriek of pleasure, and still Lisa Turtle kept pissing. It drenched her downstairs region, even getting into her pubic hair, and dripped onto her toes. For half a minute, the powerful second orgasm wiped the ability to think of anything else from Lisa's mind, and still when it faded she was peeing.
Once the stream, mixed with juices, began at last to turn into a dribble, she started regaining her breath.
———————————————————————————————————————————
Tori Scott couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself into the same situation two days in a row. The heat hadn’t let up since yesterday’s detention, but the air was a little less humid and Mr. Belding had determined that gym classes were safe to continue. Still, though, the students were encouraged to drink plenty of cold water to avoid heatstroke or dehydration, and Tori had no choice but to comply, especially as the alternative was sweating to death in the gym. Inevitably, all that water had gotten her desperate for the toilet yet again.
They were playing basketball, but Tori felt more than a little like the only basketball she was getting much contact with was her bladder, which felt stretched and heavy beyond belief. The gym teachers were far from lenient with bathroom breaks and Tori hadn’t even bothered asking them if she could go. She knew perfectly well that it would be a ‘no’, so instead she held it in, jogging half-heartedly around the room and getting involved in the game only when she absolutely had to. Under the watchful eye of the teacher, she didn’t want to openly give up playing, but was feeling increasingly like too much movement would spell the end for her bursting bladder.
On her team were Kelly, Jessie and Lisa- they played four-a-side because of the class size, and the losing team always had to stay behind to pack up the equipment. The team selection was no coincidence, as Lisa had been given the job of picking the side on this particular day and had immediately gone for the three of them. It was the final class of the day, which gave Tori some cause for comfort, because at least relief wasn’t far away. She couldn’t end up in the same situation as yesterday. Having to relieve herself in the same house as Zack and his mom had been humiliating, even if she’d had no choice.
Tori forced her attention back to the game. They were losing, and badly. There was no chance they could pull it back, and Tori wished she could be more useful to her teammates, but the ocean sloshing around inside her wasn’t letting up. When the teacher finally blew the last whistle, as Tori’s desperation was beginning to peak, it was a welcome sound.
“Okay, good game, ladies,” he called, “Lisa’s team, stay here and pack up, you know the drill”. He left them to it, heading away to the offices while the winning team filtered out towards the locker room, dripping with sweat. Tori knew that they would not stick around to shower- nobody ever did when gym was the final class of the day, as going home was the far more appealing option. Instead, they’d surely be gone by the time Tori and her friends were done packing up.
They set about collecting bibs, pulling the folding hoops away from the indoor court and into the storage cupboards, gathering basketballs. With the pain in her bladder, this went from an easy job to a genuinely scary experience for Tori.
“Well, we sucked”. Lisa broke the silence.
“Sorry, girls,” Kelly said earnestly, “I had to pee so bad that entire game, I couldn’t concentrate on playing”. Tori looked a little closer at Kelly and realised that the girl was squirming, not dissimilar to how she had yesterday.
“Me too,” agreed Jessie, “I’ve drunk so much water today, every step felt like I was gonna pee my pants”.
“Yeah, I really have to go as well,” Lisa admitted.
“So do I, so let’s get this packed away so we can take a leak”. Tori wasn’t in the mood for waiting around- she didn’t have time.
“I don’t even know if I’m gonna make it that long,” Kelly said. Tori could hear the concern in her voice, and when she looked up her friend’s eyes were wide and panicked.
“Me neither, I think I’m actually even more desperate than I was yesterday,” said Jessie.
“Where did you pee yesterday?” There was suspicion in Tori’s voice as she continued packing up.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jessie replied, her cheeks burning.
“Tell us,” Tori pressed, sounding like a detective in an interrogation.
“Fine,” Jessie said in a small voice, “I knew I wasn’t gonna make it home so I went behind the dumpster near The Max”.
“Woah, and I thought my story was embarrassing,” Tori said with a laugh, “what about you, Lisa?”
“I went in the bathroom in The Max,” Lisa said. It was a truthful statement, although she neglected to mention that her pee had ended up in in a trashcan and she hoped Kelly wouldn’t bring that up. “Then I went home and… well, never mind”. By this point the four women had finally finished tidying the gym, and they headed for the locker room with a pregnant sense of anticipation.
Just as Tori had predicted, the changing room was totally empty by the time they got there. All that remained was four bags, one for each woman, containing their regular clothes, textbooks and stationary. There was also four plastic water bottles that had been filled to the brim at least once an hour all day. She burst in through the door, followed closely by Lisa, then Kelly. But when she turned to find out where Jessie had gotten to, what she saw shocked her.
Jessie was standing in the hall just outside the locker room with a hand buried so deep in her crotch that she could probably find her G-Spot. She seemed paralysed by desperation, unable to walk another step. The girl looked up at Tori with eyes like a rabbit in headlights. It was a look that plainly said I’m caught! I waited too long and now I can’t hold it.
Jolted into action by a combination of concern for her friend and her own pulsing urge to pee, Tori grabbed Jessie’s arm. The other two girls had cottoned on to what was happening and gathered behind Tori.
“Jessie, come on,” Lisa said soothingly, trying to hide her own desperation.
“No,” Jessie moaned, “if I move I’m gonna pee myself”. Tori could see that she meant it. It was time for some tough love.
“But if you stand still all day you’ll pee yourself anyway, right?” Tori tightened her grip on Jessie’s wrist and put on her most persuasive voice. “If you get in here and have an accident then it’s okay, only we’ll see”.
That point seemed to finally win Jessie over. Tori could see that the girl was on the verge of a serious flooding, but Jessie gathered her courage and took the final few steps into the room. Tori shut the door behind her third friend and moved the nearby trashcan to act as a barricade from anyone coming in, a common trick that the girls had learned over the years. Nobody else could come in, and that, at least, was a small mercy.
She turned away from the door, having only been looking at it for a few seconds, and realised that they had indeed been too late for Jessie. As she watched, a wet patch was starting to form in the front of Jessie’s blue gym shorts, growing rapidly. Pee saturated the girl’s clothes, dripping out the front and down her toned, smooth thighs. She stood there bow-legged, trying and failing to stem the flow. One hand flew to her crotch and grabbed her pussy, kneading it in a desperate last-gasp attempt to stop pissing herself, but the hot liquid simply ran between her fingers.
“Oh God, I can’t hold it!” came the cry that echoed around the locker room- but not from Jessie. While she stood there quietly losing control, it was Lisa who had just yelled out that she was bursting. Tori turned her head to Lisa and saw the dark-haired girl standing in a growing puddle of her own making, the flow running in rivulets down her bare legs.
“Shit, me too!” Kelly had made it almost all the way across the room towards the toilet stalls, but at the last hurdle she’d fallen badly. For some reason, watching Kelly wet herself was what sent Tori over the edge. Not Jessie, not Lisa, but Kelly. The sight of this beautiful woman shooting a jet of piss through her thin shorts and onto the floor took away the final strands of Tori’s control. She felt the front of her panties go wet, but she couldn’t stop it. Her eyes were firmly devoted to her three friends, who were all pissing in tandem, having simultaneous accidents in a golden, wet trio that she was now turning into a quartet.
“Tori, you as well?” Jessie asked.
“Uh-huh,” Tori mumbled, closing her eyes. The sheer relief was beyond description, filling her veins with pleasure and- was that? No, it couldn’t be… was that arousal she was feeling? Underneath the beautiful feeling of emptying her bladder into her clothes, was she getting horny?
Yes, yes she was. The realisation came as a real shock to Tori. She was getting turned on by wetting herself in sync with three of her closest friends. As subtly as possible- and realising nobody would notice- she brushed the back of one hand across her left breast. Even through her top and sports bra, she could feel her nipple growing rock hard. She didn’t know why she said what she said next. It just came out, blurted out in the way a small child might blurt out an insensitive question.
“Is anyone else getting turned on right now?” she asked, almost immediately regretting opening her trap. But that regret disappeared quickly when nobody reacted with disgust or laughter. Instead a short silence fell across the room. It was Lisa who broke it.
“…Yeah,” she confessed. “I don’t know why but I’m pretty sure I’m getting horny”.
“Honestly, guys?” Kelly agreed, “me too, which is so not what I expected”.
“I’m so glad you all said it first,” Jessie said with a small smile, “I think I’m wet in more ways than one, if you know what I mean”. That did raise a small laugh, but it was a nervous one, one charged with awkward energy.
“Maybe it was the relief of peeing after being so desperate?” Tori suggested, looking for some kind of rationale. She was undeniably horny now, and the admissions of the others had only made her more so, especially Jessie’s wetness comment.
“Maybe, or it might be because of the shared experience,” Lisa said tentatively.
“Whatever it is, I think I know what I’m going to do when I get home,” Jessie said, earning another gale of laughter.
“Me too”.
“And me”.
“Shame home is so far away,” Tori said sadly. “I hate having to wait when I’m in the mood”.
The other girls murmured their agreement, but what followed was the longest silence yet. It was the kind of silence where everyone in the room knows what the others are thinking, and everyone knows that everyone knows what they’re thinking as well. Tori certainly knew what she was thinking. All she needed was someone brave enough to break the ice. After twenty seconds or so, Lisa did.
“Aw, screw it,” she said… and plunged a hand beneath her soaked gym shorts and into her panties. It took her an instant to find the right spot, even amongst the wetness of her recently-erupted piss. When she tilted her head back, eyes half-lidded, mouth open, a sigh of relief escaped her lips and her wrist started working a circular motion that every girl in the room recognised.
“Lisa!” Kelly cried, shocked.
“I don’t care,” Lisa said honestly as she played with herself, “I’m horny, you’re all horny, I gotta cum. I’m just gonna do it,” she declared.
“Well fuck it, if you’re cumming I’m cumming,” Tori said, and joined Lisa in the dirty act of self-pleasure. There was one big difference in the way she did it- Tori’s left hand went instinctively to her right breast and massaged the flesh while her other hand found her clitoris.
“Oh man, why is this so hot?” Jessie slipped her fingers deftly under the waistband of her shorts and started rubbing. The first contact felt so good that she moaned out loud completely accidentally.
“Well, I don’t wanna be the only one not masturbating,” Kelly said, following the footsteps of her friends. After a short while she said, “Okay, I’ll admit it, this feels really good”.
Jessie moaned again. “Tell me about it,” she intoned, “I would kill to have my electric toothbrush here right now”.
“Not me,” Lisa said, her voice getting more and more erratic as she got closer to the peak of the mountain, “I’m a fingers-only kind of girl”.
“I’m definitely a fingers-only kind of girl,” Kelly agreed.
“You two must have never tried a dildo,” Tori smirked, “Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum”.
“Already?”
“Yeah, it’s happening so fast,” she moaned, short of breath, “I’m edging as long as I can, you three had better catch up”.
“I’m almost there,” Lisa announced.
“I’m so close,” Kelly added.
“Oh, fuck, me too” Jessie said, her hips starting to buck while the rubbing of her fingers reached fever pitch.
“I’m cumming, I can’t hold it anymore!” Tori was struggling to get the words out, but the pitch of her voice was evidence that she had indeed reached orgasm. The sound of Tori saying she was cumming set off a chain reaction- Kelly came right after Tori, hitching in waves of ecstasy, and then Jessie and Lisa, adding yet more juices to their pee-drenched gym shorts. Tori watched as each of them came, one, two, three, like fireworks in a night sky, finding each one almost impossibly arousing and sensual. She couldn’t remember ever cumming so fast, and rarely so hard.
Eventually, finally, the orgasms subsided. It was Lisa who was last to come back to reality, withdrawing her hand from her panties with an almost disappointed demeanour. For a minute nobody said anything. Then:
“Fuck me,” Tori whispered.
“That was so good,” Lisa said, smiling sweetly.
“I agree, but we can never tell anyone about this. We could get kicked out of the school”.
“Kelly’s right,” Jessie said, “it has to be our secret”.
“And next time let’s not do it in the school locker rooms?” Lisa suggested.
They laughed and nodded, and not one of them questioned that there would most definitely be a next time.
———————————————————————————————————————————————
Jessie showed up at Kelly’s house wearing a cute pair of shorts and a pink t-shirt. She was the last to arrive, just as darkness started to fall over California, which at this time of year meant it was near enough eight ‘o’ clock. Tori and Lisa had turned up within the last half an hour, both dressed for the hot weather and carrying their plastic water bottles. The plan was a simple one on the surface: a slumber party between the four of them. They could watch movies, order food, eat popcorn and talk. Kelly’s parents were more than happy to let her use their house for the sleepover. In fact, they were more than a little relieved that Kelly was having friends over, as they sometimes worried about her social life. What they could never have guessed was just what else the girls were planning on doing during the party, nor the true purpose of those plastic bottles. It wasn’t their problem, anyway; they were going away to visit family for the night, so Kelly and her friends could have some time to themselves.
Kelly greeted each of them with a hug and a smile before welcoming them into her front room. This spacious area would be the central hub of the party, because there were two couches for sleeping on and an inflated double air mattress lying in the centre of the carpet. There was the TV, windows with thick curtains and a coffee table for drinks. In short, it was the ideal place to hold a sleepover.
None of the girls had talked explicitly about what they might be experimenting with over the course of the night. They didn’t need to; it was simply there, hanging in the air unspoken, but all four women were well aware of the probabilities. It wasn’t a coincidence that they’d decided to have a rare slumber party just a few days after the highly sensual encounter in the locker room, after all. They hadn’t spoken about that since, but each had thought about it plenty in private. Though they hadn’t admitted the fact yet, all four had masturbated to the memory of those events at least once. Tonight they were keen to make new memories.
Jessie lay down her sleeping bag on one of the sofas, with Tori stretched out on the other. Lisa and Kelly had had no qualms with sharing the air mattress on the floor. The others stood to greet Jessie when she arrived, embracing her and beginning the conversation. They talked about what food they should get, what drinks they needed… and when, eventually, Lisa became the first to poke at their real intentions, nobody resisted.
“I wanna start drinking water soon,” she said casually, “just so… you know”.
“Yeah, good idea,” Kelly agreed, “if we’re gonna do… well, what we did the other day, we should start filling up”. She offered to take each bottle to the kitchen and fill them with cold water. While she was gone, Tori turned to Jessie and smirked.
“I sure am glad Kelly’s parents aren’t in,” she said, “I would hate to have them walk in on us”.
“Oh, me too. I don’t think they’d appreciate the disregard for their carpet”.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————
“I’m starting to feel it now,” said Lisa, rubbing her abdomen.
They had been sitting around, drinking water and watching bad TV, for half an hour. In that time nobody had mentioned what they were going to do later. They’d discussed almost anything but their exploits in the locker room earlier that week; from boys and teachers to movies and music, but Lisa’s casual confession signalled the shift in topic that they had all been eagerly awaiting.
“Me too,” Kelly agreed, “just a little twinge”.
“I don’t feel anything yet,” Tori complained. There was a twinge of sadness in her voice, but Lisa just laughed.
“You’d better start drinking faster, then,” she ordered, “I’m already at the point where I’d usually just get up and go to the bathroom so it sounds like you need to catch up”.
“Or maybe you need to slow down,” Jessie smirked. “Anyway, it won’t be long before we’re all desperate at this rate. All of last week, when we were drinking like six bottles a day, I was peeing like a leaky faucet”.
“Tell me about it!” exclaimed Kelly, “I lost count of how many times I almost pissed myself”.
“What about the time you actually did piss yourself?”
“Well, yeah, that too. But none of us made it that day,” she pointed out.
“I think I could’ve made it,” Kelly said quietly. Everyone looked at her curiously. Lisa asked her what she meant. “Well, I was only a few feet from the toilet,” she explained, “I probably could’ve made it. But when everyone else started wetting themselves I just kind of… gave up”.
For a few seconds there was a stunned silence. Then, Tori spoke up.
“You mean you peed your pants on purpose?”
“Uh, maybe. Kind of,” Kelly said. Then: “okay, yes, I did”.
“That’s hot,” Tori blurted out.
“How? Everyone was desperate to go and I just didn’t wanna be the only one who didn’t have an accident. It felt so good to let it out that I didn’t even care, honestly”. Kelly shifted uncomfortably in her seat; not for the first time, Lisa got the idea that her friend wasn’t telling them the whole truth.
“I can’t believe how bursting I was that day,” Jessie said, “I mean, I couldn’t even move. Tori saved my ass- Tori, are you touching yourself?”
At the mention of Tori’s name, all three other women had instinctively looked over at her and had caught her red-handed, one palm gently kneading her left breast in what she had clearly thought was a subtle way. When they looked around she dropped it, looking sheepish.
“Sorry,” she stammered, red in the face, “Kelly’s story was turning me on”. Absentmindedly, her hand rose back up towards her chest, but Jessie leaned over and slapped it away playfully.
“No way,” she ordered, “we save that for later”.
—————————————————————————————————————————
It was ten ‘o’ clock when things started to truly kick off. In the two hours since they’d arrived, Tori, Jessie and Kelly had drunk two water bottles each. Lisa had polished off three and a half. She wasn’t the biggest girl, Tori reflected, but she sure could drink. Pizza had been ordered, arrived and demolished in around ten minutes by the quartet of young women. They’d finished one movie and were picking another, but each had something far more pressing on their mind.
“Okay, I really have to pee now,” Kelly admitted. She was visibly squirming, one leg crossed over the other, holding her water bottle in one hand.
“Me too, I think my eyeballs are floating,” Tori said.
Jessie nodded in agreement. “You guys mind if I hold myself? It might help keep it in”. When nobody protested, she thanked them all and slipped a hand between her thighs, where it gripped her crotch firmly. The contact of her hand on her privates, even through the fabric of her clothes, felt nice. “That’s so much better, you should try it!”
Tori and Lisa followed her lead, but Kelly didn’t. “If I uncross my legs I think I’m gonna leak,” she explained.
“Oh, hun, I leaked about five minutes ago,” Tori said dismissively. She moved her hand from her pussy for a few seconds and suddenly they could see it clearly: a wet patch on her crotch around the size of a dime, a circle of indigo against the light blue leggings. Nobody understood how they hadn’t noticed it before.
“You kept that quiet!” Kelly gasped.
“I was so engrossed in the conversation, I barely noticed it come out,” Tori shrugged.
“Damn, girl, that makes me want to pee bad”.
“Me too”.
“Uh, guys? I’m not sure I can hold it much longer,” Lisa said, “you know that feeling when it’s right there waiting to come out?”
“I got that feeling right now,” agreed Tori. She was dancing in her seat.
“It feels kinda good though, doesn’t it?”
“Mmm, yeah. Wrong but good”.
Lisa sat up straight in her chair and for the first time her friends got a good look at her nipples, which were like hard little rocks poking through the fabric of her thin top.
“Screw it, you guys, I’m gonna masturbate. I’m too horny not to,” she said.
“Trust you to be the first to say it!” Kelly laughed.
“You should all join me,” she teased with a flirtatious smile. Jessie leaned over and fished something long and blue out of her bag. Quickly, Lisa recognised it as an electric toothbrush.
“Who wants a go with this baby?” Jessie asked, holding it up to them, “we’ll be passing it around like a cigarette once you realise how good it feels”.
Tori was unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down slightly for easier access. “I’ll try it later,” she promised.
“I’ll warn you all now,” Lisa said cautiously, “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna pee myself as soon as I cum”.
Tori laughed at this. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna pee myself long before then, I’m absolutely dying”.
“I feel like I’m gonna wet any second now,” groaned Jessie. She was doubled over slightly in her seat, hand reaching down her undies to hold herself more firmly. She nodded towards the toothbrush, which had been set on the armrest to her right. “Who wants first try?”
“Me, please,” Lisa said eagerly. She was the horniest of all of them, which was no easy feat. She snatched up the toothbrush as if it was the antidote to some kind of poison and found the button easily. To her it was like scratching some urgent itch. When she slipped the buzzing instrument below her waistband and closed her eyes, she purred softly with the instant gratification it provided. “Oh God, I’m gonna piss soon but I don’t care, it just feels so good”.
By now, all of the women had given up trying to restrain themselves. Tori was openly playing with her breasts, Jessie rolled her hips with increasing urgency to hump her hand and Kelly kept rubbing herself in consistent little circles. A symphony of moans built up between the quartet as they headed towards a crescendo, until-
“Oh, shit, I’m peeing!”
Tori leapt to her feet, hands still frozen on her boobs in shock, piss squirting from between her legs in manic spurts. It sprayed straight through her thin clothing, saturating the fabric and landing in scattered droplets on the carpet. A second leak followed closely behind, then a third… and then the dam burst. She soaked herself in front of her friends, totally unable to regain control.
“I couldn’t hold it, guys, I was so desperate!”
Ordinarily this would have mortified Tori, but tonight she was enjoying it far too much to care. At some point as she wet herself, Tori’s fingers went back to her breasts and continued to rub. Frustrated by the cotton barrier she stripped off her pyjama top and started going at it on her now-bare nipples, not caring who saw. The sight was too much to bear, and Lisa felt her orgasm erupt like a volcano.
“I’m cumming! Fuck, Tori!” She cried, convulsing with powerful waves. As she finished, she retrieved the toothbrush from her underwear and handed it to the waiting Jessie. Lisa’s orgasm continued long after Jessie had started vibrating on her own clitoris, and soon enough Lisa’s prediction came through. She felt the hot pee flowing against her thighs, pooling between her legs on the sofa, even though her pussy was too numb from the orgasm to feel it coming out. It kept going for what felt like over a minute.
“Me too!” Kelly hadn’t taken long to find her rhythm and the finish was inevitable. Feeling almost as if she was going to squirt, her hand turned hot and wet as she hit the climax. “Fuck, and I’m peeing too!”
She jumped up from her seat as Tori had done and the two stood side by side, one finishing an accident, the other just beginning theirs.
“I can’t hold it much longer!” Jessie cried out. Lisa, finally recovered from her orgasm, reached over and pressed down cheekily on Jessie’s swollen bladder. That was the final straw. Jessie lost control completely just as Tori came, having barely touched her cunt at all. She alerted them all to this with the loudest groan of the night, a high-pitched shriek that could only signal an orgasm. Every woman in the room turned and gazed in amazement at Tori’s noisy ecstasy. Jessie couldn’t take her eyes off the cumming Tori even while she flooded her seat.
“Jessie, you need to cum too,” encouraged Tori, grinning in the comedown from her finish. Jessie smiled back, loving the feeling of wetting herself.
“Yeah, hand me that toothbrush,” she said, immediately shoving it down her waistband and turning it on. With all eyes on her, it took only a few seconds for Jessie to hit her limit, and she came screaming as her friends watched in arousal.
When she had finished, the room smelling strongly of pee and sweat, the four girls sat in a happy silence for a minute. Then, once they had their breaths back, Kelly got to her feet and picked up her water bottle.
“Okay, girls, hand me those bottles,” she said, “we need to get ready for round two”.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
“It’s probably a good time to think about getting changed,” Kelly pointed out when she returned, “I don’t wanna stay in these wet clothes too long and it’s getting pretty late”. It had been around forty minutes since she had returned the plastic bottles to their owners, each now filled to the brim with cold water.
Lisa picked up her bagpack from the floor next to her feet and dumped it on her lap. She unzipped it and fished out a cute set of silky purple pyjamas. Kelly bent over to retrieve her own pair from where she’d left them earlier that day in preparation, although hers were sky blue rather than violet. Soon Tori had started changing into some red pyjamas and Jessie a bubblegum pink set.
None of the girls felt particularly squeamish about getting changed in front of one another- after all, with all they had seen and done together over the last few days nudity was relatively tame, and they’d seen it all before in the locker room anyway. However, Lisa reflected as they started to strip off their wet things, there was something very different about looking at them all now. She’d never paid much attention to the way Kelly’s breasts bounced, or the chestnut patch of hair above Tori’s slit. Taking it all in now made her feel aroused again so soon. They were gorgeous women, she realised then. She also realised then that she couldn’t take off her shorts in front of them for one very serious reason.
Instead she put it off, taking her time in peeling off her top. The hem of her t-shirt had not remained dry during the soaking she had given her underwear… well, Kelly’s underwear. She left the t-shirt on the pile of clothes that needed washing and drying overnight, which by then included almost everything the other girls had been wearing. Lisa was the last of the four to reach behind her back and unhook her bra, exposing her pert boobs. She’d never exactly been boastful about her breasts, but she liked them well enough. They weren’t massive- but they got the job done. More than a handful’s wasted, Lisa thought. Although there was certainly more than a handful on offer on Kelly’s chest, and Jessie’s too, and she certainly wouldn’t mind the waste on those babies.
Lisa was aware that her thoughts were growing increasingly homoerotic, but she didn’t care as long as it kept turning her on. Sadly, though, she had to banish those images from her mind when she realised the other three were staring at her. All of them, at that point, were naked. All except Lisa. She looked around at three pairs of stiff little nipples, three vastly different pussies… it was like reading the menu at a restaurant where she wanted to eat everything. Where are these thoughts coming from? she asked herself accusingly.
“Are you gonna take off the shorts?” Tori asked pointedly.
“Uh…” Lisa had no idea what to say, “maybe in a bit”.
“You can’t stay in those, you’ll get a rash,” said Jessie, “just strip them off. C’mon, Lisa, we’ve all seen it before”. Lisa couldn’t see anyway out of the situation she’d engineered.
“Okay, fine, but you have to promise me something first”.
“What?”
“You have to promise me you won’t judge me, or laugh, or think I’m creepy”. She spoke mainly to Kelly as she said this, but wanted the others to agree too. Quickly, they all promised. Lisa thought dryly that they had no idea what they were agreeing to. They probably thought she’d got a piercing or a butt tattoo.
Slowly, wishing she could do it anywhere else, she edged her shorts down her thighs until they were around her knees. Jessie and Tori had no idea what they were supposed to be looking at, but Kelly was staring as if she’d seen a ghost.
“That’s my thong,” she said bluntly, unable to believe what she was saying.
“Yeah”
“You’re wearing my thong? The one I threw out ‘cause I peed in them after detention?”
“Yeah. Sorry,” Lisa said awkwardly, before rushing to explain. “After you threw them out I didn’t want to just leave them there for someone else to deal with, so I took them home, and I ended up trying it on, and it fit”.
