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Chapter 2: Celebration Time
“You did well today.”, Leanne remarked. They had just agreed a deal with their new big customer. “Your input was valuable, and the notes you took throughout the meeting are very thorough.” The meeting had ended about half an hour ago, and Leanne had read through Vanessa’s notes. “However... You really need to work on being a bit more professional during meetings.” Vanessa didn’t really know what to say.” Leanne continued, “Your constant fidgeting made you come across as quite nervous and unprofessional, and it’s not what we want new potential customers to see.” “I’m sorry, Leanne. But I really needed to use the bathroom, and I didn’t know how best to excuse myself. That’s why I tried to suggest a coffee break.”, Vanessa replied. “It’s simple... you don’t. Your input during the meeting was valuable, but you’re a grown woman, Vanessa. You should be able to hold your bladder until the end of a meeting, and I’m sure you would have been able to. I must urge you to keep your composure next time. It’s important to give a professional, confident impression during these meetings, and you dancing and squirming on your chair really does quite the opposite.” “I’m sorry, Leanne. But I really only did it as a last resort. Have you never felt... desperate to relieve yourself... during a long meeting?” She felt embarassed asking the question, and Leanne’s tone made her feel like feel like a child. “Of course I have. Everyone has, at some stage. But you don’t see me hopping around on my chair or trying to interrupt important an business meeting. I’m an adult, and as such I am in control of my bodily functions.” Vanessa said nothing. Leanne’s message was clear. “Please, try to keep your composure next time.” “I’m sorry, Leanne. I’ll keep it in mind.”, Vanessa said. Even though she still didn’t know what she realistically could’ve done differently in that situation. “Good. Now, not to sour the mood. We just made a great deal happen for our company, and you did your part in it. We should go celebrate tonight!”
The company and its employees were all quite young, and aside from some minor personal grievances generally everyone likes one another and got along great. This combined with their office having its own beer tap meant everyone was always more than happy to celebrate whatever there was to celebrate at any given time. Leanne might be a bit of a hard-ass at times, but generally she really was quite easy-going and honestly just a really fun person to be around. Installing the beer tap had been Leanne’s way of celebrating the first anniversary of their company a couple of years back, and ever since it had become a tradition that whenever there was anything to celebrate (deals being closed, birthdays, new hires, company parties, or more recently even just the last evening before a long weekend was about to kick off) a beer keg would be ordered in. They’d always start with having drinks at the office, gathered around the beer tap, and by the time the beer keg was finished whoever was left would often end up hitting the nightlife.
Today was such a reason to celebrate, and true to tradition Leanne had ordered in a keg. As a nice bonus, she had also ordered in pizza. “Have some pizza as soakage, tonight we go hard cause going home ain’t an option!”, Leanne shouted excitedly. Hard to believe this is the woman who was lecturing me on professional behaviour and keeping my composure at all times just half an hour ago, isn’t it? Everyone knew Leanne and her quirks, but she was very well-liked within the company. Everyone tended to respect her authority at work and could see she generally made really good choices for business, and everyone loved spending time with her in an informal setting, too. Many even considered her a friend. Vanessa wasn’t quite sure if she was one of those people quite yet, but she definitely liked Leanne and had spent time with her outside the office at a few occasions, so she figured that maybe she was. Leanne’s insensitive attitude towards her bladder predicament earlier on didn’t quite sit well with her, but she couldn’t really hold it against her as really everyone knew Leanne for being able to keep her cool no matter how stressed she was. Then again, it wasn’t Leanne who had been about to lose control of her bladder, Vanessa thought somewhat sourly, still feeling small wet patch she had left on her underwear. Anyhow, no point dwelling on it... I’ll just have to remind myself to be smart and use the bathroom before a meeting next time. That simple, really.
Presently, people were chatting to one another, drinking beer and eating pizza. Just small talk, mostly. What they were working on, whether they had been up to anything last weekend, ... Leanne was sitting around a table with James, Emma and Rory. James was a brown-haired guy that was one year older than her. He’d started at the company about a month before her, as a website designer, so they’d clicked quite well in that for a while they had both been getting used to life at the growing start-up. Emma was a short, slightly plump woman who had recently hit 30, and had joined just 2 weeks earlier, having flown over from France for the job. As such, this was her first experience of a party at the company, with her own hiring celebration only scheduled for next week. Rory had been at the company pretty much since the beginning. He was one of the original 3 employees, and was leading one of the company’s 2 design teams, with Emma being on his team. He had red hair and was the same age as Leanne, 28. They were talking about how difficult it was to get decent housing in London, and really what a pain it was at times that their office was so centrally located due to the insane housing prices, but that at least it meant there were good public transport connections. Some people shared an apartment, others commuted from outside the city centre. Vanessa had managed to get a hold of a small studio apartment, about a 40 minute train ride away. 40 minutes by train meant that really she was quite far outside the city, but it had meant that as a recent college graduate she had been able to afford her own living space, which was important to her. Vanessa wasn’t anti-social by any means, but she would definitely classify herself as an introvert, and didn’t much feel like sharing an apartment with other people. She liked having her own space. The topic had come up because Emma had so far been living in an AirBnb, not the cheapest accommodation by any means, and was having difficulty finding a long-term place to live. She was having to choose between sharing an apartment with upwards of 4 people to get the convenience of having a short commute and being close to the action a major city has to offer, or having her own space but commuting in from further out which depending on where you were based also meant having to worry about when your last bus or train out of the city would be. “Really it depends on what’s most important to you. Would you rather have your own space, or would you rather have a busy life?”, suggested Leanne. She hadn’t quite gotten a read on Emma yet. She seemed sociable but not extremely outgoing, but then again they’d only seen each other at the office. And only for the past 2 weeks, at that. “I don’t know... I suppose it depends on who I’d be sharing an apartment with. Maybe I should go to some viewings for shared apartments and just see what I think of the people.” “Makes sense,” Rory chipped in. “And if it isn’t for you, it’s not like you’d exactly be stuck there. It might cost you some effort and a bit of money, but you could always move further out at any stage if you feel like it.” James offered “Yeah, you’re still young, too. You just moved to a new country. I feel like you should probably give the London experience a try to see if you like it, before you move further out. You might never even want to move outside the city after that.” James loved London. He hadn’t grown up here. He’d moved over from Scotland, just before Scotland had severed ties with what used to be known as the United Kingdom in order to re-join the European Union.
The night progressed from casual conversation into beer pong. It was Vanessa and Leanne on one team, and James and Emma on the other. Vanessa and Leanne had 3 cups left, but James and Emma were down to their last one. “Almost game over, James. You ready to call quits, yet?”, Leanne teased. “Definitely not. This is all part of the plan. We’ll turn this game around in no time!”, said James while throwing the ball and... missing spectacularly, hitting Vanessa’s leg. “Ah yes, I see. I look forward to seeing your plan in action.”, Vanessa said, and Leanne laughed. “Your turn.”, said Leanne, handing the ball to Vanessa and shouting “Go, girl! I have faith in you!” Vanessa threw the ball, and it went straight into James and Emma’s final cup. “Whoooooo!”, screamed Leanne, making everyone’s ears ring. “That’s two wins in a day for us! Do we make an awesome team or what?!”, she continued as she hugged Vanessa. “We certainly do,” Vanessa responded. Leanne could get so competitive and excited, but never got mean about it. Vanessa definitely had not imagined when she graduated that her future boss could go between being a total hard-ass and being such a party animal, all in the matter of an hour. She loved her job, she loved her colleagues, and with a few exceptions she loved working for Leanne.
Over the course of the night Vanessa had visited the bathrooms a couple of times, though much less than everyone else. Despite her predicament earlier today, she really did have quite a big bladder and had noticed some time ago that she usually needed to void her bladder quite a bit less often than most people around her. This knowledge also just made what happened to her during the meeting all the more frustrating. Currently, her bladder was quite full, but she didn’t feel much of a strong need to hit the bathrooms. This was helped by the fact that she was really enjoying herself.
“Alright, lads! Taxi’s outside! Go quickly cause I ain’t paying to keep the meter running waiting around for anyone!”, came Rory’s voice, shouting audibly. They promptly took the elevator down, and got into the two taxis that were waiting outside the building. It was 11.30pm, and they had emptied the beer keg about half an hour before. Vanessa wasn’t aware that anyone had called for taxis to take them anywhere, but she was quite content going along.”
“So Rory, where are we headed tonight?”, asked James. “Thought we’d hit this new club that opened recently. It’s not all that central but it’s only about a 10 minute taxi ride.” “Sounds good.” And they got on their way. It turned out to be a bit longer than 10 minutes, which really they should’ve known. It might’ve been close to midnight, but this was London on a weekday. The ride ended up taking them about 25 minutes, and by this time Vanessa’s buzz had worn off a bit and she had become much more aware of the signals her bladder was sending her. She had had... about 2 litres of beer since her last trip to the bathroom just under 2 hours ago. Yeah, that made sense. The brief moment standing in the cold outside and getting into the taxi had really made the beer run down to her bladder. Mind, she wasn’t desperate. Need I repeat, she had quite a large bladder. But it had definitely gotten to the point where she did feel quite a strong desire to relieve herself, and she was shaking her legs just slightly. Not because she needed it in order to hold it in, but just because it somehow helped her keep more comfortable. They were queueing outside the club, with about 10 people in front of them but even more behind them, when Emma said “Guys, do you think it’ll be long before we can enter? I kinda really need to pee.” “It’ll be just a couple more minutes,” Rory said. “But keep in mind that there’ll probably be a queue outside the toilets once you get in.” “Ok, thanks.”said Emma, and Vanessa noticed that she had her hands balled into tight fists and was standing very tense with her legs pressed together firmly. Vanessa went to stand closer to her and quietly asked her “Are you ok?” “Yes, I think so. I’ll be fine once I get inside. Besides, I don’t want to exit the queue now. The night would be almost over before I get in.” Vanessa felt bad for Emma, mostly because of her own predicament earlier today. Vanessa had to go too, her bladder starting to feel quite stretched, but it hadn’t reached the point yet where Vanessa felt like she had to pace or fidget or try very hard in order to keep it in.
Finally, they got to the front of the queue. “How many are in your group?” asked the guy at the entrance. “10”, said Rory. “That’ll be 100 quid, please.”, and Rory handed him a £100 note. “This one’s on the company,” said Rory, winking at them. “Could I get your IDs, please?” Everyone handed their identity cards to him. “That all looks to be in order,” he said, handing their cards back to them. “As you may or may not know, this is our opening week. So you’re all getting a free drink. Lager, prosecco, or rum & coke. Let me know what each of you would like please and I’ll go get it from the bar before you go inside.” By this stage, Emma was looking quite pale and was rocking back and forth on her legs quite visibly. “Putain... please hurry up...”, Vanessa heard Emma curse under her breath. By this stage even Vanessa was starting to get a bit uncomfortable, too, and she was pacing ever so slightly. They all made their orders, and a few minutes later they got their drinks and were allowed in. “Can you please hold my drink for me, I need to go take a piss!” said Emma, holding out her drink to Vanessa, who was a bit shocked at Emma’s directness. “I’d quite like to use the bathroom, too. But I think we might as well take our drinks with us,” Vanessa started saying, pointing her finger. “The line to the bathrooms seems quite long, and we might as well enjoy a drink while we wait. Not like it matters much anyway, once we’ve finished our drinks we’ll be able to go.” Emma groaned, and they went to join yet another queue.
The identity card based “toilet pass” system had solved quite a few problems, and had generally been a huge improvement, especially for the female part of the population. There was one case, however, where the system had decidedly made things worse for everyone. Pub and night club toilets were notorious for being filthy because people leave them in a bad state, so when the toilet pass system had become available for private businesses to use, pub and club owners had jumped at the opportunity. It gave people an incentive to not pee all over the toilet seat, even when they were drunk. No matter how inebriated people were, everyone was quite aware of the consequences if your toielt pass was void, and nobody was keen on it. That part worked well. What did not work well, however, is that to use the system, toilets had to adhere to some strict guidelines. Toilets had to be gender-neutral, each toilet had to be in its own fully separated space with its own door (no cubicles), and each of these rooms had to be at least somewhat spacious and have its own hand basin. While for public toilets in the city centre, this was amazing, in the club it just meant that toilets took up more space, so there were far fewer of them (generally just 2 or 3!), and while Vanessa had a hard time feeling sympathetic about this one, it also meant that men now had to endure the same queueing times women had had to endure for many years. The club wasn’t full by any means, but it wans’t empty. And this meant, there was quite a line outside the toilets, and it would not be getting any better as the night progressed and more people came.
And so they waited, and waited, and waited, ... by the time they were almost at the front of the line, Vanessa was mildly pacing and wiggling her hips. Emma, on the other hand, was doing a full-on peepee dance. Vanessa didn’t know whether to look away, or whether to try and comfort Emma. Emma was dancing around wildly, crossing and uncrossing her legs, crouching and getting back up, the front of her short red dress pulled up and one of her hands firmly planted on her nether region at all times. Vanessa had obviously let Emma go in front of her, but in front of Emma there were 2 more people. Vanessa thought about asking them if they might allow Emma go skip ahead of them, but the felt embarrassed asking, both for herself as well as for Emma. Besides, it’s not like they weren’t aware of Emma’s predicament. She was pretty sure most people in the club were, by now. The man and the woman in front of her had shot her glances on a couple of occasions, but neither had extended an offer to let her skip ahead. Emma was sitting on the ground, crouched, and had put her hands to her face. She was sitting remarkably still, and Vanessa could see there was a dark patch on the carpet under her. “Oh, Emma...” Vanessa put her hand on Emma’s shoulder. Emma looked up at her, tears in her eyes. “I’m so embarrassed...”, said Emma. “It’s ok. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Vanessa had by now finished her free beer, as well as Emma’s rum & coke as she had not dared to add any more fluids to her at the time already overwhelmed bladder, and these drinks too had by now made it it Vanessa’s bladder. She felt truly awful for Emma, but she still hoped Emma wouldn’t take too long getting herself cleaned up as she was looking forward to being able to relieve the pressure that had built up in her bladder herself. |
Chapter 3: Too Early To Go (Home)
It was 2:30 AM, and the club was closing. They had all had a pretty great night so far, and everyone had had plenty to drink. Emma had been feeling a bit awkward after her incident, and had avoided the rest of the group for a short while. Vanessa, noticing this and knowing why, had bought her a drink, went over to her and asked her whether she was ok. “No... I’m so embarrassed... It’s only my second week at the company and I’m sure everyone’s laughing at me.” said Emma. “Why would they be laughing at you? Do you really think I’d tell them what happened?” Vanessa asked, with a slight laugh. Nobody from their group had seen what had happened, and unless someone found Emma’s underwear in the bathroom’s bin, somehow saw she was no longer wearing any, and managed to put two and two together in their inebriated state, nobody would ever know.“Thank you so much... I was so worried... And I feel like such a child. I can’t believe I... did that.” “Hey, it’s ok. I had a pretty close call too, recently. You were just unlucky. Those queues were way too long and nobody has any right to judge you for what happened.” Upon this reassurance, Emma spontaneously hugged Emma. Vanessa hugged her back. “Come on, let’s go and dance.” After this, Emma had seemingly felt much better, and everybody had had a great night. Presently however, the club was closing. This meant 2 things; it would be impossible to get a taxi anywhere for the next half hour or so, and massive queues were building up outside the toilets inside the club as well as the nearest public toilet outside.
“The night’s still young! Anyone feel like having a few more drinks over at my place? It’s not big, but a few of us will fit!” came Leanne’s voice. They had just exited the club. “I’m in!”, said James. “Yeah, I’ll go for a few more drinks,” said Jane, who was the company’s entire IT department. “Anyone else?” asked Leanne. “Come on, Vanessa! This celebration is as much yours as it is mine!” “Honestly, I’d love to. But I live pretty far out and I need to catch my last train.” responded Vanessa, to which Leanne said “You know what, you can stay over at my place, if you want. Will you come have another drink with us?” “Leanne, don’t you live in a studio apartment?” asked Vanessa. “I do... but I have a double bed, and I trust you to not murder me in my sleep.” Vanessa was a bit wary at the idea of sleeping in the same bed with her boss, but she was also having a great time and wasn’t ready for the night to end yet. “Ah what the hell, sure let’s go.” said Vanessa, and Leanne cheered “Before some of you go home, I’d just like to tell you all you can have the morning off tomorrow. I don’t expect anyone at the office tomorrow until around 1 in the afternoon. And just to give you all some motivation to conquer the hangover to come, burgers on me for everyone who makes it in to the office by then!” This was met by cheers from most of her colleagues. Did I mention yet Leanne really is quite fun to work for? And with that, Vanessa, Leanne, James and Jane set off, and everyone else went home. “It’s no use trying to get a taxi right now, so everone ok if we just walk? It’s only about 20 minutes.” said Leanne, and nobody objected.
And sure enough, 20 minutes later they arrived at Leanne’s place. The building her flat was in was really quite old, but her apartment looked nice and relatively modern. It was a studio apartment, meaning everyhing was in a single space, with the only doors being the entrance to her apartment and the bathroom. There was a small but functional kitchen and a couch on one side of the room, and a bed and a TV on the other. It was quite small, but there was just enough space for there to be a small table with 4 chairs in the middle of it all, without it being in the way or obscuring the view to the television from the couch. “Have a seat,” Leanne said, immediately opening the fridge and taking out 4 beers. “I imagine you don’t mind if I use your toilet before we start drinking more?” asked Jane, out of politeness. “Ah yes, how dare you even ask that.” Leanne said jokingly. “Obviously, go ahead.” and she waved to the door next to the one they had just come in through. Jane went to the bathroom, closed the door and... wow, that was loud. This being a studio apartment, there wasn’t a lot of sound insulation between the living space and the bathroom. It basically sounded as if Jane was peeing with the door open. Vanessa quite liked her privacy, but honestly it’s not as if it was going to deter her from using the toilet. They were all waiting to be able to relieve themselves anyway, copious amounts of drink from the club still making its way into each of their bladders. And the walk through the outside cold had not helped. James went in after Jane, and then it was Vanessa’s turn to relieve herself. She hadn’t been needing to go all that badly, but it felt good.
They continued talking and drinking for a bit under 2 hours. It wasn’t a mad party anymore, nobody was dancing, but everyone was having a good time. During this time, everyone had finished several more beers (Leanne had really filled up her fridge with beers beforehand), and trips to the bathroom were very frequent. They were very frequent... except for Leanne, Vanessa noticed. In all this time, she hadn’t gone once, despite drinking just as much (and probably even more) as everyone else. Meh, maybe she has actually gone, but just didn’t notice she had. It’s not like I’m paying attention to it, or anything. she thought, but she also doubted it... people’s streams were very audible and frankly hard to ignore.
“Alright, it’s been great fun, but it’s actually starting to get light outside,” said James, pointing out the window, through which some just the slighest bit of light was starting to come in from the sky outside. “and I should probably head home if I want to make it into the office by 1 for those burgers.” he continued, winking at Leanne. Vanessa checked her phone and saw that it was 5 in the morning. “Yeah, best I probably head home, too.” Jane said, getting up and almost losing her balance. Everone was pretty drunk, by this stage, but nothing crazy had happened, which Vanessa guessed was a good thing considering they were also all still colleagues. “Before I go, I’m just going to make one more tripto your bathroom.” Jane said, and she went in. “So are you sure you’re ok with me sleeping in your bed?” Vanessa asked, looking at Leanne. Leanne started answering “Of course-”, and suddenly as Jane’s stream hit the water in the toilet her face contorted and she lurched forward just slightly, her left hand balled up tightly in a fist. “Of course, Vanessa. You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” Leanne succeeded in saying this time. As soon as it had happened, Leanne had regained her composure and there was no longer anything that would indicate something was wrong. “Thanks so much, Leanne. Guess I’ll definitely be on time for those burgers tomorrow.” Vanessa wondered what had just happened. Leanne’s sudden spasm had looked like she had been about to wet herself. Considering Vanessa was quite sure she hadn’t used the bathroom in at the very leats the last 2 and a half hours, this made sense. But why wouldn’t she just use the bathroom? She was at home, after all. The toilet was right there.
After James and Jane had left, Leanne opened her wardrobe and handed Vanessa a pair of pyjamas. “I’m not sure whether you prefer to wear pyjamas or not. It can get quite cold in here during the night though.” and Leanne went into the bathroom with her own pair of pyjamas. Leanne expected to hear a thundering stream hit the toilet bowl, but a minute later Leanne came back out wearing her own pair of pyjamas, evidently without having felt the need to relieve herself. Vanessa went in after her to use the toilet and change into her own pair of pyjamas. When she came out out of the bathroom, Leanne was in her bed and told her “Turn off the lights whenever you’re ready.” Vanessa switched off the lights and got in bed next to her boss. She felt slightly awkward about it, but truth be told she was fairly inebriated by now and didn’t care all that much. She put her head down on the pillow and fell straight asleep.
Vanessa awoke around 11 that morning. She had slept... ok, she guessed. Truth be told, Leanne had woken her up a lot during the night. Not on purpose, but Leanne had moved around a lot, constantly turning around or wiggling into a different position. “How did you sleep?” asked Leanne, who had apparently been awake already and noticing that now Vanessa was, too. “Not amazing, probably due to the amount of drinks we had last night though” she lied. Speaking of drinks, those very drinks were signaling they wanted to get out of her badly. She started getting up and out of politeness asked “How about you? Hope I didn’t keep you awake or anything.” “Not too great, I’m afraid. I found it hard to get comfortable. Not your fault, though. As you said, it’s probably the amount of drinks we had last night.” Vanessa went into the bathroom. The second she had closed the door, she plopped down onto the toilet and allowed herself to relax. However horrible it felt to be holding a full bladder, the feeling of emptying said bladder was utter bliss. Right now, she was in heaven, and she let out an almost inaudlble moan as what felt like at least 3 of last night’s beer came gushing out of her.
She exited the bathroom and Leanne told her “If you want breakfast, there’s cereals, bread and spreads in that cupboard if you want any.” “Thanks, but I’ll wait for the burgers, I think. Do you mind if I use your shower?” she asked. “Go right ahead.” “Would you like to use the bathroom first?” “No thanks, I’m good.” Leanne said, and Vanessa remembered that she hadn’t seen Leanne go to the bathroom since they exited the club 9 hours prior. With the amount of drinks they had all had, there was just no way... Leanne didn’t know whether to be impressed or worried. But she decided it would be uncomfortable to ask, and Leanne was still her boss at work, so she headed into the shower.
When Vanessa got out of the shower, it was 11:30. Leanne was in the kitchen, putting a slice of bread into the toaster. She looked very tense, however. “You sure you don’t want any breakfast?” Leanne asked. “No thanks, could I take a glass of water though? Just tap water’s fine.” “Sure, glasses are in that cupboard.” Leanne said, pointing at a cupboard above the sink. “So how’s your head today?” Vanessa asked. Truth be told her head wasn’t feeling amazing when she got up, but the shower had helped a lot. “I’m pretty ok, actually. Just tired is all.” resplied Leanne. Vanessa held a glass under the tap and, still looking at Leanne, opened the tap. The moment water started coming out the the tap, Leanne bent over, her hands on her legs, breathing heavily, face contorted heavily. It was like she had been hit with a whip. Vanessa turned off the tap and put down the only half-full glass she was holding. “Are you ok?” asked Vanessa, slightly shocked. “I’m fine. Don’t mind me.” Vanessa noticed Leanne had her legs pressed tightly together. “Leanne... do you need to use the bathroom?” “No-” Leanne started, and she stopped herself. “Yes. I do. I really do.” she said, looking up at Vanessa, and Vanessa was shocked to see tears in Leanne’s eyes. “Then why don’t you just go?” Vanessa asked, puzzled. “I’m sure you’ve noticed there’s almost no sound insulation. I can’t relieve myself when everone can hear me, it’s impolite!” Vanessa was startled. “Leanne... what are you worrying about? It’s your home! We all used the bathroom plenty of times yesterday. We know it’s quite... audible. But so what? It’s not as if you can hold it in indefinitely anway.” “I figured I could hold it in until we got into the office... or maybe at least until the nearest public toilet. But it hurts so much...” Leanne was still breathing heavily. “So... are you going to continue holding it?” Vanessa was feeling a bit awkward. She couldn’t belueve Leanne had actually been holding it in for all this time, and was still doing so! And it was hurting her, badly by the looks of it! “I...” Leanne stammered, and she went into the bathroom, still bent over and only taking small, quick steps. Leanne closed the bathroom door and a few seconds later Vanessa heard... a trickle. Only a trickle?! Her stream picked up steam, however, and a few seconds later the thunderous roar of water hitting the toilet bowl at high velocity echoed through the door. Holy shit. This thunderous roar went on for a solid minute, before subsiding to a more normal stream and finally stopping entirely after just under 2 minutes total. Vanessa was in awe, as well as worried for Leanne health. Some part of her was also... jeaulous? How it must feel. part of her thought. However, she did not envy the amount of pain Leanne must have been in just minutes before.
About a minute or so later, Leanne came out of the bathroom and said “That was impolite of me. I should have kept my composure, and I’m sorry.” She sounded so business-like. “Leanne, oh my goodness. Are you kidding me? Were you actually holding it since we left the club?” “Yes...” Leanne replied, looking slightly embarassed. “Even though you were in pain, you kept hiding that you had to go at all?” Vanessa asked, incredulously. “Well yes, I’m a grown woman. I should be able to control my bladder. It was impolite as well as unprofessional to show my discomfort to you.” Vanessa didn’t know what to say. “I know this is probably uncomfortable or even out of line, but... holy shit, Leanne. I don’t know about unprofessional or impolite, but I.... I’m amazed. But also, you’re crazy.” Leanne smiled, and said “All the best people are.” It was clear neither of them knew what to say, and it was making them both uncomfortable. So even though there were so many things she wanted to ask, Vanessa put it aside and said “So, shall we head into the office?” “Sure, let’s go.” |
"This is your captain! We will be landing to the deserted island soon,please prepare for landing!" The voice in the intercom said.
Claire opened her eyes and looked out of the window. She had a nice view of the clouds that floated past her and the sea below. and somewhere on that sea,was a deserted island that she was going to move to. After several years of living in a small town and after having visited Tortimer Island multiple times,she decided she wanted to move to an island herself. She looked around to see all the other animals that were on the plane with her. Clair sat more upright and felt a sudden twinge in her body. She had been in the plane for several hours and she had drank a few cups of vacation juice during the flight. At some point during the flight,she fell asleep and was suddenly woken up by the voice of the intercom.
"I repeat! We're about to land. Return to your seat to the upright position and make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened!" The voice said. Claire sighed and fastened her seatbelt. She crossed her legs and closed her eyes again.
"It's fine...we're about to land. i'll just use the bathroom when reach the island." Claire thought. All the other villagers went back to their seats and waited for the plane to land.
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The plane had finally landed and Claire (along with the other villagers) was currently making their way through the Dodo Airlines hallway to pick up their luggage.
"Where are the bathrooms in the place....?" Claire thought as she looked around the hallway. There's was no door in sight. not even a sign.
"come to think of it,the building looked pretty small from the outside. DO they have a bathroom in here?" Claire asked herself. She went entered the lobby of the building and picked up her stuff. She looked around and the other villagers exiting the building. Claire shook her head and followed them.
"I guess i'll have to hold it for a bit longer." Claire said. She exited the building and saw Timmy and Tommy,the young assistants of Tom Nook.
"We're here!" Timmy yelled with excitement. "Now i know you must be incredibly excited to explore your new island home,but i have one small request. Would you please join us for a short orientation session in the nearby plaza. Our fearless leader himself will be giving a small presentation, so i'd hate for you to miss it."
"Gosh,i hope they actually keep it short. i really need to pee." Claire said as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She and the other villagers followed to twins to the plaza of the island where Tom Nook was waiting.
"Okay. Is this everyone? let's see..." Tom Nook said as he started reading a list. Claire clutched her bag and looked around the plaza,trying her hardest to ignore all the pressure her bladder was sending her.
"Claire?" Tom Nook said.
"Oh uh..here!" Claire said her hand.
"Great,we're all here. Yes! Yes! Very good! Let's see,how shall i begin....oh of course! Welcome to your new island everyone! My name is Tom Nook and i'm the founder and president of Nook Inc. Yes,yes!"
Claire groaned and kept looking around. All she saw were trees and a bunch of weeds. no buildings in sight other than Nooks tent and Dodo Airlines.
"I guess i shouldn't be surprised,this IS a deserted island....Still,there's gotta be a bathroom around here somewhere...." Claire thought.
"Please collect your tent from Timmy and Tommy and choose a spot to place it." Tom Nook said,catching Claire's attention. All the other villagers lined up and grabbed their tents. Claire took hers and started looking for a spot to place it. At the same time,she used this as an opportunity to look around some more.
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But the only thing that she saw were even more weeds,peach trees and a river that reminded her of how badly she needed to go. she eventually settled for a spot to the east of the island. She hadn't explored the north yet,but there was the aforementioned river in the way and there were no bridges she could cross to reach the other side. And she didn't want to jump and risk falling in the river. after setting up camp,Claire crossed her legs and looked around. She was getting pretty desperate now and the sound of the river did not help at all. Why couldn't Nook have placed a porta potty somewhere around here? She returned to the plaza and told Tom Nook that she found a spot. However,the other villagers hadn't returned yet. So Tom Nook suggested she'd go help the other villagers find a spot. She obliged and went to look for the other Villagers. She then walked around with them and helped them choose a spot. Unfortunately for her,She had to constantly listen to the river that was always nearby. Thankfully,finding a spot for the villagers didn't prove to be to difficult,as they seemed to be fine with whatever spot she recommended. With that done,she decided to return to the plaza. She looked at the sky and by the looks of it,the sun was starting to set.
"Man..time sure flies..." Claire thought. She felt another twinge in her bladder,causing her to shove her hands between her legs.
"Please,let this all be over!" Claire thought as she walked quickly to the plaza.
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"Excellent job everyone! With all of that,we can move on to more serious business....LIKE THROWING A ISLAND-WARMING PARTY!We will be needing some supplies first. and since we will all be living here together,this will be a good test of our teamwork!" Claire groaned.
"Why?! I just want to pee!" Claire thought. The looked at the trees and blushed. Looks like she was gonna have to do it behind one of those...
".......Meanwhile,Claire and i will be putting work in gathering firewood and some snacks! Claire,can you come here for a moment?" Claire nodded and nervously approached Tom.
"I think about...10 tree branches should do the trick. think you can also find Peaches for us while you're at it?" Claire just nodded and walked away from the plaza. She went up to a tree and started shaking it. However,rocking her body back and forth like that sent another wave of pressure through her body,causing her to briefly cross her legs and fidget a little. She looked on the ground and saw some peaches along with a few branches.
"At least this shouldn't take to long. just gotta do this for a few more trees and then it'll finally be over..." Claire said bent over to pick up the branches and fruit. And with that,she went up to another tree and shook it while trying to ignore her bladder. She picked up the food and the branches and then made her way back to the plaza. She approached Tom Nook and gave him all the stuff the picked up.
"Excellent job,Claire! I'll go make preparations!" Tom Nook said and headed to his tent. Claire walked away from the plaza with both her hands between her legs. Once she was far away from the plaza,she hid behind a tree and looked around to make sure to coast was clear. She unbuttoned her pants and she was just about to unzip when.....
"Hey! Uhh...Claire,right?"
"EEP!" Claire quickly crossed her legs and tugged her shirt down to try and hide the unbuttoned pants. She turned around to see Dizzy the elephant standing there.
"Oh uhh...Dizzy,what are you doing here?"
"I was just about to ask you that...." Dizzy said.
"Oh i was....just..uhh...looking at the weeds. Yeah,i couldn't help but notice all these weeds..." Claire said as she pointed at the weeds. She smiled nervously hoping that her excuse would work.
"Ah...yeah,someone really needs to clean this place up! I think i might do that tomorrow once i'm done setting up everything!" Dizzy said with a smile.
"Ahh...h-how nice..." Claire said nervously.
"Oh...looks like everyone is done,shall we go back?" Dizzy said. Claire nodded and followed the elephant back to the plaza. She may have been smiling now,but inside her head she was screaming.
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It was now night time and a big campfire had been created in the middle of the plaza. After everything they've done,Tom nook thanked the villagers and asked them what they wanted to call the island. After discussing and voting,the everyone decided to go with Claire's idea: Peachville. Tom Nook smiled and placed his hand on claire's shoulder.
"Claire,since you've proven yourself by naming our island and since you've helped us with so much,i'd like to rely on you for other critical decisions we'll need to make on this island. I hereby name you the Resident Representative of Peachville!" Tom Nook said. This caught Claire off-guard,but she didn't really mind. The only thing that was bothering her right now was her bladder. the other villagers clapped and cheered for her.
"Claire,could you please say a word or two as the new spokesperson for your neighbors?" Tom asked.
"Uhh....."Claire tried to think,but her need to relieve herself made it very difficult to think...
"A...word or two?" Claire said with a grin. The other villagers laughed and clapped for her once again.
"Okay,with everything settled. it's been a big day,but it's getting late,so let's have a toast!" Tom said as he and the young nooks started handing out drinks made from the Peaches claire collected. Clairy crossed her legs and reluctantly took the drink.
"Without further ado...a toast! to Peachville and the happiness of its residents!"
"CHEERS!" Everyone raised their glasses and chugged down their drinks. Claire looked at her class and slowly moved it towards her mouth.
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"GOTTAPEEGOTTAPEEGOTTAPEEGOTTAPEEGOTTAPEEGOTTAPEE!" Claire thought as she ran to her tent with her hands between her legs. That Peach drink had only filled her bladder even more and right now she was at her limit. She arrived at her tent and quickly went behind it. The sight of the river near it nearly made her lose control.
"I can't hold it! I gotta go now..!" Claire said as she quickly unbuttoned her shirt and looked around. Everyone else was still at the plaza celebrating,but Tom Nook had given her permission to go home and rest. She quickly yanked her pants and panties down and squatted. Almost immediately,she led out a spurt of urine. That spurt quickly turned into a powerful stream of piss. Claire gasped as she let her floodgates open,realising all the urine she had been holding for the entire day. A feeling of relief went through her body as her bladder started shrinking,causing her to let out a loud sigh.
"Aaaaaaaahhhh....Finally,Sweet relief...." Claire said to herself as her pee splattered against the grass below. She closed her eyes and relaxed her she continued emptying her bladder. She let out another sigh and looked at the moon.
"I can't believe i was able to hold it for the entire day...." the girl said to herself.
"Excuse me? Claire? Are you there?" Claire's eyes widened.
"Tom?"
"Oh? Are you behind the tent?" Tom nook said.
"Wait no,Don't-" Claire tried to stop Tom nook,but it was too late as she could see his shadow getting close.
"Miss Claire,i wanted to give you this.....Oh my!" Tom Nook said as his eyes widened.
"DON'T LOOK!" Claire yelled as she covered her butt. Tom Nook quickly backed away from the tent and waited. Claire covered her now-red face and waited for her bladder to be completely empty. After a few seconds,her stream had finally stopped. Claire stood up and shook her rear a little. There was nothing to wipe with and the idea of using weeds made her cringe a little. She pulled up her underwear,put her pants back on and zipped it. Tom nook turned around and saw Clairy approaching him with a blush on her face.
"I am SO sorry. i really needed to go and...." Tom Nook interrupted her and bowed.
"No,no,no. I have to apologise for this. We really should've placed some toilets around here before you and the other villagers showed up." Tom Nook said as he scratched his nose.
"Uh...i came here to give you this camping cot,you're gonna need something to lie down on,right?" Nook said as he gave her the cot. Claire took it and thanked Tom Nook.
"Once again,i'm sorry. I'll try to have some toilets transported here as fast as possible." Tom Nook said.
"Thanks...have a good night." Claire said. Tom Nook bowed and left the tent. Claire entered the tent and placed the camping cot down. after that,she unpacked some of her stuff and turned on her lamp. Once everything was settled,she laid down on her new camping cot and closed her eyes.
"Today was a stressful day. not how i wanted to start this new life. But hey..tomorrow is a new day." Claire said to herself as she slowly drifted to sleep. |
Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this latest commission of mine and please drop me a message if you want your own! 🙂
Enjoy! :
The Desperate Surfer
Grace Taylor was beaming with delight. After months of poor weather, the seas were finally ready for proper riding again. A twenty-three-year-old professional surfer, she had been coming to Cornwall every summer for the last ten years, practicing and delighting in her favourite hobby since her early teenage years. It all started when her older brother had bought her a surfboard for her birthday and taken her on a day out to the beach in Cornwall. She hadn't expected to like it that much but the first time she held onto her board as she ascended over a wave, she had felt a rush like nothing else in this world, and despite falling off less than a few moments later, she was hooked for life.
Grace was a gorgeous young woman. An intense exercise regime had given her a water-board stomach, as well as toned, sexy, and extremely long, smooth legs. Standing naked in her bedroom, her brown hair, with streaks of blonde, ran down below her shoulders and shone in the morning sunlight. Her breasts were smooth, perky, and perfectly shaped, with rays of sunshine glinting off them through her open window.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled with pride at her body. Over the years, she had inspired enormous jealousy in other women, as men they liked and even their boyfriends on occasion fell completely head over heels for Grace. Losing her virginity had been less of a challenge to find the right man and more picking and choosing from over two dozen willing candidates.
The first guy had been a disappointment, losing control and releasing over her breasts halfway through. The second man had done the same when she had stared deep into his eyes with her extremely dark brown ones. Thankfully, the third had finally done the job and satisfied her, as she lost her virginity on a beach, near the ocean and under the stars, to a fellow surfer soon after her sixteenth birthday.
Prom had been an exercise in fighting off men who wanted to dance with her for a while and then rip off her blue silk dress at the afterparty, while college had given her a string of relationships, most of which fulfilled her needs well enough. The same issue always arose however: No matter who they were, Grace was always more of a free-spirit than them and always had a greater partner than any of them. Despite having had several men and the odd woman, Grace's true love was the oceans.
In contrast to the deep blue seas, nothing else could compare. The way the cold chill gave way to ecstatic joy as she rose in a wave, the exhilarating sense of danger from being inside a wave, the joy at pulling off a 360-degree turn to hundreds or even thousands of onlookers; sometimes even cheering her name. They would applaud, buy her drinks; most with the intent to get her into bed, a lucky few succeeding. Yet more than the applause, it was the sense of freedom. If she could have spent the rest of her life, riding on the edge of an endless wave, she would do it in a heartbeat.
Nowhere else did Grace Taylor feel so alive.
Even so, she was still sensible enough to keep up a broad income and did amateur modelling to fund her surfboarding and traveling lifestyle, having recently scored a contract with FireWire Surfboards; for which she had been paid handsomely. It probably helped that; upon being given some ‘Insider Knowledge’ by her fellow surfer friend Melanie Rivers, she’d flashed both the photographer and company boss; on different days, revealing her gorgeously soft-breasts to them, while posing in revealing wetsuits next to their branded boards.
Thanks to that, she’d made twice the amount of money for that job she’d been initially promised; already a strong salary to start with, setting her up for the entire rest of the year to surf. A few of her friends had called her, Melanie and a couple of others out on performing sexual favours for advantage but Grace didn’t see the problem. She’d break the hand of anyone who tried to touch her without consent. She would do far worse to any man or woman who dared the same with one of her friends. But, if people wanted her, she was in the mood and they were either hot, wealthy, friendly or all of the above: Why not?
Two months out of the year, she spent working, visiting family and generally off the beach. Yet elsewise, she spent all her remaining time there, traveling to the beach or with groups of friends who were part of the surfing community. She had been to thirteen countries, chasing waves in Australia, Hawaii, the United States; on both coastlines, as well as having competed in over fifty regional, national and international tournaments but she had always had a soft spot for where it had all started: Right here in Cornwall.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Grace grabbed her wetsuit and sighed as she began her least favourite part of surfing. To put it simply: Getting into her gear was a nightmare. Sitting down and sliding her legs inside the tight black Lycra bottom half, they made it smoothly up to her knees before she had to begin wiggling and squirming to get the rest of her inside.
'Come on, you bitch!' moaned Grace, as the lycra finally slid over her bum.
The upper portion of her wetsuit was mixed colours, grey up to and above her breasts with light and dark blues running along the sides of her chest and back; as well as dark blues extending down the arms. Despite the colour change, getting this portion on was no easier than the bottom half had been, as she fought to get her arms and chest inside the wetsuit comfortably. Having to pull on the material several times so that it was comfortable and not crushing her boobs, she eventually succeeded and did a small fist punch to the air in joy.
'Hell yeah! Beaches, here I come!'.
Racing down the steps of her cottage; left as an inheritance by her grandmother, she passed through the kitchen and just as she was about to exit, swung herself back and grabbed a small tub of pills. They were vitamin supplements, which helped keep her body healthy and free of infection via contaminated seawater; as well as keeping off any excess weight.
Unbeknownst to Grace, when she had ordered them online, she had neglected to notice a small but important side effect of the pills, which was to act as an exceptionally strong diuretic. Oblivious to this, she palmed three pills and swallowed them effortlessly, before putting on a pair of white trainers; her favourite running shoes, and heading towards her car.
Minutes later, Grace was speeding down the road in her bright green Fiat, with her red cherry surfboard attached with strong ropes to the top of her car. As she continued down the motorway, she found that she had an unusually strong need to piss. Squirming to get comfortable, Grace found that she was unable to shake the growing need that she had to pee and found herself fidgeting even more as she became more and more desperate for the toilet.
'What the hell? What am I, five?!' laughed Grace as she fidgeted in her seat.
Her self-deprecating humour began to cease as she continued to feel increasingly desperate. She couldn't understand it. She had used the toilet less than an hour and a half ago, before putting on her wetsuit. She had a strong bladder generally and was used to going long hours at the beach without bathroom breaks, yet here she was squirming around in her car seat like a ten-year-old girl, struggling not to wet herself.
Crossing her legs relieved the pressure temporarily but soon enough she found that she had to change position from the groin discomfort in her bladder and after a while, her legs were crisscrossing repeatedly. Bouncing up and down on her seat, her perky bum shaking uneasily, Grace was beginning to get seriously concerned that she wouldn't be able to hold on until she reached the beach. A two-hour car journey would normally be nothing to her, however, right now, it felt like there was an iron ball in her bladder, pushing against her stomach to get out and she had barely even driven for half-an-hour.
Grace could not remember the last time that she had been this desperate. She hadn't had an accident since primary school, where she was too nervous to ask where the toilets were and could only make it two-thirds of the way through the day before her then tiny bladder gave in and she had soaked her schoolgirl skirt and tights in front of her teacher. She’d been desperate a few times in school growing up or on really long surfing trips when she got high.
However, she rarely even got to the level of urgently needing a bathroom. Yet for whatever reason, Grace realized that if she did not stop soon, she would lose control for the first time since childhood.
'Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, I need to pee so fucking badly!'.
Spotting a sign that indicated a fuel station was only twenty miles away, Grace decided that, reluctantly, her surfing would have to wait a few extra minutes while she took an unscheduled bathroom break. The only question now was whether she could make the distance before for her bladder emptied of its own accord. Grace spent the next half hour or so squirming, fidgeting, tightly closing her legs, and holding herself between them; one hand stuffed tightly between her thighs while she swore at traffic.
‘Don’t think about it. I don’t need a wee, I don’t need a wee… fuck, I do need a wee! Ah, fuck this hurts!’.
The young surfer’s whole body was fighting against itself, the diuretics trying to force their way out of her system, while everything else held it all back in. The subsequent result was that her growing desperation continued to get worse, yet through her sheer force of will, she held on and soon, had reached the turnoff to the fuel station.
'Thank fuck!' moaned Grace, relieved to have finally made it, though the thought of having to run across a busy car park and store to reach the toilets; while this desperate, made her blush with embarrassment. Mentally preparing herself, Grace imagined taking her hands from between her legs, walking normally into the garage and approaching the toilets: Occupied. No problem, she could wait an extra minute or two… wait, why did she feel so wet all of a sudden?
‘Miss, why are you peeing on the floor?’ asked the station attendant.
Snapped out of her daydream instantly, Grace shuddered at the thought and clamped her legs tightly together, trying to prepare more sensible for when she would have to act at least semi-casual to reach the bathrooms with her dignity intact. Unfortunately, as she pulled into a parking spot next to the fuel station, she spotted a sign that made her incredibly angry:
'Employee toilets only, no customers allowed.’
'Are you fucking kidding me!' screamed Grace, before freezing in shock as she felt a burst of piss escape from inside her and leak into the wetsuit.
The sensation warmed her pussy in an unnatural feeling way, spreading around her crotch and slightly soaking between her trembling butt-cheeks. Grace blushed bright red inside her car, almost the colour of her own surfboard, as she realized that she only had minutes before she completely lost control and didn't have time to find anywhere else to go.
Deciding that she could sweet-talk the petrol station manager into letting her use the toilet; well aware of the effect a young woman in tight lycra had on most guys, she stepped out of the car and; preparing to charm the manager she had briefly spotted on her way in, removed her hands from between her legs and prepared to walk into the station.
She’d managed to get into exclusive London and San Francisco Nightclubs before by flashing her boobs and once; when really drunk, her pink lace knickers under a tight white skirt, at the club bouncers. She was certain that she could persuade a random petrol station attendant, on minimum wage, who probably didn’t give a shit about the rules of some monolithic corporation he was a part of, to let her use the toilet. She’d puff out her chest, put on a sweet voice; try and remain as still as possible, then he’d let her go and she could finally get the relief her body was craving.
It would be easy.
Grace made it about three steps forward before a huge four-second stream of pee escaped from her bladder, completely soaking her crotch and bum, before running down the sides of her legs. Caught completely off guard, Grace froze as her whole body began to shake violently and the gorgeous twenty-three-year-old surfer began to suffer a major accident. Unable to hold on even a second longer, Grace felt a hot wetness expanding around the crotch of her wetsuit and looked down in horror as she felt piss soaking her pussy, drenching her bum and running down the back of her legs.
The tight lycra contained her accident and instead of soaking into the outer layers of her outfit, her piss was forced completely down her legs and exited in thick, yellow waterfalls around her ankles and flooded over her white trainers; forming a growing puddle around where she stood.
When most girls wet themselves, they end up standing in small puddles of their shame and soaked clothing; with dark wet patches spread all over their light blue jeans or whatever other clothing they are wearing. Grace's accident was very different. While her wetsuit was now damp to the touch, her black lycra barely revealed any difference in contrast to before Grace lost control. The puddle around her however told a very different story, a huge pool of piss extending multiple ft. around her in all directions.
'Oh my god!', whispered Grace still not quite comprehending that she had completely wet herself for the first time in years.
Standing in a daze, Grace was snapped out of her trance when she heard the sound of an automatic door opening and; terrified that it was the manager, leapt out of her puddle and practically jumped into her car, her lycra-clad wet bum squelching against the seat in a way that made Grace cringe in disgust. Igniting the car's engine and speeding out of there as fast as she did, she felt herself shaking with fear and embarrassment for the next 2-3 miles, until she was certain that no angry managers or a fleet of police cars were chasing her down for public urination.
'I can't believe I just did that! What the hell is wrong with me? I'm a fucking adult, not some baby who loses control in public. God this is so fucking embarrassing!'.
As the minutes passed, Grace began to see the funny side of the whole situation and started laughing, realizing just how strange this would sound to her friends; if she ever had the courage to tell them. Even so, she was still immensely confused at just how the hell this had happened. Was she sick? Did she have some kind of bladder infection? Grace was humble enough to admit that anybody could have an accident; it wasn't as if she could deny that about herself when sitting in her wet clothing. But this all just felt completely unlike her.
She tried to think back through her day and figure out if anything had caused her body to be negatively impacted. Grace had gotten up this morning, taking a shower and then immediately having breakfast, which was whole oat cereal and milk, with a glass of orange juice. She had then gone to get changed, got into her wetsuit, and left the house... except…
'Oh, shit!' realized Grace, the answer coming to her at once.
The vitamin supplements she had taken earlier had diuretic properties and she now realised that she had just simply not read the side effects properly when purchasing them. A similar thing happened to her twenty-two-year-old friend Melanie; a fellow surfer, who had begun a new pill without properly checking the side effects. She had confessed the story while drunk to Grace and a few fellow Surfers, leading to a humiliating accident when Melanie had completely lost control in front of her boyfriend in the hotel elevator; trying in-vain to make it back to her room before she pissed herself.
Grace also laughed, as she knew an additional part of that story that Melanie had neglected to tell the rest of her friends. Her boyfriend Thomas had known about the pill mix-up, long before Melanie realized and had neglected to tell her, as a massive piss fetishist and had greatly enjoyed seeing his girlfriend’s desperation. When she lost control in the elevator and wet herself, Thomas had been unable to contain himself and had pinned her to the walls, spanking her wet ass and somehow tearing a through lycra to drive himself inside her piss-soaked pussy; while licking her perky nipples as Melanie screamed in shocked delight.
Melanie had told a shocked Grace all about the kink and just how much it drove Thomas crazy. She’d been surprised, having previously stereotyped fetishes like that as the territory of middle-aged men, rather than muscular, blonde-haired machines, who even Grace found could get her suit damp from time-to-time. Melanie; a keen eye and major gossip on all things sexual, had noticed Grace’s attractions and even offered to share Thomas. Once or twice, she’d even half-joked about Grace and her giving Thomas a piss-themed threesome for his birthday; much to Grace's embarrassment and rebukes that she had no interest in that kink.
If the two lovebirds could see Grace now, she blushed at thinking what they would want to do to her. Melanie was a major exhibitionist and got off on a mixture of pleasure and humiliation, so Grace’s near miss-accident would probably have her friend kissing her neck. As for Thomas; based on Melanie’s descriptions on what he did to her after even the smallest accidents, Grace would be sore for a week and wobbling on her surfboard for a while after. Realizing that she was unintentionally biting her lip, Grace shook off those thoughts and focused on heading to the beach. Now that she had emptied herself, Grace figured that she had flushed the diuretic out of her system and would be back to her normal bladder strength.
That belief lasted for about forty minutes.
Grace moaned in annoyance as she felt a sudden urge to pee again and realized that the diuretic pills were still rapidly refilling her bladder, in preparation to forcibly empty them once more. No longer confused as to why; though no less annoyed, Grace began fidgeting in her car seat and grimaced at the fact that her bum was still fairly damp from her previous accident. At first, she tried to ignore it; somehow convinced this would help, yet a few minutes of growing pain in her bladder put an end to that idea.
Grace then squirmed around in her seat as before, feeling the warm pee still trapped in her suit, sloshing around her bum and across her legs. A few drips and streams had soaked onto the floor of her car, though thankfully; having come into her car numerous times when dropping temperatures became too much to bear in the seas, had plenty of towels done across the floors in preparation for such times. A few drops of pee weren’t going to leave any permanent impression. Even so, this did nothing to help Grace’s desperation, as she began to sweat anxiously, filling drips of pee running down the back of her ankles and into her wet shoes. Increasingly in bladder agony, Grace’s resolve back to crack.
'Maybe I should just let go now and get it over with. I've already done it once' thought Grace. 'No! I know what's happening now and I can hold it for twenty minutes. I am not going to wet myself twice in one day!'.
Unfortunately, Grace was far from certain that the decision was hers to make. She remembered Melanie telling her about how she and Thomas had experimented with diuretics after their elevator romp and Grace remembered hearing that a second accident always followed the first; when diuretic-induced, much sooner than it had taken the first time.
'It completely regresses your bladder muscles' she remembered Melanie explaining. The first wave knocks them down from adulthood back to childhood and by the time you need to go again, you basically have a toddler's control. Totally shatters your muscle strength... but not the muscles needed for the fun afterward!'.
Grace moaned in frustration. She had barely held on that long the first time and already felt seriously desperate to piss, wriggling and squirming like crazy in the driver's seat. Before she could help it, a spurt of piss burst from her damp pussy, re-soaking her crotch, as she quickly shot one hand down between her legs to help her hold on. Even so, Grace felt like it was barely helping and the intense pressure in her bladder made her feel like she could leak again at any moment.
'Fucking fuck, fuck… fuck!! I can't fucking hold it anymore! Not when my bladder is compromised like this! I can't do it, I'm so desperate right now. I feel like I'm about to wet myself at any second. I can't do this any longer. I just can't, it's not my fault if I lose control again-'
-Suddenly, Grace's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an ice cream truck with the past and she realized that she was less than a mile away from the beach. Screaming with delight, she turned towards it and began eagerly anticipating the moment when she could step out of her car and quickly make her way to the nearby toilets; located right next to the car park.
Grace's desperation only seemed to worsen as she approached the car park but she was determined to make it. Despite still heavily fidgeting, Grace steeled her nerves and prepared for the short walk from the car park to the toilets; less than a minute long, with her determined not to wet herself this time. Unfortunately, this really wasn't Grace's day and in a run of bad luck that would make even the worst gamblers cry with laughter, Grace nearly screamed in sheer disbelief at the sign she saw on the bathroom doors nearby:
'OUT OF ORDER. PLEASE USE ALTERNATIVE FACILITIES'.
The moment Grace's eyes saw the sign, the rest of her body knew that she wouldn't be able to hold on for the 5-minute walk to the other bathrooms, just around the corner of the beach. Grace's mind however went into denial and she stepped desperately out of her car, her knees bending and nearly giving way almost immediately from an intense pang of desperation, as Grace did the pee-pee dance in between her car and another.
'I can't hold it!' moaned Grace aloud, as a fresh spray of piss sprang from her bladder and ran down her leg; a small yellow stream running over her stained trainers.
Realizing that she only had seconds left, Grace quickly stumbled behind her car; out of sight of anyone on the beach, before her whole body began to tremble with anticipation. Knowing that the battle was lost anyway, she took a deep breath and sighed, giving in to the inevitable as her bladder completely broke down and Grace Taylor began to completely and utterly wet herself for the second time that day.
Despite having previously experienced it, Grace still found the sensation incredibly strange as warmth flooded around her crotch; her pussy drenched in piss in Mere moments, before the liquid ran up to her ass, re-soaking her dampened bum and flooding down her legs. Shaking with relief, Grace didn't know if it was just in her head but the feeling of her second accident overwhelming her exhausted muscles sent an immense wave of pleasure rocketing through her body, which no longer had to hold back the intense load inside her.
Gripping her car boot for support, Grace let out a small moan as her whole body shuddered and she experienced an involuntary orgasm; her clit pulsating like a drum, her legs vibrating with relief, and her bladders painful aching finally gone. The piss flooding down her legs, the puddle she was standing in, and even the fact that she was a young woman behaving like a little girl who couldn't make it to the toilet was forgotten, as Grace relished the relief and the immense pleasure it was bringing her. She had sex before that wasn't as good as this and somewhere in her thoughts, she would remember thinking afterward that she was beginning to understand what Melanie and Thomas got out of this.
While Grace was lost halfway between embarrassment and erotic pleasure, her body continued its accident, with dozens of hot yellow streams every second flooding down her legs and soaking her lycra wetsuit, though only a thin glistening layer of piss made it to the outer surface of her wetsuit. Her shoes once again filled with her piss, while her bum trembled violently inside its now soaked lycra containment.
‘Ohhhh fuuuuck’ she moaned, in a tone that could have been whispered into a lover’s ear in bed.
Slowly, Grace’s accident began to subside and she felt the intense streams slow to a gentle trickle, a few drops, and then; nothing. Sighing with relief, Grace looked down at her feet and burst out laughing. Somehow, the puddle she was standing in was almost as big as the one she’d left at the petrol station.
‘How the hell is that possible?’ she thought.
Regardless of how, Grace wasn’t entirely sure how she felt. The intense accident should have left her utterly humiliated and while embarrassed, she was more annoyed at herself for making such a silly mistake with the pills. The actual wetness she could handle, as to her immense relief, no one had seen her lose control. Even so, she knew she needed to be more careful in the future to avoid anything like this ever happening again.
She didn’t want this to happen again… right?
The truth was, Grace didn’t know how she felt about that either. Her whole body was still shaking from her orgasm and; as if on cue, her knees finally gave out, as she slid down her car and fell into her puddle, the pee soaking against the outer layers of her wetsuit. It felt sloshy, immature, and silly, yet also warm, relaxing, and almost… pleasurable.
‘If only Melanie could see me now!’ thought Grace. ‘She’d be ecstatic!’
Despite her conflicted feelings on the multiple accidents, neither was her primary concern now. It was mid-morning, the sun was as bright as any Cornwall day could hope to be and she could hear the sound of waves in the distance. Pulling herself up, she looked over her car bonnet and gave the biggest smile. The beach was practically deserted and the waves were rising high; over 10 ft., crashing down up past even the middle-half of the beach, soaking the sand in seawater.
No matter what she liked or didn’t like sexually, Grace loved surfing. Next to that, everything else was forgotten. Quickly untying the robes that held her surfboard on the car roof, she grabbed the cherry red board and began sprinting with it across the sand; a few moments after kicking her pee-soaked trainers underneath her car.
Her long brown hair flapped in the wind and she looked like a supermodel running down the beach, attracting the eyes of every person who had arrived. They were all so enraptured by her looks: Her gorgeous face, deep brown eyes, lycra-clad legs, her cute bum, not a single one noticed the droplets of pee shaking free from her, as she made her way towards the ocean.
This was where she belonged. Where she would always belong.
Laughing with ecstatic joy, she felt a huge wave douse her in seawater; piss replaced with salt covering her whole body in a cold chill, yet she continued running and threw herself into the waters. Carried forward on her surfboard with ease, she lay against it; paddling further out and then timed her ascent perfectly. She rose just before the wave and found herself standing in a living tunnel of water, thousands of gallons roaring above her, yet all she felt was pure exhilaration. She had been barrelled and was riding it perfectly, in tune with the turn of the wave as if it were a part of her own body.
‘WAHOO!’ she screamed, at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing off the water in a hundred directions; a beautiful distortion at the heart of chaos.
The wave began to thunder down, yet Grace held her nerve and lowered her body, closing in on the narrowing exit from the wave. Always a second ahead of the water, she surfed down for a second, then spun up and over the wave, turning at a 360-degree spin in the air, before landing back on the water perfectly and riding the aftershock nearly all the way back to the beach, where a small group of people cheered her display: She was a true professional and they all knew it.
Grace smiled, blowing kisses at everyone, before turning back before she lost momentum and heading for the next wave.
It was good to be home. |
Hey y'all. Here's the sequel, coming at you. It's immense! Which means it's got...
...cute boy-meets-girl romance!
...witty banter!
...love conquering all inconveniences!
...descriptions of camping in places I've never been!
...character growth by peripheral characters we'll never meet again, just 'CAUSE.
...oh, and some desperation. I wedged it in at the end. (Also hetero sex. If you haven't read my stories before, know that there's almost always het sex.)
Actually -- I'm actually pretty proud of the desperation in this one. But it is all the way at the end. That particular scene was the first idea I had, and I started to write it out. But then my addictions kicked in. I just can't quit character development, y'all. Plotting is a hell of a drug. And Bree and Tam emerged, holding hands, and demanded their story be told.
I will try to be on here a little more frequently, and so I'm not going to dump it all on you at once like last time. So there will be more to this, including that desperation I mentioned. But here goes:
MONSOON
--------------------------------------------
It hit on their way back from their first overnight.
The heat had been almost unendurable. Even guzzling water, almost nobody took pee breaks: they were sweating too much. But the clouds had formed up in the distance, moving closer as the afternoon wore on. And just as they got into sight of the vans, the skies opened up.
“How is it raining?” Little Lyn demanded, between the squeals. They weren’t getting drenched anymore—that had happened instantly. Now they were just standing in the rain totally soaked. The rain was pouring off of them because it had nothing else to sink into.
“It’s New Mexico in the summer!” Tam declared. He stretched out his arms and flung back his head. When he looked up, he met Bree’s eyes. And Bree fell in love with him all over again. From the huge grin he got, the feeling was pretty mutual.
And, well, she was getting a pretty good look at him. His shirt was plastered to his skin. He might as well not be wearing it…
She was suddenly conscious that he was gazing at her just as intently, and that her shirt was plastered on pretty well too. Her sports bra had to be showing, traced out perfectly under the wet shirt. She wanted to cover up, but how? Anything she did would just draw attention to her.
And then again, why? Let him look.
He threw her an air high-five, and she returned it. And felt her knees getting a little weak. Which was awkward, since they still had a few hundred yards to go.
Bree, of course, was the van driver. Sitting down in her wet clothes felt disgusting at first, but she couldn’t take anything off. If she’d been alone, maybe she would have stripped off her shirt. And if she’d been alone with Tam she might have taken off more than just that. But as it was, she had to remain decently clad.
Driving through pouring rain on unfamiliar roads in a van that had a real high roll hazard was not Bree’s idea of fun. She was sweating as she inched along—from nerves, this time. But luckily, before they were even halfway back to camp, the downpour had stopped and the sun was coming out again.
“This weather is nuts!” Fiona said.
“Actually this is normal,” Tam said. “I don’t understand why, but summer is actually the rainy season around here. It’s actually nice—feel how cool the air is!” And this was true. The baking heat of the day had been broken by the rain, and it was incredibly nice.
“Usually the cloudburst only lasts half an hour or so,” Tam added. “Still, this is why we had you bring rain gear.”
But when they returned to camp the first order of business was to head back to the cabins and change clothes.
It hit as Bree was removing her sodden sports bra from under her even-more-sodden shirt. The girls were getting so comfortable with each other that they were just changing openly, but Bree never felt comfortable getting down to bare boobs with them. So she was half-in and half out of her clothing when Sandy blurted out, “Do you like Tam?”
Bree took refuge in literalism. “Of course I do,” she said. “He’s a great team leader, and he’s teaching me a lot about being a counselor.”
“No, I mean like-like!”
Literalism having failed, Bree tried humorous deflection. “Oh, well, if we’re talking like-like…!”
But Sandy was tenacious. “So do you?”
“She does!” Gina shrieked. “Look at her blushing!”
“He’s sooooo cute!”
“Are you two gonna kiss?”
“Ohhhh, look at that, they already have!”
This was not going to plan at all. “Ladies, ladies—calm down,” Bree said. “Yeah, we like each other…”
This set off more gales of joy.
“Calm down, okay? It’s not a big deal—”
Giggling denial.
“Well, maybe it is. But, and this is important, we’re not gonna be holding hands or making out while we’re working with you. That’s not what we’re here for.”
“Why can’t you hold hands?”
“Because, to be honest… if we did, we might be getting distracted. And it’s our job to keep you safe. We can’t do that if we’re all over each other. So we won’t be.”
“That makes sense,” said Little Lyn, and when Angie agreed, that seemed to settle it.
But then Sandy launched into the logistical questions: “How did you kiss him? He’s so short!”
“Well, to be honest… no. No, I’m just not going to be talking about this,” Bree said.
“Awwwwww! Come on! Tell, tell!”
“No. And that’s final.” Because there’s no way on earth I’m gonna explain how he caught me with my pants down and was a real gentleman about it.
This realization helped keep her determined, and eventually the girls gave up, or at least decided to bide their time. And since they were eating with their cabin teammates instead of their trail teammates, there was no chance to bug Tam about it. But instead the gossip flew with the other girls in the cabin, and Bree became deeply, mortifyingly conscious of her fellow counselor in the cabin. But the other counselor didn’t say anything.
The mortification got even worse the next day, when the girls gleefully informed Tam’s team what they’d discovered. Tam grinned and shrugged: that’s life with middle schoolers. Whattya gonna do?
Except that was a real question, and a good one. Bree was feeling very much like she was out in deep water on this, not certain what she could stand on. One kiss—well, really a bunch of them, but only one time—didn’t make a relationship. There were things that did make a relationship real, but which of them could they do? Bree felt like she was blushing constantly, that every move she made was under a microscope. Her tension and confusion was mounting by the hour.
This was their rest day, between the two big overnight hikes. There were the usual games, but there were also some long pauses where everyone just sat around. During one of these, in the heat of the afternoon, Tam plopped himself down next to Bree and said, quietly, “How ya doin’?”
Bree felt like every single one of the kids was now paying total attention, though nobody had really moved. “I feel like we’re being watched,” she said, honestly (and just as quietly).
“That we are,” Tam answered. “Shall we show them how grown adults do this?”
“Do what?”
“Talk things out. Set boundaries. Not flounder around in the dark trying to read their partners’ minds. You know, all the stuff we hated in high school.”
“We’re not floundering? I feel like I’m floundering.”
Tam nodded. “I thought you looked a little lost. Only natural, we haven’t talked yet. We should do that.”
“Here? Now?”
“Perfect time for it. We need to get it worked out before tomorrow or we’ll both snap from the strain. Kids are otherwise occupied.”
“Yeah, by watching us!”
“So we better set a good example, huh?”
“Huh. Hadn’t thought of it like that…”
“Yup.”
“So. Um. Boundaries?”
“Let’s get the most important stuff out of the way first, then work out the details,” he said. “What are you okay with in front of the kids?” When she didn’t answer for a moment, he suggested, “I mean, can I hold your hand in front of the kids?”
“Out on the trail,” she said. “Not in camp.”
He nodded.
“It’s because—”
He held up a finger. “You don’t have to justify your boundaries,” he told her. “I’m gonna respect that because you asked for it, not because of whatever makes you ask.”
A wave of admiration swept over her—admiration and relief. The tension in her shoulders was ebbing rapidly. “Oh. That’s nice.”
He grinned. “You look better already. So let’s figure out more. All our clothes stay on in front of the kids.”
“Well, duh.”
“Yeah, duh, but it’s still good to say out loud. Especially since my next question is, do you wanna keep all our clothes on when we’re alone?”
The blush came back with a vengeance. “Um.”
“I’ll tell you right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’m fine either way. My boundary is no intercourse, because I didn’t bring any condoms. Everything else is on the table for me—in private—so it’s down to what you’re comfortable with.”
“This conversation is getting a little past hand-holding,” Bree whispered.
He grinned. “I know. Figured we should talk about it right away. Everything else will be easier.”
“Um. Can I decide about the sex later?”
“Of course. And the clothes?”
“…Off.”
He grinned.
“I can’t believe I just said that,” Bree said.
“Is it what you want?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“But… like, what would people think to hear me say that?”
“Who cares? We’re adults. We like each other. We think each other’s pretty cute and we’d like to see more. Everyone else can butt out.”
“Wow.”
He grinned again. “See? And now everything else will be a lot easier. Like, can I call you cute in front of the kids?”
“No,” she said at last. “But you can imply it all you want. And you can call me cute when we’re alone.”
They hashed it out, bit by bit, and the stress and tension ebbed away—replaced by excitement. Now that they’d said it out loud, Bree suddenly felt an absolutely burning desire to get him alone and naked. To see what she’d gotten, of course. “When can we be alone?” she asked.
“Not till the kids are gone. Saturday night. We’ll do something after dinner,” he said, eyes alight.
But first they had a hike to manage. The kids had mapped out their route, and it was going to require quite an early start. They enforced early bedtimes, which allowed Bree to suppress any gossiping, and then rousted everyone out before sunrise and got them into the van. The kids dozed while Bree drove. As usual Tam was in the seat next to her, and they seized the opportunity to talk a little. Just normal we’re-into-each-other talk.
“So that song you played…”
“Oh, ‘Sideways’?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Did you like it?”
“Well, it helped me figure out what was on your mind, so—yeah, I liked it.”
“Was I that obvious?”
“Pretty much.”
She blushed.
“Nah, don’t be embarrassed. That’s when I made up my mind to get you alone somehow.” He cocked a head. “You get embarrassed a lot.”
“Well, it’s just…” she flapped a hand. “It’s all this baggage.”
“Oh, am I stepping on your scars?”
“It’s not that, although that’s a great way of putting it. It’s that…” she swallowed and checked the rear-view mirror. Most of the kids seemed out like lights. “I’ve always been a good girl. And now I’m… um… trying to be less good. Let myself be… uh… an adult. Doing adult things. Sexual,” she managed to get the word out.
“Sounds like scars to me,” Tam said. “Just scars that you share with a lot of other people.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. I feel like I’m being shameful. But then the flip side is, when I behave, I feel I’m no fun. Inhibited. I mean, I wanna be GGG, but I’m having to fight all this history. All these expectations.”
“Good reminder. We shouldn’t have any expectations.”
A chill ran through her. “We shouldn’t?”
“Nope. ‘Expectations are resentment waiting to happen.’”
“That sounds to me like we’re not going to… like we’re giving up.”
“Oh! I see. Yeah, not my intention. I wanna kiss you. A lot. But I won’t expect you to make out with me. I’ll grab my chances when the chances come, though.”
“I think I see. That’s hard.”
“Yup.”
“As for the baggage… you wanna be GGG, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“And you feel like you’ve got to choose between being the good girl and being GGG?”
“Right.”
“You remember what the first G is, right?”
“Yeah, ‘Good.’ What are you—oh.”
“Figure it out, huh?”
“You!” she said, deliriously happy. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
“I’ve picked up a few tricks here and there. I’ve had some good teachers.”
“I’m grateful. To them and to you.”
“Same. To them and to you.”
“To me? What have I done?”
“Aside from being a really wonderful, beautiful human being? Well, let’s see—for starters, you’re doing all the driving…”
“Right, and you owe me for that.”
“Remember what I said about expectations.”
“No, I meant like counselor chores.”
“Oh, right. Balance. Uh—doing the dishes?”
“We’ll make them do that.”
“Okay, then I’ll be the bad guy and do the making.”
After nearly an hour’s drive they arrived at the trailhead at last. They’d been here before, but for shorter hikes. There was a pit toilet by the little parking lot, but Bree had no intention of using it. And apparently, neither did anyone else. Fiona outright announced that she was going to go pee in the trees instead, and headed off with both Lyns and Sandy to do just that. Tam and Bree’s eyes met. Another moment of little victories. But also, underneath that, was the memory of how they’d first kissed.
When the girls returned, they unloaded the van, distributed the gear, checked boots and straps, and headed up the trail. Over the course of the day they got much, much farther than they had before, truly out into the backcountry. They were headed to the peak of a mountain the kids had picked out.
The journey was hot, tiring, and an absolute delight. The kids were all extremely enthusiastic and working together well—even Xavier the lone wolf. The Lyns and Angie, with a little support from Ian and Nate, were brilliant trail bosses, setting the pace and checking on everyone. Fiona was helpful. Bradley smiled. Nobody was getting blisters, everyone was drinking water, all was well. The hike was actually going so well that Bree was starting to get nervous: what would go wrong?
Breakfast and lunch were basic backpacker fare, mostly energy bars and trail mix. But for dinner they managed something a little better, building a fire and frying up some pre-prepped food. Once again Gina was in charge of the kitchen, and again all Bree and Tam had to do was sit back and watch. And as Angie and the Lyns got everyone else to make camp, Tam slipped his hand into Bree’s.
And then they watched the sun set, and watched the crescent moon go down, and watched the stars coming slowly out. They kept an eye on the kids, too, but their happy campers seemed entirely self-propelled, or at least Angie-propelled. In fact the whole gang seemed to be making a determined effort to not come over. Bree could have sworn that Madalyn actually shoed some of the boys back to camp. Ricky and Bradley were watching the fire like hawks, far more intent and serious than when Tam had been with them. And she thought she caught Angie and Ian and Nate in a huddle, trying to work something out. It was when she noticed Nate setting up her tent that she knew something was up.
When she pointed all this out, Tam chuckled. “They’ve got eyes. Or at least our leaders do. They’re giving us space.”
“I feel bad, though…”
“Look. Do they need help?”
“No. They’ve got it.”
“Would they be asking for help, if they weren’t giving us room?”
“Probably…”
“See any goofing off?”
“Nope.”
“They’re giving us space, and it’s making them step up. Be responsible. Pretty amazing, really. We lucked out.”
“I know! I can’t imagine another group like them…”
“We won’t get one. Not this good. We won’t have Lyns and Angies and Nates in the next bunch. We’ll have somebody else, though.”
“I already miss them.”
“I know. Savor the next three days.”
Sudden motion in the sky caught Bree’s eye. “Falling star! Make a wish!”
Tam’s hand tightened on hers. “What did you wish for?” he asked.
“Same wish I always make: that tomorrow will be beautiful. What did you wish for?”
“That you’d be sitting here beside me. And look! It already come true!”
She pulled her hand free and wrapped him in a hug. They sat like that for a moment.
“I can’t rest my head on your shoulder,” she said at last, complaining.
“Just rest it on my head.”
“Won’t that hurt?”
“Most things hurt eventually. Sometimes it’s worth it.”
“Oooh, I can rest my chin on your shoulder if I sit behind you…”
“Are they actually putting themselves to bed?”
“Sounds like.”
“Dang, what a crew.”
“We should probably go check on them…”
“I agree. Just one thing we need to do first.”
“Hmm?”
He leaned a bit, turned his head. His lips found her cheek. She shifted so that he wasn’t the only one kissing.
This lasted a long time.
“Okay,” she gasped, coming up for air. “We’ve got to go do our job…”
“Yeah.”
They walked the ten yards back to camp, and found an exhausted, exultant team waiting to show off all their hard work. They duly admired the kids’ handiwork, and encouraged them all to bed down. As Fiona headed to her tent, she high-fived Bree with an ear-to-ear grin. Angie gave Bree a hug. The giggling commenced as soon as the girls were zipped up, as if they were waiting for a door to close. A tent, of course, was in no way soundproof.
Tam came over and handed her something.
“What’s this?”
“Flashlight,” he said. “I’m going over that way, y’see, and you can go over there, and there’s no risk of bumping into each other in the dark.”
Bree laughed. It was a new kind of laughter in her vocabulary. She took his hand firmly and led him into the woods.
“Um, what are we doing?” he asked in a whisper.
“Oh, what you were planning on doing, but no reason to split up like that.”
“Didn’t know you were looking for an audience…”
“I’m not. Just the company. This is good. Turn your light off and step over there.”
They peed in parallel again. When they were done (Bree again took a little longer) they found each other once again in the dark. And they made out until Tam got a crick in his neck and had to stop. |
The next day was not quite as beautiful as Bree might have wished.
Despite their triumph the previous night, the kids were not as on their game. Maybe it was weariness, or their second night out with miles ahead, or blisters or overheating, or they were just starting to get on each other’s nerves again, but they definitely made some mistakes and squabbled a bit. At Tam’s suggestion they split the group out a bit to let tensions ease. Then, just as they were about ready to camp for the night, another monsoon storm swept over them. Forty minutes later, starting a fire was just about impossible, and there was no way to get dry except to wait. Dinner was nothing but packaged food (they’d already run out of trail mix). And with the residual anger in the group, neither counselor was about to go off star-watching and making out. Not even a good-night kiss—or a good-night piss, for that matter.
But Day 3 of the hike was glorious. Midmorning, they reached the literal high point of their planned route, the peak they’d been making for, and celebrated jubilantly. There were many pictures taken. Since they didn’t have a flag, the team just used Madalyn and Tam. Madalyn got up on Katelyn’s shoulders in their Supergirl pose, so of course Tam had to climb up on Bree…
Then it was all downhill—in the sense of getting easier, but also literally—as they made their way back to the van. And they made it back to camp in time for a massive dinner, since they’d had nothing but energy bars since the day before and anything cooked looked astounding. But not so much food that there wasn’t any room for s’mores at their final campfire.
And that was sad. The “final” part, not the s’mores. Bree genuinely didn’t want the kids to go. She wanted to take them out on another hike—maybe five days this time, they could do it. She wanted the bonfire to last forever.
And she also couldn’t wait for them all to go home, because in twenty-four hours she and Tam could be truly alone…
They did the “closing circle” ceremony, each kid or counselor sharing favorite memories and heartfelt appreciations. Even the quiet guys opened up a little. The girls (and Ian and Nate) were pledging to add each other on Snapchat and be friends forever and ever. Angie was beaming like she’d won the Camp Mom Olympics. Gina and Ian were holding hands and sneaking smooches. Big Lyn and Little Lyn were hugging as if they were terrified to let each other go. Fiona announced that she hadn’t washed her hair in days—and really didn’t care. There was much laughter and many tears. And Bree’s heart was breaking with pride and joy.
Another part of her was screaming One more night!
The next day, after a subdued breakfast, it was all about getting the campers packed up and headed out. Bree drew airport-run duty again. But instead of three trips, after returning from the second she ran into none other than Julia Bristow.
“You’ve done two runs?”
“Yeah. That’s nothing, though, I did three the first day.”
“Three? Oh, right, you’re paired with Tam.”
Oh, you don’t know the half of it, boss…
“Well, I’m officially declaring you done, Miss Bree,” Julia told her. “Five airport runs is enough for now. I’ll find someone or I’ll drive the last run myself. Time for you to take a breather, my dear—fresh campers tomorrow.”
Bree immediately ran off to find Tam. And once she’d helped him finish his chores, they both ran off into the woods. They practically jogged up the first-day-hike hill—amazingly short compared to the mileage they’d put on the three days before, and much faster without a traffic jam of under-prepared, footsore campers slowing them down. Much much faster with the prospect of them being alone, away from camp, uninterruptible.
But as they got to the top of the hill, and looked at the meadow spread out below them, they also saw the stormcloud rolling in.
“We really shouldn’t be up here on top of a hill when that hits,” Tam said.
“Shit,” Bree said.
“I mean, yeah, I want you to feel like you’ve been struck been lightning, but not literally be struck by lightning… and if we did get hit, it might be hard to explain why we were naked…”
“Shit. When can we be alone?”
“It’ll have to be after dinner,” Tam said. “Lots of partying tonight. We can probably slip away without anyone noticing.” He started down the trail back to camp. “But if all else fails… want to come to my bunk tonight?”
“Um.”
“I think all we can do is sleep, my cabinmate will still be there. In fact it might be better if we kept it real quiet. Ideally he wouldn’t even know you were there. But it’s something.”
Not enough. But she said, “That actually sounds pretty good.” Maybe once the storm passes over we can still find a place to ourselves.
Except the storm didn’t pass over.
“This happens every now and then,” Tam said as they ate together in the dining hall. “Not often, but sometimes it’ll rain well into the night.”
Bree’s frustration was obviously showing. He smiled at her sympathetically. “Don’t stress. At least this way nobody will have any other socializing plans and we won’t have to slip away. Just come to my cabin when you can.”
As they left the hall, they braced themselves for the downpour and ran off in opposite directions. Bree brushed her teeth at her usual bathroom (which felt huge and empty without the line of middle school girls at the mirrors) and then gritted them as she plunged back out into the rain. Among other things, it was now much colder than usual.
She was deeply grateful she knew how to get to Tam’s cabin by memory. With the rain dumping down, she could barely see anything even with her glasses on. But even if she hadn’t found the cabin on her own, Tam was watching for her from the door.
“Come in and get dry,” he said, handing her a towel.
“My shell worked fine,” Bree said, removing the jacket in question. “It’s my legs.” Her shorts were drenched below where her jacket had covered, and everything below that was soaked, too. She started vigorously rubbing her legs down with his towel. Once she was mostly dry, though, she was still a little cold—and her shorts were still wet and clammy. She shivered.
“Let’s get in my sleeping bag and warm up,” he suggested. “But, um—this isn’t how I intended to ask this, but… can you take your shorts off first?”
She blushed and laughed at the same time. The practical necessity of it was obvious. And she wanted to do it. But somehow reaching for her zipper was… intense. Also potentially very exposed. She suddenly felt like she needed to pee, though of course that was a mixed blessing. She glanced around. “Your cabin-mate…?”
“I told him I was turning in early, and of course he sleeps at the other end of the cabin. He said he’d leave the light off when he came in. If we’re quiet, and don’t leave your stuff lying around where he might see it or trip on it, we’ll be fine.”
“Good,” she said, and meant it. She tried to unsnap her shorts again—and couldn’t do it. She buried her blushing cheeks in her hands.
“Shy?” he said. “Would it help if I took off my shorts?”
OMG, yes.
No!
Yessss… “Uh—can’t hurt to try?”
A moment later he stripped off his cut-offs and revealed his, yes, plaid boxers. And underneath them… well, it wasn’t much of a bulge. It certainly arrested her attention for a moment even still. But this did nothing for her blushing and her hesitating.
“You okay with this?” he asked. “We can wait…”
In answer she grabbed him and kissed him, utterly hungrily. When they came up for breath, her fingers plunging deep into his hair, she whispered, “No more waiting.” Instead of her shorts, she stripped off her shirt. She still had her sports bra on, but it was the point of the thing.
He matched her shirt for shirt. Of course, this left him naked except for his boxers. She reached for him again.
“Let’s get the light off,” he said. “And remember, we have to be quiet. So let’s, uh, take it slow, huh?”
“Good idea. Ideas. About the light, too, I mean.”
“Right. But before we turn it off—if I can just see one thing…”
“Huh?”
He ran his finger down one strap of her bra. “Are you comfortable taking this off?”
“Oh, definitely. Sports bras are never that comfortable.”
“I meant—are you comfortable with me seeing you?”
She flushed red again, and hesitated again—and wriggled out of the bra before she could change her mind.
His eyes blazed.
Almost terrified by the hunger in his gaze, she instinctively clutched her hands (still holding the bra) to her chest.
“Sorry, too far?” he asked.
“They’re not that hot,” she said.
“Oh, I don’t know about that…” he said softly. “You look gorgeous. All of you.” He set his hands on her hips.
Which reminded her she needed to take her shorts off. She did this quickly, again before she could freeze up again. And speaking of freezing, now she was really cold. And said so.
“Bunk, then,” he said. “Bunk and bag. And lights out.” He turned these out before adding, “And just push your stuff under the bunkbed.”
She did, except for her shorts, which she hung from the ladder to the upper bunk of the next bunkbed over. Meanwhile Tam climbed up the ladder to his bunk—because of course he’d taken the top bunk. She followed after him and lay down beside him in the narrow bed.
They were kissing the moment her head hit the pillow.
His hand found her hip, drew her closer, ran up her back. Stroked her spine, gently. Then his fingers crept up and cupped the side of her left breast (as she was lying on her right side). “You good with this?” he whispered.
“Yes. Oh yes. Yes please.”
His fingers trailed across her breast several times, lightly. Traced the line where breast met chest, traced the outline of her aureola. She was, she’d discovered, super-sensitive in her nipples. She felt a huge surge of arousal—and adoration. He was so gentle. No squeezing, no pinching, just beautiful feather-fingers running across her skin. It all sent an electric current running through her, right down to her groin, where it turned into a flood. She kissed him, hungrily, to show how much she appreciated it, and pulled his hips closer to hers. His boxers were bulging much more now.
Oh, yes. That’s what I want.
She matched gentle touch for touch, trailing her fingertips up and down the line of that bulge. He warmed and hardened even more, and the loose fly couldn’t contain him any longer. Her fingers met flesh—and it was his turn to kiss like he was starving for her skin. For a few minutes there was no thinking. Their hands were as hungry as their lips.
She was startled when he tore away. “What’s wrong?” she whispered. (It seemed right to whisper.)
“Nothing,” he said. “Absolutely nothing. Well—it’s intense. Ummm… it’s been a while for me. Almost a year.”
“More than two years for me,” she said. “And trust me, you’re already better than he was.”
“I just—want to be careful. I want you so bad. All of you. But we’ve got boundaries.”
“You haven’t crossed mine. Have I crossed yours?”
“No, you just make me want to cross them. Bree, I’ve never wanted any girl so much.”
“Really?”
“Three weeks of nothing but anticipation can do that. I want you. I want to be in you. So bad. And I want to do right by you. Better than a narrow bunk and a roommate…”
“Shhh. I don’t mind any of that. I just want to be with you. And I want you in me too.”
“Not without protection. For you.”
“We can wait.”
“Still… can we back off a little?”
“Of course.” She released him from her holding-on-for-dear-life grip, gave him a quick kiss.
“Oh, don’t stop that,” he breathed. “Please.”
“With pleasure,” she replied, and they fell back into making out for a long time.
The door opened, and they both froze. The sound of kissing carries, and Bree was suddenly highly conscious of her barenaked back, unmistakably not Tam’s. But the cabinmate didn’t turn on the lights. There were various rustlings and creakings as he got undressed and climbed into his sleeping bag.
They didn’t dare keep making out after that, didn’t dare make a sound. But they couldn’t keep from caressing each other. She traced the lips she couldn’t kiss. He brushed her hips, her thighs, her breasts. She felt like her panties must be soaked with her arousal. And she noticed he’d stayed pretty hard, even through the interruption.
But as they couldn’t talk or kiss or fuck, and as they were lying there in the dark after weeks of hard work, warmed by each other’s presence, sleep started pulling them down. Bree felt a little urge to pee come back—the feeling had been swallowed up by her overall arousal—and she thought about what it would take to get up and go. Too much effort, she thought, with the rain and all. Cold, too. And I’d have to stop touching Tam.
I can wait until morning.
--------------------------------
Famous last words, Bree... TO BE CONTINUED... |
Thanks for waiting, y'all. Time for the thrilling conclusion!
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She woke up, startled by the weight and warmth of Tam’s body. He’d rolled partway on to her in his sleep. He was breathing slow and steady, and she didn’t want to wake him up. But there was a heavy pressure between her legs that had nothing to do with her boyfriend’s expansionist sleep habits.
OMG. I have got to go.
Uh-oh.
She sized up the situation. She had no idea where the restroom cabin was on the boy’s side of camp, and she guessed she wouldn’t be able to find it without her glasses. And her glasses would be useless in the rain that was still dumping down.
She tried to hold it and drift back to sleep.
After about a minute it became clear that this was not a thing that was going to happen.
She had no idea what time it was, and had no way of finding out. But it was still dark outside.
What am I gonna do?
If this were the woods, she’d just get up and make a run for the trees. She’d get cold and soaked but better that than wetting her panties. No—she wouldn’t wait that long. Couldn’t. She’d just step outside the tent and squat right there.
But of course this wasn’t the woods. Could she get outside? Squat down? From the sound of things, she’d get drenched—not much overhang on the cabin. There was a tiny “porch” but she couldn’t pee there, because that’s where the light was. Middle of a rainy night or not, she wasn’t about to go butt-naked anywhere where people might see her.
She shifted a bit in the bunk, trying to find a position where her bladder wouldn’t bother her. This wasn’t going to happen either. It was the not knowing. She really had no idea when or where she was going to be able to pee… and that was driving her desperation sky-high.
But since needing to go had always been a turn-on… and since she was topless in bed with the hottest boy she’d ever held, but hadn’t been able to—um—do him properly… her situation was also sending her arousal sky-high.
She shifted again, and her movement made her realize her panties were wet. Had she…? No, if she had wet the bed (well, bunk) she wouldn’t still need to go so badly. This dampness was clearly from somewhere else. She was simply aching for release. Every minute of those three weeks of build-up since she’d lain down next to Tam was now bearing down on her. She couldn’t help it. She reached for her crotch—but whether to clutch her self against the pee, or get herself off, she didn’t even know.
Moving her hand made Tam stir. She froze, hoping she hadn’t woken him up. She couldn’t tell from his breathing. Tam. Oh, her sweet beautiful boy. He was simply the best, looking out for her even when he was just as desperate as she was… desperate for sex, that was…
A double surge hit her, and she had to grab. Quickly. Too quickly. Tam woke up.
“What’s wrong?” he mumbled in her ear.
“Nothing,” she breathed back. “Go back to sleep.” But her body couldn’t lie so easily.
“You’re squirming,” he mumbled again.
She had to confess. “I really need to pee.”
“Hmm?”
She shifted her mouth closer to his ear. “Gotta pee. Bad.”
“Go ahead.”
“I don’t know where!” She had to give herself another squeeze. Between the words and the gestures, he woke up to her predicament, realizing that she’d never had to pee on this side of camp.
“It’s a couple cabins—no, I need to go to. I’ll just take you,” he whispered.
Relief flooded through her. No, wait, that was the wrong word. Words. She wasn’t flooding anything. Period. And she definitely wasn’t relieved. But she was so grateful she just had to kiss him. And then she sat up and tried to get down off an old wooden bunk quietly, while absolutely bursting.
The next few minutes were some of the most excruciating of Bree’s life. Trying to move without making too much noise. Trying to find enough clothes to go outside. Not knowing where anything was. Not being able to see a thing between not having any light or any glasses. All in the cold with the perpetual sound of rain in her ears. She found her sandals, and she found her rain jacket, but she had no idea where the rest of her clothes were. Then she remembered she’d pushed them under the bed, so she got down on her knees to try and find them. But she couldn’t, not at first, and when she finally did she couldn’t find her shorts, and by then she was so incredibly desperate that she jammed both hands into her crotch and just about cried. And Tam was waiting, not understanding the holdup. She squirmed to her feet, wrapped one leg around the other, and wrapped her rain jacket around her body. It wasn’t quite long enough, and didn’t actually cover her panties entirely. And she didn’t even try to fumble with the zipper—she just held the jacket closed over her breasts. She was that low on time.
Then Tam took her by the hand, and the touch of his fingers sent a huge shiver of longing and desire running through her. She could not believe how much she wanted to shove him up against the wall, reach into his shorts, have him reach into her… screw his roommate, she wanted him so bad… no, wait, phrasing, screw Tam. Screw Tam until they both came. Right here, right now…
OMG. I am the absolute weirdest. And I am such a slut. Who else would get so turned on by having to pee?
But Tam, knowing nothing of what was in her head, just gently led her to the door and out into the rain.
Feeling the downpour on her jacket, and the cold air on her bare legs, made her also feel her pee making a break for it. She had to stop and cross her legs, clamping down like a vise. She was not going to pee in her panties like a little girl. She was not…
Tam, still holding her hand, turned back to look at her. Now that they were outside they could speak a little more freely. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’ve just gotta go. Like, incredibly badly.”
“Bathroom’s not far. And we’re getting soaked.”
The thought crossed her mind that she could just pee, and blame it on the rain… no! She squeezed her inner muscles as tight as she could (oh, that was so close to sex…), uncrossed her legs, and let him lead on.
She really couldn’t see a thing. Okay, she could tell when they were next to a cabin because she could see the lights. But in the dark, dumping rain, so cold, she saw she’d been right: she couldn’t have found the boy’s bathroom to save her life without Tam to be her eyes. She’d have pissed herself for sure. She could imagine trying to pop a squat next to one of these silent, nearly-empty cabins. And imagining it, she leaked. Just a drop or two. She squeezed Tam’s hand tighter, squeezed her pelvic muscles tighter, and tried to walk faster. But of course walking faster, with the height difference, meant she was forcing him to scramble to keep up—and he was the one who knew where they were going. She slowed down. And bit her lip.
“Almost there,” Tam said, reassuringly.
But of course, not knowing was still adding all that pressure. Was it this cabin? No? The next? “Oh my god,” she said under her breath. She was clamping down with every muscle she had. And she was so incredibly turned on. “Oh, my god…”
Tam heard her. “It’s right here,” he said.
Another leak. Bigger. More of a spurt. She thrust her free hand between her legs and started to double over. But that would expose her panties to the rain. She crouched down, tried to sit on her heel.
“Just another twenty steps,” Tam said. There was a change to his voice. Concern? She managed to straighten up, but she didn’t take her hand away. She was pressing down with two fingers. Pressing down on her pee-hole… urethra. And pressing down on her clit. Tam tugged on her hand and she followed him. She felt like she had seconds left.
And then, suddenly, they were inside, it was warm, and it wasn’t raining on them. But Bree still didn’t have her glasses on. She looked around frantically, seeing nothing but blurs. Her fingers felt another spurt slip past them. She rubbed furiously, and just about sobbed. Or was it a sigh?
“Tam, for the love of god, I can’t see…”
“Stalls are over there,” he said, pushing her to the left. He seemed to want to go right instead. But she didn’t let go of her death-grip (okay, grips—one on his hand and one on herself) as she flung herself towards the stalls. She was no longer thinking. It didn’t even occur to her that she was pulling him into the toilet stall behind her. On one level, apparently, she wasn’t going to let him go for anything.
She spurted again just as she started to turn around to sit down on the toilet, felt the warm droplets joining the cool ones already on her legs from the rain, and instead of finishing her turn she simply dropped her butt down onto the seat, somewhat askew. And she didn’t try to go for the waistband of her panties. Instead her fingers, already knotted up in the wet cotton, simply tugged hard out and down as she collapsed.
And then “Oh my god… oh my GOD, that feels so good…”
Bliss poured through her. And piss poured out of her. It sounded like the rainstorm had forced its way inside as her stream hit the water in the bowl. She was a monsoon all on her own.
It felt so good, it almost felt like she was coming. And that half-thought, really more like a feeling, nudged her to reach between her legs one more time…
Tam made a strangled noise.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. This close, he was still somewhat blurry, but she could at least make out his features and expression. She just didn’t know what the expression on his face meant. She’d never seen quite that look in his eyes.
“Uh, Bree? Are you ever gonna let go of my hand?” he gasped.
“Oh, am I hurting you?” she said, and loosened her grip, glancing down at his hand still held in hers as she did so. Which, of course, put her eyes right at a level to see what he was doing with his free hand.
He’d managed to get his shorts on back in the cabin. But his fly was down, and his fingers were fumbling with the fly of his boxers underneath. And coming right out to meet those fingers was…
“Oh,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, I forgot, you need to pee too!”
“Yeah,” he said, again in a somewhat strangled voice. “But… um. There’s…. um. A problem.”
“Huh? What?”
“Uh…” And he gestured helplessly, managing all at one wave of his hand to take in the fact that she was currently pissing (still) into the only toilet in the stall, and that her rain jacket had fallen open, and that she was still holding onto his hand, and that he was, in fact, getting hard.
“Oooh,” she said, and shifted her grip from his hand to his hard-on. Didn’t even think. Didn’t have time to blush. The sheer joy of getting one of the things she had been so desperate for was still flooding her with endorphins (and flooding the toilet with another bodily fluid), and then there was the other thing she’d been desperate for, right at eye level, and in her delight she simply took what she’d wanted.
It got harder, and quickly, in her grip.
“Wow,” she said, and rubbed it.
There was that strangled noise again.
“Oh, god, sorry! Am I hurting you?” she asked, slackening her grip (but not releasing him). Her piss was still hissing into the toilet, a thin but steady stream.
“Really not.”
“Then I stepped over your boundaries…”
He bent over to kiss her. Passionately. “I said anything but penetration,” he said, in a husky voice. “It’s just a little tricky, since I need to pee too.”
“Should I stop?”
“Definitely not. Gonna be faster if…” He shook his head. “But not here.”
“Where?”
“Shower,” he said. “Keep us warm. Clean up easy, after.”
“Yes.” Her stream trickled off. She knew she wasn’t done, but Tam didn’t; he grabbed her hand and practically hauled her to her feet. She squeezed off the remainder of her pee—she could wait on that.
The shower stalls were past the sinks, past the mirrors. Bree couldn’t see herself in the mirror, which was probably good. They must have looked a sight, her just in panties and a rain jacket, Tam with his hard-on sticking out the front of his shorts. They stepped into a shower stall, or at least the outer part for changing, and Bree pulled the curtain closed. Then there was a delicious fumbling with their clothes. Her rain jacket slid to the floor, and her panties followed a second later. Tam took a little longer, but she helped. They kept their sandals on. Tam reached in and turned on the shower. “Takes a minute to warm up,” he muttered.
“Don’t waste time,” she said.
Somehow they got him up on the bench and within good make-out height. But this also brought his erection closer, and Bree just couldn’t keep her hands off it. Their breath was coming in fast, hungry gulps. Bree’s heart was hammering so hard it was almost like shaking. But Tam was rigid—not just his hard-on but all of him. He looked like he was almost in pain. “You okay?” she asked, slowing her stroking.
“Don’t stop,” he begged.
“Am I holding you too tight?”
“No. Tighter.”
She squeezed a little. He gasped, which she took was a good sign. She kept stroking him. But just a few moments later he gave a little warning cry. “Look out—”
“What is it?”
He managed to turn his body away from her, though she still kept her grip. And then he jerked—spasmed—and she felt his hard-on match it. Something went flying off into the shower, and she felt warm fluid pouring over her fingers. He collapsed against her.
“Should I keep going?” she asked.
“Let go,” he gasped. “If I stay hard, I can’t pee…”
She let him go at last, and he staggered down into the shower, which was by now running warm. He stood under the water, breath heaving. She stepped closer to join him, shivering a bit as the water hit her body and inspired the rest of her pee to make a run for it. She held it in, waiting to see what he needed.
“Okay,” he said. “I think I can now.” He took his penis in hand to aim.
Bree couldn’t resist. She took it from him. He gasped again, but didn’t harden—probably couldn’t. She could feel his piss running through him, though, and this redoubled her need. She grabbed herself with her other hand.
“Do you still need to go?” he asked, incredulous.
“A bit,” she said, understating. As ever, once interrupted, the rest very much wanted to come out. Instead she shrugged. “I can hold it. It feels nice anyway.”
“ ‘Nice’?”
“Turns me on a little,” she said, giving him a grin that she hoped looked sexy.
His piss was much faster than hers; he squeezed out the last bit, and she reluctantly let go. He turned to her and stretched up for a kiss. His hand found her breast, and this sent more shivers through her.
“Does that feel good?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” she said, eyes half-closing as he traced her aureola. “Real good.”
He started kissing her breasts instead. This freed his hands to slide down her sides, down her hips. One clasped her butt and pulled her closer. The last boy in a position to do that had called it her “microbutt” to go with her “miniboobs.” She put him out of her mind, though. That got a lot easier to do when Tam’s other hand slipped between her legs, gently working past her own hand, and began to explore.
“Oh, Em, Gee,” she whispered. He’d found her clit instantly. No half-hearted fumbling and blundering around. And he was so gentle. Yet so firm. Insistent. And he hadn’t stopped kissing her nipples…
The fireworks began going off behind her eyes, and didn’t stop.
Distantly she was aware that she’d fallen back against the wall, panting rapidly, both palms pressed against the tile, as he kept going. Somewhere, she felt, her knees were starting to go rubbery. Way off yonder she was pissing uncontrollably over Tam’s fingers as the contractions rolled through her, and uncontrollably calling his name. But that was all ten thousand feet below where she was flying, absolutely flying, and there was a warm gold ocean of fire between her and her body, an ocean of fire that filled her and was thundering in her ears, in her heart, and absolutely blazing in her clit.
He caught her as she started to slide sideways, caught her and hugged her and kissed her.
“Good?” he asked.
She couldn’t answer him with words. All she could do was kiss him back, kissing him like he was the oxygen she was gasping for. The water was still running hot over their bare bodies.
“So,” he said. “We should talk…” |
Story 1: Stuck in the Bathroom with Miku
Summer break, a most wonderous time of year for any student. Between the warm weather, the extra free time, and the greater sense of freedom that came with it, what wasn’t to like about it? Even Futaro Uesugi was excited. Now that school was finally out for a while, he would have all the time in the world to catch up on some of the studying he felt he had missed out on. To most people his age, the idea of spending the summer break studying seemed like a waste. But to Futaro, it would be paradise.
It was the first night of summer break and Futaro was busy thumbing through a textbook. “This is great,” he said as he laid the book down and stretched. “Between school, homework, and tutoring those five, it seems like I never have time to do the studying I want to do. Now that summer break is finally here, I can do all the studying I want, when I want. Best of all, I don’t have to deal with those five everyday during the break.” He couldn’t help but let out a gleeful chuckle. Ever since he had become the tutor for the five Nakano sisters, his peaceful life had been turned upside down. Now would be the time for a little peace and quiet.
“What are you chuckling about Big Bro?” called a voice from the kitchen. It was Futaro’s younger sister Raiha.
“I’m just thinking about all the time I’m going to have to relax and study,” replied Futaro.
“You know most people wouldn’t use the words relax and study in the same sentence, right?” teased Raiha.
“She’s right,” added Futaro’s father as he entered the room and sat down next to the small dining table. “Instead of burying your nose in a textbook, you should be hanging out with friends and going on dates with cute girls.”
“I’m good,” said Futaro. “Let the normies spend the break hanging out with friends. In the end it won’t get them into a good university or get them a good job like studying can.” Suddenly a wicked expression came over his face. “As for dates, why should I bother with something like that. Most couples who start dating at this time of year are broken up by the end of the summer or not long after that anyways. While they’re busy having their romances and heartbreaks, I’ll be bettering myself through studying. Soon they’ll all see that it will be me standing at the top while they cry and snivel over the opportunities they wasted.”
“I think you stepped on a landmine, Dad,” said Raiha as she entered the room with a pot of curry. “Even still, Big Bro, I wish you would at least try to make more of an effort this summer to do something other than studying. After all, I’m worried that you’re not making the most out of this valuable opportunity. If you won’t do it for yourself, will you please try for me?”
“I’ll think about it,” replied Futaro as he tried to look away from his darling little sister’s gaze. Little did he know it, but his summer was about to get very chaotic.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Futaro arrived at the quintuplet’s apartment at around 11 o’clock the following morning. While he disliked the idea of having to use his summer break to tutor them, he was glad that he would only have to do it three times a week during the break. He knocked on the door and patiently waited. A moment later, a girl wearing wireless headphones around her neck opened the door. It was the middle quintuplet Miku Nakano. “Please come in,” she said.
Futaro entered the apartment and set his bag next to the coffee table they often used for studying. “Where are your sisters?”
“Ichika is at work, Nino is hanging out with friends, Yotsuba is helping out the basketball club, and Itsuki went to the library,” answered Miku. “It’s just us today.”
“Didn’t you remind them that we were going to have a tutoring session today?” asked Futaro.
“I tried, but they left before I could say anything,” replied Miku. Although in truth, she had made no such effort to remind the other girls about the tutoring session. After all, it wasn’t all that often that Miku had a chance to have Futaro all to herself and she was going to take full advantage of it.
“I see,” said a dejected Futaro. “Do they really want to avoid our tutoring sessions that much?”
“You still have me,” stated Miku, doing her best not to sound too excited. “Maybe we could use this time to study Japanese history. I mean if you want to, that is.” Ever since she had become aware of her own romantic feelings towards him, she couldn’t help but get nervous around him. She could feel those same nerves beginning to manifest now.
“That’s fine,” said Futaro as he tried to gather up what remained of his shattered confidence. Suddenly a low rumbling sound filled the room. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I overslept this morning and missed breakfast.”
“That’s all right,” blushed Miku. “I was just getting ready to take the croquettes I was making out of the oven. I made them for you since you seemed to like them so much last time. Take a seat and I’ll go get them.
“Great,” replied Futaro as he forced a smile, “I can’t wait.” While he found nothing wrong tastewise with Miku’s croquettes, Futaro was still a bit traumatized from the time that Miku had fed him so many croquettes that he’d thought he’d die. Just the very memory of the incident made his stomach hurt.
Miku came back a few minutes later carrying a plate of burnt croquettes and a bottle of ketchup. “I’m so sorry,” she said bowing her head, “I thought I finally got the temperature right, but it looks like I burned them again.” Futaro picked up and examined one of the burnt croquettes. It felt kind of hard. He could feel his stomach getting queasy. Miku noticed the uneasy look on Futaro’s face. “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to. We can just order some takeout or something.”
Miku had just given Futaro a way out of the situation. As he prepared to say something, he noticed that Miku had tears welling up in her eyes. It was likely from the embarrassment at having failed once again at her latest attempt at cooking. Futaro lowered his gaze and for the first time noticed that Miku’s fingers were covered with small bandages. He knew in an instant how hard she must have tried to make these for him. Strengthening his resolve, Futaro bit down on the croquette in his hand. It tasted burnt and incredibly salty.
“It’s bad isn’t it,” whimpered Miku. “Don’t force yourself to eat anymore. I’ll go dispose of the rest of it.” As Miku reached for the plate, Futaro grabbed the plate and pulled it just out of her reach.
“It’s not that bad at all. Maybe a bit burnt and salty, but it’s edible,” smiled Futaro as he finished off the first croquette. He then grabbed another.
“Really?” blushed Miku as she used the sides of her hands to wipe away tears of happiness forming in the corners of her eyes.
“I wouldn’t mind something to drink though,” said Futaro.
“I’m on it,” smiled Miku. A moment later she came back with a couple cans of matcha soda. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” replied Futaro as he took the can from her. In truth, he didn’t care much for the taste of matcha soda, but he didn’t want to be rude either. As Futaro ate the burnt croquettes, he listened to Miku talk about a historical drama she had seen the previous night about a feudal warlord. Before he knew it, an hour had past and, in that time, they had drunk two cans of matcha soda each.
As they began cleaning the plates in the sink, Futaro said, “After this we should probably get straight to studying.”
“That’s fine with me,” replied Miku. The two cans of matcha soda she had drunk earlier were now causing her to squirm a little bit. “I need to go take care of something. You should go get the work ready.
“Alright,” said Futaro as he watched Miku walk out of the kitchen. While he dried the dishes, he couldn’t help thinking it sucked only having one of the five sisters here. On the bright side though, at least the one he did have was the smartest of the bunch.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Miku had just entered the bathroom. She locked the door and walked over to the toilet. Miku lifted the lid and began pulling down her tights and panties. She gently lowered herself onto the seat. As she let the first few golden drops flow, she couldn’t help but notice that the sound seemed different from normal. Sensing that something was off, she cut off her flow, spread her legs as much as she could, and looked down into the toilet bowl below her.
Except for the few splatters of urine on the lower insides of the toilet and a small yellow pool at the bottom, the bowl itself was bone dry. Miku quickly stood up and backed away from the toilet for a better view. Sure enough, her eyes were not deceiving her. Attempting to fix the issue, Miku tried flushing the toilet, but nothing happened. Even jiggling the handle did nothing. She quickly pulled her clothes back up. Beginning to feel a bit desperate, she wondered if she should just go ahead and finish up or try to see if she could have Futaro fix it. Either way, he would see her urine in the toilet bowl. In the end, she decided it would be better to have Futaro try to fix it first. Little did she know that this decision would set off a chain of embarrassing events.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Futaro had just finished pulling out the assignments he had created for tutoring. As he was laying them on the coffee table, he noticed Miku standing behind him. “Are you ready to start learning?” he asked.
“About that…,” began Miku trying to find the right words to say, “do you think you could come take a look at something?” She was doing her best not to squirm, but she could tell the urge to pee had gotten stronger.
“I guess,” said Futaro. He then followed her to the bathroom. “So, what’s the issue?”
“I think the toilet might be broken,” answered Miku as she shut the door behind them.
“I’m not a plumber, but I guess I could take a peek,” he said as he walked over to the toilet and looked down. Sure enough, the inside of the bowl was pretty dry. Although as Futaro looked closer, he thought that the small pool of water at the bottom of the bowl had a yellowish hue to it. “My guess is that it’s probably clogged.”
“I didn’t clog it,” blurted Miku. “I only peed a little.” As soon as she said that she covered her mouth with her hands. She couldn’t believe that she had just admitted that to her crush.
“Did you say something?” asked Futaro trying to play if off. However, Miku could see that the tops of Futaro’s ears were bright red.
“Nothing,” mumbled Miku. “The plunger is on the side of the toilet.” She turned away as Futaro grabbed the plunger and began trying to fix the issue. It would only take a couple minutes of plunging before everything went wrong.
“Crap!” shouted Futaro as he stopped plunging. The sound of running water filled the room. Miku turned around and saw that the toilet bowl was beginning to fill much faster that it normally should.
“What’s going on?” she panicked.
“I don’t know. Maybe I did something when I unclogged it,” replied Futaro as he got down on his hands and knees. “I need to shut the water off before the toilet overflows.” All Miku could do was watch as the water rose ever faster while Futaro desperately tried to turn the water off. Luckily, he managed to do it with seconds to spare. Suddenly a rancid smell drifted up from the toilet, despite the water being fairly clear.
“What’s that smell?” gagged Miku.
“I’m not sure, but it smells like raw sewage,” he replied.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Miku as she bolted towards the door. However, in her haste she tripped and fell towards the door. She closed her eyes as a loud thud reverberated throughout the room followed by a clanging sound. As she opened her eyes, she realized that her face was pressed up against something rather soft and warm. Slowly lifting her head, she quickly realized that Futaro had thrown himself between her and the door. “Oh my God, are you okay?” asked Miku.
“I’m feeling just a little banged up, but other than that, I’m okay.” Futaro slowly raised his gaze up towards the door he had crashed into. Suddenly a look of horror flashed across his face. “Miku, where’s the doorhandle?” The two quickly looked around and much to their horror, found it lying on the ground. Futaro picked it up and desperately tried to reattach it, but to no avail.
“I think the smell’s getting worse,” said Miku as she did her best not to vomit.
“Try closing the lid and see if that helps,” commanded Futaro. “I’m going to see if I can knock the door down. As Miku closed the toilet lid, Futaro began ramming his shoulder into the door, but the door wouldn’t budge. After a couple of minutes, the pain beginning to grow in his shoulder forced him to stop. “It’s no good. I think we’re stuck in here until someone opens it from the other side. Do you think you can call one of your sisters to come let us out? My phone’s back in the living room.”
“Mine is too,” admitted Miku. “What do we do now?”
“We have no other choice but to wait,” answered Futaro. As he said it, he could feel the urge to pee slowly intensifying. If help didn’t come soon, things could get messy. Unfortunately for the two of them, help would not be arriving anytime soon.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Futaro estimated that at least three hours had passed since he and Miku had become locked in the bathroom. Luckily for them, Miku had been able to find some air freshener to keep the worst of the sewage smell at bay. However, there was a bigger problem to deal with. Both of them were now feeling an almost unbearable urge to pee that was getting worse with each passing second.
Miku was against the wall opposite the sink. She had done a pretty good job of hiding her desperation from Futaro for the first two hours or so, but she was now reaching her limit. Doing her best to keep her squirming to a minimum, she looked at Futaro to see how he was holding up. Just one look, and she knew he was at or near his limit too. “How much longer do you think until we’re rescued?” asked Miku as she shifted her body a bit. A burst of pain reverberated throughout her bladder as a couple drops leaked out. One false move and her slightly stained panties would be the least of her concerns.
“Hopefully soon,” panted Futaro. At this point he wasn’t sure which hurt worse, his shoulder or his bladder. The last time he had shifted positions, he had felt a little leak out. He quickly came to realize though that it hadn’t been enough for Miku to notice, but he knew he was on borrowed time. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the realization that he was in a lose-lose situation. As a guy, Futaro could easily use the sink if he had to, but if he did, Miku would see. Alternatively, if he wet himself, Miku and the other quintuplets would bare witness to it. While Miku, Yotsuba, and Ichika would likely be understanding of the situation. The other two, particularly Nino, would not. In fact, if Nino saw him do that, she would likely take a picture and threaten to post it around the school unless he resigned as their tutor. No matter how he looked at it, his pride was going to take a hit.
Another fifteen minutes passed, before Futaro came to a decision. He slowly rose to his feet, doing his best not to spring another leak. Miku noticed this and asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’ve hit my limit,” admitted Futaro. “If I don’t go now, I’m afraid I’m going to wet myself.”
“But the toilet’s broken,” stated Miku. “Where could you possibly go?
“The sink,” answered Futaro as he turned his back to her. “Please try to look away.” He took a step towards the sink. Suddenly he felt something pull on his pant leg.
“There is no way I’m letting you do that in here. Please just try to hold it,” commanded Miku.
“I can’t,” cried Futaro. “If I wet myself before your sisters come rescue us, Nino might use this incident as blackmail to get me to resign. If she succeeds, I won’t be your tutor anymore.” Miku felt her heart tighten. If Futaro wasn’t their tutor anymore, then she wouldn’t get to be with him as often. She couldn’t bare to have that happen.
“Alright,” relented Miku as she released his pant leg. “Just try to do it quickly.”
“Thank you,” nodded Futaro as he stepped towards the sink. He quickly unzipped his pants and whipped out his dick. Within seconds he had a full stream cascading into the sink. He couldn’t help but moan in relief. As he looked at the bathroom mirror behind the sink, a look of horror crossed his face. From the corner of the mirror, he could see Miku sitting on the floor against the wall trying to avert her gaze. Her face was flushed with a combination of embarrassment and her own desperate need to urinate. It was obvious that she could see everything by looking at the mirror. It was at that point that Futaro wanted to crawl into a hole and die. However, he kept pushing forward, doing his best to block any view that Miku might have of him if her eye happened to wander towards the mirror.
It would take about two minutes for Futaro to completely empty his bladder. Once he was finished, he zipped up and turned on the sink to try to wash away any residual evidence. He then turned to Miku who was now bent forward in desperation. Futaro quickly squatted down to her level and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t think I can hold out much longer,” she whined.
“You should use the sink. I can turn my back and…”
“There is no way I can do something that embarrassing,” she cried.
“What’s more embarrassing,” asked Futaro, “peeing in the sink or wetting yourself?”
“I guess wetting,” admitted Miku as she felt a little bit squirt out. “But even if I was willing to pee in the sink, I don’t think I could get up without wetting myself.”
“I’ll help you up,” replied Futaro, “if you want me to, that is.” Miku nodded in agreement. Futaro had Miku throw her arms around his shoulders as he gently placed his arms around her midsection. Then as if the two were in perfect sync, the two slowly stood up. Miku let out a high-pitched squeak as another spurt made its way into her panties. “Everything alright?” asked Futaro.
“I think a little came out,” muttered Miku. At this point she didn’t care if he knew or not. Her main concern was to make sure she didn’t drench herself in front of him. The moment they were next to the sink, Miku came to a horrifying realization. In her current state, there was no way she was going to be able to pull down her tights and panties without having a catastrophic accident. “Hey Futaro, can I ask you for a favor?”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” said Futaro. He could tell by the tone of her voice that it was something embarrassing. However, he was not expecting to hear what came next.
“Could you take off my tights and panties for me?” Miku noticed the look of shock on Futaro’s face. “I’d do it myself, but I think I might leak all over the floor if I try to bend down.”
“Ok,” stuttered Futaro as he got behind her. Miku grabbed hold of his hands and guided them up her skirt. Once he had a hold of the tights and panties, he slowly pulled them down her legs, all the while averting his gaze. “They’re off now,” he said. He was doing his best to keep his cool, but even he noticed his voice cracking. “I’ll just turn my back now.” He then turned around and a took a couple of steps towards the wall.
Miku slowly turned around and faced the sink. She wondered how she should go about it. One method that came to mind was to try to do a sort of standing position like Futaro did. The more she thought about it however, the more she realized she would likely end up getting it all over legs. Another method would be to turn around and sit above the sink basin. While it would be more efficient than the first method, it came with a major risk. If Futaro happened to turn around, he would see her lady parts and she wasn’t ready for him to see that yet. She paused for a moment. What do I mean yet!? Miku could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. Realizing that she was running out of time, she slapped her cheeks in a desperate attempt to regain her concentration. Just then, a third option popped into her head. She could try to climb up the sink, face the mirror, and either straddle the basin or attempt a hover squat.
As she mulled the options over in her head, she felt something begin to drip down her inner thigh. She was going to burst any second. Moving as quickly as she could, she climbed up onto sink. Facing the mirror, she squatted as best she could over the sink. Clenching her fists, she gently placed them up against the mirror for support. Within seconds, she felt the first few droplets coming out. The sound of pee hitting the porcelain sink reminded her of a dripping faucet. Surely Futaro must have thought so too. Wanting to get the situation over quicker, she tried giving her stream a little push. While she was able to get her stream to medium strength, she also ended up letting out a high-pitched squeak. Only this one didn’t come out of her mouth.
Miku’s face turned a darker shade of red than before. I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST DID THAT!!! she screamed internally. She took a couple deep breaths to try to calm herself. Maybe he didn’t hear it. I mean it could have been blocked out by my stream, right? Her curiosity getting the best of her, she slowly turned her head around and saw that the back of Futaro’s ears were dark red. HE HEARD!!! She placed her hands to her face to try to hide her embarrassment. In doing so, however, she lost her balance and began to fall backwards, her spray splashing against the mirror.
Suddenly she felt something grab hold of her. Looking up, she saw it was Futaro. He had his forearms under each of her thighs while his hands had come to rest on her inner thighs. He had leaned his chest forward in attempt to offer some form of support. “What the hell are you doing?” he screamed. “Why didn’t you just sit? Don’t you know how dangerous that could have been if I hadn’t caught you?”
“I’m sorry,” sniffled Miku. “I thought you might turn around and look so I decided to try to turn around and squat instead.” By this point she had been able to cut off her stream, but the damage to the mirror had been done. Futaro could feel Miku’s body quivering.
“Miku, you can trust me when I say that I won’t turn around or when I say I’ve got your back,” said Futaro in a reassuring tone. “I mean we’re partners after all.”
“You’re right,” she replied as she wiped away tears from the corners of her eyes. “What do we do now?”
“Do you still have to go?”
“Yes,” answered Miku.
“Well then I guess I have no other choice but to try to support you. Don’t worry, I won’t look,” said Futaro.
“Ok,” blushed Miku as she returned her gaze to the mirror. Sure enough, Futaro’s eyes were tightly closed. “I’m going to try to finish up now.” Miku restarted her stream, which by this time had become more of a spray and watched as it rained down into the sink. She couldn’t help but notice that some of the droplets were landing on the outsides of the sink, but she reasoned that she would be able to clean it up later. As she watched some of the droplets go astray, she realized that her inner thighs were starting to get splashed too. Squinting at the mirror, she could see what looked like piss droplets forming on the backs of Futaro’s hands. “I’m so sorry,” she screamed as she tried to adjust her stream to prevent further splashing.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Futaro. “Just try to finish up as quickly as you can. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.” Miku could feel Futaro’s body trembling. It reminded her of the festival when he had tried to carry her after her foot was injured.
Before she could say anything further, they heard what sounded like a door opening followed by some chatter. Then they heard a female voice call out, “Is anybody here?” It was Ichika.
“I see Futaro’s bag so he must be here,” replied Yotsuba.
“It’s a bit strange though that he left his phone out on the table,” said Itsuki.
“Looks like Miku left her phone on the table too,” added Nino. “I wonder where those two could be.”
“Crap,” replied Futaro as he overheard the conversation going on outside. “If they catch us like this, Nino will kill me.” Just then he felt a sharp pain reverberate throughout his back shoulder. The strength in his arms and legs faded and before he had time to react, he felt himself fall backwards. As he lay on the floor, he felt something heavy on top of him followed by a warm and wet sensation seeping down the crotch of his pants. His first thought was that he had wet himself when he fell. However, that quickly changed when he realized that Miku was sitting on top of him, her body quivering.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Futaro understood in an instant what that wet feeling was.
“It’s alright,” he whispered back as he sat up.
Just then the two heard Ichika say, “Did anybody here that thud just now?”
“I think it came from the bathroom,” added Itsuki.
Realizing that they were running out of time, Futaro sprang into action. He quickly grabbed some toilet paper and tossed it to Miku. He then grabbed the tights she had been wearing and used them to clean the spray off the mirror. Futaro then did his best to try to wipe up or wash away the remaining evidence. He was almost done when he heard the door handle turn on the other side. However, the door did not open.
“What the hell is with this door?” grunted Nino as she tried to force it open.
“Let me try,” yelled Yotsuba. Futaro felt a chill run down his spine as the door began to move. Thinking quickly, he threw the soiled tights behind some cleaning supplies in the cabinet under the sink. Just as he closed the cabinet door, the bathroom door swung open hitting him upside the head and sent him sprawling backwards onto the tile floor. “Oh my God! Futaro are you okay!” cried Yotsuba.
“I think so,” replied Futaro still a little dazed. As he sat up, a camera flash went off. Looking up, he saw that Nino was holding her cellphone. A wicked smile crossed her face
“Never would have figured you for a pants wetter,” taunted Nino. “Just wait until everybody at school sees this.” Futaro could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Suddenly the cellphone was yanked out of Nino’s hands. “Hey,” screamed Nino as she spun around.
“There will be none of that,” said Ichika as she slipped the phone into her pocket. She then walked over to Futaro and offered him a hand. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” Ichika helped Futaro to his feet and escorted him out of the bathroom.
“What about my phone?” screamed Nino.
“You can have it back later once I’ve had a chance to delete the evidence,” laughed Ichika.
“No fair!” yelled Nino before stomping off in defeat.
“Thank you,” said Futaro as he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Don’t mention it, that’s what big sisters are supposed to do,” smiled Ichika as she gave a quick glance back and a knowing nod towards Miku who was just exiting the bathroom.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Not long after getting out of the bath, Futaro donned a shirt and pair of pants Ichika and left for him. He then entered the living room and was surprised to see what looked like a suitcase and a couple cardboard boxes. “What’s this about?” asked Futaro as he looked at the suitcase. It kind of reminded him of the one he had at home.
“Raiha and your dad came by while you were in the bath and dropped it off,” said Itsuki.
“Is that stuff you’re going to use to tutor us?” asked Yotsuba. Futaro could tell she was curious by the way she was hovering around the suitcase and boxes.
“Maybe Futaro’s moving in with us,” joked Ichika. As soon as she said it, she noticed that Miku’s face had gone beet red. Ichika nudged Miku with her arm and said, “If he does, maybe he can stay in your room with you. I mean that’d make you happy, right?”
“Ichika!” blushed Miku. Miku then turned her attention to Futaro. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that he had been too absorbed in the mysterious packages to have heard what Ichika had said.
“There is no way that I would ever let a loser like him move in here,” grunted Nino. Just then her cellphone rang. She answered the phone. “Hi Daddy, what can I do for you?” There was a pause. “Yes, all the girls are here. Futaro too.” Another pause. “Okay, I’ll put the phone on speaker.”
“Greetings my darling daughters and greetings to Uesugi as well,” said the male voice on the other line.
“Hello Daddy,” said the other four quintuplets in unison.
“Hello sir,” replied Futaro.
“I have something important that I want to discuss with you all,” began Mr. Nakano. “It has recently come to my attention that the girls’ grades are still not up to par with my expectations. While I am proud to see that your grades have improved under Uesugi’s tutelage there is still much room for improvement. That said, I have come up with a great solution. Starting today until the break is over, Uesugi will be staying at the apartment as a live-in tutor.”
“What?” screamed the quintuplets in unison.
“But sir…,” began Futaro.
“The decision has already been made and Uesugi’s father has given his consent,” interrupted Mr. Nakano. “My darling girls, think of this as a summer study camp and learn as much as you can. Uesugi, make sure my daughters learn plenty and start showing greater results. If you fail, I will be forced to ask for your resignation. Is that clear?”
“You got it Pops,” stuttered Futaro. He could feel himself sweating bullets.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to call me Pops,” grunted the man on the other line. “Before I hang-up I have one last thing to say to Uesugi. Uesugi please take me off speaker.”
“Yes sir,” said Futaro as he picked up the phone and took it off speaker.
“Just so you are aware, I am entrusting you with the care of my five daughters. Should I find out that you have done anything untoward to any of them during your stay, I assure you that your resignation as their tutor will be the least of your worries. Do I make myself clear?” Mr. Nakano’s tone sent shivers down Futaro’s spine.
“Crystal clear sir,” gulped Futaro.
“All right then,” said Mr. Nakano, “I wish you the best of luck and hope to see great results from your efforts.” With that, the phone call ended.
“I’m so screwed,” muttered Futaro under his breath as he dropped to his knees.
“Don’t worry Futaro,” smiled Yotsuba, “we’re going to have lots of fun.” She then gave Futaro a playful slap on the back. Futaro let out a painful scream as he fell forward. Before any of the other girls had time to react, Miku had knelt beside him. Then without hesitation, she lifted his shirt. All the girls gasped at the large blackish purple bruise running along his back and shoulder. “Oh my God!” panicked Yotsuba, “I didn’t think I hit him that hard.”
“You didn’t,” replied Miku. “This must have happened when he stopped me from crashing into the door earlier. We should probably take him to a doctor.”
“No,” panted Futaro as he did his best to prop himself up. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain emanating from his back and shoulder or the exhaustion from the day’s events, but he found it difficult to move. “I’m fine. I just need a bit of rest.”
“But…” began Miku.
“Ok Futaro, if that’s what you want,” interjected Ichika. She then turned to Yotsuba. “Do you still have that cream you used to use for bruises?”
“I think so,” replied Yotsuba. “I’ll go check.”
“That would be great if you could,” said Ichika. “Also see if you can find some bandages.” Ichika then walked over to Futaro and helped him up. “Let’s get you to bed. You can sleep in Miku’s room and Miku will sleep with me.” Ichika turned to look at Miku. “Is that all right with you Miku?” Miku nodded in agreement. The two girls then helped Futaro up the stairs.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Futaro was laying on his non-bruised side. It had been almost an hour since Miku and Ichika had laid him down. He was almost asleep when he heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Miku came into the room. She was carrying what looked like a canister of medicinal cream and some bandages.
“Can you remove your shirt for me?” she asked as she walked over to him. Futaro nodded his head and removed his shirt. “Please lay flat on your stomach,” she softly commanded. Futaro did as what he was told. His body tensed up a bit as Miku began applying the cream to his bruises. It felt both hot and cold. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“No,” replied Futaro. “It kind of feels good actually.” Suddenly he felt Miku’s hands tense up followed by something dripping on his back. As he turned his head, he saw that Miku was crying. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” sobbed Miku. “This is all my fault. If you hadn’t protected me, you wouldn’t have been injured.”
“That’s probably true,” agreed Futaro. “However, I’m still glad I did it. Truth be told I would probably do it again too.”
“Why?” asked Miku.
“Because you’re my partner,” yawned Futaro. “Besides, I’m sure if our roles had been reversed you would have done something similar.”
“You’re right,” blushed Miku. Not long after rubbing the cream in, she bandaged his back and shoulder and helped him get his shirt back on. “Good night Futaro.”
“G’night Miku,” mumbled Futaro as he drifted off to sleep. As Miku left the room, she couldn’t help but feel that they had gotten a bit closer.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Meanwhile in the bathroom downstairs, Nino had noticed that the mirror seemed rather smudged. She squatted down and opened the cabinet drawer. As she moved some of the cleaning supplies around, something caught her attention. “What’s this?” she asked herself as she pulled out a wadded-up piece of black fabric. As she straightened out the cloth, she realized that it was Miku’s tights. As she looked closer, the smell of piss wafted off the tights. “Something clearly happened here and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.” She angrily clenched the soiled cloth in her hand. “And when I do, it will be bye bye Futaro.” The very thought of getting rid of him brought a wicked grin to her face. “After all, this place is meant to be just for us sisters.” |
Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this, my longest EVER commission for Omorashi.org, clocking in at OVER 22,000 words!
If you want one commissioned for yourself, please DM me!
Otherwise, enjoy! 🙂
THE MARVEL HYPNOSIS CRISIS
Kamala Khan raced through the city, stretching her arms out in several punching attacks; trying to strike her nemesis. Unfortunately, Becky was fast and her plasma armour’s speed made cornering her difficult. Kamala’s fists smashed uselessly against walls, bins and one very unlucky pigeon, however, she soon spotted an opening. As her arch-nemesis fled inside a building, she activated the speed dial on her mobile.
‘Nakia, Zoe, Becky’s gone inside the building! Cut her off!’ said Kamala, preparing her body to break into the building; inflating her fists to the size of trash cans.
‘Let’s get this bitch’.
Zoe’s words were immediately followed by the sound of Kamala’s fists punching through solid brick wall, as she raced inside. She was prepared for a fight, her classic superhero gear; based on her idol, Carol Danvers: A red, yellow and blue bodysuit, though her bottom half was largely red-tights and thick blue boots, yet it never dulled her enthusiasm for saving lives. Even if she didn’t look as good as Carol doing it, something Kamala had said to others at least a million times was: ‘Totally impossible, she’s perfect!’, she never stopped trying.
Today, was another opportunity to prove that. Kamala’s arch-nemesis: ‘Lockdown’; though her real name was Rebecca St. Jude, had robbed a bank of several million dollars just over a month ago, using the money to fund some two-bit supervillain tech that Kamala and her friends had tracked to this abandoned apartment building. Nakia and Zoe were dressed in their tacky but enthusiastic Ms. Marvel costumes, ready to help their friend.
‘Embiggen!’ shouted Kamala, as she grew herself to be 8ft. tall; before smashing a wall that separated Lockdown from the trio of heroes.
Unfortunately, they had walked right into her trap.
For less than a second, Kamala, Nakia and Zoe could see they were staring at an advanced hypnosis machine; all three of them trapped within the chamber, while Becky stood at the other side of its harmful rays. She’d been playing with them the whole time and though Kamala tried to fight it, with seconds; all three heroes had been frozen. They could only stare in horror, as the ginger haired villainess approached them. Her shiny blue plasma armour glinted in the dim light, while her smile shone with evil; contemptuous malice. Even on her freckled face, it was still incredibly horrifying in its cruelty.
‘Well then. Now that I have you three under my command… let’s try some simple commands… stand on one foot!’.
All three heroines instantly obliged, despite their minds screaming at them not to.
‘Zoe, spank Nakia’s ass’ said Lockdown; indulging in her petty, yet dangerous levels of power and personal hatred.
Zoe’s head collided against Nakia’s bum less than one-second later, with both women internally blushing and cringing; yet Lockdown was in charge now. All they could do was try to fight, yet the effects were too powerful.
‘Nakia, run into that wall’.
Immediately, Nakia began sprinting towards the far-left wall and after several seconds, crashed into it with a painful thud; falling, in pain, against the floor. Lockdown laughed cruelly.
‘Oh this is going to be fun… hmm? For you Kamala… let’s see… wet yourself’.
Kamala’s eyes widened as she felt her body respond, despite every order in her brain screaming to disobey. But it was too late. Kamala found her arms and legs trembling badly, before she felt streams of hot, thick piss running down her red tights, sliding into her boots and forming a puddle around her. Lockdown’s eyes widened in shock; before she broke into laughter; the horrible kind that comes from a bully with power.
‘You’ll do anything I say… oh… OH THIS SHALL BE FUN’.
THE NEXT MORNING
Kamala Khan’s eyes slowly drifted open, moaning from the aches and pains in her body, as she looked around. She was in her dorm room with her friends Zoe and Nakia, both in sleeping bags at either side of her bed. Zoe was wearing a dark blue pair of pyjamas, Nakia, a green-eco-friendly pair with symbols of green-peace on it. Everything seemed normal, though Kamala felt strange.
‘How did we get here? What happened? Why can’t I remember last night?’.
Feeling freaked out, Kamala looked around the room for any clues as to why her memory was gone and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted her room’s wooden cabinet: Resting on top of a replica of Captain America’s shield were half a dozen empty vodka bottles and as her groggy mind properly woke up, she could see a bunch of glasses around the room. Kamala breathed a sigh of relief. Now she remembered what had happened: They were celebrating Lockdown’s recent imprisonment, largely thanks to their exposure of her crimes. Clearly, they had let their celebrations get too out of hand.
‘God, superheroes should not be allowed to get this drun- OW, my head’ said Kamala, moaning from the hangover; an intense splitting sensation between her eyes.
‘This is going to be a fun morning’.
Over the next half hour, Zoe and Nakia were slowly coaxed back to the land of the living, a mixture of water bottles and cold flannels giving them the ability to think somewhat clearly again.
‘I can’t believe we got so wasted!’ said Nakia, shocked.
‘Honestly, this isn’t even that bad compared to what I used to do’ said Zoe. ‘I’m not proud of it anymore’ she said defensively, as Nakia gave her a judging look. ‘But frat parties are wild, so I’m kind of used to it’.
‘I swear, I am never drinking again’ said Kamala, still trying to nurse the headache from her skull.
‘Lies!’ said Nakia and Zoe simultaneously, laughing.
Over the next few minutes, the girls got dressed and went their separate ways; continuing on with their normal days. However, Zoe and Nakia soon began to notice that something wasn’t right. Zoe was out shopping, looking for a new pair of crop shorts; hoping to impress Nakia, when she began to feel an uncomfortable twinge in her bladder.
‘Piss off’ she muttered; not seeing the irony, as she continued to look for new outfits.
However, as time went on, she found more and more of her attention being distracted. Despite not usually struggling with her bladder, Zoe found herself swaying on her feet; doing a slight pee-pee dance behind the changing room curtains, as she changed between blue and red crop shorts, tried on different shirts and generally wondered how much she could spend on her credit card before her overdraft ran out. During this time however, her bladder let her get no peace. Now desperately crossing her legs, Zoe realised that she had badly underestimated her need to go and stumbled from the changing room, one hand down her tight blue crop shorts, trying to hold on for long enough to find the toilets.
Spotting them across the food court, Zoe breathed a sigh of relief and began squirming towards them; still desperately holding herself like a little girl, as children and parents alike stared at her disapprovingly.
‘God this is so cringe!’ thought Zoe, as she reached the halfway point towards the toilets. ‘I look like a little fucking girl. Well, at least I’m nearly… no! Oh my god no!
Zoe felt a burst of pee spray through her fingers, soaking the red panties underneath her crop shorts; while leaving a golf-ball sized wet spot on her shorts. Freezing still, more people turned to stare in confusion and then in shock, as they saw glistening wet patches running down the college student’s legs. Whispers, insults and laughter began to ring out across the food court, as Zoe stood; rooted to the ground, her bladder totally giving way as her face turned bright red. She tried desperately to stop but it was too late and the gold-ball sized patch on her crop shorts became a soaking fountain, spreading from the front and around her bum; as Zoe began to completely wet herself.
Pee sprayed out around her in hot golden streams, soaking into her socks, trainers and gathering in a puddle, while Zoe’s body trembled; the young woman herself lost to shock and dismay.
‘I can’t believe it! How could I have an accident?! OMG, this is the worst thing ever! I’m acting like a fucking nine-year old! What is wrong with me?!’.
Unseen to her, a young woman’s IPhone recorded Zoe’s public accident from among the crowd, as a devious laugh was supressed.
Meanwhile, Nakia wasn’t doing much better. She and a group of college friends had been protesting outside of a Starbucks, a dozen or so of them holding placards and handing out leaflets to any passers who would listen. They were campaigning for fair-trade prices for all cocoa bean farmers who supplied the mega-bean corporation, something Nakia had been invested in ever since she had spent an evening watching a documentary about it with Zoe; crying into her shoulder for most of it.
Unfortunately, it was a rainy Sunday and those who were out on the streets weren’t especially motivated to take flyers, most mumbling empty courtesies, a few throwing insults. Nakia was not thrilled at having been called a: ‘Socialist slag’ five separate times, just for insisting farmers be paid a decent wage. However, something else was troubling her even more. Since arriving, she’d had an upset stomach, cramping up at in-opportune moments and causing her to nearly double over in pain.
Not wanting to leave the handful of her fellow protestors; as she was their unofficial leader, she’d fought through it but now, a new and hideously embarrassing side-effect had begun to make itself known.
‘BRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH’.
Nakia groaned quietly as she felt a thick fart burst from her bottom, a thin high pitch whine in the Sunday rain, as her tightly jean-clad bum stretched from the effort of releasing such a loud, long fart. Still relatively quiet; drowned out by the ambience of the street, her fellow protestors hadn’t noticed her doing it but they were already smelling it.
‘Oh god, that’s foul, WTF!’.
‘Why does it smell like a dead rat here?’.
‘Council doesn’t give a shit about repairing the sewers, too busy taking all-expenses holidays, while we still have homeless everywhere. God, that reeks!’.
Nakia blushed with embarrassment, glad no-one realised it was her but also feeling incredibly uncomfortable.
‘Come on, get it together!’ she said to herself. ‘You’re not some dickhead boy at highschool, stop letting these rip! You’re trying to help people, people who need you! Focus, deep breaths and control the butt! (Inhales) That’s it! (Exhales) I can do this (Inhales) I can keep control (Exhales) and nothing will stop m-’.
‘PPPPPPPPRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSQQQQQQQQQQQQQQEEEEEEESSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHPPRRRRRFFFFFFFSSSSSSQQQQQQHHHHEEEESSSSSH’.
Nakia’s fart was so loud and unexpected, it not only turned all of her fellow protestor’s heads instantly towards her but several people on the streets nearby, who shook their heads contemptuously at her. If that had been it, Nakia’s cheeks; burning red as they now were, might have shown enough embarrassment from that alone. However, the smell was already filling people’s noses and her friends began to gag, tears filling their eyes; simultaneously laughing and appalled, as the horrid gassy smell wafted in through their noses, almost unspeakably bad for a bum as cute, perky and small as Nakia’s.
‘Oh my god Nakia, what kind of processed shit are you eating?’.
‘That’s foul!’.
‘What the hell, can you not Nakia? I feel like I can hardly breath!’.
‘Call the Avengers, someone just let off a dirty bomb in the city!’.
Nakia trembled in fear, trying to laugh off the teasing but she was utterly repulsed. Not just by the enormous fart that she had just shared with her friends but because; right now, Nakia Bahadir, a young, talented, passionate Muslim woman: Bold, creative and brave, had just completely shit herself like a pre-school child, right in front of her friends. It had started as soon as the fart came out, her anus opening up completely against her will and a thick, mushy log of shit pouring into her tight white cotton panties. A river of poo had then flooded forth, completely filling her underwear, squishing against her bum and causing small pieces to begin running down the inside of her blue jeans and down her legs.
Nakia’s only saving grace was that; due to her hatred of western thongs, she wore boring thick grandma-style panties, as well as a green coat that was hanging down to her knees. Elsewise, a mountain of Nakia’s shit would have been visible under her clothes; rather than the thick, wet brown spot; hidden underneath her coat, that had turned that area of her blue jeans, dark, soggy brown.
‘You okay Nakia? You look pale…’.
‘Y-yeah, I’m fine! I-I just, n-need, bathroom. Period stuff’ she said weakly, before rushing away; her walk awkward, trying not to drop more shit down her trousers.
The protests looked at each other, confused.
‘What was that about?’ asked one of them.
A young woman; around their age, with dark red hair and a wicked smile, took a pamphlet from one of their hands, giggling.
‘Oh don’t worry about your friend… I’m sure she’ll be just fine’.
Nakia practically fell into the restaurant toilet, bolting the cubicle door behind her and breathing heavily for several seconds trying to calm her racing heart.
‘Oh my god, I just shit myself, again! What the hell is going on today?’.
Nakia slowly; groaning with disgust, pulled down her filthy jeans off her legs and was horrified at the mess: Dirty, brown shit; with an absolutely foul stench of homemade egg and cress sandwiches, was covering her underclothes and her bum felt like she might as well be wearing an overfilled diaper: So utterly clogged and filthy were her panties. Pouring what shit she could from them and her jeans into the toilet, she managed to clean the worst smearing off her legs with the help of some tissues and soap in her green backpack; though she’d need at least scolding showers before she felt truly clean again.
The panties; despite her best efforts, were pretty much-a-write off, so she placed them into a side pouch of her backpack, along with a thick red pair from this morning, which had several skid-marks and pee stains in them, causing Nakia to roll her eyes at the sight. Having an accident while walking to the protest had been bad enough, wearing the spare-set of panties from the clothes she kept in her backpack in case a friend was raped was worse; yet to then have another accident?!
‘I must be stressing out too much!’ thought Nakia, though she didn’t entirely believe it. ‘Guess I need to take things easier for a while. Maybe stick to online activism for a bit. I’ll worry about that later though…’.
Nakia exited the bathroom, relieved no-one had entered while she cleaned herself up; though unbeknownst to her, Becky had caught the entire thing on tape via a hidden camera in the ventilation shaft. Walking out of the restaurant, she began to make her way home; determined to have a shower and put this weird day behind her. However, around halfway there, Nakia grimaced as she felt her tummy rumbling in a familiar and frightening way.
‘Oh no! Not again!’.
Kamala by contrast was going through changes of her own; however, the way she responded was quite different. The hypnotic programming for Kamala was far more advanced and so, the young heroine didn’t see anything out of place with her behaviour, as she began to do some combat training in her dorm room.
‘Alright Kamala, you got this, you got this… noIdon’tgotthis!’ she screamed, falling on her ass; as her attempt to do a backflip kick failed.
Shrinking the wrong parts of her body had caused her to do an inadvertent splits and she struggled to get back up again. However, as she was doing this, a loud fart ripped from between her bum, causing both bum cheeks to increase to an obscenely large level. The cheeks expanded, now both the side of dinner-trays; thick as two car tires, with a fleshy tightness that allowed Kamala to sway to her feet but then left her unsteady.
‘Woah, easy dumb butt, let’s get you under control!’.
Practicing her kicks, Kamala felt another fart building but decided to keep training. Her black hair flew over her shoulders as she kept enlarging parts of her body, practicing hits on a punching bag; though a series of small farts escaped her tightly held butthole.
‘Prrrrfffhhhh’.
‘Pffffffff’.
‘Prrrfhhssss’.
As Kamala kept practicing, she suddenly felt a much larger one rip free; enlarging her butt massively, to the point that she found herself suddenly off-balance again.
‘Crap!’.
She hit the floor softly; thanks to enlarging her arms to a cushy size, however the impact caused a massive pain in her tummy and massively expanded her ass, to the point that it was now four times larger than the thighs and torso it was attached too.
‘Come on body, work with me’ begged Kamala, frustrated that her usual training issues were playing up today.
Of course they weren’t normal at all, however Kamala no longer knew that. Half-a-mile away, the-red haired villainess sat; crying with evil laughter, as she watched her computer monitor with incredible glee. Watching Kamala act like this was the most fun she’d had in months and she kept slapping the table in amusement, struggling to breathe through the laughter, as she saw the heroine fall over from her massively over-inflated ass and high-powered farts.
Becky’s legs were trembling with intense laughter and she sat in a white-skirt, red-shirt and red thong panties, at the secret hideout she had made her own. Admittedly, it was just a rented apartment with stolen money and a false name but still! It was a villainess’s hideout! That had to be impressive!
As she kept laughing, Becky suddenly felt a burst of pee soak her red-thong panties and immediately straightened up; no longer laughing, as she shook off the laughter.
‘That wasn’t pee… that was sweat! Unlike those idiots, I don’t just have accidents like a toddler when I need to go! I use the bathroom whenever I want and don’t need to rush’.
Despite this thought, Becky hurriedly stood up and raced to the toilet; just to make sure she had no further leaks…
Meanwhile, Kamala’s overstretched body; in more ways than one, had reached its limit. Kamala felt what was happening a few seconds before it did and though she brought her knees tightly together, it didn’t stop what came next.
‘Oh not this again!’ moaned Kamala but it was too late.
Kamala Khan’s training shots began to get soaked with piss, as the young hero lost control of her bladder. Pee burst through her blue Captain Marvel underwear and into the white-shorts, turning them a light yellow shade, as a series of stinky fishy farts continued to pulsate from her butt. Kamala let out a high pitch whine, as her enlarged butt dumped pee all over her legs and knees. She had; in her memories at least, experienced this dozens of times before, so was used to it by now but still didn’t enjoy the feeling and waited impatiently for it to be over.
‘Ugh, so gross’ moaned Kamala, as her accident finally stopped and she lay; stretched out, in a large puddle of pee.
She knew it was the price she paid for being an inhuman, for being super-powered and able to help save the world. Even so, she hoped; in a few more years, she’d grow out of it completely. Until then, she just needed to control it, especially as; to her delight, she had a training session with her idol and role model, Carol Danvers AKA Captain Marvel, in just a few short weeks.
Kamala was determined everything would go perfectly and resolved herself to keep training in preparation, so she could impress her hero.
‘I’ll do that’ decided Kamala. ‘Right after I get out of these wet clothes!’.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Kamala was breathing heavily, sweat on her brow, as she nervously knocked on the door of the log cabin. She knew it was silly but Everytime she went to see her mentor and idol; Carol Danvers, it left her paralysed with fear when first arriving. Kamala worshipped the ground Carol walked on and as such, was constantly worried that Carol would one day grow mad at her for something she’d done or failed to do, refusing to help train her. In her worst nightmares, Carol would even demand Kamala no longer use her old moniker; the very thought of which had left her waking up in a cold sweat more than once.
Still, she needn’t have been worried, as Carol opened the door and smiled upon seeing Kamala.
‘Hey, you ready for some training?’ said Carol enthusiastically, punching her fist to an open-palm for dramatic effect.
Carol was dressed in her bomber jacket and a tight pair of dark blue jeans, her butt cheeks accentuated well by the fabric. Despite the fact she could enlarge and shrink her body, Kamala felt jealous at her idol’s natural beauty and then blushed; realising she’d been staring at her role model’s ass for way too long.
‘Y-yep, I’m ready, let’s do this!’.
The two walked to a training area Carol had set up in the trees, with dozens of targets: Plastic dummies, repurposed ULTRON drones, AIM tanks, all ready for them to demolish for practice. As they approached, neither noticed that they were beginning to show visible signs of being desperate for the toilet. Kamala had crossed her legs several times on the walk over, while Carol; having been hypnotically programmed by Kamala last night under trance, was regularly holding herself, one hand stuffed down her jeans and clutching a pair of slightly damp red panties against her trembling, overworked pussy.
For now, neither of them had noticed the other’s strange behaviour.
This was about to change.
‘Marvel, morpho punches, three tanks; on your left!’ shouted Carol.
Kamala’s enlarged fists punched through the AIM vehicles like paper, crushing their turrets underneath her fists; now hard as diamond.
‘Captain, photon blasts on Ultron drones at Point 2.5!’ responded Kamala, watching in awe as her hero blasted apart the training robots like they were made of clay.
‘I have such a girl crush, it’s embarrassing’ thought Kamala Khan; though it wasn’t romantic, just pure admiration.
The two were practicing combo-takedowns on enemy factions and for Kamala, it was a dream come true. Spending time with her hero; fighting bad guys… well, sort of. It would have been cooler if they were actual bad guys, not training drones; she thought. Still, she was sure they would get their chance soon enough.
‘Marvel, civvies to hero’ shouted Carol, Kamala nodding quickly.
In battle, sometimes a hero is launched into a fight before they can transform into their recognisable armour and costumes. However; as every hero with a secret identity knew, and even those who cared about basic branding, it was ill-advised to fight too long in civilian gear. As such, each would transform at a moment’s opportunity into their specialised costume and this was what Kamala now did. Throwing a STARK-tech nano-ejector towards Captain Marvel, she hit the button on her own and felt a tight costume slide over her body in a manner of femtoseconds; absorbing her regular clothes into the ejector, itself condensed into a pocket in their uniforms. There was just one problem…
‘Training drones, halt! Security override: Talos’.
The drones immediately stopped firing, as Carol Danvers looked towards Kamala; annoyed. Momentarily confused, the young heroine looked towards her mentor and blushed bright-red when she realised what had happened.
‘This is your gear! You’ve got them mixed up!’.
Carol Danvers body was now covered in the red, yellow and blue, homemade burkini suit that was Kamala’s superhero costume, while Kamala herself was now in Carol’s tight black and yellow leather: A retro costume that Carol used when training with Kamala. She had to admit, the change made her feel very powerful; embarrassed as she was, while Carol now looked like an overgrown high-school student, yellow locks running down, below her shoulders, with the red tights sticking tightly to her legs.
‘I’m so sorry Carol, I didn’t mean-’.
‘-You can’t make a mistake like that on the battlefield Kamala, it will waste time and lives could be lost’.
‘I-I know, I’m… I’m…’ Kamala tailed off, her face suddenly turning pale white.
‘… Kamala?’.
‘ARGH! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGGHGHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSS’.
Kamala screamed, clutching her belly intensely; as a sharp pain ripped through her from her thighs down to the bottom of her bum. It was immediately followed by an extremely loud fart, emanating from Kamala’s backside, as her perky young bottom suddenly tripled in size, pushing out the tight leather of Carol’s costume, while the young girl’s long, putrid fart and powers strained the suit’s integrity.
Carol stared in disbelief, as Kamala gaped in horror; wishing that a supervillain would just blow up the world, so she could be dead and not have to face her mentor’s response to her disgusting behaviour. However, rather than a scolding, Carol’s next reaction was one of mutual confusion, frustration and fear.
‘BRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! BRRRRRR!!!! BRRRRRRR!!!! PSRRFFFFFFFHHHHH!!!!!!’.
Carol let out a series of high-powered farts, each one causing photon blasts to rip through the back of Kamala’s tights; exposing Carol’s sexy, shaking bum to the young hero, causing her to blush scarlet red. The smell was awful, thick, intense; with an electric tanginess from the cosmic energy, as Carol stared down at her own body, bewildered.
‘What the hell?! Argh! BRRRRFFFFFFFPPPPPPHHHSHHSHSSH’.
Another round of intense, stinky photon farts blew through the hole in Carol’s suit, as Kamala recoiled from the smell.
‘Oh, gross, gross, gross! I’m literally dying’ she moaned, as Carol Danvers whole body turned scarlet red with embarrassment.
‘Kamala I’m so sorr… OH NO. No, no, no, no, no!’.
Captain Marvel screamed as a hot, wet blast of photon empowered shit blast straight from her asshole, spattering the forest floor beneath her at super-speed. Kamala stared in shock, while Carol looked horrified, as several less powerful bursts caused clumps of shit to run down the back of Carol’s legs; smudging over Kamala’s red tights. Kamala, practically struck dump until this moment, suddenly felt an intense pang of pain burst through her own body and gasped, as a huge streak of pee flooded through Carol’s tight black leather costume. It ran down Kamala’s exposed legs in several streams, as the young heroine felt lightheaded and shocked.
‘Oh god, I’m peeing Captain Marvel’s supersuit! No, no, no, this can’t be happening! Holy shit!’.
Her shock did not slow down the accident in the slightest however, as Kamala Khan continued to wet herself; piss forming into a puddle beneath her, while a sickening amount went down her black leather leggings and into her boots, her toes now sploshing around uncomfortably inside her own piss.
‘Argh, so gross, Captain, I’m so sorry!’ cried Kamala, tears running down her face.
The elder hero barely heard her, too busy crapping herself in a humiliating display to even fully register what had happened to Kamala. Carol couldn’t believe this was happening. She was Carol Danvers, a legendary hero; who had saved the world countless times. She was not a panty-pooping; obliterating in this case, little girl who couldn’t hold herself during training. She could not have been more mortified.
Kamala meanwhile was no less happy.
‘I can’t believe I’m having an accident in front of my hero! This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!’ thought Kamala, as she felt her stomach building up for one last; awful, display.
‘Oh god no. Please, please, no… ARGH!!!!’.
Kamala screamed, as she felt her butt enlarge to a ridiculously out of proportion size for her body; as Carol finally snapped out of her self-pity, realising what was happening to the young hero. Unfortunately, she could do nothing but watch as Kamala Khan let out the largest, smelliest, most horrific smelling fart that Carol had ever had the misfortune of coming near her nose, before the inevitable followed.
‘PPPPPPPRPRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSS!’.
Large, thick clumps of shit; extended well beyond human size by Kamala’s enlarged butt, began to slide from her exhausted asshole, pouring through her anus and stretching against the black-leather. Pulled to breaking point, the leather snapped open and Kamal’s knees trembled as piss and shit began to run down her bum, over her knees and down the back of her ankles; drenching her and her idol’s suit in filth. Mentally and physically exhausted, the immense pain of humiliation; yet physical relief of losing control, caused Kamala to collapse backwards, her massive bum falling into the pile of enormous shit she’d left on the forest floor. The young heroine sobbed; devastated, as more continued to push its way through, leaving her absolutely devastated.
Carol looked on sympathetically. Though she was incredibly embarrassed, she knew how much Kamala looked up to her and how devastating this must be on the young hero. Putting her own needs to the side, she walked; uncomfortably in her ruined clothes, up to the sobbing hero, whose accident had finally come to an end, offering her a hand up.
‘We obviously trained too hard today’ said Carol confidently, unaware that she was being hypnotically programmed to believe this. ‘Come on Kamala, let’s get cleaned up’.
Kamala looked up, tears in her eyes, though she didn’t take Carol’s hand; as her own were still covered in piss from when she’s tried to hold back her accident.
‘I don’t deserve any of this’ said Kamala despondently. ‘I’m not a hero, I’m just a stupid little girl from New Jersey. Just leave me’.
‘That’s an order Ms. Marvel’ said Carol more firmly. ‘You aren’t giving up because of this’.
‘The world still needs you’.
Kamala looked towards Carol again, who gave a slight nod of affection. Smiling weakly, she realised that Carol was right. No matter how embarrassing this was, she had to keep fighting to get stronger, better; more controlled. For all those who couldn’t.
Kamala Khan took Carol Danvers hand.
A FEW DAYS LATER
Jennifer Walters sat in her lawyer’s office, squirming at her desk. For the last several hours, she had been feeling an unusual need to use the bathroom that had been interfering with her regular legal practice. Normally, she arranged meetings with clients while in She-Hulk form; particularly with domestic abuse survivors, as it made them feel safer to be represented in court when going up against their abusers.
Yet today, she had been alternating between her forms at random and her body kept shifting between extremes. One minute, she had been fine; the next, she was squirming under her desk, her tight green legs clamped tightly together, as she tried not to piss herself in her pinstripe trousers while listening to cases where New York’s struggling women had been beaten halfway around the block by their former high-school sweethearts, turned mean drunks after their football careers had fallen through.
Right now, she was hearing a less serious case but unfortunately, that in and of itself was proving to be a problem for her, as this latest client had an unusual story to tell:
‘So, you’re saying the phone company experimented on you for their products by inserting computer chips in your ass?’ asked Jennifer in disbelief.
‘I know it sounds crazy but I have all the evidence right here!’ said the woman in her early 20’s, a thin, blonde with raggedy hair and deep blue eyes, wearing tight red jeans.
Jennifer looked over the paperwork and at first; while cynical, the answer to the weirdness of this case became abundantly clear. Moxwell Phones was a front business for the Kingpin; New York’s most notorious crime boss, which she had come across many times in her repeated legal battles in court, as well as superhero escapades.
Once, she and Spiderman had even had the unfortunate pleasure to end up in a three-way brawl with the muscle-bound madman. Terrifyingly, he had managed to go toe-to-toe with both of them for several minutes and even briefly knocked her unconscious with a metal beam, until Spiderman; badly injured but fighting on as ever, had done the same to him by chucking him into a stack of hundreds of loose gravel bags.
She figured that Fisk must be using this business as a front for human trafficking and drug smuggling, with the computer chips story being a lie told to unwitting and poorly educated marks; allowing them to move large amounts of cocaine discretely around the city, without their victims being marked by the FBI, superheroes or other criminal gangs as the usual couriers.
“Please say you believe me!’ begged the woman, tears in her eyes.
‘Mrs. Williams, I do’ said Jennifer sympathetically. ‘Please, explain your full story to me’.
As she said this, Jennifer regretted her words only seconds later as she felt a huge desire to fart building up in her ass and took a slow, deep breath in order to calm it down. Her bladder was aching and she cursed her luck for having attended training with Ms. Marvel, Spider-Woman, and Peggy Carter the other day, clearly having exhausted her body too much after recovering from a recent supervillain’s attempt to poison the eastern United States water supply.
Little did she know; at the end of that training session, when all the superheroines had gathered around a TV screen to review their training footage, Kamala had played a pre-recorded hypnosis video that had subtly programmed hypnotic behaviours into all of them, the main one of which was now affecting Jennifer.
‘I was applying for jobs, my rent was overdue and I needed money badly. Then, these two guys approached me in a bar and said that; for a few night’s work, I could get paid good money if I was willing to do some unorthodox stuff. I’m not prudish, I figured they just wanted sex but then they took me to this warehouse and I got really scared. I tried to leave but they wouldn’t let me and then they said that if I didn’t allow them to do their work, then they would hurt me and that I didn’t want to mess with their boss’.
Jennifer listened sympathetically but she was struggling to concentrate, as she noticed her thick, green arm was beginning to transform back into a light, creamy pale human one and she felt a long, silent fart slowly escape from her clenched buttocks; the smell of ham and honey sandwiches beginning to fill her nose, as she struggled not to gag. Hiding her arm, she tried to will her body to stay as the She-Hulk and clenched her legs tightly together; her intense need to pee and shit beginning to feel seriously painful.
‘Go on’ said Jennifer, her voice strained with the exertion of her now failing body beginning to break down.
‘They told me that they were going to put computer chips inside my ass as a test for their new products and said that if I went to certain places each day for a week, then I’d be paid $1000 at the end and no one need ever know. Every time I got to the locations, I’d get woozy and pass out for a few minutes, then wake up with my whole body feeling sore and scar marks on my butt’.
‘I think Kingpin’s, ah… gang, used you as a hmm, drug mule said Jennifer desperately, now bouncing in her seat repeatedly; as she felt a massive burst of tension building that she somehow knew would completely wreck her bladder control.
‘What?!’ screamed the woman. ‘Those bastards!’.
Jennifer; unable to take it any longer, rose to her feet and tried making her way to her office’s bathroom but Mrs. Williams blocked her path.
‘Mrs. Walters please, you’ve got to take my case! I know you’re a hero, you’ll help me, right? Please say you’ll help me?’.
‘I…’ said Jennifer, feeling incredibly faint, as one of her green legs reverted back to human form; causing her trousers to sag immensely, as her whole body shook.
The woman finally noticed Jennifer’s unusual behaviour, frowning in confusion.
‘Are you alright?’.
‘I… I… I can’t hold it!’.
Her large, green asshole let rip an immensely loud fart, as Jennifer turned bright red in humiliation and the woman stared at her incredulously.
‘BBBBBRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!’.
‘What the fuck?!’ said Mrs. Williams angrily. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’.
‘No, I’m so sorry, I need-’ started Jennifer but it was too late.
She took one step forward, then; her asshole opened again, spewing forth a massive amount of shit, immediately causing her pinstripe pants to fill with hot, thick, sludgy crap, as an utterly foul smell filled the air.
‘Oh my god!’ gagged the woman.
Jennifer’s whole body began to go haywire. Her arms and legs kept changing between her She-Hulk appearance and her human appearance, even splitting down the face with both, as she screamed in agony. The subsequent body changes caused her clothes to rapidly sag and then stretch, tearing holes at several places, as shit began to slide down her legs, while her asshole continued to expel more and more shit in heavy thuds, with much of it falling out through the holes in her pinstripe suit.
She didn’t wear panties as they didn’t stretch enough, so nothing was restricting her breakfast from pouring out her bum as she trembled in humiliation, the heavy loads from She-Hulk causing her pinstripe pants to fall down, exposing her naked pussy to Mrs. Williams, as she began to lose the rest of her control and pee flooded down her legs, arcing out in a spray that caused the client to recoil back in horror; pee spilling into her shoes, while Jennifer Walters stood there, aghast, with her pinstripe suit trousers around her ankles, wetting and shitting herself; half-naked, like some kind of disobedient child who hadn’t been properly potty trained.
‘Fuck you!’ screamed the woman, turning in anger and yanking open the office door. ‘I trusted you and you treat me like this! No wonder people say never meet your fucking heroes!’.
Mrs. Williams stormed out before Jennifer could stop her; though, in truth, she was too preoccupied to really try. Her accident continued unrestrained, as mounds of thick, brown shit; in log and clumpy shapes, fell over her black high-heeled shoes and the piss formed a massive puddle around her as Jennifer Walters; lawyer extraordinaire, continued to humiliatingly piss and shit herself, her clothes and her floor like a baby.
Slowly, her asshole began to stop expelling shit and Jennifer’s body reverted to its all-green, She-Hulk form, trembling; an unusual sight for her, as piss dripped down her soaked, muscular legs and she felt the last of her accident pour from her body. She stood there for a few seconds, before punching her desk in frustration; leaving a huge hole through its corner. Sighing, Jennifer swore and stepped out of the muck.
‘This is my fifth accident this year!’ thought Jennifer. ‘If I don’t get this under control, clients are going to talk and I’m going to lose my license if I do this in a courtroom’.
In truth, this was the first accident Jennifer Walters had experienced since grade school; however, the hypnotic trance had convinced her otherwise, making her believe that her She-Hulk body was suffering a multi-year long response to a viral infection, as an unfortunate form of mutated Gamma Poisoning.
Despite her messy state, Jennifer Walters was still a hero; first and foremost, her heart going out to the poor client whose body had been used and abused by the Kingpin’s men, surgically tormented by shady criminals for a drug-trafficking scheme. She knew there was zero chance that Mrs. Williams would ever trust her again, however, she wasn’t the only lawyer in the city with special skills and; as much as she hated to help the competition, this seemed as good a time as any.
Reaching out to her phone, she dialled a number she knew by heart: Nelson, Murdock & Page, where the legendary super-hero lawyer; as well as secretly the superhero Daredevil, resided.
‘Hi, this is Jennifer, can I speak to Matt? Yes, it’s urgent! Hi Matt! Yeah… I need your help. I’ve just messed things up with a client and I think you’ll be interested in what she has to say about hers’.
‘I’m sorry, we can’t afford to take on any new clients right now Mrs. Walters’ said Matt coolly but professionally, always the gentleman.
‘It’s a Fisk case’ she said bluntly.
There was silence for a moment.
‘... Alright, I’m listening’.
THE NEXT DAY
Kate Bishop almost never missed.
More specifically, she never missed her targets. Being trained by one of SHIELD’s most legendary agents; as well as being a prodigy archer in her own right, meaning that very little escaped her marksmanship. In battle, this meant that more than one supervillain; as well as countless drones, aliens, demons, vampires, warlocks, Werewolves, and living glass mannequins had met their end at her hand. During her days off, however, this was more of a fun party trick.
Right now however, she was missing one thing: A bathroom. Kate Bishop was a young SHIELD protégé and experienced fighter; she was used to going without relief for long periods but something was unusual today. Her bladder felt uncomfortably full and she hoped her friend would be here soon.
‘Woah, sick girl! How’d you get so good at that?’ said an eighteen-year-old skater punk, having seen Kate throw three empty soda cans from the wall she was sitting on over 10ft., each one spinning on the bin’s rim and sliding in with perfect precision.
‘It’s a gift!’ she said sarcastically. ‘The gift of thousands of hours of work, blood, sweat and tears, broken bones, adrenalin rushes, self-loathing; you know, the works’.
‘Damn girl, okay! You waiting for someone?’ the boy said flirtatiously, sliding his bike in front of her.
‘Yeah, now scram!’ said Kate; annoyed, not wanting to deal with some random asshole right now.
‘Come on babe, don’t be like that’ said the boy; seemingly wanting to sign his own death warrant as he came into an uncomfortable leering distance of Kate’s boobs, tucked neatly inside her purple shirt.
Moments before he would have got a broken nose, a friend grabbed Kate’s twitching arm.
‘He’s not worth it’s said Kamala, giving the boy a menacing stare, as he swore and cycled off; never knowing how close he came to a major beat-down.
‘What took you so long?’ said Kate.
‘Sorry, training these past few days has been crazy!’.
‘You take it so seriously’ said Kate flippantly, walking along the wall’s edge; as Kamala laughed.
‘Me?! You’re in the training grounds more than I am! You just want people to think you’re aloof to maintain this cool girl image!’.
‘Ooh, you’re right! … Is it working?’.
‘... Yeah, you are pretty awesome!’.
Kate laughed, giving Kamala a friendly shoulder-punch of affection, as the two young teens made their way into the city. Kate was dressed in tight black jeans, with a purple top, sunglasses, and had her hair thrown back; straight as an arrow, swaying gently in the midday sun. Kamala by contrast was wearing bright blue jeans, a red and yellow striped jumper; with a thin white vest underneath, her long brown hair in a tangled mess. Coincidentally, both were wearing thin grey cotton panties. There was no hypnosis involved in that, however, just a similar taste in clothing stores.
Unbeknownst to either of them, however, there: ‘Girl’s Afternoon Out’ had been set up through Becky; determined to humiliate Kate, who had assisted Kamala as a friend in stopping several of her prior schemes. However, she dare not try to secretly film her accident; even in plain clothes and hidden. Her hypnotic programming couldn’t undo years of SHIELD training and Kate was exceptionally observant, even by their standards.
Instead, she had Kamala wearing a hidden camera; hidden inside her scarf. She’d also had Kamala slip diuretics into the water bottles at Kate’s house earlier that morning; Kamala knowing the password to get past Kate’s home defences. Since arriving for her meetup with Kamala, Kate had slowly been feeling more and more uncomfortable, as the diuretics forced their way through her system and she’d regretted downing those sodas now.
As they walked, Kate searched the environment for toilets but was unable to find any; much to her annoyance. Kamala; under Becky’s careful guidance, had chosen the location well. There wasn’t a working toilet, bus stop, or stable phone reception for miles, and those diuretics were fast-acting. Becky laughed back at headquarters; watching the incident slowly play out through a camera feed. She knew that Kate didn’t have much time and she was right.
Kate was now occasionally holding herself; though still trying to be discrete, swaying on the pathway they were on heading towards the city. Kamala; also having drunk some of the diuretic water, Becky never missing an opportunity to humiliate her, was beginning to struggle. Her butt kept randomly expanding inside her jeans, inflating to comical levels; nearly twice her size, as small farts escaped her backside.
‘PRRFFFFF, PRRFFF, PFFFFSH!!’.
‘Damn Kamala, what you been eating lately? That being said, I can’t really talk; feel like I ate gravel for breakfast, my stomach is killing me. This is weird, I never get this kind of stuff’ said Kate, confused.
‘Really? Happens to me all the time’ said Kamala resignedly. ‘Side effect of my powers’.
Kate looked surprised.
‘You’ve never mentioned that before. Damn girl, that sucks. Guess it’s not always bad not having invincible skin or being stretchy enough to be a human trampoline’.
‘Hey!’ said Kamala, laughing in mock outrage. ‘For what it’s worth though, I don’t think you’re any less super without the powers’.
‘I wasn’t fishing for compliments Kam!’ said Kate defensively.
‘I know. Just wanted to say’.
‘Thanks Kamala’ said Kate, genuinely serious for a moment. ‘I mean it’.
‘You’re welcome’.
The two young heroes’ sweet moment was interrupted as their desperate needs for the toilet grew worse. Kate was now walking with tightly clamped legs, while Kamala was openly holding herself, both girls clearly in pain, as their bladders filled to an uncomfortable level. Though neither would admit it, both had wet spots in their grey knickers that they were well aware wasn’t sweat and knew it wouldn’t be long before small leaks became huge accidents.
‘Jesus Kamala, why did you make us meet in this isolated dump?’ asked Kate, annoyed; finally beginning to openly hold herself, as she took a break from walking along the dirty canal to the city, the sound of water rushing by not helping her condition.
‘I’m sorry, Google Maps said it was a faster route! I’m not that great with directions!’.
Kate gave Kamala an odd look; knowing that was unlike her, as Kamala normally had a good eye for where to meet up. Before she could consider it further, a massive rip of pain split through her stomach and Kate moaned in agony, squatting down and holding her stomach in frustration. Kamala gasped in shock and Kate in horror as a small stream of wee; lasting for three seconds long, burst through the crotch of Kate’s tight black jeans, pouring through her grey cotton underwear and onto the cobblestone below.
‘Right, that’s it!’ said Kate desperately. ‘I’m losing it; I’m going behind that tree!’.
If Kamala had been in her right mind, she’d have been tearing at her own jean zipper to do the same; despite the embarrassment and risk of going in public. However, Becky had accounted for this possibility in her hypnotic programming and had made sure that Kamala would do everything in her power to prevent her friends and fellow heroes escaping their accidents this way.
‘What?!’ said Kamala, outraged. ‘Kate, you can’t go there, what if there are cameras!’.
‘Oh, so you’d rather I piss myself on camera than go behind a bush?’.
‘You don’t need to do either, neither of us do!’ said Kamala; though deep down, she didn’t believe it, as she was already doing the pee-pee dance and desperately holding herself between her thighs. ‘We can find a toilet somewhere!’.
‘There’s no time, I’m about to go, hold on yourself if you want to!’.
Kate began to unzip her trousers, however, Kamala’s programming kicked in, and just as she’d slid them down to her knees; racing to pull her grey panties down, Kamala’s hands stretched over and knocked Kate’s own away, pulling up her trousers in a fast yank.
‘Fuck off Kam, what the hell?!’ said Kate angrily. ‘Why are you being such a… an… oh no!’.
Kate tried to pull her trousers down again but they weren’t even below her knees as a loud, smelly, putrid fart ripped through the air, and pee flooded through her grey knickers; before forming a waterfall of golden streams that ran straight downwards, though a few streams broke loose, spraying her jeans and Kate’s legs and shoes. Kamala wanted to look away but the hypnotic programming didn’t even let her truly consider the idea, as Kamala felt her own need to go accelerate to critical levels.
‘Fuck, fuck… fuck, I can’t hold it!’ screamed Kamala, her butt letting out an enormous fart as it expanded to obscene levels.
‘PRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSPPPPPPPPPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS’.
With every second it went on, Kamala began to wet and shit herself simultaneously. Both flooded into her panties together, filling them in a second as golden streams ran down the front of her legs, over her knees and showing up as a massive, expanding wet patch on her jeans and crotch, while thick brown streams; shit mixed in with piss, went down the back, leaving her jeans bum area with a massive brown stain on it, that was only getting bigger, stinkier and more embarrassing by the second.
Both superheroes continued to wet themselves; Kamala’s shitting accident being especially horrifying for her, not even happening during training. False memories told her this wasn’t unheard of for her but even so, it had been a while; at least three months in her head, since the last one and she thought she’d been moving past it. It was embarrassing; no, mortifying shame to have that turn out not to be the case when out with her friend Kate. She also felt awful for accidentally making her own accident worse, unsure of why she felt so honour-bound to stop her as if her role as a superhero should prioritize preventing young, eighteen year-old-girls; on the verge of an accident, from using an emergency toilet area.
‘I-I’m so sorry Kate!’ said Kamala; tears running down her face, as she ran off in shame, realizing what she had done to her friend by what she’d thought was her stubborn pride.
‘Kamala!’ screamed Kate angrily, though as she heard her friends sobs; despite everything, she felt sorry for her.
Kamala hadn’t meant for this to happen.
‘She’s such a stupid bitch!’ moaned Kate, before feeling guilty at the comment.
‘Come on, no she’s not, she just made a mistake. Sure, she chose a bad location and didn’t seem in any hurry, then stopped me… but… ah, she’s just a do-gooder. Aren’t all heroes like us though? Yeah but this isn’t like her. Not really’ thought Kate, suddenly feeling suspicious.
Kamala was definitely aspiring to be what Clint jokingly referred to as a ‘Parrot’ AKA a hero who is always prattling off speeches, inspiring quotes, and obeying the rule to the letter; never wavering on their principles, believing that would make her a better hero and would make Carol Danvers proud of her. But even so, Kate realized that something was off. Kamala may be a little tightly wound sometimes; sure, but she could be practical and she didn’t consider crime-fighting to be stopping one of her friends from avoiding a major and humiliating accident.
Something was wrong.
Trying to ignore the pee on her legs and jeans, Kate carefully slid off all the clothes on her bottom half; making sure she was hidden from any passing strangers, as well as other prying eyes she was now wary of, before attaching the sodden panties to a small arrowhead she pulled from her pocket. She always kept a mini-compact bow and a few arrowheads with her in most civilian circumstances, in case she ever needed to take down the odd mugger or; worst case scenario, a shooter when she wasn’t on active duty. Technically, using it for this purpose wasn’t the most appropriate use of her skills as a master archer but she figured that this was an unusual circumstance and could be justified if anyone ever found out about it.
Probably.
Pulling back her bow and releasing, the panties were flung on the edge of an arrowhead and the shot was perfect; sliding the arrow into a gutter, while the panties got stuck at the top of a pipe, where leaves would quickly obscure them from the very limited view anyone could already have. She’d return tonight and collect them, once she hightailed it back to her apartment and did three things.
Firstly, a shower. The pee on her jeans and legs was beginning to cool and she didn’t like the sensation when warm; let alone icy.
Secondly, she was going to do a blood test; to check if she had been poisoned with some kind of nerve agent or diuretic.
Finally; if she had been, she was going to contact one of Kamala’s friends. She had all their numbers memorized; as she did with the close friends and family of all her Avengers and superhero teammates, in case they were ever injured or killed in battle. Kate couldn’t be sure who was in on this but knew who she could safely eliminate wasn’t. Whether others had noticed yet or not, something needed to be done.
Something wasn’t right with Kamala Khan.
THE PREVIOUS WEEK
Gwen Stacy was baffled. Shocked. Terrified. All of the above.
She was having; quite possibly, the most confusing week of her life.
It had all started after a superhero training session, routine stuff. She’d done some fight training with Carol Danvers, Kamala Khan, Janet Van Dyne; a few others. Yet ever since then, things had been anything but normal. It had all started on the first day when; out of nowhere, a bright blue flash of light had engulfed her and she had gone from swinging in the city of New York she knew to a mid-2000’s version of the city that looked similar but was nothing like the world she knew. There were no Avengers, no alien invasions, no heroes… except one.
Spiderman.
She’d somehow ended up in an alternate world that only had a black-suited Spiderman, who seemed to be able to move around the city with incredible speed and skill that even she couldn’t match. To her shock, she soon realized that it was Peter Parker; learning his identity when she followed him from a distance, being careful not to trigger his Spidey-Sense as a threat. She also realized that he was really weird. For some reason, she’d seen him leave a clothing store the other day doing air thrusts and weird dance moves towards women; all while listening to ‘Funky Soul’ via his MP3 player and wireless headphones. That sight alone had made her bizarre journey almost worth it, however; she didn’t have time to question it. From there, her timeline jumping began in earnest.
Today, she was at high school with Mary Jane; heading to band practice, where she was going to test a theory, hopefully before she jumped again. Gwen figured that the world-jumping was due to unstable DNA, ever since her battle as part of what she’d nicknamed the ‘Spiderverse’ incident, where she and a group of her parallel selves had battled Wilson Fisk. She figured that if the bands played their music together, the harmonies may combine with her unstable DNA patterns to form a more stable; eventually allowing her to stabilize and perhaps travel between universes at will. Currently, she’d been forced out within a handful of days each time; before the different dimensional energies ripped her apart. If she; as well as some of her alternate selves, had worked out the same conclusion, then multiple universes worth of Gwen Stacy Spiderwoman, in the same environment, should be able to create a ‘Multiverse Synchronisation Gateway’ and that was her ticket home.
She knew she might only get one shot at this. She’d been trying it in a dozen different timelines; so far nothing, yet if she didn’t for any reason, then the others may achieve it without her, and then she’d be stuck as a permanent unstable presence between universes; forever. What she didn’t know is that her DNA had been set off by an unintended effect of Kamala’s hypnosis. The program had instructed Gwen to go far away from Kamala and begin placing herself into situations where she would be forced to suffer humiliating accidents. Her genetically altered mind; still not entirely understood by her or many Spidermen/Spiderwomen, had responded to this by manifesting a new ability from her DNA; already charged with multi-dimensional energy: She now had the ability to jump through parallel worlds at a whim.
Unfortunately, Gwen needed to use this strange, risky, unreliable, and limited opportunity method to get control of it or she would never have a semblance of a normal life again. Naturally; during a time of immense personal crisis and stress, Gwen practically wanted to scream in annoyance as her bladder had filled rapidly this morning, leaving her now desperate for the toilet as she approached her band class. She wanted to go but she couldn’t risk it, so instead, she tightly clamped her legs and moved forwards.
‘You okay Gwen?’.
It was this universe’s Mary Jane: A fiery redhead; like the vast majority, she’d seen, with huge boobs that this timeline’s version of Peter was staring at for half his time at college. Having slipped into the place of her alternate self, Gwen was dressed in a thin white skirt and dark blue cotton panties; with bare legs and white trainers, while Mary Jane wore a tight white tank-top and short red-skirt, with Gwen having glimpsed red lingerie on MJ earlier; much to her enjoyment.
‘Y-yeah, I’m fine, just tired. Still, need to focus if I’m gonna do well at band today’.
‘I know what you mean’ said MJ. ‘It gets so tiring sometimes. Come on tiger, let’s get this done, then we’ll go get Chinese food!’.
MJ kissed her girlfriend’s cheek, causing Gwen to blush. In this timeline it seemed, they were partners and boy was she an enthusiastic lover. Gwen had initially wanted to decline her advances but had discovered earlier in her dimension-hopping that acting out of character for this version of herself in the timeline caused her to rapidly jump to a new one within minutes of her altered behaviour. Thankfully, she had the memories of each new Gwen she booted into another timeline, so could use that to stay in character. Giving MJ’s bum a gentle squeeze, the redhead giggled in delight and the two entered band practice, taking their seats, as Gwen felt a slight tanginess in the air.
‘Do you feel that?’ asked Gwen excitedly.
‘Feel what?’ asked MJ.
‘N-nothing, nevermind’.
Realizing that no-one else could sense it, she realized it must be the beginning of a multiverse synchronization event and if she could just keep this going for a few minutes; she could be home! Desperately squirming in her seat, Gwen cursed her infuriatingly small bladder but fought through. This was her moment. She could not miss it for anything, least of all a bathroom break. Using her enhanced reflexes to put her hand up first when the teachers asked to play a song, she chose one that was meaningful to multiple versions of Spidermen and Spiderwomen everywhere, a song that paid tribute to a close friend and someone she wished could be her partner. Oh yes, she knew the exact song.
‘Yes, Mrs. Stacy? What shall we play?’.
‘Blackway & Black Caviar, What's Up Danger’.
‘Very well!’.
The band began to play as Gwen smiled. She knew that; in many universes, this song meant the world to Miles: Playing it through his suit during the moment he truly became Spiderman, hyping himself up with music. She sometimes listened to it so she could imagine seeing him properly again and perhaps; one day, starting the relationship they know they could. Nothing was going to stop her now. Not a billion universes, not DNA gone wild and not her desperate need to pee, which now had her wriggling on her seat to the point that MJ was looking at her with a knowing stare. She didn’t care.
This was it.
Two-thousand on thermometers
Two-thousand surroundin' us
Travel two-thousand kilometers
To hang out with us
The tanginess in the air increased and Gwen smiled, though quickly grimaced too, as her desperation began to reach critical levels, feeling a small spurt of pee leak into her panties; as she blushed bright red. Even so, she could see bolts of electricity ricocheting off the wall and knew that now was not the time to stop.
What's up, danger? (Danger)
What's up, danger? (Danger)
An intense fart escaped her that she was barely able to keep silent, as she felt reality began to fall apart around her; even as the band continued to play the music. She could feel bursts of pee soak her knickers and the putrid smell hit her nose but she could not, would not, be stopped. She kept playing as she felt herself lose control.
Ayy, gettin' old, they doubted us
Makes it that more marvelous
Sign 'em up, 'cause I'm in this vibe and I get synonymous
Pee was flooding over her skirt now, a wet patch expanding across her skirt and down her legs; as Mary Jane’s eyes widened in shock.
‘Gwen… you’re…’.
‘Out of here!’.
Gwen felt her whole body fall forwards, as she was blasted into a vortex of unimaginable energy; as she screamed in terror. Piss and shit flooded over her legs in a matter of seconds, yet within a split-second, she was wetting her white spider-suit, then a red and yellow one with wings. Jeans, skirts, mountain gear, Hand Clan uniform, a Green Goblin Suit, Thor’s Armor, Oscorp research gear, Dr. Strange’s sorcery robes: She could feel her piss flooding inside hundreds of different costumes in a single moment; infinite versions of her wetting herself inside a moment of pure chaos at the heart of the multiverse.
What's up, danger?
Ayy, don't be a stranger
'Cause I like high chances that I might lose (lose)
I like it all on the edge just like you, ayy
I like tall buildings so I can leap off of 'em
Then, she felt herself living a thousand lives and memories all at once.
She saw one universe where Mary Jane and Peter Parker had her tied to a bed, with her squirming desperately in black lingerie; utterly bursting for a piss. Mary Jane was whispering sweet nothings in her ear, while Peter used his Spider-Sense to find every weak point in her body and was edging her on orgasm like nothing she had ever felt. The pleasure and desperation were indescribable. She felt Mary Jane slide over her, as hot pee flooded from Mary Jane’s own red Victoria secret panties and a loud fart emanated from her backside; shit and piss beginning to slide into the redhead’s lingerie and over Gwen’s stomach.
‘Let go Gwen’ whispered Mary Jane and Gwen’s own release, her own accident, her own orgasm, shook the whole multiverse with pleasure.
I go hard wit' it no matter how dark it is
I'm insane but on my toes
I could keep the world balanced on my nose
I had a slumber party wit' all my foes
Now I wear 'em like a badge of honour all my clothes
If I'm crazy, I'm on my own
If I'm waitin', it's on my throne
If I sound lazy, just ignore my tone
'Cause I'm always gonna answer when you call my phone
Gwen felt her whole body vibrate with ecstasy, yet she kept falling through infinity and saw and felt a thousand more universes. Worlds where the Avengers fell and she; the last hero, turned back invasions at the survivors’ colonies from plague mutant zombies, the last Supervillains, and even Thanos, battling the Mad-Titan equipped with Spider sorcery that she could barely comprehend.
Like, what's up, danger? (Danger)
Like, what's up, danger? (Danger)
D-don't be a stranger
What's up, danger?
Two-hundred miles-per-hour wit' a blindfold on (on)
Mama always askin', "Where did I go wrong?" (wrong)
What's up, danger?
Ah, what's up, danger?
She saw universes where Miles Morales, Peter Parker, and Mary Jane were holding her as a wife, then fighting her to the death as a brutal; ruthless, enemy. She watched beautiful displays of love and horrifying displays of hate and screamed in terror at all of those, yet still, she kept falling, every inch of her soaked in fear, piss, grief and pleasure.
Traveled two-hundred miles, I'm knockin' at your door
And I don't really care if you ain't done wrong, come on
What's up, danger? (Danger)
D-don't be a stranger (stranger)
Gwen was horrified that she was going to be stuck in this chaos forever but she forced herself to concentrate. She could still hear the band’s music: ‘What’s Up Danger’, echoing across the entire spectrum of creation and she used it as her anchor. She envisioned her universe in her mind and suddenly, the vortex of creation began to take shape, feeling less chaotic and forming into pictures she could see in front of her: There it was! Her New York! Her home! But her heart was divided and the picture began to split into two, terrifying Gwen that she was about to lose it.
‘No!’, she screamed in absolute horror.
I like it when trouble brews, I won't dare change
I like it when there's turbulence on my airplanes
I like it when I sense things I can't see yet
Fortunately, the image wasn’t collapsing but showing possibilities: Two. She saw two universes ahead of her in the vortex and ahead, she saw the heroes and friends she knew, the world she’d grown up in, the people she’d fought for all her life. Then, she saw Miles; the Miles she’d fallen in love with, in his world, and knew that if she willed herself to, that she would end up in his universe and could stay there forever, free of the cursed divide between dimensions. She could be with the man she loved, as she felt his heartbeat with the music.
Swimmin' with sharks when they ain't feed yet
'Cause I like high chances that I might lose
I like it all on the edge just like you, ayy
I like tall buildings so I can leap off of 'em
I go hard wit' it no matter how dark it is
For a brief moment, Gwen wanted to. She wanted to more than anything. But her world still needed her. Gwen knew that. One day, she would find Miles again. But this was not their moment. She aimed her heart and mind towards her universe; tears rolling down her eyes, as the image of a smiling Miles looking right at her, as he began to fade. He nodded at her in approval; tears in his eyes. She cried aloud with emotion and fell through the divide between universes, as she appeared; like a ball of white and blue fire, in the New York skyline.
If I'm crazy, I'm on my own
If I'm waitin', it's on my throne
If I sound lazy, just ignore my tone
'Cause I'm always gonna answer when you call my phone
Like, what's up, danger? (Danger)
Like, what's up, danger?
Can't stop me now
I said, "I got you now"
I'm right here at your door
I won't leave, I want more
What's up, danger?
The people of the city stared up at her, afraid for a moment that she was a hostile attack but soon, they saw one of their heroes; Spiderwoman, through the fire and cheered. She had been missing for almost a week and her return brought a wave of cheers and applause ripping through the city, as Gwen cried with relief and happiness; before laughing, as she realized that pee and shit had still filled up her white Spider-Suit.
Yeah, what's up, danger? Can't stop me now, yeah
I said, "I got you now"
Come on, what's up, danger?
Come on, I said, "What's up, danger?"
Gwen Stacy had returned.
Spider-Woman was back.
THAT SAME DAY
Janet Van Dyne had been having… problems.
She didn’t want to admit it; certainly not to her judgmental husband, yet age was starting to get to her. Up until last year, she’d handled everything that the inevitable passage of time had thrown at her. She’d worn glasses willingly, moved slower but with grace, accepted that certain muscles were just going to be permanently aching now; not helped by her superhero lifestyle, which she had maintained long past the point where many other heroines might have retired. Janet loved hero work. She had gotten her husband Hank into it, not the other way around; despite what he may sometimes claim. Age and a few pains were not going to stop her.
But this latest problem had left her wondering whether she really had gotten too old to carry things on.
Last year; a false memory implanted by mind-controlled Kamala, Janet had been running a search and rescue operation inside a housing district that had been devastated by fighting with the Kree Empire. She’d been in her Antwoman Suit, crawling through the wreckage of a destroyed home, when she’d felt an unbearably bad need to piss.
Trying her hardest to push it off, she’d made it through the rest of the operation, only to get changed into her civilian clothes and completely soak herself in her car on the way home. Janet could still remember; to her shame, how it felt to soak her beige cream trousers, feel a thick, wet log of her own shit squirm its way from her desperately clenched asshole and smear all over her bum and driver’s car seat.
The worst part had been Hank’s scornful remarks when she got home and cold treatment of her for days after, her husband despised weak women. It was part of the reason he’d been attracted to her in the first place, a confident, bold young woman, in a science division, giving ideas and lectures to pig-headed men; way above her station. While others would have fired her, Hank made her his personal research assistant and; as times got gradually fairer for women, promoted her to co-head of his division. She’d fallen in love with him for believing in her and Hank had reciprocated due to her strength and conviction.
The moment Hank saw her in piss-stained and shit-smelling clothes, she’d lost a huge portion of that respect and had been working for months to regain it. Even now, she still got the odd, disgusted look from her husband if she needed the bathroom too often and she couldn’t stand it. She wanted him to see her as the strong woman she knew she was once more. Of course; in reality, no such thing had ever happened. Hank; still immensely guilty over his wife being trapped for decades in the Quantum realm, wouldn’t have criticized her for bringing home anything less than a severed head; let alone a messy pair of trousers. Of course; thanks to the hypnotic programming, that knowledge had been lost and Janet had spent the last few weeks immensely stressed, hiding her accidents; that were now happening more and more frequently, multiple times a day.
Janet’s first one that day began before she was even awake. Squirming and wriggling around in bed, her legs clenched tightly together in a dark red nightgown, Janet’s mature legs were wrapped around each in a vice-like grip, her whole body struggling to restrain the accident that the hypnotic programming was trying to force on her. In her dream, Janet was back at high school; sixteen years old, taking her exams again. She’d drank far, far too much water and was now squirming in her seat, in her tight white school blouse, her red lace bra feeling constricting to her sweaty boobs, and her white cotton panties dripping with what she hoped was sweat.
‘Mrs. Dyne!’ said her teacher; Hank Pym, in a thunderous voice.
Her husband and teacher was dressed in a sharp, black suit and holding a long measuring ruler that sent a huge chill of fear racing down Janet’s spine and made her start to lose control at her seat in the class, pee flooding through her white panties in fear, as all her classmates turned to watch Janet wet herself, who was sobbing in terror. Laughter and insults filled the room, as back in the real world, Janet’s nightgown was wet at its bottom, the smallest of puddles forming under her bum, as her body shook with desperation; trying in vain to wake her up.
‘Janet… come to the front of the class. Now!’.
Somehow, hearing her first name was far scarier and she stood up, trembling and soaking, her black schoolgirl shoes walking through her puddle, as she stood before Mr. Pym.
‘You’ve had an accident, didn’t you?’.
‘Y-yes s-sir!’ sobbed Janet. ‘P-please l-l-let me c-clean up!’.
‘Not before your punishment Janet. Bend over the desk’.
She hesitated.
‘Now Janet!’ his scream terrified her and in the real world, another burst of pee leaked from her pussy, spraying through her fingers, where she was desperately holding herself; clenching her pussy with both hands, as she whimpered like a little girl, in both worlds, her deep, hypnotic sleep unable to be breached, her smooth, mature legs, glistening with wetness, as a loud fart filled the air:
‘BRRRRRAAAAAFHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRTRRRRRRRRRTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSS’.
‘Janet has been a disgusting, dirty, weak little girl class and she must be punished’.
‘No sir, please, don’t!’.
But it was too late. Janet; trembling over the teacher’s desk, sobbed in horror as her skirt was flipped up, exposing her shitty, wet panties to the whole class, as she farted putrid stink towards them, making everyone laugh and gag in horror. Then, the blows landed; the ruler smacking against her ass, as she cried on the table. The blows landed again and again and Janet cried out, as piss and shit anew flooded from her white wet knickers and down the back of her legs, as her teacher stared at her with utter contempt, and the sound of people laughing filled her ears.
‘No!!!’ she screamed, the sound of her voice being replaced with an alarm; as she jolted awake.
For a moment, Janet was relieved but then, she felt around her crotch and a chill ran down her spine.
‘Oh no! No, no, no!’
Throwing back her duvet, she nearly gagged at the smell, finding her long legs covered in piss, her nightgown smeared in shit and stained yellow; with wet patches everywhere, while the sheets were utterly foul. It was not helped by the fact that; despite everything; Janet found herself repeatedly farting, the putrid, horrific, tangy, yet bitter odor only adding to the room’s foul concoction:
‘PRRRRRRF!’, ‘PRRRRRFFFFFFSSSSSS’, ‘SRRRRRPHHHHHMMMMM!’ FLRRRRRRRRRRPRRRRRFFFFFHHH!’.
‘Oh god’ said Janet, as the last wave of shit and pee flooded from her exhausted asshole, as she trembled in her blankets; still continuing to have an accident and wet & shit the bed.
Suddenly, a voice called out and Janet’s blood ran cold.
‘Everything alright up there?’ called Hank Pym, having barely head his wife’s upset moans.
‘I-I’m fine!’ she said unconvincingly.
‘Well, I’m just bringing you some breakfast!’.
Janet’s mind worked at a million miles per hour. Frantically jumping from her bed, Janet quickly grab an experimental piece of shrink tech and threw it towards her bed, shrinking the entire structure down to the size of a pin. She then jumped into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door just in time to avoid her husband seeing her in her foul nightclothes, covered in piss.
‘Good morning, I brought you some breakfast…Where is the bed?’ asked Hank Pym.
‘Oh, I’m using it for an experiment!’ she said hurriedly, turning on the shower and jumping side.
‘An experiment?’ asked Hank, confused.
‘Y-yes, to test the dexterity of cotton and foam surfaces when exposed to a heating agent combined with Pym Particles.
Pym nodded approvingly, impressed by his wife’s work ethic.
‘Well, just make sure you get our bed back by tonight’ he warned. ‘I want to be able to sleep’.
‘Yes dear!’ she said, hurriedly scrubbing herself clean and throwing the wet, dirty lingerie behind the toilet.
Hank Pym gave a devilish smile, slowly unlocking the bathroom door before he stepped inside and pulled off his early morning clothes: A suit, tie; white socks, and black shoes. He then pulled back the curtain, Janet having just narrowly cleaned herself in time, as she jumped in shock.
‘Hank, don’t scare me like that!’ she lectured, as her husband stepped into the bathtub with her; not noticing the last of Grace’s piss and shit wash away, much to her relief.
‘You are looking delightful today my darling’ said Hank Pym, a lustful edge to his voice.
Right now, Janet felt anything but sexy and didn’t want her husband touching her; in case he found a part of her body she hadn’t cleaned. However, seeing how throbbing hard his cock was, standing up thick and straight, as well as the fact he knew she wasn’t on her period, Janet decided to get creative. Pulling him into a passionate kiss, she then pushed him against the wall, as hot water ran over both their bodies and she fell to her knees; slowly kissing down his body.
‘You haven’t done this in… a while!’ moaned Hank Pym.
‘I’ve just been thinking about how you rescued me’ said Janet seductively, as she began kissing her husband’s balls.
‘I was the one who caused you to get trapped there in the first place’ he said glumly.
‘That’s not true and you know it. You came back for me. Now, let me show you how grateful I can be’.
Hank Pym’s eyes rolled back in his head as Janet Van Dyne slid his thick cock deep into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat; yet she did not gag. Starting to enjoy herself and feeling more powerful and in control than just a few minutes ago; sat wet and ashamed on her bed like a soiled toddler, she pleasured her husband thoroughly, extracting sweet and rough moans from him as his seed leaked from his mouth and dripped down her throat and out her lips in hot, white bursts. Eventually, he lost complete control and Janet swallowed as much as she could manage, before letting her husband release the rest over her face and mature, faded pink but still large breasts.
Janet smiled. It felt good to be in control.
That feeling lasted roughly three-and-a-half hours.
As Janet headed into town, she was sitting in the driver’s seat of their car, preparing to get some supplies in for dinner. Heading to the local grocer’s, she found a growing feeling of discomfort in her bladder and realized; to her horror, that she already badly needed to use the toilet again.
‘Not again!’ she moaned. ‘This is ridiculous. What is wrong with me?’.
Tears came to Janet’s eyes but she wiped them away quickly. She was not weak. She would not be weak. She would hold it, buy groceries and then make her way home. She was a mature woman, not a weak, elderly, doddery old fool. She would hold it. She could hold it.
‘I can hold it’ she said to herself.
So, Janet Van Dyne sat in her car; driving to the store, in beige cream trousers and a white blouse, fidgeting and squirming, occasionally holding herself, yet refusing to allow herself to think properly about how much pain she was in from holding her bladder. Even as the pain made her shoulders tremble with exhaustion and Janet felt sweat pouring down the back of her neck, she refused.
‘It’s all in your head. You control your own body’.
She had no idea how wrong she was at this moment; thanks to Becky’s programming, however, Janet refused to see it. So, the drive continued, with the mature superheroine slowly growing more desperate, small, smelly farts with high-pitched whines, escaping her bum; stinking the car. Lowering the window, she could hear the sound of rain pouring down loudly onto the car but blocked it out. She wouldn’t think of rain, water, toilets, how badly she wanted one, how much she was containing inside her…
‘Ah, here we are!’ said Janet with false happiness, trying to deny her own thought processes by heading into the store. Walking with her pants tightly buckled and her legs clamped together, Janet felt incredibly uncomfortable, the metal of her belt digging painfully into her overworked tummy, as her body desperately fought to let out another fart… or worse. Janet refused to indulge it, however, grabbing a shopping trolley as she walked around the store; slowly, as the pressure in her bladder got worse and worse.
‘I don’t need the toilet, I can hold it, I don’t need the toilet, I can hold it, I don’t need the toilet, I can… I can… I… oh fuck!’.
Janet’s thoughts turned panicked in a second, as her knees nearly gave way and Janet felt an incredible pain tear through her stomach. Her legs shook so violently for several seconds, she was almost worried she was having a stroke but the pain was nowhere near her heart, it was from her bladder to her asshole and she could feel it slowly opening, a long, slow, horrifically smelling fart slowly pouring out of her; accompanied by a high-pitched whine, despite her embarrassment.
‘PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGHHHHHHH!’.
Janet’s face blushed bright red and she speed-walked to the next aisle as several customers gave her dirty looks of disapproval. Janet shook heavily as she picked up the last of her items, taking them to a self-scan checkout, as she began freaking out.
‘Oh god, I’m shitting my pants! I’m shitting my pants’.
It was true. Janet could feel a thick but mushy load of poo slowly slide out of her clenched bum, forced into a thick, thin stream and already, beginning to strain against her knickers. She had no idea how long it would be until the smell was noticeable to others or how long it would take to show against her trousers but she didn’t want to stay in the store long enough to find out. Janet hurriedly tried to get the last of her items through before she lost any more of her control, her body shaking, as a cashier; noticing her tense state, approached.