“Wait,” Tori frowned, “you both pissed in that thong?”
Lisa nodded glumly. She was sure that Kelly was taking this badly. But what her friend did next was the last thing Lisa had expected. The other girl stepped closer, reached out one hand and stroked the crotch of the thong with a single shaking finger. Lisa shuddered.
“Careful, Kelly, you just hit my clit,” she warned.
“Maybe I wanted to,” Kelly said evenly.
“You’re not mad?”
Kelly gave her a small, sheepish smile. “No,” she said, “I’m not mad. I actually think it’s… really hot”.
Lisa felt her slit grow even wetter, and not with pee. “You do?”
Kelly moved closer. “Yeah, and I don’t know why. It just turns me on like crazy,” she turned back to the others, “does that make me weird?”
Jessie shook her head; Tori concurred.
“It doesn’t make you weird,” she said, “but I do think that thong needs to come off now, Lisa, the rest of us are all naked”.
“Yeah, and I already really have to pee again,” Jessie added.
“Me too,” this was Kelly, “I think my bladder’s still tired out from last time”.
“Guys?” Lisa suggested, hardly believing the words were coming out of her mouth, “what if we… take things up a notch?”
The other three girls shot her looks that could’ve been confusion, fear or eagerness- it was hard to tell.
“Up a notch? How so?”
“Well… we’ve already seen each other pee ourselves and masturbate. What if we took it past watching each other and started experimenting together?”
Kelly was wide-eyed. Her mind was concerned, Lisa knew, but her body was horny, and horny ruled in the end.
“Let’s do it,” she said swiftly.
————————————————————————————————————————————————
“Okay,” Lisa said, her confidence returning now the others had responded enthusiastically, “we need to talk this through- we need boundaries, so we know what we can and can’t do”.
“I don’t think there’s time for that, Lis,” Jessie said. She was bouncing up and down frantically, legs jiggling while she moved, “I’m really desperate. I can’t hold it in much longer”.
“Nor me,” Tori added, “it’s gone from a five to a nine out of ten real fast”. The dark-haired girl had a hand buried in her unclothed crotch. Lisa found herself imagining that one of Tori’s fingers was inside her. Lisa turned to Kelly, who looked like she was running on adrenaline.
“They’re right, Lisa,” Kelly said, “I don’t have time for a negotiation. I’m dying to pee”.
Lisa found herself knocked a touch off-course at this, but she quickly recovered and changed tack. “Right, okay,” she said, “in that case we’ll just go with the flow?”
“Don’t say flow!” Jessie pleaded, her knees knocked together, “but yeah, I’m happy with that”.
Tori and Kelly rapidly nodded their consent.
“So how do we start?” Jessie asked earnestly. Lisa froze up a little. They were looking, she realised, to her for some kind of inspiration. They saw her as the one who knew what she was doing in this situation. The only thing she could think to do was let her body make the decisions for her. She took a nervous step towards Kelly, so they were so close that she could smell Kelly’s fruity breath. Kelly must’ve known what Lisa was thinking, understood that she was hesitant, because she smiled a small smile and gave a reassuring nod. That was all the encouragement Lisa needed.
She put her hands on Kelly’s naked hips and kissed her. Their eyes closed as lips locked, hands started to slide across smooth skin, and Lisa succeeded in eliciting a moan from her friend. Tori and Jessie stood and watched, growing increasingly horny at the sight of it in spite of their own desperation. Kelly seized one of Lisa’s wrists and forcefully planted her hand on Kelly’s left breast, where it automatically began to rub and caress. Horny beyond belief by now, Lisa walked forward as they made out, backing Kelly up against the couch until the two fell onto it, Kelly lying on her back and Lisa on top, sitting on the dark-haired girl’s midriff, kissing her still.
Kelly opened her eyes briefly to steal a glimpse of Lisa’s boobs, which were dangling tantalisingly close to her own. She could see the dark triangle of Lisa’s cunt between her legs- a target. Stretching her arm, she could just about reach far enough to cross a new boundary. Kelly found the swollen little shape of Lisa’s clit with ease and started to rub in circles. On top, the girl moaned loudly into Kelly’s mouth.
“You know that feels good, Kelly,” she purred, “but you have to stop, or I’ll pee on you”.
Kelly did not stop. She was far too caught up in the erotic chaos of the evening to stop. Instead, she started pressing harder, drawing firmer shapes around Lisa’s pussy. She almost squealed in surprise.
“Kelly, I’m serious, I’m gonna pee myself on you!” she cried out. Kelly simply kissed her once more, pulled her ear close and whispered two simple words.
“Do it,” she commanded.
Lisa let go. The first Kelly knew about it was when she felt hot liquid on her belly, spreading across the flat surface of her stomach and flowing down her sides. It was like getting into a warm bath in reverse.
“Oh, that feels so good,” Lisa sighed happily, senses alight with the intense pleasure of relief. Kelly was loving it too; she could feel her friend’s piss trickling through her own pubic hair, down the labia around her slit and pooling around her butt. Some forked out into little rivers that tickled the bottom of her breasts. Most ended up slipping off her and under her back, into the crevice in the couch that her body made.
Kelly stole a glance to her right and caught a glimpse of Jessie and Tori, who had become similarly engaged. Kelly's breath caught in her throat at the sight of it; even as pee continued to soak her she was captivated by her two other friends. Tori was sitting on the armchair in the corner with Jessie kneeling on her lap, sucking gently at the girl's left nipple. It was like a scene from a lesbian porn film- except for one detail. There was pee gathering around Tori's legs and bare ass, although she had no idea which one had had the accident. Perhaps it was both. Just one look made Kelly want to cum.
"Okay, I'm done," Lisa finally said with a cheeky grin, "do you have to pee?"
"Like a racehorse," Kelly confirmed, taking charge of the situation. She grabbed Lisa's arms and rolled them both roughly so that they fell onto the carpeted floor with a bump, with Kelly now on top. The noise made Tori and Lisa look over, but only for a second- they were so engrossed that once they knew the others were okay they went straight back to the breastplay.
"Okay, let it rip, baby!" Lisa cried, eagerly awaiting her reward. Pee was dripping steadily off Kelly's chest and onto Lisa's. As soon as Lisa gave that permission, Kelly erupted, and Lisa got a taste of what it was like to be drenched in someone else's pee for the first time in her life. It sprayed from her pussy and out almost as far as Lisa's face, covering almost every inch of her torso with ferocity. Kelly snapped her head back and moaned aloud.
"Oh my God, that feels so good!"
"Keep going, Kelly!"
"Oh, Tori," Jessie moaned from across the room, "don't stop doing that!"
Lisa looked over at them and her jaw dropped open. Tori was kneeling on the floor now, her head buried in Jessie's crotch. All Lisa could see was the back of Tori's head, but Jessie's blissful expression told her quite plainly what was happening. It was the look of a girl who was being eaten out, no doubt.
The door opened.
Every girl in the room froze, hearts in their mouths. They'd been caught red handed. Tori was first to scramble away, as if she might be able to convince the intruder that nothing had been going on, leaving Jessie's sopping wet pussy exposed. Kelly climbed off of Lisa but was unable to stop peeing, and the stream kept hissing lazily onto the carpet as she stood and stared at the person who had just entered the room.
In a weird way, even though it was still uncomfortable, all four girls were immensely relieved to see Kelly's sister Nicki standing in the doorway. She was completely naked, from head to toe, short hair the only thing covering any part of her otherwise completely exposed body.
"Mind if I join in?" she said timidly, breaking the silence.
"Nicki, I have so many questions," Kelly said, "why are you here, why are you naked and how much did you see?"
"Sarah got sick, so the party got kicked out," she explained, "I'm naked because I want to get in on this action. Oh, and how much did I see? Pretty much everything," she said, nodding in the direction of the window. "So... pee, huh?"
Kelly sighed. "Yeah," she admitted, "but it's only a recent thing. And this is the first time it's turned sexual, so don't get any ideas".
"You all like getting peed on?"
Kelly paused, then nodded guiltily. "I'd never done it before, but yeah, it felt good. I can't speak for the others".
"I liked it," Lisa confessed quickly.
"Me too," said Tori, "I didn't think I would but it felt so nice". Jessie looked down at the ground but murmured her agreement.
"So yeah, Nicki," Kelly said eventually, "I guess we all like getting peed on".
"That's good," Nicki said slyly.
"Why?"
"Because I gotta go so frickin' bad," she said, advancing towards the others. "Who wants to volunteer?"
Lisa stepped forward, dripping with Kelly's salty, still-warm pee. "I will," she said, "but you can't pee yet".
"Why not?"
"You have to hold it until you burst," Lisa explained matter-of-factly, "that's when it feels the best".
"Fine," Nicki said impatiently, "just get on the sofa like Kelly was earlier. God, I gotta take a leak".
"Why are you doing this again?" Kelly asked sceptically.
"Because I'm horny and bored and desperate to pee," Nicki said simply. Lisa obediently took her place on the couch and Nicki straddled her. As soon as Nicki sat, Lisa felt a hot spray on her chest. It felt sensational. "Shit, sorry, just leaked," Nicki muttered, "now what?"
Instead of speaking a response, Lisa simply pulled Nicki down towards her and started to kiss the other woman. The other three watched, fascinated, as Lisa kneaded and played with her breasts, turning each nipple hard almost instantly.
"Mmm... shit, I can't hold it much longer!" she wailed, clearly enjoying what Lisa was doing despite her desperation. As soon as Lisa took one of Nicki's breasts in her mouth, it was over. She burst like a water balloon, golden fluid seeping out of her quickly and washing in a heavy spray across Lisa's naked body.
Kelly didn't want to just stand there and watch her sister getting pleasured, not because of any moral problems but because she felt that it was time that could be better spent elsewhere. She turned to Tori and Jessie and smiled deviously.
"You two ladies wanna pick up where you left off?" she asked. They both nodded eagerly, still dripping with pee and juices of arousal. "Mind if I join you?"
Tori grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the second sofa. "Honey, the more the merrier".
Edited September 20, 2020 by Noot
(see edit history) |
I read an article about a Chinese teacher making late students write an extremely complicated character 1000 times as punishment. Apparently he let a female student go after she begged for mercy after 200 times...but what if he didn't, and she really had to pee? Wet and messy knickers would be the inevitable result!
WARNING: This is pretty hardcore humiliation, though there is some comfort at the end of it.
Zhang Xiaodong put a lot of effort into preparing his lectures, and he did not like it when his students were late and missed them. In particular, Li Xiuying irked him. She was by far his sexiest student, with a beautiful face and flowing black hair, and she turned up today in a sexy little black skirt...10 minutes late.
"I'm sorry, professor, but my boyfriend -" she tried to explain.
"I don't care about your fucking boyfriend," he said far from professionally. "Unless you're physically unable to come here, you will turn up on time. And I have just the lesson to teach you about punctuality."
Li Xiuying looked in absolute shock that her literate professor would use such language. He was rather handsome, she noted, but she'd never had any kind of feelings for him. It just wouldn't be right. She quaked in fear of what was to come. She knew she wouldn't be sexually assaulted, but...what else might happen?
"Do you know this character?" he said, pointing to the character describing a noodle dish. "58 strokes."
"...no, I don't," said Li Xiuying, holding back her tears of fear to keep her dignity. "What is it?"
"It's for a dish called biangbiang noodles," he said. "It's an excellent dish, you should try it sometime. But what you have to do first is write that character. 1000 times."
"But...but...you can't make me do that," said Li Xiuying. "I'll be here for hours!"
"Oh, yes I can," he said. "Now get down to work. The faster you do it the sooner you'll be gone."
"May I make one request?" she asked. "Could I have some black coffee to keep me alert?"
"You may," he said, smirking. As a big fan of desperation, he was already imagining what would happen once it had worked through her system, and she was going to be here for a while... As she walked over to the coffee machine and made herself a big cup, he gazed at her legs and imagined what she was wearing under her skirt. Whatever knickers she had on, those were probably going to get wet...
Li Xiuying sighed and got down to work, carefully writing the character. Even once was an effort, and she had to do it 999 more times. That smug cunt was sitting there smirking at her too. How could such a gorgeous looking man behave like this? She cursed quietly at him under her breath as she worked. 2 characters, 3, 4, 5...how was she ever going to finish?
But she carried on, and slowly the page began to fill with more characters. Her soft hand was getting tired already, and she was only 100 characters in. Worse still, her coffee had started to reach her bladder, and she had to pee. With 900 characters left. This was going to be agony.
By the time she reached 200 characters, she was in unbearable pain. Her bladder was swelling under her skirt and she was shifting in her seat trying to distract herself from it. She couldn't imagine writing the next 800 characters without...without...the very thought of disgracing herself made her shudder. He'd mention it to the whole class, she knew it, and then she'd be utterly humiliated forever. It was partly her fault too, why did she drink that coffee? Maybe she could appeal to his sense of mercy...
"Teacher, I...really have to pee..." she said. "Please let me stop, I really promise I won't be late again, just let me pee, please..."
She clutched her bladder under the desk with one hand to demonstrate.
"No," he said. "I said you have to write 1000 characters and you will write 1000 characters. That's the deal."
"But I have to pee now," she said. "I can't hold it for hours more."
"So you're going to wet your skirt?" he asked.
"Well...if you don't let me go..." she blushed. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she desperately tried not to cry.
"Well, you'll have to shower when you get home then," he said. "Carry on."
Li Xiuying just couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was going to be forced to wet herself in her seat. There was no way she could hold it for the hours it would take to write 800 more characters. Maybe it would be better to just wee and get it over with. But she couldn't let go, she couldn't...the humiliation...
Her body gave her no choice. By the time she reached 300 characters, her bladder finally began to leak. Spurts of pee moistened her knickers, and tempted her to let out more. She whimpered from the pain. Fortunately her black skirt was concealing her accident, but she would soon have to let go. Her sphincter was absolutely exhausted. As she wrote the 400th character, a warm spurt soaked her knickers and dripped onto the back of her skirt. She was losing control. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she squirmed to avoid a total accident, but it was too late. Spurt after spurt burst through her knickers, flowing out of her skirt and spilling off the chair. She moaned in shameful relief as the pain drained from her, then bawled in humiliation.
"Keep on working," said Zhang Xiaodong, reclining in his chair. "You can shower when you leave."
Li Xiuying was sobbing in her piss puddle and not even halfway finished. She would be there for hours and hours and hours, sitting in her wee with her hands aching. She had never been this utterly degraded in her whole life. But she had to go on. She kept on writing more and more characters. Her wet skirt clung to her legs and her knickers itched, but it was easier to focus now she'd gone. She wrote 500 characters, 600, 700. The end was in sight at last, but now she needed to wee again. This time there was no point fighting it with her exhausted muscles. She simply let go and let the wee flow through her knickers. She couldn't possibly get more humiliated than this. 800 characters...only 200 left...she'd be getting raw skin from sitting in her wee so long next. How could it possibly get worse?
Her stomach gurgled as she felt the urge to poo. It got worse.
"Teacher...I...need to use the toilet again, but the other kind...you know...please...don't make me shit myself, please..." she begged.
"If you finish your 1000 characters, I won't make you shit yourself," he said.
"But I've got 200 characters left, and I'm desperate," she said. "I can't wait..."
"Well, too bad," he said. "Hopefully you won't have to sit in your poo too long."
She fumed. How could anyone be this cruel? She clenched her bottom and strained as hard as she could not to poo while she continued to write the characters. 900. Just 100 more to go, and she still hadn't pooed yet. Maybe she could make it. Maybe...a fart slipped out. She blushed and strained to try to stop her bowels from relaxing. She could just preserve that last bit of dignity...maybe...she farted again. Only 80 characters left...yes, she could do it...70...60...50...
Her guts ached and almost forced her to poo. Using all the strength she had left, she barely held it back. 40 characters left...30...20...10... Her legs shook as she desperately tried not to poo with all her strength. She'd just make it...just...
As her quivering hand finally wrote the last character, she gasped in relief.
"I'm done," she said, sitting back in her chair. A loud, wet fart burst from her bottom and she squealed in shock as she realised she had accidentally relaxed too much and let go, but it was too late. Her bowels opened and she filled her sodden knickers with poo, bursting into tears again.
Zhang Xiaodong strolled over and waved his hand in front of his nose. "So you couldn't hold your poo after all," he said. "Shame. Anyway, excellent work. I hope you'll learn to arrive on time in future."
"Yes..." she said, staggering to her feet. Poo dropped out of the bottom of her skirt. Zhang Xiaodong chuckled as she walked out of the door in her laden knickers with filth streaked down her legs. And, best of all, it was all on film.
Li Xiuying's boyfriend Wang Wei was waiting for her outside. He looked in horror at his bedraggled, filthy girlfriend's tear marked face.
"What did that cunt do to you?" he asked. "Did he rape you?"
"No...he didn't touch me..." she said. "He just made me write complicated characters over and over again...with no toilet break...I tried so hard, but I couldn't hold it..."
Wang Wei clutched his girlfriend tight. "That's so awful," he said. "I'll file a report to authorities. There's no way this is allowed, it's torture."
While he was a little biased, reducing her girlfriend to a broken, sobbing mess was a little excessive for being 10 minutes late to class.
"In the meantime, how about we have a shower together?" he suggested.
"Oh...yes..." said Li Xiuying, smiling for the first time in hours. "That would be fun..."
The shower in Wang Wei and Li Xiuying's room took a little while to run hot, so while it did, he decided to inspect his girlfriend's knickers. He lifted the back of her skirt and looked at her once white knickers, now bulging with shit. While he hated what that monster had done to his girlfriend, the humiliation was a little erotic.
"I made a mess..." she said, tearful again. "I couldn't help it..."
"It's not your fault," he said. "I know you have trouble holding it sometimes, and...it really doesn't matter at all. Come on."
Li Xiuying removed her filthy clothes, and undressed along with Wang Wei before stepping in the shower. The warm water washed the mess off her and she was soon as beautiful as ever. Wang Wei kissed her passionately and pushed her against the wall, his cock slipping into her as they embraced. They fucked for a minute or so before Li Xiuying came, moaning in pleasure and pushing Wang Wei over the edge of orgasm too.
"I feel better now," Li Xiuying said. "But he'll tell everyone...my reputation..."
"I still love you, that's what matters," said Wang Wei. "Who cares what other people think?"
"I do," she said. "I'll be humiliated...I..."
"You're not the bad person in this scenario," he said. "I'm sure people will understand and sympathise."
Li Xiuying hoped he was right. |
I slowly inched my way to the podium when they called my name. My legs trembled beneath me so much I feared for a split second I wouldn’t make it. I had been coached all afternoon on what to say and how to say it. I had to appear strong and unafraid.
“The defense can smell fear.” Mr. Montgomery, the district attorney, had said. I only half believed he was joking. I wondered how strong I would appear if I fainted from nerves before I even gave my testimony.
“Answer only what you’re asked; don’t volunteer information. Sit up straight and give your answers confidently. If you don’t remember a date or event say, ‘I don’t recall,’ not ‘I don’t remember.’’ “I don’t recall’ means at the moment you’re not sure, but it could come back to you at any time.”
There was so much I was supposed to remember I didn’t think I could. All those medication names and side effects, most of which I couldn’t pronounce even if I read them off a slip of paper. They were kidding themselves if they thought I could “recall” any of this stuff off the top of my head. In truth, I had spent the last three years trying to bury the events of the past.
When I somehow miraculously managed to get to the front of the courtroom on my own two feet, I placed one hand on the bible and the other in the air.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help me God?”
“I do.” My dry mouth made it sound more like a croak than any intelligible words, but the bailiff seemed satisfied. He led me into what seemed like a box and I took my seat. The microphone was positioned about two feet taller than where I sat, and I struggled not to focus on how many people were waiting on me as I fiddled with it.
“Are you ready?” The judge asked.
“Yes,” I squeaked. I knew I didn’t sound very convincing. “Your honor.” I threw out at the last minute. I could see Mr. Montgomery give me a smile and a thumbs up.
“Please state your name for the record.”
“Eliza Anne Thompson, sir.”
“How old are you, Eliza?”
“Fifteen, sir.”
The lawyers began to talk amongst themselves, before one of them, a tall slender man with brown peppered hair stepped forward from the defense side.
“Are we ready to begin?” The judge asked.
“Yes, your honor.”
“Then you may proceed.”
“Eliza, may I ask how you came to know the defendant, Miss Debrah Marie Martnif?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know Miss Martnif?”
“We were next door neighbors.” I replied. Her name ringing in my ears made my stomach do flip flops in revulsion. I briefly surveyed my surroundings wondering if there was a trashcan nearby in case I got sick. I spotted one by my feet to the left of me. I must not be the only one concerned about losing their lunch. I mentally thanked myself for skipping lunch. And breakfast. And the previous night's dinner.
“How long have you been next door neighbors?”
“Since 1999.”
“Since 1999? And you know that as a fact?”
“Yes.”
“What year were you born, Eliza?”
“2005.”
“So you know, for a fact, she lived there for six years before you were even born?”
I bit down on the inside of my lip as I tried to calm myself. I didn’t like the condescending tone in his voice. Mr. Montgomery warned me not to take anything personally.
“Yes.”
“Have you seen with your own eyes the deed to the property?”
“No.”
“How about a renters agreement?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know for sure when they moved in?”
“My parents told me.” I said, before taking a sip of water from the glass on the podium. It was hard to talk with my mouth and throat so dry. I was trying to sound confident, but my cracking voice gave me away. The defense attorney laughed.
“Oh, your parents told you, did they?”
“Yes.”
“And like a good little girl you believe everything your parents tell you?”
“N-no, I mean yes, I mean. . . “
The defense attorney laughed again along with a quarter of the courtroom.
“Oh to be a naive kid again. Well, according to the renters agreement I have here, Miss Debbrah Martnif moved into the house in the summer of ‘97 not ‘99.”
Wow, I was a whopping 2 years off. I struggled to keep a straight face and not let my skepticism show.
“So i’m sorry to burst your bubble of innocence, but your parents aren't always right.” I looked at him in his fancy suit and tie feeling dumbfounded. I was fifteen. A teenager. Of course I didn’t think my parents were always right. “Which brings me to my point.” He went on pacing back and forth before stopping and looking me dead in the eyes. “If your parents are wrong about this, then I wonder what other preconceived notions your parents filled your head with?”
I sucked in a lung full of air. Mr. Montgomery nodded in my direction. It was now or never.
“That she was a kind and caring woman who was down on her luck.”
“That’s what your parents told you?”
“Yes”
“And was she?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
“I found out what she really was.”
“And what was she, Eliza?”
For the first time since the trial started I gathered all my strength and looked directly at Debbie, sitting with her lawyers. We made eye contact and she smirked up at me.
“A monster.”
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
It was October of 2017, and my parents decided to travel to Europe for a month leaving behind my younger sister and I. To most twelve year olds, this action was on par to high treason. I had begged, pleaded, cried, bit, spat, thrown tantrums and any other attention seeking behavior I could think of. I was never the most well behaved child to begin with, but being told my sister and I would be left in the care of our neighbor Debbie for an entire month had sent me into a destructive tail spin.
I had nothing against the woman, she was an icon in our neighborhood and her fundraisers had even been featured several times on the local news. People revered her for her struggles and her strength to get through them. They held her up to almost god status. If she asked you to jump, you asked, “how high?” If she said she needed her gutters cleaned, men formed a team and emptied those gutters, along with washing her car, mowing her lawn, trimming the trees, planting flowers, and fixing a leak in the roof. There were no ulterior motives either. Yes, she was a widow, but she wasn’t Miss America or anything. People just genuinely wanted to help.
When the family first moved in, years before I was even born, There was Debbie, her husband Paul, and her two sons, Jackson and James. I never knew Jackson, who was a good nine years older than me, but I'm told he was really sick for a long time. I don’t know the name of the illness he had, but it left him permanently bound in a wheelchair. As he got older, the disease progressed faster until it left him practically a vegetable. When he died at the age of nineteen, I vaguely remember bringing them a casserole with my family. I don’t know why my mother felt the need to rub salt in their wounds by presenting them with her cooking, but it’s tradition I guess.
James on the other hand, was only a year older than me and had been my closest friend at one time. We’d spend the summers over at each other's houses and play in his large backyard in the trees. We’d pretend to get lost in the jungle and made up our own secret and primitive language to communicate with the “locals”, Aka the neighbors cat and the occasional grasshopper. We’d click our tongues together to signal whether the path up ahead was safe, or dangerous. One click for yes, and two for no. Sometime’s the indigionous wild tribes we’d stumble across meant us harm and we’d tap out a secret rhythm, that sounded suspiciously like the theme song to “What’s New Scooby Doo” on the nearest object to signal to our comrades behind us to back away slowly as we did the same.
When it was time for lunch, Debbie would call us back with a wild howl like a wolf and James and I would traverse the wild jungle once again in search of substance. We’d drag ourselves to the picnic table, telling tales of how we barely escaped with our lives from the invisible army of tribesmen along the back wall with their spears still clutched in their hands. We’d tell Debbie how we hadn’t eaten for days and how we thought we’d never see civilization again. I had really enjoyed my afternoons over there. It was amazing that even while caring for Jackson full time, Debbie always had time to indulge us in our little made up games and make us lunch.
Bad luck seemed to curse that family though. After Jackson had died when I was around seven or eight, it had only taken two years for Paul to follow suit. He had suffered a heart attack and gone peacefully in his sleep. This is when James' behaviour towards me had started to change. He was no longer the happy kid I remembered him to be. He grew cynical and criticized all of my ideas. I’d often come home in tears and soon we grew apart.
By the time I was ten I had heard the terrible news. James had begun showing symptoms of the same disease that had taken his older brother. My parents commented on how terrible it must be for Debbie. She had already lost a child and her husband, now the only surviving relative looked as if he might suffer the same slow and painful death. The neighborhood had rallied together to raise funds for her for James treatment when it looked like she might be evicted. There were bake sales, yardsales, car washes, movie nights, anything anyone could come up with to help the struggling broken family. Together they had managed to raise her $15,000. That’s when she ended up on the news. No matter what travesty happened though, she always managed to keep her head up and a smile on her face. That’s why so many people seemed to admire her and I was one of them.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like Debbie, but rather I don’t know how to explain it. Something didn’t feel right. The issue had never been Debbie at all that made me dread my stay. It was seeing James. No longer the fun spirited boy I once knew, but a prisoner to a disease I couldn’t possibly understand. My heart broke for him on the occasions I’d see him in his adult stroller getting loaded into the minivan her church had given her to help transport him. No longer able to climb the trees he once loved, instead he just sat there staring off into the distance.
I begged my mom one more time to let me stay anywhere else as we pulled our belongings out the front door.
“I don’t want to hear it.” my mom said. “We’re paying her twice the amount of anyone else to watch you.”
“Why? I don’t even want to go there!”
“Because she could really use the money, and we need a babysitter. It’s a win win.”
“Why not just give her money and let me stay somewhere else?”
“Because sometimes adults don’t want things just handed to them.” she explained. “Sometimes it feels better to earn an income than it does getting it for free.” I scrunched up my face in confusion.
“I love getting things for free.”
“You’re a kid. It’s different as an adult.”
“Free stuff!” my little sister Lily chimed in. She was only four.
“Ugh, why is Lily’s bag so heavy?” I groaned as I hoisted it up the curb. “Are you sure you’re not just leaving us there and running away forever?”
“Oops, you caught me.”
“Don’t joke like that!” I had never been one to show affection, hugs and kisses from mom and dad were for little kids, and I prided myself on my tough exterior. Now the sudden fear of being abandoned made me want to hug my mom and even put up with her kisses if it meant not being left here. I had always been a rowdy tom boy, my sister on the other hand was a princess. We were complete opposites. The only conclusion I could come up with was that Lily was adopted and my mother faked her pregnancy.
“It’s the bag of pull ups and diapers that are so heavy.” My mom said while a plastic princess potty was tucked under one arm.
“She’s going to be in diapers until highschool.” I said. There was one thing my sister and I did have in common though. We were stubborn. If there was something we didn’t want to do, we put our foot down and wouldn’t budge. Potty training hadn’t been on Lily’s priority list it seemed, despite already being four.
We had just finally managed to get her into pull ups instead of diapers, but when my mom had commented the other night about how leaving might make her backslide, I was pissed. They already treated me like Lily’s live-in babysitter. This was the fifth time we had managed to get her into pull-ups but it felt like something as simple as a cold, a change in schedule, or a shift in the wind made her regress. Guess who got stuck with 75% of the work when I got home from school. Me. If my mom and dad were leaving knowing full well it was going to make Lily go back to diapers again, they could deal with the consequences. I was done.
“Please behave yourself.” my mom said before she set everything down to ring the doorbell. I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious, I don’t want you giving this poor woman any attitude. She has enough to deal with without your snark.”
Was my mom trying to pick a fight because it sounded to me like she was trying to pick a fight. I was already in a foul mood at being forced to come here and here she was trying to twist the knife.
She quickly plastered on a fake smile as Debbie answered the door, who beckoned us in with an equally cheesy grin. We set all our stuff by the door, three full suitcases, and followed her around the house. It was a little different than I remembered, but not by much. Some of the appliances had been upgraded, there was no longer a bathtub but a walk in shower, and the porch and backyard had ramps. I took a moment to admire the large flat screen television in the living room, that definitely hadn’t been there the last time I had been over.
I remembered sitting with James on the carpet watching cartoons after school on their old bulky Sony television from the 90’s that sat in the hutch. I used to give him a hard time because it still had a VCR connected to it instead of a Dvd player. I didn’t really understand how strapped for cash they were with Jackson’s medical bills. I had only seen his brother a handful of times, despite this place once having been a second home to me. He had been bedridden, and his room had been strictly off limits.
I sat on the leather couch, another new addition, and surveyed my new prison while my mom and Lily stood in the hall talking.
“If she gives you any trouble feel free to smack her.” I heard my mom say. I thought they were talking about Lily, until I heard Debbie’s response.
“I can’t imagine her being any trouble. She was always so well behaved and such a delight to have around.”
My mom let out a bark of laughter.
“That was pre-hormones.” That seemed to be all she needed to explain for Debbie to understand because that’s all my mom had to say about me before rattling off Lily’s schedule. I had almost completely zoned out before I heard my mom say, “Don’t worry about changing diapers, Eliza can take care of all that.” Before I could stop myself, I was on my feet and storming over to set the record straight.
“I am not changing Lily’s diapers!” My mother glared at me, but I held my ground. “What’s the point of hiring a babysitter if you still expect me to do all the work?”
“Eliza!” my mother hissed. “I’m so sorry, Debbie, like I said, if she mouths off, you have my permission to punish her however you think is best. I’m sure it won’t come to that though because her attitude is going to stop. This. Instant. Isn’t it?” She finished her last sentence glaring daggers at me.
“It’s not a problem.” Debbie replied, raising and lowering her hands to try and calm us down. “Of course I don’t expect you to change diapers, sweetie.” She told me. I relaxed almost at once. “She won’t even need pull-ups by the time you pick her up.”
I doubted that, but I appreciated her optimistic demeanor. My mom also looked skeptical.
“We’ve been trying all year, but…” My mom trailed off. There had been talk of getting Lily tested for autism. My mom had said Lily was a little slower than other kids her age, but I had nothing to compare her to. Lily was just Lily to me.
Debbie still insisted she could handle it.
When I watched my mom leave, my insides were a convoluted mess of emotions which fought each other for dominance. I didn’t know whether to celebrate or break down and cry. I was angry, hurt, happy and depressed all at once. I realized I must have been staring at the front door longer than necessary when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“A month will pass in no time, sweetie. You’re going to have so much fun you won’t even notice they’re gone.” She leaned down to whisper in my ear, and my face scrunched in pain and confusion as I felt fingernails digging into my shoulder blades. “Now I know you won’t be giving me any trouble this month, will you?” Her voice was no longer sweet and syrupy. I swallowed and sucked in my breath.
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No, ma’am.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” All at once the pain and pressure in my shoulders dissipated, and her voice returned to its normal upbeat and chipper tone. “Now why don’t you be the sweet girl I remember and take your sister outback and play.” |
“Eliza! Eliza! Wake up!” A hand gripped my wrist and I jolted awake. I sat up with a start, my chest heaving up and down as I struggled to control my breathing. I wrenched my arm back and flailed my limbs as I desperately tried to escape my invisible bonds. “Honey, calm down. You were having a bad dream.”
I took a swing at the voice, before my arms were forcefully held in place. It took me a terrifying minute to stop fighting against the intruder and let the world ever so slowly come back into focus. I was back in my bed at home, and the person restraining me was my mother. I began to weep before I felt arms close around me and gently rock me back and forth. I hated affection, but now I flung myself around my mother as if she was the only thing keeping me anchored to reality. I didn’t care if I was fifteen, or twenty, or thirty.
“Shh Shh it’s okay it’s okay. You’re safe, you’re safe!”
I didn’t feel safe. My body shook with involuntary sobs from the lingering terror of my nightmare. All at once I was beginning to feel trapped. I pushed my mother away and sprang out of bed. I danced in place in my room with arms spread out. I needed space and air. Then I would need my mother's embrace once again before the cycle repeated itself.
“Sweetie…”
“Don’t call me sweetie!” I loathed being called sweetie.
“I’m sorry. I know, I’m sorry.” Her eyes were filled with sadness as she looked me up and down. Her stare drifted from my soaked Nightmare before Christmas pajamas over to my bed. I watched as she pulled the covers back to reveal the large wet stain on my sheets. “Oh, Eliza.” She whispered. Her voice was a mix of sympathy and concern. “You don’t have to go through with this.”
“I do.” my voice cracked with emotion. I had been putting on a brave face, but in reality, the stress of the trial, the stress of testifying, the stress of facing her was knocking down my carefully constructed tough girl facade faster than I could put it up. I felt like everything was collapsing around me. What I wanted more than anything was to go in the backyard and light up, but now that I’d woken up half the house I doubted I could sneak it without getting caught.
“She’s going to jail whether you testify or not.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Eliza, look at yourself. You’re shaking, you’re sweaty, and you're covered in... If I had known this was going to affect you so much, I never would have allowed you to testify in the first place.”
“I’ll be fine.” I let out a snort of air as I paced the room.
“Lizzy, stop. Stop pretending you’re fine, you’re not fooling anyone, especially not looking like...like that. ”
I looked down at myself and cringed in disgust, noticing for the first time how bad it was. I had only been vaguely aware of a heavy dampness on one of my pajama pant legs, but now that I was beginning to calm down, the full extent of the damage became apparent. I let out a moan and hung my head. It was down my legs and up my back. I sighed in defeat and let my mom push me into the bathroom.
“It’s going to be okay.” She said before closing the door and leaving me to shower. As the warm water ran over me I leaned my head against the tiled wall and pounded my fist in the air as the memories once again filled my head.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
I should have known something wasn’t right the moment I felt those fingernails dig into my skin. Never before had I felt such a terrifying aura, but she had turned it on and off so fast I chalked it up to a mix between my imagination and a warning to behave myself. My mom had said she could do as she saw fit but, I don’t remember her ever doing something like that before.
I thought back to when I was younger, but she had always been so sweet and kind. I saw her as a second maternal figure. Maybe I had just never acted out in front of her before?
I scooped up Lily into my arms and headed to the backyard as she wiggled and squirmed in protest. She hated physical contact about as much as I did, but I felt a great urgency to leave the house and the backyard didn’t sound like such a bad idea after all. My jaw nearly hit the floor when I stepped outside. I remembered their backyard being big, but they certainly didn’t have all this. There was a large above ground pool, a giant trampoline, trees, fountains, and adult sized swingset. Both Lily and I stood in stunned silence as we took it all in.
“I’m trying to make the best of what little time he has left.” a voice said beside me. Debbie must have sensed our awe. I had no idea this was all back here.
“Can he...can he use any of this?” I asked. I honestly had no idea what kind of condition James was in.
“He used to.” Debbie said. “It’s all second hand stuff. Donations mostly. It took a few days to get the rust out of the trampoline, and I was able to patch up the holes in the pool. We used that mostly for physical therapy. This though!” she said patting the swing set. “On his good days he still loves getting pushed in the swing.” Her smile fell into a frown. “The bad days though I don’t know where he is. I don’t know if he’s aware of his surroundings or not.” She let out a long sigh.
“Jump! Jump!” Lilly said pointing to the trampoline. Her eyes were filled with so much excitement I could hardly reign her in.
“Lily, shh” I whispered. She wasn’t having it. Patience was an unknown virtue to toddlers.
“JUUUMMMPPPP!” Lily screamed. I cringed.
Debbie smiled and squatted down to Lilly’s eye level. “You want to go jump on the trampoline, sweetie?” Lily nodded her head with enthusiasm with a huge grin plastered across her face. “Well, I don’t know… It’s awfully big, and you’re awfully small.” Lily was horror struck. She looked as if someone had just ripped her favorite stuffed animal into pieces right before her eyes. “I think… I think you’re going to have to prove to me that you’re a big girl. How can Lily prove herself…?” Debbie tapped her chin and pretended to think long and hard. “Well, maybe if we had her… no no, that’s much too hard. I’m sure there’s other things we can do besides jump on the trampoline.”
“No!” Lily whined. “I can do it!”
“Hmm… it’s an awfully tough challenge, but I suppose it would prove Lily is a big girl.”
“Lily is a big girl!’
“Alright, if you think you can handle it. Eliza!” Debbie said in a deep booming voice. “Go forth and bring out the Chalice of Champions!” I cocked my head to the side and mouthed, the what? “You know the…” she connected her hands to create a cylinder shape.
“Oh oh, right! The Chall-” my face fell. “Isn’t a chalice something you drink out of?”
Debbie cringed. “Maybe not the best name, afterall.” I laughed and she gave me a wink. I had forgotten how good she was with kids. I ran back inside and retrieved the “Not Chalice of Champions.”
“I have returned from my quest, M’lady.” I said bowing and placing the potty on the patio.
“Princess Lily of Cardinal Court, your throne awaits.” Debbie said, motioning to the hunk of plastic. “In order to prove yourself a big girl you must sit upon your throne and produce the Water of Midas!”
“The Water of Midas?” I asked with a snort of laughter.
“Hey, I’m making it up as I go along.” Debbie said.
Debbie was good, I’d give her that, but she had never come face to face with the likes of Lily, who wouldn’t hesitate to look you in the eye and proceed to poop on the floor if it meant doing the opposite of what she was told. There was also no way she’d warm up to a stranger this fast, she was a creature of habit and she hated breaking rou-
I stared in shock unable to finish my own thought as I watched my little sister, the most defiant little pain in my ass, not walk but run to the potty, drop her pull up and and sit. I was trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Okay, okay, so she got her to sit. Big deal. That was only half the battle. She would hold it though. She always held it until you gave up. It was a battle of wills to see who would relent first.
“I’m done.” Lily announced.
No. No. No. No. There is no way she went! No way! There is no way in hell it could be that easy.
“Well it looks like we have a winner!” Debbie announced when Lily stood up.
Debbie had to be pranking me, she just had to be. I peered into the bowl expecting to find it empty, but there it was. “Water of Midas”
I stared at Debbie dumbfounded. She just smiled smugly in return. I shook my head and laughed.
“Can we borrow your trampoline?”
I watched as Debbie picked out the bowl and examined it. I scrunched up my face in disgust. What was she doing?
“I don’t like this color; it’s too yellow.” she said. She was staring at it so intently I was tempted to ask if she could read my fortune in it.
“Umm, well, it’s pee...so?”
“Look at it.” I tried to understand what she was seeing that I wasn’t.
“Yeah, still pee.”
“It’s supposed to be clear. I think she’s dehydrated.”
“Oh,” Was all I could think of to say. I scratched my head in confusion as I watched her walk inside to dump it. “That was weird.” I mumbled to myself.
“Jump!” Lily said. “I’m a big girl.”
“Yes you are!” I said. “You did a really good job! But let’s wait for Debbie to come back and tell us it’s ok first.”
We waited for ten minutes, and I wondered if Debbie was even coming back out, but soon enough she appeared pushing James out in his stroller. My insides churned as I saw him, his head back against the headrest and his sunken eyes looking out into nothing. He looked even worse up close. He looked so thin and frail.
“I thought he could join us. It’s such a nice day out.”
“Yeah.” I mumbled looking away in an attempt not to stare. I watched instead as Debbie replaced the bowl back inside the Elsa decorated plastic seat.
“Jump!’ Lily begged. “Jump! Jump! Jump!”
“Yes, yes! You’ve proven yourself a big girl!” Debbie said. “Now I need you to continue to be a big girl! Think you can do that?”
“Yes!” Lily cheered.
“You can jump on the trampoline as long as you can keep dry. Wet pull ups and no more jumping until you can prove you're a big girl again.” Lily agreed, but seeing how excited she was, she most likely would have agreed to sell her soul if it meant she got to bounce. “And I want you to drink plenty of water! I don’t want you getting sick!” She bent down and retrieved two metal canteen bottles with our names written on the side with black Sharpie. She handed one to each of us before telling Lily to go have fun. She didn’t need to be told twice.
I hoisted her up and she crawled through the protective netting on all fours and let out a loud shriek of pleasure as she began jumping up and down. I was about to climb up myself but Debbie stopped me.
“Eliza, I said only big girls get to jump on the trampoline.” I waited for the joke, but we just stood there awkwardly facing each other. I tried to play along.
“Uhh, How might thou prove one’s worth?” I winced half expecting a scolding for my attitude earlier, but none came. Instead my mouth gaped open as she pointed once again to the potty.
“You must sit upon the throne and produce the Water of Midas.” All was silent for a good five seconds before I burst out laughing. Her deadpan delivery really nailed the punchline for me. I was beginning to remember why I had liked her so much when I was little. Her ability to get into character was like nothing else I'd seen.
When we made eye contact though, the laughter ceased. She continued to show no sign of humor and it was making me uncomfortable.
“You’re not serious. I’m twelve! I can use the bathroom just fine.”
“I’m concerned about your inability to notice the problem with your sisters urine.”
“W-what? I- I don’t understand..”
“I’m worried about you. I need to know what yours looks like.”
“It looks like...pee?” I took a step back from her. This conversation had taken a bizarre left turn I wasn’t prepared for.
“I don’t think it’s normal. I’m now responsible for your health and safety and if I feel you’re not drinking enough water…”
“Then I’ll just drink more water, you don’t need to see-”
“You do not tell me what to do young lady.” The venom was back in her voice. She was coming closer to me now and I could feel myself shrinking in her presence. “While you are staying here you will do as I say, do I make myself clear? You will not question me and you will not back talk to me; your mother may put up with it, but I will not!” She was nose to nose with me now and as she looked into my eyes I felt a wave of absolute terror I had never felt before. I hadn’t the slightest idea what I had done to make her angry and the sudden shift in personality was alarming. I could feel tears welling in my eyes.
“The-the bathroom, then, you can see after.”
“No, the toilet water will dilute it.” she pointed again at the plastic potty.
“I- I can’t do it. I’m too big!”
“Then squat over it.”
“No!” I stood my ground. This was nuts! She was nuts! Did she really expect me, a twelve year old, to squat over a plastic potty in her backyard in front of everyone so she could see the color of my pee?
“Then you will stay out here until you do.” She whispered to me. “Now drink.” She thrusted the bottle with my name on it into my hands. I pulled the stopper and sucked down large mouthfuls of water. She seemed satisfied until I made a face.
“It tastes funny.”
“It’s called tap water. I’m sorry we don’t live up to your high class expectations.” I felt like she had just slapped me in the face. I was so stunned and confused by everything going on, I stuck the bottle back in my mouth and pulled a few more mouthfuls.
“Lizzy! Play with me!” Lily called from the trampoline. I looked at Debbie, who plastered on another grin.
“What are you waiting for? Go play.”
I hurried away from her as fast as I could as Debbie took a seat on the old picnic bench next to James and watched us. I jumped around with Lily for a bit but my heart wasn’t really in it. I kept looking over my shoulder at them. Debbie never seemed to look away from me. Everytime we made eye contact, she motioned for me to drink and I obeyed.
“Does your water taste funny?” I whispered to Lily. “Let me try a sip.”
“No, mine!” She chugged it down. This concerned me. My sister was picky about just about everything. She would have noticed right away if something was off about it. Maybe Debbie was right and I was the picky one. Maybe it was just tap water?
After another two hours I was absolutely exhausted. My sister's boundless energy knew no limits. Despite my bizarre run in with Debbie that left me on edge, the trampoline had won over my full attention in the end. I jumped high in the air performing front flips and backflips to my sisters awe as she demanded I teach her how. I’d jump next to her and send her flying in the air, but the closest she ever came to doing a flip was landing on her back. This didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. I could tell she was having the time of her life. With a little assistance getting up and down from the trampoline, she had even gone potty on her own without being asked.
It was the first time she had ever shown any kind of initiative in that regard. By the time the four hour mark came and went, her still being in the same pull-up was a monumental feat. After her third successful trip, I was getting jealous. I wanted to go inside and use the restroom so bad. I had drunk two entire canisters of water at Debbie’s command and she just kept refilling it. She had never mentioned what she had demanded of me earlier, but I was still afraid to attempt going inside. I kept hoping Debbie would grow bored watching us and either call us in or go inside herself.
I didn’t have a solid plan if she did leave me alone, but I was quickly growing more and more desperate. I kept imagining terribly inappropriate scenarios,like asking if we could go swimming and peeing in the pool, or squatting in the trees like I used to when James and I would play, “jungle explorer.”
“Jump.” Lily demanded of me as I sat resting at the opening trampoline. One leg was outstretched, the other directly under me in an attempt to hold it better. I was really beginning to worry now. She couldn’t really expect me to do something so degrading and humiliating, did she? At this point I was even considering it a viable option.
“Not now, I’m tired.” I said. My legs were shaking from a mixture of over exertion and desperation. I was only minutes away from having to jam my hands against my crotch. That’s when Lily began bouncing over towards me. I gasped as the jostling made me leak. I was down to my last resort after all. I curled in a ball and held myself. The clock was ticking down. I was in penalty over time.
Lily, gathering all her four year old wisdom and discretion, saw what I was doing, and from the top of her lungs, shouted. “LIZZY HAS TO GO POTTY!” I wanted to curl in a hole and die. Under normal circumstances, I would have praised her for stringing together a complete sentence.
I could hear footsteps approaching now. I closed my eyes and buried my head in the rubber of the trampoline. I felt the presence of a larger figure looming over me and taking in my state.
“Eliza, is this true? Do you need to go potty this badly?”
I let out a moan, equal parts from embarrassment and desperation. I nodded my head. There was no point in lying. My situation was obvious.
“Eliza,” Debbie began sounding disappointed. “I expected this kind of behavior from Lily, not you. You’re almost a teenager. You know where the bathroom is, you’ve been here before. Do I have to remind you as well to stop playing and use the toilet as well as your sister?”
I wanted to cry. All this time I could have used the bathroom after all? That’s not what she told me!
“Bathroom.” I moaned as I attempted to sit up. I could feel myself leak again.
Debbie sighed in disgust and disapproval. “You’re not going to make it to the bathroom in time.” She said it not as a question, but as a fact.
I wanted to protest, but I knew she was right. I doubted I could make it off the trampoline. I was about to give up the fight, roll out and pee my pants in the grass (better there than make a mess on Debbie’s trampoline) but she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Lily, what happens to little girls who wet themselves?”
“No more jumps!”
“That’s right, but that’s what happens to little girls who wet their pull ups. What do you think happens to little girls who should know better and wet their panties?”
“Umm, diapers.”
“That’s right, Lily, you’re very smart.”
Lilly giggled and crawled over me. I whimpered as Debbie helped her down.
Wetting my pants in the grass was clearly no longer an option, but there was no way I could make it inside. What if I managed to get off, tug my pants down, and pee in the grass? Did that count as an accident?
“What about the grass?” I asked through clenched teeth. The precious seconds were ticking away while Debbie stood there mocking me. I no longer cared who saw me do it, as long as she didn’t make good on her threat to put me in a diaper. Not like she could though. All she had were Lily’s and they would never fit me.
“Are you an animal, Eliza?” I didn’t answer, the grass still seemed like my best bet. I ever so slowly managed to swing one leg over followed by the other until my legs were dangling over the rim of the trampoline. All I had to do was jump down, but I knew as soon as I did it would spell disaster. I doubled over, both hands firmly squashed against myself in the most unlady like posture imaginable. My mom would have an aneurysm if she saw me like this.
“Lily, are you allowed to pee in the grass at home?” Lily giggled and shook her head. “Where do you pee at home?”
“The potty!” Lily answered. That little liar I thought through gritted teeth. She’d sooner pee in her toy box than in her potty before today.
“Go get it.”
My eyes widened as realization dawned on me. Debbie had tricked me. I couldn’t believe it. I was completely without another option. Either I wet myself, or I do what she wanted in the first place. Only now, she had framed the narrative in such a way that it was my fault. To the onlooker, I was the one who didn’t want to stop playing and use the bathroom until it was too late.
Lily set the potty down in front of me. I was still on the trampoline and stuck. There was no way I could land, get my pants down and squat over it.
“I can’t.” I sobbed. “I can’t move.”
Debbie’s tone of voice changed once again. She no longer sounded mocking or angry, but back to the sympathetic mother figure. I was finding her ability to slip into different roles unnerving.
“It’s okay, sweetie, I’ll help you.” She began to gently tug down my pants and underwear, until they were around my knees. I longed to just pee through the metal rings under me and into the grass. I was in the perfect position to do so, and I didn’t think it would hurt anything. I had already leaked several times and it wasn’t going in my pants. Unfortunately for me, she seemed obsessed with setting a good example for Lily. It was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with.
I watched as Debbie scooped the bowl out of the potty. At least she seemed to understand I couldn’t get down and sit on it. I knew what she planned, but she still felt the need to say it out loud. I felt my cheeks grow warm, I was surprised I could even focus on a feeling such as embarrassment in my current state. “Jump down and i’ll hold this under you.”
Mortified and absolutely out of my mind with the need to relieve myself, I fell once again into her trap. I jumped down with my legs spread open and relaxed, only she never moved the bowl until I was nearly half way done. I stood for what felt like an eternity watching in horror as I peed directly into my lowered pants.
“I wasn’t ready!” She complained,“You were supposed to wait for my signal” before finally moving the plastic bowl into position. Lily cackled at the sight of me, soaked pants around my knees as if it was the funniest thing she had ever seen. Debbie had never said anything about a signal. Had I not given her enough time to explain?
I buried my face into my hands. The collected pee echoed deafeningly in the bowl and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the bowl filled up, or so I assumed. I never saw it. Debbie, without a word of warning, pulled it back. Then she stood and walked back toward the house with her prize, leaving me standing there dumbfounded to finish in my pants.
“What the fuck.” I muttered under my breath.
Three things became transparent to me at that moment.
One: Debbie was not who she pretended to be.
Two: She had wanted my pee and had gone to elaborate methods to get it.
Three: James was no longer lost in his own little world. He was staring directly at me. |
When I stepped out of the shower at Debbie’s, I was relieved to find a pile of clothes waiting for me on top of the toilet seat. I slid my pajamas on, despite it only being 6 pm, while thanking the powers that be I had been given a pair of my panties. It had only been one day and I felt I was already at my emotional breaking point. It had taken me awhile to stop crying, but as I stood underneath the soothing spray of warm water, my hiccups and sobs eventually ceased.
I still felt miserable and sorry for myself, but underneath the surface was a feeling of tranquility that could only come after a good, heartfelt cry. The stress of knowing I was being dumped here, along with the many arguments with my parents, had been accumulating for days. It had been a matter of time. I could feel a heavy wave of exhaustion begin to wash over me. Between the hours spent jumping, and the emotional turmoil, I was ready to wave a white flag in surrender.
I wasn’t 100% sure where I would be sleeping, but I had a feeling it would be on the couch. I made a beeline for it and sprawled out. I closed my eyes for what felt like a mere minute, but before I knew it I was being tackled. I groaned in pain and clutched my stomach as Lily continued to shake me awake.