‘Are you okay m’am?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine, thank you’.
‘Are you sure? You look-’ he began but Janet cut him off.
‘I said I’m fine young man! Now, why don’t you get out of my way, before I have to call your manager over!’.
The young man backed off apologetically, as Janet grabbed her items and slowly, began to walk out. She felt guilty for biting the man’s head off but she had no choice. Already; looking around, she could see people noticing it.
‘Oh my god!’.
‘Ugh, it stinks in here!’.
‘What the hell is that smell?’.
‘Do they ever clean these stores?’.
‘Smells like a toddler shit themselves’.
Janet nearly wanted to cry at that last comment. That’s how she felt at the moment. A toddler. She hadn’t even managed to go to the store successfully without starting a major accident. God, she hadn’t felt this humiliated in a long time and, as she walked towards the store exit, she could feel her poo start to mush thickly against her trousers.
Janet moaned and whimpered in horror as she stumbled back to her car, farts emanating from her backside repeatedly, as several dozen people begin to gag from the smell and watch her in disgust, seeing a growing brown stain on the back of her beige trousers.
‘That’s utterly foul!’.
‘What a pathetic old tart!’.
‘Truly vile!’.
‘What kind of disgusting old bitch shits herself in public!’.
‘Wear a diaper love!’.
The last comment; shouted directly at her, made Janet began to sob with tears, as she threw herself and her shopping into the car, sat into her seat; squashing shit all over her bum and onto her car seat before she sped out of the car park, wailing in pain and humiliation, as Janet Van Dyne began to completely shit her pants.
It poured out of her in huge thick strands, not stopping for a second, her asshole throbbing and beating like her racing heartbeat, as the woman cried in dismay at her ongoing accident. Piss began to flood out as well, soaking through the front of her trousers and forming a wet, sludgy puddle in her car seat; as it began to mix with the shit, before pouring over the front. Hundreds of miles away, Becky watched in fits of laughter, as the hidden cameras she’d had Kamala place in the woman’s car showed the original Wasp’s accident in HD quality.
By now, a brown puddle was flowing over the car seat infrequent, messy streams, pouring down the back of Janet’s legs and into her shoes, while a series of loud farts could still be heard:
‘PFFFRRRRRRRRRRSSSHYYY’, ‘PFFFFFFFFF’, ‘PGGGHRRRRSSSSSSSS’, GRRRRFFFFFFPPPPPPHHHPPPP’.
‘Oh god please no!’ screamed Janet hysterically, speeding past several cars, sobbing in a mad fury, trying to deny the reality of her situation.
Unfortunately, there was no escaping this. Janet had completely shit herself; with dozens in public seeing her, as well as wetting herself to boot, as if it hadn’t already been embarrassing enough. It was utterly humiliating and worse, Janet had no idea how she could even begin to hide this mess from her husband. Beginning to hyperventilate, Janet pulled over and parked the car in a relatively secluded spot, then tried to calm herself down from a full-blown panic attack.
‘Hank can’t see this!’ she said aloud, crying with every word. ‘He can’t’.
Janet thought desperately for a solution but nothing was coming to mind. Even if she could clean the car in time before heading home, there was no getting around her clothes; half stained brown, with massive wet patches on every part, as her exhausted asshole finally stopped expelling shit, her streams of piss slowing to a few drops, before petering out. She had no change of clothes to hide her accident behind… except…
‘That’s it!’ said Janet triumphantly.
Janet and Hank; ever the prepared couple, kept multiple variants of their suits in different places. They had two in different parts of their homes and; as she now remembered, one each in their car, shrunk down to the size of a cocktail sausage, hidden inside a secret compartment within the door. Grimacing as Janet moved to grab it, feeling the shit that was sludging horribly inside her panties, Janet unlocked a vial of Pym Particles, hidden inside her handbag, and used it to enlargen the Wasp suit; which formed around her body and ejected her ruined clothes in a nano-second.
‘Warning, foreign contaminants found in suit’ said a dull, robotic voice. ‘Recommendation: Purge materials from suit’.
‘Do it!’ said Janet.
Her suit’s robotics then ran a gas cloud through her shit; blinding her temporarily, as she felt piss and shit go from liquid and solid into gas form, before being released from her suit in a concentrated burst of air. Janet stood in her puddle; now a huge lake from her perspective in the Wasp suit, as she looked towards it with disdain.
‘I need to get home and chance, then I’ll sort out this mess’.
Shrinking the car down, Janet held it like a tiny briefcase and flew through the air, racing for home; as Becky’s video feed cut out, the signal interfered with too much by the shrinkage.
‘Clever old minx’ admitted Becky. ‘Well, these have been fun. I’ll have to get Kamala to gather more. Soon, I think it will be time for her next accident, and this time, the whole world will see what a baby she really is’.
Becky began to laugh and then continued, laughing maniacally for several seconds. After a while, however, Becky stopped and felt awkward.
‘Wow, that whole evil laugh thing is overrated when you’re alone!’.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Michaela was getting seriously worried. The gossip had been all over twitter: Across the world, some of the world’s most famous superheroes; all female, had been suffering embarrassing accidents. A few had been leaked to TMZ of training videos, where heroes like Captain Marvel had suffered embarrassing losses of control. Some had been more public, like the famed scientist, Janet Van Dyne, caught on camera losing control in her car and at a grocery store. Yet perhaps most personally and worryingly to her, was that of Ms. Marvel’s. The young hero had been rescuing people from a bridge-fire, when she had suddenly become incredibly desperate for the toilet, piss rolling down her red and blue tights on Live TV, for all the world’s news networks to see.
That; while gross, was not the truly shocking thing to Michaela. She figured that Kamala; in her eagerness not to let anyone get hurt, could have neglected going to the bathroom for a few hours. No, what alarmed her was how Kamala had then abandoned the people on the bridge; trying to find a bathroom, only to suffer a humiliating accident as half-a-dozen news choppers followed her and watched the young hero shit her pants through her enlarged butt for over four minutes straight.
It was a front-page story in most countries and the ramifications had been huge. People were talking about: ‘The Great Superhero Scandal’, female heroes around the world were being grilled about nothing else but their bathroom habits in interviews and a few national governments were even talking about sanctions against female superheroes, if their powers and bodies were so volatile that they suffered accidents like this on a regular basis.
Michaela didn’t believe it. None of their behaviours made sense and her suspicions had been confirmed when she received a text-message from an unknown number:
‘DIURETICS. HEROES POISONED. KAMALA KHAN. INSTIGATOR OR CATSPAW? INVESTIGATE. I AM TARGET. GOING UNDERGROUND. CALL WHEN YOU HAVE ANSWERS’.
‘What the hell did the message mean?’ thought Michaela, as she walked onto the college campus. ‘Kamala, an instigator… for what? Poisoning?! No way!’.
She was certain of that last part. Kamala hadn’t left her college room for three days, after Carol Danvers stripped her of their shared mantle and told Kamala that if she ever saw her using it again, Carol would treat her no differently to any other villain. She’d been despondent since, swinging between sobs, self-hatred and general isolation, with nothing able to pull her out of it. Michaela knew there had to be more to this than Kamala being a coward and having a weak bladder at the worst possible moment.
Nakia and Zoe had been acting strange too. She’d seen footage of their own accidents shared in a bunch of local Whatsapp groups, from college chats to ‘EmbarassingPublicDisplays’, a group she’d uncovered while looking into everything. Nakia losing control at protests? Zoe at shopping centres?
Michaela wasn’t going to tolerate this any longer.
TEN MINUTES LATER
‘What the hell is up with you three?!’ asked Michaela bluntly.
Nakia and Zoe shifted awkwardly in their seats on the carpet, while Kamala; puffy-eyed from crying, just looked exhausted and resigned to everything, laying on her bed in pyjamas, clearly worn out from sleep deprivation.
‘I lost control!’ said Kamala quietly. ‘I abandoned the people because I was trying to avoid humiliating myself and instead, I just let everyone down more. I’m a failure’.
‘That wasn’t like you! Zoe, you’re normally so controlled and strong; you cringe when people do anything remotely awkward in public, yet you’re having accidents now?’.
Zoe blushed, frustrated to be talking about this in front of Nakia.
‘Guess I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I hate that it’s happening but what can I do to stop it? It’s like my body’s regressed lately, okay? I don’t know what the hell is happening!’.
‘Me neither’ admitted Nakia, staring at the carpet in embarrassment. ‘I thought at first I’d been eating badly or that it was some chemicals but now… I feel like my friend’s sisters have better bladder control than me and they’re eight!’.
‘Look, can we not talk about this!’ said Kamala, exaggerated. ‘You guys know this has been happening to me for years. I just messed up too badly on the bridge. I’ve had so long to control this, you’ve been trying to help with it for ages and nothing’s worked. What’s the point of even trying?’.
Michaela, Nakia and Zoe all slowly turned to stare at Kamala, giving her concerned, scared looks. Kamala felt uneasy.
‘Why are you staring?’ asked Kamala, confused.
There was silence for a moment.
‘Kamala, you haven’t been having accidents for years. This all started only a few weeks ago’ said Nakia, her eyes widening in growing horror.
‘What are you on about? I’ve had this stuff since I got my powers’.
‘You’ve never mentioned that’.
‘You’ve all seen it!’.
‘No Kam, we haven’t’.
A tense silence fell in the room, as Kamala looked frightened and the others looked seriously concerned. Suddenly, Zoe glanced towards something on Kamala’s desk.
‘You said you’ve been too busy with superhero stuff to go out much recently, right?’ asked Zoe, standing up.
‘Yeah, why?’.
‘What’s that?’.
Kamala, Zoe, Nakia and Michaela looked towards Kamala’s desk, staring at a new laptop on her desk; the front pushed half-down, obscuring what was on the screen.
‘Oh… that… I got that ages ago’ said Kamala, though in truth, she felt uncertain of the words she was saying.
The rest of her friends stood up.
‘Can we see it?’ asked Michaela, slowly approaching it regardless.
‘I’d rather you didn’t’ answered Kamala.
‘Why?’.
‘I-I’m not meant to touch it’.
‘You said it’s yours’.
‘Y-yeah, it is but… I mean… I… I… I just feel like I shouldn’t…’.
‘Kamala… what’s on that computer’ asked Nakia, now seriously scared, as all three gathered around the desk.
‘I… I…’.
Tears ran down Kamala’s face, as her eyes widened in shock and she began to shake violently.
‘I don’t know’ she whispered, horrified.
Michaela opened the lid of the laptop and gasped at what she saw. The others did the same, with Kamala breaking into full on sobs; recoiling in horror, while Nakia and Zoe’s expressions turned to rage. The screen was full of two dozen different live camera feeds, replaying accidents from various superheroines all over the world. Looking from video-to-video, they could see recordings of Spiderwoman wetting herself at band-practice, Janet Van Dyne losing control in her car, Jennifer Walters shitting her pinstripe suit in front of a client and dozens of other heroines; suffering a variety of accidents.
‘What the fuck, that’s us!’ screamed Zoe, as she saw the video feeds containing Nakia and Zoe’s accidents.
Both blushed bright red at seeing the other’s humiliation. The two girls turned towards Kamala, grabbing and shoving her against the wall.
‘Why the fuck do you have these?! What kind of sick fuck are you?!’ screamed Zoe.
‘I thought we were your friends!’ shouted Nakia, tears streaming down her face.
‘Hey!’ shouted Michaela, getting all of their attention.
‘It’s not Kamala’s fault! Look!’.
The three girls approached the laptop and gasped; Kamala being the most horrified of all. There, a video had been started by Michaela, showing Becky; her sworn nemesis, subjecting Kamala to a series of hypnotic controls. Other video feeds then showed Kamala with Nakia and Zoe, all of which demonstrated one undeniable truth to them:
Lockdown had control of their minds.
‘How… how the fuck is this possible?!’ said Kamala, recoiling in horror.
‘… That night… the night we went drinking… Becky robbed a bank that night…’.
‘There’s no way we wouldn’t have tried to stop her!’.
‘Obviously, we did!’.
Nakia sat down next to Kamala, tears in her eyes, while Zoe stood in front of her; looking guilty.
‘I’m sorry Kamala’ said Zoe apologetically. ‘I didn’t know she’d done this to you’.
‘I’m not angry at you’ said Kamala, dangerously quiet. ‘I’m angry at her. I’m going to kill her! I’m going to kill that bitch!’ screamed Kamala.
Both Nakia and Zoe leapt back, scared at their usually calm friend’s rage, however as Kamala stood out, Michaela blocked her path to the door.
‘You can’t confront her!’ she said hurriedly.
‘I can and I will!’.
‘No, you won’t! The fact she’s able to control you means that she must have a trigger phase to do it. If you go and march to where she is; even if you find her first, all she needs to do is say the phrase and you’re her slave again!’.
‘Not if I rip her head off first’ snarled Kamala viciously.
Her friends looked at one another; frightened, yet Michaela stood her ground.
‘Kamala, I know what she’s done to you is horrible-’ began Michaela.
‘-No you don’t! She made me hurt innocent people, fellow heroes, my idol!’ screamed Kamala, her whole body shaking with pain. ‘She made me turn on Captain Marvel and humiliate her! She has to pay! She has to!’.
Michaela threw herself around Kamala, wrapping her into a tight hug as the young heroine collapsed; wracked by sobs, while her three friends held her tightly. After several minutes, Kamala slowly began to calm down, her crying slowly calming, until finally, Kamala sat up, looking at everyone with a tired expression.
‘What do we do then?’ asked Kamala desperately.
‘We could go to the other heroes?’ suggested Michaela.
‘That won’t work. Captain Marvel’s blacklisted me with every team and if I tell them about some hypnosis scheme, they’ll think I’m making excuses to be let back in’.
‘We could show them the laptop’ offered Nakia.
‘I doubt it’ said Michaela frustratedly. ‘Kamala’s probably got a hypnotic trigger in her if this thing even leaves the room, she’d smash it before we even got down the hall!’.
‘Hey!’ said Kamala.
‘Sorry, I mean, Becky would make you smash it’.
‘Well then what do we do?!’ asked Kamala desperately.
There was silence for several moments.
‘We deprogram you’ said Michaela simply.
‘How?’ asked Nakia. ‘Without the code words, it’s going to be near-impossible’.
‘Does anyone have a better idea?’.
Nobody did so the girls got to work. Sitting Kamala down, Michaela found an old pocket watch in Kamala’s draws and decided it would make a useful focal point for their commands. She then got Nakia to give Kamala a back-rub; trying to relax her, while Zoe made some hot chocolate. After a while, the tension in Kamala’s body was a little eased; though her face was still full of concern.
‘Michaela… if Becky can take control of me at any time…’.
‘Then the moment she calls, you could be under her control. Reveal what’s happening, then everything’s screwed’.
‘Then we don’t answer the call’ said Zoe.
‘We can’t afford to ignore it’ explained Michaela. ‘Lockdown would have definitely programmed Kamala to answer her calls as a priority, no matter the time. Not answering would be the same as telling her, then we’re back to square one’.
‘But she didn’t account for everything’ said Nakia. ‘We knew our behaviour wasn’t normal. Kamala thought this had been happening for years. Fake memories and experiences, right?’.
Kamala nodded; disgusted.
‘Then, why weren’t we programmed like that?’.
Michaela thought about it for several moments, then laughed bitterly.
‘She’s lazy’ said Michaela. ‘You two don’t always fight with Kamala do you, you were just helping her take down Becky, right?’.
Nakia and Zoe nodded uncertainly.
‘I guess so’ said Zoe. ‘I still can’t remember it but I know that before, we haven’t been with Kamala regularly in fights’.
‘Exactly!’ said Michaela. ‘She wasn’t expecting you. She’s a petty asshole and a bitch, so when you were there, she put in the programming so she could humiliate you but she was careless. Lazy. She didn’t even bother to make it seem normal to you both, just figured you wouldn’t tell the difference’.
‘Oh that bitch!’ said Nakia, insulted despite everything.
‘We need to get started’ said Michaela hurriedly. ‘Becky might call in five hours or five minutes. We have to start now’.
So, Michaela got to work, sliding the watch in front of Kamala’s face multiple times, as she began a countdown.
‘Follow the watch Kamala. Let it relax you. You can feel yourself getting sleepier and sleepier. Now, as I count down from 5, you’re going to slip deeper and deeper into a rest, that will turn into a sleep, where you will hear only what I say’.
Kamala felt her eyes drifting, the watch going in and out of focus, as the hypnotic trance began to take over.
‘Feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep, as you feel the relaxation increase with each number… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… you are now in a deep, relaxed sleep, totally asleep, only aware of my voice’.
Kamala was snoring heavily; sitting in her chair, her shoulders and head slumped, awaiting commands from Michaela.
‘Now then Kamala… I want you to picture the words and controls, buried deep in your mind, that Lockdown put there. I want you to feel those words slowly ease out of your subconscious as I count down from 5-1’.
‘5… 4…. 3… 2… 1… let the words disappear from your mind!’.
‘PRFFFFFFFFFFFFFPHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSS’.
Kamala let rip an enormous, putrid fart, enlarging her ass to the size of a sofa cushion on each side, as her dark blue pyjama bottoms ripped open, exposing her ass to Nakia and Zoe. Both couldn’t help but laugh in shock, while Michaela stared; frustrated.
‘Shut up, both of you!’.
Michaela took a deep breath and focussed. She had to figure out how to do this, for her friends; as well as the countless others who could be hurt by Becky’s schemes if she wasn’t stopped. The damage already done had been serious. There were more supervillain attacks than ever and less people trusted their heroes to protect them, when female heroines; once considered pillars of strength, were pissing and shitting themselves like little girls half-way through fights. She had to find a way to stop this and she would not give up.
‘Kamala, as I count down from five, you will feel your mind reject any previous commands it has been given. You will feel them slip from your subconscious, rise through your brain and vanish, easing out of your body, like tension in a muscle’.
Kamala remained still, as Zoe and Nakia watched silently.
‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Release!’.
Kamala Khan did release… another enormous and loud fart, enlarging her butt so much that she became unstable in the chair and tipped over, the sudden shock waking her up in a panic, as Zoe and Nakia moved to help her up.
‘Ugh… what happened?’.
Michaela slapped her head to her forehead.
‘I can’t get the hypnotic triggers out!’ she said frustratedly. ‘Becky’s are too deep. We need more time to figure out an answer’.
‘But we don’t have more time!’ said Kamala desperately. ‘She could call at any moment!’.
‘I know!’.
Michaela thought hard about what to do. They needed time but the moment Becky called, Kamala would end up back in a trance. She would give them away… unless…
‘Kamala, get back in that chair, quickly! I have an idea that will buy us more time!’.
‘What do you mean?’.
‘We need to figure out how to undo the hypnotic programming. I can’t do that without testing it on others first and to do that, you can’t tell Becky what we’ve learned’.
‘Well, how are you going to stop me?’ asked Kamala impatiently, scared Becky might call at any moment.
‘We need to hide your memories’.
Zoe and Nakia looked at each other, confused. Kamala was for a moment but then she realised.
‘You want to…’.
‘Put you back in a trance and hide away your memories of learning this, yeah. If you can’t remember it, you can’t tell Becky’ explained Michaela.
Kamala sat silent for a few seconds.
‘Mike’ she whispered, sounding afraid. ‘I don’t want to do this. I don’t want her to control me’.
Michaela walked over and hugged Kamala, holding the trembling hero.
‘I know… but if you don’t, I can’t see another way to stop her. Can you?’ asked Michaela.
Kamala thought about it for a few moments, then shook her head.
‘Alright. Let’s do it’.
THE NEXT DAY
‘Alright, we only have a few hours until we re-awaken Kamala and we need to practice with this guys, come on!’ said Michaela firmly, as Nakia and Zoe prepared for another practice run.
Michaela’s plan for Kamala had worked. She had successfully programmed Kamala to hide away the memories of the past several hours, replacing them with false-memories of reviewing the video-feeds for Becky, while implanting a trigger word: ‘Bravery’, that would restore her memories; though only when spoken by Michaela, or Zoe and Nakia as a backup in case an emergency happened. Now, they were practicing to see what they could understand of the hypnosis on their own.
The results so far had not been promising.
Since they knew that Becky had been sloppy with Zoe and Nakia, they decided that trying to deprogram one of them as practice for Kamala would be a good first step. Unfortunately, while Michaela had made them obey some basic commands, she needed to get them into a deep trance if she was going to have any hope of achieving the same thing with Kamala.
Since it was a hot day, Michaela had stripped down to a dark red vest top and thin blue jeans, while Nakia wore a green sleeveless shirt and dark red jeans, with Zoe wearing a white crop top and black jeans. All three were sweating from the heat and nerves as they prepared for things to get serious.
‘Okay… who wants to go first?’.
Zoe looked towards Nakia and saw that her friend looked uncomfortable. Though she would never admit it, Zoe had a major crush on Nakia and ironically, Nakia felt exactly the same way towards Zoe. Wanting to put her more at ease; as well as wanting to impress her, Zoe stepped forwards.
‘I’ll do it’.
‘Okay, let’s do this’.
Michaela began to swing the pocket watch; a more detailed golden one she had brought from her home, as Nakia dimmed the lights. Feeling herself becoming more and more drowsy, Zoe was soon under the hypnotic trance and Michaela considered what kind of scenario she could make her run through as a test. Meanwhile, though Nakia was blushing as she realised it, the sight of Zoe in a hypnotic state turned her on. The way she stood there; motionless, completely at their mercy, it made naughty thoughts run through her head. She felt her nipples harden as she imagined walking over to Zoe, rubbing their bodies together, kissing her, sliding her hands through her soft hair and over her body, inside those tight trousers and sliding her fingers deep into Zoe’s-
‘-Nakia, any ideas?’.
‘Huh? Oh, yeah… ugh… let’s make her a gassy pop singer. Let’s see what happens’.
‘Um… okay’ said Michaela, slightly weirded out by the suggestion but going with it anyway.
‘Zoe, as I countdown from 5, you will awaken as a famous pop singer. You are giving a live performance to an audience of thousands of fans, yet you badly have to fart and won’t be able to stop. Everytime you do… you’ll be immensely embarrassed but keep performing anyway’.
Nakia stared into Zoe’s eyes; her own full of arousal, as she looked over her friend in this intimate state of vulnerability.
‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Awaken!’.
‘Hi everyone!’ said Zoe, in a voice far higher and enthusiastic than her normal tone. ‘I am literally so excited to be here, let’s get the music going!’.
Nakia and Michaela stared at each other incredulously; before beginning to laugh uncontrollably, as Zoe broke into song:
I heard you're feeling nothing's going right
Why don't you let me stop by?
The clock is ticking, running out of time
So we should party, all night
So cover your eyes, I have a surprise
As Nakia and Michaela began to calm down, a loud fart ripped from out of Zoe’s backside; causing the young woman to blush Scarlett red and clutch her bum, yet she didn’t stop singing, even as the smell of morning Nutella toast and orange juice came out through her butt as a putrid, eye-watering smell.
I hope you got a healthy appetite
If you wanna dance, if you want it all
You know that I'm the girl that you should call
Another loud fart ripped from Zoe’s bum, causing her to dance desperately on the spot; as she held her anus, with neither Nakia or Michaela sure if this was hypnotised or real desperation. Nevertheless, she continued singing and began pointing towards Nakia.
Girl, when you're with me
I'll give you a taste
Make it like your birthday everyday
I know you like it sweet
So you can have your cake
Give you something good to celebrate
Nakia blushed redder than a tomato, as Michaela smiled smugly at them.
‘The lyric is boy, not girl’ whispered Nakia.
‘Yep’ confirmed Michaela. ‘That must just be her’.
‘Shut up’ said Nakia, though she was breathing heavily now, which only got more rapid as Zoe approached her and began shaking her body inches from Nakia, her boobs shaking loosely in the spacious crop top.
So make a wish
I'll make it like your birthday everyday
I'll be your gift
Give you something good to celebrate
Pop your confetti
Pop your Pérignon
So hot and heavy, 'til dawn
I got you spinning
Like a disco ball
Nakia’s legs were shaking with excitement as she stared towards Zoe, her eyes fluttering between her friend’s breasts and face, their lips only inches from each other, as Zoe sung.
‘Zoe… awaken!’ said Michaela.
Nakia was immensely disappointed as Zoe awoke and; realising how close she was, recoiled back several ft.
‘Damn girl, what did you hypnotise me to do, be a lesbian?!’ joked Zoe, blushing at how close she and Nakia had been.
‘Nope’ said Michaela smugly. ‘Just to fart and sing’.
There was a tense, sexual silence in the room for several seconds.
‘Alright Nakia… you’re up!’ said Michaela.
Nakia went under the hypnosis even faster than Zoe did, her head slumped forwards; asleep and standing, as Zoe admired her crush in this state. She had to admit, it felt intimate, exposing and hot, though the next command from Michaela made the feelings even stronger.
‘Nakia… fart!’.
A loud, vicious smelling gas blew from Nakia’s bum as Zoe’s eyes widened, somehow finding the sight of this incredibly arousing. Even the smell didn’t disturb her as much as she thought it should and she could feel her light blue panties underneath her jeans beginning to get damp, as she bit her lip in pleasure.
‘Again!’.
Zoe had to supress a moan as Nakia let out another putrid fart, with Zoe’s panties going from damp to thoroughly wet, as she clamped her legs together, hugely enjoying the sight of Nakia so submissive, yet dirty; filthy, and depraved. She’d never felt so turned on by something so unorthodox. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Michaela giving the command again without losing control of herself in a way she wasn’t quite ready for.
‘Wait, Michaela-’ she began but it was too late.
‘Awaken!’.
To her relief; yet also disappointment, Nakia’s eyes fluttered open and her normal conscious returned. Both Nakia and Zoe stared at each other for a long while, both aroused by the experience, as Michaela looked on, amused.
‘You two look happy’ she said suggestively.
Both girls became defensive.
‘It’s just the programming!’.
‘Yeah, whatever that sick fuck Becky’s done to us, she’s messed with our heads’.
‘Absolutely!’.
‘Totally’.
‘Yep!’
‘Yep!’.
Michaela raised one eyebrow.
‘Uh-huh. Well anyway, that’s a start. Let’s see what else I can figure out’.
For the next few hours, Michaela worked tirelessly to test the hypnotic effects on both women and see what she could undo, restrict, replace or limit, with some promising results. She found that she could restrict Zoe’s chances of wetting herself by making her senses more heightened as she grew desperate, while removing some of the psychological barriers preventing her from using public and private toilets sooner.
For Nakia, she was able to trigger constipation in her whenever she was about to shit her pants, giving the young woman a few extra minutes to find a toilet while she was backed up. At which point, Michaela had placed a new trigger that wiped the old conditioning from her mind; relative to this condition, allowing her to shit in peace.
Unfortunately, the results were still limited. To get even that, Zoe had made her way through three pairs of Kamala’s stretchy trousers, wetting herself twice by mistake and once while waiting for new hypnotic triggers to be implemented by Michaela. Nakia had suffered similar accidents, four pairs of trousers covered in the young woman’s shit and was not keen to suffer anymore with further experimentation.
Michaela sighed. It wasn’t enough to de-program Zoe and Nakia; let alone Kamala.
‘We need to re-awaken her. We can’t make Kamala wait any longer, it’s not fair to her. We have to find a way to apprehend Betty, despite the hypnosis’.
‘How?’ asked Nakia.
‘Well, we can turn her to our side now, I’m sure of it. I could put her in a trance that makes her fight for us’ said Michaela hopefully.
‘Yeah but without removing Becky’s triggers, she’ll just get Kamala back on her side. You’ll both speak gobbledegook at her for ages, then just pull at her mind in an endless loop and that doesn’t do us any good either’ insisted Zoe.
The three girls looked sullen for a while, until Michaela suddenly sat up, a brain wave hitting her.
‘Zoe, what did you just say? Repeat it!’.
‘Uh, you’ll pull at her mind in an endless loop?’.
‘No, no, before that!’.
‘You’ll speak gobbledegook at her for ages!’.
Michaela leapt to her feet, ecstatic.
‘That’s it!’.
THREE HOURS LATER
‘Bravery!’.
Kamala gasped in horror, her memories flooding back to her, as Michaela held her still.
‘Kamala, it’s okay, we’re here, we’re here, it’s alright! We think we’ve got it!’
‘You can get rid of the programming?!’ said Kamala excitedly.
‘Well… no’.
‘Then how exactly have you ‘Got it’ said Kamala sarcastically.
‘We need to test a theory and if it works, we might just bring her down’.
‘What’s that?’.
‘We need to hypnotise you again’.
‘… Okay’ said Kamala reluctantly.
‘To be a chicken’.
‘What?’.
‘Just trust me. Please?’.
Kamala; baffled by the suggestion, was still desperate for anything that would let her escape Becky’s hypnotic control and so, she trusted her friend.
‘Okay… let’s try it’.
Within a few minutes, Michaela had put Kamala into a deep trance, standing frozen and slumped forwards, as Michaela relayed the instructions.
‘Kamala, as I count down from five, you’ll begin to feel more like a chicken with every passing second. When I say ‘Transform’, you will become a chicken upon hearing that word and will behave and act like one in every way. Human language will no longer make sense to you and you will only snap out of your trance if you hear one of us three do this whistle’.
Michaela let out a low pitch whistle sound.
‘During this state, no human language will make sense to you from anybody; you will be completely unable to understand it. No human language will make sense to you, you will be completely unable to understand it. Now then, let’s begin’.
‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Transform!’.
Kamala felt herself instantly disappear and suddenly, she felt as free and worriless as a bird, her thoughts reduced to simple meanings and desires, as she looked around herself for food.
‘Food, I want food, food, corn, corn, must find corn, hmmmm, where’s the corn?’ thought Kamala, smiling as she clucked about.
Her friends saw Kamala instantly began acting like a chicken, pecking her bed with her mouth, as she began flapping her arms at Zoe and Nakia, who moved out of her way; dismayed at their friend’s behaviour. Michaela grabbed the laptop and began playing an audio file, where Becky’s voice could be heard:
‘Kamala… burp!’.
The words had no effect on Kamala. Grinning, Michaela gave the whistle and Kamala stopped chewing on her blanket, spitting out the silk and looking extremely annoyed.
‘Well… how did that help?’ asked Kamala, annoyed.
Michaela pressed the laptop button again.
‘Kamala… burp!’.
Kamala let out a rousingly loud burp, grimacing in disgust afterwards, though Nakia, Zoe and Michaela looked delighted.
‘What?’ asked Kamala, confused.
‘Kamala, Becky wasn’t just lazy… she was stupid! She just gave us the tools for her downfall!’.
Kamala slowly began to grin as they explained it and; ready for a fight, grabbed her Ms. Marvel costume.
Lockdown was going to pay.
ONE HOUR LATER
Becky was sitting in an office chair, laughing at the videos Kamala had provided when suddenly, there was a loud banging at the door. Turning instantly, the door was blown off its hinges a second later and Kamala; fully costumed, stormed inside with Zoe, Nakia and Michaela close behind her.
‘Becky, it’s over!’ shouted Kamala.
Becky smiled, walking from her office towards the four.
‘Aww, look at the would-be-heroes’ said Becky patronisingly. ‘I guess you had the sense to figure something out but not enough to think of this. Kamala… obey!’.
Kamala’s whole body suddenly went from a fight-stance to a passive one in the blink of an eye, as she slowly walked over to stand beside Becky.
‘You didn’t think of that, did you little heroes?’.
Michaela smiled.
‘Actually, we did… Kamala, transform!’.
Suddenly, Kamala began clucking and pecking at and around Becky’s feet, as the villainess looked at her incredulously, before shoving her onto her back.
‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ said Becky, laughing in dismay. ‘You’ve made her a passive chicken with a counter command?! You idiots! I have an override command that can blot out yours!’.
‘Kamala… supreme!’.
Kamala did not respond, happily pecking at her shoes, as Becky gasped in dismay.
‘Kamala… supreme! Supreme! Supreme! Obey me!’.
‘She can’t’ explained Zoe. ‘She can’t understand human language.
Becky looked at them fearfully.
‘That means she can’t understand your commands. It’s over!’ ordered Michaela.
Becky drew a pistol from her waistband, pointing it towards Michaela.
‘Like hell it is!’.
Before she could fire, an arrow knocked the weapon out of her hands; causing Becky to yelp in surprise.
‘Don’t bother trying to shout commands at Kate either’ said Nakia, cracking her knuckles. ‘She’s got headphones in. She won’t hear you’.
Becky stared at them fearfully, as the three girls ran forward and before she could respond, simultaneously leapt forward.
‘This is for our friend!’.
The three ‘would-be-heroes’ punched Becky in the stomach simultaneously, making her scream in immense pain, as she was badly winded, collapsing to the ground on her knees. As she struggled to breath, Lockdown felt a warm sensation spreading through her panties and down into her trousers, as she tried to scream in rage.
‘No…’ she gasped. ‘I… can’t… hold it!’.
Rebecca St. Jude, Becky, Lockdown, the hypnotist, the aspiring super-villainess, the bitch… began to completely wet herself, soaking her tight, waist high blue jeans, a thick wet-patch expanding across them as she let out an enormous fart, which; moments later, turned out to be the prelude to her shitting her pants as well. Becky tried to moan in pain and horror but still had too little breath, as thick, crusty shit poured into her jeans and formed a horrendous smell around her.
‘God Becky, that reeks, what have you been eating here?’ asked Michaela, laughing.
‘I… I’m not like you people… I don’t have accidents… I’m not a baby… I’m…’.
‘… Live to the whole world!’ said Zoe enthusiastically. ‘That secret camera you gave Kamala in the scarf sure is nifty! The broadcasting range is incredible!’.
Becky managed to gasp in horror as she realised Nakia was wearing that exact scarf and; in the distance, she could hear the sound of police vehicles and S.H.I.E.L.D. approaching. Unable to comprehend her defeat and shame, Becky passed out, her face slamming hard against the floor, as the three girls winced in pain.
‘Ouch!’ said Michaela, before whistling to restore Kamala, who blinked back into consciousness and; seeing a collapsed Becky, smiled.
‘It’s over’ said Michaela, smiling.
A FEW MINUTES LATER
Kamala, Zoe, Nakia, and Michaela walked out of the building as Lockdown was led away; bruised and handcuffed, by several angry heroines, escorting her personally to The Raft. As they watched her be taken away, Kamala looked sad, as the others looked at her; confused.
‘You okay?’ asked Nakia.
‘I… I don’t know’ answered Kamala honestly. ‘We stopped her but only after weeks of all this happening. If I didn’t mess up in the first place, none of this would have happened’.
‘Kamala, you can’t blame yourself!’ protested Michaela. ‘Without you being brave enough to risk going back in there, this could have gone on for months; even years’.
‘I know but still… you all suffered as much as I did. I feel like I could have done more’ said Kamala sadly.
‘Spoken like a true hero’.
The four women looked up, to see Captain Marvel floating down in-front of them.
‘C-Carol, I-I mean, Captain!’ saluted Kamala, before putting her hand down; realizing how weird that looked. ‘I know what you said about not using your moniker, I swear, we didn’t go in wearing your colours and we only went in to stop Lockdown. I swear, I’ll never do that aga-’.
Kamala was interrupted from her babbling by Carol pulling her into a tight hug, as Kamala and the others gasped in shock.
‘Is this a dream?’ asked Kamala, disbelievingly. ‘This better not be another hypnotic illusion’.
‘I think we’ve all had enough of those’ said Carol smiling, as their hug broke apart. ‘Kamala, I am so sorry. When I saw you abandon those people on the bridge, I didn’t even stop to think that you might have been going through things I couldn’t see and I threw my crap onto you. You know the hypnosis impacted me and I was a jerk. I judged you in the moment, not for everything else I’ve seen you do, not for the kind of stuff you did today. You took on a supervillain while under severe mental stress; without backup, because I left you high and dry’.
Captain Marvel knelt down before Kamala, who was staring at Carol with tears in her eyes.
‘Kamala, you were a true hero today. All of you were. As far as I’m concerned, you can all use the moniker anytime you want. Today, you showed me what it means to live up to that; even when no one believes in you. Kamala, today… you were more worthy of the name Captain Marvel than I was. I hope; if you still want it, that you wear the Ms. Marvel name with distinction. There’s no one who deserves it more than you today. Not even me’.
Tears rolled down Kamala’s face freely as she threw herself around Carol, sobbing with happiness, as the older hero held her affectionately. The others joined the hug and they held each other close, as Captain Marvel and the four young women celebrated the victory, a moment of joy and peace, after a long period of darkness.
‘Come on, let’s get you four something to eat… there’s a lot of people who want to thank you!’.
EPILOGUE
Kamala Khan’s blacklisting from all superhero organizations was immediately lifted after the exposure of Rebecca St. Jude’s hypnosis schemes. Following glowing recommendations from Captain Marvel and a dozen other heroes, Ms. Marvel was inducted into the Avengers and became one of their most acclaimed new heroes. She appeared; in a limited capacity, on a number of talk shows and news station interviews to further expose Lockdown’s lies, restoring the credibility of dozens of female heroes across the world.
Two years later; due to her experiences at the hands of ‘Lockdown’, Kamala Khan was successfully able to resist the effects of an interstellar psychic entity and led the Avengers counter-attack against it, saving the earth from a world-ending invasion. In time, her fame and popularity grew to rival some of the most iconic superhero members of the Avengers, leading to increased tolerance towards ethnic minorities globally; something Kamala took immense pride in.
Captain Marvel’s issues were eliminated by Charles Xavier, wiping the hypnotic triggers from her subconscious. Afterward, she spent several months on earth, regularly fighting alongside Kamala Khan, leading to both becoming close friends. One day; many years later, Kamala would ask Carol Danvers to be the godmother to her firstborn child, a request she gladly accepted.
Michaela, Nakia, and Zoe all experienced a brief period of global fame after their discovery of the ‘Lockdown Hypno-Crisis’. During this time, they were rewarded danger-money settlements by the Avengers, compensating each of them $200,000 for their actions in stopping Rebecca St. Jude. Nakia and Zoe decided to go on a year-long holiday to Europe, during which time, they began a romantic relationship. Since returning to the United States, they have been living together in a shared apartment. Zoe does amateur modelling; though occasionally volunteers at a local homeless shelter, while Nakia started her own charity: TeenChange, an organization which became a powerful force in helping to tackle Cyberbullying, Domestic Abuse, and Addiction in the under 20’s age bracket.
Michaela was offered a private position working as a criminal investigator for Jennifer Walters AKA She-Hulk. Taking the offer, Michaela has helped uncover more than a dozen criminal operations and later played a part in the arrest and imprisonment of Wilson Fisk, leading to her briefly becoming a target; causing her to leave the mainland United States for six months. Upon returning, she continued her work and remains there to this day.
Rebecca St. Jude AKA Lockdown was taken to court and found guilty of numerous crimes, including robbery, arson, gross bodily harm, multiple counts of attempted murder, and a dozen counts of enhanced coercion, and was sentenced to thirty-eight years in ‘The Raft’. Unfortunately; due to a breakout by Dr. Octopus several months later, Lockdown was able to also evade imprisonment and is now on the run. Due to her advanced hypnotic skill, she is currently being hunted by highly trained, anti-telepath & hypnosis agents, working on behalf of the FBI. Her location remains unknown.
Jennifer Walters; among many other Marvel heroines, was cleared from most of the public humiliation after the truth of the hypnosis scandal came out. To her eternal annoyance, her client still chose to pursue justice through Nelson, Murdock & Page, a fact which still annoys her to no end.
Janet Van Dyne was greatly relieved to learn that it was not old age causing her body to so dramatically fail in many instances. Even so, the events left Janet troubled; worried that she had so easily been convinced to fear her own husband’s rebuke. After several weeks of heated arguments, the two went to a private marriage counsellor and; despite teething issues, such as Hank Pym shrinking the therapist’s office during one meeting in annoyance, the two have been making steady emotional progress.
Kate Bishop received no glory for her role in exposing the hypnosis crisis, which was just how she preferred it. Two months afterward, she and Clint Barton; the original Hawkeye, were sent on a mission by S.H.I.E.L.D. to assassinate the legendary assassin: Taskmaster. The results of this mission remain classified.
Gwen Stacy AKA Spiderwoman has been working to better control her new powers and has begun a; very long distance, relationship with Miles Morales. She can only stay in his universe for a few hours at a time but it is increasing with training and it is her hope that; one day, there will be no limit. Research into her cells may also crack the secret to permanently unlocking travel throughout the multiverse.
Once Lockdown was arrested, Carol Danvers took the four young heroes to a diner, where dozens of female superheroes had gathered, to express their immense gratitude. During this, the heroes decided that; not wanting to allow Lockdown to permanently ruin something which was meant to only be used for light fun, they would have a hypnosis show in the diner. Michaela; having been the one able to do some basic deprogramming, was the one called upon to do it and the heroes had an excellent time, as the young heroes willingly subjected themselves to hypnosis, this time as it should be: From their own free will.
THE DINER – POST CREDIT SCENE 😉
Kamala, Zoe, Nakia and Gwen Stacy stood on stage, waiting nervously, as Michaela walked on; now wearing a magician’s cape, leant to her by an actual sorceress, which all of them thought was pretty damn awesome. They’d asked Kate Bishop if she’d wanted to take part and her response of throwing a drink in their faces had seemed conclusive enough as to an answer. As such, Kate watched from the crowd; laughing, as the four women stepped forward.
‘Heroes of the world! Watch as I now turn these four women into chickens but not through the power of shapeshifting! Merely, the power of persuasion!’ said Michaela dramatically.
Swinging a gold-chain pocket watch in front of the four women, she snapped her fingers and the lights were dimmed; causing each of the four members on stage to only be able to concentrate on what was immediately in-front of them, exposing them quicker to the effects of hypnosis. Slowly, all four women began to sway on their feet: Kamala first; as the most heavily programmed beforehand, therefore the most at risk. Zoe went second, closely followed by Nakia. Gwen fought it for a little while longer but slowly, the slow ticking, the intense lights and the soothing calm of Michaela’s voice sent her straight into hypnotic sleep.
‘Now, I shall need help from you, my loving audience!’ said Michaela, flourishing her cape; as the other heroines laughed. ‘We shall all count down from ten and as we do, you four will feel our voices echoing in every part of your mind. As we count down from 10-1, you will feel less human and more like chickens with each passing second. You will forget social protocol, you will forget yourselves and become only chickens, until I say and the audience say the word, Excelsior! Now, let us begin the countdown.
The superheroes all chanted in unison:
’10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Chickens!’.
Instantly, Kamala, Nakia, Gwen and Zoe and began to cluck, peck the floor and flap their wings on stage, making strange clucking and ‘Cuckoo!’ noises, as the other heroines burst out with laughter. Kamala pecked at Nakia’s shoes as if eating corn, while Zoe and Nakia flapped their wings at each other; trying to intimidate the other into moving out of their path. Gwen’s were particularly hilarious, her spider-abilities combining with the hypnosis to cause her to start walking in chicken form up the wall; clucking as she went. Fairly soon, she was walking on the ceiling upside, sticking to the wall with her spider abilities, yet flapping her arms and pecking as if a chicken, while the heroes below laughed and prepared to catch her if she fell.
‘Alright everyone! All together now, it’s time to restore them. 3… 2… 1…’.
‘Excelsior!’.
Kamala stopped pecking at her shoes and leaned up in dismay, before blushing at her own actions, while Nakia and Zoe stopped head-butting each other and flapping their arms for dominance. Gwen fell from the ceiling but her spider-human reflexes allowed her to land perfectly and she did a bow after her recovery landing, while all of them received applause.
‘Thank you very much everyone!’ said Michaela, giving a bow to the audience, as the other girls did with her.
‘Thank you and goodnight!’.
THE END |
As the bell rings ending the school day at Capeside High School, the halls suddenly fill with happy students. As those students head to their respective lockers and prepare to go home, small groups can be seen together milling about he halls. Three longtime friends -- Joey, Dawson, and Pacey -- gather around Dawson’s locker in the main corridor of the school and discuss plans for the rest of the afternoon. In short order, a pretty blonde named Jen -- a relative newcomer to the school and the group -- is seen walking down the hall to join them.
“Hi Jen,” Dawson greets her. “Hi Guys,” Jen responds, “What’s up?” The group has plans, as they often do, to spend the afternoon at Dawson’s house and Jen is, of course, invited to join them. They are planning to watch the new Michelle Williams movie and Jen is a big fan of hers. “Are we ready to go?” Dawson then asks as he attempts to coral his friends. “Hold on a second,” Jen then tells them as she heads for the girls’ room just across the hall from where they are standing, “I gotta take a piss first.”
But no sooner does Jen take a step toward the propped-open girls’ room door, she is confronted by Mrs. Tringle coming out of there. “You have to do what?” she asks Jen, a definite tone of disapproval in her voice. “I have to take a p…,” Jen starts to say again before she catches herself, -- realizing that it’s her language that Mrs. Tringle disapproves of. “I mean, I have to pee,” Jen then quickly corrects herself. But that seems to annoy the teacher almost as much as Jen’s first choice of word. “It’s called ‘urinate,’ young lady, “ she then lectures Jen, “The proper term for what you have to do is urinate.” “Proper young ladies do not pee and they certainly don’t take a piss,” Mrs. Tringle continues lecturing the pretty, blonde-haired senior, “The proper term for what you have to do is urinate.” “You’re a senior in high school for goodness sake,” Mrs. Tringle rambles on, “And you’re still using euphemisms for simple bodily functions, “You can either use the correct term or simply say that you need to go to the lavatory.” Obviously, for whatever reason, this seems to be a sore subject with this particular teacher.
Jen, though, is a bit of an argumentative sort and she rolls her eyes at hearing all that. “Maybe I should say that I have to powder my nose,” Jen adds in a decidedly sarcastic tone. But that only serves to anger Mrs. Tringle even further. “That’s it!” she then tells Jen, raising her voice a bit, “You’ve just gotten yourself an hour of detention.”
That, of course, only serves to anger Jen, but the senior, blonde-haired beauty wisely holds her tongue. “Fine,” is all she says -- albeit in a similarly sarcastic tone -- as she then takes a few steps toward the girls’ room entrance. Mrs. Tringle, though, takes a few steps to block her. “NO!” she tells Jen, in no uncertain terms. “Detention starts now!” she tells the girl, pointing to the detention room, a few classrooms down the hall. “Um…I have to go,” Jen then tells her, pointing into the girls’ room. But Mrs. Tringle just shakes her head. “NO!” she emphatically tells Jen again, “You’ll go to detention NOW!”
But as the two of them stand at the entrance to the girls’ room -- the determined teacher blocking Jen’s entry therein -- Jen continues to argue that she really does need to go. “Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you decide to use profanity,” she lectures Jen further, “You know, I could have overlooked you using a slang term like ‘pee’ or something like that, but using that other word you used is just totally unacceptable.” But Jen argues that it’s one thing to give her detention but it’s another thing entirely not to let her go use the toilet when she really needs to go. “If you want to give me detention, then fine, but I still need to pee,” she tells her. This time it’s Mrs. Tringle who rolls her eyes -- and shakes her head. “If you have to go, then ask properly,” she angrily tells Jen -- obviously convinced that Jen either doesn’t get or simply refuses to get it.”
Jen, though, is a stubborn one and she doesn’t take orders or ultimatums easily. “Can I go powder my nose?” she then asks Mrs. Tringle, continuing -- or rather, escalating -- the sarcasm. The moment Jen she says it, she wants to take it back. She should have realized that her priority at this moment should have been getting to the girls’ room -- but the damage, obviously, has already been done. The comment -- Jen’s stubborn refusal to ask in the manner that she told to ask -- serves to outright enrage Mrs. Tringle. At this point, she doesn’t say much, but simply grabs Jen by the arm and takes her down the hall to the detention room. “If your own fault,” she angrily tells Jen, “Maybe after holding it in for the next hour or so, you’ll learn how to say it right.” As the strict teacher pulls Jen through the door, she tells Miss Jacobs -- the teacher in charge of detention that day -- “one hour for using profanity” as she points Jen to one of the open desks in the room.
By now, Jen is seriously regretting not simply saying it as Mrs. Tringle wanted her to say it. Having not been to the girls’ room since lunchtime, she really has to pee -- well, urinate -- quite badly. She decides to wait a few minutes to let Mrs. Tringle leave and to let things calm down a bit before she explains her situation to Miss Jacobs. Jen is actually happy to see that the teacher in charge of detention that day is Miss Jacobs. She has a reputation as one of the school’s nicest teachers.
But when Jen does finally ask her if she can go to the girls’ room, the usually kind-hearted teacher just shakes her head “no.” “I’m sorry, Jen,” she tells the girl, shaking her head, “But I just can’t let you go.” “Your detention is only one hour,” she then explains, “And the rules don’t provide for trips to the bathroom during those kind of detentions.” Miss Jacobs goes on to explain that for 3-hour extended detentions and 4-hour Saturday morning detentions, they do make allowances for a bathroom break, but not for 1-hour detentions. “We don’t really allow them for 2-hour double detentions, either,” she further explains, “Although if you really have to go, you can get one in exchange for an extra 15 minutes of detention time.” “Sorry, Jen” Miss Jacobs reiterates.
“But please, Miss Jacobs, I have to go -- I really have to go,” Jen pleads. She even offers to serve an extra 15 minutes if she would just let her go. But Miss Jacobs explains that that option is only available for those serving 2-hour double detentions -- not for those just serving a regular detention like Jen is. “It’s just an hour, Jen,” she reminds the girl, “Bathroom visits are simply not allowed in the rules.” “I think they just assumed that high schoolers could at least hold it in that long,” she explains, “And they just assumed that if you already had to go, you’d have just gone before you reported for detention.” “But I did try to go beforehand,” Jen then pleads, raising her voice a bit, “I was going to the girls’ room when this whole thing started.” But Miss Jacobs just puts up her hand signaling for Jen to stop. “I’m sorry but I just can’t let you go to the bathroom, Jen,” she tells the desperate blonde beauty, “ I’m afraid you’re just going to have to hold it in and wait.”
Jen, though, is not so sure she can wait. But hearing the firmness in Miss Jacob’s voice, Jen surely understands that she’s going to have to try as she is simply not going to let her go. “You’re a big girl, Jen -- you can hold it in,” Jen gives herself a pep talk,” “It’s only one hour like Miss Jacobs said -- you can wait.” But Jen’s attempts to psych herself up notwithstanding, it was going to be a long hour of detention. She hadn’t been to the girls’ room since lunchtime and was rapidly becoming more and more desperate to pee -- or rather, urinate. She sits there with legs contorted, squeezing her thigh muscles tightly and even pressing her hand into her crotch -- doing just about anything possible to keep in control of herself.
The final 15 minutes or so of detention are outright excruciating. At one point, Jen almost loses it. Well, actually she does lose it -- albeit for only a few seconds. A powerful quick spurt of pee escapes beyond her control before Jen is able to abruptly cut it off as she regains control. It isn’t enough to wet her pants per say, but it most certainly does dampen the crotch of her panties. But obviously, Jen knows that more is not far behind.
Jen gets up and makes a move to leave. “I’m sorry, Miss Jacobs, but I can’t wait,” she tells her, “You’re not going to make me wet my pants.” But Miss Jacobs manages to stop Jen at the classroom door. She warns her than leaving detention now without permission and against the rules amounts to insubordination and is grounds for suspension from school. “Come on, Jen, you really don‘t want to do that,” she urges the girl. “Please, Jen, you really don’t want to get suspended over this,” she implores the girl. “I don’t want to wet my pants, either,” Jen tells her in frustration, “I really don’t want to wet my pants.” But Jen hears what the teacher is saying. She really doesn’t want to get suspended, either
As Jen reluctantly returns to her seat, Miss Jacobs does offer her an alternative whereby she could let Jen go to the girls’ room immediately. “Well, I guess I could write you up as being absent from detention entirely -- I could write it up as you have cut detention,” she suggests, “And, of course, since you wouldn’t actually be in detention now, you’d be perfectly free to go to the girls’ room if you want.” But that, of course, would not be without consequences, as Miss Jacobs also then explains. “Of course, skipping detention would then mean you’d have to serve to serve two more detentions,” she explains, “You’d have to serve your original detention that you wouldn’t have technically served today and one additional detention for cutting today’s detention.
But Jen, not surprisingly, doesn’t consider that fair. “I’ve already mostly served this detention and I’d now have to serve 2 more detentions for cutting detention?” she asks, mostly rhetorically, “How is that fair?” But Miss Jacobs insists that that is the only alternative. “I’m sorry, Jen, but if you’re in detention now, you can’t go to the girls’ room until the hour is up,” she reiterates, “That’s simply what the rules are -- You just don’t get a bathroom visit during a regular one-hour detention.” Jen, now back in control of herself and now with the hour almost done, decides she can wait. She plans in her mind the whole process of her running from the detention room down the hall to the girls’ room. She pictures herself running through the open doorway and immediately into a stall, unzipping her jeans on the way. And then quickly taking down her jeans and panties, she’ll sit down on the toilet seat and get sweet relief. “Oh!, the feeling of relief is going to be so sweet,” she thinks to herself as she imagines her bladder just letting loose and splashing it all harmlessly into the toilet water below. As she sits out her time in detention she tries to focus on that. That and the thought that detention was almost over and it wouldn’t be long now.
Finally, 4 o’clock arrives and Jen doesn’t waste a minute in bolting from the detention room. But in doing so, she finds that she can’t actually run while still maintaining the necessary control of her bladder. Instead, she walks quickly in short measured steps -- still arriving at the girls’ room door in short course. Jen is already contemplating the sweet relief that she’s soon going to experience. But as the poor, desperate girl attempts to pull the girls’ room door open, that anticipated bliss is rudely interrupted. To her utter horror, Jen finds the girls’ room locked. And, as Jen starts to contemplate this situation, disaster truly strikes. Whether it was the psychological effect of her attempted bliss being delayed further or the force used attempting to open the door being diverted from controlling her bladder or Jen simply running out of time, the floodgates had been sprung.
As Jen turns to contemplate which girls’ room to head to next -- that is, which bathroom might still be open -- she feels more starting to escape from her bladder into her pants. Only this time it’s not only a spurt. The spurt becomes a stream and pretty soon Jen -- 18 years old and a senior in high school -- finds herself just standing there in the school hallway as more and more pee envelopes the crotch of her panties and jeans. As Jen desperately tries to clamp down and regain control, she feels streams running down each of her thighs as well. But as more and more of the yellow liquid escapes and the poor girl’s jeans become wetter and wetter, Jen starts to enjoy the feeling of relief. It’s undoubtedly the most humiliating experience of her life -- a mature 18-year old high school senior wetting her pants like a little girl -- but it’s simply impossible to deny how good it feels to finally empty her bladder after holding it in so long. No doubt realizing that he pants are already hopelessly wet, Jen just abandons any hope of holding it in further. The blonde-haired beauty just closes her eyes and lets it go -- now peeing freely into her pants right there in the school hallway.
By the time she opens her eyes again, her jeans are outright soaked and there’s a puddle on the floor beneath her. And as Jen regains her senses, she’s horrified to discover that she’s got an audience. Three girls who were in detention with her are right there staring aghast at Jen in her wet jeans and with her puddle of pee on the floor. At this late hour, the hallways of Capeside High are mostly deserted -- that much Jen is certainly thankful for -- but that’s only a small blessing to be sure. I mean, Jen obviously knows it’s not like these girls are going to keep this quiet. By this time tomorrow -- or probably even sooner -- Jen’s knows she’s going to be the laughingstock of the whole school.
Trying in vain to fight back the tears, Jen heads down the hall trying to find an open girls’ room. She finally does find one (in the Science section of the school) but she quickly realizes that it’s pretty much pointless now. Having just let it all go in her pants standing there in the hallway, she really doesn’t have to go anymore. And while she does contemplate trying to dry her jeans with electric hand dryers there in the girls’ room, she quickly realizes that her jeans being as wet as they are, that’s pretty much pointless. Jen realizes that everyone is going to know eventually -- by tomorrow actually -- so there really isn’t much point in even trying to hid it now.
All that’s really left for her to do now is head home with her shamefully wet jeans intact and in place. It’s a long, uncomfortable, shameful walk home to be sure. And seeing the new Michelle Williams movie will obviously have to wait for another day. |
Had an idea for a story about a trans guy using a urinal for the first time. I really hope the terminology used here is respectful, and that my description of the STP prosthetic's use is accurate. I was picturing the one from this company while I wrote this.
***
Avery’s prosthetic had finally arrived, and he loved it. Both for how it felt against him, inside his pants, and because he could wear it out anywhere; walk into a restroom and just pee standing up. It would be so much easier to use restrooms out in public now. He was always scared someone would notice he was sitting down to pee, and have an issue with him. This had led to a lot of desperation for him, as he tried his best to avoid entering public toilets altogether. That was over now. He could pee when he needed to, and he could do so standing.
The workings of the prosthetic seemed pretty simple. It all just came down to gravity. When he’d first washed it, he had observed how the water ran through the cup and spilled out the tip. He had also observed how too much water all at once could cause the cup to overflow.
He hadn’t actually peed with it yet.
The reviews online said it was a lot easier to get past the hesitation if the urge to go was more severe, that needing to pee very badly and standing there in front of the toilet would make it happen pretty automatically.
Several bottles of water later, and he was more than a little eager to give it a shot.
Just outside the door to the restroom though, he panicked, certain he’d make a mess of himself, his clothes, and the entire room. He could just take the prosthetic off, he thought. He could sit down and go, then try again later.
Except, he really wanted to do this.
Wow, Avery really needed to pee. He wanted to enjoy doing it standing up, not just the relief of going but going like any other guy— Avery’s bladder gave a twinge and he squeezed his legs tight together.
He hesitated at the door for a few more minutes, then placed a hand against it.
Right at that moment, the apartment’s doorbell rang.
Avery sighed. His Dad, was not home. Nobody else was around to get the door. He’d have to hold off a few more minutes. Avery walked to the door and swung it open, ignoring the confused pang from his bladder as he led it away from the toilet it needed.
The person at the door was his best friend, as well as the most beautiful girl Avery had ever seen; Lydia Johnstone. He felt his palms get sweaty as they often did when Lydia was around.
“Hi, Avery,” Lydia said. “I’m going to get some pizza and thought I’d ask if you wanted to come with?”
“Yes,” Avery answered right away.
“Awesome,” Lydia said happily. A smile broke across her gorgeous face. Avery’s heart pounded.
Avery stood there a few more seconds. He knew it would be unwise to leave the apartment with his bladder still full. All the sites warned pretty strongly against using an STP for the very first time in a public restroom, in case something went wrong. And, just sitting down to go in public set him on edge. Someone could notice and clock him, then give him a hard time about it, or even worse.
Yet, the words “Hold on a second, I gotta use the bathroom first” absolutely refused to form in his mouth. He felt himself start to blush just at the thought of saying that to Lydia. And, what if something went wrong with the STP while he was in there? Like, he overflowed it or something, and then he had to come back out in his wet pants to get changed, possibly with Lydia seeing?
No, he didn’t want to risk it. He’d hold it while he went out, then go once he got back here. Easy. Simple.
His bladder disagreed and sent a few particularly sharp twinges as he and Lydia descended the staircase that led from his apartment. Every step bounced the liquid in him up and down, making it press all the more against his sphincters. Once they were on the sidewalk, Avery started to think he may have made a mistake. But, if telling Lydia he needed a pee a few seconds ago when they were still in his apartment was too embarrassing, blurting out that he needed to run back inside and take a leak when they’d just left would probably be enough to literally kill him with shame.
Nope. He’d hold it. He could hold it. He really, really had to go, but he didn’t feel in danger of an accident or anything. Besides, once he and Lydia started talking as they walked, his need began to fade more into the background.
They arrived at the restaurant Lydia had chosen. The instant they were inside, Avery’s eyes automatically sought the door to the restroom. No, he couldn’t use it. Bad idea. What if he positioned his prosthetic wrong and just peed all over himself here? The thought of leaving the restroom, drenched in his own urine, in front of Lydia of all people—
Too risky. No.
Hold it.
That was a lot easier said than done. As he and Lydia sat at a table to await their order, Avery’s knee bounced up and down so much he nearly bashed it against the underside of the table. Maybe he could go into the restroom and sit down to pee, try the prosthetic later when he was at home? But, the restaurant was crowded. He knew there would be other people in the toilet, someone could notice how he peed. He knew it was ridiculous to think anyone was even paying that much attention to what he was doing, or to assume anybody’s first thought upon seeing a guy sit down to pee was that he must have been transgender— More likely, if they noticed at all, they’d just think he needed to do more than just pee.
But, knowing these things did not make it easier for Avery. It was still frightening for him. He’d gotten the prosthetic partially so he wouldn’t need to feel scared anymore. If he could just work up the nerve to actually use the stupid thing—
His and Lydia’s pizza arrived to the table. Avery had been so preoccupied by his bladder he hadn’t listened to what toppings Lydia had asked for; Anchovies and red pepper flakes. Salty and spicy and guaranteed to have Avery reaching for his water glass desperately.
“Is something wrong?” Lydia said. “You told me you like anchovies before.”
Avery did like anchovies. He just also liked having dry pants. That was going to be harder to achieve if he ate something that caused him to drink a lot of water when so much already needed to come out.
“Is it the red pepper?” Lydia asked. “Do you not like spicy food?”
Avery shook his head. He liked spicy food well enough. “This is fine, Lydia. Don’t worry. I just—“ HAVE TO PEE LIKE CRAZY “— was zoning out for a minute.”
As they ate, Avery was grateful for the table. His legs were hidden from Lydia’s view, so he could cross them together and jiggle them around as much as he wanted to. He just had to keep his expression neutral, which was hard to do. Hopefully if he looked pained, Lydia would just guess it was from the spice. He cringed when he had to reach for his water glass and take several long gulps.
Even though he knew it didn’t work that fast, he swore his bladder felt noticeably fuller the second he swallowed his last mouthful of water. His gaze kept being drug back to the restrooms. Men were entering and exiting every few seconds. It frightened him too much to go in, God how he needed to!
“Um… Avery?” Lydia asked suddenly. “Are you okay?”
Avery forced himself to straighten up, to stop fidgeting, to wipe the agonized look off his face. “Y—Yes,” he said, feeling his cheeks burn. “Why?”
“You… Um… You keep kicking me,” Lydia said with a laugh.
Avery flushed hot and cold. He’d been so lost in his desperation he hadn’t felt that he’d been kicking Lydia. “S—Sorry,” Avery stammered.
“What’s got you so antsy?” Lydia asked. “Oh, is it the Math test we have on Monday? I’ve been worried about that, too.
“It’s…” Avery lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. Confused, Lydia tilted her head closer to him. “I… I need to use the restroom.”
“Then go,” Lydia said, still confused. She spoke way too loudly for Avery’s liking. Lydia had an awful habit of not controlling the tone and volume of her voice. Normally, Avery found it cute. Now, however…
“I can’t,” Avery said.
“Why not?”
“Because…”
“Oh… That,” Lydia said. She knew her friend was transgender, but it was sometimes difficult to put herself in his shoes. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to constantly be reminded that your body had not come out the way it should have, that you had parts that shouldn’t have been there, and that important things were missing. Avery must receive reminders like that every time he needed to pee, having to look at and touch an area of his body that felt wrong to him, having no choice but to crouch or sit down to urinate, having that wrongness emphasized all the more. She wondered if maybe Avery sometimes forced himself to hold it until it just got to be impossible so he could avoid that feeling.
Lydia tried to speak quieter, figuring she could at least assuage his worries about one aspect of the problem; “Nobody will notice if you are sitting down.”
“I know they won’t,” Avery said. Now that Lydia knew what was troubling him, he was squirming more openly. He ground himself against his seat, he crossed his legs together at the ankles and rubbed them against one another. He even... well... started to hold himself. He was gripping the opening of the prosthetic a little, like on an instinct. He realized what he was doing and that it should have no affect on his ability to hold his pee inside his bladder, but there must have been some kind of psychological component to it because now that his hand was covering the opening, he did actually feel marginally more in control.
Avery fought back a bit more embarrassment. They were talking about it now. No real point in keeping quiet anymore. And, a part of him did really want to tell someone about this, Lydia was his best and closest friend, so she should be the perfect person for it. “And, I… I have this thing now. So I can… Do it standing.”
“Oh, cool,” Lydia said. She was sure that made him feel better. No more being reminded of the body parts he was uncomfortable with whenever he needed to pee. But, that added to her confusion about why he was still holding it. “So, what’s the problem?”
“I haven’t… I haven’t actually used it yet,” Avery explained. “I haven’t practiced at all, I’m worried I’ll mess it up really bad somehow."
So, Avery didn’t... Know how to aim? Was that it? Lydia didn’t think she would be of much use there, not like she had any experience in that field. She’d never even seen a guy pee before, she didn’t think. She didn’t have any brothers, and her Dad didn’t ever go with the door open. “Could you text your Dad?” she suggested. It would probably be really weird to get a text from your son asking how to aim your pee stream correctly, but he was the only cisgender guy she could think of that Avery was close enough to to ask for advice like that.
“Text him what?” Avery asked, still wriggling uncontrollably. If he didn’t come up with some way to handle this, the first time he peed with his new prosthetic would also be the first accident he’d had in years.
“How to… You know… Aim it?” Lydia said.
“That’s not the— I’m sure I can figure that part out,” Avery said. “Just point and shoot, right? But, I need to be sure it’s… uh... under me right, and I don’t want to overflow it, and—“
“Nobody will notice if you just sit down,” Lydia said. “Nobody’s going to be looking that closely.”
“I know…” Avery said. If he was honest with himself, it wasn’t just the fear of someone clocking him that made him hesitant to pee sitting down on a toilet. It was because, after years and years of wishing he could go standing up, sitting down to pee even one more time when he had another option was going to really suck. That and he’d have to take the prosthetic off to sit down. Even if he’d only been wearing it a little while, it had felt so utterly comfortable to him. It had ceased to be a prosthetic and had started to just be his dick. He didn’t want to take it off, to remind himself that it wasn’t what he'd been born with. It would make him feel fake and inauthentic.
Drip…
As Avery had thought these things over, the actual current state of his bladder had fallen to the wayside. It jolted back to the front of his mind when he felt a tiny warm dribble begin to seep from him. He clenched his thighs tighter, crossed his legs to the point it felt like he was cutting off the circulation. He managed to stem the flow, but knew he could not finish eating and get back to his apartment dry. He had to go! He’d reached the limit. Too much water and too much time spent fretting and holding. Something had to give.
It was going to really suck, it was going to be very uncomfortable, but he’d just pee sitting down and hope no one in there noticed or thought twice about it.
“I’m going to— To try,” Avery squeaked out to his friend. He was bursting, completely. He shot to his feet, and a bolt of need coursed through him in response. The change in gravity had been too much, too abrupt. Oh God, he couldn’t hold it much longer! Somehow he got himself to stand up a little straighter, but when he tried to walk his knees buckled beneath him, urgency shooting through his body.
“You okay?” Lydia asked.
“Ffffine,” Avery hissed out. “Be right back.” He rushed for the restroom as quickly as he bloated, over-hydrated body would allow him to move. At least it wasn’t a long walk. He pushed open the door and entered. There was a long row of urinals, a few of them in use. Avery could kind of hear the light sprinkling and quiet hsssss of the other guys’ streams hitting the porcelain, he tried to block it out as he hobbled in the direction of the two stalls… Which were both in use. Ohhhh, no! I can’t wait anymore! I have to go now! Have to!
He shakily headed over to the sinks to wait for one of the stalls to open up. He bounced in place as he waited. Ever since he began transitioning, he’d learned how long it could take for a stall to vacate in a men’s room, as most men only used them to poop unless they were particularly pee-shy at urinals. He knew how brutal it could be to wait for a stall with a brimming bladder. And, his bladder was brimming more today than he thought it ever had. He crossed his legs as he continued to jiggle in place.
He hoped that the guys in the stalls had been in there a while already, that they’d be exiting soon enough, that he could wait for them. But, he’d already waited so, so long. Being in a restroom was making his need worse. As the guys at the urinals finished doing what Avery needed to do, he realized he could not wait any longer. He just couldn’t. He was full. Completely. And more and more pee seemed to be filling his bladder by the second. He felt himself beginning to dribble again. He couldn’t wait. He had to go. God, he just had to go!
He could just… He had the prosthetic… He’d never used the prosthetic! He had no practice! All the websites said this was a bad idea.
No. Either he tried to use his prosthetic at the urinal and have at least a chance at staying dry, or he keep standing there until he had an accident. No other options. Desperate beyond belief, he rushed for the urinal at the far-side, furthest from the door. This one was lower to the ground than the others, which was good. He thought he had a better chance at making this work if the target was a little below him. At the others, he imagined he’d have to stand on the tips of his toes to direct his pee into them.
He shifted from foot to foot, swaying in place now. So, he just… Unzipped, right? The websites had said it was best to try this with your pants down the first few times… But, if he did that, it would surely attract a lot of unwanted attention. He undid the button on his pants, tugged the zipper down. His bladder spasmed angrily, sending more drips past his overworked sphincters.
He was trembling as he pulled the head of the prosthetic from his jeans. He kind of parted his legs a bit, and adjusted the positioning of the cup as much as he could. He hoped it was the right place. He was pretty sure he knew where it was his pee came out of, but knew if he was wrong this was gonna be a disaster. He thought it was in the right place. Please, please let that be the right place!
Now that he was reasonably certain it was safe to let flow, nothing happened. His mind kept buzzing. Was there a certain area he was supposed to aim at? He’d seen posts on the Internet where guys complained about getting ‘splashback’ at urinals, did that mean that if his pee hit the wrong area, would it just shoot back at him or something? Was he supposed to pee at the back wall-part, or into the bowl at the bottom? He was probably really, really overthinking this. It wasn’t rocket science, it was just a toilet that was a little different from what he was used to. And, more importantly, he had to GO.
He tried to relax and just stop fretting about such random things. He wasn’t attempting open heart surgery here, he was just trying to pee!
Ohhh, but what if it didn’t work right? He remembered how the cup could overflow if too much went into it at once. What if, since he had to go so bad, it ended up being too much, too fast, and it all overflowed and just went down his legs!? He had to stop worrying! He had to go so badly! He just had to—
Avery let out a shuddering breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as he did. His bladder had opened up, urine trickled down, out of his tip, little spatters against the urinal, and then a real stream. He knew better than to let go all the way, and made himself keep holding back a little bit. If he went full force, it would overflow for sure. As it was though, everything was perfectly okay. His pee was coming out, all going where he wanted it to, none was streaming down his legs or back-flowing over his butt. He was just… Peeing.
“Ahhhhhhhhh…” Even if he wasn’t letting himself go full-force, Avery was unable to keep himself from groaning with the relief, and the euphoria of watching his pee stream out his dick into a urinal. He thought it was stupid, but he’d actually seriously dreamed of being able to do this.
He closed his eyes, and tipped his head backward a bit. It felt so good. It felt good all around. For the first time in his entire life, he did not feel like he was in danger inside a public restroom. Anyone who saw him would look at him like they would any other guy. Because he was just like any other guy, even if he just needed some extra tools. He was just so happy that someone had invented prosthetics like the one he had now, it was like a new world was opening for him. One where he didn’t have to be scared when he needed to pee in public. One where he didn’t have to be reminded of the things that made him miserable every single time his bladder got too full to ignore.
At last he was empty, and the relief wore off. But, the euphoria did not. He was about to zip right back up, when he remembered the last thing he had to do. He leaned forward just a little and shook the prosthetic. A short stream of excess pee spattered out and he was grateful he’d remembered to do that so it hadn’t wound up in his pants instead. He finally zipped back up and a few minutes later he was back at the table with Lydia. She asked if it had worked out, and he told her it had worked out great. He felt so much better now, in so many ways. |
Okay, so I have a huge backlog of fiction updates to post to this site, but since I don't want to put up a ton all at once I'll just do a couple each day (Like, one chapter for each story.) You can view my AO3 account if you want to see more right away. (Link to that on my profile.)
***
Avery thought that he actually had two bladders. First, he had his Normal Bladder, the one that was average sized and filled up at a consistent, steady rate. When this was the bladder his kidneys chose to pump urine into, he could easily gauge how long he had left to find a restroom before it became an emergency.
But, then there was his Movie Bladder. This was a much, much smaller bladder that his body only chose to fill when he went to a movie theater. It was about half the size of a small cup of soda.
Avery hated having to get up in the middle of a movie, not just because he didn’t want to miss anything, but because he didn’t want to bother anyone else trying to climb out of the row. It didn’t matter if he used the restroom five minutes before the film was set to start. It didn’t matter if he took careful, small sips from his drink. It didn’t matter if he became absorbed in the movie and didn’t think about peeing. He always, always ended up needing to go. And he always ended up needing to go BAD.
He didn’t understand it. He could make it through entire days at school sometimes, which were much longer than any movie he’d ever watched. He could sleep through the night without having to get up for a pee. And, when he watched movies at home, he didn’t end up needing to pause them for a toilet break. He had no idea why his bladder always acted up at movie theaters, but for whatever reason, it just did.
But, this was, by far, the worst it had ever misbehaved while at a theater. Avery continually gave furtive glances to the now-empty soda cup resting in the cupholder beside him. Why did he have to have drank the whole thing? He'd known he’d end up needing to pee, and he was right smack dab in the middle of a very crowded row with no way out. Each time his eyes darted towards the stupid cup, he fantasized more and more about one possible way he could refill it. He had to repeatedly scold himself for thinking about doing something so disgusting.
And, logistically, it just wouldn’t work. He’d have to stand up from his seat so that the funnel of his prosthetic would work properly. That would attract attention. And, his pee would make a noise as it splashed into the cup. Everyone would turn and see him, and he’d be in a whole world of trouble.
It was a disgusting, awful, revolting idea.
But, his bladder spasmed and lurched every time he thought about carrying through with it. He crossed his legs back and forth underneath his seat as he tried to banish the idea from his brain. He couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t.
He looked up and down the row, wishing that at least one side wasn’t so densely packed. He didn’t want to bother anyone, but if he got up to pee, he’d have to bother at least six people. He hated feeling like he was in anybody’s way. That was how he’d felt his whole life, that he was an inconvenience to those around him. He didn’t act right, he didn’t dress right, he couldn’t figure out how to be the girl the world wanted him to be, and because of that he was at best a burden, and at worst a target. His best course of action was always to stay in the shadows and not let people notice that he existed.
He didn’t even fully realize how totally ingrained this rule was in his mind. Head down, eyes down, don’t look at anyone, don’t bother anyone. Just stay out of people’s way. These behaviors had become fully automatic, he did them at all times without even thinking, because there had been far too many times where he’d broken one of those rules and paid dearly for it.
He didn’t think on a conscious level that if he stood up and walked through the row for a pee, that he’d be jumped and beaten up. He just knew on a subconscious level that, in the past, when he’d made the mistake of getting too close to someone, that was what happened. It was fear, and a fear which he wasn’t even totally aware of, that kept him stuck in his spot.
Avery wondered how much longer the movie was going to be. He couldn’t concentrate on the story anymore at all. His legs continued to tangle around each other and he gripped onto both of the hand rests on his chair until his fingertips whitened. He managed to find a somewhat comfortable position for a few seconds, but then his bladder ramped up with its steady pulsing once more. He squeezed his thighs tight and tried to pay attention to the movie again.
He managed to pull that off for about five minutes before his bladder sent him a sudden and even more urgent signal that it wanted to be emptied right that very second. He had to go so much that it was starting to hurt. An agonizing, pinching sensation flared through his lower abdomen. He crossed his legs tighter and begged for the movie to finish. His thighs trembled in time with the throbs from his midsection.
He shook his legs anxiously, banging his knees against one another. That didn’t help, so instead he stretched his legs out in front of himself and leaned backwards, trying to give his poor bladder some more space to expand. Just like the day at the restaurant with Lydia, he found himself holding onto the tip of his prosthetic when particularly strong spasms threatened to send jets of urine into his pants. He was putting all of his energy into just controlling the massive tidal wave of liquid inside his body, but the sheer strain he was under was causing his muscles to lose resistance ever so slightly.
Avery’s bladder felt like it was about to explode into tiny shards. He didn’t think he could make it anymore. Again, he looked at his empty cup, visions of jumping to his feet, yanking its top off, tugging down his zipper and releasing an ocean into it once more filling his mind’s eye. It would just feel so good to let it flow, to let his waters gush freely into the cup, spurting and spraying as the agony fled from his body to finally leave him be…
‘No,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘Stop thinking about that. You’ll get freaking ARRESTED if you do that.’ He squeezed his thighs together even tighter, feeling the first dribbles escaping the confines of his overstretched bladder. A series of pangs rippled through its walls, shaking the bloated organ and tossing the gallons of pee around inside of it. He whimpered and crossed his legs desperately, doubling over. He managed to get the spasm back under control, but his bladder was still just so full, and his entire body was trembling with urgent need.
He couldn’t wait much longer. He’d already waited too long. He had to get to a toilet or he’d pee his pants. Scissoring his legs anxiously, Avery tried to psyche himself up to stand and force his way down the row. His anxiety spiked, however. There were so many people, and they’d be looking at him, and thinking about him, and maybe even angry with him… He wriggled against his chair, against his own nerves. He bounced in place, the idea of enraging someone sending shivers down his spine… Or, maybe the shiver was just from the intense pressure in his bladder.
A squirt of piss soaked into his boxers, and he stood up abruptly, pressing his heels against each other. He couldn’t wait. He had to just do it. “I—I’m really sorry,” he said softly to each person he passed. Every time he accidentally stepped on a toe, he grew more certain that someone was going to deck him, but no one did. Finally, he was out of the row and into the aisle. He just had to make it a little further now. Just had to get to a restroom…
Since Avery’s bladder hated movies for whatever reason, he knew exactly where the restroom in the theater was. He limped his way towards it, his bladder loosening itself up in eager anticipation of the urinal he was, at long last, going to bring it to…
Then his muscles tightened and cramped painfully when he saw the line.
Apparently, one of the movies playing today had just ended, and everyone that had been watching it must have had a lot to drink during it. The line was huge. Avery now knew that men’s room lines tended to pass a lot faster than women’s room lines did, but still… He didn’t think he could make it through any sort of line. No matter how quickly it moved. Still, he got himself to the back of that line as fast as his bloated body could move.
He also knew that it was hard to blend into his surroundings and not be noticed when he couldn’t stop doing a pee-dance. And, he definitely couldn’t stop doing a pee-dance right now. His legs were in endless, frantic, urgent motion. He jumped from foot to foot, shuffling in place, flexing his thighs. His hands balled themselves into fists, before he hunched over and scraped his nails against his knees, jiggling in place.
He knew people were looking at him. And, the same thoughts that always assaulted him when people were staring soared through his mind. Could they tell? Could they tell he wasn’t a ‘normal’ guy? Had his hair gotten too long? Was his face too round? Was his binder not on right? Were his hips too wide? Could they tell?
What if they could? What if someone came up to him and accused him of being in the wrong line, asked why he thought he belonged in a men’s restroom? What would he say to them? He didn’t think he’d be able to say anything… Panic swept through his body, settling painful and heavy on top of his bladder. As his fear built, so too did his desperation and he felt himself starting to leak once more.
If they were doubting he was a man, they would surely stop questioning it once he got to the urinal, wouldn’t they? They’d see he was the same as any other guy, then. They’d see he was a normal guy that just really, really had to use the restroom. Yeah. That was all he needed. He just needed to pee, like everyone else here did. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. But, his anxiety was still flaring, and it was making him need to go even worse.
He considered bolting from the line, rushing to the back of the building and releasing his bladder onto the wall instead. The wall didn’t have a line, and he didn’t have to worry that anyone would think he wasn’t the correct gender to use it. He’d peed against walls a few times since he’d gotten his prosthetic, but all those times had been late at night, when it had been dark and no one would have seen. Now, it was broad daylight. People would definitely see. And what if one of those people was a cop? He knew THAT was unlikely, but it was still too scary for him to consider going through with it.
At least the line seemed to be moving. And, even though people were looking at him, no one had said anything. So, they were just watching his fidgeting, then? Was that all? He hoped so… Avery was probably the only person to ever feel relieved at the idea that people were staring at him because he was obviously on the verge of pissing his pants.
The line moved at a decent pace, but nothing was fast enough for Avery at that point. He leaked several more times before he’d even gotten into the room, and once he was inside and could hear streams trickling and sinks running, he felt even more like he was about to explode.
He could scarcely believe that his desperation could keep getting worse. He’d thought for sure that what he’d felt when he’d still been sitting in the theater was the worst anyone could possibly need to use the toilet, but his body was dead-set on proving him wrong today. He was jogging in place now, spurt after spurt soaking into his boxers. He gripped onto the tip of his prosthetic and felt some semblance of relief from the action, but whimpered in the back of his throat anyway.
He was gonna pee. There was no way around it. He couldn’t make it any further. He was gonna have an accident right there in the restroom. He just couldn’t handle the line. He was too full, too bursting, he couldn’t take any more waiting.
‘I could ask someone to let me cut…’ he thought.
‘What? No I can’t!’ The idea of talking to someone made his heart pound so hard that his chest hurt… And another jet of piss sprayed from him.
‘I have to… I’m gonna have an accident if I don’t…’
He tapped the person in front of him, and the man turned around and looked down at him. “I—I’m really sorry,” Avery said, his voice wavering as it always did when he talked to people. God, his voice… He hated it so much. It was too high, too airy. So many times, people would do double-takes when they heard him talk. He tried not to notice it, but he always did. “I’m… Can I go ahead of you?”
The guy stared at Avery’s shuffling feet, and the position of his hand. Avery squirmed under his gaze from more than just desperation “…Yeah,” he said.
Avery exhaled a little. Then, went to the next person and asked the same thing. The guy gave him the same nerve-wracking once-over, and let him skip ahead. Same for the third man. Avery weaved and bobbed. It was his turn next. Just a few more seconds, and he’d be peeing. He could do it. He HAD done it. He’d fought down his fear of people just enough to be able to make it to the toilet in time. He’d done it.
He cringed and writhed as a urinal flushed, the sound sending shockwaves through his bladder. But, when the man stepped away from it, leaving it vacant, Avery could have cried with relief. He hurried to it, unzipping all the while, and aimed his prosthetic.
Pee trickled down its shaft and sprinkled against the porcelain as he let out a relieved gust of air through his nose. His stream came out slowly and steadily. He’d been so desperate to go that his bladder couldn’t unclamp all the way just yet. It hadn’t gotten the memo that it was okay to release. After a handful of seconds, his muscles slackened a little further and he was going more forcefully.
The relief then was magnificent enough that his eyes drooped halfway closed and his mouth hung open slightly. He’d made it! He’d made it! He’d finally made it! Now, he could finally just stand there and let it all drain away. All the tension, all the fear, all the horrible, agonizing desperation. All of it was leaving him now, replaced by nothing more than a light, floaty sensation that made him shiver. He felt so safe, so relaxed, so, so much better…
His bladder kept gushing for a little more than a minute, and he leaned forward as he shook out the final drops before tucking himself back into his boxers and zipping up. As he walked to the sinks, his legs were a little wobbly. His whole body was a little wobbly, really. Tingly feelings were still traveling up and down his spine. He’d had no idea that simply not-needing-to-pee could be such an amazing feeling.
He washed off his hands before returning to the theater. He’d need to go through the row to get back to his seat again, but he felt a little less scared the second time. He was okay. |
Avery was really looking forward to getting back to his apartment. He and Lydia had been paired up for a project at school, and he could barely wait to get to spend more time with her. More than that, however, Avery could barely wait to get to the toilet in the apartment. His bladder was practically on fire, and his desire to look comfortable and relaxed in front of Lydia was making it very difficult for him to do much of anything to help tamper down the need.
He really should have gone before he’d left school for the day. He’d known he’d needed to go then, the school had plenty of men’s rooms he could have stopped off at before exiting through the doors. Only one of the ones he’d passed had any sort of line and it wasn’t even very long. He could have gone then. He should have gone then.
But, after the day at the restaurant where Lydia had seen him get so utterly desperate, Avery now felt a little… Well, not ‘ashamed’ exactly, but certainly pretty shy about telling her he needed to visit the toilet. It was a silly thing to feel, Lydia hadn’t even brought up the earlier emergency she’d been witness too, and certainly didn’t seem to care, but as he and Lydia headed out of the school, the words “Wait here a second, gotta hit the restroom first,” refused to form on his tongue.
It wouldn’t be far to his apartment, anyway. And he didn’t have to go that bad!
But, then came the subway ride. Avery had lived in New York long enough to learn that the subway moved incredibly fast and would get him to his apartment and, more important, the toilet inside of it at lightning speed. But, Avery hadn’t lived in New York long enough to learn that sometimes the subway got delayed. And when that happened, it definitely didn’t move very fast.
The slightly uncomfortable pressure in his bladder poked at him a little more fiercely as he stood on the subway and waited for it to start moving. Avery wished he could sit down, that way if he crossed his legs it would at least look casual and not like he was holding in his pee. But, it was crowded, all the seats were already taken. And the idea of asking someone if they could trade places with him, of potentially annoying them or making them angry, was too frightening to Avery. He understood that people who were elderly, pregnant or had certain medical problems could be given priority for seats, but Avery didn’t think that ‘really needing a restroom’ was one of the medical problems that counted.
So, he’d just stood there, trying not to sway too obviously with Lydia right beside him. She talked to him some, told him how irritating the delays could get, but it was obvious she had no idea of exactly HOW irritated Avery was by it. He wondered if subway stations had bathrooms. He’d never had to go this badly while in one before, so he’d never had any reason to check. He tried to remember if he’d ever seen a sign for one down here before, but he couldn’t recall anything.
He considered asking Lydia if there was a toilet in the station he could go use really quick. But, once again, those words wouldn’t come. If Lydia found out he had to pee, she’d know how badly, she’d know how he’d been holding it, and she’d remember all of his humiliating squirming from the previous incident. He tried to ignore those worries; ‘What’s more embarrassing?’ he asked himself. ‘Asking Lydia about the restroom NOW when it’s not an emergency, or holding it until it IS one?’
Just as he’d gotten up the nerve to ask, the subway train finally began to move. His chance to pee was gone now. He just had to wait until he was home. He felt confident he could still manage that, even if it was uncomfortable. He tried to listen to what Lydia was saying, but she was talking about sport statistics, something which Avery could barely understand on the best of days. Today, while nursing an aching bladder, talk of ‘batting averages’ sounded like Lydia was speaking Italian. “What do you think?” Lydia asked suddenly.
Avery balled his hands into fists and sucked in his breath around his teeth. He felt vulnerable now, Lydia’s eyes were on him and he was scared his need was apparent on his face. “Um… Yeah.”
Lydia blinked at him.
Avery shuffled his feet together, trying not to raise either of them off the floor. He knew if he lifted one for a second, the other would follow, and he’d begin dancing from side to side, stepping in place in clear need of a toilet. Lydia wasn’t always the best at picking up on body language or facial cues, but he was pretty sure she’d be able to tell what his pee-dance meant if he allowed himself to perform it.
“What do you mean, yeah?”
Avery was sweating from the strain in his center and the knowledge that he was doubtlessly embarrassing himself again. “I’m… I’m sorry. I was thinking about… The project,” he decided. Lydia was still looking at him, and Avery couldn’t possibly allow himself to fidget his feet or cross his legs now. He had to act normal, but his bladder didn’t seem to care about what ‘normal’ was and was doing everything it could to force him to start performing an embarrassing little dance.
“Oh,” Lydia said. “Yeah, I guess we should start talking about that, huh?” And, she did. Avery could follow that conversation a little better, but the mounting pressure agitating his sphincters wasn’t making it easy. He felt a sudden jolt in his middle, followed by a single, solitary little drop leaking from the confines of his bladder. It made him gasp with his teeth clenched down as he fought to regain control of himself. He managed to stop after that one drop, but all the others were violently knocking against his opening, demanding to join it and be set free.
Finally, they arrived at the proper stop, and Avery once more considered asking Lydia if there was a toilet in the station he could use. He wasn’t looking forward to carting his bladder up the steps to leave the station. Nor was he very eager about dragging it the last couple blocks to his apartment. But, he WAS really close to being home, and if given the choice between peeing at home and peeing in a public restroom, he would always choose home. There was no need to worry about someone seeing him enter the restroom at home and deciding he’d gone into the wrong one. There was no need to worry that someone would think the position he stood in as he urinated looked strange. There was no need to worry that someone would accidentally glance down at him and notice his prosthetic wasn’t exactly the same color as the rest of his skin.
He knew these things were silly to worry about to begin with. The first thing had only happened one time, before he’d moved to New York. And the other two things had never happened at all. He knew no one cared enough about him to scrutinize what kind of stance he took at the urinal, and that if anyone looked at his dick long enough to notice the color was off, then they were the one doing something wrong and not him. But, no matter how many times he reassured himself, no matter how many times he said ‘I look like a regular guy, and I pee standing up, so why would anyone question a thing when I’m in the restroom?’ it never quite sunk in or felt real.
Being able to go standing up had significantly boosted his confidence in public toilets, but everything around that and leading up to that still made him nervous. Yes, once he unzipped at a urinal and let it flow, anyone who could have been thinking about being an ass to him would probably leave him be. But, first he had to get TO the urinal, and if someone stopped him BEFORE that, he’d come apart. He’d be terrified and shaking, and he’d just confirm whatever awful things they’d been thinking about him.
He felt confident and sure of himself when he actually PEED in a public restroom, he just needed to find a solution that would allow him to feel that way as he ENTERED one as well. And, for now, he didn’t have the answer to that. So, for now, since he was so close to home, that would have to be where he relieved his overburdened bladder this time.
Avery followed Lydia out of the station, more than ready to make a long awaited trip to the restroom. He was grateful that he was finally so close, surely only minutes away from relief, until he felt his bladder spasm painfully as he climbed the stairs to leave. Nearly doubling over on himself, he let out a mix of a pained groan and strained yelp as he felt like those minutes suddenly multiplied. Now that he was walking, now that he was moving around instead of standing in one place, his bladder was being jostled and knocked around inside of his body, every impact making its threats to spray its contents down Avery’s legs louder and louder.
Avery had fallen completely silent even while Lydia continued talking to him. It was impossible to reply while fighting against a bladder that constantly demanded for release. When they stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the light to change, Avery crossed his legs involuntarily and squeezed them together along with his thighs. “Mnnn…” he mumbled, trying not to begin jiggling up and down and making his condition even more obvious.
Lydia turned and looked at him. “Did you say something?”
Avery shook his head and forced himself to straighten out. ‘You’re almost there,’ he promised his bladder. ‘So close. Just a little bit longer.’
The light changed and they walked across the street. Avery started panicking internally as he felt his liquid sloshing and a few more eager drops spurting out, threatening to burst into a real stream at any moment. ‘Whyyyy didn’t I just go at school?!’ Avery screamed at himself in his mind. How could he have been so dumb? Surely telling Lydia to hang on a minute while he hosed down a urinal would have been less humiliating than pissing his pants in front of her! And that second thing was starting to look like a distinct possibility!
In an effort to prevent himself from any further involuntary releases, Avery kept his thighs clenched and walked without letting his knees bend very much. He knew he probably looked very strange, like he was doing some sort of bizarre march a villain’s henchmen would do in a movie, but it took some of the edge off his need so he did it anyway.
Lydia noticed his weird walk and laughed; “What are you doing?!”
Avery immediately forced himself to stop. “N—Nothing,” he stammered, realizing they were finally at his building. The small apartment he shared with his uncle was several floors up. Sometimes he took the stairs to reach it, but today that was an impossibility.
Lydia liked to run up stairs though, as a form of exercise. “I—I know you like to work out on stairs and stuff, but let’s take the elevator today,” Avery whispered frantically. His feet started stepping in place despite his best efforts.
“Um, alright,” Lydia said. “Oh, if I run up the stairs as fast as I can, I bet I could beat the elevator to your floor!” she said excitedly.
“Y—You won’t be able to get in without a key,” Avery reminded, his voice clearly straining.
“Oh, right,” Lydia said.
As soon as she’d said that, Avery had taken her by the wrist and escorted her quickly through the building’s lobby and to the elevator. ‘There need to be restrooms in the lobby!’ Avery thought. ‘Why aren’t there any!?’ Didn’t the people who designed the building understand that sometimes a resident would just need to go SO badly that making it up to their apartment was too big of a challenge!?
Once inside the elevator, Avery frantically jabbed at the button for his floor. ‘Hurry,’ he begged the elevator. ‘Hurry, hurry, hurry! I’m gonna burst!’ Almost on cue upon having that thought, two things happened; First, the elevator jolted to a stop, and the buttons went dim as their lights went out. Two, the pressure against Avery’s opening grew even more and made a slow trickle seep into his clothing.
“Ohhhh,” Avery moaned weakly. ‘No, no, no, no, no… Please, no. Not now. Please! Lydia’s right here!’ While he spent several seconds fighting to regain control of his poor, tired muscles, Lydia began to speak again.
“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “I’ve been stuck in elevators before, and it usually gets fixed really fast!”
Avery didn’t think ANYTHING could possibly be fast enough for him at this point. Unless it resulted in getting him to a toilet thirty minutes ago, it wasn’t quick enough! Still, he tried to smile and pretend like he wasn’t on the edge of spilling his bladder all over the floor. “That’s good!” he said, clenching his muscles as hard as he could.
Just like at the crosswalk, his legs tied themselves into a knot. But, this time around, he wasn’t able to stop himself from jiggling. And, when a whimper fell from his lips, it was implausibly loud in the tiny room.
“You are… claustrophobic?” Lydia guessed as she studied him. It was obvious he was really freaked out, and he certainly didn’t look comfortable.
“Yesss… No…. I don’t know…” Avery managed. He doubled over then, using his hands to help press his straining thighs even tighter together. He continued to bob up and down, sweat pouring down his face. This was bad. This was so, so bad… He was gonna pee his pants, and he was gonna do it in front of Lydia. She may not have teased him for getting desperate at the pizza restaurant, but he didn’t think ANYONE could resist teasing someone his age after they’d flooded their clothes in an elevator…
“Avery?” Lydia said. “Are you sick?”
Avery had to pee so badly he actually felt like he was going to throw up… “N— I don’t think so!” he managed. ‘Toilet, please…’
“… Do you have to pee?” Lydia tried again.
“YES!” Avery cried out. “I really, really have to go! So bad!” Now that he’d admitted his need, he couldn’t stop his desperate, needy babbling. Even as the words being ejected from his mouth made him blush and flush hot with embarrassment, he kept on talking. “I’ve been holding it for so long, I can’t wait anymore!” It was as if since he was using every ounce of strength to keep his bladder from releasing an uncontrollable stream, his mouth had decided to take its place and unleash an uncontrollable stream of words instead. “I’m gonna wet myself! I feel like I’m gonna die if I don’t pee!”
“…Um, okay,” Lydia interjected through Avery’s urgent rambling. “Wow… I… I’ve never seen anybody our age have an accident before…”
Lydia had a terrible habit of speaking without thinking about it, and being incredibly blunt. Often, she would think she was saying something perfectly nice and normal, only to find out later that she’d upset someone else or made them uncomfortable. She never, ever meant to do it, just… Words were confusing for her sometimes.
‘I’ve never seen anybody our age have an accident before’ had definitely NOT been something Avery needed to hear in that moment. As soon as the words left her lips, Lydia knew they’d been the wrong ones by the way he immediately turned away from her and crouched down in a corner, rocking back and forth, obviously painful with need. “I can’t hold it…” he continued to whimper. “I can’t… I have to go… I can’t wait…”
“I didn’t mean it like that!” Lydia quickly amended, but she knew it was too late. She’d hurt Avery’s feelings without meaning to at all… She frantically tried to think of how to make it better. “And, it’s okay! I won’t laugh at you when you pee yourself!”
Avery scrunched up further.
That hadn’t worked… Lydia felt awful. Why did she say such stupid stuff all the time? Why couldn’t she figure out how to talk to people normally? It was like everyone else on Earth had been given a ‘How To Communicate With Humans’ handbook when they were born and Lydia had been skipped over for some reason.
She wanted Avery to feel better, and she had a feeling the only thing that COULD make him feel better would be having an empty bladder that HADN’T been drained out into his pants. The elevator still wasn’t moving, though… Lydia took off her bag and dug around in it until she found what she’d been looking for; A large water bottle that she’d drained earlier in the day. As Lydia participated in a lot of athletic activities, the bottle was very big; Certainly large enough to hold poor Avery’s bladder.
Could Avery pee in a bottle though? The opening was kinda tiny, and Lydia wasn’t really sure how his stand-to-pee thingy worked and if he could hit smaller targets without making a mess. It couldn’t hurt to make the offer, she supposed. “Avery, can you pee in bottles?”
Avery jumped a little, a small amount of urine snaking past his defenses once more. “What?”
“I have an empty bottle,” Lydia said. “But, the opening on it is small, and I didn’t know if—“
“Give it, give it!” Avery begged, suddenly wanting that bottle more than he wanted a winning lottery ticket. He hadn’t ever peed into a bottle before, but he was already thinking about how it would work. If he stood up, unzipped, cupped his prosthetic underneath himself and pressed it nice and tight against his body like he was supposed to, then he could hold the bottle in his other hand and just place its opening right below the opening of his prosthetic. Then, he could pee! He could finally pee! He could pee and pee and—
In front of Lydia…
He could whip out his dick and loudly piss into a bottle with Lydia standing right there.
When Lydia handed Avery the bottle, she’d expected to hear his zipper coming down right afterward, but it didn’t.
‘Come on!’ Avery tried to psyche himself up. He cringed as he stood back upright. His bladder lurched at the movement, threads and dribbles of urine cascading down his legs. He stomped his feet, trying to get them to stop. ‘What’s more embarrassing? Going in the bottle, or going in your pants? ‘Cause ONE of those is gonna happen in the next five minutes!’
Lydia was confused, worried that Avery had decided the opening was too little for him after all and that the bottle wouldn’t work. Or, worse, maybe he’d already wet himself? But, the elevator didn’t smell funny, and Lydia hadn’t heard any splashing coming from his direction. “Avery?”
“Can you… Stand as far away from me as possible?” Avery pleaded. He knew that wouldn’t be very far at all with how small the elevator was, but he just… He just couldn’t have her RIGHT there… “And, just look at the wall, okay? And try not to listen?”
Oh… So, he was just shy. Lydia certainly hadn’t been planning to watch him go, but if he needed her further away, that was fine. She did as he’d asked. “Okay!” she said. “Let’er rip!”
Avery wasn’t sure if it was possible for his face to feel any warmer. “Ack! Don’t say that!” he managed to choke out. To give himself a little more privacy, he unzipped his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. The leaking was constant now, and he knew his jeans were likely visibly damp.
“S—Sorry!” Lydia said. She’d only been trying to lighten the mood. This whole thing had felt weirdly tense.
Avery unscrewed the cap on the bottle then reached underneath his jacket for the zip on his pants, giving it an urgent tug. Finally, he pulled himself free, and after a few very quick adjustments, he knew his prosthetic and the bottle were both right where he needed them. It was over. He could go. He was safe.
He finally allowed himself to relax. His wavering, shuddering leaks instantly transformed into a cascading waterfall of relief. Pee loudly tinkled agains the material of the bottle and Avery sighed contentedly, his body at long last able to do what it had needed to do for so long. “Haaaahhhh…Yeah, that’s the stuff…”
Lydia had to try very hard not to laugh at that noise, and it was even more difficult not to crack up at the remark that followed it. And he’d scolded her for saying ‘let’er rip?’ She was trying to do as Avery asked and not listen, but it was a little hard not to listen to the only sound in the room. Especially when it was so loud. The only noises present in the elevator were that of Avery’s heavy breaths and his pee spraying forcefully against itself in the bottle.
‘Holy crap,’ Lydia thought after enough time had passed and Avery was still gushing like a busted fire hydrant. ‘He REALLY had to go…’ She started to feel a little worried about him, she knew it wasn’t healthy to hold in urine for very long, and from the way Avery’s release sounded, Lydia wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first pee he’d had in a week!
Avery shut his eyes, trying to forget about where he was and who he was with so he could just concentrate on the way the tension slowly flowed out of his bloated body. He could actually feel his bladder shrinking inside of him, deflating itself back to its proper size. It felt so wonderful. His mouth hung open as he continued to pour out his burden. “Ohhh….” he sighed again breathily as a shiver worked its way up from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. After a final few pulses, Avery finally felt the glorious emptiness of a freshly drained bladder. He gave his STP a good shake before tucking it back into his boxers.
He pulled the bottle back out from underneath the concealment of his jacket. Since it had been hidden away the whole time he’d been peeing, he’d only been able to judge how full he was making it by how heavy and warm it had gotten in his hand. He’d assumed he must have only filled it up half way or so, but when he saw how much fluid he’d actually pumped into it, he was very grateful he’d finished up when he had. He’d very nearly overflowed it! He screwed the cap back into place, and zipped up. He decided to leave his jacket where it was, positive he must have had a visible wet spot on his jeans somewhere. He exhaled heavily and set the bottle down on the ground before slumping against the wall.
“… All done?” Lydia asked after a moment.
“Y…Yeah,” Avery said, certain he was still bright red. He’d… Peed in front of Lydia. He’d peed into Lydia’s water bottle in front of her! Sure, she’d said he could, but still! That bottle was probably ruined now that it had been used as a urinal… “I’m really sorry. I just… Couldn’t—“
“I know, you couldn’t hold it,” Lydia said. “You said that about five hundred times.”
Avery blushed more, “Sorry…” he repeated.
“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “You needed that, it’s alright. Don’t feel bad.”
Even with as embarrassed as Avery was, he didn’t have it in him to feel bad. His body felt so light and floaty that he couldn’t help but feel good. “Your… Bottle,” he said. “It—“
“Can be washed,” Lydia interrupted. “And, if not, I can just get another one. It’s just a bottle. If your bladder ended up exploding you wouldn’t be able to replace it.”
“I don’t think it could have actually exploded,” Avery said, starting to laugh. “I mean, it definitely FELT like it was gonna, but I don’t think it’s possible for that to really happen.”
“Still, you could have hurt yourself,” Lydia said. “Try to go more often, okay? I know you get scared in public, but if anyone ever tries to hurt you, I’ll beat them over the head with a hockey stick.”
Avery felt better. Even after all that, Lydia hadn’t teased him. She’d expressed nothing but concern. Maybe he could trust Lydia better than he could most people. |
Avery felt like his bladder was twisting up on itself like a cheap balloon animal. He felt like an over-inflated beach ball was pushing against the interior of his skin. He felt like there was so much excess liquid in his body that even his bones were beginning to fill up with it.
Avery needed a urinal in the worst way.
The reason for his predicament was rather simple; He’d failed to have his morning piss. It wasn’t for lack of trying, however. Avery always drank a glass of water before bed because it helped him sleep, but it also meant he’d be bursting by the time he woke up. Just as he did every morning, he scurried from his bedroom and down the hall to the toilet, dying to flood it. But, this morning something was different; There was a note on the door to the restroom from Avery’s uncle. It explained that there was an issue with the plumbing in Avery’s apartment building, and until someone came and fixed it, Avery was not supposed to use the toilet.
Avery whimpered as he read the note, shifting from foot to foot. His Uncle Brad came down the hall then, and Avery noticed he was a little squirmy himself. “Can’t I go if I just don’t flush?” were the first words out of Avery’s mouth.
Uncle Brad watched his pee-dancing nephew for a moment, obviously wanting to tell him ‘yes’. “They said not to,” he said. “The people who own the building, I mean…”
Avery cringed, stomping his feet hard into the floor. His bladder was very used to being drained within minutes of him being awake, this prolonged period of holding seemed to have confused it. It felt like his bladder was being held beneath a running faucet, it was expanding and growing heavier and heavier with fluid by the second. He didn’t want to get his uncle into trouble, however. His uncle had done so much for him since he’d taken him in. The last thing Avery would ever want to do is cause him problems. Still… “I really, really have to go,” Avery said, though that was rather obvious from the way he was twisting at the hips and shuffling in place.
“I know,” Uncle Brad replied. “I do too, believe me, this was not what I wanted to wake up to today. I’ll go when I get to work, you can go when you get to school.”
Avery grimaced at that. The ride to school was going to feel very, very long with such a full bladder. He was trying to think of somewhere he could stop off at between the apartment building and the subway that would be open and have a toilet he could use without buying anything. Frustratingly, he couldn’t think of anything, the closest McDonald’s or Starbucks from here were both in the opposite direction the subway station. He’d risk being late to school trying to get to one of them. Still, he nodded at his uncle, not thinking he had any other choice.
The walk down to the subway was awfully painful, and as he took the stairs down into it, each step made his bladder pinch. Every time his heels hit the ground, he would feel his sphincters flex and flutter, trying their hardest to keep the flood where it belonged. He glanced at his immediate surroundings for a bit, hoping the station would have a restroom he could use, but he didn’t see a sign for one anywhere and when the train arrived he knew he didn’t have the time to keep looking.
He boarded the train and took a seat, one hand digging its nails into the top of his knee when his waistband compressed his bladder. When the train became to move quickly and bumpily down the track, he ground his teeth together and tried to remind himself that, even if the jostling beneath his feet was making it harder for him to hold on, the train was at least speedily taking him in the direction of much needed relief.
The ride to school felt about two hours longer than usual. Avery’s legs kept crossing beneath him as he hoped that everyone else onboard was too tired in the early morning hours to notice his needy fidgeting and figure out what it meant. When the doors slid open at his stop, Avery stood up much too quickly and felt a spurt of urine glide smoothly into his boxers. He pressed his thighs together tight as he hurried off the train, his dribbly leak continuing down his legs with each step. ‘Almost there,’ Avery thought. ‘Almost there…’ He’d absolutely NEVER been this eager to get to school before in his life. Just the thought of bursting through the door of one of the men’s rooms, planting himself in front of the nearest urinal and letting it all go made him—
Lose yet another jet of pee into his clothes. He doubled over slightly, hands kneading themselves between his legs as he tried to cut off his flow. ‘Hold it…’ he begged his body as he took slow, hunched over steps towards the staircase.
The staircase.
That thing was sure to be the death of him.
The instant he raised one of his feet to put it on the first step, he was leaking up a storm. His legs snapped back together and he jiggled on the spot trying once more to clamp himself back shut. He managed it after a moment, but when he tried the stairs again, the same thing happened once more. If he parted his legs too far, he peed.
He took a deep breath and made himself run up the stairs, trying to minimize the damage to his jeans. He felt himself going more and more the higher up the staircase he got and by the time he was finally outside, he could barely get himself to stop. His legs squeezed firmly against one another, then began to coil together. He was nearly folded in half on top of himself as he forced himself to walk the final block to school. Along the way, quite a few alleyways looked amazingly tempting. They looked like Heaven. He practically salivated as he passed each one, his bladder slamming around inside his middle, throwing a tantrum and begging him to take it THERE and let it empty out!
But, he couldn’t. Not when it was so bright outside. He could be seen. He was to the point that he honestly didn’t care if someone watched him pee; If it meant his bladder could be empty, he’d give a free show to whoever wanted one. But, he did care if a COP watched him pee. He did care if he got into trouble, if he had to call his uncle and tell him he’d been picked up for public urination and needed help with the fine.
Avery had to hold it. He just had to. He trudged on. Luckily, he hadn’t lost any more spurts since he’d left the subway station, the majority of his urine was still where it belonged. When he passed through the gates of the school, his bladder began to loosen itself. There was a men’s room right after the entrance hall, right there on the left, less than a minute away now. Less than a minute, and he’d be peeing. Less than a minute, and he’d have relief.
He entered the school at last and hobbled through the entrance hall, he was about to push open the door to the hallway that contained the restroom, that contained freedom, when he felt his arm being grabbed. He jumped, startled at the sudden contact, and allowed a squirt of pee to leak past his defenses. He turned to see one of his teachers, Ms. Johnson. “Avery,” she said. “Could I talk to you for a moment.”
‘No,’ Avery thought. ‘You can’t talk to me for a moment. I don’t HAVE a moment. In a moment, this whole building’s gonna be flooded after I’ve exploded unless you let me use a toilet right freaking now!’ He thought all of that, but that wasn’t what he said. Instead, what Avery said was “Okay.” Even though he was the absolute furthest thing from ‘okay’ that could possibly exist. Even though he felt like his body was a ticking time bomb that would burst at any second. Even though he had to pee so badly and had already started having an accident.
Because, when a teacher asked to talk for a moment, that usually meant something was wrong, that usually meant Avery was in trouble for something. And, even if he wasn’t in trouble, his teacher may need something, and letting people down, causing them the slightest hint of inconvenience, made Avery’s stomach flip and do cartwheels through his body.
So, even if it felt like Avery’s very life depended upon getting himself in front of a urinal within the next fifteen seconds, he still said “Okay.”
Ms. Johnson led him from the entrance hall and into one of the other hallways; One that didn’t contain a restroom. Avery wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for that or not. If there had been a restroom, maybe he could have worked up the nerve to tell her that he really, REALLY had to use it before he did anything else… But, he doubted it. In all likelihood, if there were a restroom in this hallway he would have just stared at it longingly, his mouth welded shut as he fought to remember how to talk, and if his luck was really bad he’d hear a toilet flush from inside of it and that would all be too much and he’d pee all down his legs in an instant.
Ms. Johnson took Avery into her classroom. She sat behind her desk and pulled out the last thing Avery had written for an assignment. Avery squirmed his hips and bent double at the waist as he stood halfway between the doorway and the desk, his legs not wanting to try to carry his bloated body any further. He was trying not to contort himself too ridiculously, but that was a lost cause. His legs were trying to twist themselves into new shapes that were so complex they didn’t even have names. The word ‘pretzel’ could not have even done justice to the current agonized tangle Avery had managed to turn himself into.
“Don’t be nervous,” Ms. Johnson said as she looked at him.
Avery couldn’t not be nervous. His teacher wanted to talk with him, and he had about five seconds before he peed all over everything in a twenty mile radius. At least she didn’t seem to think his squirming and bouncing were because he was trying not to wet his pants, it was a little less embarrassing that way.
“You’re not in any trouble,” Ms. Johnson said. “I just wanted to let you know, the personal essay you turned in last week brought me to tears.”
Avery was shaking from more than just an absolutely frantic need to void his poor, over-taxed bladder. He’d thought the essay he wrote was garbage, but he didn’t think it was THAT bad. “S—Sorry,” he squeaked out, struggling to form words past the insurmountable weight of his shyness and the ridiculously heavy boulder that was his bladder.
“Don’t be,” Ms. Johnson said. “The emotion you conveyed here was… stunning,” she said. “You really made me feel everything that you felt.”
“W—Wait, you mean it was good?” Avery asked. Avery had rarely been told anything about him was good, his uncle and Lydia were the only two people who seemed to place Avery above ‘Blood Sucking Tics’ in their lists ranking things that existed. He wished that he didn’t have to pee so badly now, he would have enjoyed the opportunity to have an actual discussion with Ms. Johnson about his essay.
She did try to talk to him about it, but Avery just needed a urinal so much that it was hard to respond. The emotions the discussion brought up for Avery were also making it a lot harder for him to hold it. The essay was basically his life story, about how his parents had sent him to conversion therapy and then disowned him when he failed to change afterwards. How he’d lost everything, his parents, his home, his pet dog, all at once. How he’d left the only place he ever knew when he was taken in by his uncle, coming to a brand new city that was completely different in every way from anything about the place he grew up.
When Ms. Johnson asked him about his parents, he started to leak. But, he was leaking from his eyes this time, and when he hitched out a sob, the walls of his poor bladder compressed inwards and he was leaking from there again, too. His legs tightened and he doubled over even further, pleading with his body to stop.
“It’s alright, Avery,” Ms. Johnson said. “If you have to cry, you can cry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Avery looked up at her, teary-eyed. He wasn’t okay. His parents were monsters, they didn’t deserve his love if they were going to withhold theirs from him for no good reason, but knowing that didn’t make him stop loving them. Knowing that didn’t make him stop WANTING their love. He wished he just didn’t have to want it. He wished he could just be okay without his parents caring about him. How could he want affection from people that were so terrible? How could he lose hours of sleep over people that weren’t worth even a second of his time?
He wanted to say all that to Ms. Johnson, but when he opened his mouth, he felt an awful spasm rock through his bladder, making it squeeze and convulse with the most urgent, vicious pangs he’d ever felt in his life. Sheer need ricocheted through his entire body. His bladder was full of pee. His stomach was full of pee. His bones were full of pee. His brain was full of pee. He was nothing but pee, and if he didn’t go let it out his body was sure to collapse in on itself and turn into a huge puddle. “Nnnh—!”
“It’s alright,” Ms. Johnson said. She stood from her desk and came around to hug Avery. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. You’re a very sweet, compassionate young man and if someone can’t see that, then it’s their loss…”
This was exactly what Avery needed to hear, but he was struggling to process it because he needed to hear the words “Would you like to use the restroom?” even more.
The bell began to ring as Ms. Johnson spoke soothingly to him. Avery was going to have to get to first period now. There was no time to pee beforehand. First period was over an hour long. Avery couldn’t wait that long. He’d have an accident. He was practically already having one now. He’d totally have one in first period. He’d absolutely soak himself. He’d soak himself right there in the classroom, in front of everyone.
“Class is starting,” Ms. Johnson said. “I wish we had more time.”
Avery wished he had more time too…
“If you ever need anything, I’m here for y—“
“A—A late pass,” Avery blurted out. “F—For first period. Please.” His voice was cracking and squeaking, it sounded higher than ever to his ears and that made him want to tear out his own vocal cords.
“You need a minute t—“
“I want to use the restroom,” Avery said. God. That was an understatement. He didn’t just want the restroom, he was starting to think he’d cut off an arm for it! “The plumbing’s out at my apartment, I haven’t gone since last night.”
Ms. Johnson looked at him for a moment, then hurried to her desk and scribbled down a note as fast as she could. “Please, say something sooner next time,” she said as she handed him the note.
Avery could tell she felt bad for unwittingly keeping him from a badly needed toilet break, but he didn’t have time to apologize now. He just took the note in one trembling hand and moved from the room as fast as he could manage to. His brain was turning to static now, alarm bells ringing through it, red flashing sirens erupting all over his mind. ‘GOTTA PEE! GOTTA PEE! NOW! NOW!’
He didn’t try to get to the closest restrooms, now that other students were headed to class in order to get to those he’d have to try and fight through the crowds in the opposite direction. The easiest restroom to get to was a slightly longer walk, but he hoped he could hold on long enough. He limped to the end of the hallway and turned left. He felt tears bubbling up in the corners of his eyes again and he didn’t know if they were from remembering his parents or from the pain of still having to hold an entire night’s worth of urine after all this time. Halfway down this hallway, he was already unbuttoning his pants. He turned right, and scrambled at his zipper, noisily tugging it down as he made one final turn and was finally, finally in the restroom.
He could barely believe for a second that he was here at last. The room was totally quiet, he was the only person in it. His hand dove down into his opened jeans while he hurried to a urinal. He freed his prosthetic and aimed it. He’d been restraining himself for so long that it took several seconds for his body to recognize that it could actually unclench. Those last few seconds were the most painful for Avery. He was there! He was a urinal, his zip was down, his prosthetic was cupped beneath him and aimed, he was finally allowed to pee! He was almost salivating with the anticipation of the relief, but his bladder remained stubborn for ten more long, painful seconds.
Then, droplets started to fall against porcelain. One, two, three… Then, a nice steady flow. A wonderful, intense trickle of long-held urine finally splashing away, finally hissing and gushing and spraying… Avery felt air gurgle through his bladder like a water cooler, and he sighed and panted, eyes blurring and becoming unfocused as his jaw went slack. This feeling almost made all the strain leading up to it worth it. Pee just kept pouring out of him, he felt a chill run up his spine and he shivered. Curiously, as his body shook, the relief inside of him seemed to intensify.
He began to grow shocked at the quantity of liquid he was letting out. He hadn’t even known he could hold this much. He certainly couldn’t remember ever peeing out THIS much all at once before, and it just kept coming, and it kept feeling better. The feeling of his bladder shrinking and crumpling back into its proper size was almost making him delirious. How could something so agonizing turn into something so amazing in just a matter of seconds?
Twice, he’d thought he was finally finished, only for his bladder to convulse yet again and shoot out another long spurt of urine. Once he was certain he was finally finished, he leaned forward to shake out the last drops and zipped himself back up again. “Phew…” he groaned. He stood there in a daze for a moment, then dizzily stumbled for the sinks to wash his hands. He felt genuinely lightheaded after all that.
After his hands were clean, he checked his pants. There wasn’t too much damage, thankfully. Still he grabbed a paper towel and tried to dab away the wet spot that had formed on the inside of one of his thighs.
Avery’s bladder acted up a little throughout the day, he supposed after being brought to the absolute limit like that, it was in no mood to hold it for very long. He found himself needing to go between every single class, which didn’t normally happen. Some days, he didn’t have to go at school at all, and most days he could get away with only going at lunch. Today, though, he was eagerly heading for the closest restroom every time a class let out.
He had one last pee before leaving school for the day, worried that the issue at his apartment building still wouldn’t be fixed by the time he got home. It was though, thank goodness. Avery sure hoped that never happened again. When his uncle got home from work a couple hours later, Avery was asked if he’d made it to school alright. Avery blushed and admitted how close he’d come to an accident, and Uncle Brad agreed that he’d only barely made it as well. “You know, the floor my office is on doesn’t have a restroom?” he asked. “I had to get in the elevator, make it to my floor, clock in, tell my boss where I was headed, go back to the elevator, and wait for it to bring me to another floor.”
Avery laughed, “That sounds awful!”
“It was,” Uncle Brad chuckled. “Everything’s fixed up here now, right?”
“Yeah,” Avery said.
“So sorry about that,” Uncle Brad said. “I know you were miserable.”
Avery shrugged, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” He felt a little warmer now. His parents had never apologized to him, not even for things that were obviously their fault. Uncle Brad said he was sorry when Avery was upset, even if he’d done nothing to cause it.
“I think we’ve earned a pizza after today,” Uncle Brad said. “You want one?”
Avery nodded. He felt even warmer. Uncle Brad tried to make Avery feel better when he had a bad day. His parents had never done that, either. “Thanks.”
“And, you’re feeling okay?” Uncle Brad asked. “After… Uh…”
“I’m kinda sore,” Avery said. “But, I think it will go away.” Uncle Brad checked if Avery was hurt or feeling sick after something unpleasant happened to him. His parents had never once asked such a question.
Avery’s family may have been smaller now, but the people who mattered were still a part of it. |
This one is potentially pretty upsetting. Warning for transphobia, abuse, trauma and conversion therapy. I try to balance the darker tone of this chapter with a little bit of humor, but be aware it does contain some heavier topics.
***
Avery wet the bed sometimes. But, he didn’t want to call himself a bedwetter. Well. Duh. No one would want to call themselves that. But, in Avery’s case he didn’t think he DID it often enough to be considered a bedwetter, anyway. Just, once every couple months. Very, very rarely. His ‘problem’, if one could even call it that, was not severe enough for him to need to put special covers on his bed, or use an alarm, or— God forbid— WEAR… ‘protection’ while he slept. Just, every so often, he would wake up and feel that clammy, gross, sticky feeling between his legs, and he’d know he’d have to get his sheets washed.
And, it wasn’t that he had any sort of issue with his bladder. Most of the time, if he filled up in the night, it would nudge him awake and he could sleepily stumble down the hall to take care of it. No worries. He did drink water before bed since it helped him get to sleep, but that didn’t make him any more or less likely to have an accident at night. Because, it wasn’t a matter of not being able to hold it, not realizing he was dreaming before unzipping at a urinal, or any of the usual reasons someone might wet the bed.
In fact, when he peed himself in his sleep, he was usually fully aware that he was dreaming. The problem was he’d be trapped in that dream, unable to wake himself from it. And, he really, really wanted to wake himself from it. Not just to save his sheets from getting damp, either.
When Avery wet the bed, it was always because of the same dream. Well, memory, really. His brain would force him to live through a replay of one of the worst things that had ever happened to him in his life, and try as he might, he could not will himself awake until after the scene had finally concluded. The thing was, he always KNEW he was asleep. He knew the event was over. He knew that he was stuck in a dream. But, he couldn’t get his body to cooperate and let him escape it. And then he’d wake up drenched.
There was something to be said about going to therapy and leaving it feeling worse than you ever had before. But, where Avery went wasn’t really ‘therapy’. It was just ‘therapy’ in name only. The place he was sent to by his parents after he’d come out was not therapy. It was torture. He’d had to live there, with no idea how much time was passing and no clue what part of the globe he was even on until his uncle got him out. He’d been in there for six months, and he’d been in an entirely different country which had entirely different laws.
That was why no one at that place could be punished for what they’d done to Avery. Because, where they’d done it, it was perfectly legal to try and ‘cure’ a person like Avery using those methods. Avery hadn’t been ‘fixed’ of course, he hadn’t been broken before he’d gone there. He was broken now though, just not in the way they said he was.
He had nightmares about it often, the sparking pain and convulsions would feel so real even in his imagination. The nightmares were play-by-plays of what he’d been through, he’d smell all the same smells, see all the same sights, feel all the same feelings, but all with the awareness that it wasn’t REAL anymore. Sometimes, and this was very strange, but sometimes the nightmares would come even when he wasn’t asleep. They weren’t the same as the ones he had while asleep, only lasting a few split seconds, during which his mind’s eye would be filled with a scene from his past and his heart would pound out of control. He didn’t know why that happened. He’d had nightmares while sleeping before he went to that place, but he’d never had one while awake before.
Multiple times, when those people had done those things to him, the pain Avery felt would be so extreme and all-consuming, that he’d lose control of his bodily functions. He’d foam at the mouth with drool, his eyes would bulge-out of his head, he’d scream and bite into his own lips, and he’d pee all over himself.
When he dreamed of this, when he dreamed of peeing himself, he’d go for real.
That was the only reason Avery wet the bed.
He’d wake up, his breath hitching and his heart thrumming, realize he was soaked, and begin to cry. Uncle Brad always heard him crying. Uncle Brad didn’t care that it had woken him up. Uncle Brad would just hold Avery and tell him it was okay, he wasn’t mad that he’d had an accident, he wasn’t mad that he’d cried in the night, he understood. It would take Avery so long to settle himself back down again. Sometimes Uncle Brad would have him skip school the next day following one of these episodes. Which was good, because Avery was never in any shape to attend class after such an awful night.
Lydia had invited Avery to spend the night with her while her parents and younger sister were out, and Avery had enthusiastically agreed. It had been a long time since he’d had a bad dream, and he’d started to think maybe they were over now. The past was in the past, and it was going to stay put now like it was supposed to.
Lydia’s apartment was really big and fancy. Avery had never been anywhere so upscale before. Lydia’s father was a famous talkshow host, so he guessed it made sense they’d live somewhere super ritzy, but Avery felt a little out of place. The floors were a gleaming white and even with his shoes off, he was scared he’d scuff them up. He was too nervous to lean against anything, thinking he’d somehow knock something over and find out he owed Lydia’s family millions of dollars to have it replaced, or something.
When he needed to pee later on, he felt awkward asking where the bathroom was. This was the kind of place he didn’t think he should ever mention urination in. Lydia noticed when he started getting fidgety though and showed him the restroom right away. He’d half-expected the toilet to be made of solid gold, but it wasn’t. It WAS weird though. It had a bunch of buttons on the side and he had no idea what any of them did. He thought it best not to press on them, thinking that he could cause it to self-destruct if he made a mistake.
But, when he tried to lift the lid so he could actually use it for its intended purpose, it wouldn’t come up. Piecing together that fancy, rich people toilets apparently locked when not in use and that one of the buttons must be to raise the lid up, he examined them more closely trying to figure out which one he needed to press. None of the symbols made sense to him though, and he was starting to get a little too desperate to concentrate.
The shower was right there though, and easy to get into…
No. That was a bad idea. Fancy, rich people showers could probably detect urine or something. Peeing there would be very, very rude. Not when he could just ASK Lydia which button he had to push… Yeah. He could do that.
Except, when he came back out and Lydia asked if he felt better now, he just couldn’t manage to admit to her that he hadn’t been able to figure out how to use the toilet. So, instead of saying “I couldn’t get the lid up. Please show me how?” he said “Yeah, I feel much better!”
But, he didn’t feel better at all. His bladder was throbbing urgently and angry at him for leading Lydia to believe it was freshly emptied. His bladder didn’t understand that asking a cute girl for help pissing in her fancy, rich people home was even less appealing to Avery than eating his own toe-nails. His bladder just understood that it was getting very full and needed to be drained out.
So, Avery just continued holding it. When Lydia put on a movie and they settled in to watch it together, Avery’s toes began to tap against the cold, polished flooring. He could barely concentrate on the plot at all— something about some underdog hockey player bringing his team to the Stanley Cup Finals, or… something. Hockey was the Stanley Cup, right? Or was that baseball? He couldn’t remember. He had to pee too badly to remember.
When the movie showed a shot of Madison Square Garden, he did remember something though. Namely, he remembered going there to see a game with Lydia once. He remembered downing a big, huge soda right at the start and needing to pee like crazy through the entire first period. He remembered wanting to leave his seat and go find a restroom, but not wanting to make Lydia think he wasn’t having a good time. He remembered getting so desperate to go that he finally told Lydia that he’d be right back, only to feel so intimidated by having to force his way past all the people next to him in their row that he just gave up and resigned himself to holding it. He remembered springing up as soon as there was a break, rushing to the closest bathroom as fast as he could, and finding himself dancing madly at the end of a very long line. He remembered how sweet it was to finally find himself standing in front of a toilet, letting it all flow out…
His bladder convulsed, and he wished he hadn’t just remembered all of that… ‘Tell Lydia you need help,’ a little voice whispered in his head. He knew he was going to have to do that eventually. No way could he hold this in all night. He’d burst. And unless he wanted to wet his pants in front of Lydia, or risk having her catch him watering the Hell out of a potted plant, he really should just ask her what the deal was with that weird toilet.
After the movie, he decided. It couldn’t be that much longer, could it?
There was only about half an hour left, but it felt more like half a year to Avery’s ailing bladder. It was thrashing all over the place in his center, squeezing and pressing forcefully into his sphincters, incredibly angry with him for ignoring it for so long. His legs were twisting together of their own volition, and he was bouncing rapidly in his seat.
When the end credits finally rolled, Lydia turned to him and noticed right away that he wasn’t doing well. “Avery? What’s the matter? Are you feeling okay?”
“I need to take a leak,” Avery said.
Lydia looked down at his knotted up legs. “I would have paused it for you, you kno—“
“How do you get the lid open on that toilet?” Avery interrupted, fingers curling into his jiggling knees.
Lydia’s eyes were still transfixed on Avery’s squirming, writhing legs, his pink lip caught between his teeth. There was something altogether fascinating about how he was moving. Kind of like watching an oncoming train-wreck… Once she’d processed his question, she realized that it meant he HADN’T gone earlier like she’d thought. He’d been holding it all this time? “Why didn’t you ask me earli—“
Avery stood, “It’s embarrassing,” he said. But, now that he was doubling over, doing a very elaborate and obvious pee-dance, he realized that there were definitely some things more embarrassing than asking someone for toilet operating instructions.
Lydia led him to the restroom once more. She pointed to one of the buttons on the toilet, “It’s this one,” she said, pressing it.
There was a soft, clicking noise and the lid raised itself. He stared at the now open bowl. So close. He almost lost it right then.
“Yeah, I don’t get the point either,” Lydia said. “It’s called a ‘smart toilet’ apparently, but I don’t get what’s so smart about a toilet that’s gonna be locked if the power ever goes out. You know if you sit on it it measures your body temperature? How creepy is tha—“
“Lydia! Lydia!” Avery interrupted, ordinarily he’d be all for hearing about the weird products Lydia’s mother chose to waste money on, but if he didn’t make use of that specific weird product within the next thirty seconds, they were going to need a mop. “A little privacy please?”
Lydia remembered what they’d come in here for and sheepishly left the room. “Sorry…” she said.
Avery quickly shut the door and yanked down his zipper, getting into position as fast as he could. A clear stream of liquid jetted from the tip of his STP and trickled loudly into the toilet. Avery gasped and tried to catch his breath. Before he could really take in the sensations of relief firing through his nerves, there was a strange noise, like the sound his phone made when he got a notification. And then; “Hydration level is high.”
The toilet spoke.
It fucking spoke.
It fucking spoke and informed Avery that he was well hydrated— A fact of which Avery had been VERY much aware for the past couple hours.
He definitely hadn’t been expecting that and it made him jump a little, messing up his aim for a second. Avery didn’t usually get pee-shy, especially around something that wasn’t even alive, but having that weird computerized voice comment on his stream like that did make him feel a little uncomfortable and he had to squeeze down on his muscles to keep himself pissing at a steady rate.
After several seconds of silence, Avery finally gave an overdue sigh of relief. “Ahhhh…” He did feel a lot better, even if the toilet was seriously creeping him out. He finally finished up a few seconds later, his stream dwindling away. As he shook out his STP he noticed his midsection still felt a little sore and that he had pushed himself a little too far tonight just to avoid a little embarrassment…
The toilet made that weird chiming noise again and then the voice returned; “115 seconds.”
Avery had no idea what that meant at first, then felt himself turning crimson when he realized that must have been the amount of time he’d just spent urinating… Wow. Almost two minutes. He HAD needed that…
When he returned to Lydia, before she had a chance to ask him if he felt better now, he stated “It talks.”
“…Yeah,” Lydia said. “Maybe I should have warned you… I think the sensors in it are supposed to, like, check if you’ve got bladder infections and stuff. The noises it makes will really startle you awake if it’s the middle of the night.”
They watched another movie, one which Avery was able to pay much more attention to now that he wasn’t waging a war with his bladder. Then, it was time for bed. Avery entered the restroom again to change his clothes and have one last pee before sleeping. This one was nowhere near as dire as the one from earlier, and the freaky toilet informed him he’d only gone for “29 seconds”.
Avery reached for his bag and took out his pajamas. He looked at them for a second, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. He had to take his shirt off. He flicked off the light in the room, which helped a little. But the silly ‘smart’ toilet had those glowing lights stuck to it so it wasn’t dark enough. Avery squeezed his eyes shut too, then quickly tugged his shirt off and over his head.
He spread his arms out and away from his torso, not wanting to feel his binder or anything beneath it. Blindly, he groped for his pajama top and pulled it on. Only then did he open his eyes back up. He smiled when he realized he hadn’t accidentally put the shirt on backwards this time. No need to go through that again.
It was easier to change his pants. Ever since he’d gotten his prosthetic, pulling his pants down and seeing what he looked like in just his boxers hadn’t bothered him so much. There was something there, right where it was supposed to be.
He left the restroom and headed for Lydia’s bedroom where he spread out his sleeping bag. Lydia looked down at him and frowned. “Um… Do you usually wear that chest thingy to bed? Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
Avery felt his ears heating up. He was certainly not supposed to wear his binder to sleep. Uncle Brad would be upset if he found out. It was unhealthy to wear it for too long, and if Avery turned around wrong in his sleep he could end up hurting himself. “Well… I… It’s…”
“I mean, you can wear it if you want to, I just thought it was, like, bad to sleep in it.”
“I just… I guess I wouldn’t usually wear it to sleep, but I don’t want you to see me as anything other than a guy.”
“But, I DON’T see you as anything other than a guy,” Lydia said. “Here, I’ll even take my contacts out. You’ll be so blurry I won’t even be able to see you anyways. Would that help?”
“You don’t have to—“
“Not like I’m going to need them when I’m asleep” Lydia said, removing them. “So, it’s okay. You’re just a big, blurry blob now, but you’re definitely a manly blob!”
“Heh,” Avery smiled, then gently reached a hand underneath his shirt to tug down the zipper at the front of his binder. He hated the feeling that followed then. The… Awareness of what was there… He quickly laid himself down flat on his stomach.
He was really supposed to take the STP off before sleeping too. Just to give his skin some time to breathe. But, with the binder he just needed to get the zipper apart. He could still leave it under his shirt without Lydia seeing it. Taking off the prosthetic was different. At home he kept it in a drawer in his nightstand while he slept, he didn’t know where he’d leave it here. If asking Lydia how to work the toilet was embarrassing, asking her where he could store his dick for the night was just… Not happening.
One night wouldn’t hurt, he decided. He’d forgotten to take it off before bed a few times already. It felt so much like a part of his body that removing it just didn’t enter his mind some nights. The worst thing that ever happened was he’d be a little itchy the next day. He could live with that.
“Goodnight, Avery,” Lydia said.
“Goodnight, Lydia.”
Avery had been worried he’d have a hard time sleeping here. He’d never been close enough to anybody to spend the night at their home before. He’d been worried the floor would be uncomfortable, but his sleeping bag was thick enough that it was okay and before long he’d drifted off.
When Avery next opened his eyes, he knew he was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming because he was back in that place again, and he knew he’d left it a long time ago. ‘No,’ he thought. ‘Wake up!’ He tried to pinch himself to jolt his body back awake, but just like all the times before, it didn’t work.
The fake ‘doctors’ took Avery to the dungeon. It wasn’t actually a dungeon of course, it was just a room in the ‘treatment center’, but it was dark and musty and everything that took place within it was painful. So, ‘dungeon’ was the only word to describe it.
The events played out exactly as they had all those times he’d really lived them. Avery kept thinking ‘Wake up, this isn’t real!’ but, it still FELT real and he COULDN’T wake up. Just like when he’d been here in real life, he was trapped. Only now his jailers weren’t the sick ‘doctors’, he was imprisoned by his own cruel brain.
As the pain erupted, as clear and visceral as it had been in the waking world, Avery felt a trickle between his legs.
Then, his eyes opened for real. He was awake, finally. He was safe and sound in his sleeping bag in Lydia’s room.
And he was peeing.
He was peeing a violent, noisy, hissing gush into his sleeping bag. “N—No!” he whispered sharply, squeezing his thighs together and clenching his muscles with all his strength. “Please, no. Please, not here. Please!” His heart, which had been beating out of control from the second he’d woken up, started to pound even louder in his ears. It was no use, he couldn’t cut off his flow. His bladder was bound and determined to finish emptying itself right into his clothes.
Then, the worst thing happened. Lydia sat up in bed. “Avery?” she asked. “Are you oka—“
Avery couldn’t speak, all he could do was choke out a sob.
“Avery?” Lydia said, climbing out of bed and crouching beside him. “What’s the— What’s that noise?”
Avery still hadn’t finished peeing. The noise was his urine still spraying out into the material of his sleeping bag. He sobbed again miserably, causing his bladder to void itself even more strongly. This was officially the worst night of his entire existence.
Lydia then noticed the acrid smell in the air. “You… You’re a bedwetter?” she asked bluntly, realizing a second too late that that was entirely the wrong thing to say.
Avery gasped out one more sob, “N—No,” he said through his tears. “Not— This— Doesn’t—“
“Avery, it’s okay if you wet the bed,” Lydia said. “You should have said—“
“I don’t!” Avery snapped.
Lydia jumped, “I’m sor—“
“I never did this before!” Avery said. “Not even when I was a toddler! I never had this happen!”
Lydia was a little confused. She assumed this must have been the first time Avery had ever done this. She felt awful then, to suddenly pee in his sleep for the first time in his life when spending the night away from home… How awful!
“And then, they sent me to that stupid thing,” Avery said. “And the dreams keep coming, and then I—“
“You were having a nightmare?” Lydia asked. “Is that why this happened?”
Avery nodded miserably. “When I was at that conversion thing my parents sent me to,” he explained. “They did all these nonsensical procedures that were basically just torture. And, sometimes when they did those things to me, I would… You know, I’d… Have an accident. Because it hurt so much, I just couldn’t control anything. And, now I have these dreams where it happens again, and when I dream about… losing it, I… go. I never had this problem before then. Never. It’s so unfair.”
“That’s… Really awful, Avery,” Lydia said. “I don’t know what to say… I wish that hadn’t happened to you, and I hope you stop having dreams like that someday.”
Avery shifted uncomfortably, he’d finally stopped peeing but now he was so wet and clammy…
“My Dad’s pajamas might be kinda big on you,” Lydia said. “But you can wear them for the rest of the night. “And I’ll get you a new blanket to sleep on. Just wait here.” She stood, reasoning that Avery would probably prefer to stay in his sleeping bag until he could get out of his wet clothes, he wouldn’t want her to see the dampness around his crotch.
After Avery was changed, he felt a little better, but he was still shaking like he always did after a nightmare. He needed to forget about it. “L—Lydia, I know it’s really late and I woke you up and stuff, but can we watch another movie? I’m not ready to go back to sleep again…”
“Yeah, we can do that,” Lydia said. “I’ll find something nice to help you feel better.” |
Lydia furiously tugged the door handle one final time, hoping that perhaps she could force the door to open itself back up again if she made use of her full strength. But, alas, even the legendary arm of her school’s top athlete was not enough to get that door to budge.
Unfortunate that neither of her parents were home and her sister Pauline was asleep.
She turned around to face her best friend; “Sorry, Avery,” she said. “Pauline will wake up from her nap soon, and she can let us out.”
Avery nodded to Lydia, trying not to fidget his legs too obviously. They’d come in here, the huge room in Lydia’s massive apartment that was used for storage, to search for an old recording of Lydia’s Father’s TV show. But, Lydia had neglected to mention that the knob for this room was on backwards and could be locked from the outside. Something had managed to trigger the lock, and here they were. Stuck for the foreseeable future.
Worse still, Avery had been needing the restroom since before they’d come in here, and the knowledge that he was now stuck with nowhere to relieve his bladder was making his urge worsen. He paced back and forth across the room several times, like a caged tiger. A caged tiger with unusually shaky legs, anyway. At one point, he paused and stared out the huge, floor-to-ceiling window at one side of the room, looking for something that could distract him from his Godawful need. He could see a portion of the park that was across from Lydia’s building, and tons of skyscrapers. Many times, he’d been stunned by the height and size of the skyscrapers, he’d never seen anything like them where he’d grown up, but now all he could think about was how many urinals and toilets must be inside of buildings that large.
He also couldn’t stop thinking about the alleyways between those buildings. That would be a fine place to have a piss, too. Or, somewhere in the park, even. There were restrooms in that park, and if he couldn’t find one, there were huge trees and tons of bushes everywhere. So many places to get relief in an emergency.
He needed to stop looking out the window. It wasn’t distracting him at all. It was only making it worse. His bladder kept lurching every time his mind supplied it with another place it could potentially empty if he weren’t trapped in here. He leaned against the wall, crossed one leg over the other, and started to shimmy his hips as he tried to think of something that didn’t involve peeing.
He thought about the fish he liked to study, but that only led into how lucky fish were to be able to just pee wherever they wanted. And how, if Avery were in the ocean right now, he wouldn’t have to hold it even one second more. He thought about pizza, but then he couldn’t stop thinking about how pizza restaurants had toilets. He thought about the last test he’d taken at school, but then he remembered that he’d been a tad desperate then as well, and he especially remembered how good it felt to finally get in front of a toilet afterwards.
“Is it an emergency?” Lydia asked suddenly.
Avery blushed, apparently his ‘subtle’ knee bouncing hadn’t been that subtle after all. “Kind of…” Avery admitted. “I’ve been holding it a while.”
“You should have gone before we came in here.”
“Well, I didn’t know I was gonna get trapped now, did I?”
Lydia flinched. “Sorry…”
“Can’t we try yelling for Pauline to wake her up?”
“We could, but she’s a real heavy sleeper. And she always has a white noise machine on during her naps,” Lydia said.
Avery decided to try it anyway. He pounded on the door as he shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other. “Pauline!?” he yelled. “Pauline! Come on! Wake up! Your sister and her friend need your help! Like, really, really bad!” He listened for a second, but didn’t hear any doors opening, nor the sound of feet.
He groaned, squeezed his thighs together, and went back to sit beside Lydia on the floor. For a while, Lydia tried to distract him from his urgency, but Avery had drank about five cans of soda that morning and hadn’t had a single pee since. Distraction just wasn’t happening anymore. “Lydia,” he raised a hand, interrupting one of her stories. “I’m sorry, but I kind of just have to focus on… On holding this right now. Okay?”
Lydia frowned. It was that bad? She started to look around the room. Perhaps, there was something in here he could use to alleviate his problem. She wondered if he was wearing that stand-to-pee thingy he had now. If he was wearing it, that certainly gave him a few more options as to where he could empty out. She just didn’t quite know how to ask him.
Avery was wearing his prosthetic, of course. He always did now, and was continually amazed by how much better it made him feel in his every day life. It wasn’t even just that he could use it to pee standing up, but also the fact that he could feel it there between his legs. The empty, vacant feeling that something was missing no longer bothered him. Whenever he took it off to wash it, or to give his skin time to air out at night, he felt incomplete.
He’d peed with it tons and tons of times by now, and every time had felt so incredible; the relief would fade quickly, but the euphoria of aiming his dick and peeing would always remain. He’d been able to use urinals finally, he no longer had to worry if the toilet seat was dirty, or if someone noticed that he was sitting down and tried to start something with him. He was amazed that piece of silicone could improve his life as much as it had.
It helped him out when he got caught short, too. He could go behind a bush, or down an alleyway, or into a bottle if the need arose. He’d done all those things now, and as ridiculous as it was, each new location he’d peed in had made him feel implausibly good. Validated, even.
He should maybe stop thinking about that right now, though. Using his prosthetic to pee was something he’d probably give his right arm to do right now. An odd habit he’d developed was that, if he found himself desperate to pee, he would actually start to hold himself. He’d grip the opening of the prosthetic and, even though he knew that doing so shouldn’t actually have any effect, some of his urgency would actually fade. Obviously, it was purely psychological, but it worked.
He did that now, he grasped his dick in one hand and some of the thrashing, pulsing misery in his bladder ebbed away. He just had to be careful not to hold himself too tight, he was scared to warp the material in some way. As he clutched, he sat with his legs crossed and fanned his knees up and down. He cursed himself for drinking so many sodas. They were all demanding release with an ever increasing urgency that he could not answer.
“Hey, um… Avery?” Lydia asked. “If there’s something here you can… ‘use’, would you—“
Avery’s eyes lit up. “Is there!?” he asked, unable to keep the eagerness from his voice. It barely registered to him that, if there was something here, he would have to relieve himself in front of Lydia. He’d just heard the words ‘something here you can use’ and his bladder had readily loosened itself in anticipation. He needed to go. He needed to go so bad. He needed to go so bad he’d be willing to do it anywhere. He needed a toilet, a urinal, a bowl, a cup, a vase, a whole bunch of ladles… ANYTHING. He didn’t care what it was, just so long as he could pee into it. Hell, he’d even pee on a Broadway stage if it meant his bladder would finally be empty!
Lydia looked away awkwardly, “So… You’d be comfortable with that, I guess?”
Avery nodded, he would be so comfortable with it. Anything that resulted in an empty bladder would make him more comfortable than Lydia could possibly imagine.
“Okay,” Lydia said. “I’ll try to find something for you, then. But, um…” she struggled. “Er… Just to make sure I find something that works; That… thing you wear so that you can—“
“I have it,” Avery interrupted, sitting up a little further and pressing a heel against himself.
“Alright,” Lydia said. That was good. That meant Avery had as many options in this situation as any other guy would. Lydia looked through the boxes stacked around the room. She found old stuffed animals, old photo albums, her Father’s stamp collections… None of which made good emergency toilets. She stumbled upon her old baby blanket, and then Pauline’s in one box, and knew she’d found the items from when she and her sister had been very little. Some of the items actually brought back memories from when she’d been a toddler, and tons of them reminded her of little Pauline. Like, the binky she used to suck on, the sippy cups she’d once used, and…
A small, plastic potty chair.
Well. That would do it.
Lydia picked up the item and brought it back towards Avery. “Found something!” she said.
Avery started to exhale, he was gonna be peeing in just a few seconds, thank God!
She set the chair down, “And, it’s been peed in lots of times already, so you don’t have to—“
“What is that?” Avery asked. He was beginning to second-guess his earlier decision of “I WILL PEE LITERALLY ANYWHERE SO LONG AS I CAN ACTUALLY PEE!” He could not pee in a plastic toddler’s potty in front of Lydia. He just couldn’t. It would be too embarrassing!
“It’s Pauline’s old toilet,” Lydia said, deliberately trying to avoid saying the word ‘potty’.
If Avery’s face turned any redder, he could have passed for a tomato. No. He would not do this. He couldn’t do this. It was too much. He was not so desperate that he would use a potty chair like a toddler. He was not so desperate that he would—
A long, long burst of liquid sprayed out of him, and his resolve broke. “Lydia…” he said hoarsely. “Please, stand at the other end of the room and just look out the window. Do not turn around until I say.”
“Of course,” Lydia said. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna watch you.” She rushed to the window, certain that Avery wanted to get started as fast as possible.
Avery hesitated one second more. He couldn’t believe he was gonna do this… But, when another spurt dampened his pants, he knew there was no other choice unless he fancied wetting himself in front of Lydia instead. ‘At least… At least I have my prosthetic,’ he told himself. ‘I don’t have to try to sit down on the thing.’
He got onto his knees and unzipped, aiming his prosthetic into the small opening. He thought that perhaps it was because he’d spent his whole life wishing he could pee standing up and then overthinking every last detail pertaining to it, but he definitely knew he had better aim than most cis guys did. He honestly didn’t understand how so many of them apparently ‘missed’ and spattered the rim of the toilet after doing it that way since elementary school, when he’d been able to work out the perfect place to aim that minimized splashback after only a month or so of being able to do it at all.
So, he was confident that his pee would go where he wanted it to. He spread his legs apart a little further so he wouldn’t accidentally squish the cup of the prosthetic and cause it to spill, then finally relaxed his bladder.
“Ahhhhhh… That’s beautiful…” Avery exhaled a sigh of extreme relief as pee trickled out to spatter against the plastic receptacle. He’d been concerned that liquid striking that material would be embarrassingly loud, but it wasn’t too big a problem after all. That was nice. He didn’t have to worry about Lydia listening to his release, he could just enjoy it. He could just go and go and—
What—
What was that sound?
As Avery’s stream continued to gush out, he started to hear music playing from somewhere. A weird, upbeat little jingle, like something from a radio advertisement. Where was it coming fro—
“Look at me,
Using the potty!
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty!
I’m a big kid!
Using the potty!
It’s potty time!”
Oh, dear God… Why? Avery’s body shuddered and he suddenly felt like his face was on fire. He tried to clench himself shut, to stop peeing and just hold the rest until later, but no matter how tightly he bore down on his pelvic muscles, his stream just kept coming.
“When I gotta go,
I stop what I’m doing,
I go to the potty,
And I use it now!”
Who thought this was a good idea!? Avery wondered. Surely, even to a three year old, this would be humiliating! And, why did this little ‘feature’ even still work after all this time stuck in storage? Shouldn’t the sensor have worn out? Shouldn’t whatever battery that powered it have corroded?
“Look at me,
Using the potty!
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty!
I’m a big kid!
Using the potty!
It’s potty time!”
The music faded, and Avery started to breathe again, started to get lost in his relief once more, gushing and gushing away… And then, that infernal song started right back up once more!
“Look at me,
Using the potty!
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty!
I’m a big kid!
Using the potty!
It’s potty time!”
Avery’s eyes flicked to the other side of the room. Lydia was facing out the window, but he could see her shoulders shaking and knew she was trying very, very hard not to laugh. Avery couldn’t even believe this level of embarrassment was possible. He was starting to think that outright wetting himself in front of Lydia would have been less humiliating than this.
“When I gotta go,
I stop what I’m doing,
I go to the potty,
And I use it now!”
Avery pushed down on his muscles as hard as he could, no longer caring if he overflowed his STP and made a mess of himself. He just wanted his bladder empty as fast as possible to make this end. He was shocked by how much pee was inside him, and started to become terrified that the potty chair had cursed him to pee forever and ever while it mocked him relentlessly.
“Look at me,
Using the potty!
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty!
I’m a big kid!
Using the potty!
It’s potty time!”
Avery just kept pouring, and he began to realize he was getting dangerously close to overflowing the plastic receptacle. Oh, please, not that too! He silently begged inside his mind. He felt close to finished. He hoped he’d manage it before the song entered its next loop.
“Look at me,
Using the potty!
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty!
I’m a big kid!
Using the potty!
It’s potty time!”
Of course, he could not be that lucky. By the time the verse wound down, he was finished and shook out his prosthetic. A few drops hit the seat, but he didn’t care. The accursed object deserved it.
“When I gotta go,
I stop what I’m doing,
I go to the potty,
And I use it now!”
He zipped himself up and just lay down on the floor and stared at the ceiling as the song continued to play on until it was over.
“Look at me,
Using the potty!
Twiddly-Dee
Using the potty!
I’m a big kid!
Using the potty!
It’s potty time!”
Avery no longer feared Hell, for he now knew that there existed something much worse.
Lydia turned around slightly. “Done?” she called.
Avery just groaned.
Lydia cupped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I’d forgotten it did that,” she said. “I’m surprised it even still works. It must use a pretty powerful battery.”
“Wow, I’m so glad they sprung for the expensive parts,” Avery said monotonously.
“You must feel at least a little better?” Lydia asked.
“I yearn for death,” Avery responded. “But, at least I don’t have to pee anymore.”
“There you go!” Lydia smiled. “That’s one thing to be happy about!”
A few minutes later, the door opened. Pauline was in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes. “I heard something,” she said. “Was that the potty I had when I was little?”
“We’ve been stuck here a while,” Lydia said. “Because the door has issues. Avery had a bit of an emergency.”
“Did he make it in time?” Pauline asked, and Avery wished there wasn’t so much genuine concern in her voice.
“Yeah,” Lydia said.
“Yay,” Pauline said. “I think the stickers I used to get for making it are in here too!” she said. “He needs one!”
“No,” Avery raised a hand. “I don’t. I really don’t.”
“But, you did a good job!” Pauline said.
“I promise, I don’t need a sticker…” |
Thanks! I'm super glad you're enjoying this!
***
‘Oh, for God’s sake…’ Avery thought as he hobbled down the sidewalk with his thighs scrunched together. ‘I live in one of the biggest cities in the world; Why the Hell can’t I find somewhere to pee?!’ He’d thought finding a public toilet in New York would have been the easiest thing in the world, but so far today that had NOT been the case, and it really ticked him off, honestly. The reason he’d gotten into this situation was rather aggravating as well.
He’d spent all morning at the aquarium, watching the fish float and drift and swim through their tanks. It had been so relaxing and calming, and the way the fish all stayed grouped together and never left anyone out for being different or strange was comforting. But, after several hours, three large drinks, and the continuous sight and sound of water, Avery needed a toilet. Bad.
Naturally, his next stop was the men’s room at the aquarium. Where he made the unpleasant discovery that the urinals were too high up for him to use. Avery was very small, urinals were installed at a height meant for an average cisgender male, and sometimes a little taller than that. So, occasionally, that happened; Avery would be too short to reach the urinal and pee into it without making a mess. It usually wasn’t a big, huge deal.
Except, it was today because the one stall was out of order.
He’d been disappointed, because with as uncomfortable and heavy as his bladder was, he knew that meant he had to leave and find somewhere else to pee. But, he’d been there for hours already, and he could always come back another time. He couldn’t put off peeing for too much longer, though.
Near the aquarium was an amusement park, which he knew would have at least one restroom somewhere. It wasn’t a long walk, but time just had a way of slowing down when he really, really needed the toilet. As people bustled around him, he felt an itching sensation beneath his skin. He felt so vulnerable whenever he was on his own in public. And being alone in public with an aching bladder just made him feel even more vulnerable. He pulled his black hat down to partially cover his face and the features he thought looked too soft. He hoped he could use the toilet at the park without having to spend any money; He’d used up all the cash he had at the aquarium already.
As he got to the entrance of the park, he was rehearsing what he was going to say. “Can I come in without paying? I’m not gonna do any rides or anything, I just need to use the restroom and I don’t have any money.” It turned out all his rehearsing was for nothing though, the park wasn’t open this time of year.
Would it be okay to go inside anyway? Just to pee really quick? Hopefully the toilets still functioned when the park was closed, Avery didn’t really know how plumbing worked and if it got shut off when a place wasn’t open… Maybe he could just sneak in, find the restroom, pee, and leave? No one would know?
But, then he saw what looked like a security camera. He imagined himself getting caught on camera breaking into the park. The police would come. And he didn’t know if they’d believe his claim that he just wanted to use the toilet…
He could just go home, he supposed. He knew he could hold it until then. He went to the subway station. He’d allowed himself the briefest hope that there would be a restroom in it, but there wasn’t. He boarded the train, his thighs pressed together as he took a seat. It started to move and Avery tugged at his bangs as a wicked pang tore through him. Every bump in the track made his muscles sting and ache. He huffed through his nose, trying to get a handle on the situation. He bounced his legs, twisted every which way, and accidentally kicked the person next to him.
The person looked down at him and grimaced, “Watch it,” he said gruffly.
“S—Sorry!!” Avery squeaked out. ‘Fix your voice!’ he mentally screamed at himself. He cleared his throat, which painfully vibrated the walls of his soon to be overflowing bladder. His nails began to scrape against his knees in agitation. “Just… In a hurry,” he said, lowering his voice as much as he could manage when his body was under so much strain. “I didn’t mean to.”
Avery tapped his foot impatiently. He knew he’d only just gotten on the train, but time had slowed so considerably for him that he felt like he’d been stuck riding on it for hours already.
His bladder was considerably swollen, firm and round between his hips. He tried not to think about how long it would take to reach his stop. He tried not to think about how, even once he was there, he’d still have a bit more walking to do to get to his apartment. He tried not to think of the way he’d have to wait for the elevator to reach his floor. How he’d have to walk TO the restroom, how he’d have to unzip… He especially tried not to think about how terribly good peeing was gonna feel…
There was another bump then that rattled Avery and made his bladder bounce up and down against his straining muscles. A very short spurt of pee shot out and he tightened his thighs to keep the rest of the burden from following suit. “Oooooh—!” he cried out in shock at the awful momentary loss of control. He cringed at the sound. It was so high, so squeaky. How could he have allowed that to come out of his mouth!? He felt his face flame and his heart began to pound as he feared someone had heard it.
He felt his pee sloshing with every turn in the track. At a couple stops, he considered bolting from his seat and trying to see if there was a restroom at the station, but he didn’t want to risk having to wait even LONGER if it turned out there wasn’t one. The guy beside him looked at him again at one point, after Avery had accidentally let another one of those awful squeaks fall from his lips. “Are you about to throw up or something?” the guy asked.
Avery felt his blush grow deeper. He pulled his hat down so that the brim covered his eyes. “I…” he straightened his throat, trying to deepen his nervous, shaky tone. “I’m… I’m not sick. I just really need a restroom,” he admitted, looking away and crossing his ankles. He didn’t know if he could possibly feel more embarrassed. He couldn’t believe he’d just told a total stranger he was bursting for a piss. He’d just really needed to explain all those stupid noises he couldn’t stop making.
“I think there’s one at the next station,” the guy said. “But, if I were you I’d just hold it, dude. Those things haven’t been cleaned since the day they were built.”
Avery was too dismayed by the news that the restrooms were basically unusable to be happy the guy had called him ‘dude’. “That sucks…” he said quietly. He hoped his voice sounded okay. He hoped it didn’t sound weird or forced or fake or anything like that. At least now that the guy knew he had to pee, he didn’t have to try and force himself to hide his need anymore. He allowed himself to jiggle in his seat, toes tapping with needy anxiety. He sat up a little straighter, trying to give his bladder more space, only to double over a few seconds later.
When they arrived at the next station, Avery considered getting up and trying to find the toilet the guy had told him should be nearby. Even if it DID turn out to be totally disgusting, Avery thought he could put up with a few minutes of revulsion if it meant he’d get to have an empty bladder. And at least it wasn’t like he had to worry about sitting down anymore.
Before he could make a decision, the doors were already closed and the train was moving once more. Now that his bladder knew it had been denied once again, it only seemed to want to empty more! He wished for the thousandth time that he was just a little taller! If he was taller, he could have just used one of the perfectly empty urinals at the aquarium and wouldn’t be IN this mess. He wouldn’t have to deal with his awful, straining weight in his abdomen right now. He could be nice and empty and comfortable. Why hadn’t the aquarium at least had one urinal that was a little lower to the ground. Surely people brought young kids there sometimes, what were THEY supposed to do?
Avery tugged at his bangs as a wicked pang tore through him. Every bump made his muscles sting and ache. He huffed through his nose, trying to get a handle on the situation. He bounced his legs, twisted every which way, and held on for dear life until finally the train had arrived at his station.
As slowly and carefully as he could manage, he raised himself from his seat and hobbled out the doors like a shaky legged newborn lamb. ‘I’m close,’ he thought. ‘I’m so close.’ Climbing the stairs to leave the station made Avery feel like some higher power was punishing him for whatever heinous deeds he’d committed during his past life. Limping the last few blocks to his building resulted in more than a few spurts of liquid making it to his boxers. He felt warmth and dampness building between his legs and his thighs began to chafe as they rubbed against the wet patch.
He arrived at his building at last, hurried to the elevator and jabbed the button for his floor. As the elevator began to ascend, Avery jumped up and down, hopping from foot to foot like the floor he was standing on was made of fire. The doors dinged open, and he made it the last few steps to his door. He reached into his pocket for his key…
Then he checked his other pocket.
Then his back pockets.
Then the pocket of his hoodie.
He didn’t have his key.
He felt his stomach sink. He felt it sink until it was resting right on top of his bladder and adding to the already insurmountable pressure within it. Leaning against the wall and twisting his legs into a very distressed pretzel, he took out his phone and texted his uncle.
FORGOT MY KEY
LOCKED OUT
REALLY NEED TO GET INSIDE
WILL YOU BE HOME SOON?
He waited for what felt like an hour but was really only thirty seconds, before he got a reply.
GONNA BE ABOUT AN HOUR
STILL HAVE TO PICK UP A FEW GROCERIES
SORRY
I’LL ORDER YOU A PIZZA WHEN I’M BACK TO MAKE UP FOR IT 🙂
Avery groaned and wedged a hand between his thighs as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. A pizza was not going to make up for pissing his pants in the hallway. Avery could not wait another hour. He absolutely couldn’t. It was physically impossible. His bladder was so god damned full it felt like any second he was going to turn the hall into a disgusting swimming pool with ‘water’ deep enough for diving. He couldn’t hold it another hour. He tried knocking on a few of his neighbors’ doors, intending to beg them for permission to use their restroom, but no one answered.
He had to find somewhere else to go.
Hopefully that would be simple.
Reluctantly, he returned to the elevator, and as he dragged his water-logged, shaking body through the lobby, he wished once more that there were restrooms in it. He shoved open the door with his shoulder, his hands now pressed against his thighs, trying to reinforce their efforts to keep his monsoon at bay.
All of that was why Avery was now limping down the sidewalk, wondering how in the Hell he could have such a hard time finding a public toilet in New York freaking City. He’d tried two places so far, both of which asked him to buy something first. Avery, of course, had no more money with him and so had been unable to use the facilities he was starting to feel like he’d KILL for.
The leaks had kept up, steady, trickling little bursts that came every few minutes and continued to take a more and more concentrated effort to clamp off. He was going to have an accident. He was basically HAVING an accident now already, just not to the extent he needed to be. Maybe he should have just stayed in the hallway to piss himself. At least in there there hadn’t been any witnesses. But, out here on the streets people were walking everywhere and the roads were packed full of cars. So many people to gawk at him as he flooded his pants and probably at least half the city, creating a catastrophic disaster the likes of which had never been seen before.
A few times, Avery had relieved himself onto walls outside. But, all those times it had been at night and he’d tucked himself in a deep, dark crevice between two buildings. And his uncle had been there to keep watch for him. But, now it was daylight, he couldn’t find an alleyway he felt confident would leave him enough privacy, and there was no one around to act as look-out. Someone could see, and he could get into terrible trouble.
He couldn’t go outside, and he couldn’t find any place where he could go inside either. But, it wasn’t as if he could just NOT go! He was coming apart at the seams, struggling more and more with each step, unable to stop dribbling away into his clothes. He was sure there was a damp spot on him now, he was sure it would be visible. Not that anyone who passed him by could have been under any illusions in regards to his current state. He was doubled over, walking cross-legged. Anyone with eyes would be able to tell that Avery needed a restroom in the worst way.
He needed somewhere to pee. He would sell his soul for somewhere to pee! He felt tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. He was so embarrassed, he was so frustrated, and above all he was in so much pain he could hardly stand it. He noticed the entrance to another subway station and considered venturing down there in hope of finding a toilet. Even if it was splattered with all manner of unpleasant filth, he wouldn’t care. All he’d care about was whether or not there was something he could piss into inside of it. He hobbled down the stairs, losing squirt after squirt every time his foot dropped down onto a new step.
There was a security guard near the turnstiles, and Avery limped up to him. “E—Excuse me,” he said softly, his voice was cracking and he hated the sound of it even more than he usually did. “I—Is there a restroom down here?”
The security guard shook his head, “Sorry,” he said.
And Avery wanted to cry. He almost begged the guard to come with him and be his lookout while he made a mad dash down an alleyway and hosed the living daylights out of a wall, but he doubted a law enforcement officer would want to aid him in committing a crime.
He checked his watch. Maybe it had been an hour. Maybe his uncle would be home now and he’d just have to try and make it back to his apartment. But, when he looked, it had only been about twenty minutes.
He was going to pee his pants.
At least the only people around him right now were strangers. He didn’t know what he’d do if someone he knew was here to see him explode. He didn’t know what he’d do if Lydia were—
Lydia!
New hope flowing through his veins and reinvigorating his exhausted muscles, Avery hurried to get onto a train. He just had to hope Lydia was at her apartment now. He just had to forget how embarrassing turning up at her door and immediately demanding the toilet was going to be. He just had to hold on until he got there.
It wasn’t a long ride to Lydia’s area of the city, but Avery kept losing drops along the way. When he managed to move his hands away from his crotch for a few seconds, he saw a large wet spot in between his legs, and a few more patches of dampness going down them. It was already obvious he’d lost control of his bladder today, but he would do anything to avoid a complete soaking.
Even humiliating himself by begging Lydia for a toilet.
As he dragged himself the last little way to Lydia’s building and flung himself into the elevator, he tried not to think of ways this could go wrong. He hit the button for her floor and tried not to worry that Lydia might not be home to save him. He tried not to worry that there could be an issue with her bathroom, that the toilet could be busted or the door could be stuck. He told himself that Lydia or some member of her family HAD to be home, and that their toilet HAD to be working.
The doors slid open and Avery was right at the door to Lydia’s apartment. He barely managed to move a hand from between his coiled legs to knock on the door. ‘Please be home, please be home, please be home…’
The door opened, and there was Lydia. “Hey, Avery,” she said. “Just so you know, my Mom’s home so be quie—“
“Please, please, please let me use your bathroom, please!?” Avery blurted out.
Lydia only seemed to realize then how distressed Avery’s appearance was. He noticed her staring at the wet stains present on his pant-legs and was shocked he didn’t have the strength or energy left to feel embarrassed about them.
“Of course you ca—“ Before Lydia could finish, Avery had rushed inside, muttering breathy “Thank you!”s under his breath.
Avery heard more pee hissing into his jeans as he made himself run to the restroom. The minute his shoe hit the floor past the threshold of that blessed room, he was peeing out the stream he’d been just barely restraining all day. It was coming out weak, but was threatening to build into an uncontrollably, hissing gush at any second. ‘No, no!’ he thought desperately. ‘Hold on!’
He didn’t have time to worry about the door. He barely had time to get his zip down and stand himself in front of the toilet that he needed as badly as he needed oxygen to breathe. He aimed his prosthetic, and fumbled with shaky hands to ensure it was positioned correctly. Thank goodness it was, the new harness he had for it did a good job of keeping it exactly where he needed it. Which was wonderful for moments like this where he didn’t have a second to lose repositioning it.
His muscles seemed to forget what their purpose even was when he was finally at the toilet, finally free to let it out. Pee erupted from him like he was a geyser, spraying viciously into the water in the toilet bowl. It took a few moments for his bleary mind to comprehend that this was finally happening. He was peeing. He was finally peeing. Once he registered that he’d done it, that he’d made it and that he was actually going after all this time, relief covered him like a soft, warm blanket and his body became engulfed in tingly shivers.
He’d forgotten about the weird ‘features’ Lydia’s toilet had and jumped a little when it chimed and informed him “Hydration level high”, but just a split second later he was melting away into the relief of it all once again.
“Ahhhhh… That’s so good…” Avery sighed. He leaned forward as far as he could, a position that helped his prosthetic drain out faster. Since he really had no control over his flow right now, he needed to make sure all that liquid moved through the funnel as fast as it possibly could. He didn’t feel himself overflowing it, and that made him feel even more relaxed. He didn’t have to worry anymore. He could just pee.
And that’s what he did. He just peed and moaned and shivered for so, so long. Once his waterfall finally stopped, the toilet chimed again “123 seconds,” it stated. Wow. Over two minutes… Avery didn’t know if he’d ever peed for THAT long before in his life.
He continued standing there in a total daze. It took almost thirty seconds for him to remember himself enough to shake out his STP and zip back up. He moved to the sink to wash his hands and splash a bit of water on his face. He was utterly exhausted, he felt drained and wrung out absolutely everywhere, not just in his bladder.
He turned and saw that the door was wide open. He’d been in such a frenzy he hadn’t really thought about that important step of the peeing process. His face beet-red, he stepped out of the room. Lydia was standing down the hall. “I didn’t watch!” she blurted immediately.
Avery’s face somehow managed to get redder and he didn’t respond.
“I— Only for a second,” Lydia said. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, and then the door was open, and I only saw for a second, I didn’t watch you!”
“Sorry…” Avery said. “About… All of this.”
“Don’t apologize,” Lydia said. “You’d be surprised how hard it is to find a restroom here sometimes.”
“I definitely was surprised,” Avery agreed quietly. He looked down at his jeans, at all the wet spots visible from all the leaks he’d been unable to stop. There was a huge one at his zipper from that last second loss of control…
“Just tie your jacket around your waist when you go home,” Lydia said. “You’ll be okay.”
“Thanks,” Avery said, following her suggestion. His jacket did manage to conceal a lot of the larger damp areas. There were still a few lower down on his legs, but those could have easily come from other things. “Thank you so much,” he added. “I’d been dying to go for hours, you have no idea.”
“You’re welcome,” Lydia said. “Glad you’re feeling better.” |
Avery had had a very long day, and it was only going to get even longer. He only had one final class left to sit through, just one more hour until school was over, but the thing was that having a full bladder could easily make one hour feel more like twenty. And, dear Lord was Avery’s bladder full right now.
Avery wasn’t desperate to pee. No. He went past ‘desperate’ a few hours ago. Now he was feeling something altogether new. He had to pee worse than he’d ever thought it was possible to have to pee. He needed to pee worse than he’d ever needed to pee in his life. He had to pee worse than anyone in history had ever needed to pee, he was sure of it.
Avery. Had. To. Pee.
He had not urinated all day. Literally, ALL day. Not a single, minuscule, little drop. He hadn’t pissed at all since around four o’clock in the morning. Ordinarily, he was annoyed when his sleep was interrupted by his bladder. But, today he was grateful that it had caused him to stumble to the toilet in the middle of the night and empty it out. Because, if it hadn’t done that, then he would definitely be sitting in a puddle right now.
His alarm hadn’t gone off this morning. When Uncle Bart came in to see if he was getting ready and found him still asleep, he’d woken him up himself. Avery rushed to get his clothes on and head out the door, forgetting to use the toilet before leaving. But, since he’d gone during the night, it wasn’t too big of an emergency. ‘I’ll just go as soon as I’m at school,’ he thought.
But, then his late start to the morning had caused him to show up at school late as well. He’d needed to go straight to his first class, no time to stop at the restroom for some relief. But, still, he didn’t have to go THAT badly. It was just a little, annoying hum in his middle. He could make it until the class was over, no problem.
When that class let out, he MEANT to go straight in the direction of the nearest restroom. But, Lydia was walking beside him, talking to him about stuff, and he ended up feeling too awkward to tell her to hang on for a minute while he went to the toilet. Before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk for his next class, his bladder still neglected and still filling up. ‘I’ll go right after this one,’ he decided.
Except, after that class ended, he STILL didn’t go. Nothing happened to stop him, he just still didn’t really NEED the toilet that much and it slipped his mind as he headed to third period. It wasn’t until he’d sat down and his jeans pressed themselves against his bladder that he remembered he still hadn’t urinated yet today. ‘Go as soon as this class is done,’ he scolded himself.
But, of course, he still didn’t have the chance. The teacher prattled on until AFTER the bell had rung, and Avery’s fourth period class was all the way on the other end of the school. Which meant he had to RUN there if he wanted to make it in time, and a toilet stop was completely out of the question.
Except, by THAT point a toilet stop was beginning to creep its way up to the top of Avery’s list of priorities. All through that fourth class, he was tapping his foot beneath his desk and occasionally glancing up at the clock. He had lunch after fourth period though, so he was positive that relief must have been right around the corner. As he sat there, he started to fantasize about it. There was a restroom pretty close to this classroom, it would only take a couple minutes to walk there. He’d push open the door, get himself in front of the first vacant urinal he saw, and let his tense muscles have a nice, well deserved break. He imagined how his stream would look and sound as it trickled out, how good it would feel to allow his bladder to deflate…
The bell rang and Avery’s bladder loosened itself in anticipation. Very eagerly, he left the classroom and headed down the hall towards the toilets. By that point, the annoying buzzing in his middle had turned into a much more insistent throb, telling him he’d better get himself in front of a urinal soon unless he wanted to really suffer. He was VERY nearly there when he was stopped by the guidance counselor, Ms. Wren.
Avery had forgotten that it was a Wednesday, the day he had to spend his lunch period talking with her. He didn’t understand WHY exactly. He never had anything to talk about and she always asked him questions that he didn’t like giving answers to. Stuff about his parents, or about the treatment facility they’d made him go to, or about other students picking on him. Avery didn’t understand why he had to TALK about those things, talking didn’t change anything. His parents weren’t going to accept him because he told the guidance counsellor how he felt. The memories of the treatment facility wouldn’t vanish just because he’d dredged them back up again to tell someone about them. And, the people who bullied him would still bully him no matter how many times he ‘shared his feelings’ about it.
He thought his sessions with the counsellor were pointless on a good day, but today when he had something else he REALLY had to go do instead, sitting through it was even worse. When she stopped him, what he wanted to do was gesture to the restroom he’d been about to go into and say “Hold on a minute, gotta go first,” but for whatever reason it was a little too hard for him to find his voice in order to do that.
“Avery,” she had said upon noticing him getting jittery. “This is a safe place, don’t feel nervous.”
‘I’m not nervous, I just really have to go to the bathroom,’ Avery thought. But, then he realized he must have been a little nervous too, because he found he couldn’t actually SAY that to her. He WANTED to. He really, really did! He wanted to say “I need to use the restroom, could I please go?” He wanted to say “I promise I’m not trying to skip out on you, I just haven’t had a chance to go all day and I really have to.” He wanted to say “Please? I promise I’ll be fast.”
But, he couldn’t say any of it. The little voice in his head that was always beating down on him was too loud. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t want to be wasting her time with you to begin with,’ the voice said. ‘Don’t waste any more of it by making her wait around while you take a piss.’ He knew these thoughts weren’t true. One of the things he HAD learned in these sessions was that he had a ‘very negative internal voice’, and that the things it told him about himself were untrue and should just be ignored. But, ignoring them was a lot easier said than done.
“Avery, is something bothering you more than usual today?” Ms. Wren asked. “You seem very distracted.”
‘Yes! I need the toilet!’ Avery thought urgently. But, what he said was “I… I guess I am kind of nervous. I just don’t know why.”
She talked to him for a bit about how that was normal, a lot of people got anxious without really knowing the reason sometimes. But, of course, Avery DID actually know the reason now. The reason was that he had to pee pretty badly and couldn’t work up the nerve to say so. Ms. Wren went on about how it made sense he felt like he was under pressure right now after all the trauma he had gone through. Avery couldn’t stop thinking about how right she was. He WAS under a lot of pressure. He was under so much pressure he could barely stand it! When she stopped and asked him another question, he almost said “I have to use the bathroom now, okay?” but the words stayed locked up inside his throat. ‘Don’t waste her time with this,’ his inner voice scolded.
The lunch period ended and so did Avery’s counseling session. At no point did he manage to tell Ms. Wren that he needed the bathroom, at no point did he get to go use it. So, when he got to his next class, he was freaking out a bit. His need had gotten bad enough that he was rocking in his seat a little every few minutes, and his eyes were completely glued to the clock. ‘I just HAVE to go after this one,’ he thought. ‘I can’t take much more of this. It’s getting real bad!’
He didn’t go after that class either. The teacher wanted to discuss something with him. Avery wasn’t even sure what it was. Everything she said to him went in one ear and out the other. It was something about how if he was worried about something, he was free to talk to her about it, but Avery couldn’t concentrate. He just kept looking at the clock, growing less and less certain that he’d have time to use the restroom before his next class.
“I can tell you’re feeling stressed,” she was saying. “And I know you’ve had a rough couple of years. I want you to know that, if I can help you in any way, you just need to tell me what’s bothering you.”
Avery kept nodding his head up and down automatically, not processing a word of it. By the time she let him go, it was too late for him to stop off at the toilet, and he wanted to cry as he walked right past a restroom without letting himself go inside. The thing he needed more than anything was right beyond that door, but he couldn’t go through it without being late. And, he COULDN’T be late. He might get in trouble. He might get detention, and they might call his uncle. Avery already felt like a big enough burden on him for taking up space inside his home, so he really, really wanted to stay out of trouble.
His next class was chemistry and he very nearly DID start crying when he realized he’d have to pour liquids and swish them together for an hour while holding back a bladder that was beginning to feel more than a bit too stretched out. He looked at the clock as he sat down. It was two in the afternoon. He hadn’t urinated in ten hours, and he was absolutely miserable with the need to do so. He was starting to honestly feel a little scared, too. He knew he couldn’t keep holding it indefinitely, sooner or later his pee was going to HAVE to come out, and the hope that he’d be in the proper place when that finally happened was quickly decreasing.
He was paired up with Lydia to mix a few chemicals together and take notes on how they interacted with one another. Shimmying his hips and bouncing his knees, he asked if she minded mixing them. “I need— I… I just can’t pour stuff right now, okay?” he said.
Lydia may not have been able to discern body language and facial expressions super easily a lot of the time, but she was beginning to get a lot better at telling when Avery needed to pee now that she’d seen him get desperate a few times. “Avery, do you need to go to the bathroom?” she asked, much too loudly for Avery’s liking.
“Shhh,” Avery hushed her. “Yes, I do,” he added in a whisper.
“Ask to go, then,” Lydia said. “We’re not starting the assignment for a few more minutes, anyway.”
Avery turned and looked at their teacher Ms. Hartley’s desk. He imagined himself rushing over and mumbling softly “May I please, please go use the restroom before we start? It’s an emergency.” And then she’d say “Of course you may,” and she’d give him a pass. Then he’d hurry down the hallway, fling open the door to the men’s room, unzip at a urinal, and finally feel all better.
But, then he imagined himself rushing over and mumbling softly “May I please, please go use the restroom before we start? It’s an emergency.” And, instead of giving him a pass, Ms. Hartley would just shake her head, tell him he should have gone during the break, and say it so loudly everyone in class heard and turned around to look. They’d stare at his twisting hips and crossing legs and know that he was BEYOND desperate to pee. They’d laugh and he’d feel so ashamed, and—
“She’ll let you go,” Lydia interrupted his panicked, racing thoughts. “I don’t know if it was like this at your old school, but here it’s, like, a policy. They HAVE to let us go because we can’t learn if we’re too busy needing to pee.”
Avery nodded. That was a nice policy. A lot better than it had been at his old school back when he lived with his parents. There, everyone got two toilet passes at the beginning of each semester, and once they’d used them up then they wouldn’t be allowed to use the restroom anymore no matter how many times they asked or how badly they had to go. Avery remembered several horrible days where he’d been squirming at his desk, debating if he should use one of his passes or save it for a later date where he may be even MORE desperate for a pee.
He was relieved that apparently nothing like that happened here. “I’m gonna ask,” he whispered.
Except, then Ms. Hartley went to the front of the class and began talking everyone through the experiment. And Avery didn’t feel so sure anymore. It was one thing to go up to her desk and whisper to her that he REALLY needed to pee. It was quite another to raise his hand and announce it to the entire class. ‘Wait until she’s done talking,’ he told himself.
Except, she just kept talking. And talking. And talking. And Avery just sat there, fidgeting and squirming and tapping his feet against the floor. He cringed every time Lydia poured a solution into a beaker, and jiggled up and down each time she mixed them together, the liquid sloshing and making the urine in his bladder do the same.
He kept staring at a few of the beakers that were remaining empty. The openings were pretty narrow, but he didn’t think he’d have too much trouble…Well, ‘using’ one of them without spilling anything. That would certainly feel pretty good. He’d get to be all nice and relieved without having to bother anybody about it. He’d pee and pee until he was good and empty and didn’t have to worry about anything anymore…
And, he’d get into a whole lot of trouble.
He shook his head, as if to clear the image of himself pissing forcefully into the beaker from his mind. He couldn’t believe he’d seriously just thought about doing that. He’d have to stand from his seat, which would surely make everyone look at him. And then his pee would hiss and spatter noisily as he let it flow. In what universe was all THAT less embarrassing than simply raising his hand and admitting that he needed to go?
Clearly, his desperation for the toilet was beginning to mess with his brain. He was so stuffed with piss that it was probably filling up his head by now. He NEEDED to let it out NOW. He HAD to ask to be excused, he could NOT take it anymore. Except, Ms. Hartley was right in the middle of explaining something. It would be rude to interrupt her now, wouldn’t it? What if she got annoyed with him? What if she thought he was childish and irresponsible for making the whole class pause what they were doing just so that he could ask for the restroom?
Better to wait until she’d stopped for a second on her own. That would cause less trouble for everyone else. He could hold it a little bit longer. He could! He knew he could! It just… It just really, really hurt right now and he didn’t WANT to keep holding it. But, not wanting to hold it was not the same thing as not being ABLE to hold it. His pee was staying right where it belonged, which was painful and was causing tears to prick in the corners of his eyes, but it WAS still staying in there, at least. He leaned back in his seat, trying to give his bladder a little more room inside his body to spread out, but there was barely any space left in there for it. It was so swollen, so full…
Ms. Hartley kept talking and talking, and Avery never felt like there was a good time to interrupt. So, he just kept sitting there, twitching his hips and tapping his feet and begging for time to speed up.
Once class was done with, he gently got to his feet. His bladder felt gigantic by then, he could almost feel it pressing firmly into his other organs. It was making it difficult to breathe. Determined not to let anything stop him this time, he started to bolt for the door. “Could someone stay back and help with putting away the beakers?” his teacher asked.
Avery hesitated. Everyone was leaving except for him and Lydia… He didn’t want to leave her and their teacher alone to do everything, but his bladder was begging him to. ‘Go!’ he screamed at himself. ‘You idiot! Do you just WANT to have an accident!?’
Lydia nudged him and pointed out the door, “Avery,” she said. “I can—“
“Thank you both,” their teacher said, and Avery knew he didn’t have it in him to leave now. So, he spent all the time he SHOULD have been using to urinate putting away beakers instead.
And all of that was why now, as he sat down at his desk for his final class of the day, Avery was absolutely positive he was going to explode before it was over. He was angry with himself for it, he’d had lots of chances to go throughout the day and had continually turned them all down for one reason or another. It was his own fault that he was so desperate now.
Lydia was seated beside him, “Ask to go,” she whispered.
Avery nodded. He had every intention to do exactly that. His bladder was BEGGING and SCREAMING at him to do exactly that. His knees bounced up and down underneath his desk, like he was pumping the pedals of a bicycle. His hands were gripping onto his chair, and he was dying to put them between his legs instead. Sweat was running off his body in sheets. He had waited WAY too long, and absolutely NOTHING good could come from continuing to wait even more.
Ms. Johnson was at her desk. All Avery had to do was get up and go tell her that he needed the restroom. Once he did that, all his troubles would be over, he’d be freed from the horrific burden trapped inside his body. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to stand—
Ms. Johnson got up and walked over to the chalkboard. She started to address the class and Avery, whom had only just started to raise himself from his seat, dropped back down again and allowed his legs to cross. Ms. Johnson kept talking and talking and talking. Avery kept hoping she’d hand them worksheets, or tell them to silently read a few chapters out of the book they were studying this semester. Something that would result in her going back to her desk so that Avery could quietly and discreetly request a toilet break. But, five minutes passed and that didn’t happen. Then ten. Then fifteen. And Avery was dying.
That had to be it. He MUST have been actually, literally dying. That was the only explanation for why it hurt THIS badly. His urethra was throbbing and burning, his abdomen was filled with a rush of pain. His entire lower half must have been made up of nothing but tense, coiled muscles and gallons of urine. His back had started to ache. It was a light, tender feeling, not nearly as intense as what was happening in his middle. He thought a fire must have been igniting inside his body, his piss was absolutely BOILING. He felt like he was holding in every drop of liquid on the planet, all of it trying to force its way through his trembling, exhausted urethral opening. His body wanted to transform itself into a geyser, his bladder wanted him to let it relax for just a second. Just one second. Just one, little second would feel so, so wonderful. His whole body was tight and tense. So much pulsing, so much twitching, so much swelling, so much pressure. It was unbearable! He wriggled his thighs and everything still felt dry, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to say that.
He rocked back and forth in his seat, his eyes squeezed themselves shut, he chewed on his lip, and he begged and begged for time to move faster. He begged and begged for Ms. Johnson to go to her desk so that he could ask her to be excused without everyone else hearing, and—
“Ah!” Avery gasped as he was startled by a sudden pulse of liquid. His first leak had broken free, blooming warm and sticky in his boxers.
Everyone turned to look at Avery after his outburst.
“Avery…?” Ms. Johnson asked. “Did you have something to say?”
‘Please, please, let me use the toilet, please?’ Avery wanted to shout. ‘It’s an emergency! I can’t hold it! I really, really can’t hold it!’ He forced his eyes back open and directed them towards the clock. When he saw that there was still half an hour left in class, he felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. He couldn’t wait through that. He couldn’t. He had to go so, so much… “Uh—Um…” he began, almost in a whisper. Everyone was looking at him, staring at him. What if Lydia was wrong? What if it wasn’t actually the policy to let everyone use the restroom when they asked? What if Ms. Johnson said no to him in front of everybody? He just KNEW that if that happened, he’d end up begging her! He’d be letting everyone know that he was bursting and couldn’t hold it! “May… May I…”
“Avery?”
“May I please use the toilet?” Avery asked very, very, very softly. So softly it was like he hadn’t even said it at all.
“Huh?” Ms. Johnson asked. “Speak up.”
“Never mind,” Avery said, a little louder.
Ms. Johnson stared at him for one more second, then resumed her lesson. And Avery hated himself. He’d gotten so close, SO close, to doing it; To speaking up about his needs and asking someone else to assist him, but he’d still failed at the last second. He DESERVED to be in this much pain. He DESERVED to burst. He DESERVED to have an accident right here in class in front of everybody. Maybe that would teach him to stop being such a sniveling, weak little coward that was so terrified of other human beings that he’d rather let his bladder explode than say a few simple words to someone.
Lydia was the only one looking at him now, and instead of staring in amusement or confusion like everyone else had been, the only thing present on Lydia’s face was concern. Avery hated himself even more for worrying her. This was such a stupid thing to make someone else worry about. It was HIS fault he was so desperate, he’d basically CHOSEN this, Lydia shouldn’t have cared about it at all. She SHOULD have been revolted by him, she SHOULD have thought he was disgusting, and weak, and a pathetic excuse for a person. That was the only way anyone should think of someone that didn’t even have the courage to ask for a toilet pass when they were on the verge of a full-blown accident.
Lydia leaned closer to him, “I’ll ask,” she whispered.
Avery stared, twisting in his chair. “You don’t ha—“
Lydia raised her hand up and waved it around.
“Lydia?” Ms. Johnson asked. “Did you have a questi—“
“Ms. Johnson, Avery REALLY needs to pee. Like, SUPER bad. Can he please go?”
Avery only THEN realized that his hands had tucked between his legs, because when he instinctively tried to grab onto his hat to pull it over his eyes out of embarrassment, he found he couldn’t move them. A few of his classmates looked at him and began to laugh, now seeing his coiled legs and restless fidgeting in a new light.
Ms. Johnson looked at Avery for a second, and he wasn’t sure if she was staring at his by-now blatantly obvious pee-dance, or wondering why he apparently couldn’t ask her for permission himself. “Avery, you may be excused,” she said.
Even through all the embarrassment he felt; From needing to have someone ELSE get him permission to take a toilet break, from Lydia’s poor word choice and the way she emphasized the severity of his need, from the way he couldn’t stop squirming and holding himself… Even through all that humiliation, he felt immensely relieved now that he knew he was finally free to go. It was all about to be over… Just a few more minutes and he’d be at a urinal, peeing his heart out. He could make it a few more minutes.
Avery clenched every muscle in his lower body and slowly dragged himself up and onto his feet. It wasn’t as difficult as he’d feared it would be. The knowledge that relief, beautiful, sweet, glorious relief, was so, so close to being his helped him find the willpower to stand up. ‘I can make it…’ he thought. ‘I can make it, I can make it, I can make it.’ He stumbled to the door, feeling everyone’s eyes on him, and feeling the way it made his neck heat up and his hair stand on end.
Once out in the hallway, tears were running down Avery’s face without him noticing. His brain was filled with static and white-noise and pain as he told his body to start walking in the direction of the toilets. He was starting to wonder if it was possible for his bladder to actually rip; If little tears were forming in its sensitive walls already. He felt like there must have been. He felt like his urine was clawing and scratching, trying to find a way out. Every step caused his urethra to burn with the intensity of a wildfire. Every time his foot hit the ground, he felt like he was being punched in the stomach. But, he was making it. He was moving.
The world had shrunken considerably. The only thing that seemed to exist anymore was Avery’s bladder. That, and the boiling, stinging pain that was roosting itself against his quivering, overworked urethral opening, trying its best to restrain the gallons and gallons of pee sloshing and crashing and doing everything it could to force its way out. ‘I need to go,’ his brain screamed. ‘I need to go so bad!’
His steps started to grow a little less painful, like his swollen bladder was beginning to adjust itself to being jostled around. Maybe it was getting used to being bounced. Or maybe his muscles were just pulled so ridiculously taut that they were all starting to go numb. ‘Bathroom. NOW. Please…’ Why weren’t there more restrooms in this school? There should have been one beside every classroom. There should have been one every three feet. There should have been urinals installed right in the hallways… Didn’t the people who designed the building understand that sometimes a five minute walk was just WAY too much for a person’s bladder to handle?! He rounded the final corner, his overly tensed muscles beginning to slacken, his aching, stinging urethra starting to relax. He’d be peeing in a minute. Just one more minute. Then, he’d be free.
He approached the door to the men’s room— Ohhhhh, yesss, finally!— And then his body tightened back up again painfully, one errant spurt of his burden squirting into his boxers as icy horror shot down his spine.
There was a sign on the door.
The restroom was out of order.
So desperate that he had lost all ability to think and reason, he tried the doorknob anyway. He didn’t care if the room was flooded and disgusting, or anything. He just needed to get in there and PEE before he soaked the Hell out of his jeans and totally drenched the entire hallway. But, of course, the door wouldn’t open. It was locked. “Ahhh—! No… I can’t wait, I have to pee NOW— HAVE to—!” Avery moaned, stomping his feet, his fingers digging harshly against his crotch. He didn’t realize that his latest bout of begging hadn’t stayed inside his head. It did not hit him that he’d just spoken his pleas aloud until another guy whom had been intending to use that restroom turned to stare at him.
Avery turned beet red, realizing how obvious his problem must have been. But, he couldn’t do anything to try and make it LESS obvious. His hand stayed firmly between his legs, his hips kept grinding against them, his feet kept bouncing, his knees kept knocking. His bladder kept screeching and begging for the door to just magically swing open.
The guy kept staring. “Um… You good?” he asked after a moment. Avery was so embarrassed. He was glad that he didn’t actually KNOW this guy, he couldn’t remember ever seeing him in one of his classes. He must have been in a different grade.
“Ah—!” Avery choked out, trying to remember how to speak. Trying to remember what words even WERE. But he found that his vocabulary was now extremely limited. The only words he could recall were ‘Please, please, please, I need to pee so bad! I really, really have to go right now! I can’t hold it! I need the toilet!’ His pee-hole was practically vibrating with the effort of holding back his flood and he managed to squeak “No… I’m not.”
“Are you… New here?” the guy asked. “That’s okay, I’ve only been here a month and it took me a while to find stuff too. But, there are other bathrooms, you know… Need me to show you where they are?”
Avery wasn’t new here. He was aware of the locations of all the toilets in the school. He just did NOT think he could make it to a different restroom in time. He was almost positive that he COULDN’T do it. The school had multiple floors. Each floor had one set of restrooms. To get to a different restroom, Avery would need to go either up or down a flight of stairs. He would totally EXPLODE if he tried to do that right now.
He’d been just about to lose it when he’d made it to THIS restroom, and was now running on a whole lot of borrowed time. He was going to have an accident. He just wished this other guy would vacate the hallway so that he could have a little bit of privacy to do that. He was so furious with himself. If he’d just worked up the nerve to tell someone that he needed to go at ANY point today, then he would have had PLENTY of time to find a functional restroom before he burst.
When Avery didn’t say anything, the guy just nodded at him. “I’ll show you,” he decided. “Come on.”
Avery managed to nod and forced himself to follow along after the other guy. Since he’d stood in one place outside the bathroom door for so long, his bladder was given a very rude awakening when he started walking again. The urine contained within it thrashed and pounded against the walls of its prison, protesting the fact that he was walking AWAY from the restroom. ‘You can do this,’ he told himself. ‘Left foot, right foot. Don’t pee. Left foot, right foot. Don’t pee…’
But, he DID pee. Not a lot. He was stunned, but he still hadn’t drenched himself. However, even if he was managing to hold back the hissing, gushing torrent of a stream that was begging him for permission to come out, he was completely unable to stop dribbling. Every step brought forth a drip. ‘I can’t hold it…’ he thought miserably. ‘I can’t… It’s too much. It’s impossible. I can’t do it. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t… I’m gonna pee…’
Avery couldn’t look up. He just kept staring at the shoes of the guy ahead of him, and at his own knotted, coiled legs. His feet were pointed towards each other, his knees rubbing together with each tiny, pained step. 'I'm gonna pee, I'm gonna pee, I'm gonna pee!' Avery continued to chant to himself in his mind, miserably. The situation felt utterly hopeless to him. He was going to have an accident. Any second now, his pants would be soaked, utterly saturated in the liquid he'd been fighting so hard to contain within himself. 'I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait!' He wasn't sure how long he'd been enduring this. It felt like he'd been holding it for days on end when they stopped at the bottom of a staircase.
He felt slightly better now that his bladder wasn't being ricocheted all around his abdomen and clobbered harshly against the walls of his body, but the relief he felt when he stopped walking for a second couldn’t last long. He still had to get up the stairs now, after all. He knew that the restroom was RIGHT at the top of the staircase. As soon as he got up to the next floor, the bathroom would literally be RIGHT there in front of him and he’d only have to hurry forward a few more steps. Then, he’d be inside the restroom, and he’d just have to turn to the left, take four more steps, and he’d be at a urinal. Under normal circumstances, all of that would only take him about two minutes to accomplish.
His current circumstances were far from being normal though. At this point ‘I have to pee really, really bad’ didn’t even do justice to how Avery felt. He felt wildly out of control, pressure assaulting every corner of his body. He no longer felt it just in his bladder anymore. There was pressure in his head, in all his limbs, in his chest… Every body part he had was screaming, demanding that Avery’s flood be sprayed forth right that very second.
“It’s right up the stairs,” the other guy said. “Come on, it’s really close.”
Avery already knew that of course. But, weirdly, hearing this guy TELL him that a bathroom was nearby was a bit reassuring. ‘It’s really close,’ Avery repeated to himself. ‘It’s really, really close. Hold it.’ His bladder squeezed in on itself, forcing a two-second long jet of urine into his boxers as if to whine ‘But I don’t WANNA hold it!’
“Come on,” the guy repeated, starting up the stairs.
Avery hesitantly followed. He put one foot onto the first step, and—
‘Holy SHIT!’
A massive, painful jolt shuddered up his leg and slammed full-force against his bladder, shaking it and shaking it and forcing another leak to drizzle out of him. “Nnnnh…” Avery cringed. He looked up to the other student, whom was already half-way up the stairs. He was suddenly hit with the terrible image of himself flooding his pants right where he stood with this guy staring at him. It terrified him, particularly because of how likely he thought it was to come true.
‘Run,’ he ordered himself. ‘Move as fast as you can.’ It was his only hope, he decided. Grinding his thighs together, he forced himself to speed up, every new step making the awful, heinous, ripping feeling in his middle intensify. Near the top of the staircase, he froze, hands pressing even tighter against himself, his bladder seizing, shivering and feeling as though it was being stretched and pulled in all directions.
Avery was dying. He had never needed ANYTHING this badly before in his entire life. He had no idea how the piss wasn’t already spraying out of him. He begged and he pleaded with God and the universe to bring an end to his suffering, to somehow teleport him in front of a urinal right the Hell now. But neither God nor the universe showed him any mercy. There was no hope, only burning painful agony and white hot, never-ending desperation.
He slowly raised his head, looked up, and was barely able to see the door to the restroom through the sheet of tears obscuring his vision. Avery took a few more seconds to understand. The only thing his brain could process was his desire, his want, his NEED to take a massive, forceful, gushing piss. Then, the realization sunk in. He was nearly there. Just a few more steps. The sudden, intense, painful surge slowly ebbed away and he dragged himself forward.
The other guy had paused at the door to wait for him, “Here we are—“ he started to say, when Avery flung the door open and rushed inside. He could feel more leaks and dribbles rolling down his legs, and hoped that he hadn’t left a mark on his pants. He knew that he probably had, but he’d deal with that in a minute. All that mattered now was he was IN a bathroom, and there was a row of urinals RIGHT there, and he just needed to take a few more steps. He just needed to unbutton his jeans. He just needed to get his zipper down. He just needed to free the head of his prosthetic. He just needed to aim. He just needed to relax. He just needed to pee. Oh, God, he just needed to PEE.
…
…
Hsssssssss….
…
…
“Ahhhh…. Yesssssss…”
He was doing it! He’d made it! His zipper was down, the flaps of his jeans were open, he was aimed, and he was peeing! He was peeing and peeing and peeing, and holy fuck did it feel good… His expression glazed over completely, his vision still blurred from his tears, becoming even foggier as a cloud of relief fell over him. Urine was pouring out of him so quickly that he needed to lean forward to help his STP drain it all out fast enough that it didn’t just overflow.
When he did that, he remembered that he wasn’t alone, and his usual anxious thoughts appeared once more. What if that guy thought he was standing weird? The logical part of his brain told him that that was a completely ridiculous thing to worry about, no one was going to scrutinize another guy’s peeing stance, but the fearful part of his brain insisted that every person on Earth seriously paid a lot of really close attention to how other people looked while they peed.