“Pizza!” she squealed. I groaned again and tried to push her off of me. This child had no off switch, and doctors had the nerve to diagnose me with A.D.H.D?
“I’m tired. Leave me alone.” I covered my face with one of the couch cushions.
“I let you nap for an hour, any longer and you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Debbie said. I doubted I had been on the couch that long, but when I lifted my head to stare at the clock display on the television screen I noticed it was already 7:30. I let my head plop back down on the arm rest. I didn’t care if I had been asleep one hour or five hours. I was drained. I felt like I could sleep til Halloween.
“C’mon, time to get up and have dinner, if you’re still tired later you can go to bed. I’ve got the back bedroom ready.”
It wasn’t until I could hear the two of them conspiring to tickle the bottoms of my feet did I make an attempt to get up. As soon as I took three steps to the kitchen I knew I didn’t feel quite right. The world around me was swaying and I crashed into Debbie. With reflexes like a cat she flung her arms out to steady me.
“Woah, careful. Did you get up too fast?”
“Uh, maybe? I-I don’t know. I feel a little funny.” I admitted . “I think I’m okay now.” I took a seat at the kitchen table where a pizza box sat.
“Are you sure? You look a little pale. Let me get you some water.” I watched her dump the contents of the half empty bottle I had been drinking out of earlier and fill it with fresh water from the tap. She screwed the lid back on and handed it to me. I took a sip. It still had a sort of weird, almost sweet after taste. Since I had just watched her fill it right in front of my eyes I knew the problem was with me. I felt a small pang of guilt. Either I was being picky or something was up with my sense of taste.
Her words replayed in my head. “I’m sorry we don’t live up to your high class expectations.” I cringed. I didn’t want to believe I was that picky. I didn’t want to think about anything that had happened today. I wanted to be angry, but at the same time I had this sick, sinking feeling in my stomach I deserved everything that happened to me. I was the one who never made an attempt to go inside and use the bathroom. I was the one who had been complaining.
“Thank you,” I said as I accepted a slice of pepperoni pizza she handed me on a white paper plate. I wasn’t hungry, but I forced myself to take a few bites. I didn’t want to give her any reason to be mad at me. Lily on the other hand chowed down like she had never tasted anything so delicious in her entire life. I listened to her unintelligible toddler chatter and gave her a weak smile everytime she addressed me, but I was having a hard time focusing on what she was trying to say. I had forced down a slice, but now it felt like it was wreaking havoc on my insides.
“Eliza, are you okay? You haven’t said a word all evening.” I flashed her an unconvincing smile. She leaned closer to me and asked, “Are you still upset about earlier? I thought you understood it was all for show for Lily. I wasn’t really upset at you, I just-”
At that moment I could feel my mouth begin to fill with saliva and a painful cramp formed in my stomach. I knew I was in trouble. I jumped out of my seat and ran to the bathroom. I stuck my head in the toilet right before I began heaving up my dinner with a force I didn’t think possible.
I heard my name being called from the kitchen, but when I didn’t respond Debbie’s figure appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, Eliza, sweetie.” She said. I clung to the toilet bowl as the room began to sway again. I could feel sweat dripping down my chest and an unpleasant warm, sticky feeling in my pajama bottoms. When I managed to glance behind me I was horrified to discover my pants had done next to nothing to contain the mess. Myself and the bathroom floor were now coated in the foul brown liquid. I had but a moment to take in the damage as I could feel my stomach preparing to play another round of “Projectile Pizza”.
When I heard the bathroom door close in between heaves I had assumed Debbie had left me alone to deal with my situation in private. Instead I was surprised to feel a comforting hand begin to rub up and down my back. She knelt far off to my side away from the blast radius, but still close enough to reach me.
“Poor sweetie, no wonder your mom said you’ve been so ornery these last few days. You must have been coming down with the flu or something.” I moaned in agreement and rested my head against the rim of the porcelain bowl. After fifteen minutes of non-stop heaving, I felt my stomach cramps begin to subside. With eyes still closed, I groped around until I found the lever and flushed. “I’m so sorry, if I knew you were sick I never would have said those things to you.”
This afternoon now felt like spilled milk in comparison. In my current state I wouldn’t have cared even if she had slapped me in the face. We stayed like that a few more minutes. I didn’t dare check behind me to view the collateral damage for fear of re-triggering the nausea.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ll clean it up in a bit.” I still felt too dizzy to attempt moving. Ever since I turned double digits, in my family if you made a mess you had to clean it up.
“Nonsense. I’m rinsing you off with the shower head, giving you some medicine and then putting you straight to bed.” She left for a moment and came back carrying a little medicine cup filled with Pepto Bismol and not the thermos I had been drinking from, but a cold Arrowhead bottle of water. I threw back the pink cup before wincing at the mixture of stomach acid and medication before washing it down with water. Compared to the water I was drinking before, it tasted amazing.
“Strip.” I heard. She held out a plastic grocery store bag, and I pulled off my soiled clothing and put them inside. “I hope you’re not too attached to these because I’m throwing them away.” She tossed the bag aside and stepped over the mess. “The nice thing about the modifications to the bathroom is it will make cleaning up simple.” There was nothing separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom since the bathtub had been removed. Debbie filled a bucket of water before stepping over the messy puddle once again and sloshed the water over it from the side. Just like that, there was no sign I had a moment ago attempted to repaint the walls using only a single slice of pizza and my butthole.
“I’ll disinfect later. Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”
"Shouldn't I stay by the toilet?"
"Just let whatever needs to come out come out where you are. You won't hurt anything in here. I don't want you falling and hitting your head lunging for the toilet. At this point it doesn't matter."
I was still too weak to stand up for another shower, but it didn’t matter. I scooted myself over and Debbie detached the shower head, stood over me, and rinsed me off while ordering me to turn this way and that. I felt myself lose control of my bowels a couple more times but with a flick of her wrist, the mess was washed away. I was too miserable to feel any kind of shame. My head pounded, my throat burned, and it felt like I had attempted to eat Flaming Hot Cheeto’s with my ass.
“I have stuff that will help. Do you want it?” I nodded. I tried to stand, but the world around me started to fade out. I sat back down and leaned my head against the wall. She left again and returned with James’s wheelchair. She threw a towel over the seat and helped me into it before pushing me into the one room that had always been off limits. Jackson’s.
In the middle of the room was a bed that looked like it belonged in a hospital instead of someone’s house and surrounding it were piles and piles of various medical supplies.
“Wow.” I croaked.
“Sorry, I know there’s a lot of stuff in here. I use this room mainly for storage. This is all the stuff I need to take care of James, so I apologize in advance If I’m in and out all hours of the night. I guess if you’re going to come down with something, you’re in the right place. There’s so much different medical stuff in here it’s like you’re already in the hospital.”
Debbie helped me climb into bed. It was such an ordeal that by the time I was able to lay back down, I was once again sweaty and panting. I must have looked eerily pale since she thrusted a pale pink tub in my hands.
“In case you get sick again.” she explained. I nodded and set it down next to me on the bed. “And if you want to sit up.” She picked up a remote, pressed a button and the upper half of the bed rose. I would have found it amusing on any other day. She lowered me back down and set the remote aside. “I’m sure you just want to go to bed, so let me finish getting you situated.”
“Yeah, thank you.” I closed my burning eyes. I could hear her humming an upbeat tune as she dug through boxes and bags.
“I’ve got the medicine for you. Do you want me to apply it, or would you prefer putting it on yourself?” I mumbled something unintelligible in response. I was already half asleep. “I’ll do it.” she said. She rolled me over onto my side so that my back was facing her. I heard what sounded like latex and without warning I felt a finger knocking at the back door. I yelped in surprise, but the cooling relief from whatever she had just rubbed on was immediate. “Better?” It was indeed.
She rolled me onto my back once again. “Just one more thing. Think you can lift your waist?” It took a lot of effort, but I managed to lift myself up high enough so she could slide something under me. I didn’t even notice what it was until it was taped on me. I looked down at myself and back at her. “So you’ve got your tub here if you feel like you need to throw up, some water, a blanket. I’ll set Lilly up a spot on the couch so you can get some rest. My plan was for you two to bunk together, but I don’t want her catching whatever you have. I hope it’s not too late already. I’ll let you rest now. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. Stay in bed, if you need something just call me on the baby monitor over here. I don’t want you to try to get up and hurt yourself.”
“Thanks, and sorry about…”
“It’s not your fault. What’s one more diaper to change?”
“I-I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” I protested even though I had no way of knowing if my stomach would strike again in the night. “I can make it to the bathroom.”
She flashed me an indulgent smile similar to the one’s she gives Lily. “For now stay in bed if I’m not there to help you. You got yourself a nasty bug. Normal rules don’t apply, so don’t worry about it.” She flicked off the light. “Feel better soon.”
It was indeed a rough night. Debbie had been right again. It seemed every other hour my stomach decided to purge itself. With the pizza long gone, I heaved up mouthfuls of bile. I was thankful for Debbie’s forward thinking. I at least now had the peace of mind I wasn’t destroying the bed below me, though it wasn’t much solace. At this point I didn’t care, I just wanted the pain to stop.
By two in the morning I was beginning to hallucinate. I could swear I saw a figure crawling towards me on the floor. I tried shutting my eyes, but it made the room spin, further agitating my nausea.
I opted instead to focus on the smoke detector on the ceiling, it seemed to keep the dizziness, and my imagination at bay. I kept telling myself my mind was playing tricks on me, but every time I looked down, the figure was there, moaning as it pulled itself closer to me on the floor. I wanted to call for Debbie, but I was paralyzed with fear. The only thing I could think of was Jackson’s ghost was haunting this room. It was where he died after all.
“You’re stupid; it’s just a fever.” I had the blanket over my head now. What was I doing cowering like a child? Someone just dropped something in the hall, like a towel or a blanket and my delirious mind can’t figure it out.
I tried to sleep, but I kept feeling like I was being watched. I sighed knowing what I had to do. I was never going to sleep until I figured out what it was.
“On the count of three i’m going to take the blanket off my head, get up, and figure out what the hell that was. One. Two. Three.” I lowered my shield, peered over the bed and screamed at the top of my lungs.
Looking up at me from the floor was a pale disfigured and sunken face. “Help... me...” the voice rasped. It opened its mouth and blood poured out and down its chin. “E-li-za..” It gurgled out once more before It scurried out of the room on all fours.
“Eliza, are you okay?” was the last thing I heard before the mixture of fright, fever and dehydration took me.
I only had time to utter a single word before I went under.
“Jackson.” |
I sat with my mom on the psychiatrist's couch unwilling to contribute. I was pissed. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to ”talk about it”. That’s what was causing all the problems to begin with. I was doing fine with the medication I got from my GP.
“I can see that this has caused a great strain on your relationships with authority figures, and for good reason.” He said. I shrugged my shoulders in response. “I can see your mother is concerned about your recent behavior.”
If by concerned he meant her snooping through my things and confiscating the little bit of weed I could afford, then yes. She was “very concerned”. Just knowing it was there at the bottom of my sock drawer was what had kept me going, like an emergency escape button. Now that it was gone it was like I was on a runaway roller coaster with no brakes.
“That defense attorney is just so, so , Argh!” said my mom. She threw up her hands in frustration. “He has the medical reports right there, but he has to go and second guess every little thing it says. ‘Maybe it was this, maybe it was that’. He even went as far as accusing Eliza of making herself sick for attention!”
I clenched my fist together and jiggled my knee. I really didn’t want to talk about this. I could feel the burn in the back of my eyes. I wanted to run out the door. At least in court I had a reason to relive it. I had a goal. To see that obese cow of a woman with with her blonde hair, hideous make up and fake smile rot in prison. I needed people to see her for who she truly was.
“There’s a reason people hate lawyers.” he said. “They’ll do whatever it takes to discredit witnesses and leave reasonable doubt. A good chunk of my clients have been referrals from Fred Montgomery.”
“He really has gone out of his way to support her in this.”
“Eliza, I've been following along with the case, and I think what you’re doing is very brave.” I shrugged again. “Not many people could keep their composure under that kind of pressure like you have.”
I wanted to laugh. I wasn’t keeping my composure at all! I’ve already forced three recesses because I could no longer speak a single intelligible word through my choked sobs. The moment that bastard Raymond, the defense attorney, hinted I had done this to myself I had lost it. Some people on the internet have been saying it's a sign of a guilty conscience, but I was just so fed up and frustrated.
I keep Googling the case everyday. I know it’s a stupid thing to do and it’s just causing more pain, but I need to see people’s reaction. I need to know the public's thoughts, because maybe that’s what the jury believes too. It’s still fairly split. The town I had lived in wasn’t so small where everyone knew everyone, but it seemed like everyone knew Debbie. I had become infamous and so we were forced to move.
When news had first spread of Debbie’s arrest, my name hadn’t been mentioned in the press and yet somehow everyone in town knew. We’d wake up to find our house egged, the cars keyed, and hate filled letters in the mailbox. Someone had even urinated on our front door and spray painted, “LYING BITCH” in big red letters across the sidewalk. We thought it was just kids, but when my dad installed security cameras and reviewed the tapes, we were shocked to discover it was members of our own church.
When we moved a few towns over, away from Debbie’s influence, things had gotten a lot better. I was no longer infamous. I was a victim. We lived in peace for three years, as I tried to move on with my life and make sense of what happened. Lily had been oblivious during our stay there. I was thankful at least Debbie hadn’t done anything past making her repeat what she had been told to say. All Lily remembered was the trampoline and the big screen TV.
“Eliza, are you in there?” he asked.
“Huh? Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“How is school going? Your mom says your grades have been slipping.”
“It’s hard to focus.” I admitted. “I keep losing track of what’s due and when.” I didn’t mind talking about school. It had nothing to do with the mess I was in.
“Have you been taking your medicine at night?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been sleeping at night?”
“Not really.”
“She’s been having nightmares and wetting the bed.” My mom threw in. I glared at her.
“I can try you on something to help you sleep, but if the bedwetting continues I want you to go see your GP about it. Given what you’ve gone through it might just be psychological, but it could also indicate kidney damage. How many times do you think she-”
“Three times for sure.” I said cutting him off. “I was sick every other week for three days.” I didn’t want to hear the actual words. The betrayal still stung like a scraped knee to my heart even after all this time. I had trusted her, and opened up to her in ways I hadn’t with anyone else. She had been kind and gentle when I had been ill, never complaining if I had left a mess somewhere. When I was clear headed though, I could see the wheels in her head turning. Every action she made was calculated down to the very last spoken word. She was always ready with a story and a quick explanation. I had learned this the first time I had gotten sick. I knew the “what”, I just couldn’t wrap my head around the “why”.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
I sat huddled in a sheet in the doctor's office. Debbie had driven me to urgent care first thing in the morning as soon as she could find someone to keep an eye on the rest of the kids at home. I had stopped vomiting hours ago, but I was still very weak and shaky on my feet. I ached all over and the lights did nothing to help my agonizing headache.
Nurses were coming in handing me cup after cup of water to drink. They wanted a urine sample, but my first attempt 15 minutes ago resulted in me dropping the cup of urine in the toilet when I had nearly passed out. Debbie told them she’d help me this time since I didn’t seem to have the motor skills necessary at the moment. The nurses, who seemed to be growing impatient with me, thanked her.
I wanted to protest, but I was too out of it. Why did everyone want my urine lately? Was I wasting some big money making opportunity here by flushing it down? Was there a market I didn’t know about?
By my fourth cup of water Debbie was leading me by the arm back into the bathroom.
“Lift up your gown and spread your legs.” she ordered once I sat on the toilet. I had to clench every muscle in order to fight the reflex of going right then and there. She handed me the sterile wipe and I cleaned myself before throwing it in the trash. When she squatted down in front of me holding the cup in place I had to look away. It felt like a replay of yesterday. I tried to relax but I couldn’t. The awkwardness was only made worse by Debbie trying to hold a conversation down there.
“Are you having any more hallucinations?”
“No.” I mumbled. I couldn’t believe I had thought I saw a dead Jackson coming for me. Now that I was awake and feeling better, it seemed more and more like a dream. Debbie explained what sleep paralysis was, and it was far more likely my illness had brought on an episode than a dead teenager crawling on his hands and knees haunting the house. I admitted I had watched The Grudge the other night on my phone and that seemed to end that conversation.
“Anything yet?” I shook my head. She got up and turned on the faucet and that seemed to do the trick. After another minute I was able to go enough for the test. Debbie’s ability to play catch seemed to have improved.
After another ten minutes of sitting on the wax paper covered table the doctor came in and began asking questions. Debbie spared no details in telling the tale of how I played Picaso on her bathroom floor. She even mentioned changing diapers and waking up the whole house screaming. The doctor agreed with her theory and chalked to up to a mixture of childhood imagination and illness.
He poked around my stomach and sides. I winced when he began touching my lower right side. He talked with Debbie instead of me and I grew irritated. I kept hearing the words “stones” and “crystals”. I knew he didn’t mean gemstones, but I amused myself by imagining that’s why everyone wanted my urine. I peed diamonds.
By the time we left I still had no idea what was wrong. He hadn’t said a word to me, just talked medical jargon that went over my head with Debbie and handed her a prescription.
“What was he saying?” I asked as we sat in the drive thru at Walgreens.
“He said he found evidence of kidney stones in your urine.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means you’re going to take it easy for a few days, drink lots of water, take your medicine and hope your body takes care of the rest.” I didn’t like the way she had ended that sentence.
“What’s ‘the rest’?” She grimaced and flashed a sympathetic smile. It seemed my trouble was not done just yet.
“The medicine should help things... come out easier.” I really didn’t like where this was going. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re going to have to pee it out.”
It didn’t sound that bad, until she answered my next question.
“Will it hurt?”
“Maybe.”
That was a large red flag for “yes”
Debbie handed me a large bag from the drive through window, and we headed back towards the house. I peeked inside and pulled out what looked like a funnel with mesh on the bottom. What in the hell kind of torture device was this?
When we got home, I had planned on going back to sleep. I still felt like a mix between human and whatever it felt like to be a squashed dead squirrel on the side of the road. I stopped when I got to the doorway though. Try as I might, I couldn’t entirely rid myself of the memory of seeing the boy with the bloody mouth. I knew it wasn’t real, but I just couldn’t get myself to go in. It gave me the creeps sleeping where someone once died.
I made my way over to the couch and nudged Lily over, who watched television so intently as if it held all of the answers to life, and laid down. I winced as my lower stomach gave off a dull ache in protest. I tried to relax, but I could smell Lily from the other end of the couch. New day new rules I guess.
“Lily.” I moaned. “You’re supposed to use the potty.” She ignored me in favor of Yoohoo to the Rescue. I doubted my stomach could handle changing a messy diaper right now. It made me want to gag. I hid from the smell under my blanket and wondered how Debbie managed to put up with me last night. The smell alone must have been tear inducing. If I was at home my parents would have left me in the bathtub or something and sealed the door with caution tape.
I had almost fallen asleep when Debbie walked by and got a whiff.
“Woah, which one of you is that?” Lily and I both pointed at each other. “Eliza, you didn’t get sick again, did you?” I shook my head but she lifted up the blanket anyway. I was back in underwear so it was easy to rule me out as the culprit. “Lily! We were making such good progress yesterday!” She just shrugged, eyes glued to the tv. She was still in her diaper from last night, so at least it wouldn’t be the blow out from a pull up.
Debbie left for a few minutes before coming back and placing Lily’s changing mat on the floor. I was normally immune to Lily’s butt bombs, but I didn’t trust my body right now. I rolled over and hid my face back under the blanket to block out any unpleasant stimuli. I didn’t want to give my brain any reason to hit the eject button.
“Alright, Lily, you’re all set. Let’s try and make it to the potty next time.” I uncovered my head when I felt a tap on my arm. “You’re turn.”
“My turn for what?” I asked. She held up a tube of cream.
“Come lay down.”
“Oh, umm, I can do it myself.” The sight of the cream made me realize how much it still burned down there.
“Let me handle things for now until you’re more stable.” She patted the mat again. I looked at Lily, but she was glued again to the tv. I gingerly made my way to the floor, wincing at all the aches and pains. “How are you feeling?” She asked as she pulled my underwear off.
“Sore,” I replied. I audibly moaned as I tried to roll on my side. My stomach was so tender any movement made it ache. It felt like I had been doing crunches all night.
“I bet.” I heard the same elastic sound as last night and I turned my head to find her putting on a purple latex glove. “It’s going to be cold. Ready?” It wasn’t nearly as bad as last night now that I knew what was happening. “There you go.” I tried to get up, but she stopped me. “Where are you going? I’m not done with you yet.” My face fell when I saw what she was holding.
“I’m not sick to my stomach anymore.” I protested.
“And i’m very glad to hear that, sweetie, but now we have a new problem that needs addressing. You know those pills you got? They’re meant to relax your urethra, and you’re going to be drinking lots of water for the next few days. I bet you’re also tired and miserable, and going to want to sleep. So why don’t we just have you wear it just in case and see how you do. I’m quite attached to my furniture.”
“I don’t want to.” I tried to sit up, but in my current state Debbie kept me down with a single hand. “It hurts.” I groaned, holding my stomach. Trying to fight against her was a bad idea. It didn’t hurt like I was going to be sick, but I was in no shape to resist. If I wanted out of this i’d have to use my words.
I tried to talk her out of it, I really did, but in the end she managed to lift me up by the legs and slide it under me so fast I knew it pointless. One way or another I was staying in this diaper whether I wanted to be or not. With my spirit broken, I laid still and let her finish.
“I really didn’t think Lily’s diapers would fit me.” I admitted when she let me sit up.
“Of course not.” She laughed. “These are James’s”
“Oh.” I said. It made sense. “So you’re used to this.”
“Yes. James has a foley catheter, but needs diapers for solid waste.” I stayed where I was for a moment as I tried to phrase my question. Unable to make it any less blunt, I decided to just go for it.
“What’s wrong with him?” She smiled a sad smile before listing off a dozen or so conditions from seizures to multiple organ failures. She went on to explain how he spends the majority of the day connected to a TPN and how he was no longer able to absorb nutrients in the traditional sense. The number of surgeries he’s had over the years was staggering.
“Sometimes he’s lucid enough to somewhat communicate, but usually he just stares off into space. He even says random words at times, but they usually have no meaning. He had a stroke last year.”
“Does he walk at all?”
“Oh no, he’s not strong enough for that. If I stood him up, he’d fall back down. Here, let’s get you up.” She offered me her hand and managed to help me back to the couch. She came back with a bottle of water, a pill and a heating pad. I took the medicine and held the heating pad to my stomach as I settled down.”
“Lily, sweety, how about you let your sister watch tv?”
I didn’t really want to watch tv, but I wasn’t opposed to something playing in the background that didn’t have drawl of a program aimed at small children.
“Anything in particular you want to watch?”
“I don’t really care.” I said closing my eyes. “Just not a toddler program, the voices are a little too annoying right now.”
“Oh I know, you two used to love this show.” I smiled as Scooby Doo came on. James and I had definitely been nuts for it. I drifted off to sleep with the fond memories of searching the backyard jungle for monsters.
I was in and out the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. I could hear Debbie’s voice coming from the kitchen and Lily chattering on about something.
“Oh, no worries, it’s nothing serious! It’s my fault, really. I fed her a bunch of junk food and let her out on the trampoline. She got an upset tummy and threw up once. Ten minutes later and she was back out like nothing happened.”
“Lies.” A raspy voice said. I spun my head around. My mouth hung open. James was sitting in a wheelchair next to me. We stared at each other, and I saw intelligence and lucidity in his eyes. He looked awful, but he looked there.
“Can you-” He put his finger to his lips.
“Lies.” He whispered again. “Always.”
“I wouldn’t say she’s been giving me an attitude, but she does have a bit of a flair for the dramatic. When she’s with me she acts like she’s on death's door, but when she thinks I’m not looking she’s up and around like nothing’s wrong.”
I knit my eyebrows together. Was she talking about me? What does she mean I threw up once?
“I guess you could say she’s been acting out, but it’s more like immature behavior than anything. Some of it surprised me. No, no, nothing like that. It’s something I’d expect from someone Lily’s age. Well, take yesterday, she was having fun and didn’t want to come inside to use the restroom and- Yes… she did. Well first she asked if she could pee in the grass and when I said no. . .Well she’s not here right now. I let her walk down to the corner and get something to drink. She’s been complaining about the tap water… yes yes I’ll let her know you called. It’s really not a problem, Lily’s been an angel. We’ve been making good progress. Alright, you enjoy your trip.”
Was that...my mom? Why would Debbie say that? I never… well, I did technically ask to pee in the grass. And I did have an accident. And complain about the water, but the rest were lies! I felt a pang of hurt.
“Lay down.” he said. “She’s coming.”
I did as James said and Debbie walked to where we were carrying a syringe. I peeked out between my blanket to see an empty glaze in James’s face and a mouthful of drool gliding down his chin in a way that looked all too familiar. Debbie pulled the syringe out of a tube connected in his upper arm and I felt a chill run down my spine in realization. It wasn’t Jackson I had seen last night in my room. It was James. |
Today was my mom’s turn to take the stand. She looked a little pale, but other than that she kept her head up high. She had wanted me to stay home for this, but there were certain things we had never talked about. I never had gotten a straight answer as to why she had taken Debbie’s word at face value and not mine. I had begged her to call the clinic Debbie had taken me to. One phone call. That’s all it would have taken for Debbie’s story to begin to unravel.
My dad sat with me as we took our seats. It was the first time I had been so close to our former friends and neighbors, who wore “Free Debrah”, “Exodus 20:16” and “Proverbs 12:22” on their shirts. I looked it up on my phone the first time I had seen them, and they were scripture about “bearing false witness against your neighbor” and “God hates liars.”
“Don’t pay them any mind.” My dad leaned over towards me and whispered. “Look at all the people here.” I looked to where my dad was pointing. The free Debrah lot were certainly the minority today. The only ones left at this point were the hardcore believers. When the trial had first started, they had packed the courtroom, but now as medical reports, eye witness accounts, and bank statements appeared, they began to dwindle one by one. It gave me great satisfaction to see Debbie’s smug face begin to crease as she looked for her supporters.