Logic finally won out when Avery saw the guy take the urinal at the other end of the row. Of course he wasn’t watching Avery go. Of course he was only concerned with taking care of his own need. Which was all that Avery SHOULD have been focusing on as well; Relieving himself after so much time spent waiting and enduring felt so, so wonderful. He should have just been enjoying it, not stressing himself out over stupid things.
So, that’s what he tried to do. He did his best to push his worries from his mind and just concentrate on how good it felt to let go of all this urine. Because, it did feel really, really good. Alarmingly however, even though he was currently in the process of voiding his bladder, he still felt a bit of that stinging pressure inside his body. Like he’d been so full that even now that he was letting it out, it still kind of felt like he was holding it; He’d definitely waited WAY too long this time, and he hoped he hadn’t hurt something.
That feeling went away after a few more seconds, at least. There was a brief moment where he felt an utterly glorious sensation of something inside him deflating, and then ALL he could feel was the release. All he could feel was the pee gushing its way out of him. No more pressure, no more stinging, no more pain… Nothing but absolutely orgasmic relief. Another pleased groan fell from his lips, “Haaaahhhh…”
Avery knew that this was weird, but he liked being able to see his pee flow down into the urinal. It felt good to watch it trickle from the tip of his cock. It felt nice to adjust his aim slightly and watch it shoot in a different direction. He knew that all of that was strange, and he’d thought that eventually the novelty would wear off once he’d been able to go standing up for a while, but it hadn’t yet. It was still fun, and it still made him feel extra good.
Especially when he’d been ready to explode like he had been this time. Not only did letting it flow after a bout of prolonged, desperate restraint put Avery into a state of bliss, but being able to watch as a huge, forceful geyser of piss erupted out of his dick and loudly splattered the porcelain urinal made him feel amazing in a way he didn’t really know how to describe.
Avery heard the other guy zip his pants back up and noted with some alarm that HE still didn’t feel close to done. That guy had started urinating AFTER him and had still finished up before Avery’s own bladder had dried out. Avery had been so desperate to do this that he shouldn’t have been shocked there had been THIS much pee locked away inside his body, but nevertheless it was still a little startling. Again, he worried that he may have hurt himself.
Finally, FINALLY his pee started to taper off. He was no longer spraying like a firehose, but more like a shower head. Then, more like a leaky faucet. And then, he was merely dribbling. He shook out his prosthetic, tucked it back into his jeans and zipped them before flushing the urinal. He took a few shaky steps backwards.
His legs felt like cold gelatin and it was almost like he was re-learning how to walk. He made it to the sinks and looked at himself in the mirror. He was bright pink, and his cheeks were still tear streaked. He splashed some water onto his face as he washed his hands and tried to even out his breathing. “Oh my God…” he mumbled to his reflection. That had been close. That had been REALLY freaking close… Just to make sure, he looked down at his pants. There was a little damp spot over his crotch, but considering how many leaks he’d felt himself have, he considered himself lucky that that was all that was visible.
A part of him felt a sense of triumph; That was, without a doubt, one of the worst piss emergencies Avery had ever suffered through in his life. And, in the end, he’d MADE IT in time. That took strength.
But, the rest of him felt ashamed. Ultimately, the main reason he’d found himself in that situation— the main reason he’d NEEDED the toilet that badly to begin with—was because once again he’d been too afraid to simply talk to someone, and voice his needs to them. He KNEW that he could have simply said “Please, excuse me for a minute, I need to use the restroom really fast” at any point today and then he would have been able to go have a pee before his agony reached such a fevered pitch. But, he hadn’t. He hadn’t been able to find his voice and just do it… And, THAT wasn’t strength at all.
Avery knew that this wasn’t good. He’d had NO reason to have so much trouble asking someone if he could please go take a quick toilet break. He’d MADE himself hold it until he was in so much pain that he was crying and had barely managed to get to a urinal without peeing in his pants, and he’d done that for no good reason.
As he made his way to the door, he realized he felt sore in his middle. Very, VERY sore, in fact. He felt like his lower stomach had been kicked about five hundred times. He opened the door and stepped out. That guy was waiting beside it. “Jeez, dude. Holy SHIT,” he said. “Are you, like, okay? Do I have to take you to the nurse?”
Avery tugged at his cap, trying to pull it down so that it shielded his face more. He was awfully embarrassed that this guy he didn’t even KNOW had stuck around to check on him. And, he was a little frightened that he’d apparently just pissed out such an immense quantity of urine that it was enough to make the guy think he needed medical attention…
DID he need medical attention? He’d certainly been in a LOT of pain, and he was STILL sore…
“N—No,” Avery stuttered softly. “I’m fine now. Just needed to go kinda bad, that’s all.”
The guy raised a brow at the word ‘kinda’, but didn’t push it. “Okay. If you’re sure,” he said, walking off.
Avery stood there a moment longer. He felt a silly bit of reluctance to walk away from the bathroom now, like a part of him was terrified his bladder would spontaneously refill itself and he’d be in the same awful spot he’d been in several minutes ago. He rubbed a shaking hand over his still aching middle as he finally started to walk back down the stairs. The staircase no longer seemed like a medieval torture device to Avery now that he wasn’t trying to drag his bladder over each step. Stairs were easy now. Everything was easy now. He could breathe as deeply as he wanted, he could walk in a straight line, he could stand upright all the way… He’d honestly forgotten how simple these things all were when he wasn’t on the verge of wetting his pants.
He hurried back to class. He knew he’d been gone a lot longer than he should have been and hoped he wasn’t in trouble for it. When he opened the door to the classroom, everyone was quietly reading and Ms. Johnson was at her desk. He expected her to call him over and ask what had taken him so long, but she didn’t.
As he walked back to his desk, he kept a hand over the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide the wet spot that would make it obvious to everyone how close a call he’d just had.
Lydia looked over as he sat down and smiled at him. She knew better than to say it, but she’d actually kinda expected him to come back to class wearing different pants following a very shameful visit to the nurse’s office. “You okay now?” she asked him in a whisper.
“Better,” Avery said, blushing.
Lydia wanted to say something else. She wanted to ask him why he’d had so much trouble asking for what he needed, why he’d needed HER to do it for him… But, she stayed quiet on the matter. She wouldn’t force him to talk to her about this, but she hoped he would…
By the time class ended, Avery had to go again. This wasn’t too big of a surprise. His bladder and holding muscles must have been completely worn out after all that. As he and Lydia headed to the exit of the school, they passed by a set of restrooms, and Avery stopped. ‘Come on, don’t make her wait for you,’ that scolding voice in Avery’s head whispered. ‘You can hold it until you get home.’
Avery thought about the things the guidance counsellor had said about his ‘negative internal voice’, and how he needed to stop listening to it. He thought about all the trouble that his negative internal voice had already caused him today… “Lydia… Um… Hold on… I’ve gotta go before we leave, okay?” He gestured to the restroom.
Lydia felt a weird sense of calm from his words, relieved that he’d been able to make himself say them. “No problem,” she said. “I’ll wait for you.” |
(Warning for transphobia and bullying.)
Avery couldn’t believe that his school had authorized a literal kissing booth at their annual carnival. His school, where he’d once been yelled at for violating the ‘public displays of affection’ rule after holding Lydia’s wrist to help her keep a compass steady in art class, had allowed an actual, honest to God kissing booth.
He also couldn’t believe that he’d been tasked with collecting the money people paid for admission. He felt so awkward watching his classmates exchange meaningless kisses with each other like that. Avery had never been kissed before himself. Sometimes he felt bad about that. At his age, he thought he really should have had his first kiss by now, and occasionally he worried there must have been something wrong with him since it hadn’t happened yet. But, he didn’t think he’d spend money to find out what a kiss felt like. He was pretty sure that if he ‘bought’ a kiss here, whatever he ended up feeling wouldn’t be what he was looking for. The three girls and one guy at the booth were all people he barely knew.
Avery also could not believe how late Liam Tracy was. Liam was supposed to have shown up over two hours ago to take over Avery’s position so he could have a break. A very, very badly needed break. Because, above all else, Avery definitely couldn’t believe how full his bladder was right now. His legs had been tied in a double-crossed knot for the last thirty minutes and he was jiggling around so much he was probably producing enough nervous energy to power a small town.
The exact placement of the kissing booth had made Avery’s situation a lot worse. It was directly next to a booth that housed a game where players aimed squirt guns and tried to fill up water balloons faster than one another. And, Avery had learned that that booth was very popular. He hadn’t been able to escape the sound of gushing, spraying, drizzling water for longer than two minutes all day.
And then, right across from the kissing booth, was one of the school’s buildings. The door to the men’s room was clearly visible from Avery’s position and for hours he’d been forced to stand there, getting fuller and fuller, listening to running water, and watching other guys go in and out of that bathroom to do the thing he was absolutely DYING to do.
Avery was pretty sure this must have been what Purgatory was like.
He tapped his foot, uncrossed his legs, crossed them back the other way… Ohh, where the Hell was Liam? Knowing Liam— which, unfortunately Avery did a little too well— he had probably just ditched altogether and wasn’t going to show up at all. Hell, considering how intent he always was on making sure Avery knew how much he hated him, maybe Liam had even predicted that Avery would end up needing to take a leak extremely badly and wanted to prolong his agony as much as possible.
Because, if there was one thing Avery was feeling now, it was definitely agony. He’d actually never felt anything like this before in his life. He’d had to use the restroom super urgently loads of times, sure, but he’d never had it reach such a height before. The pain was moving up his sides now, all of his nerve-endings screaming from the unbearable need to just let everything flow.
He didn’t realize a line had formed for the booth until someone tapped his shoulder, prompting him to jump and let loose a squirt of pee into his boxers. “Ah—!” he gasped.
“Dude,” the guy said, staring at him and waving a dollar bill in his face. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up.”
Avery had to pee so badly he actually FELT like he might throw up. ‘No!’ he wanted to cry. ‘I’m NOT okay! I need the bathroom RIGHT NOW!’ But, he held his tongue along with his bladder and just started accepting payment from everyone that was waiting in line. It was hard to count the bills when he couldn’t keep a single thought in his head for longer than a millisecond. And, he noticed more than a few people giving him strange looks as he found himself totally unable to stop performing his pee dance.
‘I can’t take it anymore,’ Avery thought, feeling more trickles and gushes spurting between his thighs. His pupils were bouncing around in all directions, a look of pure panic on his face. All he could see was the line of people, and the jets of water spraying from the guns in the booth next to his, and the restrooms that were so, SO close but that he wasn’t allowed to go into! And… And the grass at his feet! Ohh, it would feel so good to just turn around, unzip and let it out! He was gripped by the maddening fantasy of yanking his zip down and spraying a tidal wave of piss into the grass in full view of everyone. At least that would be better than peeing his pants!
But, he’d get into a world of trouble if he did that at a school function. He could even be expelled for it. He couldn’t… He couldn’t pee… But, he couldn’t hold it, either. It was coming out! His leaks and dribbles had failed to stop, and he wanted to tear his hair out!
“Do you have to take a leak or something?” the next guy in line asked.
Avery tried to laugh, but it came out more like an anguished cry, and his bladder spasmed so much that his next leak was forceful enough to be audible. “Y—Yes…” he said. “Um… Could you maybe take my place here while I—“
“Nope,” the guy said.
Avery wanted to beg him, but he moved on too fast for Avery to say anything else. But, he thought, getting someone to cover for him was a good idea. He shakily drew his phone from his pocket and sent a text to Lydia.
‘LYDIA. HELP. LIAM HASN’T SHOWN UP AND I NEED A BREAK SUPER BAD.’
He hoped she wouldn’t ask why he needed a break so much. He hoped she’d assume he was just tired, not that he was on the verge of pissing himself. Most of all though, he hoped she hurried!
As Avery waited for his friend to arrive, he continued taking money, he continued dancing, he continued fighting back tears along with the massive tide of pee he was containing. One of the teachers who had been involved in organizing the carnival came over after a few more minutes of Avery’s endless, urgent squirming. She asked him how things were going at the booth.
“TheBooth’sFineButTheNextGuyNeverShowedUpAndINeedToPeeReallyBad!” Avery rushed out all in one breath, his words slurring into one another. It was painful just to breathe now. The simple act of sucking air into his lungs was enough to squish the walls of his bladder and make him lose even more drops.
The teacher just looked at him. “Um, what?”
“My—My replacement. Liam Tracy. He was supposed to be here hours ago, but he never came, and I— I really, really can’t stand here anymore,” Avery said, curling over on himself and clawing his nails into his knees.
“Just give him a few more minutes,” the teacher said.
Avery did not HAVE a few more minutes, “I—I need to go to the restroom.”
“Just a couple more minutes.”
Lydia at last showed up. Avery cringed, letting go of his knees so he could try to pull his hat down to cover more of his face when he noticed Lydia staring at his pathetic display. He didn’t think it would ever get less embarrassing to have Lydia see him like this…
“Avery…” Lydia said. “Are you—“
“No, I’m not okay,” Avery whispered to her harshly. But, it wasn’t much a whisper. More of a gravelly hiss, and it came out much too loud. “I’m about to pee my pants.” Really, he’d already BEGUN to pee his pants, he just didn’t want to admit that to Lydia. He didn’t dare look down at his jeans to examine the wet patches he was sure had formed by now.
“Um,” Lydia looked to the teacher. “Could I take over for Avery while he uses the bathroom? He really, really has to go.”
Avery blushed at the emphasis she’d added in regards to the severity of his need, but hoped it would at least make it more likely he’d be granted a break.
“Okay,” the teacher said. “But, hurry back Avery.”
Avery’s bladder felt so full to bursting that he thought it would take him several minutes to finish peeing, but he nodded and started to rush off. Except, that wasn’t easy. Having been stood in the same place for so many hours, his legs weren’t really in the mood to break into a run like that. And, his bladder definitely wasn’t. His leaks picked up speed as he tried to run and after a few more steps, he was no longer running. He was walking with his legs crossed. Hobbling, more like it. He was dragging himself to the restroom door as fast as his bloated body would allow, but it was so hard, and he had to go so bad, and everything just… hurt so much. ‘Hold it,’ he begged his bladder. ‘Please, keep it in a few more minutes’.
He made it to the restroom door and placed his hand against it. He was going to pee soon, and it was going to feel so wonderful… Just as he was about to push against the door, it swung open, and there was Liam. Avery wanted to yell at him, demand to know where he’d been all this time, but Liam frightened him. Liam was so big, all muscle, and Avery already knew what he could use those muscles for, so he knew better than to provoke him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Liam asked, blocking Avery’s entrance to the restroom he so badly needed.
Avery cringed and squirmed, he could see into the restroom now, could see the row of vacant urinals ready for his use. “I need to pee,” he managed to squeak out… Oh, God, why did his voice always have to go so high when he was scared?
“Did you miss the sign on the door?” Liam said.
‘Not this again…’ Avery thought. ‘Please, not now. Not when I need to go THIS bad…’ He felt his skin prickle and his bladder convulse as he remembered a previous encounter with Liam in one of the school toilets that had ended in a bloodied lip and a dislocated shoulder. “Yeah, I saw it.” He hadn’t ceased his needy wriggling even under Liam’s gaze. He hadn’t stopped dripping out little drops of pee, either.
“Then you know you don’t belong in there,” Liam said. “Go use the girls’.”
Uncle Brad had told Avery he needed to assert himself. He couldn’t let people treat him badly, he didn’t have to accept it. But, standing up for himself was frightening, especially when he knew the other person could easily knock him out with a single punch. “I—I’m not a girl…” Avery said. His heart was thudding so much in his ears, his bladder was searing. He was trying so, so hard not to cry.
“You sure sound like one,” Liam informed, not budging.
“Please, I just—“ Avery stopped himself. His voice was going so high from the fear and the urgent need to void himself… Liam was right, he did sound like a girl, how could he ever expect to be taken seriously? He was so stupid… ‘Stand up for yourself,’ he thought. ‘You just have to use the toilet. And that’s not harming anyone.’ He straightened his throat as best he could and said “I— I’ll pee on your shoes if you don’t move!” Where the Hell had THAT come from?!
Liam was clearly shocked by Avery’s words. Normally, Avery just went silent when Liam laid into him. Normally, Avery rolled over and took it. After getting over the initial shock of the moment, Liam was overcome by anger. How dare he? How freaking dare he? Liam was not about to be disrespected, especially not by the likes of Avery. His fist flew out to slam into Avery’s gut. “The fuck is wrong with you, freak?”
Avery doubled over in pain. This was one of the worst feelings he’d ever experienced. White hot agony instantly flared through his stomach, and he retched as he thought he was about to barf. His bladder crumpled in on itself like a ball of paper being crushed in someone’s hand. His urethra felt like it was on fire. In addition, waves of shame poured onto him. He’d tried to stand up for himself, he’d tried to be assertive, he really had tried, but it had gotten him nowhere… “Pl—Please,” Avery said. “I really, really have to go. Just let me use the bathroom, please?”
Liam just laughed. “Looks like it’s too late for that,” he said.
Avery suddenly became aware of a warm feeling seeping into his socks… And it went all the way up his legs and around his crotch. He was going. No more leaks. No more dribbles. No more spurts. This was a stream; A violent, torrential stream pouring away from his completely burst bladder. He was GOING. But, he was so full of piss that it still felt as though he was holding it. There was no relief, no drop in the pressure, just the sticky, wet heat and the knowledge that he was wetting his pants in public.
He barely reacted. Just stood there in shocked silence as his bladder continued unceremoniously dumping itself into his clothes without his permission. Liam kept laughing, and Avery was sure he was deliberately doing so as loudly as he could to make sure more people looked over and saw how Avery was having an accident. People were looking. They were staring. Avery tried to pull his hat down to shield himself, then ran off. He still hadn’t finished peeing, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stay there anymore.
He eventually found himself crouched under one of the picnic tables, trying to hide. His bladder was finally empty, but there was no relief in that. In fact, he felt so horrifically sore in his center that he was in just as much pain now as he’d been when he was still holding it. Now that he was hidden away from everyone, he buried his face against his knees and let himself start crying.
His phone buzzed with a text from Lydia.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Avery replied to her that he was at the picnic tables and wasn’t planning to come back out until everyone else had gone home.
Lydia was there a few minutes later. “Avery?” she called, not seeing him right away.
Reluctantly, Avery dragged himself out from under the table. He felt so ashamed, so repulsive.
Lydia looked at his damp pants and tear streaked face. She said nothing. She could see panic flash across Avery’s face when she remained silent for so long, but she so wanted to make sure that her next words were the right ones. “It’s… Okay,” she said. “Take off your jacket and tie it around your waist, go home, try to forget about it. You just got stuck waiting for too long, this is Liam’s fault for—“
Avery interrupted her with a bitter laugh, “It sure is.”
“Yes, he should have showed up when he was supposed t—“
“I was going to… To make it,” Avery said softly, boiling hot embarrassment flowing through his veins as he put his jacket around himself. “But, Liam was there and he wouldn’t let me into the bathroom. I… I tried to stand up to him, and then he punched me really hard in the stomach, and I just—“ The tears returned.
Lydia held him and let him cry. “That’s horrible,” she said. “You should report him to the principal. He assaulted you.”
Avery shook his head back and forth against Lydia’s shoulder. The idea of telling the principal that someone had made him wet his pants… “I can’t…”
“Someone else took over the booth,” Lydia said, deciding not to push it. “I can walk you home if you want.”
Avery did want that. He felt so embarrassed walking next to her with his pants covered in urine, but somehow he thought he’d feel even worse if he was walking alone.
***
“He did what to you?” Uncle Brad snapped, dropping his fork and letting it clatter to the table.
Avery shrank back. He should have known not to bring it up, but Uncle Brad had caught him coming back up from the laundry room carrying just a single pair of pants and asked what had happened. Avery kept brushing it off all the way up until dinner when Uncle Brad demanded an answer.
Avery had been unable to think of an excuse and had been forced to admit that he’d had an accident. “But—But it wasn’t my fault!” He stammered, trying to assuage some of the embarrassment he felt. “I held it all day and then when I tried to use the bathroom, Liam wouldn’t let me and punched me real hard in the stomach, and I—“
And then Uncle Brad had interrupted him, expressing outrage. “This is ridiculous, your school can’t keep allowing these things.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Avery insisted softly. “It was my fault. When I saw Liam there I should have gone to a different bathroom, or just found a tree, or—“
“This is NOT your fault,” Uncle Brad said. He stared at Avery. His heart clenched. He had never seen anyone so determined to blame themselves and accept abuse. The fact that Brad knew his own brother was at least partially responsible for Avery’s non-existent self-esteem was absolutely gut-wrenching. “I’m calling the principal tomorrow.”
“No!” Avery begged. “Don’t!” Last time Uncle Brad had gone to the principal about Liam, Liam had just been suspended for a few days and when he came back he was worse to Avery than ever! “Please? Don’t do this to me!”
“I’M not doing anything to you!” Uncle Brad said. “This can’t be allowed to continue. This isn’t even the first time this boy has assaulted you just for trying to use the bathroom. Last time he dislocated your shoulder, this time he’s humiliated you. It has to stop. This boy is guilty of a hate crime.”
“It’s not THAT serious,” Avery said. “I’ll just… I’ll stay out of his way, and it will stop.”
“Avery…” Uncle Brad said, voice softening. “It IS serious, it’s VERY serious. You can’t spend your entire life hiding from people and letting them get away with hurting you. That’s no way to live. I spend a lot of money sending you to that school so you can have a good education, and the LEAST they could do is make sure you can use the toilet safely.”
“I CAN do that,” Avery said. “Most of the time… Just—“
“You should be able to do that ALL of the time,” Uncle Brad said. It hurt him so badly that Avery seemed to think the ability to relieve his bladder was something he had to earn and that others were allowed to take away from him.
When Avery first came to live with him, Brad had spent several days showing him all around the big city. Avery had grown up in a small town in the middle of nowhere, so life in New York City was going to be a big adjustment. Brad had loved how amazed and star-struck Avery looked as he explored the city and discovered new things. Brad had assumed all the shaking and squirming Avery did in the latter half of each day was just him shivering because he was unused to how cold Winters were in the Northern states.
It never occurred to Brad how Avery never asked for a toilet break, even though they’d be out from early in the morning until the sun began to go down. Brad didn’t notice how Avery never followed him into the bathroom when he stopped for a pee himself. Brad didn’t realize that Avery was so scared of public restrooms that he was forcing himself to hold it from sunrise to sunset every single day. Until one day, Avery was in tears because it hurt him so badly to pee and shortly after that, the doctor diagnosed him with a urinary tract infection.
Avery had broken down then, explained that he’d been holding it all the time and that he always needed to go really badly, but was too afraid to use public bathrooms. His uncle held him and asked why he’d never said anything.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Avery had said. “I’ve already caused you trouble, making you buy food for me and take me places…”
“It’s not a bother at all,” Uncle Brad had told him. “I love you. I want to take care of you. Would you feel better if I went into the restroom with you?”
Avery had shrugged. “I don’t want to make people uncomfortable.”
What Avery really wanted to do was repeat one of the things he’d been told by the phony doctors at conversion therapy; “I don’t blame you any more than I would blame someone with Cancer. Society has fed your generation so many toxic ideas about gender, that it's only natural some of you would stray off the correct path. But that doesn't mean you aren't dangerous. It doesn't mean you shouldn't be dealt with. You are an affront to God, you invade spaces meant for actual men, and you poison society by your simple presence.” Avery wanted to recite that, and ask Uncle Brad if it was true. If he was invading someone else’s space and harming society when he peed in men’s restrooms. The first few times the ‘doctors’ had told him that, Avery had thought they were full of shit. But, when they kept saying it over and over and over… He’d started to believe there must have been truth to it.
But, Avery hadn’t been able to say any of that. He hadn’t been able to force his mouth to form the words that had been drilled into him over and over again. So, instead he’d just said “I can just hold it. It’s fine.”
“Avery, you CAN’T hold it all day every day,” Uncle Brad said. “You’re hurting yourself by doing this.” He’d then ruffled Avery’s hair. “I… I don’t understand everything that you’ve been through and everything that you ARE going through, but I love you. You’re just a person, Avery. And all people need to pee. Please, let me make that a little easier for you?”
Avery had eventually agreed that having someone he trusted in the room with him would help. But, going forward he was still reluctant about saying when he had to go. He now not only felt like he was harming people and invading their space by entering a restroom, but inconveniencing his uncle too by needing him to come with him.
Uncle Brad had ended up needing to pay a lot of attention to Avery for signs that he needed the toilet, like he would to a young kid. Crossed legs, anxious tugs at his hat, lingering a little too long whenever they passed a restroom… When Avery started to do these things, Brad would have to discreetly ask him if he needed to go. To his credit, Avery never denied it, instead he just seemed extremely relieved that he’d been asked and didn’t have to bring it up himself. But, he apologized profusely every time. “Yes! I need to go SO bad!” he’d say. “I’m so sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to drink so much, and I tried to wait. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll drink less now. I’m sorry.”
No matter how many times Brad reassured him that it was okay and he didn’t mind at all, Avery’s frantic apologies and promises to stop being such a burden never ceased. And, once he’d brought Avery to the restroom, he couldn’t help but continue feeling concerned. The very first time, Avery had run to a stall like he was being chased by a swarm of angry hornets, and initially Brad thought he was trying to avoid being noticed by anyone, but then he’d seen the way Avery’s feet danced back and forth beneath the bottom of the door, and a few seconds later he heard Avery’s stream hiss violently and carry on for so, so long… He knew Avery wasn’t just getting scared and trying to get in and out as fast as possible; Avery was also still forcing himself to hold it in until it was hurting him.
So, Brad had changed his strategy. Every couple hours, he’d say “Avery, I’m gonna go use the restroom, do you have to go too?”
And, when he did this, Avery would simply nod and come with him. No apologizing. No assurances that he’d ‘do better’. And, he did it frequently enough that Avery didn’t suffer any desperation. Instead of running into a stall and unleashing a minute and a half long torrent, he’d be able to walk in calmly and his bladder would be empty in just thirty seconds. The problem was solved, but at the same time Brad worried that needing to be escorted to and from the restroom like a little kid was not going to help with Avery’s already terminally low self esteem.
A while later, Avery came home from a day out with his friend Lydia. He looked shaken up about something, so Brad asked what was wrong. Avery explained that he’d needed to pee very, very badly while he’d been out, and had been terrified to relieve himself without Brad there to protect him if something bad happened. Eventually though, Avery said he’d started to have an accident and had had no choice but to hurry to the restroom in order to avoid making a puddle. He explained how stressful it had been, that even though he’d been so desperate to pee that he was dripping in his pants, he’d had a little trouble relaxing enough to actually do it once he was on the toilet. He added how scared he’d been that someone was going to notice he was sitting down to pee and think that it was weird.
“Lots of men sit to pee sometimes,” Uncle Brad had told him. “Some prefer it.”
“I guess…” Avery said. “I just… Wish I didn’t HAVE to, you know? I want to have a choice like everyone else does. I know it’s dumb to care so much about this, but it makes me uncomfortable. It always has.” Avery could remember an incident that happened when he was much younger, where he’d tried to pee standing up at a movie theater and had gotten it all down his legs instead of into the toilet. He’d cried a lot that day and had felt so stupid, struggling to understand himself and why he had all of these weird thoughts and feelings that no one else seemed to have.
The day after that, Avery told Brad that he’d ordered something online so he could go standing up easily. “Just, if it gets delivered and I’m not here, don’t open it, okay? Because it looks like a… Well, you know. And I don’t think you really want to see it.”
Brad had noticed a marked improvement in Avery’s confidence since he’d gotten that item. He was willing to go into public bathrooms alone when the two of them were out now, at least. And Avery looked much more comfortable just in general a lot of the time. Obviously, it WAS helping him feel better and more at home in his body… But, Avery being able to pee how he wanted to, feeling somewhat less scared by public restrooms, and being more comfortable in his skin didn’t do anything to change Liam.
“I have to tell your principal,” Uncle Brad repeated. “You deserve to be able to… To pee when you have to go. That’s a basic human right.”
Avery nodded. Sometimes, against his will, he’d replay moments from his past in his mind. The voices and insults would come to him like crystal clear audio recordings, and then he’d feel like he didn’t deserve to be called a human, and so definitely didn’t deserve to have any basic human rights. It was hard to get rid of those thoughts when they’d embedded themselves so deeply into his skin. It wasn’t easy reminding himself that he counted as a person just as much as anyone else. The memories and the hurt were stuck to his brain now, like they’d been tattooed there.
Ms. Wren the guidance counsellor had told him that the last couple years of Avery’s life, the torment that followed him after he made the mistake of coming out to his parents, had left him traumatized. And this was the reason for his intrusive and upsetting thoughts, frequent nightmares, and hypersensitivity to the reactions of other people. “I’m not qualified to make a diagnosis,” she had said. “But, you are demonstrating a lot of very concerning thought patterns. I would really recommend you speak to someone else about the possibility that you may be dealing with PTSD. There are resources that can help you.”
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Avery was positive he couldn’t really have that. PTSD was what happened to war veterans, not to regular people like him.
The next day, Uncle Brad called the principal of the school, and early in the morning Avery and Liam were both called to the office. Avery sat uncomfortably in his seat. He was uncomfortable for several reasons. One, he didn’t like being in the principal’s office even when he wasn’t in trouble. Two, he didn’t want to discuss this issue anymore and just wanted to forget about it and go back to staying out of Liam’s way. Three, Liam wouldn’t stop shooting him glares. And four, Avery had been just about to head to the restroom when his name was called over the intercom. He’d already been pretty eager to relieve himself as he’d walked towards the bathrooms, and now all the nervousness he was feeling was making him have to go a lot worse.
He felt a great deal of panic now, his legs crossed at the ankles and he jiggled them up and down. He knew Liam was going to be furious with him after this, and if they were both dismissed from the office at the same time, it was inevitable that Liam would follow him. And, even if Liam didn’t do anything to him right away, Avery knew he’d start something if he tried to run straight for the toilet like he wanted to.
Avery folded his arms across his chest and worried at his lip as he tried to look at anything but Liam. ‘Okay,’ he thought. ‘This sucks, but Liam isn’t in your next class. Just hold it until that one’s over and then you should be able to go without a problem.’
“Avery,” Principal Nelson began. “Calm down. You’re not in any trouble.”
Avery didn’t stop fidgeting, because his fear of the principal was only a small part of why he was so antsy.
“Liam,” Principal Nelson began. “I have been told that you assaulted Avery at the carnival, is this true?”
“No,” Liam said.
“Avery’s uncle says you punched him,” Principal Nelson said. “Why would he call me up first thing in the morning to lie?”
“I was defending myself,” Liam said.
Principal Nelson fell silent for a minute, looking between skinny Avery, just barely five feet tall and Liam, six and a half feet of muscle. “You were defending yourself,” he repeated.
“Not to get all politically incorrect,” Liam said. “But, you can’t force me to be okay with having a girl in the bathroom with me. Because, how I see it is like, I’m in there trying to piss, and then all the sudden she’s there staring at my junk.” He gestured to Avery. “She’s always doing that, it’s creepy.”
“I’ve never… I’ve never done that…” Avery said quietly. He uncrossed his legs and jiggled in his chair, fingernails digging harshly into the armrests. He should have just peed really fast before coming here. Principal Nelson wouldn’t have been angry if he was a couple minutes late, right? Especially if Avery told him he’d just been busy relieving himself. He wished once again that he wasn’t always so scared of upsetting people. He wished once again that he wasn’t always so convinced that people were going to be mad at him for simple things that, realistically, they wouldn’t even care the slightest bit about.
But, so many times, people really HAD gotten angry at Avery for things that shouldn’t have mattered. When he was little, they got mad because he cut his own hair short by himself, or refused to wear dresses, or always insisted on dressing as a boy for Halloween. Sometimes, people got extremely mad at him for things that they just made up inside their own heads. Like, when he came out at his old school and the principal THERE accused him of just wanting to watch the guys change before gym. Or, when he told his parents and they said he was just doing this to punish them and that he’d been corrupted by ‘Satanists’ on the Internet. Or, right now, when Liam was pretending he had any sort of interest in watching him in the bathroom.
So, when Avery thought about it that way, it wasn’t so strange he was afraid of making people angry at him, because they often were, and for reasons that didn’t make much sense. His heart hadn’t stopped thrumming since Liam had made his accusation, Avery was scared now that Principal Nelson was going to believe him, he was going to believe Avery was a deviant pervert and that all of this was just an elaborate ruse to look at Liam’s junk. None of it would have any logic behind it, of course, but that hadn’t stopped people before.
Principal Nelson would believe Liam and say Avery can’t go into the restrooms anymore. He tensed his thighs together at the thought, his need to pee taking center stage in his mind again. His legs coiled back around each other, his hands anxiously fluttering around his waist. “I really haven’t done that,” he emphasized. “I don’t know why he’d… Both the times I’ve been in the bathroom at the same time as him, he’s just hit me and stuff…”
“I know that you’ve never done that,” Principal Nelson said, taking Avery by surprise. At his old school, the people in charge never took his side. Even if they’d stood right there and watched as someone beat him, they still told Avery he’d provoked it and that it was his own fault.
Feeling that the principal here had his back made Avery feel a little more relaxed. Some of the tension began to ease away from his body… Maybe a little too much, though, because a second after the tightness knotting his back and shoulders went away, he felt a harsh weight against the exit of his bladder; Pee right at the very edge of coming out. He gripped onto his bouncing knees and squeezed his eyes shut. His thighs rubbed together, trying to keep the leak at bay. But, none of it was enough, a rush of heat bloomed between his legs as a tiny jet of urine squirted out.
Finally, the spasm passed with no more leaks following the first. But, now that he’d let a teeny portion of the burden out, his urethra was burning with the need to release the rest of it. Principal Nelson was talking to Liam now; “Liam. You have been targeting Avery for months, singling him out specifically because he’s trans. I know for a fact that all he wanted to do that day was use the restroom just like anyone else, which he has the right to do…”
Avery tried to tune him out. He was grateful that Nelson was defending him like this, but listening to someone talk about how he deserved to be allowed to pee while he was fighting so hard not to pee in his pants wasn’t easy. Principal Nelson was well known around school for his tendency to ramble on and on and on. Whenever he came on stage in the auditorium, everyone groaned because they knew they were going to be stuck for at least another half hour.
Avery looked all around the room, trying to occupy his mind with something other than the constant, painful throbbing taking place inside his bladder. There were posters in Principal Nelson’s office… Some of those motivational ones that Avery only really ever saw in internet memes.
The one behind the desk was of a huge waterfall that Avery could practically hear roaring. Even though it was just a photograph and didn’t move, Avery’s brain was playing tricks on him and making it seem as though the liquid was really pouring down and crashing against itself. His legs scissored themselves back and forth frantically as he imagined that his stream striking the urinal was probably going to look a lot like that waterfall.
Below the photo of the waterfall was bold text reading ‘ENDURANCE’, and then some smaller text below it that Avery couldn’t quite see… Avery was certainly having his endurance tested right now…
“She’s not supposed to be in there,” Liam was saying. “There are biological reasons for having separate bathrooms. If she can’t use a urinal, then she doesn’t belong in the men’s bathroom.”
Avery chewed on his lip even more, beginning to taste the metallic tang of his blood. He didn’t understand why that mattered to Liam at all. Being able to pee in a urinal mattered to Avery because doing so made him feel more comfortable in his body. But that was the thing; It was HIS body, not Liam’s. So, why did HE care how Avery relieved himself?
But, additionally, Avery felt like snapping at Liam that he actually COULD use a urinal, and he’d be MORE than happy to prove that to him right now. He did end up blurting the first part out, but managed to stop himself before offering to relieve his bladder in front of Liam. “I— Actually, I can do that…” He said, his voice getting softer and softer. He wasn’t only having a hard time talking because Liam was intimidating and was saying things that deeply hurt. He was also having a hard time talking because he swore he could feel his bladder swelling so much it was almost touching the back of his throat now. He seriously felt like he was going to vomit, and he wasn’t sure if the nerves or the desperation were more to blame for the sudden nausea.
“Prove it,” Liam said.
Avery was so dizzy and out of his mind with the need to empty himself out that his piss-addled brain instantly seized on this as an opportunity for relief and he got to his feet without even really realizing what he was doing.
“That will not be necessary,” Principal Nelson interrupted. “Liam, I would really like to believe the students at this school possess a lot more maturity than what you’re showing to me now. How and where Avery urinates is no business of yours…”
Principal Nelson kept talking and Avery found himself unable to sit back down in his chair. He’d started to rock back and forth on his feet and it was helping a great deal with his need. If he sat back down, he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore and he was now convinced that if he stopped his desperate, urgent hopping even for a second his bladder would crack wide open and piss would spray everywhere. He tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He stood up straight to try giving his bladder more room, then doubled over as it cramped inside of him.
As Principal Nelson carried on and Liam kept arguing, Avery could no longer hear them. All he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as alarm bells rang up and down his entire body. He felt so frantic and out of control, and he wasn’t even sure when it had started, but he was leaking little spurts of pee every few seconds.
“…a one week suspension, and a ban on after school functions. And you’re lucky that’s all you’re getting,” Principal Nelson was saying. “One more incident like this, and we’ll have to take more drastic measures.” He dismissed Liam. Once Liam had left, Nelson turned to Avery and his expression softened. “I’m very sorry that— Oh, please sit back down. No need to be so nervous.”
Avery kept jiggling in his spot, his hips twisting. Now that Liam was gone he felt slightly more comfortable admitting to his need… But, not comfortable enough. Nelson was still the principal, and the thought of telling the principal he was about to wet his pants embarrassed him to no end. “I— Um… I—“
“Are you alright, Avery?”
Avery was very far from alright. A lot of the things Liam had said, the constant misuse of pronouns, the idiotic accusations… They had cut him deeply, and he knew that once his bladder was no longer attempting to violently claw its way through his abdomen, the memories of everything Liam had said about him today were going to really start to sting. “I… I…”
“Don’t let him get to you,” Nelson said. “I know a lot of people have hurt you, Avery. But, there are better ones out there, you just need to find them.”
A long, long spurt of pee rolled down Avery’s leg. “Nnnhhh…” He’d been trying his best to find those ‘better’ people, but it seemed that for every person who was good to him, like Uncle Brad or Lydia or Principal Nelson, there were five more who were cruel.
“Don’t cry,” Nelson said. “Try not to cry.”
Avery blinked his eyes a few times, but didn’t feel tears. He may have been leaking a lot of liquid right now, but not from his eyes. “I’m… Not…I just—“
“You’re shaking,” Nelson said. “Do you need a few minutes? Take as much time as you need. If you need to talk to me about anything right now—“
“I— I need to go to the restroom,” Avery blurted out in a panic as yet another leak began to drizzle out of him. “Really bad.”
“… Oh,” Nelson said. “I… Apologize. Were you called here before you could go?“
“…Yes,” Avery admitted, feeling himself start to blush all over. He really hadn’t meant to tell Nelson what he needed, but that last uncontainable spurt had just caused his mouth to work on its own.
“I’m sorry,” Nelson reiterated, opening a drawer in his desk. “That must have made all that talk even harder for you… I didn’t realize… I thought you were just nervous and upset, otherwise I would have—“
“It’s an emergency,” Avery said, before clenching his jaw. Interrupting the principal was surely not something he should ever do! He just… Really couldn’t control his mouth when he needed the toilet this badly, could he? “Sorry,” he squeaked. He wished Nelson would finish talking to him so he could try to get to a bathroom before he completely lost it. Where was the closest one? He’d have to walk down two corridors… Oh, he hoped he could make that!
“I understand,” Principal Nelson said. He retrieved something from the desk drawer. “When I was in school, I was called to the office once because someone had thrown a rock at one of the windows of the cafeteria. I hadn’t done it, but the lunch workers said they saw someone in a red jacket do it, and that’s what I had on that day, so they had to talk to me. The principal of my school had an awful habit of rambling and carrying on, and after a while I had the most atrocious need for the bathroom…”
Avery tried his hardest not to listen and to somehow will Nelson into finishing his speech and telling him he could finally leave. After a few more minutes, a ferocious bolt of need pummeled into his bladder, hands-down the worst spasm he’d ever felt in his life, and what came out then wasn’t a leak, but a stream. It lasted for several seconds and when Avery managed to clamp it off he exclaimed “I’m wetting myself!!” unable to hold back the panicked admission any more than he could hold back his urine. He didn’t even have the energy left to feel embarrassed by what he’d said, or worried because he’d interrupted the principal again. There was absolutely nothing in his brain apart from the monotonous agonized litany of ‘I NEED TO PEE! I NEED TO PEE! I NEED TO PEE!’
“Oh!” Nelson said. “Sorry…” He then stepped out from around his desk, holding the object he’d taken from the drawer which Avery now recognized as a key. Nelson reached the door in the corner of the room which Avery thought was a supply closet.
‘Oh, God, if he wants me to help him carry something…’ Avery thought with dread.
But, when Nelson opened the door, instead of an assortment of junk, Avery saw a sink and a toilet.
“Feel free t—“
Avery rushed into the room, hand already at his zip. He quickly shut the door behind himself as he tugged his zipper down noisily. He was grateful he’d been convinced this was a supply closet all through that meeting. If he’d been forced to endure it while knowing a toilet was THIS close to him he would have burst for sure.
Avery was peeing violently before he could aim, his stream spattering the rim of the bowl before he corrected it. Pee loudly slammed into the water as it exploded from Avery’s body. “Haaahhh…. Haahhhh….” Avery struggled to catch his breath. He hadn’t realized how choppy and short his breathing had gotten while he’d still been holding on, and now he felt a tad light-headed. He tried to stop sighing and moaning so much, mindful that the principal of his school could probably hear every sound that fell from his lips, as well as the incredibly forceful hiss of his stream. But, Avery couldn’t stop vocalizing his relief. “Haaaahhhh…. That’s so good…”
As his stream carried on and the release began to feel slightly less amazing, Avery felt tears actually form in the corners of his eyes. He wondered how many people looked at him and thought the exact same things Liam did, but just didn’t say them. How many other people thought he was a joke, or a deviant, or just a girl playing pretend… He only looked like a guy because he flattened his curves away with special undergarments. He only sounded like a guy some of the time if he tried really hard not to let his voice squeak. He only peed like a guy because he’d bought a funnel device off of the internet. Underneath all of that, he was just a stupid girl dressing up, wasn’t he?
Avery’s pee finally stopped flowing and he was at last empty, he shook himself off and zipped up. When he washed his hands off he flung some water into his face as well, trying to cover up the tears. After he’d left the bathroom, he apologized to Nelson for interrupting so much and then kind of slamming the door in his face when he was in such a rush to get to the toilet. Nelson said it was okay, and that if Avery ever had problems with a bully keeping him using the school toilets, he could go straight to the office and use the toilet there, and Nelson would handle the situation.
It should have made Avery feel better, but it didn’t. He wished he didn’t need the principal to promise he could use the office toilet whenever he had to go, it just reminded him that he wasn’t like everyone else.
His bladder was so sore that, for the rest of the day, Avery ended up needing to pee between every class. He felt scared using the men’s rooms and almost just walked back to the office each time to take Nelson up on the offer. But, he reminded himself that Liam was suspended and he didn’t have to worry about him, and he kept going to the men’s room at the old end of the school that hardly anyone ever used. The long walk made him late a couple times, but he didn’t have it in him to care. Having to listen to someone go on and on about how much they hated him and everything that he was all while his body forced him to withstand intense physical pain had sapped away all of Avery’s energy.
After school, he walked with Lydia to the subway station. “What’s with you?” Lydia asked. “You’re so quiet.”
Avery recounted his adventure in the principal’s office, he didn’t even bother to leave out the detail that he’d been on the verge of pissing his pants the entire time, he just had to tell someone how it— how ALL of it— had made him feel.
“But, you’re NOT a girl playing dress up,” Lydia said. “You’re more of a man than Liam is, that’s for sure.”
Avery snorted. What a ridiculous thing to say. Liam was tough. He was covered in muscles. He must have needed to shave three times a week. His voice was gruff and deep. He was tall and at least half the girls in school had a crush on him. He was everything a man was supposed to be and everything Avery wasn’t.
“It’s true,” Lydia said. “A real man doesn’t pick on someone half their size like a coward. Real men fight for important things instead, like you do.”
“I don’t do that,” Avery said. “I don’t fight. I just let things happen.”
“You do fight,” Lydia insisted. “You wouldn’t be who you are today if you hadn’t fought at least a little. Maybe it’s hard for you to do it, but that just means that when you do, you’re extra tough. Or at least, that’s what I think.”
Avery leaned in and hugged her. It was awkward, but Lydia was happy to see he was feeling better.
“And, don’t ever say you’re just a girl playing pretend,” Lydia whispered. “You and I both know that’s not true.” Avery’s grip on her became tighter for a moment. |
Avery’s class was going on an overnight trip to Washington DC, and he was mostly looking forward to it. He was dreading the long ride there, which was supposed to take around four hours. He was also a little worried about sharing a hotel room with some of the other guys in his class. He was not going to be able to bring himself to unzip his binder while he slept with them around, which meant he was probably going to have a sore back come morning. And there was no way in Hell he was going to remove his prosthetic and stash it somewhere for the night either, which was sure to cause a bit of itchiness around his crotch area the next day.
There was also the issue of showering. Yes, there was going to be a door, and that door was going to be locked tight, but he’d still have to… Take everything apart with them on the other side of that door. Even if they couldn’t see him, he knew they’d probably be thinking about it. When his secret had been exposed at school, some shunned him, some supported him, and some were just way too interested.
He doubted that his teachers were going to assign him to a room with someone they knew was cruel to him, and he knew that they at least tended to do a good job of paying attention to which students were bullies. But, he didn’t think they’d know which guys were overly curious about Avery. Because, while outright bullying could be obvious, this other behavior could be more subtle.
Just, small comments, or very quick touches that no one but Avery ever noticed… In the beginning, when Avery was still such a ‘novelty’, some guy he didn’t even know had actually asked him “So, are they big?” and it had been so out of the blue Avery didn’t even know what he was talking about. But, the guy had continued, and then it was obvious. “If you’re getting rid of them, have you ever thought about letting someone play around with them first? Just so you know you’re not missing out on anything.”
Avery hadn’t known what to say to that. He wanted to just punch the guy. Who the Hell says something like that to ANYONE? He was lucky that Lydia was nearby and had heard. He was lucky that his athletic best friend could be pretty freaking intimidating when she wanted to be.
And then, of course, there was the interest in what Avery had between his legs. Avery changed in the coach’s office before gym, but now that he had a prosthetic, whenever he wore shorts he did have a bulge. Not a huge one, he was always so careful to adjust everything just right. He’d read horror stories on the Internet about how packers could sometimes make it look like a person had a constant boner, and that was not something he ever wanted to have happen.
But, it was still noticeable that something was there. And, for a while, some guys— some girls too— would… Look. They weren’t even subtle about it, either. They literally just stared right between his legs, causing him to tug his shirt down to try and cover himself up. He didn’t freaking get it, if he were a cis guy, he didn’t think all these people would be so interested in how his cock rested inside his shorts. They wouldn’t care. But, just because he was trans, what he had there just had to be SO interesting. Once, some guy even brushed his hand over Avery’s crotch for a moment when they were supposed to be exercising together. It had been so brief and fleeting that Avery tried convincing himself it must have been an accident, and that if he said anything he would just be overreacting.
He wasn’t that sure though.
Avery was sure he didn’t have to worry about sharing a hotel room with someone like Liam, but he also had to hope that he didn’t get stuck with someone that just found him way too fascinating. Uncle Brad would be coming along as a chaperone, though. Avery was confident that Brad wouldn’t allow anyone to act that way towards him.
The day of the trip, Avery sat beside Lydia and his uncle on the school bus. Avery wished his uncle had a car and could have driven them himself, but Brad had told him he didn’t really need one since the subway was always faster. Avery knew that was true, he’d never seen so much traffic in one place before he’d come to New York— Which was kind of weird when he thought about it, because it seemed that very few people who lived there really drove unless they operated a bus or taxi…
Avery was glad his uncle was beside him on the bus, because Liam was in the seat in front of him. He felt confident that Liam wouldn’t bother him now.
The ride was fairly uneventful for a while. Avery watched out the window at the passing scenery, he played some games on his phone, he talked to Lydia and Brad… He tried to ignore the sound of Liam’s voice up ahead as he talked to one of his friends, Ron. Avery was ashamed that Liam’s voice alone could make him feel nervous, but it did. Even though Liam wasn’t talking about him at all…
Liam did say something that managed to make Avery a little uncomfortable, and it hadn’t been on purpose at all. Liam just suddenly stopped mid-sentence and groaned; “God, aren’t we ever going to STOP” I need to fucking piss!”
And, hearing Liam mention pissing of course made Avery think about the day he’d had an accident. Which made him think about the confrontation in the principal’s office. Which made him think about how long he’d already been on this bus for. Which made him think about how the pee he’d had earlier that morning had been hours ago now.
Which made him realize that he needed to go.
And now that he’d noticed his urge, it suddenly felt a lot more pressing.
Avery heard Ron say something to Liam, but he couldn’t hear what exactly. When Avery looked down at his feet, he noticed from beneath the seat ahead of him that Liam’s were tapping against the floor. Looked like he hadn’t been exaggerating, he really did have to go…
A little piece of Avery was happy to see that Liam was clearly distressed by his bladder. Avery remembered all the times he’d been walking to the restroom at school, but saw Liam reach it before him. Every time, Avery would just turn around and resolve to hold it through his next class instead of risking a confrontation. And, every time, Avery would wriggle and stare at the clock as he waited for the bell. Avery thought about the two times Liam had physically harmed him when all he’d wanted to do was relieve his aching bladder. Liam DID deserve to have to endure a bit of pressure and fullness right now…
But, Avery couldn’t really take that much delight in it. He couldn’t snicker or think to himself how funny it would be if Liam ended up not making it. He couldn’t hope that there would be NO stops along this journey or that they’d hit traffic so that Liam would be forced to wait as long as possible. He couldn’t wish for something to delay Liam from reaching a toilet.
Because, anything that would delay Liam from getting to a restroom right now would also delay Avery. And, as Avery began to bounce a knee, he thought that a delay was not something he really needed at the moment. His need had grown quite a bit in intensity after he’d noticed it and had started to focus his mind on it. He knew that was the absolute worst thing he should be doing. He didn’t know when his next toilet break would be, he should NOT be thinking so much about peeing. He was only going to make himself need that break a lot worse if he did that.
But, he couldn’t exactly help it. It was hard NOT to think about pee when he could feel a whole of it pushing hard against his sphincter. It was hard NOT to think about pee when every little bump in the road made the pee inside him slosh and roll within his bladder… He crossed his legs at the ankles and flexed his thighs. This helped a little, but his need for a urinal was still impossible to ignore.
He took his gaze away from Liam’s still bouncing feet and looked out the window. The street outside continued to zoom by, so at least there wasn’t any traffic. He didn’t see any gas stations out there at the moment, though… And he didn’t know if the bus was ever going to stop at one, anyway.
Avery nibbled on his lip. He wished he could just have some sort of time estimate for how long it was going to be until he got relief. If he knew he’d be peeing in half an hour, then he wouldn’t have a reason to worry. He could probably make it another full hour before it got all THAT bad… But there were at least TWO hours left in the drive, and he knew that if he had to make it through all that time without any opportunity to drain his bladder out, he’d be in trouble.
He started to fiddle with the brim of his hat. The last time he’d peed had been right after he’d woken up that morning. He really should have gone again at school before he’d gotten on the bus just in case. He’d tried to, actually. But… he’d seen Liam go into the restroom. Avery had even tried to do the smart thing and go use the bathroom in the principal’s office, he’d already been told he could use it whenever he had to go, after all. Except, when he turned to head that way they were already telling people to start getting on the bus, and Avery hadn’t wanted to make everyone wait while he ran to the other end of the school for a quick pee!
Now, as he sat in his seat and tried very, very hard not to think about urinating, he knew he’d made the wrong choice in not just going for it.
Lydia, whom had been talking to Brad, turned around to face Avery. He saw now that her legs were crossed a bit as well. It looked… Mostly casual, but he wasn’t sure… “Avery?” she asked. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
Avery tugged at his hat and whispered to her, “Um… Do you know if we’re going to stop anywhere? I… Uh… Kind of need to… You know…” He knew he must have been blushing.
Lydia shook her head, frowning. “I don’t think so, not unless we end up needing gas…” One of her knees started to bounce, and that definitely WASN’T casual. She had to go too, he was sure of it.
It probably made him an awful person and friend, but knowing she was in the same boat as him actually made Avery feel a little better. “Do you know how much further?” he whispered back.
“A—A while,” Lydia said. “I think we’re halfway there now?” Her legs uncoiled from each other, only for her to quickly tie them back together in the other direction. There was sweat on her brow, and that alarmed Avery a little. Lydia was so tough and strong… She must have been really uncomfortable!
That… Honestly made Avery feel a little protective. Lydia had helped him out of tight spots with his bladder lots of times, as embarrassing as all those incidents may have been. He wanted to help her, too. The fact that doing so would also get HIM to a toilet quicker was a nice bonus, of course.
Avery didn’t want to go up front and request a stop. He’d probably be told ‘no’ anyway. At his old school, whenever they took long field trips like this, if a student got desperate and asked for the bus driver to find a gas station, the answer was always ‘no’.
But, maybe if someone who the bus driver saw as more of an ‘equal’ asked… Avery leaned over Lydia, fighting not to whimper as the waistband of his jeans compressed hard against his bladder. It felt like he was being squeezed by a boa constrictor, and his hips shimmied needfully. “Unc—Uncle Brad?” he said.
Uncle Brad turned to him. Avery saw that he was actually a little tense, too.. Brad’s nails were digging into the material of the seat, holding tight. “Yes, Avery?” he asked.
“I… Um… I need to ‘go’,” Avery said. “Could you ask them to stop, please?”
“Sure thing,” Uncle Brad said, and when he stood his legs shook, like he was attempting to walk during an earthquake. Judging by the way his eyes widened and his cheeks puffed up as he blew out a pained gust of air, Avery didn’t think his unsteadiness had much to do with being onboard a moving vehicle.
“Mmh,” Lydia made a low, nervous sound as her legs bounced. She crossed her arms over her chest, each hand holding the opposite arm in a vice grip. “I really hope they stop…”
Liam’s head poked out over the seat in front of them. Avery had never seen it so pink and flushed before… He’d never seen the guy so sweaty, either. “Oh, are they stopping?” he asked.
“M—My uncle’s asking them to,” Avery said quietly. He hated that, by helping Lydia and himself out, he was also inadvertently helping Liam. Liam didn’t deserve to be helped, by anyone.
As if to confirm Avery’s low opinion of him, Liam pretended as if Avery hadn’t spoken. “Lydia? Are they gonna stop?”
“His uncle’s asking,” Lydia said, and Avery was grateful for the edge in her voice. The sharp, warning tone that Avery could never manage to find in himself.
“Oh, thank God…” Liam said. “I’m DYING to stretch my legs.”
Avery snorted then, and winced when it sent a pang of need through his bladder, but he couldn’t help it.
“The Hell are you laughing at?” Liam asked, seemingly not noticing the way he was bouncing up and down in his seat now. “I’d watch it if I was you, your little bodyguards aren’t gonna be around you forever.”
Any humor Avery saw in Liam’s squirming and denials of his blatantly obvious need evaporated like water on a hot skillet. He shrank back, returned to staring out the window. His heart thundered at Liam’s threat, each beat of it bouncing against his still-filling bladder. His legs moved as if he was peddling a bicycle.
“Liam, what is your problem?” Lydia asked.
“Oh, naturally the freak needs a girl to fight her battles,” Liam said. “… You ARE a girl, right? A real one?”
“As opposed to what? A doll?”
“I’m just saying, girls don’t usually have fucking biceps like that,” Liam said. “If it wasn’t for your tits being so huge, I’d swear you were— Oh, speaking of those, you should really uncross your arms. You’re blocking the view.”
There was heat inside of Avery now. It was a somewhat unfamiliar feeling to him. Sometimes he thought that there was something wrong with him, like when God was giving everyone their emotions He somehow messed up when it came time to give Avery ‘anger’. Avery would experience things that he knew SHOULD have made him angry at someone else, but instead all of that rage would turn instantly on himself. It was like he just COULDN’T get angry at other people, like whatever switch in his brain was supposed to activate that had been torn out and broken.
But, now he felt it. He felt that same simmering hatred and revulsion that he often felt for himself when someone had bullied him or he’d relived one of his experiences from that awful ‘therapy’ center. Only now it wasn’t himself that he hated. It wasn’t himself that he was disgusted by. It was Liam. “Liam, shut the fuck up! The only freak here is you!”
Lydia, whom had been partway out of her seat to shout at Liam herself, froze. Her hips even paused in their desperate twitching. She stared at Avery. Avery NEVER yelled, and he rarely cursed… This was a good thing, though. This should be encouraged.
Liam’s face turned stoney. “Watch your back,” he warned.
“Liam,” Avery heard Ron say quietly. “Just let it go…”
Liam turned back around, sat back down in his seat, and began a heated, whispered argument with his friend.
Avery’s stomach knotted and twisted over on itself, and his bladder along with it. An incredibly violent spasm tore through his core and he moaned as he tensed his thighs up over and over again. He’d been so angry he’d forgotten about his bladder, but his bladder sure hadn’t forgotten about him. He shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t have yelled. He was so scared now, and his ‘urge’ to use the restroom was quickly becoming a very intense ‘need’. Not even watching as his bully’s feet tapped around in all directions and crossed over each other could make Avery feel better.
He hoped Uncle Brad had convinced the driver to stop. And he knew that, if the stop DID come, Avery would be clinging to his uncle the whole time.
Uncle Brad came back, and Avery could tell immediately by the nervous look on his face that a stop was NOT coming. “I—I’m sorry, Avery,” Brad said. “They told me we have a tight schedule since they want to make it in time for the reservation where they’re taking you for dinner. But, they promised that everyone will be able to use the restroom first thing once we’re at the hotel.”
Avery nodded miserably. “H—How much further?”
“About an hour and a half,” Brad said apologetically. “I’m very sorry.” He began to bounce a knee. “If it makes you feel any better, I need to go pretty bad myself.”
It did make Avery feel better, just not for the reason Brad thought. If Brad was dying to piss too, that meant he’d definitely accompany Avery into the restroom to keep him safe, and he wouldn’t just be standing there off to the side and doing nothing. It wouldn’t look weird. It wouldn’t be obvious he was just Avery’s ‘little bodyguard’ as Liam had put it.
It was going to be okay. They’d get to the hotel, and find the men’s room in the lobby as fast as possible. Avery would rush in with his uncle. Avery was going to have to use the urinal right next to Brad's, and remain stuck to him like glue as they washed their hands. It would be the only way he’d feel safe in there now that Liam was so furious…
It was going to be okay. Uncle Brad would protect Avery, and Avery would get to pee. Yeah, Avery was going to get to pee in just about ninety minutes. Avery was going to get to pee and it was going to feel so good. He’d be able to let all this nauseating pressure go. He’d be able to let it all dissipate and flood from him. He’d be able to relax, if only for a couple minutes, as his bladder loosened and sprayed out its heavy burden…
Hss—!
Avery’s daydream was just a little too vivid, and he felt something squirt between his legs. The panicky, wild pounding of his heart ramped up again and he strained against the cushion he was seated on. His legs bounced faster and faster, jostling the entire seat. He didn’t realize how much he was jiggling until he heard Lydia groan.
He looked at her, his eyes flicked down to her lap where her hands were now tucked between her legs. Immediately he looked away and up at her face, blushing. “Pl—Please, don’t bounce me around like that now…” she moaned.
“I—I’m sorry,” Avery said. He hadn’t meant to do that. He just had to go so badly that he couldn’t keep still! He was doing his best not to thrash so violently, but the pulses from within his bladder were absolutely relentless. His bladder was practically BEGGING him to get squirming again. ‘Please, please?’ it seemed to whine. ‘Please? That was helping so much!’
He eventually drew his legs up onto the seat with him and tucked his feet underneath himself, trying to sit on them in such a way that they plugged up his opening. Then, he began to simply rock. Very, very slightly… This was working, some of the horrific, ear-piercing wails of his bladder were quieting down now. He lowered his voice and miserably said, “I have got to go so bad…”
“I know…” Lydia whimpered in response. “I don’t care if we’re late to dinner… I just want a bathroom…” Even if making a pit stop caused them to be so late for their reservation that they couldn’t eat at all, she would gladly skip a meal if it meant she could just… Just sit down on a toilet and RELAX for a minute. She couldn’t stop fantasizing about long rows of restroom stalls, of how sweet it would be to hear the scraping sound as she drew the lock into place, of how quickly she’d tear her pants down, of how her pee would blast out of her as soon as she’d made contact with the seat…
And, because she couldn’t stop thinking about that, she couldn’t stop letting out little drips of pee into her clothes, either. She wanted to tell Avery’s uncle to please go ask AGAIN and explain it was an emergency, but when she turned to look at him she knew that whatever they’d said to him had made it clear there was no room to negotiate.
Because, if Brad believed that there was a chance he could convince the driver to stop, he would definitely be up there RIGHT now doing exactly that. She remembered how surprising it had been that day in the elevator with Avery, to see someone her own age so clearly on the verge of an accident. But, it was even MORE surprising to see someone that was MUCH older than her gripping themselves, crossing their legs, and struggling to breathe as they fought not to pee in their pants.
“M—Mister…” Lydia began. She was never quite sure what to call Brad. She knew ‘Mister Reynolds’ made Avery think too much of his dad, whom was someone he didn’t like thinking about at all. But it felt strange to call him by his first name, too. “Um… Are you alright?”
“I’m not, honestly,” Brad said. Lydia liked Brad, it was interesting how he and Avery were opposites in a lot of ways. Brad never hid anything, he was an open book, and very laid back a lot of the time. He was not a bundle of nerves, painful secrets and hidden fears like Avery was. “I… Don’t think I’ve had to go this bad since my partying days in college… Sorry if…” He tried to gesture to himself, but both hands were glued firmly to his crotch. “Sorry if I look… Weird right now. I promise, I can’t help it.”
“It’s… Okay,” Lydia managed. “Let’s try and distract ourselves, maybe?”
Avery groaned and tipped his head back. He didn’t think ANYTHING could distract him anymore. “Please say we’re almost there…”
“I think we are,” his uncle tried to assure him. “H—Hang in there, I know it’s… It’s not easy.”
Avery, at last no longer able to stop himself, wedged his hands right between his legs. He was sure he looked ridiculous now, sitting on his feet, curled over, hands straining against his crotch… But, if he didn’t do those things, he would surely end up looking a lot MORE ridiculous when his pee burst forth from his bladder and ran in long, hissing rivulets down his legs. He bounced once, then three more times very, very rapidly. His eyes flicked down for a second and he no longer saw Liam’s feet. He wondered if maybe his bully was in a similar position to his own now…
As if on cue he heard a loud groan from up ahead. “God, this is bullshit!” Liam declared. “Ron, do you have a bottle?”
Avery went suddenly rigid. No. Please. God, no. If Liam managed to find a container to piss into here, it would… It would hiss and splatter, and Avery would hear every last drop of it while he just had to keep holding, and… And he’d burst! If he had to listen to Liam piss here he would completely explode and flood the seat, he couldn’t handle it, he couldn’t, he couldn’t—
“Sorry, man,” he heard Ron say.
Avery breathed a small puff of air through his nose. It would have actually been classed as a sigh of relief had he not still been holding back half his own body weight in piss.
“The Hell am I gonna do, then?” Liam asked, as if it was somehow Ron’s fault that he needed a bathroom so badly and the bus wouldn’t stop. As if Ron should have anticipated this and just KNOWN to bring along an empty bottle.
“I don’t know,” Ron said, annoyance in his voice. “But, seriously, if I HAD a bottle, I’D be the one using it.”
“The Hell you would,” Liam replied irritably.
Avery tried to take solace in the knowledge that Liam was no doubt beginning to freak out by now. Liam must have been feeling a lot of pain, just like he was. Liam must have been really, really struggling to hold back his flood. Avery tried to be happy about that, tried to remind himself that taking joy in Liam’s suffering did not make him a bad person. Liam deserved this, after all. And it was only natural.
Yeah. A person being happy when someone they hated had something bad happen to them was normal. There was even a word for that. Avery had learned it in German class. What was it? Oh, right. ‘Schadenfreude’, being happy with another’s misfortune. What were some other German words Avery knew?
Avery tried to recite them all to himself, tried to fill his brain with something other than piss. It worked for a while, focusing his mind on something that required his concentration helped put his incredibly dire need for the toilet on the back burner for a bit. But, then he remembered the word ‘Pinkeln’, and his concentration shattered after that. He was unable to piece it back together, either. He’d thought about peeing again, and now he absolutely could not STOP thinking about peeing.
He thought about peeing into toilets, he thought about peeing into urinals. He thought about peeing on a bush, he thought about peeing all over a bed of flowers. He thought about peeing against trees and walls, he thought about peeing into bottles. He thought about jumping out the window and just peeing on the side of the road. Most of all, though, he thought about peeing in his pants, because he felt PAINFULLY close to doing exactly that.
“Lydia…” Avery grunted out, unsure of what he wanted to say to her, unsure of what he wanted her to do. Just… She was his friend, and friends helped each other, and he needed help REALLY bad right now. “Lydia…” he repeated, and it was like her name was becoming synonymous with ‘I’m about to wet myself!’
Lydia had already been watching him. She wasn’t sure who here was the most desperate. She felt like her own bladder was beginning to tear apart, like even the loose fit of her sweat pants was too tight for its bloated form. Brad was doubled over on himself and scissoring his legs back and forth. Avery had pretty much been in a fetal position for a while… “Are… Are you…”
“I’m not okay,” Avery interrupted. “I think I’m going to have an accident.”
Lydia winced. If Avery flooded himself, if she heard his pee gush and spill out of him, her own bladder was sure to follow. “Y—You can do it,” she tried to encourage him. “I’ve seen you hold longer than this before.”
Avery knew she was right. He had held it MUCH longer than this before, and he’d MADE it. But, this time he also had to deal with the literally torturous bumps in the road and the way they all made his bladder lurch and spasm and squeeze in on itself. “Please, just tell me we’re close…”
Brad slowly drew himself out of his hunched pose. It hurt greatly, he could actually feel the way his skin pulled itself taut against the straining boulder of his well-past-full bladder. He looked past Avery out the window. “W—We are close,” he said, more than a hint of relief in his own voice. “We’re very close.”
Avery hoped his uncle was telling the truth, that he wasn’t just trying to placate Avery to make him feel better. ‘Mind over matter’ really couldn’t work for him anymore. Convincing his brain that he was close to a bathroom would make no difference to his bladder unless it was actually true. His bladder was full. Beyond full, really. And unless he had SOMEWHERE to drain it in the next half hour, it would burst.
Avery breathed a little more easily when the bus started to coil back and forth through several streets. No longer moving straight down a highway. That had to mean they were close to the hotel, right?
He was right. Before long, they’d pulled up to a hotel, and Avery could have cried with relief. He was going to make it! He was actually going to make it!
One of the teachers stood up, and said that everyone was to exit the bus back to front, and this was more good news to Avery. He was going to be one of the first ones off, one of the first ones to FINALLY get to a toilet. He and Lydia actually had to kind of help each other stand up. Their legs had fallen asleep after hours of tension and staying in one place, and the sudden shift in gravity made both of their bladders ache and roll.
Brad gently got to his feet and followed them, he made himself pause beside the teacher. Pause was, perhaps, not the right word. Because Brad absolutely could not stand still. He hopped frantically from foot to foot, and his hands were shoved into his pocket as he held onto himself in a way he hoped was at least a little discreet. He whispered; “I’ve got to take my nephew to the restroom right away, is that okay? He’s having an emergency.”
The teacher looked at Brad. Brad knew she could tell Avery was not the only one of them that was having an emergency right now. “That’s fine,” she said. “So long as you keep track of him and Lydia.”
“Thank you,” Brad managed to rush out before hurrying off the bus. Avery and Lydia hobbled after him, and the next few minutes passed in a blur. They got through the doors of the hotel and into the lobby. Then, stood there desperately squirming until Brad saw the signs for the restrooms and they tore off in that direction.
Lydia ripped open the door to the women’s room and dove into the closest stall. Her bladder shrieked with wild frenzy and her holding muscles crumpled and withered at the sight of the toilet, making her leak in earnest. She shoved one hand back between her legs and used the other to lock the stall, noisily clattering the metal thing into place, just as she’d fantasized about doing. Then, just as in her daydream, she yanked her pants down. But, unlike in her earlier imaginings, she did not start peeing the second she’d sat down. She started peeing a couple seconds before then, a gush hitting the seat as she threw herself onto it.
But, she didn’t care. It hadn’t landed in her pants, at least. And, now she was on a toilet, and it was all over, and that was all that mattered. Pee hissed into the bowl below her loud enough to echo in the empty room, and her ecstatic sigh of relief bounced off the walls. “Ohhhhhh….!”
Then, she heard the door to the room opening and some of her classmates beginning to rush in. Stalls banged open and shut, and some groaned as they realized they now had to wait in line. Lydia made herself go quiet as she felt heat filling her cheeks. She sure hoped none of them had heard her making that noise…
Meanwhile, Avery and Brad hurried into the men’s room. Avery had started to unzip his pants before the door had even swung shut behind them, and… God, he’d never been so happy to see a row of three urinals before… Brad rushed to one of them and Avery heard him loudly yank down his zipper as he took the one beside him and readied himself.
Pee shot out of Avery and slammed into the porcelain urinal. He started to shiver. “Hff… Hfff…” he panted, blinking rapidly. He hadn’t even noticed he’d begun to tear up until now… His vision cleared and it was almost like he’d needed a moment to visually confirm that this was actually finally happening. He was peeing, and not into his pants. And… God, that felt good…
The euphoria of Brad’s release managed to rip a low moan from his throat. “Ahhhh…” He hadn’t come that close to an accident in a very, very long time. He’d actually been starting to get pretty worried there… When some of the fogginess of his desperation cleared, he noticed that Avery had chosen to go RIGHT beside him. He wondered if he needed to let Avery know some of the unspoken rules about men’s rooms, like not taking the urinal right next to someone else unless it was the only one open and he couldn’t wait. That was going to be a… kind of unusual conversation But, he supposed it made sense that Avery didn’t know about that. Hopefully he hadn’t done it too often, though.
Avery was so overwhelmed by his relief that he forgot to lean forward to help his STP drain out until he felt a little bit of unwanted warmth building up over his thighs and beginning to move down his leg. Quickly, he clenched his muscles a bit and winced as he slowed his stream down. Then, he tilted forward and let everything flow through the funnel before he let his muscles go totally slack once more.
The weird thing was that calculating how fast he could pee and how far he had to lean over was… Actually kind of fun. He liked being so skilled with his prosthetic now that he could easily figure out how to manage the flow. It made him feel good. Even when he had to make himself stop or slow down midstream to adjust something, he didn’t mind it TOO much.
He was still waiting for the day when being able to watch as his pee arced out and struck whatever he was aiming at would begin to feel more mundane. But, he was starting to think that that day wasn’t ever actually going to come. He was always going to think that this was fun, that this was validating. This was always going to make him feel really, really good.
Especially when he’d been holding it in for so, so long and letting it out felt this amazing…
The door banged open and some of Avery’s classmates began to hurry in. His back stiffened. He’d been hoping he’d finish up before anyone he went to school with came in here. The thing was, other than Uncle Brad and Lydia, he had never stood to pee in front of someone that knew he was trans. Most of his classmates were aware of that fact, and so would assume that Avery couldn’t pee into a urinal, especially not without pulling his jeans all the way down. He preferred to use the bathroom at school when it was empty of other people, or at least when the only person there was someone he was unfamiliar with. If there was someone who knew him in there and he couldn’t wait, he’d go into a stall instead so that he’d have a door for privacy.
Avery tried to go faster, but he was nervous now so he couldn’t manage it. He still really had to go, but his stream was slowing to a dismal trickle that told him he was gonna be there for a while.
Stalls began to lock and others began to unzip at urinals, and nobody was saying anything to Avery. At least not yet. No questions. No peaking. Everyone was only paying attention to themselves. That was good. Avery still couldn’t get his stream to resume its forceful rush. The room was packed now, every urinal and stall occupied, and— And he realized Uncle Brad had finished and wasn’t next to him anymore!
What if Liam came in before he was finished? What if Liam did something and no one was there to protect him!? Avery had to hurry, he had to—
“C—Come the fuck on.”
He heard Liam’s awful voice. The sneer was gone, replaced by a wavering neediness. Clearly, Liam was still desperate to do what Avery was trying to finish doing. Avery’s body went tenser as he realized that Liam was right behind him.
“Avery, seriously. I’m not waiting so some little girl can stand at a urinal and play pretend.”
Avery’s bladder cramped, and now he wasn’t even trickling anymore. He still felt so much pee inside his body, but he couldn’t make it come out. His heart began to race for the third time today. He knew what this was, he knew that he was no experiencing a bit of ‘stage fright’. His brain was too nervous for his bladder to relax. This had only happened a couple times, and Avery HATED it!
The first time he’d gone to Uncle Brad about it, complained that he hadn’t been able to finish his pee because some guy came in and started yelling into his phone about taxes or something. Uncle Brad had told him it was normal, and he’d said “You know, I think getting a shy bladder is actually more common in men than in women.” Avery was sure he’d said that to make him feel better, or to make him laugh or something, but Avery hadn’t been in a laughing mood.
Brad had also told him that breath holding could sometimes help get the stream started if his bladder was giving him trouble. He tried that, he inhaled deep.
He heard Liam shuffling behind him. “Move. You don’t even—“
“Let me finish!” Avery squeaked. “Please? I still have to go!”
“God,” Liam said, and Avery heard real urgency overtaking his usual bluster. “How long are you gonna keep playing this shit? How long are you gonna keep pretending to be something you’re not?”
Avery wasn’t pretending to be anything. He was a guy that STILL needed to pee REAL bad, and was being harassed so much that he couldn’t finish. “Get AWAY from me!”
Liam was a lot taller than Avery, so when he got closer to him and tilted his head down, he was able to clearly see— “The fuck is THAT?”
“Leave me ALONE!” Avery shouted. He imagined what it would be like if Liam had done that to ANY other guy in here. If he’d gone right up behind them and started staring at their dick!? And he’d had the audacity to tell the principal that Avery had been sneaking peaks in the restroom!? “You’re just being a moron!” This was asinine! The other two urinals had opened up for a second while Liam was still tormenting him. And instead of just using one of those he’d continued to bother Avery while others took them.
Liam was stupid. He was just stupid. He was a stupid, dumb, idiot and he was unworthy of Avery’s time. He was unworthy of Avery’s emotions. He was unworthy of Avery paying him even the slightest bit of attention. He was unworthy of Avery EVER thinking about him beyond ‘Oh, there’s that asshole again!’
Hssssssssss…
“Ahhhhhhh….” Avery’s eyes drifted shut as his stream finally resumed. His irritated bladder, angry at its relief being halted for so long, felt as though it were being massaged. This felt so good… So relaxing… So freeing… So, so much better… Twenty ton weights were being removed from Avery’s shoulders piece by piece and it was just… So, wonderfully good. He pushed down on his muscles, let his pee really spray, hissing and splattering.
Wow, it was REALLY hissing this time, and splashing… It was almost like it was echoing or someth—
“Ah—!” he heard the voice behind him gasp. “Nah— No… Stop—“
Avery went looser and looser, and then his bladder was finally empty… He zipped himself up and turned around to see Liam standing there, holding himself, doubled over, and with a rapidly expanding dark spot forming beneath his clenched hands. Avery stared at him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, but Liam wasn’t even really worth that, was he?
He really was just a stupid, dumb idiot. A stupid, dumb idiot that had gone and pissed his pants because bullying Avery and trying to make him feel small and lesser had been more important to him than using a toilet as soon as it had become available.
Avery said nothing as Liam continued drenching himself, creating a large puddle on the tile floor. For a moment, Avery thought he’d finally finished, but then another huge gush burst out of him. Liam clearly had a pretty big bladder, but that surely just made the humiliation of breaking it open even worse. He was totally soaked by the time he’d finally stopped.
Only then did Avery say something, “Well, that was pretty stupid, wasn’t it?” Avery knew he was really pushing his luck, and that once Liam’s shock at being an eighteen year old standing in pissed pants right in front of a row of urinals had worn off, there was definitely going to be some sort of retribution. No doubt, Liam blamed him for this.
Avery quickly doused some water onto his hands at the sink and got out of there. He met back up with Uncle Brad and Lydia, and was happy to see that Lydia had made it in time as well. His class converged in the lobby and his teachers read off who would be staying with which chaperone in which room. Avery would be with his uncle, of course, and a guy he didn’t know too well. He wasn’t sure if he should be worried or not.
Uncle Brad said he wanted to take the stairs rather than the elevator and asked Avery to come with him. Avery was confused, it was going to be a long walk… But, he was going to feel a lot safer with his uncle than he would without him. Avery didn’t know what Liam was going to do now, but he knew it was probably going to involve targeting him.
“Avery,” Uncle Brad began when they were alone in the stairwell. “You don’t… Normally pee right next to people unless you just HAVE to, do you?”
Avery shook his head, “No,” he said. “I know lots of guys get uncomfortable with that. I don’t like having someone right beside me, either. I only did that earlier because Liam kinda threatened me and so I was scared to go into the restroom, so I—“
Brad felt bad now. He’d left the restroom as soon as he’d finished. He hadn’t known Avery was frightened and wanted a protector… “Did Liam do anything?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “He yelled at me and called me a bunch of stuff, then he… He looked over my shoulder while I was trying to finish going and—“
“He… Tried to look at what’s in your pants?” Brad asked.
“Y—Yeah,” Avery said. “He… Looked at my… He looked at my junk, and was like ‘The fuck is that?’, and I got really angry, and then he—“
“Avery, you know what that is? That’s sexual harassment.”
“What?” Avery asked. It had sure made him feel extremely uncomfortable and violated, but it wasn’t as bad as all that, right? When he heard the term ‘sexual harassment’, his first thought was of a creepy old guy groping his young secretary. Liam hadn’t touched him, he’d just looked and said things.
“It is,” Brad said. “If he’d gone in there, looked at anyone else’s genitals and made comments about them, that would be harassment. It’s not different just because you’re trans.”
Avery nodded, it had always FELT like it was a real part of him, and being stared at there had made him feel absolutely disgusting…
“You don’t have to let anyone look at you there if you don’t want them to, it’s your body. All of it is,” Brad said. “Next time I see one of your teachers, I’m going to let them know about this. It has to stop.”
“But— But Liam is already really mad at me,” Avery blurted out. “He had an accident because he was so busy picking on me, and I know he probably blames me. If he gets in trouble, he’s going to be even—“
“He NEEDS to get in trouble,” Brad said. “If all he gets after this is some kind of punishment from the school then he should consider himself lucky. He didn’t… He didn’t touch you in there, did he?”
Avery shook his head.
“Okay, good,” Brad said. “If he’d done that I’d be kicking his ass now. I’ve had it. If this boy ever lays a hand on you again, I— I don’t even know.” He sighed. “You… Feeling okay?”
“Y—Yeah,” Avery said. “I think so. I don’t have to pee anymore, at least. That’s pretty nice.”
“Heh…” |
“Dude, Liam said he wants to kick your ass,” was the first thing Avery heard when he got to his hotel room.
Before Avery could remember how to speak, Uncle Brad was saying “If I see Liam come near Avery again, he’s going to need the emergency room.”
Avery looked at the guy he’d be sharing the room with. He wasn’t too familiar with him.“He says you pissed on him?” The guy asked. “Is that true?”
Ah. So THAT was the story Liam was going with? “No, that’s disgusting. Liam pissed himself.” ‘Because he’s an idiot,’ Avery added in his head.
“Yeah, I figured that’s what really happened,” the guy agreed. “Because, like, I think if I was gonna pee on somebody I’d aim for the eyes, you know? Not just do it down his legs.”
Avery felt so awkward. He felt like he was watching this conversation happen from outside his body. He assumed the guy was probably joking. He hoped he was, anyway. “Eheh, yeah… Um, Liam just had an accident. That’s all that happened.”
“So, you’re Avery, right?” the guy asked. “I’m Wyatt. Why’s Liam hate you so much?”
Avery crossed his arms tight against himself, curled his hands in. “You… You don’t know?”
“He’s not STILL on that, is he?” Wyatt said. “I thought everyone had moved on by now.”
Avery thought about that. A lot of his classmates pretty much HAD moved on from it, really. For a bunch of them, Avery being trans was old news now. Even some of the people that had bothered him about it the beginning had grown tired of it. There were just a couple handfuls left that still picked on him or treated him like a zoo exhibit. Liam was by far the worst. “Some… Some have, some haven’t,” he said. “Some people still stare, or say gross stuff, but I think I’m the only one that notices when they do it. And some people like Liam keep… Acting like that about it.”
“Wow, that sucks,” Wyatt said. “I think I only really heard about it for, like, a week. Sorry there’s still people giving you shit… Anyway, Liam is pretty much a dick, he deserved to wet his pants.”
“He… Did,” Avery agreed.
“Heh, how’d it happen?”
“Um…” Avery rubbed the back of his neck. “I was… Uh… I was using the urinal, and he started to kinda… Lay into me like he always does. And, then even when some of the other toilets opened up, instead of using one like a normal person, he decided to just keep bugging me instead, and I guess then he couldn’t wait anymore. It was his choice.”
“Wow, what an idiot,” Wyatt said, then got quiet. “Er…” It was clear he wanted to say something. “Um…”
“What?”
“I… Wanted to ask you something, but I’m not sure if I should… Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
Wow, that was rare. Someone was actually considering Avery’s feelings before blurting something out. Like they were seeing him as a human being. Very few people had ever done that before. “Um, yeah… Thanks for… For checking. And you can ask, I guess. But, I just might not be okay answering.”
Wyatt looked away, “I mean, it’s just… You said you were using the urinal?”
Avery had had a feeling that was what Wyatt was confused about. “Yeah, they sell things for trans guys so they can go standing up. I know, it’s weird. And I know it’s kinda silly, but I feel really uncomfortable without—“
“Nah, I don’t think it’s that silly,” Wyatt shrugged. “Pretty sure if I woke up tomorrow and my dick was gone I’d need to have something like that too.”
And then Avery was laughing.
“And, I think I heard once that like, there was some guy that had something wrong with his dick— Like he had some bad injury or something. And the doctors gave him some kinda prosthetic thing too.” Wyatt laughed. “I don’t know if it’s the same sorta thing you have, but yeah.”
Even though Wyatt thought the story of a man needing to have his dick replaced was just funny, the story made Avery feel something else entirely. Other guys had prosthetic cocks, and not just trans ones either. The man in Wyatt’s story wasn’t less of a man, and so neither was Avery. “Did you see if he was happy with it?”
“I mean, I think he was,” Wyatt shrugged. “He looked happy in the photo they used anyway. So, yeah, you shouldn’t think you’re weird.
Avery did still feel a little bit weird, but only because a guy he’d literally just met had managed to make him feel so much better about himself so quickly. And near as he could tell, Wyatt wasn’t even really TRYING too hard to do that, just relaying something he’d heard about and thought was interesting.
After a few minutes, it was time to go back down to meet up with everyone else for dinner. Avery stayed very close to Brad all evening at the restaurant, he knew Liam was no doubt filled with rage and looking for a way to “get back” at Avery for the event that was ultimately his own fault.
Avery was so anxious that he had a hard time eating his food… And his bladder was so sore after his earlier emergency that he needed the bathroom pretty bad halfway through the meal. He saw the sign for the men’s room tucked away in a corner and looked at it nervously. If Liam saw him go in there, he wouldn’t put it past him to follow him in and bother him. And, this time, Avery would be alone…
He tapped his uncle on the arm. “I… Um… I want to use the bathroom…” he said quietly, embarrassed. He felt so childish. He should have been able to go to the toilet by himself, this wasn’t fair.
“No problem,” Brad said, and he quickly escorted Avery to the restroom. He knew how bad this arrangement made his nephew feel, and his heart ached that someone could scare him enough that he felt he needed protection just to relieve himself.
As Avery used a urinal, he felt even more out of sorts when Uncle Brad didn’t move to do the same. Brad didn’t have to go, he’d literally only come in here to be Avery’s security detail.
‘Jeez,’ Avery thought. ‘I’m so freaking needy…’ He felt like such a horrendous burden, making his uncle stand up and leave his dinner to come stand in a smelly public restroom just so he could take a quick leak. Avery should have just held it, he hadn’t even been that desperate!
Avery zipped up and washed his hands, “Th—Thank you,” he said, ashamed. “I’m really sorry.”
Uncle Brad put a hand on his back, “Please, don’t apologize. You’re not the one that did anything wrong.”
Avery knew that, deep down, he knew that it wasn’t his fault at all that he felt scared. If Avery didn’t have someone threatening him, then he wouldn’t feel frightened at all. He wouldn’t need someone guarding him while he did something as simple as use the toilet.
He remained silent through the rest of dinner, feeling angry and frustrated. All of this was just so inconvenient. He shouldn’t have people shouting at him, hurting him, threatening him over a basic bodily function. He shouldn’t be so fearful of other human beings that he felt the need to cling to the few he could trust in order to take care of his biological needs. He’d tried for so long to understand why people like Liam did what they did, what they got out of it, what they thought they were achieving, and he’d never been able to figure it out.
Back in the hotel room, Avery prepared for what was sure to be the worst part of this trip. He knew it would be bad the moment he stepped into the bathroom and saw the huge full length mirror on the wall. Avery was more okay with seeing his reflection now than he used to be, but only when his clothes were all on. He could not stand seeing what he looked like naked. It was bad enough having to look down at it all to wash himself, having to see every bit of it reflected back at him felt like a punishment.
At home, he sometimes showered with the lights off. Uncle Brad had asked him to stop doing that, fearing he’d slip and hurt himself, but some days were just too hard and Avery couldn’t deal with it any other way.
He wouldn’t try that here, in an unfamiliar bathroom. He needed to still be able to see. He took off his shirt first, then his pants. So far, it wasn’t too terrible. But, this was where he usually got stuck. His hands wouldn’t want to continue doing what they had to do.
He pulled down his boxers, and actually felt good for a moment. He could see his prosthetic, attached to him via his harness. It looked real. It looked like it belonged there. It felt nice to see. But, then he had to take it off. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t really real, he had to remind himself that it wasn’t a physical part of his body like it was supposed to be, and that underneath it was something he could hardly stand to acknowledge WAS a physical part of him.
He knew some trans men weren’t as repulsed by that whole region as he was, and could even derive pleasure there. But, Avery couldn’t. He’d attempted to masturbate only once, and it had ended with him shaking and trembling and feeling like he and his body were two entirely separate entities and that he was watching the events unfold from behind a pane of glass. None of it had felt good, it had felt nauseating and wrong and he’d quit after less than two minutes. As far as Avery was concerned, that region of his body wasn’t even his. It belonged to no one, it just existed without Avery’s consent and he wished every day that it would leave him.
He set the prosthetic on the edge of the tub so that he could wash it out. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that it needed to be properly rinsed, he probably would leave it on to bathe. But, if he never cleaned the funnel, he could end up with an infection. He’d had an infection like that once before, and it had necessitated him paying more attention to THAT part of his body than he could stomach.
Finally, he forced himself to unzip the binder, shutting his eyes tight against his reflection. Everything about his chest was wrong. Avery had never been able to think of those things as ‘breasts’, his brain told him that they were enormous, pus filled tumors and that they needed to be gone NOW. He hated how large his nipples were, he hated feeling the tumors move and sway as he walked, he fantasized every day about destroying them.
And then, Avery was naked… In an unfamiliar place, with a guy his own age that he went to school with right out there in the other room. He knew Wyatt did not have XRAY vision, but it FELT like he did. Wyatt was out there, thinking about how Avery was about to shower, and that he’d have to be naked to do that, with his body all warped and distorted and wrong. Avery felt more exposed than he ever had in his life.
He showered as fast as he could, rinsed out his prosthetic with a little bit of soap and a lot of warm water, and then it was over. The relief he felt when he put his prosthetic back on and pulled up his pants was immense, eclipsed only by how much better he felt after putting on his binder and shirt. He was together again, reassembled. He was okay.
He opened the door to find his uncle standing there. “Could I talk to you?” he asked.
Avery nodded, and Brad stepped in.
“So, tonight and tomorrow…” Brad began. “Your… Stuff that you wear?”
Avery knew what he was asking. “I HAVE to leave it on,” he said. “Please? It’s just a couple days. I can’t— Not here. Please?”
“You could… Keep the comforter pulled up all the way,” Brad said. “So that he won’t see how you look without—“
“No,” Avery said, he knew he was whining, but he couldn’t help it. The mere idea of having those things… out… “Please? I know it’s bad for me, but I just—“
“Okay,” Brad said. “But, tomorrow I want you to go into a restroom every so often and unzip it for a bit. Just for a few minutes to give yourself a break. And, I’m not going to make you take the… Lower stuff off. We haven’t really got a place to hide it over night. So, make sure you’re cleaning it as best as you can.”
Avery felt better. He wasn’t going to enjoy ducking into bathroom stalls to mess with his binder, but it was a lot better than having to leave it open all night long here. And, remembering the Hellish desperation he’d gone through on the bus, he thought it would at least give him more opportunities to visit the toilet tomorrow.
After Avery and Brad left the restroom and Wyatt had showered, the three went to bed.
When Avery awoke, there were problems.
It really wasn’t good to go to bed with his binder on. He’d turned wrong at some point during his sleep and there was a horrendous pain in one of his shoulders where the strap had been pressing all night. And, it really was best not to leave the prosthetic on all the time, either. Sweat sometimes got caught between the prosthetic and his flesh, especially at night. So, taking it off in order to give his skin time to air out was necessary. Since this hadn’t happened, he was terribly itchy. ‘Don’t scratch it!’ he ordered himself. ‘It will go away faster if you don’t scratch!’
He balled his hands into fists as he fought the urge to dig his nails into his irritated flesh to try and drive away the maddening feeling of pins and needles assailing it. ‘Wash off some in the bathroom,’ he told himself. That had helped in the past when he’d accidentally gone to sleep with it still on.
He waited by the restroom door, uncomfortably holding his clothing for the day. Once Wyatt had come out, Avery rushed inside. It was easier to get undressed this time than it had been the night before. He was still half-asleep, harder to get trapped inside his brain when he wasn’t fully awake. In the shower, he rinsed off the irritated areas of his flesh and the itch died mostly away. He even let out a relaxed sigh as the flames beneath his skin were extinguished. So much better…
He got dressed quickly and was back in the main room a moment later. Brad took him and Wyatt down to the first floor of the hotel, and back onto the bus with the rest of the class. It wasn’t until the bus pulled away that Avery realized he’d sort of missed a step in the restroom earlier.
Namely, he’d forgotten to actually USE it.
He’d been so concerned with taking care of his itching thighs that he’d neglected paying a visit to the most important fixture in the bathroom… And, WOW was he ever regretting that!
He was stunned that he hadn’t noticed the pressure within his bladder earlier, surely it had been throbbing away ever since he’d woken up! He began to tap his foot agitatedly. He hoped the ride to the museum they were going to wouldn’t last long, and that he’d have an easy time locating the restroom once they got there.
With some concern, he glanced around the crowded bus for Liam, but was unable to find him. He knew the guy must have been in here somewhere, even if he couldn’t see him. He knew Liam was also out for his blood after yesterday, and prayed he’d be able to take care of his growing need without Liam trying to start something.
That should be easy enough, though! Avery just had to ask Brad to take him to the bathroom, and he’d be safe for sure! He’d feel like a child, but at least he’d be a child that could relieve his bladder in peace. This was all going to be nice and simple, even if he was uncomfortable, he knew he could hold his pee until they got to the museum. The restroom would no doubt be really close to the entrance. And Brad would ensure Liam would leave him be. No reason to stress himself out, no reason to worry. He had to go sort of badly right now, but that was going to be taken care of soon enough.
They reached the museum pretty quickly, and Avery only winced a tiny bit when he stood up to depart from the vehicle. ‘Soon,’ he promised his annoyed, aching bladder. ‘Just a few more minutes.’
Inside the museum, everyone was told they could pair off with whoever they wanted while they walked around, much to Avery’s relief. But, speaking of relief, he saw the restroom sign pointing down a hall. His bladder was already loosening up at the sight, and he eagerly bounced on his toes.
Ms. Dawson still talking, droning on about how everyone needed to behave, and about the essay everyone would be required to write about their favorite piece of art that they found here. Right now, Avery’s favorite piece of art in this whole building was down that hallway… He silently begged for Ms. Dawson to hurry up and finish with her spiel, continually staring at the arrow directing him towards the restrooms was making his bladder convulse and spasm hard as it struggled to understand why he hadn’t brought it there yet. ‘Come on… Come on, we get it!’ he thought. ‘I want to pee now!’
Finally, Ms. Dawson had concluded with everything she’d wanted to say, and Avery relaxed once more. His ordeal was nearly over, and he hadn’t needed to endure nearly the amount of struggle that he’d gone through yesterday. He was gonna pee in just a couple minutes, and this annoying pressure would be a thing of the past.
“There’s this one painting here I really wanted to see,” Lydia said. “It’s a Monet, called ‘The Houses of Parliament’. I’ve seen photos of it, the colors are really cool.”
Avery was sure the colors really were cool if Lydia said they were, but he could certainly wait to see them. There was one thing that he COULDN’T comfortably wait to do for much longer, however. He’d been doing his best to get better at asking people for the things he needed, so many times in the past he’d let himself get desperate simply because he couldn’t make himself speak up. He would not repeat that mistake today. Right away, he turned to his uncle and said “I wanted to go to the restroom before we start, okay?”
That was okay, of course. Brad led Avery and Lydia down the hall towards the restrooms, and Avery was breathing easily despite the growing tightness beneath his waistband. Almost there… Almost there… Almost there…
Avery’s bladder suddenly cramped in on itself as he saw a far less pleasant sign affixed to the door of the men’s room.
It was currently closed. Out of order.
Avery wasn’t seconds away from emptying his bladder. He no longer knew WHEN he’d next get to do it.
Brad gave Avery a sympathetic look. “It’s alright, I’m sure there’s another one somewhere, we can start looking.”
And at that, all the shame flooded back into Avery. Lydia didn’t seem to need to go. Unlike Avery, who’d been an idiot this morning, she’d no doubt relieved herself right after waking up. What an enormous nuisance he’d be if he made her spend this trip helping him find a urinal. Who knew how long it would take to find him one? What if it took so long Lydia didn’t get to see that painting she liked?
All things considered, Avery didn’t have to go THAT much right now, anyway. “I—It’s fine,” he said. “We don’t have to look, I’m sure we’ll pass by one. I can wait, it’s not that bad.” As if to protest his statement, his bladder sent him a sharp twinge that made the muscles around his sphincter pulse. He bounced once on his heels, trying to make it look casual. “Don’t worry about it.”
Lydia tried to keep the disappointment off her face at Avery’s words. There had been a bit of a problem this morning for her; She was sharing her hotel room with two other girls, and they’d both taken so long in the restroom that Lydia didn’t get to have a turn of her own before it was time to go down to the lobby. She’d barely even been able to get her clothes on fast enough, there had definitely been no time to empty her bladder!
When Avery had requested a toilet break she’d been very relieved because it meant she’d finally get to go as well!
The women’s room was still open, but… Wow, that would be really unfair! Even if Avery didn’t need the bathroom as badly as SHE did, she didn’t want to taunt him by peeing when he wasn’t able to, and adding on a few more extra minutes that he’d need to wait. “Th—That’s good,” she stammered finally. “And, I’m sure we’ll find one soon!”
Avery REALLY hoped so…
About an hour later, and the three had gone through several rooms of the museum, but had yet to find another set of restrooms. Avery had definitely been keeping an eye out for one, his bladder hadn’t ceased steadily filling for even one second during all that time. What was once an irritating, nagging, tingling bit of throbbing was now a pulsating urge that was causing him to walk with very stiff legs. He struggled to look away whenever he saw a painting that contained anything that involved water. Ocean scenes, rivers, lakes, waterfalls… Even in the still images, he swore he could hear them trickling, and his thighs clenched in tightly at the sight.
“Water is very hard to paint realistically, I’ve heard,” Brad said. “It isn’t easy to make it look like it’s really flowing, but this one does it,” he gestured to one painting, and Avery agreed with him. It really did look like the stream in it was moving, instead of just remaining static and frozen in time. If it didn’t make him wish so badly for a place to allow his OWN stream to start moving, he thought he’d be admiring it as much as Brad was.
In one of the older paintings, one depicting a scene in some ancient castle, Avery even saw a tiny chamberpot tucked into one corner. No one was using it, thank God— If Avery was forced to see even a drawing of someone urinating right now, he’d probably stop cold and double over. But, just the sight of the pot, and the knowledge of what it was FOR, made him wish he could somehow step inside the painting and make some serious use of it.
That idea actually got him smiling at the absurdity of it. He imagined all the Renaissance-era people in the image jumping with surprise as some guy wearing bizarre clothing unlike anything they’d ever seen suddenly crashed their party just to take a huge piss. He even snorted a little laugh, but winced when it prompted his bladder to contract.
“What’s so funny?” Lydia asked him.
Avery froze. He couldn’t exactly TELL her that he’d been fantasizing about developing magic powers that let him go inside works of art to pee… “N—Nothing. I just remembered something I saw online. It’s nothing.”
“Oh…” Lydia said, wishing he’d shared more. She was in need of some sort of distraction from her bladder, and the art alone wasn’t cutting it… “H—Have you seen a bathroom yet, anywhere?” she asked. She’d been desperately checking around every corner for one herself, but maybe she’d missed it. And, since Avery wasn’t in such dire need of a break, perhaps he’d forgotten all about it and didn’t say anything when he spotted one.
Avery tried to straighten himself out a bit more, wary that Lydia was catching on to exactly how desperate he was becoming and getting concerned. He didn’t want to worry her, he hated stressing people out over his silly problems! “Nope,” he said, shrugging like it didn’t matter at all. “But, that’s okay. I’m still fine.”
Lydia patted her hands against her thighs anxiously for a moment… There had to be another set of bathrooms here somewhere, right? This was an enormous place! She thought about telling Avery that she needed to pee, asking if they could please go back down to the one bathroom they HAD managed to find so she could get relief— If Avery didn’t need it that bad, he shouldn’t mind, right? “Avery, I—“
“Oh hey,” Brad called. “Check this one out!” He was standing before an enormous painting that displayed a waterfall that was surely hundreds of miles wide… Hundreds of miles worth of gushing, pouring water all splashing and echoing. “This is what I was telling you about, Avery. The amount of skill someone needs to make this look so real— You can practically HEAR it, can’t you?”
Avery nodded twitchily. He sure as Hell COULD hear it! He had the most peculiar urge to clamp his hands over his ears to block out the thunderous hissing that only existed within his imagination! “Y—Yeah,” he managed. “It’s neat…” he swayed from side to side. He… Honestly wouldn’t mind jumping into that painting either, though. There was a rock ledge at one end of the waterfall, and he was sure it would feel all kinds of good to release his bladder’s waterfall down it…
He crossed his legs at the thought, tensing them together. ‘Hold it… Hold it…’ he thought as he tried to quell the thrashing need within. He uncrossed them finally when he saw his uncle turn back around. “What do you think of the colors, Lydia?”
Lydia had been trying not to look at the painting at all, but she did now. It was a spattering of different shades of blue in most places, but the sky was at sunset and filled with pinks and yellows… Some of the yellows were being reflected against the waterfall. Clearly, the long-dead artist that had created this work was a sadist, he somehow just knew that one day his painting would hang in a museum and a girl with an uncomfortably full bladder would have to look at it and all the suggestive imagery it contained. “Th—They’re nice,” she said, dragging her nails against her pant legs, agitated. “The reflection of the sky is…”
“I know,” Brad said. “Amazing attention to detail.”
“L—Let’s find some others,” Lydia said, and they started to leave this room.
“Avery, I don’t think I ever asked, do you have a favorite artist? Maybe they have some of their stuff here.”
Avery shrugged, trying to remember names of famous artists. He was struggling to remember anything that wasn’t related to urinals, though…
Well.
Wasn’t there some artist that, like, autographed a urinal, or something? Had anyone ever… Used it? Could HE use it? Was it in this museum? “Who’s that guy that signed the urinal? That’s kinda funny, I guess.”
“I believe that was Marcel Duchamp,” Brad said. “I don’t think that one is displayed here, though.”
“Oh, okay,” Avery said. It was quite a ridiculous thought, anyway. He was pretty sure that peeing into one of the art displays— even if it WAS technically a urinal— wouldn’t be the ‘proper behavior’ Ms. Dawson had asked for.
But, Avery absolutely had to find SOMEWHERE to go soon, the amount of urgency pulsing right against his opening was beginning to make it hard to walk. When he parted his legs too far, he’d feel like his pee was right at the very edge of his exit, like it would take just one tiny push to make it all come flowing out. He was forced to take tiny, little half-steps, occasionally rising onto the tips of his toes, clenching down hard against the tide.
After a bit more walking, and still no sign of a restroom, Lydia was starting to feel highly stressed out. She’d skipped her morning pee before school a couple of times, and it had always made for a very uncomfortable ride there, but she’d always reach school rather quickly and be able to go straight to the toilet for relief. At most, forgetting to pee after waking up would only require her to hold it in for about an hour.
This had been a lot longer than one hour, and her kidneys were refusing to listen to her demands that they stop pumping liquid into her bladder until she found a way to get rid of everything that was already inside it. She paused at the staircase that she knew would lead back to the first set of restrooms they’d found; How foolish it had been to choose to restrain herself when Avery had said repeatedly that he barely even had to go! It wouldn’t have been THAT mean to pee earlier! She rocked back and forth on her feet. “Um… I need to use the restroom,” she said. “Can you guys wait for me while I go back downstairs?”
‘No fair!’ Avery’s brain screamed. ‘No fair, no fair, no fair!’ He was positive he had to go a lot more than Lydia did! His middle felt swollen and firm, and he was DYING to let it release! But… Maybe they’d fixed whatever the issue was with that men’s room by now? Maybe he COULD finally use it? Ohhh, he really hoped he could finally use it now! “O—Okay,” Avery said. “N—No problem. We can go back down there.”
Lydia was relieved that he wasn’t irritated with her, and the three went back down to the restrooms.
Avery managed to restrain his anguished moan to just a small, pleading whimper when he saw that the sign was still tacked to the men’s room. No need to make Lydia worry about him, or make her feel guilty enough to hold her own bladder on his account. But, the sight of that sign made him feel like a heavy metal pipe was being whacked against his abdomen, like another cup’s worth of urine had been dumped into his bloated bladder all at once and with no warning.
Avery watched as Lydia entered the women’s room, about to do the thing he REALLY had to do. It crossed his mind to say something like, “Lydia, I actually DO have to go kinda bad. When you’re done can you, like, stand next to the door and not let anybody in while I use it?” But, his mouth refused to open. What if Liam was nearby and saw him enter or exit the women’s room? He shuddered to think what fresh Hell that would unleash upon him. He could practically hear the taunts already…
It was stupid that the bathrooms had to be separated like that, anyway! He’d always thought it was dumb, all it did was stress him out, make him wonder ‘What does everyone see when they look at me? Will I get beat up if I go inside? Will someone yell at me?’ And the toilets had doors on them, to see what anyone was doing, a person would have to look over the top of the door or lean down to stare underneath it, and that wouldn’t be okay no matter what gender they were.
In New York City, there were actually some places that designated both their restrooms as being for everybody. Avery didn’t see it super often, but he always felt safe in those. Any time he came across a restroom like that while he was out, he would always, ALWAYS use it even if he didn’t have to go that much, just in case.
If the restrooms HERE were labeled as ‘for everyone’, then it wouldn’t have mattered that one of them was out of order. Avery wouldn’t have to stand out here in the hallway, holding it, while Lydia got relief.
Avery tried hard not to think about what Lydia was doing. He was sure she wouldn’t like it if he pictured her with her pants down, peeing on the toilet… His bladder certainly didn’t like that image! It convulsed hard, contracting inside his body, and a teensy little squirt of urine shot out from between his tense legs. “Ohh…” he mumbled, hooking his ankles together and leaning against the wall.
“Avery?” Brad asked. “Are you… You’ve had your… thing zipped up for a while,” he realized. “We really do need to find you a bathroom soon so you can take a break…”
Avery nodded in definite agreement. ‘Yes, yes! Please find me a bathroom right away!’ His shoulder was still sore after last night, but he barely noticed that anymore. His bladder demanded ALL of his attention at the moment. He knew he had to unzip his binder for a few minutes, but he needed to PEE a million times worse than that!
“You feeling okay?” Brad asked. “Breathing alright?”
Avery WAS having some trouble breathing, sucking in air too deeply made his skin pull tautly against his bladder, made him wish for a toilet even more! “I— Can we, like, focus on finding a bathroom now? As fast as possible?”
“You aren’t in pain, are you?”
Avery definitely was in pain, but not the kind Brad was concerned about. “I just— I really want to find one soon, okay?”
Lydia returned then, and Avery tried not to feel jealous when he noticed how relaxed she looked. Must have been nice to have an empty bladder… He wasn’t angry with her, she didn’t even KNOW he was bursting, after all. He hadn’t told anyone that he was having an emergency, and he was trying as hard as he could not to be obvious about it. He’d been shifting his hips and walking a little oddly, but he’d been able to keep his hands from grabbing, had been able to keep his legs from crossing TOO much…
With the ever increasing urgent signals his bladder was sending, he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to stop himself from dancing, though.
“Let’s find a restroom for Avery now,” Brad said to Lydia.
“Oh,” Lydia frowned at her friend. “You should have said it was getting bad, then I wouldn’t have—“
“I—I’m fine,” Avery insisted. “Just have to…” He didn’t want to tell Lydia that he needed to unzip his binder any more than he wanted to tell her he really needed to pee… “Um… I have to adjust something, that’s all. I’m okay.”
“Alright,” Lydia said.
After a bit of searching, he’d Avery had needed to come to a dead stop a couple times to cross his legs and adjust his fly. The third time he stopped like this, he accidentally doubled over and had a very difficult time getting moving again. His middle was totally firm now, rock-solid from the weight of his bladder, and it was becoming much heavier than he thought he could carry…
He kept trying to prod the waistband of his jeans away from his abdomen, but this brought him very little relief. The pulses at his opening weren’t coming in waves anymore, it was a constant assault of intense pressure, and he just… He needed somewhere to go! His water-logged brain had been running further and further away from him. When he noticed that several works of art here were vases and pots, he fantasized about yanking one from its display and filling it up. When they passed by a water fountain, he thought about how it looked sort of similar to a urinal. No matter what object his eyes seized on, his brain would supply him with SOME way he could try to use it to alleviate his problem, no matter how illogical it was. He had to piss, and he had to do it now!
At one point, Brad stopped, and Avery forced himself to pause beside him. Avery was completely incapable of holding still, he continued to jump from one foot to the other, his hands kept fluttering by his waist, tensing themselves into fists. Brad looked at his watch. “It’s actually almost lunchtime, so—“ He paused, glancing up at Avery. Now that Avery was stuck in one place, his pee dancing was as blatant as could be.
Lydia was looking at him too, and Avery reddened under their gazes. He hoped they weren’t expecting him to say anything. He knew the only words he’d be able to force out of his mouth right now would be an urgent, whimpering cry of “I have to piss!” He tried to make himself go still, managed it for a second, and immediately spurted a short jet of pee into his boxers. He couldn’t hold still, if he stopped moving, then he peed!
Brad actually felt terrible as he watched Avery’s emergency unfold. Having seen his nephew ready to burst several times before, Brad was surprised and a little disappointed in himself for not noticing this problem sooner. Avery had even SAID pretty much as soon as they’d gotten to the museum that he had to use the restroom. Brad should have known all of Avery’s claims that he didn’t really have to go THAT much were probably just because he didn’t want to admit to being desperate in front of Lydia, or something like that.
“Avery, are you—“
“I— I, um…” Avery faltered, crossed his legs and jiggled up and down. “I— I need to go REALLY bad all of the sudden!”
‘All of the sudden, right,’ Brad thought. Clearly, the guy had been holding it for hours and hours of ever-increasing urgency. He wouldn’t scold him in front of Lydia, though. He’d never do anything so cruel. “Well, like I said, it’s lunchtime. There are places to eat around here, and I’m sure they’ll have a bathroom you can use.”
Avery nodded frantically, he hoped he could walk that far… “Hur—Hurry, okay? It’s… I don’t know, I barely had to go all the day, and then suddenly I’m— I don’t know.”
Lydia listened to him stutter and stumble over his words and had a very difficult time believing them. If she were a more observant person, if she was more adept at reading body language, she probably would have noticed that he was reaching the bursting point ages ago. Now that he had to go so much he could hardly stand up, she could tell he’d been holding it in for a long, long time. She followed after his hobbling steps, stumbling in the direction of the museum’s exit. “Avery… You should have said!”
“I— I mean it, I didn’t have to go that much until just now!” Avery insisted, finally tucking a hand between his tense thighs. He hadn’t MEANT to do that right in front of Lydia, but another squirt had just leaked into his boxers and he needed a nice, solid barrier to block anything else from slipping out!
“Come on, Avery…”
“I… Okay, so I’ve been dying for a piss all freaking day,” Avery admitted. “I forgot to go this morning, I haven’t peed in… I don’t know, like over half a day by now, and I’m about to completely explode. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Um… Not exactly?” Lydia offered. “A simple ‘Yes, Lydia, I should have spoken up earlier, I guess I was being silly,’ would have worked.”
Avery looked away from her. “I didn’t want us to have to rush through everything just to find me a bathroom, and then I didn’t want YOU to think you had to hold it just because I couldn’t go…”
Lydia sucked in her cheeks. “Um… Actually, I kinda DID hold it longer than I wanted to because I was worried about making you feel worse,” she said. “So, I guess you were right… I WOULD have kept waiting if I knew how badly you actually had to go.”
“Well… No point in both of us suffering…” Avery said. And, ‘suffering’ was definitely the right word to describe what he was feeling in that moment. His opening had started to sting and burn, sometimes a drop would begin to collect right there and he’d clench as hard as he could to keep it from falling… But, no matter how hard he tried, it always managed to seep out. A second hand dove between his legs, squeezing even more tightly as he doubled over, walking on tense, partially crossed legs.
Brad led them out of the museum, trying not to walk so quickly that Avery burst trying to keep up with him, but not so slowly that Avery had no chance of making it to a bathroom fast enough… Had he not had a time limit, Brad would have gotten out his phone and checked what kinds of restaurants were around here. But since there WAS a time limit that— From the looks of Avery’s tiny, contorted steps and nonstop crotch grabbing— was VERY close to reaching zero, he just headed towards the closest place, which was just across the street. He didn’t even bother to really read the name, he just registered that it was a restaurant, and that a public bathroom would definitely be inside it.
The last few feet to the restaurant were Hell on Avery’s bladder. He knew he was finally close to a toilet, and his body thought that ‘close’ was ‘close enough’. It didn’t care that he wasn’t actually AT that toilet yet. It didn’t care that he was still outside. It didn’t care that his zip was still up. It only cared about how painfully engorged his bladder was, and he began to trickle as they finally entered the restaurant. ‘Toilet! Now!’ he thought hazily. ‘Please!’ He barely registered the way the hostess stared at him as she led them to a table, but there was no doubt that she WAS staring. Of course she was, he was practically pissing his pants right in front of her… ‘Where’s the bathroom?!’ His brain screamed as he looked all around the dining area, his vision was cloudy and blurred from the tears he wasn’t allowing to fall. ‘Please!? I need it now!’
Only Lydia actually took a seat, Brad stayed up and pressed a hand gently to Avery’s back. “Okay, bud,” he said. “Let’s get you where you need to be…”
Avery no longer had the energy to expend on feeling embarrassed as his uncle guided him towards the restrooms like he was a little kid. All of his focus and strength needed to go towards holding it in these final few steps. With as foggy as his brain and vision had become, he probably wouldn’t have found the toilets tucked away out of sight back here by himself, he’d NEEDED someone to direct him…
And he needed someone to get the door for him, because his hands refused to budge out from between his legs. And he…
He needed someone he trusted WITH him because this restroom was CROWDED and that made him feel VERY antsy! Most of the urinals were taken, every stall was locked, two people were at the sinks…
Wha— What did everyone see when they looked at him?! Did they see he belonged here? Did they— Did they— Ohhhh, he didn’t even CARE anymore! He had to go too bad to wonder about what other people thought of him! It didn’t matter! If anyone WAS looking at him, probably the only thing they were thinking was ‘Holy SHIT, that guy’s really about to burst, isn’t he!?’ and maybe not even that!
He just… Had to… He scurried for the urinals, yanking his zip down the whole way. The only available one was between two people, which freaked him out. There weren’t even any of those privacy divider things here, which REALLY freaked him out— What if someone glanced at his junk and thought it looked weird, if they could tell that it wasn’t EXACTLY the same color as the rest of his skin, or noticed how wide the urethral opening was, or thought that the way he held it in his hands was abnormal, or—
Ohhh, for God’s sake, he didn’t care! If anyone peeked for so long that they picked up on any of that, then they were just a huge creep, and Uncle Brad would slap them upside the head so hard that their grandchildren would feel it! In all likelihood, no one was GOING to peek at him to start with! It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was— Was pulling out his cock, taking aim and—
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……
And… And… going…
All that mattered right now was finally, finally going…
Oh, God… He couldn’t hold it… He couldn’t hold it even one more second… This felt so good, this was bliss… His pee was striking the urinal with such a thunderous, roaring hiss that he swore it overpowered the sound of everyone else’s streams, and… And it just felt so good to let go… “Ohhhh, fuck yes…” he murmured softly, allowing his eyes to go partway shut, only keeping them open a tiny crack so he could keep watching what he was doing, so he could keep watching as sixteen hours worth of piss flowed out of him at last…
Brad had been extremely concerned the second they’d walked in here, fully expecting Avery to panic and insist he could keep waiting until the room emptied out more and felt safer. When he saw that the only available place for Avery to void was right between two men that were significantly taller than him and with no privacy guards, he expected Avery to be so intimidated and nervous that he forced himself to wait for one of the stalls instead.
Then, when he saw Avery just… Run right up to the urinal anyway, Brad relaxed. He was even a little proud, he knew how scary this was for his nephew. To expose his prosthetic without so much as a flimsy divider blocking anyone’s view, that took a lot of confidence and bravery…
And then he heard Avery groan… Those… Words; “Ohhhh, fuck yes…” Brad had overheard Avery mumbling things like that in the restroom at home when he’d been having an emergency. It was actually sort of funny that he’d moan such silly things to himself while peeing. But, Brad hadn’t known he did that while out in public as well.
Did Avery actually REALIZE he was saying that stuff, or did it just sorta slip out without his notice? Probably the latter, Brad decided. Avery was such a shy, introverted person, after all. It was unlike him to knowingly call attention to himself while he was urinating. That actually made it a little funnier, when Avery’s bladder control broke, so too did his control over his mouth.
Once one of the urinals beside Avery opened up, Brad took it. He did sort of need to go, and he knew it would look weird if he just kept standing around until Avery finished… Which certainly looked like it was going to take a while. Many times, Brad had been terribly alarmed by how copiously Avery peed, and this was no exception. Brad couldn’t recall ever being able to hold as much in as Avery regularly did. He’d waited too long today. He waited too long all of the time…
Of course, there were times like yesterday on the bus where Avery HAD to wait and had no other option aside from just wetting his pants. But, then there were times where Avery should have been able to go, but somehow convinced himself that he NEEDED to just hold it. Brad knew that his nephew was anxious, but he had so few ideas of how to make that better. He could be there for Avery, he was ALWAYS there for Avery, and he did his best to get him to understand that it was fine to need things and to ask for them… But, Avery never seemed to stop viewing himself as an inconvenient burden that should ignore his own needs because he just THOUGHT other people would want him to.
The LAST thing Brad wanted Avery to do was put off his needs until he was in pain. He was certain that was the last thing Lydia wanted for him as well!
By the time Brad had finished peeing, Avery STILL wasn’t done, and that REALLY worried Brad. He’d started going well after Avery had, and now that he was empty, Avery’s stream was continuing to gush as strongly as ever. Brad was even starting to wonder if it was possible to overflow a urinal.
Avery was actually wondering that as well. He must have been going for over a minute by now, at least, and he still felt a bit of pressure in there… Several seconds later, his release finally began to slow down, and Avery’s body began to really shudder… But, not in a bad way. It felt really, REALLY good, good enough to make him gasp out another moan.
At last, he was empty, and he zipped himself back up. His legs felt like jelly as he stumbled away from the urinals. He could hardly believe he’d actually made that… It had been so close! And, he was stunned he’d actually worked up the courage to let it flow right between two people! He’d just needed to go so badly that he’d hardly even thought about it!
After he’d washed his hands, Brad whispered to him that a stall was open now. Avery was confused at first, then remembered he was still supposed to unzip his binder for a few minutes now. He headed into the stall to do that. He reached underneath his shirt and undid the zip. There was a rush of relief as his skin was given a chance to breathe once more, but he tried not to look down.
Outside, Brad struggled to come up with how to discuss this problem with Avery again. It seemed that no matter how many times he said “Avery, it’s really FINE, just tell me when you need something, it’s not a problem!” it wouldn’t sink in. Avery would keep on doubting himself, he’d keep on forcing himself to suffer for no real reason. And, clearly, all the times he’d gotten severely desperate for a pee break hadn’t been enough to convince him that it was ALWAYS okay to tell someone when he was having an emergency…
Avery returned several minutes later, and the two left the restroom. They went back to the table where Lydia was waiting for them. Glasses of water had been set at each place. Avery’s throat was actually very dry, but instead of sipping from his drink, he just looked at it warily. He wasn’t eager to start pumping his bladder full of liquids again so soon after it had just nearly exploded.
Beside him, Lydia whispered; “Are you okay, Avery?”
“Thirsty…” Avery admitted. “But, I… Don’t wanna…”
“Avery,” Uncle Brad said. “If you are thirsty, you should drink. Please, you need to take care of your body.”
Avery didn’t WANT to take care of his body. It was nothing but trouble, and he hated it! If his body WASN’T wrong, then he wouldn’t have to be scared of Liam and of strangers. His parents would love him. He wouldn’t have ever gone to that stupid phony therapy center. He wouldn’t have night terrors. He wouldn’t be afraid of everything. His body had caused all of those things to happen.
Still, Avery drank his water, and his throat felt much better.
Later, back at the hotel, Brad again took Avery into the stairwell so they would have some privacy to talk. ‘Take care of your body’ was the main message Brad wanted to get across to him, and ‘my body is my enemy’ was what Avery tried to explain.
“Avery… Bud,” Brad said. “All of those things? Your parents, the bullies, that torture center? Your body didn’t cause ANY of them. Cruel people did. There are some people who are awful, you’ve just unfortunately had to meet a lot of them. But, that’s not the fault of you or your body, You are not the problem, those people are. You just need… You need to focus on the good people, okay?”
“But, I’m scared if I do something wrong, the good people will leave…”
“If someone leaves you for needing to pee, they aren’t a good person,” Brad said. “I would never leave you for that. Lydia wouldn’t, either. It’s okay, I promise.” |
Written for the Omovember prompt "On Public Transportation".
(Kinda light on the desperation through part of this one, mainly some backstory for Avery to help set up for a chapter coming later this month.)
***
Avery had been having a nice day. He and Lydia had gone out to get some pizza, and Avery had enjoyed several delicious slices as well as a bottle of cola. He liked the restaurant Lydia had chosen, especially when he saw the toilets there were gender neutral. Even though he only sort of needed a pee at that point, he decided that it would be best to relieve himself before they left.
But, the cola still hadn’t filtered through him at that time, there was more liquid that his body was going to want to expel soon… And it just HAD to decide it was time to do that when the subway ground to a random, screeching halt in the middle of his journey home.
Avery winced hard as the jerking below his feet made his urinary sphincters flare. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Before Lydia could answer him, an announcement from overhead did it for her. The train conductor informed all of the passengers that they were delayed because… A group of chicken were walking along the rail.
What.
“Is… Is that a joke?” Avery asked.
“Probably not,” Lydia said. “This has happened a few times. Usually, animal control will come and take care of it.”
“Random chickens just wander around on the tracks often?”
“Well, not chickens,” Lydia admitted. “I think it’s mostly raccoons.”
Avery bounced his knees. “A—And how long do the delays usually last?”
“It shouldn’t be that long,” Lydia assured. “Just… However long it takes them to grab the chickens.”
Avery nodded. He hoped she was right, now that he’d NOTICED his need for a bathroom, it was getting worse a lot faster. ‘Ugh. I shouldn’t have gotten a drink with caffeine,’ he thought, swinging his feet out before pulling them back in, trying to distract his body from the pressure inside of it. ‘That stuff always goes straight through me…’
His fidgeting was doing very little to get his mind off of peeing. He didn’t have much else to focus on, his phone’s battery had died earlier in the day, and he didn’t have any other form of entertainment with him. Plus, they were underground, even looking out the window didn’t provide him with anything new to focus his brain on.
Boredom always seemed to give his body a megaphone, with nothing else to think about, any discomforts he may have felt would inevitably amplify. And, his bladder was feeling really uncomfortable right about then. He leaned forward and back as he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Half an hour ticked by, and Avery was getting a lot more antsy. He supposed the worst part of all this was how he didn’t have any way to find out how much longer he was going to have to wait. The uncertainty was making his bladder spasm. If someone told him that the train would get moving again in twenty minutes, then he wouldn’t have a problem…
His fingers were curling tightly against the edge of his seat as his feet tapped rhythmically against the floor. He just wished he had something to look at, something to draw his attention… This would be so much easier if he could only get himself to stop THINKING about it! He sighed, exhaling a long breath that only made him more aware of how taut the skin around his bladder was growing. “How much longer?”
“I don’t know,” Lydia said. “Guess the chickens are hard to catch. But, it shouldn’t be THAT much longer. Don’t worry, you won’t have to try going to sleep down here.”
Sleeping was the least of Avery’s concerns. His bladder had gotten him pretty alert. He kept shifting his hips, grinding himself against his seat. He tried to imagine himself somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t so boring. He pictured himself at Coney Island with Lydia… They’d gone there a couple times together, and those trips had been lots of fun. Lydia was scared of heights, so Avery had ridden the rollercoaster on his own, but they’d been side by side for the entire rest of the day.
Well. Except for the couple minutes Avery had spent in the restroom. Avery had waited a bit too long that day, he’d been having too much fun to stop and go pee. Then, when he went on the rollercoaster for the third time, his bladder punished him for ignoring it. Every tilt and change in gravity, the way too fast motion, his bladder screamed and seared at all of it, demanding relief. The instant he was off the ride, he was babbling to Lydia, “I gotta— I need to go now, okay? B—Be right back!” and running to the toilets as fast as he could for a VERY relieving pee.
Now, Avery tensed his thighs as he sat on the subway, his fantasy had done nothing to quell the surges rippling inside his bladder. He tipped his head back, staring up at the dull grey ceiling of the train car. He kicked his feet out again, hurriedly pulling them back in close. He did this a few more times. It didn’t help.
He tried to come up with a new imaginary scenario, tried to name all the places he’d rather be spending his time right now. ‘The movie theater would be fun… I like Times Square too, dunno why Lydia hates it… Oh, and the park is cool, and— Ah, the bathroom at the restaurant you were just in was nice, you should have stayed there longer, you should have known you were gonna need to go again after the caffeine!’
He shook his head back and forth, as if it were an etch-a-sketch and he could erase the thoughts he didn’t like from it. ‘Mmmf, stop thinking about that! There are way cooler places than bathrooms! Like, that skyscraper Lydia likes so much, that place is neat! Isn’t it weird how the only toilets you’re allowed to use are on one floor close to the top? It’s so big, I KNOW there are more in there, but you have to go to, like, the 86th floor or something if you need to—‘
‘STOP IT,’ Avery pleaded with himself. But, it was too late, his bladder had taken complete control over his brain, and the more he tried to shut it up, the louder it got. He crossed his legs and jiggled in his seat, balling his hands into fists uselessly. “Lydia, how much longer?” he asked again. He knew he was whining, but he was seriously losing his patience!
“Avery, I’m sorry,” Lydia said. “I don’t know why it’s taking so long this time. Are you bored?”
“Yes, but…” Avery flinched. He lowered his voice. “Um… I also have to use the restroom.”
“Didn’t you go before we left?” Lydia asked.
She hadn’t meant to do it, but calling attention to the fact that he was bursting to pee after having just used the toilet not too long ago really embarrassed him. Plus, she’d said that much too loudly. Everyone on their car probably heard it nice and clearly! “I did,” he whispered. “I just gotta go again. Bad.”
“Well…We can find you a place to go as soon as we’re out of here,” Lydia promised.
Avery’s knees knocked together as he fought not to ask, yet again, how much longer that was going to take. ‘She doesn’t know,’ he kept scolding himself. ‘Just hold it.’
His bladder argued with him that he SHOULDN’T hold it. It tried to persuade him to ask Lydia for a bottle, to stand in the corner and urinate into it, to get the relief that it wanted so much. He did his best to ignore those pleas, doing that would be utterly wrong. There was no way he could get away with it without EVERYONE in the train car knowing EXACTLY what he was doing.
So, as uncomfortable as it was, he HAD to hold it in. “Lydia?” he asked. “Could you… Um… Distract me somehow? I don’t have my phone, and… Like, ALL I can think about right now is… You know…”
So, Lydia tried her best to take Avery’s mind off of his bladder. She talked to him about sky-scrapers, and about hockey, but Avery’s one-track brain managed to bring BOTH of those back to the subject of peeing. Sky-scrapers would have TONS of toilets, so many that nobody would ever have to wait in line if they really had to go!
And, the last time he went to a hockey game with Lydia, he’d gotten a tad desperate, and the trough urinal had SERIOUSLY freaked him out. There were no partitions, and everyone was just kinda… Crowded around it with very little personal space. Avery had approached it, hand at his zipper, then he felt a flash of anxiety so intense that his chest had felt like it was going to explode even faster than his bladder was. The panic had caused a spurt to leak into his pants, but he’d also frozen in place, unable to go use the thing that would let him get relief.
He’d ducked his head and gone towards the stalls instead, jiggling in place as he waited for one to open. He was sure he couldn’t have been the only guy there who thought the trough was too freaky to use, so other people must have been using the stalls just to pee, too. Hopefully that meant his wait wouldn’t be TOO long.
A stall became available right away and Avery rushed into it. He remembered feeling a silly bit of anxiety THEN too, and for some reason leaving the door to his stall OPEN while he urinated made him feel a fresh wave of confidence in himself.
“I— I don’t know why that made me feel better,” Avery said now. “It just did.”
Lydia stared at him, “Um… You wanted me to make you think of something OTHER than peeing, right?”
“Y—Yeah…” Avery nervously tugged at his hat with one hand as the other anxiously tapped atop his jiggling knee. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I can’t STOP thinking about it!”
“Um… Okay,” Lydia tried to come up with something that Avery couldn’t POSSIBLY connect to urinating. But, if so much as mentioning a place that had a toilet was enough to do that, that would be hard. Most places in the city HAD toilets, after all. Sometimes they’d be out of order, or so grody they were unusable, but they still at least EXISTED.
Lydia HAD left the city a few times… To go to a DIFFERENT huge city where her Dad was filming something for his TV show. So, telling Avery about those trips could inadvertently remind him of peeing, too.
Avery DIDN’T always live here though, and from the way he talked about being in the city, it was a major adjustment for him. He’d grown up pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so that meant he must have gone to plenty of places that didn’t have indoor plumbing or toilets. “Uh… What was it like where you grew up?” she asked.
“Well, i—it wasn’t like here,” Avery said, bouncing his knees and rocking forward and back. “I had to get up super early just to catch the bus to school because we lived so far away from it. Imagine having to get up at 4AM every single day.”
“Ouch…”
“I was the first one getting picked up, and I’d be riding on that thing for four hours while the driver got everyone else. Once I was so groggy and tired that I forgot to—“ Avery stopped himself. “I forgot to… Do something really important before I got on the bus for the long ride. And then I was real uncomfortable until I got to school.”
“Avery…” Lydia said.
“I know, I’m trying!” Avery complained. “Maybe if I…” he brought his legs up onto the seat with him and tucked them beneath his body, rocking firmly against his feet. “O—Okay, this helps some…” He clenched his eyes shut and took some steadying breaths. The nerve-endings around his urethra continued to flare as they fought against the heavy weight pressing down on them. “S—So, yeah. Gotta get up at 4AM every day for school. Sometimes I’d try and sleep on the bus, and normally I’d be able to do that for at least a little bit, but…” He hesitated.
“What?”
“Uh… You know how Lawrence is?” Avery asked.
“Of course.”
“Well… Um… Up here, it’s like… Like, a lot of people don’t act the same way Lawrence does. I mean, SOME do, but it’s not… Well, where I come from, basically EVERYBODY acted like Lawrence. All the other kids at school, all the teachers, the guidance counsellor… My… Um… Well, anyway, when the other kids started getting on the bus, they were… Not nice to me. They called me awful things, sometimes they’d hit me and stuff… The bus driver never told them to stop. He even encouraged it. All the adults at school encouraged it… I would go to a teacher or somebody and ask for help, I’d say, like ‘Colby hit me in the jaw and now I lost my tooth.’ And I’d get ‘You need to stop drawing all this attention to yourself. If you got a boyfriend, all this teasing would stop. And, it was just a baby tooth. Suck it up.’”
“Someone knocked out your tooth?” Lydia asked, shocked. She’d had a tooth knocked out once when she was ten, but that was during a hockey game and it had been a complete accident. The person that had slammed into her too hard apologized, the coach had gotten her ice to help with the pain, and a few months later her new tooth grew in just fine.
“Yeah, that happened a few times. And not just baby ones,” Avery opened his mouth really wide. Lydia looked inside and saw that one of his bottom teeth way in the back was gone, just a gap left in its place. “I hadn’t even— I hadn’t come out or anything yet back then,” he added. “I was still pretending to be a girl, I still… Had the long hair and all that. But, everyone could just… Tell that something was ‘off’ about me. And they didn’t like it… So I didn’t like it, either. I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, just that it must have been something bad, and that if I made ‘it’ go away, my life would be better. I’d have friends, and my parents would stop being ashamed of me.”
“Could your parents tell before you… Told them?” Lydia asked.
“Not exactly, I don’t think the people at school knew exactly what was going on, either,” Avery said. “But, my parents knew SOMETHING was different, and it made them angry. An—Another thing, back where I used to live, it was super popular to make your daughters do these beauty pageant things. They’re awful, you have to dress up in these ridiculous frilly outfits, and dance around for some judges— It’s honestly kinda creepy when you think about it. I never even really figured out exactly WHAT we were getting judged ON, but whatever it was must have been something that I was AWFUL at because I always got last place. Eventually, my parents started getting really angry every time I came in last. Apparently I didn’t ‘walk like a lady’, whatever that even means.”
“Did you ever get to do anything fun back there?”
Avery leaned back and looked at the ceiling. He winced, being reminded of his CURRENT problem when he felt his skin grow taut around his midsection. He shifted in his seat a little, now sitting on top of his OTHER foot. For some reason, that felt like an improvement. “Well, I liked to just… Wander around the farm some. My parents’ farm was really big, you could explore there for hours almost. And, I liked the cows. And the chickens. They were nice. But…”
“But…?”
“I didn’t… Realize what was happening to them until I got older,” Avery explained. “Or, maybe I did, but I just didn’t really ‘get’ it. Just, some days I’d go to see the animals and find one missing. I either thought, or just pretended to myself, that it must have run away. But, then my Dad said he was going to take me hunting. And, at first I was happy, because all the boys where I lived went hunting with their dads, so I thought ‘Oh, he figured it out without me having to say it!’ And, I figured the hunting would help me feel more like a man… And instead… I— I did shoot the gun, I did shoot… A deer. And I didn’t feel like a man. I felt like I’d just killed a defenseless animal for no reason.”
“So, that’s how you realized what was happening to the farm animals?”
“Not exactly…” Avery said. “That night, Mom made meatloaf and… Suddenly I couldn’t make myself eat it. I’d never really understood until right then that all the meat used to be something alive, and I just… Couldn’t eat it. I tried, but it got stuck in my mouth and I couldn’t swallow it. I told my parents I didn’t think I could eat animals anymore because it made me feel bad. And they were angry. They said so long as I lived under their roof, I was going to do everything the way they wanted. So, if they said I was eating meat, I was going to eat meat. My Dad told me ‘You’re eleven fucking years old. You don’t make decisions about your life. That’s my job.’ And he hit me. So, I tried to eat the meatloaf, and all I could see was the look in that deer’s eyes as I shot it because my Dad had told me to, because I thought doing that would somehow make me a ‘real’ man. And… I threw up. All over the table. So Dad hit me more, and he shouted about how meat was how we afforded a place to live, and I guess that’s when it finally clicked where all the animals kept disappearing to.”
“That’s really terrible,” Lydia said. “They were really controlling, huh?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “They controlled everything.” He switched his feet around again, dug his fists down on top of his knees as he rocked. “They literally called me their ‘property’ a bunch of times when I was a kid. They acted like they were joking, but they weren’t because that’s actually how they saw me. Only places I could get away from them were at school—but then I’d just have to deal with even more people just like them— or outside on the farm— but that was less fun when I realized what was happening to the animals.”
“What about your room?” Lydia asked.
“That’s…” Avery shifted around once more, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was down to his bladder or just because he was having a difficult time speaking about these things. Either way, he couldn’t stay still at all anymore. “Well, when I was I think around seven years old, I woke up one morning and the door was stuck. Like, the lock got twisted on its own, so I couldn’t—“
“Did you not know how to unlock it?”
“I did, but the thing was, my Dad switched the knob around on my door so that he could lock me in if I did something wrong,” Avery stated. There was something very disturbing about the way he’d said it, like he was describing the fact that grass was green, something completely normal and expected. “But… Uh, anyway, since it was first thing in the morning, and it was the weekend and I’d gotten to sleep in, I had to… Go. A lot. Like, as bad as I gotta go right now. So, I started pounding on the door and yelling for help, which got my parents furious because I’d woken them up.”
“Did they let you out?” Lydia really hoped so. She was trying so hard to distract him, but so far all she was doing was making him think of really awful, sad things.
“So, yeah, something was actually wrong with the lock, when Dad switched the knob around something came out of place and so the lock was just stuck at that point. And, he started trying to take it apart, and I asked him, you know, ‘Please hurry, I really have to use the bathroom, I can’t hold it.’ And, for some reason that got him angrier, and he yelled at me. ‘If you wanna complain, fix it yourself.’ And he just walked away. And, I couldn’t fix it, I didn’t have the tools for that, I didn’t know how… And I peed on the floor after a while. Cried a lot, and Dad ended up breaking the door down to yell at me to shut up and punish me for wetting the carpet. After that, he said I wasn’t responsible enough to have a door for my room, so he took it off the hinges and he never got another one. So, I never had privacy if I was in the house after that. I asked for a door lots of times, and my Dad got super mad because I’d called it ‘my room’. He explained that he owned the house, so it wasn’t my room and I didn’t deserve any privacy if I was in someone else’s house.
“But, because I asked for a door, he figured that meant I was hiding something, so he tore apart my room looking for… I don’t know, maybe drugs, I guess. He didn’t find any, of course. But, I guess he was determined to find SOMETHING he could punish me for, because when he finally accepted that I didn’t have drugs, he found my journal. I still didn’t know I was… Me yet back then. So, there was nothing in there about that, there was some stuff about how I was confused and felt bad, but that was all, it was super vague because I just didn’t know. But, the thing was, I wasn’t supposed to have a journal AT ALL, because that would mean I was keeping secrets and being dishonest and stuff. So he was mad that it was even in the room. He read, like, the first page, which I swear was just something I’d learned about pufferfish, and he lost it. He tore the thing to complete shreds. I was finding pieces of the paper around the room for years afterwards, that’s how many tiny bits he broke it up into.”
“Do you have a new journal now?”
Avery shook his head. “Nope, I never really thought about getting another. I liked having it, but… It was dumb to leave my thoughts laying around where someone could see them.”
“I think you’d like to have another one,” Lydia said.
“Maybe,” Avery said. “I mean, if I had one right NOW I’d probably just write page after page of ‘I really need to pee’, so nothing TOO deep, right?”
“Still have to go?”
Avery shrugged, “Nah, the pee just evaporated. It was quite miraculous.” A sharp pinch at his urethral opening made him dearly wish that that was true.
Lydia frowned, “I— I’m sorry, that was silly—“
“It’s fine,” Avery said. “I think this has distracted me some. Almost. I hadn’t really thought about all the stuff they did to me growing up, I usually only think about the… The ‘big thing’ that they did to me.”
“The…” Lydia trailed off. She wasn’t sure what to call the place Avery had been sent to. It was CALLED a therapy center, but there wasn’t any therapy taking place inside it, so the name was wrong. “The place they made you go to?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “It’s weird, some days I remember EVERYTHING about that place, like the way it smelled and how many tiles were on the ceiling in certain rooms. And, other days it’s like it’s all blocked out, just this blank, foggy space… Except, I always remember the room with the shock chair, and the tiny isolation room, too,” Avery placed his feet back onto the ground, suddenly scrunching up super tightly on himself wasn’t helping his bladder feel better anymore. “I wish that I didn’t. Like, if there was some kinda machine that could zap memories out of your brain forever, I’d pay all of my life savings to be able to use it.”
His feet tapped against the ground, he wanted to stop thinking about the isolation room, but now he could only think about IT and about needing to pee. And about all the times he’d needed to pee while inside of IT. His breathing was picking up, chest tightening and, along with it, his bladder was cramping in on itself too, making him feel all the more desperate to go.
Lydia heard his breathing starting to accelerate, and knew that was a bad sign since he was just SITTING there, squirming about. “What’s your favorite memory?” she asked. “One that you wouldn’t want to have zapped away?”
“When Uncle Brad got me,” Avery answered immediately. He hadn’t needed even one second to think it over. It was no contest. He tensed his thighs as a new wave of pressure soared up in his bladder, but his breathing was becoming more even again. “He’s never said what he did to get my parents to tell him where I was, but… He did it. And then he flew all the way across the world to come get me. When they told me someone was there to see me, I thought my parents had changed their minds or something, so I expected to see them and I was just scared. But, when I saw it was Uncle Brad, I just started to cry because it seemed too good to be real. He actually ran to me and hugged me, and it was the first time I’d had someone touch me in a way that didn’t hurt in a real long time. It was the first I’d felt like someone loved me, and I couldn’t stop crying.
“But, he was also looking me over a lot. I had bruises everywhere, and there were burn marks in a lot of places too, and I… I only weighed, like, eighty pounds by that point so I was, like, skeletal. They didn’t feed us much, and towards the end I wasn’t keeping much down anyway. Uncle Brad sort of just lost it and, you know, he’s a lawyer… So, he was just shouting at them that they either had to let him take me home or he’d ‘rain Holy Hell down on them’. He also used a bunch of legal words I didn’t really understand. I don’t know if the people at the center knew what any of it meant, either, but it got them to listen to him. He was able to take me away from there. And that was, like, the first time I’d even been outside in months, and that made me cry too.
“He asked me what I wanted to do, kept talking about finding me some food… But, like, they made me wear this hideous dress covered in ruffles and bows— The sort of thing I wouldn’t wear even if I WAS a girl— and so the first thing I wanted was to take the stupid thing OFF. He’d actually expected that, so he brought me back to his rented car and had me change into something he’d bought for me, but he was upset by how loose the clothes were on me and how much weight I’d lost, so he really wanted to get me some food. He took me to the airport to bring me home and got me lots to eat there. Airport food’s usually gross, but it tasted super good that day because I hadn’t eaten much for so long.
“I was super clingy to Brad the whole time we were going home, and the flight was super long, and… Well, since I didn’t want to leave his side even when we were on the plane, I… Ended up… Holding it.”
That was the only part of the rescue that hadn’t felt wonderful to Avery. He knew deep down that he was safe once he’d gotten on the plane, that there was no possible way someone could pop out and drag him back to Hell just because he’d walked too far away from Brad. Except, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the danger was still there. He’d spent so long being tense and scared that he didn’t know how to feel safe anymore unless someone was there to protect him.
So, when all the big sodas he’d guzzled at the airport started to hit his bladder, he held it. And the flight just went on and on. Avery still didn’t know exactly WHERE the conversion center was located, just that it wasn’t in the United States. He had no idea how far away he was from his home country, how long he’d be stuck holding in his pee.
The most annoying thing was that he could see the bathroom from his seat, he was just too scared to move and go use it. He’d crossed his legs tightly and stared out the window, but there wasn’t much to see out there.
“When I get you home, we can get your hair cut if you’d like,” Brad had offered.
Avery nodded. He WOULD like that a lot. His long hair drove him crazy, it was always in the way. For a while, he managed to distract himself by picturing how he’d look once it was fixed.
“And, I’ve been doing research. I can buy you something to help with your chest,” Brad had added. “I haven’t gotten anything yet because I didn’t know what size to pick, but I’ve got you other things. You’ll see, the spare room in my apartment is yours now. It’s a bit of a mess, but I tried to find stuff you’d like. Got you some clothes. I know you like fish, so there’s an aquarium— But there aren’t any fish in there yet, you’ll have to come with me to pick some ou—“
“Wait,” Avery interrupted. “I thought you were taking me back to my parents’ place.”
Brad frowned. He went quiet for a second. “Bud, um… I’m sure this isn’t going to make you feel very good. I’m sorry. But, the only time you’re going to see your parents after this is in court.”
“What?”
“They…” Brad ran a hand through his hair. There was really no good way to say something like this. “When I got them to tell me where you were, when I said I was getting you out, they said… That if you are going to live your life this way, they don’t…”
“They don’t want to be a part of it,” Avery finished for him, voice dull. He’d expected that. He’d also expected that hearing it be confirmed would make him cry. But, it didn’t for some reason. He didn’t feel like crying. His parents may have been readying themselves to formally disown him, but the reality was that they’d disowned him a very long time ago. This wasn’t a big change.
“I’m sorry,” Brad told him. “I… Don’t know what happened to my brother. I’ve spent years trying to figure it out. But, I promise, I’ll do everything I can to be the parent that you deserve to have.”
Avery nodded. Uncle Brad had always been kind to him. Uncle Brad had saved him. He was already doing a better job than his birth parents had.
The flight had continued to wear on, and Avery was getting very uncomfortable. It was hard to sit still for so many long hours, particularly after chugging four large sodas. He’d grown very twitchy, shimmying against his seat and clenching his fingers tightly against the armrests as his knees bounced.
“Don’t be nervous,” Brad told him. “You’re safe now.”
Avery repeated that to himself. He was safe now, so it was okay to detach himself from his uncle for a couple minutes so he could use the toilet. But, he couldn’t make his legs move. They just buzzed with tension and anxiety and stayed glued to their places. He heard the seatbelt lights ding and hoped that meant they were landing. He was excited to see the room Uncle Brad had made for him, but he was far more excited to see the toilet in the apartment first.
The only issue was that putting the tight strap of the seatbelt across his stomach really upset his poor bladder. At least they were landing… It was almost over.
To his immense dismay, he learned a few seconds later that they WEREN’T actually landing. Instead, the plane hit a patch of turbulence, jolting up and down and side to side. The movement sent immediate waves of pain through Avery’s bladder, creating even more awful pressure inside it. His legs and abdominal muscles clenched so tightly that his thighs shook. He kept glancing ahead, looking longingly at the door to the toilet. But, now that he had to stay seated, he couldn’t get up and go there even if he suddenly felt brave enough to do it.
The turbulence stopped after about twenty minutes, and the seatbelt lights switched off. Avery was crossing his legs and bouncing up and down, hoping and praying that they would actually be landing soon. “H—How much l—longer?” Avery winced out.
“We’re a really long way from home,” Uncle Brad said. “It’s gonna be a few more hours…”
The thought of hours squeezed a fist around Avery’s bladder with fear. He couldn’t wait hours. He had to go NOW.
Brad was quiet for a second. “Bud… All that shaking made me need to use the restroom,” he said. “You should go now too, since I’m getting up.”
Avery relaxed immediately. He could stay close to Brad AND relieve himself. He nodded quickly. “Um… Y—Yeah. I have to go a lot all of the sudden. The…Um… The bumps did it.”
Avery knew Brad could tell he’d been needing to go for a long time, especially when they got to the restroom and Brad insisted that Avery should use it first. But, he didn’t care. He was about to feel so much better, and then he’d be able to focus just on how happy he was to have gotten away from that terrible place.
Avery sat on the toilet and peed for what felt like ages, feeling so much better, so much more at ease, he felt safe and loved for the first time in so long. As he’d gushed, the exhaustion of the last several months, during which he’d barely ever managed to get a full night’s sleep, finally hit him and he struggled to keep his eyes open.
Now, stuck on the subway, remembering all that, Avery fanned his legs in and out and bounced them up and down so quickly that his ankles started to go numb. None of it helped. “Wh—Why c—can’t subway trains have toilets on them, too?” he asked Lydia. “Planes have th—them!”
“Well, normally you aren’t on the subway that long,” Lydia pointed out.
Avery whimpered, shifting his hips as he tightened his hands into fists so hard that his knuckles whitened. “They should still put some on the trains, for when they get stuck like this,” he said. He needed the bathroom so much by that point that he felt like he was going to squirm out of his skin.
Lydia felt more than a little defeated. All her attempts at distraction had either dredged up awful memories for Avery, or caused him to circle back around to his all-consuming urge to urinate. She tried to think of a NEW topic, but she’d talked about all her favorite things, and learned more about Avery’s past already.
Right. She’d talked about HER favorite things. She’d talked about skyscrapers and sports. She should have been talking to Avery about things HE liked. Although, Avery’s favorite subject was fish… Would a topic so tied to water really be a good thing to focus on right now? “Um… Why do you like fish so much?” she asked.
Avery tapped his foot harshly against the ground. “Because they’re always… They st—stay together. They don’t leave each other out, or abandon one another. It’s just an ins—instinct for them to stay in large groups so they can help each other stay safe, or find food or swim better. And they wa—watch each other, too, so that their group doesn’t get separated.”
“Oh…” Lydia said. “Do you have—“
Before she could finish her next question, there was an announcement overhead. The issue with the chickens had been resolved and the train was able to start moving again.
“Ohhhh, thank God…” Avery murmured. “Finally!” But, when the train DID begin to move, Avery realized he’d celebrated a bit too soon. The sudden jolting and vibration beneath his feet was not helping him, even the knowledge that relief was getting closer and closer wasn’t particularly helpful. He didn’t want to be peeing ten minutes from now, he wanted to be peeing right this second!
He just had to hold on a little bit longer, just a tiny bit more and the awful pressure would be able to fade. The train turned slightly, and Avery’s urine followed the movement, pushing itself even harder against his urethral opening. He braced himself as the train started to slow down, as this happened Avery felt like he was being pulled forwards and he tensed himself up hard. He just couldn’t handle much more pressure on his bladder! He felt like he was going to pee himself if the vibrations didn’t end! He squirmed and tightened himself so much that he was suddenly completely out of his seat.
On his feet now, a barrage of pressure slammed into him with so much force that he grabbed himself. His muscles were twitching from the effort required to keep his pee at bay. His sphincters were weakening, so exhausted. He wanted to let them relax, if only for a second. That would feel so, so good…
No, he had to hold on. He’d held it through the entire delay, no way was he losing it now! But, it felt like his urine had a mind of its own and was actually trying to form an escape plan to get away from the horrific pressure being placed onto it. His bladder was twisting around inside his gut, trying to squeeze the urine right out of him whether he wanted it out or not.
“Nnnnnhh!!” Avery winced out involuntarily, expression twisting from the torment.
“Almost, Avery…” Lydia said. “You can do it!”
Avery froze, feeling a burning heat trail up his neck and across his face. “Oh, God… You’re pep-talking me!”
“I— I know you can make it!” Lydia carried on. “You’re really close!”
Avery was jiggling up and down, his hands digging between his thighs, and when the train finally stopped and the doors slid open, Avery’s bladder felt like it was twisting around again. He tensed each and every muscle inside his body, but could feel urine pulsing hard against his opening. ‘Hold it, hold it, you can find a toilet now!’ he kept reminding himself as he nervously and slowly hobbled for the doorway.
His legs were crossed so tightly that he could barely walk, and he knew everyone could see that his hands were pressed into his crotch, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting to somewhere that he could find relief.
Lydia followed after him, and as soon as he was out of the train, he was so doubled over that it was a fight not to collapse completely onto his knees. Lydia saw his shirt ride up a little, and her eyes widened when she realized there was a foreign bit of distention in his lower belly now. “Lydia,” he said. “Please tell me this station is one that has a bathroom. I don’t care how gross it is, I just… Don’t wanna climb stairs right now.”
Lydia shook her head sympathetically. “Th—There isn’t one here, but right up the stairs, as soon as you turn left, there’s a pharmacy and you’ll be able to go there.”
Avery didn’t know if he could make it up the stairs. He really, really, really didn’t. Any second now, he was sure pee was going to be pulsing to the ground below him. He was squeezing himself for all he was worth, but could still feel a few leaks trickling down his legs.
Seconds pass and, somehow, Avery managed to quell his leakage enough to start walking again. He was bent over at the waist, but he was at least able to move.
“A—And,” Lydia said. “If it’s— If you don’t make it, that will be okay.”
Avery cringed. He HAD to make it. He absolutely HAD to! But, if he didn’t, he knew Lydia wouldn’t make fun of him. Lydia would probably find him something to cover up with, too. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if—
Gah! What the Hell was he thinking!? But, it was too late, after just the mildest suggestion that relief was acceptable, his bladder twisted itself up yet again and a very long spurt of urine forced its way into his clothes with an audible hiss. “Ack— Hurry!”” Avery stammered, and his tiny, careful steps transformed into frantic, heedless running. Every harsh step sent a new thrash of need through his bladder, caused more liquid to trickle forth out of it. But, Avery couldn’t afford to move slowly anymore, he needed to get to a toilet as soon as humanly possible or he’d explode and drench himself for sure.
He made it to the stairs and came to a sudden stop, doubling over with his hands between his legs. He bounced his weight from one foot to the other, trying to force himself to take the first step.
Lydia caught up to him. “Avery, are you—“
“I— I can’t—“ Avery whimpered. All he wanted was to let go and end his torment! “The stairs…” He tried to explain. “I’m going to pee…”
Lydia glanced all around. There were lots of people, there were always lots of people… Avery looked really, really far gone, though. “Um… Uh…” she lowered her voice. “If you… Can’t make it up the stai—“
“I don’t want to pee myself,” Avery winced, a protesting jet of pee pulsing out to remind him that he’d ALREADY started to do that.
“I wasn’t— Look, it’s… If you… Pee into a trash can down here, or on a wall, you wouldn’t be the first person to do that.”
“But… What if— I don’t wanna get arrested!”
“Even IF you get caught, you don’t go to jail for that,” Lydia said. “They count it as littering. You’d get a fine, I think it’s like one hundred dollars. No jail time, I don’t even think they’d really keep a record of it, either.”
Avery nodded. He was so desperate that he thought it would be worth losing a hundred dollars if it meant he’d get to go… And besides, Brad was a lawyer, and he’d mentioned something called a ‘necessity defense’ before, where someone commits a crime due to an emergency circumstance. This probably counted, right? He was having a MAJOR emergency, after all! “Okay,” he said. “I can’t— I’ll burst if I go up the stairs.”
Lydia looked around, found a darker area and took Avery that direction. “Just… Pretend you’re looking at your phone, and be really quiet, and maybe nobody will even be able to tell what you’re doing,” she said softly. “I’ll try and block the view of you too.”
Avery’s hands were trembling as he unzipped his pants and aimed at the wall. For the first few seconds, nothing happened. The station was bustling, and he felt like he was on a stage. He felt like everyone was watching and knew exactly what he was about to do.
But, ultimately, Avery had to pee much too badly for his nervousness to lock him up for that long. Soon enough, the walls of his aching bladder were squeezing together and liquid was being pumped out of him. Avery’s ears burned, hyper-aware of the hissing and splattering noise his release made.
He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Just… Letting it out inside a busy subway station. What if there was a cop or a security guard watching? What if he got a fine? What if Lydia was wrong and he really WOULD go to jail for this? Would Brad be able to help then?
Avery was so nervous about these things that he didn’t feel much relief. He was more focused on just getting all of this pee OUT of him as fast as he could before anyone caught on to what he was doing. If he could just get himself nice and empty, he wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. He gritted his teeth as he pushed down, trying to pee quickly, yet not SO quickly that he overflowed the STP and just wound up wetting his pants anyway.
He remembered Lydia telling him to pretend he was just looking at his phone, but he knew the way he was standing— legs apart, head bowed, hands around his front— was a pretty clear indication that he was actually peeing— Even if nobody was close enough to see or hear the thin, clear stream still jetting out of his body. Avery felt so self conscious right now that it was almost like he was watching himself from outside of his own body.
After another few seconds, he wondered if he should just clamp it off. He’d gotten some of it out, so maybe he could make it up the stairs to a proper toilet now. But, when he tried to interrupt his stream, his bladder just gave a lurching shudder that caused him to void even more strongly. He couldn’t stop going. He was gonna be stuck here, feeling anxious, until he was fully drained.
He shut his eyes, hoping that might calm him down a bit. He could still hear the bustling of people and the screeching of the trains, but he couldn’t see the wall in front of him anymore. That helped him focus a little more on the sensations of his poor bladder slowly shrinking down as his liquid sprayed out. Wow, that felt good… He actually had to gnash his teeth a bit to keep from making any noises of relief.
It took over a minute for his stream to start winding down, and then another five seconds before he was finally finished. He shook out the STP and zipped himself up, opening his eyes and turning, dreading what he’d see. But, there were no cops, no security officers, no disgusted strangers staring at him. Just his friend still vigilantly keeping watch. “O—Okay, I’m done now,” he whispered. “Did anyone see?”
“I don’t think so,” Lydia said.
Avery heaved a very long overdue sigh of relief, shoulders sagging. “Ahhhh… Good. Thank you so much.” |
Written for the Omovember prompt "Dressed As The Opposite Sex".
This one is dark. Warnings for conversion therapy, transphobia, deadnaming, abuse, and self-harm.
***
The isolation room was the second worst place in the conversion therapy center. Second worst only because nothing could ever outdo the shock chair. In the isolation room, Avery was forced to lay facedown on a dirty, ice-cold concrete floor twenty-four hours a day, save for a few brief respites.
Every twelve hours, one of his ‘therapists’ would silently escort him to the restroom, then Avery would be allowed to sit on the toilet for no longer than two minutes and do whatever he needed to do. He would not be permitted to shut the door, but the ‘therapist’ would face away from him. When this was first explained to him, it was in a tone that suggested he should feel grateful that they weren’t going to full-on stare at him the entire time he relieved himself.
After the toilet break, he would be sat down at a vacant table and given a tray. The tray always held the same things; half of a peeled orange and a thin slice of cheese wedged between two slices of bread. This would be all of the food he received each day that he was in isolation— Which was only slightly less than he got normally at this center. His stomach clawed at him nonstop, he’d never been so hungry before in his life.
They’d give him water during his ‘meals’ as well, a big bottle of it. Avery would always drink it all just to try and make his stomach feel less empty. He’d always regret it.
If Avery spoke at any point during his time outside the isolation room, he would be sent right back inside. If he hadn’t peed or eaten yet before breaking the silence rule, he would have to wait until his next break for another chance to do those things.
This hadn’t been explained to him the very first time he’d been placed in isolation. The door had opened, a woman gestured for him to stand up and come outside. Avery, whom had been wriggling desperately for the last two hours, eagerly struggled to his feet. He naively assumed his punishment was over and begged for the bathroom straight away. “May I please, please use the toilet now, please? I really need to go!”
The woman had then shaken her head and ordered him to lay back down on the ground. “You aren’t supposed to speak when you’re in isolation,” she informed briskly. “Clearly you need more time before we give you a break.”
Avery’s eyes had welled up then as he heard the door slam shut and lock. Soon enough, he’d made a puddle on the floor, and was forced to lay in it for the next twelve hours as his empty stomach pleaded for food. He stayed quiet the next time the door was opened, and this time the woman sneered at him “Once your punishment is over, you’re cleaning this whole room from top to bottom. Look at yourself, Brittney. You’re disgusting.”
Somehow, being called ‘Brittney’ hurt a billion times worse than being called ‘disgusting’.
Avery had felt incredibly disgusting, following after the woman to the restroom that he was once more desperate to use, his damp underwear coldly clinging to him. He’d sat himself on the toilet and released his poor bladder, sniffling and fighting not to cry.
He was then given his food, which he finished in under a minute. Then the water, which ensured he’d be dying to pee yet again soon enough. To his dismay, he was not given a change of clothes, just placed back into the empty room still wearing his soaked, sticky ones. He didn’t care that he’d pissed all over the ugly-ass dress he was being forced to wear, but he DID care that he was being forced to continue stewing in his own waste.
Avery’s first stint in isolation lasted for a week. He wasn’t allowed clean clothes until he was finally released, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to wash himself until then either. He wet himself a few more times over the course of those days, too. Twelve hours was just too long for him, and sometimes they’d ‘forget’ that it was his break time and leave him in even longer. By the end of it, he reeked of urine and sweat, his eyes were sunken in, his face was pale, and he’d lost five pounds.
After his first stint in isolation, Avery tried his best not to get sent back in. The problem was, he could be sent to isolation for anything.
Sometimes, the ‘therapists’ asked Avery lots of questions about why he’d ‘chosen’ to do something that hurt his parents and would damn him to Hell. He learned very early on not to argue with them about how being trans hadn’t been a choice that he’d made, but none of the other answers he came up with were ever satisfactory either. Saying “It was wrong of me, I will try harder to stop being this way,” which was what he’d been SURE they’d wanted to hear, still got him slapped and called names. He tried throwing out line after line, hoping he’d hit upon something that made them stop, but it never did. Before long, they’d grown fed up with it and tossed him back into isolation for the next week.
Another time, Avery had woken up in his bed in the middle of the night and just begun uncontrollably sobbing. He didn’t even really know why. But, crying and making noise in the night wasn’t allowed in the therapy center, so he was dragged from his bed and into the isolation room still wearing the stupid, frilly nightgown they’d given him.
What had gotten him sent to isolation this time was ‘fighting’. But, Avery wasn’t sure if that was the right word for what he’d done. His ‘therapists’ had brought him back into the room where the shock chair was and he’d just… Broken down at the sight of it. He couldn’t fully remember what all had happened, just that he’d screamed enough that now his throat ached, and that it had ended with him being held down by two of the buffer ‘therapists’ before being dragged to isolation.
He laid on the floor now like he was supposed to, his body shaking so hard it was vibrating against the cold ground. He could hardly breathe; shortness of breath had become a common thing for him lately. Sometimes he’d just start hyperventilating at complete random. It was like an asthma attack, except Avery didn’t have asthma…
Tears were going down his face, but he cried so often now that he barely noticed them. He knew the point of isolation was, allegedly, for him to think long and hard about why he’d been sent to this center, and that was what he tried to do whenever he was in here. Avery had always thought his parents were wrong for sending him away, and that the people here were monsters. But, the longer he endured the ‘treatment’, the more convinced he became that HE was the real monster, that he really did have to be fixed.
When these thoughts creeped in, Avery tried to shut them out. He hadn’t done anything wrong. All he wanted was to be himself. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? He stared at the blank wall in front of him, eyes darting from it to all the others, and to the heavy, locked metal door. He was trapped in this room, but even after someone came and released him, he’d still be just as trapped. There was no escape from this place. None at all. The door that led outside was secured with a special code that only the ‘therapists’ knew. Avery hadn’t been outdoors since the day he’d arrived here. He hadn’t felt the sun in so long.
There weren’t many windows in this building, but from what Avery could see, it looked like this place was located in a forest. Even if he managed to guess the code and run outside, he’d just get lost in an unfamiliar place, no doubt found by one of his jailers before long. He didn’t even want to think about what his punishment would be after that.
Avery felt like he’d been here for half his life, though he knew that couldn’t have been true. He had no idea when he’d be released. Or even IF he would be released. He’d asked a few times how long he had until he could go home, but he’d never gotten an answer. For all he knew, he would be spending the rest of his life here.
More tears. There was nothing Avery had to look forward to anymore, every day was going to be the same. Painful, humiliating, and filled with people hellbent on destroying him. He already felt destroyed. He had no love for himself anymore, only hatred. He had no love for anyone else, either. His parents had done this to him, the people he’d thought would always take care of him. How could he ever trust another person now?
There was only one person Avery still had any confidence in; His Uncle Brad who lived in New York City. He’d been emailing Brad a lot up until his parents had him shipped off here. Avery had had no idea he was being sent away and so hadn’t mentioned it in his emails. Uncle Brad might have been worried about him when the correspondence suddenly stopped, especially since so many of the previous messages had been about how scared Avery had been of his parents since he’d come out to them. Uncle Brad must have had some idea that something bad had happened.
Sometimes, in isolation, Avery would fantasize to himself about Brad somehow learning where he was and coming to free him. Brad would hold him close then and promise to never let anyone hurt him ever again. Brad would say the same things he’d said in the emails ‘You can be whoever you want, Avery. No one gets to decide that for you.’ Brad would take him away from here, and buy him a really big dinner, so Avery could stuff himself until he finally felt full instead of listless and empty. Brad would let him sleep in a nice, warm bed that felt safe. Brad would let Avery cry, and wouldn’t beat him or lock him up for it.
Sometimes, Avery would imagine these things so intensely that he’d manage to convince himself they were real, only for something to bring him back to the reality that he was just laying on the cold, hard floor, awaiting his next punishment.
The thing that brought him back to the reality of his situation today was something that had done it many times in the past; His bladder. It was really starting to fill up. For a bit, he tried to distract himself with more fantasies of freedom, but before long all of his pretend scenarios involved Uncle Brad breaking him out of here and rushing him very, VERY quickly to a toilet before doing anything else.
He wriggled his hips, cringing at the way the ruffles in his dress felt against them. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that. If they HAD to force him to wear a dress, why did it have to be such a hideous, frilly one? Even most of the girls he knew back home didn’t wear ridiculous crap like this… He understood the clothing was just one more punishment they’d chosen to inflict on him, but he had to wonder if they honestly thought it was going to accomplish anything; If they seriously believed that by stuffing him into over-the-top girly outfits they’d succeed in turning him into a girl.
Avery didn’t know if his ‘therapists’ seriously believed any of their methods would actually change a person. Being subjected to physical pain over and over again wasn’t going to cause some massive, cosmic change in who a person was, it was just going to hurt them. Avery suspected that ‘hurting people’ was really the only actual goal the ‘therapists’ had here. They probably knew they weren’t ‘curing’ anybody, they just liked to make them suffer.
Laying on top of his stomach for long stretches of time always made Avery’s body start to ache and fill with pins and needles. It was worse when his bladder was throbbing; so much of his weight ended up pressing down against it, mashing the organ between his body and the concrete below him.
Avery rolled over onto his side instead, trying to give his bladder more space. He was going to have to keep an ear out for the door beginning to open. If they found him not laying in the proper position, he’d be denied his toilet break and food. For whatever reason, turning over and finding himself staring at an identical, blank white wall made his heartbeat start to ramp up. He squeezed his eyes tightly trying to block out the sight.
‘Go somewhere better,’ Avery told himself. He used to be better at doing that. He used to have an easier time mentally transporting himself away from this place. It was so hard to do that now. His memories of what laid outside this center were fading rapidly, becoming blurry and hard to see, like they belonged to someone else entirely. Avery didn’t understand why that was happening. Surely, he was way too young to be having such major memory problems.
Now, Avery focused really, really hard on remembering the last time he and his parents had visited Uncle Brad in New York. That had been a lot of fun, until something had happened that made Dad and Uncle Brad have a really huge fight. Avery wasn’t sure what had prompted that and, while he didn’t have a brother, he didn’t think that if he did he’d be able to call him the kinds of things Dad had called Uncle Brad that day…
‘Forget that part,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘Think about the good stuff.’ His bladder pulsed and he thrusted his his hands between his trembling thighs, gritting his teeth. ‘I really need to— Don’t think about that, either. Pretend that you don’t have to pee.’ He knew that was easier said than done, especially with how poorly his imagination was working right now. ‘Think about— Oh, when Uncle Brad showed you and your parents the big zoo…’
Avery focused really, really hard, trying to remember how the air had smelled that day, what the temperature had been like, how windy it had been. ‘You’re there, you’re there, you’re there…’ he chanted in his mind, and it started to actually work. He was with his uncle, who loved him and would keep him safe. He was in New York City, where there weren’t any isolation rooms or shock chairs. He was at the zoo, where there were cute animals instead of people asking him impossible questions and beating him for giving the wrong answers.
He tried to repeat that day inside his head, it had been before the big fight between Dad and Brad, but Brad had been tense anyway when he’d stood beside Avery as he’d watched a polar bear playing with a hunk of ice. Avery had been started at first when Brad leaned down really close to him. “Brittney…?” Brad had said in a low tone. Avery still hadn’t told anyone his new name yet— Or why he was going to NEED a new name. He’d been meaning to do it soon, but he was so scared…
“Hm?” Avery had asked.
“Do you… Feel safe at home?” Brad whispered. “Everything okay?”
Avery didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t feel safe at home, even though he knew he was supposed to. A few months ago, he’d looked up stuff about being trans online. His parents had found his search history, had demanded to know why he was looking at ‘that filth’, asked who was ‘grooming’ him, said a bunch of other stuff that Avery barely understood… They weren’t going to react very well whenever he finally told them, he was sure of that… “Um…” Avery winced at the sound of the polar bear dropping the ice into its pond, suddenly hit by the realization that he’d had two big cups of soda since the last time he’d peed. “I… I feel… Uh…”
“If… If there’s anything you need to tell me, you can, alright?” Brad whispered.
“I… I need to pee…” Avery answered, even though he knew that wasn’t what Brad was concerned with.
Brad grinned and laughed slightly. “Okay, let’s find you somewhere to do that, then.”
It was easy to find the toilets, but when Brad stood beside them to wait, Avery hesitated. His bladder throbbed and pulsed, protesting the delay when he was so close to relief. Public bathrooms had always made Avery feel weird. He’d check the signs over and over before opening one of the doors. Then, once he was in the women’s room, he’d have to sort of… Stare at himself in the mirror and repeat to himself that this was where he was supposed to be. Nevertheless, there was always this feeling that he was breaking a rule by being inside a girls’ bathroom. It had ALWAYS been that way, ever since he was little. It was just, now he understood WHY.
“Go ahead,” Brad said to him. “I’ll wait.”
Avery listened and entered the women’s room. He knew that holding it for much longer would get risky. And his hair was so long, because his parents insisted he keep it that way. His chest was… There. Everyone saw a girl when they looked at him.
He kept his head down as he made his way to a stall, briefly looking at his reflection as he passed the mirrors. ‘You’re not breaking a rule,’ he told himself, just as he had every time he needed to pee in public. Inside the stall, he pulled down his pants and sat. His discomfort grew when he heard two other people come in, in the midst of a conversation. The first woman was saying something about the date she was on, and Avery felt like he was intruding on her privacy.
He squirmed uncomfortably on the toilet seat when, as the ladies’ conversation continued, his bladder decided that it was time to get some major stage-fright. He heard some other stalls being locked, followed by two streams hissing into the toilets. Avery blushed hard, he’d never stop feeling like a perverted peeper in these situations… But, the trickling was enough of a taunt on his own bladder that it unclenched and allowed its contents to gush out of him. He pushed down as hard as he could, trying to finish as fast as possible. Avery could pee really, really fast when he wanted to. And when he was sitting inside a stall in a public women’s room, feeling like a major creep, he ALWAYS wanted to pee fast.
In spite of all the negative emotions, it did feel good to get all this liquid out of his body. He had needed this… He’d needed it so much… He—
In the isolation room, Avery’s eyes popped back open to the awful realization that he wasn’t on the toilet, peeing. He was on the floor, trying to HOLD it. At some point during his daydreaming, his hands had begun to squeeze between his legs. He supposed the only GOOD thing about the dress was how firmly he could dig his hands up against himself when he didn’t have pants in the way of them. ‘Oh my God…’ Avery thought miserably. ‘Fuck, I need a freaking piss…’
He tried to estimate how long he’d been in here, how much time he had left to wait until someone would bring him to the toilet and finally allow him to go. But, that was completely unpredictable. Time moved really, really strangely in Isolation, he had no idea how long it had been since his punishment began, no idea when that door may open and grant him some much needed relief.
Odds were, however long he had left to wait was a lot longer than he could actually hold it. His eyes opened once more and, just as he had many times before, he found himself staring at one corner of the room, the one furthest from where he had to lay down. Like he did every time he got stuck here, he began to fantasize about squatting in that corner and peeing. He imagined the loud, satisfying hiss as he desecrated the ground below him. He imagined how wonderful the shrinking of his bladder would feel. He imagined letting out a nice moan. He imagined pissing all over this Hellish place, drowning it in urine since that was the only tool he had to punish it with.
But, as ever, he then imagined what was sure to happen next. When that door opened, and the massive puddle he’d created was spotted right away. He would be called disgusting again. He would be hit. He would be denied food. Once his bladder re-filled, he’d be made to hold it even longer, and God help him if he used the corner again or peed in his clothes.
The corner was not the answer, as much as he wished it could be. Avery wriggled and writhed, twisting back and forth and back and forth… His hands kneaded against his groin and he just… He just wanted to use the toilet! Once again, he was crying. He just wanted to pee! That was all he wanted! He wasn’t even allowed such a basic, simple thing! He’d been deemed unworthy of even that!
He felt ridiculous, trying so hard not to pee all over clothes that he HATED. The only reason he didn’t just piss them deliberately out of malice and a desire to rid of himself of the awful pressure was because he didn’t want to be forced to SIT in his mess for a whole week again. Except, if that door didn’t open soon he wasn’t going to have a choice in whether or not these clothes were soiled.
Yet another thing he didn’t get to choose. Avery couldn’t have any choices, couldn’t make any decisions for himself. Other people made them for him, and severely punished him if he tried to do anything else.
There he went crying again. He wished he could stop. But, apparently he couldn’t hold in liquid from any part of his body. Tears streamed down his face, and a blast of pee seeped out into his clothes. He felt the warmth clinging to his thighs, and it made him cry more. He was revolting, he was a mistake. It was his own fault he was in here. He shouldn’t have come out to his parents. He knew they weren’t going to be happy, and while he couldn’t have predicted they’d do something THIS extreme to punish him, he should have known it was going to end badly. He should have just kept pretending for them, should have just dropped out of school early and gotten a job so he could move away from them and live his life the way he had to. If he’d done that, he wouldn’t be here.
He would give anything to not be here anymore. Maybe everyone was right, and he just hadn’t put in enough ‘effort’ towards being a girl. He hadn’t tried hard enough. He could be a girl if it got him out of here. He could just… Find some way to stop feeling things. Find some way to switch all his emotions off, until he felt absolutely nothing. So long as everyone else was happy with him, it shouldn’t have mattered how he felt anyway. The ‘therapists’ had told him over and over that his insistence that he was ‘just trying to be himself’ came from a place of utter selfishness and lack of care for the feelings of others. Maybe they were right.
‘You’re a selfish, pointless waste of life,’ Avery thought to himself, repeating what he’d heard hundreds of times. ‘Your existence is revolting, and it destroyed your family. Are you proud of yourself for that? No? Well then why won’t you put the work in to fix it?’
Tears were collecting on the ground beneath his head. His eyes were burning, but he didn’t even have the energy to blink them. Every few seconds, a hissing noise filled the room as tiny squirts of pee spurted out of him. He didn’t think he cared about that, either.
‘When you get out of this room, you’re going to try to behave,’ Avery ordered himself. ‘You’ll figure out the right answers to those questions, and even if you can’t, you won’t cry when they hit you for it. When they take you to the shock chair, just sit down and take it, no more fighting. It’s what you need. Then, when they finally let you out, you’re going to wear nothing but dresses, paint your face with make-up until you’re beautiful. You’re never going to study fish again, because ‘marine biologist’ is no job for a sweet lady like you. No job is. Just find a husband and make all the babies you can. It’s what you’re made for. When you go home, you should thank your parents for teaching you this. Then, maybe one day you’ll be an actual human and not a…’
Avery was full-blown sobbing now, each heave shaking the walls of his aching bladder and causing him to void even more strongly into his clothes. He began to speak out loud, not even realizing he’d done so. “You’re not a person. You don’t deserve to call yourself a person. You’re an inhuman, disgusting pile of shit that’s lucky it hasn’t been beaten to death yet like it deserves. You’re… You’re a sick, pervert, getting off on the idea of tricking people into thinking you’re something you can never be. You’re just a brainwashed, confused little girl in need of fixing!” He had no idea he was shouting until spit flew from his mouth. He had no idea how much he’d peed until he sat up and felt his underpants squishing below him. In spite of how soaked he already was, he still felt close to exploding if he didn’t get to the toilet soon.
He started to slap himself in the face, hard. Over and over, screaming vicious things at himself, repeating every horrid thing anyone had ever said about him, until he was laying back down on the ground, his face even more bruised than before and his thighs clammy and sticky from all his leaking. There was a big puddle on the ground below him, he’d utterly drenched the floor.
His bladder was still so full, though. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…” Avery whimpered into the silence. “I want to… I don’t want to be alive.” He shouldn’t have been alive, he didn’t think. That was what everyone always said. He didn’t deserve a life.
He gave up then, he just didn’t care about anything anymore. Who cared if the ‘therapists’ made fun of him when they found him sobbing and soaked in piss? Who cared if he had to sit in that piss for the next several days? All of that was what he deserved. He deserved humiliation and suffering. He was unworthy of ever being happy.
Avery let go, his bladder immediately splitting apart and releasing a major gush that added to the dampness coating Avery’s body and the lake forming on the ground. He peed hard and fast, but felt no relief. He was getting so wet that his legs squished with every tiny movement, and the entirety of the floor was now covered in pee. The water-level in the room started to rise and rise, until the pee was nearly up to Avery’s nose. Still, he wasn’t done. And still, he felt no relief. If anything, his urge was just getting worse by the second. ‘Make it stop!’ his brain screamed. ‘Make it all just stop!’
Avery woke up.
He blinked several times.
He was not in the isolation room. He was not wearing a dress. He was not violently wetting himself.
He was in his bedroom at Uncle Brad’s place, right where he belonged. He was wearing his own pajamas, the ones he LIKED. He was… Holding what felt like at least fifty gallons of boiling hot piss.
His arms jerked with the urge to grip himself, but he realized a moment later that he already WAS. His hands had become plugs at some point during his nightmare… ‘Nightmare… That’s…’ That was unusual, typically when he dreamed about conversion therapy, he was always fully AWARE that he was stuck in a nightmare, that he shouldn’t be there anymore, that the events shouldn’t have been repeating. But, this time he hadn’t had that awareness, he’d been utterly convinced he was trapped again, with no memory of his rescue and new life.
Did that mean the dreams— and whatever it was in his head that was causing them— were getting even worse?
His bladder pulsed and he felt heat bloom against his hands. Avery could try to figure out what was going on in his brain later, that was too hard to deal with right now. However, he KNEW exactly what was going on in his bladder, and that THAT issue had a simple remedy. He sat up further, and the waistband of his pajama pants started to CRUSH into his bladder. “Ohhh—!” he yelped, probably too loudly for the middle of the night. He hadn’t been able to help it! It had surprised him too much!
He turned to the side of his bed, feeling his pee slosh harshly against his opening. He lowered a foot to the floor, then the other one, and—
HSSSS!
The second he started to actually stand, he was peeing. Hurriedly, he collapsed back onto his bed, tucked his feet underneath himself and rocked and rocked and rocked to make himself stop. He did manage to cease the flow, but now he had a bigger issue.
He finally woke up from a nightmare in time to avoid wetting his sheets, but now he was going to pee them anyway because he was so full he couldn’t stand! That was so unfair!
All of it was unfair! He shouldn’t be having nightmares that made him pee himself! He shouldn’t have so many bad, scary feelings all the time! He shouldn’t have been sent to that place! He’d done nothing to deserve it! Memories from his dream, ones unrelated to the desperate need to empty his bladder, flooded back to him.
Most of what had happened in the dream had been real. He had freaked out when brought to the shock chair and been put in isolation as punishment. He had gotten very desperate to pee while in there. He had broken down and begun to scream at himself and smack his face. He had ultimately had an accident before he was given a toilet break. The only part that HADN’T actually happened was that, in real life, he hadn’t pissed so much that he’d created a literal flood.
No, in real life, he’d only peed out enough to make a big puddle below himself, then one of the ‘therapists’ had found him like that, called him disgusting before slamming the door shut once more. Avery, whom had needed to go pee AGAIN by then, filled with disappointment when he realized that, by having an accident, he’d forfeited his right to a toilet break, and likely to food as well. He wet himself twice more before he finally ‘earned’ a break to use the toilet and, as ever, he was made to sit in those wet clothes for an entire week until he was released from isolation.
The memory of that horrid week— Of those horrid MONTHS he’d been imprisoned for no decent reason— mixed with the pain in his bladder and the hopelessness he felt since he couldn’t even stand and walk to the toilet. Before he knew it, he was crying just as he’d done in his dream. Much like his dreams, his sobs shook the walls of his annoyed bladder and made him start to lose little droplets into his pants. ‘Just let it all go,’ he told himself. ‘Get it over with. You can’t make it.’
It just wasn’t that easy to urinate in one’s clothes on purpose, even if they were as desperate as Avery was. Years and years of conditioning had made his body dead-set on not letting itself pee if his clothes were in the way of the stream.
Avery didn’t realize how loudly he was crying until his bedroom door cracked open. “Avery…?” Uncle Brad whispered, coming to his side. “Did you have another bad dream?”
Avery whimpered as he nodded, “I—I didn’t mean to w—wake you up…”
Brad rubbed a hand against Avery’s shoulder, “It’s okay… You…You were hurt a lot, Avery. You’ve earned the right to cry…” He sat down on Avery’s bed, unknowingly jostling his nephew’s overflowing bladder in the process.
“Ooohhh…” Avery groaned, tensing his thighs and tightening his grip. “I—“
“What was the dream about? Would it feel better if you talked about it?”
“It… It was about the isolation room,” Avery said, squeezing his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure if talking about it would make him feel all that better THIS time. The longer Brad stayed in here, the more likely it was he’d bear witness to Avery drenching himself when his bladder finally burst. “This one time where I… I went crazy. I started hitting myself, and screaming at myself, because… I don’t know, I guess just hearing… Hearing people say it to me all the time, it all got stuck inside my head.”
Brad nodded. He knew Avery had a history of self-harm. He’d caught Avery hurting himself a few times, it had been a horrifying thing to see. There was a reason Brad kept the razors in a lockbox now. When Brad quit smoking, it had been to get all of the lighters out of the apartment.“None of those things they said about you were true. You are not disgusting.”
Avery winced, shifting in his place. Would Uncle Brad say the same thing when he peed everywhere in a few minutes?
“You are not sick,” Uncle Brad added. “The people who did those things to you, they were the sick ones. You’re a kind young man. Even after everything you’ve been through, you’re nothing but nice to everyone. You—… Hey, don’t be so tense, it’s over. You’re safe now, I’m never going to let anybody hurt you ever again, I promise.” Brad stroked Avery’s back, feeling the heavy tension there. “Relax, or at least try to… It’s—“
“I c—can’t,” Avery stammered. “If I relax, I’ll… Um… Anoth—Another part of the dream— When I was in isolation, I wasn’t allowed toilet breaks very much and I always had to go bad. Sometimes I’d have accidents and they’d make me lay in it, and—”
“It’s… Okay if you got the sheets wet,” Brad assured. “I’ll get you some new pants, it’s—“
“N—No, I didn’t wet the bed this time,” Avery interrupted, nearly doubling over on himself. That was a bad idea, however, as now his body weight was basically folding his bladder in half. Instead, he laid backwards and stared at the ceiling, desperate to give it more space, however there didn’t seem to be any space LEFT in Avery’s body, his pee had to come out now! “I… I just…. Can’t hold it…”
“Oh,” Brad said. “You mean you have to go NOW. Well, we can talk more in a minu—“
Avery shook his head frantically, “I can’t stand up. I have to… I have to go SO bad that I start peeing if I try to get up. I can’t make it.”
“Okay…” Uncle Brad told him. “It’s alright, I’ll… Hold on.” He stood and left the room. Avery initially thought he was just giving him some privacy so he could have his inevitable accident, but he came back a minute later, carrying an empty bottle that used to contain a sports drink. “Got this back out of the trash,” he said. “Will it wor—“
“Yes,” Avery said eagerly. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything as badly as he wanted that bottle. He’d fallen asleep with his prosthetic on, so he’d have no issue using it, either.
Uncle Brad sat beside him again and handed him the bottle. Avery unscrewed the cap, and then… There were problems. The STP worked best if he was actually standing, otherwise the cup was tilted wrong and he’d have a spill. “I… I have to get up…” he mumbled, trying to figure out the right way to do this that would result in the smallest amount of pee coming out before he was ready. He came up with it pretty fast and was a little proud of himself for thinking so quickly when his bladder was searing. “T—Turn around,” he said.
Brad did, and Avery unbuttoned his pajama pants and pulled his dick out, then put the opening of the bottle in place below it. He knew he was going to burst the second he was on his feet, but this way it would all be flowing where he wanted it to go. He shut his eyes as he got ready to stand, seeing his dick aimed into a bottle was a bit of a mindscrew— His eyes were telling him it was safe to pee, but inside he knew that everything wasn’t lined up right just yet. He got up as fast as he dared, one hand pushing the cup of his STP firmly against himself. He felt himself peeing before he was all the way stood, and felt a little sliding out the back of the cup and warming his pants.
Finally, he had everything right where he needed it, and he didn’t have to TELL himself to start pissing, because he was already gushing like crazy. Urine hissed and spattered into the plastic bottle, and Avery sighed gently, “Haaahhhh… That’s beautiful…” he mumbled to himself. He felt the bottle growing warm and heavy as he pumped it full of his piss, and for a wonderful moment he was lost in his relief.
But, the bottle started to get REALLY heavy, and then Brad was saying, “H—Hold on, too much!”
It took Avery a minute to register all of that, but when he felt pee coating his hands as it overflowed from the bottle, he cringed, squeezed his thighs, and cut off his flow. His bladder pounded and swelled, utterly enraged at having its relief taken away early.
Frantically, Avery set the bottle down on his nightstand, accidentally spilling some onto the surface, before he took off from his room. He’d let a lot of the excess pressure out— Enough that he could move without pissing— But, he didn’t feel like he had much time before his interrupted stream resumed with or without his consent. He dashed to the toilet— and thank God the lid and seat were both up already! He aimed for the bowl, instantly unleashing the remainder of his piss. “Ahhhhhhh….”
Avery moaned so loudly now that Brad could hear him all the way back in his room. Brad’s stomach twisted. According to the label, the bottle Avery had just OVERFLOWED held twenty ounces. Avery had pissed out over twenty ounces of liquid and he STILL hadn’t been finished!?
Brad struggled to remember his high school biology class. How much was a bladder SUPPOSED to hold? He thought it was probably slightly UNDER twenty ounces, right? Avery managing to fill that bottle beyond its capacity and have even more pee left to expel couldn’t have been healthy at all…
‘He should have woken up to pee before now,’ Brad thought. ‘Is he just a heavy sleeper, or was his nightmare that strong, or what?’
Brad had a feeling he knew why Avery’s bladder was larger than average, and why he held in so much so often. He’d thought for the longest time that Avery held it JUST because public toilets scared him, or JUST because he was embarrassed to say he had to go. But, something Avery had said tonight got to Brad, the thing about not being let out of isolation to pee and then having to sit in the mess when he didn’t make it.
Avery’s bladder had been brutally and harshly TRAINED to hold way more fluid than a person ever SHOULD. His bladder had obviously gotten strong because of that, but Brad was concerned he was going to hurt himself if he didn’t start emptying it more often. His full bladder really SHOULD have woken him up sooner tonight, the fact that it didn’t wasn’t a good sign.
Avery returned to his room about half a minute after he’d left. He collapsed limply on his bed, looking very loose compared to his earlier rigidity. “Ahhh…” he breathed out again. “Man, did I need THAT…”
Brad held Avery’s hand, “Okay now?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “Thank you for the bottle, definitely would have peed all over the place without it.”
“Avery, did you remember to go before bed?”
“Yes,” Avery said. “I can’t sleep if I don’t pee first. Especially if I drink a lot at dinner.”
Brad thought about that. They’d eaten a pretty salty dinner, Avery had had a ton of water. So, that would explain why he’d gotten so full… “I want you to try to remember to go a little more often, okay?”
“I go when I have to,” Avery shrugged.
“You hold it an awful lot, too,” Brad reminded. “Almost every time I see you come home from somewhere, you are squirming and rushing to the toilet.”
“Well, at school, that’s because of Liam—“
“Your principal told me that you are free to use his restroom whenever you need to go,” Brad said. “Have you been doing that?”
“No,” Avery admitted. “Usually, I just— I hold it at school in case—“
“You have somewhere safe to pee, Avery. You don’t have to hold it like that. It’s really not good for you.”
“I… I don’t wanna bother the principal every time I need to pee.”
Brad sighed. He understood— he REALLY did. He understood why Avery felt so much like a burden on everyone. His self-esteem had been crushed to bits in the conversion therapy center, he felt somehow ‘unworthy’ of everybody around him. Understanding it didn’t make it hurt any less to see Avery constantly put himself down and inconvenience himself because he thought it was what everyone wanted. If anything, knowing WHY Avery thought so lowly of himself only made it more painful to witness. “Avery, you aren’t bothering him. I promise. He’s called me several times, asking me to REMIND you because HE sees you fidgeting around in the halls all the time.”
Avery blushed. He hadn’t realized how obvious his daily pee-dances must have been to everybody…
“I want you to TRY to pee at least once every three hours, alright? I think the isolation room may have damaged your bladder a little bit, you should have woken up to go before it was practically coming out of you.”
Avery blushed harder. But, he nodded. Truthfully, he couldn’t understand why his urge hadn’t gotten him up faster than that. Maybe the painfully long holds in the isolation room, not to mention how often he forced himself to hold it now, HAD all effected his body. He teared up again, he hadn’t ever considered that the full bladders he’d been made to endure at that awful place had damaged anything, but Uncle Brad did…
His uncle really cared about him…
“Um…” Avery fidgeted. “I…. Thank you for taking care of me, and being so nice… I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Uncle Brad said. “I’ll always be here, I’m going to be the parent you deserve, I promise.” |
Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "Christmas Party".
***
It was the last day of school before Winter break and so, instead of classes, they would be having a party. Everyone was pretty much free to roam around wherever they wanted. However, after a few too many cups of punch, there was really only one room Avery wanted to visit.
Ever since the incident with Liam on that field trip, Avery had been so wary of bumping into him, particularly in a setting where he’d already be vulnerable, that he’d ceased using the school restrooms altogether. He always just BARELY managed to make it to the end of the day when he kept his fluid intake to a minimum and, even then, sometimes he’d have to shamefully ask Lydia to wait for him while he ducked into a store on their way to the subway, unable to hold it all the way back to his apartment.
Yes, he had permission to use the restroom in the principal’s office, but he just HATED how that felt. He hated how it set him apart from everyone else that could just use the normal bathrooms, and didn’t need to bug the principal and anyone else who may be in the office just because he needed to go. After Uncle Brad had instructed him to try to pee more often, Avery had made something of an effort at getting over his anxiety. Three times now, he’d been filled close to his limit and twitchily made his way towards the office. Every time, he’d just frozen outside the door, hopping from foot to foot, and straining his ears to make sure Principal Nelson wasn’t busy with anything.
Even when Avery heard absolutely nothing, he assumed Nelson simply MUST have been reading over something important, and so shouldn’t be interrupted by a student desperate for a pee. So, he’d just hobble away from the door and resign himself to holding it in until the final bell rang.
Today, he’d honestly thought he’d be fine having some punch, since school was going to end earlier than usual. But as he sat at his desk beside Lydia, twisting and coiling his legs, with three more hours left to wait, Avery was cursing himself for taking the risk. His bladder was humming with the urge for relief. He bounced his knees, and tried his best to quell the need. After months of never using the school toilets, Avery felt like he’d developed a few useful tricks for that.
For example, when he was sitting in class and trying to nurse the pain in his bloated bladder, it was never helpful to look at the clock and think ‘Oh no, there’s at least four more hours until I can pee!’ Instead, he’d try to break it down a different way. ‘I only have to sit through two more classes today.’ Since two was a smaller number than four, and since going to class was an activity to focus on, he was able to make it feel more manageable.
He couldn’t really do that today. Since it was a party and there weren’t any tasks to accomplish, all he could focus on was the fact he had a minimum of three hours to get through before he could even hope to see a toilet and relax his stinging sphincters.
As Lydia talked to Avery, she could tell he needed to go. Even with her difficulties understanding body language, she’d seen Avery overflowing enough times now that she recognized the signs. Plus, she’d been seeing him desperate a LOT lately. Ever since that field trip, every school day ended with Avery half-hunched over and struggling to even walk out of the building. Sometimes, he went straight to the subway station with her, other times he’d freeze on the sidewalk and stammer something out about needing a minute to ‘buy something’ at a particular store.
He seemed to still think she believed his excuse, even though whenever he came back OUT of the store, he never had anything with him apart from a much more relaxed posture and a pink flush to his face.
Lydia understood him being scared of the possibility of another run-in with Liam. Liam had followed him through the hallways between classes a few times when Lydia wasn’t there to threaten him into backing off. Liam had shot him some unsettling looks while IN class, and made a few rude comments to him in the cafeteria. But, all those times, there had been a lot of other people around so Liam hadn’t actually DONE anything that bad. In the restroom, Avery could easily find himself totally alone with Liam, and Liam would take full advantage of that.
What Lydia DIDN’T understand was why Avery never went to the principal’s office. He had permission to pee there, and maybe TELLING Nelson that Liam was basically threatening him would do some good. Avery always said he just “didn’t want to bother” the principal, which didn’t make much sense to Lydia. If it bothered Nelson, he wouldn’t have told Avery to do it…
Avery brought one leg up over the opposite knee and rocked in his seat. His eyes darted to the clock again, the second hand seeming to move in slow-motion. He swore it kept bouncing backwards. He felt the humming in his bladder turn into more of a pinching. He wished there could be something else to focus on…
Their homeroom teacher had brought in a bunch of sugar cookies, yet just the thought of putting ANYTHING into his body made Avery feel more bloated. He knew another classroom was playing a bunch of movies, maybe that would distract him for a bit… He tried to think if any famous Christmas films had any scenes that showed lots of water, which just made him picture rain and waterfalls, which just made him bounce his knee even faster.
Again, he looked at the clock. Still nearly three hours left…
He wasn’t gonna make it.
But, maybe that was okay today? It— It was the last day of school, so Nelson shouldn’t be THAT busy, right? Just this one time, Avery could let himself ask… He’d basically tuned Lydia out for the last several minutes. It hadn’t been on purpose, his bladder had just had a much louder voice. He attempted to pay attention again, hoping that Lydia hadn’t managed to catch on to his problem. Lydia was talking about the Christmas presents she’d gotten for her younger sister, so that told him she must NOT have noticed it. Good.
When she paused for a second, Avery said “I—I’m sure she’ll really like the bracelets,” he gripped the edge of his desk, bracing himself for the inevitable pain of standing back up. “Er… I— Oh, I gotta make sure that I haven’t left anything important in my locker!” He tensed up his thighs, muscles twitching from the strain. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Finally, Avery forced himself up onto his feet. The difference in pressure was instantaneous, pain moving from his groin to spread all throughout his abdomen, his legs wobbled, and he gripped the bottom of his shirt with both of hands to keep from holding his crotch instead. He stared down at the floor, focused hard on each step. Left foot, right foot— His pee sloshed back and forth, like waves crashing on a shore. Halfway to the exit, a violent surge of need rippled through his middle and he felt heat flow against his opening before squirting free. Immediately he snapped his legs together and gave a few sharp, deliberate hops in place. His face and neck both burned, not daring to turn around and see if Lydia had noticed, see if she’d worked it out…
Finally able to move again, Avery hobbled the last several feet to the door and wrenched it open, scrambling from the room.
Lydia watched as the door clicked shut behind him. She HOPED he wasn’t actually going to his locker…
***
Avery’s shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor of the hallway. Ever since that first shameful leak on his way out of the classroom, he’d felt a few more fighting hard to burst out from the confines of his bladder. The halls were fairly empty, the few people wandering around still enough of a deterrent to keep Avery from grabbing at himself. Even so, he knew his trouble was probably obvious. He kept needing to stop, cross his legs, jiggle up and down… When he walked, he was doubled over, and moving at a snail’s pace on shaky feet…
It was a miracle Lydia hadn’t noticed it!
He wished the principal’s office could be CLOSER to his homeroom. The walk didn’t feel that far normally, but today it felt like he was trying to hike all the way up to Canada… The worst part was how he passed by a men’s restroom on his way there. Dear God, his bladder shuddered at the sight of the sign for it, his imagination shoving images of vacant urinals and wide-open stall doors in his face.
What were the odds Liam was even IN there to bother him? Or would come in before he’d finished going? It should be okay, right? He wanted it to be okay…
It didn’t feel okay.
He made himself keep walking.
He got to the principal’s office and tried to turn the doorknob, but it didn’t move.
It was locked.
“Ohhhh,” Avery muttered. “Come on, not now…” How could he have such rotten luck!? The one time he finally chose to come down here for a piss, he wasn’t able to do it! He bounced in front of the door for several seconds, before hobbling further down the hallway to the front desk of the school. Timidly, he glanced passed it, but he didn’t spot another restroom.
A woman was at the desk, though, and before she could finish greeting him, he was blurting out “Wh—Where’s Principal Nelson?”
The woman looked down for a second, and Avery was grateful the desk blocked her view of his frantically flailing feet. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Nnnh, do you know when he’ll be back in his office?” Avery asked. “I— I need to ask him something!”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll let him know whenever I see him… Are you oka—“
“I just— I have to use the bathroom,” Avery said, crossing his legs back around one another. “Real bad. And he said I could use the toilet in his office, and—“
“I’ll tell him next time I see him,” the woman said.
Avery knew that was all she could really DO for him, but it didn’t help him at all. He didn’t have TIME to wait, he needed to go NOW. Still, he thanked her, and slinked away.
As he careened through the hall on his wobbly legs, Avery’s mind was flooded with panic. He was going to have an accident at this rate! When he passed the men’s restroom he, again, tried to convince himself to enter it. He managed to put a hand on the door, but then his chest filled with fear and he just continued on his way.
He got back to his classroom, went back to his desk where Lydia was waiting, but couldn’t get himself to sit down. He was holding it just fine while standing up! He didn’t want to tempt fate by changing position! His fingers curled around the edge of his desk as he leaned himself up against it, stomping his feet against the floor. “Lydia, wha—what were we talking about before? I— I’m back now, I… Did whatever I said I was going to do!”