The thing that made my blood boil wasn’t the defense trying to discredit my statement, and it wasn’t Debbie’s supporters calling me a liar as I took my seat. It was the ones who had left,
more specifically what it had taken them to leave.
Was it the evidence of Ethylene Glycol in my blood work? Nope. Was it the murder and attempted murder of her husband and sons? Nope, Think again. It was money. It all boiled down to money. She had been telling everyone who would listen James’s medical bills were running her to the ground. When it was revealed that the state was picking up the tab and Debbie hadn’t spent a cent of donation money towards him, that’s when shit began to hit the fan.
I knew Debbie’s motivations were deeper than monetary gain. I had a suspicion money was never the driving force, but more like an added bonus. In fact, I don’t think I ever saw her ask for money despite complaining of money issues. Someone else had set up the go fund me in her name, someone else organized all the fundraisers. I think Debbie just wanted the attention, and sympathy.
What no one seemed to be able to wrap their heads around was why me? Debbie had all the love, and attention and money she could get her hands on from Jame’s illness. She had spent years perfecting her story and her method. Why take such a huge risk, and a sloppy one at that, knowing my parents were coming back for me? It’s not like they wouldn’t notice I had dropped nearly 20 pounds in a month. What did she think, that they would congratulate me on my diet?
A very small part of me wonders if she did it so she would get caught. Maybe she didn’t want to kill James, but knew she couldn’t stop herself? Or maybe she was just so bat shit crazy and high on getting away with it for so long she thought she was invincible. I want to believe she poisoned me because she knew I’d run and tell anyone who would listen. Unfortunately it boiled down to the fact that I was 12 with a track record for acting out and she was a beloved member of the community.
Yesterday the defense tried to claim the faucet in the kitchen was full of lead, and without knowing, they had all been ingesting it for years. They explained why Debbie hadn’t gone sick, but her husband, Jackson and James had. Paul must have passed on a genetic marker that made them more susceptible to heavy metal poisoning. Since Debbie didn’t have that genetic marker, she was oblivious to the symptoms it was causing. When Mr. Montgomery questioned why then I had gotten sick so quickly, the defense stated my illness was unrelated. Angry that my family had left me, I must have decided to make myself a banana and antifreeze smoothie in an attempt to make them come back. Yummy.
According to the defense, I liked the attention so damn much I did it two more times. I had to ask myself, who was on trial for munchausen again here? Because last time I checked my go to after school snack had been a Pb & J sandwich and a cup of chocolate milk, hold the engine coolant. My mom was about ready to take a swing at him. Thankfully Mr. Montgomery had a witness to dispel that theory. It was one of the nurses from the clinic Debbie kept taking me too.
Debbie had made a miscalculation the first time she poisoned my water and took me in to get treated. She hadn’t expected calcium oxalate, the creator of the most common form of kidney stones, to be in my urine so fast. She had expected the doctor to give me a half assed exam given my age and lack of medical history, and write me off as another case of the flu.
That’s where the nurse's testimony came in handy, and why Debbie had wanted my pee so bad the first day. She couldn’t just give her urine and say it was mine since she was diabetic. So she had helped me again and she swapped the sample when she had taken me to the bathroom. So while the test had come back normal, the nurse had mentioned to the doctor she had doubts the urine was a fresh sample. I don’t know how she knew that, I don’t go around holding cups of people’s pee all day. So instead of relying solely on that, they had ordered a blood test, but Debbie never took me to get it done. On the third and final visit, Debbie knew she fucked up.
“Are you nervous?” dad asked. I nodded. I must have been one little hell raiser back then for no one to have believed me. I watched as my mom was sworn in, and the questioning began. Objections were flying left and right, and it was hard to keep track with everyone yelling at each other. Words were thrown around like “sustained” and “overruled”, and several times the judge made them rephrase their questions. I was impressed by my mom’s composure. I think it was taking all her willpower to keep it together at the underlining accusation that they put their vacation over my health.
“Did Debrah tell you your daughter was sick at all while you were away?”
“Yes.”
“In your own words, what did she tell you?”
“She told me the next day she ate a bunch of junk food, got too worked up and got sick. She made it clear it wasn’t anything serious.”
“And what did your daughter tell you?”
“When I talked to her a few days later she said her stomach was hurting a lot and she had been throwing up the last couple of days.”
“Why a few days later? Didn’t you talk to her the day Debbie told you she was sick?”
“No.” My mom admitted.
“Why? Didn’t you want to make sure she was ok?”
“Everytime I asked to speak with her I was told she either wasn’t there or was sleeping.”
“She didn’t have a cell phone you could call?”
“Debbie said she had taken her cell phone away for bad behavior.”
“That didn’t raise any red flags for you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because at the time my daughter was a handful. I had told Debbie to punish her if need be. Confiscating her cellphone would have been a logical thing to do.”
“So when you heard her story was quite a bit different than what you had been told, what did you do?”
“I called Debbie on her cell phone.”
“And what did she say?”
“That Eliza had been healthy, but acting out. The same thing she told me the first time I heard she had been sick.”
“And you took Debbie’s word for it, no questions asked?”
“No.”
I sat up surprised. I had always assumed Mom bought everything Debbie sold her.
“What did you do?”
“I asked to speak with my youngest daughter, Lily.”
“How old was Lily at the time?”
“Four.”
“What did Lily tell you?”
“That she was having fun.”
“Did you ask about Eliza?”
“I did.”
“What did she say?”
“I asked if Eliza had been sick and she said ‘No.’”
I remembered the moment when Lily told mom I was fine. She had been sitting right next to me as I moaned in pain and threw up on myself just an hour before. With my cellphone in Debbie’s custody, it had taken all my will power and strength to get up and get the phone. It was the first time I had talked to my mom on the phone and 90% of it was her yelling at me. When I told her how sick I really was she said she would ask Debbie about it. I had never heard their conversation, but I had heard Lily’s. My own little sister had sold me out for 20 minutes on the trampoline.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
I was starting to suspect something wasn’t right, and I wanted to investigate. By day three I was feeling much better. I was walking around pain free, and no longer having issues with my stomach. My only complaint was my constant need to pee thanks to the medication and volume of water I had been drinking. I had only been diapered that one day so Debbie could check for stones.
I knew something was wrong that first afternoon when Debbie began to pull down the front of the diaper before taping it shut again.
“Lily, do you want to go jump? Go in the backyard and I’ll meet you out there in a minute after I finish with your sister.”
“Jump! Jump!” Lily yelled as she bolted from the room.
“Have you started your periods yet?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you on it now?”
“No, not for another two weeks, why?”
“There’s a little blood, I wasn’t sure if you were squeamish or not, that’s why we’re doing it this way. How’s your pain level?”
“A six.”
“Do you want to go lay down in bed? It will be easier than getting up and down off the couch.” I nodded. The aching in my body was almost unbearable. I wanted to help James, but I couldn’t do it like this. I almost didn’t care that I was 75% sure Debbie had been talking to my mom on the phone despite her telling me I must have dreamed it.
“AHA!” Debbie said. She showed me something on the tip of her finger. It was so small I could barely see it, but when I focused my eyes, there was a tiny grey speck. “This was the culprit,'' she said. I took it and examined it closer. It was hard and sharp. She set it aside, “Hopefully, that was it and you’ll start feeling better now.”
It hadn’t been it. My day had been spent curled in a ball in bed with the heating pad, until I had finally peed out two more. That's when things had begun to calm down. When I got up the next day, I could almost move pain free. I took another day off school just in case and spent it peeing into a strainer over the toilet. No more stones came out.
Tomorrow I knew I’d be going back to school so when I wasn’t peeing my brains out, I was snooping. The problem was I had no idea what I was looking for. There were pill bottles everywhere in the kitchen, and they all said James’s name on them. I went through the cupboards, the bedrooms, the drawers, the kitchen, the fridge, the living room. I gave up. Without knowing just what I was looking for, it seemed impossible.
Instead of snooping, I’d have to go straight to the source. I asked Debbie if I could watch how she took care of James. I was curious after all and I asked a lot of questions.
“Can he really not eat or drink?” I asked as we went into his bedroom. I had watched her chop up what looked like ten different pills into a fine powder, mix it with a little water, and suck it up with a large syringe.
“That’s right, that’s why he spends so much time here connected to this.” James was lying in bed, connected to a machine which was threaded with small tubing. I watched in interest as what looked like milk was pushed through the tubing by spinning widgets and into a separate tube coming out of the side of his chest underneath his armpit. “Since he can’t eat, this machine delivers nutrients straight into his veins. This is called a central venous catheter and this is a TPN machine. It means Total Parenteral Nutrition. Without it, he’d starve.”
I was surprised when James made eye contact with me and clicked his tongue twice. I blinked.
“I think he’s trying to say hello! Didn’t you guys used to make that sound a lot when you were kids? That’s so sweet! He remembers!”
He clicked his tongue once more before looking away.
It meant something, I knew it did, but I struggled to remember. I felt better physically, but my head was still foggy. I watched as Debbie pulled the blanket down a little more to reveal another tube coming out of his stomach. She flipped the cap open and began injecting the crushed pills inside.
“What were all those for?” I asked.
“Oh different things. Seizures, iron supplement, pain medication to make him more comfortable. There’s another one that helps flush his kidneys. It’s a lot I know. Can I ask you something?”
I looked up surprised. “Uh, sure.”
“You two used to be the best of friends. What happened?”
“Oh.” I struggled to remember. “I guess we just grew apart. My idea of fun was pretty dumb and childish.”
I could hear James click his tongue twice again.
“One click for yes, two clicks for no, five knocks for danger!” I remembered him saying. We had had a code then. Was he using it? We locked eyes again. I had to test it out.
“He’s 16 now, right?” Click.
“That’s right.”
“So was he born with it?”
“Yeah,” Click. Click. “Unfortunately, there was no treatment at the time for his brother.” Click Click.
“Random question. Do you think i’ll get sick again?” Click.
“Well I hope not.” Click click. “But I really can’t say for sure. You just need to keep drinking water and flush out your system. You were probably dehydrated.” Click Click. “My someone’s talkative tonight.” She leaned down and affectionately brushed back his hair.
“I had the craziest dream last night. You put James’s medicine in my water to make me sick. “ I gave a weak chuckle for show. Debbie laughed too.
“Oh, sweetie, no. James’s medication is way too expensive for that. If I wanted to poison you I’d use antifreeze.”
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. |
I was pretty sure I had everything I needed for school. The bus would be stopping at the corner in the next ten minutes, but Debbie was still working on my note for my two absences. How hard was it to say I was sick? From the looks of it, Debbie was writing my biography. When she finished, she folded it up and sealed it up in an envelope. I frowned as I held the envelope in my hand that prevented me from reading what she had written. I watched as she took out a new piece of paper, wrote a couple sentences and handed it to me. This I could read.
To Whom it May Concern:
Please excuse Eliza Anne Thompson’s absences on Monday, October 5th and Tuesday, October 6th. She was sick and in my care.
-Debrah Martnif
“That one goes to the office, or whoever keeps track of attendance, and the other one goes to the school nurse.” She explained. I looked at the sealed envelope that said Chastity Reynolds.
“You know the school nurse by name?” I asked.
“She’s a friend of mine from church. You do go to Woodhill Jr. High, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ve just never had to see the nurse before. I’ve only been going there for three months. Why am I giving a note to the nurse though?” I asked. I’ve never had to give anyone a note to anyone but the front office before for being sick.
“I explained that you’re staying with me, and that if you came in sick and needed to come home, it’s me who needs to be called and not your parents.”
“Oh, okay.” That made sense.
“I also explained the kind of medication you’re on and that you need a special pass for the restroom.” I felt my face heat up. Now that I was well again, I was horrified that I had been in diapers the last couple of days. Okay, so that one night may have been necessary, but I totally could have gotten up and used the bathroom on the second...every ten minutes… while in excruciating pain... or maybe not.
I picked up my backpack and water bottle off the counter and headed out the door. Debbie had tried to get me to wear James’s old pull ups and I had adamantly refused. If I was getting a special pass to use the restroom during class, I saw no reason I couldn’t make it. Sure it felt like my bladder filled up to the brim every 30 minutes, and my muscles were less than helpful recently, but that was no excuse to send a 12 year old to school in a diaper. I had to change in front of other girls for P. E. and oh crap. I forgot about P.E. I debated whether or not to run back to Debbie’s and get a note excusing me from participating, but I knew the bus would be here any minute. Sure enough, I could see it coming around the corner. Oh well, I’d deal with it later.
Once aboard I sat down in an empty seat and put my headphones in. I bounced my knee to the beat of the song and contemplated what I should do about James’s situation. Was he really serious about not needing any of the stuff? Was Debbie going overboard with his treatment? I’m sure she thought she was just doing what was best for him. I was no doctor so his medical needs were far beyond anything I could ever hope to understand.
What about his warning though? He had told me everything was a lie and hadn’t I witnessed this first hand? Debbie said I had been dreaming about overhearing her talking to my parents and she was so convincing I was beginning to believe it myself. I had been in and out all day that day. It was possible I had dreamed it.
That comment she had made though about the antifreeze. It had taken me so off guard I had been left speechless. When she had turned around and saw the look on my face she had burst out laughing. She had tried to assure me over and over it had just been a joke, but I was on edge about accepting anything to eat or drink from her. The tap water never did have a funny taste after that first day though. Maybe it had been just from being sick? Nothing ever tasted right when you were sick. Try as I might I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of her poisoning us. She seemed so genuinely concerned about my well being.
As I walked up to the school I knew I had to at least tell an adult my suspicions, even if it didn’t seem likely. James had reached out to me after all. Just because I didn’t fully understand what was going on, maybe someone else would. I owed him to at least try.
After standing in line at the attendance office and handing them my note, they wrote me a pass to return to class. After that I went directly into the office, but was stopped by a bald guy with a whistle around his neck. Ugh, it was the P.e. coach.
“What are you doing in here?” he demanded.
“I need to see the nurse.” I had just seen an older lady enter the nurses offices and had assumed that was her.
“About what?”
I scrunched up my face and bit my tongue. “I need to give her a note.”
“Well, students arn’t allowed back here. Give it to me and I’ll make sure she gets it.” He went to grab the envelope out of my hand, but I pulled it back.
“No, it’s personal.”
“It’s okay, Bruce, I’m back here, let her in.” a voice called from back. “I was expecting her.”
The beefy armed man jabbed his thumb towards the back and stepped aside. I hurried past before he changed his mind and opened the door to the nurse’s office. A grey haired woman was sitting at a desk typing something into the computer.
“You must be, Eliza, Debrah texted me that you would be stopping by.” she said. “Have a seat and i’ll be with you in just a moment.” I sat in the plastic chair and waited for her to finish typing. Once she was done she rolled over to where I was sitting. “Good morning, what can I do for you?”
I handed her the envelope. She opened it and read the contents. “Oh, you poor thing. Ohh, you haven’t had a fun week so far.” I shook my head. “Yes, those will do that, not fun. Let me get you a hall pass for class. Just show it to your teachers, and they shouldn’t ask you any questions if you need to leave.” I watched as she filled out an orange slip of paper and handed it to me.
This student has permission to leave class at any time due to medical reasons.
“Now I better not hear stories of you abusing this. That pass is so you can have quick access to the restroom, or if for whatever reason, you need to come see me. She said they were in your backpack so let’s take a look.” She opened my backpack and my mouth fell open. I hadn’t put those in there so that only left Debbie… Why? “The note said you were refusing to wear them, and that’s fine if you think you can go without, but I’m warning you, if you do end up having an accident you will have to wear them. Are you sure you don’t want one now?”
I shook my head. I was sure. I wasn’t going to need them. I was still shocked Debbie had snuck diapers in my backpack in the first place. I had stuck a period pad on just to be safe. I had no idea if those absorbed urine, but it was better than nothing. As long as nothing set off my allergies and made me start sneezing and coughing I should be fine. Yesterday I had sneezed and left a dime size wet patch on the couch.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Well,” I said looking away. I didn’t know how to phrase this. I didn’t want to outright accuse Debbie of anything, especially if it really was my imagination. “I sort of have a question…”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“Say, hypothetically speaking, if I thought someone was hurting me and someone else. What should I do?”
The school nurse stared at me a moment. “I think you need to tell someone.”
“Even if it wasn’t very likely and I’d get in trouble?”
“Reports can be made anonymously. Are you in danger? Is someone hurting you? Your parents?” She eyed me through her glasses and I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.
“No, not my parents. Well, ever since i’ve been at Debbie’s I’ve gotten sick. My sister’s okay, but Jame’s said we’re in danger and-”
“Honey, I’ve met James, he hasn’t been able to speak in the last year.” I shook my head.
“He said his mom is lying about that. I’ve seen him move around as well, even though she said he couldn’t.”
“So what makes you think she’s hurting either of you? So maybe he can move a little, but Debbie doesn’t want him too because he might get hurt?” I didn’t have an answer for that. “James is very sick, honey. I can guarantee Debbie isn’t doing anything to hurt him.”
“I saw her drug him.”
“She was just giving him his pain medication. Debbie loves him very much, and James is very sick. The doctors have already said there’s nothing more they can do for him but make his last days as comfortable as possible.” My eyes were beginning to water. Was James really going to die?
“Okay,” I mumbled.
“I’m sure Debbie would appreciate you being concerned for her son's well being, but I can assure you he’s in good hands. Now is there anything else I can do for you before sending you off to class?” I shook my head and grabbed my backpack. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. My door is always open.”
I thanked her and left. The thought that Debbie was poisoning us seemed more and more silly the longer I thought about it. Of course no one would want him crawling about if there was a good possibility he could get hurt. Maybe he was just paranoid and it was rubbing off on me? Either way, I did what I could and told someone my suspicions as cringy as they may be.
The day went on with no major hiccups, other than the piles of homework I was collecting from the days I had missed. Health class wanted a 1,500 page essay on the cardiovascular system, I had three worksheets on finding the area of 3d shapes in math, and English wanted me to catch up on all the chapters of To Kill a Mockingbird I had missed. Those were just half my classes. I still had to stop by my science and geography classes at some point. I’d do that after lunch.
I nearly collapsed at the lunch table I shared with a group of girls I hung out with.
“Look who finally came to school!” Katie said. “We were starting to think you stowed away in your parents suitcase or something.”
“I wish.” I groaned. The day was only half over and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. I was starting to feel shaky on my feet. The special bathroom pass had been a god send. One minute I would be fine and the next I would be dancing in my seat.
My bladder seemed to fill at five times the speed as normal, but my bladder itself felt five times weaker. My last class I had to just walk out since I couldn’t seem to get my teacher's attention. I wasn’t in danger of having an accident until I had gotten inside a stall. My brain seemed to feel that it was close enough before giving the signal to open the gates. If I hadn’t been wearing that pad I would have had to do the walk of shame to the nurse’s office. I rolled it up in toilet paper and tossed it in the feminine hygiene products container in my stall.
My pants were a little damp after that fiasco, but it wasn’t noticeable. I figured they would dry out before the day was over.
“What happened? Were you sick?” Vicks asked. Her parents had the unfortunate timing of naming her Karen, so we as a group just called her by her last name. She seemed to appreciate this. It wasn’t her parents fault. How were they to know we would turn the name into a representation of every overly entitled american female.
“Sicker than I had ever been in my life.” I admitted. I gave them all the juicy details and they all took turns thanking me for ruining their appetite. I looked in my lunchbox to see what was there and frowned. Apple slices, baby carrots, and a salad. Where was all the good stuff? I
sighed before taking the salad out and poking at it a bit. I don’t know how vegetarians live off this stuff. It tasted like Debbie had gone out back and plucked the nearest handful of vegetation she could find before throwing it in a tupperware container. After choking down a few bites I moved on to the apple slices. I wasn’t that hungry anyway. I still didn’t trust my stomach. It had been fine the last two days, but I wasn’t in such a forgiving mood quite yet after that “pizza party” I had thrown. It had been like the 4th of July and I had been a double ended Roman Candle. I feared I was a walking bomb just waiting for something to light the fuse.
I noticed Katie squeezing something blue in her water. “What’s that?”
“Water flavoring, you want some?” I nodded eagerly. Debbie had been pushing water on me non-stop, and I was dying for something with taste. I handed her my giant hydro flask and she squirted a few pumps in. After having nothing but tap water it tasted like heaven.
“What is it? It's good.”
“Mio blueberry lemonade. I have a bunch of others at home. You can have it if you want, I'm not big on that flavor.”
“I love you,” I said to Katie as I cradled the little silver squirt bottle in my hands. I put it in my lunchbox where it would be safe and sound.
When P.e. came around, my last period of the day, I went to the nurse’s office instead.
“Eliza, what can I do for you?” She looked me over and lowered her voice. “Did you have an accident?”
“N-no!” I almost yelled. “My next class is P.E. but I can barely stand on my feet. Can I lay down until the bus comes? I'm feeling a little shaky.” In truth I was feeling a little more than shaky. My heart was hammering by the time I got here, and I had leaked from the physical strain. I had almost gotten my underwear dry too, dammit. Some of it had even gone down my leg before being absorbed by my pant leg.
“Hmm, you do look pale. Are you running a fever?” I shook my head, but she took my temperature anyway. “No fever.” I was really going to pass out if she didn’t let me lie down soon. I was breathing heavy now and gripping onto the sides of my chair for support. “You’re sweating.”
“Please let me lie down, I don’t feel well.” I blurted out.
“Of course,” she said. I stood up, but my blood pressure dropped, making my vision go hazy. I stumbled to the ground, landing in a piled heap on the floor. “Eliza!” she called. I rested my head against my arms as I waited for the room to stop spinning. “Eliza, are you okay?” She knelt down next to me and rested a hand on my back. “You’re shaking.”
“I’ll be fine in a minute.” I could feel my center of gravity beginning to return as my stomach righted itself. I ever so slowly sat myself up with her help. “Sorry, I'm still a little weak from whatever I had. I just want to lay down for a bit.”
“That’s fine, but before you do…” She said, before dropping her voice down to a whisper. “You need to get cleaned up first.” I looked down only to realize I was sitting in a puddle of my own creation. I moaned and buried my face in my hands. “It’s okay, there’s a bathroom right there. I’ll give you a washcloth and I’ll see if I can find any pants in the lost and found. I doubted kids were losing their pants, but sure enough she came back with a pair of PE shorts. She held my hand as I stood up. I tried not to focus on the sound of urine dripping on the floor as my bladder decided, “what the hell” as I stood up.
I didn’t think my face could turn a darker shade of red. I wanted to rush for the bathroom, but she held me in place for what I could only assume was an attempt to keep me from making a larger mess. The hissing sound lasted a couple seconds, but that was all it took for any ounce of dignity I had left to go flying out the window. I did my best to hold back a sob that wanted to escape my throat, and I had almost managed to do so until Vicks showed up looking for a band-aid.
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in surprise. I was the tough one in the group and the one who never cried, yet there I was bawling in a puddle of my own urine.
“I’ll come back later.” Vicks managed to blurt out before ducking back in the hallway.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay.” the nurse said guiding me into the bathroom. “Leave the door open a few inches. I want to make sure I can get to you if you fall.” She handed me a pile of things and I took them. I slid my shoes off followed by my pants and underwear. I kicked them off into a pile as I wet the rag down in the sink, sobbing as I did so. I cleaned my lower half off as best I could before sitting on the toilet.
“I really hate this medicine.” I mumbled as the rest trickled into the toilet.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!” I said before flushing. I reluctantly picked up the shorts knowing what was wrapped inside them. I sighed and pulled out the diaper. How did Debbie always know? I stuck my legs in the holes and pulled it up my waist before sliding the shorts on top of them.
“You get everything on okay?” she asked, handing me a trash bag for my clothes. I nodded and stuffed my clothes inside before washing my hands. She had drawn the curtain around the bed before helping me lay down. I hugged myself and curled into a ball facing the wall. “What happened? Did you over do it today?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “First half went okay, but I started getting light headed after lunch.”
“You should have come and laid down sooner.” she scolded. “Do you want me to call Debbie and have her pick you up?”
“No, school’s over in an hour. I’ll just lay down for a bit and take the bus home.”
“Okay, but if you come back to school tomorrow I want you more prepared. This can’t happen again.”
I woke up when someone else came into the room. “What in the world happened here?”
A deep male voice asked. It was Mr. Philips, the school janitor.
“Clean up on aisle three.” the nurse joked.
“I know it’s never a good day when I hear your voice on the walkie.” I could see him through the gap in the curtain examining the puddle on the floor with his hands on his hips. “You better tell me that’s apple juice, Charity.”
“Sure.” I saw him shake his head and drag the mop bucket over.
“Now what are you doing to these poor children to scare them into peeing themselves? I didn’t know we offered flu shots.”
Charity laughed and let out a high witch's cackle. When she stopped I heard her say in a lower voice, “got a pretty sick one in there.” Mr. Philips looked up from mopping. He made eye contact with me through the gap in the curtain and I looked away in embarrassment. “Should have stayed home another day.”
Debbie didn’t seem to need an explanation when I walked in the house with my head hung low wearing different shorts than I had left with.
“Rough day?”
“I’m gonna go lie down.” I mumbled. It didn’t take long until I was being woken up for dinner.
I poked at my food as Lily babbled to Debbie. I had taken three bites of spaghetti but even that felt heavy in my stomach. My head was pounding under the kitchen light, yet I knew I couldn’t go to bed. I was swamped with homework. I did as much as I could after dinner, but after a couple of hours I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.
In comparison to my first day back, the rest of the week went rather well, besides the two other accidents I had during gym. The pull up had absorbed them no problem without anyone being the wiser. I still felt weaker than normal, but every day I seemed to improve little by little. Things were still awkward around Vicks’, and I could tell she had told our friend group about what she saw by the way they stole glances at me during lunch. Nobody ever mentioned anything and I didn’t feel the need to explain.
Whenever I made eye contact with Mr. Philips I always looked away. I felt like he was watching me for some reason. He had even tried to make small talk with me once, but I had made up some excuse and scrambled away from him.
By the weekend I had managed to catch up on all the classes I had missed, and finished up the medication. I was so ready to throw these pull-ups away, despite the fact that they had saved me several times so far. I didn’t want to admit I had gone through more of them than my little sister. Lily was happy I was finally up to jumping with her on the trampoline again. She still insisted I teach her how to do a backflip.