“You said you were getting stuff from your locker,” Lydia stated.
“Y—Yeah! I did that!” Avery’s hips shimmied, and he started to almost thrust himself against his desk. “How long was I gone, not too long?” He shifted his gaze to the clock. He’d been gone for less than ten minutes. He still had very, VERY close to three hours left… Fuck, he was gonna piss his pants… “Yeah, not that long, sorry to—“
“Avery,” Lydia interrupted. “Were you not able to use the restroom?”
“Wha—What?” Avery asked, twisting around and pressing a hand to his groin. “I’m—“
“—About to explode,” Lydia finished for him. “You’re… I haven’t even seen Pauline do a potty dance like that before…”
Avery’s face scorched red at being compared to Lydia’s much younger sister. He groaned. “Yeah, okay, Nelson wasn’t in his office, and the door was locked. So, no. I couldn’t pee. But, that’s fine. I’ll hold it!”
“You can’t…”
“Don’t have a choice,” Avery said. “I— Fffffff!” He clenched his teeth and exhaled sharply, a long jet of pee shot out into his boxers. He jumped back from his desk slightly, shoved both hands between his legs and doubled over.
“You’re nervous because of Liam, right?” Lydia asked.
Avery didn’t look up at her, couldn’t unfold his body without peeing. “Y—Yesss…”
“Well, he pretty much leaves you alone when I’m with you, right?” Lydia said. “So, I’ll just… I’ll take you to pee.”
Avery DID look up then. Having someone near him, guaranteeing that he wouldn’t have to be alone in a room with Liam, THAT would fix everything. But… “Y—You can’t go in the men’s room with me, you’ll get in trou— Ahhh, can’t hold it…” he whimpered, voice squeaking painfully.
“… I’ll pretend I didn’t read the sign, or… Something,” Lydia said. It wasn’t a good excuse, since she’d gone to this school for years, so she hoped Avery was too far gone to think about it too much.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Avery said. “That will work! Okay, hurry!” He rushed for the door.
Lydia followed after him. It was sorta funny how he’d been totally reluctant to tell her he needed to go at all, and now he was begging her for assistance with it… It seemed like he didn’t have that much trouble talking about his needs once someone else was already aware. Now, if only there was a way to make that FIRST admission a little easier for him.
They reached the nearest restroom quickly, since Avery was RUNNING there. Every hard step on the ground made him dribble, but he’d weighed his options; If he ran, he’d leak a lot, but he’d get there in time. If he walked slowly, he might have fewer leaks, but his bladder would burst before he got to the restroom.
Lydia caught up to him and, against all previous experiences, opened the door that was designated as being only for guys. Avery shoved his way into the room and Lydia let the door fall shut behind them.
Admittedly, she was kind of curious about how the inside of a men’s room looked. She started to glance around. Immediately, it struck her as a little unfair. In the girls’ restroom across the hall, she knew there were five stalls. And she knew that, sometimes, WAITING for one of those five stalls could get DEEPLY uncomfortable… Particularly when the girls occupying them were letting out loud, hissing streams that just got inside Lydia’s head and made her start to…
Well, in here, there were ALSO five stalls. But, in addition, lined up against a wall that was bare in the women’s room, were five urinals. Twice as many places to relieve a full bladder. She’d always THOUGHT the only reason women’s rooms had longer lines was because of the need to pull pants down and sit, it had never crossed her mind that there were an unequal number of places to actually GO…
Lydia realized then that she didn’t think she’d ever actually SEEN a urinal before. She couldn’t recall ever going into a men’s room, even by accident after not reading the signs properly. Looking at them now, seeing that these reached all the way down to the floor, she was a bit confused. Did guys really just pee right between their shoes? Didn’t that get them wet? Did urinals usually go that low? No, she didn’t think that was the case, she’d seen Avery run off to pee a few times, then return, still full, to make an embarrassed confession that the urinal had been too high for him to reach. So then Avery probably LIKED the ‘piss-between-your-shoes’ urinals?
She’d been expecting him to bolt for one and… Pee however one was supposed to pee at a urinal, but he didn’t. She turned and saw him still just standing there, shaking, with his hands at his crotch. She initially suspected he was now feeling too shy to relieve himself with her in the room, but considering he’d already DONE that a few times… “What, can you not move?”
Avery shook his head shamefully. He didn’t dare lift one foot, even that felt like it would be enough to break open his dam.
“Would it help if you leaned against me, or something?”
Avery kept shuddering. That would be so humiliating, but a little bit of support would be useful… And still LESS embarrassing than soaking his pants inside of a restroom would be.
Lydia took his arm and slowly helped him hobble a few steps. She wasn’t actually sure if he wanted a stall or a urinal and, by the time she’d gotten him up to one of the urinals, she’d figured out that he probably would have preferred more privacy judging by the red coloration scorching across his face. Oh well, he was AT a toilet now, not like he’d put up a fuss about it at this point…
And, maybe Lydia WAS a little curious… Not so much about Avery peeing. She’d seen that before. She’d NEVER seen anyone use a urinal before, though. For whatever reason, that did pique her fascination a little. Probably from her earlier questions about how the shoes stayed dry. Or the fact that the urinals were just sort of… There, out in the open. No doors to lock. Guys really did just GO in plain view of whoever else was in the restroom, huh?
Avery shuffled, leaning from side to side and stomping his feet against the tiles, his hips shifting. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was always the worst part of being desperate… That moment where he was at last at the toilet, and he had to just look at it as he grappled with the final obstacle, made trickier by the shaking of his hands, and the urge to press them back against his crotch.
Lydia heard Avery’s zipper moving, then some very urgent ruffling of his clothes, punctuated by a little, whining whimper in the back of his throat. Then, she watched his feet bolt apart from one another, and a stream appeared in-between them, pouring hard against the porcelain… As the beginning of Avery’s relief spattered the urinal, a panicked grunt turned itself into an almost startled moan. “Ah!— Oh— Ohhhhh, holy shit that’s…that’s it…”
Avery’s piss had started firing out before he’d been totally ready, he had to scramble to get the cup of the prosthetic underneath him correctly, and he knew he’d sloshed some into his boxers— But, just a LITTLE bit, and now it was all flowing down his shaft properly, all landing into the urinal where it belonged, and he could FINALLY just let himself relax. Everything went away the second it hit him that he was at last free to give in and grant his body what it wanted. He didn’t care that he’d spilled a bit in those first few seconds, and he didn’t care that Lydia was here with him as he did this. “Barely fucking made it… Ahhhh…”
Lydia felt very awkward now, and it wasn’t actually because she was standing beside Avery as he took care of such a personal need. It was really just because of the running commentary he was giving as he urinated… Occasionally just… Babbling to himself, barely coherent nonsense about how good he felt…
She’d heard him sorta mumbling under his breath while peeing before, making silly comments, but this time he was MOANING them, and she just… She hadn’t known people got so VERBAL when emptying their bladders. Particularly when they were usually super SHY like Avery was… She seriously wondered if he was even AWARE of what was coming out of his mouth now. This was a guy that was so quiet he’d have a hard time telling someone to get out of a burning building, yet now he was groaning and cursing about how amazing it felt to urinate.
And if he was doing it in front of HER, that meant he DEFINITELY had done it in front of other people…
Right, no way did he notice what he was doing.
Hopefully nobody would ever say anything to him about it, otherwise he might be so embarrassed that he never relieved himself in public again and eventually made himself actually explode.
“Haaaahhhh….” Avery gave one last low moan as the last of his pee hit the urinal. He kept standing there though, certain that another flood would start to blast out any second now. Once he was certain he really WAS emptied, he zipped his pants and tottered backwards. “Fuuuhhh…” He was lightheaded now, he felt so empty…
It was only when he’d stepped away from the urinal that he remembered Lydia was here. “S—Sorry…” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t wanna watch that…”
“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “You’re alright now, aren’t you?”
“Y—Yeah,” Avery said, going to the sinks. “I’m a lot better now. Thank you.”
When they exited the room, Avery realized that Liam HADN’T ever come in, so he’d really had nothing to even worry about.
Even so, he never would have gone in there without someone there. Just in case. |
A short experience from my youths.
A friend and i we had the same habit about girls. We did like it if girls were desperate to pee, if they needed to wee really bad, but did not go, or could not go, or was not allowed to go.
We did search for opportunities, where we could make girls hold and wait.
One different between us was, that i did and i still like very slim girls and he like them more curvy.
My friends father had a motorboat on a lake, not far from our down.
He had the idea to make a boat trip with two girls from our school.
First we went with my father’s car to the lake and then with his father’s boat to a little island.
We have been absolutely alone on this little island, there have been no trees and no bushes.
My friend did know that island and he told me that there would be no hide where the girls could wee.
They had two opportunities, one to wee in view of us, or they had to hold it the entire day. Both imaginations were exciting for us.
It was late spring, the sun was warm, but the water was to cold for to go in, for to wee.
We had enough to eat and much to drink on the boat and we had two planked’s, to lie on and to take a sunbath.
The girls did wear tiny bikini’s and they have been both sexy at their way.
“My “ girl, they were both not our girlfriends to that time, my girl was sporty and very slim. Her breast’s were small and firm, her thighs were slim and her belly was flat with pregnant hipbone’s.
The second girl was round with large breasts, with thighs not really thick, but not slim, her ass was roundly and absolutely not small, but her belly was flat too.
She was not a cubby girl, she was a curvy girl.
We had both exactly the kind of girl that we liked.
We did lie on the blanket, caressed our girls, kissed them and had our hands there were boys like to have them on a girls body.
It was afternoon, we did drink a lot since morning, my friend pissed twice, since we were on the island, i and the girls not even once.
I was needing to go, but I like it need to go but don’t go, i like the feeling of a full bladder and a strong urge, especially when i am with a girl who has her bladder full and would need to wee pretty bad too.
The girls must have a full bladder in their bellies, after drinking so much and don’t wee for so long.
I have always my special ways to test the fullness of a girls bladder and the intensity of her urge.
My girl did lie on her back, with her face to the sun, i did lie on my side and putted my thigh on her belly, in a way that my knee was between her navel and her public bone, exactly there where her bladder was and then i pressed my knee in her belly.
She moaned, but did not say something, i could feel how she tensed her muscles to hold her wee in.
I wanted more, i did lie myself half on her slim body, so that my hipbone pressed with my full weight on her bladder.
”Be careful, don’t press so hard on my belly, i am needing to wee so bad, i pee my panties if you push my bladder.” she whispered in my ear, so silently that the other’s could not hear it.
”I can feel that you like that.” she said and pressed her belly against my hard dick.
“ Don’t you need to go, you have not been all day too?” she wanted to know.
I told her that i would need to go, but that i am good in holding and that i can wait really long if i want it.
”Me the same !” she answered and smiled.
What a naughty, dirty girl, i thought to myself and was getting the desire to torture her bladder, to fill it up to and over its limit.
Sometimes later my friends girl said that we have to leave, because she is needing a loo.
My friend told her that she could squad here anywhere.
She would not do that she answered. It is not late now, he said, she should hold it for one or two hours longer, she is a big girl, he is sure that she would be able to do that.
”What do you think what i am doing, i need to go since before noon!” she answered a little bit angry.
”You are one of the boys who think that girls don’t need to wee, or that girls have to be able to hold it until they get a chance to go, no matter how bad they would need it.”
Just if we hold it sometimes for hours on end, doesn’t mean that we would not need to go, we sometimes don’t have a good opportunity so that we are forced to hold it.”she said.
I was surprised that he said “One more hour!?” and i was surprised that she agreed and said “okay, one hour, but no more!”
That was so exciting for me to know that she was needing to wee since hours, that she had to go really urgently and it was arousing to know that my girls bladder in her slim abdomen, was overfilled and stretched too.
I pressed both hands of my girl on the ground and did lie my body with all the weight on her thin body. My hard dick was between our bellies and pressed hard on our bladders.
That was torture pure, but i did know that she did like to get tortured this way.
She moaned and was shivering under my body, from needing to wee so bad. So more she was shivering, the harder i pressed.
I was so horny that i wanted to fuck her at the moment and i think that she wanted to get fucked too, but we could not do that with our friends beside.
Not even one hour later, the curvy girl had her solid thighs pressed hard together and said “I can’t anymore, all my belly hurts from needing to pee so bad. Look at my lower abdomen, how swollen it is!
That can not be healthy to hold it back for so long until it gets painful.”
I putted my hand on the belly of my girl, exactly there where her bladder was visible bulging out.
“Oh, your belly is swollen too, would my girl need to wee too?” i said and pressed hard in her belly.
”Sadist!!” she said, but did let me do it, she did let me massage her bladder.
Oh what a little slut, i thought to myself, close to cum in my swimming trunks.
In the boat, on the way back, the curvy had both hands pressed in her crotch and her thighs crossed over her hands.
I think she had one of her fingers pressed on her pee hole, because if she changed her thighs, to cross them to the other side, i could see how the fabric of her bikini panty was pushed deep in her girl slit.
She was desperate, she was frantic and she was angry.
”That was my first and my last boat trip! I never go again somewhere where i can’t piss if i need to.” she said.
She did not wee since 8 hours, not really a long time, for a healthy, young girl, but she did drink a lot all day long and it seams, that she was not a really good “holder “!
My girl and me, we had the same situation, we did not pee since more than 8 hours and we did drink a lot during the day, but we did like it!
For me is was a absolutely exciting situation and it was arousing too, to see the bellies from the girls swollen and full with their overfilled bladders.
As soon as we arrived, the curvy girl did get on the bank and went, with both hands between her thighs, to the nearest bush.
Wie could hear her pissing sound, it was loud and long!
“That was really urgently and necessary, or?” said my friend.
”That was more than urgently, i thought my bladder will burst, so bad was that.” she answered, still angry.
”What’s about you?” I asked my girl and smiled.
”I am holding it!” she replied and smiled back “and you?” she wanted to know.
”Me too.” I answered. It was like a competition between us.
On the way home, we stopped at a Mc Donald’s. As we walked in, she whispered in my ear “if you don’t go, i don’t go too!”
Our both bladders were expand to the size of a soccer ball, we needed to go really, really bad, but we did not.
We did eat a burger and did drink a Coke and went back to my car, with our bladders full to explode.
The curvy and my friend went again before we did leave. I think that the girl did not even notice, that we did not pee the entire day, my friend did know what kind of game we played.
I did bring both to their home, first the girl, then my friend.
“Keep dry and make her hold ” whispered my friend to me, as he did take his bags from behind.
We were now alone in the car and i said “ we did take a great risk, what would happen if there is a accident and we have to stay in the car for hours , how much longer could you endure it?” i asked.
”My bladder and i, we could endure more, if we had to. One, two or three hours would not be a problem, she replied and caressed her swollen bladder with her hand.
I could not resist and pressed hard on her overfilled bladder, she should get punished for her arrogance, she should show me what she can endure.
”That is not really fair.” she said and crossed her slim legs as hard as she could.
“Maybe not fair, but really, really good!’ I said.
I have been horny nearly the entire day, i wanted sex with her, sex with our bladders full like that, no wee before for the thin girl.
I did take her home, we went to my room, i stripped her and did lie her in my bed. It was amazing how swollen her thin belly was, her bladder was bulging from hipbone to hipbone and up to her navel.
I was our first sex together, but not our last. It was absolutely great.
I have more experience with her, where she was full to burst.
She did absolutely know to turn me on.
Sometimes she said “I need to wee really bad, should i go or should i hold it?” What a question!!?
She asked me that before we went to the cinema, or before a car ride and did always hold it for hours more.
Once at afternoon she told me that she would need to wee really, really bad, because she has not been at the loo this morning, she did not wee since yesterday evening.
She did know that she could make me crazy with that.
She did like to torture her bladder, to tease me with her pee desperation.
The fuller her bladder was, the more she was needing to wee, the better was the sex with her, especially when i squeezed and pressed hard on her poor bladder. |
About one week after the boat trip i had a date with “my “ girl. We did meet early at afternoon in a coffee shop in a shopping mall.
After we had something to drink we made a walk in the mall and every time we looked at the window of a shop she was standing with her sexy, slender legs tight crossed.
She did look really hot with her super short skirt and her slim thighs nude, fare up over her knees.
I was nearly sure that she was needing to wee and to imagine that she was needing to go so bad that she had to cross her legs, was absolutely exciting for me.
Some shop’s later i asked her “ to you need a loo?”
She looked at me and said “I would need to pee, but i don’t need a loo, i don’t go, i hold it.”
”Since how long would you need to go?” I wanted to know.
”Since i did wake up in the morning. I did not wee since yesterday before i went to bed.” she answered and smiled.
”You naughty, dirty little girl, you exactly know it how to turn me on!” and smiled back.
”You are a naughty boy too.” she said and looked at my bulging trousers.
”You should get punished for making me so horny, that i nearly cum in my briefs.
I absolutely won’t let you piss today, not even if you are full to explode, no mercy with your girl bladder, you have to hold it no matter what !”i said.
“Don’t worry about me, i am a strong girl.” she replied.
We walked in the city and late at afternoon she could not hide her need anymore. When ever we had to wait at the traffic lights, she was rubbing her knees, or crossed her legs.
”Does my little girl need a wee?” I teased her. “As sure as death i need to wee after nearly 20 hours holding!” she said, but i don’t go, i told you that i am a strong girl.
”What about you, how is your bladder, when did you pee at last?” she wanted to know. “I went before breakfast and no more after that.” I answered.
We had a snack at a kiosk and something to drink and then i proposed that we go to the cinema and after that we go to my home.
She told me that she would like to go to the cinema, but she MUST go to the loo before, or we skip the cinema and go straight to my home.
No way, I told her. First cinema and then to my room and no loo before.
That world be utterly impossible for her to endure that for so long, she told me.
”You are a strong girl! Cross your legs, or make a knote in your sexy, slim legs, if it is absolutely necessary, but hold it. No further discussion about peeing!” I said dominate.
She told me that she would try it, but it would be more fair if i drink two large sodas and she just a small one before we go inside.
I was needing to pee pretty bad too, but i was ready to torture my bladder, to torture hers more, i wanted to make that girl full to explode and so i agreed.
Her belly was swollen and her bladder was visible bulging out from her thin abdomen, but she did drink her mineral.
After a half hour in the cinema, she whispered in my ear “ i don’t know what to do, i need to wee so bad, i can’t stand it any longer, i never need to pee so bad at my entire life, i must pee, i must let it out.”
”Oh no, you will not pee, you will be a good girl and you will hold it!!” I whispered back.
I pushed her mini skirt up and gripped between her wonderful thighs. “Your panties are still dry.” i said. “Yes, they are dry, but it hurts so bad, it is so painful, i need to go, i must go now.” she begged.
”Oh no, you will be brave and hold it.” i said and putted my hard on her belly.
”No, no, don’t do that! I piss myself if you press my bladder.” she said desperate.
I did not press and push on her bladder, because i did not want that she piss herself in the cinema, but i could feel that her poor bladder was really, really hard and that it was bulging out very much from her thin belly.
”You are so full down there and i love it!!” I whispered in her ear and pressed soft on her bladder.
All the extra water was in my bladder and i was needing to pee really bad too. I told her that and she said “I wish you burst as punishment for to torture me so bad.”
After the cinema, we went home by bus for just 20 minutes. She could nearly not walk from needing to wee so bad. She did not pee for more than 21 hours to that time. I did not pee since 13 hours, but had two large extra drinks and was needing to piss really bad too.
At my home she was standing with tight crossed legs until i opened the front door, we went across the bathroom on the way to my room, but i absolutely would not have let her in, she did know that and she did not even asked about it.
No wee for her and no pee for me too. As soon as i closed the door from my room, she pushed the fabric of the skirt with two hands between her naked, slim thighs and squatted down.
”Oh my little girl is needing to wee so bad. Is it really so bad?” I teased her.
”What do you think? I did not wee since 22 hours and i need to go since more than 14 hours and i am still holding it.”
“I love that!!! That is all i can think and say about it.” I answered.
She did keep squatting for one minute until she did calm down, then i stripped her clothes. Her little panties had a wet stain between her thighs and her belly was swollen from her overfilled bladder.
I was so excited, she was so hot and so sexy for me and the circumstance that she was frantic to wee , made me nearly cum , just from watching her.
Some minutes later in the bed , i did lie on my back and she on top of me. She pressed her slim body firm against my body, in a way that she pressed her bladder hard against my hipbone
She did torture her bladder this way until her whole body was trembling , during that she said “ oh my god, i need to piss so awful, so badly, i need to wee so urgently, i am afraid that my bladder will burst if i don’t go.
Then i turned her on her back and did lie with all my weight on her skinny body, bladder on bladder. She enlaced my body with her slim legs to press us hard together. That was really painful for our bladders , but we did both love it.
She did love to get her bladder tortured and i did love to torture it, but after half an hour she suddenly said “sorry i can’t anymore, i can’t endure that any longer, let me wee, let me to the loo.”
”You don’t really think that i let you wee before we have sex.” i said and started to fu....... her.
She groaned and moaned from lust and needing to wee so bad. Whenever i pressed hard on her belly i could feel how she tensed all her muscles and i could feel how she squeezed my di...... with her pus......
We did both love it and we both did know that we would have our best sex when she was full to burst and i was overfilled.
It is so hot to fuck a girl who did not wee for 24 hours or longer. |
Imagine a stadium, packed to the thousands of women vigorously going through various challenges while dealing with desperation. Imagine the thousands watching broadcasts around the world of this main attraction. That’s what Sidney thought as she twiddled around her pencil in calculus class.
Imagine a girl having to hit three pointers while also having a desire to hold her crotch in pure desperation. She imagined it, she loved it. Sidney always loved two things ever since she was 12: sports and omo. The two seemed so... different, but Sidney was an innovator, she knew if she just put her creative mind into it, she’d be able to make something out of nothing. She just needed to test it out, but who would be her guinea pig?
She knew some of her friends would be on her cross country team, but only one in her opinion would be willing to try this out while running: Sasha. Sasha had always been open to trying wetting when Sidney recommended it for stress, she had taken to liking it, but obviously not in public and in front of her friends as well. She knew the only way was to try.
She approached her friend at lunch. “Hey Sasha, could I talk to you for a bit?”
Sasha turned around and smiled, “sure.”
”So girl, I have a proposition for you,” Sidney began, “I want you to not go to the bathroom until after practice today.”
Sasha gave her a confused look, “why is that?”
“Well I wanted to try an experiment. I want you to hold your pee while you run and tell me how difficult it is and how much it affects your performance.”
Sasha sat there in thought for a second. “Okay, I’ll do it, on one condition.” She smiled at Sidney, “if you do it with me. If I go down you go down too.”
Sidney nodded, “deal.”
Part 1: The experiment:
The rest of day went by as Sidney filled up on water and made sure to skip over the bathroom on her way to practice. She found all the other girls stretching and made her way over to Sasha.
Sasha was already visibly bouncing on one leg. “So, you ready?”
The look Sidney gave her told Sasha that her friend didn’t believe in her, she took this as a subtle challenge and stopped bouncing. “Of course, I’m not backing out, but are you ready to get left in the dust today Sidney?”
Sasha and her were always back and forth runners, always hounding on each other. Their 5k times were nearly identical, with both posting sub 19 minute times, the best on the team. Both girls were in extremely good shape and on the top of their games nearing postseason time. “When am I ever not?” That’s all Sidney needed to say before they were off.
Their normal days consist of a 5 mile long run (or 8k for everyone who isn’t American), which wouldn’t be hard at all for Sidney and her friend, but today proved to be quite a challenge for sure. Her and Sasha both after the first mile had separated themselves from the rest of the girls and were own their own. The first one to show signs of weakness was Sidney, who had moments where she would tip tap on the ground in an abnormal pattern. Whenever this would happen Sasha would look over at her and smirk. About halfway through and at Sidney was already struggling way too much. They stopped at the turnaround point.
”Need to pee Sid? You know you could always just go in those bushes over there.” Sasha said all of this with a big smile on her face. Sidney looked closer; she had to pee, she was absolutely sure, it’s just that she was really good at hiding it. “Well Sid, are you going or should we start back up?”
Sidney knew what she had to do, “let’s go.”
Sasha set off with a blast with Sidney by her side.
...
It took just 10 minutes for Sidney to realize her choice was a mistake as her bladder was filled to the max and she had no choice but to keep running to and hope to avoid public humiliation. She knew Sasha was at her limit too, as her friend was oddly on her tiptoes every time she took a step, and she stuck her butt in the air as if to keep her bladder from feeling the full impact of her stride. Still Sasha turned over to her, “you giving in Sidney? Come on we just have half a mile to go. I thought you were better than this.”
Sidney didn’t hear the last part, as she sprung a leak. She got it under control but she now felt a wet reminder of what just happened every time she lifted her foot off the ground. “Let’s keep pushing the pace.”
...
It was there, the school. Only it stood 400 meters away on the other side of the stoplight. Sidney noticed her friend was on the verge of her bladder exploding as well, so she got an idea. “Sprint the last 400?”
Sasha grimaced under her smile. “You’re on!”
At the signal they were off. Sidney saw the end. She was going to make it, she tripped on her own shoelace. She stumbled and struggled to keep her balance and when she got up she felt her crotch go warm. She was peeing, and she couldn’t stop it. Her pee flowed down her right pant leg and onto the concrete below, but Sidney continued to sprint her heart out all the way to the finish. Right next to her Sasha was keeping up as the two simultaneously crossed the pavement line and to their water bottles.
Sidney just finished peeing as she reached the pavement line and looked back. A near straight line of her pee stained around 200 meters of pavement, but it was weird because there was another near similar line of what looked like liquid right next to hers, but it wasn’t hers, it was Sasha’s.
Thanks for reading and to be continued. |
this story is based on true events. all names have been altered. the point of view is from the person(s) it happened to, not me. enjoy!
Part One
A couple days ago, my friends and I (we're three girls and one boy. yes, I'm the odd boy out) had begun a road trip from New Jersey to Colorado. It wasn't the most exciting thing, to be honest. Quite the opposite, really. We had to be in Colorado by a certain date so most of the time was spent crammed in a Camry, looking at empty plains of dying grass. The only stops we ever made was to pee, to eat, or to sleep.
Today marked the last day of the trip. It was also the longest we would be driving consecutively. Reason being, we had to be at our hotel for no later than midnight. Which would seem like a doable feat except we had overslept and not got on the road until 10 am. We were currently in Sioux City, Iowa and we needed to get to Broughton, Colorado. That's a 12 hr 30 min drive. That means all the breaks we normally take would have to be cut in half so we could arrive at our hotel between 11-11:30pm.
Tessa, the oldest in the group, was the sole driver. Kylie, the youngest, always sat passenger because she managed navigations. I, wanting to relax, sat in the back with Sophie, we're the same age (she's super shy so she likes the most inconspicuous spot). I usually rotated between sleeping and playing racing games on my phone in the back.
About 3 hours into the drive, Tessa turns down the radio to speak up. "Is there not a gas station we can stop off? I need to use the restroom." she asks Kylie.
Kylie lets out a sigh, looking back over our ETA on the GPS. "But our next break wasn't meant to be until another hour. This will make us late."
Tessa bites her lip, obviously weighing the odds between relieving herself and keeping on schedule. She had a relatively small bladder and I'm assuming it was only made worse by the two cups of coffee she had downed this morning to hype herself up for the long drive.
"...okay. Just please make sure to tell me when the hour is up so we can pull off somewhere. Stat."
Kylie nodded and turned the radio back up. I, myself, like to think I have a sizable bladder. I can typically go about eight hours without needing to make a run to the bathroom. Kylie had an average sized bladder whereas Sophie's shyness often led to embarrassing accidents or close calls.
27 minutes later and I see Tessa is rubbing her hand up and down her thigh. Her lips are pressed into a thin line and I can tell it's taking all her willpower to focus on the road ahead.
"Are we at the hour mark yet?" Tessa asks.
Kylie rolls her eyes, "I already said I'll tell you when we are." she replies nonchalantly.
Tessa lets out a frustrated sigh and re-adjusts herself in the driver seat. Some more minutes pass and she's switched out rubbing her thigh for bouncing her right leg up and down.
She pulls on the seat beat that's digging into her distended bladder and lets out a heavy breath. It's a humid day out and I can see sweat forming on her brow line. I feel bad for her. I can't ever imagine needing to go that badly.
I space out for who knows how long. It must have been a good chunk of time because Tessa looks even worse. She's rubbing her bulging bladder and grimacing. Her knuckles are white as she grips the steering wheel. Her leg bouncing has got more aggressive and she can't sit still in her seat.
"The hour has to be over now, surely!" she suddenly snaps.
"Oh yeah. We passed it like 19 minutes ago. My bad." Kylie replies, sheepishly smiling.
Tessa grunts. "Just find somewhere for us to pull over or I'm gonna piss myself!"
"Ok, ok, drama queen." Kylie searches on the phone and frowns. "We just passed the nearest exit to pull off. Next one isn't for another 5 miles."
"Fuck..." Tessa chews on her lip. I've never seen her face so red before. "Alright, tell me when I need to pull off."
Tessa's hand has shot down between her thighs. Her legs are glued together and her face is contorted in a mixture of pain and focus.
I watch her writhe against the protests of her bladder for the next 5 miles. "Ok, here. This exit leads us straight to a gas station." Kylie says.
"Oh, thank god." Tessa remarks and makes a sharp swerve onto the exit. The car hits an unexpected pothole in the road as she does so. Tessa whimpers and her eyes go wide.
Her legs clench harder together. She's definitely leaked. "Fuck, fuck..." she murmurs and speeds the car forward into the gas station.
Before we can even pull up, she's flung off her seat belt and unbuttoned the top of her jeans. She rams into a parking spot. "I-I'll be right back." she stutters.
She slams open the car door and jumps out. The liquids in her bladder hit her full force as she stands up. She bends over with a groan and shuffles about, doing a full potty dance. "I shouldn't have waited so long." she whimpers again.
Tessa sucks in a harsh breath and shuts her eyes. After a second, she stands up again. Her hand still jammed between her legs, she waddles into the station. She converses briefly with the cashier, pressing back and forth on her heels, before darting to the back.
As I enter the station with the others behind me, we hear the bathroom door open and close with a loud thud.
Tessa looks at the toilet in bliss. Her bladder twitches painfully now it knows its relief is so close. Her hands fumble to slid her jeans down. She curses as another two second leak escapes into her blue panties.
With one last tug, she slaps her butt on the porcelain seat and a fat, hot jet pee shoots out instantly. "Ahhh..." her lips quiver as she moans in relief. Her head goes back as her bladder finally starts to empty. She never thought peeing could feel so good.
After a minute, the once full jet of pee is now a trickle. She looks down at her sodded panties. "Damn it, I liked these ones." she frowns and pulls them up. The cool, wet sensation tickling her labia.
I see Tessa as she exits the bathroom. She looks much happier and her face not so red.
"Do any of you need to go?" she asks. Kylie and Sophie nod and go off to the bathroom together.
I, on the other nod, shake my head. "Nah, I'm good."
Tessa raises an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You haven't gone since we left and you almost had as much coffee as me."
"Guess my bladder is just lucky like that." I shrug.
"If you say so." she says and goes off to get us some snacks and water.
I absentmindedly look over at the men's restroom's. My bladder is showing no signs of needing relief. I'd doubt if I had to go anytime soon. I haven't been seriously desperate since junior high anyhow, why would that change today?
to be continued in part two... |
this story is based on true events.
Part Two
I took big gulps of my gatorade with satisfaction. It was summer and we had passed the Nebraska state line an hour or some ago. It was 90°F (32.2°C) outside and the car's AC was doing little to make the heat any better. I looked over at Sophie. Her cheeks were flushed red. I half chuckled. "You look worse off than me, Soph. Do you need another water?" I ask, reaching into the cooler between us.
If possible, her cheeks grew brighter red. She nods slowly. "Uh, y-yeah, a water would be nice."
I look around the cooler and realize Kylie must have had the last one. I opt to grab another beverage. "Looks like we're fresh out of water, how about a cold iced tea instead? It's even your favorite flavor, peach."
She eyes the 18.5 fl oz drink hesitantly. There's a pause. She discreetly looks down at the three other iced teas she's already down since Tessa needed to go. The heat had been beating down on her too and she had kept drinking without much thought about the consequences. Though she knows she can just say no to another iced tea, she's feel too awkward and mean to do so . "Thanks..." she meekly says and takes it from me.
I watch her as she takes a healthy gulp of the cool liquid and casually crosses her legs. I then return to the dull scenery of tumbleweeds and dying crops. I frequently take sips of my own drink, the heat exacerbating my thirst. I feel a twinge in my bladder but ignore it.
"Alright gang, we originally had planned a pit stop at this exit here but if nobody has to pee, I say we keep driving. It will keep us ahead of schedule." Kylie speaks up.
"I'm cool to keep going." I reply, earning an agreeing nod from Tessa.
Kylie turns around to look at a silent Sophie. "What about you, Soph? Do you need to pee?"
Sophie fiddles with her hands in her lap. She shyly shakes her head and replies quietly. "...no, I'm okay until the next pit stop."
Kylie smiles, satisfied. "Great! We'll keep on driving for another three hours and that should bring us across the Colorado border."
"About time. Nebraska is killing my vibe." Tessa lamely jokes.
I continue to sip on another gatorade. I had finished my other bottle and I'm now nursing a new one. The twinge in my bladder from before has become stronger, but it doesn't bother me too much. I know I can hold it until the next pit stop. More mindless phone games pass the next two hours. However, my focus is deterred when I hear a soft, strained whimper.
I look up. It's Sophie. She's subtly hiked her hand up her sundress and is grabbing her crotch. I can see a thin glisten of sweat on her forehead and thighs. And it doesn't look like it's from the heat.
"You ok, Soph?" I ask, noticing the iced tea I gave her is empty.
She abruptly pulls her hand away and looks at me flushed. "Totally f-fine. Just not good in the heat." she weakly humors.
"Ok, but you know if you need us to stop, you can just say so, right?" I say, not believing her.
"Mm-hm." she replies with a thin smile. I pretend to go back to gaming but watch Sophie from the corner of my eye.
I've seen her have a handful of accidents before. The most memorable was at her sister's wedding. That was a real disaster. But surely she wouldn't push herself past her limits like this now. Or so I thought. The next fifteen minutes prove otherwise. Thinking I wasn't looking, she went back to grabbing her crotch. She bends over and twist her face in grimace. She crosses her legs over and over again but the effectiveness seems to be waning fast.
I want to speak up on her behalf, to put her out of her misery, but the curious side of me had the stronger urge to see if she would finally speak up.
"Ah, bear with me guys. This road up here is seriously underworked." Tessa warns.
Just as Tessa said, the car jostles around and makes ungraceful bumps along the dips of the road. Sophie tenses with each bump. Her face is constantly screwed up in agony. She lowly groans frequently.
At this point, my need to ease my friend's pain overrides my curiosity. "Hey, guys, we need to—"
Pssst. I freeze as I hear the sound of a strong, torrent of piss. It last for three seconds. I look down over at Sophie. Her face has gone pale.
"P-please! Can we pull over now? I have to..." she trails, groaning again, tensing her whole body.
Kylie widens her eyes. "Oh my god, Soph. You look in serious bad shape. Why didn't you speak up sooner?"
Sophie doesn't say anything, she just hangs her head shamefully. Now the cat is out of the bag, she's foregoes any subtlety in hiding her desperation.
She's wiggling around in her seat and huffing. Her face is as red as Tessa's was when she needed to go, but maybe even worse.
Tessa and Kylie are hurriedly coordinating to get us off the road. They finally spot a restaurant (one of those really questionable restaurants that you would only ever visit if you was a local).
The road hasn't gotten any better and I wince every time the car hits a bump, knowing how it has to be taking a toll on Sophie. She's hiked up her sundress up more. I can see her legs are shaking and the small part of her panties that are visible are completely damp.
"Alright, I'm pulling up right now. Ok, Soph?" Tessa says, looking back at Sophie through the rear mirror with worry.
Sophie nods weakly. Her eyes are shut closed. She lets out a soft gasp as I hear another, strong leak leave her. Tessa pulls into the parking spot and I quickly exit the car to open the door for Sophie.
As she looks up at me, I feel awful for not speaking up sooner. Her eyes are watery and her lip is trembling. She looks so helpless. "Do you want me to help you out?" I offer.
She shakes her head. As she gingerly steps out, still bent over, I see why she declined my help. Wet trickles down her legs and the back of her sundress has a noticeable wet patch. The car seat seems to have been spared for the most part -- nothing a few wet wipes can't clean up.
Sophie looks into the restaurant and almost cries when she sees it's a full house. It was bad enough her friends had to see her pathetically try to stop herself from having an accident, but now a bunch of strangers too? She looked around the parking lot, contemplating just squatting behind the car. But of course there are people out here too. They were already giving her weird side looks and whispering. Her only salvation would be the privacy of the restroom inside.
Sucking in a breath, she reluctantly removes her hand. Her fingertips are completely wet with her piss. She then manages to unwind herself from her bent over position. Her bladder pinches at her painfully as she stands up. Another leak shoots down her leg. She does one last ungraceful bounce before walking into the restaurant.
I walk behind Sophie so that no one can see her wet patch. I'm tall and broad enough to cover her. I ask a waiter for the restrooms and he points to a spot in the middle of the restaurant.
It's one, family restroom that looks like it was built in the late 1800's. It's small and is made out of wood. The door creaks as a person enters. Worse part is as the person inside relieves themselves, everyone can hear their piss hitting the toilet bowl with crystal clarity. Everyone seems to be used to it though as they casually eat their food.
Sophie tries her best not to look like a toddler who overestimated the size of their bladder, but it's hard. That iced tea she downed earlier had filled her already aching bladder. To make matters worse, the restroom was her worse nightmare. She had been better off squatting behind the car, but any attempt to turn back now would leave her making a puddle before she made it all the way.
"It's ok, I'll be right out here." I assure her, knowing how this to be difficult for someone as shy as Sophie.
She smiles a bit at me. "Thanks." she manages as we come to a stop outside the restroom. There's two people in front of us. With each second going by, Sophie's worry she'll have another accident increases. Her bladder bulges through her sundress like she's newly pregnant. She rubs her bladder and bounces on her feet. Another leak winds it way down her slender legs. It leaves a visible water spot on the wooden floor panels.
Sophie focuses on anything but her growing need in what seems like the longest four minutes of her life. Despite her best efforts, she can't hide how badly she has to go. She's moving all over the place and fidgeting with her dress. She eyes the kitchen to the left of her. There's massive pots hanging up and she daydreams of slapping her pained urethra over one of them and emptying the sloshing contents of her bladder into the stainless steel pot.
The thought makes her shiver and she bits her lip harshly to stop a loud groan from escaping her. Finally, the last person that was in front of her exits the restroom. "It's your turn now, Soph. Remember, I'm right out here." I say to her.
But she doesn't hear me. The short, old toilet sings to her. Just a few more steps and relief will be hers. But her bladder doesn't care. It would not wait any longer. Sophie widened her eyes as she felt between her legs loosening up to gush out relief. In a quick feat, she darted into the restroom and haphazardly closed the door behind her.
She didn't even have time to sit or pull down her panties. She stood over the toilet as piss violently shot into the toilet below her. She lifted up her dress with one hand as she moaned at the immense relief. Just as Tessa had, she swung her head back as her body quivered at the delight of releasing its self of all the pent up liquid.
She steadied herself with a hand to the wall. She could feel something about to bloom between her legs. A peegasm. She experienced these frequently due to usually holding out on the restroom for long periods of time. Just as she felt herself on the verge, she realized the restaurant was quiet.
She opened her eyes and looked forward. The whole restaurant was looking at her relieve herself. In her rush to get in, she must have not closed the door properly. Almost everyone had stopped eating as they observed her hiked up dress, damp pink flower panties, and the hot piss of a mess she was making.
Even so, she couldn't stop what was coming. Her clitoris eased and racked her body with the most intense pee shivers. She involuntarily moaned loudly as the feeling spread throughout her. Her piss still flowing down into the toilet and her hard nipples gently stretching the fabric of her dress.
As she came down from her high, tears started to fall down her face. She sobbed hard as her piss became a trickle.
I really should have closed the door when it first happened but Sophie had oddly looked so arousing being that relieved. Her freckled face un-tensing and her long blonde hair falling down her back as she had put her head back to moan.
Her bare, slim pale legs had even been a sight to behold as piss had run down them. I couldn't have been the only one to see it as the other restaurant goers seemed to have been just as mesmerized by the sight. I noted a couple men shifting in their seat, no doubt hiding their hard-ons.
I didn't have time to speak before Sophie's pee came to a stop and she darted out of the restaurant in record speed. Her steps making squeaking sounds from when her sandals had been forced to soak up her long leaks.
I jogged after her. She rested behind the restaurant where no cars or people could see her. She was still sobbing. I looked down at her sympathetically.
"I can't believe I just did that. All those people...I'm so embarrassed. I'm a freak." she cried.
I knelt down beside her and comforted her. To be honest, I had been planning to use the restroom myself, but after everything, the need had slipped my mind. Kneeling down sent another warning sign to relieve myself but I ignored it again.
After a few moments, her crying came to a stop. Sophie would never tell anyone but what made her feel even more shameful was that having all those people watching had made her peegasm all the more intense for her.
Kylie and Tessa had found us and they walked over. Kylie had a change of clothes in her hand. "Aww, you didn't make it." she said in sympathy but it came off more patronizing. "Here. Tessa and I got these for you. From what we cleaned up from the car, I figured you'd need it."
I helped Sophie up. "I'll wait for you guys in the car then." I spoke up and headed off. I rubbed my bladder absentmindedly. It spasmed in protest and I instinctively grabbed and re-adjusted myself through my jeans. I looked back at the restaurant, but remembering the scene Sophie had just made put me off from hopping in for a quick leak.
I looked down at my watch. We'd been on the road for about seven hours now. Last time I went was at the hotel. We were an hour from where had originally meant to stop for a pit stop. Knowing Kylie though, she would make us drive through to Denver to make up for this unexpected stop. That meant it would be another 3 hours and a little until I could pee.
The initial thought made me contemplate the restaurant again. However, my confidence in my ability to hold won in the end. Three hours would make it 10 hours total in holding. I could definitely do that, I thought arrogantly. I had easily gone whole school days and work shifts without bursting for a pee.
With that resolution, I settled back into the car. I chuckled a bit to myself. I bet I wouldn't even feel the time flying by.
to be continued in part three...
A/N: sorry for the long delay on this. life was busy and I didn't want to post anything half ass. part three won't take as long as to be posted, promise! also, thanks for all the upvotes and reactions!! i didn't expect so much for my first story, it's much appreciated. |
Part Three
Before officially getting back on the road, Tessa insisted we find a drive thru Starbucks. She complained she was nearing her burn out point.
I ordered a venti Starbucks refresher. The car was still hot and despite my growing need, I was really craving something sweet and thirst quenching.
Not even thirty minutes back on route, half my drink was gone. Not feeling the effects on my bladder yet, I downed the other half even quicker. As the last of it emptied into me, my bladder bulged more. It pushed against the tightness of my belt and jeans. I adjusted myself.
I glanced at my watch for another time. We still had over two hours to cover. I decided a nap could do me some good. I wasn't sure how much more phone gaming I could take. I slept for roughly 2 hrs 11 minutes before my bladder woke me up with a startle.
I grunted and my hand instinctively went to my bladder. It was as hard as a rock. I widened my eyes. I had never known my bladder could feel like that. I winced as I applied a bit of pressure.
I felt confident to hold but 5 minutes passed and that confidence started to dwindle. My need was becoming exponentially worse. I discreetly grabbed my crotch. The pressure eased what felt like a sure leak.
I held myself like this for the next ten minutes but its effectiveness was waning. My bladder twinged painfully, unsatisfied with my non-compliance to relieve myself. I tried adjusting myself again but instead it sent a wave of desperation through me.
The tip of my cock moistened with a small leak. I groaned under my breath. Fuck, I needed to pee and urgently.
"Uh, are we stopping anytime soon?" I asked, trying to hide the desperation in my voice.
"Oh, you was asleep but we decided to drive pass Denver, because it was so busy. We'll stop off at the next rest stop."
"...right and when's that?" I asked impatiently.
"I don't know, to be honest. It's all sticks and canyons from here on out to the hotel. Maybe like 20 minutes? That's about how long ago we saw the last one."
Damn it! If I hadn't been sleeping, I would have asked to stop off at that one.
Tessa looked back at me through the rear mirror and I quickly stopped holding myself. Waves of desperation flowed over me and I bit my lip harshly.
"You good, hun?"
"Yeah, just gotta go." I laughed lightly, playing it casual when all I wanted to do was piss out the window.
She nodded. "I get it. I'll be sure to pull off at the next rest stop."
That was music to my ears. I muttered a small thanks and slumped back in my seat. I had leaked more while not holding myself. The damp wetness of my boxers brushing against the head of my cock only tempted me to release all the more.
But the rest stop was what kept me sane. Sweat had started to trickle down the back of my neck. I wanted to undo my belt but it would be too obvious. It dug right into my bulging bladder. Every time I moved, it would pinch me and make me leak a little more.
Time crawled on slowly. I bounced my leg and gripped my crotch tighter. I couldn't think of anything else but wanting to piss. I closed my eyes and all I saw was a blessed urinal and a thick, jet of piss leaving me. It drove me mad.
20 minutes came and went. No rest stop in sight. "Still no rest stops?" I asked, my voice croaking.
"Seems like it." Tessa said.
I looked out onto the empty road and desert next to it with little covering. It wasn't ideal but it would work.
"Can you just stop? I'll be quick and go in one of the bushes."
"Out here?" Kylie asked, bewildered.
"Yeah, I really don't care. I just need to piss." I said, exasperated.
"...ok. It's a one-way road though so if a car comes, you'll have to get back in immediately or I'll get in trouble." Tessa told me.
"Yeah, yeah, will do." I said absentmindedly, more focused on my nearing relief.
She slowed the car. Despite wanting to dash out, I had to be slow to get out or I would undoubtedly soak myself. It was excruciating moving so slowly when I knew relief was inches away.
Once out, I waddled to a bush and some cactus'. Out of sight but close by. My body knew I was finally ending this torment and sent all alarms blazing to my bladder. It spasmed and I doubled over. I squeezed my aching cock one more time before fumbling with one hand to get my belt free.
After a few seconds, it unlatched and I hurriedly unzipped my trousers. I was already peeing as I whipped out my cock. My eyes fluttered as I sprayed the bush happily with my piss.
45 seconds went by and it was still going strong with no signs of letting up. I felt my bulging bladder lessen but sadly it wouldn't get the full emptying we both wanted.
A loud honk alarmed me. "Incoming car! We gotta go!" Kylie shouted.
I cursed. I wasn't nearly done yet. I tried to get more piss out faster but there was still so much and no time left. With the honking not stopping, I woefully pinched the end of my cock to seize peeing. I dripped for a few seconds before I successfully cut the stream off.
I stuffed my cock back in my jeans and did up my belt, this time not so tight. I definitely felt better. It made me hopeful such desperation wouldn't fall upon me so soon.
I jogged it back to the car in time and slipped in at the back. Sophie handed me a wet one as I settled and I cleaned my hands.
"You have a dam in you or something? That was a long ass piss." Kylie criticized.
And that wasn't even half of it, I thought. "I got a big bladder, what else can I say?"
"For your sake, I hope so. Next pee break isn't until we're in the hotel or we won't make it for check in. It's about 4 hrs away." she retorted.
"Won't be a problem." I lied.
I would be ok until then, right? I didn't get to finish but I did pee. I wishfully thought my desperation and fidgeting was behind me but a growing bulge in my bladder told me otherwise.
to be continued in part 4...
Edited July 31, 2021 by imleaking
forgot to put a title
(see edit history) |
Part Four
After an hour in, I felt my eased desperation of 4/10 escalate back to a solid 6/10. All those drinks I had been downing all day were still making their way into my bladder steadily.
I couldn't possibly ask to stop off again. It was embarrassing enough that I had to make a mad dash to the bushes earlier. The worst part? It was still hot as hell and my mouth was as dry as paper.
I eyed the cooler next to me. All the waters were gone, only a few iced sweet teas remained. I knew tea would only amp my need but my thirst was dire. I popped the lid off and drank healthy gulps of the cool liquid. My bladder pushed forward uncomfortably as I did so.
I put a hand over my bulging abdomen. It sent a sensation through me and I squeezed my legs together. I let out a low breath. Ok, distraction. I need a distraction, I deduced. I put in some earphones and decided to listen to some music. This worked for around hour and half. In that time, my need easily went up to a 8/10.
I was fidgeting around in my seat constantly, trying to find a position that would help me ignore it. But nothing worked. Pissing in that bush seemed like a distant dream. Oh, how I wished I had just kept going back then.
It was dark outside and Sophie and Kylie were sleeping. Luckily, this allowed me to hold myself without remorse.
Time crawled on agonizingly slow and my need gradually moved up to a 9/10. My face was red and sweat formed on my brow. I glanced at a yawning Tessa. Discreetly, I took my belt off. The release of pressure was almost enough to make me forget reason and make a puddle in my seat.
I could finally breathe a bit. I shoved my hand in my jeans and shamelessly grabbed myself through my boxers. I grunted. That definitely took the edge off.
I felt confident again. Like this, I could make it to the hotel room dry. But the odds were against me today. The roads had shifted from paved to gravel. The car jostled about, hitting dips frequently. I groaned as little leaks spurted out. Again, the wet fabric rubbing teasingly against the head of my cock. I didn't know how much more of this I could take.
"Hey," Tessa spoke up with a yawn. The sudden speaking made me quickly yank my hand out my pants. This caused a longer leak.
"I know the car's under my name but I seriously think I might fall asleep behind the wheel in a minute here. Do you mind taking over? The hotel is like 30 minutes away."
"T-take over?" I stuttered. I could barely keep myself together in the backseat with this level of desperation, let alone drive.
"Please," she begged. "I'll owe you one."
I bit my lip and sighed. "Ok, ok, I'll switch."
Tessa pulled the car over. I had to sneak my belt back on and my bladder spasmed painfully in retaliation. I gingerly stepped out the car. As I walked to the driver's seat, I eyed the empty field next to me. I could piss right there and be free. It was dark enough for me to get away with it.
"Better hop in. If we don't go now, we'll miss check in." Tessa piqued from the back.
"...yeah." I said and looked longingly at the field while I drove us off.
It was hard to focus on the road. I couldn't hold myself like before and doing so through my jeans offered little comfort. I really regretted that sweet iced tea now. It was working its way into my already full bladder.
My cock ached. It was tired of holding back the tsunami of pee only being held back by my willpower. I was too.
The leaks were constant now. I had a golf ball sized patch on the front of my jeans. I was now reliving the desperation I had seen in my friends. From Tessa's close call to Sophie's gushing piss over the restaurant toilet. What relief they must have felt.
I groaned and my cock twitched with another leak. The patch grew to a tennis ball. I was grateful my jeans were dark. I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to go so bad. Fuck check in, I was pulling over and pissing right now.
But as I said that, the hotel came into view. Tempting as it was to piss on the side of the road, I decided against it. I was not a toddler. I was a grown man and I could hold it until I got to our hotel room.
I drove onward and soon reached the parking lot. My need was now a strong 11/10. I slammed opened the driver's side and climbed out. I instantly doubled over. I could barely move without risking a full blown accident.
I had to wake the others up. The rooms were under Tessa's name. I silently cursed.
"Guys, wake up!" I yelled and crossed my legs tighter together. I repeated this a couple times before they awoke, each time having to do a potty dance to stop from pissing in the parking lot.
Everything was a blur as we walked into the lobby. I tried not to look desperate but I couldn't not hold myself. I'd piss everywhere otherwise.
As soon as the check in lady handed us the first room key, I snatched it. "I'll bring our stuff up." I croaked.
"I'll come with." Kylie chimed in. I paid little attention to her as I dashed into the elevator. I hit our floor number with a shaky and sweaty hand.
"Come on, come on..." I mouthed and rocked back and forth on my heels.
Kylie giggled. "Guess your bladder isn't that big after all." she teased and poked my distended bladder. I winced and a sharp, surprise leak shot out of me.
"Don't do that!" I snapped.
She only giggled some more. The doors opened and I stepped out. I frantically looked down the hallway for our room. My free hand was already at my belt, undoing the latch, preparing for my long overdue relief.
"We're here." Kylie said, pointing to a door. I put the key in and out, but the light went red. I tried again two more times but same thing.
"Why won't it open?!" I exclaimed exasperated, tears forming at my eyes. I just wanted to get inside and pee.
"Because it's upside down, idiot." Kylie took the key from me and with one swipe, the door lit green. I groaned and held my bladder.
Kylie opened the door and I instantly went towards the bathroom. I had made it. I was in the hotel room, mostly dry, and I could finally pee.
Before I could get inside, however, Kylie went in. "Kylie, what the hell?! I need to fucking go!"
"Me too! You can wait." she shouted back. I wanted to kill her, but more importantly, I knew my time was up.
I slumped against the wall. A full spurt ran down my leg and into my socks. I shamelessly grabbed myself under my boxers. It stopped any further leaks. I heard Kylie's piss hit the toilet bowl. It was loud, she must have been needing to go a good amount too. The sound filled my ears and that was my breaking point.
"I can’t…I can’t hold it anymore…" I groaned painfully. I spotted a small empty trash can and rushed to it.
In a quick motion, I whipped my cock out and let loose. A torrent of piss noisily hit against the plastic trash bag. I moaned out in sheer relief and put a hand against the wall. "Ahh…"
I faintly heard the others coming in and exclaiming something, but I didn't care. There was no sweeter bliss than this moment. I shuddered as piss after piss emptied from me. My cock stiffened slightly from how good it felt. After about 2 minutes, it finally came to a trickle.
Never again would I wait that long to piss again, I thought. This roadtrip had definitely taught me that lesson.
Too bad for our protagonist here, this certainly wouldn't be the last time he would be bursting for a piss.
alright guys, that was the last part. thanks for reading! this guy is based off someone in my real life who I had the pleasure of witnessing both pissing on the side of the road and relieving himself in a bathtub (I used a trash can here because it fit better). same goes for the other characters too (you can expect more stuff on sophie soon). hope you look forward to my other stuff! |
This story I actually ended up writing because I was sending extensive emails to my friend Dennis in Belgium and we were talking about how in Europe he was saying how that there is sort of a medieval design to the city where there isn't as much room to include new bathrooms, and a lot of the bathrooms that were included were sort of out-of-the-way or and inconvenient areas, and that a lot of places the bathrooms were really claustrophobic and you might have to push her way through people to get in for a bathroom. I had experienced this before and I have to say getting pushed through large crowds of people just to get into the bathroom is annoying, but it made me think of one time when this big fat woman sort of pushed her way through the bathroom line and that ultimately ended up inspiring this story. Originally I was thinking of writing one of the other ones on my list, but then I decided I would write this one while the inspiration struck me directly based on my conversations that I was having in emails. I basically finished the emails and said you know what, I'll make this into a story including the character names and everything. Also in my blog at https://desperatejill83.livejournal.com/6383.html
Pushing Your Way to the Bathrooms in the Back
Jill was glad that they managed to get a spot up front where they could see the show really good and clear but she had to admit that it was so packed and the fact that they all had to stand up pressed together shoulder to shoulder was making her extremely claustrophobic.
The bigger problem however was that after standing for several hours Jill was finding that standing up was making her really pack back the liquids to avoid getting dehydrated from the exhaustion of standing, and she soon started to realize that she really needed the bathroom pretty bad.
"Where is the bathroom around here?" Jill finally asked.
"The bathroom is really way towards the back, so it's not really all that convenient," Dennis said as he stood on tip toes and pointed way in the back of the place. "Do you think maybe you can just hold it a little while longer?"
Jill shifted from leg to leg. "You see the thing is I have been already holding it for several hours and I really really have to go! Do you think that maybe we could go find the bathroom now?"
Dennis had to admit that he had to go to the bathroom as well, but the place was so packed that getting to the back of the room where the bathrooms were would be an ordeal. He hadn't considered this when they decided that they would get up front so that they could see the show best.
"You know Jill I think that the show is going to be over soon, so we should probably just wait until the end," Dennis said as Jill sort of frowned and danced in place.
Dennis had to admit that his own need to go to the bathroom was growing by the moment, so he could understand why Jill was getting extremely anxious. At the same time he found it entertaining to see her shifting from foot to foot, as it seemed like she had to go to the bathroom even more than he did because she couldn't stop drinking the entire time since they arrived.
"Oh my God when are we finally going to get to a bathroom," Lisa said as she began dancing in place.
"I know right?" Jill said as the two of them looked at Dennis who simply shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm sorry I simply cannot wait any longer," Lisa said as she began to push her way through the crowd.
"Wait for me," Jill said but found it kind of hard to push through the crowd as there were just too many people. She wasn't quite as pushy as Lisa who was already pushing her way through the crowd of people like she were swimming across a hostile ocean or fighting against the tide.
"It looks like Lisa is a little bit more pushy about getting to the bathroom," Dennis said as he watched her shove her way through the crowd.
Jill shook her head. "I don't like having to brush past so many people just to get to the bathroom. Are you sure that this thing is going to be over soon?"
Dennis looked at his watch. "I would say that within the next half hour we should definitely be out of here, or the show will be over at least."
"A half hour?" Jill said shifting in place and looking at her watch. "A half hour is a long time when you have to go to the bathroom."
"Hey I have to go too, so I know where you are coming from," Dennis said as he laughed but Jill wasn't laughing along with him. Jill was already thinking that there might be a long bathroom line by the time she managed to fight her way to the back where the bathrooms were, where as he probably would not have a very long line, if any.
"This is why I suddenly remembered why I don't like crowded places," Jill said. She enjoyed the fact that they got a good view to the show, even though it meant standing up in the front, which was making her tired, but now she was tired because her bladder was also full.
"Thank you everybody for attending this event and I hope that you all enjoyed yourself," the head of the band said as the show ended.
"Finally!" Jill said as she prepared to bolt to the back where the bathrooms were only to see that there was a huge crowd of people blocking her way. "Excuse me, coming through," Jill said as she tried to press past a bunch of people but found that she could barely move.
"I think you're going to have to be a little bit more aggressive if you want to get through this crowd Jill," Dennis said wondering about whether he should yell fire until realizing that that would probably just make everything worse and was probably illegal.
Dennis began pushing his way through the crowds and Jill started following shortly afterwards. One woman she bumped into hit her elbow right into Jill's stomach and bladder area.
"Sorry," the woman said as she laughed.
"Be careful!" Jill said not needing to get hit in the bladder like that. One thing that Jill hated other than having to pee in a public situation, was having to pee in a public situation while having to press past a bunch of people who were a lot more pushy than she was.
Jill tried to look over the heads of the people that she was pushing through and she could see the Dennis had already almost halfway made his way towards the back of the room.
"Excuse me, girl with a full bladder coming through here," Jill said trying as politely as possible to push through the crowd but finding that she was getting a lot more pushback than she had wanted. For a moment she thought that maybe she should yell fire, but then she figured that would clear the whole place out and she would be in a lot of trouble and wouldn't get to use the bathroom besides.
Finally Jill had managed to push her way towards the back of the club until she began looking for the bathrooms. As she was pressed up against the wall with a bunch of other women she thought that maybe she would ask them.
"You know where the bathroom is?" Jill asked.
"I think that we are somewhere near it and perhaps already in line for it," an obese blonde woman said as she sort of pushed Jill aside and started surging ahead of her. That's when she could see that the woman was surging towards the bathroom rather rapidly and seemingly trying to deflect all of the women that were in her path.
"I wish I were the size of a rhinoceros right now, then I could just push past everyone like that too," Jill said shaking her head and trying to make her way towards the bathroom line but finding that other women were blocking her path. "Excuse me, I really need to get to the bathroom!"
Jill gradually found her way into a large group of women who were just sort of crushed together outside of the bathroom and it wasn't quite obvious where the line actually began, as it was just a whole bunch of women who were sort of pressed together in one location rather than organized into an orderly line.
"Is this the bathroom line?" Jill asked a woman pressed up against the wall next to her.
"I don't think we have quite entered the line yet, I don't think there will be a line until we managed to get our way to the door," the woman said as Jill tried looking over the heads of the women blocking her way to the bathroom door. It was true that there was no clear line, just a whole bunch of women who were all crowded together in one area outside of the bathroom area, and it seemed like as they approached the door they slowly got into the line.
Jill tried to push her way through the crowd of women but they were all blocking her path, so she figured that she would probably have to wait for this large mass of women to just eventually organize themselves in a more coherent fashion, but her patience was wearing thin as the pressure in her bladder was growing more intense.
Jill tried making her way towards the bathroom door but a couple of other women pushed her up against the wall and she found that she couldn't exactly push through them and move, so now she was stuck in sort of a quandary. She couldn't exactly get to the bathroom, but she couldn't exactly leave the crowd even if she wanted to as she was now pressed up against the wall.
Eventually the crowd dispersed a little bit and a more orderly line filled out, but there were so many women just pressed up against the wall that it wasn't very clear where everyone was in line, and a couple of women seemed to be pushing their way towards the front and pushing Jill towards the back.
"Oh my God people are so rude," Jill said as she once again found herself pressed up against the wall. She generally figured that the women pressed up against the wall were sort of snaking towards the door to the bathroom, so she figured that she would just stay put, especially seeing as the crowd was blocking her view of anywhere else in the club. She couldn't remember the last time she saw so many people packed together like sardines.
"Hey Jill are you in here over here," Dennis said as he pushed his way through a crowd of women until he found Jill pressed up against the wall.
"How are we supposed even get into the bathroom with it so packed with people," Jill said.
Dennis shook his head. "Somehow I managed to push my way through to the bathroom and luckily it wasn't too crowded inside. Have you seen Lisa?"
Jill shook her head. "She disappeared like a half hour ago, a good half hour before the show was even over, she was pushier than we were, and for that I envy her!"
Jill finally managed to push her way inside of the hallway leading into the bathroom, which was just a long hallway where people could wait in line, but it was a very narrow hallway leading into the interior of the bathroom, so that as you were waiting in that line you were basically pressed up against the wall as other women sort of pushed their way by you with barely enough space for two people to occupy the same hallway.
"Excuse me, coming through," a woman said as she pushed her way past Jill. There was something especially frustrating and aggravating about the fact that you had to move out of the way as women who had already gotten to go to the bathroom pushed their way past you.
Jill was especially annoyed as she saw a little girl go skipping past merrily sticking out her tongue at all of the women in line. What was she even doing at a show like this?! What type of irresponsible person brings a young child like that to a concert at a club like this?
"Becky get your little ass back here," another big fat woman said as she chugged down a drink and pushed her way down the long line of women crushing them up against the wall and jostling Jill's bladder in the process.
"Well that answers that question," Jill said as she shrugged her shoulders and continued watching woman after woman pushing their way past on their way out of the bathroom.
However that was when Jill noticed someone that she recognized pushing her way down the hallway.
"Lisa," Jill said as Lisa started pushing her way past Jill. Now they were eye to eye basically crushed together in the hallway with their breasts sort of brushing past one another.
"It's pretty crowded in here isn't it," Lisa said with a laugh looking very relieved and relaxed.
"Don't tell me it's as crowded inside as it is on the outside," Jill said as she frowned.
"It's worse, I'll let Dennis know where you are though," Lisa said as she sort of continued pushing her way past. As Jill watched Lisa's ass as it receded into the distance as she walked down the hallway, she couldn't help but wish that she had been more pushy like she was, because then she would have been getting out of the bathroom by now instead of still looking down a long hallway full of women looking anxious and waiting for the bathroom.
"Lisa, you finally got out, where was Jill, did you see her in there?" Dennis said as Lisa came out of the bathroom.
Lisa nodded.
"So how does it look?" Dennis asked.
Lisa crossed her legs over one another and started making bending notions and frowning before she burst out laughing.
"Okay so I guess we won't be seeing Jill anytime soon," Dennis said laughing and rolling his eyes.
As Jill continued to watch woman after woman skipping down the hallway past her, or pushing their way through the very narrow hallway and pressing her up against the wall, her frustration began growing. But finally after what seemed like hours but was probably closer to 40 minutes she was finally almost into the bathroom itself instead of out of the labyrinth that was the hallway leading into the bathroom. She was only a few women from getting into the bathroom itself, even though the bathroom itself looked packed in every direction with several women lining up in front of individual stalls instead of everyone waiting for a stall to open, just so that they could fit more people into the bathroom at once.
"Oh my God this has to be the most inefficient bathroom set up I have ever witnessed," Jill said shaking her head, and she had seen a whole lot of bathroom setups, she had practically memorized every single one in the city.
As Jill was almost into the bathroom itself that was when she saw a familiar face, it was the big blonde rhinoceros who was pushing her way to get out of the bathroom, but as she tried to get back into the hallway she sort of stopped in her tracks.
"I can't fit," the morbidly obese blonde woman said as she tried to get into the hallway but found that she couldn't fit in the hallway with other women on the other side of the hallway.
"You managed to fit getting into the bathroom," Jill said with more than a little bit of snarky tone in her voice.
The woman shook her head." When I came into the bathroom I was waiting in a single line where I was the only one taking up room in the hall, but now I don't think that I can fit past all of the women in line to get out of the bathroom."
Jill wanted to tell the woman that maybe if she lost weight she could actually fit through a hallway, but she didn't want to antagonize this woman who finally got to go to the bathroom, where as her bladder was still very full.
"Well are you going to move," the woman finally said standing there with her hands on her massive hips and tapping her foot impatiently.
"What do you mean move? I am waiting in line for the bathroom." Jill shook her head.
The giant of a woman shook her head. "Look for me to get out of the bathroom I think that everyone else in line is going to have to clear a path for me so that I can get down this hallway, because otherwise I think I'm going to crush everybody on the way out."
"What are you freaking serious?" Jill said staring at the woman clearly annoyed, but the woman stared back at her and didn't seem like she was going to move on this issue.
"Come on I've got people waiting for me outside and they're going to wonder what happened to me," the big fat woman said.
Jill wanted to say that if they had any logic in their brains they probably would have suspected that she got stuck in the stall because she was too fat. Apparently she was somehow skinny enough to fit into the stall, though Jill didn't know how she managed that either, as this woman seemed like she would need something the size of an elephant cage to relieve herself in.
The big fat woman eventually started pushing her way through when Jill and the other woman started walking back in the line walking down the hallway as this woman pushed everybody back until they were all pushed out of the bathroom.
"Jill, you finally got out of the bathroom!" Lisa shouted as she laughed. "I didn't think we would be seeing you anytime in the next half hour."
"I didn't get to go to the bathroom yet, we all had to move because there was an elephant in the bathroom, or one of those giants from Easter Island," Jill said getting annoyed.
"Are you making fun of my weight," the blonde woman said, Jill not realizing that she was still there.
"Look I used to be fat myself, so I'm normally not one to make fun of someone's weight, but if you can't fit down a hallway by yourself I think that there is something of a problem, and now you had to push all of us out of the bathroom just so that you could make your way out of the bathroom, well I think that's kind of rude," Jill said as she began arguing with this woman.
"I have a glandular issue, it's not my fault, I think it's rude to make fun of people's weight," the woman said as Jill suddenly noticed that all of the women that had been pushed out of the bathroom were getting back in line and piling into the hallway ahead of her.
"Well if you excuse me some of us still have business to attend to," Jill said as the big fat woman sort of blocked her path to get back in line. "Excuse me do you think you can move?"
"I don't know, maybe I am too big to move, maybe I have my own gravitational force and that you won't be able to walk past me without being drawn into my orbit," the blonde woman said.
Dennis looked at his watch. "I don't mean to interrupt to this but I don't think we have time for you to wait in the back of the line Jill, we really do have to catch our bus."
The blonde woman smiled. "Actually I have a bus that I need to catch as well."
"I can't believe this!" Jill shouted as the blonde woman snorted and started walking off arrogantly, her big fat ass waddling up and down as she did so.
"Come on Jill, we will get on the bus and we will find a bathroom sooner than we would if we had to wait here," Lisa said as Dennis nodded.
Jill stomped her foot down. "God dammit, I just hope I never see that elephant woman ever again."
Lisa, Dennis and Jill piled onto the bus, but unfortunately the bus was also packed to the brim with people, and Jill found herself being crushed up against the wall by an all-too-familiar gigantic ass.
"Small world isn't it," the big fat blonde woman said as she was pressed right up against Jill, her elbow digging into Jill's bladder.
Jill wanted to say something snarky, wanted to say that the world would be a lot smaller without her added weight to it, but as she felt herself being pressed against the back of the bus, this woman's fat body crushing into her bladder, she knew that it was best not to antagonize the literal elephant in the room, because they had a long ride ahead of them and she knew that, now that she was with this woman again, that it would be a whole lot longer. |
Maybe I make a series about the princess, I don't know yet ^^
I am a princess of a country far away. I'm my parents pride, soft and gentle, as a true princess should be.
But I have a secret. A very dark secret. I am not innocent. I am sadistic and like to make my maids hold for me. Especially when a girl just became a woman and starts discovering her body. I can't resist this. Sometimes I make even princes hold. Their pride won't let them tell me about their needs. It's so fun and arousing to see their desperation grow.
Now I tell you about the ball we held some time ago. I had a new favorite maid. I noticed, that she was very shy around me, so I picked her to be my personal maid for that evening. Beforehand I told her what she had to expect. She looked at me like a puppy, when I told her that she can't leave my side, not even for one second. She haste my food and all my drinks to make sure I won't get poisoned. She felt honoured, didn't think about the meaning of this. And then the ball came. I called my maid and even let her wear one of my old dresses. I picked it on purpose, the corsage was very tight around the stomach. She was happy and accompanied me smiling down the stairs. I kept her always in sight, made her eat and drink. She was my pet. A pet, that started to feel uncomfortable as the hours went by. I saw the slight shifting and sometimes she even bent a bit over.
I decided to raise her desperation and gave her signs to follow me outside. I led her to the toilet and told her to wait and stand guard. I left the door open, so she could hear me piss. I heard a whimper from her and saw her hands crumpling the dress „What's wrong dear?“ I asked her softly, playing dumb. She blushed „N-Nothing, your majesty. B-But may I use the toilet too please?“ I got out and looked at her in shock „Of couse not! This toilet is for my family! You need to use the one in the maids chambers, but this is on the other side of the castle and we have to go back to the ball. You must not leave my side for so long.“ she looked at me desperately „Of course your majesty.“ she took a deep breathe and forced a smile. I took her hands „I can't be that bad, you barely drank anything. Maybe you're just dehydrated. I make sure to get a nice pot full of water for you when we're back in.“ the smile left her face and her eyes widened „Oh your majesty, please no. Really, my bladder is...“ she bit her lip and blushed. I put my hand on her stomach and pushed hard, making her wince and bending over „Oh dear, it's half empty, trust me. Your bladder has a lot of space left.“ I dragged her back inside and kept her even closer, made sure that she drank more and could hear the sound when the cups got filled. As the evening went by, I saw little pearls of sweat on her face and noticed she barely dared to move anymore. Then I decided, it should be enough. I said my good bye and dragged her out of the room „I want you to describe it to me. How full is your bladder, how are you feeling?“ she took small steps „Oh your majesty, my bladder is so full, it feels like bursting any minute. It hurts to hold that much and I will be very happy, when I can finally use the bathroom.“ I smiled at her „Of course my dear. But first you need to help me get ready for bed. You won't let me wait for your personal needs, right?“ she bit her lip again, but shook her head „Of course not your majesty. My duty as your maid comes first.“ I took her hand and forced her to walk faster „Good, but if you walk in that speed, you'll never reach the toilet.“ she whimpered but tried her best to adjust to my pace.
In my room she helped me get out of my dress and into my nightgown. Before she could leave, I took her hand „Wait my dear. This is my dress. We need to take it off.“ I loosened the corsage and she took a deep breathe „Oh that feels so much better your majesty.“ she smiled and I put my arms around her from behind „Really dear? Does your bladder still feels like bursting?“ she looked surprised over her shoulder „It still feels really full your majesty, but it's better than before.“ I smiled and put my hands on her lower abdomen. I could feel her bladder, not really hard, but surely uncomfortably full. I pushed hard and she squeaked surprised, slammed her legs together and bent over „You m-majesty, please.... No, please.... I can't hold it when you push that hard...“ this was what I wanted to hear. I dragged her to the bed and made her lie down. She panted, her legs still pressed together and now blushing too, realising that she was naked „Y-our majesty, what are you planning?“ I smiled „Well, I had fun at the ball, but the fun isn't over yet, dear.“ I took the carafe and filled a glass with water „Drink.“ she hesitated, but when she saw my strict look, she gave in immediately and drank. I made her drink the whole water, saw her stomach swell more and massaged it, so it would make its way into her bladder faster. She didn't try to resist me, just her look became more and more desperate. When I was pretty sure, there wasn't much water left that would move into her bladder, I asked again how her bladder felt. She swallowed, tried to find the right words „Your majesty, it feels like every drop that goes into my bladder, hits it like a brick. It feels like every drop might be too much and I really have to focus to not let go.“ I smiled, this was what I wanted to hear „Then maybe I should help you dear and distract you from your need.“ I forced her legs to open and put my hand in between, one finger pressing on her pee hole „Does this help?“ she looked a bit confused but more relaxed „Yes, your majesty, thank you.“ I smiled and slowly started rubbing her clit with my thumb. She bit her lip, tried to suppress every reaction. But I saw her nipples harden and felt her leak fluids which surely were no pee. I couldn't resist and licked her nipples. She moaned surprised and a shiver ran through her body. I felt how much she clenched her muscles to hold her pee in and took my finger from her pee hole „No! Your majesty, please!“ she grabbed my hand in panic and pressed it again between her legs „This is what you want dear?“ my thumb went from rubbing her clit to her pee hole and pressed against it while my fingers played with the entrance to her body „Well?“ I asked and sucked at her nipple. She moaned in lust, her hands grabbing a pillow. She didn't answer so I thrusted two of my fingers hard into her.“ she nearly screamed as I pushed like this against her overfilled bladder from the inside „Your majesty, please let me pee. I can't take it anymore!“ she was shaking heavily, but I looked strict at her „You can hold it and you will hold it. You will not pee, do you understand?“ she breathed heavily, lust and agony mixed together „I try your majesty, really, I try my best.“ I pushed again against her bladder and she whimpered and squirmed. The more she squirmed, the harder I pushed. I felt her bladder throbbing, could imagine how much she was dying for a piss. I wanted to test her strength, wanted to push her over her limits. I sat next to her, my fingers still deep inside her and massaging her bladder. My other hand softly stroked from her breasts to her stomach, to that meanwhile hard bulge. I started massaging it from the outside now too and she moaned louder in agony and pain. Finally I took my hand away from between her legs and forced her to sit. I sat behind her, while she had both hands between her legs, holding on for dear life „No my dear.“ I took her hands away and pushed with both hands hard against her bladder. The fight was over before it even started. Her tired muscles simply gave up. She screamed as the floodgates opened and she peed long and hard. I kept rubbing her clit while she peed and when her bladder finally was empty, she kept moaning and thrusted her hips against my hand. I made her cum and held her while she found her breathe again „Your majesty?“ she looked at me shyly „Yes, dear?“ she smiled „Your majesty... May I stay your personal maid?“ I looked at her surprised and she turned around and kissed me „Please your majesty. I would love more of such nights.“ I smiled and nodded „Very well, dear. Get the bed clean. As my personal maid, that is your duty too.“ |
Jared broke off, suddenly not speaking. Kyren noticed his big blue eyes were fixed on him, and he flinched like a scared deer, as if wondering if he had said too much already.
“Go on”, Kyren said sharply, trying to be encouraging but betraying his impatience.
“It’s a bit embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry, it’s only me, I’m not going to tell anyone. Anyway that’s what the beer is for, getting drunk and saying embarrassing things.” Then Kyren added, “I probably won’t even remember it in the morning”, which was a complete lie.
“What embarrassing things have you done?”
Kyren started babbling before he realised he had been tricked and the tables had turned. “Oh, well, there was this one time as a teenager I went with the school orchestra to play at a concert at a local leisure centre. After the rehearsal, we had bags of time, and we’d been told we could go swimming in between the rehearsal and the concert if we wanted, if we brought our costumes. Anyway, this leisure centre had two changing rooms, one leading to the swimming pool and one for the sports hall. The sports hall one was where we were meant to change into our smarter clothes for the concert. But being a doofus I mixed them up, and went to the wrong one. So here I was, stripping off and putting on my swimming trunks in the wrong changing room, while my friends stood in shock changing into their dress suits. Then I boldly walked into the showers, which I thought led to the pool, saying “see you later” to my bemused friends and realised I was confronted with a brick wall. There was no way through. So I had to come back to my friends and explain what I was doing in the shower in my swimming trunks. I was mortified.”
Jared snorted into his beer. “That’s hilarious.”
“Yeah it was pretty funny. But it doesn’t get you off the hook, come on. You were about to tell me your embarrassing desperation story.”
Jared sighed, and Kyren noticed his cheeks had gone faintly red. “Fair enough. You remember last term, the college football game against Queen’s Hall, when I was playing in defense?”
“Yes”, Kyren said. Of course he remembered it. How could he not? He didn’t know the first thing about football, or the offside rule, but he remembered staring at Jared’s ass in those tight Blue nylon shorts and his broad thighs above the white socks pulled up to the knees. And he remembered sitting at the front of the stands, cheering loudly whenever Jared got the ball, and how people around him gave him dirty looks because as a defender when Jared was tackling another player it usually meant the opposing team were in danger of scoring. “Go on.”
“Well, the thing is I forgot to go to the loo before we started that game, and had to stay hydrated and drink a lot because it was a really hot day. I figured it would be fine, because I’d just go at half time. But we were really sloppy in the first half, and went 2-nil down, so we had a brutal team talk back in the locker room where the coach laid into us for the entire half time break. Before I knew it was time for the second half, and I was back on the pitch again, and still hadn’t gone.”
As Jared said that, Kyren’s cock twitched slightly, and he felt as excited as if it had been Christmas morning and he was about to open his presents. Okay, he wasn’t a kid anymore, but still hadn’t grown out of those feelings. And the present he was going to get now if he was thinking right…
Jared continued, “The second half was non-stop. Our team had to attack if we were going to stand any chance at all, which meant of course we all pushed up and there were twice as many counter attacks, so we were running non stop. When I was moving I didn’t notice, but in those moments where I stood still, my bladder started screaming at me, and I was clenching all my internal muscles. I genuinely thought I might wet myself, and then wondered if I could pretend to pull a muscle and roll around on the grass, and pee through my short leg. But there was no way I could do that for the length of time I would inevitably need, and no doubt I would end up being found out and end up in a viral youtube video. So I just tried to hold it, occasionally grabbing my crotch and pretending I was just adjusting my shorts. And with the adrenalin of the match I just danced around a lot and pretended it was all intentional. And I thought for some reason everyone was staring at me, even when I didn’t have the ball, and could see I was desperate and shaking.”
“I remember you did bounce around on the spot a lot in the match,” Kyren admitted. “And I thought that all footballers just did that to stay warmed up. But then I think I was the main one staring at you”.
“Really? You were?” said Jared with a smirk, and Kyren realised he had been found out. “I mean, your my friend, of course I was watching you during the game. As a friend would, of course.”
“Whatever you say”. Jared grinned at Kyren, and reached over to give him a friendly shake on the shoulder. It felt nice. “Anyway we were still 2-1 behind, and I was praying that it didn’t go to 2-2 and go to extra time. I wanted it to be 3-2. Hell, I would have settled for losing 2-1 at that stage.”
“But it did go to extra time” Kyren grinned. “I remember - the equaliser came in the last minute of stoppage time. See, I was paying attention.”
“Look at you, learning words like stoppage time”, Jared teased. “Yes, the game went on another half hour. I was shaking so much by the end. My shorts and briefs were dripping in sweat, and sweat was pouring down my leg, and I had this sinking feeling in my stomach, it might be pee. I panicked, and then I felt light headed, and was worried I was going to pass out, but I didn’t.”
“Was it pee?” Kyren asked a bit too eagerly.
Jared laughed. “No, fortunately, because I was still desperate as ever. I thought about leaking a bit, to let the pressure off, but then I realised I would probably not stop and completely soak my shorts if I did that. But then, thankfully our team scored, and I knew I would only have a few minutes to endure, until suddenly that hulking guy Mason from Queen’s Hall charged into me like a rhino and totally floored me. When the shock hit me I felt a blast of pee squirting badly into my shorts and I really thought that was it, but fortunately I managed with all my efforts to clamp it off quickly.”
What a pity, thought Kyren. That would have been a show.
Instead he said, “So how did it end?”
Jared looked uneasy and averted his gaze from Kyren. “It ended with me sprinting off the field as soon as the final whistle was blown, clutching my crotch as soon as I was out of the sight of everyone. Once I was in the changing room, I didn’t even head for the toilets. I just dived into the showers, yanked my shorts and briefs down, and blasted off into the shower drain. It felt like I’d turned on a hosepipe, and felt so good to let go. I must have been going non-stop for a good half minute but it felt amazing. The relief as much as anything, of not having to hold back any more.”
I bet you enjoyed it, thought Kyren. Then he wondered, if Jared enjoyed that so much, perhaps his mission might stand a chance. But that was getting ahead of things.
“Wow”, said Kyren. He wanted to add “that’s hot”, but bit his tongue. “What did your teammates say?”
“Not a great deal. They teased me a bit for my obvious dash to the toilet, but everyone was pretty buzzed we had won the match so that was that really.”
“Cool,” said Kyren. Then he added “Thanks for sharing” and realised he sounded like some sort of group therapist.
They were silent for a moment. Then Kyren noticed those big blue eyes of Jared’s were fixed on him once again. This time he didn’t look afraid. He looked like he was trying to figure Kyren out, in a quizzical but not unkind way.
“You’re acting a bit odd today,” Jared said finally. “Is everything okay?”
Kyren was flustered, and hesitantly opened his mouth and closed it again. The blue eyes seemed to be looking right through him, seeing all, like the eye of Sauron, except these eyes were kind not cruel.
Finally Kyren said, “It’s just.. do you mind if I ask you something?” |
For a moment that seemed to last far too long, there was silence, and Kyren felt uncomfortable. He was reminded of the wetness in his underwear from the beer and piss ritual he had undertaken earlier, and he felt the muscles around his crotch throbbing. Suddenly his urge to go to the loo felt ten times stronger than it had before Jared had told his story. He wanted to grab himself, but that would have made his desperation obvious to his crush, and right this second he wasn’t sure that was the wisest move. He calculated that it he and Jared had got to a very important part of the conversation, and he didn’t want to blow it. Kyren wondered if he could leak a bit into his pants, as a way of easing the tension, but because he was nervous his muscles seem to have locked up completely. Despite his desperation, he doubted if he could have peed if he wanted too right now he was so nervous, even if he was alone and standing in front of a urinal or his toilet upstairs.
Eventually Jared said, “Sure you can. Shoot.”
By that Kyren assumed he meant talk, but there were lots of other liquids he could think of shooting.
He said nervously, “I’ve just been wondering, these last few weeks, why it is you want to hang out with me. I mean, you’re captain of the football team, you’re athletic, you’re devilishly handsome..” (Kyren couldn’t believe he just said that) “you get on with everyone, and you do well enough in your classes to not need help from a nerd like me. You could be spending your time with the popular crowd, and instead you are here in my dorm lounge watching TV with a socially awkward freshman.” (With an omorashi fetish, thought Kyren, though he wasn’t going to admit to that right now).
For another few seconds, there was silence again, as Jared said nothing in reply. Then, in a serious but surprisingly hypnotic voice he said to Kyren, “Look at me.”
Kyren did nothing, then felt a rush of warmth as he felt Jared’s hand brush his cheek.
“Look at me Ky,” Jared said again.
Kyren did look up this time, and noticed that Jared’s face was now just inches away from his. He could sense Jared’s warm breaths, which seemed shorter and more excited. Jared’s lip was quivering slightly, and the deep blue eyes now seemed to convey a new sort of emotion – not simply intensity, or even care, but desire.
“I’m looking”. It was pretty obvious, but Kyren said it anyway.
“I want you to listen carefully”, Jared continued. “You are an amazing guy. You are fun, and considerate, and beautiful, though you don’t realise it yet. I had my eyes on you since the day I saw you looking lost by the college entrance with your oversized suitcases.”
Kyren blushed. “But don’t you think I’m nerdy and a little weird”?
“Of course you are nerdy and a little weird.” Jared smirked, and ruffled Kyren’s hair. “But there is honestly no one I would spend my time with.”
He wants to be with me? Seriously?
Kyren sat on the sofa, rigid in place stunned. His logical brain could not process this. Jared, the literal wet dream of most of the girls (and probably half the guys) on campus had chosen him? Why? There had to be a mistake.
He said cautiously, “Do you mean – you like hanging out with me as a friend.”
Jared snorted. “Come on Kyren, you’re smarter than that. You know exactly what I mean.”
Kyren decided to tease him. “Let’s pretend I’m dumb and don’t.”
“Guess I’ll just have to show you.”
Before he knew what was happening, Jared’s interlocked fingers were at the back of Kyren’s neck and he felt Jared’s wet lips around his mouth and his best friends tongue was in his mouth licking his own. A second later he was horizontal on the sofa, where Jared had pulled him roughly on top of him. Kyren could feel the contours of Jared’s chest through just a couple of flimsly layers of fabric, and their crotches of their jeans rubbed together. Kyren could sense the bulge in Jared’s jeans expanding and his own cock twitched.
Then Kyren’s cock suddenly spasmed, and a jet of pee shot out into his pants for a good second. In the heat of the last few moments, Kyren had completely forgotten about his growing urge to pee and the effect the beer was having on him.
Mortified, he realised that he had not only peed in his underwear and skinny jeans, but that the volume of pee would have wet Jared’s jeans, and even maybe even have soaked through his boxers to Jared’s cock and balls. He clamped off the flow and pulled away from Jared.”
“Shit. I just pissed. I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t really sorry, he was exhilarated, but an apology seemed the appropriate thing to say.
Jared simply laughed, and kissed him on the cheek sweetly. “Don’t sweat it, he said. Beer goes right through me too.”
“I didn’t mean to spoil the moment.”
“Who said it spoiled it.” Jared winked, and he had a look of amusement in his face. Then he added, “but for the sake of the college cleaners and this sofa cover, we should probably get you to a bathroom.”
“Want to come with me?” Kyren asked excitedly.
Jared said nothing, but grasped Kyren’s hand, and led him towards the door. Then, although no-one else was around, he leaned over and whispered in Kyren’s ear.
“Of course.” |
(Warning: Next chapter contains sexy scene)
Kyren did not have an ensuite bathroom, being a first year student, but his room was on a corridor of four or five rooms, with a communal bathroom at the end. The bathroom had a couple of shower and toilet cubicles on one side and sinks on the other. It was unisex, so there were no urinals, but he was on an all male corridor.
As Jared half led, half dragged Kyren by the hand down the corridor, Kyren realised he wasn’t quite walking straight. In addition to being bursting for the loo, he felt a bit drunk - the effect of the Stellas they had been drinking all evening must have been stronger than he thought. He kept stopping to grab himself unashamedly at intervals, and he could tell he was only seconds from a full blown wetting because the muscles in his crotch seemed to be twitching independently, either from excitement or desperation. His whole lower region also felt heavier and slightly numb, a warning sign that the floodgates were about to open. But the prospect of imminent release in the toilet, especially in front of Jared, was and incredible thought, and Kyren felt he had won the lottery.
As they entered the bathroom Kyren made a beeline for the toilet cubicle, but before he realised it, Jared was forcefully steering him into a shower cubicle instead. He stared at Jared in confusion as the older boy drew back the shower curtain, and carried on steering him into the wet part of the shower.
“Well this is unexpected,” Kyren said as Jared’s body sandwiched him to the back wall.
The blue eyes looked back at him intently. Kyren could still see an expression of raw desire, but there was also Jared’s familiar kind concern in them, which made him feel safe. “Are you okay with this?” Jared asked.
“My head is all over the place, I admit. I still don’t know what this is. And I am about to pee my pants. But with you around, I feel okay.”
“Good” said Jared. He was looking Kyren up and down, as if studying every inch of him. Then a mischievous grin came on his face. “I told you I’m someone who likes to be in control. Do you trust me?”.
“Of course”, said Kyren, and he honestly meant it. “I mean, if anyone else had just pushed me against a shower wall when I need the toilet I would have freaked. But with you, it seems perfectly normal.”
“If you feel uneasy or unsafe at any point just tell me,” Jared reassured him. “And remember I am Jared, your friend, who really really likes you. But if you are up for a bit of fun, I have an idea of something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Fun sounds good,” said Kyren, still feeling like he was living in a dreamworld.
“Okay. Then take off your shoes and socks, and your top and t—shirt.”
Kyren obeyed without question, flinging them into the dry part of the shower.
Now raise your hands over your head and close your eyes.
In the darkness, Kyren felt Jared press his wrists against a metal rail, and he realised it was the top rail for the shower curtain. Then he felt a pair of cuffs being fitted around his wrists, and heard the sound of a click. He opened his eyes and looked at Jared in awe.
“What happens now?” Kyren asked innocently, although he felt he already knew the answer.
“Now I can see you more clearly. And feel you”. Jared ran his cold fingers down Kyren’s bare chest, feeling the contours. Then he felt Jared’s hands on the now glaringly obvious wet patch on his jeans, which was now about the size of a grapefruit, with nothing to cover it. Kyren cringed in embarrassment as Jared’s fingers worked to undo his button. He pulled the zipper down, exposing the pale grey boxer briefs, which were soaking with pee and beer.
Jared was examining him now, like a patient or a scientist who had made an intriguing discovery. He squeezed Kyen’s boxers, as if wringing out laundry, causing the wetness to drip onto his hand. Then he brought his hand up to his face. Kyren felt his face flush, even more embarrassed, as Jared teasingly licked the piss of the palm of his hand.
Then an expression of surprise came on Jared’s face.
“They do say beer tastes like piss, but your piss seems to taste remarkably like Stella.”
“Oh year – I spilled some.”
“You spilled some – inside your underpants?” Jared raised his eyebrows. “Kinky boy.” He kissed Kyren on the lips – just a quick peck, but enough to show he wasn’t disapproving. Then he said. “Wait here for a few moments. I need to get something.”
Kyren opened his mouth in horror. “What? You’re going to leave me here like this?” He’d couldn’t imagine feeling more exposed, handcuffed to the shower with wet jeans opened out to show even wetter boxer briefs.
“Relax,” Jared said patting him on the shoulder. “Actually don’t relax. Hold right there. Don’t worry there is no one around. Move your hands up the rail and I’ll pull the shower curtain across, and if anyone else comes in and you are worried, just lean against the shower button on the back wall and it will start up.
Then Jared was gone, and Kyren continued to hold with all his strength. He didn’t want to let go and wet himself completely. Actually, in some ways he did, but weirdly now he wanted to hold until Jared could see him. He squirmed and jostled from foot to foot, more to distract himself than anything, as he didn’t think it was helping a lot.
Before he knew it, Jared was back with… another can of Stella in his hand?
“What?” said Kyren. “You want to drink another beer and watch me squirm?”
He heard the familiar hiss of gas as Jared popped the can open, and felt jealous that the beer got to release sooner than him.
“Nah – I want you to drink this. Down in one.”
“Seriously? If I do that my bladder will explode. I’ll… I’ll” Kyren faltered.
“You’ll what – pee in your pants Ky?” Jared whispered seductively, and Kyren realised in awe that was what Jared wanted to happen.
He gulped. Then he thought, if Jared wants it, I may as well put on a show. “Okay, release one of my hands and pass me that.”
Jared did, and Kyren tipped back his head and poured the pint down his thoat. He flung the can on the ground triumphantly, and was pleased to see that Jared seemed seriously impressed by the display. A second later, he realised his entire bladder felt bloated and numb and he would release everything in less than a minute, if that.
“Now what?” Kyren said hoarsely. “You have about a minute to decide before my bladder bomb goes off. Think fast.”
“I tell you what, said Jared. I’ll do you a deal. You do one more thing for me, and I’ll let you control this.”
Kyren watched as Jared undid the zip of his jeans, exposing black boxers (Kyren was right!) which were bulging out obscenely. Then he took out the prize, a seven inch, uncut, beautiful rock hard cock. Kyren drooled.
“One more thing, and you can jerk this until I cum. Anywhere. On you, in your mouth, on the floor, in my pants even. Whatever you like.”
“It’s a deal. Say it now, say the one thing I know you want me to do.”
Jared smiled, and whispered in that mesmerizing voice. “I want you to let go of your bladder. I want you to wet your pants, completely, utterly, and helplessly.”
Kyren bit his lip, and looked up shyly at the boy of dreams, six foot tall, slicked hair, a golden smile, and an intense expression that made him want to melt. Not to forget a hard cock protruding out of his flies. He stretched his free hand and gripped the shower rail above him, protruded his hips forwards, and then with a sigh he did melt, in his underpants. A days worth of tension, planning, anxiety, excitement and anticipation rushed out of him with a waterfall of relief. The light gray boxers turned faint yellow as pee bubbled through the surface of the fabric, then travelled down his faintly hairy thies to where his thirsty jeans were preparing to contain the rest of the flood. The heat was intense, and Kyren liked hot showers. For a good while the stream continued, dripping out of the legs of his jeans and forming a large yellow infantile puddle which slowly headed towards the drain.
And then it was all over. Kyren felt Jared ruffling his hair, and then Jared gripped Kyren’s hand and transferred it to his cock.
“I think you need to have a bit of a wet patch too”, Kyren said, after jerking Jared a few times. Then he tucked Jared’s cock back in his black boxers, constantly stroking until Jared growned and the boxers were splattered white, inside and out.
Both boys stood in silence.
Then Kyren burst out laughing. “Where do we go from here?”
Jared said, “Actually I have a confession to make. What I said earlier wasn’t the whole truth.”
“Go on.
“I have a bit of a thing for guys who get desperate or wet themselves. It’s not something I can easily talk about.” Kyren watched Jared’s face get redder, and he looked at him intently. “Anyway, I’ve been into this thing – omorashi – for a long time. And when I first saw you, lost at the entrance lodge, with those suitcases – everything I said was true – I wanted to care for you, hold you, be with you and help you in every way. But also you were wearing that green jumper and those white chinos, and for a split second I also had a guilty wish for you to piss yourself, so hard that I would be able to see the colour of your underwear.”
Kyren opened his mouth in shock, but this time no sound came out, he just looked like a goldfish.
Jared continued, “I didn’t want you to be humiliated, or think less of me, but from that day I made a resolution – I would be the best friend you could hope for – may be even a boyfriend too – but I would one day try to get you to wet yourself. In my head, I suppose it – became a sort of mission. The mission. That’s what I jokingly called it.”
Kyren leaned over to kiss him. “Mission accomplished?”
Jared merely nodded, and as the two embraced and kissed, Kyren thought to himself – your mission may be done, but mine isn’t.
END OF PART ONE.
Hope you enjoyed my first omo fiction as much as I enjoyed writing it! Feedback gratefully received so I can improve future stories and let me know also if you'd like me to write a part 2 with Kyren and Jared 🙂 |
PART TWO
Jared’s bladder was screaming.
At least, if bladders could scream, he imagined a high pitched wail right about now. He could feel the twigs crunch as he hopped from foot to foot. The hair on his thighs seemed to bristle with anticipation, producing damp sweat which trickled down his legs, as if charting a course for the very different liquid that would soon be flowing down them. His groin tingled – with what? Nerves? Excitement? Sheer anticipation at what he was about to do? hair stuck to his forehead, a mix of perspiration and hair gel, as it usually did when he ran, but this was different. His face felt hot, from the embers of their dying campfire, but also perhaps with embarrassment at doing something he hadn’t done in a long time…
“Don’t touch yourself. Put your hands on your hips, and strike a pose.” His blond boyfriend’s voice was authoritative, as if he was directing a movie, and Jared knew he would obey without question. Slowly he planted his legs into a comfortable stance, and pushed his shoulders back to look confident. He moved his hands from his groin, where he had unconsciously been gripping himself, and tried to stay still, even though every part of his body was itching to move.
“That’s good,” said Kyren, and Jared could hear the excitement in his voice. “You look so sexy. Imagine you are posing for your student president photo, or better still, modelling a new tracksuit for the football team.”
Jared inwardly cringed. He thought of the photos he had appeared in, school magazines, student council newsletters, hell even the university sports calendar. He thought of the number of girls, and especially boys, that might have gotten off to those pictures. What would they think now?
His crotch felt numb now, and he knew the inevitable would not be long.
“Hurry up!” he shouted to Kyren. “I don’t think I can hold any longer.”
“Hang on,” said Kyren, dashing into the tent and pulling out a flashlight. He directed the beam at Jared’s trousers. In the evening light they now seemed to glow. Jared imagined he was on a stage, in front of the whole school, and the curtains were just lifting…
“Are you ready? I’m serious – I’m about to…”
He broke off, unable to finish the sentence because he knew as soon as he said the words, they would come true.
Kyren grinned broadly, his eyes riveted on Jared. He licked his lips.
Then he said, “SHOWTIME.”
15 hours earlier…
In the light of dawn, with the chirping of birds more audible than car engines, and the squelching of dew beneath his trainers, the cool breeze on his face, and, of course, his gorgeous boyfriend jogging by his side, Jared couldn’t imagine himself happier. It had been two weeks since that exhilarating, crazy TV night, and Jared still thought he would wake up one day and would all have been a dream. But night after night since then he had gone to sleep and woken up with a very real and devilishly cute Kyren in his arms. Now he couldn’t imagine open his eyes of a morning without seeing that mop of dishevelled blond hair in front of him.
He could hear his boyfriend beside him panting for breath. “Slow down Jay”.
“Sorry baby, I was in the zone.” He slacked off the pace. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah. Just never thought dating you was going to be like bootcamp.”
Jared reached at and placed his hands on the back of Kyren’s shoulders, pretending to push him along. “Just got to keep my boyfriend in shape.”
My boyfriend. God that felt good.
“I’m not meant to be kept in shape. You’re the jock, I’m the nerdy one remember. The short scruffy guy with the weedy body.”
“Oi!” said Jared crossly. “No putting yourself down. You have a great body. And an angelic face.” He thought back to that morning, how content Kyren had looked, spreadeagled on the bed in just his boxers, the simple white sheet thrown off because of the hot temperature of the room – and the expression of utter contentment on his face as he dreamed about… God, he wished he knew what.
“Do you know what most boyfriends do fist thing in the morning?” Kyren said. “I bet you do.”
“Take a piss and make a cup of coffee?”
“No,” Kyren teased. He grabbed Jared’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “Most guys have a boner in the morning. So they start with a wakeup kiss..” He delicately kissed Jared. “Then, they grab each other’s pants and pull them down..”
With a swift movement, Kyren grabbed Jared’s green nylon running shorts and tugged them down, exposing a pair of black sports briefs below.
“Jeez Ky – we’re in public!” Jared hurried to pull them back up. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”
“No fair,” whined Kyren. “There’s no-one much around except for a few dog walkers.”
“Exactly. A few dog walkers. I am not that exhibitionist.”
“Anyway,” Kyren continued, “The point I am making is, most guys drag their boyfriends into bed and take off their shorts. Whereas you insist on waking me, dragging me out of bed and into my running shorts, then out of the building and half way across the downs before I’ve even had a chance for a morning shower or a piss.”
“Aw, you didn’t take a piss.” Jared looked mischievously at Kyren, who was wearing a white top, red nylon running shorts, white socks and trainers. He poked Kyren in the ribs who flinched.
“You need a piss now?” Jared teased.
“What? Yes, kind of. I was going to go when we got back from the run. Hoping the run would take my mind off it.
He grabbed his boyfriend by the waist and pulled him close. “Are you gonna piss your shorts?” he teased. “Bet you want to. I bet you’re already leaking a little bit into your undies just thinking about it.”
Kyren blushed, his round pink face offsetting the blond curls nicely. “I don’t really need to go that desperately. I can easily wait until we get back.”
“It’s not about desperation, it’s about convenience. We’re out running, on grass, in the early morning – so no-one would notice.”
“Yes but I’m going to be sitting in your car seat most of the day.”
“Not in those shorts. As soon as we get back in we are having a shower and you can rinse them and throw them in the wash if you want.” Jared tried to be as persuasive as possible, and also tried to hide his growing hardon. In his mind he was already picturing it – the hissing noise, red shorts darkening and glistening, and then a steady stream drips of pee falling symmetrically out of each leg of Kyren’s shorts.
Kyren, however, was unconvinved. He stood in silence for a moment, then looked at Jared as if calculating something. Then he said, “Have you ever done it? When running? Wet your shorts? The internet says it is a thing some marathon runners do, to shave off thirty seconds or so.” Now Jared could tell Kyren was getting excited, especially in the crotch area.
Jared laughed. “Actually, they have a tonne of portaloos at the start of the race and I am not an elite runner. So no. But there was one race I leaked a bit, and had to go off the beaten track at the side. It was kind of embarrassing actually.”
Kyren looked at Jared and kissed him again. “You are a real dom, you know, he teased. You want me to wet myself, but not you yourself.”
Kyren had a point, Jared thought. He got the hots for seeing his boyfriend lose control, but the thought of the tables being turned and Jared pissing himself still scared him. Even in front of Kyren. he still remembered that fateful day at school as a twelve year old – the humiliation of the teacher, and that mocking name that the bullies had called Jared throughout high school – the golden boy. And he had worked so hard to overcome that, so that when he was at college he wouldn’t be the loser. He would be the most successful, the most popular, the student president, the football captain. He didn’t want the world to see him as a weakling who had peed his pants and got off from others doing it. He wanted the world to see him win – to win at everything…
“Definitely a dom,” Kyren said again. “But I tell you what, I’ll do you a deal. I’ll wet my running shorts now under one condition. You have to hold for the rest of the day, until you end up wetting your pants in front of me.”
Jared looked at Kyren. His rational brain told him he couldn’t. Too much training, too many past memories would make this a bad idea. But his lust took over as I saw his beautiful boyfriend smiling back at him.
“Deal,” he said finally.
Then he watched as the red shorts darkened. Kyren was pissing himself, and he was standing as casually as if they had been talking about the weather. Then he shook his shorts, and both his legs, and shot off in a run.
This time Jared had to do the catching up. |
Four hours later, things were getting urgent for Jared. They had stopped at a service station one hour ago, as requested by Kyren, who had taken a devilish pleasure in buying Jared a large cappuccino and asking him to reserve their table while he went off to the toilet. In Kyren’s absence, Jared had cheated, pouring half the drink into a nearby pot plant when no-one was looking. At first he felt guilty he might have killed the plant with the hot liquid. Then he realised it was an artificial plant, which he wasn’t sure was better or worse. It had been a calculated move, as Jared reckoned if he consumed less than 500ml of liquid before they got to the lakeside he might at least spare his car seat. Kyren had returned, visibly buoyant and refreshed after his release. Jared wanted to feel jealous, but seeing his boyfriend looking so cheerful and excited in that adorable blue hoodie, all he could really feel was pleased. At least, until Kyren started the teasing about how relieved he felt, and how the piss he had was one of the best of his life, and then he had squeezed Jared round the waist tightly and said how happy he was, all the while digging into Jared’s bladder.
At least now Kyren seemed distracted, listening to music on his Bluetooth headphones, and not talking about waterfalls. Jared did say Kyren could play music through the system but the blonde boy was embarrassed that the classic Katy Perry and Ariane Grande mix he was enjoying wouldn’t be street enough for the older boy’s taste.
Jared had other things to worry about though than music though. He was seriously starting to worry about the state of his leather car seat, and how to clean it in the event he did have a genuine wetting accident. He had heard that certain pet products might work to get the smell out of the seat. Or vinegar and baking soda – that might leave stains but it was supposed to get rid of the smell, even if it left your car smelling like a chip shop for a week or so.
The traffic was at a complete standstill right now. Jared reckoned they had about another forty five minutes of travel to go if the traffic was to flow freely before they would get to the campsite. Unfortunately his bladder was seeming to want to move more freely and he wasn’t as confident that it had an hour left. When he had been driving it was a bit easier to ignore the ache of needing the loo, but at a standstill there was basically nothing to distract him. Surely he could hold it. He had heard of people holding for more than 10 hours, and it had been what – 5 hours so far for him?
He felt a twitch in his groin, and for a split second wondered if he had leaked. Suddenly paranoid he might have leaked, he pulled out the waistband of his blue sweatpants and tried to sneak a glance at his boxer briefs hoping Kyren didn’t notice. For some insane reason Jared had put on a pair of white Calvins, which was a very poor choice of his given he knew of Kyren’s intention to see him piss in them. Jared was beginning to regret his stupid decision to agree to Kyren’s request, just because he himself had lusted after seeing his boyfriend soak his running shorts that morning. Karma was a bitch.
Jared wrestled with the thought of putting down a towel on his car seat, to protect the seat. He had one in his suitcase in the boot, and now was the time to get it out while the traffic was stationary, although that would mean an admission to Kyren of how desperate he was. He weighed up the idea for a few moments, when suddenly Kyren started singing.
“I’m gonna go out, I’m gonna let myself get, absolutely soaking wet…”
Shit! A squirt of pee shot out of Jared into his boxers. Why did Kyren have to have Geri Halliwell (or was it the Weather Girls) on his track list? Maybe it was deliberate. What would come up next, Rihanna’s Umbrella? There was nothing for it. He had to get the towel.
To Kyren’s bewilderment, Jared opened the car door, bracing himself for the drop in temperature. His bladder screamed at the sudden change in position, and Jared drew his legs together and waddled to the back of the car. He retrieved the towel, then carefully laid it out on his car seat as if he was reserving a sunlounger, before sitting back down.
Next to him, Kyren smirked and took of his headphones. “Getting desperate huh?” he said, as if it wasn’t plainly obvious.
“Shut up.”
“Rude,” teased Kyren. “I was just making conversation. Let’s change the subject. What’s the campsite like? You’ve been there lots with your family.”
“It’s great. It’s more of a forest than a campsite. We can pitch up there and there won’t be anyone else to disturb us for a long way around, and we will be able to light a fire, so long as we are careful. And the lake is spectacular. I can’t wait to go swimming in it.”
“Ooh I’m looking forward to the lake. Will it be all wet and full of water?”
Jared glared. “Of course it will, it’s a lake, what do you expect?”
“Will it be even wetter than you?” said Kyren grinning.
Jared wasn’t going to dignify that question with a response. |
By some miracle, when they arrived at the campsite an hour later, Jared still had comparatively dry pants. He had leaked a couple of times into his Calvins, and they would probably be a little bit stained yellow when he came to wash them, and he noticed a small wet patch on his sweatpants about the size of a tennis ball, but it hadn’t been a full blown soaking.
He drove down a deserted track and parked the car in a sheltered part of the forest overlooking the lake shore. There was no one else around. How his parents had found this remote undiscovered part of the world Jared had no idea, but literally no-one else seemed to know about it. Kyren and he set up the tent relatively quickly, though Jared’s desperation meant he was now hopping and fumbled the poles a couple of times, much to Kyren’s amusement. His boyfriend kept grabbing his crotch in mock desperation, and joking if there were any streams or waterfalls in the area.
Jared knew he couldn’t make it much longer, and was going to pee himself soon. He couldn’t stand still and barely had control of any of his limbs, and his brain seemed to be going to mush also. As the hours had gone on, he became more and more afraid of having an accident in front of Kyren. It was irrational – he’d seen Kyren wet twice after all, but he still could not shake that ingrained notion that he, the student president and football captain, could not be seen to be wetting his pants by a freshman.
Then Jared came up with the perfect solution. The Lake. It was the obvious way out of his promise to Kyren.
As soon as the tent was set up, Jared started to strip without warning. His boyfriend looked at him intently, staring hard at every inch of flesh as it was revealed. Kyren’s eyebrows were raised, but he certainly wasn’t complaining, and he didn’t complain either when Jared donned a pair of tight white speedos which accentuated his bulge.
“Race you to the lake,” he said, grabbing a towel.
He teased Kyren as the blue hoodie was flung off in haste, and Kyren nearly tripped getting out of his sweatpants. As soon as Kyren had put on a pair of sea green swim shorts, he dashed to the lakeside, flinging his shoes off at the rocks and rushing headlong into the cool water.
As soon as the icy water covered his trunks, before Jared even had a chance to get his shoulders underwater, his bladder jolted as if someone had punched him. Jared’s facial muscles made all kinds of expressions as he tried to force his bladder to hold on, but then a mischievous voice in his head said, Do it now. Let it all go.
Kyren was splashing towards him, a youthful excitement on his face. “This place is amazing! I can’t believe how you found it. The trees, the stillness, the breeze, the sunlight on the lake – it’s like being on a honeymoon. I mean – if you and I ever went on one – not that I’m saying – okay now I’m babbling”.
Jared held Kyren close and kissed him. For a moment everything was perfect. Then he whispered, “remember what we agreed this morning?”
“Of course I do. I can’t wait to see you pee yourself.”
It was time. Jared knew Kyren would hate him for it, but it was the only way.
“Well, I’m afraid you are not going to see it.”
“What??? You promised.”
“I promised I would hold it as long as I could and then I would wet myself in front of you. Which I am going to do now, in the lake.”
As soon as he said the words, Jared felt the heat in his speedos as he blasted his piss full force into them. A days worth of coffee, holding, anxiety about wetting was released in a moment. Then he felt the warm water caressing his legs and he felt goosebumps all over. The sensation of utter relief he felt at being completely empty and now not needing to go at all with no toilet in sight – god he had missed that sensation. That had been what had started off everything – peeing in the sea as a twelve year old – and now he was doing it again nearly ten years later. God he had missed that sensation, that first action – that one event that had made him the golden boy.
He smiled at Kyren. “Did you enjoy that?”
Silence.
Kyren looked – upset? He wasn’t smiling. He was – disappointed?
“You cheated.” Kyren said. “I thought I would get to see you wet your pants properly, you know, like I did. So I could see the stain spread and everything. You should have warned me. At least we could have peed together.”
Jared was confused. “I thought you’d enjoy it?”
“But you didn’t warn me,” said Kyren. “And peeing in the lake – is insanely hot – but it’s cheating.”
It was true, Jared had tricked Kyren. He had been too scared. This was the perfect moment – that Kyren had waited for, and he had ruined it for him. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Kyren kissed him. “It’s okay, we have plenty of time, and lots of beer. I tell you what, I’ll ply you with beer this evening and you can pee yourself again at sunset. That would be so hot.”
Jared said uncertainly, “I don’t know if I want to in front of you. I mean, I am the student president after all. I have my dignity.”
Shit. Why had he said that, to Kyren, of all people?
Kyren’s mouth fell open. He looked as if Jared had slapped him in the face. He looked hurt – confused – angry – abandoned. “What??? What did you just say?”
To his horror, Jared realised he had made a huge mistake. Kyren pushed him firmly away and he fell back in the water.
“I can’t believe you!” Kyren shouted. “You’re such a hypocrite. Is this just a game to you?”
Jared didn’t know what to say. |
Jared was furious with himself. How could he have messed up so badly? It had been the perfect moment in the lake, close to the person he most loved – yes he really did love Kyren – and he’d ruined it with pride, and a stupid trick. He’d been too afraid to be vulnerable before his boyfriend, too scared to grant Kyren his one wish to fulfil his fantasy, and then he’d opened his stupid mouth about blurted out something about “dignity” and made the most beautiful boy in the world feel small and inferior. What an idiot.
Kyren was storming off, splashing out of the lake in the direction of the forest. Jared half swam, half waded as fast as he could to catch up with him.
“Wait! I’m sorry! Where are you going?”
As Kyren glanced back at Jared, his blue eyes were red and glistened with tears. He looked so small, so vulnerable in his sea green swimming shorts, and Jared felt awful. “Leave me alone,” Kyren said sharply.
Jared just wanted to sweep Kyren into his arms and give him an enormous hug, but Kyren was marching away as fast as he could. “Please - sorry – please wait.”
“Leave me alone,” Kyren said firmly. “I’m going to get firewood. Go back to the campsite.”
“But you’ll get cold,” Jared pleaded. “You are dripping. Please talk to me.”
“Just – give me some space alright. I won’t be long – just – go back to the tent.”
Reluctantly, Jared did.
When he got back to the tent, it was painfully quiet. Just a faint rustle of breeze, and only one bird noise – a jackdaw, he thought, making a racket and having scared off all the more tuneful song birds. A small pile of twigs showed where Kyren had been carefully setting up the campfire. Jared stripped and towelled off, then lay back naked in the tent. Kyren’s ridiculous suitcase was open in the corner taking up about a quarter of the tent space. He really had packed everything, including it seemed a lot of underpants of all colours. Jared spotted several green and blue boxers, white and black briefs and – to his shock – a skimpy pair of yellow aussiBum briefs. Blimey, thought Jared, that boy is full of surprises.
They could be fun, Jared thought, except that the owner of the said aussieBums was currently not speaking to him and was wandering the forest in his swimming trunks. He did hope Kyren wouldn’t be long. He pulled on of Emporio Armani blue trunks and beige khaki pants, a black T-shirt and his university football team sweatshirt. He laid back on his sleeping mat and tried to close his eyes, but when he did, all he could picture was a 19 year old boy with blond curly hair and a sea green swimming trunks being attacked by a large black bear.
After several minutes (which felt like hours) had passed, Jared heard the crackle of twigs underfoot, and below the tent flap could see a familiar pair of feet in flip flops moving to lay the camp fire. Tentatively, he stepped out of the tent. “I’m sorry Ky. What I said was really, really wrong.”
Kyren turned to face him, but kept his distance. “You really hurt me. I mean okay, peeing in the sea without telling me was one thing, and if you are embarrassed to wet yourself in front of me I guess that’s okay too, but when you talked about your self of dignity how do you think it made me feel?”
“Pretty crap?”
“Worse than that,” said Kyren, the hurt evident in his voice. “I felt used. Like some kind of toy you just wanted to get off too. It felt like you just wanted me to pee myself repeatedly but would never lower yourself to the same level. As if I was just like one of those sex dolls – you know the ones – where you just fill them up with water until they piss themselves.”
“Ky, I’m pretty sure they don’t make sex dolls like that,” Jared teased, and for a second Kyren laughed, but it was short lived.
“Baby I don’t feel like that at all. You are the most precious thing in the world to me. I got scared, that was all.”
“Why did you say all that shit then – about dignity or whatever? It just made me feel so small.”
Jared looked at Kyren imploringly. “You don’t understand. Please let me explain. I can’t bear to see you upset with me.”
Kyren’s face softened, but he stayed standing apart from Jared. “Fine. But this better be good.”
“Okay. Well the thing is – the reason I didn’t want to wet myself in front of you – it isn’t to do with you at all, it is more my problem. It’s to do with something that happened to me when I was thirteen at school.”
“Did you get bullied?” Kyren asked, his protective instincts showing on his face again. “I hope no one hurt you.”
“Yes – but that isn’t quite the whole thing. Actually it started at the beach in the Summer Break. I was on holiday with my family and my best friend Carl’s family. It was a really hot day, and the beach was so crowded, and it was one of these really long beaches, and dad insisted we walk walk for ages to a quieter part of the beach where we could play cricket without disturbing anyone. When we finally found a spot it was an age away from the car park where the toilet blocks were, and I started to need a pee. So my mum said either she would go with me back to the toilets, which would take about 20 minutes, or she whispered to me that I could just pee in the sea and no-one would know. I was a bit confused by this and asked, do you mean pull down my trunks underwater? No, said my mum, that would be exposing myself and I could be in trouble if someone caught me (not that there was anyone around). Then my mum said I could just pee in my trunks in the sea, it was all water and it would mix with the huge volume of water passing in and out of my trunks every second, so no one would ever know.”
Jared could see Kyren’s lip quivering as it did when he was excited. He knew Kyren enjoyed his stories, especially when they involved desperation and wetting.
“Anyway, I found the whole idea of this so exciting, being actually given permission to wet myself. I felt my body tingling at the prospect of being given permission to do something so forbidden. I rushed out into the ocean, just getting out far enough so my trunks were above the water but the crashing waves would drench my crotch. It felt awesome, the sensation of the cold water every few seconds pulsing into my swimming trunks and filling them with sea water, and then feeling the sea water drip down my thighs into the sea. I was getting ready to pee myself, but it took a while to pluck up the courage of actually doing this in my trunks, so I decided to count the waves down from 10 to 1, and then I would pee myself. I was physically shaking by the time the last 3 waves, then when the last one crashed, I pushed the pee out of my bladder with all the force I could. It shot out of me, and was so warm, like I was swimming in some geyser, and once I started I couldn’t stop. I just basked in the warmth, my toes curling into the sand, until it finished, and it was amazing.”
He looked at Kyren, whose face was going that tell-tale pink shade again. Then he said, “This is incredibly hot, but I have to ask, what on earth does it have to do with your school and not wanting to wet in front of me?”
“Oh, right. Well the next bit is the embarrassing part,” he mumbled. Kyren stepped forwards, and rested his hand on his shoulder. At least he’s not completely mad at me now, thought Jared. “The thing is, I couldn’t stop thinking about that experience of wetting in the sea. And then when I went back to school, we had a PE lesson where we had to do cross country running in a storm. It was a flash flood and we got drenched, but the teachers were hardcore so we didn’t get a let off, and I really needed a pee. Afterwards, we dived in the showers, and I had this idea that I would just jump in the shower in my shorts, which were wet anyway, and pee myself, then blast the hot water. I thought I would get away with it. It would just be like peeing in the sea, and no-one else would notice.”
“Except they did?” suggested Kyren.
“Exactly. Three other guys, to be precise, saw me wet my pants mid stream, and realised I hadn’t turned the shower on. They pushed me against the wall as I peed, and I was genuinely scared now, and just flooded myself. Then they said “Jared’s a pantswetting baby, look,” and everyone laughed. And some wisecrack said, “ooh, he’s into golden showers, not such a big boy, more of a golden boy.”
Kyren’s hand was still on Jared’s shoulder, comforting him. “You okay?” He asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine, I need to say this. Well after that, I was called goldenboy by the bullies every chance they got. It was mortifying, and they would hold their noses whenever I went past. But I remembered what my dad had once said about bullies, which was “prove the bastards wrong. Show them you’re a winner, and they are the losers. If they call you a nasty name, own it and turn that name around.”
“So.. you became a real golden boy? The star pupil.”
Jared stood up proudly. “What I did was I proved those idiots wrong. I decided I wasn’t going to be known as a pantswetter, I was going to be the winner at everything. None of those suckers were ever going to get a prize or trophy again. I took up running four days a week, and started training at the gym three times a week so I would become the school’s star footballer. I threw myself into studies so I would get the best grades in the glass. And I ran for class president and won over the whole school with bribes and charm. I was the king then, and those bullies were nothing. Hell, I wanted to see them piss themselves. Then I went to college and never looked back, and left behind that boy who wet himself in the shower… except for one tiny thing…”
He broke off, and looked at Kyren, his faced flushed.
“Except what?” teased Kyren.
“Except a tiny, tiny part of me still wanted that rush, that I’d got wetting my pants. And I wondered if any one else felt the same thing, at got the same thrill, of peeing in the sea, or their shorts in the rain, or wishing their favourite celebrity would have an accident. I locked it away inside, thinking that no-one would ever be as freakish as me in wanting that. I was always going to be the golden boy, deep down.
“So what happened next?” Kyren rested his hand on his chin, looking thoughtful. “What changed?”
Jared turned to Kyren and kissed him. “I met you of course.” Thankfully, Kyren leaned into the kiss, then wrapped his arms around his boyfriend in a big hug. |
Kyren prodded the campfire with a stick. Jared was impressed with his camping skills, and despite mocking his boyfriend for his oversized suitcase, he did look like he knew what he was doing. They had, it seemed, survived their first argument, and all seemed well, but Jared did get the sense Kyren had some unfinished business.
After a while, Kyren came over and prodded Jared in the ribs. “I still think you are a snob. You think it is okay to watch me pee my pants like some lowly minion in your kingdom, but you won’t do it yourself. In spite of your traumatic childhood pantswetting drama, do you really think that’s fair?”
Jared sighed. “I suppose not. And I don’t see you as a lowly minion. It’s just I worked so hard to put the boy with the wetting fetish behind me in order to become popular and successful.”
“I call bullshit,” said Kyren. “You’re a snob. You get off on seeing the quiet, nerdy, anxious kid peeing himself. But you won’t do it. No, not Mr student President.”
Jared rustled Kyren’s blond hair. “Baby you are neither quiet nor anxious. Nerdy, perhaps. But maybe you are right. Football captains and student presidents don’t pee their pants.”
“Why the hell not?” demanded Kyren. “They do in my fantasy world. In my world football stars pee their pants in the changing room after they have won the world cup. Student presidents pee themselves giving graduation speeches. Film stars pee their pants at the Oscars. Tom Daley pees his speedos of the diving board. Zac Efron pees his pants just for the sheer hell of it.”
Jared nearly choked on his beer with laughter. “Your world is very vivid.”
“Course it is. My imagination has been planning it out since I hit puberty, at least. The point is, there is no reason why pissing yourself should be a joy denied to the rich and famous. If more wannabe prime ministers and laywers and film stars and generally uptight people like you pissed their pants regularly the world would be a much more chilled out place.”
“I like your theory.”
“Then prove it”, said Kyren determinedly. “I will give you a second chance. You are going to down that beer, and another couple, and then hold while we eat and watch the sunset, and then you are going to romantically pee yourself for my delight.”
Jared sighed, and eventually nodded. The boy was determined, he would give him that.
----
Having resolved to pee himself, Jared felt surprisingly liberated, as if a huge weight had lifted from him. This was rather unexpected. Yes, he was nervous as hell, as part of him still expected that when he did it the school bullies of old would jump out from behind the trees and catch him in the act. Or worse still, maybe when he did it Kyren would morph into them like in a sci-fi movie, or pull of his face to show it was just a mask like one the Mission Impossible films. He was being ridiculous, he knew. They were alone, just he and Kyren. There was no faking that expression of delight and sheer joy of being with him that had seen in Kyren’s face that day, and despite having their first argument, they had got through it.
The sun was red in the sky now, and he sat by Kyren on a log overlooking the lake. The dying light was scattered by the tree branches. He gazed at Kyren, the flecks of light falling on his brow and cheek. He watched as a breeze gently played with the boy’s blond curls, which had been completely disarranged from any semblance of hairstyle after the dip in the lake.
Jared felt the warmth of Kyren’s hand interlaced with his, and felt safer and more secure than he had ever felt before. Being around Kyren made feel both serene and intensely excited at the same time. There was no anxiety or tension with Kyren around, at least not now they had made up again. He felt he didn’t have to put on a show with Kyren to impress him. He could be himself – he could do whatever he wanted and he somehow wouldn’t feel judged, or embarrassed. Okay – maybe a little embarrassed at peeing himself. Years of reinforcement that this was a humiliating, taboo thing to do wasn’t going to change that. But Kyren wasn’t going to be disgusted or freaked by Jared emptying his bladder into his khakis. Hell, he was going to turn his boyfriend on by doing it, and a man couldn’t really wish for anything more exciting than that.
He twitched suddenly, an involuntary spasm in his crotch reminding him that he would be fulfilling his boyfriends wish very soon. It had been Kyren’s request that he tried to hold it in until the sun set, to prolong his desperation, but he was going to wet before the light faded entirely, so that the wetting would be clearly visible. Over dinner (sausage and pasta, which Kyren had skilfully over the campfire handling pots and pans like a survival expert) he had drunk three cans of beer alternated with two large bottles of water. The water, Kyren insisted, was because he didn’t want Jared to get drunk. Jared said that he was used to drinking and had no trouble holding his beer usually. He was less confident of holding his piss in with the volume of water though.
Jared was still dressed in his football team sweater, cream khakis (which would not be cream coloured for that much longer) and he was wearing the blue Emporio Armani boxer briefs. He had taken off his socks and trainers, and would be wetting in flip flops, which he wore into the lake anyway, so they would wash off. He had been a little apprehensive about keeping on the designer underwear, wondering whether to wear a cheaper pair, but they would wash in the lake. He had already leaked a little bit of pee into the briefs in his desperation, so it was too late to be thinking about that now anyway. He could feel moisture around his private parts, and couldn’t honestly tell if it was piss or sweat.
What’s more, he didn’t want to disappoint Kyren again. Kyren was very specific about him wearing clothing that he would normally wear at college, to be fashionable, and confident. Kyren told him he had thought this through very carefully and insisted that Jared keep on the football sweatshirt. He wanted it to be Jared the football captain, Jared the popular student president who wet himself, not Jared having a lazy day in his PJs. Jared was excited by that thought too – it was almost like a role play. Growing up he had always thought of wetting as shameful and childish, but he was going to wet himself with a certain pride. Of course, there would be embarrassment and humiliation in the heat of the moment - that was a key part of the attraction for him and Kyren – but he was going to make pantswetting damn sexy while he did it.
----
“One more,” Kyren said, passing him a can of beer. “Down it in one.”
They were back by the campfire, which was now barely alight, but the embers seemed to give out a lot of warmth. The urge to pee had come quickly upon Jared, and he couldn’t now stand still. If he had been at a 8 out of 10 desperation level before, he now had to be at 9.5. It was not a question of “if” so much as “when” he would soak himself, and he wouldn’t bet on lasting longer than another ten minutes. His brain was going to mush, an his nerves were now all over the place – excitement, embarrassment, anxiety – and an enormous rush of adrenaline.
“Are you sure?” Jared pleaded. “You didn’t want me to get too drunk.”
“You won’t get drunk on this, you’re the football captain,” said Kyren dismissively. As if that granted him immunity to the effects of alcohol through sheer force of masculinity.
Jared was already bent double and periodically grabbing his crotch, but he took his hands away to open the new can Jared was handing him.
“Cheers,” he said, raising the can and cracking it open like they were celebrating something. Which they were. “To us.”
Kyren grinned broadly.
-----
Jared’s bladder was screaming.
At least, if bladders could scream, he imagined a high-pitched wail right about now. He could feel the twigs crunch as he hopped from foot to foot. The hair on his thighs seemed to bristle with anticipation, producing damp sweat which trickled down his legs, as if charting a course for the quite different liquid that would soon be flowing down them. His groin tingled – with what? Nerves? Excitement? Sheer anticipation at what he was about to do? hair stuck to his forehead, a mix of perspiration and hair gel, as it usually did when he ran, but this was different. His face felt hot, from the embers of their dying campfire, but also perhaps with embarrassment at doing something he hadn’t done in a long time…
“Don’t touch yourself. Put your hands on your hips and strike a pose.” His blond boyfriend’s voice was authoritative, as if he was directing a movie, and Jared knew he would obey without question. Slowly he planted his legs into a comfortable stance and pushed his shoulders back to look confident. He moved his hands from his groin, where he had unconsciously been gripping himself, and tried to stay still, even though every part of his body was itching to move.
“That’s good,” said Kyren, and Jared could hear the excitement in his voice. “You look so sexy. Imagine you are posing for your student president photo, or better still, modelling a new tracksuit for the football team.”
Jared inwardly cringed. He thought of the photos he had appeared in, school magazines, student council newsletters, hell even the university sports calendar. He thought of the number of girls, and especially boys, that might have gotten off to those pictures. What would they think now?
His crotch felt numb now, and he knew the inevitable would not be long.
“Hurry up!” he shouted to Kyren. “I don’t think I can hold any longer.”
“Hang on,” said Kyren, dashing into the tent and pulling out a flashlight. He directed the beam at Jared’s trousers. In the evening light they now seemed to glow. Jared imagined he was on a stage, in front of the whole school, and the curtains were just lifting…
“Are you ready? I’m serious – I’m about to…”
He broke off, unable to finish the sentence because he knew as soon as he said the words, they would come true.
Kyren grinned broadly, his eyes riveted on Jared. He licked his lips.
Then he said, “SHOWTIME.” |
The moment had come, a moment which in Jared’s mind had been a decade in the making. He thought back on that first thrill of first peeing in the see as a teenager, the humiliation in the locker room schools showers, and the years of resistance in his mind where he had fought to push out of his mind any idea that he might actually enjoy desperation and peeing. Combined with a heavy dose of society norms and taboos, a rushing sense of embarrassment, then, excitement, then embarrassment at feeling excitement – Jared’s brain was in meltdown. He thought he might have stage fright, and not be able to go at all, even though he was ready to burst.
Then a comically ridiculous song popped into his head. Let it go, let it go… Not sure Disney had in mind what he was thinking. He tried to imagine himself in front of a urinal, undoing the years of training in his head. But he was clothed. Then he imagined himself in the lake, in his speedos. He was clothed then, but had managed to pee.
It felt like the pee was in the tip of his penis. So Jared pushed, deliberately, with all the muscles he had down there.
Immediately, a warm spray of piss shot into his Armani briefs. He could feel it around his cock and balls, and he didn’t dare look down. After a two second spurt, panic set in, and he pinched off the flow. His legs were fixed in place, but he could feel them quivering like jelly. His face was sweating, and he imagined he must have turned purple.
He looked up across to Kyren, as if for approval. Kyren was wearing the blue hoodie and gray sweats again, and he had his hand in his pants on what looked like a rock hard bulge. My God, Kyren was getting off on this.
Kyren started back at him intently, and licked his lips. “Go on,” he said seductively. “Pee your pants mister president.”
That did it. It was almost as if his boyfriend had hypnotised him, for as soon as the words were said, Jared started pissing, full force, into his Armani underwear. It felt like he had just put the shower head down his trousers, the liquid was so warm. He watched his cream khakis darken to a shade of brown, as if someone was painting them, and he felt the hot pee dripping down his legs, gluing his wet trousers to the skin. He had even managed to get some pee on the bottom of his football sweatshirt, which was pulled down slightly, and the tshirt which was tucked into his pants. Then he saw some liquid bubbling from his Khaki crotch. He was not just pissing his pants but pissing through them. His bare feet too were getting wet as pee seeped out of the bottom of the khakis, and before long he was standing in a puddle.
It went on, and on, for forty seconds or so, when Jared could do nothing, and it felt incredible. Jared knew about peegasms – that sense of orgasmic relief when letting go after hours of desperation. But this intensity seemed to last on and on, for the full forty seconds. When he felt it was tapering, Jared pushed his bladder muscles harder and harder, determined to prolong the moment until he was completely empty.
Then it stopped, and he stood, mesmerized, total relief from a completely empty bladder, and absolutely soaking.
“Wow,” said Kyren breathily. “I just came in my pants.”
Jared laughed. “Glad everything was to your satisfaction this time.”
He shook his leg, and was about to move, when Kyren said suddenly, “Stop. Don’t move. I want to take a photo.”
“What for?” said Jared, stunned.
“The college magazine of course. Or the Year Book committee. They’d pay me a fortune. Hell, this will triple their circulation.”
“You can’t!” cried Jared in horror. “You wouldn’t!”
Kyren grinned. “Relax, I’m only teasing you. You are way too easy.”
“You are going to get it later.”
“Don’t worry, these are just for my personal collection.” The camera flashed a few times as Kyren moved like a paparazzi, and then Jared got into the spirit of it and threw some of his signature poses. Kyren continued, “After all, my mum always says I never take enough holiday photos. She wants some for the family album.”
Jared opened his mouth in horror, but Kyren said, “got you again.”
“No, I’ve got you.” Jared charged forwards, and grabbing Kyren by the waist whisked him high into the air, camera and all. The blonde boy didn’t seem to mind at all that his boyfriend was still soaked in piss.
“I have a confession to make,” Kyren said, after Jared had finally set him down. “I’ve been wanting to get you to myself for ages, but also I had a mission, exactly the same as yours, to get you to pee yourself. You always seem a bit too uptight, so formal, and there is nothing quite like peeing your pants to relieve tension. I planned this mission, so to speak, a few weeks ago. I didn’t want you to be humiliated in front of anyone, just me and you.”
Jared was speechless. “You mean, you and I had the same idea? We both secretly wanted each other to get desperate and wet their pants? What are the odds of that!”
“Pretty small, I guess.”
“Not just small,” Jared said. “Tiny. That kind of co-incidence – or destiny – it just doesn’t happen in real life.”
Kyen hugged him tightly, and looked at Jared with a twinkle in those blue eyes. “Maybe not in real life. But it does happen in my dreams.”
THE END OF PART TWO
Thank you for following this story! I hope some of you enjoyed my first omo fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Kyren and Jared may return in future stories when I get more ideas, and I have plans for some other omo fic also. |
The rain started slowly, as a gentle patter on the side of the tent. But after a while it sounded as if someone was outside making rain noises by pouring lentils constantly onto a metal tray. Kyren chuckled to himself as he thought about the times as a kid he used to enjoy making sound effects in that way. Now, however, it seemed the downpour outside was deliberately to torture him into wetting his pants and bed. You had to see the funny side.
His bladder was bloated, and he felt like a large water balloon had been inflated in his pants and was about to burst. Jared's arm was wrapped tightly around his belly, which was wonderful, except for the fact that from Jared's regular breathing and slightly faint snores he was contentedly asleep. Kyren didn't want to disturb Jared or wake him up. But he suspected that pissing the bed would definitely wake Jared up. Or maybe it wouldn't. Maybe if Jared's hand was soaked in Kyren's warm piss it would cause him to piss the bed too, rather like the old trick of putting someone's hand in warm water to make them piss the bed. Now that was an exciting idea. His inner schoolboy wanted to try that on Jared sometime to see if it really worked. He had always wanted as a teenager to try that on a friend, but had never had the boldness or opportunity. He suspected it was a myth and that the videos of people doing the trick online were faked, but for the sake of science he ought at least to try. If it was a fake, and those bedwetters in videos were doing it deliberately, then there were lots of people on the internet that secretly really wanted to pee their pants and only pretended to be angry, embarrassed or annoyed when their best friend put their hand in warm water. Now that was an exciting thought.
Kyren was pinned on his side, and he tried to manouvre himself onto his back, just in case that was a better holding position. As he shifted, some of the muscles in his crotch repositioned and he spasmed. A squirt of pee shot into his yellow Aussie bums, wetting the front. It ran over his balls, warming them, and between his crack, when Kyren became conscious that his Aussie bums didn't have much of a back to them. Any more of a leak and pee would just drip down into the sleeping bag, and he would be sitting in a damp patch before long.
Anxiously, Kyren clamped down and subtly moved his hand onto his crotch to hold himself. He twitched a few more times but at least no more pee was coming. Using his other hand he tried to move Jared's arm and wriggle out of his grasp without waking him. As he did this, Jared gripped Kyren more tightly as a reflex action. This was no good. He would have to be firm, or he would be soaking them both.
Although he hated to do it, firmly Kyren shoved Jared away and pulled himself out of his boyfriends grasp and out of the sleeping bag. He crawled over to the tent exit, but the rain was still lashing down on the walls of the tent. If he went outside he would look like a drowned animal in seconds. He would just wait a bit. Rainstorms usually didn't stay heavy for long, did they?
"Hey baby, is everything okay?"
Kyren was startled to hear Jared was awake and he jumped. It would be ironic if after all that Jared scared the piss out of him.
"Yeah I'm fine," Kyren lied. "I thought you were asleep."
"I was. And having a great dream about you being in my arms but then you pulled away and I started to panic so I woke up."
"Aw. So cute."
Jared snorted. "I'm allowed to be protective of you. Also I was dreaming about us going rock climbing."
"Rock climbing?"
The thought of climbing up a rock, or being up any kind of high place, made Kyren feel a bit sick to the stomach. He hadn't told Jared he was scared of heights - he didn't want to seem like a sissy. He didn't want to reinforce any kind of idea that he was a scared weak little boy who needed a tough jock to take care of him. That was probably overthinking it. Lots of strong, brave men were scared of heights. And even those that weren't were sometimes scared of spiders, which was something that didn't bother Kyren in the least. As far as Kyren was concerned, spiders were great creatures at keeping flies at bay.
"Yeah. I booked for us to go rock climbing tomorrow at the local activity centre. I really love it, and wanted to do more outdoor things with you. I hope you don't mind."
What the...!!
The thought of going rock climbing was horrifying. What if the rope broke? No, that was illogical. What if he looked down, and got scared, and froze? Or worse, what if he was sick on the rockface? This weekend away with Jared was paradise, but to Kyren, the thought of rock climbing was hell.
At the thought of being stuck on the side of a cliff face, Kyren felt a cold shiver pass through his whole body. He was suddenly light headed and clammy, and his groin felt really odd, almost like his cock was shrinking and his balls were receding in fright. The need to pee was now persistent and urgent, and Kyren knew if he let the slightest leak out he would pee. Which he wasn't going to do, not while inside.
"Babe, are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost." Jared had the flashlight on, pointed in Kyren's direction.
"It's fine, I'm fine,". The blond haired younger boy was trying to convince himself as much as anything.
"Rock climbing sounds cool. I've not done it before, I'm a bit scared, but I'll give it a go." Kyren couldn't belive the words coming out of his mouth. For anyone else he would have flat out refused. But Jared had clearly organised this as a shared bonding activitity, and he didn't want to disappoint his boyfriend. After all, relationships were all about trying out new things, getting to know each other, pushing the boundaries.
"You don't look fine." Jared's voice was full of concern. "Are you feeling sick? Was it the food."
"No, I just really need a pee, and it is raining outside.
"Oh I see." Jared sounded excited. He said breathily. "My boyfriend needs to pee - sexy."
Kyren laughed. "Yeah, except you might not find it sexy if our entire tent reeks of my piss."
Jared said, "So, how do you want to do it?"
Kyren grinned. "That's the kind of question only someone with a fetish would ask." Then he said, "I'll have to pee outside, tempting as it is to want to just pee into a spare towel and chuck it out in the rain. I'm just waiting for the rain to ease..."
FLASH!
The tent suddenly was light for a momentary second. Kyren counted 1...2.
BOOM!
Kyren screamed. "Crap! I hate thunder."
His aussie bums felt warmer.
"Jared I think I peed a bit."
Jared was out of his sleeping bag and had his arms round Kyren in seconds. The soft, comforting embrace was exactly what he needed, and Kyren relaxed his shoulders.
"Sorry. You must think me a real baby being scared of thunder."
Jared kissed him. "You're my baby. But everyone is pretty much scared of thunder and lightning in a tent. It's not like being in a house. You shouldn't worry though. It's not like these tents have large metal poles, they are fibreglass and very low to the ground. And I set this tent up properly, so it won't blow down."
Kyren felt a bit calmer, but it didn't solve the problem. "I'm about to wet my pants though. I don't want to leave the tent on my own, or go far in the thunderstorm."
"Then wet your pants. I don't mind."
Kyren sighed. "I know but I don't want to make a puddle in here. Can you come outside with me, just for a second?"
Jared nodded. "Sure. Why don't you take of your T -shirt? Skin is pretty waterproof, and you'll dry off quicker that way."
"Okay."
Before he could take his T-shirt off, Jared had it off him, and his own T-shirt. Now both of them were just wearing their underwear. Kyren threw on a raincoat, but didn't bother to do it up, and Jared was already unzipping the tent. As he did, Kyren saw that the rain was coming down in sheets. and was in danger of coming into the tent if they didn't move fast. Jared had already dived out of the entrance, and Kyren followed.
Both boys raced to the nearest tree, which provided a small amount of shelter, but the wet rain was still getting through. In seconds Kyren's chest, legs and feet were wet, and his yellow Aussie briefs were getting damper not with piss but rain. Clearly nature wanted to wet Kyren's pants for him, whether he wanted to or not.
F**k it, he thought, and pushed out hard, letting all the warm piss force itself out into his boxers. Another burst of lightnighting, another thunderclash, and he shuddered, but carried on peeing. Jared clasped his hand firmly.
"That's it. That's damn sexy. Keep doing that."
Kyren peed with all his might into his yellow Aussie Bums, and it ran down his legs, mingling with the rainwater at his feet. It felt so natural, so perfectly animal, that he didn't feel like a freak at all. Finally his bladder was empty.
"Better?" asked Jared.
"Much better." Kyren pulled off his wet underwear, and hung it on a tree branch, to deal with in the morning. Jared smiled, and pulled his boxers off and hung them next to him. Then Kyren brushed his legs with rainwater to get the pee off, and they both danced aroud in the storm like mad things. With each thundercrap they laughed uproariously, and for that moment being scared of the storm was the farthest thing from Kyren's mind. |
Dear reader! I must confess something to you immediately, before you read on. I am obsessed with pee! I adore delaying my trips to the restroom until I am nearly at the bursting point! And even more than that, I adore watching girls and boys who need to go. Their squirming and pained expressions are like a grand play, and their whimpering is the music! I have – how is it called in English? ah yes, I remember – I have a fetish. That is what my story is about, and only that. If that is disturbing to you, please turn back now!
With that out of the way, bonjour, my name is Blaise DuPree. You Americans should say it like “blez”. It’s not “blaze” and it is certainly not “blah-zay”! “Blez” is also wrong, but you will not get it any closer without professional instruction.
I have been living in America for two years, in a suburb of New York with my beautiful girlfriend Ann. Oh, just saying her name fills my heart with joy! How I love that girl. My story concerns some events near the beginning of our relationship. I met her when she was on tour, in Bordeaux, where I was born and raised and where I had been living in an apartment just big enough for a bed and a small desk. What is the English phrase for this? Ah yes. It was the size of a postage stamp. Anyway, I first saw her at a movie theatre. We had both come to see the same film – I can’t remember which one, but it was in English – and she was about to leave, having just learned that the establishment only accepted euros, and not dollars. Money had never been a problem for me, so I tapped her on the shoulder and offered (in English, as it was clear to me that she was an American tourist) to pay both of our tickets. She very graciously accepted – oh, she does everything with such grace! – and we sat next to one another in the theatre room.
As the film played, I couldn’t help stealing a glance every now and again at the absolute work of art beside me. Oh, my apologies – I understand in America it’s considered rude to refer to women as works of art. Well, I don’t mean to degrade her humanity. She had, as I would find out later, both the heart and the brains of an angel. And, in my humblest of opinions, the sein of an angel as well. About halfway through the film, I utterly lost control of myself: I snuck my foot over to the side and gave her ankle a little playful kick. To my absolute delight, she returned the gesture less than five minutes later. Oh! My heart flutters to think of it.
Soon the credits were rolling. I knew I had to take my chances. As the girl was about to stand up, I asked her name, and told her mine. I then asked her out for coffee the next day. Well reader, I suppose she must have found me at least half as attractive as I found her – either that or she liked my foreign accent – because she accepted!
We met in the early afternoon, at a coffee shop on the outskirts of town, in view of the Garonne. To my surprise, she ordered the drink she wanted by its French name. I inquired; and she explained that she was a bit of an enthusiast, and had learned the names before her arrival. I was too, at the time, and we started chatting about drinks. Before we knew it, evening had come, and we were still talking. She was obliged to leave, and I – desperate to know whether I would see her again – asked if she was staying long in France. To my heart’s great relief, she said she was staying another week and a half. We planned another date in two days’ time.
Looking back on things, I realize now what I didn’t notice at the time: that Ann did not pause once to use the restroom during either of our first two meetings. I can’t remember now whether or not it is normal not to relieve oneself after watching a movie – I haven’t done so in years, but I know I am unusual when it comes to bathroom frequency. But I know, given how long we chatted in our second meeting, that most people would have wanted to go in that time. Doubly so given the number of coffees we each drank. But my mind was elsewhere in the moment.
On our third date, though, the topic was on my mind. It was in the afternoon, I hadn’t used the washroom myself since the previous day’s morning – did I mention that I have a gigantic bladder and that I take full advantage of it? – and I was getting a bit, ahem, full. So, as I say, the topic was on my mind.
The date began with a two o’clock movie, during which Ann drank several soft drinks. I eyed each one as she finished it off. We had planned a whole afternoon together over text, and I was curious how long this American girl would last before she was running off to relieve herself. After the movie, we made another trip to the same coffee shop from before, where we chatted again about our mutual enthusiasm for the drink, and shared some of our views on philosophy if I remember correctly. I was eying the bathrooms in the corner, not because I wanted to use them – I would not dream of using a public bathroom, do you hear me? Note it well. Anyway, not because I wanted to use them, but because I wanted to know if Ann would want to use them. I could simply have asked her, but I wasn’t so sure if it would come across as unusual. Probably it would have been okay. She had drank a lot, so it wouldn’t have seemed out of place. But things were going so well, and she was so beautiful, and I didn’t want to take the risk.
She did not end up using the bathrooms, which impressed me quite much. Next we took a walk through one of Bordeaux’s beautiful parks, which I think about every day now that I’m living here in America. I tried to keep an eye on her expression, see if her eyes might be darting to and fro for a restroom she could use. They didn’t seem to be. We were content to walk around in the park for several hours, engaged in some of the most enthralling conversation I’d ever had.
When the sun was starting to go down, we made our way over to a bridge I knew of so that we could watch it set over the river. We stood very closely together, and I dared to reach down and hold her hand. She accepted the gesture with enthusiasm, which surprised me even though anybody could see that we had “hit it off”. Here I was, a nobody in France, practically forcing myself on a tourist who would be leaving in six days’ time, selfishly demanding her attention and affection even though our time together was so clearly going to be limited by circumstance. I think the earnest and candid attitude she displayed on this night played a large role in my ultimate decision to pack my things and accompany her back to America at the end of her tour.
Anyway, the sunset seemed to me to last for an hour. I admit, this was partly due to the state of my own bladder, which by this time was fit to burst right out of my gut. But the better part was due to the effect this girl was having on me. Simply being in her presence stretched time by a factor of two, and holding her hand stretched it by another factor of four.
And how much sweeter would it have been, had I known that she too was bursting to pee? This is something she told me later, long after I moved to America and long after the events of this story. She told me that she needed to pee almost as badly as she ever had, and that she, like me, had not used the toilet since the previous day. Did she show any sign of it at the time? Was she tapping her foot, making a tense expression, or standing with her legs a little closer together than normal? I don’t know. Certainly there was no obvious sign of it. I have a good memory, but you can’t expect me to remember this kind of detail unless I’m looking for it.
My introduction is getting long, so I’m going to fast-foward through the rest of it. Ann and I went on a few more dates, during which she again displayed impressive control over her bladder. I remarked half-jokingly that I would like to follow her back to America, she said she would be open to that, I decided to actually do it, the best decision I’ve ever made, blah blah blah, etc etc. We decided that we were officially a couple the night before we left. She lived in a New York suburb and I moved in with her. There, now you’re caught up.
–
My story begins in earnest about three months after I moved to America. Ann’s trip to France had taken place in May, and now the Summer was just winding down. It was a mid-August afternoon, a Wednesday, and she and I had formed a little tradition of going out for dinner and a movie on Wednesdays. We had just left the movie theatre, and were back in the car, making our way to the restaurant.
“Say,” Ann said. “It’s gonna start getting cold out in a few weeks.”
“Yes,” I said. “Why do you mention it?”
“I was thinking, if we wanna take that camping trip we’ve been talking about, we should do it soon.”
I nodded. “You’re right. Would you like to do it next week?”
“Sure!” she said.
Then the conversation petered out, and I had a feeling that I knew why. Ann had not used the bathroom all day, nor had she used it yesterday afternoon, and if I knew my girlfriend at all, she had most definitely not woken up and used it in the middle of the night. So by now, the poor girl was probably nearing her limit.
Have I mentioned that I’d been keeping my eye on Ann’s bladder these last few months? You’ve probably guessed as much. That girl had been knocking my socks off again and again with how well she could control herself. At this point we’d taken many full-day outings, spending eight hours or more in public, and she had never used a public bathroom once. That alone, I think, would put her in the top echelon of holders, and of course, as I’ve already told you, she’d pulled off much grander feats as well.
This time, though, I was really wondering if I would finally see her reach her limit. I’d gained a sort of sixth sense for the signs she displayed when she was getting desperate, and tonight she was showing all of them: rubbing her ankles together, looking around the space she was in, talking noticeably less than usual, and probably giving off other signals too that I couldn’t point to, but that I was nonetheless unconsciously aware of. The reading was, as you Americans would say, completely off the graphs. It was one of the most deliciously delightful scenarios I had ever experienced. I could hardly focus on driving safely for how turned on I was; and when we got to the restaurant and were getting out of the car, I took a moment to discretely, ahem, adjust myself, so as not to be showing any outward sign of my excitement.
Inside, we took our seats in one of the tiny booths, and ordered our usual – a cheese pizza, half assorted veggies, half banana peppers only. (Yes, our favorite restaurant was a pizza place. Don’t you dare lecture me about it how unhealthy it is. I already know, and if you’re an average American, you aren’t one to talk anyway. We ate healthy the rest of the week – Wednesday was our cheat day.) As we waited for our food, I deliberated asking Ann whether she wanted to empty her bladder. We had never actually discussed our bathroom habits at this point, even though we were almost through the third month of our relationship and even though we were both extremely unusual in that regard. I guessed that her silence on the issue stemmed from the same distaste for the subject as a whole that presumably explained the extreme infrequency of her breaks. Mine was due to a nervousness that had been instilled in me by years of knowing that my fetish would make me a “freak” in most people’s eyes – I tried never to bring the topic up at all, lest I accidentally bring it up too often and be found out.
But something must have been in the air that night, because –
“Ann?” I said.
“Hmm?” she asked.
“You seem, uh, a bit uncomfortable. Is everything all right?
”She smiled, and threw back her long, angelic blonde hair. “Sorry,” she said. “Yes, everything’s fine, I just… oh, it’s nothing.”
I nodded and smiled back at her. “All right,” I said. “Well, say, I have something to bring up, if it’s not too personal.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Well, I’ve noticed over the past couple of months that you and I both… we’ve both got fairly strong bladders, I think. Would you agree?”
“Oh, yes!” she said enthusiastically. “Blaise, you’re absolutely right. I’ve noticed the same thing, and I have to say, I love that about you. I’ve had boyfriends before who’ve had tiny bladders, and it was always so annoying to have to constantly stop and look for a bathroom so they could pee every two hours. I don’t think the two of us had to make a single pit stop yet, have we?”
I shook my head. “No, I can’t recall ever having to do that.”
She smiled. “I just love it. I’ve had a gigantic bladder my whole life, and I’ve always hated using public bathrooms. They’re always so smelly and inconvenient to use.”
Well, that answered my question about emptying her bladder right now. But I didn’t drop the subject. An idea had come into my head, and since we were already talking about our bladders, I felt safe in bringing it up without her thinking I was being weird.
“Well, I was thinking…” I said. “When we go on our camping trip, I think it would be best if we… didn’t need to make many pit stops. It’ll be more convenient that way, and peeing outside is, well, probably not very hygienic.”
Ann nodded. “Good thinking,” she said. “I’ve never peed outside before, but I imagine it’s not much fun. We should definitely just hold it until we get back home.”
Until we get back home!? I had only meant that we should avoid peeing as much as possible, but this was… something else. And the way she nodded had been so casual, as though my suggestion had been utterly ordinary, purely a matter of course, hardly more than a formality. Under the table, I pinched myself to be sure I wasn’t dreaming. Had this all really happened? Had I really met the girl of my dreams purely by chance, simply because she’d confused euros and dollars at a theater? Had I really moved to America just to be with her? And was she really assenting to the idea that she should try not to pee for the entirety of a week-long camping trip? It seemed impossible. I pinched myself over and over, until tears were about to come to my eyes, and nothing changed. Ann still sat across from me; her eyes were still green and beautiful, her blonde hair still full and rich, her breasts still perfect and round, her ankles still audibly rubbing together under the table… and she was showing no sign of having been joking when she’d agreed to my accidental suggestion. I thought of correcting her, but… I couldn’t bring myself to do it. If she wanted to wait the whole week, then by goly, I’d let her.
The waiter brought us our pizza, and as Ann ate I detected no hint of urgency in her manner. We talked little during the meal and not at all during our ride home. She didn’t resurface the topic of peeing, not even a casual remark that she needed to go, and I was beginning to think that I was imagining things. But when we got home and had removed our shoes, Ann, without making any fuss over it, walked over into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. As usual, her stream sounded like a waterfall.
–
I told you at the beginning of the story that I am obsessed with pee. I’ll tell you now that I am not obsessed with driving. If you came to this story expecting to get off to long passages detailing the turns we made, the long stretches of grey asphalt, or the erotic double yellow line in the middle, then I’m sorry to say that I’ve cut that part out. Ann and I used the bathroom before we left home – we’re ambitious, not stupid – and then nothing interesting happened for the next twenty-four hours. We arrived in the late evening, and had only enough energy to set up our tent before collapsing into our sleeping bags and falling asleep.
Oh, and Ann drank a bottle of water in the car, in addition to drinking a normal amount of fluids with each meal we stopped for. She made no mention of the effect it would have on her bladder, and she also made no mention of it the next morning. I drank the same amount.
Our campsite was at the base of a mountain, and after we’d woken up and eaten our breakfast, we decided to spend the first day hiking up it. I deliberated asking Ann about the status of her bladder, but I decided against it. Of course she needed to go; it had been a whole day since her last bathroom visit. I have a mammoth bladder too, in case you’ve forgotten, and even I felt the urge.
By the way, I want to quickly defend my reputation here. I am not a pervert. I did not become Ann’s boyfriend just because I wanted to see her desperate. I don’t spend all my time thinking about her bladder. I do love her bladder, but I also love her. During our hike up the mountain, her bladder was on my mind – as I expected it to remain until our, ahem, situation was resolved – but I was also simply enjoying spending time with my girlfriend, who, now that I was away from Bordeaux, was also the only friend I could speak to in person. I’ll leave those parts out of the story, but please know that they’re there.
During our hike up the mountain, we both emptied one of the water bottles we’d brought with us. At the top, we broke for lunch, and each emptied another. There were portapotties here and there, and as we were getting ready to head back down, the topic of bathrooms resurfaced for the first time.
“I’m really glad I don’t have to use these,” Ann said, gesturing at the portapotties. “And I’m also really glad you don’t have to. They’re always so gross.”
“That they are,” I said. I put my arm around her as we walked.
She put a hand on her belly. “It’s just so much better not to have to worry about it!” she continued. “I love having a huge bladder.”
I smiled back at her, and said nothing. What could I have said, except for the obvious observation that we weren’t going to make it the entire week? I hadn’t meant to suggest taking literally zero bathroom breaks for the entire trip, but if that was the goal she had in mind then I’d have thought she’d be at least a little doubtful of her ability to meet it. I’d have thought that after having a chance to mull over what she’d agreed to, she’d try to walk it back – tell me that she couldn’t wait a whole week after all and that she’d need to pee at least every X days. I thought she would tell me she had a limit.
But I didn’t say that out loud. I didn’t put in her mind the idea that she’d have to pee sooner or later, because I wanted to use this trip as an opportunity to finally see how long it would take until she discovered that for herself.
–
In the evening, we went kayaking in a small pond which was also near our campsite, situated in the valley between the mountains. We’d been drinking as normal throughout the day, and by now it had been well over 36 hours since our last bathroom break. I definitely wanted to pee, and I had a feeling I’d be showing it soon, were it not for the diligent effort I’d put forth a number of years ago to rid myself of that habit entirely. Nowadays having a bursting bladder does nothing to my outward appearance; I could pose for a painting with two liters inside of me.
As we paddled aimlessly across the surface of the water in the cool evening calm, it occurred to me that Ann had already begun one of her tells: she was talking less than usual. Would she be rubbing her ankles together too if not for the fact that she was stuck in a tiny kayak? As I considered the question, a beautiful scene painted itself in my mind, of Ann and I kayaking on this very lake on an evening just like this one, but with double the liquid inside of her. I guiltily imagined her whimpering with the effort of containing her pee; I imagined her worrying, perhaps for the first time in her life, about whether she could actually hold on until she was able to go; I wondered whether she would have an accident under these conditions.
The questions filled my mind. Everyone has a limit, but not everyone reacts the same way to reaching it. If you kept Ann from using the bathroom for long enough, and made her drink water like normal, then eventually she would pee her pants, but there’s no telling what she would do leading up to that moment. Would she become huffy and irritable, demanding that I understand what she was going through and not poke any fun at her? Would she grow more and more panicked at the thought of losing control in front of her boyfriend, and finally dive into the water so she could pee discretely? Or would she just remain her normal self – cool, composed, and rational – until finally the pee leaked out? Would the puddle embarrass and humiliate here, or would it be just a simple mess that she needed to clean up?
I badly wanted to know how my girlfriend was doing. Again and again the question rose up from my lungs right out to the very tip of my tongue, before I bit down on myself and swallowed it. Were I to ruin this nigh-perfect evening on the lake with a question about bodily functions – and a question motivated by my fetish, no less – then I really would be the pervert I claim to be better than. She needed to pee; I didn’t need to know any more than that for now.
–
We slept a little less easily that night due to our uncomfortably full bladders. Well, I’m assuming Ann was uncomfortable. I certainly was, and I’ve never met anyone with a capacity greater than my own. Goddess though she was, she did use the bathroom every now and then. And although I hate to admit it, my bladder woke me up once in the middle of the night. I was able to get back to sleep, but in the morning I woke up a fair bit earlier than I had the previous day, and I was fairly sure I knew why. When I awoke, Ann was already up. I saw her silhouette crouching outside the tent.
“Good morning, honey,” I called.
“Good morning,” she called back.
I stood up out of my sleeping back and stepped outside. There she was, my beautiful girlfriend, crouching in front of a ring of stones with some sticks in the middle of them.
“What are you doing?” I inquired.
“Trying to make us a campfire,” she said. “I wanna have those eggs for breakfast.” She was referring to a carton of eggs we’d brought with us to experiment with frying them over a fire. She held a flint-and-steel firestarter in her hands, and was striking it over and over again trying to get a fire going. I watched her for several minutes. After every five or six attempts she would shift her weight a little, moving to a slightly different position before making another series of attempts.
“Having any luck?” I asked.
“Not really,” she said.
I watched her some more. My bladder was aching to be emptied, just painfully full, and watching her shift around like that was somehow making my own need more urgent. But despite badly needing to pee, I noticed that I was also quite thirsty, so I stepped back inside the tent, grabbed another water bottle, brought it back out to where Ann was, and sat on the ground to drink it. She glanced up at me, then down at the bottle, and after working unsuccessfully on the fire for few more minutes, she stood up and went inside the tent for a bottle of her own.
Again I debated asking her about her bladder, and again I decided not to. When she was done drinking, she went back to her fire, and in another quarter-hour she managed to get it burning. She precoded to grab one of the skillets we’d brought, hold it in the flame for a while, and finally crack an egg into it. All the while she continued shifting her weight around every thirty seconds or so. The longer she went on like that, the more certain I became that I finally had the answer to my question; Ann was bursting to pee.
She made an egg for herself and another one for me, and we ate in silence, her shifting her weight occasionally and me sitting statue-still. When we were done eating, I floated the question of what we wanted to do today, and she told me that she was interested in hiking up the mountain again, but following a harder trail this time. I told her I would enjoy that, so we put our dishes back inside the tent, extinguished the fire and got on our way.
As we climbed, it started seeming to me that Ann might be even more desperate than she was letting on. Every so often I’d look over at her suddenly and catch her swiping her hand away from her groin area, as though perhaps she’d been holding herself between the legs, or nearly doing so. When we stopped to catch our breath she stood with her legs pressed together and a somewhat impatient demeanor, though she said nothing at all. And she, like me, drank nothing during the climb, even though it was indeed much more difficult than yesterday’s climb and was doubtless making her thirsty.
During one of our breaks, I asked her about this.
“You aren’t drinking anything,” I said. “Aren’t you thirsty?”
She looked around. “I guess I’m a bit thirsty… but you know, heh, I gotta leave some room in there for the rest of the trip!” she said, and as she spoke she wiggled her legs around while giving me a knowing look. My face flushed red, and I nearly got a nosebleed. I couldn’t believe my ears. I was so aroused I could barely speak, so I didn’t really try. I just mumbled something about that being a good idea, and looked away.
At the top of the mountain we sat down to eat, and my thirst overcame my caution about my now-overfull bladder. I took out the water bottle I’d brought in my backpack and reluctantly downed about half of it. Ann took out her own water bottle and began sipping at it as well. We ate our lunch in relative silence, but let me tell you, reader, it wasn’t a very calm silence, at least not for me. I was glad to be sitting down, since it gave my bladder a break from all the jostling, but still… I really, really needed to pee.
“Hey Ann…” I said.
“Hm?” she asked. She had been looking at her phone, and seemed a bit distant.
“I was just thinking… uhm, are you feeling any desire to use the bathroom right now?”
She gave me a bit of a look. “Well, yeah, of course I am,” she said. “I mean, I haven’t peed in…” She thought about it. “…in two and a half days. Or almost two and a half days. So yeah, I have to go.”
“But what I mean is… I mean, are we really going to hold it for the entire rest of the trip?”
The question seemed to genuinely stump her. She looked to the side and squirmed a little in her seat, then looked back at me.
“I don’t wanna do it outside,” she finally said. “I mean, yeah, like, obviously I really need to pee, but I can wait.”
I stood up, walked around to her side of the table, and sat down next to her. I gave her a kiss on the cheek, then reached under the table and pulled her shirt up just a little, revealing that her belly, which was normally just a bit chubby and quite soft, was now noticeably larger and firm to the touch. I put my hand on the swollen bulge, and gave it a gentle pat. Ann showed no reaction, except perhaps a slightly wry expression.
“You’re going to hold this until the end of our trip?”
“…I have a huge bladder.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Listen, Blezzy, peeing outside is disgusting. It’s worse than peeing in a public bathroom. We have huge bladders. It’s just… not an issue for us. We don’t have to put ourselves through that. I don’t want to do that, and I don’t want you to do that. We can hold it.”
So she wasn’t going to be deterred from trying to wait it out. Even the idea of me peeing outside was disturbing to her. I wouldn’t have guessed that she’d care, but… if she wanted me to wait, then I’d wait. Or at least, I’d try. It would be difficult, but it might be a little easier on account of the fact that holding pee is always easier with an erection, and if Ann was going to hold her pee in for the rest of the trip, then I was going to have one for the rest of the trip.
“Okay,” I said.
–
On the way back down the mountain, Ann’s need was getting a bit more noticeable. We stopped walking to catch our breath several times, but she never really stopped moving. At each stop she would slowly pace around, or stand still but shift her weight from foot to foot constantly, usually with her hands interlaced right in front of her crotch, as though she wanted nothing more in the whole world than to plunge them in and hold herself tight. Even as we walked, it was clear from her stride – the way she crossed one leg in front of the other with each step – that she was plainly bursting. It was a pleasure to watch, and it served to distract me from my own plight somewhat.
We got back to our tent around four o’clock, and rested for a while before eating a dinner of miscellaneous snacks taken from our bags. During this time, Ann seemed to regain control of herself: she left her butt planted firmly on her seat and didn’t change position once, even though her bladder was surely boiling inside of her.
Then I remembered my fantasy from the previous day, the one where Ann was almost losing control of herself inside the kayak. Thinking of this, I suggested to Ann that we go kayaking again in a bit, and she cheerfully agreed. In the intervening downtime, I picked up a book and tried to continue reading where I’d last left off, but I found it immensely difficult to concentrate for more than a few sentences due to my bladder, which was getting, I admit, a little out of hand. I looked over at Ann to see what she was doing, and saw that she was just on her phone. She didn’t usually spend much time on that thing… maybe she was having issues focusing on anything else?
Sunset came, and we got in the kayak and pushed off from shore.
We paddled around, and held our pee. What else is there to say? Shall I describe the gentle rocking of the boat, and guess whether it was jostling Ann’s bladder around inside of her? Shall I tell you that the paddles made quiet splashes as they struck the water, and postulate that the sounds were torture for Ann to listen to? Shall I tabulate for you each and every instance where I thought I saw Ann’s serene smile twitch a little, her leg bounce once, her hand wander towards her crotch, her breathing falter for a moment, her eyes betray a flash of the desperation she must have felt inside? These things were happening quite a lot. My sixth sense was screaming in my ear that Ann was reaching her limit – that she was positively about to pop, and that at any second the pee might start spraying uncontrollably out of her. Soon enough we paddled back to shore, returned to our tent, and cuddled up inside, and it was like I was cuddling an old land mine, which for all I knew could explode in my hands at any time. She couldn’t sit still.
Then my phone buzzed in my pocket. It startled me because it’s almost always on silent. In fact, the only one who could make my phone vibrate was –
Ann: Blaise.
I stared at the text in confusion, then looked over at her phone, where I saw the same message in her texting app, right above the spot where she was still typing. Then my phone buzzed again:
Ann: Blaise, listen.
Ann: I need to pee. I can’t hold it.
I leaned forward and tried to look Ann in the eye, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. She was wriggling like crazy and wearing an agonized expression. I said her name aloud, but she just turned away and continued typing. Another buzz:
Ann: Please don’t, this isn’t discussion-worthy.
Ann: That’s why I’m texting you instead.
Ann: I can’t wait, I’m going right now.
And with that, Ann stood up and walked out of the tent.
–
I followed, of course. Ann strode quickly down to the edge of the lake, and I tailed closely behind her. When she got to the water, she stopped, pulled down her pants, squatted down, and began to pee. A few initial gushes came spurting out, then the main stream. It sounded like a faucet had been turned on. I could hear it clearly from where I was standing fifteen feet away. I ran up to her, crouched down beside her, and saw that her head was tipped back and her eyes were closed. The pee flowed into the lake in a waterfall more powerful than I had thought possible.
Forty-five seconds in, Ann groaned, shifted position a little, and continued peeing. Another forty-five seconds and she sighed heavily. Her stream was showing no sign whatsoever of stopping, or even slowing down. It was a full three minutes before the flow decreased at all from its initial strength, and even at the end of the fourth minute she was still peeing at about a normal rate. Only after five minutes did she finally finish up, pushing out a few last spurts of pee before standing again, and pulling up her pants.
“Wow,” I commented. “That’s a lot of –”
But she held a finger to her lips, then pulled out her phone and began typing.
Ann: I’ve never needed to pee that badly before.
Ann: That can’t have been healthy.
I nodded as I read the texts, and already knew what I would say in response, but first, I had some business of my own to take care of. I stood up, unbuttoned my jeans, and began emptying my own bladder into the lake as well. I peed for about as long as she did, and when I was done, I breathed a sign of relief unlike any I had ever breathed before. The tension dissipated; I could think clearly again.
The first thing I did after finishing up was to take out my phone to respond to Ann’s texts.
Blaise: So was I.
Blaise: I thought we were going to overflow the lake.
Blaise: Three days is crazy.
And she replied back:
Ann: It really is.
Ann: Really glad it’s over, I don’t even wanna think about it.
Ann: Let’s not try that again.
So there we were, standing at the edge of the lake, having finally emptied our utterly overflowing bladders, looking into each other’s eyes and knowing the relief the other one felt. After taking a few moments just to soak in the fresh feeling of being empty again, I put my arm around Ann’s shoulders, and we headed back to our tent. I wish I could have talked more with her about the experience, had her tell me in exquisite detail the emotional state she was in just when she was breaking down, but of course, she had made it clear that the topic wasn’t interesting to her… and if I had pressed the matter, I don’t think I could have remained discrete about my fetish. The details would have to be left to my imagination… and damned if I wouldn’t be thinking of this night every day for the rest of my life. |
Hello Folks, I have been a bit of a lurker on here for a while now and finally decided to get involved.
This is one of the stories I posted on another forum, hope you enjoy 🙂
Prologue
Andy and his family have friends visiting from Australia, As they are staying near Edinburgh with Andy's Mum and Dad they decided to take them to see the Firth of Forth bridges and see some other sights.
Andy is a slim 18 year old red head, he is wearing designer jeans, a tight white t shirt which reveals the crown of a nice pubic bush when he raises his arms. An over confident teenager Andy never listens to the advice of his parents which will soon be his humiliating downfall.
The Story.
Roslyn Chapel
It was a fresh Autumnal morning in Stirling, the sun was out and there was barely a cloud in the sky. Andy had just woken up in his bedroom to the sound of the traffic on the street outside and the constant noise of footsteps outside his bedroom door. He stretched out in the bed, as most of us do in the morning, and threw the covers off him, stood up and checked himself out in the mirror. The vain 18 year old stood looking at his nude 18 year old body with his raging hard on pulsing in front of him, he grasped onto himself with a shudder as he suddenly realised his bladder was rather full. He threw on some PJ shorts and raced out of his room down the landing towards the bathroom. Luckily it was free, as he fished his now soft dick out and let the flow commence he felt frustrated that he would have to go with his family on a trip instead of heading to town with his friends for their usual weekend ritual of chasing the local talent and attending the clubs later that night. He proceeded to then get a shower and prepare himself for the boredom of the day ahead.
Late morning and Andy went downstairs to his family to get some breakfast and was told he would be going in the second car to keep Josh, the friends eldest soon company in the back seat. Josh was not the most social of characters, he had been picked on by guys like Andy his whole life for being different. Josh was gay. Even though Josh did not like guys like Andy he loved how Andy looked and little did he know just how amazing his day was going to be.
Josh and Andy jumped into the back seat of the second of the 2 cars, Andy sitting behind Josh's Dad, a rather tall man who has the front seat back rather far resulting in the back seats being rather cramped for Andy. Josh sat behind Andy's Dad which would have been a better place for Andy but then again it was unlikely that they would be in the car for long as Andy knew the itinerary for the day.
First was a trip to Roslyn chapel, North of Edinburgh, then down to Queens ferry for a boat trip on the Forth around Lunch time, Followed by a run into Edinburgh itself for the castle, some shopping and dinner.
Josh: 'Good Morning'
Andy: 'Hey'
Josh: 'Thanks for coming in the car with me, I doubt I would enjoy man chat from the front seats'
Andy: 'yea?'
Josh: 'Yea its nice having someone my own age to chat to'
Andy rolled his eyes and simply put on his headphones completely ignoring Josh.
When Josh realised what Andy had done he just thought to himself 'great all the way from Australia to here, cold weather and a cold reception'
The trip eventually neared Roselynn chapel and the boys jumped out of the car, Andy felt a slight twinge in his bladder and not being one to be caught short decided to go and search for a restroom. Having a rather small bladder Andy was always looking for a restroom, never wanting to turn down the opportunity. Sadly in his search he found some public toilets that said they were closed for cleaning, this did not bother Andy much as he was sure he could go before they left. Whilst walking around the site Josh tried to strike up a conversation again.
Josh: 'Look Andy I know I am not the kind of guy you would usually be friendly with but I would like us to get along, it is great to have someone else my own age on these trips my parents go on'
Andy: 'Yea sure, sorry I was rude in the car, I was not looking forward to today'
Andy however had a guilty secret. He did not like guys like Josh because Andy had always been a little curious about having some fun with a guy.
Josh: 'so after this church where are we off to?'
Andy: 'Down to Queens ferry to go on a boat ride I think'
Josh: 'Awesome, I love trips on the water, something great about being on something fluid'
Just then Andy remembered his slightly forgotten need, it had been about 30mins since he couldn't get into the restroom and he was starting to feel the need.
Andy: 'I am just going to go and find the toilets'
Josh: 'Cool I really need to go too so I will come along'
Josh jokingly gave his crotch a squeeze which Andy saw, and boy did Andy see it, the bulge on Josh's chinos was huge, certainly compared to Andy anyway. Andy's inner confidence was good when it came to the size of his own dick but now he felt slightly threatened and a little aroused.
As the arrived in the toilets Andy went straight to the urinal, Josh pulled up along side him and fished his huge dick out. Andy couldn't help it, he looked down at Josh and immediately got hard, his foreskin retracted exposing his big purple head and Josh let out a squeal as he looked down and saw Andy get hard.
Andy was embarrassed and immediately put his average sized dick away, head still exposed and still hard as hell without having squeezed out so much as a drop.
Josh came back out of the toilets only to see Andy looking angry. Andy told him to tell no-one what happened or he would regret it.
Suddenly Andy remembered he had not been able to piss and was now feeling a dead weight in his bladder, not helped by him standing out in the cold crisp air. His Mum called over to them that they were going to Queens ferry and to get in the cars.
Andy was a little worried now. He knew it was not a long drive to Queens ferry and thought he could make it, even if only just but he certainly couldn't afford to appear weak now and so resigned to holding on.
Queensferry
As they arrived in the small area of Queensferry Andy was worried. He knew he could not hold on for long and was absolutely bursting, pinching at his dick was not an option as his foreskin was still retracted from earlier and the rubbing against his boxer briefs was not helping either. As they drove down the cobblestone streets towards the car park Andy had a moment of sheer horror. He saw a public toilets and the sight was enough to let a small spurt escape, immediately followed by a slightly longer one. He begged his Dad to stop the car so he could go to the toilet but his Dad just told him to grow up.
Andy had not mentioned his desperate state the entire trip in the car and his Dad simply didn't believe him. Josh however peered over and saw the little wet patch of Andy's jeans and mockingly asked if he was going to wet himself.
That question was enough to let another spurt escape. All Andy could think of was his dick was piss flowing out of it, he could mentally see the piss on his pubic hair and could feel it on his, now small. purple head. The wetness did however do one thing to help Andy, as he struggled to hold himself his foreskin flopped back over his head.
When the car came to a stop in the car park Andy jumped out. the public toilets were now too far away for Andy to make it, he was now dangerously close to losing control, he looked around for somewhere to go. He saw some steps leading down to the beach, the sound of the water and the cold air made him release another longer spurt. Andy now had a small wet patch about the size of a tennis ball to the right side of his jeans and a streak, stretching a couple of centimetres down from it. He proceeded down the steps and started to unzip but just then, Josh, who was enjoying the sight very much (wet himself in his underwear but for an entirely different reason) shouted to Andy that he cannot just pee in public. Andy head his Mum and Dad calling for him and he panicked. He put himself away but not before spurting more into his jeans.
He ran up to his parents asking where the toilets were but it was too late. As he was asking his parents he felt his legs get warm and heard the unmistakable hissing sound from his crotch.
Andy was now in full flow, his limp teenage cock powerless to resist the torrent flowing from him. His Dad simply apologised for not believing him earlier and told him that he had some of Andy's gear from football in the back of the car so that he could change. Andy walked back to the car to rummage for some chinos he left there last time he attended training as he travelled home in his kit.
As he rummaged, Josh how was now on the verge on blowing his load told Andy that was the hottest thing he had ever seen, Andy simply told him to leave him alone.
Andy walked the walk of shame back towards the public toilets. A fit young guy with a huge wet patch on his jeans being witnessed by everyone. He walked inside and felt someone grab his arm. Josh pulled him into the disabled toilets and locked the door.
Andy: 'what the f*ck are you doing?'
Josh: 'Just shut up and do as you are told'
Andy was pinned against the wall while Josh engaged, passionately kissing Andy's neck, whispering in his ear how hot he was, Andy had never been treated this way before and felt himself get hard in his sodden jeans and tight fitting boxer briefs. Josh proceeded to undo his own chinos but was a little caught up in the moment and Andy saw Josh get very wet around the tip of his huge cock, Josh was moaning and panting as he kissing Andy and reached down towards Andy's crotch, but it was all a little too much for Josh as he suddenly shot his load in his underwear, soon followed by Andy after he was tugged Andy a couple of times
Folks this is very much a first effort at story writing, it is not something I would say I was great at but its a fantasy I wanted to have written down so I hope you enjoyed it |
Dust, Taylor thought, staring through the car window at the landscape beyond.
It’s like they made an entire state out of sunshine and cows and dust.
Jake had asked her to come with him on this trip, and she had eagerly accepted. It had seemed, at the time, like a chance to turn a “him and I” into an “us”, to turn a few months and a dozen nights and a toothbrush into something real, something that would last. Plus, some entirely too romantic part of herself (the 19th century painting kind, not the Valentine’s Day kind) had insisted it would be good to see the countryside, to get in touch with a part of the world that had not yet been graced by the light of sidewalks and bike lanes and Starbucks for a change.
After around the third disgusting gas station bathroom (or was it the second hastily scarfed down McDonald’s meal?), she had come to seriously question this hope. The desert really was pretty, but a highway was a highway, a fast-food chain was a fast-food chain, and if the flow of time left a place behind, well, sometimes there was a reason. At this last thought, she shifted slightly in her seat, and pressed her thighs together for just a moment. They’d stopped about an hour ago for a late lunch, and in the blazing afternoon sun she’d chugged her large soda perhaps slightly faster than had been wise. She sat up straighter in her seat, stretching, and turned to her boyfriend.
“How much further?” Taylor asked.
Jake smirked at her. “Are we there yet?”, he said, teasing.
She cut her eyes at him. “No, really, I’m tired.” A little white lie, but she felt slightly embarrassed at wanting the restroom again so soon to start with. When she was younger, she had always visited the bathroom at the slightest urge- what if this, what if that?- but lately she’d been trying to put it off longer, a little battle between her and herself. She was a grown adult, and adults, among other things, didn’t have to break off what they were doing every hour on the hour to take an anxiety piss.
“Probably two more hours, at least. You should sleep.”
“Are you sure you’re okay driving?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He flashed her his best reassuring smile. It wasn’t, honestly, that reassuring, but she actually was a little tired, and between the dull vibration of the highway, the soft warmth of the fading sun, and the enticingly cool leather of the seat Taylor found herself drifting off to sleep.
Jake, meanwhile, stared at the road ahead. He was damn near exhausted, as he’d been up early packing the car, but he just- well- there were things you trusted to people you didn’t know that well and things you didn’t. A little voice in his head nagged at him. “People you don’t trust? For fuck’s sake man, get over yourself. She l- she likes you, you like her, you have a good thing going, and if she’s gotten this far in life alive she’s probably not going to wreck this thing against whatever the hell you could even hit in a desert anyway.”
He argued back. Trust is something you build- not hand out always, not hand out never, just build. This trip, inviting her here- this was building trust. The car, and anything else where she could fuck up and kill them both could wait a little longer- not like she had a problem with him playing the gentleman, anyway. Jake chuckled a little at this last thought, and, noticing how heavy his eyelids felt, reached for the radio, then pulled his hand back, looking at his sleeping girlfriend in the passenger seat. He bit his lip, settled for making the air on the driver’s side (thank you, premium package) a little colder, and stared back at the road.
Taylor lays quietly in her seat, sleeping, dreaming. She sits in her math class, back in school. She needs to leave early, for volleyball practice, but the teacher won’t let her. He hands her a sword and says something about an infestation of spiders in the hallway. Of course- the hallway spiders. She leaves the classroom and does valiant battle with them, but then the hallway is a cave, and her sword is gone, and she’s lost, and alone, and afraid. She calls out, but she can’t speak. She also has to pee, but there isn’t a bathroom in the cave, so she goes looking for one. She reaches the cave bathroom, but there’s a line. When the line finally clears, she rushes into the stall, sliding her shorts down as she runs, but there’s no toilet, just a set of stairs leading down. Reluctantly, she pulls her shorts back up, and descends the stairs. Of course- volleyball practice. That’s where she was going. If she wins this game, she’ll be allowed to pee, but if she doesn’t, she has to hold it forever. Her bladder aches. She tries her best, but the opposing center slams the ball home, and coach says she has to wait. The other team promptly squats where they stand, and this hissing sound of their relief follows her as she runs out of the gym, desperately searching for somewhere, anywhere to let go. Finally, she finds an empty hallway and spreads her legs…
“FUCK!”
Taylor jolted awake as something that sounded like a truck horn sounded and the car swerved, hard. She saw headlights, screamed, grabbed the seat for dear life- the road ahead was dark again. Jake sat bolt upright, panting, eyes wide.
“What was that?” she yelled.
Jake gestured for a moment with both hands, thought better of it, put them back on the wheel.
“I just- I just drifted a little bit, alright? Calm down.”
“Calm down?”, Taylor replied. “We almost fucking died!”
With a few more moments to collect herself, Taylor felt a distinct… warmth in the crotch of her panties, and not the warm, fuzzy kind. Judging by how swollen her bladder still felt, it wasn’t all of it, but Christ, had she wet herself? A grown woman? Had it been in the dream, or when she woke up? It was dark enough in the car she doubted Jake would notice anything, if there was anything. Of course, she was still dying for the bathroom, and didn’t know where in the hell they were- stupid, stupid, should have asked him to stop earlier, shouldn’t have fallen asleep…
“I’m going to pull over.” Jake said, softly. “Can you drive?”
Taylor froze. Jake pulled the car over to the shoulder, the tires rumbling and Taylor’s bladder jolting as the wheels took the slight drop from the pavement to the sand. He shut off the engine, and turned towards her.
“Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, “I was stupid, I should have let you drive earlier, can you just drive? We’re only like fifteen minutes away.”
“I-“ Taylor said.
“I’m sorry.” Jake said, again.
Taylor hunched forward a bit, pressed her thighs together as hard as she could manage. One hand moved experimentally towards her crotch, but she yanked it back to the top of her thigh, her fist tightly balled. She found she couldn’t look directly at Jake, so she looked at the steering wheel.
“I have to pee.”
Jake frowned.
“Okay.”
“I have to pee really bad.”
“Oh.”
Jake looked down, tapped his fingers on the console.
“Can you wait until we get there, or…”
Taylor said nothing. “Of course she could”, her brain said. “I’m not so sure about that", the slowly cooling patch of pee on the silky white panties she’d hoped to surprise Jake with said. “Make a decision, pretty please”, her pulsing bladder begged.
The silence hung in the air for fifteen seconds or so, until Jake restarted the car and pulled it back onto the road, driving ten under the speed limit. He turned on the radio, got some grainy AM gospel station, left it playing. Taylor settled into a routine of squeezing her thighs together, grabbing the sides of the seat, and swearing under her breath, and had just about made up her mind to jam one of her hands directly against her aching pussy when the noise of the road shifted from the slight hum of a state highway to the crackling rumble of what she hoped to God was a driveway.
“We’re there,” Jake said.
The house was an old turn-of-the-century pile of wood, with nothing but desert around as far as she could see. Jake stopped the car once they’d made it most of the way down the absurdly long driveway- more of a side road, really- and she frantically unlocked the passenger door and hopped out of the car, bouncing up and down slightly. She looked at Jake “Where-“
“First door on the right” he said.
She stumbled up the steps, reached for the handle- it wouldn’t twist.
“Keys!” Jake yelled from the driveway, holding up a small glinting object. He made it up the steps soon enough (not soon enough, her bladder objected), unlocked the door, and Taylor rushed in. The main entryway was a long, ornate hallway, that might have been beautiful were it not dark and dilapidated and were she not on the verge of pressure washing its floors. She found the door he’d mentioned, opened it, and carefully closed it behind her. Her bladder spasmed, and she shoved a hand between her legs, finally alone. She took a moment to regain control, lifted the lid of the toilet, sat down and pulled down her leggings and panties in one swift motion, and sighed with relief as she began to gush piss into the mildewed porcelain bowl.
At least things couldn’t get worse from here, right?
Edited May 10, 2021 by nestorius
(see edit history) |
(Part two. Just a note, there's no more female desperation in this part, just slight male desp and some straight sex. Consider it setup for the third part I don't want to promise but will probably write.)
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Jake waited quietly in the hallway for Taylor to finish. He could also stand to use the bathroom, but not enough so that he felt the need to make a fuss about it. He prided himself on that- control. The ability to make your body work for you, not you for it. When he was younger, he’d been a runner, and he remembered the ridiculous, masochistic joy of the long runs during the cold winters, his hands so cold that his fingers wouldn’t fully uncurl, breaking his body down, bending it to his will. He felt himself stiffen slightly at the thought, dismissed it. Time enough for that later, Jake thought, as he walked slowly down the entrance hall.
He and his mother hadn’t been close, exactly, in the years before she’d died. When she’d left him the house, he’d been surprised, almost- he was certainly a better fit to take care of it than his idiot brother, but she hadn’t seemed the type to take that into consideration. The things you learned about people, even after you knew them for years- reminding you that all you ever really saw was an illusion, just what you thought they were, to you.
He heard the toilet flush, turned, saw Taylor emerge into the hall, shoulders slightly hunched, head slightly bent. He loved that about her, that- weakness, that malleability. He hated himself for loving it, but he loved it still. She walked up the hall quietly, took his hand.
“It’s a pretty house.” Taylor said.
“Yeah.” Jake said. “You hungry?”
She smiled at him, leaned in a bit.
“I”, Taylor pronounced, “am fricking starving.”
Jake kissed her on the forehead.
“Then how about you,” he paused “grab some of the sandwich stuff out of the car and eat something. I’m going to go upstairs and pass out.” With that, Jake made his way up the staircase at the side of the hall, his footsteps on the wood echoing through the otherwise silent house.
“…fucker.” Taylor whispered to herself, watching him go.
Sun streamed through the bedroom window as Jake woke, groggily. He was still wearing all his clothes, and his bladder was throbbing painfully- he must have been more tired than he’d thought, he’d only meant to lie down for a moment, then get ready for bed. Weakness. He could hear the shower running in the upstairs bathroom, so he made his way down the steps to the hall bathroom, then took care of his needs. After poking around cursorily in the car, he didn’t see his bag, so he assumed Taylor must have grabbed it, flushed with a moment of slight guilt, and made his way back upstairs.
As he entered the bedroom, he noticed Taylor’s clothes from the other night piled in the corner. She’d dressed comfortably for the drive- just leggings and an old t-shirt, no bra, and he looked around for a laundry hamper, intent on setting the place in some order. He found one, or at least an old wicker basket that would serve as one, shoved into the corner, pulled it to the side of the bed, and grabbed the shirt and leggings. As he picked up the latter, something fell out. He dropped the other clothes into the basket, looked down. A slight silk thong, wrought with lace around the edges. Jake smiled. Taylor must have been hoping he were less tired the other night. He bent to pick it up, then stopped, noticing a spot on the front- small, somewhere between quarter and ping-pong ball, but noticeable. He felt short of breath for a moment- had she wet herself a little last night? He’d assumed she’d been exaggerating her need, but she’d certainly seemed desperate for the last part of the drive.
Jake heard the bathroom door open behind him, quickly grabbed the thong, and dropped it into the basket. “Good morning!” Taylor said brightly. He felt like- an animal, or something. Uncontrolled. He turned towards her. She saw the look on his face, frowned. “Are you alright?”, she asked. He walked up to her, put his hands on her shoulders, gently pressed her against the wall. Her eyes widened a little, then softened. She sent a hand gently, searchingly into the waistband of his jeans, found him already fully erect, squeezed his cock gently, smiled at him again. She undid his fly as he pressed against her, one hand cradling her head between it and the wall, the other grabbing her towel around the swell of her breasts, slowly pulling it away.
He hesitated for a moment- remembered, she’d started the pill- tried to thrust into her- missed, at which even he had to laugh slightly. She kissed him, pushed him back, away from the wall, onto the bed, Jake falling back with a slight thump onto the mattress. He looked at her for a moment- standing there, her long black hair still wet from the shower, falling over her shoulder in tangles and clumps, her small breasts still glistening, her nipples erect in the slight chill. Taylor put her right knee up onto the bed, then her left, gently lowering herself onto him with a slight gasp. She lifted herself up, then slid down, again, and again- it only took a few strokes before he shuddered involuntarily, his seed shooting into her. Taylor rolled off him, a little of his fluids leaking out. He lay there, panting, for a few minutes, neither of them speaking, both staring at the ceiling.
She spoke first.
“You know, after that, you at least have to make breakfast.”
Jake obliged, surprisingly, and Taylor found herself alone in the bed. She touched herself for a while, halfheartedly, then gave it up. It wasn’t that sex with Jake was bad, necessarily- it was just, there was something missing. She hopped back in the shower to clean herself up, swore up a storm when the hot water ran out halfway through, then pawed through her suitcase and put on some clothes. It had warmed up considerably as the sun rose, so she opted for a loose green top, some plain cotton panties, and a pair of tight lycra shorts that ended maybe halfway down her thigh. Examining herself in the bathroom mirror, she did her hair up into a messy ponytail, then decided she was satisfied, and made her way downstairs.
Jake was in the kitchen, bacon already crackling in a skillet and the old wooden cabinets rattling as he dug around for whatever else he needed. She grabbed some of the orange juice they’d brought out of the fridge, and sipped it slowly as he outlined the plan for the day. Apparently, there was an old barn a few miles away that was also part of this property- they were going to go out there, sort through it for anything they needed or that might be worth selling, then come back to the house for lunch and a rest. Afterwards, they’d check over the house itself, looking for any broken plumbing, mold, structural problems, that kind of thing. It wasn’t a substitute for a real inspection, but it would be a start.
“Make sure you bring water,” Jake said, looking at her sternly. “It’ll get ridiculously hot during the day.”
No shit, Taylor thought, it’s a desert.
“Will do,” she said. She winced slightly, thinking of last night’s close call, and asked “Are there- uh, is there a bathroom at the barn?”. “If we’re going to be there all morning”, she added quickly.
“I think there might be an outhouse or something, I honestly don’t remember. If that’s not to your liking-“ he swept his arm towards the window- “there’s the wonder of the desert.” |
(Bruh I put my heart and soul into that series. That first story wasn't even a story, that was a confession with a fictional ending attached [which I think I mentioned at the time].
Also behold the next chapter. Mostly exposition with some light female desp at the end, but I promise this is the start of The Good Stuff[tm])
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It was probably an hour later before they got going- quick, all things considered. Taylor glanced at the hall bathroom, considering stopping off one last time before they headed out, but then Jake was yelling from the front yard for her to grab the cooler and come on, and frankly she was glad- no need to let one night rattle her forever. They piled into his car, and she reached over to the console and cranked the AC all the way up- even after only a few hours of sun, the car was stifling.
She knew the barn was close, but still, she was surprised at how soon they arrived- she could have to stood to ride in the car a little longer, the windows halfway down, staring out at the mountains in the distance. Jake jumped out of the driver’s side, walked a few paces towards the barn, and stood there- thinking something, or planning, probably. Taylor opened her door, carefully stepped down onto the ground, and went around to the trunk to unload what they’d brought. It wasn’t much, just a cooler full of water she already felt grateful for, a couple of sandwiches Taylor had made while Jake was cleaning up breakfast, and some empty boxes for whatever they brought back.
Jake still stood just in front of the barn just… staring. He wanted to feel something, wanted to feel like this place mattered to him, like the ten years before they’d moved up north had left a mark, but the barn was just a barn. He went back to the car, grabbed a water out of the cooler and a cardboard box, and headed for the doors.
Taylor sat against the wooden loft wall, breathing heavily. She was sore as hell, and her top was coated in sweat around the neck and the armpits, but she felt proud- apparently those volleyball thighs were still good for something. She could dimly hear Jake below, saying he was ready for another box- she yelled back that she was taking a break, and heard him clomping off to go deal with something else on the ground floor. He had sworn up and down that the work boots were important, something something rusty nails, but with them plus the jeans plus the old metal band tank top he looked like he’d come out here to find Heisenberg or something.
Jake, meanwhile, walked casually out of the front doors of the barn, then laid down in the sand, grinning ear to ear. The barn was just wood, but the work felt real, like he belonged here again, and he wouldn’t have guessed his suburb queen of a girlfriend would be up to it either. He thought about Taylor, and then, his throat catching slightly, he thought back to the morning.
What the hell had he felt, looking at that tiny spot? He pushed the thought away as fast as it came, paused, thought about it again. There was something about thinking about Taylor like that, thinking about Taylor doing that, that was just absolutely wrong in a way he wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t like. He doubted she was the type to experiment, though. It wasn’t that she was closed off, sexually, just that she tended to have her way of doing things, and not venture much outside it. If he asked, she’d say yes, politely, maybe do it once or twice if he really pushed her, and then she’d hope he’d forget about it. It was like arguing with a cup of jello- it gave way as long as you pushed it, then just rebounded to whatever it’d been doing in the first place.
Taylor waited ten minutes or so for Jake to come back, then made her way carefully down the rickety loft ladder, taking a long swig of water from a plastic bottle once both feet were securely on the ground. She felt a slight twinge in her bladder, but less than she’d expected. Maybe she’d sweat most of it out, or maybe- she gave a little embarrassed laugh at the thought- last night had redefined to her what it meant to actually need to pee. She poked around the barn for a little while, then found Jake outside, staring at the sky, motionless. She walked softly, slowly towards his head, then gave his tousled brown pair the slightest poke with the tip of her running shoe.
“Hey,” she said, “a vulture’s gonna get you.”
Jake started, then looked up at her, embarrassed, almost guilty. Taylor gave a slight frown of concern, then sat down beside him. “I get it,” she said quietly, “Memories.”
Jake tried to make his best neutral face, but just felt more guilty. Here he was complaining about his sex life to himself and the sky, and Taylor probably thought he was crying about how mommy never loved him or something. “That’s not… actually what I was thinking about” he blurted out.
Taylor inclined her head slightly. “Okay. What are you thinking about?”
Jake sat up, put his arm around Taylor, pulled her closer. “I was thinking,” he said deliberately “about us.”
Taylor’s face dropped like a rock.
“Not like that.” Jake said hurriedly.
“Oh, yeah, yeah of course.” Taylor said, trying hard to fake a smile.
Maybe this conversation can wait, Jake thought.
They went back to the house and had lunch as planned, then spent another sweaty few hours poking through the crawlspaces, closets, and random little holes the place had accumulated over the years. Taylor found an old doll and tried to scare Jake with it, and Jake found a nest of new spiders that scared the hell out of her and, honestly, him. When they’d finished, Taylor had jokingly demanded recompense for the spider incident, and Jake had promised to take her out to dinner at the “finest restaurant in a hundred miles”, which meant the Mexican place in the nearest small town. Taylor showered again and changed into a knee-length sundress with a leather jacket over it, and after a certain amount of pestering, Jake swapped the tank top for a light flannel, though he wouldn’t budge on the boots and jeans.
The town had a gas station, a traffic light, and the restaurant, but the restaurant had bottomless margaritas, and Taylor found herself reevaluating her opinion of the area somewhere in the depths of her second 32oz glass. Jake stuck to a small cup of water, since, of course, he still insisted on driving. After they finished their food, Jake paid, cash, and they headed back out to the parking lot. It was dark, and the chill of the desert night was making itself apparent. Taylor sprinted over to the car, nearly tripping over herself, and called out back to Jake- “It’s fucking cooooold, come on!”. He unlocked the car, and within a few seconds they were both securely within, the heat running full blast.
Jake pulled the car out of the lot. He noticed Taylor had her legs tightly crossed, but she didn’t say anything, and after a brief wait at the light he made the turn onto the state highway. They drove on for about ten minutes with only the soft sound of the radio, and he began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep again.
“It’s my fate.” Taylor said, leaning her seat all the way back.
“It’s your fate what?” Jake replied, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.
“It’s my fate to have to pee in your car. It’s like, synchronicity.”
Now or never, Jake thought.
“Like last night?”, he asked.
“Yeah.” Taylor said, flushing a little.
“I have a question.”, Jake said.
Taylor adjusted her seat back up, and turned to look at him, mock serious.
“What is your question, Sir Jake?”
“Last night.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you, ah- did you make it, all the way?”
Taylor looked like she’d been slapped, suddenly sober.
“Oh- you- um. Look, I’m so sorry. If anything got on the seat” (at this, she glanced down quickly at her legs) “I’ll pay for it, I was hoping you didn’t even notice, and I just really had to go, and I was scared with the truck thing...”
“Babe.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s okay.”
Taylor said nothing, for a moment.
“Thanks,” she said.
Jake said nothing, for a moment.
“That actually wasn’t why I was asking.”
He plunged onward.
“I want you to wet yourself, again. For me.”
Taylor was staring it him, mouth agape.
“Right now?”