For some reason Debbie had seemed a bit cold to me. It felt like she kept sending me on pointless quests to get rid of me. She wouldn’t let me anywhere near James anymore, which led me to believe the school nurse had tipped her off. Anonymous my ass I thought sourly. By the third time Debbie had sent me into the garage to find her pink hair dryer, I knew she was making it up to get me out of the house after my homework was finished. Her mood swings were giving me a headache. She had been so kind and gentle to me while I was sick, but now that I was better, she didn’t want me around.
I spent much of my time outback with Lily as I could, either jumping on the trampoline, swimming in the pool or playing under the trees the way James and I once had. Except instead of primitive natives chasing us, Lily insisted we were on our way to princes castle so she could get married. I was her bodyguard assigned to keep her safe and remind her to go potty.
“Princes won’t marry a princess who smells like pee.” I reminded her. It seemed to be a good enough reason for her. This was the closest we had ever gotten her potty trained. In less than a week Debbie had gotten farther than we had in a year. By the time my parents came home she’d probably be in panties, just like Debbie had said. I didn’t want to admit it but she had probably had less accidents than I had this week.
I had thought Debbie had been cold to me my first week being well, but by the second she was down right frigid. She had taken my phone away for texting while doing homework and once during dinner had accused me of being anorexic. I couldn’t keep the disbelieving look off my face as I was clearly chunky and overweight. I wasn’t anorexic, I was just picky as hell. She had even confiscated my Mio when she caught me putting it in my water bottle.
“That’s pure sugar!” she yelled at me. “Are you trying to make yourself sick?”
Things had grown tense and uncomfortable once again and I found myself in trouble more often than not. I came to dread when she’d hand me the phone. I wasn’t sure what she was filling my parents head with, but the only conversations I had been having with my mom was her telling me I was grounded when they got home, and to “Enjoy goofing off while you can, because it’s going to be a long time until you see the sun when we get home.” I kept telling her I had no idea what she was talking about, but that seemed to just egg her on.
For the first time this week Debbie pushed James in front of the tv in the living room next to me. I noticed he looked even worse than before. I tried asking a few questions to see if he would respond with clicks of his tongue like he did before. A chill went down my back. I looked at Debbie, but she seemed clueless as to what he was doing.
“James, honey, what’s the matter?” she whispered, ruffling his hair. He didn’t respond. All he kept doing over and over was knocking. |
I thought things had been going in the right direction, but Mr. Montgomery seemed worried. Since Debbie’s supporters were dwindling fast I thought that meant we were winning.
“Public opinion isn’t what decides a jury’s decision.” He told me. “Evidence does.”
I thought about everything that had been presented so far. We had receipts, an open antifreeze bottle under the sink, blood work results, facebook posts, you name it.
He tried to reassure me he’d get the conviction, but I could tell he didn’t have the confidence he once had.
“I don’t understand.” I admitted. “We have so much evidence.”
“Our whole case is based on circumstantial evidence. No one's saying you weren't poisoned, but our job is to prove it was her without a shadow of a doubt.”
“Her fingerprints were all over the bottle!”
“Yes, but it was her bottle. Don’t worry though, there’s been lots of cases convicted with circumstantial evidence, I just want you to be aware that it’s not a slam dunk case just because people think she did it.”
I was baffled. I thought the whole point of this was to make the jury think she did it. It seemed more complicated than I had originally thought.
“What would be considered hard evidence?” my mom asked. She sipped her cheap instant coffee from the vending machine and I nursed my coke. We had 15 minutes left of recess before court readjourned and he was coaching me again on what to say.
“We would need to be able to prove no one else had access to the antifreeze bottle but Debrah. As we know though, several people had access including neighbors coming in and out, you, your sister. The defense has eye witness claiming you poisoned yourself-”
“I did not!” I fumed. I thought of my former friends taking the stand the other day. “I can’t believe they did that to me!”
“It’s not their fault, honey. They were subpoenaed.” My mom said.
“Of course we know your drink had been tampered with, but without an eye witness, it leaves too much reasonable doubt.” Mr. Montgomery said. “You were seen by three people putting antifreeze into your drink and chugging it.”
“I didn’t know there was antifreeze in it.” I moaned.
I relaxed my clenched fists and sighed. I was really starting to hate the phrase “reasonable doubt”
“Of course you didn’t know, honey.”
“Unless we have an eye witness who saw Debbie pour the antifreeze into your drink, the best we can nail her for is negligence for leaving the bottle under the sink around children.”
It was bad timing my science class had talked about the dangers of people trying to get drunk off of household products that week. It was just my luck antifreeze had been one of such household chemicals mentioned. The defense was now claiming along with being an attention whore, I was also just plain stupid.
According to the defense, I thought it was a great idea to try and get drunk off ethylene glycol after hearing about it in science class... despite having been shown horrific images and stories of what it does to you. Just seeing that cup of activated charcoal you would have to chug to absorb the poison was enough to make you gag. That’s not even mentioning getting your stomach pumped. Oh and yeah… the whole your kidneys shut down and you die thing was also kind of a turn off.
Mr. Montgomery had done a pretty good job of shutting down their theory. If I had wanted to get drunk, I could have just gone home and helped myself to my parents alcohol stash in the cupboard. I had a key. I wanted to know who the hell thought 12 year old girls were trying to get drunk in the first place. Although...I may have sampled from the forbidden grape juice bottle. I wasn’t impressed. Grape juice wasn’t supposed to burn!
“You guys ready?” Mr. Montgomery asked. I looked to my mom for reassurance and we both nodded. It was time to talk about the second time I had gotten sick.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
I had really and truly believed that was my phone on the counter. I wasn’t trying to snoop. We had the same purple case and everything. The moment I heard the shower turn on Sunday night I had dove for it. I just wanted a few minutes to check my facebook feed. Like any 12 year old girl, tomboy or not, I was having major social media withdrawals.
When I turned it on, I realized right away this wasn’t my phone. The amount of open facebook messenger chats was staggering. I panicked. The phone kept buzzing and buzzing with incoming messages. How many conversations could this lady hold at once? I was about to turn it back off when I saw a message from someone I recognized. Chastity Reynolds. The school nurse.
I clicked on it and began to read. I was right. She had told Debbie I was accusing her of child abuse. I couldn’t believe it. This had to be illegal. Wasn’t there confidentiality laws? Wasn’t she a mandated reporter? Why would she run straight to the abuser in question and tattle?
More importantly were Debbie’s messages. My mouth almost dropped. The way she had managed to narrate the events in her favor was nothing short of pure poetry.
Debbie: I’m so over my head! I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I just want to spend the remaining time I have with James in peace. I couldn’t believe her parents just dropped them off on my doorstep and took off to Europe like I have nothing better to do.
Chastity: I can’t believe how selfish they’re being! Don’t they understand your grieving? If there’s anything at all I can do for you please let me know!
Debbie: Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you. God has truly blessed me by sending you into my life. I’m making myself sick trying to take care of all three of them. I just want to be with my boy in his final days. Eliza clearly has problems of her own, but I just can’t wrap my head around her accusations. Why?
Chastity: You poor thing, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. I don’t think Eliza understands the situation. She is just a kid. I wouldn’t worry about it, given what you’ve told me, I think it’s a mix of concern for James and a cry for attention. You were waiting on her hand and foot when she was sick, and now that your attention is back to James, she is feeling left out. With the four year old still in diapers, I have a feeling the parents aren't very attentive to them. You have an amazing heart to be caring for them the way you are, despite everything. They are truly blessed to have you in their lives.
Debbie: Thank you, but I’m so scared. What if she keeps spreading rumors and the police come knocking on my door and take James away? I couldn’t live with myself if I missed even a single minute of his life.
Chastity: Don’t worry, you just leave that to me. No one’s going to separate you two.
I exited out and began going through the other conversations. They were all filled with the same sort of thing. “There’s a girl staying with me making accusations against me. I’m so scared I’ll lose James.” They all seemed to follow the same pattern. Everyone showered her with compliments and praise and let her know she was a terrific mother. I was so engrossed I hadn’t heard Debbie come in.
“What are you doing with my phone?” she demanded.
I exited out of facebook and brought up the calculator. I showed her. “I needed it for homework and I couldn’t find one.”
“I saw you doing something, don’t lie to me.” I hung my head.
“Well, I- I just wanted to check my facebook.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.
“So you thought you could sneak it while I was in the shower?” she asked, hands on hips.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Bed. Go!” She demanded. I picked up my stuff and headed over to the back bedroom. It was only a little after eight, but I felt like I had dodged a bullet. I wondered how mad she would be if she knew I had been reading through her messages. And she had the nerve to tell me I was looking for attention? I was starting to understand why she didn’t want me around. It was so she could talk on the phone about me to her friends. She was fishing for compliments and using me as live bait.
I hugged my pillow to my chest. I still had math homework, but it would have to wait. I really did need a calculator. After the week I had, I was tired of always being portrayed as the bad guy. I really didn’t want to know what kind of texts she was sending my mom. I knew they weren't good. I started refusing the phone whenever it was handed to me, and after a few days my mom stopped asking to talk to me. I was scared to know what kind of trouble I’d be in when she got home, but I missed my parents so much. I’d deal with the consequences of whatever half truth she told them if it meant being home and feeling safe.
I was even halfway tempted to call for Lily just to feel some kind of affection. I didn’t think she was mad at me, but I knew Debbie had turned her into a pawn. Lily never left her side.
“What’s wrong, Eliza? You look down.” Vicks asked. I shrugged and took my seat. I had gotten after school detention for not finishing my math homework. Now I would miss the bus and have to call Debbie and ask for a ride.
“Rough week.” I admitted. I unzipped my lunch pail and looked inside surprised to find my container of Mio sitting there along with a sandwich, orange and crackers. I picked it up and ogled it. “That’s weird.”
“What?” Katie asked. I held up the Mio.
“The lady I’m staying with took it away because it was bad for me.” I shrugged and squirted it into my water flask. I took a swig and sighed. “Ahh, flavor.”
Vick’s let me borrow her cell phone so I could catch up on facebook. I was disappointed to find I hadn’t missed anything in a week. I half heartedly sipped on my water bottle and scrolled through the page, stopping on a picture of my parents standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. I hit the heart icon in an attempt to show them I meant no ill will. I stared longingly at them wishing they would be home soon.
“I miss you.” I wrote in the comments and hit send. I just wanted to talk to them without getting yelled at.
I was about to scroll down further, when the letters on the page began to dance and swirl. I tried blinking, but the words on the page wouldn’t sit still. I closed my eyes as the cafeteria began to sway back and forth.
“Thankth, I’m done.” I said handing the phone back to Vicks’. I rested my head in my hands trying to get the swaying sensation to stop.
“Aren't you going to eat?” Katie asked. I looked up at her. My stomach rolled with the waves of the imaginary ocean.
“N-no.” I said. I could feel myself breaking into a cold sweat. Not here. Not now. Please no. I imagined a lighter flickering to life with the fuse to my stomach just inches away.
“You don’t look so good.” Vicks said.
“I think I thould go to the baththoom.” I could hear my speech beginning to slur. I stood up and stumbled. One of my friends caught me by the arm before I could hit the ground. The flame was getting closer to the fuse. This was bad, this was very bad. If I lost control here the whole school would see. It would cause an unprecedented chain reaction that would forever go down in history.
I remember making eye contact with a pair of brown eyes across the cafeteria belonging to Mr. Philips. And then… all hell broke loose. The fuse had been lit. There was screaming, running, gagging and vomiting. I had nailed one friend from the front and the other from the back. Why oh why had I worn thin shorts today? There was a mass stampede out of the cafeteria. It was every man, woman, and child for themselves. With every exit blocked I had nowhere to go. My heart was racing. My blood pressure was crashing. I could no longer see where anything or anyone had gone. The ringing in my ears was drowning out every other noise. I collapsed to the floor in a puddle of I didn’t want to know what. It wouldn't stop.
I was convinced everyone had left me when a pair of huge, strong arms picked me up off the ground and began to run. I repaid their kindness by shitting on them with every other step they took.
“CHASTITY!” The person carrying me yelled. They set me down on the pavement before running inside. I made quick work of claiming the spot, and the surrounding area, as my own. “Over here!”
My eyes were shut tight. I didn’t want to see. Everything hurt so bad. My head, my stomach, my throat. How had things changed so much in ten minutes? What was wrong with me? I felt a pair of hands gently guide me down, and turn my head to the side so I could lay down without drowning in my own vomit.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, I heard kids screaming and looked up to find her gushing everywhere. Should we call an ambulance?”
“Let me call her guardian and see what she wants to do.”
“No,” I gasped between heaves. “Debbie did this. Hospital!” I begged. I opened my eyes to find Mr. Philips leaning over me.
“Debbie Martnif?”
“Yes.” I rasped. I could see his lips tighten in disbelief. Why would no one believe me? Why did every single person in town seem to know her? “Please help.”
“Help Is coming.” he promised. He held my hand despite it being coated in guck.
“She’s on her way.” Chastity said. I moaned.
“She’s hurting me!”
“No one is hurting you.” Chastity said.
“What’s going on out he- oh my god!” I heard a gagging sound and looked up to see the school principal. He had a fist pressed against his lips and his eyes shut tight. “What happened?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. I called her guardian, she’s on her way!”
“What was that you said about someone hurting you?” Mr. Philips asked.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Chastity said.
Mr. Philips held his hands up. “This doesn’t look like nothing to me. Let her talk.”
“This doesn’t concern you, I’ve already contacted the proper authorities. It sounds like you should be in the cafeteria where this started.”
“What is this about? Who is she saying is hurting her?” The principal stepped forward, before turning his head and fighting against his gag response with several coughs.
“The police have already investigated and found her claims to have no merit.” Chastity said.
“They’ve investigated who? Why wasn’t I informed of this before? What’s going on?”
“Because she was making outlandish claims brought on paranoia due to an illness and-”
“Lies!” I choked out. I could feel darkness closing in now and I wanted it to take me more than I’d wanted anything else. “She’s covering-” I couldn’t finish before another wave of dry heaves attacked me. I gagged, burped, coughed, choked and vomited blue stained bile.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Chastity said. “Save your strength.”
“Do I need to get the police involved?” The principal asked.
Chastity answered, “no” while Mr. Philips and I answered, “yes”.
“I’m calling.” He said before pulling out his cell phone and dialing 9-1-1. He stepped a few feet away so I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“We’re going to get you help now.” Mr. Philips said. “They’re on their way.”
“What did you take, Eliza? We need to tell the police what you took.”
“Nothing.” I whispered. “Things started moving and-”
“Did you take a pill or a tablet?”
“What?” I was so confused. Nothing was making sense. Was an ambulance coming to pick me up? I closed my eyes and refused to answer any more questions. It felt like less than a minute had passed before I heard Chastity shout. “Over here!”
“Oh my God, Eliza sweetie, what happened to you?” I could hear Debbie’s voice going in and out.
“No,” I moaned almost inaudible. “It’s her.”
“Ma’am you need to wait here, the police are on their way.”
“I can’t wait! I need to get her to the hospital!” Debbie said. She knelt down next to me and rubbed my head. “We’re going to get you help.” I kept hearing that, but here I was still lying in a pool of my own waste. “Tell them to meet me at Community Memorial.”
The only problem was she didn’t take me to the hospital. She took me back home and gave me a shower. After rinsing me off, changing my clothes and putting me back in a diaper, she drove me back to the little clinic off the avenue. She had to push me in a wheelchair to get me in the door with Lily trailing along behind us.
“Is she gonna die?” Lily asked.
“No, sweetie, she’ll be fine. She’s just having an allergic reaction.”
I wish I could say how the appointment went, but I really don’t remember. Debbie did all the talking to the lady at the front desk while Lily occasionally poked me and asked if she could have my stuff if I died. The next thing I knew I was lying down on a gurney in the back connected to an IV of fluids. After what I thought was ten minutes with my eyes closed I found myself back in the bedroom at Debbie’s.
I sat up startled. Had it all been a dream? The soggy diaper around my waist told me it hadn’t. I tried yelling for Debbie, but found I didn’t have a voice. I grimaced as I swallowed. It burned so bad. It was dark now as I tried to feel around the room. My hands felt something cool. I picked it up, unscrewed the cap and began guzzling it.
“Debbie.” I moaned, barely over a whisper. There was a baby monitor around here somewhere. Unable to yell, I took to banging the water bottle against the side of the bed until she came.
“How do you feel?” she asked, placing a cool hand against my forehead. She flicked on the light forcing me to shield my eyes.
“Bad.” I croaked. If I thought I had felt sick last time it was nothing to how I felt now. I wanted to cry from the pain. Something was pinching my wrist. I held it up to find a plastic medical bracelet tight against my skin. I tried prying it off with my hands, but I was too weak. I held up my wrist and she cut it off with a pair of scissors.
“Your wrists are swollen.” I rubbed my wrist and found I couldn’t wrap my fingers around either one of them. “Drink some more water.” I took another swig as Debbie filled me in.
They had given me some pain medicine that had made me a little too loopy. She said I had been awake for the appointment and somewhat coherent, but I couldn’t remember a thing.
“Eliza, I want you to be honest with me. Were you drunk?”
“No.”
“Did you take anything? A pill? A tablet? Did someone offer you something?”
“No.” I whispered. It hurt to get any words out, but I tried my best to explain what happened. “It was like last time. Felt bad, tried to get away, but…What’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know. Your urine came back clean this time, but they gave you another round of the same medicine as last time just in case.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after 3 am. You’ve been sleeping all day.”
I nodded and laid back down.
“You have to stop telling people I’m doing this to you. Eliza, look at me. I am not making you sick. I am not making James sick. I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but I can’t afford to have people questioning my parenting. I just want to be with James. The police came by this afternoon. I answered all their questions, walked them through James’s care, and let them have a look around. They said everything was in order and left. I hope this calms whatever suspicion you seem to have about me.”
I let out a soft grunt. I didn’t care right now. I felt like I was dying.
“We’ll discuss this later when you’re more conscious. Lay back and I’ll get you situated. You’re leaking on the bed sheets.”
I closed my eyes and was asleep before she even finished unfolding a fresh one.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
It had been another emotional day in court. I had had to relive one of my worst memories in front of a courtroom full of strangers. According to Mr. Philips, rumors of what I had done to the inside of that cafeteria still circulated to this day, spread on to the incoming 6th graders by none other than Mr. Philips himself.
“Worst day of my career by far.” he had said. “After we made sure that girl Eliza was off to the hospital, I got sent to the cafeteria. I almost threw down my mop and quit on the spot.”
“Swing by the mailbox before we get home.” My mom said. My dad pulled around the corner and checked the CBU. He flipped through the letters and I could tell he wasn’t happy with something he saw in them.
“What is it?” My mom asked him when he got back inside. He handed her the letter.
“It’s a subpoena.” He said. “For Lily.” |
I stared at the letter then back to my parents. I could feel a sense of dread begin to wash over me. My little sister? Why? She had no part in this! She was four then! Could they even mandate a seven year old to court? What about parental permission? There was no way my parents would allow this to happen!
I wasn’t particularly close to Lily. Like most teenagers, I preferred the company of my boyfriend to my bratty little sister, but now I felt an overwhelming and fierce desire to shield her from the experience. I’m not even sure if she understood what happened to me back then. The thought of them reducing Lily to tears on the stand made me feel sick to my stomach.
“Can they do this?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” My dad answered.
A quick call to Mr. Montgomery revealed that yes, yes they could.
I understood why I had to be in court. Debbie had demanded her 6th amendment right to face her accuser, and since I was the one who had blown the whistle, it had been my job to look her in the eye and say “She’s the one who tried to kill me.” I could have stopped after that, but I wanted to see this through to the end no matter how painful.
Lily though? Why would the defense of all people want her as a witness? All she would say was how much fun she had had and...oh. I realized with a sinking suspicion their motivations. “Debbie was no nice” “Debbie was so fun” “Debbie never hurt me”. It was another ploy to make her out to be mom of the year. They wanted her as a character witness.
The thought of Lily on the stand filled me with dread, but it also made me laugh a little. While she had been a little slow at first, she had caught back up with other kids her age once she had started school. Now she was a chatterbox. Good luck keeping her on topic I thought with some amusement. I could just picture the flustered look on Mr. Reynold’s face as Lily rambled off about the plot of the television show she had been watching that day instead of what Debbie and I had been up to. Debbie really could have gotten away with murder as long as she turned on the tv first.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The week had been nothing but pure agony. I had been reduced to a helpless lump on the mattress, as Debbie bathed me, changed me, fed me, and nursed me back to health. I was at her mercy, and I hated myself for not hating it. I should have been ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated. Every bone in my body screamed at me to hate her. She had done this to me. She had made me sicker than I had ever been in my entire life. I don’t know how she did it, but I knew she had. And yet… she was so gentle.
Somehow, I was no longer the enemy. She no longer picked a fight with me over every little thing. She didn’t send me out to the garage to find missing items that didn’t exist.
I wanted to swat her hand away when she tried to brush my hair, but the bristles on my scalp felt so soothing. I wanted to take a shower by myself and keep what little dignity I had, but the sensation of a warm washcloth up my back and down my arms was so relaxing. She was a different person altogether when she was caring for someone, and I was a different person when I was cared for. She had me in her hands and she knew it.
I knew in the back of my mind I was still in danger. Every bite of food she offered me, every sip of water I took from a water bottle held up to my mouth could be my last. Yet a part of me still questioned how a person so caring and gentle as her could do this to someone. The thing that still kept me grounded to reality was the diapers. I had never in my life been so sick I had to be put in diapers before coming to stay here.
I understood the first two days. Those were the worst. I was like a maple tree tapped for syrup, but instead of sweet sugary goodness, you realized the tree had been only meant for decoration to cover the sewer line running through the trailer park. I thought it would never end. Every episode left me a sniffling mess, not from embarrassment but from the burning pain. When I heard the snapping of a latex glove, I was like a dog hearing a bell, but instead of a treat I got Preparation H. I never thought I’d be so happy to have someone stick their finger on my butthole, but here we are.
On the third day, it would have been an agonizing walk, but I knew I could make it to the bathroom if she’d let me. On the fourth day, I no longer had “the runs”, but she wouldn’t let me out of the damn diaper unless I had to poop. Now I was going on a week and my mental faculties had returned. I was feeling ridiculous wearing a diaper with the bathroom a few feet away. She could at least give me a pull on so I could use the bathroom. I knew she had them.
I was still too sick to go back to school, and I dreaded showing my face there. Debbie had given me my phone back and my exorcist episode had been the latest gossip on social media. Yet not a single message from my parents. No, “How are you feeling?” No, “Get better soon.” and not a single “I miss you.” When Debbie caught me crying, I told her it was because my stomach hurt. She gave me some Ibuprofen and sent me back to bed.
“Do they know I’m sick?” I asked her when she tucked me in.
“Your parents? Yes, I talked to them on the day I picked you up from school. They haven’t called since.” She must have seen my crushed expression. “When they do get back, you’re more than welcome to visit me and James whenever you want, sweetie.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled. I couldn’t fathom what I had done to make them so mad at me, but I knew truth had always been there staring me in the face. Nothing. It wasn’t that they were mad at me, it's just that they didn’t really care. I could feel hot tears rolling down my face.
“Talk to me, sweetie.” I knew she knew it wasn’t my stomach that was bothering me.
“I’m just Lily’s babysitter to them. I haven’t had a single conversation with them that wasn’t just my mom bitching at me since they left, and there wasn’t a single text or phone call from them or my friends and I’m scared they don’t care and they’re not coming back.” The words were tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. I was crying now, unable to hold back the crashing waves of despair and loneliness I had been bottling up for so long.
“They’re coming back, sweetie, I promise. Just hang in there for a few more days.”
“A week.”
“A week, that’s right.” I felt her fingers gently sweep my bangs back like I had seen her do to James. I hated being touched, so why? Why was I putty in her hands?
“They’ll miss my birthday.” I cried. It was in three days. It wasn’t any birthday either, I would be thirteen. A teenager! Wasn’t that worth being here for?
“Well I’ll make sure you have a special birthday, don’t you worry.” I gave her a weak smile. It wouldn’t be the same.
I laid back in bed as she turned off the lights. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard my phone vibrate. I groped around the covers until I found it. It was a notification from Facebook Messenger. A small head I didn’t recognize popped up in the corner. I pressed it and the image expanded. A chill went up my back.
Eliza, this is Mark Philips from Woodcrest Jr. High. I need to talk to you-
I panicked and exited out before reading the wall of text. Why was the school janitor trying to connect with me on facebook? Was he that mad about the mess I had made so he tracked me down just to scold me? I tried and tried to work up the courage to open up the message and read it. It was the only one I had gotten after all. What was I so afraid of?
-about the incident last week. You said some things that really concerned me.
I inwardly groaned from the embarrassment. How had I been so stupid as to think Debbie would hurt us? I was ashamed of the accusations I had made based on a stomach flu and the clicking and knocking of a critically ill 14 year old boy.
I overheard your friends say you haven’t returned any of their texts or phone calls.
What texts and phone calls?
My wife works as an E.R. nurse at Community Memorial and she says you were never brought in. I know there’s other hospitals you could have been taken to, but something in my gut ain’t sittin’ right with the way this is bein’ handled. It could be me bein’ over dramatic and stickin’ my nose where it got no business bein’, but I’d appreciate you lettin’ me know you’re alright. Here’s my wife’s number. If you’re in trouble, she can get you the help you need. She’s got connections.
I smiled as I read the message. He was the first person to show any kind of concern for me. Not my parents, nor my friends had sent a single message asking me how I was feeling. What was that though about him overhearing them? What did he mean I wasn’t returning their calls? They hadn’t reached out to me in the first place.
Hi, Mr. Philips. I’m okay now, thanks for asking. I don’t know why I said what I said. She’s been really nice to me. Just forget I ever mentioned it. I wasn’t okay then. I didn’t go to the hospital. Debbie took me home to get changed, then to the urgent care. What do you mean my friends say I’m not returning their calls? You’re the first person to get a hold of me.
I fell asleep before I ever got a response. When I woke up the next day I had three missed phone calls from a number I didn’t recognize, and several messages from Mr. Philips.