Jake laughed so hard he started coughing a little.
“When we get home, if you can wait this time.”
Taylor looked at Jake across the front of the car. This Jake, her Jake, Captain Control, Knight of Normalness, wanted her to piss herself? (“Again.”, a little voice reminded her). Was this a fetish thing? Some kind of power move? Was he just fucking with her? And the way he’d said it, like he was asking to borrow a pencil, like she owed it to him. She felt angry. Also a little aroused. Also like she had to pee pretty badly. Just, a lot going on right now.
In all the time she’d known him, this was the first time she felt like she’d seen anything real from him. She felt safe with him, felt like he was someone she could rely on- that was half the reason they’d started dating, after the disaster that was her last relationship. But this- this was a stranger sitting across from her, and it was goddamn fascinating. She felt her bladder swell a little, and thanked God she’d changed out of the shorts- they’d be crushing that thing like a guillotine. Would she even be able to do it? She’d peed in her bathing suit, in the ocean, everyone did that, but in her panties, in front of someone? She imagined that, imagined him staring at her, vulnerable, disgraced, dirty. She felt a warmth, and it wasn’t piss this time.
Maybe this, Taylor decided, was what was missing. |
The only sound in the car was a radio ad, for truck tires or something. Taylor was staring at him. Jake felt a cold little knot of fear form in his chest. Had this been the right time? There was never a right time, but there were definitely better and worse times. Was this a worse time? She looked like she was thinking, like she was trying to write an essay or something. Could he play it off as a joke? No, he was in too deep for that. She hadn’t said no, exactly. She hadn’t said anything. He turned back to the road, noticed his foot pressing the accelerator, forced himself to lift off the pedal, be cool, be cool.
“Why do you want that?” Taylor said, looking very serious. “For me to pee myself, I mean.”, she added.
Jake gave a little nervous laugh. “It’s not like a thing I have or anything,” he said, “I just thought we could try it just- I don’t know.”
“I’ll try it.”, Taylor said. “I don’t know if I can, y’know, do it, in front of somebody, but I’ll try it.”
Jake let out a breath. “Okay, good. Thanks.” He licked his teeth for a moment. “You want me to change the music, or anything?”
“No.”, Taylor said.
She leaned her seat back a bit, found an angle that felt right. If she lifted her hips a little, it was like she could actually feel her bladder, a little tense balloon inside her, but otherwise it just felt like an ache, a continuous pressure. She’d gone through all the initial stages at the restaurant- the first insistent tingle that you could ignore till it went away, then the slight “reminder” urge, then that swelling feeling that told you the real game was about to start. When they’d stood up to leave the table, she’d had to clench her muscles a bit, but then Jake had already been moving, and she didn’t know where the bathrooms were, and and and…
Well, she could have asked Jake to wait. She could hold it for the thirty-minute drive back to the house, anyway. It felt almost… better this way. She wasn’t some little miserable thing at the mercy of fate, she was holding it because she chose to. When they got home, she could choose to wet her panties for Jake, or piss in the toilet, or keep holding it (obviously, not forever, but hey, maybe for a while). She smiled, uncrossed her legs, and spread them a little, felt the urge increase. Her choice. She felt a little flutter in her chest, had to clench her muscles a little harder.
She still felt the tequila in the margaritas, like a warm fog over her whole body. She could sure as hell feel the rest of the margaritas, too, as her kidneys were furiously reminding her, but the alcohol helped, that sort of warm indifference that told you you’d be fine if you had four beers than stood in the front row at a concert for three hours, then loosened your inhibitions enough that the desperate pissing behind someone’s car door afterwards because you knew after one look you weren’t going to be able to hold it for the whole bathroom line didn’t feel shameful until afterwards.
She thought about that, that incredibly intense relief, then sat up, readjusted the seat, pressed her thighs together and grabbed the hem of her dress with both hands. “You alright?” Jake asked. She smiled again- “I’m fine.”
Within another ten minutes, she was rocking back and forth, slightly but constantly. She didn’t think her bladder could fill up this fast. She felt a little more sober now, and her bladder felt stretched, bursting, like both those fucking bottomless margaritas were just sitting down there, in storage- which was exactly true, if you thought about it. Taylor looked at Jake, saw him staring fixedly at the road, and jammed a hand against her crotch hard, let out a little involuntary sigh. The house couldn’t be that much further, could it? She looked back at Jake.
“How much longer?” Taylor asked, her voice strained.
Jake looked over, looked back at the highway. “About ten more minutes.”, he said.
“Okay,” Taylor said, “right when we get there let’s um, let’s do it. I’m ready.”
Jake tapped a few fingers against the steering wheel.
“Well, we don’t necessarily have to rush.”
The last ten minutes dragged by. Her urge seemed to have plateaued at “my pelvis is an aquarium but there aren’t any leaks”, and Taylor quietly thanked God or Buddha or whoever dealt with that sort of thing. She heard the highway change to gravel, felt a slight déjà vu, almost laughed but thought better of it. Jake parked the car, shut his door, came around and opened hers. She stepped out, straightened up to do so, got both feet on the ground and immediately bent forward again, hand under her dress, two fingers pressing hard, no shame anymore. She looked up at Jake.
“So, should I just, do it here, or something?” Taylor asked.
Jake focused on breathing. Look at her. Just fucking look at her. Her whole body crying out, her controlling it, looking at him, pleading, “Am I allowed to do it here? Do I have permission to do it here?”
He looked at Taylor, really looked. Her hair long, brushed, glossy, falling over her shoulders. The dark, supple leather of the jacket over her slim shoulders, the red sundress with the tiny little flower pattern bunched up where her arm reached underneath trying to physically control herself, to force herself to hold on. Her pale thighs- were they already a little wet? Was that why she was so eager? Her brown eyes with that slight hint of green, looking at him, begging. “I’m grateful for this, you know,” he said, “and I need you to listen to me very carefully.” “Look around,” he said.
Taylor glanced around at the horizon, looked back at him, biting just a little into her lip.
“You want to pee, right Taylor?”
She nodded.
“Can you say it? Can you say that’s what you want to do?”
“I want to go pee,” she said, eyes deer-in-the-headlights wide, the hand in her crotch moving a little, rubbing,
“Okay,” Jake said, “if that’s what you want, squat down, here.”
Taylor took her hand away from between her legs, crossed them tightly and bent down a little. She stepped a little to the side, then squatted down, her bladder protesting the compression and surging towards the anticipated relief. She reached for her panties, breathed in…
“I said squat, not pee.” Jake said.
Taylor clenched her bladder muscles with everything she had, both hands diving for her crotch. She looked up at Jake.
“Get on your knees.” Jake said.
She slowly adjusted herself forward onto her knees, one hand steadying herself against the car, the other now inside her panties pressing directly against her outlet.
Jake took a step closer, put a hand on her head, ran it through her hair, withdrew it.
“Do you want to pee, Taylor?”
“Yes.”, she said, trembling.
He thrust his hand into his jeans, fiddled with the button and zipper with the other, finally managed to stuff his already stiff member out through the fly of his slightly tattered boxers. He parted her lips with his left hand, guided his cock between them with the right. He closed his eyes.
“Then let go, babe,” he said, “just let go.”
She did. She unclenched her muscles, reached up and grabbed the car door handle, licked around the tip of Jake’s cock and pissed. She could hear it splashing on the gravel and she knew it was probably going to fuck up her sandals and she didn’t care and her other hand was rubbing her clit and her piss was on her fingers and he was in her mouth and she closed her eyes and she didn’t know if she was going to cry or come or what but fuck it was cold. She could taste a little precum and she laughed a little on the inside and this thing wasn’t going to be very good if it made him into a one-pump-chump and he was saying something but she didn’t care.
He put one arm out, both, leaned against the car, moaned. He could hear her stream hitting the ground and he could feel her tongue caressing him and he could feel the cold metal of the car on his fingers and the cold night air on his neck and he could feel everything. Fuck fuck fuck he couldn’t tell if he was saying it or thinking it this whole thing was so fucked oh God. He felt his cock tense, felt his load shooting out, felt like it was goddamn ripping through him. He stumbled back, sat down, laid back, felt a little piss on his ankles didn’t care. She crawled towards him, panties abandoned somewhere by the car, straddled his face, her hair hanging down in his eyes and her dress going every which way and then the smell of piss and her sweet mound. He tongued her lips with abandon, got one hand around and grabbed her ass, the other reaching up, just grazing a nipple, found it, running light circles with the thumb. He felt her shudder- really felt it, pussycat got your tongue, hah, and she slid off him and her sandal damn near kicked him in the balls and then they were lying there side by side kissing, just kissing.
There was a long silence. The stars twinkled overhead- always so many stars, in the desert.
“We’re going to hell for that.” Taylor said.
“Yep.” Jake replied.
“I was joking,” Taylor said, “are you joking?”
“Still worth it.” he said. With some difficulty, he hefted himself up onto his elbows, looked over at Taylor.
“It is goddamn cold, though, and as the gentleman I have to offer you the first shower.”
------------
(wanted to put this at the end of the chapter so it wouldn't break up the flow, but
bonk
I send myself to horny jail) |
Taylor tensed, from her little painted toes, to her thighs pressed tight together under her pencil skirt, to her balled fist pressed hard against the desk, to her teeth biting down against her shiny glossed lower lip.
Why was she doing this, again?
She blinked, refocused on the spreadsheet on the monitor in front of her, brushed away a stray strand of hair. Her bladder was insistent, nagging, reminding her this was a bad idea and what the hell was she doing and why why why. Truthfully, she didn’t know why. It scared her to think about why. It made her stomach hurt and gave her little gasping butterflies and scared the ever-loving daylights out of her if for one second she tried to think about why. But here she was. Her headphones whispered in her ear, her fingers clattered determinedly on the keyboard, life went on. She was a grown woman sitting at a desk in an office at eleven in the morning trying to edit quarterly reports and she had to pee really damn bad and she was just sitting here and damn it felt good but why?
She stood up halfway, peered over the cubicle forest like a muskrat in a nature documentary. Nature. Rivers. Waterfalls. She cringed, eyed the bathroom across the office, cringed a little again, pressed her thighs together. She’d wait till 11:30, and then she would go over there, and like a perfectly normal adult, she would pee. Nothing sexual about it, nothing weird, it was just… inconvenient to go all the time, is all. Inconvenient! Her chest fluttered. Back to quarterly reports. Inflow, outflow… the time really did start to fly. She sipped her water bottle, BPA-free, high quality. She tasted each little slightly metal-tanged mouthful. God it felt good. God-
“Taylor?”
Taylor jerked back in her seat. Laura Greenwood, Laura Greenwood CPA, Laura Greenwood President CPA, looked down at her.
“Did I startle you?”, Laura said, smiling.
Taylor ran her hand through her hair. “Oh yeah,” she said, “sorry, I’m sorry, I just got caught up…” frick frick frick what now frick “the reports…”
Laura continued to smile down at her, beatific, unruffled. “Well, go ahead and print them out. The Kinsey and Co gentlemen have just arrived, as scheduled, and we don’t want to keep them waiting, do we?”
Taylor bobbed her head up and down like a rubber duck in a bath. “Oh yeah let me just-“
Laura’s smile faded majestically into a regal frown, a setting sun.
“Taylor, the meeting is scheduled for now. They do a lot of business with us, and you need to be there now.”
Taylor swallowed, printed off the documents. Laura kept smiling that crippling smile. Taylor stood up, felt the weight in her bladder for a moment, tensed her legs, kept as still as she could.
“Let’s go.” Laura said.
Same smile.
Jake sat, cross-legged, overalls stained, facing the block of metal on the floor in front of him. His hands were clasped together, pointer fingers steepled. He was sweaty. He had a slight headache, and his eyes were narrowed.
“Tell me what your problem is.” he said, to the block of completely inert metal.
“Tell why you’re being like this.” he repeated, to the totally inanimate object twenty inches in front of his face.
He laid back, arms outstretched.
“God fucking damn it.” he said, to no one in particular.
After he and Taylor had gotten back from the trip, he’d looked forward to the chance to get back in the shop, clear his head. Not to think things through- the opposite really. In here was his sanctum, his monastery, the one place he could not think, just do. Except that one rich asshole client had come in and given him this one rich asshole job and he couldn’t do it. He had read every manual, every stupid Internet car forum, he had done everything, and that stupid piece of shit worthless hell demon engine block was staring back at him and he felt angry tears welling in his eyes and he couldn’t fucking do it. His stomach was growlingly empty, he was thirsty, and he’d had to piss for four hours, which seemed contrary to the thirsty thing but who knew. He came to his hands and knees, peered out the blinds. Was it morning? Who said it was allowed to be morning? He showered up, pissed in the shower, drove himself to breakfast out, a small luxury. Time to think, or not think. He pushed the remnants of his eggs around the plate, sipped his coffee, thought of Taylor, smiled a little. She’d be at work, tapping away, busy little bee. He thought back to the trip, the desert. No need to think on that. Back to the lab, then.
Taylor sat, legs crossed, dress clean and sleek, eyes riveted to the charmingly retro analog clock on the wall. Tick tock. Tick. Tock. She explained the quarterly reports to the Ken doll consultant boys, eyeballs floating. She sat oh-so-patiently through their presentation, bladder pulsing, her womanhood throbbing in all the wrong (right) right (wrong) ways. She felt the liquid from her swollen bladder creep down towards escape, then retreat, again and again and again. She thought back to the trip, the desert. No need to think on that. She did anyway. Everyone stood up. Were they shaking hands now?
Taylor stood up, legs shaky, grin plastered to her face. She said thank you and exchanged business cards and expressed hope for their future cooperation and she wanted to fucking scream. Laura shook hands again with Consultant Boy Prime, stepped out the door. Taylor followed, left foot, right foot, step by step, gliding across the room. Someone said something, she mumbled, nodded politely. She stepped into the hallway, glanced down at the restroom, just saw a glimpse of Laura’s dangling earrings, Laura’s platinum blonde hair as the door. Clicked. Shut.
FFFFF F F F F-
"Are you alright?”, a tall, well-dressed, pearly smile consultant boy asked. Ben. His name was Ben.
Taylor’s head swung up, smile on. “Oh, I’m just tired.”, she said.
Ben stood there. “Well if you wanted to get some coffee or something, we’re actually going to lunch after this. Laura said she would come. Are you waiting on her?”
“I’m busy.” Taylor said.
“Oh, I’m sure she won’t mi-“
Taylor clenched a fist behind her back, looked him in the eye.
“I’m really, really busy. It’s been great to meet all of you, and I am really, very busy.”
She didn’t hear what he said next. Her legs were moving of their own accord, pushing her down the hallway, past the locked bathroom, to the back door. The restaurant across the street? The grocery store two blocks over? Could she drive? She felt a tiny little spurt dampen the white cotton of her panties, broke into an awkward half jog, pushed through the door into the little fenced loading area. No warehouse people. Lunch break. Thank Christ. She heard a little patter hit the concrete, and had just the presence of mind to spread her legs as she, a twenty-five year old woman who had been holding her pee since six forty five that morning and had two coffees and a water bottle and a stupid idiot meeting, started to completely piss herself in an alleyway. The pee just kept coming and coming, soaking her underwear, running down her legs, pooling at her feet. Her bladder hurt and she thought it would never end but the relief was so good and she was as wet as a river in every way and oh Jesus she was peeing her pants at work.
Taylor started to cry.
Jake stepped out of his car, basked for a moment in the blazing sunshine. He eyed the garage, licked his lips in anticipation, stepped forward- and his phone buzzed. He rolled his eyes, kept walking forward, pushed open the side door- the client could go to hell, he had work to do- and his phone buzzed. He glanced at it for an instant- Taylor, probably bored at the office again- set the phone on a counter, rolled his sleeves up and went back to work.
Taylor stared down at her phone. She wanted to sit down, but that would definitely squish pee into the ass of a dress that she was certain was already at risk, so she was sort of awkwardly leaned against the wall, legs slightly apart, switching her gaze between the puddle of slowly evaporating piss in the middle of the alleyway and the phone that was definitely not saying what she really really needed it to say. Jake was not responding. Jake was not responding, and the warehouse people would be back soon, and Laura was probably looking for her to say some bitchy condescending backhanded thing about the meeting, and she was so doomed. She almost forgot to feel humiliated and sad and terrified because she felt so in awe of the massive degree to which she was totally doomed. She wanted to break down sobbing. She wanted to run away screaming, and somehow slough off her body and her life and the degree to which she was currently so incredibly, terribly doomed. But the fact was she was here now, and nobody was coming to help her, and she was Taylor Amelia Russo, and shit was going to hit the fan if she didn’t do something about it NOW.
Think. Think about it like a work project like those stupid Ken boy- well some of them were kind of cute- WRONG TIME her mind screamed. Think. Plan. She made a list, an Action Agenda Laura would have called it.
Problem One. She was standing in soaked white cotton panties, and if she moved the wrong way the pee was going to get on her dress and that was pretty much the only clothes she had right now.
She bent over awkwardly and carefully, glanced around furtively, stepped out of her shoes, slid her wet panties down her legs, cringing all the while.
Problem One Point Five. She was standing in an alleyway holding a pair of pee-soaked panties in her hands oh God gross gross gross she flung them away.
Problem Two. She was standing in an alleyway in a dress and nothing else with the wind gently flapping against her piss-coated, bare, freshly-shaven pussy staring at a puddle of pee, some shoes, and a pair of wet panties.
Problem Three. She was doomed.
Laura wiped gently, flushed the toilet, and stood up. She washed her hands carefully, adjusted her pearls in the mirror, checked her makeup- all was well. She unlocked the door, favored Aaron and his team with a beaming smile, and looked around for Taylor. No use. The girl was probably off scrolling through Instagram in a closet somewhere, as usual. Children had no sense of responsibility these days, and that’s what Taylor was, a twenty-something child, no discipline, unmarried, probably screwing that boyfriend of hers like a rabbit. He seemed sweet, if only he had the sense to find someone a little more respectable. She strolled down the hallway, and at a half-nod to Aaron the Kinsey & Co fellows followed. There was an unassuming wood door by the exit to the office, and Laura paused only briefly to jiggle the knob, confirming it was locked, before they headed to lunch. No one had been inside fiddling with the security cameras. Couldn’t be too careful, with kids these days.
Taylor stared at the puddle. There was… a lot of pee, and she felt a little proud, then back to horrified. She glanced around rapidly. Could she just leave it there? Would it all go away? Would anyone even know what it was? There was a big cardboard box sitting in the corner of the alley. Taylor looked inside- just a can of WD40 and an old rag. She was suddenly keenly aware of the wet streaks down her legs, looked at the oily rag, shuddered. She heard a car engine. Thinking as fast as she could, Taylor grabbed the whole box, set it down in the middle of the puddle- it mostly covered it? The smell! She grabbed the lubricant, sprayed it around, filled the air with tangy aerosol. She heard footsteps. She stared at her soaked panties, sitting on the ground like a dead squirrel where she’d thrown them. Taylor picked up the rag, picked up the panties with the rag, turned back-
“Hey! You can’t be back here!” It was Alex. She could work with that. She turned around.
“Oh hey, sorry”- she stuttered for a moment- “Laura just wanted me to grab something.”
Alex stood there, looking her up and down. “I didn’t realize it was you,” he said. “You still can’t be back here, we got safety regulations, you know?”. He looked down at the box. “What happened with this?”
Taylor flushed bright red. “The oil was leaking or something, I tried to clean it up, but…” She showed him the rag for a second, remembered, slammed her hand back down to her side.
“Hmm.” Alex said, chewing at his lip.
“Mm-hmm.” Taylor said, her face hot, her thighs wet and slowly drying, her own wet underwear squelching inside the rag in her palm.
A few more seconds passed.
“You can’t be back here though.” Alex said, with an air of finality.
“I’m so sorry,” Taylor said, “I won’t do it again.”
A few more seconds passed, and Taylor began her careful retreat back into the office. She came back into the blissfully air-conditioned hallway, opened the blissfully unlocked bathroom door, triple checked it was locked behind her, curled up with her back to the door, and laughed and cried. |
The sun was setting slowly outside the garage windows. Jake wiped the sweat from his brow. He patted the engine, firmly but not unkindly, and started packing up his tools. Socket wrench, screwdriver, multimeter- he paused, frowned. The multimeter had been acting weird, so he had downloaded the manufacturer’s app on… on- where had he put his phone? He had… ah hell. Taylor had texted him about… something, and he had been focused on the work, oh hell. He washed his hands, went out to the little lobby, checked his phone, the battery almost dead.
Taylor, 1:37pm: “hey can you come pick me up from work”
Taylor, 1:39pm: “babe please”
Taylor, 1:48pm: “please please please this is not funny”
Taylor, 5:43pm: “hey”
Taylor, 5:43pm: “do you want to come over tonight?”
Jake weighed his options. He was dead tired, and he didn’t terribly want to see her, or for her to see him like this. Plus, whatever she’d been texting him about had been more serious than he’d guessed. Taylor would be angry about him ignoring her, and she’d act like it was fine and be snippy as hell all night. But she had some right to be mad, and… and he missed her a little. He texted back.
Jake, 6:15pm: “Yeah, sure.”
Jake, 6:16pm: “Everything OK?”
Taylor, 6:30pm: “it worked itself out :)”
So it was “pretend-it’s-fine” Taylor tonight. He slipped into the driver’s seat of his car, clicked on the AC and the radio, tapped her apartment’s address into his phone. Traffic was shitty downtown, shockingly. Jake rolled his eyes and turned onto the road.
Taylor stood in the shower, the water running down all along her skin. Her whole body tingled. She closed her eyes, imagined herself sitting desperate in that meeting, remembered the piss gushing out in the alleyway- in the alleyway! She rubbed harder along her labia, leaned against the shower wall, gasped, swallowed a little water, coughed awkwardly.
She hooked the tip of a finger gently inside herself, ran little circles around the inside circumference of her slit. So bad, so bad, so baaaaaaaaa-ah-ah. Her breath came in short gasps. Her dark brown hair, almost black, clung to her neck and shoulders in wet, tangled locks. Her thumb met her clit, and sent a shock straight up her spine. Fuck that bitch Laura no don’t think about Laura goddamn Laura. So controlling. Control. Jake liked control. Jake didn’t know she liked this this much.
She pictured Jake, his rough, lean, body, his stern face, slowed her fingers down just a little. Jake always so calm, sooooo in control. She thought about him in the work jeans he liked, Jake so fucking arrogant so sure of everything, thought about him grabbing his cock, twisting in desperation. She felt the tide starting to build. She slipped her middle finger a little deeper inside herself, put a little more pressure on her thumb, slower tighter circles. Pressure. She couldn’t hold the pressure she peed outside like a stupid animal bad bad bad could he hold the pressure? Maybe- the orgasm wouldn’t be stopped anymore, it hit her like a brick, shimmering through her arms and legs, setting her nipples aflame, crescendoing in her sopping cunt. She sank to her knees for what felt like the tenth time that day, let the hot water run all along her body, just laid there. She could see stars, blinked.
Taylor shut off the water, and just sat in the bathtub for a while, catching her breath. She lifted herself up, legs shaking, wrapped herself in a towel, and went out to the kitchen. She poured herself a nice, big glass of white wine, picked at some leftover almonds and salad. How to do this?
I want to piss myself again for you- easy enough, they’d been there done that, and she damn well knew he liked it, even if he hadn’t brought it up again. What happened in the desert stayed in the desert, or something. I pissed myself pretty much in public and I loved it- that was her business, she didn’t need him for that anyway.
I want you to get desperate for me- maybe a harder sell. It was basically fair- she’d done the same thing for him, right? But Jake- Jake didn’t like to feel out of control, ever. Jake had some very specific ideas about what being a man was, and it was nice sometimes when he offered to drive or buy dinner or whatever, but… Jake didn’t like to feel out of control. And how did she even know she liked it? She’d thought about it just now… maybe a little before just now, but she’d never seen him desperate, never seen him act like he cared bathrooms existed. Taylor chewed on an almond. This, truly, was a mystery. Her phone screen lit up- he was fifteen minutes away, he was frustrated with the traffic. It was a long drive. And unlike Taylor, Jake never got worried and stopped at the bathroom before a long drive.
Hmm, Taylor thought, chewing one more almond.
Hmm.
Jake pulled into the parking garage for Taylor’s apartments, his eyes narrowed, his grip on the wheel tight. The radio was blaring… something, and the AC was up. His bladder was reminding him he hadn’t used the restroom after all the work, he’d been distracted about the texts- whatever. He pulled into one of the guest spots, got out of the car, banged his head, fucking goddamn piece of shit fuckity damn. He waited for the elevator, glaring at it. He took a deep breath.
Taylor’s apartment complex always gave him the creeps- too whitewashed, too clean, too modern, too obviously new-money fake. He looked down at his sweaty white t-shirt, his jeans with the old oil stains, grimaced. The clomping sound of his work boots followed him all the way down the hall, and he clomped a little harder just for the hell of it. He reached- and Taylor opened the door.
“Hey”, he said.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I knew?”, she said, smiling wide at him.
He squinted at her. “Recently acquired psychic powers,” he said, deadpan.
“Exactly,” she said, and took his hand and led him within.
The apartment was more or less as he’d last seen it- generic IKEA furnishings, embroidered sorority pillow and non embroidered non-sorority pillows strewn across the couch, pitcher of water on the counter. Jake glanced across the apartment at the door to the bathroom, cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see your text, I was just working, and…” he waved his hand vaguely.
“It’s fine,” Taylor called back to him, flipping through the cabinets, making a drink or something? “Seriously, it’s fine, I totally handled it.”
Jake sort of pursed his lips and blinked, because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. “Well, that’s good.” he said, crushingly aware of how inane it sounded.
“What exactly happened?”, Jake said, and Taylor froze.
She stood there for a moment, hand clasped to the cold metal of the cabinet door, thinking. Where to start? How to do this? Where to start?
“I had a meeting at work,” she said.
Jake nodded sagely.
“I had a meeting at work and I peed myself outside because I had to go really bad and my boss wouldn’t let me and I’m scared really bad but I really liked it and also would you pee your pants for me if I asked you to like not right now but I just think it’s fair also I peed my pants at work I don’t know if I said that,” Taylor said.
Jake nodded sagely.
Jake was beginning to wonder if he had hit his head harder than he realized getting out of the car. He nodded again, and realized he was starting to look like an idiot, so he pulled one of the barstools out and sat down, hands flat against the cool granite counter. Taylor stood in the kitchen nook, looking at him very expectantly. He nodded one more time, lifted a hand, and stroked his stubbly beard.
“So you… wet yourself, at work.”
“Yes.”
“And this was a positive thing.”
“Sort of.” Taylor’s head bobbed from side to side.
“And you want me to wet myself, for you.”
“Yes.” Taylor said.
“Why?” Jake said.
Taylor felt a moment of resentment flare in her chest, alongside the slow burn of the alcohol from earlier. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the cabinets. “You never told me why,” she said sulkily.
Jake gestured vaguely, again. “I mean, why all of it?”
“Why do you have to ask why?” Taylor said instead of just doing something for me for once she trailed off inside her head.
Jake felt very, very tired.
“Whatever,” he said.
“I’m sorry.” Taylor said.
Jake looked up. “How was your day?”
Taylor stood up straight, walked over, and leaned against the bar. “I actually did pee myself at work. Like, that happened.” She felt tears start to well in her eyes, felt Jake take her hand, gently.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Jake stood up, and moved around the bar, and held her, and Taylor started to cry, really cry. For what felt like the tenth time that day. After a little while they were sitting on the couch, and Jake was gently stroking her hair, and she was in his arms, a hand gently laid against his warm chest.
“I totally fucked up at work today,” he said.
Taylor looked up at him. “Did you pee all over the ground, and panic and have to hide it, and then sit there for three more hours like nothing happened?”
“No,” Jake shook his head, “but I still can’t figure out how in the fucking world to fix that engine for that Aaron guy, and I have like three days before my ass is grass.”
“Maybe we just suck,” Taylor said, cuddling closer to him. “Maybe we just suck at everything and we’re just gonna stay on this couch and never ever leave.”
“I’d like to use the restroom at some point,” Jake said, “but other than that that sounds fine.”
“Baby, please stay.”, Taylor said, sliding her hand down to his stomach, tapping a lazy finger. “I thought you could just hold it forever. Aren’t you the big strong man?”, she said, a touch of laughter in her voice.
“Taylor,” Jake said, “you don’t have to be like that about it.”
Taylor pulled away, drew herself up. Jake felt suddenly cold and rather worried, in addition to the now insistent pressure in his bladder.
“Babe,” Taylor said, “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” As if I could, a little voice in her whispered. “But would you be okay to try it sometime, just for me, just this once?” She felt slightly pitiful- as usual, the voice whispered.
“Maybe,” Jake said. “For you.”
He did not leave the couch, though Taylor had to at least twice, especially when it was decided more wine was in order. They watched a few movies- some stoner comedy, because Taylor liked it, and then a romcom, because Jake said he thought Taylor would like it. Jake shifted a few times under the blankets, and once Taylor thought she caught him adjusting himself- wouldn’t you like that in your mouth right now a very different voice said, but he otherwise showed no signs of desperation or particular discomfort, and Taylor felt disappointed but rather relieved. She was totally drained, and when he suggested they call it a night she was about ready to melt into the pillows, as he gently led her to her bed. She closed her eyes, and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
The clock showed 12:16am, and Jake had to piss so fucking badly. He stroked his cock some, since getting hard seemed to make it less intense, but the moment he left off his dick felt like a fully inflated water balloon, just aching to burst. He could actually see his bladder sticking out under his waistband, just slightly. He nudged Taylor, heard her murmur sleepily, nudged her again, harder.
“Taylor,” he said.
“mmfmmh,” she replied
“Taylor,” he said, more insistently.
She rolled towards him, propped herself up on her elbow, and she looked so ridiculous with bedhead every which way that he laughed, even though he had to grab the shaft of his cock as he did it in case some piss snuck out.
“I need to use the restroom, very badly. That’s… what you wanted, right?”
A smile spread along Taylor’s face.
“Fuck me first,” she said.
“Taylor, really,” Jake said.
She reached a hand under the covers, grabbed his cock for a moment, he gasped a little.
“Come on,” she said, feeling bolder. “Fuck me hard. Fuck me like it hurts.” She shoved the covers down, kicked them off the bed, went to her hands and knees. “Fuck me like an animal.”
“Taylor, I really…”
“Fucking fuck me.”
Jake’s throat felt very dry. He sat up, cautiously, holding his shaft, wincing as his bladder contracted with each movement. Taylor wriggled her ass and spread her legs a little apart, her face pressed against the soft pillows. He entered her from behind, her left hand slowly guiding him in, and they gasped in unison. He thrusted- pleasure. He pulled back, and the feeling of desperation returned- pain. Pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain, pleasurepainpleasurepain-
Jake choked. “I can’t hold it!” he said.
“Just do it!” Taylor said.
“I can’t!”
“Just do it, I don’t care about the fucking bed oh fucking God just do it!”
Jake pulled out of her, aimed at a random spot on the bed, pissed away the last God knew how many hours of piss. He must have gone thirty seconds before reality hit him like a freight train, and he cut off the flow, wincing in pain.
“Oh my God Taylor I’m so sorry, the bed”
Taylor rolled over, her hair splayed out around her head, her pussy glistening, her breasts heaving in the dim moonlight. She grabbed Jake, pulled him down awkwardly into a tangle of bodies.
“Just let it go,” she whispered to him. “For once in your life, just let it go.”
Jake shuddered in her arms as he pissed the last of his overfull bladder onto the already soaked bed. Taylor’s hands were warm around his chest, but he felt cold.
“Taylor, I am so sorry” he said.
“It’s fine,” Taylor said, “I mean it was better than fine, that was-“
“Bad.” Jake said. “That was not okay and it needs to not happen again.”
“Jake, it’s my bed, who else has to be okay with it?”
“It’s not about who, it’s that some things are inherently not okay, and that wasn’t, alright? Fuck!”
Taylor sat up, squinting. “What is your deal right now?”, she said, sleepily exasperated.
Jake positively hissed back. “My deal is I show up to your apartment and you’re all crying and guilty and manipulative and we drink a little bit and six hours later I am sitting in your bed covered in my own piss. That is a pretty straightforward summary of my fucking deal.”
“I’m manipulative?” Taylor whispered furiously “I ask you for like, one thing, ever, and I’m manipulative? You think I felt like a box of sunshine when I was pissing on the ground sucking your dick on the gravel in redneck land?”
“One thing ever? One thing ever? So every time I drive you around and bring you flowers and watch dumbass movies with you that’s all just, one thing to you?” Jake retorted.
Taylor reared up, her voice rising a little. “Yeah, because it bothers you sooooo much when you get to act like Mr. Nineteen Fifties I control everything I’m gonna tell Taylor what to do!”
Jake’s eyes flashed, and his voice dropped to a dangerous low. “You know, it doesn’t. It doesn’t bother me. I’m just shocked that when you hang out with your college friends reading Cosmopolitan and eating, fucking, ‘Fuck the Patriarchy’ cupcakes you can’t tell them it doesn’t bother you either, because you’re twenty-fucking-five and you’re still too afraid to make your own decisions!”
“You want me to decide something?” Taylor said, yelling now. “You want me to decide something? How about I decide you should get the fuck out, okay? How about that?”
“Fine!” Jake yelled.
There was a moment of quiet.
“I’m showering first, though,” Jake said.
“Fine.” Taylor said.
Taylor could hear the shower running. She could feel the warm piss, all over her bed. She could feel the slight rawness in her womanhood, where Jake had fucked her, as requested, “hard”. She could feel the sinking feeling in her stomach that she might have seen this coming. She could hear it when the shower shut off, and she could hear it when the door to her apartment slammed shut. She couldn’t cry. She couldn’t even make a sound, as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
~hey it's an imaginary chapter break where two replies got automatically merged~
Jake sat on the garage floor. He picked up a little bit of gravel, threw it at the engine block in the center of the room, watched it clink off. Grabbed a screw, a washer, a little snip of woodchip- clink, clink, tap. If he just kept doing things, he wouldn’t have to think. Pace around. Grab something, small. Clink. He grabbed some paper towels, wiped down the counters, wiped down the stool, the workbench. Clink. Don’t think. Don’t think.
He kicked the workbench hard, swore loudly, sighed with relief as the pain flooded in. He slapped his arm with his hand, felt self-conscious at the sound, did it again to feel the red welt flush, dug his nails along his wrist. He looked at the pointed metal corner of the workbench- no, too stupid, too melodramatic, too many consequences.
Consequences.
Last night had consequences.
He couldn’t look Taylor in the eye again, that was for sure. Another one bites the dust. If he hadn’t picked a fight in the middle of the night if he hadn’t been that way with her didn’t you like it a voice said
“Fuck you!” he yelled, to the empty garage.
He couldn’t look himself in the eye.
Why would anyone like something like that? It was so gross, so… biological. He’d cleaned fish less disgustingly animalistic. Why would she ask him that-
Why had he asked her that? On the trip. In the desert. Was this her way of getting back at him? Why had he gone along with it didn’t you like it shut up shut up shut up. Oh god, the bed. He’d cleaned up more or less at Taylor’s, and then he’d driven the hour and a half midnight no-traffic ride back to his house, and he’d stood in the shower for forty-five minutes and he’d woken up and come here and he just couldn’t feel clean. It was like he was dirty on the inside, like he needed to rip his own heart out like an engine that needed fixing and scrub it raw until the filth came loose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten. He opened them and he was still him and everything that had happened had still happened and he was still in the garage and dirty and oh god, the fucking bed. Was she going to ask him to pay for that? Fuck! Fuckity shit fuck fuck
Jake felt suddenly winded, the burst of panic receding, sat down again. He was still behind on work, naturally, but he didn’t have any more energy to be afraid. Did anyone know? Had Taylor told anyone? Would she tell anyone?
The blinds on the windows were shut tight, the door locked, his tools neatly arranged, this was still his sanctum, his fortress, his prison. He shut his eyes and counted to ten.
Taylor’s head was pounding. She opened her eyes, blinked blearily, shut them again. Too bright. The bed was cold, wet. Had she spilled something? Had she been drinking? Had she wet the bed- wouldn’t be the first time, stupid Spring Formal, had
Oh, crap.
Taylor half-opened her eyes.
The morning light was shining through the window, bright, dainty, fairytale-esque. Her covers were in a matted clump at the bottom of the bed, her naked body sprawled across the upper half. The air was cold, and the bed was wet and cold, and- oh, and she had to piss like hell, she now realized, jamming her legs together. She looked at the soaked-in stain on the bed, pondered her pounding head and sore muscles, made an executive decision. She sighed gently, closed her eyes again as her little stream soaked into the mattress cover. Maybe she didn’t have to wake up. Maybe this was a dream still- it was a dream where she was peeing the bed, then, but dream/no dream was lose-lose on that count.
Oh, fricking crap.
Had Jake really left? She poked her head up, stared warily through the door into the living room, heard nothing, saw nothing, just two bottles of wine left standing open on the coffee table. She closed her eyes again, sank back down into the pillows.
She felt- weirdly calm. Relieved, even. He’d stay away for a few days, he’d go do whatever he did when they fought, and he’d come back. He always came back. And she’d apologize, and he’d do his stupid annoying “I acknowledge you were hurt” non-apology, and he’d come back. She’d get the covers to the laundry- was the mattress okay? There had been a lot of pee- she laughed, and OH CRAP WORK.
Taylor sat bolt upright. What had she been thinking? She had work! She had work and oh God oh work- it crashed over her like a wave. Alex! Laura! Could they have gone through the trash, found the rag, found her- she cringed- panties? Not that Alex would mind hmph oh hell she had work.
She leapt into the shower, bit her lip as she saw one of Jake’s curly hairs in the drain, cleaned herself as best she could, threw a random dress over her body, and burst out the door. She got her hair managed in traffic, checked her face in the glove box mirror, decided it was a great day for the raw, natural, no-makeup look. She pulled into a parking spot, slipped out the car door- only 9:37- one more great escape for Taylor- looked up and saw Laura standing dead in the doorway, arms folded.
Taylor looked at Laura, expectantly.
Laura looked at Taylor, expectantly.
There was an awkward silence.
“A paragon of professionalism, as always,” Laura said, sneering so hard Taylor would have laughed if she hadn’t felt so afraid.
Taylor said nothing.
“I presume you have the accounts ready for our trip today?” Laura said.
Taylor felt her mouth working, open a little then closed a little, like a stranded fish.
“I took the liberty of checking them and printing them off myself,” Laura said, “since you were… otherwise engaged.”, the sneer so intense it wanted to leap off Laura’s face and bite Taylor right on the nose.
“Shall we?” Laura said.
Taylor nodded.
They walked over to Laura’s car, a new-model SUV painted a rich, deep bronze, the seats brown leather, immaculately clean. Taylor felt a moment of gratitude for the sensible flats she’d chosen at random as she hefted herself into the passenger seat. Laura droned on about something receivable something contract, and Taylor nodded politely as they turned onto the highway.
Apparently they were visiting an engineering firm, for which they did the accounting, which also did some kind of IT work for Laura. The amount of money flowing both ways had resulted in some kind of hiccup, and Laura was going to smooth things over with the big boss there. Taylor was being brought along to “learn how things are done”, which sounded to her like one more excuse for Laura to use her as a secretary.
They rode along the highway for a while, and the buildings changed from dense hyper-suburbia to real high rises- not too far from where Taylor had started the morning. They took an exit, a left, a right, and ended up in front of a nine-story black glass edifice with “Larssen Design Partners” stenciled in solemn silver above the entrance. Taylor swallowed.
They walked through the doors, Taylor trailing just behind Laura, and into a cavernous lobby, the AC on full blast. A prim young woman with olive skin and bleached blonde hair sat behind a round desk, and Taylor took one of the chairs as Laura went over to check them in. She could hear little snippets of the conversation-
“…of course, Mrs. Greenwood.”
“will Jeffrey be…?”
“conference room three…”
“…just going to pop off to the restroom, I’m not the one who made us late.”
Loud and clear, that last part. Taylor smiled nervously at the receptionist, who didn’t smile back, just went back to her work. Laura disappeared around a corner, and came back a few minutes later. She started walking down one of the hallways sprouting off the lobby, and it took Taylor a few seconds to realize this time she was meant to follow. The hallways on the main floor were black marble, very imposing, and it came as a surprise when the conference room they entered was all grey carpet and cheap furniture, basically the same as their own. Laura snarled for an instant, then fixed her face into that same plastered-on smile.
Two men sat at the far side of the table- one older, nice suit, combed-back black hair, the other younger, rumpled flannel, ugly brown belt over mom jeans. Taylor had to hold back a laugh when she realized she was looking at the other side’s version of her- did they hold pet shows for Best Status Symbol? She’d beat that scruffy geek any day. Good for Laura.
Once it became clear Taylor was not expected to speak, other than to supply numbers from a binder Laura had brought, the meeting went swiftly. There had been a simple accounting mixup, on the engineers’ end, and Laura seemed to have this magical way of making them realize it without ever directly saying they were wrong. Taylor was beginning to wonder if she really could learn something when the nicely-dressed man suddenly raised a hand.
“Laura, I understand you also wanted to discuss- the other project?”- he eyed Taylor.
“Of course, James,” Laura said, “at an appropriate time.”
Nice suit man- James- turned to scruffy geek boy.
“Joshua, why don’t you give Mrs. Greenwood’s assistant a little tour?”
Taylor and scruffy g- Joshua both opened their mouths to protest, and were both silenced summarily by a wave from Laura.
“That sounds wonderful, James. You have to help the next generation learn, you know?”
Assistant, Taylor thought angrily all the way down the black marble hallway. Assistant.
Joshua did nothing to defy her initial impression of him, as he led her through a long dusty series of cardboard displays, between small windows overlooking people in white coats. He seemed most excitable when he talked about their… server infrastructure? Cloud computer? Taylor nodded and oohed appreciatively at what seemed like the right moments, and Joshua seemed to like it. They got to chatting after a while, from boredom if nothing else, and he seemed more interested in all the details of the accounting they did than Taylor was. Taylor felt a certain deja vu from the math major boys in her college statistics classes, and decided to take pity.
“So, besides like, all the math stuff,” she interrupted, “our office actually gets kinda crazy sometimes. Laura’s like, a total control freak.”
“Really?” Joshua said, his face curiously and suddenly blank.
Taylor pressed on. “Yeah, like, nothing moves in that building without her knowing. It’s like she has eyes in the back of her head. And if you’re three minutes late for one little thing, she’s all over you, all like ‘oh, you’re so unprofessional’, and ‘oh, back in my day’.”
“Kinda old-fashioned, huh?” Joshua said.
“Yeah, I guess.”
They came to the end of the hallway, to a bank of elevators, stepped into one. It was a little cold. Joshua looked at Taylor, his eyes a little wide, his lips a little parted.
“Can I tell you something?”, he said, leaning in a little.
Nope, nope, nope, Taylor thought.
“Tell me what?”, Taylor said, inching away.
“It’s a secret,” he said, eyes a little wider.
Taylor had come to realize over time that too-friendly young women in dresses had this effect on nervous, wiry-haired men with thick glasses. He leaned dangerously close.
“Laura paid us to install secret cameras at you guys’s office!” Joshua said.
“I’m so sorry, I have a boyfriend!” Taylor said at the same time, stepping back.
“What?” they said, simultaneously.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Joshua said.
“I didn’t mean-“
“No, I didn’t mean-“
“Secret cameras?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re serious?” Taylor said, her mind running like wildfire through the previous day’s events.
Joshua grinned, back in his element.
“You want to see?”
He pressed a button on the elevator, and they went down, down, down, definitely past the lobby. Joshua burst out the doors the moment they opened, and Taylor found herself half-running to keep up as he ducked left and right through featureless white hallways, past miles of neatly bundled cables, to a beige door blank besides a keypad and a handle.
“Where even are we?” Taylor whispered.
“My empire.” Joshua whispered back, without a hint of irony.
Joshua tapped some numbers on the keypad, and the door opened into a small, dark, dusty room, crammed from floor to ceiling with cables, computers, and monitors. There was a large, soft, black chair in the center, and Joshua sat down in it like he was coming home. Taylor leaned against the one patch of bare wall, arms crossed, as the door creaked shut. Joshua delicately puttered away at his keyboard while the monitors came to life, and just when she was convinced he’d forgotten she was there, he started to speak.
“About six months ago, Laura came to us asking us to put hidden- the official word is ‘low visibility’, but hidden- cameras in her office building. People do that all the time- worried about theft, liability, safety violations. In this state-“ he waved a furious hand “totally legal.”
He continued.
“Normally, when we install cameras, we talk with the other company’s IT department about where to route the cloud backup feed- in case somebody breaks in and smashes the cameras, or smashes the on-site server, or whatever. Sometimes the answer is nowhere, if they’re doing really hush-hush stuff, but usually corporate guys want as much proof in as many places as possible, because Legal’s up their ass about it.” Joshua said.
“Okay,” Taylor said.
“But you guys don’t have a dedicated IT department- small business, yada yada, and Laura wants this done quiet, so when we ask where to route the backup feed, she waves her hand and says ‘do whatever you want, you stupid nerd gremlins, I fart in your general direction’” Joshua continued, finishing in a bad mock-French accent.
“Why would she say that?” Taylor said.
“It’s a reference to- never mind. Anyway, so we do the default backup option, because it makes us money, which is…” he did a little drumroll on the desk.
“Can you get to the point?”
“Which is backing up all the footage here.”
“That’s horrible!” Taylor said, screwing up her face in disgust. “So you’re just like, creeping on everyone all the time?”
“It’s the 21st century!”, Joshua said. “Facebook’s creeping on you, Google’s creeping on you, privacy is a lie. We don’t sell the information or anything- we just keep it here. And it’s also on the local server at the site, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Taylor said, bitterly. She remembered why she was here. “Do you, um, do you know where specifically Laura put cameras?”
“No,” Joshua said, smiling, “but we can find out.”
He tapped at the keyboard again, furiously this time. Windows flickered and shifted, scrolled around.
“What’s your company’s name again?”
“Greenwood & Associates.”
“That would make you one of the associates?”
Taylor snorted. “Sure.”
“Got it. The cameras aren’t specifically labeled with locations- you recognize any of these?”
“That’s the main area, that’s the break room, the meeting room- great. That’s Laura’s office, and that’s…”
Taylor froze.
Joshua continued unfazed.“The warehouse yard or something, right? Little small, but you can see people loading and unloading stuff. Look, if you were smoking weed or something back there, who cares? They usually don’t check these cameras unless something actually happens."
“Laura checks them,” Taylor said, deadly serious. “I promise you, Laura checks them. I need to see if something is on there, from yesterday.”
“Great,” Joshua said, “I’ll just go back a little bit-“
“I need to see it alone!” Taylor said, louder than she’d intended.
Joshua swiveled in the chair, a broad grin on his face.
“A little more than smoking the chronic, huh?”
“I need to see it alone.” Taylor said, insistently.
“I’m not leaving you alone with this,” Joshua said, stern now. “I could get in enough trouble as it is.”
There was a moment of silence, then Taylor broke into a downright predatory grin.
“Yeah,” she said, “yeah, you could.”
“Oh screw you-“
“I’m just an innocent assistant-“
“No fricking way-“
“I didn’t know those things he was showing me were company secrets- is that okay?” Taylor said, exaggeratedly batting her eyelashes.
Joshua sat, silent, for a little while, then got up and opened the door. “Three minutes,” he said. “Three minutes, and if you break it…”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Right, because my tiny accountant woman brain can’t use your nice computer.”
Joshua turned on his heel- “I didn’t mean it like a sexist th-!“
Taylor shut the door. The interface was simple, and she clicked the timestamp back- she shuddered. Holy crap, had it actually only been twenty-four hours? She felt tired. There she was, on the big fancy screen- walking out of the meeting room- oh God, had she really looked like that? Little computer screen her was positively waddling, her legs crushed together under her skirt. Stupid oblivious consultant people. Then nothing in the hallway, then coming out into the alley… And there she was, pissing and pissing and pissing. She clicked ahead, guessed it was nearly a minute from when she lost it to when she finished. There was a knock on the door- she closed the window.
“You said three minutes.” Taylor said.
“Your boss is looking for you.” Joshua said, not quite keeping the triumph or the fear out of his voice.
“How do I delete it?” Taylor hissed.
“Get into the local server, then it’s like any other file,” Joshua said. “Your boss would have a password and maybe two-factor. I’ll handle the copy here.”
Taylor pointed two fingers at her face, then at him, then back to her- the I’m watching you. “Elevator’s two lefts and a right,” Joshua said, and she sped off down the hallway.
Joshua sat in the chair for a long time, looking at the single freeze frame of Taylor wetting herself in the warehouse yard. She didn’t look ashamed, or scared. She looked- relieved, obviously, but also a little- into it? It wasn’t his thing, but there were probably freaks on the Internet who loved that stuff- people would get off to anything these days. Whatever. Delete.
Edited July 29, 2022 by nestorius
(see edit history) |
The bus bounced over the bumps in the road as shook everyone on board. Kelly, Lily, and Kenya sat close in one seat together with their big breasts squeezing and pointing out as they pushed against each other in their seats. Sweat glistening off their hot bodies as their tits and bodies bounced. Lily was blonde and sensitive, Kelly was a brunette from a rich family with lots of class as she typed away on her iPhone 47. Kenya was your basic black girl with wide hips.
Their college colors were tight red and blue. Red for their short shorts, blue for their tops.
“We almost there? Like seriously?” Said Kenya.
“Almost,” said Lily. “Hopefully soon.” She began to turn red. Her foot tapping. “I gotta go to the bathroom.” She looked worried as Kenya gushed down the rest of her water, the swishing and draining making her foot tap faster and squirm in her seat. Kenya and Kelly squirmed as well as their abdomens pushed out from pressure .
“Mm, girl I gotta go too,” said Kenya.
“We’re here!” Their coach yelled .
“Like about time,” said Kelly who pushed her hand between her legs. The bud continue to bounce on the bumpy road which only made their discomfort worse.
Kenya went “ooooooooh!” As she bounced in her seat, her slik sweaty skin rub against the other two girls, and their hips waved side to side squeezing down the center to keep their pee holes closed.
Everyone raced off the bus, and the three friends headed for the college school bathroom. The three girls trampled around each other legs crossing as they pushed each other. They reached the doors of the building snd to their horror, it was locked tight. That’s when their jaws dropped and eyes widened, Lily’s with tears as they saw a sign saying the building was closed for covid restrictions
They had to hold it!
“Oh my god!!!” Said Kelly bouncing.
Lily crossed her legs and hopped as Kenya started stepping around in circles to deal with her bursting bladder.
Kenya said. “Ok, well they better have a place somewhere cause I’m gonna-“
But a whistle was blown.
Coach said, “Girls! Meet is starting soon. Come on get your asses to the track, now! Or I’m benching you the rest of the season.”
Lily walked up to coach to whisper. “Sorry coach it just Umm....we kind of have to go and because fo the pandemic they locked the building so we can’t go to the bathroom.”
The coach Rudely said “oh is that so? So you don’t feel like you can compete?”
All three girls nodded hoping their coach was understanding.
Sadly that wasn’t the case.
Coach brought out a water bottle and started splashing some on the ground making all the girls bounce and squirm, their asses and tits jiggling wide. “Get to the track ladies!” And with that, they all cried and ran to the track painfully due o their heavy bladders.
All the girls were lined up, Kenya, Kelly and Lily crouched over like the rest and squinted as pressure added on to their balloons of bladders.
“On your Mark, get set...” none of the girls were even paying attention as they wiggled their asses making guys in the audience horny, but none the less when he yelled “GO!” And shot the horn, each girl leaked a little bit into their tight shorts. Little dots formed on each with Kelly still leaking a little like a faucet unable to stop. “Oh man...” she squealed as they all headed off.
This had been what they were working to all year, the sweat, the blisters, the uncomfortable foot rubs from their boyfriends who hated wetterz and were watching right now. The nerves were cramping their stomach and making their heads spin. Their bladders feeling like a boxer punched them in the abdomen each step, and this was a race so there was many.
Lily squealed as she scratched through her head crossing one legs after the other, almost crying due to her sensitivity.
Kelly was spitting out polish curses as she felt her pussy and ass might explode as she pushed ahead of each racer, but Kenya sprinted up, bounced her sweaty hip against Lily and made her tumble into the other racers.
The coach blew his whistle as that was a penalty. But she didn’t stop, that’s when Kelly noticed why Kenya was speeding up. She sprinted ahead and as lily noticed, she got up and did too . Each of the three girls squinting in their faces, rubbing their shorts into their pussies to make cameltoes and keep themselves shut, but their bladders spasm. A few yards form the finish line there was a porta potty hidden behind the bleachers which they noticed held audience members squirming in their black leggings unaware also.
“It’s mine!” Said lily speeding up.
“Fuck no, it’s mine!” Said Kelly waving out both her arms as she took the lead, but then started to fall behind as she felt herself leaking she shoved her fingers back deep into her vaginia to keep herself plugged. It was so intense. Kenya was crying in pain, her sexy black ass swinging back and forth as she reached out and tried to catch up.
“I am NOT missing this!” Kenya said.
“No, mine!” They all kept saying among each other as their bladders reached critical explosive levels.
Eventually Lily, given her small size, sprinkled into her panties and by the time she noticed she stopped, frozen in fear as her pussy shot out a large canon of urine, soaking herself in front of everyone. She froze snd shook, unable to take in the humiliation as everyone watched.
With her bladder about to pop next, Kelly speeded up and ran right into the potty locking Kenya out.
“No NO!” Yelled Kenya. She banged on the door but it wa son use. “Oh no...l” here it was coming she couldn’t take it anymore. Her bladder burst, and like Lily she wet herself in humiliation.
All the black leggings audience members raced down too and found themselves stumped seeing the wetting girl, lost control as well.
Kelly walked out crying too though she did make it...”I have a big wet spot!” Which showed across her crotch.
End. |
**Author note**
So, here we start the certain story.
Please note:
I try to add an “own” kingdom, so don’t be wondered if it doesn’t went as an “original/known” in their jobs and how they act.
I also will try to set a character concept for the main characters.
Tip: Read carefully! Everything I leave unanswered I used to grab in future chapters again, some of them are important for the story line itself.
Some chapters will be story relevant, some not. I want to build everything up like a book.
The first chapters will turn out shorter to get some experience, later I want to hit an XX-XX word goal for every chapter.
Feel free to leave wishes what you want to read! When I like it I may put it in a later chapter. Feedback is also very welcome!
For now that’s all from my side-hope you enjoy the story!
A princess’s story
» 1. Planning a free day
…
The sun was rising, wrapped the darkness into a soft light. The darkness was gone, the birds start to chirp and let everyone know a new day started.
Dalaria wake up as the light softly stroke her eyes, she had a few troubles to get her eyes open after she accustom with the darkness during sleep.
The young woman yawned, sit up and look out the window. It seemed to be an a clear sky, no rain or other bad weather.
While she start to begin less tired she notice that she got a free day for herself.
»Dalaria, listen. We’re out tomorrow to visit a kingdom. You can do whatever you want this day. But make sure to be home for dinner. I told the soldiers that no one can enter our property while we’re out. I think you deserved a day for you, you work really hard the last months. But never forget your role when you meet someone. And please stay on our property. When you go out of the castle make sure that somone accompanied you.«
This was what her father told her yesterday. He make sure that his parents would be home again in the late afternoon.
It was her first time that she had the whole castle for herself, and a free day where she can do whatever she wanted. For real, she had a lot of free time. But mostly someone watched what she was doing to make sure that the princess was alright.
Most of the time it was really annoying, but it give situations in her past where she was lucky that someone was around her to keep her safe…
Because she was to lazy for stand up she think about what she will do this day.
In her head bounced a ton of ideas how she could spend her time well.
After a bit of decision problems she decided to get out for a long walk, enjoy the nature around her. They castle had a massive garden and a few smaller paths they went around the castle like a circuit.
This path was ideal to go, it also give another way that lead in the woods. Only a large garden door separate the woods from the royal property. Where want to go out this way they have to ask for the key. It’s very well locked, nothing you could open that easily without.
This way was used for riding, Dalaria herself never use this way because she was quite feared of horses since a painfully accident in her childhood. Luckily her parents accept that she didn’t want to and didn’t force her to get on the animals back again even if her mother try to motivate her when her daughter was younger.
Whatever, Dalaria continued planning her day.
She decided to eat breakfast first, get dressed, read in her books while she wait for lunch and take the walk after.
The princess loved to had everything planned, she hate it when something doesn’t went how it should. That bring her out of her concept!
Finally she made her way out of her soft bed, stand in the middle of her huge bedroom. Her room was very simple, a bigger bed, a writing desk and tons of bookshelf with books in it. Since she was young she adore reading and collect over the years a ton of them, Dalaria read everything she can grab, some of her books she read over and over again.The genre she loved the most where fantasy adventures, some of them was such creative!
But for now she stand up, went to the bathroom and doing her morning routine. First she use the toilet, take a shower, brush her teeth and for the last she put her decent make up on.
She was more a naturally type, didn’t like tons of make up on her face. In general Dalaria didn’t really care for her high position as princess. She didn’t want an extra treatment just because of her title! She want to get liked for the person who she was, not for the family she was born in.
Before she leave the small room she brushes her curly hair and take one final look into the mirror to check her appearance.
Satisfied the young woman leave the bathroom to go the long hallway back which was decorated with a lot of old drawings, statues and vaces to enter her bedroom once again.
Straight she went to her brown wardrobe that stand in a corner and checked her dresses. After a longer decision she put an wine-red dress out and look at it before she quickly changed her clothes from her clothing dress to the beautiful dress she picked to wear today. The princess really like this dress, it’s one of her most comfortable ones! She used to wear this often, besides comfort it was pretty. Once again she check her appearance in the mirror who reflect a young friendly looking lady. Her hair sits perfect, the decent make up pronounced her beautiful eyes and the dress sits perfect on her normal sized body and the dress wrapped perfectly around her slight curves.
Dalaria went off the mirror, go to the end of the long halls with several doors. This hall was for only for her family, on the other side was the beds for their employees. Everyone who works here have the chance to live here. Of course they had rules to follow on their free time spending in this castle. They aren’t allowed to go in every room and must be ready when someone from the family would call them. Besides that they had a lot of freedom here.
Dalaria took the staircase down, went to the dinner room and enter the kitchen if someone would be here. The redhead saw their cook, a man who was in his middle 30’s. He was cleaning the kitchen, he was one that doesn’t life here, came to his work times and went home after. As much she know he had a wife and kids. She like to do small-talk with the employees. She love to hear what the people lived for a life outside their works, she always was interested in that what they tell about their life!
“Good morning”, she says
“Good morning, Mrs Dalaria”, he replied and look to her “What would you like to get for your breakfast and dinner?”, he also knew her parents wasn’t there. Normally they would tell him before he went home what they wanted to eat for the next day.
“For breakfast I would love to get a simple bread with jam today. And to drink an orange juice, please! For dinner...surprise me! Oh, and when you want you can eat with me instead of eating alone later”, she smiled. Not like their parents she didn’t want to order everything. Sometimes it was nice to get something you didn’t expect and get stuff on your own instead of asking a maid or butler. She always felt rude asking too much to do even it’s their job. The employees adore her friendly character and the fact she give them a lot more room then her parents does.
For Dalaria the people where sort of friends to talk with, have fun and sometimes request something from them. To her parents they only was workers. That was the huge different that the young princess quickly went to the favorite to work with. Except Eilia, her personal maid enjoyed a lot of free time for herself. But because they are close friends shes often was around her to talk and spending time with.
“Of course! I will make thoughts what I will cook you for dinner. I will make your requested breakfast now, please have a bit patience. And yes, I would really like to when you want”, it was a rare thing that the workers eat with the royal family. They eat after the family, for him, he only eat dinner with the others. Breakfast and for night he used to eat at home.
“Thank you!”, with this she went out of the kitchen and take her seat on the gigantic table. Even with visitors the stairs around war hardly to fill. Within the same time as always Eilia went to the dinner room and stand next to her friend.
“Good morning, Dal”
“Good morning! Do you have a good night?”
“Yeah! And you?”
“Me too, thanks!”, she sit on the chair next to the princess, she knew that she was able to eat with her this day. Normally she was also one of them that doesn't eat with them even if they're close friends. That's the rules from the King and Queen.
“You already know what you want to do this day? It’s so silence here today”
“Yes, I want to go for a walk later. And yes, definitive. It’s the first time it’s been this empty”
“Oh that sound great! "
While they keep talking about casual stuff the cook came to serve their breakfast. Because he knew that Eilia would be able to eat with Dalaria he get her the same food to. Their workers was able to eat the same things like the family ordered, only in a few cases he had to serve another meal later. That was the expensive ones.
Because he cook for the family several years they started a while back not to let someone taste the food first if everything was alright, it was a high symbol of trust that really honors him.
The both womans starts eat the breakfast, it was a simple this one but it tastes very good! Dalaria doesn’t always need the best food. Sometimes a simple one be good to! The maid was the first who was done, stay on her seat until the princess was done too and stand up. She thanked the cook for the meal and went upstairs, followed by Eilia.
“Do you want to go now or later?”
“Later. I want to read in my books until dinner. After that, I want to go outside”
“Alright! When you need something call me”, she smiled and went to the workers hall where her room was. This hall was same as the family hall, decorated how much it was possible.
Dalaria looked at her until she goes her way too, straight up in her room where she spent lot of her time. She checked the book case where the books she doesn’t read yet. All of the cases was sorted as well, it was important to keep the view. She took a big book out that she started a few days ago, a fantasy roman. It was one of this where you followed the heroes journey to defeat the evil. But it had an interesting plot as the hero turns out that he was the bad guy! She couldn’t wait to read more how the story goes on. She took the book and lay herself in her comfortable bad.
Hours went by, she tied up in the lines and focused only to read on what happens next. When she came to an new chapter she set her bookmark there and lay it on the table beside the bed. As the book was away she noticed a familiar feeling in her belly. A slight need to use the bathroom. The princess looked to the clock, she didn’t noticed how many hours went by.
She had an a good half hour left before dinner would be served.
My parents are out!
She thought do herself. Got a new idea, a fantasy she often image about this happening. She felt naughty about her thoughts.
Maybe I should drink a bit more before dinner…!
…
Edited May 12, 2021 by IneedAname
(see edit history) |
A princess’s story
» 2. the planned walk
…
She don’t hesitate long went out of her room to go to the last doors. There was a room where glasses been placed because it’s a longer way to go down. It was easier to fill a cup of water in the bathroom when someone get thirsty in the halls.
For Dalaria it was super simple on that way to drink a good amount of water without anyone notice. Her parents only get in their bedroom when they went to bed, so they didn’t notice how often she went for a glass water during the day. No one caught her yet, she was lucky for that but also surprised because she found herself often in holding mood. For real, she used every chance she get.
When she was young her parents was more strict to her get for get her into the role as princess, she can remember how often she was desperate when she was young, but always get denied to use the restroom on events. So she was forced to hold it until the events was done.
Her parents wanted to teach her that she shouldn’t drink too much on such events because she can’t leave until it’s over. It was a thing from respect that the royals have to stay. Somehow she begin enjoyed it and started holds even if she wasn’t forced to stay and could go easily. She liked the feeling and always feel naughty that she do something as a princess. The young woman also liked the thought that no one knew what she was doing secretly. She started with holding until she felt a slight urge before she would go to the restroom, meanwhile she enjoyed being fuller for a while, but always make sure that she could use a toilet before any drop would came out-she couldn’t risk that anyone noticed it!
She take a glass and went to the bathroom, turn on the grey sink and fill her glass. Within a few seconds the glass was empty, she fill it up again, turn off the sink and walk with the water in her room. She sit down on her chair, place the glass beside her and looked out from her window. It was a beautiful view, she can saw the gigantic garden from the castle.
A lot flowers was planted, the gardeners keep the garden beautiful.
The redhead smiled a bit, it always make her feel happy to see the beauty of nature. She decided to get her sketchbook and start to draw the view. The redhead tried this at least 10 times but always failed it. She can’t draw, she knew this. But she wanted to learn so she keep trying!
While she was drawing she continued take sips from her glass, she want to fill it up once more before she would go for dinner. She took the last sip before she go out to fill it up again and continued her drawing when the woman was back in her room. She sighed, her drawing looks awful! But she saw that she got better since her first one, that keeps her motivation up to finish this picture to get the more experience.
Her concentration get broke as she heard a soft knocking on her door before the maid went in, she felt free to do this after Dalaria allowed her to enter her room whenever she wanted to.
“Dinner will be done in 10 minutes”, Eilia told her
“Oh, nice! I really want to see what hes going to make us for dinner”
“Didn’t you order something you want?”, she sit on the princess’s bed, looked at her while she was standing up, take her glass and sit herself next to the maid.
“No, I give him free hand”, she took a sip from her water
“Oh, than I’m wondering too. He never had the choice earlier I think”
“I don’t think so too, my parents like to order everything as you know”, the redhead looked at her maid
“Oh and please...may you can take something to drink with you when we go for a walk?”
Eilia looked at the glass Dalaria hold in her hands, knowing what she wanted to do
“Another holding day?”
“Maybe a bit more…?”, Dalaria answered playful
“For real, I have to take the chance”
“...What? What you want to do?!”
“I want to..uh..wet myself if possible”
“What you will do when your parents notice it?! You can’t do this!”
“Oh come on, how should they know? Nobody is around, no one will see. And if I don’t wet myself on the walk I have to use the bathroom anyways. I can’t do this in the castle, it’s far to risky”
Eilia sighed, somehow she knew it’s not a good idea. But she agreed, she just hoped that her friend know what she’s doing
“Okay, I will fill up and water bottle and take it with me then”
“Lovely! I know you doesn’t let me hang”
“Do you have to go already?”
“Not at all, just a slightly need”
“Okay, do you want to go down now?”
She emptied her glass and placed it on her table, maybe she want to get another one when she’s home before her parents was and didn’t reach her goal.
“Yes, I’m ready!”
Both woman went down, got tasty spaghetti for dinner, something that Dalaria rarely got to eat.
After they had eaten Eilia fills up a bottle with water while Dalaria waited in the main hall to go. Her need get a bit stronger now, but nothing too much Man I really hope I will be ready soon..I never get such a chance once again! She thought to herself
“So, I’m ready, we can go now when you want”
“Alright, then let’s go!”
Both leave the castle and walk in the garden, it will take them around 2 hours to came back. The garden was bigger than he looked at a first time plus Dalaria like to sit on a bench and take a break when they walked this path. For Eilia it wasn’t something new, she went this path often with the redhead. And also nothing new that she went out on her holdings. But today she literally want to go to her limits, the maid knew that she planned very well, but always something unexpected could happen!
She just hoped they came home before the princess really would have an accident in her dress.
Dalaria’s urge didn’t changed most of the time, it frustrated her a bit, her hopes to do what she wanted got smaller by every minute that passed. They talked about several stuff on their way like friends does.
On some point the redhead felt her need increase
“Oh, finally! I’m getting fuller!”, it wasn’t that what she wanted but a begin.
“I’m glad it’s that late. It isn’t that long to the castle anymore”
“Why you can’t just one time agree with me?”, Dalaria asked playful
“Because I didn’t want to get yourself in trouble!”
“Sometimes I hate do be born as princess..it have it good sides and bad sides”
“Like mostly everything”
“Yes, that’s true”
“But at least you didn’t only see the bad sides of it”
“Yes, I can’t say I didn’t have a good life here”, the redhead stopped and took a seat on the white bench who stay in the garden The maid didn’t wait long and sit beside her, take a look at the beautiful green grasslands, the flowers and look the leaves from the trees rustle in the soft summer wind.
“Yes, that’s true. But you do a good job on your duty’s. I bet you will be a good queen one day, only the man is left”
“Yeah, sometimes I really want to be in a relationship. But I didn’t find one who I really like. Sure, I meet a lot of males. But all of them are not how I imagination a man! I want a man who see my character, not my look or my status”
“Yeah I can imagine that finding a man who want you and not the throne isn’t easy at all. But I’m sure you find one who loves you for that who you are”
“I really hope so! May you can give me the bottle, please?”
Eilia grabbed the bottle which she placed besides her and give it to the princess who took a large sip from it
“Hows your need?”
“Get a bit stronger. But I think I began to late with drinking. I had to do this after breakfast already. I lost several hours”
“I thought you already planned this yesterday”, she laughed a bit
“No, I have to do something and forgot that they leave the house. Plus it’s uncommon that my parents are out, no wonder that I forgot about my chance”
They continue talking, Dalaria emptied the bottle during this. While talking she felt that her need got more and more stronger, she rubbed her legs together and kept talking like everything is normal. Eilia didn’t even notice this, after doing so much holds near her parents she was sneaky with her movements.
She knew how much she can move her body to make holding easier and didn’t catch any attention. By her actual need she would use the bathroom if her parents would be home. It was her casual state she waited before it would get to risky to continue holding. She didn’t know how much more she could handle and goes the safety way not to get caught.
More water make their way into the princess’s bladder and she now shows more visible movements that she had to go. Eilia never saw her this doing and she knew she was fuller than usual
“Oh my god this feels great, I last time felt this as a kid!”, now she knew that she can waited longer on her usual holds. She only need to hide her need better, the redhead noticed that Eilia notice it.
“Should we go back?”
“No, let’s chill here longer”, Dalaria grinned, and didn’t hide her movements. Eilia knew it anywhere, so why hide it?
Eilia didn’t know exactly how to stand with this situation. It was hard to do like nothing happens! But somehow they go back to talking, on a point the princess put a hand in her crotch and shift her seat, she was visible uncomfortable. Before the maid could ask about it they hear a door open and closed from the distance
“Oh no...Why they didn’t have came 30 minutes later?”, Dalaria said frustrating, knowing that she have to use the toilet now.
“Then let’s go home”, Eilia said and stand up from the bench, put the empty bottle under her arm again
Dalaria felt a few dribbles escaping in her undies while she stands up from the bench. It was her first time that something went into her pants and dampen then a bit.
“I think I have to make my plans on another day real..”, Dalaria sighed, while keep holding herself but put her hands away when they walked near the windows “I think I should drink more before I leave the castle next time”
“You really want to do this, huh?”
“Yes! I really want! But for now..let’s check if my parents are home already”
Eilia was happy that she didn’t wet herself on the walk. She didn’t even knew that Dalaria lose a few drops a few seconds before. All her hopes from a good ending got destroyed as she open the main door and saw the princess parents and some royal looking man.
“Oh, just the right time!”, the Queen said as both went in “Dalaria, this is the King from the other kingdom, you may know him. He want to talk with us, you should stay too and listen what he have to say”
“N-now?”, Dalaria asked, pressed her legs together
“Yes, now. Why you ask?”
“We do it now, he have more stuff to do at home. Now follow us. It will be helpful for you later when you listen the conversation”, her father said with a strict voice, letting Dalaria know he wouldn’t let discuss with him.
Oh oh...i knew it was a bad idea. I always knew that she get one day into trouble with that! I told her this every single time!
Eilia thought to herself, she just hoped for the princess that the conversation wasn’t that long ...
Edited May 15, 2021 by IneedAname
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On this day in 2016, the greatest bus ride of my life occurred, well sorta.
(Disclaimer: this didn’t actually happen, but the general premiss is true, that is why it is in the fiction section. I will be building off of the true story which doesn’t actually include a wetting. Also the name of the girl in the story is made up to not reveal her true name. Enjoy the story!)
Home, a place I knew all too well. I place I desired to be at the time, but I knew I had to wait just 55 minutes in order to return to my abode.
The bus ride always felt annoyingly long, since I really had nothing to do if there wasn’t live baseball that I could track on my phone. I had no friends that I could talk to and my friend was at a tennis tournament so I couldn’t text him. So I knew this bus ride was going to be unbearably long for me. Little did I know was wrong about two things. One, this bus ride would be unbearably long for someone else, and two, that I was actually going to have the most exciting bus ride of my life.
What always made the bus ride great was the presence of my neighbor and acquaintance Emma. She was a blessing. She was the hottest girl I had ever met and talked to in middle school. My incompetent ass however, didn’t know the bad side of her that she never really exposed. At that point nothing else mattered for me than examining her body every day she went on my bus if she sat in front of me like the creep I was. She decided to sit in the seat to my left today, with her friend who I knew well for being an annoying girl who only cared about her social status rather than others. I knew I probably couldn’t look at her or, if I was lucky, talk to her. I decided to look at my phone as the bus started up and we started moving.
...
If you have ever been on an American school bus, you know that anyone in front of, beside, or behind you can easily be heard if they talk loud enough. I heard the two chatting and all of the sudden the beautiful voice of Emma’s utter the four most amazing words of all time, at least for me at the time: “I need to pee”. At this moment in time both my head and body reacted at the same time, as I tried to avoid turning my head and attempted to look like I didn’t hear anything. My mind and body agreed this bus ride was certainly going to get a lot better, my form of entertainment was here.
We reached the high school to pick up the students there and I caught a quick view of her state. It was bad, she was quivering like crazy. I knew deep down that I felt really bad for her, as suffering in any way is not meant to be enjoyed by anyone. At this moment however, any bit of my kink out weighted that tenfold. Emma definitely wasn’t the type of girl that would say astute statements like “I’m going to pee my pants”, or like “I’m literally going to pee myself”. She usually kept that to herself, which is why I knew when she kept telling her friend about her need that it was serious. It was just a matter of time before it was just her and me on the bus.
Ten stops later and it seemed like all hope was lost for me to witness something that I only dreamed of something, as I knew that after the bus dropped off Emma’s friend, we would only be about 20 minutes away from our stop which was the last one. We got to her friends stop which meant that Emma would likely start looking at her phone or out the window, meaning I could sneak quick peeks at her state. She looked bad, her legs were going in and out constantly, but I knew that 20 minutes would be almost no time, we needed at least 30. At this time I knew only a miracle would save this moment and make it the moment of my life at only 14 years old. Then, a pipe dream turned into a pipe result.
I don’t believe in superstition or stuff like that, but at that moment I could only describe it as a gracious spirit blessing me or dooming Emma. We reached the second to last stop 10 minutes later, which meant it was just us two. I knew she would make it unless we were stopped, and then suddenly, without warning, the bus broke down.
It was so sudden I’m pretty sure Emma leaked in her seat. Our bus driver yelled back to us, “hey guys, the bus is broken down, I’ll try to fix it but it might be a while.”
I looked over towards Emma, who looked back at me with a concerned look on her face. I knew this was my chance to swoop in with an act that would win an Emmy. “Hey Emma, are you good?”
She knew I probably already knew the problem. “I, just didn’t go to the bathroom before school.” Her face went bright red.
I tried to show her a caring and reassuring face to try and calm her down. “It’s ok, I’m sure this won’t take too long, and plus, it’s only a 5 minute drive from here.” I knew what I said was a lie and she knew it too. I tried to engage in small talk with her and pass the time which I wished never ended. And then, without warning, she interrupted me with the most euphoric lines I have ever taken into my mind.
”Hey Alex, I’m not going to make it. I’m going to pee my pants.” She said it outright and clearly, and I didn’t need it repeated a second time. At this moment I had to do the greatest act of my life to contain my pure excitement. I had a plan of action, but I knew I needed her help.
”It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone. I just need to know if you have a water bottle.”
She caught on to my plan and gave me her near full water bottle. I took it and spilled it all over her seat and the floor. At that moment she couldn’t hold it anymore. “Oh no, I’m peeing, it’s all coming.”
No video or story could compare to what I saw at that moment. What I saw was a river of pee flowing out onto the seat and hitting the floor. Emma’s face was as red as a crab and her jeans started to soak fully all around her bottom. It was breathtaking to say the least. I wish it never would have ended, but she finished after a minute or so. I knew it was her job now to finish the deed. She shouted to the bus driver, “Hey Chris, I just spilled my water, sorry.” Our bus driver didn’t seem to care, as he was preoccupied with trying to fix the bus.
We sat in silence for about 3 minutes before I decided to break it. “You know, I think I’m probably going to join the cross country team in high school next year, I heard they have a good coach.”
She looked at me dumbfounded. “So, you aren’t going to talk about this.” She gestured down to her mess.
I shrugged my shoulders, “meh.”
She looked at me like I saw a ghost. “I thought you would be disgusted.”
“Nah, it happens.” I knew I was never going to admit to her my true reaction to it, so I kept on. “It’s not your fault the bus broke down.”
That second I heard a click and the bus started up, we were heading home.
Thanks for reading! Sorry to any women who read this and think I’m a creep but hopefully you understand that I’m one of many, and that it’s just my and all of men’s nature. It’s literally one of the reasons that women and girls wear such amazing clothing. I’ve come to learn to avoid the looks and find the beauty in conversation. |
I waved happily looking at my mother as she walked quickly towards me pulling the large maroon colored trolley bag behind her. It had been a whole week without her at home as she had been off to Haridwar to stay at my uncle’s (her brother’s) place because of some family dispute going on between him and his wife. Now that the things were a bit under control, she was back home and finally I could have my favorite aloo ka parantha (Indian flat bread with spicy mashed potato stuffing) that was my mom’s signature dish.
As she neared, I could tell the unease on her face. It had been a 26-hour journey for her on that bus and I was certain that she was tired to the bone, but still she had somehow managed to look beautiful like she always did. Wearing a black silk sari with her hair left open, her heels were making her walk all the more gracious, but there was something that seemed different. I could sense that something was bothering her.
With a wide smile I ran to touch her feet (Indian custom to show respect to the elders) she blessed me by touching my head. Her loving touch on my hair sent positivity and happiness coursing through my body. I was so glad she was back home. I opened the door to the backseat of the car and she climbed in before I quickly loaded her large bag into the trunk. I got in behind the wheel and closed the door before we started our journey home. It was an hour and a half on the road and I hoped to make this the best of time with mummy after a week of her being absent from home, but as I looked at her through the rear view mirror inside the car, I could see the tension on her face.
“Mummy, are you alright?” I asked, she had not spoken a word since I had picked her up from the bus stand and I was now worried that something was seriously wrong back at my uncle’s place which was really bothering her.
“Y-Yes” she said, I noticed her lower lip trembling through the rearview mirror as she kept looking out of the window. I knew for certain now that something was not right. My mother who would leave no chance to shower me with love and appreciation was suddenly acting all aloof and worried.
I decided to drive silently for a while but kept taking timely glances at her through the mirror to make sure she was alright. Twenty minutes passed without any words being exchanged between us when suddenly I heard a groan from her. I looked again into the mirror and saw her sitting in a tilted posture to her right, with her hand on the seat to support her weight while her left hand holding her lower belly. Did she need the toilet?
“Mom are you alright?” I asked again.
“Yes-yes! Don’t worry, dear” she reassured me. Though it was becoming harder and harder for me to believe that she was in fact, alright.
I noticed after a while that she was now sitting with her legs crossed, rubbing her thigh up and down, a classic sign of needing the toilet.
“How is everything at college?” she asked suddenly, maybe to take her mind off from her need.
“Everything is fine mom,” I answered.
“..and tuitions? Did you skip any when I was not at home?” she asked.
“No mom,” I answered, “I want everyday.”
“Good.”
“How was your time on the bus?” I asked, “I hope you were comfortable…?”
“Yes-yes!” she answered with exaggerated chirpiness, “Just had too much to drink…”
There it was! My reserved and stiff mother had finally accepted that she had too much to drink on the bus. And we both knew the effect it invariably had on one’s bladder.
I tried to downplay it by looking back on the road and acting as if I did not care what was happening on the back seat of the car but there was nothing else that I could think of.
We drove on for another forty minutes without any happenstance other than my mother complaining after each bump that the car went through, but as soon as we entered the city traffic started to increase. My mother kept quiet during the entire drive but as we neared the middle of the city a huge backlog of cars and buses awaited us on the traffic signal.
“Oh, my God we are going to stop!” I heard my mother cry out from the backseat as she looked on at the barrage of vehicles waiting for the traffic jam to clear, “Oh, no!”
My heart was starting to race, my mother was really desperate for the toilets and she was stuck in the backseat of the car with nowhere to go! It felt like a dream come true! But then my heart sank when I heard the next words come out of her mouth.
“Oh, thank God!” I heard her say as I turned to see her looking out of the window at the temple intently. I seemed to have completely missed where we were. This was the temple we came to pray every Thursday and I knew they had toilets.
God had literally come down to save my mother. Dejection and disappointment caught on to me because I knew she was going to use them. “Stay here, I’ll be right back” she opened the door even before I could say anything and banged it shut before walking off quickly towards the temple, taking hurried baby steps. It was so funny watching her walk like that because it told volumes of how badly she needed to urinate and how she had left it unattended till it reached this point. The fact that she had decided to use the toilets at the temple premises rather than wait for the thirty minute journey home told enough of how desperate she was.
I sat for the next ten minutes in the traffic wondering where my mother was, while imagining the explosive relief coursing through her body when she might have pissed into a toilet. But as the traffic cleared and I continued to wait, I saw her walking back with the same panic and anxiety still written on her face. It was abundantly clear to me that she did not get to use the toilet.
“What happened?” I asked as she got back and climbed inside before closing the door.
“Aahh nothing, j-just their toilets are closed for cleaning…” she said bending forward as I suppose the pain become stronger in her bladder.
Those words and her actions took me to the seventh heaven, my exceedingly cultured, civilized and sophisticated mother had for the very first time admitted to me that she had gone to use the toilets which unfortunately were locked.
“What do you want to do?” I asked her.
“I don’t know, just drive me home” she ordered, “Hurry, please, hurry.”
I floored the accelerator when I heard that. All what mattered to me know was getting her home as soon as possible.
All the way home, my mother kept shifting her legs. Every red traffic light left her shaking with panic, and I could see the sweat on her brow and upper lip now. She absolutely would not be able to take much more. She was frantic, and I knew that she must have reached her limit.
We were in the last leg of our journey and I drove pretending like I did not know how desperate she was, but I was concerned. I wanted her to tell me if she wanted me to pull over, but nothing. I steeled myself and drove, hoping it was just in my head, but it was eating me from within. I wanted to know if she was alright, “Mummy, did you bring me the mango achaar (pickle) aunty made?” I loved my aunt’s raw mango achaar and had literally pleaded with my mother to bring a little with her when she came back.
She did not respond. She just kept looking out of the window with her face drowned in tension.
“Mummy?” I asked again, to which her train of thoughts suddenly broke.
“Y-Yes?” she asked startled.
“Did you bring me the mango achaar?”
“Y-yes..” she answered.
“Did you taste it before?” I asked again, “Was it good?”
She seemed unable to understand what I was asking, “I am fine..I-I..” she answered.
I was suddenly alarmed, “Mom, are you alright? Do you need anything?”
“Rajesh will go.. Rajesh… will …” Rajesh was her brother’s name. I was beginning to panic. I now knew certainly that my mother was very confused, she was facing trouble speaking, or understanding and was facing difficulty forming words. I knew it was an emergency.
I looked at her again through the mirror and saw her face was slightly dropping on one side. I could not believe how badly she needed to use the toilet but I knew that if this was a fight to save her dignity and pride, my mother was going to fight it to her last breath.
She was struggling to bottle up her piss like it was a matter of her life and death and was driving as fast as I could.
In the mirror, I could see the sheer horror and confusion on her face as I took the right turn to get on the road to our house. She did not know what was happening and was left shivering. I carefully pulled up to our house and my mother was suddenly active, “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she breathed, I could not mistake the gratefulness and agony in her voice. I could not believe how desperate she was.
As the car came to a halt in front of our home, she pulled the lever on the door to open it but when it did not budge she began to panic, “Oh, the door is locked! Locked!”
Struck with confusion and alarm I scrambled to unlock the door, but truth be told even I was drowned in panic and horror. I did not want to be the reason my mother could not make it to the toilet in time. I quickly undid the master lock on my door to release locks on all doors. As soon as she heard the click, she opened the door and almost jumped out. I followed her closely not wanting to miss any action. I quickly unlocked the front door and let her into the house.
I saw her hobbling to the toilet as fast as she could, she had to piss so badly that she could not even stand straight let alone walk, she opened the toilet door and rushed inside banging the door behind her with a loud thud without even bothering to lock it. It was finally over. My mother had finally received the dire salvation that she had needed for so long. I was proud that I had saved her just in the nick of time from great humiliation and had proved myself to be my mother’s good boy and her obedient son. But I was not happy. I really wanted to delay her visit to the toilet as long as I could, but it was too late for that now.
After a mere 3 to 4 seconds that she had vanished into the toilet, I heard the sound of a massive waterfall hitting the porcelain of the Indian Style commode of our toilet. I could not believe the sound that was coming from the toilet, it was like a bath tap turned full on, blasting the porcelain with the pressure of a literal fire hose. I could not imagine how she had managed to survive the entire ride inside the car from the bus stop till home with that amount of urgency.
The sound of her loud urination spoke to me more than my mother spoke in the car. It spoke to me of her absolute rage of having to hold her piss for so long, her mammoth frustration of not being able to do anything about it till now, her total helplessness in controlling the pressure, her sheer agony of not urinating for so long and lastly her monumental relief. The sound of her stream spoke so much to anyone who could get a chance to listen to it and cared enough to understand. I felt as if I had never understood my mother better. What she could not tell me in words, her massive stream told me in its noise. That was the day when I realized that it was only her exterior self that was so loving, caring, warm and nurturing towards everyone, but inside the privacy of the toilet she could produce a very violent piss.
All my years growing up, I had never seen my mother getting angry or agitated at anyone or anything, she always was so understanding and comforting to each and all that no matter what anyone said or did to her she never retaliated in annoyance, she had this habit of suppressing her anger as long as she could. I knew she did that because my mother was the one holding everything together, our family, our lives, our happiness. But as I got older I realized that even she needed to let out that anger that had been festering inside her for so long.
And today as I listened to her urinate so loudly inside the toilet, I knew certainly that this was her anger. The anger she had held back for so many years. The frustration of being the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect daughter-in-law, the unwilling sacrifices she had been making, everything was pouring out. I knew as I heard her give a long heartfelt sigh of relief from inside.
When she finally came out of the toilet, my mother had become a completely different person. Though she was greatly humiliated by what had transpired she seemed to be much more relaxed now that her bladder was deflated. I was in absolute shock that it had taken her almost 12 minutes to empty it out.
What was she thinking? Why didn’t she tell me she had to use the toilet so badly when we met at the bus stand. No woman in her right mind would have stepped inside the car needing to urinate as much as she did, but it was a huge gamble that she took and somehow it paid off. It was sheer luck and nothing else.
I was still in literal shock, shivering from its aftermath. I could not even imagine how long she must have been corking it up to need the toilet this much!
Strangely she made me vegetable cutlets that evening for snacks and vegetable pulav for dinner. She never made that until and unless it was a special occasion or she wanted to thank me for some big help. I wondered if she was thanking me for saving her today from the colossal humiliation that awaited her had she not reached the toilet on time.
That night when I was about to go to sleep my mother came into my room, she seemed a bit nervous a first before she mustered up the courage, “Please don’t tell anyone about what happened today and I hope you forget everything too” she said, in a straight cold voice that spoke of her anxiousness. She kept looking towards the window in embarrassment as she stood next to my bed with her arms crossed around her chest.
“It was the biggest mistake of my life and I never want to think about it ever again, please” she continued. She feared that if I even slightly mentioned this to papa or my sister, she would never be able to live it down.
“No, of course not mummy,” I said, “I will never tell this to anyone.” So I zipped my mouth and decided never to tell anyone that my mother had set a world record for the longest toilet trip that day.
After that incident, all the other times I went to pick her up at the bus stand I never found her as desperate as she was that day. Maybe she had learned the lesson, albeit the hard way. |
Mary wanted to kick herself. The tall and pretty blonde-haired senior had been a basketball player for a lot of years and she really should have known better. As the Kennedy High School team bus makes it’s way through traffic on the way to Westdale High on this cold Friday night, Mary feels yet another intense surge from her bladder. As she had already been doing for a good portion of the trip, Mary clamps down hard to maintain control and to keep from wetting herself right there on the bus. As the long bus trip drags on, Mary most certainly did want to kick herself. She really should have known better than to get on the bus without having gone to the bathroom first.
As the tall and pretty basketball star -- her team’s leading scorer -- pushes back the urge from her bladder, it’s now her other bathroom need that causes her concern. Concern and also considerable discomfort. As her bowels now suddenly push for relief, Mary must shift her focus from tightened thigh muscles to keep from wetting herself to preventing herself from having an even worse kind of accident. With a strong feeling in the pit of her stomach, Mary feels a strong push as her bowel movement -- no doubt a large one -- starts to make it’s way out. And then as Mary clamps down and prevents the coming load from coming farther out of her, she feels her stomach cramp uncomfortably. As the pretty and popular high school senior fortunately remains in control of herself, she really does want to kick herself. If she had just gone to the girls’ room before getting on the bus, all this could have been avoided. “How could I have had to go both ways and still not gone to the bathroom before getting on the bus,” she thinks to herself.
But by now -- at least momentarily have successfully fought off both bathroom needs -- Mary takes a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. She tries to focus her attention on the game against Westdale -- the team that beat them last year for the state sectional championship. Mary always wants to win, but she wants to win this one more than she wants to win most. But as the pretty basketball star tries to focus on that, it all comes back to her that it should have made it even more important for her to take care of her bathrooms needs before getting on the bus. I mean, tonight of all nights, she certainly didn’t need a distraction like this. As Mary sits there on the bus contemplating her situation, she can hear in the back of her mind her coach saying and her mom saying to always pay the bathroom a visit before getting on the bus or getting into the car for a long trip.
But Mary’s sigh of relief with her bathroom needs having somewhat subsided is, of course, only short-lived. Mary knows full well -- as do we all -- that these needs don’t simply go away. Typically, these needs, when ignored, only come back even stronger.
It isn’t long before Mary is once again facing the need to move her bowels -- only this time quite a bit stronger than before. She suddenly feels the tip of what is surely a big load breach it’s confines inside her. The desperate girl clamps down with all her might -- desperately trying to stop the load’s progress and keep the bowel movement from going into her underwear or even worse. She clamps her butt cheeks tightly together to block it’s progress, she pushes herself down on the bus seat, and she twists her legs trying to get the best leverage -- anything to keep the bowel movement from coming out. She feels her stomach cramp badly. It’s no longer a matter of simply being uncomfortable. Keeping this bowel movement inside her is causing her outright pain. Somehow, though, Mary manages to stay in control. But she does fear that with that initial push this time, it may have come out far enough where the tip of it made contact with her panties -- to “touch cotton” as the saying goes. But she knows that she can’t worry about that now. She knows that if she doesn’t get to a toilet soon, it’s going to be a lot worse than just the tip of it touching her panties.
Again, Mary manages to win the battle against her bowel movement. Once gain, Mary breathes a sigh of relief with her need to go temporarily subsided. But once again -- almost as if on cue -- she then feels the urge from her bladder. The strong surge comes on quickly, just as Mary is able to slowly ease her grip on her bowels. This time a few squirts do escape before Mary can comfortably shift her control from her bowels to her bladder. Fortunately, she manages to keep in control of both but again, not before a few squirts escapes into her panties. The damage doesn’t seem so bad -- certainly not as bad as it could have been -- but it’s definitely enough that Mary can feel a bit of wetness in the crotch of her panties. That, and she still can’t be sure that her bowel movement hadn’t “touched cotton” before.
As Mary fights off this need as well, she really starts to wonder how much longer she can hold it in. She knows that if she doesn’t get herself to a toilet soon, the next round will only come on stronger than the previous one and she’ll be in serious danger of going in her pants at least one or perhaps both ways. She doesn’t want to ask the coach for a pit stop -- she doesn’t want to ask the coach to stop the bus somewhere so she can go to the bathroom -- but she wonders if that might be her only option at this point. She wonders if that might be her only option, to avoid going in her pants. But that’ll, of course, mean explaining her situation to the coach -- admitting to not having taken care of those needs before getting on the bus like she supposed to -- and there would be consequences to that. But then again, there would surely be consequences for her going in her pants as well. “I mean, wouldn’t that be proof as well of her not having gone before getting on the bus,” Mary reasons with herself. Mary obviously considers that it would be a whole lot better -- and obviously, a whole lot less embarrassing -- to get punished for the former rather than the latter.
But just as Mary decides to tell the coach of her desperate situation and ask for a pit stop, she suddenly hears a round of cheering on the bus. Looking up, Mary sees that Westdale High School is now in sight and her teammates cheer in anticipation. Mary doesn’t join in the cheer, but you can bet that she’s even happier than they are to finally be here.. She finds herself simply hoping against hope that her bladder and especially her bowels can wait just a little while longer. She knows that another surge from either of them will likely be stronger than before and she barely managed to hold it in before. She’s not confident that she could resist another surge from either of her bodily functions. And she knows that if the urge for both somehow manage to surge at the same time, it would surely be a disaster. As the bus pulls into the parking lot at Westdale High, Mary keeps telling herself that it won’t be long to a toilet now. She just hopes that her bladder and her bowels will be patient enough to wait until she can get there.
As the bus comes to a stop at the gymnasium entrance to let the team off, the girls gather their stuff and prepare to exit the bus. Mary, not surprisingly, is the first one off. They are promptly greeted and exchange pleasantries with the Athletic Director for the other school. He seems like a nice guy but under the circumstances, Mary isn’t particularly interested in small talk. After holding it in this long, it would truly be a shame for her to lose it and have an accident now. “Is that our locker room over there?” Mary impatiently asks -- trying to move things along -- as she points down the hall. In short course, there are indeed led to their locker room.
As Mary enters, she immediately looks and sees a row of three toilets (along with three sinks) over in the far corner of the locker room. She quickly drops her stuff (practically throwing down her gym bag) and all but runs over to the toilets. Taking the first stall she comes to, she doesn’t even take the time to lock the door. Instead, in practically record time, she yanks down her pants and panties and just plops herself down on the toilet seat. Immediately, she starts peeing. In fact, she actually started peeing even before her pretty butt was even down on the seat.
Mary pees. And she pees. And she pees and she pees and she pees. The pretty, blonde-haired basketball star pees what can only be described as a powerful, hissing torrent. It splashes noisily into the toilet water below. And with Mary just sitting there with the stall door wide open, the noise reverberates through the locker room and all eyes are drawn to their teammate sitting there peeing in the toilet. “Man, girl -- better lay off those big gulps,” one of her teammates is heard to remark. The remark, of course, is a bit of friendly teasing about the volume and ferocity of Mary’s peeing. But for pretty high school senior and basketball star, the relief is too great to care. Mary -- the daughter of a minister -- had always been quite private about her bodily functions. But today -- having to pee as bad as she did -- the relief she feels is simply too great for her to care about that now. As Mary sits and just lets her bladder drain -- quite a bit exposed on the toilet with the stall door open -- the feeling of relief is just pure bliss.
Soon, still peeing full force, Mary starts to feel her bowels starting to move. By now, other girls have come to the bathroom area and two of her teammates enter the other two stalls that are there. The crackling sound from Mary’s coming bowel movement is evident. One girl, checking herself in one of the mirrors over the sinks, reacts in disgust that Mary would be doing that with the stall door open. She admonishes Mary to close the stall door but, being on the toilet as she is -- now actually going both ways -- is in no position to get up and close it now. One of the other girls walks over and tries to close it for her, but she finds she can’t lock it from the outside.
With the stall door still open, Mary’s bowel movement comes thundering out of her. It’s a big, thick, solid movement at first. Then, as the girls’ pee stream gradually starts to trail off, Mary feels her stomach cramp a bit. She then feels a new surge from her bowels as a soft mass of less formed fecal matter quickly pushes it’s way out. It’s all quick and painless but the girl’s feeling of relief is no less sweet. But once again -- almost as if on cue -- her bowels surge once again and send another wave of soft, less-formed fecal matter into the toilet water below.
Finally, Mary is emptied of both bodily functions. The senior can’t remember when simply using the toilet ever felt this good. She sits and enjoys that feeling of relief and also the feeling of relief that she had indeed made it to the toilet in time. It’s then that she suddenly remembers again that she’s sitting there with the stall door still open. With it all now done and in the toilet, Mary then takes the opportunity to get up and bolt the stall door shut. In doing so, she has the occasion to look into the toilet and see the tremendous bowel movement that she just did. She doesn’t want to even think about how close she came to doing all that in her pants. She doesn’t want to think about what would have happened then.
Still, though, she finds her underwear badly skidmarked. A dark streak is present from the bottom all the way up through the back of her panties. Just as she’d feared, the tip of her bowel movement had indeed “touched cotton” and rubbed against her panties. It isn’t so much that it can really be said that she’s messed her panties -- clearly it’s nothing like that -- but it isn’t like her panties are clean, either. To Mary, it kind of looks like the after-effects of someone having gone to the toilet and then not wiping her behind afterwards. It’s enough to make her happy that she’s got a change of panties in her gym bag. She checks the front of her panties as well. She rubs her hand there and feels that they’re wet. Again, it’s not a full-blown panty-wetting accident by any means, but a good bit definitely did leak out on her way to the toilet. She feels wetness on her inner thighs as well She feels disgusted with herself, but she’s nonetheless quite relieved knowing how much worse it really could have been.
Now, with the stall door locked shut, Mary’s next order of business is, of course, wiping herself. It’s a soft messy movement and Mary isn’t surprised when her first two wipes prove to be quite messy. Given the large bowel movement already in the toilet, Mary then flushes after the first two wipes. The last thing she wants now is to clog the toilet. But obviously, Mary is not done wiping yet. As she drags the next wipe through her behind, it comes back considerably less messy than the prior two. But when she digs the fourth wipe deeper into the crack of her behind -- really trying to get thoroughly clean back there -- it proves to be another quite messy one. But that wipe does seem to have done a good job. A fifth wipe -- a similarly vigorous one -- proves to be substantially clean. Another wipe right down the center comes back completely clean and two more wipes directed more broadly through her behind finish the job for her. Flushing the toilet again to make sure it doesn’t clog, she then takes three more wipes to dry herself. Having peed a pit in her panties she tries to blot her panties dry and feeling wetness on her thighs, she uses toilet paper there as well. Contemplating the streak mark in her panties, Mary concludes that there isn’t much she can do about that here. Again, she’s glad she has another pair in her gym bag. For the time being, though, she pulls up the ones she’s wearing. She flushes the toilet a third time to dispose of that last round of toilet paper.
Exiting the stall, it doesn’t escape notice how long she’s been in there. One girl on the team mockingly applauds her. Another girl asks her is she’s alright. “I am now,” Mary tells her with a smile. After washing her hands, Mary retrieves her gym bag and heads over to the lockers to get changed for the game. Normally, she only changes into fresh panties after the game (taking off the ones she’s sweated in), but on this occasion, she decides to put on the clean ones now. She’s careful changing out of them as she obviously doesn’t want the others to see how skidmarked they are. Taking them off, she quickly stuffs the skidmarked panties deep into her gym bag to be dealt with later. Nobody seems to notice. Mary then, of course, continues dressing for the game.
They win.
And this time, Mary is sure to use the girls’ room -- having a long pee -- before getting on the bus to go home. And once home, Mary sneaks her skidmarked panties into the bathroom with her and scrubs them clean before putting them in the wash. |
Like the last few stories I've posted, this was originally written using characters from a non-kink book I've written. So, name-changes were made and the setting was kept vague to keep it from being recognizable, I hope the vagueness does not distract from the desperation content. This came about because I was thinking about which characters from my 'normal' work might have an interest in omo, and when I narrowed that down I had an urge to write about it.
***
No Time For A Break
Ethan tapped his foot beneath his desk uncomfortably. He’d been on the phone all day, booking appointments for his clients. Ordinarily, it was not his job to book his appointments. But, James— his secretary and partner— was at home sick today, so Ethan was stuck handling everything himself. It had made his usually tight schedule even more packed and he’d hadn’t even had a single second to set aside for a break.
He really, really needed a break though.
Ethan loved his coffee, but wished he hadn’t indulged in it to the extent he had today. He’d had five cups before noon, and now as it neared three o’clock, they were begging to be let out. Every time he set the phone down and prepared to stand and make his way to the toilet, the phone would ring again and another long conversation would follow. It was not easy to sound professional over the phone with a bladder on the verge of total collapse. But, at least no one could see him through the phone. He took full advantage of that, allowing himself to cross his legs and twist in his seat as he searched for a position that took a little of the edge off.
The hard part was not letting his voice crack or squeak. He was aware he was speaking in a higher pitch than he usually did, but hoped the tone didn’t make his urgency obvious. If the high pitch didn’t make it clear he had somewhere else he needed to be, the fact he couldn’t help but talk fast and sometimes even interrupt his clients probably did.
At last, he’d booked one more appointment and gotten the person off the phone. He looked to the clock. Ten minutes until three, when his next client was set to arrive. He hoped that was enough time to take care of his need, and that the phone remained silent. He stood from his desk as delicately as he could, knowing that standing too fast could very well cause him to lose it right then and there. He took one careful step, trying not to jostle his poor bladder but doing it anyway. He was so completely full that even the smallest possible motion made his agony soar. He was alone, so he gave in and held himself as he continued on his way. At least the restroom was so close. He’d be peeing in just a minute, and oh what a relief that would be!
The phone rang.
Ethan wanted to ignore it. Just let the machine get it. But, he was a professional. He wouldn’t inconvenience his clients over something as silly as needing a toilet break really, really bad. He hobbled the couple steps back to his desk and used the hand that wasn’t shoved in the crease of his thighs to grab the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, Ethan.” It was James, his assistant and boyfriend. James’s voice was a little scratchier than usual, and Ethan felt bad. Poor James was currently suffering the worst cold Ethan had ever seen anyone have.
He was relieved it was James, since at least he didn’t have to fight to sound so professional with him. Still, he wished James could have waited at least a couple more minutes to call. “H—How are you?” Ethan stammered, bouncing in place where he stood.
“Sick,” James said, his tone was still a bit chipper like it usually was, but Ethan could tell it was taking more effort than it normally would.
“Feeling any better?” Ethan asked, crossing his legs at the ankles, eyes transfixed on the door that led to the restroom.
“A little,” James said. “Are you okay? You sound a little sick yourself. I hope you haven’t caught this.”
“N—No,” Ethan stuttered, his grip on himself tightening as he felt a few tiny drops of urine beginning to bead at the tip of his opening. “It’s just… Well, this is a bit embarrassing but… Um, do you mind if I… Relieve myself while we talk?”
“Hm?” James asked. There was something funny in his voice, and this time it wasn’t to do with his scratchy throat. “You—“
“I’m terribly sorry,” Ethan said. “Just, between handling both the appointments and the phone calls, I haven’t had a moment’s break all day, and I’m afraid I had way too much coffee this morning.”
“Oh,” James said. “Oh, oh. Yeah. Poor thing. You’ve been holding it all day?”
“Yes,” Ethan said with a wince, his bladder spasming at the reminder of how long it had been since he’d emptied it. “So, if it’s not a problem with you, I can just bring the phone with me while I… You know…”
“It’s fine,” James said quickly. “Go ahead. You sound like you’re bursting.”
“You might… Hear it,” Ethan said.
“That’s fine,” James said, even more quickly.
Ethan didn’t need any more encouragement, he hobbled, walking with crossed legs, to the door for the restroom. Cringing as he released his hold on himself to push the door open, he dashed inside. His restroom was kept clean, one toilet a sink, and one urinal. He got himself in front of the urinal in record time, fumbling his zip down with one hand as he used the other to put James on speaker. “Can you hear me?” he asked.
“Yes,” James said.
Ethan fished himself free from the confines of his pants and instantly released his long-held stream. “Ahhhhh…” He breathed aloud, blushing when he realized James had definitely heard that. “Thank you, James,” he said, embarrassed.
James was quiet. Ethan hoped he hadn’t weirded him out by moaning like that. When James spoke again, that weird quality was in his voice once more. “Sounds like you… really had to go.”
Ethan felt himself going even redder. Between his moan and the extremely forceful hiss of his urine striking the porcelain urinal so loudly he was sure James could hear it, it was pretty obvious how much he’d needed to do this. “Yeah. Like I said, haven’t had a break all day.”
“Feeling better?” James asked.
Ethan laughed a little awkwardly, “Eheh, yeah. A bit.” He gave another sigh. He didn’t think peeing had ever felt this good before. All that tension draining away to be replaced by a tingly numbness… It just felt so, indescribably good. A few more seconds passed before he realized both he and James had fallen quiet. Which meant all James had heard over the phone was his sighs of relief mixed with the sound of his pee spraying out. “You still there?” Ethan asked.
James took a second to respond, “Yes.” Now his voice almost had a choked quality to it.
“You okay? Your throat’s not getting worse, is it?”
“Nnno,” James squeaked. “I’m okay. You’re… still going.”
“Told you it was an emergency,” Ethan said.
“I’ll say… It’s been almost a whole minute. Are you almost done?”
Ethan assumed James was getting sick of listening to him piss. But, his bladder still felt pretty swollen. “I think this is gonna take a while,” he admitted, feeling his face heating up. “Sorry. I had way too much coffee this morning. Four cups.”
“Wow, you must have a really strong bladder,” James said.
Ethan had never thought his bladder was that strong. The last time he’d wet himself had been much more recent than he cared to admit; The result of being badly startled while making a mad dash to the restroom to drain himself of the three massive cups of soda he’d downed during a long drive.
But, as James informed him he’d passed the minute and a half mark and he was still going strong, Ethan realized his bladder must have been pretty big if he’d been able to keep all this inside it for as long as he had.
A few final squirts of liquid spattered the urinal and Ethan at last felt empty. “Ahh, I’m done,” he said. “How long was that?”
“Almost two minutes,” James said. “That was incredible. Do you normally pee that much? I don’t see you take breaks that often, since you’re usually so busy and all. I guess that means you have to hold it a lot of the time, don’t you? So, when you have to go, you really have to go, right? And, all that coffee you drink. That stuff goes right through people, you know? Your bladder must be gigantic! I’ve heard you go in the morning before work a few times, and I always thought you were just peeing a lot ‘cause everyone does that first thing in the morning, but compared to what I just heard, your morning pees are—“
“James,” Ethan interrupted, keeping his voice low. James was excitable, and often a little childish. Ethan loved how full of wonder James could be at times, but it also tended to result in him breaking a lot of social codes that most people would just look at as ‘common sense’. This, however, was bizarre even for James.
“Yes?”
“Is there a reason you’re so fixated on me peeing right now?”
Silence came from the other end of the phone.
“James?”
“Eheh…” James gave a nervous laugh. “What do you mean, Ethan?”
“I mean you’ve just spent at least a full minute rambling about how much pee I can hold.”
“… I was making conversation,” James said. “If you want to talk about something else though, that’s okay. Like—“
“James, you’re not a very good liar. What is going on? You can tell me, I won’t be angry.”
Ethan heard James sigh… Kinda. With how stuffed up his nose was, it was a bit hard to tell. “Okay, so I’m gonna tell you about something nobody really knows about me. I guess some people on the Internet know about it, but I’ve never met any of them for real, so it’s not the same thing.”
“Alright?” Ethan asked, tensing up as he imagined James admitting to some kind of catastrophic wrongdoing.
“So, I’ve always kinda had this… thing… Uh… It’s like…”
Hearing James stammer and stutter was so totally alien to Ethan. He’d never known James to feel ashamed of anything at all. Whatever this was, it must have been gigantic.
“And… It’s not like I’m… Like, ashamed of it. It’s just— It’s really weird, and I don’t want you to think I’m gross, or something.”
“And this ‘thing’ would be what?” Ethan asked, realizing how pointless the question was. Judging from how James had spent several minutes babbling about pee and how being questioned on it had made him so anxious, Ethan had a pretty decent idea of what this was.
“I, well… I have this… Thing about… pee,” James admitted. “Specifically, seeing someone… go after they’ve been holding it for a long time.”
Even though he’d guessed the answer, Ethan still felt confused hearing it given. He’d seen all manner of porn, and was familiar with the idea of fetishes. He’d seen and discussed many that he couldn’t understand how people could have possibly enjoyed.
“Sorry if that’s too weird for you,” James said.
“It’s okay, James,” Ethan said. “It’s weird, but you’ve always been weird. It’s why I like you.”
“Thank you,” James said. “I’ve been too worried to tell you this.”
“Oh, come on. You know I don’t like to judge.”
“Thank you,” James repeated.
“So, while you were listening to me just now, were you… Uh…”
“I was very turned on,” James admitted.
“And, would you ever want to watch me, uh… you know—“
“When!?” James interrupted. “Tonight?”
“Slow down. I didn’t mean I’d actually do it, I was just wondering if you’d want me to.”
“Oh,” James sounded disappointed. “Yes. It’s something I’ve always wanted. Every time you go into the restroom, I keep wishing that you’ll forget to shut the door or something. And, when I see you drinking coffee, I can’t stop thinking about how it’s gonna have to come out eventually. I imagine you getting stuck somewhere that you can’t go, and then you just barely make it to the toilet and just moan like crazy— God, I’ve cum so hard to that image so many—“
“James,” Ethan said.
“Sorry…”
“So, I guess what happened just now was like your biggest fantasy?”
“Almost,” James said. “I wish I’d gotten to see the look on your face though, and that I could have seen your… You know, your stream.”
“… Okay,” Ethan said. “Now, there’s nothing wrong with any of this, James. I don’t dislike you now or think less of you. It’s just— A new idea for me, you understand?”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m glad you’re not grossed out by this. And, just because I like this, that doesn’t mean you have to do it to make me happy if you don’t like it.”
“Thanks, James.”
The call finally ended just in time for Ethan to meet his next client. After they’d left, Ethan had a few hours until his next one. His phone was finally staying quiet. He kind of needed to pee again. He looked at the door to his restroom. He thought about James, so sick and miserable with his cold.
He thought of a potential ‘get-well’ present.
He poured himself another cup of coffee.
When it was time to head home, he was full to bursting. He had to go even worse than he’d needed to earlier when James had called him. As he got ready to leave, he paused at the restroom, considering it. His bladder screamed at him to go in, plant himself firmly in front of the urinal and let everything loose. But, he’d held it this long. He knew what he had planned would make James feel better. He could make it home. It was a short drive.
It really was a short drive, but it was also a bumpy one. Ethan felt every bump like a knife to his bloated, rock-hard bladder. Every time he was jostled, he felt more and more liquid bead out of his tip, slowly soaking the front of his boxers. Before he got home, he was steering with one hand, the other gripping himself for dear life.
Finally home, he dashed from the car and hobbled up to the door. He jumped in place as he rang the doorbell, wanting James to answer and see his surprise; Ethan bouncing up and down, clutching himself with both hands, a hair’s breadth away from peeing all over the ground beneath him.
It took James a minute to answer. Understandable, since he was unwell. But, the seconds felt like eternity to poor Ethan. He had to go! The door opened and James’s greeting died on his lips as he took in the sight of his partner.
“E—Excuse me, James,” Ethan said. “I had a few more coffees this afternoon.”
James’s face, which had gone deathly pale from his cold, suddenly regained a lot of its color. He stepped aside, eyes glued to Ethan as he jiggled in place a few more times before limping in. He's totally full, James realized, his pants starting to feel uncomfortably tight.
James shut the door without taking his eyes from Ethan, and just stood there as his partner hobbled in the direction of the toilet.
“James, please hurry along,” Ethan said, jerking his head in the direction of the restroom since both his hands were busy gripping his dick. “I really can’t wait much longer.”
It took a second for it to register to James. “You want me to—“
“Yessss,” Ethan said through clenched teeth. “Hur—Hurry, I really am— I’m about to have an accident here.”
James moved faster than he had all day, catching up to Ethan and helping him the last few feet to the restroom. Ethan jumped up and down as he fought to yank his zipper down, talking to James the whole time. “Go ahead and stand wherever—“ He bit back a moan. “—Wherever you think you’ll have the best view. And, if you want to touch yourself while you watch this, I won’t mind.”
James positioned himself to Ethan’s side, where he was pretty sure he’d be able to see both his stream and his face pretty clearly. His eyes roamed his desperate partner’s body, resting on the bump now visible in his usually flat abdomen. “Wow,” he said, pointing to it. “You really have to go…”
Ethan looked down to where James was pointing, still trying to get his zipper to come down, his shaking hands making it really difficult. Ethan saw the swollen bulge of his ridiculously full bladder. Had he not been so desperate he would have found it interesting as well, he’d never noticed that his bladder could get full enough to be visible. He kept fighting with his zipper. “Ah… James, I can’t get—“
“Let me,” James said. His own hands were trembling as he lowered Ethan’s zip, but not so badly he wasn’t able to work it. “There you are.”
Ethan pulled himself out, a thin dribble of urine falling from his opening and into the toilet. He was still trying to hold on. “Now?” he asked, voice full of need and pleading. “Did you pick a good spot to watch?”
“Yes,” James said, watching Ethan tremble with desperation. “Go.”
Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. Pee gushed from his member and splashed into the water in the bowl. “Ohhhhhhhh…” He moaned. Not just because he knew it would turn James on, but because it genuinely felt that amazing to let go.
James had begun to touch himself over his pants. The look on Ethan’s face was so hot, he couldn’t stop himself. Ethan’s face had gone pink, his mouth totally slack, his tongue lolling out. His eyes were fluttering open and shut. It was even better than James had imagined it being.
As Ethan’s stream picked up, pouring faster and faster with a louder and even more satisfying hssss, James lowered his pajama bottoms and began to masturbate for real.
Ethan noticed what James was doing and felt himself going red. Ethan did not feel ashamed, or disturbed. But, the idea that something so simple -- Ethan was merely letting his body do what it needed to do--had turned James into such a lustful mess was causing heat to build up in Ethan’s body as well. He hoped James didn’t get himself off before Ethan was done peeing, because as soon as his bladder was empty, he wanted to get James in bed as fast as humanly possible.
The immense relief continued to crash down on Ethan, he continued to moan and sigh as the powerful release flowed through his body. Eventually, he had to admit that at least a few of his vocalizations were in fact just for James’s enjoyment.
His stream started to dwindle after nearly two minutes, and a full body shudder worked its way up and down Ethan’s spine.
“Awww,” James said, his voice cracking as he continued to pump his cock. “You get pee-shivers! That’s so cute!”
Ethan gave one more sigh, “All done,” he said. “Was that good?”
“Oh, God, it was amazing,” James said.
“Want to shake me off?” Ethan offered.
“Can I?” James asked.
“Go ahead.”
James darted over, removed one hand from around his own dick to give Ethan’s a few shakes, which quickly transformed into strokes. Ethan moaned again at the feeling. All that desperation and the wonderful sensation of emptying his bladder had left him feeling very, very sensitive. “Let’s get to bed, James,” Ethan said. “There’s plenty more I want to do tonight if you’re feeling up for it.”
Edited May 27, 2021 by segaface
(see edit history) |
Ethan had truly awful eyesight. If he didn’t have his glasses on, he couldn’t see a thing more than half a foot in front of him. Even his own feet were nothing but blobby, vague shapes. But, so long as he had his glasses on, all was well.
All was not well now.
James had managed to talk him into a camping trip as a ‘bonding exercise’, and while Ethan wasn’t too keen on spending a few days in a place where the only option for a bath would be in a lake, he had been having fun. Until, that was, James challenged him to climb a tree. He’d missed his footing, his glasses had fallen off his face, and then he’d landed on top of them.
He didn’t think he could recreate that sequence of events if he tried.
The result was that he did not have his glasses, and he could not see anything. If it weren’t so late they would have just packed up and gone home, but it was much too late; If they left now, they’d be awake until at least three in the morning. So, the decision was made to spend the night and head back in the morning so Ethan could hopefully get his glasses repaired.
So, that was why Ethan was tossing and turning in his sleeping bag, with one hand crammed between his legs. He’d been needing to relieve his bladder since before he’d tried to climb the stupid tree, and now his need was at a critical level.
Without his glasses, his vision was abysmal even when it was light out. But, in the dark, he was even blinder than a bat. And, the ground in this area was uneven, with fallen branches and large rocks all over the place. They’d found one of the few smooth places to set up the tent. Ethan knew that if he tried to go out and take a leak, he’d trip over something and fall over. Even if he didn’t injure himself that way, the signals from his bladder were telling him that the impact would definitely make him have an accident.
He knew he could ask James to be his eyes, to guide him like a seeing-eye dog would. James wouldn’t mind. He’d be downright delighted, most likely. Now that Ethan knew James liked to see him pee, he knew he shouldn’t feel embarrassed to wake his partner up and tell him he needed help walking to an appropriate place to find relief.
But, god dammit, he just was.
It was an illogical shame, but it was there, and Ethan found himself unable to fight it down. He just… Couldn’t stop thinking it would be rude to wake James out of a sound sleep and ask him for a favor. Ethan had been the idiot who’d broken his glasses, James shouldn’t have to lose sleep over that!
Ethan told himself he could wait until morning. It would be light out, he’d see at least a little bit better, and if it turned out he still needed someone with decent vision to lead the way, at least James would already be awake.
It was not easy to fall asleep when his bladder was causing him so much discomfort, but eventually he found a position that took enough of the edge off he was able to relax slightly.
He awoke a couple hours later in a panic. In his dream, he’d been in a massive line for a restroom. A restroom which some sadist had placed right beside the loudest fountain he’d ever heard. The water had been gushing and pouring and trickling, making Ethan whimper with need as the line moved so, so slowly.
When he finally got to the restroom, he opened the door to find nothing but another series of doors, no toilets. He flung open door after door, finding himself lost in some chaotic labyrinth filled with noisy fountains, rushing streams and somehow even an entire ocean. The labyrinth taunted him mercilessly, several times he’d find what looked like a toilet stall, but when he opened it it would be empty of anything that could hold his bladder.
Eventually, his dream-self had pushed open one more door and found a vacant porcelain urinal, free for him to use to his heart’s content. He’d gotten himself in front of it in record time and gripped his zip—
Then he’d woken up, his bladder searing with atrocious need. He realized his legs had tangled themselves even tighter together during his sleep, and now both of his hands were squeezing between them. He carefully sat up. Even his ginger, slow motions were too much and a spurt of urine seeped into his boxers. He peeked outside the tent to find it was still really dark.
He was not going to make it until morning like this.
He was not going to make it another five minutes like this.
He just… He needed to go right now.
There were very few options available to him; He could pee himself, which he definitely didn’t want to do. He could go right outside the tent, but he didn’t know enough about the outdoors to know if the smell would attract some kind of animal. He could find something to use as a receptacle in the tent, but he couldn’t even see well enough to take in the inventory at his disposal. Lastly, he could try to feel his way through the dark and risk hurting himself or even getting lost.
None of these were good ideas.
Or, well… He could wake James up.
He knew James would not be angry. He knew James would place Ethan’s needs first. He knew James cared about him.
He knew James would like the show Ethan inevitably put on for him…
As he tried to convince himself to just do it, Ethan writhed into the palms of his hands. He needed to go so badly! His hips twisted, his legs scissored back and forth, and he started to moan out-loud.
James was a very light sleeper, and the instant Ethan started making noise, his eyes drew open. “Ethan?” James asked tiredly. “Is something wrong?” As his mind adjusted to being awake, and his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Ethan’s tangled up legs and clutching hands. James felt himself reddening.
“I have to go bad,” Ethan said. “I need you to help.”
“Yeah, you do…” James said softly.
“Now, please?!” Ethan begged. This was so embarrassing. He didn’t beg.
“Right,” James said. “Right… You need help getting around in the dark, don’t you?”
“Yyyesss!” Ethan hissed, hands digging in tighter and tighter as he felt the wet patch on his boxers growing larger and larger.
James wished the light was better, so he could see Ethan better; Watch the performance he couldn’t help but put on. Ethan was always so controlled and collected, and here he was coming apart at the seams from such a basic, unavoidable need.
“Okay, I’ll get you there,” James said. He crawled out of the tent and helped Ethan out. James’s body flashed hot and cold as Ethan whimpered and moaned while he tried to stand to his feet outside. James’s hand was clasping Ethan’s arm, and he could feel his partner writhing nonstop. Could feel all the tension his overtaxed body held.
“Careful… Careful…” James said as he slowly helped Ethan walk. He was sure poor Ethan wanted to move faster, get to relief right away, but James didn’t want him to trip. If Ethan tripped, he’d likely start peeing when he hit the ground.
James stopped once they were at a bush he judged to be far enough from the tent. He waited for Ethan to get himself out and release the flood he was containing. But, he didn’t. He just kept jiggling and fidgeting as James held his arm. James thought for a second he couldn’t get his clothing down, but then Ethan spoke;
“James!” He cried out. “I can’t wait anymore! We have to start walking again!”
James tried to hold in his laughter. Poor thing was so blind he didn’t even realize they’d only stopped because they were there! “You can go!” James said. “You’re right in front of a bush.”
Ethan got himself out. At least since he’d been sleeping in his boxers, he didn’t have to try and fight with a belt or zip without being able to see what he was doing. The instant he was out, he was peeing. God… What a relief! So much relief… All the fullness finally going away, all that tension easing… The warm feeling on his feet—
He was peeing on his own feet.
He couldn’t see well enough to aim. He adjusted, and stopped feeling the trickling against his flesh, but then James startled. “H—Hey, you’re… Kinda splashing me.”
Ethan reddened, he apologized over and over, but he couldn’t stop going for even a second. Now that he’d begun to pee, it was not going to let up until he was well and truly finished.
“It’s fine,” James interrupted one of his apologies. “You just can’t see, I get it… Is it okay if I help you aim?”
Ethan tried to slow his stream. He was able to restrain it to a few trickling dribbles but he knew that would only last for a second or two before he’d be blindly spraying full-force again. It was embarrassing, but neither one of them really wanted pee covered feet… “Sure.”
James was perhaps a little too excited about this. He took Ethan’s cock in his hand and pointed it in the proper direction, “Let g—“
Ethan had resumed gushing before James could get the words out. This was a very, very weird feeling to him. Sure, James touched his dick pretty frequently, but never in such a context. It was just strange to relieve his bladder with someone else directing his stream. This felt in some way more intimate than anything he and James had ever done together. James taking charge over one of Ethan’s most basic, fundamental needs.
James was loving this. True, it meant he couldn’t look at Ethan’s face as he enjoyed his relief, but this was in some ways even better. He felt so close to him in that moment. And, he could still definitely hear how much better Ethan felt. He was moaning, gasping and panting; He was making some noises that James had only ever heard him make in bed. Poor Ethan, James thought. If letting it out was making him feel as good as that, he must have been way too full.
Indeed, Ethan had been way too full. James knew he had long pees, but this one was just going on and on… James didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard Ethan pee this much all at once before. The fact he hadn’t had an accident while trying to keep that much in him was impressive. James had held a lot of liquid in his bladder on multiple occasions himself, but didn’t think he could ever contain this much.
Ethan’s stream started to trickle off, and after several more long spurts, he gave a massive sigh and told James he was finished.
“Want me to—“
“You can if you like,” Ethan said.
James shook Ethan off a few times, and Ethan tucked his cock back into his boxers.
“Wow, that was amazing,” James said. “Every time I thought you were finally finished, you just gushed more! I thought we were gonna be there all night! Your bladder’s got to be the size of a small lake! We’ve gotta get you to pee into a measuring cup or something some time, that was just—“
“James!” Ethan interrupted.
“Heh…” James laughed nervously. “I… What I meant to say is… Uh… You feel better now?”
“Yes,” Ethan said, smiling. “I do feel a lot better.”
“That’s good,” James said, kissing him on the cheek. “Let’s get some rest.”
“In a bit,” Ethan said. “I may be blind right now, but I can still see that ‘rest’ is the furthest thing from your mind at the moment.” |
One thing that's helping me with the Omo fiction I've been posting lately is just the fact that I'm using characters I've had for a long time and have written tons of things about already in non-Omo contexts. So, putting them into omorashi situations is a bit easier since I already know how they'd react in any given circumstance. Since I've written a whole book on these two already, I know the ins and outs of their relationship to start with, which means adding pee desperation isn't too big a challenge. The times I've tried to create characters specifically for Omo and nothing else were quite a bit more difficult in terms of developing personalities/relationships.
***
James had always had a weak bladder. It was part of the reason why he was so interested in seeing others desperate to pee. Growing up, everyone around him seemed to have bladders of steel. Meanwhile, he’d need to beg for stops on long road trips, be squirming at his desk at school, and need to locate the restroom in each new location before doing anything else. He’d wet the bed way longer than he cared to admit; the last time it had happened he’d been in college! He’d told his roommate that he’d gotten super drunk the night before and that was why it had happened, but in truth James had never had more than one beer in a single day in his life. He’d peed the bed as an adult while stone-cold sober purely because he hadn’t been able to wake up in time to get to the toilet.
Accidents had been a common occurrence for him as well. In elementary school, he’d have to go to the nurse for a change of clothes more often than the other kids. Often, he’d gotten caught up playing and didn’t realize he’d needed to go. Other times, it was just that there was only one toilet in the classrooms for the lower grades, and if there was a line for it, it was rare James would be able to wait through it. In middle and high school, he’d need to go between every single class, and sometimes he’d be fidgeting and staring at the clock anyway. He’d even had an accident his senior year, he’d needed to go pretty bad and then someone had said something he found absolutely hilarious. The laughter had been too much for his too-small, too-full bladder and it had just all come out.
So, being desperate, barely making it, or having accidents were normal for James— Though, it had been a while since he’d last actually wet himself. But, as he got older, seeing other people get super desperate to pee became more rare. And, since it was so rare, it had started to fascinate him. He had some classmates in high school that he’d never once seen use the restroom. Some thought the school toilets were gross, and others were shy about going in public, so they’d only use the school restrooms in an emergency. James had seen a few such emergencies; his classmates squirming at their desks and bolting for the door as soon as the bell rang. Once, while he’d been at a urinal relieving himself for the third time that day, a guy had flung the door open with such force that it bounced back off the wall when it hit.
The guy had then walked, partially doubled-over, to one of the urinals. James noticed he was unzipping long before he actually reached the toilet, and as soon as he was in the right place, James heard his stream spraying and a low moan of relief. James didn’t mean to look, but he did tilt his head ever-so-slightly to see that the guy’s face was glazed over in ecstasy. James had quickly looked back away as he finished his own pee.
It was so interesting to him. As James washed his hands, perhaps taking a bit longer than he really needed to, that guy just kept gushing and gushing. James had certainly never peed that much in one go before, not even when he’d been about to burst. That guy must have been really strong to be able to hold all that in, and it must have felt absolutely wonderful to him to finally be letting it out.
After the guy had finally finished, he muttered something about the football coach making him drink a ton of water while doing drills and how the teachers were such assholes for not letting him have any toilet breaks during class afterwards. James took this in, he’d seen how much water the football players were supposed to drink. James knew if he drank that much and then had to hold it through an entire class, he’d be soaked. He couldn’t stop thinking about how impressive it was that someone could hold that much in, and how nice that guy’s moan had sounded to James’s ears.
Shortly after that, James worked out that he had a more… intense interest in people needing to pee than most would. He’d tried to deny it to himself for a bit, but he couldn’t, and it wasn’t like it hurt anyone. He even started holding it in for fun when he didn’t have anywhere he needed to be. Part of him hoped it might make his bladder a little stronger. It did a bit, but he was nowhere near being able to hold as much as he’d discovered his boyfriend Ethan could.
James would be lying if he said he hadn’t always been interested in Ethan’s peeing habits. Even before they were together as partners, he’d noticed how much coffee Ethan always drank, unable to stop himself from thinking about where it was all headed. James had also noticed how focused Ethan could get on his work, staying in one place for a very long time even after a couple cups of coffee. James had noticed how Ethan’s feet would begin to tap seemingly without his notice, and how when he finally took a break from work it was almost always sudden and hurried.
Once they were together, once they lived in the same place, James noticed these behaviors more. And, admittedly, he listened to Ethan pee outside the bathroom door a few times. His morning pees went on forever and ever almost. James had been impressed then, but now after hearing Ethan pee after being truly desperate three times, he was amazed by his partner’s capacity. And, very glad Ethan was willing to indulge him in his unusual interest from time to time.
Today, the two were going on a very long drive. Ethan had known James tended to need to pee pretty often. Even if Ethan wasn’t as fascinated by pee as James was, it wasn’t easy to miss how often James asked for a toilet break. “You remembered to pee, didn’t you?” Ethan asked as he unlocked the car. It had always been a little weird to remind his small-bladder’d and scatterbrained partner to take a leak before they went anywhere, but now that Ethan knew of James’s interest it felt somehow stranger.
“Oh, right!” James said, rushing back into the house as Ethan shook his head. This was the real killer combination for James. Not only was his bladder a bit on the small side, he was also forgetful. He had an awful tendency to not remember important things when he was excited about something. Sometimes, he could get so caught up in something fun that he didn’t realize he needed the toilet until it was an emergency. Like now, he’d been so excited to go on this trip with Ethan that he hadn’t peed after waking up that morning. Now, he realized that he really, really had to go and suddenly felt like he couldn’t possibly hold it all the way to the restroom.
He did make it, though. He counted the seconds he was peeing for, and got up to forty seven, which was very long for him. Even if it couldn’t compete with Ethan’s ability to gush and gush for almost two full minutes. He returned to the garage and gave Ethan a salute; “Ready now!” he announced.
“That’s good,” Ethan said. “I don’t want to have to make a whole bunch of stops today.”
James got into the car, “We won’t, I promise. Let’s go!”
Ethan laughed, shaking his head. “You’re acting like we’re going to Disney World or something, it’s just a cavern.”
“I like caves,” James said. “And, last time we went you got all scared when those bats came at us and kept holding my hand real tight. It was so cute!”
“I wasn’t scared,” Ethan insisted as he started to pull the car out.
“Sure.”
“I just didn’t want them to poop on us, or something.”
They drove for a while, talking to each other. It was fun, James loved being in an enclosed little bubble with Ethan. It was so nice when it was just the two of them. When they’d finally moved in together, James had been so happy because it meant it could be just the two of them all the time.
It was a very long drive though, and eventually they ran out of things to talk about. Ethan turned on the radio and they listened to music for a while instead. Once the conversation had dried up, James’s attention was drawn to something that wasn’t dry at all. His bladder had started to throb again. He looked at the clock, it had only been two and a half hours since he last went, but that was a pretty long time for him. Looking at his surroundings, James could determine they weren’t even halfway there yet. He knew he wouldn’t make it the whole drive without peeing.
Ethan had said he didn’t want to make a bunch of stops, though. So, James should hold it at least a little bit longer, right? At least until they were a bit past the halfway point? It wasn’t like it was an emergency yet, it was just getting there.
“You’re quiet,” Ethan said. “That’s unlike you. Normally you try to sing along with everything on the radio. Even the songs you’ve never heard before.”
“I was thinking about stuff,” James said.
“What stuff?”
“Ummm…” James didn’t want to say he’d been thinking about how he already needed a rest stop… “Why do hotdogs come in packs of ten, but buns come in packs of eight?”
Ethan sighed, “Of course that’s what you’re thinking about…”
James laughed, but doing so made his bladder spasm and he tightened his thighs uncomfortably. They continued driving. James’s bladder continued filling. They still weren’t halfway there, they still hadn’t reached the point where James had decided it would be okay for him to ask for a stop
Ethan had had some coffee before they left. Maybe he’d have to go soon, too… Even if Ethan’s bladder was made of steel, steel still had a breaking point; James had been witness to it three times already. But, James was pretty adept at picking up on Ethan’s ‘tells’ and it did not look like he had to go at all yet.
James started to bounce his leg restlessly. He needed to go pretty bad now. They passed the water tower James knew was about halfway between their home and the cavern. He made himself wait a few more minutes, then turned to Ethan; “Can we stop somewhere soon?”
“Hm?”
“I have to go,” James admitted. “Can you find me somewhere?”
“Yeah, I’ll look,” Ethan said. “But, if I can’t find any place we will be there soon, so don’t worry too much.”
James looked down at his fingers, which were digging into the tops of his knees. He knew he couldn’t wait until they were there. But, Ethan had said he’d look. Ethan would find him somewhere to go for sure. “Oh… Oh, okay.”
James continued bouncing his knees, then crossed his legs at the ankles. It was getting really, really bad. He didn’t normally wait this long. If he had been at home and holding it to have fun, he would have already gone a few minutes ago. He worried at his lip as they kept driving and there were no signs advertising nearby rest stops.
Maybe… Maybe this would help his bladder get stronger, though? It felt like there was very little room left in it, but he knew bladders could stretch to accommodate a ton of liquid when it became necessary. He could probably hold a lot more than he thought he could.
Probably.
They passed by a pizza restaurant and James pointed it out. Ethan saw it; “Did you want to eat there on our way back?”
“Maybe,” James said. “But… They’d have a restroom, right?”
“I don’t think they’ll let us use it if we don’t buy anything,” Ethan said. “There should be a gas station soon, don’t worry.”
But, James did worry. He was twisting his legs together now. One hand was gripping the side of his seat and the other was strangling the handle on the door. He really, really wanted to hold himself, but for whatever reason was too embarrassed to do it with Ethan there. Maybe since he knew how long Ethan could hold it, he didn’t want to call attention to how much smaller his own bladder was. Ethan had always been the more mature one, he didn’t want to emphasize that more by holding his crotch and asking ‘Are we there yet?!’ while they drove…
More and more time passed. There were no gas stations, no rest stops. Nowhere for James to relieve his achingly full bladder. It was definitely an emergency now. His need to pee demanded his full attention. He could no longer hear the music on the radio, could no longer pay attention to his surroundings out the window. His world had narrowed to contain nothing but his bladder and the liquid trying to burst out of it. His eyes clenched shut, his jaw clenched together, his thighs clenched up, every last muscle in his body was clenched so, so tight. But, his bladder was clenched most of all, it was starting to get painful. He couldn’t make it much longer. It needed to come out!
He felt the car stop for a bit and opened his eyes, hoping that the stop had meant Ethan had finally found him a restroom. But, that wasn’t why they’d stopped. They’d stopped because they’d hit wall to wall traffic that went on for so long James couldn’t see where it ended. James just panicked then. His heart was pounding. He couldn’t hold it through all this! His hands finally dove between his legs and squeezed down on his dick as liquid beaded at his tip. He whined in the back of his throat.
Ethan was still facing out the window. “It’ll clear up soon, I’m sure.”
“I can’t wait!” James exclaimed. He was embarrassed, but it was the truth. He couldn’t wait anymore! His bladder was fuller than he thought it had been in years! He was gonna explode if he didn’t find somewhere to let go right this very instant!
Ethan finally looked away from the road his eyes had been glued to for hours. They settled on James’s hunched, pained form, on his hands clasping between his tangled legs. It was… It was that bad? Ethan hadn’t thought… He hadn’t thought they’d been driving for that long, and James had peed right before they’d left. When James had been talking to him, he hadn’t made it sound like it was that urgent. But, clearly it was.
“Oh.. Oh, James,” Ethan said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”
James whimpered, his grip on himself tightening. He could feel tears forming. He was going to have an accident. He hadn’t had a total accident in a long time. Why did it have to happen now in front of Ethan? Why did he have to wear white pants today?
“You should have told me it was such an emergency,” Ethan said. “I wouldn’t have been annoyed, or anything. If I knew it was that bad, I would have just stopped on the side of the road for you when we couldn’t find anywhere.”
James felt more liquid seeping past his clutched hands. He whimpered again, even louder. He should have just admitted to Ethan how badly he’d actually needed to go. He could have gone on the side of the road a long time ago. He could have a nice, comfortable, empty bladder as he sat through the traffic instead of one on the verge of collapse. “I should have… I— I’m gonna wet myself…” He felt the tears start falling then at the sound of his own defeated words.
Ethan felt terrible. Would it have killed him to actually look over at James once or twice when he’d been driving? Yes, driving stressed him out and he was constantly convinced he was gonna crash his car if he didn’t stay completely focused at all times, but he still could have taken better care of poor James. “Hey,” Ethan said, trying to sound comforting. “You won’t wet yourself. I’m here to help, and I won’t let you have an accident.”
“I can’t wait!” James repeated. “It hurts!”
It was hurting? Ethan winced. He wondered if he should just tell James to wet himself, that it would be okay, that it was fine if he had an accident. He decided to save that for a last resort. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He tried to think of what to do. He knew James was well past the point now where Ethan could just distract him from his need until the traffic cleared up.
He could tell James to pee on the side of the road, but there was no cover here of any sort. Everyone in the surrounding cars would see him going. James might have been a pretty open person, but Ethan didn’t think he’d want to expose himself like that. And, what if there was a cop around here? James could get into trouble for that.
James gave a loud, anguished moan, and Ethan knew he’d probably just leaked a fair bit. “It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” Ethan repeated. There must have been something in the car, something James could use. Ethan took off his seatbelt and twisted around to search the backseat. No bottles. No containers of any kind. Shit. Shit. Shit… But, there were two towels from the day he and James had gone to the beach. The fabric they were made of was thick and absorbent. Maybe…
Ethan stretched his arm back and gripped the towels before tugging them up front.
“I—It’s coming out!” James whimpered, another wave of liquid spilling forth.
“Move your hands,” Ethan said.
“I can’t—“
“It will help,” Ethan promised.
James did as Ethan said reluctantly. Ethan knew he had to work fast, he unzipped James’s pants and pulled out his leaky member, tucking it into the material of one of the towels. James looked at Ethan with big, watery eyes.
“Go,” Ethan said.
James gave in to his bladder’s frantic, desperate demands. His pee gushed into the towel, producing a loud hssssss that filled the car. Ethan felt the towel dampening beneath his hand and adjusted it every so often as James just kept going. Once one section got too soaked, Ethan would move James to a new area and when that part was flooded he’d get him started over in another one. “Mmmmm….” James whimpered again, but this time the noise sounded less pained and more pleased.
Ethan was so close to James he could hear his heartbeat. At first it had been fast and pounding, but now it was evening out to a more relaxed rate. He looked up at James’s face for a second as he adjusted the towel again. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t think that James’s expression was downright adorable. His eyes were shut, his mouth was hanging open with a big dopey smile. He could feel James’s stream starting to slow down. Good thing too, the towel was running out of dry spots. A few more leaks and dribbles spurted from James’s tip. “All done!” James said.
Ethan removed the drenched towel, a bit unsure of what to do with it. He wished he had a bag to stick it into, but he didn’t. He just rested it back on the backseat and hoped it didn’t leave a mark. The area around James was miraculously dry, the towel had done its job well. “Better?” Ethan asked.
“So much better!” James nodded. “I’ve never had to go that bad in my life, I don’t think. I was counting the seconds while I was going, and I got up to an entire minute! I’ve never peed for an entire minute before! I didn’t even know I could hold that much! I can’t believe I didn’t just have an accident, thank you so much! I never would have thought of the towels, you’re so smart, and amazing. And I just feel so, so, so much better now!”
Ethan smiled a bit at James’s rambling. It was funny he took so much pride in being able to pee for a full minute. But, after all that desperation and discomfort, Ethan supposed he deserved to feel proud that he’d made it. Ethan still felt bad for not paying close enough attention to James’s needs, for more or less brushing him off when he’d asked for a stop.
Come to think of it, seeing James get that desperate, and hearing his pee hiss into the towel, had made Ethan kind of need to go as well. He was pretty sure he could make it to the cavern without too much of a problem, depending on when the traffic cleared. But, he knew one way he could show James he was sorry for not being as attentive as he should have been.
“I need to go pretty bad too,” Ethan said. “Good thing we have two towels.”
James stopped babbling immediately. He turned to Ethan with rapt attention. “You’re going to—“
“Yeah, I don’t think I can make it the rest of the way there,” Ethan said. “Not with this kind of traffic.”
“Oh,” James squeaked. “Well, you’d better use the towel, then! Don’t want any wet seats. You want me to help you like you helped me?”
“Sure,” Ethan said, he was already unzipping.
“Okay,” James said, helping Ethan aim into a bunched up section of the towel. “Ready when you are!”
It took Ethan a second to get started, his bladder not quite getting the memo that it was supposed to release into a towel in his car instead of into a toilet or urinal in a restroom. But, after he shut his eyes and pictured the restroom at home, the flow began. Once he started to pee, he realized he’d needed to do this quite a bit more than he’d thought. Maybe when he’d told James he couldn’t wait until they arrived, he hadn’t just been exaggerating for the sake of his partner’s entertainment. “Ahhh,” he sighed, knowing James loved the sound of his relieved breath.
“That feel good?” James asked.
“Feels amazing,” Ethan said.
“You did have to go,” James said. “You’re really drenching this towel, I can barely keep up!”
“Need me to hold back a bit?”
“No, just relax. I’ve got you.”
Ethan finished up a handful of seconds later, shivering. “Ahhh,” he exhaled again. “That’s better! Thank you, James.”
“Heh, you’re welcome.” James giggled. “You were shivering again, that’s so adorable!”
Ethan had never paid much attention to his tendency to shudder a bit as he neared the end of a pee, but he was glad James found it so cute.
“Oh, and you know what else?” James asked. “I was counting, and you went for forty eight seconds. I actually beat you this time!”
Ethan chuckled. James could find pride and intrigue in the most silly, mundane things sometimes. |
Very brief mention of self-harm (no details on the method) and homophobia in this one.
***
As he and James explored the cavern, Ethan could not stop thinking about what had happened in the car. Those tiny, whining noises James had made when he’d been desperate had been… strangely cute. Maybe it was just because Ethan liked to help people, to ‘save’ them. Maybe that was why helping James get the relief he so badly needed had made Ethan feel funny. Even if it was his fault James had gotten so desperately full, ‘saving’ him from having an accident had been a good feeling for Ethan.
He still couldn’t believe he’d been so oblivious of how severe James’s need was until it was nearly too late. Sure, he didn’t like to take his eyes off the road for anything, but looking back he had definitely heard James whimpering for a bit before they’d gotten stuck in traffic. That should have clued him in, surely? Still, he’d continually brushed it aside and focused on what he was doing. Had he just wanted James to hold it until he could barely manage it anymore?
That thought stopped all the others. Had that been what he wanted? Had he wanted to see James overcome with need and unable to handle it himself, all so Ethan could help him? Ethan didn’t want that to be the case, because if it was it had been downright mean to put James into such a desperate place. He didn’t think he had the same interests James did, did he? He understood fetishes were more or less something a person was born with, that they couldn’t be chosen or gotten rid of. But, didn’t a person typically discover whatever kinks they may have when they were still in their teens as they were becoming aware of their sexuality?
But, for Ethan, becoming aware of his sexuality had been complicated, painful, and filled with attempts to repress all of his feelings. He’d been raised in such a deeply religious area, and not one that was known for tolerance. Every week since he was small, he listened to the preacher explain in detail how being gay was wrong, how it made a person an abomination, how it condemned them to Hell.
When Ethan realized that he liked men, it had been terrifying. He grew to despise himself and all of the feelings he could not manage to suppress. The self-loathing led to self-harm as he tried to punish himself for his feelings. As he grew up, he did stop hurting himself, he found a way to connect to the world spiritually that did not involve organized religion or threats of fire and brimstone. But, he continued to try to repress his emotions. He focused on his work and nothing else, if he worked all the time, he wouldn’t have any chance to get attached to someone. But, then there was James, and James was part of his work, so he couldn’t be avoided like everyone else. And, Ethan did get attached.
James was so loving and open with his feelings, the exact opposite of the repression Ethan had subjected himself to his entire life. Slowly but surely, Ethan found that he did not want to repress his feelings for James anymore. He wanted to be with him forever, to love him and to be loved by him. Things Ethan had never allowed himself to have before.
Could it be possible that years of trying to hide his sexuality, even from himself, had led to Ethan not knowing himself well enough to figure out all of the specific things he liked? Perhaps it was, he had certainly never explored his sexuality to the extent many people had. Or maybe, simply seeing how turned on James got from this pee thing had caused Ethan to link it to sex subconsciously? He would not rule that out, either.
He wasn’t positive if the feeling he’d gotten when helping James out had been sexual in nature, or merely just the good feelings he always got when he thought he was ‘saving’ someone. But… The emotions, whatever they were, that he’d had when James had gushed into the towel and thanked him so profusely for making it all better… That had been significantly more intense than any other ‘good deed’ had ever made Ethan feel. Even other times he’d helped James with something hadn’t made him feel quite like that.
They did eat at the pizza restaurant on the way back. Ethan reminded James to pee before they left there, and told him if he had another emergency on the way home to tug his sleeve. Ethan would pull over on the side of the road first chance he had if there was nowhere else to stop. James did need to go on the way back, he’d had a lot to drink at the restaurant and his bladder was sore after getting so full earlier, Ethan stopped right away as promised.
They got home, and Ethan mostly stopped thinking about it. There would be time to figure it all out later. It didn’t really matter right now. If he ever got curious, he knew already that James would be willing to try something with him, and for now Ethan didn’t mind letting James watch him pee every once in a while.
***
James was more or less jogging in place in line. His bladder felt like it was containing the entirety of the Atlantic Ocean and it was taking every last ounce of strength James had not to go right where stood. Ethan was beside him in line, and he wasn’t much better off. He was jumping up and down, and crossing his legs back and forth. James knew that if Ethan was acting so out of control in public, it meant he was on the very edge of flooding his pants.
If they weren’t surrounded by so many people, James would have found Ethan’s desperation ridiculously hot. If there weren’t what looked like two hundred people in line for the only urinal in the building in front of them, James would have found Ethan’s desperation ridiculously hot. If James weren’t more eager to be in front of that urinal than he’d ever been for anything in his life, James would have found Ethan’s desperation ridiculously hot.
This was such a huge place. Why was there only one restroom? And, why was that one restroom only equipped with a single urinal and nothing else? And why was the line flanked with tons and tons of noisy, gushing fountains on both sides of it? James turned to Ethan; “I can’t wait anymore!” He said. “I can’t hold it!”
Ethan paused his urgent, distressed bobbing for a second and suggested they find somewhere else to relieve themselves. As they left the tortuously long line and the agonizing, spraying fountains, James tried to remember where exactly they were.
They were… Oh, right. They were at the toilet museum. A huge, seven floor building filled with countless toilets and urinals that no one could actually use. Not even if they really, really, really had to go like James and Ethan both did! And, they couldn’t just try to sneakily pee in anything, either, because all the exhibits had guards watching for such behavior. And, even though nobody could use the toilets and urinals for real, they all had little hoses pointed at them that constantly sprayed water so a person could see how they worked.
What a weird place. Why were they here, again? Oh, now James remembered; Ethan wanted a fancy new toilet for his workplace and wanted to come here to get ideas. Except, now they were both so desperate to just go that neither of them could think straight. They could barely walk, either. With each step, James felt more and more pee gathering right at his opening and he had to hold himself tight to keep it from making it to his pants. And, even so, it felt like some drips were managing to soak through anyway.
They left the museum since there wasn’t anything they could actually pee into, and then they went outside to find the building was inside a massive forest. Great! They could go right away now! James ran for a bush and started to pull down his zipper.
Except, then suddenly he was in the Algebra classroom at his high school. Ethan was sitting in the desk next to his, which was kind of weird because he and Ethan had never been in school together. More importantly though, James still really had to pee, except now there were no trees or bushes to hide behind, nowhere he could go.
Ethan was tapping his feet and twisting around, he leaned over to James and whispered there was only one hour left in class and that the two of them should be able to make it that long. As James started to whisper back that he didn’t think he could, the bell rang. James didn’t question how Ethan had read the clock so wrong, he was too grateful that he was gonna get to pee soon. Both he and Ethan shot to their feet and ran from the classroom. They rushed down the hall towards where the restrooms were, but the hall was much, much, much longer than James remembered it ever being.
They reached the restroom, but when James pulled open the door, instead of leading to relief, it led back to the museum from earlier. All the toilets and urinals that couldn’t be used, all the gushing, trickling water. It was torture!
***
Ethan was woken by a sharp kick to his leg. He was startled by it. James didn’t normally flail around that much in his sleep, which was good. Before James, Ethan had never slept beside anyone before, he was worried it would be harder to sleep. But, sleeping beside James had actually made Ethan sleep more soundly than he thought he ever had in his life. James was warm and comforting, and Ethan could put his arms around him and drift off.
Tonight, though, James was not still. Ethan put on his glasses and saw he was tossing and turning every which way. Poor thing must be having a nightmare, Ethan thought. He considered waking James up— James was usually such a light sleeper it didn’t take much to rouse him— but, knew it wasn’t always the best idea to wake someone up in the middle of a bad dream.
James turned onto his side so he was facing Ethan, his hands going between his legs. Oh… Ethan realized then that James probably wasn’t having a bad dream, he was more likely having a pee dream. He wondered for a second how James could be woken by the smallest sound or nudge, but manage to stay sleeping through what was obviously a severe emergency. He’d probably wake up in a couple seconds… And Ethan had to admit he did look kind of cute like that, all distressed and scrunched up.
James didn’t wake up for several more seconds, just kept writhing in his sleep. Ethan decided to just get him up then. He gave James a firm nudge and his eyes popped open. James moved his hands from his crotch to push himself up. “What’s— Ah—!” James evidently became aware of his need and one of his hands went back against himself.
“You were fidgeting around quite a bit,” Ethan said. “I thought it looked as if you needed to—“
“I do!” James said. “I really do!” Thank goodness all of that had just been a dream. The toilet was just down the hall. He was glad Ethan had gotten him up, otherwise he could have easily had an accident in bed… Except, when he tried to get up, he realized there was still a pretty big chance of that happening anyway. James had to go so much that he couldn’t move. His legs were twisted together as he clutched his dick, and it felt like if he tried to move at all, he’d just start peeing.
Ethan was confused why James hadn’t sprung from the bed and rushed to relieve himself. He was so tangled up on himself, so obviously about to explode. Ethan couldn’t think of one reason why he was still sitting there and trying to hold it. “Go then, silly.”
“I don’t think I can get up,” James admitted. “It will come out. I won’t make it!”
“Of course you can make it,” Ethan said. “It’s not that far.”
James wanted to argue that it was way too far. Okay, maybe the restroom was just two doors down the hall from the bedroom, but that was still too far for James. He needed a toilet in front of him right this second, one he could get to without having to try walking while his bladder felt like it was going to pop him right in half. Before he could say anything, however, a burst of wet heat soaked into his palms. “Ah!” he whined out again.
Okay… So, Ethan guessed James really couldn’t make it down the hall to the restroom. At least not on his own, anyway. “It’s alright, James. I’ll help you. You’ll make it. I’m here…” Ethan stood and came around to James’s side of the bed. “Easy… Easy now,” he said, helping him up as slowly and carefully as he could. James remained doubled over the whole time, and his whimpering got louder and louder. “It’s not very far, it’s right down the hall.” He put an arm around James and started to help him hobble. James leaned against him, and Ethan felt his partner's body trembling with pained, urgent need. “I’ll make it all better,” Ethan said, and really, really hoped he could. James obviously didn’t even have a second left to lose, but if Ethan got him to move too fast, it could spell disaster.
They exited the bedroom and got to the hallway. Only a little bit longer. Poor James, Ethan thought. He was suspecting now that his partner likely had a history of bedwetting, if his body hadn’t woken him up on its own for this, and Ethan had needed to do it instead, there had probably been instances where he’d just peed in his sleep. If Ethan got him there in time, he thought it would feel pretty good to have rescued him from another night with damp sheets.
James gave a louder, anguished cry as they traversed the hall. “O—Oh! I’m peeing!” He said, voice strained and hoarse with panic.
Ethan reached the hand that wasn’t on James’s shoulder down towards his crotch. His hand joined James’s two and pressed. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” James said. “It’s helping. Don’t let go.”
Ethan didn’t. He held James around the shoulder and held onto his crotch as they made it the last few steps.
“I think I’ll— I’ll go when I see the toilet. It’s already coming out,” James said as they stood in the doorway.
“You won’t have an accident,” Ethan said. “I need to let go of you for a second.”
“Don’t—!”
“Just for a second,” Ethan assured. “It will help.”
“Okay…” James said reluctantly. He moaned loudly as Ethan’s hand stopped squeezing his dick. The loss of that extra pressure was agonizing.
“I need you to let go, too.”
“I can’t!”
“James…”
James gave an even louder moan as he stopped gripping himself. The very instant he did, he was peeing, the crotch of his pajama pants rapidly darkening. Ethan pretended not to notice as he pulled out the button on them and pulled James’s dripping member out. “Okay, now hurry.”
James tried to pinch his opening shut as he hurried into the restroom. He flicked the light on with the hand that wasn’t clamped around his dick, and as soon as he made eye-contact with the toilet, it didn’t matter how tight he was gripping himself. He was peeing. Urine gushed into his clenched hand, getting it wetter and wetter as he dragged himself a few more steps. He let go and aimed himself toward the toilet before he was really close enough to it.
The seat was still down, so his stream spattered the side of it as he finally made it to the correct spot. Once he was finally there and could relax, the waterfall spraying from him did not increase its intensity; he’d been going full-force from the second he entered the room. It was just now it was ending up where it should have. Droplets were hitting the seat, but he couldn’t pause himself long enough to lift it up, nor to pull his pants down the rest of the way and turn around so he could just sit. He was moaning for all he was worth, the sounds ricocheted off the walls.
“Eheh,” Ethan chuckled from outside the room. “Does that feel pretty good?”
James responded with another, even louder moan.
“Guess that answers that…”
“You… You wanna watch?” James called a bit breathlessly.
“Do you want me to?”
“Sure.”
Ethan hesitantly entered the room. He noticed James hadn’t had time to put the seat up, but that was okay, it could be wiped off. With as much force as that stream of James’s had, it was definitely getting a little damp. Again, Ethan couldn’t help but find James’s expression pretty cute. A second later he realized why; That was one of the faces James made when Ethan got him off in bed; James had needed to pee so ridiculously badly that finally going felt as good as having Ethan’s mouth on his cock did. Fulfilling a simple, unavoidable biological need was causing James to feel orgasmic.
And, knowing that he’d delivered James that much pleasure by just helping him make it down a short hallway… Well, it felt pretty good to Ethan.
James turned to Ethan as it seemed his pee was winding down. “Heh… You’re looking pretty red. You like what you see?”
“Your face is… kind of… well, adorable, I suppose,” Ethan said. “Looks like you’re… really enjoying that.”
“I am…” James said. A few more spurts shot into the bowl. “Ahhh…. All done!” He shook himself off, and got some toilet paper to wipe off the seat. “Thanks for waking me up, I was having this super crazy dream, and I think I would have wet the bed if you hadn’t nudged me in time.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” Ethan said. “You were really squirming, though. You kind of kicked me.”
“Oh… Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to do that. And… You… You looked a little… cute. When you were… fidgeting like that in your sleep. So… Needy. I guess. I just. I like helping you out with stuff, making you feel good, that sort of thing.”
“You made me feel really good,” James said. “Thank you.” |
Ethan was a workaholic. And, he often ended up with a bit of a one track mind. It wasn’t uncommon for him to drink a few coffees, get to work, and not realize his bladder was full until he finally paused and noticed his legs had been crossed for the past hour. When that happened, he would quickly stand and hurriedly make his way to his restroom to unload all the liquid that had made its way to his bladder.
Ethan hadn’t really noticed this habit of his until James had confessed his interest in seeing him desperate. It was never a full-blown emergency when this happened— certainly nothing like what he’d experienced the day James was sick and unable to answer the phone— but it was uncomfortable. Now that James had got him thinking about this subject, Ethan realized that he got stuck in his work to the point of neglecting his bladder an awful lot. He wondered if maybe James had picked up on this before Ethan himself had.
He was thinking about it a lot now because, now that he knew of James’s interest, he felt a little more awkward about his tendency to take sudden, rushed and hurried breaks. He wasn’t ashamed, that wasn’t the right word. It just… Felt weird, was all. He didn’t even really know why. James had never commented on it to him or anything like that.
He could really go for one of those sudden, rushed and hurried breaks right about now…
Once again he’d gotten very focused on a work task on his laptop, and had failed to take into account the amount of coffee he’d had. Hours had passed, his legs had subtly found themselves crossed together, and now it was time to go.
Except, this time they weren’t at his office. They were in an airport terminal waiting for their flight. Ethan hated airports, and he hated flying.
Something embarrassing always seemed to happen to Ethan whenever he got onto a plane. Once, he’d eaten something that had badly upset his stomach, then forgotten to lock the bathroom door on the plane. Another time, he’d misplaced the suit-pants he’d intended to wear before leaving his house the morning of the flight and been stuck wearing the ones from when he’d been a teenager; When he tried to get his luggage down at the end of the flight, they’d ripped right down the ass. (And, of course he just had to have worn the cheap smiley-face boxers he’d gotten at the dollar store…)
Then, there was the time the lock on his briefcase had broken and it was permanently stuck in an open position. It had been filled with important files that he couldn’t have anyone else take or look at. So, he was stuck holding onto them through the flight. Partway through, he had to pee, so he needed to carry the files with him to the restroom. It wasn’t particularly easy to aim with one hand full, but when the plane suddenly hit a small patch of turbulence, that was it. He peed all over the place, his shoes in particular getting very soaked.
Finally, there was the ‘pet relief area incident’, which Ethan thought was the worst one of all. That morning, he’d overslept for his flight. Then proceeded to make the incredibly awful mistake of drinking several cups of coffee to wake himself up as he made the mad dash for the airport. He only barely made it to his flight in time— With absolutely no chance to use the restroom at any point the entire morning. Meaning he’d boarded the plane without peeing a drop since the previous night, and then drank what was probably half of his own weight in coffee. He realized his mistakes the moment he sat down, and eagerly waited for the seatbelt light to go off once they were in the air.
When it at last did he hurried for the toilet, but the door refused to budge. He waited and waited, but it didn’t open. Eventually, some flight attendants checked it out and determined the door was malfunctioning and could not be opened until they’d landed and could get a technician working on it. More importantly, Ethan couldn’t pee until they’d landed. And it was a long flight. What followed were some of the most agonizing hours of Ethan’s entire life. That day, Ethan discovered that it was possible to need the toilet so badly that the pain in your bladder migrated its way all the way up and down your back.
But, at last the plane had landed, and apart from a few little wet spots, Ethan had made it. He bolted from the plane and into the airport as fast as he could. Which wasn’t all that fast since he was barely even able to walk. The good news was he found the restroom pretty quickly. The bad news was that the line for the men’s room was gigantic. He hadn’t been the only person on his flight that had been inconvenienced by the door issue, and plenty of other flights had just landed as well.
Ethan had taken one look at the line spilling out of that door and knew he wouldn’t make it through dry. Out of his mind with pained, desperate urgency he tried to find a different answer. He spotted another door in-between the restrooms, designated as a pet relief area; a room where people could bring service animals to pee before getting onto flights.
Technically, peeing was allowed there.
If Ethan had been in his right mind, he never would have considered what he did next. But, he hadn’t been in his right mind. He’d been very far from it. He dashed into the room, finding it housed a patch of fake grass and a cutesie little fire-hydrant decoration. He reached behind him for the doorknob and discovered it didn’t actually lock. But, by that point he couldn’t care less. He just tore at his zipper and aimed at the patch of grass before releasing gallons of coffee into it.
It took him a very long time to empty himself. The relief of letting go was helping him think more clearly again and he started to feel embarrassed by what he was doing. But, he hadn’t had much of a choice. It was either this, or wetting himself. He tried to hurry up and finish, but he’d drank so much and held it so long that it just went on and on.
Before he was drained, the door opened and a woman stepped in with her dog. “Oh!” she exclaimed and he quickly tilted his head to look at her. Her mouth was a wide “O” and one of her hands overtop of it, in an almost comical display of shock. But, Ethan saw nothing comical about it. He tried to shield himself from her view a bit with one of his hands, but the damage was done.
She just stood there for a moment, staring. Ethan felt his entire body flashing hot and cold with humiliation as he tried to say something. “I—It… It was an emergency. Sorry. I— Sorry…” And through it all, he kept peeing.
The woman hadn’t reported him or anything. She’d been remarkably understanding once he’d explained everything to her and that he just hadn’t been able to wait any longer. But, nevertheless, she’d laughed. Ethan was nowhere near ready to see the humor in the situation himself, though.
Thankfully, all of those things had happened before Ethan had met James. Ethan had never even told James about them, they were some of the most humiliating experiences of his life. Although… Now Ethan knew James would have gotten a kick out of hearing about a couple of them, at least.
Ethan really wanted to avoid any similar incidents this time, especially now that James was here. He should probably pee now, lest something bizarre and unpleasant happen otherwise. But, to go he’d have to walk all around the airport to find a toilet, which could take a while. And, a quick glance to his watch told him the plane was supposed to have already started boarding several minutes ago. With his luck, they’d finally be called to the gate before he’d finished and the flight would be missed.
He’d hold it until they got on the plane and he could use the toilet there. A few more minutes passed, and they still weren’t called. “James, do you think there’s enough time for me to use the restroom before the flight?”
“You have to go?”
“A bit,” Ethan said. “But, we were supposed to board ten minutes ag—“
Before he could finish, they began calling on people to board the plane. So, it looked like Ethan’s decision had been made for him. He didn’t think it was too big of a problem. It wasn’t an emergency. He could hold it a while longer. He’d go on the plane.
That turned out to be much easier said than done. Ethan wasn’t allowed to use the restroom before take-off, which was fine and not something he was going to make a fuss over. When he fastened his seat-belt, though, he became a bit more aware of how full he actually was. But, he rested easily knowing he could pee as soon as they were in the air.
Then, take-off was delayed for whatever reason. They just sat there for a long, long while. This was a little more annoying. The fact that Ethan was seated a few rows down from a perfectly usable toilet as his bladder throbbed made him feel like he needed to go worse. He brought one up over his lap and jiggled it a bit, impatient.
“Is it bad?” James asked.
“Not that bad,” Ethan assured. “It’s just… irritating, for lack of a better word. Being stuck sitting here when I know there’s a place I can take care of this just a few feet away.”
Ethan kept agitatedly bouncing his leg until finally the plane lifted into the air. Then, he kept his eyes glued to the seatbelt sign. As soon as it went off, then he could go, and he wouldn’t have to worry about this any longer.
The lights soon went off with a soft ‘ding’, and Ethan set to work getting his seatbelt apart. He had a little trouble, and before he could do it, someone else beat him into the restroom. He groaned, finally getting himself unfastened as he slumped back in his seat. Great. More waiting.
His focus went from the lights above his head to the door of the restroom that he was starting to need rather urgently. The person in there was certainly taking their time, and Ethan drummed his fingers against his armrest as his annoyance grew. This was one of the reasons he hated flying, everything felt so tedious and like it took way too long. And, there were so many pointless rules; Why hadn’t he simply been allowed to relieve himself in there prior to takeoff? Especially if they were just going to stay put on the ground for so long… And if airlines were insistent upon cramming as many people onto each flight as they could, would it kill them to design planes with more toilet facilities?
He knew there was likely another toilet in first class, but because of all the idiotic rules that were so strictly enforced, it was unlikely he’d be permitted to make use of it. Not that he should try, either. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t wait long enough for someone else to finish in the restroom. He considered walking over to the door, to ensure no one else would beat him when it finally opened again. But, when he stood, all the liquid he was containing rushed downwards at once, causing his desire to pee to deepen and bloom into a more severe state of actual need. He imagined himself standing outside the door to the toilet with his legs pressed together and his face scrunched and sweaty with urgency. How embarrassing would that be?
No, he’d stay seated until the door opened, then quickly and quietly head to the toilet and get his relief. He could wait.
The door, at last, opened and the person come out. Ethan released a thankful sigh and made to stand up again—
Ding!
Ethan’s heart sank at that sound. The seatbelt light was back on. An announcement was made regarding upcoming turbulence, stating that all passengers needed to remain in their seats now. He groaned to himself. This wasn’t good. His bladder had begun loosening the instant he’d seen the door open, and it pulsed with confused urgency when he sat back down and fastened his seatbelt, resigned to holding it even longer.
“Ethan?” James asked. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Ethan said. “But, I do need to get over there pretty soon…”
James patted his hand over Ethan’s. “This shouldn’t last long,” he assured. “You’ll be peeing before you know it!”
Ethan’s face reddened. ‘Peeing before he knew it’ was kind of what he was starting to get afraid of… “N—Not so loud, James, there are other people here.”
“Oh, right. Sorry…” James said with a blush. Sometimes, he just completely forgot his surroundings. Especially when something had captured his attention. And, Ethan had really, really captured his attention. To look at him, you wouldn’t think Ethan was all that desperate yet. The way his legs were crossed seemed perfectly casual, and his fingers tightening over the armrests looked more like the white-knuckled nerves of a man with a fear of flying than the pained clenching of someone restraining a full bladder. But, James knew the real reason Ethan was so tense, and the way his fingers would suddenly dig into the armrest with even more fervor every few seconds as he apparently fought down new pangs and surges of need… Well, it was pretty cute in James’s opinion.
And, since James knew Ethan could go as soon as the seatbelt light went out again, he didn’t feel too concerned for his partner. He’d seen Ethan more desperate than this a few times. He knew he could make it easily and wouldn’t get too upset or panicky. He just had to wait for the turbulence to be over, and then—
As the plane began to bounce up and down, Ethan made an odd, strangled surprised noise that James had never heard come out of his mouth before. His fingernails clenched into the armrest so hard they left imprints and James noticed Ethan’s thighs tensing together.
Being in a moving car going over a bumpy road when you had to pee was one of the worst experiences in the world. But, it had nothing on holding it while a plane jostled its way through the air. Every few seconds as he was bobbed up and down in his seat, Ethan felt like his bladder was being bounced and tossed all through his body, up into his throat, down into his feet. Every nerve-ending was assailed by urgent, needy spikes of pure desperation. It felt like his urethra was burning as it tried not to give way to the flood within him. During a few particularly intense bounces, teensy drops slid their way down his shaft to bloom warm and sticky against the front of his boxers. The small amount of wetness teased him as he continued to be jostled, making his bladder all the more eager to spray out everything in an uncontrolled burst.
His hand went to wrap around his dick, trying to plug himself shut. He felt ridiculous; Holding himself for dear life when there was a toilet just a few steps from his current location. But, even if he decided to screw the rules and get up, he knew it would be a bad idea. He’d injure himself trying to move around when the plane was this jittery.
James’s enjoyment began to fade when he saw Ethan grab himself. He was grabbing himself in a public location. He was grabbing himself on a crowded plane. His mature, always in control boyfriend, was clutching his dick and crossing his legs while absolutely surrounded by people. The turbulence was obviously too much for his bladder, and he was having a true emergency. James’s delight at seeing Ethan all cute and needy evaporated like water on a hot skillet. If only the contents of Ethan’s bladder could evaporate with it.
James turned as best he could to shield Ethan’s body from anyone who might see what he was doing. Good thing Ethan had taken the window seat, he was more hidden this way. He had at least a bit more privacy. “It will be over soon,” James said, trying to make him feel better.
Ethan sure hoped so. The turbulence had caused his need to go from ‘urgent-but-manageable’ to ‘oh-my-god-I’m-gonna-wet-myself!’ in the blink of an eye. He just kept clutching and clutching and clutching. But, still he felt more and more urine beading at his tip and slipping out with each bounce.
James’s eyes were glued to the seatbelt light now. Ethan’s eyes were scrunched shut in agony. The lights stayed on. The plane kept shaking. The liquid in Ethan’s bladder felt more and more like it was about to squeeze its way out of him. He needed to pee right this very instant. He was going to pee right this very instant. And, unless a toilet could magically materialize in front of him, he was going to do it in his pants.
Miraculously, even as he thought with each passing second that he couldn’t possibly hold it one moment more, he continued to keep it in. The dripping was near-constant by that point, but the majority of the typhoon inside him stayed where it was supposed to. It wasn’t easy though. It was painful. Every time he was jostled, Ethan felt like he was being ripped into a million pieces. Both his hands were pressed firmly against his cock, his legs were coiled, his thighs were squeezed, and the area between them got damper and damper with a mixture of overtaxed sweat and uncontainable urine.
He could barely register it when James started rubbing his back, a hand gently workings its way down his tense spine. “It’s okay, Ethan.” James said. “It should be any minute now.”
Ethan didn’t have any minute. He only had this one. His pee needed to come out right now. If he couldn’t get up and use the toilet, the seat would be soaked. It was a wonder it hadn’t been drenched already. Ethan tried not to think of how much money he’d owe the airline after he coated their seat in a bucket of his urine. Tried not to think of all the discussions that would need to take place about it. How he’d be standing there, his wet, clammy pants clinging to his legs as whoever was in charge of the airline informed him of his responsibility to pay for the damage he’d caused.
He tried not to think about how, when that happened, at least his bladder would be empty. He tried not to think of how good that emptiness would feel. How good the release would feel. He tried not to think about peeing. He tried to think about constellations, about the stars and the sky, and the beauty of the natural world. About the nation’s rivers, gushing and pouring and swishing unrestrained, letting their liquid flow where it needed to. He thought about peeing. He thought about peeing. He thought about peeing.
But, as much as he thought about peeing, he still did not actually pee. Not completely, anyway. The drips refused to stop, but he still had the majority of the control. He wasn’t gushing like he needed to. He wasn’t spurting like he needed to. He wasn’t peeing like he really, really needed to!
Ding!
Ethan peeled open his eyes and looked to the seatbelt light. It was off! He could go! Oh, thank God! He could finally go! “James, please help with my seatbelt?” He asked, voice cracking with pitiful need.
James quickly unlatched it for him. “You can make it!” He said encouragingly, but too loud for Ethan’s taste.
To Ethan’s dismay, someone in one of the rows in front of them reached the restroom while Ethan was still trying to stand up in a way that wouldn’t make him explode. He grimaced. Please… No more waiting! But, no one heard his silent plea. Unlike before, he did not sit back down to wait. He didn’t care anymore if the entire flight saw him doing the world’s most obvious pee-dance in front of the door to the toilet. If he sat back down without peeing, he wouldn’t manage to stand up again without an accident.
James quickly stood and gave Ethan as much space as he possibly could to get out into the aisle. Ethan dragged himself to the door to wait. His hands were nestled between his thighs, and he knew everyone could see them, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that they saw him tangle his legs together as soon as he was outside the door. He didn’t care that they saw him begin to bounce in place. He didn’t care that they saw him jump from foot to foot. He didn’t care about anything that didn’t involve that door finally opening and granting him access to the relief he needed worse than he’d thought it possible to need anything.
He was sure it would be soon. Just another minute or so. Then he could rush in there, yank down his zip and just go and go and go and it would feel so wonderful…
Ding!
Ethan cringed. He was beginning to hate that sound more than he’d ever hated anything in his entire life. A flight attendant came up to him. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I know you… Need to use the facilities…” She trailed off, and he noticed the way she was staring at his pained, desperate twisting and felt himself going red. “But, we will be landing soon, so you will need to return to your seat.”
“I… No,” Ethan said.
“No?”
“I have been waiting through the entire flight,” Ethan said. “I will only be a moment. I won’t sit back down until after I’ve gone.”
“I understand you wanted to use the restroom,” the flight attendant said. “But, we can’t have anyone up while we land. I’m sorry.”
The door opened, the person whom had been occupying the restroom shuffled past them and sat back down.
Ethan put his hand on the door, “It will only be a second.”
“We will be on the ground very soon, sir,” the flight attendant told him.
Ethan couldn’t believe this. He wanted to beg her. Please, please, I can’t wait anymore! Please let me! He came dangerously close to doing exactly that; “Ma’am, I know there are regulations and everything, but it’s… It’s urgent.”
“I’m sorry,” she said once more. “You know how it is.”
Ethan didn’t really know how it was! He just had to pee! He’d be done in just a couple minutes! Couldn’t they give him just a couple minutes!? It was all he needed! He couldn’t make it! He’d explode! He’d die if he didn’t go! “Please?” He hated how his voice sounded. He sounded like a little kid begging his teacher for a hall-pass. Not a full grown man.
“Sir, do I have to get security?”
“Nah—No,” Ethan stammered. “I’ll… I’ll go. Sorry.” He limped and hobbled his way back to his seat.
James had seen everything, and as soon as Ethan had sat back down and James had helped him with his seatbelt, James rubbed his arm. “Landing… Landing doesn’t usually take that long…”
“I hate planes…” Ethan replied, writhing his hips and kneading his crotch with his clutched hands. “If people were meant to fly, they’d have wings. I— Ooooh….” His rant was cut off when an incredibly violent spasm worked its way through his bladder. This time, it wasn’t just a drip that came out, but a stream. A short, two second stream, but a stream nevertheless. His control was weakening and fraying at the edges. He was losing it.
James had actually heard Ethan’s pee hissing out for a couple seconds there, but tried not to let on that he had. The plane started bouncing around again as it began to descend and Ethan moaned and grimaced, and James heard the tiny hissing sound a couple more times before he managed to clamp it back off again. There had to be some way to fix this. Ethan was going to have an accident at this rate. James had never seen him this desperate. James had never seen anyone this desperate. James thought of what they had in their carry-ons… But, airports had regulations about bringing containers that held large volumes of liquid onto planes, so he knew there’d be nothing there. What Ethan was carrying was definitely more than a ‘travel-size’ anything could hold. Not that it was a particularly great idea for Ethan to expose himself and take a leak into something in the middle of a plane.
It seemed the only tool at his disposal was to just try and distract Ethan somehow. He didn’t know how long Ethan could really be distracted for at this point. James knew anything short of getting Ethan in front of a urinal within the next thirty seconds wasn’t going to be all that helpful. But, this was all he had.
“Hey, Ethan?” James said. “Could you list all the mountains you know, and their heights and locations?”
“I— What?” Ethan squeaked.
“Just, list them,” James said. “I want to hear it.”
“Well… There’s… Ah…” Ethan gasped and squeezed himself tighter. James thought for a second his crotch was gonna be sore at this rate… “E—Everest in Nepal. 29 thousand f-feet—You know that. That one’s easy…”
“Uh-huh. What are some harder ones?”
“Kanchenjunga… Th—That one’s in the Himalayas. It’s 28 thousand feet, and— Ohhh, I have to peeeee—“
“Don’t think about that,” James interrupted his whine. “Don’t think about that. Think about the mountains.”
“Ch—Cho Oyu. A—Also in the Himalayas… Can’t… Can’t hold it!”
“You can! Just try not to focus on it!”
“Broad Peak… I—In Pakistan… It’s 26 thousand feet…” Ethan kept listing them off. His eyes were squeezed shut as he choked out each word. His body trembling and shaking, tangled up on itself so, so tight. Every so often he’d moan in agony and remind James that he couldn’t wait, and James would insist to him that he could, just so long as he kept his mind occupied with something else.
At last, the plane was on the ground, and Ethan was still rattling off the names of the mountains. James was grateful they were close to the front of the plane, they could get off fast. James grabbed both of their bags and gingerly helped Ethan up. Ethan could not really get up, he remained hunched over, practically doubled up on himself and with both hands still at his crotch. James hoped that they’d let Ethan just use the toilet on the plane and he wouldn’t be forced to try and make it to a restroom in the airport.
James wanted to save him the embarrassment of pleading with the flight attendants again, however. So, he adopted a stance similar to Ethan’s, twisted up and clutching at his dick. He walked in a pained hobble like Ethan did, too, and the two approached the front of the plane. James removed a hand from his crotch and faked a wince as he gestured to the door for the restroom. “Ohh, miss?” he said to the flight attendant. “Could we please use the restroom here? We did not have a chance to go all through the flight, and—“
“No,” the flight attendant interrupted. “Sorry, but you can’t use it while we’re on the ground.”
James hopped in place and squirmed, “Please? It’s an emergency!”
“No,” she repeated. “Sorry.”
“But—“
“L—Let’s just go, James,” Ethan said. “Please?”
James decided that maybe leaving the plane would get Ethan to a toilet faster than arguing would. Every step made Ethan leak more. He felt warm wetness snaking down his leg. His bladder was simply impossible to contain anymore. Once they’d entered the airport, James and Ethan both looked around desperately. James saw the restroom first. It was close, thank goodness! “You’re almost there, Ethan!” James said. “You can make it!”
Ethan tried, he followed James towards the restroom. He’d never been so overjoyed to see a men’s room door in his life. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and was blessed with a fairly empty restroom with two long rows of urinals, one row of stalls, and zero line for anything. The only other person was a guy washing his hands at the sink. He turned a bit when he heard Ethan and James come in, and his gaze lingered on Ethan’s absolutely desperate form for a few seconds. Ethan felt himself heating up, but tried to push it from his mind while the guy walked past him and out of the restroom.
As he rushed for the closest urinal, Ethan fumbled at his zip, cringing at all the dampness that had collected around it. He had it down quickly, at least. As he took the last few steps to the urinal, he was already peeing, but a second later he was in the right place and everything was flowing where it needed to. The instant the first drops of pee hit the urinal, Ethan released a moan that would not have been out of place in a porno flick. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yesssssssssssssssssssss…” He breathed in and out heavily, flinging his head back as he just moaned and moaned and moaned.
James exhaled a relieved sigh of his own as he took the urinal next to Ethan’s. “Told you you could make it,” James said as he got himself out.
“I… just… I…” Ethan was at a loss for words. His mind was totally blank. The absolutely incredible sensation of release had melted the part of his brain responsible for speech. He could process nothing except for how good this felt. His pee sprayed furiously into the urinal, and the feeling was almost akin to an orgasm. His eyes rolled back in his head a bit.
James began to pee beside him, “Ahh, that’s better!” he said with a small laugh. He just thought Ethan was so adorable, so out of control as he got lost in the pleasure of his relief. “Awww, poor Ethan!” James remarked. “You had to go real bad!”
“So… Bad…” Ethan gasped out, still gushing like an erupting geyser. Even though Ethan had started peeing before James had even unzipped, by the time James was shaking himself off, Ethan was still spraying like a broken faucet.
James had been counting in his head from the second he’d heard Ethan start peeing, knowing he was going to want some idea of how much had been in there. They’d passed the one minute mark already, and the two minute one was fast approaching.
118…119…120… James counted off in his head. Ethan had broken two minutes, and was still going strong. It just kept pouring and pouring, James started to wonder if his partner had a secret, second bladder in his body somewhere. His stream tapered off into a trickle for a second, then returned to its forceful blasting for another ten. At last, Ethan’s tip was merely dribbling and he shook himself off with a massive sigh.
“That…” Ethan said as he tried to catch his breath. “Was intense…”
“It sure was… You went for two minutes and thirty three seconds!”
“Eheh, you were counting?” Ethan asked.
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine…” Ethan said as he went to wash his hands. “Oh, jeez. That was embarrassing. Can’t believe I behaved in such a way in front of all those people.”
“It’s okay,” James said. “I was blocking their view as best I could.... But, I think they probably heard you say you were gonna wet yourself a couple times there when I was having you recite the mountain stuff.”
Ethan reddened, “And that guy at the sink when we came in…”
“It’s… It’s okay!” James repeated. “Anyone who saw or heard you… They’ve probably had emergencies too. They get it! Don’t feel too bad!”
Ethan looked down at himself. His pants felt pretty clammy, but nothing showed. “Just… Thank goodness I wore black pants today, I guess,” he said. |
James stared out the window of the taxi as it approached their hotel. He’d dreamed of going to New York City all his life, and his first impressions were everything he’d imagined. He’d never seen such tall buildings, so many vivid colors, so much activity. It was all so exciting it made him want to burst!
Beside him, Ethan also felt like bursting, but for completely different reasons. He seriously couldn’t believe this. He had to pee like crazy. Again. Already. The need had made itself known with a sudden, sharp tingling urgency as he and James got their luggage before leaving the airport. But, Ethan hadn’t stopped at a restroom again then, thinking that surely it had to be his imagination. He’d just peed his head off for over two minutes not too long ago, there was no way there was even one more drop of liquid in his body after all that.
But, now as they were stuck in traffic inside a taxi, he realized it hadn’t been his imagination. He genuinely really, really had to go again. He couldn’t understand it. He hadn’t had anything to drink since before they’d boarded the plane, he’d gushed out what was surely at least two gallons of pee a little over an hour ago— How could there possibly be anything left?
But, the pangs from his midsection were telling him that there was something left. There was a lot left. It freaked him out, to be completely honest. He didn’t usually have to go this frequently. Normally, he could go several hours between pee breaks without an issue, but here he was feeling full to the brim again after just one? Was there something wrong? Was this what overactive bladder was? Did he have an infection? Maybe he’d held so much on the plane that he’d managed to actually break something…
He was just… He was just so tired of holding it! He’d been desperate so much already today, he didn’t want to go through it again! He jiggled his leg and hoped they’d get to the hotel soon.
James noticed him fidgeting, and knew now that there was only one reason Ethan would act so restless. He had to go again already. James thought back and realized maybe he should have advised Ethan to have one more pee before they left the airport. Sometimes, after James had been desperate and gotten his relief, he’d find he needed to go really badly again not too long after. He wasn’t a biologist, but figured it was just because his holding muscles had gotten worn out from the prolonged desperation. James had always called this experience the ‘pee aftershocks’, and it looked as though Ethan was experiencing them first hand at the moment.
The taxi-driver had told them at the start that they were only a few blocks from the hotel, so there was no doubt in James’s mind that Ethan would make it, even if the traffic was bad. James was excited; Seeing Ethan have a badly needed pee two times in a row would be a fantastic start to his vacation.
They got to the hotel pretty quickly, and Ethan and James both wheeled their suitcases inside. “James, please watch our things for a moment and get us checked in,” Ethan requested, walking stiff-legged toward the hallway he hoped led to a restroom. “I have no idea what’s wrong with me, but I already need to relieve myself again.”
James was about to try and explain how that was normal and Ethan didn’t need to be concerned for his health, but his partner had already dashed off. James giggled a little. He was so cute when he was in such a big hurry! James was a little disappointed he wasn’t going to get to watch him pee, but what he’d seen at the airport urinal was already going to give James delightful fodder for his fantasies for years to come. Just the memory of Ethan’s red, slack-jawed face as he gushed and gushed sent a surge of heat all up and down James’s spine.
After James had gotten the room key, Ethan had returned. His legs were still stiff and he wobbled a bit from one foot to the next. “Let’s go up to the room now, James,” Ethan said briskly. “I was unable to find any restrooms on this floor.”
“Oh,” James said. “Sorry.”
“It’s quite alright. It’s not an emergency, by any means. I am, admittedly, quite uncomfortable, but the room is not far, is it?”
“Sixth floor,” James said. He knew their room would be easy to find once they got there, too. The front desk lady had said it was the first door on the left from the elevator. “But, there’s an elevator, so it’s not that far.”
Ethan was already hurrying in the direction of the elevator. He needed to go quite a bit more than he’d let on to James. It was just… He was so embarrassed to admit he was already desperate after having just peed. What in the world was going on with him? He mashed the button for the elevator, perhaps a bit more harshly, and certainly a few more times than was really necessary. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for it. Why was it taking so long? Didn’t it understand he had somewhere he needed to be?
“Patience, Ethan,” James said. “We’re on vacation. You don’t need to be so tense.”
“Right, right,” Ethan said. “I know…”
The elevator finally opened and Ethan dashed in with James following after him. Ethan gave pause before selecting the button for the sixth floor. He thought to himself for a second; He had some of the most unlucky experiences of anyone he knew. If he were less inclined towards logic and reason, he may have even believed himself to be jinxed. So, how likely was it that if he tried to go upstairs using this elevator while really needing to use the toilet, the elevator would get stuck?
Before he could consider it further, James pressed the six, and the doors slid shut. Ethan watched the number in the display above the door tick up, holding more than just his breath. To his shock and relief, it reached the number six and the doors quickly opened. He’d be peeing soon.
James led him to the first door on the right and slid the electronic key in. Ethan stepped in place as he watched the lights on the handle blink red, yellow and green… Then they all turned red. James took it back out, puzzled. Deciding that maybe he’d put it in upside down, he tried again. The same thing happened once more.
Ethan cringed, stepping a bit faster, “Um… James, could you hurry up a little? It’s starting to… Get kind of bad over here.”
James kept trying, but no matter how many times he inserted the card, it would be rejected. Finally, Ethan took it from him and tried to open the door himself, to no avail.
“I could go down and ask them for some help,” James said.
Ethan bobbed up and down. His bladder was starting to sear, the tiny, little muscles in charge of holding back the liquid within him felt like they were burning. They were so exhausted, so sore and so very, very tired. Like how his legs felt after he’d run around too much. “I guess you could try that. You’re sure this is the right room?”
“Yes,” James said. “They told me; First door on the left.”
Ethan looked at James for a second, then turned to look down each side of the hallway. “James. This is the first door on the right.”
“Oh…” James said, reddening. “Yeah. That probably explains it.”
Ethan shook his head, scrambling to the door on the other side of the elevator. This time, when the card went into the slot, it opened right away. Ethan dashed in, quickly located the toilet he needed, tugged down his zip, and released into it. This time, his stream was a lot weaker, pretty slow. Not the massive, gushing firehose he’d unleashed at the airport. The relief wasn’t nearly as mind-numbing, either. He exhaled a bit through his nose.
James stood in the doorway, “Sorry…”
Ethan tried to give a little push to speed his flow up, but it continued to be little more than a trickle. “You didn’t do that on purpose did you?” he asked. He knew James was really bad at directions; Ethan could count on one hand the number of times James hadn’t mixed up left and right when they were trying to find a place. Still…
“Nah—No!” James insisted. “You know me. I do that all the time!”
“So, you didn’t just want me to wait longer so you could watch me squirm?” Ethan asked.
“No, I wouldn’t do that to you—“
“Because,” Ethan added as he finished up and tucked himself back into his pants. “If you wanted to watch me squirm, all you’d have to do is ask…” Oh, God. What was he saying?! When he went to wash his hands, he stared at himself in the mirror to find his face was fire-engine red.
He turned around to see James’s was as well. “Wha…What?” He stammered as he looked at his partner in shock.
Ethan covered his mouth. “Oh… Oh, I don’t… I’m not thinking clearly.” He really, really wasn’t. It was just… When he let go at the airport earlier, he’d never felt anything so amazing. So much fear, worry and pain instantly changing into mind-bendingly wonderful pleasure. It had felt like orgasming. It had felt like orgasming for over two minutes straight; And what kind of person would ever object to a two minute long orgasm? Just… Over two minutes of sheer, unadulterated bliss rattling through the most sensitive parts of his body. Maybe he did have some kind of fetishistic interest in holding his bladder, or at least in releasing it when it was painfully full.
If this was something he liked, he knew that it was fine. He knew it hurt no one. He knew it was perfectly natural and normal for people to develop interests in things that fell outside the boundaries of what constituted ‘typical’ sexual activity. Millions of people had fetishes for unusual things and activities, and so long as no one was harmed, it wasn’t anything to be worked up over.
But, still, the shame was there. The shame, Ethan knew, was the product of his upbringing. The unhealthy ‘education’ on sexual matters he'd received. The lessons that had been imprinted into his mind from an early age that stated anything beyond a man and woman having sex in the missionary position for the sole purpose of procreation was sinful, wrong and disgusting. He knew the people who had filled his head with these notions were wrong. But, he also knew that when a person received a message over and over and over again during the earliest and most crucial stages of their brain’s development, it made that message very hard to unlearn and shake off.
He hadn’t felt as anxious inside when he’d thought all he’d been doing was indulging James a little bit in his own interest, but now that he was starting to find enjoyment in it himself… He felt strange. He tried to explain this to James.
James more or less just repeated his own thoughts back to him; “This doesn’t hurt anyone. Pretty much everybody’s interested in something weird. You just got some bad info growing up and that’s making it hard to accept yourself and who you are, but you’re not the one that’s wrong, all the people who told you you need to feel ashamed are the ones in the wrong.” And even if James had more or less just said things Ethan already knew, hearing them spoken aloud by another person made him believe them much more strongly. “So, if you want to mess around with this stuff and just see how you like it, that’s fine.”
“Heh… Okay…” Ethan said. “Um… I just have to make sure; You don’t think I broke my bladder or something, right? I don’t normally have to go so often…”
“When you went just now, was there any burning or stinging?”
“No.”
“Then you’re probably fine,” James said. “Just, sometimes if you hold it a long time, your muscles get sore for a bit and don’t want to have to hold it again. I mean, you got super, super desperate on the flight. I’ve never even seen anyone need to go that badly before, and I’ve watched a lot of videos of desperation, and—“
“James,” Ethan interrupted.
“Sorry.”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I think that was only… The third worst bit of desperation I’ve experienced?”
“You’ve had to go even worse than that before?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “One of those times was actually on a different flight, before I met you.” He proceeded to tell James the story of when he’d needed to resort to peeing in the area set aside for service animals. He was surprised when, instead of laughing, James had just taken his hand.
“Oh, you poor thing!” James said with a smile. “You must have been so embarrassed!”
“I was,” Ethan said. “I’m just glad she didn’t get security on me, or something.”
“Heh. Wish I could have been there, I would have guarded the door until you were done.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t have just followed me in to watch?”
James blushed and laughed, “Well, I didn’t say it would have been easy for me to just stand around outside while knowing what you were up to in there…”
“Heh…”
“So, was that the worst you’ve had to go?”
“No, the worst was when I had to take this extra long drive. I had to keep going through the night, and drank all of these massive sodas to help keep myself awake. But, when I started needing to pee, everywhere was closed. The fast food restaurants were all drive-thru only, the gas stations were only running the pumps and you couldn’t go inside to pee… And the road I was on was barren with nothing to hide behind, and there were just enough other cars going by that I couldn’t pull over and take care of it that way. I ended up driving with one hand because I had to… kinda grab myself.”
“Aw…”
“Finally, I saw a rest stop that was open, and I was already going a bit the instant I saw the sign. I don’t think I’ve ever parked as fast as I did then. The area was totally deserted, and the quiet was kind of eerie. This was way out in the country, and I’d seen a few bobcats and coyotes darting across the road while I’d been driving. So, I was kind of freaked out.
“I was just trying to get to the toilet. I could barely walk. Every step was making me… go more. My eyes were actually watering from how desperate I was. Then, I heard the paws of some animal running towards me. I just froze, I couldn’t have been more than two steps from the door to the toilets, but I just froze. It was so dark I couldn’t tell what the creature was, but it was moving really fast, and I could tell from the shadow that it had these huge pointed ears and a massive tail. I thought for sure it was another coyote and that I was about to be attacked. But, I couldn’t move to get away, I was just stuck to my spot.
“Then I felt it. I must have been peeing from the moment I heard the thing coming, but I didn’t realize it for a few seconds; my terror was suddenly being mixed with relief as I just peed all down my leg. I tried to stop, but I just couldn’t. I’d needed to go too badly, and I’d just been so startled that there wasn’t anything I could do. So, I just stood there, peeing uncontrollably as this thing got closer and closer. And you know the worst part?”
“What?”
“Just as I was finishing up, the creature got close enough to the building’s lights that I could finally tell what it was; It was somebody’s German Shepherd. It hadn’t even been a coyote to start with. The worst it could have done was just lick me to death, and here I was peeing myself in terror from the thing.”
Now, James did laugh. “Did its owner see you?”
“Unfortunately, yes. He apologized a few times for his dog getting loose, and I tried to stand further from the building so he couldn’t see all the wet spots on my pants. But, I’d seriously flooded them, so there was a chance he could at least smell it. Hopefully he thought it was coming from the dirty rest-stop toilets though, instead of from me. I hadn’t brought any spare clothes, so I had to finish the drive sitting on top of a towel, with the heat on to try and dry myself off.”
“When was this?” James asked.
Ethan mumbled something.
“Hm?”
“It was a couple months before I met you,” Ethan admitted. “I… I wet myself at the age of thirty three because I was scared by a German Shepherd.”
“Well…” James said. “The last time I wet the bed, I was in college. And to make matters worse, I hadn’t even been drunk or partying or anything. I literally just didn’t wake up in time, like a little kid. So, don’t feel bad. Things happen.”
“Thanks.”
James smiled, “Let’s get ready for bed soon. And, for the record, I’d love to watch you squirm.” |
Scratch that, I had a lot of time today. There's a more explicit scene in this one, if you want to skip over that, the beginning and end are marked in purple.
***
The next morning, before Ethan and James left their hotel room, Ethan turned to his partner. “I was thinking… Would you like it if, while we’re out today, I didn’t go?” he asked, causing James’s eyes to widen.
“Wh—Wha’?” James stammered as he looked at Ethan in surprise.
“I relieved myself a bit ago after I woke up,” Ethan said. “Would it be nice for you if I didn’t do so again until we return here later?”
“Oh… Oh my gosh…” James stumbled over his words. “I—I didn’t think— Are you sure?”
“I’m sure that I want to try it,” Ethan said as he took James’s hand. “Relationships are all about risk and trying new things, even if you can’t predict the outcome. You’ve made me happier than anything else in the world ever has, and I’m willing to explore this further with you.”
“Really!?” James smiled, trembling all over.
“Yes, really,” Ethan said.
“Oh… Oh… Okay!” James said as he tried to regain some semblance of control over himself. “Yeah. I would like that. I really, really, really would. But, first I have to make some rules, okay? Just to make sure you stay safe.”
“Rules?” Ethan repeated nervously. “To stay safe? This isn’t dangerous, is it?”
“Not if you listen to your body,” James said. “If you start feeling pain, you have to tell me right away, and I’ll get you somewhere you can go as fast as possible. Never hold it after it starts to hurt, unless there is no other option.”
“Oh,” Ethan said. “The incident I informed you of yesterday, where I had to pee in the pet relief area? Partway through that flight, I got this weird pain in my back. Just beneath my ribcage. It hurt really bad, I’d never felt anything like it before.”
“That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about,” James said. “If you can help it, don’t hold it anymore if you feel that way. Something bad could happen to you, and I really, really don’t want that. Another thing is, since we’re doing this in a public place, if you start to think you might have an accident, let me know immediately. I don’t want us to make a mess someone else will be stuck dealing with. And, the good news is that everywhere we’re going will have public toilets close by, so I’m sure I can get you to one if you tell me I need to.”
“Okay,” Ethan felt himself going red. He was pretty confident he could hold it all day without being in danger of an accident, just so long as he didn’t drink a whole bunch. He’d be doing a lot of walking, and that would make him sweat some, too. Still, he understood James’s concern.
“And,” James added. “If you start to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable at any point, and you just want to stop, just say the word. I won’t make you keep going if you’re unhappy. This trip’s supposed to be fun, so don’t think you have to put yourself through misery just to give me some extra entertainment. In fact, I think we should have a word you can use if you want to stop. Like ‘celery’.”
“‘Celery’?” Ethan repeated.
“Uh-huh. If you want to stop, just say that, and we will.”
“Okay… Any particular reason you picked that word?”
“It’s supposed to be like code, I guess,” James said.
“Heh… Okay. Let’s do this.”
James beamed, “Oh, Ethan! Thank you for this! I love you so much! I just… I can’t believe you’re opening up enough to be willing to try this for me! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
Ethan grinned and hugged James, “I’m thinking it might end up being pretty fun, James.”
***
Ethan had his usual coffees with breakfast, and then they headed out to explore the city. For a long while, they were both so distracted by all the sights and activities that they didn’t think too much about Ethan’s challenge. Every so often, Ethan would get another drink from a street vendor, but his bladder was the furthest thing from his mind. Even as they ate lunch, with James excusing himself to take a leak and Ethan having a big glass of water, he didn’t feel too needy just yet. It was a hot day, he’d been sweating a lot, not much of what he drank was making it all the way to his bladder.
A little bit after lunch, when they went to view the Statue of Liberty, that was when it hit him. It started as they waited for the ferry by the water, listening to it splash and slosh in the wind. The contents of Ethan’s bladder seemed to roll alongside it and he pressed his thighs together a little, rocking on his heels as he waited.