She didn’t take you to a hospital straight away? Why not?
She said she tried to, but was told the wait would be too long.
I wasn’t expecting a reply back anytime soon since it was a friday afternoon, but my phone dinged only a few minutes after I had set my phone down to get changed. Since I had gotten sick this last time, I had become a frequent bedwetter. I could hold it okay during the day, although I had never really put it to the test, but I couldn’t make it through the night.
“Do you want to shower?” Debbie asked me. I nodded. My waist felt gross after spending the night stewing in my own urine. My skin was beginning to grow, puffy, red and irritated. She lowered the safety railing on the bed and walked me over to the chair in the shower. I could move around by myself, but I was having trouble first thing in the morning. I examined my ankles and wrists as Debbie adjusted the water temperature. They were still swollen and tender. Walking was a little tricky until I got the blood moving through them. I had fallen in the shower my first attempt at bathing myself, despite promising to sit in the chair. I had gotten up too fast and that seemed all the reason she needed to insist I wasn’t ready for independence.
It was still embarrassing to be seen naked, but the moment her fingers began rubbing shampoo through my frizzy, red hair and into my scalp I was compliant to her every demand. Lift my right leg? You got it. Now my left? Sure. Turn around so you can wash my back? Absolutely. Spread my legs? Okay.
“You’re antsy, what’s wrong?” she asked. I had been bouncing my leg and curling my toes for a few minutes now.
“N-nothing.” I lied. I may have emptied my bladder in the night, but the moment the shower had turned on I realized I had to go again. The diaper had already been removed, and I hadn’t even thought of it before it had been disposed of. I stared at the toilet, but I was way too shy to use it in front of anyone.
“You’re not as relaxed as you usually are.” She commented. My fists were clenched at my sides and thighs were jammed together. When she asked me to spread my legs I knew I was in trouble. I tried to stand up, but a single hand on my shoulder stopped me. “Where are you going?”
“I need to pee first.” I admitted. I thought she’d let me up and use the toilet, but she didn’t remove her hand.
“You’re wet. I don’t want you slipping. You can go after we’re done.”
“I can’t wait.” I admitted. I didn’t care now if she saw me on the toilet now.
“If you have to pee that bad then just pee here.”
“I-I can wait.” I stammered. I’ve peed in the shower before, it wasn’t just that she would see it, but she would smell it.
“I really don’t care if you pee.” Debbie said. “It’s just going to go down the drain.” I shook my head. “Okay, well. I still need you to open your legs. I noticed you were getting a rash.” I hesitated a moment before reluctantly obeying. It didn’t take long until the first leak. I jammed my legs closed and crossed my ankles out of reflex. I heard Debbie sigh. “Eliza, just pee already. What’s the problem?”
“It’s embarrassing.” I admitted.
“I have literally seen you poop on my walls. Now hurry up and go before I make you.” I felt fingers tickle my right side and I jumped.
“Don’t you dare!” I said. “I’m not ticklish anyway.” I added. It was a huge lie and she knew it.
“Uh-huh. Well, I’m going to finish your shower now, you can do what you want.” She tapped my thigh and I reluctantly opened my legs.
It only took seconds for me to realize I was fighting a losing battle. The warm water splashing between my thighs and lower half was the final straw. Without my say so, my body decided it had had enough of my head games and decided to take matters into its own hands. I sat as still as a statue, stunned and horrified as urine flowed off the edge of the chair and towards the drain. I knew I shouldn’t be embarrassed at this point all things considered, but I was mortified.
I knew something was wrong with me. How was I unable to hold my bladder for such a short amount of time? I contemplated this as I laid out on the bed letting Debbie rub ointment on the sensitive red spots on my skin.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked.
“You have a diaper rash.” Debbie said. I knew she was trying to lighten the mood.
“No, I mean. What’s happening to me? What did the doctor say? I can’t remember a thing.”
“Eliza, would you be honest with me? Do you ever feel like hurting yourself?”
“What? No? Why would I?”
“He had you fill out a mental health questionnaire, and it said your depression score was high.”
“I did? I don’t remember filling anything out.”
“I read the questions to you and recorded your answers.”
“Oh.” I said puzzled. What did this have anything to do with it?
“You admitted last night you’ve been feeling lonely and that your parents don’t pay enough attention to you.”
“Ok?”
“So, would you be honest with me?”
“About what?”
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Were you trying to get your parents to come back?”
“Debbie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, sitting up and looking at her after she finished taping the diaper to my waist. I was starting to grow irritated. Why wouldn’t she come right out and say it?
“It’s okay to admit if you were. At least we’d know what kind of treatment to get you to.” I glared at her.
“Look, all I remember is I was sitting with my friends at our lunch table, and then I started feeling sick like I had that first night. I don’t know what you’re hinting at, but I didn’t do anything.”
“Okay, okay, calm down. I’m not saying you did anything, but the doctor brought up the possibility that-”
“That what?” I was angry now. I didn’t like where this was going.
“That you might have been doing something to make yourself sick.” I could feel hot tears begin to sting my eyes. Not from sadness this time, but from anger.
“I did not make myself sick!”
“Sweetie, don’t be angry, but the timelines are a little suspicious. The day your parents leave, you make yourself sick in an attempt to make them stay. A couple weeks later, we get in a fight and you get sick again. While I was trying to figure out what happened, the school called me and said you missed detention that day. Were you just scared to tell me you got in trouble at school?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I could barely see through the tears streaming down my face, but I managed to dig through my things, pull on a pair of pants and a t-shirt, slip on my sandals and walk out the door. I couldn’t deal with this anymore. I was going home.
At least that was my plan, until I realized I didn’t have my house keys. Ignoring Debbie’s yells for me to come back, I continued my walk down the street. I pulled out a handful of change out of my pocket and waited for the bus a few blocks away. Along with my house keys, I hadn’t brought my cell phone either. If I wanted to talk to him I’d have to talk to him in person.
When the city bus dropped me off a few blocks down from my school, I sat in the grass and waited. It wasn’t a very good plan, but when school let out for the day I’d find Mr. Philips and tell him everything that was going on. Or better yet… I stood up and walked inside the library I had been sitting in front of. I found a pencil and paper and wrote out, to the best of my ability, what I thought was going on. I folded it up and wrote Mr. Philips’s name on it. Once school got out, and if I could get him alone, I'd hand it to him and he could pass it on to his wife.
When I got to the front of the school and saw who was standing out by the bus stop, my plans changed once again. I made a beeline for them. There was another conversation that needed to be had.
“Vicks, Katie.” I said. They both looked up and ran toward me. I had thought they were ignoring me, but when they both dog piled me, I knew that wasn’t so. My friends would never do that to me.
“What the hell, Eliza?” Vicks’ yelled when she stopped hugging me. “You don’t get to just shit on me and then ghost me all week!”
“We’ve been trying like crazy to get ahold of you and then you send us both this morbid goodbye text. We were starting to think you were planning on offing yourself or something.” Katie threw in.
“What?” I said. My face fell. “I came over to ask you why the hell none of you had even bothered checking up on me? I didn’t get a single text or phone call from either of you while my phone was taken away.” They both looked at each other confused.
“You mean you still haven't had your phone?” Vicks asked.
“I only got it back last night.” Katie pulled out her phone, clicked on our conversation and showed me a long string of unanswered texts begging me to call her. Vicks pulled out her phone and did the same. There at the bottom was a message that sounded nothing like me.
I want to thank you for being my friend and worrying about me, but it’s time for me to say good-bye now.
“You didn’t get any of our texts?” Katie asked. I shook my head.
“I didn’t send that message either.” I said.
“Then who had your phone?”
“Debbie.”
……………………………………………………………………………………………...
I filled my friends in on what had been going on in the last week, minus the diapers of course.
“Don’t you think it’s weird she didn’t take you to the hospital right away...or at all? Urgent care isn’t the same thing.” Katie said.
“I’m starting to.” I said.
“What are you doing here anyway? Not that we’re not glad to see you, but you still look like crap.” Vicks said.
“Thanks.” I said half joking. “I feel like crap. I came to talk to Mr. Philips.”
“The Janitor? He’s been asking if we’ve heard from you. Oh man, you missed it this week! The cafeteria was closed for two full days while they had to bring in someone special to disinfect it. I’m talking full on hazmat suits and everything! They’re saying like 20 different kids threw up. It was everywhere!”
“Including Vicks.” Katie threw in.
“You would have too if you had been standing behind her! She threw up water on you, she shat on me!”
My face turned white listening to them argue over who got the worse deal. I covered my face in embarrassment and moaned.
“Here, you really don’t look too good.” Katie handed me a water bottle from her backpack. I thanked her and took a drink. “Oh and here.” She handed me a little silver bottle and I eagerly accepted it. I squeezed it into my water bottle, shook it, and took a deep, long drink.
“I thought you didn’t like this flavor.” I asked, looking at the now blue half- empty Aquafina bottle.
“I don’t. That’s yours from last week.”
“Eliza? Are you okay? Eliza? ELIZA!”
I was unconscious before my head even hit the pavement. |
I dreamed I was with James, but we were both teenagers. We held hands on the beach as we sat in the sand, watching the waves crash on the shore. There was a strange beeping noise that didn’t fit with the scenery, but neither of us seemed to care. He wrapped one of his arms around me and pulled me closer. I rested my head on his shoulder and neither of us spoke as we watched the setting sun together. And then Debbie was there pulling him away from me.
“Why did you do it, Eliza? Were you looking for attention?” She yelled at me as she yanked him away. His hand slipped out of mine and I found myself on my back on the pavement with Debbie standing over me. “Did you make yourself sick to get your parents back?” she taunted.
I tried to yell, but no words would come. My throat felt like it had something lodged in it. Now Debbe was replaced by the school nurse. “Her claims had no merit! Eliza? What did you take? I need to tell the police what you took!”
“Why did you make yourself sick?”
“Did your parents not give you enough attention?”
“Did you take a pill or a tablet?”
“Were you scared to tell me you got in trouble at school?”
The voices continued to taunt me. I thrashed at them with my arms, but they never made contact. I tried to yell, but no sound would come out. The beeping was getting louder and louder. I was panicking now.
“Eliza!”
“Eliza?”
“Eliza?”
The room slowly began to come into focus. There was a large white stucco ceiling above me. My head throbbed as I winced at the bright fluorescent lighting. What was going on? Where was I? I could hear a steady beeping coming from somewhere to my right.
I tried to turn my head, but found I couldn’t. Something was strapped to my head to keep it in place. I tried to swallow, but found there was something in my throat. My heart rate increased as I felt a mask over my face. It was hard and plastic, connected to a tube that went into my mouth. The beeping grew louder and faster as my heart rate increased. Warning chimes began sounding. I tried to move, but found I was connected to several tubes and an I.v.
“Eliza, calm down honey, it’s going to be okay.” My eyes grew wide with fright. A woman I didn’t know was standing over me. What was going on? Why did I hurt so bad? Where was I? What happened?
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You need to calm down.” The strange lady said. How could I calm down?
I pointed frantically to my mouth.
“I know, I know. It must be very uncomfortable, but just bear with it. You’re. hooked up to a ventilator right now.” My eyes grew wide. “You’re in the hospital. I want you to blink once for yes, and twice for no. Can you do that for me?”
Blink.
“Very good, I’m going to ask you a few questions. Do you know why you’re here?”
Blink. Blink.
“You were brought in two weeks ago after ingesting Ethylene Glycol. Do you remember?”
Blink. Blink.
“Do you know what Ethylene Glycol is?”
Blink. Blink.
“It’s a chemical used in antifreeze. Do you have any idea how that got in your system?”
Blink. Blink.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember, but everything was a haze. The pain in my side was preventing me from thinking straight. I pointed to my mid section in hopes she would fill me in. I was dizzy and groggy. I put my arm down after a few seconds. I couldn’t see her anymore above me. I soon fell back to sleep.
I opened my eyes when I heard my name. My eyes filled with tears. It was my dad. I reached for him and he held my hand in his. I knew it had been a long time since I had seen him, but I couldn’t remember why.
“How are you feeling?” He asked. He brushed my hair out of my face. I reached up and no longer felt the mask over my face. I took a deep breath. My throat was raw, but the pipe was no longer there.
“Sore.” I croaked out. “What happened?” I could see his eyes fill with tears.
“We almost lost you.”
“What?”
“You went into kidney failure.” I felt my side and winced. I could feel bandages underneath my blanket. “It’s a good thing you and your mom are the same blood type. It’s probably what saved your life.”
“She gave me her blood?” I asked, still feeling woozy. I could feel myself slipping back into unconsciousness.
“No honey, she gave you one of her kidneys.”
The third time I woke up, my head was clearer than before. I wondered how long I had been asleep. I could now recall the events leading up to this. I looked around the room to find my mom sitting up in a chair reading.
“Mom.”
She looked up and smiled at me. I wondered for a brief moment if I had dreamed that conversation with my dad until I saw her grimace as she slowly got up. I ran my hand along my side, feeling the bandages there.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again! You hear me!?” Her eyes were filled with tears and so were mine.
“My pants! Where are my pants! The note!”
“The police took it as evidence.” She scooted the chair inch by inch until it was as close to my bed as possible. “I’m so confused. What happened while we were gone?”
“Why didn’t you ever call me when I was sick?” I demanded. Her face fell.
“We called almost every day, but Debbie said you wouldn’t talk to us. We didn’t even know you were sick until we got a phone call saying you were in the hospital.”
I shook my head. It had all been lies from the start.
“She poisoned me, mom. She kept me sick the whole time and told me you never called.” I was crying now. “I started getting sick the first night there.”
“Oh, Eliza.” I could see the pain in her eyes. “I didn’t know. They said you drank antifreeze on purpose.”
“No!” I nearly shouted, regretting it at once. “I’d never do this to myself.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
I was biting my nails, twirling my hair, bouncing my legs, and doing anything I could to expend this bottomless pit of nervous energy I had. I had been dreading this day all week. It was Lily’s turn to testify today. There were two other witnesses before her. Chastity Reynolds was up first. I almost hated her as much as I hated Debbie.
I watched as Chastity was sworn in and took her seat. She was the defense's witness so they started out.
“How long have you known Debrah Matif?”
“About 15 years.”
“Where do you know her from?”
“Church?”
“And would you consider yourself well acquainted with Debrah?”
“Yes.”
“How would you describe the defendant?”
“She is the most caring, selfless person on the planet.”
She gushed on and on about Debbie and how she could do no wrong. Listening to her was making me sick to my stomach. She organized bake sales to feed the homeless, car washes for youth group mission trips, and was always willing to lend a hand to those in need. By the end of it, I was feeling rather unnerved.
It didn’t get interesting until it was the prosecution's turn to cross examine her.
“Mrs. Reynolds, would you mind telling the court what you do for a living?”
“I’m a school nurse.”
“At what school?”
“Woodcrest Jr. High.”
“Isn’t that the same school Eliza went to when she fell ill?”
“Umm, yes, I think so.”
“Did you ever treat Eliza? To the best of your knowledge did she ever come to you looking for maybe something for a headache, or just to lie down.”
“I don’t recall.”
“I have here the sign in records that show Eliza checking in two times. The first time on October the 7th at 7:38 Am, and the second time on October 7th at 1:57 pm.”
“Yes, I remember now. She came in with a note from her guardian explaining why she had been out of school.”
“Do you recall the contents of that note by any chance?”
“Not really no.”
Mr. Montgomery picked up a piece of paper off the bench and held it up. He approached Chastity and held it up. “Do you recognize this? This is a copy of the letter found in your office.”
“Yes, I recognize it.”
“Can you tell me who wrote it?”
“Debra Martiff.”
“Would you mind reading the letter out loud for us?”
Chastity,
This is my neighbors daughter who is currently under my care. She has been exhibiting some strange symptoms. I am unsure if the cause is physical or psychological. I have taken her to the clinic, and they are unsure if her illness is natural or the result of self harming behavior. She is on medication for the injury she sustained. She is still exhibiting odd attention seeking behavior, such as inventing stories and pants wetting. I believe she comes from a neglectful home. In the meantime I am just following her lead and trying to give her the attention she is obviously craving. I have packed a few pull-on diapers in her backpack in case she tries anything. Also please do not worry if she tells you anything that would raise alarms. If you have any questions please call me as her parents are out of the country and cannot be reached at this time.
Debrah Martnif
“That’s a pretty odd letter to be sending the school nurse.” Mr. Montgomery said. “What did you do after reading the letter?”
“I wrote her a hall pass so she could use the restroom when needed since there was still the possibility her symptoms were legitimate.”
“Did she open up to you about anything? Did she maybe share any concerns with you?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Did she maybe ask for your advice? Or express a concern for her well being?”
“She might have. I don’t recall.”
“We’ll come back to that. So later that day, why did Eliza return to your office?”
“To rest instead of participating in physical education.”
“Did you feel she was ditching classes, or did she appear to be in legitimate distress?”
“She appeared to be in distress.”
“What happened?”
“I took her temperature. I noticed she looked very pale, and when she got up she stumbled and fell. She then proceeded to have a urinary accident, as the note said she might.”
“Did you feel her fall and accident were just for show?”
“No, she seemed visibly upset, shaken and appeared unwell.”
I cringed at the memory. I wanted to bury my head and hide as she retold the story of how I had had an accident on the floor. I felt a large arm wrap around my shoulder.
“If this is too much for you, you can always go for a walk outside.” My dad whispered to me. I shook my head and continued listening.
“Was there another time you witnessed Eliza in legitimate distress?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell me what happened.”
“Mr. Phillips, the school janitor, came running in and told me a student was outside getting violently ill. I followed him and found Eliza on the ground getting sick. I proceeded to call her guardian to see what she wanted us to do.”
“I have several witnesses claiming they heard Eliza telling them her guardian was poisoning her and that you said, and I quote, ‘The police have already investigated and the claims have been found to have no merit.’”
“I don’t recall saying that.”
“We have three eye witnesses, which leads me to believe you have heard Eliza make these claims before.”
The lawyers argued back and forth for a bit and the judge had to break it up as he chastised both of them. He then gave Mr. Montgomery the go ahead to proceed.
“So I’ll ask you again about the morning of October 7th. Did Eliza confide in you that she felt she was in danger?”
I leaned forward. I could see Chastity sweating from where I was as I inwardly praised Mr. Montgomery. It was nice not to be the one who’s testimony they were trying to rip to shreds.
There was a long pause before Chastity answered. “She asked me if ‘hypothetically’ if she thought someone was hurting her, what should she do.”
“And what did you say?”
“That she should tell someone.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That she thought her guardian was poisoning herself and the guardians son.”
“Now answer me this. Are you or are you not a mandated reporter of suspected child abuse as a school nurse.”
“I am.”
“And did you report this allegation?”
“I felt that there was no suspected child abuse.”
“But you just admitted Eliza said she thought she was being abused? How is that not enough to warrant suspicion? And what about the eyewitnesses account of you stating that the police had already been informed? Did you or did you not file a report?”
Chastity didn’t reply.
Mr. Montgomery stormed to the opposite end of the courtroom, picked up another piece of paper and slammed it down in front of Chastity. The judge gave him another warning and he apologized before returning to the task at hand. “Do you recognize these messages between you and the defendant that were pulled from her Facebook account?”
“No, I do not.”
“Are you sure, because this date stamp here says they were sent less than 30 minutes after Eliza confided in you. So not only did you fail to report suspected child abuse, but you purposefully and knowlingly went behind a childs back and told their abuser they were making accusations against them.”
“Um, well, the letter had said…”
“It gets even better! Because just two weeks later, while you are seeing for yourself that this child is critically ill, you lie about making a report in order to discredit the victims statement as the victim is lying in a puddle of her own vomit just feet away from you! Then to rub salt in the wound you once again deny the victim's plea for help and instead of calling an ambulance, you call the abuser. You let a child almost die in order to protect your friend!”
Chastity was left speechless.
“The prosecution has no more questions, your honor.”
As angry as I was at her, I couldn’t deny that I hadn’t been the only victim of Debbie’s manipulation.
I watched as another character witness came and went. I didn’t know him, and his statement made little impact on the case compared to the bombshell Mr. Montgomery just dropped. I was on the edge of my seat now. It was time for the moment that had my stomach twisted into knots. Lily’s testimony.
She came out the back when she was called wearing a little yellow dress looking like the angel I knew she wasn’t. I bit down on my lip and bounced my knee.
“Please don’t say anything dumb.” I whispered.
“It’ll be okay.” My dad said.
“What’s your name, honey?” the judge asked.
“Lily Thompson.”
“How old are you, Lily?”
“Seven.”
“Do you remember your time staying with Debrah Martnif?”
“Yes.”
“Now, Lily, do you understand the difference between the truth and a lie?”
“Yes.”
“If I told you my hair was purple, would that be a truth or a lie?”
Lilly giggled. “A lie.”
“What about if I told you my robe was black? Is that a truth or a lie.”
“Truth.”
“Very good. Counselor you may proceed.”
Mr. Reynolds approached Lily as I curled my hands into fists.
“Hi, there, Lily,” he said. His posture was much more relaxed than it had been just moments ago. “How would you describe your old neighbor, Mrs. Martnif?”
“Fun!” Lily said with a smile on her face. This was already going about as well as I expected it to.
“What did you do while you were there?”
“Umm, jumped on the trampoline, and watched tv, and we made cookies together. Oh and we went swimming.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“Yeah!”
“Now did Mrs. Martnif ever threaten you in any way?”
“No, oh wait, yes.”
“How so?”
“She said I couldn’t jump on the trampoline if I had an accident.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose as the courtroom laughed.
“Did she ever hit you?”
“We had a pillow war with the living room couch cushions. She hit me with pillows. That was fun.”
“Did she hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did you ever get sick while you were there?”
“No.”
“Did you ever feel unsafe in any way?”
“No, she had pool floaties, so ever though I couldn’t swim, I wasn’t scared.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” He said with a laugh. “Now I’m going to show you a picture of something and I want you to tell me if you’ve ever seen it before. Do you recognize this?”
A picture of the Mio bottle flashed on the screen.
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me who it belonged to?”
“My sister, Eliza. They were fighting over it.”
“Who was fighting over it?”
“Debbie and my sister. Debbie took it away from her. I didn’t think that was very nice though.”
“Why not?”
“Because Eliza only had a little bit. Debbie had an entire bottle of it under the sink. ”
The defense asked a few more questions before thanking her. My dad and I exchanged a nervous glance.
When Mr. Montgomery began the cross examination he was practically singing.
“Lily, when you said Debbie had a whole bottle of Mio under her sink. Were you referring to this?” Another picture appeared on the screen, this time of the bottle of antifreeze police had recovered from the house.
“Yeah, that.”
“What made you think this was Mio?”
“Debbie called it Get Well Juice. She would mix it in water, put it in a shot holder and give it to James so he would get better. Since my sister was sick, I wanted her to have some Get Well Juice too.”
“And how did Eliza get the Get Well Juice?”
“Well, I told Debbie she should give some to Eliza since she was sick, but she said she had already given her some on the first day with her water. One night my sister was in a bad mood, so I wanted to cheer her up.”
I could feel my stomach begin to rise to my throat as I listened.
“So I got a chair, climbed up on the counter and got the little bottle of it down. I thought if I gave it back to her it would cheer her up.”
“Go on.”
“I noticed there wasn’t much left, so I refilled it for her from the big bottle and put it in her lunch pail where she’d find it.”
I felt my heart crash as I leaned against my dad. It was my sister? My sister was the one all along?
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Lily was crying in my mother's arms in the lobby when I returned from the bathroom. When she saw me she hid her face.
“It’s okay, It’s okay baby, you didn’t know.” My mom said. It looked like they had explained the situation to her. I knew I should feel happy. She just revealed a key piece of evidence. She was the witness we needed to win this case. She saw Debbie poison James and me with Antifreeze. She had also been the reason I had almost died. I knew it wasn’t her fault, but I was too numb to feel anything. I was so confused.
I took a few steps away, but stopped when I felt Lily collide into me. “I’m sorry, Eliza.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I said, patting her head. “You did really good up there. You were just a toddler and Debbie tricked you too.”
“I just wanted you to feel better!”
I squatted down to her eye level and gave her a proper hug. “You know, Lily, if you hadn’t done that, Debbie would have for sure gotten away with everything. You might have almost killed me, but you also in a way saved me, and maybe any other future kids she might have come across. But if you could promise to refrain from putting anything else you find under the sink in my drinks, I’d really appreciate it.”
It had only taken the jury two days to come back with a verdict. I sat on the edge of the couch as we all waited with held breath as we watched the live stream from home.
“Related to the charge of felony child neglect resulting in great bodily harm. We the people of the jury find the defendant Debrah Martniff guilty. Relating to the charges of three counts of felony first degree murder. We the people of the jury find the defendant Debrah Martniff guilty.”
The house erupted into cheers. I don’t even remember standing up, but I was on my feet exchanging jubilant hugs with my family. We danced around the living room until I could no longer breathe.
“I’m so proud of you.” My mom said grabbing my face and squishing it against her palms. “I know that must have been so hard to go through. I wasn’t sure if my mom had still been harboring doubts about whether or not I had done this to myself, but now I had the peace of mind of knowing she knew the truth.
“I wish James was alive to see this.” I said solemnly.
“I know, honey, but James was very sick for a long time. There was nothing you could have done. The doctor said there was no way to reverse the damage that had already been done to him.”
“I know.” I said. I didn’t know why I had expected him to get completely better as soon as he was away from Debbie. At least I knew his last months were some of his best. He had even told me so on one of the countless trips to his hospital room, where we watched anime and cartoons together until the nurses kicked me out for the day.
“Mr. Montgomery called earlier.” my dad said, snapping my head out of the bittersweet memories.
“Oh.” I said. “What’s up?”
“He said be prepared to get a nice big check in the mail soon. The school district wants to settle out of court for failure to report child abuse. Depending on how much it is, we're thinking of opening a college fund for you.”
“I know what I’m not going to study if I go to college. Law.” My days of being in a courtroom were done.
The End |
It was night time on the planet Earth on the border to California. Inside a small hotel, an odd couple of friends were sleeping in their separate beds.