If James hadn’t been waiting for Ethan to show some signs of need, he may have missed these things. As it was though, he picked up on them right away. There were restrooms near where they were waiting. There’d be one on the ferry, and some at the Statue as well. If Ethan didn’t want to go through with this anymore, he had options available to him that could be gotten to easily. “Feeling okay still?” James asked.
“Y—Yeah,” Ethan said. “Just… The water, I guess. It’s loud.”
“I guess it is a bit noisy,” James agreed. “Is it…” He giggled a little. “Is it making you think of something else?”
Ethan blushed, “Yeah…”
James hoped Ethan didn’t mind a little teasing. But, he did know how to get it to stop if he wanted it to. “What does it remind you of?” he asked.
Ethan’s face got redder; “You know!”
“I don’t,” James said, laughing more. “Is there something you need to do?”
“I… Um… I am feeling a bit of an urge to relieve myself…”
“Ohhh,” James said, like they hadn’t been playing that all morning. “Well, the ferry will be here soon. There will be a toilet you can use there. Unless you think you can wait longer.”
“I can wait,” Ethan said. “It’s not an emergency. Water’s just getting on my nerves a bit.”
If the water had gotten on Ethan’s nerves a little bit, the boat drove him crazy. As it sailed, the water outside seemed louder than ever, and the boat just kept rocking back and forth, dipping and bouncing along. It wasn’t nearly as intense as what the turbulence on the airplane had done, but after a few minutes of being rocked around in the noisy, splashy water, the tingling in Ethan’s bladder transformed into a pulsating need. He was to the point where, if this were a normal day, he would have begun looking for somewhere to relieve himself.
But, this wasn’t a normal day. And, he knew he could wait longer. He started tapping his foot as he stared out the window. He’d feel better on dry land, he thought. But, it was taking a while to get there. He knew there was a toilet onboard the ferry, he could use it if he wanted to. He shifted in place as he imagined standing in front of it and just letting it flow.
No, he could wait.
He noticed James watching him very, very intently. Ethan felt his body warming up, but strangely he didn’t think it was out of embarrassment. The idea that he was exciting James so much with this was making him feel all fuzzy inside.
Ethan did feel better once the ferry finally dropped them off. His bladder wasn’t being bounced around nearly as much, and he could hold still a bit better. As they went around the small island and took photos of the Statue, Ethan couldn’t help but walk with stiff legs, though. There was a small cafe there that James wanted to stop at to get some snacks. Almost against his will, Ethan’s eyes sought out the signs designating the restrooms. As soon as he saw the door for the men’s room, his bladder seemed to just loosen itself automatically and his urge to go increased to the point that he was bouncing on his heels again.
He ignored the confused pang from his bladder as he sat down at a table rather than rushing for the toilet he needed. James came to sit next to him with a plate of fries and two large sodas, one of which he placed in front of Ethan.
“Oh, I’m not…” Ethan stammered, staring at the huge cup. “I’m not thirsty…”
“It’s hot today,” James said. “And we’ve still got a lot of walking to do.”
Ethan sighed and began to take slow, careful sips from the cup. He tried not to think about where it would go. Maybe he should walk faster from now on. Maybe that would make him sweat more of it out before it could fill his bladder up any further.
They talked for a while, finished off the fries, and Ethan managed to get most of the soda into himself as well. James stood, “I gotta use the restroom before we leave, okay?” he asked.
Ethan winced, tried not to think about how James was now peeing for the second time since they’d left that morning, while he hadn’t even gone once. “Go ahead, I’ll wait here,” he said, watching James hurry off. As he sat there and waited, Ethan kept bouncing his knees uncomfortably under the table, mindful of the people around him. The urge to pee was becoming less of an urge, and more of a need.
Meanwhile, James was relieved that the line for the toilets wasn’t too long. Ethan had been right about the sound of the water being a bit grating on a person’s bladder. As he stood at a urinal and released, James could not stop thinking about how Ethan was currently dying to be in his place. As James returned to the table, he found Ethan was partially hunched over, his legs bobbing up and down.
Probably a good idea to make sure he was still alright. “Ethan?” James asked. “You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine James,” Ethan assured, straightening up a bit painfully. The desire to writhe returned the instant he stilled his legs.
“You want to keep going?” James asked.
Ethan thought that he would much rather start going… But, he wasn’t near his limit yet. He knew he could wait at least a bit longer. Even if he didn’t make it back to the hotel like they’d planned, he could make it a little further for sure. “Yes. I’m good.”
“Okay,” James said with a smile, his worry evaporating to be replaced with delight that the show would be going on. “Let’s head back, then.”
Ethan had somehow managed to forget that he’d have to get on a boat again to get back to the city. When he remembered that teleportation did not yet exist, he cringed a little. As he and James waited for a ferry, he paced back and forth quite a bit. Both because he absolutely had to move around, and because he thought doing so would help him work up a bit of a sweat; He needed at least some of that massive soda to go somewhere other than into his bladder.
Riding the boat the second time was even harder than the first time had been. He managed to get a place to sit down, which was good. He dug his fingers into the seat, tensing his legs and crossing them together at the ankles as he stared straight ahead. Every time he got bounced, his bladder shrieked with a wild frenzy. James sat beside him and put an arm around him.
That was one thing Ethan had noticed about New York; No one seemed to care if he and James were a couple. They could hold one another’s hands, or even kiss right there on a public street, and no one gave it a moment’s notice. At home, it was different. If one of them so much as put their arm around the other’s shoulder at the movie theater, they would get dirty looks. When they went out to dinner, they pretended to be best friends, or distant relatives. But, here, it didn’t matter. No one cared. No one had a problem. They were seen just as any other couple. No one even seemed to notice they were both men.
So, when James put his arm around Ethan, Ethan was not scared to lean into the touch and allow his head to rest on James’s chest. It was comforting. Even as his bladder was jostled more and more by the rocking of the boat, he felt calmer with James holding him. He even allowed himself to relax a bit. Not too much, his lower half remained pretty tense as it restrained his flood. But inside his mind, there was far less turmoil. Far less fear about ‘I hope I can make it!’ or ‘Can people tell how bad I have to go?’ There was just peace.
But, then James did something unexpected; He reached his other hand over to give Ethan’s midsection a tiny pat. It wasn’t much, but it sent Ethan’s need into overdrive and his legs tightened together even more strongly. “Nnnnhhh…” he whimpered.
“Sorry…” James whispered. “Just… Curious,” he admitted. He lowered his voice to an even softer level, to the point Ethan wouldn’t have heard it if James’s mouth hadn’t been so close to his ear; “You have kind of a bump there…”
Ethan looked down at himself. In his abdomen, where there was usually flatness, there was now a small, raised bump; His bladder had begun to actually protrude a little bit. He was surprised yet again that he could need a toilet so badly that the round, firm shape of his bladder could be visible. But, with as much as he needed to go, he supposed it made sense.
Once they’d reached land, Ethan had a little trouble getting up and off the ferry. It was really, really hard to walk now. Not only were his legs stiff with the effort of holding everything in, he couldn’t move them very far apart. He was kind of walking pigeon-toed, and every nerve ending in his body was screaming that he needed to get himself in front of the nearest toilet right now.
But, he was pretty sure he still had room left.
“That was fun,” James said.
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed quietly as he stepped in place. From the way his feet were moving, a person would be forgiven for thinking he must have been standing on top of boiling hot coals.
“Still okay?” James asked, eyeing Ethan’s dancing. Now, James was pretty sure he wasn’t the only person in the surrounding area that could tell Ethan needed a restroom.
“Yeah, I can—ooh— I can keep waiting—!” Ethan managed. He couldn’t hold still for even a second. His bladder was absolutely bursting, and it throbbed and throbbed with each passing moment. But, he did not yet feel as urgent as he had in the airport yesterday. He knew the limit had yet to be reached. He wanted to give James the show of his lifetime, and honestly… This was giving him one Hell of an adrenaline rush. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. It was fun. It was kind of like the feeling he’d gotten the first time he went zip-lining. And, the knowledge that he could stop whenever he wanted made it less scary than it could have been. There were restrooms available, he was simply choosing not to use them until he could no longer wait. This was his decision; He still had control. He was safe.
“Alright,” James smiled. “It’s getting late, almost time for dinner. And, since I want you to actually be able to eat tonight, I think we should have dinner at the hotel. There’s a subway station not too far, we’ll ride it back, then it’s a short walk to the hotel. We’ll stop at our room to ‘get ready’, and then we’ll go eat. How’s that sound?”
Ethan was confident he could make it back to the hotel room from here. The subway moved fast, after all.
But, while the subway might have been able to move fast, Ethan’s feet sure couldn’t. He was limping along, like he’d suffered some terrible injury to his legs. When they got to the station, getting down the steps caused Ethan to lose a few spurts. His heart started pounding in his ears as he felt those small leaks trickle from his tip. He reminded himself they were heading to the hotel. He was close. He’d almost won.
James saw how much the stairs had shook Ethan up and asked him again if he was alright. “Some subway stations do have restrooms, but… I mean… Yeah, this is my first time coming here, but I’ve heard stories about what toilets are like at subway stations. Some of them have given me nightmares,” he added with a laugh.
“I can wait,” Ethan said. Then added in a hasty whisper; “It’s not that much longer, is it?”
“I think we’ll be at our stop in ten minutes,” James said. “Then, it’s just a couple blocks left to walk. Can you do it?”
“Yes,” Ethan said, trying to sound a lot more confident than he felt.
The subway did move quickly, and it wasn’t super bumpy or anything, which was good for Ethan. It was still really difficult not to start holding himself as he sat there and waited for James to tell him it was time to get off. He was starting to feel a lot like he had on the plane yesterday, his peehole trembling from the force it needed to exert to keep anything from spilling out.
They made it to their stop, and James helped Ethan stand. He spoke a little loudly, “Take my hand, dear! I’m so sorry you hurt your feet so badly today! I keep telling you you need new shoes!”
Ethan was confused for a moment, then realized that James was just trying to give an alternative explanation for anyone who noticed how strangely he walked. Ethan spoke loudly too, as he limped through the station with James. “You’re right, I really should! My feet feel like they’re gonna fall off! I have blisters that are about to burst!”
James knew that when Ethan said that, what he really meant was that something else was about to burst… “Let’s get you back to the hotel fast! I’m sure we can find something there that will make you feel a lot better!"
Going up the stairs to exit the station was harder than going down them had been. Again, a few spurts made it past his exhausted muscles, and he almost even lost his footing. The shock of that made a much longer stream gush into his boxers. He was glad James was holding his hand so tight.
Once outside, James lowered his voice to a whisper; “It’s a couple blocks now. But, there are a few stores on the way if you need them.”
Ethan nodded, but he was determined to make it. He was so close! He wasn’t about to give up with the finish line so near! The walk was excruciating though, and he jammed a hand into his pocket, straining to hold himself. He couldn’t get a good grip, but was able to kind of pin himself shut a bit. He just focused on keeping his hand clasped around James’s and on placing one foot in front of the other over and over again. He could do this. He could make it.
He exhaled as James pushed open the door to the hotel. Ethan had done it. He was home free, at last. James hurried him through the lobby and to the elevator. Before James could hit the button, Ethan already had five times.
James laughed, “In a rush for something?” he asked.
Ethan nodded frantically.
“Something you need?”
More nodding.
“Something pressing?”
Nod, nod, nod.
“What do you need?”
“To relieve myself,” Ethan said, nibbling his lip and going pink. “To… To pee.”
“Aw,” James said. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. Don’t worry, we’ll get you taken care of very soon.” He squeezed Ethan’s hand tighter. “Just… You’ve done so amazingly today.”
“Nnnnh…” Ethan whimpered in response as the elevator finally opened. He dashed in, and the instant the door shut, he was taking full advantage of finally having some privacy. He let go of James’s hand so he could grip himself as tight as he possibly could. His legs wound together and his entire body doubled over as he unleashed an anguished moan that sounded more desperate and needy than anything James had ever heard.
James started to get a little worried. Ethan had seemed much less on the verge of exploding before they’d gotten in here. He knew his partner had been trying to hold back on letting it show in front of strangers, but this display now was a bit troubling. He looked like he had yesterday. When James tried to hastily get him to a urinal at the airport. When he’d been on some serious borrowed time and was barely holding on by a thread. James was concerned that just the short elevator ride may prove to be Ethan’s undoing.
Ethan was babbling to himself now, caught up in his desperation; “Oh Godddd… Have to peeeeeee… Hurry, hurry, please hurry! I have to go! Can’t wait!” He had seemingly forgotten where he even was.
James put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed, attempting to soothe him. He’d be able to go very soon. It would all be okay. He’d done so well. He’d won the game. And James had never seen anything so hot before, so he should feel proud of himself for such an amazing performance, and…
James realized that he no longer felt the elevator moving. His hand stilled on Ethan’s shoulder as ice cold water seemed to flood into his veins. He glanced to the number above the doors, but the screen that was supposed to display it was blank.
Ethan’s superstition from the previous day had come true; He was desperate to pee, and the elevator he was in had gotten stuck. James struggled to come up with how to break the news. “Uh—Um, Ethan?”
Ethan’s eyes were pinched shut as he writhed his hips into his hands, “What?” he asked, bobbing up and down.
“Um… I think we’re stuck.”
Ethan’s eyes flew open, he looked first at the blank screen above the door, then to James. “What?” He cried, voice squeaking and cracking with a mixture of panic and agony. “Nah—No. It can’t be stuck!”
“I’m sorry,” James said. “I’ll hit the—“
“James!” Ethan interrupted. “Celery! Celery!” He kept repeating the safeword over and over, rapid-fire.
James winced, his heart aching. He’d promised Ethan that if he said that word, he’d make everything stop and put him out of his desperation. But, when he’d made that promise, he’d done so with the assumption that he would be able to retain control over their surroundings enough to actually make that happen.
He couldn’t control the elevator.
“I’m sorry,” James said once more. “I can’t fix this… Just, let me hit the emergency button, so whoever’s in charge knows to get this fixed somehow.” He pressed the button. Then did so a couple more times for good measure.
Ethan shuddered and shook, struggling with all his might to calm down. He couldn’t though. This was terrible. This was the worst thing that could have possibly happened. He knew he could have made it if the elevator had worked like it should have; But, now that he was stuck for who knew how long, he didn’t know if he could anymore. He was clenching and squeezing practically every muscle he had... But still, drips were seeping out. He felt his eyes start to well up, just more liquid he couldn’t manage to retain in his body. “James— I can’t—“
James felt terrible. He’d been the one who wanted to see Ethan desperate. He’d been the one to encourage this every step of the way. This was his fault. It was his fault Ethan needed the toilet so badly. It was his fault Ethan was so upset. If Ethan had an accident, that would be his fault, too.
He did the only thing he could think of, he gathered Ethan’s desperate, teary-eyed form into his arms and held him. “I’m sorry…” He said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he just kept repeating it like it was the only thing he knew how to say anymore. “I’m sorry… This is all my fault…”
“It’s not…” Ethan whimpered into James’s neck. “I agreed to everything, I was having fun up until this happened, and you didn’t—AH!—“ Ethan gasped as a huge rush of pee soaked the front of his pants. “You didn’t break the elevator. It’s not your fault.”
James held him some more, beginning to trace soothing patterns along his partner’s back with his hands. “I’m so sorry… Does it hurt?”
“A little,” Ethan choked out. The back-pain from one of his earlier desperate experiences had returned. “I just… James, I have to go so bad. I have to go worse than yesterday. I have to go worse than the day I—OH!” Another gush began to spill, so forceful and so strong that James heard it hissing. “Worse than the day I…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words ‘wet myself’, so terrified that it was about to happen again. “The day with the German Shepherd I told you about.”
James’s hands sped up on Ethan’s back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” What was taking them so long to fix the elevator? Didn’t they understand there wasn’t much time left!? “I love you,” James said. He just wanted Ethan to feel better.
“I love you, too,” Ethan said. “Nnnnnhh… Can’t hold it!”
They were so close that James could feel how tightly Ethan’s hands were balled up against his crotch. Could feel every shake and shudder of need that ricocheted through his body. If either of them still had control of the situation, James would have found it so hot… But, there was nothing hot about it now. Ethan was crying, in a panic, and there was nothing James could do to make it okay.
James pressed his lips against Ethan’s, murmuring more apologies and ‘I love you’s into his mouth. Ethan kissed back, his whole body was so tense that he did so more forcefully than usual. They stayed that way for a minute, Ethan writhing as James rubbed his back, their lips locked together.
Then, it happened.
Hssssssssssssssss.....
Ethan took a few seconds to process the sudden stimuli that began to overtake his senses. His ears were assailed by the loudest, most intense hiss he’d ever heard. His nose picked up a strange smell. He felt the warmth around his crotch reignite with new heat and grow more sodden against him. He was overcome with equal parts relief and horror when he realized what was happening. This was not just a spurt or a leak, this was him peeing. Panicked, he bore down on his muscles as hard as he could, pressing his hands against the soaked fabric over his crotch, tightening his thighs so much they felt sore from the effort; But, none of it worked. None of it managed to impede or slow the flood even a little. He was going. It was too late.
Ashamed, he pulled back from James’s kiss. “I… I’m… Doing it now…”
James’s hands sped up against Ethan’s back, rubbing him for all he was worth. “I know…” He said softly. He could feel the warmth of Ethan’s pee dampening his own crotch, and knew that once this was over, it would look like they’d both had accidents. He didn’t pull away, though. He wasn’t embarrassed when he felt his partner’s urine begin to trickle down both their legs. He wasn’t disgusted by the smell, or the wetness. Ethan needed him. “It’s okay… It’s okay… I’ve got you.” He kissed Ethan once more for a second, and drew back when his boyfriend whimpered into his mouth. “It’s okay, you can’t help—“
“It still hurts…” Ethan said.
“It’s okay,” James repeated. “It will feel very good soon, I promise. Just… Let it out, don’t think about other things, just focus on letting go.”
Ethan moaned, first in agony, then in euphoria. The pain inside him ebbed away to be replaced with the relief he’d been craving for so long. “Mmmm…” His bladder was still spasming and clenching, jolting hard out of his control. Urine was gushing all down his leg, spurting out the bottom of his pants to coat his shoe and the flooring at his feet. The torrent wasn’t dying down in the least. “There’s so much… I’m sorry…”
“I know, it was too much,” James said, kissing him once more. “Don’t be sorry, you can’t help this. I love you.”
In spite of how desperate he’d been, Ethan could hardly believe how much had been in there. It just kept coming and coming, and he couldn’t stop it even if someone offered him a million dollars. He sank more into James as his knees weakened and buckled under him. Such a relief. Such an amazing, wonderful relief. Despite the less than ideal circumstances of the release, it felt good.
It felt good to just let go. He was letting go not just physically, but mentally as well; he didn’t worry about restraining himself or about keeping control. He’d never allowed himself to do either of those things before. He’d always been wound up so tight, always holding back, never letting himself just feel or do things. His body was unclenching, which felt amazing, but the loosening of all the self-restraint and knots inside his brain felt downright sublime.
It felt good to have James here, kissing him and holding him, and just telling him it was okay that this had happened; That he couldn’t have helped it, that he didn’t need to fight to control the things that he couldn’t. It was okay. What was happening was okay.
He shut his eyes as he continued gushing, even allowing himself to moan once more. The moan was low and filled with pleasure, and James heard it right in his ear, along with the feeling of Ethan’s warm, relieved breath. He rubbed his back faster. “That’s it… That’s good… You’re okay. You’re all better now.”
When James felt Ethan begin to shudder, he knew he was almost finished. He hoped that, once the feelings of relief faded, Ethan did not end up being too embarrassed or upset about what had happened.
Ethan finally felt the last spurts leave his body. He was empty at last. But, he made no move to leave James’s embrace, only rested himself more solidly against him with a huge sigh. He felt like he was floating.
James continued to rub soothing patterns into his partner’s back for a few seconds. “All done?” he asked. “Better?”
“Better…” Ethan said.
James just kept holding him. “You okay?”
Ethan finally parted a bit from James. “You know what? I think I am. That’s certainly not something I wanted to have happen, but… It’s okay that it did. I am feeling… relieved. I’ll feel a lot more relieved after we get out of here and I can have a shower, but that… Wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Thanks to you.”
James giggled, smiling at Ethan; “I’m glad you’re alright. I’m really sorry it had to end like this, I didn’t mean for it to.”
“It’s okay, you couldn’t have controlled this any more than I could have controlled my… body. But, that’s alright. Sometimes, things can’t be controlled, even if we really want them to be.”
“That’s… I’m very glad to hear you, of all people, say that,” James said. “It’s real important for you to learn to let go sometimes, and I’m glad it sounds like you’re finally learning how to.”
“Thank you,” Ethan said. “Think the hotel will be mad about…” And now, the embarrassment finally showed itself as he gestured to the puddle left on the linoleum floor.
“They really shouldn’t be,” James said. “‘Cause, they’re the ones that are taking so long to get the elevator moving again, aren’t they?”
“But, it’s still mostly our fault, right? I only had to go that much because we were—“
“There are a million reasons someone could have been desperate to go on the way back to their room, just because we’d been playing around, that doesn’t make it any better that they take this long to fix an issue. The most they might do is have us help clean it up, and maybe have us pay for the supplies they use for that.”
Ethan hoped James was right. And that the elevator finally moved again soon. His clothes were cooling down fast, and now the wet, sticky material was starting to feel very uncomfortable.
But, the elevator didn't move. At least two more hours passed with nothing. By the time it started to move again— a sudden jolt that startled the both of them— Ethan was starting to need to go again, and James had begun to get very squirmy as well. James exhaled a breath of relief when the elevator at last began to function once more. Truth be told, he’d been considering letting go in his pants for the past half hour; They were already damp from when Ethan had lost it, after all, so it wouldn’t really matter. But, he didn’t want to make a bigger mess of the floor if he could help it.
Somebody was waiting for them on their floor when the doors finally dinged open. Ethan felt himself going red as she very quickly and obviously noticed how wet they both were. Ethan wanted to do many things in that moment; He wanted to chew her out for the repair taking so long that he’d had an accident. He wanted to run into his room and never, ever come out again. He wanted to shield himself and pretend he was wet with something other than urine and hope against hope that she’d believe him. But, he could do none of those things. He was so exhausted from the day, from all the holding, from losing control, that he couldn’t do anything.
James did, though. It was incredibly rare for Ethan’s happy go-lucky partner to show any signs of anger, but he did then. James didn’t show anger through yelling like most people, he just spoke in a very terse manner and adopted a serious tone he seldom ever used; “What took so long.” He didn’t place any inflections on his words, it wasn’t a question, it was a demand.
“We’re very sorry,” the woman said. “It took a long time to get someone in that could handle—“
“Well, it was too long,” James said. “My…” He looked at Ethan’s red, humiliated face. “I was in a huge rush to get up to my room, and you took so long to fix the elevator, I actually had an accident. I’m a grown man, I shouldn’t be placed into a situation where that can happen. My partner tried everything to comfort me, and I’m grateful for that, if a little embarrassed I managed to get him a bit wet, too.”
Some of Ethan’s embarrassment flooded from his body as quickly as his urine had. James was so selfless it was enough to make Ethan’s heart swell and flutter. “And we’re very, very sorry for the mess in the elevator.”
“We’re very sorry,” the woman repeated again. “I understand, the time it took was… unacceptable. You will not be charged for any cleaning, and I’m afraid the best we can offer you is a free meal in our restaurant.”
James took a deep breath to calm himself down. Not being charged for the incident did make up for it quite a bit. “Thank you,” he said. His bladder gave a few warning throbs, telling him to hurry up and get to their room. “Come on, Ethan. I’m sure you want a shower as badly as I do.”
Ethan followed James into their room and stammered out; “I… I… Thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”
“No problem,” James said. “I’ve had accidents a few times in public, it’s… Honestly not so embarrassing for me to admit to them. I guess I’m used to it. More used to it than you’d be anyway.”
Ethan unzipped and began to take off his sodden pants. “I have to go again,” he informed. “Must be that thing you told me about yesterday, about my muscles getting tired out.”
“Yeah, I’m seriously ready to burst, too,” James said. He smiled. “Was starting to think about just peeing myself in the elevator, since I was already wet and all.”
Ethan blushed and looked away, “Sorry…”
“Don’t be,” James said. “I don’t mind. You wanna shower together?”
Ethan, whom had been pulling his soaked boxers down, paused. They’d never done that before… “Um… Sure,” he said. “Sounds fun. But, first I really do need to—“
“Oh, we can do that together, too!” James said, getting excited.
Ethan looked into the small hotel bathroom. “Is there enough space for both of us to—“
“Yeah, I’m sure there is,” James said, starting to take off his own damp clothing.
It felt strange to Ethan at first, to stand naked beside James as they both peed. But, it felt weird in a good way. Intimate. Especially when James started moaning. Ethan glanced down towards James’s midsection for a second. Of course, Ethan always enjoyed the sight of James’s cock, but there was something exciting about seeing it spray like that.
“Heh, wow, you really were getting desperate in there, weren’t you?” Ethan asked. “That’s a lot.”
“And it sounds like you’re getting pretty interested in this,” James said.
“Well… Well, I—“
“I’m glad,” James interrupted.
Ethan finished first. Even if he’d felt desperate, that was only because his sore muscles were unwilling to hold much. James gushed for about ten more seconds. “Ahhhhh, all done!” He said. “Now, I believe we’d agreed to shower together, didn’t we?”
Ethan had been dying for a shower from the instant his sodden, clammy clothing had begun to cling to his body, so he already knew it was going to feel great. Even so, James found ways to make the shower even more enjoyable.
Steam fogged the bathroom, erasing the rest of the world. Water hissed against their bodies, gushing almost as powerfully as Ethan’s accident had. They wrapped their arms around one another’s backs, lips meeting before James pinned one of Ethan’s hands against the wall. James pulled back for a second, “May I touch you?”
“Yes,” Ethan breathed.
James’s lips returned to Ethan’s, one of his own hands reached low between them, gently grasping Ethan’s cock; Water trickled down his fingers, making the touch even softer against Ethan’s sensitive flesh.
Ethan closed his eyes and moaned into James’s mouth. Something about all the prolonged holding, about the loss of control, had rendered Ethan’s body totally raw and more susceptible to stimulation than ever. His hips arched off the wall as his cock sprang to life in James’s hand.
James grinned, his smile doing nothing to stem the heat and urgency pulsating in Ethan’s groin. He wanted James to give him more. He needed James to give him more. At last, James’s hand began to move, cupping Ethan’s balls and massaging with his palm, before returning to pump his dick.
Ethan dipped his head backward against the wall, moaning for all he was worth as James stroked down his length, applying gentle touches to the head of his dick, a fingertip cascading slowly back down the ridge along the underside of his member. “Ohhhhh….” Ethan cried.
“You like that?” James asked.
“Mmmmm…”
Ethan whimpered as James stopped stroking him, he needed him to keep going, he needed more. So much more. But, James was kneeling down, his hands gripping onto Ethan’s hips, kissing a path down Ethan’s stomach, and the patch of hair resting above his cock that was dotted with wayward drops of water from the shower.
Still holding Ethan’s hips, James tilted his head to give a kiss to the head of his dick. He slipped his tongue out gently to nudge it against his tip. Ethan groaned, the pleasure causing him to shudder. James dragged his lips down the length of Ethan’s cock, flitting his tongue against him quickly.
“James…” Ethan gasped.
Ethan clenched his hands into fists, shivering and shuddering as the endorphins flooded into his veins. He gave a loud, throaty moan, James’s tongue again brushing so, so gently against his tip— He was just so sensitive there! “Ah—“ Ethan gasped out, arching his back and clutching onto James’s shoulders. He writhed helplessly against the wall, as much as he could without moving away from James’s incredible tongue.
James took Ethan’s member into his mouth, closed his lips around the head, looking up to see Ethan’s face overcome with needful lust and ecstasy. James took him in deeper. Then, deeper still. Ethan melted at the feeling of James tightly sucking on him, he threw his head backward with a cry because, God, it just felt so good.
He didn’t last long, his whole body had been so sensitive to start with, and James was so incredibly skilled, that Ethan just couldn’t last very long. “Ah—James! I’m about to—“ But, James only went faster, the pleasure building and building until it became overwhelming. Ethan choked on his own breath and bucked his hips as he came hard. The ecstasy pulsed through him and made his ears ring.
“I… Sorry, sorry,” Ethan said. “I didn’t mean to—“
It was a lot, James swallowed what he could, the rest dribbling down his chin.
Ethan’s eyes widened, “You… Really?”
“I’ve always wanted to try that,” James blurted out. “Was that okay to do?”
“It was!” Ethan assured quickly, looking almost flattered. “I just… I thought you’d find it gross.”
Overcome by a surge of confidence, James stood back up, “Not at all. You taste amazing,” he informed.
Ethan reddened, “Heh… Thanks… You’re the best.”
“No way, you are,” James corrected. “You did so much for me today, and even when it went wrong, you just kept rolling with the punches. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you’re so comfortable and open with me!”
“It makes me happy too, James,” Ethan said while stroking James’s back. “Even if it didn’t end completely how I’d wanted it to, I’m glad I gave all this a try. Just, next time we play one of these bladder-holding games, we should probably do it at home so nothing can go wrong, alright?”
James kind of just gaped at Ethan for a second. He’d been positive after how badly Ethan’s holding challenge had ended, that he would never sign himself up for another one. “You… Actually want there to be a ‘next time’?”
“Yes, as I told you, I had been having a lot of fun until things got out of control,” Ethan said. “But, that won’t be a problem at home, so I won’t be averse to doing it again. Heh, especially if you’re going to reward like that again afterwards.”
“Oh, I will! And I’m glad you had fun, too!”
“I did, but there was one thing I didn’t like at all…”
“What?” James asked, worry rising up in his chest.
“You made me come just now, but you haven’t yet.”
“Ohh!” James said jovially. “Well, did you want to return the favor?”
“Definitely,” Ethan said. “I need you in bed as soon as possible.”
“Heheh, yes sir!” |
The rest of the trip was fun. They’d gotten a free meal at the hotel as promised, which was nice. Ethan found himself needing a pee break pretty often, though. He’d definitely worn himself out holding past his limit like that. Each time he had to go, it hit him a bit suddenly and he didn’t have much time to let it out before it became an emergency. But, there were restrooms he could use everywhere, and he never ended up having to wait too long.
James, on the other hand, ended up getting pretty desperate a few times. He was just having so much fun that he kept failing to notice he needed to go until it was practically coming out of him. He’d have to rush for the nearest restroom and just hope there wasn’t a line.
Once, there was a line, though. A pretty long one, too. Ethan and James had just finished seeing a play and when James stood from his seat he realized that he was about to burst. He couldn’t believe he’d sat there through the whole show without noticing he had to go that badly! Ethan told James he needed to use the restroom before they left and James nodded frantically, saying he needed to go really, really bad!
Ethan chuckled at that. “You need to work on listening to your body more,” he said. Although, maybe he shouldn’t scold James; He was the one that had an accident in an elevator, after all…
Ethan followed an eager James out of the theater and towards the men’s room. James came to a dead stop when he saw how long the line was. He wished he could just push past everyone and get to the toilet he needed so much!
Ethan was dismayed by the line a bit as well. His sore bladder didn’t like being made to wait. He was sure he could make it through the line, just that it wouldn’t be very comfortable. He wasn’t nearly as sure that James could, however.
James was perhaps the least shy person Ethan had ever met, but still Ethan was always surprised by how open James could be about certain things most people would want to keep private. James didn’t seem to care if people could tell from ten miles away that his bladder was close to breaking itself wide open. He did nothing to conceal the urgency of his need. He was outright holding himself in line where anyone could see him.
This was not the first time Ethan had seen James perform a pee-dance in a public location. Ethan no longer felt too embarrassed to be seen with James when he behaved this way. He understood James’s bladder was small and weak, that trying to contain it without the aid of his hands got to be just impossible fast. And… Well, it was cute. Ethan tried very hard not to think of it that way, but it just was. If Ethan tried to convince himself that James’s crossed legs, pink face and trembling, clutching hands didn’t result in an absolutely lovable image, it would be like trying to convince himself that the sky was green.
Beyond the precious nature of James’s writhing making Ethan’s chest feel warm, all of James’s pained, pleading whimpering sounds also had an affect. They made Ethan’s heart ache with the all-consuming desire to help him. That look on James’s face, his teary-eyes and scrunched up lips; It did more than just tug on Ethan’s heartstrings, it yanked. He wanted to outright carry James to the toilet, lower his zip for him and aim his cock as he gushed, whispering into his ear;
“Oh, you poor thing! You had to go so badly! Just let it out, I’ve got you. It’s all okay now.”
But, the line was still in the way. They’d moved up a little already, but not enough. Ethan noticed people were starting to stare at James; It wasn’t often that someone his age danced around like that. There were whispers from people outside the line, and odd looks from the people both ahead of and behind them. That made a different sort of heat brew itself in Ethan’s chest. James couldn’t help it! He just had to go! It wasn’t a big deal! He wanted to yell at everyone to stop looking, James did not deserve their judgement for something he couldn’t help.
Ethan tried his best to shield James, and his breath hitched when he noticed James double over on himself. Ethan could remember other times when he’d been stuck in long lines for restrooms when he’d needed to go a lot worse than he did now. The sound of other people’s streams hitting the urinals and toilets always drove him mad, his urethra would sting and burn as others got the relief Ethan so badly wanted for himself. Hell, sometimes even if he couldn’t hear the trickling gushes from the men who’d been blessed enough to reach the toilets before him, being in line would still get to him. Just the mere knowledge that someone else was occupying the space he’d give anything to be in would cause his quivering bladder to issue thin jets of pee down his legs.
Once they actually got into the restroom, Ethan knew there’d still be a little more waiting before something opened up. He could scarcely imagine what all the noises and visuals would end up doing to James in his state. It already looked like he was barely hanging on by the skin of his teeth. Having to listen to other people pee was very likely to be his undoing.
James needed his help.
Ethan tapped the guy in front of them, “Uh, excuse me,” he said. “Do you mind if my friend and I cut ahead? Um… He is… Having an allergic reaction and really has to go.” Ethan had no idea if that explanation made any sense, he didn’t know if having an allergic reaction could make you have to pee really badly or not. He’d never heard of that happening, it was just the first thing he’d thought of that sounded like an ‘understandable’ reason an adult wouldn’t be able to hold it through a long line.
The guy looked confused, so Ethan figured that probably wasn’t a real thing. “Oh, no… I mean it’s… Overactive Bladder, yeah. That’s what he has. It’s a medical problem, he can’t help it. And yeah, something he drank really exacerbated it… He… Uh… He accidentally got some regular coffee instead of decaf, and it just went all right through him, so could we go ahead of you?” Ethan realized he was rambling. He also realized that going into so much detail was probably just more embarrassing for James than simply saying the truth “He waited too long, it’s an emergency”, would have been. But, it was too late to go back now.
The guy was still giving him an odd look, but shrugged. “Okay, go ahead.”
Ethan tugged his desperate partner further, eliciting a surprised yelp. James had not enjoyed that sudden jolt one little bit. He’d been so lost in his desperation that he hadn’t realized Ethan was just trying to get him to the front of the line quicker. All he knew was that Ethan had grabbed him out of nowhere and forced him forward without warning. James felt a hot rush of pee spurt into his boxers at the momentum, and was about to ask Ethan what all that was for when Ethan started talking to the next person in line. “He’s got Overactive Bladder, I’m really sorry about this. Can we go ahead of you?”
James understood now. Ethan wasn’t trying to be cruel, wasn’t trying to jostle his poor bladder and make him leak, he was trying to help. That person let them skip, as did the next several. Once they’d gotten far enough ahead that they were actually inside the restroom, James gave himself the tightest squeeze he could manage. He clutched so tightly to his leaking cock that it actually hurt, and it still wasn’t enough to make the dribbles stop. He could feel the damp fabric of his pants between his curled fingers. He could feel the urgent, painful pounding in his poor bladder. He could feel his exhausted muscles pleading for a break. But, that wasn’t as bad as what he could see and hear; Every urinal was taken, every stall was closed, and there was an absolute cacophony of liquid; Sinks spraying, streams gushing against porcelain, trickling into water, toilets flushing, and immediately being taken by the eager person at the front of the line.
James whimpered, digging his palms into his crotch. He wished he could try to share a urinal with someone, just go up and beg them to move over a little so he could go too! James would be willing to do that for a desperate person, even if he’d never met them before. But, the odds of anyone else being both generous and, more importantly, comfortable enough to allow that were slim.
He forced himself not to look at the crowded urinals, and the backs of the men that were blissfully releasing their floods. Ethan was able to help him skip a few more spaces in line, but then someone refused. “That’s ridiculous, I’ve been waiting here for half an hour.”
James saw the irritation flash across Ethan’s face. “I understand, but he has a medical issue, it’s not—“
“I don’t care what he has,” the man interrupted. “He can wait his turn like everyone else.”
Ethan fought down his base-instinct to argue the point further. There were only five people ahead of them now, hopefully James could handle that. But, at all the watery noises and visible toilets, Ethan’s bladder had begun to throb more desperately as well. He hadn’t been bursting before like James had been, and could only imagine how difficult this was for him. He turned to James, “It’s just a few more people,” he said. “You’ll be alright.”
James just whimpered, skipping in place, his hands so tight on his dick that his knuckles were whitening.
The line was moving, at least. Only four more people now.
Ethan tapped his foot anxiously. His own bladder was starting to get really fed up with waiting, and James’s dancing was sending tremors of anxiety through his heart.
Three more people.
James felt a long, warm trickle begin to slide down his leg. This was horrifying enough, but it was immediately followed up by two more that were even longer. Then another. And another. Then, it wasn’t just a trickle anymore. He was peeing.
Two more people.
Ethan heard James begin whimpering even louder, he turned and saw the dark line trailing down the leg of his pants. Panicked, Ethan tapped the guy in front of them again, “Sir, I’m sorry. But, please could you let us—“
“No,” the man interrupted. “God, stop bothering me.”
Ethan shrank back. The man was huge, and getting angry. Ethan didn’t want to provoke him further, and doing so obviously wasn’t going to get James to a urinal any faster. Instead, Ethan just gripped James’s arm and held onto him. In his mind, he was pleading for time to speed up. Please, please, don’t let James have an accident here. He’s so close.
One more person.
“I can’t hold it,” James told Ethan. “I can’t stop going.”
Ethan tightened his grip on James’s arm. He was already imagining James wetting himself right there in the restroom. Ethan was imagining himself somehow gaining the strength of ten men and decking the guy who had refused to let them cut and had caused it to happen. More realistically, Ethan pictured himself letting go as soon as James had finished, soaking his pants for the second time that week just to make James feel better. God… I’m seriously considering wetting my pants on purpose? And in public? The idea made him blush, but making James feel better was more important than maintaining his image in front of a bunch of people he’d never see again. Keeping James happy was more important than anything else in the world.
Ethan inhaled and began willing his muscles to cede and relax. It wasn’t easy to do. After spending his whole life only telling himself to pee when his clothes weren’t in the way of the stream, flipping the script all of the sudden made it hard to break the programming. Finally, he felt it, a little dribble beginning to snake its way down his length and pool into his boxers. He couldn’t believe he was doing this…
The guy who hadn’t let them cut stepped out of line and got to a urinal. Finally… “You’re next, James,” Ethan said. “Just a few more seconds.” He tried to clamp off his flow now, it looked like James had a much better chance of making it after all. But, now that Ethan had let go, he couldn’t stop. Those muscles weren’t used to tightening back up unless his bladder had drained all the way. To his horror, he found that he couldn’t make himself stop peeing.
James was already trying to unbutton himself. His hands were trembling so bad he could hardly manage it, but finally he did. Letting go of his dick to manage his button had hurt, had made him pee even more into his pants. His zipper came down next, and James winced at how slick and wet the area surrounding it was.
Someone stepped away from one of the urinals, and James was rushing for it before they’d made it two steps. James felt himself peeing more and more each time one of his feet made contact with the floor, but that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was getting as much of his bladder’s contents into an appropriate receptacle as he could. He got his cock out as soon as he was sure he was close enough to the urinal that he wouldn’t expose himself to anyone. The spray of liquid that assailed the porcelain in the millisecond that immediately followed was nearly as loud as the sinks, and strong enough to peel paint. Not caring in the least that the room was crowded, James released a moan that echoed off the walls. “Ahhhhhhhhh….”
A second later, Ethan was at the urinal beside him, peeing a thick stream and breathing heavily. The hand he wasn’t using to aim his dick was patting down the cloth of his pants between his thighs, trying to gauge how wet he’d managed to get them. Trying to pee himself to cheer James up, before he knew for sure if James would actually have an accident or not, had maybe not been the best idea. There was an alarming amount of dampness between his legs, and the fact that some of it had been on purpose— That he’d done that on purpose in public— made him feel even more sheepish. He relaxed quite a bit now that his pee was flowing into the right place, but the wet fabric clinging to his legs tampered his relief a bit.
They finished up at about the same time, Ethan was surprised James had successfully held that much, but was certain he wasn’t very dry. He’d worn dark clothes at least, so whatever had made it to his pants wasn’t visible.
Once they’d left the building, Ethan asked James if he was alright. James admitted that he’d been peeing pretty steadily from the second they were in the restroom, and he wanted to get back and change. Ethan noticed that one of James’s shoes was stained and hoped the floor where he’d been standing was okay. “Yeah,” Ethan agreed. “I want to change, too.”
“You didn’t quite make it either?” James asked. “It didn’t look like you were that desperate, are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself the other day, did y—“
“No, I…” Ethan hesitated. “When it looked like you weren’t going to make it, I kind of tried to—“
“You were going to have an accident so I’d feel less alone?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Then, after it turned out you did make it, I couldn’t make myself stop.” He smiled nervously.
“Aw, that’s really cute,” James said. “Yeah, it’s really, really hard to stop midstream like that. I try to do it sometimes for fun, though. Trying to hold it for a second after I’ve already told myself to start peeing makes me feel so desperate! And, sometimes I can start and stop a whole bunch of times, it’s really challenging, but it’s super fun, too—“
“James…”
“Right, right. Maybe I shouldn’t talk about that outside. But, I just— You were really willing to do that for me? To embarrass yourself in public just to make me feel better?”
“Of course I would,” Ethan said. “I’d do anything for you. I love you.” |
When it was time to go home, Ethan was nervous. He didn’t like to believe in superstitions, he knew they were illogical, but he had such a bad track record with airplanes that he felt that something was sure to go wrong. His bladder was still sore from his accident during the trip, so he imagined himself once more enduring an entire flight while having to restrain a bursting bladder.
As they waited for their flight, Ethan kept watch of the time. He would not allow himself to get distracted like he had the last time. He would make extra sure that he had one more pee before it was time to board. About ten minutes before they were due to board, Ethan stood from his seat and headed to where he knew the nearest restroom was located. He knew, this way, he would be much more unlikely to get desperate on the flight. He smiled to himself, he was thinking ahead, taking necessary preventative measures, and nothing could go wr—
The men’s room was closed for cleaning.
Ethan felt his left eyelid twitch spasmodically.
Okay.
Okay then.
He knocked on the door, a cleaning lady came to it, “Sorry, sir,” she said briskly. “It’s gonna be a while.”
Ethan sighed. Once she’d shut the door again he turned to the door for the women’s room. His need wasn’t an emergency by any stretch of the imagination, but he really wanted to get it out before he set foot onto one of those stupid, flying tin cans again. Still, he didn’t want to freak anyone out. He knocked on the door, “Uh~m…” He called awkwardly. “Anybody in there?”
There was no answer, so maybe it was empty? Or, had his obviously male voice simply not invited any responses? He knew he was overthinking it, it wasn’t a big deal, but he kept imagining himself getting decked by the TSA the instant he went in there, and everyone in the surrounding area watching. Then, being hauled off somewhere to explain that he wasn't a pervert and had just needed to use the restroom, causing him and James to miss the flight. He imagined pleading with an interrogator for a toilet break before ultimately wetting himself. That might be an unlikely sequence of events, but it was the sort of thing that happened to Ethan whenever he got within thirty yards of a plane.
He crossed the women’s room from his list of possibilities.
There was another of those pet relief area things here…
No. Not again. Never again.
Surely there was another men’s room he could get to before he had to board. He walked through the airport a little nervously, seeing no signs designating another restroom was close by. He stopped someone to ask, but they only pointed him in the direction of the one he’d just been at and had been unable to use.
Ethan checked his watch after a few more minutes and realized he had to head back. James smiled at him as he sat back down to wait. “No problems this time, right?”
Ethan tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace; “The men’s room is being cleaned at the moment,” he stated.
“Oh…” James said. “Maybe this flight won’t be so bumpy, you’ll have more chances to go.”
“I’m going the minute I’m allowed,” Ethan said. “I’m not going through that again.”
Soon, they were on the flight. Soon, the seatbelt lights turned off. Soon, Ethan stood and quickly walked to the toilet. He was moving perhaps a little too fast. With as narrow as the aisle was, it wasn’t like anyone could cut in front of him unless they literally shoved him over to do it. Ethan was on a plane though, so he wouldn’t even be too shocked if someone actually did that. Nervously, he grasped the handle and turned it, fully expecting it to malfunction as it had during one of his past miserable flights.
It opened. He could step right inside and do what he needed to do. He exhaled. Thank goodness. As he entered, he felt a little silly for getting all worked up. Yes, he’d had bad luck on flights before, but luck was just an imaginary concept, it wasn’t real, everything was up to chance. Superstitions were illogical, yet there he was acting like planes were cursed. He gripped his zip and tugged.
But, it didn’t move.
Oh, for the love of—
He yanked harder, but his zipper just wouldn’t budge! Ethan groaned, shimmying his hips. Now that he was in front of a toilet, his bladder was very eager to get the show on the road. It didn’t understand what the hold up was. Ethan stopped fighting with his zipper, his hands moving up to the waistband of his pants instead. He’d just tug them down with the zip still up. He took the button out so it would hopefully be a little easier to do that.
But, he’d worn his skinny jeans. This was not going to be easy. As he tried to yank them down they got a little stuck on his hips, in such a way that they compressed the living daylights out of his poor bladder. His knees knocked together and his thighs squeezed against one another as a thin dribble of urine soaked into his clothing. “Ah…No. Come on!” He whined to himself, continuing to fight with his tight pants.
Several seconds of tugging later, several more trickles of urine had escaped his tip, but his pants were down enough that he could go. He was already so close to the toilet that he just needed to aim his member up slightly and was finally free to let it flow. Phew! That had started to cut a little close there… He sighed through his nose as his bladder deflated and contracted back to its proper size. “Mmmm…” He smiled a little, enjoying the amazing gush of relief, not just from emptying his bladder, but from defeating his arch-nemesis; Aircrafts. He wasn’t gonna be humiliated this time! Take that, planes!
His stream tapered off and he gave himself a few shakes. So much better! Now, he didn’t have to get through the rest of the flight feeling like he was gonna explode. Nothing could go wrong now! He was on top of the world!
He reached to yank his pants back up. Over the next several seconds, he discovered that pulling them back up was going to be a lot more difficult than taking them down had been. As he fought with them, a sudden pulse of turbulence overtook the plane and he lost his footing a bit. He gave a yelp of surprise, then blushed, hoping no one had heard it.
Maybe now that he didn’t have to go, he’d have better luck getting the zipper to cooperate. His hands weren’t shaking quite so badly anymore, after all. He tried once more to lower his zip, but that thing was seriously jammed up. It felt like trying to unstick a piece of duct tape from a metal rod. And, the angle he was working with wasn’t helping. He couldn’t get a good view. It was relatively easy to take his pants off the rest of the way.
He closed the lid of the toilet and sat down as he tried to figure out how to fix the zipper. When he realized that the issue was that a bunch of the surrounding fabric had gotten caught in the teeth, he set about trying to free the snags… And was overcome with a bit of panic when he realized that the fabric was really in there. He needed something narrower than his fingers to push in there, like a pen tip or the file on a pair of nail clippers… Neither of which he had with him. And he was pretty sure airports considered that second thing a ‘weapon’. So, one more thing to hate planes for.
Now what? He couldn’t go back to his seat in just his boxers! He felt his heart pounding as he imagined the reactions he’d get. But, he couldn’t get his pants back on unless he could get that stupid zipper to come apart! He fought to come up with a solution through his panic.
James. Yes. James might have an idea.
Ethan turned his pants over and retrieved his phone from the back pocket. He intended to send James a text, but couldn’t get through.
Shit!
Okay. New plan. Ethan was just going to live in here forever.
Or, well, not forever. Just until they landed. Then, he’d stay in here and wait for James to get him some pants from the airport gift shop. Yeah. That was a better idea. That would work.
There was another patch of turbulence and Ethan found himself bracing his hands against the walls of the small room. He was glad he’d at least been able to pee, because if he hadn’t that jolt would have caused quite a flood. He hoped he didn’t get jostled like that again in here. And he hoped no one knocked on the door and told him to go back to his seat.
He settled in for a long wait.
***
James was really concerned. What was taking Ethan so long? He’d been in there the whole flight! Had he not made it in time? James hadn’t thought he looked too ready to pop before he’d gotten up… What if it was worse than that? Like, he hit his head or something? Not only was James scared something bad had happened, he was also starting to really need to trade places with Ethan. His bladder had been throbbing since they’d taken off, but he’d decided to still let Ethan go first since he’d been waiting longer and was so nervous about flying. Now though, James was regretting this. If he’d known his partner was gonna take so long, he would have begged to go first.
James crossed his legs, scissoring them against one another before giving his crotch a nice, long squeeze. Some of the edge was taken off of his need then, but his worry only grew. He stood up and made his way down the aisle. He knocked on the door to the toilet. “Ethan?” He called. “Are you still in there?” It was a dumb question. Where else would he be?
“Yes,” Ethan answered shortly.
James exhaled. He’d been scared Ethan had knocked himself out in there somehow. “Okay… Um, how much longer are you going to be? I really gotta go. Like, bad.”
Ethan felt a pang go through his chest. He hadn’t thought that part of his plan through; The fact others would need to use the toilet during the flight. He couldn’t exactly take up permanent residence in there when other people had to go. Especially not if James was the one who had to go. His heart ached, James was uncomfortable and it was his fault! He lowered his voice; “My… My zipper’s stuck.”
“Oh,” James said. Poor Ethan! He’d still been holding it all this time? “I know it will be cramped, but if you let me in I’ll try to help. Can you keep it in a few more minutes?”
“No—“ Ethan cut himself off. “I mean— I already went. I just pulled my pants down a bit.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Ethan lowered his voice even further, to the point that even if James had ears the size of an elephant’s he wouldn’t have been able to hear him.
“What?”
“I… Can’t get my pants back on, now.”
“Pfft…” James snickered. He didn’t mean to, but the image of Ethan hiding out in there in just his boxers, all red-faced and nervous, was just so cute. “Heheh!” James’s laughter was cut to an abrupt stop as it sent a sudden shock through his bladder, making the walls crumble in on themselves like a poorly maintained building. A long hissing spurt of pee shot out of his tip. He decided he probably deserved that a little. “Ooh,” he winced. “Sorry!”
“It’s okay,” Ethan said.
James whispered back, “If you let me in, I can give you my pants.”
Ethan felt his chest swelling. The sheer selflessness of the offer was enough to make his heart fizz with love for James. “I don’t know if that would work. There’s no space in here. I can hardly move around when I’m in here by myself.”
James nodded, then remembered Ethan couldn’t see him. “Yeah… I guess that’s true. I can take ‘em off right here, though!”
“James, I think if you do a strip tease out there, we’re both going to be in trouble.”
“Probably…” James began pacing in place as he tried to come up with something else. It was just so hard to think, though. So many of his ideas circled back to Ethan letting him in there, and for all of those plans the first step was ‘Ethan lets me in, and I pee!’ He realized that he was thinking far less about saving Ethan from embarrassment than he was about releasing his bladder. He knew which should have been the priority, but he couldn’t help it! He had to go real bad!
Being stuck out in the aisle, knowing there was a toilet right behind that door, it made him just start bouncing up and down right on the spot. He could feel liquid beading right up against his trembling pee-hole, and knew it wasn’t going to stay there very much longer. He whimpered to himself as he began to hold his member and buck his hips into the pressure. He didn’t care people were staring, he didn’t care if they knew he was about to have an accident. That didn’t matter to him, what mattered was keeping his need in check. “Nnnnh…”
“James…” Ethan spoke quietly. “You… Need to go really badly, don’t you?”
James nodded so fast his hair whipped back and forth. Then, he remembered once more that Ethan couldn’t see him. “Yes!”
“…Okay,” Ethan said finally. “I’ll… Come out. Maybe… Maybe if I act like it’s normal everyone will think they’re just weird looking shorts?”
“Mmm—Maybe,” James choked out, trails of sweat rolling down his face.
He heard the lock disengage, and Ethan stepped out. James looked at him for a moment as he kept bouncing. His boxers were plain black, so maybe they would look like shorts unless someone stared at him for too long. His pants were being carried under his arm, and he quickly rushed past James to return to his seat, his face bright red and his eyes downcast. James thought for a moment that Ethan ought to show leg more often. He had pretty nice legs, and James had always found the coarse hairs covering them fun to stroke.
James gripped the handle for the restroom and was about to head in, when he was stopped by a flight attendant, “We’re about to land,” she said, eyeing him. “I know you’re having a bit of an emergency, but we need you to sit down for now.”
James winced. This must have been how Ethan had felt on the flight last week… He dug his hands more tightly against his crotch, but he didn’t argue. He just went back to his seat and hoped landing would happen fast. Ethan knew what had happened and the realization was like a punch to the gut. This was his fault, if he hadn’t been hiding out in the restroom the whole flight, James could have gone. If he’d opened the door just a few minutes earlier, James could have gone. Now, his poor partner was gonna have to contain himself until they found a restroom in the airport.
His guilt grew in tandem with James’s desperation over the next several minutes. James was practically squirming out of his own skin, and trying so hard to press himself into his seat away from his seatbelt that it made Ethan’s heart hurt. “I’m sorry,” Ethan said. “I should have just— I’m sorry…”
James crossed his legs, then immediately recrossed them the other way. He did this over and over again, apparently no position brought him the slightest ounce of relief. “Nnnh, it’s okay!” James squeaked out. “I can hold it!”
Ethan hoped that was true.
As the plane braced for landing, James was coming apart at the seams. Ethan swore it looked like his eyes were turning yellow. They were big and wide on his face, full of painful need and agony. Ethan pictured himself picking James up the instant they were on the ground and running him to a toilet at breakneck speed, stroking his hair and telling him it was all gonna be okay, that he’d make it in time because Ethan was there to help.
Once on the ground, that wasn’t exactly what happened. Ethan grabbed both their bags, and after that there wasn’t any room left in his arms to carry James. Not that he thought that was such a good idea anymore, poor James was leaking like mad from the moment he stood and Ethan felt that lifting him up would definitely make him lose it completely.
“Okay, come on,” Ethan said, trying to sound calm and in control.
James hobbled after him, hands tucked between his straining, wet thighs.
“Okay… Okay….” Ethan mumbled to himself once they were in the airport. “Nearest toilet is…” He spun around on his heels, eyes coming to rest on a sign pointing towards the location set aside for men to empty their bulging bladders after long flights. “This way!” He hoped it wasn’t a long walk. He hoped it wasn’t closed for cleaning. He hoped there wasn’t a line. He could hear liquid hissing into James’s clothes as they moved as quickly as the poor thing’s desperate, quivering legs would allow.
As they approached, Ethan saw that one of his fears had come true; The men’s room here was being cleaned as well. James seemed poised to bolt right into the women’s instead, when Ethan saw the door between them. The disabled restroom, it wasn’t closed, and James could enter it without fear of being in any trouble. Ethan gestured to that one instead, and James flung open the door and dashed inside.
Ethan followed him in. It was single use, but James constantly forgot to lock the door when he peed, especially if it was an emergency like it was now. Ethan pressed the button for the lock, and watched as James unzipped, yanked down his pants and flung himself onto the toilet, a huge rushing burst of liquid spraying against the bowl beneath him before he’d even sat down all the way.
James’s tongue had lolled out of his mouth, a huge smile on his face as his eyes drifted closed. His entire body eased into a state of total relaxation as his stream kept hissing out. A moan erupted from his lips, quickly turning to heavy, utterly relaxed breathing, like the way he breathed when he was deeply asleep. “Ahhh… That feels gooood!”
“You like to go sitting down?” Ethan asked. It hadn’t been what he expected; It took longer to sit down, and he’d figured James would want to start peeing as soon as possible. He hoped James didn’t mind him talking to him while he went.
“Sometimes,” James said, still gushing away, completely unbothered by Ethan staring at him and speaking to him. “‘Cause, sometimes when I have to go super bad, my legs just go all wibbly-wobbly when I pee, and it’s hard to keep standing up. My legs are really tingly right now, they feel like jelly.” He laughed, causing his stream to somehow intensify in its force. It had already sounded like an erupting geyser, and now it had managed to get even louder. “Heheh, once I actually fell over ‘cause of that! That was a big mess!”
“I guess I sometimes get a little weak in the knees too,” Ethan admitted. “Can’t say I’ve ever fallen over while urinating, though…” He looked away for a second. “You… Uh… You look really cute right now, James…”
“Heh…” When James’s faucet came to an abrupt stop, he stood and pulled his pants back up. “That’s better, thank you Ethan…”
“But, it’s my fault you got so—“
“Maybe a little,” James admitted. “But, I like being desperate, remember?”
“You always find the silver linings, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh!” James said with a smile.
Ethan looked down at himself. He’d been so focused on getting James to where he needed to be that he hadn’t realized he’d just run through an airport in his underwear… “Wish there was a silver lining for this…” He said.
“Sure there is!” James said. “Because, you have some of the hottest legs I’ve ever seen, and watching you run on them just now makes me want to do all sorts of things when we get home!”
“Eheh, yeah. That will make up for the embarrassment quite a bit…” |
Ethan no longer locked, or even shut, the restroom door at home while he peed. He just left it wide open, an invitation. James didn’t come watch every time, but he did it often enough that Ethan had come to expect it. It no longer felt strange to have James there beside him as he emptied his bladder. It was no longer weird to hear James’s comments on the length and power of Ethan’s pee. It was no longer off-putting to have a conversation while Ethan was midstream. It was just a thing they did now.
Ethan liked that he could entertain James so thoroughly with something so simple and natural. When James made little comments expressing his amazement at Ethan’s capacity, it made him feel almost proud. Every time James rubbed his back and exclaimed something like, “Oh, wow! You poor thing! You had to go real bad! That’s so much!” Ethan felt nothing but warmth.
Ethan found himself holding it more often, so that when he went, James would be impressed. He’d be about to head for the restroom, then think ‘Oh, no. I can hold way more than this before it’s an issue,’ and go back to whatever he’d been doing.
A new habit he’d picked up was skipping his morning pee before work. He and James would get there, and Ethan would be filled up from a night’s worth of pee and his morning coffees, and he’d keep holding out until the tasks that needed to be completed first thing were carried out. Then, and only if nothing else had come up, Ethan would pee. He would even invite James to join him in his restroom to watch.
As he gushed out his morning coffees, Ethan thought about how this new facet of their relationship had begun right there in this room; All because Ethan hadn’t been able to get a break for so long while his beloved assistant was home sick with a cold. Back then, Ethan never would have thought he’d come to like it so much. He doubted if he’d have ever enjoyed this to such an extent on his own, it was James’s excitement that had rubbed off on him, and Ethan was beginning to be more okay with that. He liked this weird thing now, and that was okay.
It wasn’t long after Ethan became comfortable to start leaving the door open at all times that James asked if they could try something new. Ethan said he was open to hearing what James wanted, but that he couldn’t guarantee he’d want to try it. He was a little worried James wanted Ethan to pee on him, or the other way around. Ethan was pretty sure he wouldn’t like that, it would be a bridge too far.
But, that wasn’t what James wanted.
He wanted Ethan to ‘control’ him.
Ethan had no idea what that meant at first, so James explained.
“So, you want me to force you to hold it?” Ethan asked. “I don’t… Your bladder’s a lot weaker than mine is. What if I misjudge it, and you have an accident, or get hurt, or—“
“That’s what the safeword is for,” James said. “If it hurts, I’ll use that and we’ll stop. I’ve honestly fantasized about you making me hold it from the moment I started working for you.”
“What?”
“Yeah, every time I asked for a toilet break, I kept hoping you’d say no and tell me to wait longer. I wanted you to scold me for needing so many breaks and say I couldn’t have any more. Then, yell at me for squirming since it’s not professional, and—“
“I think that would be illegal,” Ethan interrupted. “An employee can’t be denied bathroom breaks.”
“I know,” James said. “But, it’s a fantasy. It doesn’t have to be realistic. I know we can’t really do that. But when I hold it for you, can you pretend we’re at work? And you’re, like, a super tough boss and I gotta do what you say?”
“I guess I could do that for you,” Ethan said. “We can’t do it at work, though. It has to be here in the house.”
“I know. It’s just pretend,” James said.
That weekend, James was bubbling with excitement. Ethan, on the other hand, was nervous. He was scared he’d be too mean to James. He knew he could be mean to others sometimes when they’d irritated him, but he never wanted to be mean to James. What if he went too far and it wasn’t fun for James anymore? What if, in an effort to please him, James didn’t use the safeword even when he really, really had to and he hurt himself?
“So, how does this work?” Ethan asked.
“First, I’ll drink a lot of water, and you go to your desk and pretend like you’re working. Or, actually do some work, either one is fine. Get the printer paper out, and I’ll pretend I’m sorting paperwork for you, and just… When I tell you I have to go, you have to say that I can’t, okay?”
“Okay…” Ethan said. “That’s what you want?”
“Uh-huh,” James nodded. “It will be fun, I promise.”
Ethan hoped it was… But, when he pictured James tearing up and begging, he knew it was going to be very hard not to whisk him straight to the toilet. “How long do I do that for?” Ethan wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to handle watching James need something so badly while having to deny it from him.
“Until my bladder can’t take it anymore,” James said.
“Wait, do you mean you want me to force you to hold it until you wet yourself?” Ethan asked. “Because, if so, I need to find something to protect the carpet with first.”
“Oh, right,” James said. “Um… I’ll get some trash bags to stand on top of when I lose it,” James said.
“You really want to wet yourself?” Ethan was surprised. True, peeing his pants in the elevator hadn’t been a completely awful experience, but it had still been an accident and not something he’d intended to have happen. He couldn’t imagine planning to do such a thing, but James was giddy with excitement.
“Yes,” James said. “I’ve never wet myself on purpose before, I want the first time to be with you.”
Relationships were full of firsts. First dates, first kisses, first times in bed… But, Ethan was pretty sure most relationships did not have a ‘first purposeful pants peeing’. “If… If that’s what you want,” Ethan said. “But, make sure you get on those bags before you… Go. Alright?”
“I will,” James promised.
“And… Please tell me if I’m upsetting you?” Ethan asked. “This just… It’s going to feel really mean, and I don’t like being mean to you.”
“I understand,” James said. “But, I want you to do this. If it starts to hurt, I’ll let you know.”
Once James had drank a few glasses of water, he sat down in front of a big stack of printer paper and began pretending that he was sorting important paperwork. Ethan, meanwhile, had taken James’s suggestion and was actually doing some work on his laptop. He focused on his work, trying not to dwell on the fact that he was going to be behaving in a very cruel way to James soon.
Ethan got absorbed in his tasks, and soon felt a tap on his shoulder. “Ethan, may I please have a toilet break?” James asked when he turned around.
Ethan had momentarily forgotten what they were doing and was about to answer the way he usually would; “Of course you may. Get yourself comfortable.” But, then he remembered what was going on, remembered what James wanted him to do. “N…No,” he said instead. “Not yet, alright? I need to make sure everything gets done on time, is that okay?”
“Okay,” James said, and went back to where he’d been.
Ethan frowned, pretty sure that his performance just now hadn’t been quite the ‘tough boss’ routine James had been hoping for. Ethan had an easy time yelling at other people, saying things that weren’t the least bit nice. But, he just couldn’t with James. If James weren’t James, it would be perfectly simple to snap at him and order him to sit down and not pee. But, since James was James, it just made Ethan’s heart hurt.
He heard James shuffling the papers around again and swallowed. His throat sure was dry… “Hey, James?” Ethan asked. “Could you get me some water, please?” He cleared his throat. “That’s… Um… That’s an order!”
James smiled as Ethan attempted to inject more authority into his voice. “Yes, sir!” He stood and fetched Ethan a glass of water, then returned to his papers. James was already feeling quite desperate, and it was making him so excited. His fantasy was finally gonna come true today; Ethan would be all tough and commanding, and James would beg and plead with him for relief that he’d never get.
Ethan continued to have James bring him waters, and each time it became harder and harder for James to watch the liquid trickle from the sink’s faucet and into the glass. Once, he had to almost hump the kitchen counter as he felt pee trying to work its way down his shaft. It made James happy though; Ethan repeatedly telling him to fill a glass with water was surely a sign that he was getting into his role.
In reality, Ethan hadn’t even been thinking too much about how filling up glass after glass with water would affect James’s filling bladder. He’d seriously just been really thirsty, all the nerves he felt about being cruel to James had caused him to sweat up a storm. The cool water was honestly just calming him down. But, soon all that water began working its way through Ethan’s system, and his bladder became uncomfortably full.
Ethan was about to stand from his desk and take care of it, but then he stopped. What was the protocol for this? Was it even okay for Ethan to relieve himself when they were in the midst of this kind of game? He didn’t know if it was… Maybe it was best just to hold it until after the game… He decided that was probably the best thing to do; If he left the room, it might break the illusion James wanted crafted for him, it would remind him that they were just at home and not really at work, and that Ethan wasn’t a cold, unfeeling and completely controlling employer. And, if he peed while James couldn’t… That would be so mean. Too mean. It would be downright cruel! He just couldn’t do that to him.
Ethan hooked his feet together and fanned his knees a couple times as he continued to work. He took stock of how many glasses of water he’d drained and realized he was gonna be in for a great deal of discomfort if James didn’t… Didn’t ‘lose it’ soon…
James hobbled up to Ethan a few minutes later, and one look at him let Ethan know that he likely didn’t have too much time left. His knees were glued together, his toes pointing towards each other as he struggled to maneuver from one side of the room to the other. One hand was tucked between his thighs, the other gripping his hair— Something James did when he was stressed. “Ethan?” James asked. “I—I know you said I have to— Oooh— That I have to keep working, but it’s an emergency!”
Ethan’s heart pounded. It looked like poor James was in real pain. He didn’t need to tell Ethan it was an emergency, it was clear as day. Ethan wanted nothing more than to say “Yes!” and to help James down the hall to the restroom so he could finally put an end to his suffering.
But, that wasn’t what James wanted.
James wanted Ethan to say “No.”
Ethan inhaled sharply, bracing himself for what he had to do. When he sucked in his breath, he became very aware of how bloated his own bladder was. The skin covering it seemed to be stretching itself unnaturally. He winced. He had to go so bad… “No,” Ethan said, trying to keep his tone even. “You, uh. You need to keep working! Abs—Absolutely no breaks!”
James’s eyes were shimmering, and Ethan’s chest contracted. “Oh, please?” James begged, bobbing up and down as his second hand joined his first one between his clenched legs. Ethan could see how sweaty his forehead was. “I’m really sorry! I can’t wait very much longer!”
Ethan shut his eyes. He tried to pretend James was someone else. Anyone else. He tried to pretend James was a random guy he bumped into at the grocery store, someone he didn’t even know, someone he didn’t care one iota about. He tried to pretend James was the head of the Homeowners Association, whom was a particularly obnoxious man that drove Ethan crazy with anger. He tried to pretend James was anyone on Earth, anyone other than who he was.
“No,” Ethan replied, eyes remaining squeezed shut as he pictured the irritating face of the man in charge of the Homeowners Association. He imagined every detail, every curve of that jerk’s face, as he tried with all his might to blot out the memory of James’s agonized appearance. Ethan went over every obnoxious thing the HOA had done to him, fining him the instant his grass got just slightly too tall, refusing to allow him to paint his garage door the color he wanted, the absolutely uncalled for letter he received after he tried to place a plastic goose holding a telescope in his yard as a decoration. He felt heat and frustration build as he remembered more and more irritating moments.
“No,” Ethan repeated. “You have to sit down and listen to me! Get back to work, and just hold it! I don’t want any more complaining!” His eyelids twitched, and he ordered himself not to open them. Don’t you dare look.
“Y-Yes sir,” James said quietly, and that meek tone sucked away all the annoyed fury Ethan had managed to stoke inside himself. This wasn’t the HOA bugging him, this was James needing something from him very badly! And, he’d just denied him that thing in such a rude way!
Ethan opened his eyes again, and his heart twisted in his chest. James was doing a full-blown pee dance now. His hands were glued to his dick, he was stepping in place and his hips were writhing. Watching it provoked two unpleasant reactions for Ethan; One, it made an absolute flood of guilt pour over his shoulders. Two, it made his own bladder throb with sick urgency, and he coiled his legs together. This brought him some relief, but only for a second, then he had to uncross them and cross them back the other direction. He did this a few times, “G—Get back to work!” he stammered.
James looked at Ethan’s twisting and convulsing legs for a second, before bobbing up and down. “Ohhh, I can’t!” He cried. “I have to go so bad! It feels like I’m gonna explode!”
“Think about something else,” Ethan said, trying to come across as dismissive. He squeezed his thighs together as a powerful pang of need pulsed through his aching bladder.
“Nnnh!” James exclaimed. “But… But all I can think about is waterfalls, and rivers, and rain! And urinals, and toilets, and peeing into them, and— Ohhhh, I gotta go pee so bad! Please, just let me!? I have to pee now, I’m gonna pee myself! I gotta pee! Please, please let me pee!”
Ethan turned himself back around as James kept begging, kept rambling on and on and on about water, toilets, and peeing— Oh, he just would not shut up about peeing! Every time he said the word, Ethan’s bladder would spasm, begging Ethan to let it do exactly what James was talking about. Ethan’s legs had tangled themselves into a completely agonized pretzel, his penis practically being crushed between them. Still, he could feel liquid pulse out through his tip, could feel his boxers growing damp and warm. He wanted James to hurry up and actually have that accident he kept insisting he was on the verge of.
But, instead James kept talking, “Please, Ethan? Please, please? I can’t wait anymore! I tried, I promise! But, it’s too much! I can’t hold it forever, just please let me go?! I’ll do something for you! I promise! I’ll work extra hard when I get back! I’ll work overtime as long as you want! Just, please, please let me go pee!” He was doubled over on himself now as the endless stream of words fell from his lips.
If James didn’t lose it soon, Ethan was gonna start letting loose a different kind of endless stream… Ethan had to move this along, had to make James wet himself as soon as possible so that the game would be over, and Ethan would know it was okay for him to go have a very, very badly needed pee of his own. “Stop holding yourself like that!” Ethan barked. “That’s unprofessional! Move your hands, and stand correctly! Keep… Keep your hands behind your back.”
James whimpered as he obeyed. Ethan’s heart trembled at the sound, almost as badly as his bladder was trembling. A long jet of urine sprayed the front of his boxers, and he hoped James hadn’t heard it. In spite of just ordering James not to grip himself, one of Ethan’s hands crept its way into his lap and pressed itself over his leaking cock.
“Ethan, I can’t stay like this!” James whined, still bent double, knees still knocking.
“Stand up straight,” Ethan ordered, growing panicked. Even with as tight as he was holding himself, he wasn’t able to stop dribbling. He prayed that none of it was making it to his chair, and forced himself to stand. It hurt so bad, his bladder screamed and he wasn’t able to bring himself completely upright. He was basically a mirror image of James now, apart from the fact that he was still using his hands.
James had thought initially that Ethan had been trying to conceal how turned on he’d gotten over the course of the game, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that that wasn’t the case. Ethan… Knew that James was the one that had to hold it, right? James couldn’t recall saying anything that should have led him to believe they both had to hold their bladders… “Um, Ethan?” James ventured, shimmying his hips with need as he fought not to resume gripping himself in his hands.
Ethan bounced in place, “Hold it!” He ordered, and James wasn’t sure if he was talking to him or himself…
Still, James responded with a panicked “I can’t!” because it was the truth. He’d been dribbling up a storm for the past several minutes, his floodgates were cracking and splitting apart, unable to restrain the ocean within.
“You have t—Ah!” Ethan’s command was interrupted by a not-tough-at-all sounding squeak of surprise. All the leaky rivulets that had been steadily trickling from his overworked pee-hole had suddenly been replaced by an absolute gusher of a stream, his urethra had become a fountain, uncontrollably spurting out a torrent that cascaded down his already dampened legs.
He was peeing.
Panicked, he dashed over to the garbage bags James had lain out on the floor, and once he was there, he just… Relaxed. The jet of liquid continued to spout into his rapidly soaking clothes, but the floor would be safe now. The warm feeling of his current was startlingly soothing, but that had nothing on the relief of letting flow after so much restraint. “Ahhhhh…”
James was stunned by what he was seeing, and incredibly confused as to why it was taking place, but he didn’t have time to wonder. The sight and sound of Ethan emptying himself was a whole Hell of a lot more than James’s bladder could handle. He scurried over to the trash bags and let loose, his bladder expelling every drop of liquid he’d been forcing it to keep inside. “Mmmm, that feels better!” he said.
Liquid drizzled from both of them for well over a minute, splashing against the plastic bags at their feet. James wanted to ask Ethan what in the world had happened, but was too caught up in how ridiculously comfortable he felt while his engorged bladder drained away that he couldn’t speak. He didn’t know if Ethan could really talk that much either, he’d been moaning his head off like crazy the whole time, more and more pee hissing into his completely drenched clothes.
Once they were both finally empty, James spoke; “So… What was that about?”
Ethan blushed, looking down at his completely saturated pants. “I… I really had to go,” he replied.
James laughed as he picked up the drowned garbage bags and placed them inside of a larger, dry one. “Yeah, I… figured that part out. But… Why? I was supposed to be the one holding it, remember?”
“I know,” Ethan said. “I just… I didn’t know how that… Worked. If it was okay for me to take a break like that while we did this. So, I just thought I should hold it.”
“You didn’t have to do that!” James said. “You could have gone. You could have gone and forced me to watch while I kept holding it! That would have been—“
“That would have been so mean!” Ethan interrupted.
“Not for me,” James said. “For me, it would have been really fun!”
“Oh…”
“Was this difficult for you?” James asked. “I know you were really worried about hurting me, but you didn’t. You won’t. I already told you, if I’m in pain, I’ll—“
“I wasn’t just worried about hurting you physically,” Ethan said. “I was… I just—“
“You don’t like to think you’re upsetting me,” James said. “Is that it?”
“Yeah.”
“I understand that,” James said. “But… You weren’t. When you kept saying ‘no’, that was fun for me. I liked being denied, and I liked you controlling me. It’s what I wanted, you weren’t upsetting me at all. You weren’t being mean, because you were doing what I asked you to do.”
“It’s just that it’s really, really not easy for me to see you needing something, and then not be able to help you,” Ethan said. “Even if it is what you want. It’s… Difficult for me.”
“We don’t have to do this again if it just stresses you out,” James said. “This was supposed to be fun for both of us, and it doesn’t sound like it was for you.”
“Is that okay?” Ethan asked. “You’re… Kinda asking me to go against all of my instincts with this, and I really don’t know if I’ll ever be able to turn that off.”
“I mean, I’ll still want to hold it for you,” James admitted. “But, maybe we can think of a different way to do it; One that doesn’t stress you out?”
“I'd like that,” Ethan said. “You are really cute when you’re bursting, it’s just the ‘not helping you’ part that’s unpleasant for me.”
“I’ll try to think of something else we can do,” James said. “Something that will make us both happy.”
“Thanks,” Ethan said. He looked back at his wet clothes, that were now feeling awful clammy and sticky. “Let’s go clean up first, though.” |
Sorry for the delay, and I'm sorry but delays may be more frequent for a little while. I'm currently working on some non-kink writing projects, as well as preparing fics for Omovember.
***
“Hey, Ethan?” James asked. “You like Rubik’s Cubes, don’t you?” He’d seen Ethan kept one on his desk at work, but hadn’t ever seen him fiddling around with it and had begun to think it was just a decoration.
“I do,” Ethan nodded. “I used to play with them all the time when I was younger; My school held a contest to see who could solve one the fastest, and I got second.”
“Cool,” James said. “You’re so smart. I’m terrible at them, they make me feel like an idiot.”
“You’re bad at Rubik’s Cubes because you’re color-blind, James,” Ethan said. “Not because you’re an idiot.”
“So, you can solve them really fast?” James asked. “Even if they’re super scrambled up?”
“It’s been a while since that contest, but I guess so,” Ethan said. “Why?”
“Hold on,” James said. He dashed into their bedroom and came back holding a belt. It was not an ordinary belt, however, the buckle had a lock hanging from it, preventing it from being unclasped until the lock was opened. Besides the belt, he was also holding a Rubik’s Cube.
Ethan looked at it in confusion. “James, what’s—“
James lifted the top row of the Rubik’s Cube, revealing it doubled as a very small treasure chest; a round compartment was inside, which housed a tiny key. “It can only open if the colors are all in the right place, since otherwise the edges of the compartment just get stuck on each other.”
“…Oh,” Ethan said after a moment, beginning to guess where James was going with this. “So, when it’s scrambled, the key is stuck inside and you can’t—“
“Exactly,” James said. “I thought it would be loads of fun if I got desperate wearing this belt, and then you had to solve the cube so I could pee. This way, I get to feel like you’re in charge of when I go, and you get to feel like you’re helping me.”
Ethan thought it over, this sounded much more enjoyable than trying to force himself to treat James poorly. The other times he’d been with James while he was bursting, the part he liked best was helping him make it in time, see his cute face soften with relief as he finally got what he so badly needed. This would give him the opportunity to ‘save’ James, rather than torment him.
“Sure,” Ethan said. “We can do that. But, just in case I’ve somehow forgotten how to solve those things, if you’re in pain, the lock can be broken or something, can’t it?”
“We’ve got bolt cutters, right?” James asked. “The lock on my locker in high school broke, so I couldn’t open it, and the janitor just cut it off with that.”
“We do,” Ethan said, but he shuddered at the thought of someone wielding a metal, pinchy thing so close to his crotch— Especially if he was uncontrollably squirming around while it happened. In such a scenario, Ethan imagined he may end up having an accident just from the nerves alone.
Hopefully that didn’t happen to James.
James put on the belt and clicked the lock into place. He wasn’t gonna get his pants off now until Ethan got him the key. That idea filled him with bubbling excitement, like he’d just drank a ton of sugary, carbonated sodas.
The fact that he hadn’t actually done that was a problem that needed to remedied right away. Fizzy drinks always seemed to go right through James; He knew that this was because of the carbon dioxide irritating the sensitive walls of his bladder, making his urgency spike faster. He’d learned years ago not to drink any soda at a movie theater unless he wanted to miss part of the film, and never to have bubbly water before a long drive or else he’d be begging for a stop long before the destination was reached.
But, today an intense urge to go was exactly what he was after, so he cracked open a few sodas and drank them down quickly. Then, he settled in on the couch beside Ethan. Ethan patted his knee, “Is it uncomfortable to wear a lock?” he asked.
“Not yet,” James said with a laugh. “I’m sure it’s gonna be real uncomfortable in about an hour, though!”
The Rubik’s Cube box was on the coffee table in front of them, and Ethan reached for it.
James pulled Ethan’s hand away; “Not yet,” he said. “I don’t even have to go yet! You don’t have to worry about it, I’ll tell you when I need the key.”
“Okay…” Ethan said. Just trust him, he told himself. Trust him as much as he’s trusting you.
James rested his head against Ethan as they watched a movie together. Partway through, James started to feel antsy. The bubbly sodas were making themselves known, sending him several pangs to remind him that they were gonna need to come out. He shimmied his hips a little, pressed himself into Ethan.
Ethan snuggled back and kissed James’s pink, flushed cheek. His eyes were starting to go wide, need clear on his face. He was… He was just so cute…
James continued to shift around, but he never backed away from Ethan’s side. His partner’s body was putting some much needed pressure against his crotch, and the comfort and calm of cuddling with him was making him not even want to get up and use the restroom.
Soon though, James was basically just grinding into Ethan. Ethan certainly didn’t mind the feeling, but was beginning to feel a reminder of the coffee he’d had with breakfast— And of the fact he’d neglected to have his morning pee once again. Remembering what happened last time, he decided to just ask James what to do; “I have to go,” he informed, bouncing a knee to emphasize that he didn’t feel like waiting much longer. “May I?”
James pushed himself more firmly into Ethan’s side and shimmied his hips a little. “Only if I can watch.”
Ethan looked at him a moment; “You want to do that? Even when you’re—“
“Yes,” James interrupted. “Oooh, but I may need help standing up!”
James did need a bit of help standing, and he hobbled on shaky legs after Ethan. When Ethan unzipped and let his stream flow, he tried not to sigh aloud at the sensation of release. He didn’t want to be cruel. He didn’t want to rub it in how good it felt to pee while James was stuck holding it.
Even so, the sound and sight of Ethan’s pee trickling into the bowl was having a very obvious effect on James. He was gripping onto his cock, his whole body twitching. “D—Does that feel good, Ethan?” James asked through gritted teeth.
“…It does,” Ethan admitted.
“H—How good?” James prodded.
Ethan realized James was really wanting to be teased, so he tried to give him what he desired; “R—Really good,” Ethan said. “I… Um, was holding it for a while. Nice to… Nice to not have to worry about keeping it back anymore, you know?”
James’s thighs clenched tight around his clutching hands, as he rocked back and forth on his toes. “Nnnh, yeah. Bet it feels nice.”
Ethan shook himself off and zipped up. When he went to wash his hands, he tried to keep the sink at a low volume, but James told him to crank it up; “Your hands won’t get clean with so little water, Ethan!”
Ethan obeyed, and James moaned and jiggled as the sound of the faucet echoed through the room.
They returned to the couch a few minutes later, and instantly James coiled himself around Ethan once more, letting out a hiss of air through his teeth. James practically dry-humping him, squeezing into him even harder each time his bladder pulsed was beginning to have an effect on Ethan. This was still all so new to him, but he couldn’t deny how nice it felt to have this much physical contact with James while he was so needy. Every few seconds, James would let out an adorable, mewling whine.
“Ethan?” James cried suddenly.
“Yes, James?”
“I can’t wait much longer, I need help!” James said. “Please? It’s an emergency!”
“Of course I’ll help you,” Ethan said. “All you need to do is ask me.” He reached for the Rubik’s Cube box and began to fiddle with it. He discovered that it was a little different from what he was used to, all the jagged edges beneath the tiles made the sides a little trickier to shift. Sometimes, they’d get a bit caught on one another. They didn’t glide smoothly and swiftly like a normal Rubik’s Cube did. A few times, he managed to get a part completely stuck and he’d need to take a few seconds to work out how to get it moving again.
James watched him work intently, holding onto himself for dear life as his hips shifted and his knees both bounced. “Oooh, hurry!” he pleaded.
“I am, don’t worry,” Ethan said, trying to impart calm as he unjammed one part of the cube for the second time. “I’ll have it in a couple minutes, I promise.”
“Mmm, I don’t know if I have a couple minutes!”
Once Ethan had gotten more used to how this particular cube needed to be manipulated, it became easier. He could use the same strategies he remembered using in that contest from high school, and before long, all the colors were matched up. Ethan popped the box open and retrieved the key. He asked James to move his arm for a second, which he did but not without substantial whimpering. Ethan poked the key into the lock, and freed him from his belt. “There you are!” he said. “Ready to go?”
“Very!” James squeaked out around the heavy weight in his abdomen. He was dancing in place as Ethan stood to follow him. Once Ethan was up, James took off in a hurry, already pulling down his zip. Good thing, too, he was peeing the second he was an okay distance from the toilet. “Ahhhhhhhh, much better!” he exhaled. He looked over his shoulder at Ethan whom was watching him gush. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” Ethan said. “Feeling better?”
James felt immensely better. Not just because he was letting his bladder empty at last, but because he’d found a way to hold it for Ethan that didn’t make his partner feel uncomfortable or worried about being too mean. They could do this all the time now!
And, judging by the fierce blush on Ethan’s face and how wide his eyes had gotten, it looked like Ethan was enjoying James’s show quite a bit. James was positive now that Ethan definitely liked this, he liked seeing James need him, he liked helping James, and he liked seeing James so happy and relaxed when he got what he needed.
James’s bladder may have been pretty full, but it was still weak and small, and he finished up completely after a little under a minute. “Ahhhh….” he sighed again. “All done…” He turned to wash his hands, talking to Ethan; “Did you like that game a little better?” he asked, just to make sure.
“Yes, quite a bit,” Ethan said. “I would not mind… partaking in that again some day.”
“Yay!” James said happily. “But, maybe next time you can hold it and I can try to get the key.”
“James,” Ethan sighed. “You’re color-blind. If I need you to solve a Rubik’s Cube before I can use the restroom, I’m going to end up wetting myself.”
“Heh, I know,” James smiled.
Ethan blushed, cleared his throat; “W…We’ll see about that, uh… Definitely not anytime soon though, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
***
So, the inspiration for this one was the meme below. If you want a Rubik's Cube lock-box, you can find them here, I do think it would be a pretty fun thing to use for real-life holding games. |
Okay, so I have a huge backlog of fiction updates to post to this site, but since I don't want to put up a ton all at once I'll just do a couple each day (Like, one chapter for each story.) You can view my AO3 account if you want to see more right away. (Link to that on my profile.)
***
“Your call is very important to us,” the automated message drawled for what must have been the hundredth time.
Ethan was really beginning to doubt that. He’d been standing in the kitchen, listening to this same message over and over and over again for the past hour and a half. Why was it so difficult to just get someone to come replace their busted router?
“Please continue to hold,” the robotic voice on the other end of the line requested.
Ethan had no choice but to continue holding. In more ways than just one. The hand that wasn’t holding the phone was clutching tightly to his dick, his legs held tensely together. Trying to place one too far apart from the other made his urethra tremble as a spurt forced its way down his length. To add insult to injury, the restroom was clearly visible from where he was, the door wide open and inviting.
He’d considered simply taking the phone into the restroom with him, but if Ethan didn’t have bad-luck, he’d have no luck at all. It was completely possible that the minute he started peeing, someone would finally answer his phone call and he’d have to endure the humiliation of them hearing him gush. Aside from that, he knew that he would need to give the representative he spoke to a lot of information about the busted router, which was currently sitting on the kitchen table, along with all the paperwork he’d filled out with the company, it was to much stuff to carry into the restroom with him, and there’d be no place to put it in there. He didn’t know what all he’d be asked, and he couldn’t memorize all of it, so if someone answered while he was midstream, he wouldn’t be able to respond to anything they needed until after he’d finished peeing.
“Your call is very important to us.”
“Bullshit…” Ethan muttered, trying to find the correct way to bend his fingers that would transform his hand into a more suitable cork.
Being in his own house was making it worse. His bladder did not understand why he hadn’t taken it to the toilet he could so clearly see. It only understood that he was home, and that the toilet he’d released it into hundreds of times before was just a short walk away. It pinched at him mercilessly, demanding to know what the hold-up was. His thighs quivered as he began marching in place, his heels lifting one after the other from the floor.
He wished he could just give the phone to James for a few seconds! But, James liked to sleep late on the weekends, Ethan didn’t want to wake him up. Not to mention, the account with this company was in Ethan’s name, and he knew from previous experience that that meant they wouldn’t even talk to James.
“Please continue to hold.”
“I can’t!” Ethan whimpered, his sphincters were trembling with the effort it took to not just… spray everything out right there. “Don’t you understand that?” He gave himself a tight, firm squeeze.
He spent another twenty minutes like that, writhing around where he stood and just hoping someone would pick up on the other end. He began to feel a bit of trepidation about that; He had no idea how he was gonna keep it together and hold a conversation with someone when he was so close to flooding his kitchen.
James finally emerged from the bedroom, sleepily fumbling down the hall to the restroom. ‘Please shut the door, please shut the door, please shut the door…’ Ethan silently begged in his mind.
But, for as much as they may have loved each other, they had yet to spontaneously gain the ability to read one another’s minds. James hadn’t even looked over at Ethan, he’d just flicked on the light in the restroom, lowered his pajama pants, and released a gushing torrent into the toilet. And, dear God, was it ever loud!
It sounded impossibly loud to Ethan’s desperate, frantic ears. Without the barrier of a shut door, Ethan could hear it even more clearly, and he could see the way James’s shoulders slumped and lost a bit of tension as a night’s worth of urine drained out of his body. Ethan’s own bladder quivered with jealousy, nudging him; ‘James looks like he’s feeling really good now! Wouldn’t you like to feel that good? Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t it be so great to just relax and let yourself go?’
Ethan bobbed in place, squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of James’s relief, and the tantalizing fantasies that it caused for him.
“Mmm…” James hummed softly as he finally finished up. A couple minutes later, he was in the kitchen… And any grogginess that he still felt was gone in an instant when he saw how Ethan was jiggling and curling around on himself. James was surprised that, even now that he’d seen Ethan bursting so many times, he never seemed to get tired of it. Each new experience was just as exciting as the first one had been. He was so drawn to Ethan’s twisting, wriggly urgency that it took him several seconds to understand why it was taking place. “Stuck on hold?”
“Yes…” Ethan whimpered. “And I can’t much longer!”
“I meant the phone,” James said with a smile.
“Oh. Yeah. I’m holding there too,” Ethan said.
“Did you skip peeing when you woke up this morning again?”
“No,” Ethan said. “I just…Ah—“ his grip on himself somehow managed to get tighter, and James noticed a dark line beginning to go down the leg of his pajama pants. “I had trouble sleeping last night, so I was really tired this morning, and had a few extra coffees and—And—“ he moaned a little, and James heard the hiss of liquid spraying into his clothes. “And— Oh, God, they want to come out now!”
“Let me take the phone for a minute,” James said. “That way, you can—“
“No, they won’t talk to you, remember?” Ethan said. “That won’t work—-Nnnnnh!” He doubled over and nearly dropped the phone before he remembered that a double-handed grab on his cock wasn’t an option at the moment.
“Aww,” James said, unable to stop himself from grinning, pink-faced; Ethan was just irresistibly cute when his bladder was this full. “Poor thing… How long have you been waiting?”
“Probably around two hours by now,” Ethan managed, his legs rubbed together, sweat beaded down his face. “I— Oh, I can’t take it anymore!”
“Just let me—“
“They’ll only answer to me!”
“That’s not what I was gonna say,” James informed. “I just need you to let me think for a second…” He glanced around the kitchen, before pulling open a drawer and removing a large measuring cup. “This holds a liter,” he announced. “Heh, bet you could FILL it right now, couldn’t you?”
Ethan winced as he realized what James was suggesting and conflicting feelings ran through his mind. On the one hand, he needed that measuring cup, and he didn’t think he’d be able to use it for cooking knowing he’d peed in it once before. But, on the other hand, he NEEDED that measuring cup, and his bladder had started to loosen itself up the minute he’d laid eyes on it. Just at the mere sight of something that could grant him relief, liquid had once again begun trickling noisily down his leg. “I— Um… Yes.”
James beamed and ran back over to Ethan, setting the cup down on the table for him. Ethan struggled to undo the button on his pants, finding that he couldn’t with one hand. And, he knew he wouldn’t be able to aim and hold the cup with one hand, either. “James…?” he asked, blushing at the whine in his tone.
“Oh, you need help?” James guessed. He unfastened Ethan’s button and pulled his member out, then grabbed the measuring cup and held it beneath his dribbling, exhausted urethral opening.
Ethan looked down at him with a plea on his lips he couldn’t bring himself to voice.
“Go,” James prompted.
And that was all it took for the deluge to start, liquid rattled against the plastic bottom of the receptacle, and Ethan panted and moaned as the endorphins of release flooded through his veins. “Ahhhh… Thank you, thank you, thank you… That’s it… That’s it…”
“…Sir?” a voice on the other end of the phone asked, and Ethan immediately turned beet red. A stranger had been able to hear him moaning his head off and babbling relieved, thankful gibberish for at least a couple seconds.
“Y—Yes?” Ethan answered breathily, still gushing away like a broken sprinkler, still incapable of comprehending much more than how wonderful this feeling was.
“What were you calling us today fo—“ The representative stopped speaking for a second. “I think I’m hearing a lot of static on your end,” he said.
Ethan’s blush deepened even further. He had a feeling it wasn’t ‘static’ the guy was hearing… “Oh, um… Ahhh,” he was unable to stop himself from breathing out another sigh. “My phone… Does that at the beginning of calls? It will stop any second now, I’m sure.”
“I hope. It’s awfully loud.”
A shiver traveled up Ethan’s spine, his relief was nearing its close and the pleasurable sensations intensified. He felt it all over, just beneath his skin, tingly and soft. “Mmmm…Yes, it should be over in just a few seconds.” He felt his stream dwindle down to a trickle, felt James shake him off and tuck his dick back into his pants before sliding his button back into place. Ethan felt so light and free… So gloriously empty… “Is it gone now?”
“Yes, it’s stopped,” The representative said.
“That’s good,” Ethan said. “I was calling because I need a replacement router…” He trailed off as he saw James set the measuring cup on the table with a beaming smile. Ethan wanted to yell at him to go dump it out and rinse it, get it off the kitchen table for God’s sake— But, stopped. Not because he’d realized the guy on the other end of the line would hear what he said, but because he could now see for himself just how much had been in his bladder.
He’d filled that cup completely.
He’d filled a one liter measuring cup to its absolute brim.
No wonder he’d been so uncomfortable, and no wonder James looked so ridiculously impressed.
Once Ethan was finally off the phone, he told James to go clean out the cup. “I know you say urine is sterile unless I’ve got an infection, but I’d still prefer NOT to have it on the table.”
James giggled; “Okay, but… Wow, I knew you could hold a LOT, but… I just… Wow,” he said once more. “Is this how much you normally go?”
“I have no idea,” Ethan said with a roll of his eyes. “I have to say that this is the very first time I’ve urinated into a measuring cup.”
“I’ve done it a few times,” James informed with a broad smile.
“I hope you didn’t use one of the ones we use for cooking…”
“No, never those,” James said. “Just, this time was an emergency. Anyway, the most I’ve ever filled a cup this size is just about half-way, and that time I’d been so desperate I couldn’t think straight! I didn’t even know it was possible to fill it all the way, good job!”
Ethan blushed, “Heh, I guess if you think it’s impressive, then I do too.” |
Ethan considered himself a logical, rational man most of the time. He only believed something once he had ample evidence. He was a man of science. Curses and jinxes did not have any basis in science, but he was pretty sure he had ample evidence now that one such thing had been placed on him. He had the worst luck of anyone he knew. His luck was so bad that it seemed other worldly.
He and James had gotten solar panels placed onto the house. It had snowed last week, so Ethan had gone up to clean the snow off of them. It should have been fairly easy, just climb up there, dispose of the snow, and climb back down. And he had managed those first two steps perfectly well. It was the third one now that was causing a problem.
While he’d been up there, handling the snow, a strong breeze had kicked up, and the ladder he needed to return to the ground and been blown right over. Since this was supposed to be such a quick excursion, he had neglected to bring his phone. James had driven to the store. With the chilly weather, their neighbors were all indoors and the houses were spaced far enough apart that he would need to yell very, very loudly to have even a hope of getting on their attentions— Most likely incurring the wrath of the Homeowner’s Association in the process, too. The house was two stories, and even with the snow on the ground, jumping would likely cause injury. It was too much of a risk, especially for someone like Ethan who was a bit scared of heights (not that he’d tell anyone.)
Ethan was trapped on his own roof.
James tended to take a long time at the grocery store. He’d get distracted by things and usually come back with a bunch of things that hadn’t been on the list, usually new flavors of cereal or potato chips. He’d only been gone for thirty minutes, so Ethan knew he had a lot of time left to keep waiting. And doing nothing.
He sat down beside the chimney and crossed his legs, wishing that a mere case of boredom was the worst thing he was being made to endure. But alas, it wasn’t. Not only did Ethan have nothing to do, he was also feeling one Hell of a reminder of all the hot coffee he’d had to warm himself up on the chilly day. He was kicking himself, because he’d actually needed to pee before he’d come up here, he’d just been so certain that it would only take a moment that he'd decided to forego a trip to the restroom until his job was finished.
He’d lived to regret that now.
Ethan really, really had to go. He had to go so badly that he’d had to swat away the mental image of himself pulling down his pants and climbing on top of the chimney to release his bladder down it. The idea revolted him to no end; exposing himself so much, making such an awful mess that he wouldn’t even know how to begin to clean up… But, his bladder vehemently disagreed with his sentiment and was not averse to the idea at all. It kept trying to convince him that peeing down the chimney was a wonderful idea, and that he was a fool not to do it.
“I’m not doing that,” he mumbled to himself, shimmying his hips and tucking his feet underneath his body. He was cold, and all the little shivers that he couldn’t stop from soaring through his body weren’t helping his situation at all. Each time he convulsed, his bladder was shaken up. And, like a can of soda, each shake made it more likely to explode.
At least since no one was around, Ethan didn’t need to try and conceal his need. He could squirm and bounce and hold himself all he wanted.The issue was that none of it was doing him much good. His hands had gone so numb from the low temperature that it was difficult to curl his fingers in far enough to get a decent grip on his cock. He’d settled for just pushing his palms against his crotch, but that didn’t give him enough extra pressure to stop the first leak from pulsing forth.
“Ahhh, no…” Ethan whimpered. “Hold it. Hold it, hold it, hold it…” He told himself he’d needed to go WAY worse than this before. This was nowhere near as bad as any of his airplane mishaps, or that time he’d lost it while trapped in an elevator, or the first time he and James had tried to play a holding game and his unwillingness to cause James harm had resulted in a very wet pair of pants…
He tried to stop thinking about all those events, and how they had each ended with an empty bladder and an absolutely orgasmic sense of relief. Each memory of release made his bladder spasm and dig against his opening as it searched for a way out. ‘Yes,’ it seemed to say. ‘Didn’t all those times feel GOOD, Ethan? Wouldn’t you like to feel that way again?’
A swirl of cold air whooshed around him and Ethan shivered so hard he looked like he was vibrating. Urine was hot. If he peed his pants, his crotch and legs would feel warmer at least… He shook his head, like it was an etch-a-sketch and he could erase ideas he didn’t like from it. If he peed his pants, he’d only feel warmth for a few minutes at most. It would cool off right away, and then he’d feel even colder, as well as clammy, sticky and embarrassed.
Hold it.
Ethan just wasn’t sure how much longer he could. He spent the next half hour crouched beside the chimney, trying to shield himself from the frigid wind as his hands dug between his squeezing thighs. “Oh, I have to peeee…” he murmured to himself. The statement was almost an understatement, as his urge now seemed to be something that went beyond a ‘need’. He wasn’t sure if a word existed in any language to adequately describe how badly he had to empty his bladder.
A new idea came to him, one which ought to have been obvious. He could just go to the edge of the roof, unzip, and piss off of it into the snow below.
Easy.
Simple.
Except, it wasn’t.
Ethan was petrified of heights. When he’d climbed up the stupid ladder earlier that day, he’d kept his head tilted skyward, doing everything to avoid looking back down. He’d been immensely grateful the solar panels were not close to the edge and that he could brush the snow from them without going too far out either. He was staying next to the chimney because it was the only place he felt decently supported up here, the only thing he could really grab hold of.
Going to the very edge of the roof, and then having to look down as he peed… It made him shiver from something that was neither cold nor desperation. He wondered if he’d even be ABLE to pee if he was feeling scared. He knew anxiety could sometimes be a cork, stopping a person’s bladder up even if they needed to pee very badly. But, he also knew that in some people, fear had the exact opposite effect and made them void themselves completely unintentionally.
Ethan recalled wetting himself when he’d gotten startled by what he thought was a wild coyote, so maybe being scared wouldn’t hinder his ability to go. Not that he was going to risk trying this. What if he fell off? What if he fell off midstream and injured himself badly enough to lose consciousness, and someone picked THAT moment to walk by, and he was taken off to the hospital with his dick out and his body covered in piss?
‘Well, that’s pretty unlikely,’ the logical, rational part of Ethan’s mind said. This part of his brain tried its hardest to reason through his fear. ‘You are not going to fall. How often do you fall over when standing totally still and pissing when you AREN’T somewhere high up?’
‘Being scared sometimes makes people lightheaded,’ the less logical, less rational part of Ethan insisted. ‘I could… pass out or something.’
‘How many times have you passed out from being scared?’ Logic replied.
‘Well, none, but—‘
‘Would you rather pee your pants and have to sit in it for an hour?’
‘…No.’
Ethan tried to take a few deep breaths as he prepared himself for what he had to do. Each inhale seemed to wrap another tight, elastic band around his bladder and as he forced himself onto his feet, his tip began to dribble. Tiny warm spots bloomed onto the front of his boxers. He made himself hurry to the edge, but didn’t dare look down. He kept his eyes clenched shut and his jaw tight as he unzipped himself and pulled his leaking member out.
He was going to have to look now. Just to make sure he didn’t pee on anything he shouldn’t. He had to look down. He had to. He peeled his eyes open slowly, feeling himself leaking the whole time, but thankfully no longer into his pants. Then, he looked down.
The ground looked implausibly far away now. It felt like he was atop a massive skyscraper instead of a simple, two floor house. He actually felt some of that dizziness he’d been afraid of, and even though he was sure he was aimed away from any of the lawn ornaments and told himself it was time to pee, he was still only dripping.
“Come on…” he mumbled. “The sooner I get this out, the sooner I can get away from the edge.” He reached and gave the area beneath his navel a little tap. Then another. And another.
The dribbles gave way to Niagara Falls. A clear, thin stream of liquid erupted from Ethan’s tip and trickled gently into the snow beneath him. He started to breathe a little easier as ONE of his worries steadily drained out of him. ‘I’m okay, I’m okay…’ he kept thinking. ‘I’m… Wow, this feels good!’ he’d been so frightened that for a second, he hadn’t realized how absolutely incredible the shrinking happening in his core was. “Ahhhh….”
It was a little weird, mind-shattering relief swirling around alongside buckets of fear. He tried to focus only on the sensation of his piss streaming out, but the fear kept creeping back in. When he shivered next, he wasn’t sure if it was terror, cold, or relief that made it happen. He was doing his best just to catch his breath.
He was so caught up in all his conflicting feelings that he failed to notice his and James’s car coming down the road until James had parked it in the driveway and shouted up at him. “Wow, Ethan! You must have really needed to go!”
“Gah!” Ethan gasped, startled by the sudden voice. He lost his footing and panic swelled through him as he fell… Backwards. Thank goodness… He fell BACKWARDS against the roof. Not forwards and OFF of it. He was okay. He wasn’t hurt. He was…
Still pissing.
Ethan’s stream had only broken for a second as he’d toppled backwards, now it was blasting more strongly than ever. But, he was laying on his back and his liquid was going everywhere. It splashed against the roof, soaked parts of his pants and areas of his shirt as well. And he couldn’t stop it if his life depended on it. He struggled to get back up, but he couldn’t seem to remember how to stand.
Thirty seconds later, it was all over. Ethan was covered in pee, and the area of the roof he was laying in hadn’t done much better. Ethan just stayed there for a moment, shocked he’d even managed to do this to himself. Then, he sat up, tucked himself back away, and zipped his pants. “… James,” he called. “Could you please get the ladder for me?”
James had watched all of this in awe. He hadn’t had the best view from the ground below, but when Ethan was at last OFF of the stupid roof, he was able to see the damage very well. “Oh…” he said. “That’s a mess…”
“The roof’s seen better days too,” Ethan said grouchily.
“Next time it rains,” James said. “It will wash right off, and;… I’m sorry I startled you. I shouldn’t have yelled, if you fell the other way you could have gotten really hurt! I just wasn’t expecting to see that…”
“It’s alright,” Ethan said. “I’m fine, just really need a shower now.”
“You should be able to get back at me now,” James said. “I made you have an accident, now you can make me have one too!”
“James, you didn’t MEAN for that to happen,” Ethan said.
“I know,” James said. “But, I WANT you to make me have an accident.”
“I don’t like being mean to you like that.”
“I know,” James repeated. “And, it’s not being mean when it’s something I want, maybe we can do something where, like, it feels like you just ACCIDENTALLY made me wet myself? Oooh! I can drink a lot before bed tonight and then you can hug me really tight when we go to sleep, so I’ll—“
Ethan smiled slightly, “I… I guess cuddling you so much that you pee your pajamas won’t feel THAT mean,” he admitted. “I’d… I’d hug you NOW, but I’m kinda gross.”
James pulled him in anyway, “Oh, come on! You know a little pee won’t bother ME at all!” |
Ethan and James had been playing games lately. Every weekend, if they had nothing else going on, then they would fill time by holding it. It was a contest of sorts, to see who could last the longest… But, there wasn’t much actual competition going on; Ethan always won. Often, James would have to give up and use the toilet before Ethan even felt truly desperate.
It was still fun, though. They’d lay in bed together and cuddle as their bladders filled. James liked being able to snuggle up to Ethan while his bladder began to stretch and pulsate with urgent, needy pangs. He liked kissing Ethan, whimpering into his mouth that he was bursting so, so badly for a pee.
Ethan liked it too. The way James strained and fidgeted against his body was invigorating. James always reached the point of intense, squirmy desperation before Ethan felt any hint that he was approaching an emergency of his own— Ethan actually felt a little bad about that, and that newly discovered, strange area of his brain really WANTED to experience what it was like for both of them to be out of their minds with the need to relieve themselves at the same time.
So, Ethan began drinking two glasses of water for every one James had. That worked a little better, but still James would always break first.
One weekend, Ethan had managed to get himself pretty desperate. He was fidgeting against James’s body as much as James was fidgeting against him. Both of them had their legs tangled beneath the covers. James’s hands were clutching at Ethan’s shirt as they kissed, while Ethan’s own hands were clutched around his cock.
James suddenly stopped kissing Ethan. Warmth was collecting between his thighs, and he felt them growing rapidly damp. “Oooh!” he moaned. “Ethan, I gotta tinkle sooo bad!”
Ethan couldn’t help it then, he laughed. And, immediately needed to pinch his opening shut much more tightly as a spurt of urine trickled from his own bladder. “Ah— D—Did you just say ‘tinkle’?” Ethan knew he was going red. Why did James have to be so cute all the time?
“Y—Yeah,” James whimpered out, carefully getting out of bed. Even through the fog of his desperation, he saw how much his word choice had made Ethan blush. “I gotta go now!” he said, rushing in the direction of the restroom.
Ethan stumbled after him, needing to take slow, pinched steps to avoid upsetting his bladder any more. He knew that watching James gush away when he was still holding it was probably a bad idea, but he couldn’t stop himself.
By the time he reached the restroom, James had already lowered his pajama bottoms and aimed himself at the toilet, releasing a heavy stream of clear liquid. “Ahhhhh…” he sighed.
Ethan’s hips bucked against his tense palms. “F—Feel better?” he asked, unsure if his sudden breathlessness was from his desperate need to do exactly what James was doing, or more to do with how adorable James looked standing there and shivering with relief.
“Mmm-hmm!” James replied happily, and then he stepped very slightly to one side. “Wanna go too?”
Ethan very much DID want to go… “You don’t mind?” he asked.
“Nope,” James said.
Feeling a little strange, Ethan took his place beside James and pulled out his member, allowing his bladder muscles to go slack at last. “Ahhh… Thank you…” he said.
James blushed and his heart started to beat very fast. Ethan expressing gratitude to him while relieving himself was doing things to James. “Y—You’re welcome…”
Ethan was surprised by how intimate this felt, by how close to James this activity was making him feel. This was far, FAR from the first time he’d urinated with James beside him, but to be doing it alongside him, sharing the same toilet and doing something so private together, felt very, very personal indeed.
James finished up a few seconds later, but stayed where he was to continue watching Ethan spray out his burden. He was aware Ethan had been desperate, he knew he’d been very uncomfortable holding so much back, but he also knew this wasn’t close to the limit of how much Ethan could contain within himself. When he finished up soon after, only about a minute after he’d started, James knew for sure he hadn’t been completely filled up.
James wanted to see Ethan reach his limit again. But, since it had become very clear that he’d never manage to outlast Ethan in a holding contest, James knew that this game wouldn’t be the way to see that happen. And hoping for Ethan to get caught short for real somewhere would just be mean, James would be more concerned for Ethan than delighted by his squirms and whimpers.
James needed to think of a new game.
The next weekend, Ethan asked James if he wanted to hold it again. James nodded, but said he wanted to try something slightly different. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want!” he qualified. “If you’re uncomfortable with it, just tell me and I won’t make you do it. A—And, of course, if we start this and you don’t like it, we can stop, and—“
“James,” Ethan said, blushing. It was rare for James to get so nervous, his stammering was adorable. “What is it?”
“I was thinking this week, instead of a contest, you could be the only one holding it. And… Um… You need permission from me to go.”
Ethan turned even redder. “You want to… Control me?”
“You don’t have to say yes!”
“I— I think I would like to try it,” Ethan said. “I mean, if I don’t enjoy it we can just quit, right?”
“Right!” James said, beginning to smile as he pictured Ethan doubling over, filled to the brim and eyes going wide with urgent need.
“But… Um… I don’t want to…” Ethan paused. “I’m not… I don’t think I’m ready to wet myself again just yet. The other times were actual accidents, I’m just not… I’m not ready to do that on purpose.”
“That’s fine!” James said. “I’ll let you go before you burst!”
So, James had Ethan fill up on water. He made Ethan drink even more than he did when they had holding contests. He was dying to see Ethan coming apart at the seams. After Ethan had downed a substantial amount of fluid, they laid in bed together just like they did every other weekend. James had put on a movie and while Ethan did seem to be paying attention to it, James wasn’t. His eyes were too busy staring at Ethan in anticipation.
Drinking so much so quickly had guaranteed Ethan would start filling up fast. Before long, he was shifting in place, trying to find a position that didn’t upset his bladder. James noticed his squirming immediately; “Uh oh, does Ethan have to tinkle?” he asked, remembering how red-faced Ethan had gotten the last time he’d used the word.
Ethan went even more crimson this time. “Y—Yes. He does…” he admitted.
“Well, I don’t want him to miss the movie,” James said. “So, I think he’s gonna have to hold it.”
Ethan didn’t protest when James denied him relief, nor did he protest when James basically pounced on him and began to snuggle him so close it was like he was trying to fuse the two of them together.
He did start to whine a little when James reached a hand between their bodies to poke and prod at Ethan’s bladder. The action was irritating it, making the walls squeeze in on themselves and ramping up Ethan’s urgency.
By the end of the movie, Ethan did consider himself desperate. “James?” he asked softly. “The movie is over…”
“I can see that,” James replied, giving Ethan a tight hug that was just as much a show of affection as it was an attempt to squeeze his bladder. “Want to watch another?”
Ethan shook his head. “You said I could relieve myself once it was over…”
“I don’t think I said that!” James teased. “I said you had to hold it so you wouldn’t miss anything, but I didn’t say anything about you getting to go as soon as it was over!”
Ethan winced and had to admit that James was correct. “M—May I?” he asked.
“May you what?”
“May I go to the restroom?”
James went quiet, pretending to seriously mull it over as he felt Ethan writhe against him. James looked into his eyes, big and wide and full of pleading. His pink lip was caught between his teeth as sweat poured down his forehead. “I guess we can go there,” he said.
Ethan sighed with relief, his bladder already going loose at the thought of the relief that was coming.
James had to help Ethan walk, placing a hand on his back to keep him steady as they went down the hall. Once they were in the restroom, Ethan hurried for the toilet and began to lift up the lid on the bowl.
“What are you doing?” James asked.
Ethan stopped, letting go of the lid and pressing the hand against his crotch instead as he stepped in place. “I thought you said I could—“
“Nope,” James said. “I told you we could go to the restroom, and now we’re here. I’ve done everything I promised you.”
Ethan jiggled up and down frantically. “But… But I— I need—“
“You need another glass of water?”
More fluid was the last thing Ethan needed or wanted! “N—No, I need to relieve myself! I have to pee!”
“Ohhh…” James said, coming closer and giving Ethan another brief kiss, feeling how flushed and warm his face was. “So, you still have to go pee?”
“Y—Yes,” Ethan said, twisting and turning every which way. The sight of the toilet that he peed into multiple times a day was maddening.
“You have to go pee really bad?”
“Yes,” Ethan said. He wasn’t sure what was happening in his brain right now. James’s teasing and taunts were doing something to him and he didn’t know what. He knew this should have been getting on his nerves, but it wasn’t. Ethan, control-freak Ethan, had this weird urge that he’d never had before to surrender completely, to let someone else take charge and make the decisions.
“Hmmm…” James said, reaching to suddenly jab a hand into Ethan’s middle.
“Ahh!” Ethan gasped, doubling over on himself and letting his other hand dive between his legs as well. “Don’t!”
“I guess you DO need to go really bad, huh?”
“I do!” Ethan agreed.
“Okay,” James said. “Lift the lid and seat up then.”
Ethan eagerly obeyed, almost moaning with relief at the sight of the bowl. He started to tug down his zipper.
“No,” James said with a shake of his head. “Not until I say.”
Ethan jumped up and down and stamped his feet, “Then say it already!”
“Hmmm… No,” James said. “You need to learn to stop getting ahead of me. I think you should wait a little longer to unzip now.”
Ethan squeezed himself hard. His bladder was even angrier now that the toilet was open and ready for use!
James started to count down from thirty very, very slowly, drawing out each syllable as long as he could. His eyes were fixated on Ethan whom was thrashing madly, legs out of control and hands tucked tight against his crotch. When he finally got to zero, he said “Okay, now you can unzip and aim.”
Ethan did, and a spurt of urine immediately hit the water in the bowl after. He cringed, because he had a pretty good idea what James was going to say next.
“No,” James said. “No peeing yet.”
Painfully, Ethan clamped off his flow. “When!?”
“Whenever I decide. For now, just stand there.”
And that was what Ethan did. He stood there, his member in his hands, aimed down at the toilet, his bladder brimming with an ocean, and all of it being restrained. All of it, that was, except for a drop that began to gather at his tip before gently plinking into the bowl. “J—James?” Ethan cried. “Now?!”
“Nah, not yet,” James said. “You can hold it.”
Ethan kept holding it, bobbing in place and squeezing his exposed cock hard to keep any more errant drops from slipping out. Standing right here, staring at the toilet with his zipper down, totally free to pee if it weren’t for James’s word was driving Ethan crazy. It must have been, that was the only explanation, he was losing his mind. That could truly be the only reason he’d be doing this. The only reason he’d be so willing to obey James’s wishes when his body needed so badly for him to disregard them. The only reason he now wanted James to praise him for doing a good job holding it even more than he wanted to pee.
But, he did really, REALLY want to pee… “James, now?”
James kept staring at him. “Hmmm… No. Hold it in.”
“Soon!?” Ethan asked, starting to wobble.
James saw the way his legs wavered and suggested; “You can sit down instead if you want.”
“O—Okay,” Ethan agreed. His legs were getting sore from all the bouncing and tension. Sitting on the toilet would probably be a lot easier anyway. Since Ethan was normally standing up when he peed, he reasoned his body would probably recognize the seated position as one that wasn’t meant for urination.
He pulled his pants down the rest of the way, turned, and sat, expecting that threatening tremble of his body right on the edge of voiding itself to go away now that he was no longer standing and aiming at the bowl.
But, instead of the urgency in his core lessening, it just grew much, much worse. He was stunned, but something about feeling the porcelain beneath his skin made him REALLY want to just let go. The sound of liquid splashing against liquid alerted both him and James that he HAD let go for a second. “J—James!” he cried out, barely managing to stem the flow of his leak. “Pl—Please say I can go? Please?!”
James hadn’t even realized how much he’d wanted— How much he’d NEEDED— to hear Ethan BEG him for permission to empty his bladder until he actually heard it. For the briefest of seconds, his heart seemed to stop beating and his body trembled with alternating heat and coldness. Far too much blood flowed instantly downwards. “H—Hold it…” he breathed, unable to resist touching himself through the fabric of his pants.
Another loud trickle of liquid sprayed the bowl beneath Ethan. “James, please!?” he cried out, thrashing madly on the seat that would be granting him untold amounts of relief if he didn’t want so much for James to say he was being good. “Please, please? I can’t wait! I can’t! Please!?”
James felt like he may very easily cum in his pants and forced himself to stop rubbing his hand overtop the fabric encasing his very hard dick. This was the single hottest thing he’d ever seen; Ethan so flustered, so out of control, so absolutely dying to perform a basic function… And doing everything he could to avoid giving in to what his body needed all to please James. “Y—You want to pee?” James asked, his voice wavering.
“Yes!” Ethan exclaimed. It was all he wanted! He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything! Another drop slipped out his urethra. “Please, can I go? Please?”
“Maybe in a few minutes…” James considered.
Ethan made a sound that was a cross between a moan and a cry. “I can’t! I can’t hold it! I need to go right now! Please, say I can go! Please, please! I can’t wait!”
“You can’t?” James asked, trying to look very shocked. “Well, why don’t you pee, then? You’re on a toilet.”
Ethan’s thighs clamped together tighter and tighter. Was that permission? Could he finally give in, give his poor, aching muscles the break they so badly needed? “A—Am I allowed now?”
“Ye—“
Before James could finish granting Ethan permission, he was interrupted by the sound of a tsunami being unleashed into the toilet bowl. There was no build-up. No, slow, trickling start to Ethan’s release, he was pissing as forcefully as he possibly could the very instant he knew it was at last time to let it out. And then he was moaning, panting, gasping, nearly crying from the relief. “Ohhhh… Thank you… Thankyouthankyouthankyou, thank you so much… I couldn’t hold it… I couldn’t—“
James tucked a stray strand of Ethan’s hair, frazzled from so much frantic desperation, behind his ear. “You DID hold it,” he said. “You held it so long. You did such a good job!”
Another ecstatic moan dropped from Ethan’s lips then, his jaw going slack and his eyelids drooping shut. “Ahhhh… Held it… So… Long…”
“You did such a good job,” James repeated, now running a hand between Ethan and the toilet tank, stroking his spine. Ethan seemed to like that VERY much because he began to shudder and shiver as he panted out more and more sighs.
Ethan was even more attractive now than he’d been when he was still holding it. He was going so loose, James could feel the tension flowing from his spine as he rubbed him there. He looked like he could just sit there forever, enjoying the blissful oblivion of releasing his bladder. “Aww, somebody had to go BAD, didn’t they? That’s better… That’s all better…”
Ethan thought James’s cooing ought to have sounded patronizing, but it didn’t. It made him feel warm in a way he seldom did. “So… Much… Better…” he agreed, beginning to wonder if he was ever going to STOP peeing. Honestly, he was starting to think he wouldn’t mind that much if he kept on gushing forever. This felt so good that he didn’t want it to end.
It did eventually, of course. His bladder, while enormous, was not bottomless. It took him over two minutes to finish spraying, followed by another few seconds of slow dripping, and then he was finally emptied. He continued to sit there though, dazed as James kept stroking his spine.
“All done?” James asked. “Wow, that was a lot, even for you!”
Ethan finally stood and started to pull his pants back up— Feeling a little silly for doing so because he had a feeling James would be pulling them back down for him very soon. He felt a slight tenderness in his middle. “I think we’re going to have to take a little break from this for a while. I’m a bit sore after that.”
James didn’t mind that. Ethan had just put on such an amazing performance for him that he’d earned himself a break. He’d earned himself quite a few things, really. “You’re not TOO sore, are you? ‘Cause, I think you need a prize after that!”
“Heh, I’m not too sore for THAT,” Ethan said. |
And so, Ethan and James continued to play their game. James would have Ethan fill up on water, and then watch him squirm until he couldn’t take it anymore and begged for what he needed. Every pleading whine from Ethan’s throat made James feel things he hadn’t even known it was possible to feel. But, James was always wary that he would push Ethan too far, cause him to get hurt, or make him have an accident before he was ready for it. That was why the games typically concluded with James making Ethan hold while sitting on the toilet. That way, if his bladder gave out and he peed before permission was granted, he still wouldn’t wet his pants.
James was also worried that Ethan would hurt himself. A few times, he’d noticed Ethan’s lower belly beginning to grow very swollen, the fullness inside of him stretching his skin. When James saw this, he would ask Ethan repeatedly if he wanted to stop, he would remind him of the safe word and that he wouldn’t be upset if he wanted to quit because it was hurting him. But, Ethan always said he could keep going. Ethan was a stubborn man, and there were few things he’d admit to being incapable of. Even if Ethan was insistent that he was okay, James would always grant him permission to go after noticing his abdomen start to protrude.
Ethan did feel pain during a few of the games. But, he trusted James. James would give him what he needed before it harmed him. He actually liked James dropping his dominant act to care for Ethan and ask if he was okay, it made Ethan feel so warm and safe. One weekend, after Ethan had shuddered atop the toilet bowl as his long held stream finally blasted out of him, he realized that he was just about ready to feel warm in a different way.
Ethan thought that maybe he was finally ready to wet himself.
But, he was scared. He’d wet his pants a few times and those hadn’t been completely awful experiences, but he still wasn’t so sure how he felt about doing it on purpose, about making a plan to have an accident and then actually putting that plan in motion. He knew exactly what his damp, sodden clothes and uncontrollably draining bladder would feel like physically, but was less certain how it would feel mentally to know he’d done that to himself on purpose, that a part of him had really wanted it.
He informed James that he was thinking about finally trying it, but expressed his worries. What if he didn’t like it, what if it made him feel too ashamed? “The only one that will know about it is me,” James reminded. “And, you know I would never judge you for it. But, I’m worried too…”
“Why?” Ethan asked. “Have I been doing something wrong?”
“No! No!” James assured quickly. “You’ve been doing great, you’ve been… adorable these last few weeks. But, um, the time in the elevator, that first time I held it for you… Both of those times it was… Hurting you before you finally wet yourself, right?”
“Yes, it was a little painful,” Ethan nodded.
“And… When you’ve been holding it for me, you keep… so much in for so long, you actually start getting a little swollen. And you still hold on until I say you can go…”
“But, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“It’s… I’m worried that if we try to break your limit like that again, you’ll get hurt,” James explained.
“I wasn’t hurt after the thing in the elevator.”
“Yes, but you were in pain,” James said. “You were in actual pain before you finally let go, and then you told me it hurt a little coming out… Getting you THERE again might hurt you, and I never want to hurt you.”
Ethan nodded, he understood James’s worry. “So, should I just—“
“How about this; When I give you permission to go, you just… do it in your pants?”
James watched as Ethan’s eyes widened and his face turned scarlet. Planning to hold his pee until he lost control of his bladder had sounded daunting enough, but… actively telling himself to let it go in his clothes? “I’ll… I’ll try that…” he said anxiously.
“You don’t HAVE to!” James emphasized once more. “If this isn’t what you want, it’s okay, I won’t be—“
“I’ll try it,” Ethan said. “Just once, to know how it feels. If I don’t like it, I’ll just never do it again.”
“Okay,” James said, hoping that once all was said and done, Ethan DID like it.
The next weekend began the way all the previous had. James instructed Ethan to drink up, and then had him squirm in bed while they watched TV for a while. But, this time, when Ethan started to get that desperate, urgent look in his eyes that told James he was well on his way to an emergency, instead of bringing him to the restroom to continue the hold he had Ethan stand atop a pile of plastic garbage bags next to the bed. He watched Ethan fidget and writhe there for a bit.
“Now?!” Ethan would plead every few minutes, whimpering each time James shook his head and told him he had to keep waiting.
“How about now!?” Ethan tried once more.
“No, not yet. You can keep it in a little longer, can’t you?”
“Ohhh, I don’t know,” Ethan admitted, jiggling madly on the spot. “I really, really need to let it out.”
James knew Ethan was teasing him, but the tease worked. James was starting to stiffen. “You can wait.”
Ethan continued to wait, fidgeting and bouncing and crossing his legs. Holding himself and whimpering and pleading for the relief he needed. James could not take his eyes off the desperate man, he was too alluring this way… Too cute, too needy…
“James!” Ethan cried out, doubled over and doing every pee-dance move he could manage. “I have to go! I can’t wait! Please, please, please?! Is it time yet?!”
James felt blood pumping madly through his heart, and… other… areas. “Go,” he breathed out.
Ethan could have cried with relief at that word. Finally! He could just relax and let it all come flowing out…
Except, when he let go of his crotch to prompt his stream to commence gushing, nothing happened. His bladder remained full, like it had a plug wedged inside its opening. Ethan began to bounce on his toes madly again, feeling utterly confused. How could he need to pee so horrifically and yet not be able to let it out?
He understood that his body was likely confused as well. He was, after all, requesting that it go against a lifetime of conditioning and willingly dump the contents of his bladder all down his legs, but still! He’d been fighting SO hard NOT to pee his pants a few moments ago, surely now that he was trying TO do it, it should just happen, right?
He knew also that sometimes a person could get a little ‘frozen up’ when it was time to urinate. Ethan had had that happen a few times in his life. He could recall a particularly awful experience involving that, where he’d been cramming for a college exam all night, chugging coffee to keep from falling asleep. When the sun rose and it was time to head down to take the test, he didn’t stop at the restroom in his dorm and came to regret it by the time he reached the building his class was in with both hands wedged between his wobbling legs. He rushed as fast as he could to the restroom and unzipped at a urinal.
Then, just as Ethan’s stream was about to blast out of him, the professor that was to be administering the exam came into the room. And took the urinal right next to Ethan. And asked him if he was ready for the test. Needless to say, Ethan’s anxiety spiked tremendously, the walls of his brain closed in on themselves, and his bladder, as full as it was, failed to void. So, he’d just been left standing there awkwardly beside his professor with his dick in his hands, dancing from foot to foot with an insanity-inducing need to urinate, and not peeing out a drop. Once the professor had finally left, Ethan’s body remembered how to function and his bladder basically just exploded as a long, long jet of liquid poured forth.
While Ethan knew he was not experiencing a bout of pee-shyness in front of James, someone he peed in front of all the time, the feeling he was having now was similar. An intense desire to unclench and relax that his body responded to by tightening itself up more and more. He whimpered, so uncomfortable, so full of need, so eager to just let it all gush out of him.
James realized Ethan was having some trouble. “If you’re not ready, you can go use the toilet,” he said.
“No, I want to do this for you,” Ethan said. “I just… This is stupid, but I don’t think I can figure out how?”
James came closer to him then, “It must be hard to make yourself do this, huh?”
Ethan nodded, trembling with urgency. “I have to go so bad, James…”
“I know…” James said. He remembered the time in the elevator, how he’d held Ethan, kissed him and rubbed his back as he lost control of himself. He put his arms around him now. “And that’s okay, you can go.”
Ethan took a deep breath and told his body to do exactly that, but it still refused.
James kissed him, feeling him wriggle and squirm in his arms. “Awww, does Ethan have to tinkle?”
“Yes,” Ethan said. “He does.”
“Ethan has to go pee SO badly, doesn’t he?” James continued. “His bladder is just so full!” he reached down and stroked a hand over the round curve in Ethan’s midsection, feeling him shudder at the touch. “Oh wow, this feels like it’s ready to burst!” James commented. “No room left in here at all, is there?”
Ethan shook his head. “Have to go…”
“Wouldn’t Ethan feel so good if he just relaxed?” James said, still stroking Ethan’s throbbing bladder. “He should really give his poor bladder a break, get rid of all this swelling.”
Ethan writhed, “I’m trying!”
“Come on, Ethan,” James said. “Let me feel it emptying.”
A drip.
Then a trickle.
Then a gush.
Then a furious stream.
Ethan’s bladder cracked wide open, spilling its contents down his legs. “Hahhhhh…” Ethan moaned. “Finally!” An ocean was pouring out of him, his bladder shrinking and deflating more and more by the second. James could actually feel the way Ethan’s skin stopped straining, stopped stretching itself out beneath his hand. Ethan’s head drooped forward, resting itself on James’s shoulder. “Ahhhhhh…”
James moved his hand away from Ethan’s bladder to rub his back, enjoying the way the tension seemed to just be sliding off of it. “All better…” he said. “Relax now… That’s good. What a good job you’re doing!”
Ethan felt warmer than he ever had in his life. And not just because he was wetting his pants. “I— I did good?” he asked into the material of James’s sleeve.
“Yes, you’re doing so good,” James said. “Such a good boy, letting it all out.”
Ethan shuddered against James, his pee continuing to flow in a never-ending stream of relief and heat. “Th—Thank you,” he said.
“Good boy, good Ethan…” James kept up the litany of praise as Ethan gasped and panted and peed and peed and peed. “Very good boy.”
After over two minutes, the hissing and gushing came to an end. Ethan was soaked. James was soaked since they’d been cuddled so close. The plastic garbage bags on the floor were soaked. Ethan’s bladder though, was finally dry.
“Good boy,” James said once more, stroking Ethan’s back as he gave one final shudder. “Such a good boy!”
Ethan felt so many things then. He felt the damp, clammy coldness encasing his now very hard member, he felt the pleasant pulsing of a freshly emptied bladder, he felt the warmth of James’s body against his own, and he felt a NEED to hear James praise him and KEEP praising him. He had no idea why, but the words ‘good boy’ were suddenly the most beautiful words to ever exist in Ethan’s mind, every time James said them, Ethan felt his wet pants growing tighter.
James kissed Ethan, “Great job,” he said. “Did you like that?”
Ethan nodded. He did like it. He liked it very much. |
Ethan currently had the worst cold in the history of colds. He’d known he was coming down with something for a few days, but had forced himself to ignore the slightly off-kilter sensations in his chest and sinuses, put that discomfort aside and just focus on his work. James had told him over and over again that taking a day off every once in a while wasn’t going to harm anything, that Ethan needed to rest up or else his mild sinus troubles could evolve into something far worse.
Ethan really should have listened to James.
Now, he was so sick and wiped out that he couldn’t get out of bed without assistance. He fought to breathe. He couldn’t do it at all through his nose, it was so stuffed up, a fact that confused him since snot was almost constantly pouring from it. He thought that with how often he was having to wipe beneath his nose to clean all that up, the stuff that was making it so congested would be going away. But, that wasn’t what was happening. Breathing through his mouth wasn’t much better; his chest hurt like crazy when he inhaled, and his throat burned when he exhaled. Keeping his mouth open all the time was also drying it out, thank goodness James had been bringing him warm tea, otherwise Ethan was certain he’d look like a snot covered raisin by now.
The worst part of his illness though, was that Ethan had lost his voice. And, apparently Ethan’s ‘I’m-so-sick-I-want-to-die’ face and his ‘Dear-God-I-have-to-pee-so-bad’ face just looked too similar to each other. James had failed to catch onto the fact that Ethan felt like he was about three minutes away from peeing his pants.
If Ethan weren’t buried under all the blankets James had tucked him into, then James would surely be able to tell how much Ethan needed to use the restroom. Beneath the blankets, Ethan’s legs were tangled, and his hands were gripping onto himself. If Ethan had the strength to sit up and move the blankets by himself, he’d do that and James would know right away what he needed. But, Ethan didn’t have that much strength, trying to sit up even slightly had made his head spin and had caused fuzzy, dark spots to appear in the corners of his eyes.
James was sitting in the rocking chair, reading comics to himself, an activity that Ethan knew he could become absorbed in for hours if not interrupted. It was, unfortunately, very hard to get a person’s attention when you couldn’t vocalize anything, his throat was so utterly wrecked by this virus that even trying to moan or whimper didn’t produce any sound.
But, well, he could still cough… Dear God, could he still cough! He’d been up almost half of the previous night doing exactly that!
He coughed now, to try and get James’s attention. James did look up at him, but then his gaze returned to his comic. Of course it did; Ethan was sick, so James wouldn’t assume that a cough was meant to grab his attention.
Ethan forced himself to cough several more times. Doing this was murder on his poor bladder. Each time he hacked, the walls of his bladder would jolt and squeeze, trying to force out all the liquid. His double-handed grip on himself tightened, and his legs scissored themselves impatiently.
Finally, James came over, “Are you okay, Ethan?” he asked in a panic. “Need more tea? Need—“
Ethan shook his head violently. Please, no more liquids!
“Do you need anything?”
Ethan nodded as fast as he could, ignoring the dizziness that this action quickly filled him with.
“What do you need? I’ll get it for you!”
Ethan grit his teeth, bit his lip. James tilted his head. “Does your mouth hurt? Is that—“
Ethan shook his head again.
“What is it? Did Timmy fall down the well? Haha!”
Ethan narrowed his eyes, grit his teeth some more.
“Sorry… Not in the mood to laugh right now, huh?”
Ethan shook his head. He managed to squirm one of his hands free from the blankets, he crossed his middle finger over his index one, and pointed them downwards; a gesture which he hoped resembled a pair of tightly crossed legs.
“Hm?” James asked, confused. He frowned, “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I’m really trying to understand you! Do you think you can… Oh, let me get your phone, and you can text me instead!” He decided, running off to find Ethan’s phone.
Ethan grimaced. He hoped James hurried. He already felt like he was on borrowed time, and since James had covered him up with every blanket they owned, if he had an accident there would be a lot of stuff that needed to be washed. He kept one hand above the blankets, and squeezed himself with the other. One hand was having to do the work of two, and he was already so weak with the illness that he couldn’t get too tight a grip.
James did return quickly, and opened the messaging app for Ethan, who punched in a single letter as fast as he could.
James took out his own phone and looked at the message. “P?” he read aloud. “…Oh, you have to…”
Ethan nodded so fast it made him feel like he was going to throw up.
“Sorry,” James said. “I’ll help you! And, I promise I meant what I said about trying to understand you! I know I like seeing you desperate and all, but I wouldn’t make you hold it when you don’t want to, especially not if you’re sick! That would be cruel, and I’d never—“
James was interrupted by his phone dinging with a new message;
‘NOW.’
James smiled and blushed, “Right, sorry,” he said once more. “Think you can handle walking there? Or, do you want me to try and find you a container instead? Give me one finger for walking, and two for a container.”
Ethan held up one finger. He wasn’t looking forward to having to move his snot-ridden body around, but knew that it would get him the relief he needed a lot sooner than James would be able to find a suitable container.
“Okay,” James said. “Lemme help you up…” He pulled back Ethan’s covers and instantly his vision was drawn to his partner’s knotted up legs, and the way his hand was wedged between his trembling thighs. The realization of how big an emergency Ethan was having made his heart ache; He should have paid better attention. He was a terrible caregiver! “I think maybe I should give you a signal to use when you need the restroom,” James said as he helped Ethan unsteadily to his feet. James wasn’t sure if the unsteadiness came from his desperation or his sickness, but either explanation made him feel just terrible for poor Ethan. “Like, that hand thing you were trying to use?”
Ethan held up his crossed fingers again.
“Yeah, that,” James said. “Now that I know that it means you have to pee, just keep using that until you get your voice back again. I’m really sorry for not understanding, I feel awful. I didn’t mean for—“
Ethan started to tap his foot in a somewhat exaggerated way, and his second hand joined his other one over his crotch. James could pretty much guess what that meant; “Hurry up, James! I don’t have time for this, I gotta go!”
“Sorry,” James apologized once more. He put an arm around Ethan’s shoulders and started to lead him out the bedroom and down the hall. Ethan felt liquid start to bead at his tip the closer they got to the restroom. He began to worry that this brief walk was going to be more than his exhausted, ill and completely full body could handle. The hallway seemed to distort itself in his vision, and it spun a million miles per hour. If James weren’t guiding him, he probably would have run face first into a wall by now.
James eased open the door to the restroom and Ethan started to feel a little better; At least one of his ailments was going to be alleviated soon.
“Now, can you stay standing up?”
Even now that he’d stopped walking, the dizzying, tilting of his surroundings hadn’t ceased. He shook his head.
“Okay,” James said. “Might take a few more seconds, then, but I promise you’ll be going in just a second…”
That was exactly what Ethan was afraid of. As James tugged down his pajama pants, Ethan clenched his pelvic muscles as tight as he could. The last thing he wanted to do was lose control and inadvertently drench James in his pee. Still, despite all his clenching and fighting, a spurt soaked into his boxers.
James noticed his partner’s boxers darken ever so slightly, and pretended he hadn’t seen it as he yanked them down his hips. There was a small droplet of clear liquid hanging off the edge of his member. James had known Ethan was hanging on by a thread, but that made it all the more obvious. He hurriedly guided Ethan to the toilet he needed and helped him sit down. Ethan was going full force before he’d been fully seated, but even still it had trickled into the bowl rather than onto the seat or floor.
As Ethan heard his pee begin to trickle and hiss into the bowl beneath him, he smiled for the first time since his cold had begun kicking his ass. This was the first sensation he’d experienced in several days that wasn’t either painful, nauseating or both. It was nothing but perfect goodness in its purest sense. He exhaled hard through his mouth, and a tiny bit of color actually made its way back into his pale face.
“Feeling a little better now?” James asked.
Ethan shut his eyes softly and allowed his smile to grow, and his tongue to loll out of his mouth.
“Aw, that’s good,” James said. “Sounds like you really had to go.”
Ethan nodded.
“Poor thing… Now, you have a way to tell me what you need, so you won’t have to hold it like that again, I promise.”
Ethan finished up his pee and stood, James helped him redress and get back into bed, where he immediately entered another coughing fit— For real this time. James pressed his lips to the top of Ethan’s head and promised to get him some more tea. Ethan smiled once more, no longer needing to worry about where the tea would end up; James would understand him now, voice or no voice. |
James loved seeing Ethan desperate to pee. His little dances, the way his eyes scrunched shut, the pink cheeks and nervous breathing… It was all so adorable! And then, when Ethan finally got to go, it was even cuter. He looked so delectably relaxed and so very at ease. It was so rare for Ethan not to look stressed out, so seeing his features all go slack, seeing his body shudder and his shoulders droop… It was a beautiful sight.
But, James would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous of Ethan’s capacity. Ethan could pee and pee for nearly two minutes with no interruptions in his stream. His bladder was clearly enormous, capable of stretching itself to contain immeasurable quantities.
James’s bladder on the other hand… It was small. It always had been. Part of why he’d gotten so interested in the peeing habits of other’s was just because everyone around him seemed to have better control over that than he did. James had never made it through a drive that was more than one hour long without a pee stop. James had never gotten through a long movie without having to get up partway through. In high school, he had to go between every single class and would often find himself fidgeting at his desk and watching the clock anyway. In college, he’d even had a few accidents— None of which had involved alcohol which could have made them more understandable.
When he began working for Ethan, he was worried his new boss would scold him for the amount of times he needed a restroom break, but Ethan never did. And now that they were together, Ethan never got irritated by the amount of stops James needed on long drives.
Still, James wanted to know what it was like to pee out as much as Ethan could. He wanted to be able to hold that stunning amount of liquid inside his own body, just to know how it felt. James had held it for fun a lot of times, sometimes with Ethan at his side these days. His holding challenges had helped him get slightly better control, but still he couldn’t hold much. His bladder was the size of a pea, but he wanted one the size of a bucket like Ethan’s.
He decided he needed a real challenge. He was certain that his true limit was further beyond than where he usually stopped holding it at. He needed something to push him as far as he could go.
So, when Ethan proposed they go to a museum in the next town over, James decided that he wouldn’t ask for a pee stop at all during the drive—Not even if Ethan stopped because he had to go. That, James was sure, would give his bladder the workout it needed to get stronger. And, it would be lots of fun, too!
When the day of the big drive came, James woke bursting for his morning pee even worse than he usually was. He hadn’t woken up during the night to go like he did most of the time, so his bladder was screaming to be released. He dashed for the restroom and flung open the door. Ethan was at the sink brushing his teeth. “Gotta go, Ethan!” James said, lowering his pajama bottoms a bit and lifting the seat of the toilet.
Ethan smiled and shook his head, “You could have knocked…”
“No time, it was an emergency!” James stressed, and judging by the powerful jet of pee striking the water in the toilet, he hadn’t exaggerated a bit.
“I know,” Ethan chuckled. “You’re always in a big rush in the morning. You don’t need coffee like I do, your bladder wakes you right up!”
James blushed. He hoped that today would change that a little. He didn’t like having to make a mad scramble to the toilet every morning. Still, the steady shrinking he felt in his abdomen was a wonderful sensation. As he neared the end of his pee, he pushed as hard as he could, trying to ensure he got out every last drop. This would be his last pee for several hours.
James pulled his pajamas back up and returned to the bedroom to change. “All better?” Ethan asked him as he removed his own shirt.
“Uh-huh,” James said. But, his nerves about his self-imposed challenge were making him feel as though he already had to go again!
Once they were dressed and Ethan had had his coffee, he asked if James was ready to go.
“Umm…” James considered. Maybe he should pee one more time first? He didn’t think he’d get much out, but surely it would be a good thing to do anyway? “Yeah.”
They got on the road, and James tried not to think about peeing. He didn’t even have to go yet, but it was still the topic at the forefront of his mind. Even as Ethan talked about the exhibits he was wanting to see at the museum, James couldn’t concentrate on his words. All he could think about was the challenge and how nervous it made him.
They drove and drove, and it wasn’t long before James’s bladder announced itself with authority. Usually, he’d be asking Ethan for a stop by now, but he didn’t want to. His holding muscles were like all the other muscles in his body; they wouldn’t get strong if he didn’t give them a proper workout. So, instead of telling Ethan he needed to go, he crossed his legs as casually as he could manage and tried to forget about his need.
He ignored the confused pang from his bladder as they passed a gas station and he didn’t open his mouth to suggest a stop. He gritted his teeth as they drove over a bridge and he could see rippling lake-water beneath it. He clamped his jaw closed to avoid whimpering as they went through a particularly bumpy part of the road.
“You’re unusually quiet,” Ethan said. “Normally, you talk my ear off the whole time we’re driving.”
“I guess I’m just kinda tired today,” James said nervously.
Ethan frowned. “Was something bothering you last night?”
“No,” James said. “I’m just still sleepy.”
“I could stop somewhere and get you a coffee,” Ethan offered. Normally, he wouldn’t dream of giving his hyperactive partner even a tiny bit of caffeine, but he didn’t want James to fall asleep in the museum. “Would that help?”
“N—No!” James answered, perhaps a little too fast. He didn’t need more liquid, and he most definitely didn’t need a diuretic. “I just need some more time to wake up, that’s all.”
“Okay,” Ethan said. But, speaking of coffee, the ones he’d had before they’d left home had settled themselves pretty uncomfortably in his bladder. He thought he should probably pull over somewhere soon, anyway. He began looking for a place to stop. James probably needed it, too; If Ethan was starting to get uncomfortable, surely James’s teeth must have been floating.
James’s teeth were definitely floating. Swimming, almost. He felt like every last bit of room in his body was crammed full of liquid. He tightened his legs around one another, and hoped they were nearly there. He started to exhale when Ethan pulled the car off the main road, certain that meant they were close.
But, Ethan had stopped at a gas station, not a museum. “What are we doing here?” James asked, trying to keep the whine from his voice.
“Had a little too much coffee,” Ethan admitted sheepishly. “And, I’m sure you could use a break around now, too.”
James felt a blush spread across his face. “Wha—What do you mean? I’m fine.”
“Really?” Ethan asked, surprised.
“Don’t sound so shocked, Ethan,” James said, trying to keep the urgency from appearing in his voice.
Perhaps, Ethan thought, the holding games he and James played at home had strengthened his small bladder a bit? But, James certainly looked like he had to pee right now. Ethan had become very acquainted with how James looked when he was desperate, and was positive he could recognize the signs by now. That pink flush to his face, the way he sucked in his cheeks, and the tightly crossed state of his legs… “You look a little uncomfortable…” Ethan commented.
“Just… Um… Need to stretch my legs,” James said. “Been sitting here for too long!”
Ethan gave him an odd look. He was positive that James needed to pee, and couldn’t figure out why in the world he wouldn’t just go. He knew it wasn’t because James was too disgusted by gas station toilets to use them, as he’d seen James use them many times before. And, he’d never known James to be shy about anything, especially not with him, so that couldn’t have been it, either.
Maybe he was having fun holding it? Was that it? Ethan understood James often enjoyed the sensation of a full bladder, but this was a tad risky. They weren’t at home, if something were to go wrong and James didn’t make it… The car’s seat would get wet, and James wouldn’t have anything to change into.
“You can go get some snacks then if you want, I guess,” Ethan said after a long pause. His own bladder had begun to throb with far more intensity now that he was close to a restroom. He’d try and figure out what was up with James once he had a clearer head.
The restroom at the gas station was even grosser than Ethan had been worried it would be. When he unzipped, he realized that he was unbelievably grateful to be able to pee standing up because he didn’t want any part of his body to have to come into contact with the filthy toilet; It looked as though many of the restroom’s previous occupants had “missed”. And not just with pee, either.
As he drained his bladder, he was unable to stop thinking about how James was obviously dying to trade places with him right now. He thought back over James’s behavior, and zeroed in on how embarrassed his partner seemed to get when Ethan mentioned how sure he was that James would also need a stop, and how defensive he’d gotten when insisting that he didn’t.
Maybe James’s small bladder was causing him to feel inadequate? Was that what this was about?
Perhaps it was. Ethan finished his pee and zipped up, and while he washed his hands he tried to think of what to do. He didn’t want James to push himself too far with this, whatever it was. But, he also didn’t want to offend James by telling him the jig was up and demanding he go pee before he had an accident.
As he exited the restroom and returned to the car where James was waiting, he’d thought he’d come up with a pretty good way to convince him to go. “Ahhh,” Ethan breathed exaggeratedly. “That was close!” It hadn’t been, really. He’d definitely needed to pee, but it hadn’t even approached becoming a true emergency. “Almost didn’t make it…” He turned to James. “Wow, you still don’t have to go?” he asked. “All that holding you’ve been doing at home must be paying off, you’re starting to be able to outlast me some of the time!”
James processed Ethan’s words as he scissored his legs and tried not to hold himself. In his mind, he was still being subtle with his desperation, but to anyone else he was doing a quintessential example of a pee-dance. “Y—Yeah,” James stumbled over his words, struggling to force them out past the raspy breaths that kept getting caught in his throat. Maybe it was okay to go now? Maybe he’d proven himself already?
But, no. If he didn’t try to last all the way to the museum, he’d never know if he could or not. He had to keep waiting. He wasn’t only trying to prove to Ethan that his bladder was strong, he was trying to prove it to himself as well.
After a few more seconds had passed without James admitting to his need and rushing from the car to handle it, Ethan asked; “You’re ready to go now?”
“Yes!” James exclaimed. The sooner they got back on the road, the sooner they’d get to the museum. And the sooner they got to the museum, the sooner James could pee! Every second they remained parked here was just another extra moment James had to contain his bladder.
“O—Okay,” Ethan said, beginning to drive once more. His eyes would continually flick over to James every time they stopped at a traffic light. James was whimpering and bouncing frantically in his seat, and Ethan realized he could even see a tender, swollen bump in James’s middle when his shirt began to ride up on him.
Ethan had seen this bump in his own body before, but never in James’s. He’d never seen James hold so much that the fullness of his bladder became visible. He’d never seen James’s abdomen distend as he fought to restrain his liquids. Ethan drove as fast as he was legally allowed to, hoping that they could reach their destination before James exploded, and that he’d actually use the toilet once they got there.
“Hurry…” James began to moan under his breath. “Hurry, hurry, ohhh, hurry up!”
“James…?”
“Huh?” James’s head snapped to face Ethan. He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud… His bladder was quivering and shaking, and he pressed both hands into his groin as he began to dribble furiously into his boxers.
“Um… Are you okay?” Ethan asked.
“F-Fine!” James insisted. “How much further?”
“We’re very close,” Ethan promised. “Fifteen more minutes or so. We’ll be there soon.”
James tried to take steadying breaths, told himself that surely that would be soon enough. His bladder was thrashing, frantic with insane need, the dribbles kept coming and with each second they seemed to make louder and louder threats of their intent to turn into a real stream. A cold sweat had begun to roll down his back as he realized this had been a bad idea. An awful idea. A terrible idea. The worst idea in the history of ideas. He felt like he was going to have an accident; A real, full blown accident, right here in the car.
He twisted his legs back and forth, trying to find a way to sit that didn’t cause his seatbelt to compress his distended bladder. He had to hold it. He just had to hold it. He kept shifting restlessly, pinching his eyes shut, whimpering in the back of his throat and clenching his exhausted sphincters with all his might as his hands dug deeper and deeper against his dick.
Ethan knew exactly what the problem was, and reached over to pat James’s thigh. “We’ll be there soon, okay? I promise. It will be alright. You are… Um… Feeling carsick? Hungry?”
“Nnnh, I don’t know!” James replied, shaking his head frantically. “I just— I need us to be there now!”
“I’ll help you,” Ethan promised. “We’re nearly there, and you’ll feel better.”
After a few more turns, they made it to their destination. Ethan parked the car as close to the building as he could. He hoped the restroom would be close to the entrance. He hoped James would use it. “We’re here,” Ethan announced. “You made it!”
James sucked in a sharp breath, then hissed the air out through his teeth. He’d made it. He’d made it. He’d made it! A quick glance to the clock told him it had been over four hours since his last pee; Four hours! He’d never held it four hours before!
When he released his seatbelt from the vice-grip it had had over his bloated middle, it felt like he’d entered Heaven. When he tried to stand up and get out of the car, it felt like he plunged straight into Hell. He clutched his cock tighter and tighter as he felt a stream begin to ripple down his leg. He was peeing! “Nnnh! Ethan!” James whimpered. “I— I have to pee really bad all of the sudden! Please, find me somewhere!?”
If ‘all of the sudden’ meant ‘for the past four hours’, then James would be telling the truth. Still, Ethan didn’t call him on it. “It’s okay, James,” Ethan promised. “I’ll help you.” He helped James steady himself and walk inside as fast as his quivering legs and drippy bladder would allow. Once in the entryway, Ethan’s eyes darted all around, until they fell on a door with a blue stickman. While he drug James in that direction he hoped that either the restrooms could be used before a person bought their ticket, or at the least that no one saw them heading over there before purchasing one.
But, they were stopped by an employee just as they got within a few feet of the door. “Hey, the restrooms are for customers.”
Ethan didn’t really want to do what he did next, but he badly wanted to rescue James from at least a little of the embarrassment. So, he began holding himself as well. It felt strange to grip onto his crotch and dance in place when he didn’t actually feel any real need to pee. “W—We’re going to buy tickets afterwards, I promise. Just— We had such a long drive coming out here, it’s an emergency. I’m really sorry.”
She gave him a somewhat sympathetic look. “Okay,” she said. “Just, if anyone asks, tell them I made you buy your tickets first.”
James jiggled in place, unable to thank the woman. Unable to make his mouth work anymore.
“Th—Thank you,” Ethan sighed out. “You have no idea how much you’re helping us.”
A split second later, James was pushing his way past Ethan and shoving through the door with his shoulder, both hands still clutching his cock that had completely refused to stop dribbling. Ethan followed him, worried that he’d lose it in the last few seconds.
But, in the split second it took Ethan to open the door to the restroom and step inside, James had somehow managed to already unzip his pants and begin hosing down the first urinal he’d seen. As Ethan set foot into the room, his ears were overcome by the thunderous splashing of liquid against porcelain, and the loudest moan Ethan had ever heard.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….!”
Ethan gave his own sigh of relief. James had made it. Thank goodness. But… Ethan glanced around the room a few more seconds, thankful that it seemed to be empty of any other people. He found himself feeling rather protective of James in that moment; He didn’t want anyone else to hear his moaning, those sounds were for him, no one else.
“That feel good?” Ethan asked.
James just moaned again, slightly softer than the first time. ‘Good’ was an extreme understatement. It felt like he was having the best orgasm of his life, and that it was just going on and on and on.
He’d made it that whole drive, he really had! He’d done it! He really could hold it for longer periods when he really tried. It wasn’t easy, but he was capable of it after all.
“Wow…” Ethan said after about a minute had passed. “I’ve… Never seen that much come out of you before. Almost done?”
James took a few seconds to assess how he was feeling. His bladder still felt full and stretched. He didn’t think he’d be finished for quite a bit. “I really, really had to go…” he said.
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious…”
James’s stream finally began to dwindle, and after a few more seconds, he was at last all dried out. He’d been counting seconds in his head, and he’d almost surpassed the two minute mark! He was stunned that he’d managed to do that. He’d known he’d needed to go unfathomably badly, but never would have imagined he could actually hold such an immense quantity.
He turned around to Ethan, “Ahhh, all better!” he said.
Ethan smiled. He wanted to scold James, to demand to know why he’d done that to himself… But, that relaxed look on his face, and the beaming grin he gave… It was so adorable that Ethan couldn’t find it in him to be upset. |
As the movie finally concluded and the credits began to scroll across the massive screen, James shot to his feet like his chair had suddenly caught fire. He looked at the massive drink that had been resting in his cupholder through the whole show and cursed himself for drinking the whole thing when he knew how quickly soda moved through him.
He’d expected having to take a pee-break during the film and assumed that apart from missing a few minutes of the story, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Sure enough, about halfway through, he was squirming and wriggling all over the place, and decided it was time to take care of his need. He’d walked to the restrooms as briskly as he could and already felt a bit relieved when he saw the sign pointing him in their direction. He rushed that way as fast as he could, envisioning himself bursting through the door, unzipping at the urinal, and letting his body do what it needed to do without any reservation.
That fantasy was cruelly torn from his grasp when he noticed the door to the men’s room was held open by a large yellow wagon filled with cleaning supplies, and next to that was a triangular plastic sign designating that the room had been closed for cleaning.
James bounced in place and clenched his thighs tightly together, struggling to regain control after his bladder had been teased by the idea of imminent relief. To know that he’d been so close to a toilet only to have his access to it denied at the last second made his urgency multiply. He’d needed to double over and squeeze his cock as he rocked in place and begged his body not to give up the battle. “E—Excuse me?” he said softly, looking over the wagon. “Will this be long?”
“I just got started,” a disgruntled woman replied to him. “Gonna be a while.”
A soft whine shook through James’s throat. He didn’t have ‘a while’. He was certain he was going to flood his pants if he didn’t have a urinal in front of him very soon. “Nnnh… Could you wait a minute and let me go first? I promise I’ll be fast!”
“Not happening,” the woman sighed. “I’m not gonna spend my shift in here smelling what you do in one of the toilets.”
“I just have to pee!” James begged.
“I’m not cleaning a urinal that you literally just used.”
“I— It’s an emergency, ma’am! I’m really sorry, I just—“
“I don’t care. Hold it like an adult, or go find somewhere else. This isn’t my problem.”
James ground his teeth together as twinges and pulses flamed through his abdomen. He wished Ethan had come out here with him. Ethan didn’t allow people to speak to James that way or treat him poorly. Ethan would know the right combination of words to use to get James into that room before he exploded.
Perhaps her second suggestion was a better option? He could leave the theater and go out into the main area of the shopping mall. Surely, he’d find another restroom there. But… Ethan was waiting for him back where he’d been sitting… And, he’d already been gone too long. Ethan would worry, and it wasn’t as though James could text him and explain where he’d gone…
So, that was why James had ended up holding it in until the end of the movie. That was why he’d spent the last half unable to concentrate on any of the plot, and barely able to hear any of the dialogue. That was why, when Ethan had reached over to grab his hand, he’d whimpered because he’d wished he could keep it clamped around his cock.
But, at last, the movie was over, and as Ethan stood up beside James, James blurted out; “I have to pee so bad!!” And, now that the lights were on, Ethan didn’t exactly need to be told that. James was half doubled over on himself, his fingers desperately pinching his opening shut and his legs coiled up on one another.
“You could have gone a second time,” Ethan started to say. “I would have told you what you missed while you were—“
“I didn’t even go the first time!” James said. “The restroom was closed for cleaning, and she wouldn’t let me go even though I told her it was an emergency!”
Ethan bit the inside of his cheek, his gaze flicked down to the enormous cup James had drained early on in the movie, and knew that this wasn’t good. He wanted to ask James why in the world he hadn’t just looked for a different restroom, but it was obvious there wasn’t any time to waste on discussion. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “They should be done cleaning it by now.” He put an arm around James’s shoulders and led him from the theater, and down the hall to the restrooms.
The same sign was there. It was still closed. James gave a loud anguished moan as he scrambled in place. The gravity of standing up and walking after sitting for so long had caused the pressure he was under to almost triple. “Ooooooh,” he whined. “I have to tinkle soooo much!”
“Okay,” Ethan said, trying to keep the worry from his own voice. “It’s okay. This is a big mall, I’ll find you somewhere else to go. I promise.”
“I can’t hold it,” James whimpered. He could not unstick his hands from his crotch, could not stop stomping his feet, could not stop shifting his hips.
“You can,” Ethan said. “I’ll find you somewhere. You’ll make it.” He led James through the theater as quickly as he dared, and then they were in the main mall. Earlier in the day, James had been babbling and pointing out shop displays that interested him.
But now, apart from whimpers and moans, James was silent. All he could think about was the tight, painful bump in the center of his body.
Ethan looked all around their immediate vicinity, seeing no signs designating a restroom. Nor did he see a map display that could help point them in the right direction.
James bobbed up and down, “Ethan!” he exclaimed. “I—Ahhh!” he cried out in surprise as a long, long, long spurt of urine began to trickle down his leg. “I’m going!”
Ethan wished James would speak a little softer, but even if his partner had been whispering, his body language was obvious enough that anyone who saw him would be under no illusions as to what he was experiencing.
Ethan rubbed James’s trembling, tense shoulders. “You’ll make it. You can make it,” he kept repeating. “Let’s… Let’s try this way…” he started to lead James off in a random direction, already having decided that he was going to just dive into the first store he saw and demand an employee tell him where he could find a restroom.
James tried to follow him, but every time one of his feet struck the ground, another spurt drooled its way into his clothing. They weren’t small spurts, either. They were huge. He could hear them hissing into the material of his boxers, and the fabric encasing his length had become alarmingly damp. He couldn’t make the dribbles and leaks stop coming, either. They were constant.
Already, a dark patch had begun to form over the crotch of his white pants, spreading down his legs and dripping around his ankles. No matter what Ethan had said, James was most definitely not making it. The best he could hope for now was to minimize the size of his accident, to get as much of his urine into a toilet as he could.
Ethan barged into a store, leaving James waiting just outside it. Before the cashier could say a word, Ethan was talking at her; “Where is the closest restroom?”
“Oh…” She said. “I don’t know. I just started working here.”
“Is there anyone here who would know!?” Ethan demanded, annoyed.
“Just me,” She informed. “Sorry.”
Frustrated, Ethan turned on his heel and stormed out.
“Soon?” James pleaded, his eyes big and watery on his face.
“Yes, soon,” Ethan said. “I just… I need to find a map or something. Then, you can go.”
James whimpered, he’d already started going several minutes ago, just nowhere near as much as he needed to.
James kept dancing, knowing the timer in his body was dangerously close to hitting zero. His hands were slick with wetness now, his clutching wasn’t doing anything to impede his pee anymore. Still, he tried to follow Ethan, hoping that his partner would lead him to relief.
It felt like hours were passing, but James knew that realistically it had only been two minutes at most since Ethan had angrily exited that store.
Ethan suddenly gripped James’s wrist, which had been firmly pressing itself into his crotch. “Found it!” Ethan said breathlessly, gesturing out to a couple doors tucked away between two stores. James’s eyes settled themselves onto the blue symbol affixed to one of them.
At most, it was only half a minute away from where James was currently hobbling. He felt a strange combination of dazed and frantic as he tried to pick up his pace, tried to make it that last little bit, tried to tell himself he could hold the rest of his urine inside his bladder until he finally got himself to the correct place.
Another pulse shot through his abdomen, and it activated something akin to a fight or flight response in his mind; He tried to break into a run.
That was a mistake.
Attempting to increase his pace caused the most intense spasm through his body that he’d ever felt in his life. He heard more hissing, felt more heat pooling in his clothes around his cock. He kept trying. Just a few more steps, please!
But, he couldn’t take those few last steps.
He froze stock-still, as all his leaky spurts joined together to form a massive, cascading waterfall of a stream. The hissing intensified, and seemed implausibly loud to his ears. He felt the warm jet soaking him thoroughly, one of his pant legs was so drenched it felt like he’d tripped and fallen into a lake. The heavy, soggy sensation grew and grew as his body succumbed to his need; His sphincters forgetting their purpose, and his bladder tearing itself open. A puddle began to form beneath his feet, spreading out across the linoleum floor.
He felt tears start to come to his eyes as he realized that he’d lost, completely. He just kept staring at the door to the restroom as his body forcibly performed a task that could have been completed correctly had he just been able to handle a few extra steps.
As his stream started to fade away, the tears did not. He sniffed harshly, as he allowed them to fall down his cheeks. He kept standing there, almost in shock, for a few seconds after he’d finished. He turned around, wanting to run away somewhere and hide, but found Ethan had come to stand right behind him, shooting everyone who passed by them and stared a look that should have left them six feet under. And, instead of running, James collapsed against Ethan and let himself cry, burying his face in his partner’s shoulder, clinging to him and apologizing over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ve embarrassed you! I’m so sorry!”
Ethan rubbed his back and shushed him, “Shhhh… You did not,” he promised. “I’m sorry. I promised to find you somewhere to go in time, and I didn’t.”
James sniffled, rubbing his teary face against Ethan’s shoulder, “You tried your best…”
“And you did, too,” Ethan assured. “You fought that as hard as you could, it’s okay.”
James pulled back with one more choked, sobbing sound. “I just— It was too much,” he whimpered. “I needed to go so bad, and it hurt, and I couldn’t—“
“It’s okay,” Ethan repeated. “Go wait in the restroom for a minute, I’ll go buy you some pants to change into from one of the stores. Everything will be alright.”
James wiped beneath his eyes, “Th—Thank you…” he said quietly.
“Look at it this way; That cleaning lady who wouldn’t let you use the restroom? Well, now she has to mop up the mess she caused.”
James cracked a smile, “That’s not very nice, Ethan.”
“Well, neither is she.”
“Heh…” |
Ethan had never needed to worry about wetting the bed when he was a child. But, that was before the nightmares had started, back before he was mugged. Before then, he’d only had the occasional bad dream about being chased down by wild animals, or falling from a great height. The sorts of bad dreams everyone got from time to time, and typically didn’t result in soggy sheets and wet pajamas.
After he was mugged, and everything that had surrounded it, things changed. When he had a bad dream, it wasn’t something wholly invented by his imagination, but instead a point by point recreation of an event that had actually taken place. Sometimes, during his dreams, his brain was aware that the event he was reliving was supposed to be over, that he wasn’t supposed to be in that place anymore. But, even as these thoughts filtered through his dream-world, he could not wake himself up and make it stop.
And, often, he’d wake up with a pounding heart to find he’d relieved his bladder all over himself. James was kind to him about it, assuring him that it happened sometimes; James had wet the bed a lot growing up, and occasionally even as an adult. But, James’s words didn’t help much. Just… After going his entire childhood with nothing but dry nights— Never any need for rubber sheets, absorbent underpants or alarms— Ethan found it remarkably shameful that he’d suddenly develop this problem well into adulthood.
He tried the usual suggestions; Cutting off fluids after a certain point in the evening, making sure he emptied his bladder before crawling into bed, and even setting an alarm so he’d wake up partway through the night to go again. But, those things didn’t work; His problem was not physiological, there was nothing wrong with his bladder or the muscles that controlled it, it was not filling up too much in the night. Ethan’s problem was completely psychological; He knew it must have been when, following another horrid nightmare, he’d woken up wet again, but there had been so little urine actually in his bladder that it had barely managed to soak all the way through his pajamas.
Having less water at dinner, making sure his bladder was dry as a bone before bed, and trying to wake himself up at night would not fix the issue. Because, he was only wetting himself out of terror of something that now only existed within his own mind. The only thing the ‘methods’ helped to ensure was that, if he did have a nightmare, the resulting mess would be a little smaller.
James had bought some pads for Ethan to sleep on top of, and Ethan hated the crinkly feeling of them underneath him as he tried to fall asleep. He hated how the boxes they came in were all geared towards either really small children, or the elderly. He hated that he had to cart around memories in his brain that caused him to lose control of his body.
James comforted him after every nightmare, after every accident; “It’s okay, Ethan,” James would say softly. “It’s over now, you’re safe here with me. And, I don’t care that the bed’s wet, you just got scared, and it’s okay. You’re okay.”
Ethan would fight down tears of frustration every time he yanked the sheets from the bed, every time he stripped off his sodden pajamas. Even James’s kind words failed to make him feel that much better.
One night, James was woken by Ethan’s thrashing. James was a light sleeper, it didn’t take much to get him up… But, the way Ethan was tossing and turning like a tornado, his brow scrunched and fists clenched, it would have woken up anyone. James knew that he must have been having a particularly awful nightmare this time, as usually he didn’t flail.
James didn’t know if it was okay to wake someone in the middle of a nightmare, but he wanted to offer Ethan some comfort, so flung an arm around his partner’s floundering body. Ethan was shuddering and trembling, and felt cool to the touch. “Shhh…” James whispered softly, hoping to break through to the horrific dreamworld Ethan was stuck inside of.
Ethan began to go a little stiller, he pushed himself into James, and his eyes began to crack open… Then, flew wide while a hand reached down to grip his member. As he adjusted to the waking world, he’d realized that his bladder was in the process of emptying. His hand managed to stem the tide, but he was unsure how long that would last. Cutting himself off mid-flow had made his holding muscles start burning.
“Bad dream?” James asked.
“Nnnh, yes,” Ethan whimpered. His thighs flexed, squeezing around his clutching hand. The thing about needing to pee really badly was that it made a person wake up fast. “I think you got me up just in time…” He pulled himself into a sitting position, and his other hand quickly joined the first. He even tried to push his foot up against his crotch as he sat cross-legged in the bed. He needed to get to the restroom, but he couldn’t see a thing. “James, I need my glasses!”
“They’re right next to you, silly,” James started to say. “Just—“
“I can’t move my hands!” Ethan admitted.
James smiled softly. If circumstances were different, if Ethan wasn’t dealing with trauma induced night-terrors and bedwetting, he would have found the fact that his partner couldn’t let go of his leaky cock for two seconds to get his own glasses ridiculously cute.
James stood and came around to the other side of the bed, picked the glasses off the nightstand and slid them onto Ethan’s pink face. He was chewing his lip, eyes scrunched tightly shut… And… Well, circumstances be damned, he just looked adorable as Hell.
“Thank you!” Ethan said graciously, gingerly getting to his feet and stumbling from the room. He continued to feel drips of liquid pulse into his palms, but was determined not to have a full-blown accident now that he’d actually woken up in time to prevent it for once. Finally at the toilet, he ignored the fiddly button of his pajama pants and just yanked them down instead. The garment pooled around his ankles as a hissing spray of liquid erupted from Ethan’s tip and splashed into the toilet. Jeez, that was so much better… He sighed quietly through his nose as he tried to catch his breath.
Once he was emptied and had pulled his pants back up, he sighed again. But, not with relief or elation. Sure, he’d been able to avoid a wet bed this time, but what about the next? James wouldn’t be able to wake up and figure out Ethan was in the midst of a nightmare every time it happened. And, it was not as though he could expect James to just never, ever sleep and instead stay up and watch Ethan for signs of distress. Ethan knew that, no matter what, he would never be freed from his newfound nocturnal issues.
The next morning, James wanted to discuss it once more. Ethan was fed up with ‘discussing’ it. He knew there was no longer anything to discuss. Nothing would fix this. But then, James mentioned; “When I started to hold you while you were still asleep, your body and face looked a lot more relaxed. I don’t really know how dreams work—“
“Nobody really does,” Ethan said. “In fact, we’re not even totally sure why people have dreams at all. It’s kind of fascina—“
“BUT,” James cut in. “Maybe there’s a chance that being able to feel me touching you helps you feel safe, like, subconsciously?”
“I don’t know,” Ethan said. “Like I told you, very little is known about dreams and what the brain actually does while the body is asleep. Maybe my subconscious mind can recognize your touch, and maybe it can’t. But what does this have to do with my… Um… ‘Problem’?”
“I was just thinking that, since you only have that ‘problem’ because you’re getting scared, then that means all you need to make it stop is to feel less scared, right?”
“Yes,” Ethan said. “But, even if people don’t understand dreams, we do know that it’s incredibly difficult to control them. Some do have the ability to lucid dream— That’s when you are aware that you’re asleep and can command what happens like you’re directing a film—“
James sighed, “Come on, Ethan… You don’t have to go all ‘professor’ on me, I wasn’t telling you to try and control your dreams. All I meant was that if me holding you made you less scared last night, maybe it will keep working?”
“So, you’re suggesting you… What, spoon with me all night every night?” Ethan laughed.
“You say that like it’s gonna be a chore,” James snorted. “I’d spoon with you 24/7 if it wouldn’t make it hard to walk around.”
Ethan blushed. No matter how long he and James had been together, he still couldn’t believe that there existed a person that could love him so much. “I guess we could try that. But, if it doesn’t work and I still end up… And we’re that close together, then—“
“I won’t care,” James said. “Remember the time we were stuck in the elevator, and I just hugged you while you had an accident?”
Ethan looked away, totally red in the face.
“I didn’t mind it then,” James said. “And, I won’t mind it if it happens again. But, I really think this will help.”
That night, they tried it. James put his arms around Ethan and cuddled him so close it looked as though he were trying to fuse their bodies together. The two drifted off to sleep like that, and when morning came, Ethan was dry.
James celebrated, certain that meant this had worked. But, then Ethan said that he hadn’t had a bad dream to start with, so it was too soon to know for sure. The next few nights, Ethan’s dreams were free of terror as well. “Maybe me holding you is stopping you from having nightmares at all!” James suggested.
Ethan hoped that was true, but doubted it.
About a week into the experiment, Ethan finally did have a nightmare. In his dream, he was reliving one of the worst things that had ever happened to him, he felt terror seizing his veins and adrenaline pumping through his body. But, in some part of his brain, some distant, quiet part of it, he felt a strange sense of comfort…
When he woke up, his heart was pounding like it always did after a bad dream. He quickly felt between his legs, finding the area… Totally dry! James’s eyes cracked open when he felt Ethan moving around. “Did you have a—“
“I did have a nightmare,” Ethan admitted. “But, I didn’t ‘go’. I think you were right; This does work.”
James beamed, “Yay!” he exclaimed, and he pulled Ethan back against his body. “I hope it keeps working! I hated seeing you so stressed and upset about all the accidents— Even when I kept saying they were nothing to be ashamed of. But, I mean, I get it. It’s real embarrassing to do it when you’re older, especially if—“
“James,” Ethan whimpered, shimmying his hips a little. Since he hadn’t peed at any point during his nightmare, his bladder was still containing everything that had accumulated since the previous night.
James just kept babbling and squeezing onto him. “And, now that I know how to make you feel safe, I bet you’ll never have that happen ever again! But, if it does, try not to feel bad, it’s really okay, but—“
“James!” Ethan said once more, louder this time.
“What is it?”
“I have to go!” Ethan said, wriggling in James’s grasp.
James paused, and realized that he needed the restroom pretty badly as well. “Oh,” he laughed. “Sorry… Let’s go pee, then.”
After an incredibly relieving pee—Not just because he’d needed to let it out badly, but because he’d managed to keep it inside of himself all night long— Ethan gave James an overdue hug. “Thank you,” he said. “I think you really did find the answer…” |
“What are some other times where you had to go really bad?” James asked.
Ethan smiled and looked away. Ever since he’d learned of his partner’s interest in desperation, he’d recounted quite a few of the occasions during which he’d been caught short. He’d told James about having an accident during a long car drive, barely making it home when the restroom at a movie theater had been out of order, and one particularly humiliating instance of desperation at an airport. He’d told James many, many stories, and James had witnessed Ethan in urgent situations first-hand several times, yet he never tired of hearing more of them.
“Okay,” Ethan said. “I was kind of silly in this one, but here goes.”
He proceeded to tell James about when he’d first moved into his dorm room in college. The whole floor shared one restroom, and it had been weird waking up in the middle of the night to go, and have to put on shoes so his feet wouldn’t get dirty if someone happened to have ‘missed’ at one of the urinals. It was a bit of a hassle, and it was so hard to go back to sleep afterwards; The lights in the restroom were so bright, and messing with his shoes would wake him up too much.
So, his second night in the dorm, when he woke to a slight thrumming in his bladder, he just turned over and tried to go back to sleep. He’d handle his need in the morning, he told himself. But, when morning came it was apparent that everyone on his floor had chosen to do the same thing. Even if mens’ room lines were generally rather quick, Ethan was scared about being late during his very first week of classes. So, rather than joining the line, he just took off in the direction of his class. He’d heard that a professor could make or break a student’s chances at passing at a class if they disliked them for any reason, and tardiness could easily provide such a reason.
There was no way Ethan would risk getting off on the wrong foot with one of his instructors. And, in high school, if he’d ever been late all of his classmates would turn and stare at him and it would just be so embarrassing.
Ethan was independent now; He lived on his own. He was an adult. And, an adult would never allow themselves to be late to something important purely because they wanted to empty their bladder. He would go later.
He held onto that idea up until the moment he sat down in his first class. The cold, hard fist of reality clenched itself around his bladder. He didn’t just want to empty his bladder, he NEEDED to. ‘Okay,’ he told himself. ‘This is fine.’ He’d started classes in high school with a bit of an urge to pee, and he’d always been able to hold it until break.
He knew this lecture was going to be much longer than any of his classes in high school had been, but that was no big deal. He could still wait it out. But, uncomfortable memories began to surface for him; Memories of times where he’d bolted down the halls of his high school, a hand already at his zip so that he could easily yank it down the instant he’d gotten to a urinal.
But, he reminded himself, while all those incidents had been deeply unpleasant, none of them had ever ended with an accident. And… Why was he thinking about having an accident, anyway? He. Was. An. Adult. Adults did not have accidents, especially not so soon after leaving their mothers’ homes for the first time. He knew he was gonna have to learn how to do his own laundry in the coming days, but he really hoped that this didn’t end up being the reason for his first attempt.
As the professor began the class, Ethan crossed his legs at the ankles and rubbed them against one another. He had severely underestimated exactly how badly he already needed to go; As hard as he tried to focus on the professor, his mind became filled instead with plans of escape.
Like a moron, even though the room was huge he’d decided to take a seat right in the front. He couldn’t just sneak out without the professor noticing. He knew from high school that he needed to get permission from his instructor before he could leave the room and find a place where he could vacate his poor, throbbing bladder.
He wasn’t about to interrupt the professor while he was speaking, though. He’d wait for a break in the man’s speech, then request a pass to use the restroom. He only had to hold it until then, and he’d be as apologetic about the situation as he could be.
Partway through the class, Ethan was folded over in his seat, his hands digging into his crotch. Every time he moved his body even just the slightest bit, waves of boiling need would slosh viciously through his abdomen. This was a mistake. This was an enormous mistake. He should have taken his chances with being late if it would have saved him from having to restrain such a vast ocean within his poor, quivering body.
His mind kept replaying memories to him, memories of how good peeing felt. It was like his brain had put on an endless clipshow of every pee he’d ever taken in his life, trying to remind him of how wonderful the feeling was. But, he’d always crash back down into the burning, throbbing pain in his midsection.
And, the professor still hadn’t paused for even a second! He’d been talking the whole time, with no break, no chance for Ethan to ask for permission. And, Ethan was unsure that, if the professor ever did stop talking for a moment, if he’d be able to move either of his hands away from his crotch long enough to raise it.
A cold sweat broke out all down his neck as he imagined what it would be like to pee his pants right in the front row. If he’d been worried that a little lateness would cause his professor to hate him, what would pissing all over one of the chairs do? He could see it so clearly, one of the tyrannical throbs constantly pounding through his bladder would pulse just slightly more strongly than he could handle. Liquid would trickle from his tip in an uncontrollable spray. It would begin pooling over his thighs, spreading out beneath him to coat the chair. Then, it would all be trickling down his legs, spurting to the floor with an absolutely deafening hiss that commanded the full attention of everyone around him. Ethan would forever be known as the guy who’d had an accident during his first week of college, without a single drop of alcohol even being involved.
The images were so vivid and intense that chills of fear went up his spine, and he clutched himself as hard as could. He gripped his poor member so tightly it started to hurt, his eyes clenched shut, his teeth dug into his lip as he tried to just focus on holding it in and breathing. He couldn’t comprehend anything more than that. He probably wouldn’t even be able to tell someone what his name was anymore. If someone asked, instead of answering, all he’d be capable of saying would be “I HAVE TO PEE!”
He couldn’t take it anymore! He exerted as much pressure from one of his hands as he could manage and shakily brought the other one upwards as it twitched and spasmed with need.
The professor noticed him quickly, at least that was one good thing about being in the front row. “Yes, what is—“
“May I please use the restroom!?” Ethan choked out around the tight bands of pressure in his body. “I’m terribly sorry, I just—I’m bursting, and—“
“This isn’t high school,” the professor interrupted. “And you’re an adult. You don’t have to ask, you can just go.”
He… Hadn’t even needed to ask. All that time spent suffering and working up the nerve to interrupt, and it had all been pointless. Why hadn’t anyone explained that at orientation? Shouldn’t they have realized that, after years of being conditioned to ask for a toilet pass when in a classroom, that new students would just naturally assume the same thing still applied here?
There was a bit of chuckling from some of his classmates, and Ethan felt like his skin was made of fire. Okay, so maybe there was a chance now he wouldn’t be known as the guy who pissed himself at college, but he would definitely be known as the one that told a lecture hall full of people that he was gonna explode.
He forced himself out of his seat, and had to walk almost entirely doubled over to the door. He couldn’t stand up straight if his very life depended on it. The ball of tension in his core was spasming with new vigor each step he took.
It was not easy for poor Ethan to walk down the halls with his legs crossed, and when he realized that with this being his first week and everything, he had no clue where the toilets were situated, he felt his panic grow. He began to mutter to himself, without even realizing he was doing so; “Ohhh, I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it!” He finally registered that he’d spoken out loud when he noticed a passerby staring at him. She was an older woman and he blushed and silenced himself once he’d noticed her gaze.
“Hey,” she said. “You’re… Looking for a restroom?”
“Yes,” Ethan whimpered out. “Please, tell me you know where one is?” He’d never felt so embarrassed. These were supposed to be his first few moments of independence, but instead he was doing an incredibly vocal pee-dance and begging some woman he didn’t even know for directions to a toilet.
“Turn left at the end of this hall, then right at the end of the next, and the restrooms will be on the left about halfway down.”
Ethan could barely huff out a delirious sounding “Thanks,” before rushing as quickly as he dared in the indicated direction. “Hold it,” he mumbled to himself. “Hold it, just hold it!” When he saw the door for the mens’ room, he almost shed a tear. Almost there. He could make it. He was already working his zip as he pushed the door open with his shoulder.
The sinks were directly across from the door, and for a blisteringly needy second he nearly just ran to one of them to unleash his flood. A few more shaky, hobbling steps, however, and he was able to locate the urinals he needed. He didn’t think he’d ever moved so quickly in his life, but even so he still ended up gushing a bit into the palms of his hands before he’d actually reached the correct place.
Once it registered that he was stood at a urinal, that his zip was down and that he was aimed properly, the little dribbles gave way to a torrential deluge of liquid relief, so powerful that it tore a visceral moan from his lips. “Ohhhhhhhh…” He blushed at the noise, but he couldn’t control his mouth any better than he could control his bladder. His holding muscles were just so exhausted after the marathon of abuse he’d put them through, as they finally slackened and his urine sprayed unabated, he felt like he’d fall over from the sheer pleasure of it all.
Once the onslaught of piss came to a startlingly abrupt halt, Ethan gave one more push to make sure he was actually empty before zipping up and trying to catch his breath. He felt so much lighter he wouldn’t have been surprised if he was suddenly able to float through the air.
Still, the embarrassment remained with him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to see that woman again after all of that…
“So, that’s how I almost pissed my pants right after I started college,” Ethan concluded.
“Aw,” James said. “I wish I could have been there. I bet you were so cute squirming around at your desk like that… Did you ever see that woman again?”
Ethan nodded and looked away; “Unfortunately, she turned out to be one of my professors.”
James laughed, “Oh no. Was that awkward?”
“For a bit,” Ethan said. “I was in her class later that same day, and she… Kinda asked me if I’d found the restroom okay and if I was feeling better. So, that was a little embarrassing.”
“Oh, she probably just thought you were cute,” James said. “I don’t think anyone could ever see you dancing around like that and NOT find it adorable.” |
“Ethan,” James said from Ethan’s side. Both his hands were pressed against his crotch as he crossed his legs back and forth. “I have to tinkle so bad.”
Ethan blushed at James’s word choice. Normally he found it cute when his partner said he needed to ‘tinkle’, but not right now. It was reminding Ethan that he currently had to do the same thing very, VERY urgently. He’d wondered before what it would feel like to be out of his mind desperate while James felt the exact same way, and now he knew. He just wished it had happened somewhere that he had a little more control over the situation. “I know,” Ethan said. “Try to hold on a bit longer though, okay?”
“Okay,” James whimpered, his fingers were trying so hard to pinch his pee-hole closed, but he’d already leaked several times.
Ethan’s heart was clenching as tight as his straining pelvic muscles were. He wished he could pick James up and carry him to a toilet, unzip him and allow him to get the relief he needed. He wished he could hold James in his arms as he shuddered with relief, rubbing his stomach and telling him he did such a good job holding it and everything was okay now… He wished he could do all those things even more than he wished that HE could visit a toilet right now himself.
But, he couldn’t. He couldn’t do any of it.
James had insisted going to a ski lodge would be a great time. And, for a while it had been okay. Ethan had zero idea of how to ski, but he’d only gotten a little scraped up from all his falls. Nothing bad. And, eventually he got the hang of it a little better. He’d started to have fun then…
He wasn’t having fun now.
The ski lift they were on was stuck. They were way, way too high up to jump down without sustaining serious injuries. It was freezing. They’d been waiting for over an hour for the thing to start moving again. And they both had to pee like crazy.
James had been the first to suggest they just unzip and go over the edge, letting it flow into the snow so far beneath them. But, there was a security camera mounted on the pole just a little ahead of them, and it was pointed their way. Ethan didn’t really want to whip it out for some bored security guard to see, and once Ethan pointed the camera out to him, James didn’t want to either.
After more time had passed, and the five hot coffees Ethan had had to stave off the frigid temperatures began to demand to return to the world of the living, Ethan suggested throwing their skis at the stupid camera to break it. Then they could pee unmonitored. He’d said it half jokingly then, but now after an hour of constantly building discomfort, he actually really wanted to try doing that.
Ethan felt like he was currently holding back three times as much water as what currently existed on planet Earth. And the icy cold wind smacking him in the face was making him shudder, making his bladder contract with need. All of his shivering was causing the walls of his bladder to vibrate and forcing the urine inside it to press with more and more vigor against his trembling sphincter. “H—How much trouble would we get into if we break the stupid camera?”
“W—We can’t, Ethan,” James said. His voice was wobbling as his throat constricted. He hadn’t drank five coffees like Ethan had, but his small bladder didn’t like to go un-emptied for such long stretches of time regardless. “We’d have to pay for it, pr—probably, and— Ooooh, I hafta go!” James jiggled in his place. He was squirming so hard it was making the lift swing, which wasn’t very good for a person that was afraid of heights like Ethan.
Ethan didn’t tell James to stop, though. He knew that, realistically, James couldn’t stop. If he stopped moving, he’d pee his pants. But, every time the seat was jostled, every time Ethan felt it sway, or heard it squeak, icy fear pumped through his veins. And, on one of those occasions, he was startled badly enough to let a spurt of pee loose into his boxers. “Hnnn!”
“A—Are you okay?” James asked
“L—Leaked some,” Ethan admitted through his gritted teeth. At least, if this had to have happened, it was with James. Anyone else would tease him, or be disgusted by him, or a whole host of other bad reactions. But, James thought Ethan desperate to pee was one of the best versions of Ethan that existed.
“I’m s—sorry,” James said, and in spite of his own unfathomable desperation, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Ethan and the way his hands were kneading against his crotch. “I hope it’s fixed soon…” James whimpered a second later. “I… tinkled a little bit…” he informed.
“How bad do you need to go?” Ethan asked. “Scale of one to ten?”
“Nine,” James said.
Ethan winced, another spurt of pee involuntarily squeezing its way out of his body. He closed his eyes tight and squeezed his pelvic muscles with extreme force. He could feel moisture coating his thighs. “I think I’m about the same,” he said. Another spasm coursed through him at the admission, his bladder demanding to empty itself, Ethan fighting to keep it under control for a bit longer.
“We’re not gonna make it…” James whimpered out. He felt warmth flowing into his snow-pants as he tried to keep his hands pressed against his cock. It was just so difficult to get a decent grip through the thick material, especially since he was wearing gloves. “Are you sure th—the camera would even have a good view of our… stuff if we do it here?”
Ethan didn’t know. He just knew that he didn’t want to risk it. What if this counted as indecent exposure and they got in trouble? Another feeble whimper emanated past Ethan’s teeth as he explained his concerns.
“Th—They should understand that it’s an emergency,” James reasoned, his voice trembling.
Ethan thought that they really should, but he didn’t want to risk getting into legal trouble. He didn’t want an arrest record that said ‘Exposed himself to take a piss over the edge of a ski lift.’
“Oooh!” James squeaked with his eyes shut tight. “It’s a ten now!”
Ethan responded with a frustrated groan that quickly changed into a needy whine.
“I’m sorry, Ethan,” James said, every nerve in his abdomen tingling like electricity was running through him.
“It’s okay, I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad at… this,” Ethan said, tilting his head slightly to indicate the ski lift, his hands were too busy trying to turn themselves into makeshift corks between his legs. “And, yeah, a ten sounds about right…” he added softly.
“Can we just do it?” James asked.
“What!?” Ethan asked, wondering if he’d understood the other right.
“We’re not gonna make it,” James said. “Can we just go?”
“James, we can’t,” Ethan said. “The camera. Indecent exposu—“
“I meant… You know… Without any exposure…” James said.
“No,” Ethan protested, his hands still clamped around his cock as best as they could through all the layers of fabric he had on. “This lift doesn’t belong to us, we can’t make a mess of—“
“It’s metal, it will wipe off okay,” James said, his voice cracking with need. “E—Even if you don’t go here, I’m going to. I don’t even want to, I just—“ His voice began to tremble, his eyes stinging with tears. “I can’t hold it… I have to go pee so bad.”
Despite Ethan’s protestations, he knew James was right. He too was losing the battle against his bladder. He knew he’d only be able to hold onto his liquids for another five minutes at best, before his muscles gave up and he flooded the lift anyway. The pain in James’s tone also made Ethan’s heart ache. He didn’t want to put him through this any longer… “But, people will see. When we’re going back to the lodge, they’ll see we’re wet…”
James continued to cry, his hands wedged between his thighs in desperation. “I know,” he said. Even with his vision blurry, he could see the blush and the worry present on Ethan’s face. “But, at least if we both wet ourselves, neither of us will be alone, right?”
“That’s… That’s true,” Ethan agreed with a shaky voice. “But, could you watch me while I… While I go?”
“What?” James asked.
“It would make this a whole lot easier for me.”
“It would?” James asked in shock.
“Yes, instead of feeling like I’m just having an accident, I’ll feel like I’m doing something for— Nnnnh!” Ethan winced again, his sphincters reaching the absolute limits of their strength holding back his urine. “Something for you!”
His teeth grinding together and his legs twisting with urgency, James nodded, “Okay. I’d—I’d love to watch!”
“Thank you,” Ethan said, releasing his hands from the death grip they’d had on his dick. “Watch me, then. I can’t hold it anymore.”
James took his hands out from between his legs, his bladder instantly spurting into his pants. He felt the warmth pooling between his thighs, heard it hissing loudly into his snow-pants. “Phew,” James exhaled. He took Ethan’s hand. “I’m tinkling, you can start whenever you feel like it.”
James’s touch on his hand sent a little thrill down Ethan’s spine. He was starting to actually feel a little excited by the situation. It wasn’t easy to go against years of conditioning and actively tell himself to pee into his clothes, but knowing that James didn’t find this even the least bit repulsive made him feel much better. Ethan breathed out gently and bore down on his pelvic muscles the tiniest bit.
That was all it took. All of his muscles began to tingle as they gave into relaxation, a jet of long held urine soaking into his pants. “Ahhhhh,” Ethan sighed out as immense relief overtook him. The sound of his pee hissing away joined the noise of James’s doing the same. Even with as thick as Ethan’s snow-pants were, they soon began to darken at the crotch, the stain spreading out across his thighs.
“Heh,” James giggled a little, the action causing his own flow to speed up and build in intensity. “You’re so cute…” He leaned in and gave Ethan a kiss as both of their bladders continued draining away.
Ethan felt so much warmer now, not just from the urine spreading outwards beneath him, but from James’s gentle hand and even softer lips. He murmured a relieved groan into James’s mouth while his pee kept gushing and gushing from his body. Ethan felt tingles of heat and pleasure rushing through his veins; He didn’t know if he’d ever felt anything better than this. The intense, all consuming relief of emptying his bladder after containing it for such a long time, the warmth flowing all around him, James’s caresses and kisses, and the knowledge that he was putting on such a wonderful show for him, all combined to form an incredible feeling within Ethan’s body.
James finished peeing a few seconds later, his abdomen now wonderfully flat and no longer throbbing with painful urgency. He sighed into Ethan’s mouth, continuing to kiss him, moving to rub his partner’s back as well. He pulled back for a second and asked; “All done?”
“Not yet,” Ethan admitted, breathless from the relief and from what James was doing to him. “I really, really had to go…”
James drew closer to snuggle against Ethan, now able to hear the hiss of his pee even more clearly. “I’ll say… Poor thing,” he nuzzled his head into Ethan’s chest. “You had to go real, real bad…”
Ethan stroked a hand against James’s side. “Ahhhh…” he sighed again, an intense shiver causing his body to shake as he let out the tail-end of his stream. “I’m finished. Thank you. You made me feel a lot better…”
“Heh, you’re welcome…” James smiled. “As soon as we can get off of this thing, we can go change.”
Ethan nodded. His pee had cooled off very quickly in the cold air and it was now a little uncomfortable to keep sitting in it. “Hopefully that doesn’t take too l—“
There was a loud noise and the lift began to move once more.
Ethan’s brows crinkled in dismay. “Oh, come on! Why couldn’t it have done that two minutes ago!?”
James sighed, “Well, look at it like this; We can get changed right away at least…” |
Kenneth is from another of my fics (Guard, which you can find here.), although I don't consider this scene "canon" to that fic since these are set in different time periods. I just needed someone to use for this plot and Kenneth was the best fit. And, hey, you're finally getting to see what Ethan's job is!
***
Ethan set aside his stack of papers and stood from his desk. His bladder had been nagging him for the past hour and a half, but he’d just been so busy he hadn’t had any time to empty it. He still had things to sort through, but his need was now so very prescient that his work was just gonna have to wait until after he’d emptied his bladder.
James watched his partner abruptly shoot to his feet and tried not to giggle at how cute he found the whole thing. He’d noticed Ethan tapping his feet quite a bit for at least the last hour, that adorable, subtle pee dance he always did when he was forcing himself to put his work ahead of his needs.
Ethan was a couple steps from the restroom when the door to his practice opened. It was the patient he was supposed to see for his next appointment. A very small, thin man who looked as though he didn’t really want to be there. He was accompanied by another man whom was whispering something into his ear.
It wasn’t uncommon for new patients to be reluctant about coming. Seeking therapy was unfairly stigmatized, and many viewed it as a personal failing to need help working through a problem. It wasn’t a failing, however. Asking for help was one of the strongest things a person could do, and Ethan would be sure to emphasize that to his new client. “O—Oh,” he said. “You are here early…” However, a look at the clock told him that the patient wasn’t actually early; Ethan had merely gotten so caught up in his tasks he’d failed to notice how much time had gone by. Just like how he’d failed to notice how full his bladder had gotten. “Strike that,” he said. “You’re right on time.” Even though his bladder was yelling at him to let it empty first, Ethan had a schedule to keep. “We can get started now, come back into the office.”
The man followed Ethan into the room. Ethan flicked on the fan that he used to help muffle the sound of his voice and that of his patient. He sat down in his chair and fought down a wince as his bladder was compressed by his belt. “So, you are Kenneth Paulson?” he asked.
“…Yes,” the man replied, looking down at his fingernails. It was so obvious he would rather be anywhere else. “And I’m only here because my par— Uh, friend wants me to talk to you about this… This really stupid thing. It’s not even a big deal.”
Ethan caught Kenneth’s little slip. The way he’d come so close to saying ‘partner’ only to correct it to ‘friend’ at the last second. That was something Ethan had experience with; Firsthand experience, at that. He too had spent years feeling ashamed of his sexual orientation, trying to change it, and thinking he was broken because of it. If that was what had brought Kenneth here, then Ethan felt confident he could help. Even if he was struggling to hold in his bladder the whole session…
“What is this thing?” Ethan asked. “Do you feel alright telling me?” Sometimes, a new patient wouldn’t say much of anything for the first few sessions, they needed time to get comfortable with Ethan and with the environment, they needed time to know that this was a safe place.
“It’s… Um…” Kenneth stammered. “It’s… Really, really, really dumb. You’re gonna laugh.”
“I don’t judge,” Ethan said. He crossed his legs, then quickly re-crossed them in the other direction. Wow. He REALLY had to pee… It was almost shocking how full he was. “I’m here to help you.”
“O—Okay,” Kenneth said. “It’s… It’s not a big deal, it’s just… Dwight says it’s bad for my health and stuff, and I… I just…” He trailed off and stopped speaking once more.
Ethan was a little more concerned now. The last time a patient had come to him because a loved one thought they had a problem that was damaging their health, the patient had been struggling with a very serious drug addiction. Addiction was a little bit more than Ethan could help with through talk-therapy, he’d needed to find the patient a specialized treatment center to get them back on their feet. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “You can tell me.”
“It’s… I mean… I… I have this thing,” Kenneth said. “When I… need to…” He mumbled something.
“Hm?”
“When I need to… Um… To… urinate…” Kenneth said softly. “It… It doesn’t… I can’t… ItJustWon’tComeOut…” he rushed through in one breath.
Ethan paused, shifting his hips. That was sounding more like a job for a MEDICAL doctor… Unless… “And, it is not an actual ‘blockage’, correct? You have never been diagnosed with a urethral stricture, no kidney stones, no—“
“No…” Kenneth said. “It’s… When I’m alone, then there’s no problem.”
Ethan pressed his thighs together as a pang of need rippled through him. “Ah,” he said. “So, when there are others around you while you are attempting to relieve yourself, what are you feeling?”
“I… Kind of nervous, I guess,” Kenneth said. “It won’t come out, and I know that they can tell. And, I know that if it DOES ever actually come out, they’ll hear it, and I just… It’s embarrassing.”
“Paruresis,” Ethan said. A couple of his past patients had suffered from it as well. And, while this was perhaps the LAST issue he wanted to discuss while nursing an uncomfortably full bladder, it was at least something that he already knew a bit about. “Or shy-bladder. It’s common. I have experience with it.”
Kenneth nodded, but didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yeah, I knew that was what it was called, I just… It’s embarrassing. It’s just peeing. I should be able to just… Do it. Everybody else, they just… Unzip and it all flows out, right? It’s easy for them, it just happens.”