One of them was a human named Tom Wachowski, the town Sheriff of Green Hills Montana. The other was a blue alien hedgehog named Sonic, who had been in hiding on Earth in Green Hills for ten years now.
They were on a road trip together to get to Sans Francisco, to make it to the Transamerican Tower where Sonic's lost rings were located. The ride halfway to California had been long, with no stops in between until they had made it to a bar by the border, where Tom had used a pay phone to call Deputy Wade, and Sonic had snuck in the bar in disguise to have some fun. There, Tom had helped Sonic bucket list for awhile before a bar fight broke out, which Sonic completely won by planking everyone with his speed.
Now the two were in their hotel room to rest for the night for the long drive they had tomorrow. Sonic had fallen asleep instantly, Tom tucking the blanket over him, after running around the room a bit trying to entertain himself. Although he had done a few things in the room already, including a pillow fight with himself, flipping the channels on the tv crazily, and even taking a shower, there was still one thing that he forgot to do... something that he often forgets to do even after ten years of experience.
Sonic was peacefully asleep in his bed, dreaming of the great time he's been having with Tom so far, when he suddenly started squirming. At the bar, Sonic had drank a lot of Mellow Yellow, at least five cans of it. And despite the 13 year old knowing that he's a bit accident prone, he had forgotten to empty the tank before sleeping.
Sonic started squirming more, his bladder filling up of the soda quickly. In his dreams, waterfalls cascaded around him. Rivers flowed quickly by his feet. And rain poured down on him. He whimpered quickly and pressed his hands between his legs onto his crotch, trying to keep the liquid building up inside contained. In his dreams, he looked around for a place appropriate enough to pee. He was in the forest where he had hid for ten years. Sonic squeezed his legs together as he felt a surge of desperation pass through him. Unable to hold it anymore, the 13 year old rushed behind a boulder and positioned himself. Once he was comfortable, he let out a long sigh of relief as urine started flowing out of his body, splashing against the rock.
"Made it." He said to himself as he finished. But as he was cleaning himself off, he couldn't help but feel that he was dirty, as if he had actually went on himself. But that was impossible, right?
The blue hedgehog's eyes slowly started to flutter open. With his blurry vision, he looked around. He was still in the hotel that he and Tom had rented for the night. It was still night out, the clock on the bedside table reading 2:30 am. Sonic yawned and tried to go back to sleep, when suddenly, he felt odd.
He was strangely warm... warm and wet.
"*GASP* Oh no." Sonic whisper shouted as he sat up in his bed and pushed the covers off of him. There, surrounding his lower half, was a stain of urine on the bed.
It was large and disgustingly warm, as if he had went recently. Tears came to the hedgehog's eyes. He couldn't believe this happened to him again. He was too old to be wetting himself, let alone bedwetting!
What made it worse was that he was not alone this time. Before, when he was alone in his cave and he had an accident, he could just easily clean it up without the embarrassment of someone finding out. But he couldn't do that this time. He couldn't hide this from Tom.
Tom... what would he think of him when he finds out?
Either way, Sonic knew that he was gonna find out eventually, and he'd rather let him know now than wait in the morning when Tom would surely find out due to the smell. Besides, sleeping in a bed full of pee was disgusting, and Sonic was not eager to give it a try.
Sniffling quietly, Sonic got out of bed and went over to Tom. He tried to stop crying before waking him up, but the tears continued to silently drop down his face. Might as well get it over with now. But how was he to wake the Donut Lord without upsetting him?
"Meow." Sonic said meekly. It was the first thing that came to his mind. "Meow."
Tom shuffled in his sleep. Sonic's meowing was breaking through.
"Meow." He continued. "Meow."
Tom groaned and yawned, rubbing at his eyes a bit as he rolled over and faced Sonic. "Ugh, don't tell me that you actually sleepwalk and turn into a cat."
Sonic stared at the human adult and sniffed, more tears running down his cheeks. At the sight of this, Tom immediately became more concern. "Hey bud, what's wrong?"
Sonic just stood there, silently crying and staring at Tom. He wanted to tell him... needed to tell him, but he couldn't get the words out.
Realizing that something was seriously wrong, Tom pushed the covers off him and sat up, turning on the lamp beside him. "Hey, whatever it is you can tell me. What's wrong?"
Sonic opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pitiful little squeak. He started crying more, shaking and trembling a little.
"Sonic?" Tom said, reaching a hand out to the little creature. Was he hurt? Did he have a nightmare? What was wrong with him?
Then, Tom did an eye inspection on him. He immediately noticed the wet fur on Sonic's legs, mostly around the crotch area. He looked to Sonic's bed and saw the large stain on it. Putting two and two together, and Tom had an idea of what happened.
He sighed and pulled Sonic into a gentle hug. "Hey, it's ok Sonic. Accidents happen."
Sonic bit his lip and gripped onto Tom, releasing his small sobs into his shirt. "I-I'm too old to be w-w-wetting the bed."
Tom held onto the boy and gently petted his quills, softly rocking him back and forth. "Shh. It's ok bud. Accidents happen. It's not your fault."
Sonic sniffed and looked up him with tears eyes. "Y-You're not... mad? Or g-g-grossed out?"
"Of course not, Sonic." Tom frowned. "You're just a kid. Kids have accidents. We all have accidents, no matter at what age."
Sonic sniffed and wiped at his eyes, staring up at him with a wavery smile. "Thank you."
Tom smirked and ruffled his head a bit. "Don't worry about it. Let's get this cleaned up and you in a shower. Then you can sleep with me tonight."
"R-Really?" Sonic asked in shock.
"I'm not gonna let you sleep in a wet bed. That's unsanitary."
"Heh, yeah."
The two of them let go of each other and Tom got out of bed, going over to Sonic's and pulling the sheets off as Sonic went to go shower. After Sonic's had his shower and Tom had informed the front desk of the accident, the two of them got into Tom's bed together and laid down.
With covers now over them, Sonic lowered his ears a bit a snuggled up against Tom. "Hey Donut Lord?"
"Yes Blue Devil?"
"Thanks again... for everything."
As Sonic fell asleep, Tom put on a small smile and rubbed the little creature's ear, earning a soft purr.
"You're welcome." He whispered as he turned out the light and fell asleep.
The End |
(Heads up: English isn't my first language. Please excuse any grammatical errors you may find in this story.)
Our story begins in in the middle of Hoo's Woods. Princess Peach slowly descended from the sky with her yellow parasol. She landed safely and spun her parasol,revealing that it had a face.
"Here we are! Now let's see...wich way do we go?" The Parasol asked.Peach thought about it when suddenly,she heard a toad Screaming.
"Sounds like there's a toad nearby. Let's go,Perry!" Peach told the parasol. The princess started running in the direction the voice came from with a determined expression on her face. she jumped over a pipe and landed on a bridge made out of green blocks.
"Look out,princess!" Perry yelled. Peach turned around to see 3 angry koopas charging towards her. Peach jumped and landed on the koopa in the front,causing him to retreat in his shell. One of the other koopa's tried to grab her,but Peach stepped away and whacked him with Perry. she then used the shell to knock away the other Koopa.
"Dear me....the Vibe Scepter has made these Koopa's more relentless than usual...." Peach said with an exhausted tone. The Vibe scepter is a wand capable of controlling other's emotions. It's thanks to this wand that Bowser was able to storm her castle. Not only did he kidnap some of her toads,but also the Mario Bros. With nobody else left,Peach left the castle with her new friend Perry in order to save her toads and the Mario Bros.
"Wait...Princess,do you hear that?" Perry asked. Peach stayed quiet and listened. There were a bunch of squeaking noises coming from the other side of the bridge. Peach crossed the bridge to see where the noise came from and saw a bunch of bats.
"Hello there..."Peach said to the bats.
"Hello?! Anyone there?!" A muffled voice asked.
"That voice! It's definitely a toad!" Perry said. Peach leaned to the side and tried to look behind the bats,but they hovered in front of her and blocked her view.
"Umm..may i please see what's behind you guys?" Princess Peach asked politely. The bats started queaking and moving closer.
"Please? It will only take on second..." Peach asked. The bats kept squeaking and moving closer until they suddenly swarmed her.
"H-Hey! Stop that! Stop!" Peach yelled as the bats kept swarming her.
"STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" Peach said as her entire body suddenly burst into flames. The bats immediately backed away.
"THIS IS NOT HOW YOU TREAT A PRINCESS!" Peach yelled. the bats quickly flew away from the angry princess. Peach calmed down and the fire around her body disappeared. She then looked at the path the bats were blocking. There was a purple block jumping up and town and that block was repeatly saying "Is anyone there?!" "Hello?!" "Get me outta here!" Peach swung Perry and struck the box,causing it to split open and reveal a toad.
"Huh?" P-Princess Peach? You saved me! Thank you so much your highness!" The toad said. Peach smiled and gave the toad a hug. Once she let go of him,she told him to go back to the castle and keep an eye on it. The toad nodded and into the opposite direction of where peach came from.
"Another Toad rescued! We're doing so well!" Perry said.
Peach nodded and continued her adventure. She kept walking forward,looking around for any toads or enemies that might've been affected by the vibe scepter. However,she started feeling a little uncomfortable as she walked. Peach's calm expression was replaced with that of worry as she realized what was wrong; she needed to use the ladies room. About an hour had passed since she left the castle. She had just come back from a trip and didn't even have a chance to enter the castle before Toadsworth ran up to her and told her about all the chaos that was going on in the castle. Upon being informed,she left the castle without using her bathroom.
Peach stopped and looked around to see where to go next. All while having her legs crossed, which thankfully (for her) wasn't visible due to her dress. She saw a couple of Koopa's marching forward,but these didn't seem to be affected by the scepter as they were completely calm. Peach decided to leave them alone and continue exploring.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As she got further and further into the woods,Peach was feeling more and more regret over neglecting to use one of the castle restrooms. She had been exploring the woods for about an half hour and the pressure in her bladder was constantly bothering her. There were plenty of bushes that could've been used,but Peach wasn't planning on taking care of business there. not only was that unbecoming for a princess,but there was also the chance that an enemy could ambush her as she had ran into a fair share of angry enemies.
"Woah,look out princess!" Perry said. Peach stopped walking and saw a huge bed of spikes in front of her. It was too long for her to jump over,even with Perry there to slow down her descent. that's when she saw a couple of Paratroopas flying by while singing happily. That's when she got an idea. She started spinning around and singing. She spun so fast that she started flying. she started hovering over the spikes while she continued singing with joy. However,she felt a twinge in her bladder. This caused her to slowly descent.
Peach tried to ignore the pressure and kept singing. thankfully,she started rising again before her feet could touch the bed of spikes below. she safely landed on the other side and let out a sigh of relief.
"Princess? are you okay?' Perry asked.
"Yes Perry,i am fine." Peach tried to assure the parasol.
"Are you sure you highness? you almost landed on those spikes while you were feeling joy. is something bothering you?" Perry asked.
"I can assure you i am feeling fine,Perry." Peach said as she started walking again....
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"Oh....i really need to pee..." Peach thought to herself. An hour had passed and she had yet to find a way out of the woods. Her bladder was even more full and it felt like the possibility of her leaving the forest and finding a bathroom was becoming smaller and smaller. Not only that but....
"Princess,look!" Perry said,Peach looked in front of her and saw a river with a few logs floating in it. Peach gritted her teeth at the sight of the river as it only served to remind her of how badly she needed to go. Peach jumped and opened Perry,slowly descending from her jump until she landed on one of the logs. She then jumped again and landed on another. she kept jumping while trying to ignore all the signals her bladder was sending her.
she landed on the other side and kept walking while trying to ignore the river. Unfortunately for her,trying not to think about her need proved to be difficult as there were several waterfalls and rivers in these woods. with the princess having to jump over most of them. she placed her free hand between her legs and looked around. The further she into the woods,the more she contemplated peeing in the bushes. Still,she couldn't bring herself to do so,as she had to hold Perry and the thought of telling him she wanted to pee in the open was to embarrassing.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw a shadow looming over her. Peach looked up and quickly moved away from the shadow. A giant Owl landed behind peach and let out a loud "hoo".
"Princess!" another voice said. Peach looked behind the owl and saw another one of her toads on the owls back and this toad was trapped inside a green bubble.
"We gotta save that toad! Are you ready princess?" Perry asked. whoever,he could feel peach shifting a little.
"Princess?" Perry asked.
"Hmmm? Oh,uhh....yeah! Let's save the toad!" Peach said.
The owl laid a few eggs and took flight. the eggs hatched and a couple of baby owls started chasing after Peach. The princess whacked them all away with Perry. the Owl got mad and dived towards Peach jumped over the Owl and smacked it with Perry.
The Owl laid a few more eggs and took flight again. Peach destroyed one of the eggs,but the others hatched. One of the hatchings jumped on her. Right as it did that,Peach could feel a spurt escaping. Peach quickly knocked away the owl and jammed her free hand between her legs. the other baby owls jumped on her, but she smacked them all away with Perry. The owl tried to dive bomb her again,but Peach smacked it over the head again just as it closed in on her. The Owl started laying eggs again. Peach started running around and whacking the eggs before they could reach the ground. she then jumped up and smacked the owl again.
The owl landed and started jumping up and down,causing the ground to shake and causing peach to let out another spurt.
Suddenly,the floor under her collapsed. Peach and the owl fell down. Peach looked up and saw multiple eggs falling towards her. she quickly struck them away with Perry and looked up to see the owl spinning around with joy.
"Looks like it got affected by the vibe scepter too..."Perry said. the owl spun towards peach,but she managed to move out of the way in time. While the owl was under her,she smacked it on the head with perry. The owl let out another "Hoo" and tried to strike her with it's wings,but peach moved out of the way. It started laying eggs again,but peach once again struck away all those eggs with her parasol companion.
Peach took a deep breath and started singing happily,with Music notes floating around her body. she slowly started rising towards the owl. The owl laid more eggs,causing peach to lose focus.She quickly blocked the eggs with Perry and slowly descended away from the owl. Peach closed her eyes and tried her best to ignore the pressure in her bladder. She started singing again and rising. the owl laid more eggs in an attempt to take her down,but peach spun around and dodged the eggs. Peach kept rising until she was face to face with the owl and....
*SMACK!!!!!*
She swung Perry down and send the Owl crashing into the floor below. Upon colliding with the floor,it exploded. The toad inside the bubble broke free and started celebrating. Peach slowly descended from the sky and landed near the toad. Upon landing she crossed her legs and placed her free hand between them.
"Princess!" the toad yelled. Peach let out an "eep" and turned to the toad.
"Thank you so much princess! That was so scary! I am eternally grateful!" the toad said as it started jumping around. Peach nervously smiled as the toad kept praising her. She was very thankful he couldn't see her shifting her weight from one foot to the other due to her dress.
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The moon was now in the sky and the exit of the woods wasn't didn't seem to be any close. So Peach and Parry had to set up camp for the night.
Perry stared at the campfire in front of it with a smile.
"Today has been quite a day,eh princess?" Perry said.
Peach just kept staring at the campfire while nervously shaking. She was way past her limit and knew she was going to have an accident if she didn't go now.
"Princess?" Perry asked.
"Oh...uhh...yeah,it was quite though..."Peach said as she kept staring at the campfire. a few more minutes had passed and Peach could feel another spurt escaping. This one caused her to let out a moan. She quickly placed both of her hands between her legs in an attempt to regain control of her bladder.
"H-Hey...Perry? I'm...feel embarrassed to say this but....huh?" Peach stopped talking as she looked at the sentient parasol. It seemed to be deep in slumber right now. he was muttering something about a grandpa. Peach saw this as a chance to relieve herself. She slowly got up and walked away from the campfire while trying to make as little noise as possible. Once she felt like she was far enough away,she looked around to make sure she had the privacy she need.
"This is so embarrassing..." Peach said to herself as she lifted her dress,revealing some pink panties with a red ribbon on it and a wet spot. She pulled down her panties and crouched,slowly spreading her legs until her butt was hovering right above the ground. Peach looked around one more time and relaxed.A stream of pee jetted out of her body and splattered against the dirt.
"A.....Ahhhh~" Peach moaned loudly. a loud hissing sound could be heard as Peach's stream slowly darkened the dirt more and more until a puddle started forming. She let out another sigh as she continued emptying her bladder. She tried to keep her balance as she could feel her legs shaking. Peach looked around again and sighed.
"What would Toadsworth think if he saw me doing this...what would Mario think? I'm so glad i'm alone here..." Peach thought. and she was also glad that it was almost over as she could feel her stream getting weaker and weaker until only a couple of spurts came out. Peach waited for a while before standing up and pulling her panties back up. There was nothing to wipe with,so she had to deal with having wet panties for a while. Feeling more relaxed,the princess returned to the campsite where Perry was still soundly asleep.
She sat back down and looked at the sky.
"Mario.....don't worry...Just wait. I'll save you. I'll save you just like you save me...." Peach thought to herself. |
The Urinal Dare, by brucejedi
Inspired by this little gem:
“So how’d it go?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re cute when you blush, you know that?”
I cross my arms, shivering a bit. “I’m cold,” I announce.
“And why’s that?”
I gaze down. “I think you know why.”
You just sit there on the bed, waiting for me to continue. My eyelids close, my mind replaying the horrid scene.
“Describe it to me, just as it happened.”
I breath in deep, still shivering. “Well, I kind of knew we were in a bathroom, even wearing the blindfold. I could feel the tile against my sandals, but…the smell seemed different than I’m used to.”
“And then?”
“And then you let me see, and staring back was a foreign object I’d never witnessed face-to-face.”
“You’ve never seen a urinal before?”
“Why would I? I’m a girl, remember? I said, ‘Are you for real?’ and you just smirked. ‘But I can’t…I can’t use it,’ I stammered. ‘I don’t see why not,’ you had the gall to say. ‘Please,’ I said, ‘I really have to go!’”
You chuckle. “Was it all that lemonade?”
“That, and you hadn’t let me near a toilet all morning! Now I knew why.”
You touch my arm gently. “And then what happened?”
“And then you left me there, alone in that place I’d never been, feeling like a trespasser, wishing I could run after you, but knowing I couldn’t. All you said was, ‘Remember to film it.’”
“I have it queued up,” you say smiling. “We’ll watch it together later.” You watch me grimace. “Well, go on.”
“I flicked on the tiny camera you strapped to my wrist. Then I stared down at the receptacle, wondering how I could possibly do this.”
“Wait, have you ever tried it before, like in a regular toilet?”
“Umm…only once that I can remember, when I was a little girl. I was trying to copy my older brother.”
“What happened?”
“I haven’t thought about it in forever. I’m pretty sure I peed all over my legs and the floor. I remember getting in so much trouble.”
“Did you ever try it again?”
I shook my head. “Never.”
“So, getting back to today…” You squeeze my hand, and I feel my confidence build.
“Well, I was standing there, fumbling nervously with the button of my jeans. And then I heard a noise and my heart froze.”
“Why?”
“I think you know well enough. Weren’t you waiting outside in the lobby?”
“I saw him walk in on you, yes.”
“You’re a real bastard, you know that?”
“And you love me for it. Need I remind you this little adventure was your idea, not mine?”
“I said make me a dare! I didn’t think your mind was quite so twisted.”
You grin again. “So what happened then?”
“He scanned me from head to toe, like he was making sure of my gender. Then he smirked and asked, ‘Get lost, ma’am?’ I was trembling at this point. I cleared my throat, ‘No, I…I…’ He shrugged, then sauntered up to the urinal right next to mine and started unzipping his fly. He said, ‘I hope you don’t mind, miss, but I’ve gotta go.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him pull it out effortlessly and aim it towards his target. Then I gazed back down at my own, much more complicated dilemma.”
You smile at me, bringing your hand to my slender waist and pulling me close. “Go on.”
“My hands were trembling, but I managed to unbutton my jeans and slide the zipper down till it stopped. I yanked at it again, but that’s as far as it would budge, still way, way too high.”
“Girl’s jeans aren’t designed for this, huh?”
“No, honey, they are not. I glanced back at the man, who had paused his own project to stare directly at me. ‘Do you mind?’ I said to him. Now, can I ask you why they don’t just put up dividers?”
“Always wondered that myself,” you laugh.
“Well I’m sure my face turned crimson as I inched my jeans down. You know how self-conscious I can be.”
You squeeze my butt. “Ahh, you shouldn’t be. Why?”
“Shut up, you know I’ve put on some weight recently, and that’s the first place it goes… Needless to say, he had quite the view of rounded cheeks escaping from pink panties. I wish I’d worn a looser, longer shirt. Meanwhile, he remained perfectly covered, save for the dangling thing in front. So unfair.”
“And then?”
“I tried to ignore his lustful gaze as my hand surveyed the region between my legs. My line of sight was poor. All I could see looking down was cleavage poking out from my bra, and a bit of the front of my panties—his view was much better I’m sure. I felt around with my fingers. The critical area seemed finally free of my jeans, but only just. I dared not pull them down any lower, lest they slide right off my hips.”
“But what about your underwear?”
“Yeah, that. Those aren’t designed for this either, you know. All I could do is push them to the side and hope that would do.”
“So then?”
“I just stood there, trembling, wondering how in the heck I would even attempt to aim, never having needed to before. Being several inches shorter than the usual clientele, the angle would need to be quite high, 45 degrees or more. I spread my legs a bit and tried to push my groin as far forward as I could. This required bending back awkwardly at the knee, and I placed my hand on my back to steady myself. ‘Need some help?’ the man asked. ‘No…no thank you,’ I stammered.”
You stare at me with an eager grin on your face, so I continue.
“And then the man finally looked away and started peeing a perfectly neat stream right into his urinal. He made it look so easy that for an absurd moment I thought I could do that too. Not to mention, the sound of his tinkle brought back my sense of urgency. If I didn’t pee in this urinal, I might soon wet my pants. And so I released, and…” My voice trails off as a huge knot fills my throat.
“So, did you succeed?”
“Um…um…I’m sorry, it’s…it’s embarrassing.”
I’m almost ready to utter our safe word and end this ordeal, but you clutch me tight and whisper in my ear, “I know you’re embarrassed. That’s why I dared you to do it. It gets you hot. Your nipples are hard already, I can feel them digging into my chest.” You slide your tongue against my neck, causing my heart to race even faster. I breathe in deeply, resolving to continue.
“At first…at first the pee just dribbled out down my leg. Then a hard spurt shot right into my jeans, building momentum until it fanned out in all directions, spraying against my panties, the floor, the wall, everything except the basin of the urinal, itself. I clenched my thighs together and managed to cut off the stream before too much damage was done. I knew then what I’d need to do to have any chance at success, but the man was staring right at me as he peed. For him it was so easy that he could hit his target without even looking at it.”
“Not so much for you, though, huh?”
“Stop teasing me. Finally I relented, bringing my left hand—the one with the camera—way out in front of me for balance. That freed up my other hand to snake around between my legs. I could feel drops of pee everywhere. The man still had not looked away, but I spread my lips anyway, giving him an even better view. And then I reopened the floodgates.”
“Did it go any better?”
“I peed right into my jeans, which had crept back up slightly. So I tried pushing them back down, and peed right into my hand. ‘Maybe you should try sitting down next time,’ the man said, mocking me.”
“And then?
“Then some sort of miracle happened. My jeans now sitting lower (exposing most of my ass), I tried spreading my lips once again, and my wild spray suddenly coalesced into a thin stream that, at first, fell well short of its target and splashed on the floor. But I leaned back even more (almost losing my balance) and slowly pulled my fingers upward, which served to aim the stream higher. I mean, I actually aimed! I had no idea that was even possible. I stared in amazement as my pee hit the exact center of the urinal drain.”
“Oh my gosh, you did it!”
“Well…not exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
“I peed like that for only a few seconds before a new problem made itself known. I still couldn’t see much down there, but I could feel it well enough, warm wetness spreading down my thighs. Apparently, only some of my pee was shooting into the urinal, while the rest—a good portion I might add—was slowly flooding my jeans.”
“Oh my. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“Well, things were flowing too fast now to abort. So I panicked. I repositioned my fingers, trying to spread myself wider. But that made things way worse, the stream erupting back into a wild spray. I adjusted my fingers frantically, trying in vain to rediscover that one position from before, but now everything was so wet that they kept slipping around, causing pee to shoot every which way. The man just kept staring as the puddle grew around me, soaking my shoes. And then the flow began to diminish.”
“Ohh. Did that make it easier?”
“In a way, yes. The spray coalesced again, and I thought I might manage to get a bit more in the basin before it ended. But my short stature and female plumbing made that next to impossible. I tilted my pelvis as far up as I could without falling over backward, but it still wasn’t enough to clear the front edge of the urinal, and I splattered on the floor instead. I glanced over to see the man’s stream also slowing, but he just aimed his thing higher, sending every last drop into the basin. Mine lingered on, straying farther and farther from its target until I felt it spatter against my toes. As if to mock me, the final bit clung to my leg, wetting a portion of my jeans and underwear that till then had managed to stay dry.”
“Wow. Can I see the result?”
“No.”
“Come on, show me what’s under that towel wrapped around you.”
I just stand there shivering, my arms crossed below my bust. So you bring your hands to said towel… A part of me wants to resist, but another part would rather submit—and that part has long gained the upper hand. Slowly, methodically, you unwrap me, revealing the total mess I made of my clothes. On the left leg, dark streaks run past the knee. On the right, they reach far below that. You spin me around. I already know what you’ll see back there (I checked)—way worse than in front. The backs of both legs and most of the rear are completely soaked in the typical feminine pattern—like when you make me wet with clothes on. You spin me back around and slide down my zipper, revealing panties so wet they’re still dripping.
“Not bad for a first attempt,” you say. “Will you try again for me sometime?”
“No.”
“Do you think you could ever master it?”
“No.”
“Maybe I could give you some tips?”
“Right, like you know anything about it. Thank you, but I think I’ll sit like the rest of the female population.”
You smile.
I finally do too. “So, did I pass the dare, even though I made a giant mess?”
“You did, sweetheart. Now why don’t we get you out of those wet clothes…” And like a perfect gentleman, you help clean off all the sticky pee and towel me dry. But a part of me stays very, very wet.
I can only imagine what you’ll dream up next time… |
Subsets and Splits