Ethan tapped his feet, feeling a surge of liquid slamming into his sphincters, reminding him of how, for him, what Kenneth was saying was true. He did just need to unzip and let it flow out. And, if he didn’t do that soon, it really would ‘just happen’. He lowered his clipboard for a second so it concealed his lap. One hand crept over to rest against his inner thigh. “It is actually extremely common,” he said. “Paruresis is one of the most common forms of social anxiety behind the fear of public speaking. You are not alone in your problem, but I understand how it may feel that way to you.”
Kenneth nodded. “It… Does,” he admitted. “There have been all these times where I’m around other people, and they’re all able to go, but I just can’t do it. And, I end up… I end up… Uh… Really wanting to. It gets… urgent. And painful. And I can’t think of anything else. It… Hurts. I need to do… this ‘thing’ so badly, and I can’t, and the need gets worse and worse until it’s enough to make me want to scream.”
Ethan flinched at Kenneth’s embarrassed, stammering diatribe. Even with as awkwardly as Kenneth was phrasing things, his words were just evocative enough to make Ethan’s bladder swell and pinch. “That must be… difficult for you,” he said. “To have to endure that so often. How many times have you had an incident like this?”
Kenneth’s face turned bright red, “I… I don’t know. So many times. It’s just a part of what it feels like to be alive.”
Ethan’s heart clenched, and his bladder along with it. The idea of viewing painful levels of desperation as just a basic fact of life sounded like torture to Ethan. He remembered all the times he’d been caught short and found himself bursting with no way to relieve himself (Up to and including the dilemma he was in the midst of right now), and shuddered to think of having to feel that way every day of his life. “Do you remember any inciting incidents for this? Did you have frequent accidents as a child? Were you ever bullied while using the restroom? Did—“
“My… My Father,” Kenneth said. “He was— He was odd.”
“Are you comfortable telling me in what ways?”
“He was kind of… Er… I mean… I— I know that my Father was abusive, but I just don’t really know what parts were normal, and what parts weren’t,” he confessed.
Ethan kicked his feet out in front of himself, then drew them back in beneath his chair while he jiggled a little bit in place. “That’s common for victims of child abuse,” he said. “But, no part of an abusive relationship can ever truly be called ‘normal’ or ‘healthy’. Even moments where your Father may have shown you kindness would not have been examples of healthy, normal parenting because he would have swept the rug out from under you not long after. You would not have been able to feel secure or form a bond to your Father even during times when he was not violent with you, because he’d already shown himself to be a person whom you could not trust. Do you understand?”
“I… I guess,” Kenneth said.
“Did your Father punish you when you had accidents as a child?”
“Sort of…” Kenneth said. “It kind of started when I… I saw my Father do something really bad when I was seven. He didn’t want me to tell anybody, so he took out this old wooden box that padlocks shut, and he put me into that, and he wouldn’t let me out for a week He’d open it once a day to give me water, or to burn me and stuff. But, he wouldn’t let me out when I had to pee. And, I promise, I really tried to hold it, I tried so hard but I just couldn’t.”
Ethan flinched at the story as he wrote down the details. The self-blame Kenneth was expressing would definitely need to be addressed at some point.
“But, after that week, Father was really mad at me for… For peeing on myself so much, and so he said that I needed to be housebroken—“
“He used that exact word?”
“Yes,” Kenneth confirmed. “He said I had to be housebroken and taught to behave like a civilized human. So, when I had to pee, I had to get his permission. And a lot of the time he wouldn’t let me, and I’d keep trying to hold it, but I’d wet myself instead. When he did say I could go, he’d go in there with me to supervise, and he’d be yelling at me and pulling on my hair and all this stuff, and I wouldn’t be able to go because he was scaring me. He’d get mad at me if I couldn’t go, so he’d beat me until I wet myself for wasting his time, and… And so the only ways I could ever pee were if Father was asleep and I could sneak to the toilet, or if I had an empty bottle and he was far enough away from me. I guess that probably has something to do with my… Um… My problem?”
Ethan squeezed his thighs together, his bladder seemed to be throbbing out of pure sympathy now. He didn’t know where Kenneth’s father was (hopefully the man was just dead), but maybe that was a good thing, since otherwise Ethan may have found himself in jail for murder. There was nothing Ethan hated more than people who hurt children. Every day, he worked with people whom had been victimized during their childhoods in horrible ways and now struggled to cope with life as the smallest things could dredge up memories of their trauma.
“Yes,” he told Kenneth. “What your Father did to you was very wrong, it has definitely left you traumatized, and one of the ways that trauma has manifested for you is with your Paruresis.” This was going to make Kenneth’s treatment plan a little different than Ethan’s previous shy-bladder’d patients’ had been. For them, he’d used simple gradual exposure therapy, having them become comfortable in more private public toilets and working themselves up to more open ones. But, since Kenneth’s troubles were so clearly entrenched within his trauma, that was going to need to be worked through first; Treatment would not work without a solid foundation that addressed the root cause of the problem.
“Is there anyone you are comfortable with having near you while you ‘go’?” he asked. As he said the word ‘go’, his bladder resumed its frenzied spasming. His hand moved from his inner thigh to press against his dick instead.
“Yes,” Kenneth said. “My… My friend Dwight. I can do it in front of him.”
“In front of him?” Ethan repeated. That was very good. He’d been hoping Kenneth merely had a person he didn’t mind having on the other side of the door, but if he could do it with someone else in the room, that was a very good sign that recovery would be possible.
“Yes,” Kenneth confirmed. “This is really embarrassing, but… He kind of… He helps me to go,” he said. “He will rub on my shoulders and say things that make me feel calmer. Or, he’ll talk about waterfalls and oceans, and rainstorms. Or make this sound with his mouth…” Kenneth paused to demonstrate, hissing out through his teeth to create a noise similar to streaming liquid. “Pssssssshhhhh….”
Ethan’s hand pressed more firmly into his groin. He fought to keep the grimace from his face as the noise went directly to his bladder and made it start to loosen against his will. He pressed his legs together as tight as he could, his hand pinned between them as he grew more and more grateful for the clipboard’s cover. Ohhh… He had to go! “I— I am sure that helps…” he managed to grit out.
“It does,” Kenneth confirmed, finally stopping with the all too tantalizing sound effects. “Especially if I… Um… If my urge is more intense. Then, if he makes that noise, it’s kind of like magic, I start going just like that! I guess the only good part of this problem is that, when I manage to, you know, ‘get past it’, it feels really, really good.”
Ethan’s other hand let go of his clipboard, it dove underneath it to join its partner in the effort to hold back his flood. “I… Can imagine so,” he said. “However, it is not good for your physical health to routinely delay the need to urinate to such an extent so often.” His knees were now constantly bouncing, his ankles looped around each other.
“I don’t WANT to do it,” Kenneth said. “I just don’t have a choice.”
“I know,” Ethan said. “Sometimes, everyone has to… restrain themselves longer than would be ideal.” A fact Ethan knew a little TOO well in that moment. “But, to do so as frequently as you have been isn’t good at all. That is what we will be aiming to fix here.” He quivered. Oh. He should not have said ‘aiming’, it made him think way too much about something else he’d rather be ‘aiming’ right about then… “It will not happen overnight, but over time we should hopefully start seeing some improvements. Does that sound good?”
“Ye—” Kenneth paused. “Doctor, are you alright?”
“I—I’m fine,” Ethan said, trying to fight back against a painful throbbing that screamed the exact opposite. ‘Get it together,’ he told himself. 'Focus.' “A—As I said; Paruresis is a very common condition, and it can be managed. You have someone that can help you relax, and… And…” His hand pressed against his crotch once more. “And let go…” A thin jet of urine began to spurt against his thighs. He was able to cut off the flow, but his urethra stung from the effort. “A—And that’s a good step. Y—You should—“
“Doctor… Do you have to… um… Do you need to urinate?” Kenneth asked rather abruptly.
Ethan’s heart started beating rather rapidly and he felt like all the blood in his body was rushing to his face. Another spurt exited his bladder without permission. His patient was NOT supposed to be worrying about HIM, this was all so completely backwards… When he looked down at himself, however, he saw how ridiculous and futile any attempts at denial would be. He hadn’t noticed, but at some point his clipboard had fallen onto the floor, so the double handed grip he’d had over his crotch had been plainly visible. His legs were pretzeled and he was shaking like he’d just jumped into an ice bath in Antarctica. “… Yes,” he replied.
Kenneth laughed quietly. Ethan did like to see his patients happy and smiling, but wished it could have been for a different reason. “A—And I’ve been talking about— Heheheh! I must have been torturing you, right?”
“I wouldn’t say torturing,” Ethan gritted. “I’m… I’m here to help you, no matter what you need to talk about.”
“You can go,” Kenneth said. “I don’t mind, you’ve already made me feel a lot better.”
Ethan wasn’t certain how he’d managed to do that, considering mostly all he’d done was sit there, trying not to piss himself, and listening to his patient talk about piss-holding, piss-related trauma, and how good it feels to piss after waiting for too long.
Maybe simply ‘listening’ had been what Kenneth needed most today, however.
“You’ve paid for a whole hour,” Ethan said. “I have a schedule, let’s finish here.”
“Just go, I don’t mind missing a few minu— Ohhh! You said you have experience with Paruresis, did you mean that you have it, too? Do you need me to wait somewhere further from the restroom for you?”
“No, that’s not it,” Ethan said. He’d frozen up a couple times in his life. Who hadn’t? But, ordinarily there was no problem. Especially not when he needed to go THIS badly. “I just need to keep to my schedule.”
“I told you I don’t mind missing a couple minutes,” Kenneth said. He laughed again. “You look like how Dwight did when we went to this big wedding party and he couldn’t find a toilet…” He snorted. “Or even a potted plant…”
Ethan tried to smile. His patient was happy, he’d apparently done his job well enough in spite of his own discomfort. If it was okay with Kenneth that he take a break, then he should just do it, right? He slowly and carefully rose himself onto his feet and limped for the door. Another jet of piss slicked its way down his leg as he walked.
While he fumbled his way through the main room, he noticed James watching him with a blush, his eyes as big as saucers. Sometimes, Ethan would exaggerate his desperation a little for James’s entertainment, knowing how much his partner liked to see him squirm. But, this time around, there was no exaggeration necessary, he really was about to pop.
Rather embarrassingly, his hands just seemed to work on autopilot and he’d unzipped before he’d even entered his restroom. That was fine, though. It meant that once he was at the urinal, he was ready to go.
And boy did he ever go… Sometimes when he peed he’d trickle a little at the start before he worked himself up into a full stream, but that didn’t happen this time. The instant he allowed his bladder to unclench he was all-out gushing, piss slamming into the porcelain with an ear-drum shattering hiss. “Ah—-Ahhhh—Ahhhhhhhhh….” he exhaled, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes actually started to water, clouding his vision. He was spraying like his very life depended on it, wave after wave of long held liquid flooding from his body and leaving him a weak, shaking mess.
Just as abruptly as his stream had begun, it ceased. He started to tuck himself back away, but was surprised by yet another burst of liquid shooting forth. He hurried to re-correct his aim, and was amazed when this ‘second’ pee lasted nearly half a minute all on its own. Once it had died off to a dribble and finally stopped, he remained standing there, wondering if yet another surprise stream was on its way. After a few seconds, he was reasonably certain he was well and truly empty, and zipped himself back up.
Well. That was a little embarrassing… His face retained its pinkish hue all the way back to his office. He sat down in his seat and picked his clipboard back up before looking at Kenneth, unsure of what to say. “Ahhh…Uh… Well… That’s… That’s better,” he said. “Where were we?” |
Ethan had never been more stressed in his life. His elderly mother, whom had been the only person he could turn to for years after the loss of his father, was not doing well. Physically, she was okay. She was still mobile, her motor functions were fine, she could control her body… But, mentally… Mentally she wasn’t alright at all. Ethan had gone to visit her at her care home a week ago, and one of his worst nightmares came true; She didn’t recognize him. She couldn’t remember who he was.
‘It’s the Dementia,’ he kept telling himself. ‘You KNOW what Dementia is. You KNOW what it does to people. It’s nothing to do with you, or with her. She has not MADE herself forget you. It’s the disease. You KNOW that…’ But, it didn’t hurt any less. Studying the effects of memory disorders, hearing his patients discuss their own experiences having loved ones suffering with them, simply knowing how these conditions functioned… It still hadn’t prepared him for how it would feel to have his own mother look at him and have no idea who he was.
A few days after that, he got a call that there was a flu outbreak at her care home. He knew, of course, how bad the flu could be for someone at an advanced age. Then, the next week, his car started making a strange noise every time he put the turn signal on. When he brought it in to the shop, he learned there WAS a problem and that it wouldn’t be cheap to fix. And a few days after THAT his and James’s washing machine broke down, resulting in him needing to buy a replacement for it.
All of these unwanted expenses poured on top of the anguish he already felt for his mother’s declining mental state. The worries mixed and swirled around in his mind, tossing and turning and creating the most awful stew of anxiety and stress. He was barely sleeping, was barely eating, and had to remind himself to watch TV or read books to try and get himself out of his head for a few minutes.
James could tell how tightly wound Ethan had become. When they lay in bed each night and James turned to cuddle him, Ethan would be so tense it was like he was trying to hug a rock. Ethan would shake and curl up into a little ball, and James knew he was getting very little rest.
He hated seeing Ethan this way. So upset and so strained. “We can afford the car and the washing machine,” James said to him one night. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry. I know it sucks all of this happened at once like this, but something good has to happen soon, right?”
Ethan’s taut back didn’t slacken at all. He knew it was silly to be this rigid and keyed up over these things. He knew that, if it had just been ONE problem, if it had JUST been his mother failing to recognize him, if it had JUST been the car having problems, if it had JUST been the washing machine dying… He wouldn’t feel THIS fretful. But, all of it simultaneously was too much for him to deal with, he couldn’t help but feel agitated. “I… I know, I’m being stupid.”
James moved his body closer to Ethan’s, then flung an arm around him. “It’s okay you feel this way,” he said. “It’s okay to feel bad things sometimes, remember? You’re the one that taught me that!”
Ethan sighed, trying his best to calm down his jumpy mind. “I know…” he said. He looked up at the ceiling. “I need to find some way to relax… This hasn’t been good for me.”
“You haven’t been sleeping,” James said. “You toss and turn all night.”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “And, it’s hard to eat, and… Um… I’ve actually been having a little trouble… Urinating.”
James sat up further. He’d noticed Ethan had been taking longer to begin peeing each morning, but hadn’t said anything. He’d actually thought that maybe Ethan was challenging himself to hold on a little bit more while aiming at the toilet. James had done that a few times and found it fun. It was exciting to try to force his bladder to retain its contents while staring right at the solution to his need. It always made his urge feel so much more intense.
But, apparently Ethan HADN’T been playing a game. He’d actually been struggling. A guilty feeling roosted itself in James’s chest. He should have asked Ethan if he was okay, he shouldn’t have just assumed he was making himself wait longer for fun… “Do you have to see a doctor?” James sure hoped not. Being diagnosed with a kidney stone or some other issue would definitely not help with Ethan’s stress…
“No,” Ethan shook his head, blushing. He didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed telling James about this. He talked to James about peeing all the time. But, somehow telling him that he couldn’t wait to go wasn’t as troubling as telling him that he was suddenly struggling to do it. “It’s… I don’t think it’s a physical problem. Not really. Just… I’m so tense all over right now that it’s hard to even relax my—“
“Ohhh,” James said. He could recall something out of one of Ethan’s books. Normally, the books in Ethan’s office were too dry and clinical for James to want to read at all, but one day when he’d been flipping through one of them he caught sight of the word ‘urinate’, and it was like a little clicker went off in his brain. He’d had no choice but to read the entire page.
He learned that there was a condition some people had called Paruresis. And that Paruresis made it hard for them to pee if they were stressed out— Usually by the presence of other people, but sometimes by other things too. The idea had interested him, and for a while, he fantasized about Ethan getting very, very desperate to go while at a sporting event, only to get stage fright trying to use a trough urinal with a bunch of other guys and end up having to continue on holding it.
He imagined Ethan urgently unbuttoning his pants and freeing himself at the crowded trough, so certain that his poor bladder’s ordeal was at last at an end, only to become filled with frustration when the rowdy crowd surrounding him rendered him unable to ease himself into a relaxed enough state to allow for urination. He imagined Ethan begrudgingly returning to his seat in the arena, his bladder FULLER than it had been when he’d left for the restroom. He imagined Ethan barely making it to the end of the event, then breaking down and confessing to him his struggle. He imagined taking Ethan around the back of the stadium to a nice, secluded corner and holding him as he finally let everything out, gasping and groaning with relief.
He knew that this was probably a very mean thing to fantasize about happening to Ethan. The book said that people with this condition usually felt very, very ashamed of it. So ashamed they were unwilling to get help even as it affected their ability to work or socialize. The book said sometimes people had such serious trouble urinating that they needed to rely on catheterization to drain their bladders— Even though there was nothing physically wrong with them! James knew it must have been an awful thing to have to live with, peeing being such an unavoidable activity and all…
Seeing how flustered Ethan now was discussing it didn’t make James feel good at all. “I’ve… I’ve noticed, when you leave the door open while you go… It’s taken you a few minutes lately.”
Heat rolled across Ethan’s face. “Y—Yeah,” he said. “I’m… Honestly lucky. There are people who… When they freeze up like that, it doesn’t come out no matter HOW long they wait for it to. I’m at least ABLE to go eventually, but I have to really concentrate on relaxing my body right now.” He paused. “That’s another thing, I’m pretty sure this little… problem of mine will stop once I’m able to feel a bit less stressed. Some people go through this all the time and need to get treatment for it, I’m lucky.”
James nodded. He felt so fuzzy hearing Ethan’s words; Even though he was having difficulties right now, he still couldn’t stop thinking about other people and about wanting to help them. It reminded him of why he loved Ethan as much as he did, he never stopped trying to help. James tried to remember if he’d ever had something like Ethan’s current problem happen to him before. But, he couldn’t think of anything. He didn’t think he’d ever gotten stage fright in a public restroom, even if he was right beside someone else. A few times, he’d been ready to burst and the only available urinal was between two people. He didn’t think twice about using it anyway. It didn’t bother him one bit. The other people were just there to pee too, after all. Until he’d read that part of Ethan’s book, he hadn’t even KNOWN that it wasn’t like that for everyone. Peeing was so easy for him— It was the ‘holding it in’ part that he had issues with!
It didn’t sound like Ethan’s new problem was exactly like the one in the book though. Ethan had peed in front of him lots of times, so there was no reason he’d feel nervous about it all of the sudden now. Ethan was probably right. He wasn’t really having ‘stage fright’, he was just so ridiculously tense in general that his body couldn’t calm down enough to perform necessary functions. Just like how he was too tense to fall into a deep sleep these days, he was also too tense to easily relieve his bladder.
“I want to help you calm down,” James said. “You’re right, this hasn’t been healthy.”
“I’ve been trying,” Ethan said. “I’ve been doing grounding exercises, and deep breathing, and—“
“And none of it’s been working,” James said gently.
“It… hasn’t,” Ethan admitted.
“I think you’ve been putting too much pressure on yourself,” James said. “You’ve been trying to control your Mom’s… problem, and take charge of everything happening here at home. I think you have to let go. Let someone else control things for a bit.”
“How do I—“
“Do you want to play a game tomorrow?” James asked.
“A… You mean one of the ‘holding’ games?”
“Yeah,” James said. “You normally feel really relaxed after that, don’t you?”
Ethan had to admit that he did. His body would be so wrung out, and allowing James to take full control over his actions put his mind into a strange, pliable and easy to manage state. When they played these games, the only things Ethan needed to focus on were holding his bladder and trusting James to take care of him and give him what he needed the second he needed it most of all. Then, he’d just have to relax and let his body do everything it had to do. “That… That would be nice, I think,” he said. “Maybe it would help me a little bit.”
James hugged him, “Okay, I promise you’ll feel loads better after.”
The next morning, Ethan woke needing the restroom like he always did. Typically, he could put off his morning pee for a little bit before his bladder deemed it mandatory, and THIS morning he didn’t know if he was allowed to take it yet at all. He turned to his side to find James was already awake and sitting up groggily. “James, I kind of have to go,” he said.
James shrugged, standing up. Just like every morning, he was a little hunched over, his knees pinched inwards against each other. While Ethan was capable of delaying his morning relief for a bit, James absolutely NEVER was. Whenever he woke up, his first stop just HAD to be the toilet unless he wanted to risk leaving a puddle somewhere. “Well, I REALLY have to go,” he told Ethan. “Come on.”
Ethan followed James to the restroom, still not fully awake and not really processing the fact that James hadn’t exactly said that HE would be getting to pee right now as well. Once Ethan saw the toilet, his bladder loosened itself in anticipation. Even though his brain was still unsure about whether or not relief was on the horizon, his body was thoroughly convinced that it most certainly WAS.
James hurried to the toilet and pulled himself out, a thin stream instantly pouring into the bowl. “Ahhh…” He sighed. “Phew…Muuuch better!”
James usually did a great deal of sighing while he urinated, but he didn’t typically talk so much about how it was making him feel. The pee still encased in Ethan’s body surged downwards, his eyes trained on the stream erupting from his partner’s cock. His thighs rubbed together slightly.
“Ethan,” James said. “I was having this crazy dream last night,” he said, his pee still hissing away. “We were at this huge amusement park and we couldn’t find a bathroom anywhere!”
Ethan swayed on his feet a little as he carried on watching while a night’s worth of urine flowed out of James’s body. The splashing as it pounded into the water made Ethan’s own bladder ache slightly As it kept pouring away, Ethan figured that it was no wonder James had been having THAT sort of dream last night, he’d been holding in quite a bit of pee… “James, I need—“
“But we both really, REALLY had to pee,” James continued, his stream starting to slow down finally. “And, there were all these water rides and fountains and stuff all over the place! Like, everywhere we went there was this constant, loud spray of water! And it made me have to go SO much, and whenever I looked at you, you were holding yourself, which was super cute, but since I was having such a big emergency I couldn’t really enjoy it…”
Ethan watched as James’s urine started to dwindle down to a slow, steady stream. A nice, relaxed bit of drizzling from the tip of his cock. Ethan couldn’t help but think how nice it would feel to allow his own body to do the same thing right now…
“And,” James went on. “I kept asking people for the restroom, but nobody there could understand English so they didn’t know what I was saying. So, I started doing a big, elaborate pee-dance to try and explain it better— And like I said, I REALLY had to go so that was easy to do…” His final few dribbles fell into the bowl and he shook himself off. “So, eventually, someone figured out what I needed and they brought us to the restroom. But, by the time we got there there was a HUGE, long line, and we waited for a while, but then you couldn’t make it and had an accident…”
Ethan blushed. It was silly, but he actually felt a little bit embarrassed about having an accident in James’s dream… “Um… What happened then?” he asked.
“I felt real bad,” James said, tucking his dick back into his pajama pants. “And so I hugged you and tried to make you feel better even though I still had to go a lot. And then I woke up,” he concluded.
Ethan watched as James then lowered the seat and lid on the toilet. The action had an air of finality to it, and Ethan got the impression that he shouldn’t even bother with asking if maybe he could go right now too. He did anyway; “Um, James? I still need to use—“
James went to the sink and began washing his hands. Ethan didn’t miss the way he cranked the faucet on full blast, producing a thunderous hiss of liquid that gave Ethan pause and made him shift his weight around ever so slightly. “Hold on, Ethan. Gotta get my hands nice and clean!”
“James,” Ethan raised his voice to be heard over the faucet. “I still have to use the toilet.”
“Oh, I know,” James shrugged, shutting off the faucet. “It isn’t time for that just yet, though. I think food is a little more important than peeing, don’t you?”
“I—“
“Of course you do,” James smiled. “Come on, let’s go have breakfast.”
Breakfast for Ethan consisted of a large mug of coffee, a glass of water, and some eggs that Ethan swore James salted too much on purpose just to make sure he’d drink all of the liquid that had been provided to him. “Ethan needs to relax today,” James said happily as he gave Ethan a kiss on the cheek before sitting down across from him. “That’s why I made breakfast!”
“Thank you…” Ethan said, taking another sip of water and trying not to think about his skipped-over morning piss. He felt rather ridiculous, but knowing that the power of suggestion could be used to great effect, he tried to pretend to himself that he HAD actually urinated after waking up. He told himself he’d peed first thing, and that his bladder was actually perfectly nice and empty right now. Any pangs or throbs that told him otherwise were purely the product of his imagination. He couldn’t TRULY need to go. He only just went!
“Last night was one of the worst pee dreams I’ve ever had,” James said. “I’m surprised I actually woke up in time! A few times, I haven’t. Like, a few years ago, I dreamed I was back in high school and I had to give this big presentation to everybody about a book I didn’t actually read. I got up in the front of the class, and I really, really had to pee. I asked if I could go, but my teacher wouldn’t let me. She said I had to finish my presentation first. So, I was squirming through the whole thing, and then when I was allowed to leave I just barely made it to a urinal, but then when I woke up I realized I was wetting the bed.”
Ethan nodded, pressing his thighs together discreetly beneath the table. ‘You don’t have to pee,’ he reminded himself. ‘You just THINK you do. But really you’re fine.’
“Have you ever had dreams like that?” James asked. “You know, one where you have to go pee really bad except there’s some reason that you can’t?”
Ethan looked down, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. “Y—Yeah,” he said. “I think everyone has had that dream before. Your sleeping brain realizes that you need to go and then it needs to come up with an explanation for why you can’t just let it out.”
“What’s the worst one you’ve ever had?”
“Um… Well, I had this really weird one once,” Ethan said, casually crossing one leg over the other. This conversation was NOT helping his attempts at tricking his bladder into thinking it was drained. “You and I were climbing a mountain for some reason, and I was frightened because we were so high up, and I also needed to pee super badly. And, you kept telling me to just go, but to get my zip open I was going to have to look down, and I couldn’t make myself do that— But, I was— I was almost wetting myself. So, you had to pull my zipper down and aim for me. And, right as you said ‘Okay, you can go now!’ I woke up, and it was the middle of the night, and I… kinda had to hurry because I was… very nearly doing it.”
“Awww,” James said. “We should do that for real!”
“We shouldn’t,” Ethan disagreed. “Mountains look good in photographs, but I’m definitely NOT going to climb one.”
That wasn’t the part that had intrigued James though… No, what HE wanted was to aim Ethan’s dick for him while he urinated… And they definitely didn’t need to be on a mountain to do that.
Ethan finished up his coffee and stood. As soon as he was on his feet, his legs crossed together at the ankles. “James…” he began, knowing what the answer was going to be but unable to stop himself from asking anyway. “May I…Um… May I perhaps go relieve myself now?”
It was such a sweet, beseeching beg, and his soft spoken little request made James’s heart flutter… Still, it was nowhere near time for Ethan’s toilet break just yet. “You may not,” he said. “Put that out of your mind for now.”
Ethan worried at his lip. It was hard to put peeing out of his mind when he hadn’t done it all day. And harder still when James kept talking to him about it. “Okay…”
“Good boy,” James praised, and Ethan felt like he was melting. He’d hold it for James as long as he wanted if it meant he’d keep calling him that… James wrapped Ethan up in a tight, warm hug, “Just keep holding it in for me, okay?”
“But I need to go let it out…” Ethan mumbled into James’s shoulder.
James ran a hand up and down Ethan’s back. “It’s not time for that right now,” he said.
“When is it time? Soon?” Ethan asked. At the moment, his pleas for release were still mostly just little teases, small gestures meant purely for James’s entertainment. Right now, the little jolts of need inside his bladder were easily managed.
He knew that that wouldn’t last all day. Knew that, eventually, he would be begging James for real, and the pangs from within would feel more and more uncontainable by the second.
But, for now, it was alright. He was in control. He was in James’s control, rather. And it felt good. The stress of the past several weeks was fading as he let James caress him and gently deny him access to the toilet that his bladder wanted him to visit.
“You want to go shower together?” James asked suddenly.
Ethan nodded quickly. Bathing with James was one of his favorite things… But, this morning, it was more of a challenge than anything. Warm water sprayed above them, and Ethan was stomping his feet against the floor of the tub as he tried not to release a stream of his own. “Be careful,” James said, holding firmly onto Ethan’s arm to keep him steady. “Don’t want you to slip.”
“Too much water…” Ethan groaned out. “I have to go…”
“Aw…” James leaned in and kissed him. “But, you just went last night, didn’t you?” he asked. “It hasn’t been that long.” He looked down, gaze stilling on Ethan’s cock. “I don’t want to see anything come out of you right now,” he said. “Behave.” His cheeks flushed when he saw Ethan’s cock twitch at his words. “Be a good boy,” he added, and reached to curl his hand around Ethan’s member, pumping it. “Not one drop out of this thing right here, okay?”
Ethan moaned, his urge to use the toilet temporarily forgotten. Ethan’s body was so sensitive right now, the strain of holding back his pee and the ferocious taunting from the water being sprayed against him made even the slightest hint of stimulation feel altogether delectable. All too soon, however, James released him. “There will be more of that if you keep holding it for me, okay?” he said.
Ethan nodded. He needed more of James’s touches. He needed more of James’s touches a LOT more than he needed to relieve his bladder.
After their shower, James got Ethan another glass of water, “Drink up!” he said cheerily.
Ethan’s bladder didn’t feel as stretched out and strained as it had under the pulsing water of the shower head, but he still shook his head. “Na—No more water,” he said. “I really need to pee, remember?”
“No tinkling yet, Ethan,” James said, enjoying the flush that overtook his partner’s face. “Maybe later, after you drink this.”
Ethan followed James’s instructions, and blushed with intense, fluttering heat when James called him a good boy once more. “Okay, come on,” James said, and Ethan’s shoulders drooped with immense relief when he saw James was leading him back into the restroom. Ethan stood in the doorway, hips shifting, hands twitching against his thighs. “Awww,” James cooed. “Is there something that you need to do in here? Something you have to use?”
Ethan nodded. “I haven’t… I haven’t peed all day, James…”
“Oh, poor thing!” James said. “You must have to go real, REAL bad by now then, huh?”
“Y—Yes…” Ethan agreed.
“Okay… Go stand at the toilet and unzip, alright?”
Ethan rushed that way, hurriedly lifting the lid and seat of the toilet and freeing himself. He was about to go. He was about to go. Ohhh, finally… Relief! His urgency spiked as he waited for permission.
“Hold it in,” James said, his wide smile audible in his voice. He could not take his eyes off Ethan no matter how hard he tried. His usually put-together and buttoned up boyfriend was coming together at the seams, becoming frazzled and frantic all because of a simple, unavoidable need. He was too alluring this way, too adorable, too lovable… ‘Ethan desperate to pee’ was definitely one of the best versions of Ethan that existed. “Hold it…” he repeated. “Hold it…”
Ethan groaned, shifting from foot to foot. Holding it while in front of the toilet was one of the most difficult things in the world to do. His body recognized this as the spot where it was supposed to unwind, unclench and relax. His body recognized this as the spot where it was meant to let everything go, stop fighting… Telling it over and over to maintain its restraint, to not let one drop fall… It was agony. “J—James?” he whimpered, his feet shifted in spasms, he tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, trying not to let the toilet remain in his field of vision. “Now?”
James stayed quiet for a moment, and then. “Hmmm…” He paused, pretending to be seriously mulling something over in his head.
“Please?”
“Please what?” James asked. This was so much fun. He wanted to see exactly how long he could draw this out. How long he could keep taunting Ethan and his poor bladder.
“Please say I can pee now?”
“Ohhh,” James said with exaggerated realization, as if that hadn’t been what they’d been playing all morning. “You want to pee?”
“Yes,” Ethan said, obvious strain in his voice.
“You want to pee really bad?”
“Yes!”
“Ah, I see,” James said. “Maybe I should let you go then…”
“You should! You should!” Ethan nodded his head up and down rapidly, still swaying from side to side, the only thing keeping his stream at bay being James’s word.
“Hmmmm….” James hummed again. “You know what? Actually, I think you can wait a little bit more, right Ethan? Zip back up now.”
Ethan cringed, jiggling up and down. “But— But I— I need to—“
“Not yet,” James said. “Put it away, alright? Maybe you can go later. If I feel like it.”
Ethan listened, fumbling himself back into his pants and zipping them. A huge, catastrophic deluge of need crashed through him and the first drop of his burden slipped out into his boxers. He tucked his hand between his legs. “I need to pee now…”
“You need to HOLD it now,” James corrected. “Come on,” he gestured to the doorway. “Let’s go.” He knew that leaving this room without urinating was the LAST thing Ethan wanted to do.
But, he knew that it was also EXACTLY what he wanted.
Ethan obediently followed James back out into the living room, where they sat together on the couch. James flicked on the TV, but neither of them paid it any attention. Ethan felt weighted down by his full bladder, and his hand remained pressed firmly into his crotch as he squirmed and writhed and bucked his hips.
“Poor Ethan,” James said, resting a hand on Ethan’s thigh. “Something’s bothering him! I can tell!”
“I need to relieve myself…” Ethan mumbled. “I really, really need to relieve myself.”
“You do?” James asked. “But, we were just in the bathroom! You must not have to go that badly if you didn’t do it then!”
“You… You wouldn’t let me…” Ethan reminded.
“Oh, that’s right,” James said. “But, that’s only because I know you can hold it.” He stroked his hand down Ethan’s leg. “I know when you need to go, and when you can hold it. Just let me handle everything. It will be okay.”
Ethan slumped against James’s body. He knew James would grant him his relief in time. He knew he could trust James. He knew he could give James all the power here and that everything would be okay. James put his arms around him and gave him a hug. A very, very tight hug that made Ethan’s bladder throb and send a spurt of pee into his boxers. “A—Ah—!”
James eased up and relief flew through Ethan as some of the pressure faded. “You okay?”
“I need to pee!”
“I know, I can tell. But, it’s just not time to go just yet.”
“Please, please say it’s time soon?” Ethan begged. “I can’t wait much longer!”
“You can,” James said. “You can hold it.”
Ethan gripped onto James with one hand and clutched his cock tightly in the other, jiggling up and down as his bladder throbbed with furious need. “I can’t!” His legs coiled up on one another and his grip on himself strengthened. “I can’t wait, I can’t wait! I need to go!”
“Just hold on,” James said. “Here, hold my hand…”
Ethan clasped a hand around James’s and squeezed it as hard as he was squeezing his dick. “James… Please?”
“Shhh…” James said. “Let me handle it…” He squeezed Ethan’s hand back. “So tense…”
“Because I need to—“
“But, you don’t need to worry,” James said. “I’ll take care of you…”
Ethan’s grip on James slackened a little, and his teeth ceased digging a hole into his lip.
“I’ve got you…” James said. “I’ll handle everything… Just hold it in and let me make the decisions, okay?”
And, for a while, Ethan felt better. He had to pee like crazy, but James would bring him to the toilet before he had an accident. James would take care of him and make sure he was alright. James was in charge. James was capable and he loved Ethan and would never let anything bad happen to him.
And Ethan could hold it. He could hold it however long James thought he could.
Ethan didn’t dare release his hold on his dick, didn’t dare relax any of his pelvic muscles, didn’t dare breathe in too deeply or sit up too straightly. But, he held it. He held it, and he trusted James.
He desperately, DESPERATELY needed to pee, but he no longer felt on the very edge of an accident. “H—How much longer?” he asked after a while.
“Don’t worry about that,” James said. “Let ME be the one to deal with it.”
Ethan nodded. “Is it… Is it soon?”
“Don’t worry,” James repeated. “You just have to focus on keeping it in, I’ll be the one worrying about when it comes out.” He rubbed a soothing pattern into Ethan’s thigh. “Hold it…” he said.
“I need to pee, James…” Ethan whispered. “I need to pee SO badly… I… I just… Please, please let me go? Please?”
“No,” James said, drawing him closer. “You’re warm… I’m comfortable here.”
“I’m not…” Ethan said. “ I need to go!”
“Later,” James promised. “For now, do you want to talk?”
“I won’t be able to concentrate…” Ethan said with a wince. “All I can think about is peeing…”
“Well, I sure don’t mind talking about that,” James said. “How are you feeling?”
“I… I feel like there’s a bowling ball in my stomach,” Ethan said. “I feel like I’m holding in water I drank years ago. I feel like I’m going to pee any second and wet the couch.”
James shook his head, “You won’t wet the couch,” he promised. “You’ve got this.”
Ethan whimpered. He did not feel anywhere near as confident as his partner did. He may have only leaked a couple times so far, but it was taking a Herculean effort not to do it again right now. It was so hard not to just let every last drop rush out of him in an intense flood… “Please, James…” he whimpered.
“Is this the worst you’ve ever had to go?”
“I— I don’t know,” Ethan said. “I don’t THINK it is, but it’s… It’s hard to measure it… I’m so full, I can’t—“
“You can…” James assured. “Does it hurt?”
“It… No, it’s not painful,” Ethan said. “Not like the times where it made my back ache. But, it feels like the tip of my…”
James flushed scarlet. “It… Feels like…”
“It feels like… Um… It feels like the spot where my pee comes out is burning…”
James nodded, feeling heat flame through him. God… That was so vivid… “Lift your shirt.”
Ethan backed up slightly, his bladder protesting even that small bit of movement, then rolled up his shirt. This revealed a protrusion in his lower abdomen, a tight, swollen and firm ball of piss right in his center. James’s eyes widened. “Oh… Oh wow, you DO have to go…”
“I do…” Ethan moaned.
James knew that the swelling in his boyfriend’s body meant that they were going to HAVE to stop soon. Otherwise, Ethan was going to either have an accident, or hurt himself. Neither of which were desired outcomes today. There was just… One more thing he still wanted to do. “Let’s go in the backyard now, okay?”
Ethan whimpered as he dragged himself to his feet. Of course, his bladder took this as a sign that it was going to be emptied very soon, and he needed to clench all his muscles and jiggle around, fighting to stay dry as a bolt of pure, white hot need ricocheted through him. “Ohhh, James, please—“
“Soon,” James promised. “It will be very soon, but come into the backyard first, okay?”
Ethan hobbled after James out the back door, wondering what James had in store for him next. He needn’t have wondered for long. He should have known. They had recently gotten a small fountain installed on the patio, and James encouraged him to sit down in one of the lawn chairs and just… Watch and listen to it gush.
The little fountain gently poured a small, clear stream of water into a tiny pond. The liquid trickled and tinkled softly, just barely loud enough to wreak all-out havoc on Ethan’s firm, full bladder. His body rocked from side to side. “James!” Ethan whined, feeling a drop of pee forming at the precipice of his exit. “I can’t— I can’t do this much more, I’ll— I’m about to go!”
James stayed quiet for a moment, then opened his mouth, “Does Ethan have to tinkle?” he asked.
“Yes,” Ethan nodded, and as if to emphasize his point, his bladder shot him a particular sharp, painful bolt of need and caused him to bounce up and down in his seat.
“Does Ethan want me to take him to the bathroom? Would that maybe make him feel better?”
“YES!” Ethan cried. “YES! PLEASE! It would make me feel SO much better!”
James nodded. “Okay. I’ll take you there now, then.”
Ethan didn’t dare ask if James intended to actually let him GO this time. If he didn’t… If he didn’t allow it, Ethan was going to explode and gush all over the floor for sure. He stumbled up, curled in on himself and crossed his legs so tight that it hurt. “Can’t… Can’t hold it…” he whimpered. “Need to… James, please? I need to pee SO bad…” His eyes were watering, liquid searching for any possible escape route.
“I’ve got you,” James promised. “I’ve got it all under control, don’t worry about anything…” He gingerly led Ethan back inside, back through the house, and into the room his poor boyfriend was dying to visit. “Okay,” he said. “Here we are.”
The desperate desire to empty his bladder caused Ethan to pace back and forth in the small room, waiting for James’s permission to be given. “James—!” he cried. He couldn’t stop moving. Moving was the only thing that could tamp down the devastating need to let it all out. His whole body ached with the urge. It felt like the edges of his skin were about to start splitting from the heinous pressure inside him. “James, please?!”
“Go to the toilet,” James said.
Ethan did, his legs remained crossed, dick crushed between them. “Please, please—“
“Lift the lid.”
Ethan obeyed. He stared at the seat, and below it, the bowl in all its porcelain glory… His bladder couldn’t take much more. He was losing little drops every second. “I—“
“Seat up,” James said.
Ethan hurried to do this as well. The toilet was now prepared in the way it generally was when he used it, but James had still yet to say if he could actually do so at last… his brain was filled with needy fog, imagined streams of urine and water and oceans and— and— “James!”
“Zipper down.”
Ethan ripped his zip down nosily, the sound penetrating through the haze in his brain and making him spurt violently into his boxers. “James, I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait. I’m about to—“
“Take it out now.”
Ethan freed his cock and aimed it at the toilet. A clear droplet of pee formed at his tip and plinked into the bowl. Followed by another. And another. He needed to go. He needed to go. He just… He couldn’t take it anymore. His bladder was so full, his whole body was so full, every crevice in him must have been stuffed full of piss. “James— Please—“
“Hold it,” James said.
At those words, Ethan’s heart sank. “Please, James…” he begged. “I’m— I’m practically doing it—“
“Not yet,” James said.
Another drip fell from his cock. And another. Then a brief pulse of a stream. He wrenched back control, but it wasn’t going to last much longer. Oh God, oh God…
“Ethan, do you trust me?”
“Of course I do…” Ethan moaned, dancing in place.
“Then, trust me when I say you can hold it…”
“But… But I can’t— I—“ Ethan was interrupted by another jet of pee splashing out. “I can’t— Please—“
James came closer until he was pressed into Ethan’s back. “Trust me…” he said. “You can hold it…”
“I can’t!” Ethan protested. “I can’t! I can’t do it! Please? Please just let me pee! It’s too much! I’m going to—“
“Let go of yourself,” James said.
Ethan shook his head back and forth frantically. Squeezing his cock was the only reason he wasn’t completely flooding the toilet already, permission or no permission.
“Trust me,” James said. “Let me take care of this…”
“James, please—“
“It will be okay,” James said. “Just let go of it.”
Ethan cringed, but finally did as he’d been asked. Pee started to trickle slowly and haltingly into the bowl the instant he’d released his dick. He was able to restrain it every couple seconds, but then it would start back up again.
James reached around to Ethan’s front and took his cock in his hand, pointing the slick, leaking thing down into the bowl. “Shhh….” He soothed. “It’s okay, Ethan… Go.”
“Wha—What?” Ethan took a few more seconds to understand. All he could think about was his boiling need for a massive piss. Then, it hit him. “James?”
“Time to pee, Ethan,” James said. “Go.”
As soon as that word passed James’s lips, Ethan exploded. He unleashed an enormous flood. Over half a day’s worth of pent up pee burst forth. “Ohhhhhhhh….!!!” Ethan let out a long, low moan as his body… relaxed. It relaxed. It RELAXED! It totally, fully, completely relaxed for the first time in… In Ethan didn’t even KNOW how long. His mouth hung open. The feeling built up, his eyes rolled back into his head with bliss. He shivered and shuddered and shook with relief, his entire lower body twitching as what must have been gallons of liquid torment were dumped from his urethra with incredible force. His pee-hole didn’t burn or sting anymore, and all the pulsing spasms in his middle suddenly felt GOOD.
James was burning up, painfully turned on by being THIS close to Ethan while he urinated, by actually DIRECTING his stream for him. He was panting as much as Ethan was! His pants were growing uncomfortably tight, the feeling worsening by the second, and he couldn’t wait to take Ethan to bed after this, and show him just how much he’d appreciated his incredible performance today. “Oh… Oh wow,” he said. “Somebody had to PEE, didn’t he?”
Ethan could only respond with another moan. The pressure didn’t die down, his stream only grew more and more violent. He was releasing a gushing waterfall of pure ecstasy. The pleasure was making his toes curl. Gone was any conscious thought. A very intelligent man, a PHD, was reduced purely to the most base animalistic of instincts. The intensity of his joy almost made him collapse, but James was right there behind him, holding him nice and steady. Taking care of him. He was even aiming for him! Ethan didn’t have to worry about anything. He didn’t have to DO anything! James was doing it all for him, James was making everything okay and better. James was in control, and that was good and okay and wonderful. Everything was good and okay and wonderful now, because Ethan was peeing and that felt amazing…
“There you go…” James soothed. “All better now… All better… No more problems… Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Haaahhhh…” Ethan groaned an affirmative sounding noise.
“Awww, feels really good?” James guessed. “And who’s a good boy, trusting me like this?”
“Mmmm….”
“I told you I’d handle everything,” James said. “Such a good boy for listening. Such a good boy!”
Ethan pushed harder on his pelvic muscles, he wanted to be able to piss forever, but James’s words and the hand he’d placed on his cock were having an affect, and Ethan really wanted to finish going before that affect got too strong…
“Such a good boy…” James kept repeating. “Let it all go, just relax, just let it out…”
Ethan listened, he allowed his body to keep draining, allowed the relief and the delight of James’s praise to envelop him like a blanket. He felt so good, he felt so calm, he felt so, so much better… He just kept standing there, letting it all happen.
A little after two minutes of furious, thunderous pissing, his stream slowly subsided and trickled to a stop. He was empty. He was blessedly, wondrously empty.
“All done?” James asked.
“…Yeah…” Ethan breathed.
“Good boy,” James repeated, shaking Ethan off, an action that quickly transformed itself into stroking.
“Ohhh…” Ethan moaned.
“I told you you’d get more of this if you held it,” James reminded. “And, boy did you ever hold it!”
“Don’t stop…” Ethan begged.
“I’m going to make you feel REAL good after all that, I promise,” James said, releasing Ethan’s cock and eliciting mewls of protest. But, then James was pulling his pants off of him and directing him to the floor, and Ethan had to keep himself upright using his hands and knees, and James was digging around in the bathroom cabinet for a bottle of lubricant. “Y—You ready?”
“Yes!” Ethan begged. “Please! I want you!” He gasped out. “I NEED you!”
James nodded, then poured some of the bottle’s contents onto his fingertips and prepped Ethan’s entrance with frantic desire, that alone being enough to make Ethan groan and ache for more. James hurriedly unzipped his pants and tugged them down before mounting Ethan, and in spite of the lube there was still a small bit of pain before James’s cock made contact with Ethan’s prostate and then there was nothing but pleasure.
James’s hands dug firmly into Ethan’s hips as he thrusted and thrusted away. James reached and began pumping Ethan’s dick once more, his own cock still twitching within him. He was already so close. Ethan had turned him on such a ridiculous amount today that there was no way he was going to last for long. He could already feel his orgasm beginning to creep up on him, radiating from his crotch and out through his entire body.
“James…” Ethan moaned. “Ohhh, James…. I’m so close…” His body was so raw, so utterly sensitive after everything it had just gone through. Every sensation James pumped into him now was drawing forth bits of pre-cum and ecstatic grunts of pleasure.
James sped up his movements, trying to alternate the thrusts of his hand and his dick. He wanted Ethan to get so thoroughly turned on that he would totally burst, since HE was already about to burst himself.
“James—!” Ethan cried out. He was beyond coherent at this point, just letting out a series of moans and groans, sometimes punctuated with his partner’s name. Pretty much every thrust was stimulating Ethan’s prostate, making him squeal with pleasure until his throat hurt. “James—Ah—! James, I’m gonna—“
“Cum for me, Ethan,” James said.
‘Oh God… Those words…’
Ethan’s orgasm was building up quickly now, overtaking him. He tensed his whole body, breathing so fast he was getting dizzy. James’s hand pumping his dick, mixed with the firm cock inside him slamming into his prostate on nearly every thrust… It was more than he could handle. He couldn’t hold back anymore, he was about to lose it. Then, with one more thrust against that spot inside his body followed by another pump of the hand on his cock, the first jolt slammed into him.
“Good boy…” James breathed out, trying so hard to speak as his own orgasm built up. “Cum for me, Ethan.”
And, Ethan did.
Pleasure crashed in waves through his body, and cum spurted from his dick. He cried out incoherently as his cock bounced, shooting out more and more of his load. He could feel himself going taut around James’s length, James’s dick searing within him and making him ejaculate even more.
“Ohhh!” James wailed, his cock throbbed within Ethan, his breath hitching in his throat, and then he was cumming. He shuddered as his cum escaped him, releasing a series of moans so intense they sounded like sobs. His dick was pulsating and he no longer had the strength in him to carry on thrusting or even to hold himself up, he collapsed onto his partner’s back, dick still spurting into him.
Ethan felt James’s member still throbbing within him, cum filling his insides. If he hadn’t just climaxed a few moments ago, the twitching dick and hot fluid pumping into him would have gotten Ethan rock hard once again in an instant.
Finally, James pulled out of him, and they both collapsed onto the floor, laying there and trying to regain control over their breathing. James turned to his side and nuzzled against Ethan, “Mmm…”
“That was…” Ethan panted out, still dizzy. “That was amazing…”
James didn’t know how or when since his brain was still fuzzy from how hard he’d just climaxed, but he managed to get a washcloth and clean them both off before helping Ethan stumble back to the bedroom so they could rest somewhere that was a little more comfortable than the restroom floor. At some point, they became entwined in one another’s arms, and Ethan was at last on the cusp of a very restful, peaceful sleep. James kissed him gently on the cheek, “Time to relax now, Ethan…” he whispered. “I love you…”
He sighed as he listened to Ethan’s breathing even out. He pulled him in so closely that they were once again nuzzling each other, feeling Ethan’s warm skin against his own as he too feel asleep. |
Several hours later, both awoke. Neither made any move to get out of bed, too overwhelmed by the warm, cozy feeling of one another’s embrace. “Uh…” Ethan began. “Um… James?”
“Yes. Ethan?” James asked, squeezing Ethan to him.
“You know how, sometimes, I tell you stories about times I’ve… Really needed to go?”
James nodded, nuzzling against his boyfriend. “Of course, it’s one of my most favorite things.”
“Could you maybe… Tell me a story like that?” Ethan requested.
James grinned so much his face hurt. He’d been dying to hear Ethan ask him for that! “Sure! Of course! I have LOADS of stories!”
Ethan curled closer to James and listened.
“So, the first job I had was at a fast food restaurant,” James said. “You know how I’m good at being friendly to people, so the customers all liked me a lot. But, my manager Celia was SUPER mean, she didn’t like me at all, no matter what I did! And, one day, I made a really, really terrible mistake…”
***
James had screwed up. Big time. He had made the worst mistake he could have possibly made and now he knew he was going to suffer. And he was going to suffer a lot.
He’d forgotten to pee before coming to start his shift.
He couldn’t believe he’d done that! His bladder was TINY, he ALWAYS peed before leaving somewhere! How could it have seriously slipped his mind this time? He hadn’t even been in a big rush, or anything! He’d just… Walked out the door without peeing, taken the bus down here without peeing, then clocked in without peeing. He didn’t even THINK about peeing at all during any of it.
As soon as he was back in the kitchen, preparing orders of fries, peeing became the biggest thing on James’s mind. Because he suddenly NEEDED to do it VERY badly. And the bubbling liquid in the fryer wasn’t helping with his situation.
Of course, he couldn’t just leave the fries alone while he went to use the toilet. They could get burnt, or catch fire, or the oil could spill over and melt a big hole into the floor!
Well. Probably not that last thing. But still. James had a job to do and peeing had to come second. He continued making batches of fries, his hips swaying from side to side needfully the entire time. Eventually though, he was saved. One of his coworkers came to take over the fryer so he could deliver orders to people’s tables. That was good news! He could go pee on his way out there.
James smiled at his coworker and nodded, “Thank you for helping,” he said. “I really need a break from the fryer.” A few months ago, James probably would have blurted out “Oh, thank you so much! I’m dying to pee!” and gotten a weird look. These days he was able to better understand that most people didn’t want to hear him talk about the state of his bladder.
He WAS definitely dying to pee though. Now that he knew relief was fast approaching, he actually felt like he had to go even worse. He thought that was interesting, how the knowledge that he’d be urinating soon caused his urge to amplify, like giving his bladder a megaphone.
To get to the employee restroom, he would have to walk by the manager’s office. He didn’t like doing this. He didn’t like risking Celia’s attention. James had no idea why, but Celia seemed to despise him. Truth be told, she seemed to despise everybody that worked for her, and James couldn’t figure that out. How could somebody just hate everyone? Surely there had to be some way to make her happy, right?
But, if there WAS a way to please Celia, James certainly hadn’t found it yet. He’d done everything that was expected of him at his job and then some. He didn’t just bring customers their food and walk away, he tried to actually talk to them and get to know them. And he always made extra food during times when few people were coming in to eat, to make sure the restaurant didn’t run out of anything. But still, Celia always found some reason to yell at him, tell him off, and make him feel like he was three inches tall.
Once, after a particularly awful exchange with Celia, James had needed to go into the walk-in freezer to cry for a few minutes. One of his coworkers found him there, and had been very concerned. James was always so happy and excited, hiding and sobbing wasn’t like him at all.
James was hoping to avoid such a run-in on his way to the toilet, but he wasn’t so lucky. Just as he entered the hall that led to the restroom he needed so much, Celia stepped out of her office. She was frowning. Of course she was. James had never seen her smile even once; Not even when it was one of his coworkers’ birthdays and so he’d brought in cupcakes he’d baked for everyone. Instead of being happy, Celia had yelled at him for bringing outside food into the restaurant and possibly contaminating everything with an allergen. That hadn’t made sense to James since the cupcakes were covered in plastic wrap and crumbs couldn’t have landed in any of the cooking equipment. But when Celia accused him of not caring about triggering an allergic reaction in someone, he felt just awful.
The look she was giving him now was the same one she’d given that day. “What are you doing?” she barked. “It’s not time for your break.”
James looked down at his feet, which he realized were pointing towards each other, his knees bowed inward a little bit as the liquid inside him pleaded to be set free. “I know,” he said. “I just have to use the restroom real quick.”
“You have work to do,” Celia said. “I’m sick of people slacking off in the bathroom.”
James worried at his lip, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “I— I wasn’t going to slack off, ma’am,” he said. “I just need to—“
“I’ve written up three people this month for hiding in the bathroom for a smoke,” Celia said. “Do you want to be the fourth?”
“I don’t smoke,” James said. “I really do just have to go.”
“Well, then hold it until it’s time for your break,” Celia said. “We need you out there.”
James knew that. He knew he had a job he needed to do. He just… Also needed to pee pretty bad and didn’t think it was such a good idea to start running from table to table carrying trays without relieving himself first. “It will only take a minute,” he said.
“James,” Celia said. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” James answered, his sweaty hands curling into fists. He could SEE the door to the restroom from behind Celia. He could see the little green marker above the doorknob that showed it was vacant, free to use… His bladder pinched at him even more relentlessly as he stared at it, unable to comprehend why he hadn’t brought it there yet.
“Eighteen,” Celia repeated. “I think that’s old enough to be toilet trained, don’t you?”
James nodded. In all this time Celia had spent berating him, he could have peed, washed his hands, and gotten back to work… He didn’t think it would be wise to say that, however. He felt it again now, that shrinking feeling. Like Celia was cutting him off at the knees.
“It is,” Celia agreed. “You’re a big boy. You don’t need to put off work just because you need to ‘go potty’. Now, get to work or I’m going to need to write you up.”
The shrinking continued, being talked down to like he was a toddler made James feel like he really was one! Was this… Okay? Could Celia really deny him access to the toilet when he really had to go? Could she really discipline him for trying to use it anyway? Teachers at school could do that… Maybe bosses were allowed to as well? James had no idea. He didn’t know if there were any rules bosses had to follow.
***
“Wait, you do know NOW that that’s not allowed, don’t you?” Ethan interrupted. As delighted as he was to imagine James getting squirmy, he definitely didn’t like hearing about someone treating him so cruelly.
“Yeah,” James nodded. “I know better now, I just didn’t back then because I’d never worked anywhere before.”
“And she was probably counting on that,” Ethan said. “She saw you were young and inexperienced, so she saw it as an opportunity to be a bully. Some people get a little bit of power and it goes to their heads.”
“She was a bully,” James agreed. “But, back then, I just thought all bosses acted like her. So, anyway, I went back to work like Celia said, even though I STILL really had to go…”
***
James struggled a lot with bringing orders out to customers. Walking back and forth from the front counter to all the tables meant that his bladder was constantly being jiggled and sloshed around. He wasn’t shy about showing his need, he usually allowed his body to contort and bounce as much as it needed to to prevent an accident. But, right now he had to try very, very hard NOT to do any pee-dancing. Celia yelled at him all of the time about how he was not supposed to lean, stating that it made him look like he was slacking. Doubling over with desperation would look an awful lot like leaning.
He also had to keep any signs of distress off of his face. He needed to keep smiling, keep being friendly, and keep talking to the customers. He asked them all how they were doing, and if they asked him any questions, it was so hard not to say anything about needing to pee to them! He badly wanted to TELL someone that he had to go. Growing up, whenever he told someone he needed the toilet, that ALWAYS got him to one a lot faster. His family knew how hard it was for him to hold it, and his teachers all eventually worked it out eventually as well and generally understood that when James said it was an emergency, it really WAS one and he wasn’t just trying to sneak out of class.
Maybe, eventually Celia would understand that too? But… With some of his teachers, they only realized he was being serious about how often he needed to pee AFTER he’d had an accident or two after they’d refusing him the toilet when he’d asked. Wetting himself a few times in elementary school was embarrassing, but not entirely unexpected. Doing it in middle school had been a lot MORE humiliating, but he WAS still just a kid…
Doing it now? As an adult at a real job? That would be well BEYOND mortifying.
And what if instead of saying, “Oh, I’m sorry, James! I guess you really DID have to go, I won’t do that again,” Celia just got angry with him for creating a mess? He knew that this was the more likely outcome. If he peed himself, Celia was surely just going to shout at him. She’d scold him for being unsanitary, leaving a puddle of his bodily fluids in a place that served food. She’d call him horrible names again. He couldn’t take being yelled at by her AND having an accident in public all at once like that!
So, James was determined NOT to let that happen. And in order to do that, he had to HOLD it. Even if that was really, really difficult for him to do. When he went to grab another tray for someone, he glanced at the clock visible on the computer screens above the counter. Three hours until he was scheduled to have his break. Three hours until he could relieve his bladder. And it had already been a little over two hours since he’d last visited a toilet. That meant in total he’d have to go five hours without any bathroom breaks!
Five hours without peeing may not have been a long time to some people, but to James it was an eternity. He preferred to go at least once an hour if he could. After two he’d be more than a bit uncomfortable like he was now. After three, he’d be bouncing and squirming with urgency.
He’d never made it to four.
Five was… It was impossible. He’d burst.
He tried not to think that way. He tried to be positive. His job made him move around a whole bunch, so some of the liquid inside him would come out as sweat, right? It wouldn’t even make it to his bladder. Maybe if he sweated enough, he’d be able to hold it in. He hoped that would work. It HAD to work. He could NOT lose control here.
James picked up the tray waiting on the counter and, on legs which were a bit wobblier than usual, brought it to the proper table. He tried not to pay attention to the tea filled cup that was on the tray. He tried not to hear the way the liquid inside it splashed with each step he took. He tried not to notice how his bladder rolled and sloshed along with it.
He set the tray down in front of the customer. She was an elderly woman that James knew well as one of the restaurant’s regulars, Mabel. Mabel always liked to talk. And she really liked to talk to James. She said James reminded her of her grandson. James was usually perfectly happy to talk with her for as long as he could, but today he wanted to keep running around to try and work up a sweat.
It wouldn’t be nice to ignore Mabel though… So, when she started chatting to him, James stayed by her side and responded to everything she said. He was barely paying attention. His bladder seemed to be getting fuller and fuller by the second, his hips twitched involuntarily as his discomfort grew and grew. Eventually, he was crossing his legs and allowing himself to bounce just the tiniest, little bit.
“James?” Mabel paused in the story she was recounting about her grandson. “Are you alright, dear?”
‘No,’ James thought. ‘I’m scared that I’m gonna have an accident!’ He wanted to tell Mabel. She felt like a grandmother to him, and grandmothers always took care of their grandchildren and helped them when they were in trouble. There wasn’t anything Mabel could do for him, though. And he was certain that she didn’t want to hear him talk about his current urinary distress. He nodded. “I’m… I’m fine.”
“Are you sure, honey?” Mabel asked, raising a brow. She’d raised two children, and could very easily recognize the dance James was currently performing. “There’s… Nothing you need to ‘do’ right now?”
James lowered his voice, “I… I need to… I need to go to the bathroom real bad,” he said miserably. “But, I’m not allowed to.” He glanced over his shoulder at the men’s room set aside for customers… Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be in there right now!
Mabel looked at him for a moment. “Not ALLOWED to?” she repeated.
James nodded and chewed at his lip, rubbing his hands over the tops of his thighs. “My manager said I can’t. Not for a couple hours.”
“That’s… You look like you’re about to pop,” Mabel said.
James blushed. Even if he wasn’t too shy about peeing, it still made him feel funny when other people talked about his desperation. “I FEEL like I’m going to.”
“I should speak to your manager,” Mabel said. “This isn’t right.”
James felt his insides churn. He had a feeling that, if Mabel said something to Celia, he would be reprimanded. He was positive Celia would be VERY displeased that he’d mentioned his bodily needs to a customer— Even if that customer had been asking if he felt alright. “N—No,” he said. “She’ll be mad at me. I’ll just wait.”
“James, sweetheart,” Mabel said. “You have the right to—“
“James!”
He heard someone shouting for him from the kitchen.
“G—Gotta go,” James said, meaning it in two distinctly different ways. Walking around again after standing in one place for so long seemed to wake his bladder back up, caused it to begin thrashing once more. He needed to pause partway to the kitchen so he could cross his legs and take a few steadying breaths.
Once inside the kitchen, he saw it was Celia that had yelled for him. Of course it was. She was standing beside one of the new employees, Jasmine. Jasmine was a girl James knew from high school. There, she’d been the queen bee. Everyone had wanted to be her friend, which was strange since she wasn’t very nice… She spread cruel rumors about other girls and everyone believed them because she was Jasmine and Jasmine had power…
Here though, Jasmine didn’t seem to have ANY power at all. Her face was crumpling and she looked like she was going to cry. James felt bad for her, even knowing how mean she’d been in the past.
“James,” Celia said. “YOU’VE figured out how to salt the fries, haven’t you?”
James nodded. Without his notice, he’d begun to walk in place. If he allowed his body weight to rest on one leg for two long, the pressure at the base of his cock would sharpen into a bright, hot point of pain, so he had to continually shift from side to side.
“Then YOU get to teach HER,” Celia grouched, gesturing to Jasmine. “If that’s even POSSIBLE.” She glowered at Jasmine. “What did I hear you say you wanted to go to school for? Law? Honey, you are never gonna be a lawyer if you can’t even salt french fries.”
James saw Jasmine’s expression wilt even more, and he felt angry. At school, Jasmine was the picture of confidence and, if he was honest, smug superiority. But THIS girl… This girl was broken and fearful. That was what Celia did, she broke people down. He tried to give Jasmine a sympathetic smile, but he was unsure if she noticed. It had come out as more of a grimace anyway as he felt a sudden jolt from within his body and the liquid he was containing made a frantic rush downwards. “Ooh…” He crossed his legs, knees rubbing together. “I’ll… I’ll help, Celia!” he managed to say. He was even able to keep some of his usual chipper attitude in his tone… Even though he was feeling anything BUT chipper right now.
“Good,” Celia said. “And stand up straight. What have I told you about leaning?”
James nodded, “I—I’m sorry… If I could just please use the bathroom, I promise I won’t do—“
“THIS again,” Celia asked, rolling her eyes in a way that James thought looked a little overdramatic. “We’ve already discussed this, James. Work time is not toilet time. You can go use the big boy potty when you’re not on the clock.”
James looked down at his still tapping feet. Heat rose up in his chest, all through his neck, and burned across his face. Why did she have to mock him like that? And in front of someone he’d gone to school with, no less! He expected Jasmine to snicker, because if they were at school and James was fidgeting and bouncing like this, she would definitely laugh at him. She didn’t now though. She just stood there, still looking as though she was fighting back a wave of tears as much as James was fighting back a wave of pee.
“O—Okay,” James said. He approached the fryer, now able to hear the oil inside of it hiss… God, how had he not noticed before how much that sounded like a strong jet of pee striking a urinal? Ohhh, James needed a urinal! He needed one so bad! Please, please… He clenched his thighs, trying to pin himself shut between them. He was too late though, the first little dribble of his agony spurted forth and warmed the front of his boxers. “S—So…” he squeaked. “Th—The salt—“
“Is Celia always like this?” Jasmine interrupted.
“Y—Yeah,” James nodded. He wanted to get this thing with Jasmine done as fast as possible. He knew rushing through his tasks would not actually make his break come sooner, but he was so frantic and filled with the urge to run around and move about that he couldn’t stay focused on one thing for long. “She’s… Nnnh,” James squeezed his eyes shut, another spurt shooting past his worn out defenses. He knew that when he got to the point where he was leaking, his bladder was not long for this world.
He was not going to last until his break.
He was going to have an accident.
Celia was going to yell at him.
Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. “She’s… Never very nice to anyone.”
Jasmine nodded. “I don’t even know what the fuck she wants me to do. If I use one shake of the salt, she says it’s too little. If I use two, she says it’s too much. And she was in here shouting at me for SO long, like, her talking is just so fucking annoying!”
James uncrossed his legs, which immediately prompted another leak as he frantically crossed them again in the other direction. He was glad his work uniform pants were black, otherwise there would definitely be a very visible damp patch around his crotch by now. The material encasing his dick felt warm and clammy, and the wetness taunted him, teasing his tip, trying to entice it into letting out even more. “I— I don’t know what she wants, either,” James said. “I never know, I think she just likes being mad at peop— Ooooh…” He doubled over on himself and shoved his hands against his crotch, squeezing and squeezing away, but not tightly enough to stave off one more frantic, pained burst of urine.
He kept clutching at his cock for several seconds, holding on for dear life. His hands felt like the only thing keeping his flood at bay. If he let go, it would all come rushing out in one huge waterfall of humiliation and failure, and he couldn’t hold it, he couldn’t hold it, he couldn’t—
“James!”
James glanced up, his watery eyes catching sight of Celia, and by God was she ever furious. “C—Celia,” he said meekly, not daring to release his dick from his grasp, or uncross his legs, or stand up all the way. He stayed there, folded almost in half, his legs tied together, and his hands squeezing the living daylights out of his leaking member.
“This is unacceptable,” Celia said. “You will NOT touch yourself in the kitchen, do you understand me? This is completely unsanitary. You’re disgusting.”
James FELT disgusting. His wet boxers clinging to his thighs in public… He could even kind of smell some of his leakage. He WAS disgusting. “If I could just use the—“
“No!” Celia said. “You are not a two year old! Stop behaving like one. Uncross your legs, stand up, and let go of yourself right now.”
James reluctantly did these things. He made himself stand up straighter, pulling the skin of his abdomen taut over his swelling bladder. He made his legs separate, causing the pressure inside his body to skyrocket. Then, very, very slowly, he released his grip on his dick, which immediately began to dribble. A new drop seeped out of him every second, his urethra trembling as it threatened to push out a stream.
“Now, wash your hands.”
James nodded eagerly. There was a sink in the employee bathroom! More importantly though, there was a TOILET in there. Yes, this was his chance! He could finally—
“Where are you going?” Celia asked when she saw James head in the direction of the hall that led to the restroom.
“T—To wash my hands,” he said.
“No,” Celia said. “Do it in the kitchen.”
James didn’t bother trying to argue. Now the prospect of washing his hands filled him with dread. All that warm, washing water… Timidly, he cranked on the kitchen sink. As water began to plink into the metal basin, he bit down a loud, loud moan. Instantly, a fantasy flew into his mind’s eye, one he’d never EVER act out, but one that was all too enticing nevertheless. He imagined himself yanking down his zip, standing on the tips of his toes, and gushing full force into the sink. He could turn the water on full blast to cover up the sound, and it would wash away immediately with no one knowing, and—
“Wash your hands,” Celia prompted.
James thrusted his hands underneath the faucet. The second the warm, wet feeling hit his flesh, his drips turned into hesitant, slow spurts. He scrubbed his hands as fast as he could, and Celia finally left him alone.
“Wow,” Jasmine breathed out, and James jumped, releasing another jet of pee. He felt tiny streams winding down his legs now… He’d actually forgotten Jasmine was still here, he’d been so caught up in his personal Hell. “What a bitch.”
James didn’t say anything. He didn’t like calling people names, but that one did describe Celia pretty well. “A—Anyway,” he said. “Th—The fries…” He hobbled back towards Jasmine and the fryer, but once he heard the oil hissing, he stopped. He couldn’t handle listening to that kind of noise anymore, unless it was the sound of his own stream rushing out into a toilet…
“Forget about it,” Jasmine said. “Nothing you show me will make Celia happy.” She stared at James, and he squirmed beneath her gaze, unsure if it was embarrassment or desperation anymore. “You… REALLY need to use the bathroom, huh?”
James nodded miserably. Even though he knew he’d been told it wasn’t allowed, his legs had crossed back together. His hands were clinging onto his pant legs, dying to be permitted to return to his dick. “I… I need to tinkle so much…”
“Heh…” Jasmine smiled, and in spite of everything, James felt good. He’d cheered her up at least a tiny bit. And that made his chest warm from something that wasn’t humiliation. “Did you just say ‘tinkle’?”
“Yeah,” James said, stomping his feet against the floor. “Ohhh… What time is it?”
Jasmine checked her watch and told him the time, and James felt himself break into a cold sweat. It had only been fifteen minutes since he’d last checked. Still over an hour and a half left to wait! “I— I’m not allowed to go until my break, and that’s almost two hours from now,” he rushed out in a panic. “I’m not gonna make it!”
He half expected Jasmine to tease him. But, she didn’t. “You’re not,” she agreed. But, she hadn’t said it to be mean. She was just stating a fact. James’s bladder was not going to last much longer. He was barely hanging on by a thread. “Just try sneaking to the bathroom,” Jasmine suggested.
“She said if I get caught she’s gonna write me up,” James told her. “I don’t want to be in trouble, and I—“ he was interrupted by another squirt of pee. “Ooooh! I can’t hold it!”
“Then, go and—“ Jasmine stopped herself. James never broke rules at school, even the really, really stupid ones. She didn’t think he’d behave any differently here. “Oh, I know. Go get the cleaning cart. Go and ‘clean the customers’ bathrooms’.”
That WOULD be a good idea, if James didn’t know that they’d just been scrubbed not too long ago. He’d seen someone wheeling the cleaning cart out of them as he’d clocked in. “No, they were just cleaned,” he said. “That wouldn’t work. I just have to wait.” As soon as he’d said that, he suffered the most painful spasm of his life. It felt like his bladder was being squeezed in a juicer and being trampled on at the same time. It was an absolutely obscene level of pressure, and his hands flew back between his legs as he curled in on himself. “Ohhh… Ohhhhh my Goddddd, I need to peeeeee!” he hissed out between his clenched teeth.
“James,” Jasmine said. “I could cover for you? Maybe that would— No, wait. I know.”
“What?” James asked, his voice suddenly very high and shaky.
Jasmine gestured to the full trash bags resting by the rear exit door. “You and I are gonna take those to the dumpster.”
James stared at her. “H—How does that— I can’t lift stuff. My hands are— I can’t move ‘em right now.”
“It will help, I promise,” Jasmine said, leading him to the bags.
Celia came out of her office and saw them there. “Did you figure out the fries finally?”
“Oh, yes,” Jasmine said. “James was a big help. He’s gonna help me carry the trash out now. I need a big, strapping young man to help me lift stuff.”
James felt a snort of laughter bubbling in his chest, one which would spell disaster if he let it out. He clamped his teeth down and fought it back.
“Good,” Celia said. “None of you take the trash out often enough. I’m tired of the bags all piling back here.”
“Sorry,” Jasmine said.
Celia walked back towards the dining area.
“Okay,” Jasmine said, hoisting a bag. “You don’t ACTUALLY have to carry one right now, don’t worry. Just, come on.” She pushed the door open with her shoulder and James scrambled out after her.
So many things outside looked like urinals to James’s clouded, desperate brain. The trees and bushes all seemed to be begging to be watered. The wall looked inviting and relieving… He shook his head as he followed Jasmine towards the dumpster.
The dumpster was tucked away in a small enclosure a few yards behind the building, three tall walls surrounded it. Jasmine tossed the bag she was carrying up, and it slammed into the dumpster. “Okay,” she said. “Go ahead.”
James stared at her, confused. “A—And do what?”
“You know…” Jasmine smiled again and laughed softly. “Go ahead and ‘tinkle’. Just go next to the dumpster, okay? Between it and one of the walls, you’ll be really well hidden.”
James’s grip on himself tightened and he marched in place, legs repeatedly crossing over one another. “Won’t I be in trouble?”
“You won’t,” Jasmine said. “Nobody’s even gonna know you did this. Now, hurry, before you have an accident.”
James moved as fast as his exhausted, aching body would allow into one corner of the enclosure. It smelled horrendous back here, but maybe that was a good thing. Nobody who came over here would smell his urine. And there were already some puddles around the dumpster too. Nobody would know…
Before he’d made the conscious decision to go through with this, he was already tugging at his zipper, ripping it down. One hand flew into his open pants and he cringed as he felt the damp material of his boxers that were only growing more and more sodden by the second. He yanked his drippy cock free, and his stream exploded out of him before he’d aimed. It sloshed hard against his shoes before he was able to adjust himself so he was wetting the wall instead. “Ahhhhhhhhhh….” James moaned, then crammed a fist into his mouth to silence himself. If he kept up that racket, he COULD be caught!
Even now that he was letting it flow, the ache inside his body was still present. His bladder felt as sore as his legs always did after running too fast in gym class. It still felt so good it let it out, of course. His muscles, which had been pulled taut for so long, suddenly snapped and began to go very, very loose. He was pissing so forcefully he swore he saw paint peeling off the wall. And the sound of it spraying away really DID sound like the oil hissing in the fryer. The very sound that had been torturing him now made him feel euphoric with release.
With as mind-numbing as the relief was, James barely even remembered to count off the number of seconds he was peeing for. He did though. And he was shocked as all Hell when he made it all the way to sixty. Wow, he HAD been full! His stream finally tapered off to a little trickle, and at long last he was emptied. He fumbled his member back into his pants and zipped them up, staggering backwards against the dumpster and leaning into it in a daze. Wow, wouldn’t Celia be mad! He was leaning AND he’d peed! Two rules broken!
“Haaaahhhh…” he exhaled. “That feels so much better!” He walked out of the enclosure to find Jasmine still waiting on him. “Thank you!” he said, his happy, friendly tone back. “Thank you, thank you!”
Jasmine gave him a small, hesitant smile. “You’re welcome,” she said.
Once they had finished with the rest of the bags and had gone back inside, James wondered if he ought to keep acting like he really, really needed a toilet break in front of Celia. She probably would get suspicious if he was suddenly fine, she’d figure out he’d found some way to relieve himself. He made himself squirm whenever Celia was nearby just to be safe, and it felt very strange to do a pee-dance when he didn’t actually have to go.
By the time his break rolled around though, he wasn’t really acting that much anymore. He genuinely DID need the toilet pretty badly again. His bladder filled up fast, and even faster after it had been stretched to its limit like that. As soon as he had clocked out for his break, he was hurrying to the restroom. Celia, again, stopped him. “What are you doing?”
“It’s my break,” James said. “And I need to use the bathroom.”
“Well, I need to discuss something with you,” Celia said.
James’s heart sank and his bladder trembled. She’d found out about the dumpster somehow. She must have. Maybe a security camera picked him up. She was gonna yell at him… “Wh—What?”
“A customer came to me earlier today,” Celia said. “To make a complaint. Apparently, I’m not treating you correctly in regards to toilet breaks.”
‘Mabel,’ James thought. So, she HAD said something.
“I don’t need to tell you how inappropriate it is to tell a customer that you need the potty,” Celia said. “Don’t let this happen again.”
James nodded. He wished that something Mabel had said had gotten through to Celia, but apparently not. He scrambled out from under her gaze and locked himself in the employee bathroom. He liked it in here. He could be away from Celia in here. And, more importantly, there was a toilet, which he quickly got himself in front of and unzipped. His pants still felt damp from his earlier emergency, but he didn’t care too much about that anymore. He was finally going to get to use an actual toilet, he was finally going to relieve himself in a way that couldn’t get him into trouble.
His stream gushed out for half a minute, and then he shook himself off and sighed as he washed his hands. This… Wasn’t normal, was it? Mabel hadn’t seemed to think it was, and she was older so would know a lot about how things were supposed to work. Maybe there was some rule Celia was breaking. Maybe there were a lot of rules she was breaking.
James ate his lunch, and before he went back to work, he relieved his worn-out bladder one more time. He knew that, by the time his shift was over and he could go home, he would probably be bursting again, but wanted to give himself a chance at making it through without pain.
By the time his shift ended, he’d had three more leaks and just barely made it to the toilet. Then, his Mom had picked him up. And, even though the drive back to his house was short, he almost wet himself during it as well.
Mom noticed James squirming, recognizing the familiar pee dance he’d done ever since he was little. “James, sweetie, did you forget to use the restroom before you left work?”
James shook his head, “No, I did use it,” he said.
“You’re doing a lot of fidgeting…” Mom said.
“That’s because I have to go again,” James said.
“We’ve only been driving for fifteen minutes.”
“I know…” James said, shifting in his seat. This was ridiculous, even for him. Did getting desperate like that shrink his bladder even more somehow? “But, I DID go right before I left, I promise.”
“Okay…” Mom said. “If you’re sure.”
James nodded and hoped the rest of the drive would pass quickly. Once they reached home, James was clutching himself. He tore off his seatbelt and was jumping out of the car before it had stopped moving. He raced inside and into the bathroom, incredibly thankful none of his siblings were already in there. He fumbled his zip down once more, freed his cock and—
OUCH!
OUCH!!
WHY!?
As his stream spilled forth, instead of mind-blowing relief, he felt like he was passing thorns and red pepper flakes through his urethra. It HURT. And, even though he’d felt ready to blow, he was totally done in under ten seconds. When he zipped back up, he ALREADY felt an urge to go yet again!
He was confused, and very scared.
James needed his Mom.
He hurried back outside, where Mom was only just getting out of the car herself. “James,” she said. “Don’t jump out of a moving car no matter HOW bad you need the—“
“Something’s wrong!” James interrupted. “I peed, and it really hurt.”
“…What?”
“It stung and burned a lot,” James said. “And, I had to go really bad but then hardly anything came out? And it still feels like I need to go.”
Mom stared at him, “Must we discuss this outside, sweetie?”
“I’m scared,” James said. “Something’s wrong with me.”
“Come in,” Mom told him, heading back inside. James followed her. “Sweetie, everything you just said is exactly what happened to me when I got a urinary tract infection. Have you been drinking enough water?”
James thought that after today he’d been drinking way too MUCH water! “I think so, I drink lots.”
“Have you been… Cleaning yourself properly… Everywhere?”
James blushed. “Y—Yeah,” he said.
“When you need the toilet, do you go right away?”
“A—As soon as I can,” James said. “But, today I… Um. Mom, is it normal that my boss doesn’t let me use the bathroom when I really, really have to go?”
Mom kept staring at him. “…No, James. That’s not normal at all. Did something like that happen?”
James nodded and recounted the story of the day, explaining how close he’d come to having an accident, how Celia had refused him a restroom break and had mocked him for requesting one, how Mabel had seemed so concerned, how he’d needed a co-worker to help him get relief. “And, I know it’s bad that I peed behind the dumpster, but I couldn’t help it, and—“
“It’s… It’s not bad, James,” Mom interrupted. “With everything else you’ve told me, I don’t think you had much of a choice in that. Do you know who Celia’s boss is?”
James shook his head. He’d assumed Celia didn’t have a boss of her own…
“We need to find that out,” Mom said. “In the meantime, I think you should call off sick.”
“But—“
“You ARE sick, James,” Mom said. “You have an infection. And if you’re being denied toilet breaks at work like this, you’re not going to recover very quickly. You don’t need to deal with Celia right now. You need rest and plenty of water, and to stay close to a bathroom.”
***
“So, then my Mom found out who was in charge of Celia and we made a complaint. And she got fired because Mom was gonna sue,” James concluded. “Which I felt bad about.”
Ethan squeezed James’s hand. “Why? She was horrid to you.”
“Yeah, but she still needs money for food and stuff,” James said.
Ethan sighed. James was such a sweetheart, even to people who seriously didn’t deserve it. “Well. She’d better hope I never meet her,” he said. His heart had been aching so much for James throughout the story; Picturing the poor thing crying in the walk-in freezer had been gut-wrenching. It was mind-boggling to Ethan that anyone could treat James that way. He was James! The most lovable person in the world! How could anyone possibly hate him? Indeed, to most people. To most normal, decent people, James WAS lovable. “I’m glad everyone else was so nice to you that day, though. That must have helped.”
“It did,” James said. He snuggled against Ethan’s chest. “And I like my new boss a lot better than Celia…”
Ethan ran a hand down James’s body. “Heh, I’m glad…” |
After that, James continued telling Ethan stories of his past desperate experiences. Thanks to his tiny bladder, he had a lot of them. Ethan would sometimes ask him for specific stories. “What’s the worst you’ve ever had to go? Or was I there for that?”
James considered. “Hmm… I think the day we went to the museum is the worst I’ve had to go in a very long time,” he said. “It was definitely the longest I’ve ever held it for. And, for sure, the best I’ve ever felt letting it out!”
“Second worst?” Ethan asked.
“I think that was the time the ski lift got stuck…” James said. “Remember?”
Ethan nodded. He could never forget that day, how both of them had ultimately ended up not making it in time… How nice it had felt to have James cuddle him and praise him as he let go into his pants. “Third worst?”
“Oh, that was probably the first day I was working for you,” James said.
Ethan stared at him. “What?”
“You couldn’t tell!?” James asked, surprised.
“You…” Ethan kept looking at James, thinking back to his first day as his assistant, where he’d given a very long explanation to James about how he wanted everything to be organized. James had been shifting around a lot, he recalled. But, it had never crossed his mind that James was just in need of a toilet break. He’d thought it was just nerves… If he’d known THAT was what had been bugging him, he would have let him know that he could use the restroom… “You needed to pee then?”
James nodded, “REALLY bad. And you kept asking SO many questions, and I could barely think of how to answer!”
Ethan frowned. Now he felt terrible! “Why didn’t you tell me you had to go?”
James laughed. That had been ages and ages ago now, it was so cute Ethan was getting flustered about it anyway. “I was nervous,” James said. “I thought it would be bad to interrupt you, and I thought you’d tell me no anyway since we were in the middle of something.”
“I wouldn’t do—“
“I know that NOW,” James said. “But, I didn’t then, so I just tried to hold it. But, that wasn’t easy!”
In hindsight, now Ethan thought it was pretty obvious that James had been bursting for a pee during his entire spiel that day. James’s knees had been knocking, his feet had been tapping, he’d gotten pretty tense when Ethan poured himself some coffee… If he could go back in time he’d ask James if he needed the toilet and tell him it was alright to go…
But, beyond the memory of James’s now clear pee-dancing, Ethan could also recall that James had stayed right at his desk after Ethan had left him alone to start working… James had stayed there a long time, fidgeting and bouncing his knees up and down. James had stayed there until Ethan had told him it was time for lunch, only then did he get up and scurry to the restroom. “Why did you keep holding it after I’d finished talking to you?”
“Because I didn’t know if it was okay to ask for a break, or if I was allowed to get up.”
“You’re always allowed t—“
“I didn’t know that then,” James said. “I thought it would be unprofessional and that you’d get annoyed if I asked for a break as soon as I was supposed to start working. I was scared you’d think I was trying to slack off or something.”
Poor James… He must have thought Ethan was going to treat him like Celia had. And, now he suddenly remembered the very first time James had asked him for a bathroom break. James had been working for him for a couple weeks, and Ethan had noticed how antsy James always was right before lunch and just before he was supposed to leave, but he’d always assumed his new assistant was just nervous. He’d even advised James to take a few deep, calming breaths during those days to settle himself, something Ethan knew now must have only hurt his bladder.
But, one day, James was even more restless than usual. Ethan noticed James’s hands twitching as he typed up his schedule, and when he’d gone into the office with a patient, he kind of heard James whimper a little… Once Ethan had finished the appointment and the patient had left, James looked at him with the widest eyes Ethan had ever seen. He looked like he was fighting not to cry, and before Ethan could ask if he was okay, he was speaking; “I’m so, so, so sorry! May I please go use the restroom? Please? I promise I’ll be fast!”
Ethan had been taken aback, he was surprised James thought he needed to request permission for that… “O—Of course you can,” he said.
James’s eyes, still big and watery, began to close as he gave Ethan a tense smile, “Thank you, thank you! I promise, I’ll be right back, I promise! Then, he’d hurried from his desk and ran straight for the bathroom, leaving Ethan a little confused by what had just happened.
It made sense now. James had apparently been certain for weeks that Ethan would be angry with him just for needing to pee and would refuse to allow him to do it… He thought back to the very first holding game they’d played, how the whole concept had involved Ethan cruelly denying James what he needed and ordering him to keep working instead. How interesting that something which was apparently a great source of anxiety for James had become a part of his fantasies.
“I think I get it,” Ethan said.
“Get what?”
“Why you wanted me to prevent you from peeing that time,” Ethan explained. “When you wanted me to pretend to be a really controlling boss.”
“I just thought it would be fun,” James said.
“But, you had a traumatic incident where your boss wouldn’t let you pee, one that led to you getting sick,” Ethan said. “Then, when you started to work for me, you were so scared I’d do the same thing that you made yourself hold it. Being denied the restroom when you really need it is something you have anxiety about, isn’t it?”
James thought about it, and realized that Ethan was right. His little bladder always filled up SO fast, so yes, not having access to a toilet or any other suitable receptacle made him nervous. He knew he’d certainly be having an emergency before long. He knew he might end up not being able to wait. So, when someone told him ‘No’ when he asked if he could pee, he did get very stressed out. When someone said he ‘could just hold it’, it made him upset because he KNEW he couldn’t. Sometimes, he got anxious about asking someone for the toilet, because what if they told him ‘no’ and then he had an accident? “It… Is,” he said. “I guess I never really thought about it, though… Heh, guess it’s weird I wanted you to do that to me, then.”
“Not at all,” Ethan assured him. “Like I said, I get it now. It actually makes a lot of sense you’d want me to do that; You wanted me to recreate a bad thing that happened to you, but in an environment where you could actually have control over it, and with someone you trusted. You thought it would be fun, yes. But I think some part of you realized it would also help you feel better about something that bothers you.”
“Ohh,” James said, considering that. A lot of his fantasies were actually based off of emergencies he’d had in the past, emergencies that had been painful or embarrassing for him. But in his fantasies the bad elements were removed and replaced with Ethan. No one was being cruel to him, no one was laughing, no one was teasing, he was just holding it in and then enjoying the feeling of letting it out…
One of the most embarrassing days of his life had happened in fifth grade. His class had gone to the zoo on a field trip, and on the way back there had been a horrific amount of traffic. James had tried his best to make it, but he’d drank two big cups of juice at lunch and he just couldn’t hold them back. He’d soaked himself right there on the bus, his whole class watching as he lost control over himself. A lot of them laughed…
Yet, one thing he loved to imagine was him and Ethan being on a bus together, getting caught in traffic, and James not being able to wait. He liked to picture Ethan holding him close as his pee spilled out of him, cuddling him and telling him it was all okay, no laughing or jeering…
So, James thought Ethan was right. A big element of James’s interest in desperation was a need to gain back some of the control that had been taken from him by his tiny bladder and the cruelty others sometimes showed him in regard to it. “When… When I asked you to pretend to be a mean boss, I kind of wanted it to end with you holding me and saying stuff like ‘I’m so sorry, James! I guess you really DID need to pee! I’ll never make you do that again, I promise.’”
Ethan thought that over. Maybe if James had mentioned that part to him before, that he would be allowed to be nice and kind to his partner in the end, he wouldn’t have been so anxious through all of it. “We could… Try it again,” Ethan said. “I really don’t think I can be as mean as Celia was, but I can DEFINITELY do that ending part for you.”
James stared at his boyfriend, astonished. “Y—You want to make me hold it?!” he asked in complete disbelief.
“Y—Yeah,” Ethan said. “We can try that again. Like I said, I really can’t figure out how to be mean to you, but—“
James grabbed Ethan and squeezed him, “You don’t have to be super mean or rude!” he said. “You can do this whatever way makes you feel best!”
“O—Okay,” Ethan nodded hesitantly. “Did you want me to make you… Um… Wait for ‘too long’?”
“Yeah,” James said. “But, don’t worry, I’ll go stand in the bathtub or something when I’m about to burst. I won’t make a mess.” He clapped his hands together repeatedly. “Ah! I’m so excited!”
And, to his surprise, Ethan was excited too. James was really cute when he got squirmy… Now, if only he could think of a way to order James around that didn’t make him feel like such an awful, horrible jerk.
James went to the kitchen and drank several glasses of water as quickly as he could. He stopped when his stomach started to feel off. To James, one of the hardest things about holding it for fun was that drinking a ton of water super fast tended to make him feel bloated and nauseas before it made him feel desperate to go.
He was okay though, he returned to the living room and smiled at Ethan. “Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna have to pee REAL bad soon.”
Ethan was stunned by how that statement was making him feel, he could hardly believe how much he was looking forward to seeing James wriggle… He thought it was the look in James’s eyes that he liked best; His pupils got so huge, so full of need and eagerness. Or, maybe it was the way he sucked in his breath, short and shallow and rapid. Or, perhaps it was how he jiggled up and down so quickly he ought to have been making himself dizzy…
Oh, who was Ethan kidding, desperate-to-pee James was just cute all over!
“S—So, what do I do?” Ethan asked.
“Pretend we’re at work, and you’re my tough boss, and I have to have your permission to go,” James said. “Like last time, only you don’t have to act all mean since you didn’t like that part.”
Ethan nodded, “Okay…” he hoped he could do this. He really wanted to see James burst, and he knew James WANTED to burst. He just had to come up with ways to deny him relief that didn’t feel cruel.
James took one of the armchairs and Ethan sat on the couch. They watched something on TV for a while, but Ethan wasn’t paying attention to it. He was too busy watching James. It was interesting how much faster James filled up compared to himself. Ethan could have a few glasses of water and be okay for a couple hours before he needed to start planning for a pee break. James could have a few glasses of water and find himself squirming within the hour.
Ethan saw the first sign of James’s need rather quickly when his partner suddenly brought one of his feet up into the chair with him and rocked himself against it. He watched as James bounced in his seat, watched as he squirmed with his face going pink. Several minutes later, James piped up, “Um… Sir?” he asked.
An awkward grin spread across Ethan’s face. James didn’t even call him ‘sir’ when they were ACTUALLY at work… “Yes, James?”
“I need a bathroom break,” James said. “May I go?”
And, once again, Ethan had to fight down his baser instincts, the ones that screamed at him to say “Of course you can go, James! I want you to be comfortable!” He managed to keep himself from saying those words, but the problem was he couldn’t think of any OTHER things to say. “Uh— Um…” he floundered, reminding himself again and again that James WANTED to be denied a toilet break right now. But, James was so cute, and so fidgety, and his body clearly NEEDED Ethan to let him pee! James’s body needed Ethan to take him to the restroom and maybe rub his back a little as he drained himself dry…
That did give Ethan an idea.
It probably wouldn’t fit with the ‘tough boss’ persona in James’s fantasy, but it was definitely something Ethan wouldn’t feel bad about doing!
“No,” Ethan said simply. “It is not time to pee right now, James. You have too much work to do.”
The tremble in James’s lip made Ethan want to take it all back, made him want to say “Oh, I’m just kidding, James! Go ahead and pee!”
“Wha—What do I have to do?” James asked, fingers curling tensely against the armrests of his seat.
“You haven’t reached your hug quota for the day!” Ethan said. “You need to come over here and let me hold you, or I’m afraid you won’t be doing your job properly. No bathroom breaks until all of your requirements have been met, James.”
And then Ethan saw such a sweet smile on James’s lips, his eyes crinkling with delight as he laughed— and Ethan didn’t miss the way he suddenly tensed his legs even more when he did that. “Heheh, THAT’S your idea of a tough boss?”
Ethan blustered at the teasing, “Th—That’s insubordination, James. Now I’m going to need to hug you even longer as punishment.”
James didn’t stop smiling as he moved to the couch to sit beside Ethan. Immediately, Ethan’s arms were around him and he was nuzzling against him. This wasn’t so hard… It was actually kind of nice. He could feel every shift James made, every time his bladder pulsed and made him tense a part of his body. So close, holding onto him, Ethan was able to tell the precise seconds James’s urge to pee was most insistent.
James thought it was nice too. Ethan was ordering him around, denying him relief… In his own affectionate and loving way. He hoped Ethan was liking it better this time, because James was loving it. It was such a warm, pleasant feeling to be restrained like this, Ethan’s tight embrace physically preventing him from standing up and using the toilet like his bladder kept asking him to.
He hadn’t ever thought about it before Ethan had said something, but now James found his love of desperation kind of interesting as well. Right now, nestling against his partner, with the knowledge that he could stop this at any time if he wanted, and with no danger of actually embarrassing himself, the urgent little tingles encompassing the base of his cock felt really good. But, if instead of being safe and sound on the sofa, he was out somewhere in public and unable to find an available urinal, then the needy throbs warning him that he was getting full would just be stressful.
It really was interesting how the very same feeling could be either pleasant or upsetting depending upon the context.
That feeling was beginning to grow, James’s bladder was starting to really ache. He was about to the point where, if he were doing anything else, he’d be moving towards the toilet as quickly as he could. He shimmied his hips, jostling Ethan.
Ethan snuggled his head against James’s side as he felt his squirming increase. “Hmmm… Someone’s moving around a lot, isn’t he?” he said.
“I have to use the restroom,” James said. Ethan was really pinning him down right now, it was hard to squirm or bounce or cross his legs like he needed to. “Could I?”
“Not yet,” Ethan said, squeezing James harder. “We have a tight schedule today, James. If we don’t finish all the hugging on time, we’ll fall behind.”
James squeaked as Ethan’s arms tightened. The pressure was being exerted directly onto his bladder, making it feel like Ethan was trying to juice him like an orange. Was he doing that on purpose? James hoped so… That would mean Ethan was really having fun teasing him. James tensed his thighs up as he fought back the wicked spasms Ethan’s actions were sending through him. He really wanted to hold himself, but he couldn’t manage to get his own arms free of Ethan’s embrace. “I really, really have to tinkle, though…”
Ethan’s arms eased up, and James exhaled a small breath of relief.
Ethan knew he was blushing deeply now. James had said… That again. It was just such an adorable way to phrase it, and something about it spoke so deeply to Ethan’s caring instincts. For whatever reason, it made James sound so absolutely helpless to Ethan’s ears… And, because of that, it made it even harder for him to keep saying no.
‘He wants you to say no,’ Ethan reminded himself. He needed another way to deny him… “N—No, James,” he managed. “We have too much to do, there’s no time for you to tinkle, so you’re going to have to wait.”
James bounced in his seat, a particularly sharp, hot twinge making his whole body jerk. “B—But… What do we have to do?”
Ethan tried to think of something else… “Uh… You… You haven’t kissed me at ALL yet today! How unprofessional!”
James, again, started to laugh. By that point, his bladder was full enough that his giggles caused it to contract hard. He felt liquid begin to pump down the pipe of his penis, felt a little spurt bloom warm and wet over the crotch of his boxers. His snickering was interrupted by a little wincing groan, “Ooohh…”
Ethan released him and sat back, afraid he’d done something to hurt or upset James. “Are you okay?”
“A little bit just came out…” James admitted, allowing a hand to go between his legs, pressing his still dribbling cock against the inside of his thigh. His flow halted after a moment. “I stopped it…”
Ethan stayed still, “You want to keep going?”
“Of course,” James said with a smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m SUPPOSED to leak, remember?”
“Heh… Right…” Ethan nodded. Warmth was rushing through his veins, pooling scorching hot in his belly. “N—Now, you need to kiss me, remember?”
“Of course,” James said, leaning closer to his partner.
Ethan took James into his arms once more, their lips locking together. Ethan could feel the tension present in James’s jaw as his tongue explored his mouth. Ethan could feel the way his boyfriend’s lip trembled. Ethan could feel James’s desperation as clearly as if it were his own. Or, maybe it was the coffee he’d had that morning making him feel that way.
Uh oh.
It was DEFINITELY the coffee that was making Ethan’s bladder ache…
Remembering what had happened the first time they tried this, Ethan wanted to avoid repeating the mistake and having an accident of his own. The second time James had held it for him, he’d relieved himself in the midst of the game, but he’d felt just awful about it… He parted his lips from James’s and tried to think of what to do.
Ethan’s bladder was getting pretty uncomfortable, sitting full and round in the middle of his body and doing its best to stretch out. He started to tense his thighs together, wondering if maybe he could just wait this out until after the game was completed. An annoying little jab right at his opening told him that he might not be able to do that.
Watching as James jiggled and bounced in his seat, seeing the panic and need on his face, made Ethan’s desire to urinate even stronger. It was as if James’s desperation was contagious, and that thought gave Ethan pause.
Sometimes, he could care for another person so strongly that, when they were hurt, he felt the pain as well. Of course, he knew that was completely psychological. Seeing James flinch after accidentally cutting his finger and feeling his own finger throb in sympathy did not mean Ethan was actually injured.
Maybe then, he didn’t ACTUALLY have to go right now. Maybe it was just his brain playing tricks on him since he was so locked onto what James was experiencing at the moment.
“D…Did you want more kisses?” James asked. He’d been having fun kissing Ethan, it had even gotten his mind off his bladder for a bit. But, now that he had nothing else to occupy himself with, all James could feel were the ripples of need shooting through him.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Come here…” And they were back to it.
James melted into Ethan, occasionally rocking against him in an attempt to put a little more pressure onto his straining crotch. He was having so much fun! His body was pleading with him, its voice growing louder and louder. It was demanding him to stop everything he was doing and relieve himself. But, James just stayed where he was, kept kissing Ethan, and told his body that HE was the one in charge right now, and HE wanted to hold it until Ethan said it was time to let it out.
Ethan ran his hands down James’s back, stroking him gently. His own thighs kept squeezing more and more. His urge for the toilet was definitely not just inside his head. He really did have to go. He had to go pretty badly, at that. He thought back to the last time he’d released his bladder, which had been early on in the morning, and several hours ago now. He’d been standing at the toilet, letting it flow freely. James was beside him and talking to him, “Wow, Ethan, that’s a lot! Were you having a pee dream last night?”
And, Ethan had thought about it. “I did, actually. You and I were in this massive line for a restroom, and I was barely holding on. Then, when I finally got in there, all the stalls had these fancy, leather chairs in them instead of toilets. I had to go so badly that I tried not to think about it and just pee on the chair, but it felt so weird that I couldn’t do it.”
James had laughed, and Ethan’s stream had receded a moment later as he shivered. That had felt so good, releasing everything that had accumulated during the night… He wanted to feel that way again. He HAD to feel that way again…
He pulled away from James once again. “J…James…” he said. This was such a tough thing to do! But, Ethan didn’t have a choice. Already his knee was bouncing and the door to the restroom that he could see behind James’s head was much too tantalizing for him to ignore. “I… Um…”
As soon as Ethan had parted from him and stopped providing him with a distraction, James’s need ratcheted up considerably. It suddenly felt like he was having a mallet slammed into his bladder over and over and over again. It felt like a fifty pound canon ball had just been blasted right against his stomach. He doubled over on himself, hands clinging tightly to his dick. “Ooohhh…” he moaned. “M—May I use the bathroom now, please?”
Ethan froze. His chest clenched. James was looking at him with those big, urgent eyes. James needed him to say ‘yes’ so much right now… But, at the same time, James wanted him to say ‘no’. Ethan’s own bladder pulsed more tyrannically inside him and he grit his teeth together. He had to go. He had to go. He really, really had to go.
But, now that James had begged him for relief yet again, Ethan felt even WORSE about going to get it for himself! ‘He wants you to tease him,’ Ethan reminded himself. ‘He wants you to say no and make him wait.’ James may have wanted to be forced to wait, but Ethan’s bladder sure didn’t. “N…No,” he said finally. “Not yet… I…”
James, his hands still glued against his crotch, his legs coiling together as he fantasized about finally being able to pee, picked up on a sudden change in Ethan’s demeanor. So far, he’d been smiling and watching James’s squirming intently. He’d been laughing and happy to give James little, sweet tasks as he held it in.
But, now Ethan was acting like he had the first time. He was acting uncomfortable and uncertain, seemingly scared of doing something wrong and hurting James. “Ethan…? You okay?” he asked.
Of course, James was able to tell something was wrong with him. James could ALWAYS tell when Ethan had something bugging him. “Um… James?” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. He didn’t know why, they were the only people here. He just had to do SOMETHING to get rid of some of the awkwardness he felt. “I… Er… I… I… Have to go. It’s sort of bad…” Ethan said.
James, not daring to release his cock from his tense grasp, nodded. “Okay…”
“Is that…” Ethan said. “I really don’t want to be cruel to you, James. I can hold it until after we’re—“
“You can go,” James said, and even through the strain in his body he was breathing a little easier. Ethan was fine, just needed some reassurance again. “Really. It’s okay.”
Ethan started to stand up, wincing at the change in gravity, it felt like something was trying to pull his urine right down his shaft and against the Earth. “Are… You sure?”
“I’M the one that’s supposed to hold it today,” James told him. “Not you. If you’ve gotta go, you can go.”
Ethan still hesitated, he swayed back and forth between his feet. If they’d been doing anything else right now, he would have been bolting for the toilet to unload. His body was screaming at him to do exactly that. “I… I don’t want to be mean.”
“It’s NOT mean,” James tried to explain, but he knew that his current appearance must have made Ethan feel like using the bathroom right now would make him an enormous jackass. James was twisting up on himself, and could feel tears in the corners of his eyes from all the strain. “You can go! I—“ James was interrupted by a sudden burst of liquid wetting his tense palms. “Nnnh… I… I want to watch, too!”
“You…” Ethan went still for a second, surprised. But then his bladder got him hopping up and down again. “You want to watch NOW?”
“Yessss!” James hissed between his clenched teeth. “Please, Ethan? It would be fun!”
“O—Okay,” Ethan said. “If you want to…”
James first obstacle was standing up from the couch. He approached the task with some trepidation, certain that if he did it wrong, he would pop and have pee running down his leg for sure. Ethan helped him onto his feet, a few threatening pulses throbbed and throbbed away at his aching opening. He squeezed himself for dear life to keep anything from actually coming out, and he succeeded.
Ethan kept a hand on James’s shoulder as they moved slowly to the restroom. Ethan wished they could get their faster, his bladder was so eager to see the toilet, but he knew going too fast would make James wet the carpet— Something neither of them wanted to have happen.
In the restroom, Ethan stood in front of the toilet, his hands fluttering nervously around his zipper. He turned to James, seeing the other man coiling around on himself, almost kneeling against the floor. “You’re sure…?” he asked one more time.
“I’m sure!” James encouraged. “Go pee, Ethan!”
Ethan pulled down his zipper and freed his cock, aiming down into the bowl. ‘James wants you to do this,’ he assured himself. But, this was drowned out by all his other thoughts. ‘This is cruel! James needs this so much more than you do!’
And, those thoughts made Ethan grow tense. So tense in fact, that he couldn’t get his stream to come out. It wasn’t a wholly unfamiliar feeling; An anxious bladder was rare for him, but it had definitely happened before and would certainly happen again. It was an awful feeling, to need to do something so badly and yet have his own body stop him from doing it. He was grateful that he seldom needed to endure this, but when it DID happen he would sometimes start seething from the frustration.
“Ethan…?” James asked, now sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, rocking in place. “You can—“
“I can’t,” Ethan blurted out. “I’m… It’s not working. I feel all—“
“Oh,” James interrupted, catching on immediately. A weight formed in his stomach, one that pressed all too firmly into his bladder. He needed to just accept that Ethan didn’t have it in him to play a game like this. It stressed him out way too much, and now it was making his body hurt… “We can stop,” he said. “If it’s making you too nervous, we don’t need to—“
“No, no,” Ethan said. “We don’t have to quit. I have been having fun today, I promise. Just… This part… It feels SO mean, James.”
“You AREN’T being mean,” James said. “You’re doing what I want.”
Ethan knew that, of course he knew that. He knew that playing this game with James WAS taking care of him, even if it didn’t feel like it right now. Ethan sighed finally, having a new idea. He knew EXACTLY how to relieve his own bladder, AND make James’s burst without making himself feel like a cruel, uncaring monster. He started to pull his pants down his legs.
“What—“
“Change of plans, James,” Ethan said. “Turns out there’s no time for EITHER of us to pee. We’re behind schedule!” Once his pants had been removed, he yanked off his shirt. “We HAVE to shower together NOW if we want to stay on track!”
James flinched. Just the thought of all that warm, rushing water… “B—But, I won’t be able to hold it,” in spite of his protests, he was gingerly crawling to his feet.
“You’ll have to try!” Ethan said. “I’m sure you can do it!”
“I’ll… I’ll try…” James loved showering with Ethan, and the sight of his now totally nude body was making James’s cock throb in a new way. He yanked his hands away from his crotch and winced. He didn’t think that moving them above his head to get his shirt off would do anything worse than taking them off his dick already HAD, but he was wrong. Very, very, very wrong! Stretching out like that also stretched out the skin over his bladder, and made it feel even more like it was going to sear a scorching hole straight through his flesh. Once his shirt was gone, he unbuttoned his pants. He moaned as a tsunami of taut skin was suddenly granted more space to splay out. He allowed his pants to fall around his ankles. “O—Okay, I’m ready.”
“Good boy,” Ethan said, starting to jiggle in place again. ‘You only have to hold it until you’re under the water…’ he reminded himself.
Now that they were both naked, they gazed at each other. Ethan watched as James’s dick twitched with need, straining to hold onto his flood. He stared at the painful, swollen bump located just above James’s member. ‘He’ll be peeing soon too,’ Ethan thought. ‘He’ll feel all better.’
Ethan cranked on the water, and the pair both clutched themselves as they listened to it gush. After a few seconds, when Ethan was sure it would be warm, he climbed into the tub and James followed him. The instant the water hit Ethan’s back, he was wincing, but when James felt the warm liquid spray against him, he moaned loud enough for it to echo. He gripped onto his bare dick once again, water drizzling down his body. “Ethan… I have to tinkle so bad…” he whimpered.
“Try and hold it in, okay?” Ethan said. “Let me wash your back.” Ethan rubbed soap against his partner’s skin, feeling the man tremble and shudder underneath his touch. ‘Just let it out,’ he wanted to say. ‘Let it all go…’ But, James continued to hold it. Ethan was actually pretty impressed, this was the longest he’d ever seen James last. “Now, let’s get your hair,” he said, reaching for the shampoo.
Ethan’s own bladder was spasming with confusion. He’d deny it if anyone ever asked, but peeing in the shower was somewhat a routine for him. He tended to need a pee right around the time he showered each evening, and he didn’t see the point in taking more time to use the toilet before getting into the tub when he could just handle both tasks at the same time.
It hadn’t crossed his mind until now that, after so much time doing that, his body had been sort of ‘trained’. Before he’d made it a habit to pee in the shower, running water hadn’t had much of an effect on his ability to hold his pee. Now though, the sound of his shower head spraying, the feeling of warm water streaming down his body, the steam fogging around him and the sight of the tiles on the wall, all signaled to his bladder that it was time to release.
Ethan was not going to allow himself to pee until after James had, though. But, now that he was being hit by so much visual and auditory stimuli, so many things that had prompted his stream to flow in the past, holding it in was extremely difficult. He actually started to spurt a bit as he rubbed the shampoo into James’s hair.
James was still mumbling, “I really, really have to goooo!”
“You can hold it,” Ethan encouraged, because he knew that was what James wanted to hear. ‘Please hurry up and go,’ he thought to himself.
“But I need to tinkle real bad!” James whined as Ethan ran his hands through his hair and worked the shampoo out of it. “I need the toilet, plea—“ his beg died on his lips as a long, long spray of liquid burst forth from his tip. “Ah— Can’t hold it!” he exclaimed as he clamped the flow off. He restrained himself for one second more, and then it was all over, he was gushing for all he was worth, his pee splattering against the floor of the tub. “I can’t… I can’t… Ahhhhhh….” his panicked tone gave way to a deeply relaxed one as he sighed with relief. “That’s sooo much better…”
He was so relieved that he felt his legs start to give out and he allowed himself to crouch down, sitting on his knees as his dick kept spraying away. Some of his release was getting on his skin now, but he didn’t care. It was washing off.
Ethan had been just about to let out his own stream when he saw James collapse. “Y—You okay!?”
“Ahhhhh…” James moaned again. “I’m fine…” His eyes began to shut gently. “Mmmm…”
James was fine. Good.
James was sitting on the floor of the tub and if Ethan started to pee, then it would probably land on him. Not good.
If Ethan had thought it was hard to hold it in with all the USUAL things his shower entailed, then doing it while James rested in front of him, panting and gasping while letting go of a very full bladder, was downright brutal. Ethan was grateful he was naked, it allowed him to get a good, firm grip on his cock, and he did his best to pinch his opening shut. It kind of hurt, but he did NOT want to accidentally urinate on James right now.
Another thing that wasn’t helping was the fact James was sort of… Babbling. “Ohhhh, yesssss… Feels sooo goooood… Soooo much betterrrrrr….” The delight and relief in James’s words and tone were a wicked tease to Ethan. Ethan felt a few more errant spurts shoot into his hands as he waited and waited and waited.
This was probably the most he’d ever seen come out of James. It was even more than he’d let out that day at the museum. Ethan was stunned by the sight of it, amazed James could actually contain so much. He was peeing so violently that Ethan could tell that this was also a GENUINE loss of control right now, James had held it to his absolute limit, he couldn’t have fit even one more drop into his bladder.
And that prompted a new reaction in Ethan. He was imagining how good James must have been feeling, to have all that agony turn into pleasure so suddenly… James also looked… God, he looked like he was cumming. It was the very same face he made when he orgasmed…
At last, the final drops of James’s pee had trickled out. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t hold it anymore.
Ethan released his member and finally allowed his own stream to flow once James stood up. “Aw, it’s okay…” he sighed out. “Look, I couldn’t make it, either…”
James’s eyes trailed down to Ethan’s cock, and at the pee spurting out of its tip. James rubbed Ethan’s back, “Poor thing!” he said. “Guess we both got too busy today, huh?”
“Yeah…” Ethan murmured, so relaxed and happy. It felt wonderful to be letting go, and as had happened so many times now, it wasn’t just his bladder that Ethan was letting go of. Now, he felt himself releasing his fear and trepidation, his anxiety that he would do something to James when they played these games that resulted in him getting hurt or upset. He knew now that he could make James hold it, and he could do it without thinking of himself as a monster.
Ethan then recalled exactly how James had wanted the game to end, and when the last of his pee had gushed to the floor, he said; “I’m so sorry, James! I guess you really DID need to pee! I’ll never make you do that again, I promise.” He held James softly. There was something else he wanted to say. “I mean… Not unless you want me to.”
James beamed, “We can do this again?”
“We can,” Ethan said. “It was fun, I took care of you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” James agreed. “You did a really good job.” |
Written for the Omovember Prompt “Almost Made It”.
It’s been longer than I thought since I last updated this one. I’m sorry for the delay. But, I have a ton of chapters with these guys scheduled to go up in the next couple months. Hope that makes up for it!
***
James had taken Ethan out to his favorite restaurant for dinner to celebrate their anniversary. it was an upscale sea-food place on the other side of town. James liked it a lot, too— Mostly, he liked the fancy water. It was fizzy and had the slightest hint of lemon in its flavor. They couldn’t afford to eat here that often, so James always ended up draining his glass multiple times whenever they did; He just couldn’t get enough of it!
His bladder sure could, though. After they’d finished their appetizer, James was already uncomfortable enough that he wanted to take a toilet break. “Be right back, Ethan,” he said, smirking. “Unless you wanna watch…”
“Heheh,” Ethan laughed. “Not in public, James…”
“I know,” James said. “Just teasing you! Awww, and look how red you are! You DO wanna watch, don’t you?”
Ethan covered his face a little, “N—Not in public,” he repeated.
“Alright,” James said, walking off. His bladder wasn’t too full, but his need felt more urgent now that he was on his way to the toilet. His body seemed to just KNOW that relief was getting close, and he could feel his holding muscles loosening up already. He found that very interesting, how the simple knowledge that he’d be peeing in a moment made him desire to do it even more strongly.
His bladder cramped when he saw the sign on the door to the only restroom in the building; Out of Order.
James stared at it for a second, as if believing that if he watched it for long enough the sign would change and he’d be able to go. That didn’t happen, of course. The sign remained as it was, and the door stayed a solid barrier between him and relief.
Still hopeful, he thought maybe someone had just forgotten to take the sign OFF the door after whatever the problem was had been resolved. He reached out and tugged on the knob, but it didn’t budge. James’s lower stomach gave a light throb, he was going to have a problem if he didn’t pee soon! His bladder always filled up quick!
‘Maybe someone’s just in there,’ James told himself. ‘Try knocking.’ He did this, and then he listened out. But, he didn’t hear anything from inside the room.
The restroom was locked because it was out of order. He wasn’t going to get to use it. He squeezed his thighs together, swaying as he tried to think of what to do. He could go outside, look for somewhere else with a toilet… But, Ethan would get worried if he did that, and he’d hate to miss so much of their date!
He could simply TELL Ethan that he couldn’t use the toilet here, of course. But, again, Ethan would WORRY about him— He’d probably insist they cut the evening short so he could get James to a restroom faster. The last thing James wanted was for to Ethan to forego their special dinner over something like this. Even if Ethan didn’t choose to drop everything to find James a spot to pee, if he KNEW James was still holding it, he’d stress himself out and wouldn’t enjoy the date like James wanted him to.
So, James decided he’d just go back to the table and PRETEND he had peed. Ethan wouldn’t have to worry about something he didn’t KNOW, and James could wait until after dinner. He’d tell Ethan on the drive home that he needed to pee, and then they could stop at a gas station or something. It would be fine.
He headed back to the table and sighed as he sat down. “Ahhhh, much better!” he said. It felt weird to do that when he DIDN’T actually feel better at all, but normally he always told Ethan how relieved he was when he returned from the toilet. It would be suspicious NOT to do it now. Besides, it was worth it just to see the little pink blush in Ethan’s cheeks.
“Heh,” Ethan laughed awkwardly. “I’m glad you’re comfy, James…”
James nodded, and did his best to appear as though he really WAS comfy. He paid careful attention to his feet, not wanting them to tap or cross. He tensed his thigh muscles, but that was something he could do unnoticed so long as he didn’t start jiggling too. The restaurant was dimly lit, so he didn’t worry too much about Ethan noticing if he started to sweat.
Ethan was looking at him very intently, though. Suddenly, he smiled and gave a short laugh.
“What?” James asked, nervous. Had Ethan noticed he still needed to go somehow?
“Nothing… I just…” Ethan looked away. “Can’t believe I got so lucky… Four years with the world’s sweetest guy, and I haven’t driven him away yet.”
James blushed, “I’m the one that’s lucky,” he said. “No one’s ever understood me like you do.”
Ethan reached across the table to grasp James’s hand. “Remember when you asked me out?”
“I remember how many times I had to repeat to you that I was being serious,” James laughed. His mirth shook his bladder, but Ethan’s hand felt so good that he could ignore it. “You kept saying ‘But, why?’ and ‘Are you sure?’”
“Well, I couldn’t believe it,” Ethan said. “I still can’t.”
“Oh, and the first time we kissed,” James said. “And the first thing you said after was ‘I probably did that wrong! I’m sorry!’” He giggled more. “Had to keep telling you that you didn’t mess it up…”
“I just… I felt weird,” Ethan said. “I’m older than you, but you’d been with people before, meanwhile I hadn’t even had my first kiss yet… I was worried you were going to expect me to have all this experience that I just… Didn’t have. But, then when I TOLD you I’d just never kissed anybody before, you were… Ridiculously excited.” Ethan smiled at the memory, James had been so happy to learn that he was Ethan’s first. He’d just lit up and babbled about how that meant he should have kissed him more slowly, made it last longer, made it more special so Ethan would always remember it. But, of course, Ethan WOULD always remember it. Even if had lasted less than a second, he would remember it for the rest of his life, because it had been with James.
Ethan blushed. “Remember the first time we slept together?” he blushed harder. “I— I mean LITERALLY. The first time we literally just… Slept together.”
“You were scared you’d do something embarrassing in your sleep, like start sucking your thumb,” James said.
“Heh, and you were worried that you’d…” Ethan trailed off, mindful of their surroundings. He lowered his voice. “You were worried you’d… ‘Go’ in the sheets since you still did that sometimes…”
James blushed, Ethan’s last comment had returned his attention to his still rapidly filling bladder. He hoped the food came soon so it would be closer to the time when they’d leave… Maybe the restroom was fixed now, though? “Heh, um… Yeah. Speaking of that, I need to go again right now…” He stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute!”
James’s legs were a little stiffer for this second trip to the restroom. The pressure in his middle had grown considerably and walking wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world for him to be doing. Every step drove a little nub of pressure against his opening, made his length tingle with needy pulses. He rounded the corner and frowned deeply when he saw the Out of Order sign still tacked to the door.
Just to be sure, he tried to open it anyway. It refused to move. James’s bladder cramped inside him as he tugged on the doorknob uselessly. He sighed with something that was very far from relief, nervously adjusting his fly.
On his way back to the table, he noticed the waitstaff flitting around and had a thought; The employees had to be here ALL day, and it would just be cruel if their boss made them work for so long without a usable toilet. This place was much too nice to have someone like Celia— James’s old boss— running it.
So, that meant there was probably another toilet for the employees. He should ask to use it. They may say no, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right? He stopped one of the waitresses on her way to a table. “U—Um, excuse me,” he said, shuffling on his feet from a lot more than just embarrassment. “Th—The… Um… The restroom over there is out of order, is there another I can use?”
She shook her head. “We aren’t supposed to let anybody back in the kitchen areas, sorry,” she said. “But, across the street, there’s a store where you should be able to go.”
James glanced to his side, wondering if he should make the walk to the store. It would take a long time… Ethan was waiting. “That’s okay,” he told her. “H—Have a nice evening.”
With that, he headed back to the other side of the dining room where Ethan was sitting.
James blew out a breath as he took his chair. His heavy exhale stretched the walls of his bladder and made his thighs go tenser. “Ahhhh… Much better!” he said, the words feeling extremely odd on his tongue considering his bladder was mid-spasm as he’d said them. He wasn’t better at all! He was fuller than he’d been when he’d left!
“Good,” Ethan said. “You really like the water here, huh?”
“Y—Yeah,” James agreed, wishing he hadn’t fed his addiction to it so generously. Oh, but he had. He’d emptied his glass three times already, and now every drop of that liquid was trapped inside his bladder, pulsing against his sphincters and loudly yelling for release.
“It is tasty,” Ethan said, taking a long, slow sip from his own glass. He glanced back and forth, then spoke in a whisper. “If I’m not careful, I might end up having a little too much…”
James tightened his hands into fists as excitement swirled around with his desperation. “Eheh, oh no…” he said. “That wouldn’t be good!”
Ethan took another sip, “Honestly kinda reminds me of one of our first dates… I was so nervous! Thought I’d say something dumb, so I just kept drinking water so I’d have something else to do with my mouth.”
“I remember that,” James said.
“I remember you staring,” Ethan added. “And, I kept thinking ‘God, he can tell you’re an anxious wreck! Calm down!’ But… That’s probably not ALL that you were thinking, was it?”
James shook his head and looked away. “Nope…” he admitted. “Mostly what I was thinking was ‘Oh, that’s gonna have to come out later!’ And it was hard not to let myself blush or anything. I kept waiting for you to mention that you had to go, but you didn’t. And that actually got me more excited because I realized it meant you can hold a whole lot.”
It was Ethan’s turn to go red. “A—Actually, by the end of the date, when I got back in my car to go home— I was so desperate that I needed to… To ‘refill’ an empty bottle I’d left in there before I could even THINK about trying to drive.”
James blinked at him. He remembered that night so well! He’d been watching Ethan CLOSELY for any sign that the water needed to come back out, and hadn’t noticed a thing! “You were?” he asked. “But, you didn’t SAY anything! And you were acting so… Normal.”
“I was nervous about making a bad impression,” Ethan reminded. “So, I just felt super grateful for the long table-cloth so I could cross my legs and hold myself unnoticed.”
James felt grateful for the long tablecloth shielding his legs right now, too. He couldn’t stop his knees from jiggling and he didn’t want to make Ethan worry.
“And… I couldn’t make myself stop drinking the water, so I was just making it so much worse. When we got up to leave… God, I thought I was gonna go right there. Tensed every muscle I had and it was SO hard to walk in a straight line,” Ethan said. “The second we’d parted ways, I was… You know, holding myself and… Doing everything I could to make it to my car in time.”
James sure was sorry he’d missed out on all that! It would have been such a joy to witness. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked. “I’m sure the restaurant we went to that night had a toilet.” His bladder shuddered at his words, reminding him that the one they were at tonight DIDN’T have one of those and that he should seriously stop thinking about pee if he knew what was good for him.
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back in his seat. “L—Like I said, I was nervous about making a bad impression, and I didn’t want to do anything that would make you feel less attracted to me… Figured the last thing you wanted to imagine was me… Peeing.” He laughed. “Funny how wrong I was, huh? Guess if I was worried about turning you on, I should have just told you that I was ready to burst and asked you to come with me.”
“Heh, yeah,” James smiled. “That would have done it… Because, you peeing was basically the ONLY thing I was thinking about that night.”
“And, it sounds like it’s the main thing you’re thinking about TONIGHT too,” Ethan teased him lightly.
“N—No,” James insisted, flustered. “Not the MAIN thing.” Truthfully, the main thing James had been thinking about tonight was HIMSELF peeing, not Ethan. His bladder had gotten pretty swollen. Nervously, he palmed the area directly above his penis, feeling how firm and smooth his lower abdomen was getting, straining to withstand his urge. He crossed his legs beneath the tablecloth— Ethan was right, they were so useful in situations like this one!— and made sure that his cock was squeezed between his thighs. That lessened his need a little bit.
“Oh?” Ethan asked, taking another long, drawn-out sip. “What else is on your mind?”
‘That I’m starting to need to go real bad and the toilet’s broken here!’ James brain screamed. “Um… I’m… Thinking about how nice your eyes look…”
Ethan grinned. “Aw, can you even really SEE them? I’m sure the light from the candles is just putting a ton of glare on my glasses…” he took them off. “Probably got a better view now— Even if I don’t.”
“Heh, put them back on,” James said. “I want you to be able to see me!” Although, he wasn’t sure how much he really MEANT that. It was getting trickier not to squirm!
Twenty minutes later and the food had arrived, immediately the conversation dwindled as Ethan enjoyed his oyster pasta. James liked his grilled shrimp too, but it was a little hard for him to eat. His legs were pressing much more tightly against one another and the base of his cock was throbbing with irritation. He kept clenching his sphincters as tightly as he could, but the shrimp was also a little spicy and necessitated him drinking more water from his glass. He tried his best NOT to put any more fluid into his body until he’d figured out what to do with everything that was already there, he couldn’t help himself, though!
“Mmmf, thank you for this, James,” Ethan said. “You really make me feel special.”
“Y—You are special,” James told him. “Oh, did you know oysters are… Um… They’re, like… An aphrodisiac, or something? Is that true?”
“I think so,” Ethan said, reaching for his water. “But, I bet THIS works better on you than oysters do, right?” He took another drink, draining the glass. “Ah, fourth one tonight,” he informed, as if James HADN’T been keeping careful track of his fluid consumption this evening. “Definitely gonna have to go badly by the time we get home.”
James was going very red in the face. It was rare for Ethan to be so flirty, especially regarding the kinkier aspects of their relationship, and especially in public. But, of course, celebrating four years together was a very special occasion.
James just wished he could enjoy it a little better. It was hard to get THAT excited over the thought of Ethan being ready to explode by the time they arrived home when HE was already getting close to that point himself right here. James squirmed in his chair, sitting on the edge so that his member was pressed firmly against it. His holding muscles remained taut, but the pressure pulsing against them were giving them a really hard time. His feet tapped awkwardly against the floor. “Y—You’re gonna hold it all in until we get home?”
“I think so,” Ethan said. “We’ll see how I feel when it’s time to leave. Already needing it a bit.”
James nodded. HE was already needing it a LOT…
They finished their meals— and Ethan polished off a fifth and sixth glass of water. James was proud of himself for being able to eat everything on his plate even with his swollen bladder causing him such immense discomfort. He’d been really, really hungry and the shrimp had been so delicious he couldn’t let any of it go to waste. Having a full stomach wasn’t so great for his full bladder, though, it seemed to INCREASE the amount of pressure inside his body.
Ethan was tapping his feet much like James was… But he’d turned slightly in his chair so James could SEE his knee bouncing, rather than concealing it beneath the tablecloth. He WANTED James to notice that the water had settled inside his bladder. “That pasta got me thirsty,” he said. “But, I should be more careful! It’s a long drive back home, isn’t it?"
James smiled at him, trying not to THINK about that long drive. There’d be a good place to stop along the way, right? “G—Gotta go?”
“Yeah, quite a bit,” Ethan said. “But, not SO badly that we need to skip dessert.”
James had been considering skipping dessert. He was pretty full after the shrimp, and he wanted to leave sooner rather than later. But, it was their anniversary! Ethan deserved something sweet for BEING so sweet! “Heh, good!” he said.
They agreed on a dessert and settled in to wait for it. Ethan was looking down at his lap, then gazed up at James. “Hope it doesn’t take TOO long, though… I think fizzy water goes through me a bit faster than regular water does.”
James had to agree there… And so did his bladder; a massive spasm slammed into him and, without really thinking about it, he gripped his dick beneath the tablecloth. Immediately, he was staring at Ethan, red-faced. The other didn’t seem to have noticed what he was doing, but the intensity of the moment prompted his bladder to throb much more strongly. He could almost feel the way his skin was stretching out, pulling tauter and tauter by the second. “A—Awww,” he said. “D—Does Ethan need t—to go?”
“He does,” Ethan nodded. “He’ll tell you more about it later, he doesn’t want you to get TOO excited here.”
James reddened even further. One major plus of Ethan teasing him this much, it gave him a very good excuse for why his face was so flushed that had NOTHING to do with the state of his own bladder.
Their fruit tart arrived quickly, which James was relieved about. He ate his portion as fast as he could, prompting another laugh from Ethan. “Heh, wow, you’re eager to get me home, aren’t you?”
James nodded. He was excited to play with Ethan’s bladder, but he needed to empty his own even more.
“Surprised you didn’t eat as slow as you could just so I’d have to wait longer,” Ethan added. “Of course, I bet you don’t plan on letting me pee as soon as we’re home, do you?”
James shook his head, then flinched as a very strong spasm hit him. His breathing picked up in speed and he felt his blush deepening. This was getting bad. This was getting so, so bad… Maybe— Maybe the bathroom would be fixed by the time they were leaving? That would be good… If not, Ethan was going to have to find a good place to stop right away, otherwise James may just go on the car-seat. “Y—You’re going to have to hold it,” he said, more to himself than to Ethan.
“Thought so,” Ethan said. He tapped his foot some more. “Gonna be difficult though, that was a lot of water.”
James nodded. It HAD been a lot of water. TOO much…
They paid for their meals and Ethan stood from his chair. He stretched out, and James wasn’t sure if he’d intended for his shirt to rise and expose the small swell of his bladder or not. Either way, he sure appreciated the view…
James stood up as well, and a rush of pee leaked from his tip— So quickly he hadn’t even had any warning! No chance to tighten his muscles, no chance to react! He put his hand to his crotch, pressing needfully.
Ethan noticed, “Oh… YOU should probably go before we leave,” he whispered. “I— I can wait still, but—“
“I’ll go,” James assured, hoping he’d be able to actually make good on his word. He walked briskly from the dining area, down the hall towards the restroom. It was an impossibility to walk without the aid of his hand grasping his cock, sharp pains bubbled inside his bladder with every step.
Again, he found himself at the door to the toilet. Again, the sign was tacked to it. Again, James gave the doorknob a try anyway. Again, it was locked tight.
Again, James couldn’t pee.
James turned, finding Ethan had joined him. His boyfriend’s eyebrows knit with concern. “O—Oh no,” he said. “Don’t worry, James. I’ll find you somewhere else on the way home.”
James nodded and followed Ethan outside. He looked across the street, seeing the store the waitress had told him about earlier. “I can pee there,” he said, pointing.
Ethan looked too. “It’s closed…The lights are off,” he said. “I’m— I’m sorry. It’s gotten pretty late. But, I’m sure I can find you a place that’s still open! It’ll be alright.”
James frowned, stepping frantically in place before climbing into the car. “O—Okay,” he said. “But hurry… I really gotta go, bad.”
Ethan got into the car beside him and turned it on. He kept one hand on the wheel and let James hold onto the other. They drove quietly for a bit, Ethan on the lookout for any place that was open at this late hour. They passed by plenty of fast food restaurants with lit signs, and James pointed out each one. But, they were drive-thru only so long after dark. James couldn’t actually go inside and use the toilet.
James wriggled and squirmed, squeezing Ethan’s hand tighter and tighter. He noticed Ethan flinch a few times and knew he was squeezing TOO hard, but he couldn’t help it. He had to go so much, and Ethan’s hand was the only thing giving him comfort. James had been holding it for so long that the need to let go was absolutely agonizing. Each bump in the road made his eyes water, and he felt all of them so, so clearly.
Any slight imperfection in the street, the tiniest crack, the smallest pebble, all of it rocked James’s bloated bladder which felt, with every new bounce, like it was about to become TOO bloated for him to withstand. “Th—They’re all only drive-thru?” he asked pleadingly when they went by another place.
“I’m sorry, James,” Ethan said sincerely. “I promise, I’m REALLY trying.”
James didn’t doubt him one bit. There were some gas stations along the road, but only the pumps were running. The stores and the restrooms inside of them were closed. “C—Can I go on the side of the road?” James suggested, shifting his hips like mad as his hand clutched desperately at his crotch.
Ethan considered it. It was dark, it was likely no one would SEE James relieving himself outside. “Y—Yeah, as soon as we find somewhere with some trees I’ll pull over,” he promised.
James would have been content with just letting it go WITHOUT anything to hide behind, but he knew Ethan was only trying to make sure he didn’t get into trouble if he was spotted. He fanned his legs in and out. “O—Okay. Hurry, please?”
“I’m hurrying,” Ethan said. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you…” He squeezed James’s hand. “Everything will be fine.”
Ethan kept searching for a wooded area beside the road, but they were getting so close to their home now that it was mainly residential streets. There WERE bushes outside a lot of the houses, and Ethan caught James eyeing them VERY eagerly, they’d definitely get in trouble if James was caught peeing on someone else’s property, though. “We’re almost there,” Ethan said gently. “You’ve done such a good job holding it…”
That made James feel good, made him a little more determined to KEEP holding it. He recognized where they were now, he knew they were very, very close. He could make it! His breathing was becoming shallower and shallower, but they were too close for him to lose it now!
Five minutes later, they’d pulled into their driveway and James frantically tore off his seatbelt. He’d done it! He’d held all that water ALL the way through dinner, he’d kept it in through the entire drive, and now he was finally, FINALLY going to pee!
Ethan got out of the car after him, and James saw him shuffling his feet, swaying from side to side… He’d actually FORGOTTEN that Ethan had to go as well, they’d both been so focused on getting James his relief. He was gonna have so much fun teasing Ethan while he went!
James rushed to the door. He tried to unlock it, but his hands shook so badly that he couldn’t. It was okay though, Ethan was right there and opened the door for him. He tore inside as fast as he could, already unbuttoning his pants. Ethan followed after him, even if James hadn’t said anything, he knew the other was going to want him to watch in order to torment his bladder for a couple minutes.
James rushed down the hallway, his bladder loosening and loosening with each heavy step, almost there, almost there! He scrambled into the restroom, trembling hand on his zipper, he started to yank it down, and—
Urine blasted out of him in a hard, pouring rush, furiously soaking through the crotch of his pants and pounding to the floor beneath his feet. As it drenched its way down his legs, it made an impossible to ignore, ear-splitting hiss, violently soaking his pants. He froze and just stood there, stunned. He’d— No! No! He was—
James’s tears started to fall. This wasn’t fair! He’d gotten so close! If he’d only been able to hang on just a fraction of a second longer! He couldn’t believe he’d drenched himself like this… Not when the toilet was right there, seat up, ready for use! He should have been able to make it! He should have been! Tears streamed out as quickly as his pee had.
He whimpered at the shame, staring down at himself as hours of waiting and holding and waiting and holding came to an unwanted conclusion. The puddle spread across the ground, and he stood trembling in his wet clothes as more and more liquid forcibly pumped itself from his body. The pain in his bladder started to dissipate, and the relief was as good as he’d imagined it, but his dismay and sadness totally overpowered all the pleasant feelings. His stream was subsiding, his entire lower half was soaked, the floor was coated… He started to sniffle hard, crying more. “N…No fair…”
Ethan stood in the doorway, stepping in place, chest clenching at the sight of James losing control at the last possible second… Poor thing… Ethan’s heart sank even more when he saw James’s shoulders starting to heave and realized he’d begun to cry.
Ethan shut his eyes and told himself to stop fighting his own flood. It was time to relax. It took a second, it always took him a bit to start peeing his pants deliberately, no matter how desperate he was to let go. But, soon enough, he felt his warm stream wetting the crotch of his pants and seeping down his leg. “O—Oh no!” he said, spreading his legs out as his flow picked up speed. “I couldn’t make it, either!” His pants rapidly darkened, pee hissing very loudly into the material. “Ah— I can’t stop it!”
James stared at the liquid pooling out beneath Ethan’s feet. He knew that Ethan hadn’t REALLY lost it. He knew Ethan could have easily kept his bladder in check for the couple seconds it would take him to reach the toilet. He knew Ethan probably COULD stop going right now if he wanted. But, James smiled at him through his tears anyway. “Awww, you— You really had to go…” James said.
“Yeah…” Ethan agreed. He smiled and sighed. “Ahhh, I had to go SO badly! It’s just such a relief to let it out…” He pushed down, and his pee started to hiss a little louder, his own puddle was growing out beneath his feet, starting to mix with the mess James had already made of the floor. “My body just couldn’t handle it anymore, how embarrassing!” he said. “And, I was so close to the toilet, too!” He shut his eyes again and let a shudder pass through him. “Ohhh, feels so much better, though!”
James stepped closer to him, and didn’t even wait for Ethan to finish peeing before he’d hugged him against his chest. “P—Poor Ethan…” he murmured, kissing him on the cheek. “It’s okay… Just let go now…”
“Ahhhh…” Ethan sighed, he knew his pee was soaking James now, but James was already so wet that it hardly mattered. He rubbed James’s back gently, giving him a kiss. “I love you so much…” he breathed out as the final few spurts of his pee trickled forth.
James kissed him again, his tears all forgotten. “I love you, too… You… You always know what will make me feel better, and… And you just… Do it…” |
Written for the Omovember Prompt "In A Movie Theater". Some of the scenario is inspired by a drawing of Jailor Eckman's.
***
Ethan’s friends sometimes called him a dork. He didn’t think he was, usually. Sure, he spent over an hour each week organizing his psychology textbooks. Sure, he never went anywhere without a pen and pad of paper. Sure, he couldn’t even name three sports teams. But, none of that meant he was a dork.
But, the fact that he’d decided going to see the extended director’s cut for a really old space opera film was a ‘NECESSITY’ and not just a ‘want’ may have meant that he was. But, really, this WAS a necessity! The extended cut was only receiving a really limited number of showings in just a few select theaters. This version included everything, four scenes that hadn’t ever been seen before by anybody.
Ethan wasn’t going to miss any of this. He didn’t know when the scenes would appear— they were shrouded in mystery, after all. He wouldn’t allow himself to risk skipping over them.
The problem was that the massive soda he’d gotten, and had intended to drink off and on throughout the entire movie, hadn’t actually lasted that long. There was still a lot of time left in the movie, and the soda was now lodged in Ethan’s bladder.
James had gotten up to pee two times already. He liked this movie a lot too, but if he tried to sit through the entire thing without a break, he’d be sitting in a puddle before it was over— Especially after having sugary soda!
The second time he’d returned from the bathroom, as he’d sat back down he’d been unable to miss all the contorting that Ethan was doing. He’d brought his legs up into the seat with him and was scissoring them around. One hand was gripping tightly to his arm rest and the other was nervously fidgeting with his glasses.
After that, James had tried to return his focus to the movie, but Ethan was proving a far more interesting thing to watch. Still, James knew what the right thing to do was. He leaned in closer to his partner and whispered “Go pee, I’ll tell you if you miss anything.”
And Ethan shook his head. “I don’t want to miss the new scenes,” he said. “I’ll go after.”
James tried a couple more times to convince Ethan, but eventually he figured that Ethan probably knew his body better than James did. If Ethan said that he could wait until after the movie to pee, then that meant he could. Ethan wouldn’t risk having an accident in public, he’d definitely get up if it was THAT bad. And, James certainly didn’t have any complaints about getting to sit beside him as he wriggled and squirmed.
Ethan was glad he’d seen the regular-cut of this movie so many times— Enough times that he actually had a lot of the dialogue committed to memory— because his bladder was demanding an awful lot of his focus. His body was a bit annoyed with him, he figured. He knew he was being rather silly, it would only take him five minutes at most to leave the theater, get to a urinal, pee, and come back. The resolution to all this uncomfortable pressure was so simple and so close.
But, perhaps the fact that he KNEW a bathroom was available so close to his current position was part of why he was so determined to keep waiting as long as he could. He knew that, if it got to be too much and he was in danger of going in his pants, he could make a run for it and everything would be fine. This situation was entirely within his control, so if he WASN’T full enough that he was at risk of an accident, he saw no reason to get up and risk missing one of the new scenes.
He may not have been at risk of an accident, but he was definitely at the point that he’d consider himself desperate. There was a continual tugging around his urethral opening, and constant little stinging pangs running up and down the length of his cock. It was taking a constant effort to keep any of his urine from pumping its way out, but he was still ABLE to keep it in him fairly easily. He rhythmically clenched and relaxed his abdominal muscles as he wriggled from side to side in his seat, and that was enough to keep his bladder in check.
James was far more focused on Ethan than on anything happening in the film. With the way the lighting was in the theater, James could see sweat shimmering on his boyfriend’s forehead and could dimly make out the hitching of his chest as he took slow, careful breaths. One of Ethan’s hands was wedged between his knees now, and James wondered how much longer it would be until he’d wrapped it around his dick.
Half an hour later, and Ethan was constantly shifting his position. He just couldn’t hold still anymore! Two of the new scenes had been shown by then, and they’d been everything Ethan had hoped for, but unfortunately one took place beside an enormous waterfall on an alien planet, and the sound of it gushing had been in the background of the entire thing. Played on the huge speakers of the theaters, the noises toyed with Ethan’s bladder and left him shuddering with need.
Every drop of liquid that spattered on the massive screen felt like it fell with catastrophic impact into Ethan’s bladder. He’d given himself a few tight squeezes before the scene concluded, and once the waterfall was no longer being shown, know longer broadcasting its awful hissing noises, Ethan felt majorly relieved.
The scene had made James need to go again a little bit, too. But, he’d been enthralled by what it did to Ethan. When he saw Ethan’s hands repeatedly dart down to his lap to press against his crotch, James had blushed so much he was surprised that he didn’t start glowing! James couldn’t take his eyes off the desperate man as he fidgeted more and more, his teeth clamping onto his lip, his clothes getting more ruffled as he kept adjusting his position. At one point, his shirt rode up on him a bit and James could see a small but firm, round bump nestled between his boyfriend’s hip-bones; A furious, swollen lump of piss.
He saw Ethan glance down, saw the recognition in his eyes. Looking back up at the screen, Ethan’s hands reached down again and parted the button on his pants. Immediately, a sigh was falling from his lips as his bladder was given a bit more room.
James was getting more desperate just watching Ethan wriggle, but he didn’t want to get up and miss anything, either. Although, what HE didn’t want to miss and what Ethan didn’t want to miss were now two entirely different things. James had forgotten about the movie almost entirely now, he only wanted to keep staring as Ethan fought against his body’s rapidly growing need.
Ethan stomped his feet against the floor. There was probably about one hour left in the movie now, maybe a little bit more. He could contain himself that much longer, he knew he could. He was confident. As soon as he thought that, a rush of heat bolted down his length and he felt a dribble just at the edge of coming out. His hands flew quickly to his dick and squeezed away until the pressure started to dissipate.
He’d almost leaked. But ALMOST leaking and ACTUALLY leaking weren’t the same things. He could still wait, he was keeping all his pee exactly where it belonged. It was okay. The constant buzzing from just below the skin in his lower abdomen was starting to feel more like being stung, and he didn’t think it would be wise to let go of his crotch now. But that was fine. The room was dark, he could hold himself as much as he wanted without having to feel embarrassed about it.
A moment later, Ethan had splayed his legs out in front of himself, before crossing one overtop of the other and jiggling them frantically. He stared up at the screen, hips lurching into the much needed pressure of his clutching hands. His desperation was increasing, pulses and spasms continually rocking his bladder and making it difficult for Ethan to breathe. Deep breaths made the taut skin around his abdomen feel like it was going to tear, breathing too quickly caused his bladder to shudder more.
The third of the bonus scenes played, and Ethan tensed up enough that he was shaking. James, sitting beside him, could actually FEEL the tension radiating off of him. He was amazed by how focused Ethan suddenly was on the screen now that one of the scenes he’d been looking forward to was playing. Ethan had gone a little stiller, but was unable to restrain himself completely. He was still rocking from side to side, and James could see his knuckles whitening every so often as he tightened his grip on his crotch.
James tried to pay attention to the bonus scene, too. Just in case Ethan ended up asking him his thoughts about them. James knew that in an ordinary circumstance, he’d have no problem keeping himself focused on the movie. But, this wasn’t an ordinary circumstance. Ethan was putting on an unbelievably hot performance beside him and James’s eyes refused to settle themselves onto anything else.
James so wanted to tease Ethan somehow, but they were in a public place and he didn’t want to risk getting himself TOO excited. Maybe after the movie, Ethan could be persuaded to hold it until they got home and had some privacy. Even if Ethan ended up agreeing to that, James didn’t think HE could go home without peeing first, his own bladder had filled considerably as he’d watched his boyfriend writhe, like Ethan’s desperation was somehow contagious.
James actually felt full enough that he thought he really should get up and go to the restroom NOW, but he didn’t want to miss a second of Ethan’s squirming. Ethan looked positively breathtaking right now, his head leaning back, his hips thrusting into his palms… He was too hot for his own good and James couldn’t tear his eyes away from him for long enough to use the toilet! James wriggled his hips and told himself to wait. They’d pee together as soon as the movie was over, and he could barely wait to hear the moans Ethan was sure to let go of.
The fourth and final bonus scene came right before the climax of the film. Ethan kept rocking, his thighs grinding together, fighting not to stomp his feet against the floor now. He couldn’t let go of his crotch— Thank God it was too dark for anyone to notice! Somehow, he was still able to focus on the movie, not even the thunderous roar of his bladder was powerful enough to stop him from doing that.
Wow, was his bladder roaring, though! Waves were colliding inside of it— Entire oceans were slamming into each other within his body. He knew that he had precious little space left in there, so much of it already occupied by what felt like gallons of boiling hot liquid. He bit down hard on his lip, a little whimper squeaking from his mouth. He needed a toilet so much… No way was he going to miss this, though— This new scene completely changed the context of the ending, and made it even better!
Once the scene concluded, James half-expected Ethan to get up and pee— He’d seen all the new stuff now, and he’d watched this movie in its original form tons of times, he knew exactly how it was going to end. Ethan didn’t stand though, he didn’t even try to. He clearly intended to watch this through to the end, whether his bladder liked that or not.
And James TOO intended to watch this through to the end, as to miss out on even one second of Ethan’s wriggling would be completely unacceptable. James was starting to wriggle an awful lot himself, he was grinding against his seat as protesting little flares pinged through his bladder.
Half an hour later, the credits were rolling and the lights overhead turned on. Ethan looked frazzled and mussed, like he’d just woken up. His hair was out of place, and his clothing was ruffled. James was sure he didn’t look much better.
Ethan blushed when he saw James staring, and shakily tried to fix his hair with the hand not glued between his legs. James reached to smooth his hair down for him and smiled at him. “D—Did you like that?” he asked.
Ethan nodded, “I—It was great. But… Wow… That was long…” he gingerly got to his feet, squirming frantically in place as his bladder surged.
“Awww, somebody has to go, doesn’t he?” James teased.
“Y—Yeah,” Ethan said, blushing harder while watching people walk past them. “Not so loud?”
“Heh, it’s okay,” James shot up, then cringed as he folded over a bit. “I gotta go bad, too— And I actually went twice during the movie, you didn’t go at ALL. I bet you’re really bursting now!”
“I— I am,” Ethan admitted, to his embarrassment he realized one of his hands was still tucked between his trembling thighs. He’d meant to let go once the lights came on…
James looked at the empty drink in Ethan’s cupholder. “Wow, did you drink aallllll that?” he asked, picking it up. Some of the ice had melted, and James could hear it sloshing. His bladder lurched at the noise, but he shook more anyway.
“Nnnh…” Ethan cringed when he heard the fluid shifting inside the cup, stomping his feet harshly. “J—James, stop that! Put it down!”
“Gotta throw it out, silly,” James said. “What’s the matter? Why’s it bothering you?” He shook it faster.
Ethan jiggled in time with the cup. “It’s making me need to—“
“I’m sure it is!” James started to walk out of the aisle and Ethan limped after him— It was such a strain to walk! “You drank this whooole thing, and now it’s all just stuck in there, isn’t it? Bet it wants out real bad by now!”
“It does!” Ethan whimpered. God, the cup looked bigger now in the light. He couldn’t believe he’d drank the entire thing. No wonder he felt like his insides were all being stretched out in opposite directions…
James tossed the cup into a trash bin as they left the theater. “Now, is there somewhere else you’d like to go today?” he asked. “Or should we head home?”
“James…” Ethan whined, drawing out his name. “I can’t go home.”
“Hm?” James asked, feigning shock. “What do you mean? Where else are you gonna sleep tonight?”
“I have to— I have to relieve myself first. I won’t make it home,” Ethan said.
“Ohhhhh,” James said, still pretending that he was surprised. “Right. Ethan drank that whole biiiig cup and held it aaaaall afternoon, didn’t he? That’s why he’s so cute and squirmy now!” James paused in the hallway, wrapping Ethan into a hug. Ethan fidgeted hard against him, without realizing it he was bucking his hips against James’s, desperate to put some pressure against his crotch. James kissed him gently, then squeezed him hard and giggled when he felt Ethan tense up. “I’m sorry, am I making it worse?” he asked.
“Yessss…” Ethan groaned.
“Aww, that’s too bad!” James said. “I thought you liked it when I kiss you!”
“I do!” Ethan promised.
“Good boy,” James said, kissing him again. “Very, very good boy…”
Ethan felt a delightful chill going down his spine— Almost TOO delightful. “J—James, we are in public…” he reminded hoarsely. “S—Say that too much, and I might get a—a—“
James silenced him with another kiss, then said “Let’s get you your reward now.” He released Ethan, and took the hand that his boyfriend wasn’t clutching against his crotch. He led Ethan from the hall and out into the main area of the theater. They went down another hall towards the restroom James had already used twice that day, and Ethan hadn’t set foot into at all.
“Are we almost there?” Ethan winced.
James nearly asked him ‘Almost where?’ but the tease died on his lips when he saw a new sign tacked to the men’s room; Out of Order.
What?
It had been fine just a couple hours ago!
James felt Ethan squeeze his hand a little tighter. “James, I— I meant what I said. I can’t make it home…” he said, sounding panicked.
James was worried too. He probably wouldn’t make it home, either. He looked at the other side of the hall. “The girl’s one is open,” he pointed out.
“That doesn’t help me,” Ethan said. “I can’t use it.” As if on cue, he heard a toilet flush from inside that room. The noise was so tantalizing to his bladder that Ethan folded over a bit and pressed his legs tightly together. He WANTED to use it. He really, really wanted to…
“It’s an emergency…” James said, shifting his feet a little. “I’ve… I’ve used the girl’s before when the guy’s wasn’t open. It isn’t THAT big of a deal.”
“I’ll get in trouble,” Ethan said. “I… I did it once by accident, when I was in high school. I had to go really bad on a field trip and I didn’t pay attention to the signs…”
James snorted, “Awwww, cute!”
“No, it wasn’t funny. It was really embarrassing, and I got a detention for it because they thought I’d done it on purpose.”
“That’s no fair,” James said. “But… Nobody can give you detention now, Ethan. You’re kind of… Thirty. You won’t get in trouble if you just explain it’s an emergency. Those rules are kind of silly anyways when you think about it, everybody pees.”
Ethan shuffled back and forth with indecision. James was… Sort of saying something Ethan himself had said before, not that James realized it. One of Ethan’s patients was a transgender guy that had escaped from a cult, and one of the things they talked about sometimes was his fear of using public toilets. What Ethan always told him was to relax and remember everyone peed, and that it was silly how people made so many rules about such a simple thing.
Ethan’s current situation was pretty different from his patient’s, but the solution was similar. ‘Just relax. Everyone goes. This is an emergency.’
He still felt nervous, though! What if someone called security and then, just like the incident in high school, they didn’t listen to him when he explained that he’d just really needed to go?
“Well,” James said, tapping his feet. “I… Can’t wait anymore,” he turned to the door, hoping Ethan would choose to follow him in. Maybe he’d feel better about this if he wasn’t the only one doing it. James knew HE’D definitely feel better after he used one of the toilets in there, anyway. He was about to open the door when a woman opened it first. She did look a little startled to see him there, and he said “S—Sorry, my boyfriend and I are real desperate and the men’s is closed. Sorry…”
He caught her checking over his shoulder, watching Ethan’s pee-dancing… And he felt weirdly protective about it. Those squirms were for HIM! After a moment, the woman nodded and gave an understanding smile before walking past him.
“See?” James said to Ethan. “Not gonna get in tro—“
Apparently, Ethan had realized and accepted that as well, because he pushed right past James and into the restroom. James giggled at him, accidentally rocking his own uncomfortably full bladder.
Ethan locked himself into a stall, stamping his feet hard as he turned to face the toilet, already tearing his zipper down. He wondered for a second if he should…. If it would be more polite to sit while he was in here, just in case he missed. He heard a lock clattering in the adjacent stall, followed by a zipper, a stream, and a very adorable sigh from James’s lips…. All noises that nearly made Ethan leak! He hurried to free himself and aimed at the toilet, piss spurting from his tip immediately and pouring noisily into the water. “Ahhhh….” he moaned.
In the next stall, James reddened at that sound. He wished he could be in that stall with Ethan right now, he was DYING to see the look on his face. He was sure it must have been cute as could be, all sweaty, slack and happy… His cheeks pink from the exertion he’d just gone through… James heard another satisfied groan as the speed of Ethan’s relief seemed to pick up. Both the relieved moaning and the hissing spray of Ethan’s stream echoed in the quiet restroom, and James pushed down on his muscles so he could hopefully finish pissing before he got too hard to continue.
Ethan let himself relax more now that he was letting go. He was breaking a rule— one he’d gotten into trouble over once before— and that made him anxious, but he was PEEING and that made him feel so wonderful that he didn’t care as much. He knew he was being pretty silly about this anyway. He’d told his patient tons of times that most people probably didn’t even pay attention to other people in the bathroom with them! Sometimes, he thought, he needed to learn to take his own advice— Especially if doing so would mean he’d get to feel this good!
His bladder was still throbbing, but in a much more pleasant way now. The throbs billowed out and ended with pulses of relief rather than stings of urgency. He felt the sensation of something inside him shrinking away, a feeling he’d grown accustomed to and now liked very much. He rubbed his free hand over his middle a little bit, his abdomen feeling tingly and light from the gentle prodding.
He heard James flush the toilet in his stall, but didn’t hear him open the door. He must have been waiting for him to finish… Which Ethan could tell was going to take a while. Oh well, he knew James wasn’t going to MIND having to stand there and listen to him to gush for a bit.
Ethan kept rubbing his hand beneath his navel, discovering that he REALLY liked how it felt to touch himself right there while he peed. It made the relief that much more intense for some reason, and he couldn’t resist another moan. About a minute later, the last few spurts had left him and he shuddered as he zipped up. That was better…
He and James washed their hands, and Ethan was happy to see the restroom was empty for the time being. No one around to question them while they left. They left the theater then, returned to their car where Ethan gave a heavy sigh. “Phew,” he said. “I sure feel better now!”
“Good!” James said. “I do too! I was starting to have to go super bad!” He looked over at Ethan, at his face, still pink and sweaty… “A—And…Um… What a good boy you were back there, I told you to relax and you did!”
Ethan froze. He’d been about to put the key into ignition, but now his hand wouldn’t move. “Eheh, you… Were right. It wasn’t such a big deal after all. I was worried over nothing.”
“You were, silly guy…” James said. “But, you did a really good job calming down so you could take care of yourself. Bet that felt good, and you earned it! Such a good, good boy…”
Ethan’s face was getting pinker by the second, beginning to scorch red. “James…” he mumbled. It was too hot in here. He needed to turn the car on. He needed the air conditioner.
James reached and stroked Ethan’s hair, petting it gently. “Excellent job,” he said. “Staying calm and listening, I’m so proud of you! Who’s my good boy?”
‘MY good boy…’ the words echoed in Ethan’s head, and he dropped the keys to the floor, his hands trembling wildly.
James rubbed a hand overtop the crotch of Ethan’s pants, “Wow, you’re so hard and I hadn’t even touched you yet…” he murmured. “Getting ahead of me… How’d you get so good at that?”
Fuck… Ethan could hardly breathe now, and his pants felt way too tight, they were strangling him… “James… What… What are you doing?”
James’s hand froze, “Do you want me to stop?”
Absolutely not. “No,” Ethan breathed out. “Keep going. Keep… Keep talking, okay?”
“You like the sound of my voice?” James asked him, starting to unzip Ethan’s fly to free his hard cock. “Or, is it what I’m saying? Is there something you’re dying to hear?”
Ethan moaned and tipped his head back as James started to pump his cock. “James… God…”
“You have such a perfect dick,” James murmured, leaning over to suck lightly on the tip for a second. “Tastes so good… Everything about you is so good…”
Ethan’s hips bucked involuntarily, the tension inside him was building at an alarming rate. “I’m— If you k—keep saying—“
James put Ethan’s cock back inside his mouth, continuing to stroke what he couldn’t fit in.
“Mmmf—“ Ethan grunted. If only James could talk and suck him off at the same time, then he’d be in Heaven.
As it was though, this was pretty damn close to it…
James withdrew from him, “You know, I barely paid attention to the movie,” he informed breathlessly.
That was… Random.
“Too focused on you,” James added. “You know I just melt when I see you squirm, and you’re just so GOOD at it…”
Ethan’s back arched as James started to stroke him again. “I— had to go so much— I was just d—doing wh—what I h—had to…”
“See? You’re a natural,” James said. “Amazing. No one can turn me on like you. Such a good, good boy…”
“God, James…” Ethan’s eyes were rolling back now. He felt like he almost didn’t NEED James to be touching him right now, that was just a bonus, an afterthought to the fantastic power of his words. “James… Just… Keep talking… Don’t stop.”
“Heh, here I am jerking you off and all you want is my voice?” James laughed. “You love the sound that much? You want me to talk to you about the movie some?”
“Mmmm—“
“Nah, I know what you want to hear,” James said. “You want to hear about how you’re my good boy, don’t you? You want to hear about how perfect you are, huh?”
Ethan grunted, heat firing through his lower half, bubbling up inside him. “I’m gonna— I’m—“
“You know, for a therapist, I think you should be able to see your own narcissism a little easier,” James laughed. “Can’t get enough of hearing that you’re wonderful, can you?”
“It’s not narci—“
“I know, silly, I’m teasing you,” James giggled out. “Heheh, I’m glad you put up with the teasing. Such a good boy, never getting annoyed… My wonderful, perfect, good boy…”
“Ah—!” Ethan gasped a strangled moan as cum shot from his tip and spattered his shirt. More pumped free as his cock began to deflate, leaving a small mess in his lap as the haze and dizziness of his arousal cleared. He breathed heavily for several seconds, staring out the front window of… His… Car…
He’d really just let James get him off in a public parking lot, hadn’t he?
He couldn’t have helped it, though! James had just… Driven him crazy there. His face still flushed red with embarrassment, though.
James rubbed his shoulder. “Good boy…” he said again.
Ethan laid in his seat for a moment, feeling relaxed and a little sleepy. “Well…” he said finally. “I was GOING to take us somewhere to have dinner next, but…” he looked down at himself, cum was visible on his shirt and VERY easily spotted on his black pants. “Not such a good idea now. Besides, I want to get you home so I can return the favor.”
“Yay!” James beamed. “Let’s go!”
“Heh, eager…” Ethan laughed. |
Written for the Omovember prompt "Peeing Lesson/Demonstration".
***
It was a familiar scene for James. He was in a classroom, eyes glued to the slowly ticking clock above the door as he tried to will it to go faster. His legs were crossing, and if time didn’t magically speed up, there was a very large chance that he’d have an accident all over the floor.
This was something James knew well. It was something he’d lived through daily for many, many years.
Except, those years were SUPPOSED to have been long over now. He’d graduated ages ago, freed himself from the daily struggle of not wetting his pants in a room full of cruel teenagers that were sure to laugh at him.
And yet, here James was again anyway, facing the exact same problem.
To make matters worse, he wasn’t squirming urgently at a desk in one corner of the room, where he had a hope that his desperation would go unnoticed. Instead, he was at the front of the room, standing at the board.
James’s sister, Heather was a middle school science teacher. Heather was also very sick today. So, when her usual substitute had said she couldn’t come in, she called James instead. “I know it’s short notice,” she’d said, struggling to speak through a throat full of phlegm. “But, the lesson plans for today are all right on my desk. Can Ethan manage without you today?”
After Ethan had promised him that he’d be okay on his own for one day, James agreed to help his sister out.
He regretted that now.
The first class had gone okay, the kids were well behaved for the most part, though some DID try to mess with him a little bit. James had talked a lot, reciting everything from the lesson plan on photosynthesis which he’d been given for that class. He was surprised by how easily he was able to answer the questions too, he remembered more from his own middle school science classes than he’d expected.
But, talking so much got James thirsty and he drank a lot out of his water bottle. By the end of the first class, he already had to pee. He’d initially assumed that toilet breaks would work about the same as they had when he’d been a student; That it was best to go in between classes. He was dismayed to learn that this wasn’t actually the case for teachers.
As soon as his first class had left, students for his second class began to file in. James knew he wasn’t ever supposed to leave kids alone in the classroom, so the pee-break he’d been so certain he was about to have was abruptly cancelled.
He started to worry a little then. So, apparently teachers didn’t go pee during passing-periods like students did… When DID they go pee, then? Lunch, maybe? That was five hours away… James had never waited a whole five hours before. His bladder ALWAYS burst before he got that far! They couldn’t be expecting him to hold it in for half a day like that, right?
The bell for second period hadn’t rang yet, so James assumed it would be okay to text his sister.
‘Heather, I need to pee. How do I do that?’
James tucked his phone back away as more of the kids filed in. He’d been feeling confident at the start of the first class, certain that he could manage a room full of teenagers just fine even if one of them DID choose to act up. He didn’t feel as confident now. Memories of his school days filled his brain at the same rate as the pee still filling his bladder.
James hadn’t ever been particularly good at hiding the fact he needed to use the toilet. Sometimes, even if his desk was off to the side, or way in the back where he was harder to see, his classmates would be able to tell he had to go. He would just wriggle and bounce so much that it was impossible not to notice!
And, of course, once it was picked up on, once the other kids sniffed blood in the water, zeroed in on a sign of weakness… The teasing would begin. Not the fun teasing James sometimes talked Ethan into subjecting him to, but really harsh, malicious teasing. Teasing designed to make James feel very ashamed of himself. Teasing designed to make James have a humiliating accident in front of everybody.
Certain kids always liked to screw around with substitute teachers. Having a substitute teacher that obviously needed to pee really badly would give those types of kids all kinds of ammunition.
James hoped Heather texted him back soon. Preferably before his ‘I sort of want to go pee soon’ transformed itself into an ‘I really, really need to go pee NOW!’
The bell rang with no response from his sister, so James began the class instead. This was another sixth grade class, so he’d be reciting the photosynthesis lecture again. That was good. He’d done it once, so the second time would probably be easier.
“Hello,” he waved to the kids. “I am Mrs. Bowen’s brother. She isn’t feeling well today, so I will be filling in for her.” There was a sharp spasm inside his bladder as he finished the sentence, before his need died back down to a quiet tingling. He went to Heather’s desk, grabbed the papers left there for the sixth grade classes, just in case he forgot something important.
As he recited everything and drew diagrams on the board, James felt a little better. One girl even said that he drew a lot better than Heather did and that his handwriting was clearer. His confidence started to return to him. Even if he’d never done this before, even if he was starting to need a bathroom quite a bit, he could still do a good job.
But then, he started talking about the role water played in photosynthesis, and already his bladder was pinching away just at the mention of liquid. It got so much worse when a boy blurted out “Does it work with pee, too?”
James froze and stopped drawing on the board. He… He’d been working really hard at not crossing his legs or jiggling around, even at the harsher stabs of need he’d been feeling! He’d thought he’d been doing a good job of hiding it! He’d thought— “Huh?”
“Does pee work to water plants?” the boy repeated.
Maybe he was just asking because he was literally curious. Maybe he hadn’t worked out that James had to go. Maybe he wasn’t trying to tease him, trying to force him to think about urinating when he still wasn’t able to go. “Um…” James bit down on his lip. Against his will, he recalled times where he’d relieved himself onto bushes or trees, sighing with relief as his stream darkened the bark. All those times, he’d sort of ASSUMED he was helping out the plants, since urine was mostly made of water, anyway. But, he’d never actually checked if that was true.
“I’m not sure…” James admitted. “I think so? Pee is mostly water, but it’s got other stuff in it too. I guess too much of the other stuff could be bad for a plant, but… I don’t know. It’s probably fine to go on a plant if you really have to, just not over and over.” He looked back towards the boy. James suddenly had an intense urge to squeeze his thighs together and rock a little, but he was certain that would make his problem obvious.
“Oh,” the boy said. “Mrs. Bowen never would have actually answered that.”
James wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, because it meant he’d possibly taught the kid something new that he wouldn’t have known otherwise. Or, if it was a bad thing because he wasn’t SUPPOSED to be answering questions like that.
He returned to the lesson plan, all the while listening out for a chime that would indicate his sister had replied to him. He really wanted her to respond soon. He understood she was sick, and probably asleep, but in the brief time that had passed since he sent that message, his need to go had worsened quite a bit. It was taking everything he had not to fidget around. He’d begun to pace a little in front of the board, hoping that it looked normal enough. Teachers paced around their classrooms all the time, didn’t they? James could remember that from when he’d been in school.
Maybe the reason they walked around so much was because they never had a chance to pee and always had to go…
James tried to shake that thought from his brain. Teachers must have had SOME chances to pee throughout the day. They had to! Otherwise, James would burst today!
When that class ended, James was completely unable to ignore his bladder. If he’d gone into work with Ethan today, this would be the point where he’d stop his boyfriend between appointments and tell him that he needed a toilet break. If he’d gone into work with Ethan today, he knew Ethan would just nod and say “Oh, of course, James. You don’t need to ask me for permission! Go get yourself comfortable.”
But, he HADN’T gone into work with Ethan today. And James was sure he DID need to ask… Somebody for permission to go. He just didn’t know WHO or how to get to them!
Again, James couldn’t make use of the passing period to empty out his bladder. As soon as the second class was gone, the third started to show up. James tensed up his thighs, it was all he could do to help his bladder out without being too obvious about it. His phone dinged, and he eagerly retrieved it from his pocket.
‘Pretty sure you just go to the toilet and relax for a few seconds. :P’
James frowned deeply at the message. Heather had liked to make jokes about his tiny bladder when they were growing up. She always giggled when James started begging for a stop on family road trips, usually less than two hours since he’d LAST begged for one. But, shouldn’t she be too SICK to tease him right now?
‘I’m serious. I need to go. How do I take a break?’
‘You can call the front office and ask for someone to watch your class for a couple minutes. Then you’re not supposed to use the student bathrooms, so you’ll have to go down to the office to get the spare key for the teacher’s lounge. (Sorry, I took mine home yesterday.)’
James sighed. That was a lot of work just to be able to pee! But, James REALLY wanted to be able to pee soon! As the students continued filing in, he went back to Heather’s desk. A phone was resting there, and luckily there was a post-it note tacked to it that listed the number of the front office. He dialed it and waited for someone to pick up. When a woman did, he said “Hello, I’m subbing for Mrs. Bowen today, and I need to…” he tapped a hand against his thigh. Normally, he wasn’t shy at all about saying he had to urinate, but he didn’t want the students to hear it. “I need to… To step out for a couple minutes. Um, can someone come watch my class really fast?”
“Sorry, no one’s available for that at the moment,” the woman on the other end said.
“Oh,” James tried not to let his disappointment become audible in his voice. “Uh… Do you know when someone will be?”
“Afraid not, you can call back later if you like,” she said.
“Okay…” James said. He set the phone back down and tried not to panic. He HATED being in situations like this, where he needed to go and didn’t even have a reasonable estimate for when he’d next be at a toilet. If he knew he’d be able to pee at the end of THIS period, then he’d think he’d be alright. But, what if that came and went and he STILL had to hold it? What if he had to hold it through the next class, too? What if he had to hold all the way to lunch?
What if he couldn’t go during lunch, either?
He’d pop. His bladder was sending him very worrisome signals right now, forcing him to walk on very stiff legs back to the front of the class. He introduced himself again, quite a bit more quickly than he’d been doing before. Whenever James had to pee, he always had this urge to rush through everything even if he knew it wouldn’t actually get him to a bathroom any faster. Just, there were so many things inside his body screaming ‘Hurry, hurry! Hurry up, please!’ that he couldn’t help but speed through all of his tasks.
This was the seventh grade class, so instead of photosynthesis, they were covering…
Oh, come on!
They were covering the urinary system. A topic James knew a lot about, sure… But, it was a topic he knew a little TOO MUCH about right now! “Um… Okay, so we will be talking about… About the urinary system today,” he said, trying not to sound too anxious. He couldn’t help it, though. Ohh, this was the last thing he wanted to have to discuss right now… The plant stuff had been able to sort of DISTRACT him from peeing, this wouldn’t do that at all!
He shakily grabbed a marker and started to draw a diagram. He didn’t need to look at the one in Heather’s lesson plan to copy off of it, he already knew the name and placement of each part. He jiggled on his feet as he drew the urethral sphincters, his own begging to be allowed to relax. “Ah— Okay, so… um, here are the kidneys, they… Uh, they keep your blood clean by filtering out all the stuff you don’t need and… Um… Producing urine…”
James tightened his thighs as he turned back around. His kidneys were a bit too good at filtering his blood, he thought. They needed to slow down! He pointed to some lines he’d drawn below the kidneys. “Th—Those are called ureters, they move the urine from the kidneys and into the… the bladder. The bladder stores all the urine until you can…” he cringed and turned back around so he was facing away from the class. He wanted to hold himself. He needed to hold himself. His pee was sloshing so hard inside his bladder, every short inhale of air made it spasm…
He plunged a hand into his pocket, and it strained towards his groin, trying to get a decent grip that would go unnoticed when he made himself turn away from the board again. He took a deep breath— One that only succeeded in pulling his taut skin harshly against his straining bladder— and looked back at the class. “Th—The bladder has to try and hold all the urine inside of it until— Until you can finally— Until you can finally go to the restroom.” His hand was barely making contact with his crotch, hardly doing ANYTHING to help his poor bladder out…
He bounced on his feet. Once. Twice. Three times. After he’d started jiggling, he just couldn’t stop! He needed to move, needed to do something to keep it in, to make it feel less like he was gonna burst! Sweat was rolling down his back, and he failed to notice the kids were staring at him until one of them decided to speak, without raising her hand first.
“Mister… Uh, it looks like YOUR bladder can’t hold all the urine inside of it…”
The class erupted into giggles and snickers.
James was transported back to his OWN middle school days, sitting miserably at his desk, fanning his knees in and out as his feet tapped anxiously against the ground. A boy who loved to pick on him suddenly shouting out, “James’s gonna pee his pants again!” Everyone laughing… James whimpering and asking the teacher for a hall pass again. Finally having his request granted, but losing a few spurts of urine between his desk and the toilet…
James’s face heated up. Both from the memories, and the knowledge that no hall pass was coming his way this time. He had to hold it. He had no choice. Not unless he wanted to be known as the grown man who wet himself in front of a room full of kids while trying to teach them how bladders worked.
James forced a laugh. “Eheh… Uhhhh…” he wracked his brain, trying to think of a way to make this less humiliating. “Um… G—Good catch!” he said finally. “I… Uh… To make this lesson more interesting, I decided to act it out! Pr—Pretend that I really, really need to go! I—Is it convincing?”
Oh, God… What was he doing?!
“Oh,” the girl who’d spoken out of turn said. “Heh, you’re a good actor. I really thought we were gonna get to see a teacher pee himself today.”
“Th—Thank you!” James said. “But, I will not take the lesson THAT far, don’t worry!” He hoped that he could keep that promise. The merciless pinching inside his abdomen warned him that he may not be able to.
The rest of that class went better. Since the students were convinced that James was only PRETENDING he needed the toilet, he let himself squirm and cross his legs as he spoke. He didn’t try to stop his tone from wavering, or his voice from hitching each time his bladder flared and pulsed. He let himself pace around and wriggle his hips as much as he needed to. The kids were laughing, but they were laughing WITH him, believing he was in on the joke and not ACTUALLY experiencing a major emergency.
But, when that class let out, and the next started to arrive, James was darting STRAIGHT to the phone to call the front office again. “H—Hello, I’m… I’m the guy filling in for Mrs. Bowen again,” he said, shifting from foot to foot as he held the phone in his sweaty hand. “I… Uh… I still REALLY need to leave for a couple minutes. Um, really bad? Could someone come and—“
“No one is available,” the woman on the other end cut him off.
“Y—You’re there…” James pointed out. “Can’t you do it?”
“No, I’ve got to stay here in case the phone rings.”
“B—But, I…” James lowered his tone to a whisper, mindful of the students nearby. “I need to use the restroom. A lot.”
“I’m sure you can hold it.”
If there was one thing James hated when he was in these kinds of situations, it was being told by someone else that he could ‘hold it’. How could another person claim to know his body, its limitations, and what was going on inside of it better than he did? James knew that his bladder had very little room left right now, James could feel how close to overflowing it was, James could feel all the painful surges and needy pinches that rippled through it. “I— I can’t,” he said, even more softly. “I need to go really, really, really bad.”
“As soon as someone is available, you’ll be free to go,” the woman said, not sounding as if she cared at all.
Another class.
Another seventh grade class.
He was going to have to spend one more hour explaining the urinary system to a bunch of kids while his own felt like it was about to tear him limb from limb if he didn’t get to a toilet soon.
This class and the one after it were the last two before lunch. Two hours to go, and he didn’t even know if he’d be able to pee during lunch, either.
Cold sweat went down his back. He didn’t think he could do this. He couldn’t do it. It was too much. He’d explode. He took out his phone, fired off two panicked text messages.
‘Heather,
The front office says no one is available, and I NEED to go NOW. What do I do?’
and
‘Ethan,
Sorry I haven’t texted you yet today. I think I’m an okay teacher. Except, I haven’t had a bathroom break at all today and I need one super badly and I don’t know what to do.’
James put his phone back away. He was glad he hadn’t erased the drawing he’d done of the urinary system during the last class. He didn’t think he’d be able to bring himself to do it again. He had to redo a couple of the labels, and his hand shook so badly that the words were nearly illegible. “O—Okay!” he said, voice cracking hard as he introduced himself. “S—So today, we are g—going over the urinary sys—system…”
He explained the kidneys and the ureters. “A—And the bladder is… Ohh, it’s—“ Without noticing, he started to double over, knees jiggling frantically. “It’s where the pee gets stored, until… Until you can…” A squirt of pee soaked into his boxers and he froze. The first thing he noticed was the warmth blooming between his legs. Then, he realized how coiled up on himself he was, how obvious his desperation was becoming. Then, he remembered the audience. “Ah—“ He nervously straightened himself out, and tried to stop fidgeting. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t stop bouncing if his life depended on it.
The kids were all snickering, the nature of his problem was blatantly clear. “Haha,” one girl giggled out. “Your kidneys must have worked extra hard today!”
Could he… Do a repeat of the LAST class? Pretend he was playing around just so he could keep their attention better? “I… Um… Th—They have,” he admitted. “A little too hard, I think…” he tried to smile. “D—Don’t I look silly? Th—This is— Ah— Part of the process of the urinary system. S—See, um, your bladder stores all of the urine until you can… Until you can go to the toilet. And I CAN’T go to the toilet right now, because I have to stay here and teach you guys.”
A lot of the kids laughed, and James blushed. This was his own middle school experience all over again!
“S—So, the bladder… It expands as it gets full. And when it’s full— like mine is right now— the nerve endings send… A lot of really, really loud messages to the brain telling you that you have to go. Th—There are two sphincter muscles, and these keep th—the urine from coming out before you’re ready by closing super tightly around the opening of the bladder.” James could barely speak, his voice wavered all over the place, and his jaw kept spasming in time with the pulses in his abdomen.
“I don’t think yours are doing such a good job!” someone commented.
“Ahh—“ James winced, bobbed in place. Why hadn’t Heather or Ethan texted him back yet!? He needed help! He was so embarrassed, so stressed… “Th—That’s… Um. That’s true. When the bladder gets really full, it can be harder for those sphincters to work, because they have all this extra pressure on them. When— When you are… Finally, finally able to go, the walls of the bladder contract and the sphincters relax, so th— the pee flows out through the urethra and— And then you feel a lot better, b—because you don’t h—have to hold it anymore. And— And that’s how it all works,” James said finally. “An—Any questions?” He was supposed to ask that, but he didn’t want to. He knew what was going to happen. A room full of kids, a very vulnerable substitute teacher…
“Yeah, how bad do you wanna do that right now?” a boy blurted out.
“Q—Questions not about me?” James tried. Against his will, his legs crossed. He flashed back to a horrid day in eighth grade where everyone was supposed to present a history project they’d done in front of the class. James had needed to go so bad, and asked for a hall pass first. But his teacher told him ‘You can go after you present.’ So, James had tried. He’d done his best to explain the French Revolution while on the verge of soaking his pants at the front of the room. He started to leak while describing the economic inequality taking place in France, and by the time he’d finished he was dribbling nonstop and knew that he had a wet spot on his pants.
Everyone had been able to tell clear as day how desperate he was, too. And his classmates kept him there after he finished by asking him a bunch of questions that he HAD to answer in order to get a good grade. One of the guys who liked to pick on him kept asking him how to say ‘yes’ in French over and over, which annoyed James both because of the effect it had on his bladder, AND because that was a really old joke which hadn’t been THAT funny even when it was new.
Now, he was going to have to do something similar all over again, and this time it was going to be EXTRA easy for the kids to ask him questions that forced him to think about urinating.
“Oh, okay,” the boy replied. “So, what happens if your bladder gets super full and you can’t use the toilet?”
“Y—You get very, very uncomfortable,” James said. “Th—The nerve endings in the bladder get more… insistent. Send signals to your brain more frequently.”
“And if you keep having to ignore them? What happens if the sphincters can’t stay tight anymore?”
“I— I’m sure you already know…” James whimpered. He was trying so hard to make sure that his sphincters DID stay tight! But, he could practically FEEL them weakening as more and more pee slammed against them.
“I don’t,” the boy said. “Tell me.”
“Y—Your bladder… Um… It empties involuntarily…” James said quietly. And, at those words, his own bladder emptied a long involuntary spurt into his boxers. His first real bad leak of the day. He froze at the feeling of the warmth pulsing out of him, and palmed his crotch for a second. He YEARNED to dig his hands against himself as firmly as he could, but a brief little squeeze was all he allowed himself to do.
“Is yours gonna do that?”
James’s face was on fire. Middle school was Hell. He was lucky to have escaped it with his life the first time. He should have never agreed to come back here. Ever. Why did Heather choose this career? Who in their right mind would voluntarily enter a middle school? “Don’t ask questions about me, please. Stay focused on the topic.”
“The topic’s about to be a puddle on the floor…” a different boy snickered.
James tried to steady himself. He didn’t want to get angry at them, but he was growing very frustrated. He was trying so hard to be a good teacher, all while holding gallons of piss. They didn’t have to be so mean about it… “I can hold it…”
“You sure?”
James WASN’T sure! He’d been holding it for so, so long. He was amazed that he was still keeping it in, and felt like he was running on borrowed time. His bladder muscles were dying, growing weak and spasming out of control. He didn’t notice he was gripping himself until he heard even more laughter and “Look, he’s pinching it… Like a little kid!”
James looked down, and saw that his hands were between his legs now. He tried to move them, but a quick jet of pee made him put them right back.
“Totally gonna pee his pants, this is amazing…”
What was amazing about it? What had James done to deserve wetting his pants in front of a room filled with people?
“Serves the teachers right for never letting us go during class.”
James would let someone go pee during class, if they asked. He knew how bad it was to be stuck in class and barely able to focus on anything other than an overflowing bladder. If a student came to him and asked to go, he’d NEVER make them hold it. He started to tear up.
“Holy— He’s actually crying.”
Even more laughter.
Finally, finally the bell rang.
James managed to take one hand out from between his legs to wipe away his tears as the kids departed. Immediately, he was rushing for the phone. When the woman in the front office picked up, he blurted “I NEED someone to cover me for a few minutes. NOW.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman sighed, making it abundantly clear that she WASN’T sorry at all. “No one is available for—“
James lowered his voice, “I am about to wet myself. Please. I’ve been holding it all morning. I can’t wait anymore. I need to go.”
“Stop dramatizing. You can hold it,” the woman said yet again.
“I can’t, okay? I really can’t.”
“I’m sure you can,” she told him.
And that was that.
One more class until lunch. One more class until he could— he hoped to God— finally pee.
He didn’t think he could make it.
He really, really didn’t think he could make it.
James’s phone buzzed and he scrambled for it. Ethan had finally responded to him.
‘James,
I apologize for taking so long. I was with a patient. If you still haven’t had a chance to relieve yourself, there is something that might help. I can’t get you to a toilet from here, but I think there’s a way you can kind of… trick your brain into thinking it’s not so impossible to wait. And that should make it easier for you.
Pretend that you are CHOOSING to hold it.
Forget that you haven’t got a way to pee and that you NEED to keep holding it. Pretend that you’re at home, that you’re waiting because you WANT to, and that you can stop to go at any time— You just don’t WANT to yet.
That’s what I’ve been doing today, and it’s been helping ;)’
James blushed at the last line. He hadn’t thought about this when agreeing to fill in for his sister, but without him handling phone calls and other things for Ethan, Ethan was probably really struggling to find time for a toilet break today too.
‘Aw, poor Ethan…’ James imagined his partner wriggling impatiently in his chair, trying to find a few seconds where he could pause and relieve his bladder. Then, he imagined his partner wriggling impatiently in his chair, convincing himself that he was only holding it because he WANTED to, and that really everything was perfectly fine.
James could do that.
He could pretend that he was CHOOSING to hold it for one more hour.
Once more, he was met with a class of seventh graders. Once more, he would have to describe the urinary system and how the bladder functioned while his own screamed and cried for a moment of relief. But, this time, he told himself over and over that he actually COULD leave and go pee whenever he decided to, he just didn’t WANT to go yet.
“W—We will be talking about the uri—urinary system today,” James began. Remembering how bad the teasing had made him feel during the last class, he decided to get ahead of it. “And, yes, I’m sure you can tell that my OWN urinary system is making me feel VERY uncomfortable right now. If you all stay quiet and listen to me, you can learn more about why.”
There were some snickers, but now James was reasonably sure the kids were laughing WITH him again, instead of AT him.
James felt more confident as he spoke, his bladder still caused him to stutter and stumble, but that was okay. He really had to pee, of course he wasn’t able to talk normally right now. He’d pee in a few minutes, maybe. If he felt like it. For now, he could hold it.
His bladder kept thrashing around within him, fiery pulses of need continued to flare throughout it, but he kept repeating ‘You can go whenever you wanna. You just don’t want to,’ over and over in his head. The more he chanted this mental-mantra, the easier it got to hold back his leaks. He had a few more spurts before the class was over, spurts that prompted him to snap his knees together and bend over a little, but he got them back under control each and every time.
“A—And, as the bladder fills and expands,” James said. “The signals it sends to your brain become more frequent— Ah!— L—Like me, I’m getting those signals non-stop right now. My bladder is saying ‘You need to use the restroom right now! I’m really, really full!’ But, since there’s no toilet here and I can’t listen to it yet, the sphincters that control my bladder are n—needing to work extra hard!”
“Does dancing around like that actually help?” a girl asked.
James blushed a little. That question had sounded a bit like a tease. He tried not to let it bother him too much. “I—It feels like it does,” James said. “B—Because when you squirm and tense up, those sphincter muscles contract even more than they do n—normally, so that makes it FEEL less urgent. B—But, the bladder st—still has a…. Limit, and when it gets TOO full it won’t matter how much your legs are crossing.”
“Is yours almost that full?” the girl wondered.
“N—Not yet…” James said. “But, not so many questions about me, okay?” He turned back around. “N—Now,” he said. “Th—This is the part I really WISH I could be doing right now… When you get to the toilet and your brain tells your bladder that it’s— That it’s finally okay to empty, the walls of your bladder contract, and your sphincters can finally… Relax for a second… And— And the pee flows out through your urethra, and— Nnnh, it feels… You just feel so much better…”
A longer jet of pee wetted the front of his boxers and, since he was still facing away from everyone, he allowed both his hands to firmly grasp his dick. Still, drops were seeping out of him at an alarming rate. “Ah…Nnnnhhh….” he whimpered, struggling to stop his leaking.
‘You can pee whenever you want, you can pee whenever you want,’ James repeated to himself. ‘You just feel like holding it for now, but you can go as soon as you decide to…’ After a few seconds of this, he was able to release his crotch and turn back around. “S—So, that’s h—how it works…” he said. “W—We have five minute left— Which my urinary system is VERY thankful about!— Are there any questions?”
A boy raised his hand. “What happens if you hold it too long?”
James winced. He was certain this was MORE teasing. “Y—Your bladder will involuntarily r—release…” he forced a smile. “You know, th—that thing I’m trying real hard not to have happen right now.” ‘They are GOING to laugh. Make sure it’s WITH you, not AT you,’ he pleaded with himself as he fought down his embarrassment alongside the waves of pee billowing up inside of him.
“But…” the boy hesitated. “What if… Let’s say you hold it too long because… Um…”
James was confused now. He’d been certain the boy was asking these things in order to make him feel even more self-conscious about his blatant desperation, but now the boy seemed to be the more nervous and embarrassed one. And James noticed that he was squirming an awful lot, too. How long had that kid been so fidgety?
“You hold it too long because you can’t… Get it to come out,” the boy said. “Like, let’s say you get nervous in public bathrooms and stuff, and… Like—“
“Oh,” James said. “Oh, okay. Yeah. I know what you’re talking about. My boyfriend’s a therapist, I saw that in one of his books. S—So, you are ask—asking what would happen if your bladder gets too full, but CAN’T empty itself?”
“W—Well not MY bladder,” the boy stammered. “I mean… My cousin’s. Who lives in Canada.”
“Oh,” James tried to remember the things he’d read in Ethan’s book. The section on shy bladder had mentioned that it could get dangerous… “S—So, you are describing shy-bladder syndrome, and… Uh—Um, th—that can b—be a problem,” James said. “Since, the reason you would h—have an accident is b—because your body is trying to keep itself safe, the bladder can get d—damaged if it holds too much. Your cousin could get an infection, or have urinary retention, or inj—injure himself… In my boyfriend’s book, it said s—sometimes people with that condition have to get cath—catheterized, but that’s only in really extreme cases…”
The boy looked very worried, and James saw him anxiously glance at the clock on the wall. “So, I— I mean my cousin could get really sick from holding it too long?”
“Y—Yeah,” James said. “Oh, but the book— It said there’s lots of ways to deal with it. Like, your cousin could try and find restrooms he feels more comfortable in and remember where they are for when he goes out. Or, if there’s someone he trusts a lot, then that person could be near him while he goes to help him relax.”
The boy didn’t say anything else. And he kept looking at the clock, squirming.
James looked at the clock too, so close… So, so—
RING!
The bell finally sounded! It was lunchtime! James could pee very, very soon! He anxiously bounced as he watched the students leave the room. The boy whom had asked him all those questions was the last to exit, doing so slowly and on wobbly legs.
James’s legs were just as wobbly as he made his way to the door. He shut it, and locked it just like Heather had told him he was supposed to. ‘I can’t hold it,’ his brain screamed. ‘I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it!’ He knew where the front office was, he’d seen it when he’d arrived that morning. It wasn’t far, but his bladder didn’t like walking! Each step made it bounce and slam itself around inside him. When he passed by a set of restrooms meant for the students— Which he’d been specifically told that he wasn’t allowed to use— he had to try very hard not to run in there anyway to unload his ridiculously heavy burden. Even when he gave in and started to clutch at himself once more, he couldn’t stop three new leaks from pulsing forth before he’d made it to the office.
He stumbled in, fully aware of how ridiculous he must have looked; doubling over, hands buried between trembling legs. He could feel the way sweat was pouring off of him, and from the heat in his cheeks he knew he was probably bright pink, too. He saw the woman behind the desk, doubtless the same one that had been denying him his toilet break all day. “Ex—Excuse me…” he needed to FORCE the words out, his bladder hurt so bad he could hardly breathe. “I n—need the k—key to the teacher’s lounge s—so I can use the restroom, please?”
The woman rolled her eyes at James, as though simply grabbing the key for him was a major inconvenience that was messing up her schedule. She took her time pulling it from one of the drawers in her desk, or at least it sure seemed that way to James. Then again, he had to go so urgently that everything seemed to be happening in slow-motion right now.
Finally, she handed it to him, and James was about to take off when he realized he didn’t actually KNOW where the teacher’s lounge was. “Wh—Where is it…?”
“Three doors down,” the woman stated.
James rushed from the office, his leaks seeming to grow more frequent the closer he came to relief. He flung open the door to the teacher’s lounge, finding it empty for the moment. Apparently he was the first one here, or the actual teachers ate lunch somewhere else. He quickly made his way to the other side of the room, reaching the door that he hoped would grant him his much needed relief. He hurriedly opened it, and nearly lost it completely when he finally saw a toilet. He managed to restrain himself to slow, constant dribbling as he locked the door and started to yank down his pants— The amount of pressure he was under warned him that standing might not be such a great idea this time.
He was pissing full force before he’d managed to sit himself down all the way, he knew some of his pee had spattered the seat, but he couldn’t care about that because suddenly all he knew anymore was that he was GOING and that it felt amazing. He panted and gasped, releasing choppy moans as he tried to catch his breath.
His phone chimed, and he dazedly took it from his pocket to find a text from Heather.
‘James,
Sorry for not replying, I fell back asleep. I’m sorry no one there is helping you out. Were you able to go yet?’
James responded;
‘Yeah. I’m going right now.’
Immediately, his phone dinged again;
‘Don’t text me while you’re peeing! Pay attention! You’re gonna make a mess!’
‘No, it’s fine. I’m sitting down, I don’t gotta aim.’
‘Well, it’s still gross!’
James laughed slightly, then his phone dinged one more time. This time, Ethan was the one checking up on him.
‘James, are you alright? I just saw the time, and I know this is a lot longer than you’re usually okay waiting. If you’ve had an accident, that’s fine, I’ll make you all your favorite foods tonight and we can watch your favorite movies, and I’ll cuddle you until you forget all about it. I promise.’
James smiled, shivering as another wave of relief hit him. He looked at the clock on his phone. It had been five hours since his last pee. Five hours! His longest hold yet! He felt proud as he texted Ethan back.
‘I’m fine. I made it. I’m going now and I feel all better.’
‘Silly James… Don’t text and pee at the same time, it will get messy!’
‘It’s alright, I sat down. I had to go so bad that I knew my legs would do that wobbly thingy again and I’d have a hard time standing.’
‘Oh. Well, then I bet you look super cute right now :)’
James’s waterfall abruptly stopped a few seconds later. He pushed, trying to make sure he’d really gotten the last of it out of him. He was empty… Wow, he didn’t think he’d ever peed so hard, or for so long, in his life. That was way over a minute of gushing, and so loud that if anyone was on the other side of the door, they probably thought the sink faucet was busted!
James stood and pulled up his pants. After washing his hands, he sent one more message to Ethan;
‘Have you gotten to go yet?’
The response was fast;
‘Yeah, just finished a few minutes ago. That was CLOSE.’
James blushed. He was going to ask Ethan for more details, but he really didn’t want to have… certain reactions to those details right now. Ethan could tell him all about it this evening.
James exited the restroom and left the teacher’s lounge. He started to walk down the hallway and back to the classroom. On his way there, he passed the student restrooms again and something made him stop. The door opened, and the boy from James’s last class stumbled out with a deeply pained look on his face, and his body partially doubled over. The boy squeezed his eyes shut as he crossed his legs, jiggling up and down.
James had been about ninety-nine percent sure that those questions this kid had been asking weren’t to do with a ‘cousin’ at all, but this had confirmed that. Poor guy, it must have been really awful to go into a bathroom to pee and have to leave it still feeling desperate! “Are you okay?” James asked gently.
The boy’s eyes flew open and he looked up. James watched while he painstakingly attempted to straighten himself out, and failed miserably. “N—No,” the boy admitted. “I— How bad does a catheter hurt?”
James flinched. He’d never had one put in, so he didn’t know. He had seen diagrams though, and they certainly didn’t LOOK very pleasant.
“I— I don’t know what to do,” the boy said tearfully. “I tried going to the nurse so my Mom would have to pick me up, but I don’t have a fever so he won’t call her. And— And he says there’s nothing wrong with me, but— There IS.”
James frowned. Even if this boy didn’t have a fever, it should have been obvious to the school’s nurse that SOMETHING was causing him a lot of trouble.
“He told me to just go pee, and I tried to do it in his office, but he was right there by the door. I couldn’t…” The boy ran a hand through his hair, agitated. “Ugh— I’m such an idiot!”
“You’re not,” James said. “You just have to use the restroom. That’s all.”
“But, I can’t go at school,” the boy said. “Or ANYWHERE out in public, and I’m usually so careful! I pee before school every day, and I always have to go real bad by the time I get home, but I can MANAGE that. But, I forgot to pee before leaving the house today, and I can’t— It really, really hurts, and I still can’t go.”
James wasn’t sure what to do. He felt awful for this kid; He’d missed his morning pee and now it was lunch time. “When did you last… Um…”
“Yesterday, at like, eight in the evening…” the boy replied tearfully.
Oh. He’d held it SO long already, and school didn’t let out for another several hours— Not even factoring in how long it would take this kid to get back to his house. James wished he knew some way to help. This boy really COULD hurt himself, have some of those bad things Ethan’s psychology book had mentioned happen to him.
Ethan…
James knew he wasn’t a therapist, but he didn’t think he needed to be licensed to help with just this ONE thing, right? It was an emergency, after all. All James had to do was pretend he was Ethan for a few minutes, and maybe he’d come up with an answer.
First thing Ethan said he always did was stress to a patient that he was a safe person to talk to, that he could be trusted, and that everything he heard would stay a secret. “I want to help, I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” James said. “Can you tell me what makes you nervous about using public bathrooms? I promise, I won’t say it to anyone else.”
“I— It’s dumb, but… Someone hearing. Knowing that I’m… You know. Or seeing me. I’ve never been able to use urinals. And the gaps in the stalls are too big, they’re like windows. I… Can’t.”
James nodded. He understood the desire for privacy, but he was surprised that this desire could make someone’s bladder refuse to empty itself when it was so obviously full. “Okay,” he said. “Um…” He still had the key to the teacher’s lounge… “What if you are in a bathroom that’s just for ONE person? And the door’s locked, and nobody is near it? Can you go then?”
“Y—Yeah,” the boy said. “I would have been able to go in the nurse’s office if he’d just left for a couple minutes, but he wouldn’t.”
“Alright,” James said. “I think I know how to help.” He probably WASN’T supposed to bring students into the teacher’s lounge, but this seemed like a good enough reason to break a rule. “There’s somewhere that I think you can pee. Come with me.”
The boy looked skeptical, but followed James anyway. James slowed down his pace so that the kid to keep up. Poor guy was having so much trouble walking— Just as much trouble as James had been having earlier!
Luckily, the teacher’s lounge was close. James unlocked it and stepped inside, relieved to see it was still empty. “Okay,” he said. “There is a bathroom in that corner. Nice and private, the door locks super tight, and I will wait all the way out in the hall while you go. I won’t hear you at all, I promise.”
The boy rushed in. James closed the door to the teacher’s lounge… And locked it again, for good measure. He didn’t think the boy would notice, but figured he wouldn’t mind the extra security. No way would anyone walk in there before he was done peeing.
James waited quietly in the hall. He really hoped that his idea was going to work. He didn’t like seeing anyone in pain… And, there was no way that kid could hold it the rest of the day, he’d get really, really hurt if his body forced him to do that. ‘If it doesn’t work, should I go find the nurse and tell him he HAS to call this guy’s Mom? Oh, that would probably embarrass him a lot… I hope I don’t have to do that!’
A few minutes later, James heard the doorknob being jiggled, then some knocking. James reached to unlock the door again, and the boy walked out— Obviously feeling WAY better. He was able to stand up all the way, and take normal steps rather than the tiny, panicked ones he’d been barely managing earlier.
Still, James asked. “Did that help?”
“Y—Yeah!” the boy said. “I— Thank you. I don’t think anybody else would have let me in there— I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
James smiled, feeling proud of himself. And, he thought, if he’d been able to pee earlier in the day when he’d WANTED to, he WOULDN’T have been in the exact spot that boy needed him to be at the exact time he needed him there. That, to James, made all his embarrassment and painful desperation worth it. |
Written for the Omovember prompt "On Someone's Lap".
As the prompt implies, this one does veer slightly more into watersports for a bit.
***
It was Saturday, and that meant Ethan and James had the entire day to themselves. The previous night, James had suggested that Ethan get desperate today, and Ethan had agreed. It had been a while since he’d last held his bladder for fun, and he couldn’t wait to see James blush at the sight of him squirming. Not to mention, all of the extra cuddling James was sure to give him as his bladder filled.
That morning, Ethan woke up unusually desperate for his morning pee, however. He thought it over, and recalled the big glass of water he’d had before heading to sleep. His hips wriggled slightly as he groggily sat up, feeling his bladder slosh hard against his opening.
Wow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been quite this full immediately after waking. The restroom wasn’t far, and his bladder was nudging him in that direction, but… He didn’t really want to waste his urine, it would take him a while to fill up to this level again.
James got up a few minutes later, his own hands fisting needfully against the crotch of his pajama pants. That was how James looked most mornings, his bladder demanded his immediate attention every day. He looked over at Ethan, noticing how wriggly his partner was. “You gotta go already?”
“Woke up really needing to…” Ethan admitted. “Looks like you need it a lot more, though.”
“I do,” James agreed. “Come on.”
Ethan obediently followed James to the restroom, knowing already that the other had no intention of allowing him to use it. James lifted the seat and pulled down his pants, immediately letting go. “Ahhhhh…..” he moaned. “Great way to start the day!”
Ethan’s legs crossed as he watched and listened to James’s stream gushing out. “I— I bet it is…” he said.
“The first pee’s always real hard to hold!” James continued. “You didn’t go ALL night, so there’s so much in there that has to come out!”
Ethan’s thighs twisted. “Y—Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s worse if you drank a bunch of water before bed…”
“Heheh,” James giggled as he finished up and flushed the toilet. “Is that what you did?”
“Yeah…”
“Oh, how silly of you,” James mock-scolded. “You must have a TON in there, huh?” He poked a finger into Ethan’s lower stomach, laughing more as his partner bent forward slightly and winced.
“Oooh,” Ethan gritted. “I… Um…” he looked at the toilet, then back to James whom had begun to wash his hands. “May I…?”
James turned around. It had been a sweet beg, music to James’s ears, but they were nowhere near Ethan’s limit yet. James kissed his cheek. “You may not,” he said. “Hold all that in tight, okay?”
“Okay…” Ethan agreed.
The day progressed like most of Ethan’s holds did, James filled Ethan’s coffee mug up to the very top and made sure he drank every drop. “Want you to be good and hydrated for the day!” he said. Then, they sat on the couch and cuddled, Ethan occasionally mumbling to James that he really would like to go pee soon.
The difference now was that, normally this early into a hold, Ethan’s pleas and squirms were mostly an act— A bit of teasing for James’s enjoyment. But, today, Ethan really was feeling pretty desperate already. It was taking a concentrated effort to keep his urine from flowing out of him, and his body was giving him no choice but to bounce and fidget.
James was wrapped around him, though. Kissing him, snuggling him, telling him that it was nowhere near time to pee yet, and that he needed to hold it. So, Ethan held it. And when James squeezed himself against Ethan’s throbbing midsection, Ethan gritted his teeth and hissed “Ahhh, you’re making it worse!”
James gave him one more kiss. “But you’re holding it,” he whispered. “You’re doing such a good job… Who’s a good boy?”
Ethan blushed crimson at the words. He’d hold it all day if he got to hear more like it. “I—I am…”
“Yes you are!” James agreed, running a hand through Ethan’s hair. “Such a good boy!”
“I really gotta pee, though…”
“I know you do,” James agreed, running a hand down Ethan’s body, it paused over the already taut ball of pressure in his midsection. His eyes widened when he felt it. He knew Ethan’s bladder could bulge out like that sometimes, but it was still awful early in the game for that to be happening. Still, he smiled and drummed his fingers over the swell. “What’s this?”
Ethan wriggled, his eyes pinching closed and his teeth gnashing. James wasn’t jamming his fingertips into his bladder, wasn’t squeezing it, but just those gentle taps were enough to send it into convulsions. “Ah— Th—That’s… Ah— You KNOW what it is!”
“I don’t think I do,” James grinned tauntingly. “Feels very firm…” he poked at it some more, making Ethan’s hips jerk as his head tipped back with a moan. “Oh, and it looks like you don’t like to have it touched…”
“Th—That’s my bladder… I—Oooh, I need to go!” Ethan squealed, his hands flew between his legs and clasped there desperately. “May I now? Please?”
James stopped prodding Ethan’s bladder, which he was grateful for. But, he then shook his head, which Ethan wasn’t grateful for at all. “No,” James told him. “No peeing yet. Maybe later, if I feel like it… For now, you look really sweaty. Poor thing, you’re dehydrated!”
Ethan knew he was hydrated enough for the both of them. He shook his head. “N—Not thirsty…”
“It’s important to get enough water,” James said. “Wait there, I’ll go get you some.”
James retrieved Ethan a glass of water and handed it to him. Then, watched carefully as Ethan forced it all down his throat. Ethan’s eyes blew wide open as he swallowed the first gulp, as if the liquid had instantly nestled itself inside his bladder. He was shaking like mad by the time he’d finished the glass.
“There’s a good boy!” James praised. “All better now!”
Ethan didn’t feel all better, but he felt pretty good hearing James call him that again.
He could hold it.
He held it all through the morning, growing more and more antsy all the while. By lunchtime, Ethan couldn’t sit still. His urge had gone past desperate, and into a full-blown NEED that was beyond his control. “J—James,” Ethan stammered, twisting and turning as he sat at the table. “I really, really, REALLY need to go right now. Please, could I—“
“Hmmm…” James tapped his chin in thought for several seconds, trying not to grin as Ethan’s frantic squirming increased in speed the longer he pretended to mull it over. “Nope,” he decided finally. “Finish your food— and the drink too— then we can talk more about it.”
Ethan ate his sandwich as fast as he could, barely tasting it. He had to hope James would let him go after lunch, his bladder felt stretched out and achy. He was about to reach for his water, when a massive pang flared through him and his hands dropped to his lap. He clutched away at himself, chewing hard on his lip as he breathed heavily through his nose.
James paused when he noticed Ethan having trouble breathing, “Um… Ethan, are you alright?”
“F—Fine, James,” Ethan said, releasing one hand from his dick so he could grab his water. “Just really need the toilet, that’s all.”
“If it’s hurting you,” James reminded. “Just say, and we’ll stop.”
Ethan paused, gave himself a moment to consider. WAS it hurting him? His bladder was seriously searing, and he felt the heat and pressure all down the length of his cock. His urethra was continually tingling with electric, staticky pulses. He’d needed to unbutton his pajamas to keep them from digging too firmly against his swollen abdomen. He’d had a few leaks…
But, none of it was exactly PAINFUlL. The achy feeling in his lower back that warned him he was holding in way too much urine hadn’t arrived yet. He had to go a lot, he was definitely very full, but it still only felt like he was desperate to urinate, not like he was in danger.
“No, it’s not hurting,” Ethan assured. “At least, not in the bad way.”
“Okay!” James smiled. “Good! Finish your water, then.”
Ethan obeyed. He was fascinated by the effect which consuming liquid had upon his body. He knew that there was no way all that fluid could really go from his mouth to his bladder in a matter of seconds. Yet, the knowledge and awareness that he was pumping more water into a body that was already overflowing with it was enough to make him FEEL like it had gotten there already. With each sip from his glass, his bladder spasmed and felt closer to totally bursting than it had just seconds prior.
He finally set the glass down.
“Yay!” James said. “Good job!”
Ethan smiled, but it was more like a grimace. “C—Could I go now?”
“Nope, gotta give that water time to move through you!” James said. “That way, when you go you’ll get rid of ALL of it and won’t have to pee again.”
Ethan saw flaws in James’s logic, but went along with it anyway. He was having fun. It was so nice to give up control sometimes. So nice to have James taking care of him. James would take him to pee at the exact moment he could stand it no longer, Ethan didn’t have to worry about handling it himself.
They returned to the bedroom, and James flipped on the TV as they cuddled some more. Neither of them paid attention to the movie that was on, both were far more focused on Ethan’s bladder and the considerable effort it was taking for him to keep it shut.
“Come here…” James said, pulling Ethan in closer, until Ethan was sitting in his lap. “You’re so…” he brushed some sweaty hair out of Ethan’s face for him. “You’re really bursting, aren’t you?”
“I—I am…” Ethan agreed. He was rocking now, pressing himself against James’s body for support. “I need to go so much…”
James drew their lips together for a long kiss. As he explored his partner’s mouth, he found even Ethan’s tongue was radiating with tension. He deepened the kiss when he heard Ethan start to mewl.
Ethan broke them apart, “May I please—“
“Tell me how bad you need it,” James prodded, starting to rub Ethan’s back.
“So much…” Ethan repeated. “Feels like there’s a melon pushing against my other organs… If I relax anything at all, I’m gonna go…”
James kissed him again, “Hold it,” he breathed into Ethan’s mouth. “Be a good boy, and hold it for me, okay?”
Ethan squirmed hard, his hand clutching away at himself. He could feel dampness around his crotch. He’d already lost a lot of pee throughout the day. “I… I haven’t been in so long, James…”
James glanced over his shoulder, “About 1PM now,” he informed.
“God, I haven’t pissed since 9 last night…” Ethan said. “Oooh, it’s gonna come out!”
“Make it stay in…” James said, giving him another kiss. “Be good, it needs to stay in.”
“I have to let it out, though… Can’t keep it in forever.”
“Soon,” James promised, rubbing Ethan’s back more and more. “You’ll pee soon, you’ll feel better…”
Ethan leaned against James, resting his head against his chest and listening to his heart beat. James’s heart was pounding extremely quickly. Ethan could feel his own doing the same, but for different reasons. That last glass of water he’d consumed really seemed to be hitting him in that moment. His bladder felt like it was rolling around within him, crashing, twisting, turning, knotting up on itself. There was an odd sensation right at the base of his cock, an intense, warm pressure.
“Good boy…” James continued to encourage as Ethan shakily rested on him. He kissed the top of Ethan’s head. “Hold it in now, such a great job… You’re just so good at holding it…”
Ethan was twitching all over, he felt the pressure everywhere now. Felt like every part of his body was being filled to its limit. Felt like urine was clogging his sinuses, flowing through the veins in his arms and legs. His body was trying so hard to find room for all his water, but there was none left. “James…” he moaned against his partner’s chest.
James paused once more. Ethan was awful shaky… “Can you keep going?” he asked. “No pain, right?”
Ethan shook his head. It still wasn’t hurting him. He still just felt like he really needed a urinal. Ohhh, God, what he wouldn’t give to be at a urinal right now… Just the thought of unzipping his fly and relaxing for a few minutes was so beautiful… There was a pinching sensation at the tip of his cock, and he tightened his hand around it when he felt a single drop escape.
“That’s good…” James said. “Just hold on… I promise you’ll be allowed to go soon, I promise…”
Ethan let James’s words wash over him. They sounded so pleasant to him, so good… Ethan’s body kept flashing hot every time he heard James call him ‘good boy’, he grew more and more determined to hold it in.
James gave another kiss to Ethan’s cheek. “Good boy… Very good boy…” he cooed softly. “Holding all that in even when he needs to let it out SO bad… Such a good, well behaved boy…”
Ethan snuggled into James, he honestly wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, full bladder and all…
“Such a—“ James’s voice broke off, and a squeak emitted from his mouth when he felt warmth rapidly spreading over his crotch. A small hissing noise filled the room, and even after focusing on this exact subject all day, James didn’t realize what was happening until Ethan’s head suddenly bolted up.
“I—I’m sorry!” Ethan cried out. “I’m sorry! I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!” His bladder had BURST, very suddenly. One second, he was holding it at bay, the next it was spraying out everything it had and no amount of clenching would get it to stop. His boxers were already drenched, his white pajama pants were nearly translucent from all the liquid being dumped through them, and as more and more pee forcibly ejected itself from Ethan’s body, he tried as hard as he could to put the cork back into his bladder. But, it was no use. All his attempts to tighten his muscles back up only succeeded in making his piss spray out even faster, all over himself, all over the bed, all over… James… “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m really, really sorry!”
For the first few seconds— the longest of Ethan’s life— James didn’t react. His face turned beet-red when he realized what was happening; Ethan was having an accident. A very, very REAL accident. From the nonstop stream of apologies that were pouring from his mouth as fast as pee was pouring from his bladder, it was blatantly clear how much he had not meant or WANTED for this to happen.
This right now was a pure loss of bladder control. Ethan had gotten so full that his body genuinely couldn’t take it and had made the decision to let go FOR him.
Ethan was still in his lap, apparently so stunned that he couldn’t move. ‘He’s going on you…’ James thought dimly. He felt the wet heat spraying against him, pooling warmly around his crotch as if HE was the one peeing his pants. But, he wasn’t… There was something of a vibrating feeling to the whole thing too, Ethan’s pee was hissing out so fast that it created a buzzing sensation over James’s crotch. ‘He really, really couldn’t hold this…’ James thought. ‘Ohhh, he’s still going, he was so full, he just lost it completely…’
Ethan’s constant apologizing suddenly stopped cold when he felt something VERY stiff beginning to press into him, and the thing was growing bigger the more he peed… His face, if possible, got even redder.
James wasn’t upset by this turn of events, he was the farthest thing from being upset.
“I—It’s fine…” James murmured. “Just… Let it out now… Poor thing, you had to go bad…” He resumed rubbing Ethan’s back.
“I— But, I’m on—“
“Don’t move…” James said. “Unless you REALLY want to, but… Stay here, please?”
Ethan didn’t move, he stayed right where he was, resting on top of his partner, voiding his bladder for the first time in what felt like ages. He released a way overdue moan of relief, “Ahhhhh…”
“Th—That feel good, Ethan?” James asked breathlessly. “All better, right? Just let it out… There’s a good boy…”
“B—Better…” Ethan agreed. “Th—Thank you…” He shivered hard as his stream finally ceased. “…Done now…” he informed a few seconds later.
They both just stayed there for a moment. James was in a complete daze, utterly blissed out as he stared at Ethan. That had felt… God, that had felt incredible… Ethan had broken his limit. He’d had a full and complete loss of control, and pissed like crazy for over two minutes, all… All over him… He was covered in Ethan’s piss.
He… Should have been upset about that, surely? Or, if not upset, just… Grossed out, right? In all the time he’d spent fantasizing about pee, the idea of being urinated ON had never crossed his mind as something he’d like, but today…
Today had been fantastic. Maybe it was just the fact that he KNEW Ethan had lost control of himself for real today, that he had NOT wanted to pee right then and simply hadn’t been able to stop himself. Maybe THAT was why today’s events had managed to be the single hottest thing James had ever experienced in his entire life.
But, having the warm liquid spraying onto him had felt really good, too. Especially having it hit and drench his most sensitive parts like that…
Oh, James didn’t know what exactly had made this so enjoyable, but either way he’d LOVED this and wanted to do it AGAIN.
“I’m… Sorry…” Ethan stated once more. “I really, REALLY did NOT mean to do that on you.”
“It’s okay…” James assured once more. “I… That felt… Really good…”
“It…” Ethan trailed off. He’d assumed James had enjoyed that, judging by the stiff cock he’d felt poking into him, but he hadn’t expected James to admit to that right away. Ethan looked down, finding James was still hard as a rock. “You liked that, huh?”
“I dunno why, I liked how it felt when it was landing on me, and I liked how I knew it was a REAL accident and you’d actually just… BURST and couldn’t hold it,” James rambled.
“I REALLY couldn’t…” Ethan agreed.
“Is it okay that I liked it?” James asked.
“Yeah, of course that’s okay,” Ethan said. “I’d prefer THAT over you getting mad about it!”
“Can we do it again?” James asked.
Ethan laughed, “Um… Yeah, I guess I could go on you again sometime. But let’s clean up all this first. And NEXT time, let’s do that in the shower instead.” |
Written for the Omovember prompt “Peeing From A High-Up Place”.
The patient Ethan is thinking about in this chapter is Emmett, who shows up in one of my other fics “Germaphobia.”
***
Miles was Ethan’s oldest friend— And childhood crush, too; the first in a long line of unobtainable straight men Ethan had found himself pining over before he’d met James. Even if Miles had been unable to return Ethan’s feelings for him, they’d remained close friends all their lives and met together monthly, usually James accompanied them.
James was aware his boyfriend had once harbored romantic feelings for Miles, but he didn’t feel threatened by the other man in any way. Even if Miles hadn’t been straight, the way Ethan looked at James was so different from how he looked at Miles. It was clear whom he was in love with now.
It was still sort of awkward to think about how Ethan probably used to fantasize about Miles from time to time. Last month, when they’d all gone to a waterpark together, James had seen Miles without a shirt and could admit that he DID understand what Ethan had seen in the guy, though.
This month, they were going to a carnival. James was super excited, he loved all the rides and the food. Ethan was less enthusiastic “I don’t think I really TRUST the rides at these things,” Ethan told him as they waited outside their home for Miles.
“‘Trust’ them?” James repeated. “What’s that mean? You think they’re gonna try and pick-pocket you?”
Ethan laughed, “Ha, no… But, think about it; They’re carted around all over the country, disassembled and reassembled lots of times. Probably not super sturdy or well put together.”
“But, fearing for your life is half the fun,” James said. “Remember, like when I took you zip-lining! You were SO scared, but afterwards you said it was fun.”
“Y—Yeah,” Ethan said, recalling that trip. “I still think you only suggested that because you knew it would make me cling onto you as tight as humanly possible.”
“Heh, maybe,” James said. “I should take you on a real tall ride today!”
“You shouldn’t,” Ethan said. “I’ll probably pee my pants.”
“Even better!”
Ethan blushed, looking away. “Eheh, ummm… When Miles picks us up, make sure you don’t say anything… Related to… That.”
“Of course,” James said. That was a new thing; James’s mouth tended to work a lot faster than his brain. And, since he was now so comfortable casually bringing up the kinkier aspects of their relationship to Ethan, he occasionally blurted out something when they were with another person.
Last month, when they’d gone to the waterpark and James had watched Ethan guzzle a very large slushy, he’d started to poke his belly a bit and tease him. “Uh oh, I hope we don’t have to wait in a long line beside one of those noisy water slides…”
The comment may have been seen as typical ribbing, but the way James had stroked over Ethan’s bladder region had made Miles raise a brow. James realized that it probably looked and sounded strange, and quickly started to tickle Ethan instead, deciding THAT probably seemed a bit more normal.
Another issue that had arisen as they’d explored their kink together, was that Ethan was suddenly having a more difficult time telling someone who WASN’T James that he needed to go. The new way his mind viewed urination caused him to feel awkward discussing it with anyone whom he wasn’t intimate with.
Which had led to him getting slightly desperate a few times while on one of these trips with Miles— The easiest thing for him to do was wait until Miles had to go and then quietly join him. But, he and Miles’s bladders weren’t exactly in sync with each other, so he’d find himself waiting for long periods of time.
It was easier if James was accompanying them, because James had to pee so frequently Ethan didn’t have to wait long to be able to go with him.
A car pulled up to the sidewalk, and Miles got out to open the backdoors for them. In the backseat, James slung his arm around Ethan.
“Either of you get carsick?” Miles asked, opening the glovebox. “I brought some tablets that are supposed to help with—“
“We’ve known each other for years,” Ethan stated. “You know we don’t get carsick.”
Miles sighed, “I just like to be prepared, in case you suddenly are.”
Ethan sighed. Miles was always ‘prepared’, usually for things that were extremely unlikely to happen. He liked to organize everything and plan ahead so far in advance it was sort of ridiculous. “I know I’m not YOUR therapist, but have you ever considered you may have—“
“Stop diagnosing people,” Miles interrupted as they drove off. “You’re supposed to relax today.”
“I wasn’t making a formal diagnosis,” Ethan said. “Simply suggesting that your tendency to always see the worst potential outcomes and stress yourself out could indicate—“
“Ethan,” James said. “It’s good Miles plans for stuff… He’s smart, he worries about things I’d never even think of!”
Ethan blinked at him. “That’s exactly my point…”
James looked out the window. It was going to be a long drive to the carnival, and he was noticing now that he hadn’t peed right before leaving the house. He’d gone when he’d woken up, but he really should have done it a second time just before stepping outside. To be safe. His bladder was so finicky, after all.
Miles probably never EVER forgot to go pee right before leaving somewhere. Looking back, James had never seen the guy squirmy or desperate. He’d seen him excuse himself to the toilet lots of times, but never with any real urgency. ‘I think he’s too responsible to let himself get that desperate,’ James thought to himself. ‘Bet if something ever went wrong and he ended up needing to go real bad, he’d panic over it…’
James turned his knees in towards each other. He probably shouldn’t think about pee right now… He already knew he was gonna have to request a stop— Maybe even two— before they were at the carnival, but he wanted to hold off at least a little while longer before he started asking.
Thirty minutes later, and James was fidgeting and squirming and aware that if he didn’t go pee soon, it was going to be a problem. “Miles?” James asked. “I need the toilet…”
Miles laughed lightly under his breath. He was used to James repeatedly needing toilet breaks whenever they drove anywhere. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Ethan ever got annoyed with it. Miles didn’t mind it now, but he only drove James around once a month at the most. Ethan did it all the time…
Miles found a gas station quickly and James frantically fumbled his seatbelt apart and bolted from the car. “B—Be right back!” he stammered, forehead sweaty from how bad he needed to go.
Ethan watched him dash off, and watched Miles calmly follow after him. Ethan didn’t feel even the slightest twinge in his bladder, so he stayed where he was.
James, meanwhile, threw open the door to the men’s room and scrambled in front of a urinal, yanking down his zipper and immediately gushing a thick, forceful stream. “Ahhh…” he smiled to himself.
Miles gave a short half-laugh as he entered the room. That noise James had made was just so funny to him. He took one of the other urinals and allowed his bladder to relax. He didn’t have to go very much, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Miles finished after a few seconds.
James kept peeing a while longer, then when his stream slowed to a stop and he’d zipped his pants back up again, he announced; “Oh, I beat you!”
Miles just stared at him. Beat him? “You mean how you got here first…?” he ventured.
“No, I mean, I peed for longer than you did,” James explained. “I usually can’t go longer than someone else.”
Miles kept staring, a little confused. He didn’t think he’d ever really paid attention to how long another person in the restroom peed compared to himself. He hadn’t thought ANYONE did that. Then again, James had always been kind of quirky, amused by very simple things most people wouldn’t notice. “Um… Yeah, I guess you did…”
James realized he’d just said a weird thing again, like last month at the waterpark. “I— I mean, I just… I guess when you have to go all the time, like I do, you start to notice and think about that stuff more… I don’t know.”
Miles smiled at him as they went to the sinks. As he washed his hands, he realized that he HAD paid attention to the length of someone else’s pee ONE time before. “I… I guess you and Ethan are, like, opposites when it comes to that?” he commented, unsure why he was bringing it up.
“Hm?” James asked, drying his hands off.
“I dunno if he still does it, I haven’t paid attention, or whatever… But, when we were kids, Ethan had this habit of getting super busy with something, and kinda putting off bathroom trips ’til the last minute.”
James blushed. ‘Don’t say anything else weird!’ he ordered himself. So, looking away, he stammered; “I don’t know if he st—still does that either.”
“He never, like, wet himself from it,” Miles said. “I only ever saw him have an accident twice, I think. Once was our first day of Kindergarten because the teacher kept ignoring him when he tried to ask to use the toilet, and another time was when he got scared super badly and, I guess, had an anxiety attack. But, other than that, it was like he always just put it off as long as possible and then made it right on time.”
James was blushing more now. “W—Well, I think he has probably grown out of that by now.”
“Yeah, probably,” Miles agreed. “Still, I’d say he’s probably the opposite of you when it comes to this. We peed together a few times when we were kids, and he always went for a long time. I never really thought about it until you brought it up, though.”
James was so red he was trying to shield his face from view with his hands. “Heheh,” he laughed anxiously. “Well… Um, Ethan’s probably wondering what’s taking us so long…”
The two left, and James sat back down beside Ethan. Ethan was blushing too, looking away from him, as if he somehow KNEW what James had been talking about in there.
“Feeling better?” Ethan whispered.
“Yeah…” James whispered back.
They kept driving. James did end up needing another pee before they arrived, and by the time they were at the carnival, he was squirming in his seat yet again. James bounced in his place while they waited to buy tickets. “Nnnh, why can’t they put a toilet BEFORE the entrance?” he whined.
Ethan took his hand. “It’s okay, you can do it. I believe in you!”
Miles snorted, “Shit, Ethan… You sound so dramatic!”
Ethan turned away, reddening. He’d just said something that he typically only said to James if James was trying to hold his pee for fun and wanted encouragement to continue…
They bought their tickets and headed into the carnival. James spotted the portable toilets immediately, crossing his legs, he said; “I gotta— Now!” and rushed towards them.
Miles shook his head. “So, does he pee EVERY hour?” he asked Ethan.
Ethan felt a peculiar, cold feeling in his belly. “Ummm… I don’t know. I haven’t ever kept track or anything. Heh, why would I do that? Unless he was sick… But, he’s not sick, so you don’t have to worry or think about it, or—“ He cut himself off. That had been a bit… Much…
“Well, that’s good,” Miles said. “Honestly I was a little concerned he had a UTI.”
Ethan exhaled slowly. Miles hadn’t seen his anxious rambling for what it was.
“If you think he might be coming down with one,” Miles said. “We can buy some cranberry juice on the way home for him to—“
“Miles, don’t worry. He’s okay,” Ethan promised.
“Alright,” Miles said. “I’d better go too, just to be safe…” He looked at Ethan for a moment. “Don’t you need to go yet at all?”
Ethan considered, and felt that there WAS a little bit of pressure in his midsection, certainly nothing major. He knew he could hold it quite a while longer with ease. “I’m fine, you go ahead.”
Miles left him.
Ethan stood off to the side and waited for his friends to return. He noticed the tingling in his bladder a bit more now that he was paying attention to it, but he had no urge to follow Miles. Ethan really, REALLY hated portable toilets, he’d NEVER been able to bring himself to use one. He was hoping to be able to leave here today before his bladder got full enough that he had no choice but to touch one of those things. He’d do his best to last the whole day, anyway.
Ethan wasn’t even usually fearful of germs, but something about a hot, plastic container stinking with human excrement made him want to cover himself from head to toe in hand sanitizer.
As he waited, Ethan thought about his patients as he often did. One of his patients had really serious contamination anxiety, the sort that took control over a person’s life and caused them to scrub themselves over and over in an attempt to get rid of muck only they could feel. Ethan imagined what would happen if this particular patient were to be somewhere that the only option for relief was a portaloo. ‘His phobias are so strong,’ Ethan thought. ‘He may even find wetting himself to be more palatable…. Oh dear, what if he’s hurt himself holding it before because the toilet was too gross? He’s never mentioned that, but what if that’s just because it embarrasses him? I shouldn’t just randomly ask that if he doesn’t bring it up, but now I’m really wor—‘
“Ahhh, all better!” James announced brightly as he rushed to stand beside Ethan and grasp his arm.
Ethan snapped out of his thoughts, reminding himself he wasn’t supposed to be stressing over his patients today. Especially not when he didn’t even KNOW if the problem he’d been thinking over actually existed or not.
“James, was there a place for you to clean your hands off?” Ethan asked him, staring at the hand around his arm.
“Um…” James turned back and forth. “Okay, there’s some hand sanitizer over there,” he said.
“Go use it,” Ethan said.
James walked away giggling. He was still laughing when he came back. “When’d you turn into a germaphobe?”
“I didn’t!” Ethan protested. “I’m just really, really grossed out by those things. If anything, I think I may have coprophobia, which is the—”
“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re gonna try and hold it all day…” said a voice from behind him.
Ethan spun around to see Miles. “I’m not,” he lied. “I just don’t need it right now. It’s fine.”
“Alright,” Miles said. “But, you remember that field trip in tenth grade, right?”
James’s ears perked up. Ethan had mentioned once that he’d been desperate on a school trip and accidentally ran into the women’s bathroom, was THIS that incident? Was he going to get to hear more about it?
“Yeah, I remember it,” Ethan said. “I promise, if it gets THAT bad today, I’ll go.”
“I hope so,” Miles said. “Because I might not be able to save you this time.”
James’s mind was buzzing. This sounded like it was probably a DIFFERENT incident than the women’s room one. And he couldn’t relate it to any of the tales of desperation Ethan had regaled him with when they were relaxing together, either. This was a story he hadn’t heard before, and one he WANTED to hear NOW.
Except, he didn’t know how to ask about it without appearing TOO interested to Miles. He could ask Ethan later once they were back home, but then his curiosity would be killing him all day.
Luckily, Ethan and Miles kept talking without James having to say a word.
“Oh, you didn’t SAVE me,” Ethan said.
“The Hell I didn’t,” Miles snorted. “Whole way through that dang zoo trip, you were muttering nonstop that you had to piss. I kept telling you to just go and you wouldn’t listen, kept saying you could ‘definitely hold it’. Next thing I know we’re behind the reptile house and you’re full-on crying to me that you can’t wait.”
“I was NOT crying.”
“I saw tears!”
“It was sweat!”
“Oh, I’m sure…” Miles said. “You got lucky as Hell that I’d gone ahead and saved my empty soda bottle for you.”
James felt his cheeks heating painfully as he pictured younger Ethan (possibly crying) as he choked out his immense need for relief. He felt warm in his chest too at the idea of Miles thinking to save an empty bottle just in case Ethan’s mouth proved to be bigger than his bladder.
“Well, I’m not gonna do it again,” Ethan said. “Like I said, if it’s THAT bad, I’ll use the stupid portaloo. But, I barely even need to go, so you don’t have to worry.”
“… Alright…” Miles said hesitantly. “Just don’t come crying to me when it goes wrong. Again.”
“I was NOT crying!”
James laughed lightly to himself as they kept walking. He was sort of hungry, but he wanted to go on some of the rides first. Some of them didn’t look like they’d be wise to get on with a full stomach. He tried to pick one that he thought Ethan might join him on, but that was tricky. So many of them were super tall.
In one of them, a person was locked inside a metal cage, spun around a whole bunch of times, lifted up super high and then slammed down almost against the ground before it started all over.
Ethan would not enjoy that.
But, putting him on it WOULD probably result in him getting his bladder empty without having to touch a portaloo…
Not that THAT was a big concern right now. James could tell just by looking at Ethan that he wasn’t feeling the least bit desperate.
Another ride was a cheap rollercoaster, it went pretty fast, but even its tallest hill wasn’t THAT high. “How about that one?” James asked Ethan, pointing at it.
“Nah, we should DEFINITELY get Ethan on THAT thing,” Miles said, pointing to the spinning cage contraption.
Ethan looked at that ride like it had just devoured his childhood dog and then spat on the remains. “No, we shouldn’t,” he said. “The rollercoaster is perfectly fine, James.”
“Yay!”
So, they went on the ride. Ethan did well with it, it wasn’t tall enough for him to get frightened. They went on a few more rides, none of them managing to make Ethan scream or flail. None giving James the opportunity to squeeze his hand. None giving Miles the chance to tease him.
After a while, they were all pretty hungry. James insisted that Ethan try all manner of ridiculous deep fried items that had been lodged onto a stick. Ethan indulged him, hoping that doing so wouldn’t take too many years off of his life.
Ethan also had some lemonade— They all did. But, when Miles and James went to take another pee break, Ethan chose again not to join them. “I hardly have to go,” he assured Miles when his friend gave him a concerned stare.
That wasn’t completely true. Ethan didn’t have to go badly, but he definitely DID need to go. In all the time he’d spent playing holding games with James, Ethan had gotten more adept at gauging his level of need and how quickly it was likely to skyrocket. Right now, his bladder was full enough that the thrums and pangs inside of it were coming at a constant rate. He could no longer brush them aside and was always aware they were there, always cognizant of the slight irritation in his bladder’s sensitive walls.
He was still hopeful, if not entirely confident, that he could hold it until they left. Odds were that he’d probably need to tell Miles to pull over the first chance he had, and Miles would likely give him some shit for it, but he wasn’t in any danger of disaster right now. This wasn’t like the zoo trip where he’d let his disgust for portable toilets overtake him until he needed a pee so badly he could hardly stand up and was… Okay, so maybe he WAS in tears… He wouldn’t let that happen again, he’d go before it reached that point.
Once James and Miles had finished, they went on some more rides. James managed to convince Miles to go on the spinning cage thing with him, but Ethan had refused. “I’d need therapy afterwards,” he told James.
“You ARE therapy,” James reminded, dashing off to join Miles in front of the ride.
Ethan watched as his friends rode. Just looking at the cages jolting, spinning and twisting was making him feel nauseas. He could barely imagine what it must have been like inside of the thing. To say nothing of the immense height, being drug up so far into the air and spun around a bunch of times sounded like a nightmare.
Picturing himself enduring it, Ethan became suddenly acutely aware that his bladder’s situation had worsened when a little flare of pressure pinched at his opening. He pressed his legs together, fidgeting just slightly where he stood. Quickly, the urge subsided, but it came back when he looked at the twirling cages again. Like, his fear of the ride was somehow having an effect on his bladder.
‘That’s ridiculous,’ he thought. He knew the brain was a powerful thing, but he’d only peed himself out of fear one time before. It was just silly that his bladder would be acting up when the scary thing wasn’t even happening to HIM.
Still, he couldn’t deny that he definitely needed the toilet a lot worse than he had a few minutes ago. There was a bit of a harsh pull inside him now, his urine trying to squeeze its way out and down the shaft of his penis.
He turned around, no longer facing the ride, and squeezed his eyes closed. ‘You barely have to go,’ he told himself. ‘Only a little bit. You can wait until later. Don’t have to touch one of those grody things.
Ethan spun back around when he heard James calling his name, stumbling away from the ride in a daze.
Ethan then spent the next several minutes rubbing James’s shoulders for comfort as he leaned against a garbage can and tried not to let his stomach revolt against him.
Once James was reasonably sure that he wasn’t going to be sick, and the world around him stopped swirling, he mumbled “I think I gotta pee again…”
Miles had caught up. “Again? Didn’t you just go?”
“Sometimes I have to go more if I get scared,” James said. “Ethan’s the same.”
They went back to the toilet area, and Ethan’s bladder surged at the sight of it. His body recognized an opportunity for relief even if his brain didn’t want to. He looked a bit more closely at the area this time. Sometimes, places like this had outdoor urinals. He didn’t really like THOSE very much, either; They were really just big plastic structures with a small opening on each of the four sides to pee into. There was zero privacy, he really would just be pulling himself out and going where anyone walking by would see. But, it would definitely be LESS disgusting than one of the regular outdoor toilets.
He scanned up and down the line of port-a-potties, trying to find the more appealing structure, but it didn’t look like they’d set up any urinals here.
Ethan would just hold it then, he didn’t need to go THAT much. It was just… Just a constant, achey little spasm in his middle and a pulsating pressure at the tip of his cock. Not an emergency. It was okay.
Ethan didn’t notice he’d been rocking on his feet until Miles said something. “Ethan,” he said. “What are you—“
“I was… Er… Trying to see if they had any of those outside urinals here,” Ethan admitted. He was hoping now that he’d just overlooked them and that Miles would point one out to him.
“I don’t think they do,” Miles said. “If you need to go, you’re gonna have to—“
“I don’t need to go,” Ethan interrupted. “I— I mean… I do. But not that bad. I have it under control.”
Miles sighed. “Ethan…”
James returned, looking a lot less pale and shaky. He stared at Ethan, and the way his feet were bouncing. “Do you have to go, too?”
“A little,” Ethan said. “Really. Guys. Stop worrying about it. I can wait.”
Miles didn’t seem to believe him, but James nodded. “I’m sure you can! You’re good at holdi—“ He stopped himself when he saw Ethan’s eyes going very wide. “At— At… Everything. You are good at everything. So, that means you’re probably good at holding it. Not that I would know, or pay attention, or anything like that! I didn’t even know that you had a bladder until just now!”
James was sure he’d managed to avert disaster, but when he turned Miles was giving him a very, very strange look again. “James, did you get TOO dizzy?” he asked. “You’re acting weird, even for you.”
“I—I’m fine,” James said, blushing.
“Maybe we should sit down for a second,” Miles decided.
They found a bench and took a seat. The redness in James’s cheeks didn’t die down. Neither did Ethan’s fidgeting. In fact, he grew more restless the longer they sat there. Now, away from the excitement of the carnival, Ethan didn’t have anything to distract himself from his bladder, and it was determined to make it very clear to him exactly how engorged and full he was.
He crossed one leg over the other, rocking subtly.
Or, at least, he’d thought it was subtle.
“Ethan,” Miles said. “Go.”
“I can wait,” Ethan promised.
“We’re here to have fun,” Miles reminded. “How can you have any fun if you’re desperate to piss?”
Ethan could think of a few answers to that, but he didn’t give any of them.
James couldn’t stop himself from laughing, though.
Miles tilted his head and regarded James with a great deal of concern. “Uh… James.”
“Y—Y—Yes?” James asked between fits of giggles.
“You good?”
“Haha, yes!” James assured. “I’m fine! Why?”
“Well, you’ve been saying weird things that don’t make sense, now you’re laughing at nothing… Did you hit your head when you were on that ride?”
“Nope, I’m…. Laughing at Ethan,” James decided. “He’s… Being silly. And he’s doing a really cute dance, and—“
“Cu—“
“Funny,” James corrected himself. “I meant to say funny. Look at him, twisting his legs all up like that!”
It was Ethan’s turn to blush. Before James could say anything else, Ethan shot to his feet. “O—Okay, I think that’s enough of a rest! Let’s— Let’s go do something else now.”
“Like take you to the toilet before you break something?” Miles asked.
“No,” Ethan groaned. “I’m okay, stop worrying about that. If you keep talking about it, you’ll just make me have to go badly for real.”
Miles looked at Ethan as he jumped from foot to foot on his shaky, tense legs. He wasn’t sure why Ethan didn’t think he ALREADY had to ‘go badly for real’. “Okay…” he said.
“Good,” Ethan stood still for a moment with his toes pointed together. All this discussion was brutal on his bladder and he really had to… He really had to stop thinking about peeing! The need had grown in the time he’d spent on the bench, his bladder spasming hard at startlingly quick intervals.
He started walking, passing all the food stalls and a few of the rides they’d already been on. Biting down on his lip, he glanced around not too sure what he was actually looking for. Maybe there WERE some of those ever-so-slightly-more-hygienic, outdoor urinals here and they were just in a different area?
Every few steps, his bladder would slosh hard against his sphincters and he would have to fight hard not to stop dead in his tracks and scissor his legs.
An idea was beginning to half-form inside his head; The carnival was in a huge field, and at the outskirts of the field there were TONS of trees. Before he’d even consciously put the pieces together, he was walking off in that direction. His body started preparing for relief as soon as his eyes had locked onto a tree in the distance. God… Just the thought of unzipping in front of it and draining away all of these awful pangs…
His daydream shattered to bits when Miles took hold of his wrist. “Where are you going? There isn’t anything that way.”
Ethan opened his mouth to protest, to stammer “There’s trees! I can pee there! You said that you want me to pee, right?” But, something stopped him. If it had been James that grabbed him, then he didn’t think he’d have a problem explaining what he intended to do. It just didn’t feel the same with Miles. So, instead he said “Oh, yeah. I thought I saw something.” And he didn’t even allow himself to give the trees another look as he followed after Miles.
It was okay, Ethan just had to make it to the end of the day. He could do that. He knew he could do that.
An hour later Ethan was struggling hard not to pee dance too obviously as he, James and Miles played a few games. Twisting his legs together, jiggling on his toes, hopping urgently from one foot to the other, Ethan’s bladder was demanding that he MOVE.
James could barely keep his eyes off the desperate man. His chest flamed with arousal, then tightened with sympathy. Two conflicting emotions battling for dominance inside him. He couldn’t deny that Ethan’s fidgeting and writhing was delicious to look at, but he still wished there was a way he could alleviate his poor partner’s suffering.
The knowledge that Ethan was more or less doing this to himself made James feel a little less guilty about being entertained by his discomfort.
Ethan kept shooting James pleading looks. If he and James had gone here by themselves, he’d have whispered, “I gotta go on a tree, I can’t take it anymore. Please, please come with me and keep watch!” ages ago.
Soon, James was playing one of the games, he tossed a ball at a stack of bottles and knocked a few over. He turned back around. “There,” he said to Ethan. “Told you they weren’t all glued on.”
“Th—The ones on the bottom of the pyramid are,” Ethan said breathlessly. “Th—They make it so you can knock down some of them to trick you into trying more times.” Ethan switched his legs around, leaning hard to one side. “No one would pay up if it was obvious it was impossible, so they have to make it LOOK like you can win.” His bladder throbbed harshly against his opening yet again, so he leaned in the opposite direction. “And all the bright lights and noises are distracting and cause sensory overload, s—so you’re less likely to make careful decisions.”
Miles looked at Ethan’s flushed, pale face and the sweat running off it in sheets. “So… You gonna take a leak now, or are you just gonna keep psychoanalyzing people for playing carnival games?”
“Miles, come on,” Ethan said, his bladder felt like it was ballooning out inside of him. He snapped his legs together and bent forward ever so slightly. “I—If I was THAT desperate, I wouldn’t b—be ABLE to explain these things.” Pee sloshed to and fro as he continued to shift around. “You know I’m o—okay because I can still talk like this.”
Miles saw so many flaws in Ethan’s reasoning that he was unsure where to begin.
James tossed his last ball at the remainder of the bottle pyramid, one more fell, but the bottom row remained stable.
“Oh, so close!” the man running the game said. “One more ball and you would have had it! Let’s try again…”
“See, James?” Ethan said, shimming his hips. His waistband was slicing hard into his bladder, the poor organ round and tense against the harsh fabric. “Th—This guy’s trying to connect with you and get you into a competitive m—mindset,” he explained. Oh, God… If he could just unbutton his pants, he’d be able to wait WAY longer…
James paid the guy anyway, “It’s fun, though!” he said, picking up another ball.
Ethan stepped closer to the game booth, he uncrossed his legs and bent forward over the counter, crotch pressing up against it. That gave him a tiny smidge of relief, but it wasn’t enough. He thought his waist was pretty well hidden now, no one would notice if he were to… He unfastened the button on his pants, his poor bladder was able to breathe again and a rush of air left his lungs.
James quickly fired all of the balls, and again failed to knock over the entire tower of bottles. “Awww,” he said. He’d done well enough to win a small, plush octopus. He held it out for Ethan to see as they walked away.
“Y—You just spent fifty dollars f—for that,” Ethan pointed out. The release of his button had brought him a momentary reprieve from his desperation, but starting to move again had brought it back full-force.
“And YOU are about to wet your pants because you won’t use a toilet,” Miles said. “You’re ALSO ‘not making careful decisions,’” he echoed Ethan’s words from earlier.
“I’m not going to wet myself,” Ethan said, and a harsh spasm buzzed through his bladder, as if to ask him ‘Are you sure?’ He stopped momentarily, crossing his legs and fisting a hand into the fabric of his pants— Dangerously close to gripping his crotch. “Nnnh… A—And, the portaloos aren’t toilets… Not really, anyway. I’ll go once we leave, I can wait. It’s getting sort of late anyway.”
“It is,” James agreed. “Let’s do one more thing…” He thought for a moment. There was something he’d wanted to do with Ethan for a while. But, he wasn’t sure if Ethan would agree to it. It was pretty cheesy, and it involved being up kind of high… “Ethan, can we go on the ferris wheel? I wanna watch the sunset on it with you!”
Ethan could see the big, towering ferris wheel off in the distance. It looked really tall from here, but he thought he’d be okay. Besides, it was a gentle ride, it would be nice and easy on his full bladder. Plus, it would be over quickly, then he could dash to the car and Miles would find him a bathroom.
All in all, he’d be at a toilet in around half an hour, he figured. He could manage thirty more minutes. Maybe even a tiny bit more. “Okay,” he said.
The group made it to the ride. Ethan was so worn out after dragging his full bladder over to it that he barely had time to register how much taller the wheel looked now that they were close to it before they boarded it.
Once they started to lift off the ground, Ethan kept one hand glued to the safety bar, and the other finally worked its way between his thighs, leaving none left for James to hold. James instead opted to lean against Ethan’s side, eliciting a tiny squeak from him.
“Ahh— James— M—Move your elbow!” Ethan burst out in a panic, squeezing his eyes closed.
James adjusted so he was no longer accidentally jabbing Ethan in the bladder and relaxed into him again.
Miles shook his head, “Ethan, once we’re off this thing, I am going to FORCE you to use a damned bathroom. I’ll drag you there if I have to.”
“Y—You don’t have to,” Ethan said. “W—We’re leaving after this one, remember? Just pull over at the first place you see and I’ll be fine.”
Miles rolled his eyes, “Okay…” he said. “But, you’d better not go in my car.”
“I won’t!” Ethan said. He writhed against the seat, accidentally causing it to rock. As they rode higher, that feeling of motion made terror seize him. The fear went straight to his bladder, which made his squirm more, which made the seat rock more, which made him more scared, which—
“Oh, open your eyes, Ethan— And just look straight ahead! Don’t look down!” James said once they were at the top.
Ethan’s eyes timidly opened. He was staring out at the sunset, and it really was a gorgeous sight. It felt good to be watching it with James resting so calmly against him. If only Ethan could rest calmly, too! His bladder was really thrashing now, and he couldn’t wait to be back on the ground so that he’d finally be one step closer to relieving it!
Drip…
Ah! A tiny spurt had just forced its way out, and Ethan hadn’t even felt it coming! Panicked, he tightened his hold on his cock and— And looked down to see if anything was visible and— And LOOKED DOWN.
No, no, they were so high up! A fall from this height would be deadly for sure! They were too high, Ethan wanted down! His bladder shook, and he leaked again, this time from fear.
James heard Ethan’s heartbeat ramping up from where he rested on his chest. James reached to put his hand over the hand Ethan had on the safety bar. “Aw, it’s okay… Look at the sunset! Don’t look down.”
Ethan calmed down a little, but only for a second, because a harsh metallic creak sounded from the wheel and then it completely stopped moving.
Ethan was trapped at the very top of the wheel, and his bladder was full to overflowing.
Immediately, he was pushed into panic-mode. The background noise of the carnival seemingly became louder as his mind focused more and more on his unbearable need for release. He trembled and shook. He’d told James earlier that he figured these rides probably had technical issues often, and he’d been right. Now he was going to have to suffer through one at the worst possible time.
Nervous, James stood up a little and looked down to the operating booth. The employees were frantically pressing buttons, trying to solve whatever problem they were having. “I— I think we’re stuck…”
Ethan spun to his other side to stare at Miles. Just like on that field trip years ago, there were tears visible in his eyes. Miles wasn’t sure if they were from desperation or fear.
“Miles, PLEASE tell me you have a bottle, or a cup, or— Or— ANYTHING?” Ethan begged.
Ah. Desperation then… Miles shook his head. “Sorry… I should have saved the cups from the lemonades, I guess. I—“
Ethan shuddered. If they didn’t get this thing fixed in two minutes, there was no way he’d make it to a bathroom. There was no way he’d even make it to one of the portaloos he’d been refusing to use all day. He was going to burst. He was going to explode.
He should have gone earlier! He should have used the stupid portaloo when he’d had the chance! He should have just told Miles that he was gonna piss on a tree, Miles wouldn’t have judged him or told him not to! He should have gone earlier! He should have!
James stroked a hand down Ethan’s arm. “I—I’m sorry, this is my fault. I suggested this.”
“I—It’s not,” Ethan said. “It’s mine…” very nervously, he moved his other hand off the safety bar to get a better grip on his dick. Immediately, panic whirled through him as he now felt a lot less stable and secure up here. The hand flew back to the bar, but now he didn’t have enough pressure against his crotch and was starting to leak little drops. “Ahhh— I— I should have just peed before…”
James could tell what Ethan’s dilemma was in regards to his hands. He immediately thought of a solution, but Miles was here… “Miles… Um… I’m gonna do something weird now, okay? I know it’s weird, but I want to help Ethan, that’s all.”
“What are you gonna—“
James reached and cupped his hand over Ethan’s groin, squeezing. “Does this make it easier?”
“Yesss….” Ethan hissed out. “Don’t let go of me…”
Miles watched for a second, then looked away, feeling as though he were intruding on something extremely private. But, for some reason he didn’t think it was THAT weird. ‘I mean, James’s touched him there tons of times before, I’m sure. He’s just doing it for a different reason now. No big deal.’ He supposed it would be weird for HIM to do that for Ethan, but that was just because they weren’t together and he’d never had his hand on Ethan’s private parts before. It was almost sort of normal when it was James.
James added his other hand, so now Ethan had three hands pressing into his crotch to hold his flood at bay. Ethan’s hips bucked into the much needed pressure. James felt some warmth beneath his palms, indicating Ethan had sprung a leak at some point, but he didn’t dare let go. “You can do it, Ethan…”
“James, I’m gonna explode…” Ethan mumbled, miserable. His eyes were clamped shut, one hand gripping the safety bar until his knuckles whitened, the other squished against his dick. Even with the addition of James’s hands, he was barely hanging on.
James was looking down, he wasn’t even scared of heights and the distance to the ground was still a little freaky. He just kept staring, wishing there was some way he could get Ethan down there onto the stable grass below them…
Underneath the ferris wheel, directly below where they were sitting, was nothing but grass and dirt. The operating booth was a little bit to the side, all the different seats were spaced out from each other, no one was underneath them. Nothing but grass and dirt.
“Ethan, just go over the side,” James said. “It’ll all land in the grass, and no one will be able to see what you’re doing from up here.”
Ethan’s eyes peeled open. He shook hard. He could go over the side, of course! He glanced down to work his zipp— And froze in terror, snapping his eyes back up to the sky.
“If you’re scared about hitting somebody, that shouldn’t happen… Unless there’s a really inconvenient gust of wind, maybe,” James said. “It will be fi—“
“James,” Ethan gritted out. “I. Can’t. Look. Down.”
James blinked. “Ohhh… Yeah. You’re gonna have to do that to pee…” He smiled. “But, I don’t mind looking down FOR you!”
“James, what—“
James ran a finger along Ethan’s zipper, and he got the idea. Immediately, he was nodding his head frantically. “Hurry!”
“Okay,” James said. “Miles, I’m gonna do something ELSE weird now, but it’s ONLY because I want to help Ethan feel better!”
Miles HADN’T figured out what James was planning yet. “Er… You gonna tell him which direction to aim his thing in?” he guessed.
“Um… Something like that,” James said. He gently moved Ethan’s hand from his crotch, immediately hearing a sharp hiss as a quick spurt left his bladder. “Just a second.” he promised, lowering Ethan’s zipper for him— He’d noticed Ethan’s button was ALREADY unfastened.
He reached into Ethan’s pants and retrieved his member.
“N—Now?” Ethan begged the very second he felt James’s hand wrap around his length.
“Not yet,” James said, pulling Ethan’s dick out and aiming it down. “N—“
Ethan was pissing before James could get the word out. In a moment of pure bliss, the floodgates slammed open and a hot rush of pale yellow urine pumped its way from his tip. The raging waterfall poured down to where it hopefully made contact with the grass so far beneath them. “Ahhhhhh….” he moaned.
All of this had happened too quickly for Miles to turn back around. ‘Oh… That’s… That’s what he’s gonna do. Okay…’ This was… Weird. Miles couldn’t lie to himself, he’d never seen a guy aim another guy’s piss stream for him before, but he supposed if Ethan was too scared of the height to do it himself…
He realized the weird part wasn’t just that they were doing this, but how nonchalant they were about it. They’d both just pretty much… Accepted that this was going to happen, and no hesitation had existed for them. Miles thought he’d feel at least a TINY bit embarrassed to hold someone’s bits while they peed, or have them hold HIS bits while he peed.
Maybe it was just because they’d been intimate together? James had touched Ethan before for other things, so touching him now for this wasn’t so awkward. Miles didn’t know, he didn’t think he’d want any of his ex girlfriends doing this with him, then again, he also didn’t think he’d ever been as desperate as Ethan had gotten today.
Ethan was lost in a world of relief, clutching the safety bar hard with both hands, fearing that the light, jelly-like quality his body was taking on would make him slip out of his seat. His poor bladder was finally getting to eject everything that had accumulated in it throughout the day, and it felt amazing.
James was having a bit of a problem though. There were certain things that turned him ALL the way on right away, like flipping a switch. Those things included; hearing Ethan moan, watching Ethan pee, hearing Ethan moan WHILE he peed because he’d really needed to go, touching Ethan’s dick, aiming Ethan’s dick while he peed…
Basically, everything that was happening right now was the type of thing to get James hard in seconds. But, this was a really, really bad time to get hard. He tried to think unsexy thoughts, but that wasn’t easy when everything in front of him was so unbelievably hot. Fire was coursing through his body, and he felt his dick twitching, blood rushing to exactly where he DIDN’T want it to go.
Finally, Ethan was done pissing, and James was hard as a rock, feeling like just the slightest hint of stimulation would be enough to make him cum in his pants. It would be bad enough to have an erection here in public with only Ethan around to notice. Ethan would know why he was so stiff and wouldn’t judge him.
Miles was here though, and James didn’t think he’d understand at all.
With his back to Miles to hide his erection, James stuffed Ethan back into his pants and zipped him up. Then he folded his hands over his lap and the MASSIVE problem he needed to conceal, and stared out at the darkened sky. “F—Feel better?” he asked Ethan.
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “Thank you…” He noticed James’s twitchy, anxious demeanor, heard the choked quality in his voice. Without looking down, he knew his boyfriend’s hands were probably covering his lap… He knew what was going through James’s mind now, because it was the same thing going through his own; That Miles would somehow find out this one, unusual fact about them now and would feel awkward hanging out with them for the rest of time.
Ethan could diffuse this, maybe… He’d probably do a better job than James had been doing today.
“Sorry about that, James,” Ethan said. “I’m sure that felt uncomfortable for you. I’m glad you still did it, though. Hope it wasn’t too gross.”
James looked at him oddly for a second. “What do— Ohh, yeah. It was a little bit strange. But, what was I supposed to do? I didn’t want you to have an accident!”
“You got lucky again, Ethan,” Miles said finally. “What would you have done if it was just me and you up here? ‘Cause, no offense, but I’m NOT gonna touch your thing. I don’t care HOW bad you need to piss.”
Ethan reddened. “Th—That’s fine, Miles,” he said. “You were right. I should have listened.”
A few minutes later, the ferris wheel started moving again and they were back on the ground. No one made any comments about random ‘rainfall’ happening while they’d been in the air, so Ethan knew none of his piss had ended up where he didn’t want it to… Save for the clammy, damp patches he could feel in his boxers.
James was still covering his crotch, so Miles asked if he had to go again.
James DID, but also didn’t think he’d be able to piss right now considering how hard his dick was. He’d have to calm it down first… But, there was no way he was gonna jerk off in a portaloo while in public. “No,” he said, knowing he’d be begging for a stop the minute his cock softened up.
“Alright, let’s go then,” Miles said. “You guys have fun?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “I actually liked a few of the rides. My favorite was the roller coaster”
“I had lots of fun,” James agreed.
He’d have to tell Ethan later which ride had been HIS favorite, once they had privacy. |
Written for the Omovember prompt "Wetting A Skintight Outfit"
***
Ethan stood before James wearing a tight, black latex suit that covered him from his neck to his crotch. His arms and legs were completely bare. He also wore a cat-ear headband and a very furious blush. “J—James… I…” He looked down, his hands were positioned in front of his crotch, trying to hide how prominent his bulge looked in this thing. “This costume is a little… Revealing…”
“I know,” James said. “That’s why I picked it out for you!” He was dressed up as well, and his own costume was a little skimpy too. But, the nurse outfit he had on at least had a pair of shorts…
Ethan was basically wearing a leotard that was at least two sizes too small for him. He kept worrying that ‘something’ might start poking out the side of one of the leg holes. He’d agreed that he’d wear a sexy outfit for James this Halloween, but this was a bit more than he’d had in mind.
Or, a bit ‘less’, rather.
“I— I just…” Even Ethan’s shoulders were turning red! Easy to see since the costume didn’t cover them up at all. “I’m not… I don’t typically dress this way.”
“It’s Halloween,” James said. “You’re supposed to dress differently today.”
“True, but…” Ethan worried on his lip. If their plan for the night was to just stay inside together, he wouldn’t mind the outfit. He was okay with James seeing him dressed so provocatively, and he definitely liked how much James was staring at him. But… “I… Um… Is it okay if I wear shorts on top?” he asked. “Just— Just while we’re at Miles’s party.”
“Of course that’s okay,” James said. “Do what makes you feel comfortable. I picked that suit out before I knew we were gonna be invited anywhere tonight.”
Ethan smiled gratefully. He went back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of shorts. This was still significantly more skin than he usually showed out of the house. His typical garb of long pants and long sleeved shirts kept him mostly covered up from head to toe. He was going to feel a little strange just having his arms and lower legs exposed, but it was better than having the bulge of his dick on full, obvious display all night.
He came back out, James was still smiling at him, though Ethan was sure HE’D preferred the outfit WITHOUT the addition of the shorts.
Ethan tugged at the neckline of his costume. This thing was so tight, it didn’t give his body much room to breathe. He hoped it wouldn’t be too warm at Miles’s party, otherwise he’d have a lot of sweat trapped against his skin and would likely wake up with an itchy rash in the morning. “You got the right size, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Yeah,” James said. “But, it’s supposed to fit tight. If you’re too uncomfortable, you can take it off and wear something else.”
“I’m okay,” Ethan said. “I’ll get used to it.” He honestly wasn’t looking forward to taking it off. Getting it on had been a tremendous hassle. The suit zipped up the back, and he had barely been able to reach it himself. And the thing pulled so tautly that even with James’s help, they’d had some difficulty getting the zipper to close up all the way. Pulling it back down was probably going to be just as hard.
“Okay,” James said, hugging him. “You look fantastic,” he informed, running a hand along Ethan’s chest, twirling his finger against one of his nipples, which was visibly protruding against the tight material covering it.
Ethan’s eyes widened at the sensation, as clear and intense as if James were doing this while he was shirtless. He supposed that was one advantage of the suit… “Eheh, thank you…” He said. “Let’s go.”
Ethan wasn’t used to wearing revealing clothes, and he also wasn’t used to going to parties. Large social gatherings weren’t easy for him. They were exceedingly stressful. He never knew what to say when he was around a whole bunch of people, always certain that saying just one wrong thing would leave him ostracized.
James didn’t quite ‘get’ this issue of Ethan’s. James thought Ethan always said the RIGHT things, and he understood people so well! He should have been at home when surrounded by them, but he wasn’t…
James and Ethan arrived early to help Miles set up for the party. Miles glanced at James’s bare chest in his unbuttoned nurse’s coat and barely reacted. But, when he saw Ethan in his skin-tight leotard and tiny shorts, he stared.
Ethan cringed and shuffled his feet. “I— James wanted me to be a sexy cat…” he said.
“And you are!” James smiled brightly. He nibbled his lip. He may be pushing Ethan too far by dressing him up this way…
But, Ethan smiled back at him. “I’m happy that you like it,” he told him.
In Miles’s kitchen, they helped him set out all of the snacks, and Miles was speaking softly with Ethan. James could barely hear what they were saying. “Try not to get too freaked out tonight,” he said. “I know there are gonna be a lot of strangers around you, but if you just say ‘hello’, they’ll like you. I promise.”
Ethan was nodding, nervously gripping his wrist with the opposite hand. “I— I know…” he sighed. “It’s so easy introducing myself to my patients and making a connection there, but anywhere else, I just…”
“I know.”
James listened. Ethan had been all kinds of shy when they’d first met. He’d been MORE than shy, even. Sort of… Closed off. James remembered how Ethan used to always cross his arms in front of himself when he talked to James— And he remembered Ethan mentioning much, much later that folding one’s arms like that was a subconscious defensive gesture, an attempt at putting up a wall. “Sometimes I notice some of my patients doing that during the first few sessions,” he’d said. “I notice that, and spread myself out some so they’ll sense how open and welcoming I am.”
And James had thought ‘But, do you notice when YOU do it…?’
Looking back, Ethan did that defensive arm thing all the time when he met someone new that wasn’t a patient.
Ethan had finished setting out all the bowls, he stood beside James and leaned against him. “My arms are so cold in this thing…” he said.
“I guess they would be, you normally have them totally covered up even when it’s Summer,” James said. He stroked one of Ethan’s arms. “You should leave them exposed more often, I love your biceps.”
Ethan laughed, “James, I don’t have biceps. My arms are noodles.”
“They’re sexy noodles.”
“Haha, what does that even mean?”
James smiled. Ethan seemed more at ease now. James decided to stay by his boyfriend’s side as much as possible tonight. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy standing next to someone that could talk for hours about nothing.
***
The party had begun, friends Miles knew from his college days began to file in, and Ethan was getting anxious again. Some of them probably thought his costume was weird. Or, worse, that he didn’t have the body for it…
James was paying a lot of attention to him, he saw Ethan starting to hold his arms as more people arrived, so he tapped on his bare shoulder.
Ethan jumped. “Hm?”
“You’re crossing your arms,” James said.
“…So?”
“You told me that means that you’re feeling all defensive and stuff,” James reminded.
Ethan slowly unfolded them. “S—So I did…” he said. He really needed to stop teaching James things like that… He felt suddenly so much more vulnerable with his arms by his sides! He had the overwhelming urge to cross them again. He needed something to busy his hands with so that he couldn’t do that anymore.
He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of punch. There. He couldn’t fold his arms if he was holding onto a cup! He took a long sip, the sweet juice tasted delicious. He took another sip. And another.
And before he knew it, his cup was empty and he needed to refill it.
Half an hour, and three more cups later, Ethan was stood beside James as they talked to a woman Miles was friends with. Well, James was talking, Ethan was mostly just standing there. Every time he thought he had something to contribute to the conversation, a part of him would insist that whatever he’d been about to say was probably stupid. So, he stayed quiet.
James nudged his side. “Ethan…” he urged. “We’re talking about your favorite movies! Don’t you wanna say something?”
Ethan lowered his fruit punch cup from his mouth. “Er—- Yes,” he said. “S—Sorry, m—my mouth was full. The punch is really good. Have you had some” he asked the woman.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s good… So, you like sci-fi too?”
Ethan nodded. This was a topic he could talk about! He let himself speak on and on about all his favorite films, and his favorite scenes from those films, and how he’d gotten to see the director’s cut of his all-time favorite movie recently, how exciting that had been, and… Slowly, he started to worry that the woman thought he was a weird dork, and he went quiet again.
But, the woman picked up right where he left off. At first, he was delighted, then he wondered if she was just humoring him.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Ethan,’ he told himself. ‘You’re a therapist! You should be able to recognize when your own thoughts are irrational. These fears are unfounded, merely a product of your—‘
“Ethan was super silly at the theater when we saw the director’s cut, too,” James giggled.
“Oh?” the woman asked.
“He drank a big, big cup of soda and didn’t want to get up and miss anything,” James explained.
The woman didn’t react for a second, then she cupped a hand over her mouth and laughed. “Ohhhh, yeah. I guess that would cause a problem…”
Ethan thought he should probably be annoyed at James for bringing THAT part up, but the rest was just happy James had made her laugh. She was more likely to enjoy their company if she thought they were funny.
Ethan’s cup was empty again, so he went to refill it.
Another half hour later, Ethan was feeling the effects of all that punch. He whispered to James that he was going to pee and headed for the restroom. Once he was at the toilet, he pulled down his shorts, and—
Hmmm…
Right, the leotard didn’t have a zipper at the crotch, it just had the one that went up his back. He remembered his earlier fear that his… stuff might accidentally come out one of the sides, so he tried to pull his dick out through one of the leg holes. The material was too tight for that, and he very quickly gave up when a sharp pinch assailed his length.
He was going to have to unzip the whole thing.
He reached around his back, feeling for the pull tab. When his fingers grazed it, he gripped it tightly and yanked down.
And, immediately, an icy shot of fear went through him.
He’d expected to have a little bit of trouble getting it down, but just now he hadn’t managed to budge it at all.
Suddenly, the costume felt a lot tighter than it had a minute ago, especially around his abdomen. Additionally, his bladder instantly felt a great deal fuller… It was an uncomfortable boulder sitting firmly between his hip bones, aching for release that he couldn’t give it.
Being in front of a toilet just made it worse.
There was no reason to panic just yet, though. He was getting ahead of himself. He’d needed James’s assistance zipping the thing UP, so of course he’d need help getting it back DOWN. He just had to go get James.
Ethan pulled his shorts up and exited the restroom, finding himself back in the hallway. Now, where had James gone off to? He’d half-expected him to be right there at the bathroom door, anticipating the sound of Ethan relieving his bladder. He’d half-expected to see him standing there with a confused and disappointed look on his face since he hadn’t gotten to hear any hissing or satisfied sighs yet.
But, instead the hall was vacant.
Ethan hurried back into the living room, his bladder getting painfully knocked around as he searched for James in the crowd of people. He was realizing now that he’d waited too long to attempt his toilet break, or maybe that punch was just all of the sudden deciding to move through him a lot faster. He felt immensely more eager to go than he had just moments before. He’d begun to wriggle his hips uncontrollably, an action that made him grateful for the shorts he had on. Every few steps, he’d pause and clench his thighs together, hissing through his teeth.
At last, he found James in the kitchen with Miles. Ethan’s bladder was so annoyed by all the pushing and shoving he’d had to do to get through the crowd that he felt tingles of need flaring down his length and pulsing sharply at his urethra. He rocked on his heels as he called to James.
James scampered over to him and gave him a kiss. “There you are!” he said. “All better now?”
Ethan blushed, wary of Miles being right there… But, that was probably a normal thing to say to someone after they’d used the toilet, right? “Er… No…” Ethan’s bare knees rubbed together. “I sorta need some help with the costume…”
“Hm?” Miles asked, coming closer. “What’s the matter?”
Ethan reddened further, starting to jiggle. “I… Er… I can’t get my costume off, and I have to use the bathroom.”
“Ah,” Miles said. “Is it bad, because I was just about to—“
“Look how squirmy he is!” James interrupted. “Poor thing’s bursting!”
“James…” Ethan mumbled in a warning tone.
And now Miles was scrutinizing him. Ethan clenched his eyes closed with embarrassment as Miles’s gaze traveled all over his tense body, his crossed legs, his bouncing feet… “Yeah, you’d better hurry, Ethan,” he said finally. “I’ll wait ’til you’re done.”
Ethan sighed, grateful that he was at least gonna get to pee first. He and James had to go back through the living room now, though. It was even worse the second time around, because now Ethan’s bladder knew that relief lay on the other side of the sea of people. Miles had invited way too many friends. Ethan’s abdomen was getting elbowed every few feet, sending sharp, shooting spasms all through his bladder. All at once, he was seized with the terror that he might get jabbed one too many times in JUST the wrong spot, and have an accident right in front of all these people!
“Excuse us,” James kept saying as he helped Ethan walk. “Sorry, sorry…”
Once they’d made it to the restroom door, Ethan’s breath was all coming in short, choppy gasps. He lurched a hand out and gripped the knob.
But, of course, now it just HAD to be locked…
Ethan stepped back and leaned hard against the wall. He continued to hop in place as he waited.
“Oh, it really IS bad, huh?” James asked.
“Y—Yeah,” Ethan agreed. Bad didn’t even cover it… The pressure was so strong it was making his knees knock. And the tight material of his costume was pulverizing the life out of his bladder.“Get the suit off as fast as you can, alright?”
“I will,” James promised.
They continued to wait.
After a couple more minutes, Ethan was holding his cock. Or, at least, he was TRYING to. The thick leather encasing his dick made it very difficult to get a decent grip.
Finally, the door opened. Ethan rushed in as soon as the previous occupant was out of the way, James followed him at a much calmer pace.
Ethan bobbed up and down, still grappling for purchase over his crotch. “Hurry…”
James did, he reached for the zipper at Ethan’s neckline and tugged it…
And it didn’t move at all.
He tugged again, a little harder.
Nothing.
He gripped it tightly and pulled as hard as he could.
Ethan was still trapped.
“J—James?” Ethan asked, panic clear in his voice.
“It’s— I can’t get it down,” James cried. “It’s not moving. I think it’s caught, or jammed, or—“
“James, please don’t tease me right n—“
“I’m not teasing you,” James promised, gently rubbing Ethan’s back as he doubled over. “It’s really stuck!”
The hands on Ethan’s crotch loosened for just a second as he spun around. It was just as he’d feared. That zipper wasn’t going to come apart.
“H—Here’s what I’ll do,” James said, chest clenching at the horror on Ethan’s face. “I’m gonna go to the kitchen, and I’m gonna get the big steak-knife, okay? Then, I’ll cut around the crotch of the costume, and—“
“James, don’t you DARE stick a knife anywhere near there!”
“… Yeah, that’s probably a bad idea,” James agreed. “I should cut it apart from the top, right?”
Ethan started to step in place, his hands kneading themselves against his dick. “W—We had to take you to the minor emergency room once because you managed to impale yourself with a butter-knife. Any idea involving you using a knife is—-“ A wave of urine seemed to press itself right up against his exit, he folded even further in half, his hips shaking in tiny, helpless motions against his clutching hands. “Ahhh— Just— Just, no knives, James.”
“Okay,” James said. He opened the medicine cabinet. “Maybe Miles has, like, vaseline or something we can use for lube.” He giggled. “Eheh, hope no one was walking by the door right when I said that!”
Ethan forced a smile. He really wasn’t in much of a laughing mood right now. He was only in the mood to do one thing; pee. And until he did that, he couldn’t process anything else.
James grinned. “Yay!” He turned around and showed Ethan the tub of vaseline he’d retrieved. “We’ll have you out of there real fast now!”
Ethan nodded, “Please…” he grunted. “Hurry.” It was pure torture being in this room, the toilet RIGHT THERE, as he tried to withhold the contents of his brimming bladder.
James came around to his back again, and he gently started to dab vaseline onto the teeth of the zipper. He was unsure how much he could really TOUCH Ethan right now without making him leak.
The answer to that came a moment later when a hiss filled the room and was immediately followed by an anguished noise from Ethan’s throat. There was then a splash as his loss of control made it to the floor.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” James said after the noise had ceased. “Just a few more minutes, you’re gonna make it…”
James tried the zipper, and both of them breathed sighs of relief when it started to move… Only for it to get stuck again barely an inch down.
“Nnnnh, come oooon!” Ethan moaned.
James went back to rubbing on more vaseline. He tugged the zipper again, and it still didn’t move. He tugged harder and harder, accidentally pulling the material of Ethan’s costume even more firmly into his bladder.
“J—James!” Ethan yelped, as another spurt exited him. “James! You’re— You’re squeezing me!”
James stopped. “S—Sorry…” He let go, tried the vaseline again.
It didn’t work, and as soon as James yanked on the zipper, Ethan was whimpering and dribbling. His poor bladder was coming apart, it couldn’t handle so much squishing. “Er…” James kept thinking. “Soap,” he decided. “Soap works too!”
Of course, Miles had soap in the bathroom, and it didn’t take much effort to find it. The issue now was that James would have to get the bar wet for it to be useful— He was going to have to turn on the tap. “Ethan, I need to run it under the sink for a second…” he warned.
Ethan was already squeezing his dick harder in preparation.
But, that wasn’t enough.
The water began to hiss into the basin, splashing against the material in a way that sounded way too much like the noise pee made when it struck a urinal. Ethan doubled over again, but this would prove to be his undoing as he only succeeded in crushing his bladder.
“Ahhh—!” Ethan gasped, the walls of his bladder collapsing inwards like a poorly constructed building, all at once the pressure became an acute, bright point of pain at his opening, and then suddenly vanished entirely as his piss started to gush with a force he’d never even felt before in his life. “Hhhaaaa—-“ he moaned, momentarily so overcome by how much BETTER he felt that he didn’t realize he was having an accident. He couldn’t process the warmth seeping around his crotch, the ear-splitting hiss of the leather becoming drenched, the sheer lack of control he had over any of it. All he could process was that his bladder no longer felt like it was going to explode.
Then, he understood that the reason for that was that it had ALREADY exploded. His eyes shot open and, desperate not to wet Miles’s floor too badly, he collapsed onto the toilet seat with another loud moan. He did not allow his bladder to continue draining, he didn’t make the conscious decision to give up and just let it happen. It was no longer up to him, nothing he could have tried would have plugged his floodgates shut, he had utterly and completely exhausted the capacity of his holding muscles. His body was calling all of the shots now.
James’s eyes were blown wide, and he was sure he hadn’t even blinked since the second Ethan had finally popped. He was also sure this was the fastest he’d ever managed to go from flaccid to completely hard. The way the crotch of Ethan’s costume glistened and gleamed as it became more and more soaked, the look of utter relief and exhaustion on his face, the way he kept twitching as he sat there on the bowl, body jolting as more and more piss slammed out of him… And the SOUND, just… So much hissing. The sloshing as the urine landed into the bowl, the high pitched hssssss as it jetted into the leather material, and on top of all that, Ethan’s MOANS…
James’s own costume felt tight now… His dick was just so hard… God, he had to touch himself, he NEEDED to touch himself, but he made himself hold back, his pulse running wild as Ethan continued emptying.
Ethan’s eyes cracked open just slightly. His face was pink, clammy with sweat, his hair all out of place. “James… You… If…” he gasped out. He was feeling a little faint, out of breath… And he knew was probably driving James CRAZY right now. “If you… If you like this… Go ahead an’… An’ touch yourself…”
James didn’t argue with that. He was surprised Ethan would ASK for this at Miles’s house, with a party taking place just outside the door. Maybe Ethan had just realized James needed THIS as bad as Ethan had needed a piss… James unzipped himself and pulled out his erect cock. It was a relief not to have it confined and cramped inside his pants anymore. Right away, he was pumping himself for all he was worth. “Mmmmfff…” he moaned, biting his lip to keep from making as much noise as he WANTED to. Ethan was making enough of those sounds for both of them, if James joined in, everyone outside would have a… Maybe not SO different idea of what they were up to in here.
Ethan leaned back hard against the toilet tank. “Ahhh… I dun’…” he felt so bleary, he barely remembered where he was. “I don’t even care that I’m wetting myself, it just… Feels so good…”
James didn’t know if Ethan was delirious from the relief and just muttering to himself, or if he was deliberate trying to get James even hornier than he already was. Either way, James ALREADY felt close to cumming, unsure if he’d be able to hold it back even one more minute. “Ahnnn—“ he mewled as softly as he could. “Ethan— I’m gonna—“
Ethan parted his legs, and now James could SEE the stream still gushing from between them. “Do it h—here…” Ethan said. “It will make less of a mess…”
James positioned himself between Ethan’s legs, and with as forcefully as Ethan was spraying, his pee started to land on James’s dick, the heat and vibration of it, the mere fact that it was Ethan’s piss that was striking him, made James cum so hard his eyes rolled back in his head and his entire body convulsed. “Faaaaahhhh!” James exclaimed, unable to keep himself quiet anymore. Semen spurted from his tip and into the bowl, his cock twitching and jolting as he finished.
Ethan himself finished a few seconds later. James stumbled backwards against the wall, appearing far more disheveled than he had mere minutes before. Ethan kept sitting there on the toilet, struggling to catch his breath and readjust to how it felt not to be so full of urine, and to reflect on… Everything that had just happened.
What in the world had come over him? They weren’t at home! This was the exact wrong place to have done… ANY of that!
He’d just been… God, the relief of letting it flow… It had driven him to temporary insanity, that was it. He drew his legs back together, feeling the squishy dampness of his accident.
Right. He was drenched now. And he still couldn’t get out of his stupid costume… At least the outfit was black, and once he put the shorts back on, no one would notice the way his crotch shimmered. He definitely SMELLED of urine right now, though.
Once he felt like he could trust his legs enough to stand up, and was confident he probably wasn’t going to drip too much more, he rose from the toilet and leaned against James, sagging into his body with exhaustion. There was a lot he wanted to say, but all that came out was another relieved sigh. “Ahhhhh…”
James rubbed his arm. “That was… So much…” he said, kissing him. “It’s… It’s okay that you didn’t make it…”
Ethan looked away, “Yeah, I could tell that you didn’t mind…” he exhaled again. “I feel so much better, James…”
“I hope so!” James said.
Ethan wriggled, his crotch was starting to chafe a bit now. He grabbed the shorts from the floor and tugged them back on. “Er… What next? I’m… Not so sure I want to go out and talk to people right now.”
“It’s okay, it’s late,” James yawned. “And I’m real tired all of the sudden… Maybe ‘cause you just made me cum so hard that I saw stars. I dunno.”
Ethan blushed harder. “M—Might have something to do with it…”
They left the restroom together, and Miles was standing there. James stared at him for a second, at the little bit of foot tapping he was doing. This was the first time he’d ever seen Miles show any sign that his bladder was getting uncomfortable… Miles spoke before James could say anything potentially embarrassing. “Ethan, you sly boy…” he teased. “Seriously? In MY house? I didn’t think you had that in you…”
Ethan shrank back. “Wh—What—“
“Nah, I’m not mad,” Miles said. “Good for you! I’m glad you’re having a good time.”
Ethan wasn’t sure which was more embarrassing, having Miles think he and James had just finished up having sex in there, or TELLING Miles that he’d actually wet himself and the moaning had been due to how utterly relieved that made him feel. Probably the second thing— Besides, if he confessed, that wouldn’t explain why James had ALSO been moaning so much.
“You should have just said that’s what you were gonna do,” Miles said. “I wouldn’t have let you use the bathroom first if I knew you weren’t actually having an emergency.”
“I’m… Sorry… We… Madeyouwait,” Ethan fumbled over his words.
Miles shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said, shuffling past them into the restroom.
James yawned again. “Let’s go home now…” he said.
“Yeah…” Ethan couldn’t stop blushing. “I think that’s for the best.” |
Written for the Omovember Prompt “Free Choice”, so here’s Ethan needing to hold it in all day.
This chapter includes a scene involving pee drinking, however this does not occur until the very end and there is plenty of regular desperation and wetting content before then.
Alex and Adam are both from my fic “Firsts”, and Kenneth and Dwight appear in “Guard”.
***
The door to the restroom in Ethan’s practice was stuck. Completely. The lock had gotten engaged from the inside somehow, and until the locksmith came and fixed it, that door wasn’t going to budge. Ethan had tried his best to open it himself, he’d even tried forcing it down by ramming into it with his shoulder— Which only succeeded in giving him a very sore arm.
The door wasn’t going to open, though.
After four coffees and an hour since he’d relieved himself at home, naturally when Ethan had discovered the door was stuck, his biggest concern was for James.
He turned around immediately and explained the situation to him.
“Oh,” James frowned. “And you had all those coff—“
“Today, I want you to go next door to the sandwich shop and use their restroom, alright?” Ethan instructed. “You don’t have to ask. If I’m busy, you don’t have to wait to tell me where you’re going— If I come out here and don’t see you, I’ll know that’s where you went.”
“Um, okay, but what if the phone rings while I’m out? And, are YOU gonna be—“
“If that happens,” Ethan said. “And I’m with a patient, it won’t be the end of the world if the machine picks up and we need to call back. I want to be sure that you’re comfortable.”
“That’s very sweet, but you have a lot of—“
Ethan kissed him on the cheek, silencing him. “It’s okay, James. I can handle things while you take a few minutes to pee. Don’t worry.” And with that, he was going into his office.
James sighed when he saw the door shut. “That’s not what I’m worried about…” he mumbled. Ethan was booked solid today with back to back appointments— Days like this, he hardly had the time to use the restroom that was IN here. No way would he be able to walk all the way next door, relieve himself, and come back without messing up his schedule.
And after all that coffee this morning, there was no doubt that Ethan was going to NEED a toilet break before the day was over. It would be impossible for anybody to hold that much for so long— Even Ethan.
Ethan apparently hadn’t realized ANY of that, however, because when he came back out of his office he grabbed his water bottle. James understood that Ethan’s throat probably got dried out talking to people all day long, but he thought it would be best to IGNORE the water bottle today. “Um… Ethan?” James ventured. “The door…”
“Right, when you have a moment you should call the locksmith to come handle it,” Ethan told him. “But, like I said, it’s FINE if you go next door to pee. Make SURE you do that, alright? I don’t want you to hurt yourself because you think I’ll be upset about you walking out.”
James appreciated all the reassurance, even if he HADN’T been worried about Ethan getting angry with him in the first place. “I promise, I’ll go when I need to go, it’s just—“
“Perfect,” Ethan praised. “Need my favorite assistant to be comfy.”
“I’m your ONLY assistant…”
“That’s because you’re so good that I don’t need anyone else.”
James thought that since his job was supposed to be about HELPING Ethan and REMINDING him of things, he should try to steer the conversation back on course. “That’s so sweet, but I’m worried about—“
The door opened and a woman walked in. Ethan smiled warmly at her, “Hello,” he said. “You’re right on time. Ready to start?”
The woman nodded shyly and followed him back into his office.
James sighed to himself once more. Well. Ethan was GOING to figure out the problem eventually, whether he wanted to or not…
James sat at his desk and opened Ethan’s schedule on his computer again, confirming that he really was booked solid today— He’d even decided to forego lunch to squeeze someone in at the last moment. James planned to find some time to feed Ethan at least a few crackers or something today, though. He couldn’t just go without food until dinner!
James had fallen in love with Ethan because of how deeply he cared for others, how much he yearned to heal and help people. He had such a big heart that it made James’s own heart swell. But, all those wonderful things about Ethan came with a big negative; Ethan had a lot of trouble realizing that sometimes HE was the one that needed help. He put other people first so much that he neglected to take care of himself.
That was James’s job, to be the one that took care of Ethan— to be the one that convinced him it wouldn’t take too long to eat just a few crackers between his patients if it kept him from getting dizzy.
James wasn’t sure HOW he was going to take care of Ethan today, though. Even if Ethan RAN from this building to the next one, there wasn’t enough time at all between appointments for a bathroom break today. And there was no doubt in James’s mind that Ethan was going to be needing one of those very, very badly before long.
James sat there, waiting for the phone to ring, occasionally checking over the schedule for the upcoming few days. The phone stayed silent, which gave James a lot of time to think. He was Ethan’s assistant, and that meant he was supposed to help him with any problem he encountered, that meant he was supposed to be organized and prepared.
So, James tried to come up with a plan for what to do when Ethan’s bladder inevitably started to burst. A part of James was a little excited for that moment to arrive, but the rest was just worried. Ethan wasn’t going to enjoy getting desperate at work with no way to relieve himself. He’d just start stressing out, having a hard time actually DOING his job while he felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.
Maybe James could… Go next door to the sandwich shop, where he knew they sold plastic water bottles. He’d buy one, drink its contents, and save the empty receptacle for later when Ethan needed it. Yes. That was a good idea. Ethan could come behind the desk and refill the bottle between patients, there would be plenty of time to do that since it wouldn’t require walking back and forth.
But, he could already hear what Ethan would say. “James, no. I can’t relieve myself behind the desk. What if my next appointment comes in before I’m done and sees that?”
James could tell him to hide in his office while he used it instead, he supposed. He wouldn’t get to WATCH Ethan go if he did that, but it would still accomplish the main goal— Getting Ethan an empty bladder.
Again, he imagined what Ethan would say. “That’s a better idea, but then I either have to find someplace to HIDE a bottle full of urine inside my office, or carry it out and risk someone walking in and seeing it.”
James tried to think of something better, some way to just get rid of all the pee without it leaving a trace. For the tiniest second, his mind flashed back to two moments; the amazing feeling of Ethan accidentally letting go all over his lap, and a particular video he’d watched a long time ago— A desperate man relieving himself into his partner’s mouth.
At the time, the idea hadn’t turned James on that much. The desperation in the video had been very hot, and he’d liked the look on the man’s face as he’d let go, but the ‘drinking’ part had been outside of James’s interest. And it still didn’t REALLY turn him on, he just thought it would solve the problem. He’d take care of Ethan, whatever it took.
He kept thinking, picturing how Ethan would react to that suggestion. “Awww, poor Ethan!” he’d begin cheerfully, watching as his partner jiggled around and held himself. “You don’t have time to go next door, do you? Well, I tried to think of somewhere else you can pee, and if we go into your office, then you can do it in my mouth so that there won’t be any evidence left behind!”
After this, there would be a heavy, heavy silence before Ethan would just turn around and pretend James HADN’T said that.
That was definitely his worst idea yet…
James could barely believe he’d even just thought of it! He liked to help Ethan and make him feel comfortable, but… He wouldn’t do it like THAT, would he?! He WAS strangely okay with the idea of Ethan pissing in his mouth, and that confused him.
If it was just that the idea aroused him, if it was that it got him horny to think about it, James would UNDERSTAND himself a little better right now. It would be simple; Just, James had a piss kink, so it would get him off if Ethan peed in his mouth.
But, the struggle was how the idea DIDN’T arouse him at all; Pee-drinking wasn’t one of his interests, it wasn’t part of the fetish for him. Desperation was, wetting was, relief was, being peed ON was, as he’d recently learned. But… Drinking? It wasn’t. It didn’t do anything for him.
As much as it had weighed on his mind, his dick was still soft and the electric tingles he felt when something turned him on weren’t happening. All he felt was a desire to HELP Ethan today if he couldn’t hold his bladder. The thought of drinking Ethan’s piss wasn’t making him horny, it was just making him think ‘Well, if that’s what has to happen, I’ll do it for him.’ Just this… Sort of acceptance that he’d do whatever it took to get Ethan comfortable.
And he was pretty sure that ‘Well, fine. I guess I’ll drink his piss later if he needs me to.’ wasn’t a normal thought to be having.
Before he could agonize over the bizarre new direction of his thoughts any further, the door to Ethan’s office opened. His patient stepped out and James took her payment. “Thank you!” he said to her brightly, trying to banish the odd idea from his mind.
James turned to look at Ethan as he left the office, too. He watched Ethan move down the hallway towards the restroom. He watched Ethan grasp the doorknob and try to turn it. Then, he watched Ethan stumble back and tap his forehead a little. “Heh… That was silly…” Ethan mumbled.
“You okay, Ethan?” James called.
“Yeah,” Ethan said, walking closer to the desk. “You know, the funny thing? I was THINKING about how the door was stuck as I tried to open it— You’re going to use the toilet next door, right?”
“Yes, don’t worry about me,” James said. ‘At least, don’t worry about me because of THAT,’ he added to himself. He still didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he would even consider for half a second—
‘Ethan’s a therapist, he can probably tell you what’s wrong with your imagination today,’ James thought. But, that would mean telling Ethan what he’d been thinking about.
Plus, Ethan had told him plenty of times “I can give you all the advice you want in our day to day life, of course. And I’m always happy to hear what you’re feeling, or hold you if you’re sad. But, I can’t be your therapist, it wouldn’t be a good idea. I can’t treat someone that I have a relationship with, my own emotions would get in the way. If you would like a therapist, I can recommend someone else to you.”
Would asking Ethan about this really count as therapy, though?
It didn’t matter, James didn’t want to tell him at all!
“A—Are you okay?” James asked finally.
“Fine,” Ethan said, swaying slightly. “I… Wish I’d had less coffee, though.” He looked at the clock. “Maybe there’s time for me to—“
Before he could finish, his next patient walked in. His expression brightened right away, and he stopped his nervous foot-hopping, appearing as though he’d never even started. “Ah, hello! Right on time,” he said. “Come with me.” And again, he was returning to his office.
James looked back at his computer. Maybe he should look ‘I’d let my boyfriend pee in my mouth if he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Is that normal?’ up on the Internet.
Probably not…
Why was he worrying about this, anyway? Even if Ethan did end up getting unfathomably desperate today, and even if James did offer himself as a solution, no way would Ethan AGREE to it. It wasn’t going to happen. And, if it did, James was likely to be a lot LESS okay with it in real life than he was in his imagination. He knew he was being silly anyway; He was bothered because… He WASN’T bothered by something? That didn’t even make sense!
He had to think about something else.
But, over an hour of thinking about piss had gotten to his bladder, and he realized his hips were shimmying a little in his seat. He needed to go… Ethan had said it was fine for him to pee next door, and he wasn’t going to argue— No way could HE hold it all day with his tiny bladder. Ethan had also told him he didn’t need to SAY he was leaving, but he grabbed a post-it and wrote a note for Ethan anyway. Just in case.
Then, he took his break.
He returned shortly after, returned to his computer, returned to waiting for a phone call. He tried NOT to return to his earlier thoughts, but they crept in from time to time anyway.
Ethan saw his patient to the door a little while later, and James noticed a very hesitant bounce in his step. He knew the other was starting to fill up, starting to become uncomfortable. Ethan anxiously opened the front door and stepped out, and James winced when he saw Ethan bump into his next patient.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Did something come up? Do we need to reschedule?”
Ethan took a step back and smiled. “No, you don’t need to do anything. It’s alright. Today is fine.” He shifted slightly, hitching his hips so imperceptibly that only James could notice it. Today was NOT fine for Ethan…
“If you’re having an emergency you need to take care of,” the woman said. “That’s okay.“
James saw Ethan reddening at her word-choice. Ethan may not have been having an ‘emergency’ yet, but he was approaching one, that was for sure. “No, I wasn’t leaving for anything important, I was just gonna go next door for a second to get something, but it can wait. No big deal.” He laughed slightly. “I’m here for you!”
“Alright,” the woman nodded, and Ethan led her back to the office.
Between appointments, James saw Ethan growing more and more antsy. He’d rub his hands nervously against his thighs as he greeted patients, anxiously adjust his glasses or step lightly in place. By noon, when Ethan would ordinarily take a lunch break if he was able to, James could tell he needed to go bad.
Ethan stood beside James’s desk, twisting from side to side. “Oh, of course the door had to get stuck on a day when I have to skip lunch…” he mumbled. “You’ve been going, right? Haven’t been holding it?”
James looked down at his fingernails, drumming them against the desk. Should he really tell Ethan that he’d peed three times today so far? Wouldn’t that make him feel worse?
“James…” Ethan prompted.
“I’ve… I’ve been going,” James promised.
Ethan nodded, continuing to shuffle his feet. “Maybe if I run as fast as I c—“
The door opened again, and Ethan made himself go still. He managed it for the most part, his spine knotting with tension and making him shake a little. His bladder was feeling heavy and tight above his dick, and he was blushing as he tried not to focus on that. “Hello,” he greeted the two people whom had walked in.
Ethan really wasn’t SUPPOSED to have favorite patients, but sometimes that happened anyway. Alex was one of those times. He was such a sweet young man, and seeing him interact with his boyfriend Adam always warmed Ethan’s heart.
“Right on time,” Ethan told them.
Alex shyly stood behind Adam, whom clasped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. This was how the two usually looked for the first few minutes when they visited Ethan. But, Alex always opened up more once they were in his office.
“Thank you for finding time,” Adam told him. “I’m sorry if we’re making you miss lunch.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Ethan said, struggling to ignore the sweat rolling down his back. His need for a pee was getting more insistent. “I’ll have a snack when I get a chance.” He wasn’t the least bit hungry right now though. His bladder was too full for him to notice if his stomach felt empty. “Alex, I’m happy to see you today.”
Alex came out a little further from his boyfriend’s shadow and smiled a little. He nodded, “Th—Thank you…”
“Are you ready to start?”
“Yes… Yes, sir,” Alex said.
“Alex,” Ethan said gently. “We’ve talked about that, you may call me Ethan.”
“S—Sorry, sir— I mean— Sorry, Ethan.”
“Don’t apologize,” Ethan said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He led Alex to his office and sat down in his chair, subtly shifting his thighs against it to try and ease away some of his need. “Sit down, Alex.”
Alex sat on the couch across from him, nervously twiddling his fingers.
“It’s okay,” Ethan soothed. “The only reason I don’t want you to call me ‘sir’ is because you’ve told me that it’s what—“
“It’s what Papa made me call him sometimes,” Alex filled in. “And… You don’t want me to see you the way I saw Papa?”
“Exactly,” Ethan said.
Alex was an interesting person. He’d been raised inside of a cult, one which was based in following Biblical principles and viewing large families as a blessing from God; Two things which sounded fine at first, but were darker in practice.
The father of any household was to be viewed as superior, and to always be obeyed; The cult claimed that God spoke through the father. Children were to be homeschooled with a very specific curriculum that focused exclusively on the Bible. Girls were to be trained to become dutiful wives and mothers and to birth as many children as she could for the man selected by her father. Girls were permitted to only wear dresses or skirts that reached the ankles and could never cut their hair. Boys could seek employment as they got older, but only within the church or at businesses the church approved of. Boys weren’t allowed to have long hair, wear jeans, or look at women that were dressed ‘immodestly’. Higher education was forbidden. Music and dancing were banned. Children were seldom allowed to leave the home unless it was to attend church. The father was encouraged to use corporal punishment if his wife or children ever disobeyed him or the rules set out by the church.
Alex hadn’t known anything about that was odd until Adam’s family moved in next door to his. Alex had started to question many of the things he’d been taught about outsiders, and about himself. He’d told Ethan his big breakthrough moment was when he realized that a whole bunch of the things his father said WEREN’T actually things that Jesus had said. “Jesus never said that all music is evil,” Alex had told Ethan. “Only Papa said that.”
It had been very, very hard for Alex to leave, however. Complicating it further, Adam had helped Alex learn something important about himself; Adam was trans, and after he came out to Alex and explained everything, Alex had had another big breakthrough moment where he understood what the ‘icky, bad feelings’ he’d been experiencing all his life actually meant, and that he could do something that made them go away.
The world outside was frightening to Alex, transitioning AND starting a brand new life in a new place at the same time was a lot to deal with. Plus, Alex had so much to work through regarding his past. Adam helped him where he could. Adam was always beside him and helping him feel safe in new spaces. Adam helped him explore his identity and taught him that there wasn’t one, single ‘right’ way to be trans. Adam held him when he was feeling hurt and upset…
But, there were things Adam COULDN’T do. Adam had never been through the kinds of things Alex had gone through, many of them were unimaginable to him. Adam could hug him after a nightmare and repeat to him “It’s okay, I’m here now, it’s over…” But that wasn’t enough. Alex needed more, and Adam eventually had recognized that he couldn’t be Alex’s ONLY support, because there were some things Adam didn’t know HOW to help with.
So, that was where Ethan had come in. He’d helped Alex out a lot, making him feel less insecure about how little he knew of the world. (“It was your father’s job to prepare you for these things. He failed you, and that isn’t your fault. You can still catch up, it’s never too late. It isn’t a race.”) He’d helped Alex get his prescription for testosterone, and wrote the letter which cleared him for his top surgery. He’d talked to Alex about his past, so he could better understand which parts of it hadn’t been ‘normal’. He’d talked to Alex about his beliefs, helped him determine how many of them truly came from him, and how many of them had just been PUT there.
Alex had a lot of fears, a lot of insecurities, and that was understandable. So when Adam had called the previous evening and apologetically explained that Alex was going through a very hard time and needed an extra session as soon as possible, Ethan hadn’t thought twice about squeezing him in.
Speaking of ‘squeezing’ however, his bladder was doing an awful lot of that right now. Not that it mattered. Ethan was going to wait. Ethan was going to hold it. Ethan was going to ignore the awful tugging going on around the base of his cock and he was going to be THERE for Alex right now. He was going to be there for his next patient too, and the one after that, and so on. He was going to hold it until the day was finished, and then he was going to head next door and relieve himself at last. He was going to do all of that, and his bladder was just going to have to accept it.
Ethan tensed all his muscles and looked Alex in the eyes. “How are you doing today?” he asked.
Alex quietly looked down, beginning to fidget with his fingers again.
Ethan fidgeted, too. He shifted in his chair, squirming his thighs and trying to find a more comfortable position. But, there didn’t seem to be one that existed anymore. His belt was cutting into the small, round swell resting painfully between his hip bones— WHY had he worn a belt today? He usually got away without one… He wanted to take it apart, make it stop crushing him.
Would Alex notice that? Therapists weren’t supposed to appear anxious and uncomfortable, they were supposed to look calm, so that their patients could feel calm. “Alex…?” Ethan asked again. “Is there something you’d like to talk to me about? It can be anything you want.”
Alex glanced back down at his lap. “I… I… Adam wanted me to come in today, because of how I… Did something.”
“Oh,” Ethan said, shifting backwards and trying to escape from the painful pressure of his belt. This didn’t work, of course; The belt moved right along with him.
He had a feeling he knew where Alex was going; Guilt was a very powerful emotion to Alex, feeling as though he’d done something wrong— no matter how minor— could make him spiral into a panic. Many times, Ethan had explained to him that feeling guilt after a mistake was natural and normal, but that the healthiest way to assuage guilt was to apologize, not to beat oneself up over it. Most often, Ethan had to talk Alex down from believing he was going to burn in Hell for little things, like accidentally forgetting to pay for a stick of gum.
Ethan waited for Alex to continue, but he didn’t. “Alex, it’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’ll never judge you.”
“I… I…” Alex’s lip trembled. “I… I wet the bed…” His face was scorched pink. “Mine and Adam’s… And, I didn’t mean to!”
“Of course you didn’t mean to,” Ethan said soothingly. This wasn’t something he particularly wanted to discuss while his bladder continued to knot up inside him, but if Alex NEEDED to talk about it, he’d simply cross his legs and bear it. His hips shook a bit with tension as he continued; “Bed-wetting is completely involuntary. You can’t fully control what your body does when it’s asleep.”
“But…” Alex was obviously fighting hard not to cry. “I’m too old to be doing that…”
Ethan squeezed his legs together, ankles rubbing against one another, relishing the small bit of relief this gave him. There was heat building in his cheeks, whether from the pressure he was fighting back or from the way he’d decided to respond to Alex, he didn’t know. “Hey, want to know a secret?”
“Um… Okay,” Alex said shyly.
“Alright,” Ethan said. His bladder sent a spasm up through his body, urine pushing tightly against the base of his cock as he recalled an incident that had occurred a few months back. “A little bit ago, I wet the bed, too.”
“You did?” Alex’s eyes widened.
“I did,” Ethan nodded. “A few times, actually. And I’m even older than you. Age doesn’t matter with these things, they just happen. Something scary happened to me that made me have bad dreams, and that would make me have accidents. Stress and fear are actually big triggers for bed wetting. Have you been feeling anxious lately?”
Alex looked away. He was breathing easier now, and clearly still surprised by Ethan’s admission. “Well, when I… When I wet myself, I’d been having a bad dream, too.”
“Understandable,” Ethan said, a shivery pulse rippling through his full bladder and causing him to squirm his body from side to side for a moment. “Do you remember what the dream was about?”
“Well, at first, it was normal… Just, I had to go pee very badly, and I couldn’t find a toilet where I was,” Alex explained.
At that statement, Ethan subtly inched a hand against his left thigh and gave it a tiny pinch. He felt very silly a moment later when he didn’t wake up. He’d doubted that this was a dream— everything seemed much too normal for that to be the case. His body just wished that he could escape from his building desperation that easily. The little knotted bump below his belly-button felt firm and painful.
Alex continued, “And, Adam was with me to help me look, which made me feel better. But, there were also all these fountains and rivers, and other stuff that kept making me have to go even worse.”
Ethan’s fingers curled around the arm-rests of his chair, white-knuckled as he bent forward and bit back against a soft groan. His bladder was screaming at him to move, to bounce his knees, to stomp his feet, but Alex would definitely notice if he did all that. He’d look like he didn’t care about Alex’s problems and was eager for him to stop talking. That wouldn’t do at all! So, he forced his feet to stay glued to the floor, ignoring all the angry pulses from within demanding he allow them to squirm.
Alex continued describing his dream, all the watery imagery he’d endured, a few moments where he’d found a restroom only for something about it to be wrong and off and unusable, how his dream self had gotten grotesquely swollen the longer he tried to find relief. “And— And, then… I turned around and Adam wasn’t with me anymore.”
“So, now you felt lost,” Ethan said, without noticing it he’d stood halfway out of his seat, his ass barely touching it anymore as his body vibrated from the constant spasms.
“Yeah,” Alex said. “I don’t like it when he’s not there…”
“We have talked before about this; Your separation anxiety,” Ethan said. “It is very normal that you feel frightened being apart from the person that helped you escape your old home. You see him as a bit of a guide now, don’t you? Your protector?”
“Yes,” Alex agreed. “I need someone to tell me how to do stuff, I mess up if I’m alone…”
“So, being in an unfamiliar place without him… Of course it scares you. But, it’s also good for you to learn HOW to go places on your own so that you’ll see you really DON’T mess things up as often as you think. I know you’ve gone out by yourself a couple times now, and I want you to continue doing that, it will get less frightening the more times you do it. I promise.”
“O—Okay,” Alex said. “I’ll try… But… Um… In the dream, when I saw he wasn’t there anymore, I got very scared. And I tried to find him, but instead… I— I found Papa.”
“Oh… Well, that’s normal too. We often have dreams recreating our bad memories.”
“It wasn’t completely a memory,” Alex said. “The first part sort of was, he was yelling stuff he’d yelled at me before. About how Adam ‘ruined’ me and turned me into an ‘abomination’…”
“That isn’t true,” Ethan promised. “Adam helped you, and you’re a wonderful person.”
“And… When he got done yelling, he opened a door and shoved me in, and I fell for a long time. When I stopped, I was in Hell… And it was so… I could hear Papa yelling about how I ‘belonged’ there and would have to stay forever, and… I was so scared that I finally woke up, but the sheets were all wet, and I felt so… I felt so terrible. I cried a lot.”
Ethan legs shook from top to bottom as he thought that over. His own relationship with God was complicated. He’d been raised in a church, but no longer followed any organized religion while retaining a belief that something must have existed out there to look after the universe. Hell had often been used as a threat for him growing up as well, but not to the extent it had obviously been used against Alex. “Alex, no God would ever send you to Hell.”
“Because He’ll forgive me?”
“Because there’s nothing TO forgive you for,” Ethan told him. “You’ve done nothing wrong."
Alex started to shake again. “B—But, Papa said… Papa said that— That me being this way means I have to go to Hell, and it doesn’t matter what else I do…”
Ethan dug his nails harshly into the material of his chair, hitching his hips as he fought to hang onto all the urine that was threatening to erupt from him. He took a very slow breath, his bladder shuddering hard as his skin stretched over it. The conversation he was about to have with Alex was so very important, Ethan had to hope that his bladder would ALLOW him to have it. “Alex, have you ever heard the term ‘spiritual abuse’ before?”
Alex shook his head. “No, what’s that?”
“It’s a certain form of psychological abuse,” Ethan explained. “You know what psychological abuse is, right?”
“I think so…” Alex said. “It’s like when somebody yells at you and calls you mean things, right?”
“That’s part of it,” Ethan nodded. “It’s anything done to intentionally make another person feel things such as fear, sadness or isolation. Often, the abuser will have a position of power over the victim.”
“Papa made me feel scared and sad all the time,” Alex said. “And… He definitely kept us all isolated.”
“With spiritual abuse, the abuser will use religion as a way to control their victim,” Ethan continued. “They will use religious texts to instill fear, or to justify harming and forcing another person to remain obedient to them, sometimes making suggestions that they are ‘divine’ in some way.”
“Papa said that God spoke through him…” Alex mumbled.
“Your father used religion to control you,” Ethan said. “He used the fear of Hell to control you. How often did he tell you that you were going to Hell growing up?”
“Oh…” Alex put a hand to his lips. “I don’t know… It was all the time. When I was five, I accidentally tripped and broke a plate I’d been carrying. Papa got mad and said I’d go to Hell because I was supposed to respect my parents and all of their possessions. I cried a ton, I was so scared. I didn’t sleep hardly at all for a few days because I couldn’t calm down, I kept thinking I was going to just die and go to Hell right away.”
“That wasn’t right,” Ethan told him. “I admit I have not read the Bible through completely, but I doubt there are any passages saying you go to Hell for breaking a plate— Especially if it wasn’t on purpose. Your father wanted you to be perfect and never make mistakes or do anything he didn’t agree with, so he threatened you with the ultimate punishment to get you to obey and fear him. That was very wrong of him, and it wasn’t your fault.”
“I wish that I didn’t still have nightmares about him,” Alex said.
“That’s not your fault either,” Ethan promised. “When we go through a trauma, it will often come back to us in our—“
“And I wish… I wish I hadn’t peed the sheets.”
With that, Ethan’s body tensed up again. His chest, his shoulders, his legs, his abdomen, every inch of him was trying to squeeze the piss out into his boxers. He’d been able to ignore his bladder for a bit when he’d been explaining the concept of spiritual abuse to Alex— Helping Alex understand the specifics of what had been done to him was a good distraction— But, now Alex just HAD to remind him that peeing was a thing people did sometimes; A thing Ethan had to do right NOW. “It is perfectly alright that you had an accident,” he said once more. “Everyone has them…”
Ethan’s bladder throbbed with the reverberations of every word he said. For a very crazed second, he considered letting it go right where he was sitting, as if to PROVE to Alex that everyone had accidents sometimes. He shook his head frantically, trying to get rid of the awful idea. Pissing himself in front of a patient was utterly unacceptable.
“I cried a lot when I woke up…” Alex explained. “I think that’s why Adam got so worried about it. He kept rubbing my back and holding me, all the stuff he normally does when I’m sad, and I just couldn’t stop…”
Waves of urgency pumped through Ethan’s bladder, and a cramping spasm caused him to fold over a bit— Only for a moment. He was back upright so quickly he doubted Alex had even really noticed. “Bed-wetting is a very big deal for you,” he stated.
“Y—Yes,” Alex nodded. “At home… With Papa…”
“Were you punished for wetting the sheets when you lived with him?”
Alex nodded. “Yes. He’d hit me for it. And then he’d make me put my sheets out to dry outside, and I’d have to watch and think about what I did. I wouldn’t be allowed to drink during the day after, and I’d have to stay outside where it was usually really hot. Then, once night came, I’d have to stay awake, to keep me from doing it again.”
Ethan shut his eyes. Then squeezed them closed tighter as a wave of need flushed through his body. “Th—That was… That was not the appropriate way to handle it,” he said gently. “You understand that, right?”
Alex nodded. “Yeah… Adam… He told me when his little brother started peeing the bed, their parents just had him use rubber sheets until it stopped. They didn’t get mad. And Adam didn’t get mad at me either, even though… Even though some of it got on him…”
“Adam is very sweet,” Ethan said. “I didn’t think he’d be angry.”
“He wasn’t at all,” Alex nodded. “That’s why I’m confused. I don’t know why I broke down like that. Especially after Adam started hugging me and telling me that it was okay and everything. I shouldn’t have been so upset.”
“I think I know what happened,” Ethan said. “I’ve told you before how our past tends to stick with us, haven’t I?”
“Yes.”
“So, when you had an accident like that again, that brought back all of those memories and feelings— It brought back all of the shame that your father forced you to feel. When you wet the bed at your father’s, did you cry then?”
“Yes, but then he’d hit me and yell at me to stop.”
“You were made to hold in your natural responses to your emotions,” Ethan explained. “But, when you wet the bed the other night, you did it somewhere safe where you weren’t going to be punished. You were finally able to react to those feelings the way you’ve always needed to, and since you’ve restrained yourself for so long, it must have felt more intense, right?”
“S—So I couldn’t stop crying BECAUSE Adam was being nice and not getting angry?”
“I think so,” Ethan said. “Your brain was trying to clear out something that had been stuck inside of it for too long. It wasn’t helping you anymore to hang onto it.” His bladder rolled within him, heat flaring down his length and ending with an intense, stinging fire at his urethral opening. His bladder was also trying to clear out something that had been stuck inside of it for too long, and it was taking everything he had to hang onto it and not let his desperation become obvious. He pressed his thighs together tight, pinning his aching penis between them.
Alex nodded. “I guess that makes sense… I don’t have to be scared to cry anymore, so I do it more when I have to.”
“Ex—Exactly…”
Alex looked up further now, his eyes stilled on Ethan for a second. One thing Ethan didn’t realize about Alex was that he was quite observant when it came to certain things. Alex had taken care of his younger siblings all his life, he’d assisted with potty-training them. It had taught him to watch out for signs one of them needed to go, and that meant he usually had a very easy time telling when someone had to pee.
Something about the look on Ethan’s face…
“Are you okay?” Alex asked.
“H—Huh?” Ethan squeaked, surprised. He’d thought he’d been doing really well keeping his need hidden… His feet were still stuck to the ground, he wasn’t bouncing… Apart from the intense stiffness in his body and the way his hands clung to the chair’s armrests, he couldn’t think of any reason anybody but James would be able to tell! “I’m okay, and YOU don’t need to worry about ME.”
“Oh…” Alex looked away, blushing. “I guess I was being kinda silly… If I spend a lot of time with the little kids, I start… Paying attention to weird stuff.”
“That’s okay,” Ethan said. “But, I’m fine.” He did not ask what kind of ‘weird stuff’ it was that Alex had been referring to. He was worried that he already knew the answer. “We’re nearly out of time, so I hope I helped you feel a little better about what happened.”
“You did,” Alex promised. “It’s— It’s okay that I had an accident.”
“Right,” Ethan confirmed. “And it’s okay that it made you upset.”
Alex stood up from the couch. “Thank you, Ethan,” he said. “I feel a lot better.”
Ethan started to stand up as well, and— HOLY SHIT! No, bad idea, bad idea! He was nearly going right now! Right where he was sitting! His bladder couldn’t take it anymore! So much coffee, so much fucking liquid and nowhere to release any of it!
Ethan’s legs crossed double as he squirmed like mad. One hand landed on the armrest trying to yank himself up onto his feet. He managed to pull himself into a partial squat above his seat before his bladder convulsed and made him fall back down— Which naturally just sent an intense earthquake of a spasm through him that made him whimper loud enough for Alex to look back at him.
“Um…” Alex murmured. “Are you sure you’re—“
“Ah, my— My feet fell asleep!” Ethan said. “I sat still for too long, whoops!” Trying to steady himself, he launched to his feet and prayed for his control to stay intact. His bladder reacted to the change in position by bolting down hard against his trembling, pained sphincter. His feet jabbed harshly against the floor beneath him. “G—Gotta… Wake ‘em back up again!” he commented, trying to brush aside what was now a much more obvious pee dance. “I need a minute.”
“Okay…” Alex said awkwardly. He left the office.
And now Ethan had privacy… His eyes darted around the room, and stilled upon the handkerchief resting on the end-table beside the couch, placed there in case a patient began to cry and needed to blow their nose.
Ethan shot for the handkerchief and guiltily wrapped his hands around it. He shouldn’t be doing this— He— He— A pulse of pee erupted from his tip, and he unzipped his pants, freeing his dribbling dick. He wrapped the handkerchief around it, allowed his urine to pump into the material, quickly saturating it to the point his hand was getting wet. He shifted the handkerchief around, every bit of it becoming drenched rapidly. He had to make himself stop, he’d only barely let himself pee for a few seconds, and now all he could feel were the painful throbs of a bladder that had been taunted with just the tiniest taste of relief.
There were other cloths in here. Once one was used, he replaced it with another until he could get them home to be washed. THIS particular one had been used a lot more thoroughly than he’d ever wanted it to be. He’d probably just throw it out, he couldn’t have any of his patients touch a thing that he’d peed into, even if it HAD been washed. He stumbled to the other side of the room, pulled open a drawer. Maybe he could just let himself piss into a few more of the cloths, just enough to take the terrible edge off of his despera—
He caught sight of his watch. He didn’t have much more time before his next appointment was supposed to start.
No.
He couldn’t do this. It was a terrible idea anyway, he couldn’t just go ruining all the handkerchiefs just because he had to pee really bad. He forced himself to the door. His entire ordeal alone within his office had barely lasted half a minute, but it felt like it had been longer… He stepped outside, and saw Alex turning to walk down the hall towards the restroom. “O—Oh,” he called out. “Alex…”
Alex stopped. “You gotta go first?” he asked.
Ethan’s face scorched bright red, a blush spreading all the way down to his neck. The shameful spurts he’d released into the handkerchief had lent him a momentary respite, but the memory added to the terrible embarrassment he felt now. “Ah, no,” he said. “The door is just stuck today, I’m afraid.”
Alex looked at him, wearing an expression of dawning comprehension. “Ohhhhhh,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Ethan assured. “The locksmith will come fix it tomorrow.”
Ethan watched Alex run to Adam’s side and hug him. He watched Adam give him a soft kiss on the cheek, and it felt… It felt good to see. Ethan had so often been too frightened to show much affection to James in public, it made him happy to know Alex recognized this as a very safe place. It made him feel good enough that he managed to forget his bladder for a second.
Just for a second, though.
“Can you drive extra fast on the way home, please?” Alex asked his boyfriend.
“Um, as fast as I can,” Adam said. “What’s the matter?”
“I…” Alex blushed, lowered his voice. “The bathroom door is stuck here,” he explained.
“You can go next door,” James informed brightly.
Ethan flinched. Oh, how much he’d love to ‘go’ next door right now… He looked at the clock. There were only a couple minutes left. He couldn’t make it back in time. There was no way.
Adam took Alex’s hand again and they left out the door. Ethan tried not to feel jealous of the fact Alex was about to pee…
Oh… Ethan needed to go! He was full, his bladder was cramping. His reprieve from his Hellish desperation was over, the piss he’d let go of in his office felt like nothing now. Mere drops compared to the oil-drum of urine flaring inside his bladder. He HAD to go, he just HAD to. “James,” he said. “I—“ He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He knew he needed help now, and James’s entire job WAS to help him, to take care of the things Ethan couldn’t take care of for himself. Ethan wished he could somehow pop out his bladder and HAND it to James. James had all the time in the world to run next door and empty it out for Ethan. Then, he could come back with it all nice and drained and Ethan could put it back where it belonged.
Human beings were pathetic. Why hadn’t they evolved the ability to do that yet?
“Ethan?” James asked. “You oka—“
Ethan didn’t let him finish. He rushed down the hall to the restroom, determined to force the door open any way he could. He grabbed the doorknob and started to yank on it, tugging as hard as he could, trying to break it apart so that the lock would shatter. His legs twisted and coiled, struggling for purchase against the floor. “Nnnnh, come on…” he mumbled. “I’ve held it long enough, let me go…”
The door didn’t budge. It remained a solid, silent barrier that didn’t care about his problem at all.
Another tug, a furious, harsh one that made his knuckles whiten. ‘Please…’ he thought. ‘It’s gonna start coming out again soon…’
He didn’t even notice his next patient had arrived until he suddenly heard a voice behind him. “Um… Doctor, what are you doing?”
Ethan jumped back, a spurt loosening into his boxers and warming his crotch. He tried not to show any reaction to his momentary loss of control. “H—Hello, Kenneth.” he said. He looked to Kenneth’s side. “Hello, Dwight. Good afternoon. Nice day we’re having.”
“Is something wrong with your door?” Kenneth asked.
“It’s just a little stuck,” Ethan said. He was stepping in place. He couldn’t help it anymore. His bladder was DEMANDING that he MOVE. “The locksmith comes tomorrow though, so it’s not a big deal.”
Kenneth looked down at Ethan’s feet. “Is that the door to… Um…”
“Is that where your toilet is?” Dwight interrupted.
Ethan nodded with a blush. “It is,” he admitted.
Dwight looked from Ethan’s crossing legs to the potted plant in the corner beside the restroom door. “Why don’t you go pee on the plant?” he asked.
Ethan stared at him, blushing from head to toe. Was he being serious? Was he trying to tease him for some reason?
“It’s YOUR plant,” Dwight said. “We’re the only ones in here, except for your assistant. Kenneth and I can turn around if you want.”
Oh… Oh, goodness… He WAS being serious! Ethan couldn’t do THAT! He was at WORK, he was supposed to act professional when he was at work! Urinating— especially somewhere that wasn’t even a toilet— in front of his patient wasn’t professional at ALL. “I—“
“You don’t want your assistant to see you pee?” Dwight gathered.
Oh, God… Ethan wasn’t sure if he could get any redder. He felt the corners of his lips tugging, and a painful pressure bubbling in his chest. ’Don’t laugh,’ he ordered himself. ‘Don’t you DARE laugh right now. You laugh, you explode…’
Ethan heard a choked sound, and then a snort. His eyes flicked over to the desk, seeing that James had been unable to hold in his giggling at Dwight’s last comment. And that made Ethan realize that he actually COULD manage to blush harder.
Dwight looked over his shoulder at James. “Huh? What’s so funny?” He turned back to Ethan. “I mean, he can step outside for a second, right? We all can if it makes you feel better. You don’t HAVE to hold it.”
“Dwight…” Kenneth sighed out, he was turning almost as red as Ethan.
“And, I… I’m— I’m fine,” Ethan said. “Don’t worry about me. I can hold it.”
“Are you worried about making a mess on the carpet?” Dwight guessed next. “I had that problem before, but if you aim right at the center of the pot, that will help it all stay where it should.”
“It took you too long to figure that out…” Kenneth mumbled softly.
“N—No,” Ethan stared down at his feet, wondering how the patient of his with the most severe case of Paruresis he’d ever encountered in his career could have a friend that was so ridiculously open about the topic of urination. Maybe if the pair fused together somehow, then they’d balance each other out and just have an average attitude about peeing— Neither open enough to cause other people to feel awkward, nor shy enough to be unable to go in public settings. “I’m not going to relieve myself on the plant.”
“Okay, suit yourself,” Dwight shrugged. He kept glancing at the plant, though. “Is it okay if I—“
Ethan pointed to the front door with a sigh, “Outside, turn left,” he instructed. “Use the toilet at the sandwich store.”
Dwight nodded. He started to leave, then stopped himself. “Um… Why don’t YOU do that?”
“My schedule,” Ethan answered. “I need to begin your friend’s appointment now.” Truthfully, he should have started it a couple minutes ago. Dwight had spent so long trying to convince Ethan to water his plant that now he was late.
Dwight looked at him for a moment, then shrugged and walked out the door.
“I—If you are… If you need it badly, I can wait a few more minutes,” Kenneth said.
“No, it’s okay,” Ethan promised. “I’m here for you. Don’t worry about me.”
“…Are you sure? You look a little—“
“I’m fine,” Ethan insisted. “I’ve held it before, it’s no big deal. Let’s—“ He froze. ‘Where did I leave that handkerchief in there?!’ Had he just dropped it? Was it just laying out in the open? “Um— O-One moment please…”
“Okay…”
Ethan tore back into his office. He had indeed simply dropped the handkerchief onto the ground. It was laying right there, very wet and staining yellow, where anyone could see. He plucked the clammy, cold thing up and crinkled his nose at the smell— It was so obvious what he’d done to it. Completely, utterly obvious… He yanked open one of the drawers in his desk and tossed it inside, hoping the scent wouldn’t leak through the wood.
‘Leak…’ Oh, he shouldn’t have thought that word! His bladder gave a lurch and he barely prevented another one of his own leaks from seeping into his boxers. Could he ‘use’ another handkerchief? Just one more? Just one more would make him feel so much better! He needed to let more out! Needed to get rid of some pressure somehow!
He reached down and took apart his belt, his bladder billowing forwards and enjoying all the new space it was now free to occupy. It was a massive relief, but only lasted a second. Then, the thundering throbs had returned, and he just— He just had to go so bad!
Without really thinking, he tore open the top drawer of his desk, grabbed a handkerchief and shoved it down the front of his pants. He managed to wedge it between his dick and his boxers as another spurt escaped the confines of his bladder. Panting, he tried to steady himself. There… Just… Just a little something to help catch any leaks that happened to slip out during the next hour. An extra layer of protection to make it less obvious that he was slowly losing control over his body.
He opened the door and ushered Kenneth inside. When Ethan took his seat, his waistband compressed his bladder hard. The bloated organ trembled, liquid surging downwards in a frantic rush. He fought hard, battling against his body, against the gallons upon gallons of liquid within him. But, none of his squirming helped. None of it even managed to slow down the horrid desperation that continued to just build and build and build, and another trickle of liquid escaped.
He didn’t panic, for now it was only seeping into the cloth he’d tucked against himself. His bladder was leaking, but none of it was staining into his clothes right now. Still, his entire body was trembling hard, every nerve ending inside of him was focused on just containing his ocean. He shook all over, hips bucking back and forth in his seat, scissoring his legs like crazy.
Kenneth sat down on the couch, staring at Ethan. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
The spasm faded, and Ethan was able to go a bit stiller finally. “Yes, I’m okay,” he assured, splaying his legs out in front of himself, fanning his knees in and out. “I do need to relieve myself, but that’s not a big deal. I promise. I’ll go after work. I’m here to help you, so don’t worry about me.” He’d been saying that an awful lot today… He wished he could calm his body down enough that he wouldn’t HAVE to tell his patients not to fret over him. “Besides, talking to you will distract me, I’ll just forget all about needing the bathroom.”
He hoped so, anyway. Kenneth had a few things he was working through— Trauma, anger management, internalized homophobia… But, one of the big things Kenneth dealt with was his extreme Paruresis. His shy bladder. His inability to relieve himself in public settings. It was something he and Ethan talked about a lot, and it was something that wouldn’t distract Ethan from his own need at all.
“Is there something you want to focus on today?” Ethan asked. Internally, he begged ‘Please not the pissing thing. Please not the pissing thing. Please not the pissing thing.’
“Well…” Kenneth looked to his side. “Um… There was something that happened that made me really angry recently…”
‘Oh, thank God…’ Ethan thought. They were going to be discussing Kenneth’s fits today, his rage, his ‘anger-demon’, as he often called it. Kenneth felt all of his emotions with a great deal of intensity, but especially anger. When something set him off, he often lost control of himself and did things he would come to regret. That was something Ethan could talk about right now. That was something his bladder could handle.
“But…” Kenneth went on. “I’m not sure if I should say it…”
“You can tell me anything,” Ethan assured. Often, Kenneth would be embarrassed after a rage incident, acknowledging that he’d overreacted to something very small. “I don’t judge, and none of it will ever leave this room.”
“It’s just… I… I really don’t know if I should talk about this…”
Sometimes, Kenneth’s fits were violent if the thing that provoked him had made him feel cornered. Sometimes, he’d get lash out because his mind was telling him he was in danger and that the only way to protect himself was to fight and scream. Sometimes, things got broken. “If you did something that is making you feel guilty, you can say that. If you harmed something, it’s very healthy that you’re feeling sorry about it now.”
“N—No, I didn’t… I didn’t break anything this time,” Kenneth said. “I just yelled a whole lot…But… Um…”
“It’s okay. I promise, it’s not as bad as you think it is. I’m proud of you for not damaging anything.”
“Th—Thank you, but… I… I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to tell you everything that happened today. I don’t think you want to hear it right now.”
“I always want to hear what’s on your mind,” Ethan said.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. You can say anything in here, it’s a safe place.”
“Well… Alright,” Kenneth said. “So, um… Dwight likes bike riding. And there was that big race a couple weeks ago. He said it would be fun if we did it together. I’m not good at riding a bike, but I…” Kenneth blushed. “Dwight was so excited, and that made me feel…I wanted to do it for him. Except, to compete in the race, you have to pass a drug test.”
“Okay,” Ethan said. Had someone accused Kenneth of being on drugs? It would make sense he’d be upset by that. Kenneth had been raised by a barely functional alcoholic and he never wanted to let himself go down a similar path Someone even just jokingly suggesting that he was an addict may have offended him.
“Um… They are observed drug tests,” Kenneth added. “The kind where you… Have to urinate into a cup while someone watches.”
Oh.
Ohhhhhh.
Fuck. Ethan didn’t want to talk about this! This wasn’t fair! Yesterday, when he’d had access to a toilet, NONE of his patients had said even ONE word about pissing. Now, when Ethan was stuck holding it all day, everyone kept talking about it! His bladder convulsed. The urine within him was trying once more to move down the pipe of his penis, he felt the warmth as it tried to bead through his urethra, but he crossed his legs and held it back.
“If you can’t discuss this today,” Kenneth said quickly. “That’s fine. I’m sure you don’t want to be thinking about… That.”
Ethan definitely didn’t want to be thinking about it! But, his job was to listen to Kenneth, to discuss whatever was troubling him. If the thing troubling him was related to urinating, then Ethan would just have to deal with it as best he could. “It is okay, Kenneth,” Ethan said. “We can talk about whatever you need to talk about. Were you warned ahead of time that this test would be occurring?”
“I wasn’t,” Kenneth said. “But then, I thought it wouldn’t matter WHO observed. So I asked if Dwight could please do it for me, since I have no problem going in front of him. And I said that it HAD to be him doing it, which I think made them suspicious.”
Ethan thought that over. He could understand why someone unfamiliar with Kenneth’s situation would jump to the wrong conclusion; Assume Dwight was going to provide the sample FOR him, or something. “Did you tell them why at first?”
Kenneth shook his head. “I was too embarrassed… When I was in the room with this other guy— I’d never even met him before, he was just a stranger— I tried to go like I was supposed to. But… He was there, and it was just impossible for me.”
Ethan nodded, picturing it. Kenneth had been thrust into a very high-stress situation— Being told to urinate on demand while a complete stranger stared at him— and hadn’t even been given proper warning. “What was your anxiety level? One to ten?
“Nine,” Kenneth said right away. “I felt like I was about to hyperventilate, and then the guy told me to hurry it up and it got worse. I had this bad twisting feeling in my chest and got all sweaty.”
“Did he notice you were beginning to panic?”
“He did,” Kenneth said. “And, I think THAT made me look suspicious too, because he asked if I was hiding something.”
Ethan bit his lip. That was entirely inappropriate, accusing a person of something without any real evidence.
“So, I started getting mad,” Kenneth went on. “Because I hadn’t done anything wrong. I mean, if they just watched me ride a bike for five minutes THAT should be enough proof for them that I haven’t taken any performance enhancing drugs. I told this guy that he was just making me feel nervous, and that I can’t go if I’m nervous. I told him I had Paruresis, since that’s what you said it’s called, and that I couldn’t help it.”
“That was a good thing to do,” Ethan praised, forcing a smile. His piss-hole kept spasming, that one tiny ring of muscle suddenly feeling like it had billions of nerve-endings and every one of them was filled with agony. “I know how hard it is for you to talk to people about this.”
“I didn’t feel like I had a choice,” Kenneth explained. “And it didn’t even help. He just said ‘After enough time your bladder will have to void, under any circumstance. I have heard this shy bladder syndrome excuse many times; however it does not stand up to scrutiny. We will wait until you submit a sample, no matter how long it takes.’”
“Is this when you yelled?”
“No,” Kenneth shook his head. “I just got more shaky and anxious. Because I was pretty sure I knew what was going to happen now. And I was right. He made me drink glass after glass of water, and kept me in the room with him and the cup. I—“ he paused, looking at Ethan. “Um…”
“Go on,” Ethan prompted. His bladder thrashed at his next words. “Tell me everything you were feeling, it’s okay.”
“I… I had to go so bad,” Kenneth mumbled. “I was dying for it. I wanted to give up and just quit, but Dwight had been so excited for this and I didn’t want to wreck it just because I can’t piss.”
“I don’t think Dwight would have blamed you…” Ethan said calmly.
“I— Sometimes, when I’m super desperate, I get this feeling in my back. It’s right under my ribs. And it HURTS. It’s enough to make me cry sometimes, it feels like getting kicked by a mule or something.”
Ethan flinched. He knew the feeling Kenneth was referring to— It was one that told him it was time to use the safeword if he was playing a game with James, and one that usually came just before an accident at any other time. His heart twisted as he realized Kenneth must have felt this pain pretty often in his daily life.
“I was bursting,” Kenneth said. “I was holding myself, crossing my legs— Doing this— This weird thing I do when I have to go, where I chew on my hands a little. It hurt and I couldn’t take it. And I kept trying to go in the cup, because the guy kept saying I couldn’t leave the room until after I’d done it. But, I couldn’t. I was trying so hard, I was mashing my hand into my bladder, but all that did was hurt me more. I was pretending I was somewhere else, and that didn’t help either. I kept begging the guy to just leave the room because I couldn’t go and I felt like I was going to explode.”
Ethan’s tense hand rested atop his bouncing knee. In his first session with him, Kenneth had had a difficult time describing his desperation. He’d been embarrassed to talk about it, he’d kept it vague. Kenneth had gotten more and more comfortable having Ethan as a therapist though, and that made it easier for him to talk about things. Ethan was happy Kenneth felt safe here, but he found himself yearning for the days where Kenneth could barely even explain what needing a piss felt like. His description today was so vivid, so intense, Ethan knew exactly how Kenneth had been feeling, because he felt it in his own bladder right now.
“So, it just kept… Going on like that. For hours. And he kept making me drink more even though I was telling him there wasn’t any more room inside of me for it. Eventually I noticed… Um, well. Sometimes if I’m holding a lot, I get all swollen around where my bladder is.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked down to his lap for a second. There was a little bulge in his own abdomen. Swollen, hard. Straining and full of so much urine…
“So, I actually— I pulled up my shirt, and I said ‘Look, don’t you see how bad it’s hurting me? Don’t you think that if I COULD piss I would have done it by now?’ And he didn’t even care. He told me again that I had to stay until I filled the cup, and he didn’t care how long it took me. He said he’d stay in there with me a whole week if that’s what it took, and then he laughed because the idea of holding it a week is ridiculous. Except, I got scared because with how my body is, if he stayed with me a whole week I probably WOULD hold it that long.”
“You would need to go to the hospital before that…” Ethan said gently.
“I— I know, but that’s scary too,” Kenneth said. “I don’t want— I don’t want something going in there…”
Ethan understood. Catheterization was one of Kenneth’s fears. But, if the incident he was describing today had ended with THAT, he would have said so by now. It must have ended a different way. “Were you able to use the cup eventually?”
“Yes,” Kenneth said. “After a few hours, the guy said HE had to piss. He made a stupid joke about how watching me dance for so long had upset his bladder, and he said to stay in the room until he got back. He left, and I was finally alone. And— And the SECOND the door was shut behind him and my body realized he was gone, I was… I was… Having— An— An accident… I couldn’t stop going, and I thought that if I got some in the cup he’d finally leave me alone for good and this would all be over. So, I got my— My clothes apart, and I started filling the cup.”
Ethan tried his best not to picture that. He tried not to imagine how relieved Kenneth must have felt when his bladder finally gave out and he at last released everything he’d been forced to hold. He tried not to imagine the sound of it hissing into his clothing before he began to flood the cup instead. Ethan imagined these things anyway, and his bladder responded to the ideas dashing through his brain by sloshing hard against his sphincter. One drop— One single, solitary drop— collected at the tip of his cock, seeping against the cloth he had stuffed inside his pants.
“But,” Kenneth said. “I— Um… I have… Er… I think my bladder is… Bigger than a lot of people’s, since I have to… Hold so much all the time. And the cup was tiny… So, I overflowed it really fast and STILL couldn’t stop, so it got all over the floor, and… And my clothes were wet too, and I was so ashamed that I was trying not to cry.”
“It’s okay to cry, Kenneth,” Ethan said.
“I know,” Kenneth said. “I just… The guy came back. He saw I was wet, he saw the floor was wet, and he was mad. He called me ‘ridiculous’ for ‘wanting to piss myself to get out of a drug test.’ And I was mad. I almost yelled, but I held it back and gritted my teeth. I pointed at the cup. I wanted to say ‘Look! I filled your stupid cup up for you!’ But I knew if I opened my mouth I was going to explode at him. He saw the cup, he said something about how it was okay he didn’t observe because, since I was… Wet, he knew I’d gone. But, then he looked at it more, and…”
Ethan squirmed painfully in his seat when Kenneth trailed off. He tangled his legs together. His lower abdomen was hard and smooth, bulging sharply beneath his navel. “What?”
“He… My pee was super, super clear, from all the water he’d made me drink. And he said it was too ‘diluted’ for the test to work. And that meant I’d have to try again. I’d have to do ALL of it over again. And… That’s when I blew up. I shouted and screamed at him, I called him an asshole, I told him I wished I could make HIM hold it until it hurt, I just yelled and yelled until my throat was sore and I could hardly breathe, and then I got thrown out for being belligerent. And I was so embarrassed that I’d— Basically just thrown a tantrum like a toddler. And I felt terrible because now I couldn’t be in the race with Dwight like he’d wanted. And I was so exhausted, I just wanted to go home.”
“Dwight was okay though, wasn’t he?” Ethan asked. Even if Kenneth hadn’t gotten to that part of the story yet, Ethan was certain he was right.
“They’d… They’d told Dwight to leave right after he gave his sample,” Kenneth explained. “He’d wanted to stay there for me, since he knew I was having a hard time, but they told him to go so the place wouldn’t get too crowded. I stayed outside for a few minutes trying to breathe, then I realized I was out in public with wet clothes and felt more humiliated than ever, so I called Dwight and asked him to pick me up. He asked if I ever… Managed it, and I explained everything. He was sort of mad, but not at me. He came and got me, and we went home, and… He let me sleep in his bed with him that night, that made me feel a little better.”
“Dwight cares for you so much,” Ethan said.
“But, I wrecked everything!” Kenneth said. “He should have been furious with me! I ruined it, just because I can’t piss, and just because I go crazy when I’m mad!”
“It is completely understandable that you got angry after everything that happened to you that day,” Ethan said. “However… When YOU feel angry, what exactly is it like? What does your body feel like? What goes through your mind?”
“I feel… I feel like my chest is a volcano, it’s so hot and something’s trying to burst out of it,” Kenneth said. “I feel like there’s less air, I feel like everything’s closing in. My head hurts, feels like it’s going to explode. And… there’s NOTHING going through my mind. Not really. Just… Nothing but this idea that I have to DESTROY something or I’ll fall apart.”
“… Kenneth, have you ever heard of Intermittent Explosive Disorder?”
“No. What’s that?”
“It’s… Something I’ve been thinking about ever since I first started to see you,” Ethan explained. “IED causes impulsive bursts of anger, which are often disproportionate to whatever sparks them. The outbursts can be things like screaming, tantrums, or breaking things. When feeling rage, a person with IED will often have racing, incoherent thoughts, increased energy, and tightness in the chest. After these episodes, they will usually feel guilty or embarrassed by their behavior. Does any of that sound familiar to you?”
Kenneth was quiet for a moment. “So…” he said finally. “There’s a name for it?”
“There is,” Ethan said. “And lots of other people have this condition, too. It’s not uncommon in people who’ve experienced extreme levels of abuse and trauma during childhood, like you have. The good news is that it’s treatable. Coming here and talking to me is one thing that can help you, if you’d like we can try to get you some mood stabilizers. Might take some time to find the correct dosage and medication.”
“I can take pills that make it go away!?”
“That can help you MANAGE it,” Ethan corrected. He didn’t want to set Kenneth’s expectations too high. Even after he’d found a medication that worked for him, he was still going to have anger, and it was still going to be intense at times. Hopefully, he’d have an easier time controlling how he REACTED to those feelings, though. “But, they will help you. Would you be interested in trying that?”
Kenneth nodded. “Yes,” he said.
Ethan smiled. “Alright, we’ll talk more about that next time you’re here.” He started to stand up, then froze halfway out of his chair. He could practically feel all the liquid in him splashing around as he moved. The fluid was slamming hard against his sensitive skin, and he bit down on a whimper. When he’d been explaining Kenneth’s condition and possible treatments to him, Ethan had been in his element. Just like earlier with Alex, he’d been helping a person understand themselves better. He’d been focused on something that was more IMPORTANT than his bladder.
Now though, his bladder was fighting hard to remind him that it was actually the most important thing in his universe right now and that if he didn’t start TREATING it that way, it was going to punish him.
“Oh…” he winced, trying his best to get all the way up onto his feet. A spurt squirted into the cloth beneath his boxers. Then another. And another. And then he knew he’d soaked the material through and was starting to hit clothes, so he tried hard to stop. Tried his best to stop. But, his dribbles kept coming. He finally gave in and clutched himself, pressing hard against his opening and sealing his flow shut. Kenneth KNEW that he had to pee, it was fine to hold himself!
“Are you sure you’re still okay?” Kenneth asked, watching him struggle.
“I really, really have to go,” Ethan admitted. “But, I’m still okay. Don’t worry.”
Kenneth went to the door and opened it. He held it there as Ethan walked through, seeing as now the other man needed to use his hands for something else.
Kenneth and Ethan were both turning red when they discovered Dwight and James deep in conversation…
The topic of which was all the weird places Dwight had decided to piss in the past.
“So, yeah… I’ve pissed outside a whole bunch. Peed into a vase before… Oh, and I peed in my hat once,” Dwight was explaining. “I got stuck in an elevator and I couldn’t wait. I thought ‘Oh, well my hat’s kind of sturdy, maybe I can go in it.’ But, it didn’t hold together as well as I’d thought it would.”
Kenneth rubbed a hand over his face. “Dwight, I’m sure the nice doctor’s assistant DOESN’T want to hear about you pissing all over the place…”
Ethan rocked on his heels and tried not to say that HE was sure that was EXACTLY what James wanted to hear about. Maybe James would even want to trade jobs with him if he found out how much Ethan had had to hear about peeing today…
Dwight turned. “Oh, hey doc. You can definitely pee on that plant if you have to and nobody will even notice. James told me about how—“
“Oh, shhhh!” James cried out.
“—When your pipes froze last December, he didn’t want the plant to die and—“
“SHHHHH!”
Dwight looked at him, “What?”
“Dwight,” Kenneth said. “Let’s go. You’ve done enough damage here.”
“Okay…” Dwight said, and the two were out the door.
Ethan turned to James, whom immediately started to ramble; “I promise, I only peed on the plant that day because—“
“I—It’s fine, James,” Ethan said, jerking his hips when his bladder spasmed harshly once again. Sweat trickled down his neck and turned cold. “You don’t happen to have an empty bottle, do you? Oh— No, I’d need to find someplace to hide it…”
That was precisely how James had predicted Ethan would react to that idea.
“And, I’m sure I’ve got way more in me than a bottle can fit…” Ethan added softly, so quiet James wasn’t sure if he’d meant for him to hear it.
James flashed back to his earlier idea and blushed hard. Ethan sure was in an awful state now, his feet shifting, hands kneading against his crotch. A few seconds passed and he made a sound that was quite a bit like a whimper.
James wanted to make him feel better…
But, would he really do THAT just to make him feel better?!
Before James could consider it any further, the door was opening, and a woman was entering.
Ethan made himself go still and forced his hands away from his dick. James could still see the way his muscles were reacting to the ache inside him, his position frozen as his muscles twitched from the strain.
“Hello!” Ethan said. “Nice to see you!” His voice was louder than he’d intended it to be, and he cleared his throat. “R—Ready to start?”
The woman gave him an odd look for a second, Ethan saw her gaze still on his crossed legs. “Are you?”
“O—Of course,” Ethan insisted, uncoiling his legs and forcing them to edge out until they formed an angle they would have taken if he wasn’t struggling not to pee his pants. His knees still trembled, just barely. “I'm fine! I’m ready when you are!”
The woman nodded and followed Ethan to the office.
James watched them go, worrying at his lip. Just one more appointment after this one, so Ethan would be done in two hours. Could he last that long?
When Ethan emerged from his office an hour later, he was limping. He could no longer stand upright all the way, and his hands were wedged into the crease between his legs. James assumed he must have ended up telling his patient the problem he was facing at some point— No way could he have kept it a secret when he was making it so obvious.
Sure enough, he heard the woman say to him. “Do you want me to try to get your door open?”
Ethan was stammering, “I— I— I can’t ask you to do that. I’m the one that should be—“
“I don’t mind trying,” the woman told him. “You know, it’s okay if YOU’RE the one who needs some help sometimes, right? I think…Is it hard for you to ask for help?”
Ethan was really blushing now. In just one sentence, he felt like their roles were reversing completely. “Uh… Well, I guess if you’re okay with it…” he said finally.
The woman took a bobby-pin out of her hair and wedged it into the small hole in the doorknob, she wriggled it around. “I know you can pick some types of locks with these…”
Ethan twitchily stood off to the side, knees rubbing together. His boxers felt pretty damp, the cloth he’d stuck there to catch his leaks was too wet to make a difference now. He’d spurted so many times during the last hour that his crotch was clammy. His patients were not supposed to worry about HIM. His patients were not supposed to try to help HIM. It was backwards. His hand squeezed so hard against his crotch. He needed help… He sucked in a sharp breath. “I—Is it working?” he asked, hopeful.
“I’m trying…” she said.
“If you can’t do it, it’s okay,” Ethan said. “I’ll be fine.” His pelvic muscles shook hard. His whole body was so tense. His bladder was punishing him for every time he told another person that they didn’t need to be concerned for him today. For every time he denied that HE needed to be taken care of as well from time to time.
Ethan’s hope died more and more the longer the woman tried to pick the lock. She finally turned around, apologetic. “I’m sorry…” she said.
“It’s fine,” Ethan promised, and immediately a sharp bolt of pain twisted inside his urethra, he felt like the bobby pin was being shoved in THERE instead of into the lock. His bladder was fed up with all of his downplaying. He was bursting, and he needed someone to help him find relief! He made himself smile. “Don’t worry about it.” Another spasm, even worse than the last, and he was bobbing up and down.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” Ethan said, and a long dribble of pee leaked out of his tip. “I— I only have one more appointment,” he explained. “I can hold it for that long.” Another spurt, and it hissed audibly. He prayed she hadn’t heard it.
“Okay…” she said. “If you’re sure…” She went to James’s desk to pay, and Ethan stood beside his partner, bouncing and squirming, ordering his bladder to just ACCEPT that he wasn’t going to piss for another hour.
Except, maybe if he RAN next door as fast as he could, got to the toilet and pushed down on his muscles so hard that he somehow managed to gush all this piss out in under a minute and ran back…
No, he couldn’t do it that fast. He knew he couldn’t.
Maybe he didn’t HAVE to go all the way next door? There was a little crevice between his building and the sandwich store. He could tuck himself in there and let it all flow…
And if his patient was walking in at that exact amount, he’d be caught doing it.
No. Bad idea.
And it was too late now, anyway. His final appointment of the day had arrived. Another woman, Emily. And this one was able to guess his problem right away— Not that it took much effort, he was holding his crotch, crossing his legs and jiggling. There weren’t very many reasons for a person to do all of that. “Um… Are you okay?”
“I— Well, my bathroom door is stuck,” Ethan explained. “And I haven’t been able to go all day, and I… I’m afraid I like coffee a bit too much as well. So, I apologize if I am a little bit… Fidgety during our session today.” He couldn’t believe he’d just… Laid it all out like that, given his patient a reason to fret over him. But, somehow he felt BETTER now that he’d said it, now that he didn’t have to try HIDING it anymore.
“Oh,” Emily said. “Well…” she dug around in her purse, retrieved a very small bottle. “I… I have this?” she said.
‘Ah…Oh dear…’ Ethan thought. This was so unprofessional. This was wrong. This was not something he should ever do. Ever. The bottle wouldn’t even be big enough! But, he could let SOME of it go, he could get a little relief, take the edge off so he could hold it. And, since she was the one GIVING it to him, he didn’t have to worry so much about hiding it afterwards, right? No, no! He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, he shou—
He’d reached for the bottle without realizing, without even consciously choosing to do it. “Th—Thank you,” he said, mouth moving on its own. “O—One moment, please…” He went into his office, shut the door and unzipped himself. He froze. Was he really about to flood a bottle inside his office? While his patient WAITED out there and knew EXACTLY what he was up to?
‘You’ll… You’ll do a better job if you can CONCENTRATE. And you’ll CONCENTRATE more if you’re not completely bursting…’ With that thought, Ethan’s liquid started to rattle into the small, plastic receptacle. “Ohhhh….” Ethan moaned faintly, his relieved utterance sounding implausibly loud in the quiet room. Just being able to RELAX all those tight muscles for a second felt absolutely incredible. He felt better, he felt better, he felt… He felt the bottle getting warm and heavy.
All too quickly, he’d nearly reached the top, and knew that he had to cut off his flow or he’d make an enormous mess. He tried, body going rigid as he fought to slam his floodgates shut again. Urine kept leaking and dribbling from his tip, and he managed to stop completely for a second, whimpering. But then he was gushing all over again.
Pee was starting to spill down the sides of the bottle as he overflowed it, and Ethan squirmed and begged his body to stop, but he was still peeing and now a few drops had hit the carpet, and—
Ethan released a pained groan, snapped his legs together, and finally stopped. With shaky hands, he twisted the cap back onto the bottle and shoved it into his desk. He knew it was likely to start smelling during the next hour, but his patient KNEW what he’d done already.
She KNEW what he’d done…
Blushing hard, Ethan zipped his pants back up. How could he have just done that?! It was wrong! It was inappropriate! It was so, so embarrassing! And he hadn’t even gotten to finish— Stopping midstream had been torture! He stomped his feet against the floor, hips twitching, but after a few seconds he realized his bladder DID feel a little more manageable now. His mind was less clouded by the fog of his desperation, too.
One more hour.
He could do that.
He opened the door, expecting to see Emily right there, but she wasn’t there. He heard her near James’s desk, talking with him. “Does Dr. Willow have trouble accepting help often?” she was asking.
“He does,” James confirmed. “I tell him all the time that it’s fine if he needs somebody else, but I don’t know. I think he feels like, since he’s always taking care of people and stuff, his own needs have to come second. He lets ME help him a lot, but he’s never been good at asking for i— Oh, hey Ethan!” he waved. “We weren’t talking about you!”
“It’s quite alright, James,” Ethan told him. Nothing James had said was untrue, Ethan DID often struggle with accepting help, and especially with asking for it.. He knew that, and he knew it was a problem. And, truthfully, he even knew some things he could DO about the behavior. But, Ethan couldn’t be his own therapist, couldn’t view his own struggles through the same objective lens he was able to look at his patients through. “Emily, come back with me.”
When Ethan took his chair in his office, the waistband of his pants compressed his irritated bladder and made him shiver, tense as could be.
“Did you use the bottle?” Emily asked him.
The hot bands in Ethan’s throat grew tighter. “I— I did…” he said. “But… It was kind of… Small.”
“Oh. So you still need to—“
“It’s better now,” Ethan promised. “Don’t worry about me, that’s my job.” He frowned, running that sentence through his head again. It sounded a little backwards, and untrue. Ethan HADN’T been worrying enough about himself today.
“Okay…” Emily said, and their session began. Ethan bounced in his seat constantly throughout it. He’d squirm uselessly in all directions. The walls of his bladder, the muscles controlling them, and his sphincters were all deeply annoyed, furious with how he’d been treating his body. He hadn’t emptied himself all day, just a whole bunch of shameful leaks, two soaked rags and a bottle he’d overflowed. None of that had been good enough, none of that had gotten him what he truly needed, which was an empty, bone-dry bladder. Ohhh, he just wanted all this piss out of his body, he’d been containing it all for so long that the need was just TERRIBLE now.
He was able to respond to Emily, he was able to listen to everything she told him and offer advice, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t stop wondering how much time was left— How much longer was he going to have to wait? More spills pumped into his boxers, and he was left with no choice but to grip himself to stem the flow. His hand shook as it pressed harshly into his groin.
When the session concluded, Ethan was immensely relieved. He decided to let James handle Emily’s payment all on his own, he could manage that perfectly fine. Ethan couldn’t manage his bladder any longer, he needed to run from this room, out the front door and to the sandwich shop. Then, he’d tear into the restroom like he was escaping a rabid grizzly bear and piss away until he was at long last completely empty.
The first step was getting out of his chair.
He started to rise, and immediately there was a massive, shuddering cramp assailing him from within, and suddenly his hands weren’t doing anything to keep his urine where it belonged. His lips fell apart in a silent gasp, sweat gushing down his back. He collapsed back in his seat, fanning his legs in and out while panic flared through his mind.
He couldn’t get up!
His bladder was so full that he couldn’t move, it was freezing him to his spot, confining him there and preventing its own relief from happening. What could Ethan DO now? He couldn’t get up to run to the toilet without pissing himself, but if he stayed in his chair much longer he was still going to piss himself.
He’d lost.
There was no way he was going to make it. He couldn’t do it. It was impossible.
“Oh! Are you alright?” Emily asked, staring at Ethan’s pained, coiled up body as he rocked back and forth on his chair.
‘Yes. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’ Ethan tried to say. But, those words died on his lips. He wasn’t fine at all, and he NEEDED someone to worry about him, he needed someone to… To HELP him.
James was good at helping him.
“Pl—Please pay my assistant as fast as you can, and then send him in here?” Ethan requested. He needed help, he needed James… He wanted James now!
“Okay,” Emily said gently, leaving the room.
Ethan was by himself now, doubling over with a moan, bucking against the pressure of his palms. None of it was helping anymore. The stone of his bladder was crumbling to bits and he was going to explode!
Ethan waited for James. He waited and waited and waited. And even though it couldn’t have been more than three minutes before James showed up, Ethan felt like it had been an eternity.
“Ethan?” James asked. “Are you—“
“I can’t get up!” Ethan interrupted, realizing now that he didn’t actually know what he wanted James to DO for him— He’d only got as far as accepting that he needed James’s help. “D—Did Emily leave?” If he was going to flood himself, he didn’t want a patient in the building while it happened.
“Yeah, it’s just us now,” James said. He hadn’t seen Ethan THIS desperate in a long, long time. Even the day his boyfriend had accidentally urinated in his lap, it hadn’t been this intense. Ethan looked like he was being tortured, his body obviously showing him no mercy. “Can I help you stand?” James offered. He took Ethan’s arm. “Let’s go, nice and steady now…”
Ethan moaned and latched onto James, slowly being lifted upright, and—
A hissing sound penetrated the air.
Ethan was peeing forcefully. His breath hitched and his whole body shuddered. “N—No, I can’t— I can’t walk— I can’t—“ He folded over on himself, clutching away and cutting his release off yet again. But, he could feel so much heat traveling in his length, his piss was sure to start pouring out again any second now. He couldn’t walk, he couldn’t make it…
“I could carry you?” James suggested, but even as the words passed his lips he knew it would never work. Ethan would probably burst completely the second James had lifted him. He’d drench them both in an instant. And this time, having Ethan accidentally pee on him wouldn’t give James any pleasure at all, he’d be too knotted up with the sympathy he felt for the poor man, having an accident inside his office, soaking the carpet and leaving what was sure to be an obvious stain behind.
Ethan needed some way to go right where he was.
James hurriedly opened the drawers of Ethan’s desk. He found the two handkerchiefs Ethan had already let himself flow into. They’d dried off a bit since then, he could use them again. And, maybe if he soaked ALL of the cloths he’d get enough out to be able to walk to a toilet?
‘No,’ he thought. He could already imagine what Ethan would say;
“I was going to throw out the two I… used. I can’t ruin them all like that!”
He found the bottle Ethan had filled. Maybe if he dumped it out somewhere, Ethan could refill it again and again until he was finished. It was sure going to hurt to have to start and stop over and over, but it would be better than a full on accident.
Where COULD he empty it, though? The only sink was in the bathroom, so it was as unobtainable as the toilet was. Maybe he could pour it on the plant instead, then?
Once more, he could hear Ethan’s response.
“I… Have a lot in me. If you water a plant too much, it dies. And it’s probably gonna be worse if we use something that ISN’T even water.”
There weren’t any other options inside the drawers, though. And Ethan’s trash-can was wire mesh, any liquid would run straight out of it and soak the floor. He couldn’t pee THERE, either.
There was that… That one idea James had been wrestling with all day…
Would Ethan be okay with it? Just so long as James assured him that HE was okay with it? Would it even work? Would Ethan be able to relax and let go of his bladder in such a strange, off-putting way? Would James be able to swallow it fast enough, or would it spill out on the floor? James couldn’t end up CHOKING on it, could he? Was that possible?
There was only one way to find out the answers to those questions. James took a deep breath. “We… Are alone now,” he said. “And, um… I had an idea of a way I can help you… But it’s… I don’t know if you’d like it because it’s really, really weird. And you’d probably think it’s gross and you wouldn’t want to put me through it— But, I promise I’M okay with it if you are, so don’t worry about that, and—“
“J—James…” Ethan whined. “If you have an idea, please tell me? I— I’m holding on by a thread.”
“O—Okay,” James said. “Now, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If it makes you too uncomfortable, I’ll try to find some other way. I just want to make you feel better, and if this makes you feel worse, tell me and I won’t be upset. I’ll just think of something els—“
Ethan stomped his feet hard. “James, please?” He needed relief! He didn’t care how he got it! He couldn’t fathom what James was going to suggest. The only thing he could come up with was that James was going to say they take their shirts off and have Ethan stand on top of them while he pissed his pants so that the carpet would be saved. Ethan wouldn’t like it very much, but he absolutely didn’t want to make a mess of the floor, and they’d be going straight home anyway so their clothes would get clea—
“I… Um…” This was one of those incredibly rare moments where James struggled to talk. Usually, he chattered nonstop and didn’t think twice about what came out of his mouth. Now though, he couldn’t even string a sentence together! And, it was worse because Ethan couldn’t wait much longer to hear the idea, if James didn’t spit it out, Ethan was going to pee his pants before an alternative was even presented.
“James…”
“Okay, okay!” James said. “I was… I just… I wouldn’t mind if you… In my mouth, and I… Got rid of it for you…”
Ethan stared at him, his teeth grinding together sharply as he sucked in a very shallow puff of air. A very long moment passed, during which Ethan twitched and shook and his face started to go pale instead of pink.
“If you don’t wanna do that, that’s okay! I’ll think of— Of something else!”
“James. Are you sure? I thought you told me you weren’t interested in… In drinking… It.”
“I’m still not,” James admitted. “But, the idea doesn’t gross me out a ton, either. I dunno why, but I’m, like… Okay with it. I wanna help you feel all better, and—“
“You’d… You’d be willing to…” Ethan’s mouth dropped shut. He couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t make any more sounds beyond his tiny, whimpering moans.
“I would,” James said, blushing. It wasn’t like he thought this was a very normal thing to offer, either. But, he… He just wanted to help Ethan. That was what he always wanted. “Only if YOU’RE willing. You don’t have to…”
Ethan wrenched hard against his clenching hands, knees wobbling and buckling beneath him. “I— I think… I think I… I kinda DO have to. Really bad. You’re sure, though?”
“I am,” James said. “I’m okay with it, I promise. I wouldn’t have suggested this if I wasn’t okay with it.”
“O—Okay,” Ethan said. His trembling fingers curled around his zipper, bladder spasming and begging him to yank it down. He hesitated. He’d peed in some odd places before, he could admit that. Desperation had driven him to relieve himself in a lot of spots that wouldn’t have been his first choice. This, though. This was… He didn’t even KNOW what this was. “James, I— What if— What if it’s grosser than you’re imagining, and you… You can’t…”
James looked him in the eyes, and noticed he was beginning to tear up. Was his bladder hurting that bad, or was it something else? “What?”
“I… I… What if, you actually really hate this. And then… Afterwards, you can’t even look at me. You think I’m too disgusting, and… And so you don’t like me anymore…”
“I could never stop liking you,” James promised. “Even if it… Tastes really, really bad, and it turns out I hate every second of it, I’ll still love you just as much afterwards.”
“But, what if you’re wrong?”
“I’ll still see you the same way,” James assured. “Even if I end up thinking this is gross. I won’t stop loving you because of that. It won’t change anything. If I hate it, all it will mean is that I tried something out that I didn’t enjoy. But, I don’t think I CAN completely hate it, because I’ll be HELPING you.”
“O—Okay…” Ethan said, beginning to unzip. “H—How do I— How do we—“
“Um…” James got down on his knees, the same way he did when he was readying himself to suck Ethan off. Those memories gave him an idea of how to make sure Ethan didn’t ‘miss’. “Maybe… Just… stick it in my mouth? Like if we were—“
Ethan nodded, trembling as he freed his cock. James saw a drop of urine already collected on his tip. “Um… Okay… You’re sure?”
“Yes, you don’t need to ask,” James said. “I’m sure. Whenever you’re ready.”
Ethan wanted to do this, he certainly ENJOYED having James’s lips wrapped around his cock. And, he was dying to go. He was dribbling where he stood, little droplets plinking to the carpet. With his dick now out, Ethan wrapped his hands around it, swayed from side to side, jiggled up and down.
It shouldn’t have been so adorable, but James felt some heat in his cheeks anyway. Ethan was doing his familiar pee dance, so full of need, ready to burst. It made James want to take care of him.
“If you’re too uncomfortable…”
“I— I am uncomfortable,” Ethan said. “I can’t hold it…”
“You don’t have to.” James reached out towards Ethan’s cock. “Let me help.”
Ethan released his penis from his hands, urine immediately beading up in his urethra. “O—Okay, you… Um… However you want…”
James edged himself closer, his hand grasped Ethan’s dick and he looked up. Ethan nodded, very slightly. So, James continued, he drew Ethan’s member into his mouth and focused on holding his tongue still. He wasn’t sure if Ethan COULD get hard in this condition, but didn’t want to tempt him to. It would become very difficult for him to piss if that happened.
‘Maybe if I got him hard, he’d be able to walk next door without going?’ James thought briefly, but he knew THAT was a godawful idea. Ethan would never walk into the sandwich store with an erection, even if he was able to hide it.
James waited for the first spurts of Ethan’s piss to wet his tongue, but nothing came out. He assumed Ethan was waiting for some kind of signal that it was time, so James looked up at him and flashed a thumbs-up.
Ethan was actually TRYING to pee, he was just having trouble. Everything in him was screaming that this wasn’t a good idea, that James would be revolted, that in spite of everything he’d said to the contrary, he’d be so disgusted after this was finished that he’d never look at Ethan again. He shook from so much more than desperation.
Suddenly, he felt something warm encasing his hand, felt it being gently squeezed. James was holding him, trying to reassure him, to make him understand and accept that this was an okay thing to do and that James wanted it. James wanted to help and make him feel better.
Ethan’s bladder loosened, and his release began. His heart thudded hard in his chest. He was doing this. He was actually doing this. He was pissing into James’s mouth, pissing down his throat. He was… He was USING him…
Ethan let out a strange noise that was a mixture of nervousness and relief. It felt good to let go, and he couldn’t stop, but… But he was USING James… He was…He was defiling him…
James had been weirdly startled by the warmth of Ethan’s urine. He had no idea why, he knew full well that pee was warm, but it felt strange inside his mouth, going down his esophagus. The taste wasn’t anything James thought he’d ever find himself craving, but it wasn’t absolutely horrendous either. James didn’t think he would have cared that much if it HAD been revolting, anyway.
James had to swallow quickly, The release pouring from Ethan’s tap was forceful and fast. Poor thing had held it so long, had held so much… It was all going to have to blast out now. Except, Ethan STILL didn’t seem to be relaxing. His body was still shuddering, his expression was still pinched.
Their hands were still joined together. James squeezed down on Ethan’s hand again, rubbed a soothing circle into it with his thumb
Ethan understood immediately. Ethan wasn’t using him. Ethan was merely accepting his help; Help that James was happy to give.
And Ethan tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut and a sigh falling from his lips. James could feel the tension fading from his partner’s body, finding relaxation now as his bladder emptied itself. At last, James knew that he WAS helping, he WAS making Ethan feel all better. Warmth and fuzziness bubbled in his chest, and suddenly Ethan’s urine tasted a little bit better.
Slowly, Ethan’s deluge faded into a slight dribble, and his cock began to stiffen within James’s mouth. Ethan squeezed James’s hand twice, firmly. James leaned back then, swallowing the last of the liquid that had seeped into his mouth. He looked at Ethan’s now hard cock, but didn’t get much more than a glance at it before Ethan turned away from him.
“Ethan…?”
“I— I’m so sorry,” Ethan said. “I’m really, really, really sorry. I know you wanted to help me, and I’m… I’m thankful. But… I’m sorry.”
James came to his side. “You have nothing to apologize for. I offered to do that. You didn’t make me.”
“Did… Did it feel… Degrading?” Ethan asked. “I don’t ever want to— To make you feel that way.”
“It didn’t feel like that at all,” James said. “It felt like I was helping you, because I was.”
“You… Did help,” Ethan said. “I feel better. I had to go so bad, James…”
“I know,” James nodded. “But, everything’s okay now.” He put a hand against Ethan’s back, rubbed him there gently. “I’m here for you.”
Ethan relaxed greatly at the touch, he started to tuck his penis back into his pants, when James glanced at it. It was still stiff, too stimulated from being enclosed in James’s warm mouth. “You want more help?” he asked.
“James, we can’t do THAT in my office,” Ethan said, blushing.
“You just pissed in my mouth in your office,” James reminded. “What’s one more thing?”
Ethan thought about it. His erection didn’t seem to be fading. “Okay,” he said. “You can help me again.”
“Yay!” James said, and immediately he was back on his knees, opening his mouth.
This time, Ethan guided his length into James’s mouth himself, releasing a moan as James immediately began to suckle on it, occasionally flicking it with his tongue. He rubbed a hand through James’s hair, guiding his head down. “Th—Thank you…” he panted. “Thank you… Thank you… You make me feel so good…”
James rubbed a hand overtop of his clothed crotch. Being praised didn’t get to him as much as it got to Ethan, but it still felt wonderful to hear him breathe those words out as he sucked away. He tongued Ethan’s tip, enjoying the taste of him.
Tension built up in Ethan’s body, pleasure rolling over him as James continued to lick and flick at his cock. James took Ethan in further, swallowing him up to his base, and prompting a massive, massive moan from his lips. James’s mouth was so tight, so warm, so—
Ethan frantically tapped on James’s shoulder to get his attention, but it was too late. He was already cumming, ejecting thick ropes of semen down his boyfriend’s throat. James reacted by simply CONTINUING to suck, hollowing out his cheeks and flexing his tongue against Ethan’s softening length.
“Ohhhh,” Ethan groaned. “God— James— James—!”
James withdrew from Ethan, gulping again, swallowing all of Ethan’s cum. Ethan stared at him, wide-eyed. “Did you just—“
“Why are you surprised?” James laughed. “After what we just did?”
Ethan blushed. “Um… Did it taste good?”
“Yeah,” James said. “And I helped you again!”
“Eheh, yeah…” Ethan said. “Let’s um… Let’s go home now. And I… Kinda want to give you something to drink that didn’t… Er… Didn’t… Come out of me. I wanna get you some water.”
“I mean, one of those WAS water at one point,” James said. “And coffee. Mostly coffee, I guess.”
“Um…Yeah,” Ethan said. “I just…” He pulled James into a hug. “Er… Thank you for doing that… You helped me. I feel good now.”
James hugged back, “Yay! That’s all that matters!” |
“Wow, that was a lot today,” James giggled to himself as he and Ethan were laying in bed.
“It was,” Ethan agreed. “I think that’s the worst I’ve needed to ‘go’ in ages. I’m still kind of sore.” He rubbed a hand over his midsection, the muscles there still felt taut and worn out. His bladder was NOT pleased with him for that marathon of a hold. It was touchy and irritable.
By the time they’d returned home, James was absolutely bursting. He’d spent the latter half of their drive crossing his legs and bouncing, repeatedly asking how much longer it would be even though they’d taken the rout from Ethan’s office to their house hundreds of times. Ethan actually ended up speeding a few times because he was so determined to get James comfortable again.
Ethan himself hadn’t been that comfortable either. His sphincters and holding muscles had been shot to Hell after everything he’d put them through. Only twenty minutes after he’d finally relieved himself, he was eager to go again. Beyond that, his brain was uncomfortable as well. He knew James only had to pee so badly because he’d had so much to drink right before they’d left.
He’d… Drank so much of Ethan’s…
‘But, he told you it was okay,’ Ethan reminded himself. ‘He wasn’t disgusted, and now the only bad thing that’s happened to him is he needs to go… Get rid of it all for good. It’s fine.’
They made it home in time for James to use the restroom. He left the door open while he urinated, as he so often did. The sight of James’s shoulders slumping, and the sound of his pee hissing away, made Ethan’s fatigued bladder cramp up and prompted him to rub his knees together.
James caught him fidgeting in the corner of his eye and stepped over slightly without a word so that he could join. Ethan accepted the offer gratefully, pulling himself out and relaxing his weary sphincters. He was relieved in two ways then, first from simply being able to go, and again when he felt no pain as it trickled out of him. He’d been a little concerned that he may have REALLY held it in for too long today and could have gotten an infection. Luckily, there was no stinging or burning, just the calm feeling of his body doing what it needed to do.
Ethan’s bladder continued to act up through the rest of the evening. He wasn’t able to make it longer than thirty minutes without needing another toilet trip. It didn’t freak him out too badly, this often happened if he and James played a game and James was particularly unwilling to give him permission to let it flow. He knew his body would be back to normal eventually.
As he laid in bed now, he sure was still feeling achey, though…
James watched him smoothing his hand along his abdomen and frowned. “You’re okay, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Ethan promised. “I’ve gotten kinda sore from holding it before, remember? Are… Are YOU feeling okay?” He asked. He hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but it had been weighing on him. “I mean, you aren’t… Nauseas, or anything, right?”
“Nope,” James said. “Pee’s normally safe to drink, unless the person it came out of was sick. That’s why you can drink it when you get lost in the dessert and can’t find any water.”
“I’ll keep that in mind in case we ever get stranded, I guess,” Ethan said.
“Okay, good,” James said. “Because, with how big your bladder is, I’m sure you’ll have enough that neither of us gets dehydrated!”
“Eheh, yeah…” Ethan started to lay down, but a pain stretching out within his lower stomach and down his sides made him pause with a wince. “Oooh…”
James watched with great concern. He had seen Ethan get worn out after a holding game a few times. He had seen Ethan need a day or two to recover afterwards before his bladder was back to normal. But, right now, he was acting more like he’d just run a marathon and all of his muscles had been annihilated. He was acting like he was REALLY hurt.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” James asked once more. “Do you… Need, like, a heating pad?”
Ethan laughed. “Actually, yeah. That might help,” he admitted. “I did that before once.”
That meant Ethan had worn his bladder out to this degree at least one other time; One other time that James hadn’t gotten to see. He slid out of the bed. “Okay, I’ll go get the heating pad for you. And when I get back, I need to hear that story, okay?”
“Ha, of course. I’ll tell you.”
James went into the restroom and retrieved the heating pad, then ran straight back to the bedroom. He was certain he’d made the trip in less than thirty seconds. As a confirmation, Ethan snorted out a laugh. “Wow, that was fast… Someone really wants a bedtime story, doesn’t he?”
“Yes!” James beamed. He plugged the heating pad in and let Ethan rest it against his bladder area. He hoped it made him feel better. He didn’t want Ethan to be in too much pain to tell the story!
“Okay, lay beside me then,” Ethan said.
James did so eagerly, cuddling against his partner, careful not to jostle him around too much.
Ethan draped an arm around him, gently massaging him as he spoke. “Okay. So, my first job out of college wasn’t in my own office, of course. I needed a bit more experience first, so I applied to be the guidance counselor at the middle school. I was hired, but the principal and I weren’t often on the same page. There are some people who think psychology is pseudoscience, or that therapy isn’t ever necessary for children— They either believe kids can ‘bounce back’ from things better than adults can, or that they haven’t faced enough ‘real’ problems to need help. The principal was a bit like that. On my very fist day he made it clear I’d only been hired because it was a requirement that the school have a counselor, and if he’d had it his way, then there just wouldn’t be one.”
“Well, that’s really mean,” James said. “I hope he didn’t hurt your feelings.”
“He did a little,” Ethan admitted. “When you get a new job, it’s not very fun to hear your boss basically tell you he doesn’t want you there. There were arguments sometimes, because part of my job was to help coordinate things for kids that need extra assistance. Very often, he would think my suggestions were unnecessary. There was a student who was very prone to panic attacks when she got overwhelmed. I met with her, her family and some of the staff so that we could set up a quiet space for her to go if she needed it. Her parents and a few of the teachers were on board, but when I went to the principal later, he thought it was all ridiculous.”
***
“Amanda is eleven,” Principal Haskins said, speaking extremely slowly. As if Ethan were a toddler and couldn’t understand long words. “Eleven year olds don’t have anxiety and panic attacks.
Ethan shook his head. He could tell Haskins that Amanda had come into his office hyperventilating and fighting for breath multiple times now. He could tell him that she’d broken down in tears because she was so scared all of her friends thought she was ‘insane’ because of her ‘freak outs’. He could tell him that ‘eleven’ was actually a pretty normal age to begin experiencing such things,. A sudden influx of hormones mixed with rapidly evolving social dynamics and levels of responsibility created an extremely stressful time, and with Amanda’s older brother moving away to college recently, of course she was carrying heavier feelings.
But, that would be sharing things about Amanda that she hadn’t told him he could share. So, instead he tried to calmly explain that anxiety was a completely natural emotion that everyone experienced, no matter what age, and that some people struggled with it more than others. Ethan felt awkward and out of place as he spoke. It was kind of surreal, because he knew everything he was saying was correct, yet being looked down upon by an authority figure made it impossible for him to sound confident.
“What does an eleven year old have to be getting ‘anxiety’ about?”
“I… Am not able to tell you the specifics,” Ethan said. He’d begun to fidget with his fingers, gripping onto them with his opposite hand and tugging at them. ‘Stop that…’ he told himself. “But, all people face stress, and—“
“Then she doesn’t need special treatment.”
“A—As I was saying, there are differing degrees to anxiety,” Ethan reiterated. “Sometimes—“
“Next time you see her, how about you try just telling her to calm down?” Haskins suggested.
‘Right, and then I’ll tell someone with a broken leg to just walk,’ Ethan thought. He wanted to say that out loud, but his tongue felt thick and heavy. “I— I’m afraid it’s a little more complex than that.”
***
“We went around and around for a bit,” Ethan explained to James. “In the end, I had to tell the student to just try to come to my office when she was struggling. But, I couldn’t get the principal to sign off on letting her leave class if she felt like she was going to have an attack. It was pretty heartbreaking, she was so upset about her classmates seeing her that way. She started to get teased, and that made her anxiety worse. All I could do was talk to her for a little while every few days.”
“That principal sounds awful,” James said.
“He definitely was,” Ethan said. “The good news is that it’s been a while since then, and the school’s got a new principal. I still hear from that student sometimes, and I think she’s really starting to flourish now that she’s in another school.”
“Oh, good!” James said. “But… Um… How does this—“
“Right, you want to hear about the time I completely wore out my bladder, don’t you?”
“… Yes, please.”
“Okay,” Ethan said with a smile. “So, as you can tell, the principal did not respect me at all. A few of the teachers did, but not many of them. And some of the other staff members weren’t that friendly, either. I think with a lot of them, they were going along with what the principal said because he could choose whether or not they’d be back for the next school year, and could make their jobs harder if he wanted to… You get the point, I was at the bottom of the totem pole there. Very rarely did anyone think I’d have something worthwhile to say, so I’d get ignored a lot when we did staff meetings. Even when I really, really, REALLY needed someone to acknowledge me.”
***
Every so often, the members of the school staff spent an entire day holding a meeting together at the long table in the library. The students loved those days, because the school would be closed and they wouldn’t have to come in. Ethan, on the other hand, didn’t like meeting days at all. He did not at all enjoy working in a place where his boss and the majority of his co-workers thought that he didn’t serve any real purpose. The students were the only things keeping him completely hating his job. Being able to do what he could to help them through their problems made his OWN problems easier to live through.
On a staff in-service day, he didn’t get to do any of that. He’d just get to sit there and listen to whatever Principal Haskins wanted to talk about. He could make suggestions about things, but he was rarely even acknowledged when he spoke, and whatever he said would NEVER be taken seriously.
During the meetings, Ethan would be made to feel like he was a lot younger than he actually was. He was treated like a small child trying to butt into a grown-up conversation that everyone else knew he couldn’t fully understand. If he wasn’t outright ignored, he’d just be brushed aside, like an irritating fly. Sometimes, it was like Haskins didn’t even HEAR what Ethan had just said to him.
The most irritating moments came when Ethan spoke up, was ignored as usual, and then someone ELSE immediately said the SAME thing he just had, and Haskins suddenly exclaimed that THEY’D made a great point. Ethan figured that Haskins was probably trying to get a rise out of him, because if Ethan ever raised his voice or got too emotional, then Haskins would finally have an excuse to fire him and find a new person to fill the counselor position; Hopefully someone who wouldn’t try so hard to make Haskins take the mental health of his students seriously.
That was what Ethan thought anyway, and nothing about Haskins’s behavior suggested to him that he could be wrong.
In spite of it all, Ethan could not bring himself to truly hate Haskins. He disliked the man, sure, but he did his best to understand that Haskins was STILL a person, no matter how annoying and uncaring he was. Haskins was a really old guy, and while Ethan didn’t want to judge him based on his age, he thought it COULD explain why he had a negative view of therapy. Haskins also likely didn’t remember what it was like to be a kid very well anymore, so perhaps he just didn’t UNDERSTAND that things that seemed super small and trivial to an adult were major catastrophes to children.
During one particular meeting, Ethan finally started to actively revile Haskins. He didn’t lose sight of Haskins’s humanity, but clearly saw that he was the sort of person that often acted with very deliberate malice. He was still a person, and he was one of the few people Ethan hated.
The day of the meeting got off to a terrible start when Ethan’s alarm failed to ring. He overslept, but luckily only by about twenty minutes. He still had a chance of making it to the school on time so long as he skipped his morning shower. He quickly put on some clean clothes and made his hair look half-way presentable, then finished his coffee as fast as he could, because there was no way he could function this early without it.
Halfway through the drive to the school, Ethan noticed the problem. Since he’d failed to shower this morning, he hadn’t gone into the restroom. And, thanks to his tiredness, without actively SEEING the toilet, it hadn’t crossed his mind that he ought to USE it before going anywhere. As he waited at a red-light, he took stock of his situation. Did he need to go? Yes, he most certainly did. His kidneys had been hard at work all night, pumping quite a bit of fluid into his bladder, which he hadn’t relieved since around eight the previous evening. The result was a constant, dull tingle encompassing his abdomen.
Recalling a similar mistake he’d made before boarding a flight, one which had ended with him being caught urinating onto a fake fire hydrant meant to be used by service dogs, Ethan knew that foregoing his morning pee was going to cause trouble if he didn’t rectify it soon. As he drove, he passed by a gas station. He wondered if he could stop at it for a quick piss.
A glance at the car’s clock told him that wasn’t an option. It was very nearly eight, which meant he was going to be late if he took a break.
It was very nearly eight, which meant it had been almost twelve hours since he’d last—
Ethan shook his head, trying to clear that from his mind. Yes, twelve hours was a long time, but he didn’t need to go THAT badly. He’d been asleep through most of it, so he hadn’t even been drinking anything.
He HAD just finished a big mug of coffee…
That wasn’t a big deal! He’d be perfectly fine, and he’d go as soon as he got to the school.
Ethan made it to the building in time and found a parking space. When he exited the car and stood up, a tight knot of pressure wound its way through his bladder. He sucked in his cheeks and exhaled very slowly and carefully. It seemed he needed to go a little more than he’d thought. At least he was near a bathroom now. He just had to go straight through the front door, turn down the first hallway and he’d be free. He could forget that this whole silly mistake had even happened.
He was able to accomplish the first step with ease, making his way inside the school. He could already feel something inside of him going a little looser, prompting him to tighten his thighs to keep his bladder from getting too eager.
It was a good thing he’d been squeezing his holding muscles so tightly as he’d headed towards the hallway, because the sudden slap against his back may have made him leak otherwise. “Ah..?” He turned, seeing that Haskins was gripping his shoulder.
“Finally decided to turn up?” Haskins asked him. “We can’t get started until everyone is present. You know that.”
“I— I understand that, sir,” Ethan said. He wished Haskins would let go. His hand was too tight, sort of pinching his shoulder blade. And Ethan couldn’t juggle TWO uncomfortable pressures right now. “But, um, I’m actually a couple minutes early… I thought I could use that time to—“
“It is customary that one arrives at least half an hour before we are scheduled to start,” Haskins scolded, but also finally released his arm.
That had never been explained to Ethan… He rubbed his sore shoulder as he replied; “I— I see. Very sorry, I was unaware. I’ll be with you all in just a moment, hang o—“
“We have waited long enough on you, Ethan,” Haskins said. “Please come take your seat so we can begin.”
Ethan wanted to protest. The dressing down from Haskins had, for some reason, ignited a fire underneath his bladder and it now felt much warmer and heavier. Knowing that there were toilets a few paces away made it that much worse. He knew better than to argue, however. And he also knew that restroom breaks were permitted during the meetings, all a person needed to do was say where they were going and leave. Ethan could handle waiting through the introductions before taking a quick break.
When he got to the table in the library and sat down in a chair, he was crossing his legs and hoping that it wouldn’t take TOO long before he had an opportunity to excuse himself. Everyone else— save for Haskins— was already seated, and a few glanced in his direction, but only for a moment. He was grateful that they hadn’t lingered on him for too long, certain that discomfort was visible in his expression and posture.
Small plastic cups were laid out in front of each seat and Ethan groaned at the sight of them. They were empty now, but soon would be filled with water from the jug Haskins brought in. Now, he wished he really HAD been late, and was bracing himself for the auditory and visual torment that was about to befall his bladder.
Sure enough, when Haskins started to pour water into each of the cups, it felt more like the jug was being emptied into Ethan’s bladder. As his ears were assailed by the hiss of moving liquids— which sounded far louder than it had any right to— Ethan wished that he had the ability to turn back time. If he could just go back, make himself wake up a few minutes earlier, he could be seated here so much more comfortably.
Haskins continued around the table. The closer he got to Ethan, the more Ethan had to wriggle in his seat. He could see the streams pouring from the jug a lot more clearly now. He could see the way the fluid gleamed in the light, the gentle flow as it trickled down. He leaned backwards in his chair, trying to take some of the pressure away from his bladder. He assured himself that there would be a time— very soon— where he would be able to take a toilet break. He’d be able to go before his urge went from ‘really, really uncomfortable’ to ‘a total emergency’.
At last, Haskins came to Ethan’s side. Haskins glanced at him for a moment. Was he looking at him longer than he had anyone else…? Ethan tried to unclench and stop looking so tense. To Ethan’s surprise, he spoke; “You look really thirsty,” he said.
Ethan said nothing. He was sure that his face was flushed. He could feel himself sweating. He probably DID look a little dehydrated.
Haskins began to fill Ethan’s cup. Ethan clenched his eyes closed against the sight— a stream running out right in front of him! So close, he could hear every drop as it plinked against the plastic.
He found himself recalling his last physical at the doctor’s office. Having always struggled with providing urine samples when asked, he’d stupidly decided to get his bladder good and full before his appointment. But, then his appointment ended up being delayed, and he was stuck waiting in the office for nearly two hours, pee stretching him out so far that he was fighting back tears. When the doctor finally showed up, Ethan humiliated himself by begging to please, please be allowed to give his urine sample before ANY other part of the examination took place.
His request was granted, and he was graciously allowed to fill (Well, overflow, really) a specimen cup in the restroom. The sound of his pee gushing into that receptacle was identical to the sound he was being subjected to now. But, at the doctor’s office, the noise had been accompanied by one of the most glorious feelings of relief Ethan had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Here, it was accompanied by the sensation of a jackhammer drilling against the hard stone of his un-emptied bladder.
Suddenly, Ethan couldn’t take it anymore. “U—Uh, while you f—finish with the drinks, I need to take a bathroom break, okay?”
He awaited Haskins’s response, dreading that he’d say ‘no’. But, he didn’t. He didn’t say ANYTHING. When Ethan opened his eyes, Haskins had already moved onto the next person, apparently not having even heard his request.
“S—Sir?” Ethan asked.
Haskins just kept moving down the table. Ethan tried twice more to get his attention, but then Haskins had taken his own seat and the meeting was underway.
‘Okay… Okay…’ Ethan thought. ‘This will be fine. You don’t have to listen to water sounds anymore, so you should feel better. Just hang on until there’s a lull in the conversation, then you can ask again. He just didn’t hear you. It’s fine.’
The reassurances didn’t do much to calm his bladder down. He’d said the words ‘I need to take a bathroom break’! And that meant he was SUPPOSED to be peeing now! That was how it worked! The full organ was thrashing around inside of him now, frustrated at having its needs ignored. He shifted around again, his ankles rubbing together. He was certain that his coffee was beginning to kick in now, because his urgency was ramping up at a fast enough pace to alarm him.
“Alright, seems we finally have everyone here,” Haskins said, looking straight at Ethan.
“I’m very sorry,” Ethan said, fidgeting from something other than desperation for once. Now that Haskins’s eyes were on him— now that EVERYONE’S eyes were on him— he thought maybe he’d actually be HEARD when he asked for relief. His bladder cramped and begged him to please, please ask. But, he didn’t want to leave now, not after Haskins had just called attention to his ‘lateness’.
‘But, you weren’t even LATE,’ Ethan reminded himself. ‘You were two minutes EARLY— Which should have given you time to—‘
“So, we’ll get started now,” Haskins continued, looking away from Ethan to address the group as a whole. “There are a few things to discuss today, so this will be one of our longer meetings. We’ll have a short lunch break in a few hours, though.”
Ethan jammed his thighs together, taking care to ensure his opening was pinned right in between them. One hand squeezed onto his knee, the other gripped the edge of the table. He swore he noticed Haskins’s eyes flick towards him as he’d mentioned how long this meeting would be. ‘You imagined that,’ Ethan thought. ‘Needing to go is just making you feel vulnerable. Calm down.’
“First thing,” Haskins said. “I’ve noticed some test scores slipping. Ms. Hollow, I understand that even one of the top students in your home room class is beginning to fail exams. You have been devoting all of your class time to instruction, haven’t you?” No allowing the kids to goof off?”
This was something Ethan thought he could shed SOME light on. Generally, when a formerly straight-A student suddenly started to struggle in school, that meant something ELSE was going on in their life which affected their ability to concentrate. He also figured he knew which student Haskins was talking about. Her grandfather had passed away recently, she’d come to Ethan a few times to talk about how she’d been unable to stop thinking about him and how much she missed him.
Ethan couldn’t give all the details, but he could explain that a sudden, rapid decline in school grades was often a sign that a student needed extra emotional support. He tried to say as much, but he barely even had time to open his mouth before Haskins was speaking again. “I’d like to suggest that we give the students a little extra homework for a bit, more practice before tests should nip all of this in the bud.”
Ethan wasn’t so sure. Of course, more studying could be helpful, but that was only a piece of the puzzle. And there did exist such a thing as studying TOO much, being burned out was never good, either. He almost said something, but then his attention was drawn back towards his bladder. Heat started to move down his length. The hand on his knee quickly went to his crotch instead. He blushed furiously, appalled that he was gripping himself in the middle of a meeting. He’d just been so certain that he was about to leak that he’d acted on instinct. At least no one could see where his hand was below the table.
So, when Ethan made another attempt to speak up, he did so with the intent to ask for a toilet break. “Ex—Excuse me…” He said, nervous that it was still too early in the meeting to leave.
Not that it mattered, because it didn’t look like Haskins had heard him. He just kept talking, giving suggestions on new practice assignments the students should do at home, how much work to give at once, the importance of emphasizing to students that their test scores mattered. The teachers around Ethan threw in their own input, and the librarian recommended a few work-books to find assignments in.
All the while, Ethan’s bladder grew more and more irritable. It pulsed and pounded, and he felt heat rushing against his opening. He put both hands in his lap and leaned forwards into them. Everyone was talking over each other, so he didn’t have THAT much hope that he’d be heard, but he gave it another try anyway; “Excuse me, I—“ He cleared his throat, immediately regretting it when that managed to prompt a little dribble of liquid to warm his boxers. “Excuse me—“
No one even looked at him. He tried one more time, raising his voice. “Excuse me!”
Nothing. It was simply too loud at the moment. He had to wait for everybody to quiet down again. THEN, he was sure, he would finally be allowed to go.
It took almost half an hour for everyone to come to an agreement on the amount of homework each class should give per night. Ethan spent each of those thirty minutes in near-total agony. He’d been unable to stop a few more spurts from leaking out of him, and each one shocked him so much that he couldn’t help but try again to get someone’s attention. It was like he’d been turned completely invisible, though. No one so much as glanced at him, even when he was sure the hissing of his momentary losses of bladder control should have been loud enough to hear.
Maybe he HAD somehow turned invisible. That would sure be nice. He could squirm and writhe as animatedly as he’d like. Hell, he could even just get UP and go use the restroom! He knew better than to actually believe he’d developed a super-power though. He knew he was visible, and that if he stood, he would be told to sit back down by Haskins.
But— But, then Haskins would be NOTICING him! And he’d be able to say “I just need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” Maybe he should just do that!
Clenching his eyes closed and tightening down on his lower muscles, Ethan prepared to stand. He’d been seated for so long with his ankles knotted together that his feet had fallen asleep. He knew getting up was going to hurt, to say nothing of what the change in position would do to the sloshing ball of piss in his middle. Gingerly, he started to force himself upright. As he moved, the liquid trapped within him moved as well. His urine felt like it was rising and splashing around within him. He felt another slam of pressure against his sphincters, and broke out into a cold sweat. When that pressure moved even lower, culminating in a long, slow trickle into his boxers, Ethan stopped what he was doing, sat back down all the way, doubled over, and gripped himself hard with both hands.
He couldn’t get up in this condition! Everyone would see him clutching his crotch, like a little kid on the verge of an accident! He needed to wait for this awful spasm to pass, he just needed his body to calm down, he needed the waves of pee within him to settle. Then, he’d be able to carry all of it to the restroom without thoroughly disgracing himself along the way.
When he was able to uncurl himself and look up, he saw Haskins’s eyes were latched right on him. He was looking! Good! “Sir,” Ethan said, speaking loudly to be heard over the other conversations. “May I please—“
Haskins suddenly clapped his hands together, starling Ethan badly enough that new warmth re-wet his drying crotch. “Alright,” Haskins said.
At first, Ethan actually thought Haskins had been speaking to HIM, had been saying “Alright, you can go to the toilet now, Ethan.” But, of course that wasn’t what he was REALLY saying.
Haskins had SEEN Ethan, he’d been looking directly AT him, staring him in the face as Ethan had tried to speak up, and now he was going to continue the meeting as if Ethan hadn’t said anything at all.
Of course, Haskins had never thought anything Ethan had to say was important. But, couldn’t he make an exception THIS time? In that moment, peeing felt more important than ANYTHING else Ethan had ever tried to convince Haskins of. If Ethan could just FINISH his statement, if Haskins knew that the only thing he was asking for was permission to empty his bursting bladder, maybe he wouldn’t be so intent on ignoring him? Ethan was certain that if Haskins only KNEW that he had to pee so badly, his suffering would be allowed to end.
“I think we’ve gotten the homework thing sorted out,” Haskins went on. He paused as everybody finished quieting down. Then, Ethan saw him look over at him again before his eyes flicked back away. Haskins’s hand wrapped around his cup of water, which he lifted and brought to his lips before taking several long, implausibly loud gulps. Ethan moved his legs around, knees bouncing, as he watched Haskins’s throat move with each swallow.
Ethan couldn’t tell if Haskins was a noisy drinker, or if his desperation had made his ears way too adept at hearing water noises, but either way, having to listen to that was making Ethan’s entire lower body ache with strain. When Haskins finally finished with his water, he gave a slow sigh. “Ahhh…”
Ethan flinched at that as well, hands digging more firmly into his crotch as he wriggled his butt around in his chair. The people seated directly beside him kept looking over, making him blush. But, he just couldn’t stay still! He’d explode if he tried! His legs jiggled as adrenaline surged through him, a few more droplets still threatening to leak into his already sodden boxers.
“We’ve all been talking a lot,” Haskins continued. “I want to make sure everyone is taking good care of their throats. If you haven’t finished your water yet, please do that now.”
‘What? No!’ Ethan thought in horror. The cup wasn’t that big, but it was still way more than Ethan had the room for! But, everyone else was drinking, so that meant he had to do it too. Gulping with nervous dread, Ethan forced one hand away from his groin and used it to pick up his cup. Even just holding it in his HAND was making him need to go worse. He could feel the coolness of it, could see the fluid wobbling in the container, being jostled by his anxious, shaking hand. He took a sip, and his throat contracted when he tried to swallow it. His body did not WANT any more fluid.
He forced it down anyway. Every swallow was pain. Keeping his legs crossed, he tried to just focus on getting the cup emptied. His bladder demanded all of his attention though. It felt like a water balloon being squished between two heavy boulders. Another spasm encouraged Ethan to shift again, his fingers doing their best to pinch his bladder’s exit path-way closed. When he’d finally drained the cup, when he’d finally dumped another bunch of fluid down into a container that had no space for it, Ethan had to curl over on himself again, rocking back and forth. He dropped the cup to the table, and heard it rolling, but he didn’t care. He just thrust his now free hand against himself and pleaded with his floodgates to stay closed.
His eyes flew back open, it was still quiet, so he gave it one more try. “Please, excuse m—“
“Our next topic of discussion,” Haskins said, voice booming in the room. “Is in regards to the upcoming overnight field trip. There are a few things to get squared away. First, I’d like you to remind all of the students that anyone who doesn’t have at least a C average will not be attending…”
Haskins carried on and on, time moving way too slowly for Ethan’s liking. He bounced and bounced in his chair, not hearing a single word of Haskins’s speech. He knew part of his job was to remind the teachers to make note of any medications their students would have with them for the trip, but he was incapable of keeping a single thought in his head for longer than a second.
But, then Haskins said something that managed to pierce through the white-noise of need consuming Ethan’s ear-drums. “And, we are going to need a second set of permission slips for the white water rafting activity. We need parents to sign off, and a reminder that their children must be able to SWIM to partake in that part of the trip.”
Ohhhh… Oh Goddd… Just thinking about rafting down a river, or swimming in one, or being within five miles of one…. Ethan was about to make an enormous river right where he was! “I— I—“ The person to his left glanced over, and Ethan felt somewhat hopeful. “I have to—“
“Ahem?” Haskins cleared his throat, irritation evident. “You may speak when it’s your turn to speak, Ethan.”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan said. Rather than ashamed, he felt nothing but relief. Finally, some acknowledgement. “It’s just that I—“
“As I was saying,” Haskins interrupted. “Rafting can be very dangerous, so we need to be absolutely certain that everyone participating is capable of swimming. We don’t want any injuries. I’ve gone on this trip yearly with the school, that river gets very fast in certain areas, the water really rushes. And it’s loud, too, which causes another problem. It may be harder to hear a student over the sound of so much hissing, splashing, sloshing river-water— That can seriously overpower other noises. Last year, it was so loud in places that I could hardly hear my own thoughts over the spray…”
As Haskins continued blathering on and on and ON about the sound of the river, Ethan began to feel as if his bladder was about to rip right out of his skin like some terrifying alien creature. Beyond the pain of his astronomical need to just PEE, Ethan was also struck by an AWFUL realization.
It was not that Haskins wasn’t able to HEAR Ethan. It was not that he didn’t notice Ethan had to relieve himself.
Haskins KNEW. He knew full well that Ethan was BURSTING for a urinal. He was ignoring his pleas on purpose. He was interrupting his requests on purpose. He’d made everyone drink their water to torment Ethan, and now he was talking about the rafting trip for the same reason. He KNEW Ethan had been fighting off an accident all morning, and he WANTED to make him suffer even more.
There was a feeling in Ethan’s chest now. One he didn’t get that often. Up until then, he didn’t think he’d ever actually HATED another person before. He’d been annoyed by people in the past, he’d been frustrated by them, he’d found some dull and boring to be around. But, he had never, EVER met someone and thought ‘You know, I really HATE that guy.’
There was a first time for everything, though, and Ethan HATED Principal Haskins. He could only come up with ONE possible motivation for Haskins’s actions; This was some sort of power-flex. Revenge for all the times Ethan had tried to convince him he was wrong about something.
Did everyone else know, too? Was everyone else looking at him, fully aware that he was facing such a private crisis, and actively CHOOSING to keep him away from the solution to his agony? Because, if someone else DID notice that he was filled to the brim with urine, then THEY could have spoken up as well. THEY could have said, “Principal Haskins, you keep not hearing Ethan. I think he has something important he wants to ask!” But, no one had.
So, either they couldn’t tell, or they COULD but were choosing not to help him.
Ethan was really panicking now. It was no longer a matter of simply getting Haskins’s attention and asking. He already HAD that, Haskins just had no intention of letting him go. This meant that Ethan would NOT be able to use a toilet until the lunch break came.
Would he even make it that long?
He was suddenly transported back to his very first day of school. He’d had so much juice, and gotten so distracted by all of the new games and new people that by the time he realized he had to use the bathroom, it was already an emergency.
Well, technically, it was Miles who realized Ethan had to use the bathroom. Ethan had just been wriggling in his seat while coloring something and not paying any real attention to how uncomfortable his middle was feeling. Miles suddenly asked him if he needed to go pee, and upon hearing that word, Ethan suddenly stopped what he was doing to nod frantically at his friend.
Earlier in the day, he’d learned that when he needed the toilet at school, he had to raise his hand and wait until his teacher called on him. Then, he had to say “May I please go to the restroom?” Then he could go after she told him yes. So, squirming urgently, he’d raised up his hand.
And he kept raising it for several minutes. His teacher was busy with other kids… He tried waving his hand around some to get her attention. She was always facing the other way! He whimpered quietly, and stood from his seat so he could dance around a little, hand still high in the air.
“Say something,” Miles whispered. “Get her attention.”
But… Ethan had also learned he wasn’t supposed to talk loudly at school. Not unless he’d been TOLD to. He didn’t want to get in trouble for being noisy. He shook his head. His eyes were starting to water.
Miles shrugged, then gave it a try himself. “Ms!” He called out. “Ethan really has to—“
Before he could finish the sentence, he heard a lot of splashing and sniffling from Ethan. It was too late…
That had all been so embarrassing! His teacher had needed to call his Mom to bring him a change of clothes. Then he’d heard her telling his Mom that being potty-trained was a ‘requirement’ for Kindergarten, and that had really upset him. He WAS potty-trained, he’d just ALSO been trying to follow the rules! The next day, everyone but Miles teased him, and he was just lucky that little kids didn’t remember things like that for very long since they’d all forgotten it by the end of the week.
If he had an accident like that now, he wouldn’t be spared so easily. Most of the people around this table already didn’t see him as an equal. What the Hell would happen if, every time they looked at him, they’d remember the day he completely drenched himself during a meeting? An adult would never just forget about witnessing another adult pee their pants. If Haskins didn’t use Ethan soaking his seat as a reason to fire him, then Ethan would probably just have to quit. There would be no coming back after this.
He could NOT allow that to happen. He HAD to hold it. He HAD to make it until lunch, and then… Then God HELP anyone who stood between him and the closest available toilet. His memory did give him one more idea, though. Blushing red at how juvenile it felt, he raised his hand and waved it around urgently. Maybe THAT would get just enough attention that Haskins would HAVE to acknowledge him.
Haskins just kept talking though, and carrying on. He responded to comments from some of the teachers, and even LOOKED at Ethan once, but he never once asked. “Yes, Ethan? Did you have something to say?”
When he finally finished talking about the field trip, Haskins at last glanced at Ethan again. “Is your arm sore, Ethan?”
“No,” Ethan said, VERY grateful to be granted an opportunity to speak. “I just need—“
“Then, stop stretching,” Haskins said. “It’s distracting.”
“I apologize,” Ethan said. “May I please—“
“Moving on!” Haskins declared, and then continued speaking rapid-fire, preventing Ethan from getting even one word in. “The next thing we have to discuss; It’s time we make some changes to the restroom policy here.”
Fuck. Why?! God dammit! Why?! Was Ethan seriously supposed to just SIT here and listen to everyone talk about—
“I’ve noticed that a LOT of students will get bathroom passes when they don’t actually intend on using the restroom,” Haskins said. “They get the pass, and then skip the remainder of the period to wander around the halls and hang out with friends. This is, of course, unacceptable. So an update to the policy is necessary.”
‘Yes, fine,’ Ethan thought. ‘Update the policy. Change it to “Ethan gets to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW,” that sounds like a great policy!’
“As I understand it, most of you have it set up that if a student asks to be excused, you will automatically write them a pass and let them leave,” Haskins said. “That needs to change. Since the students won’t stop using the bathroom as an excuse to ditch class, from now on, each of you will hand out three passes to every student at the start of the semester. Once those are gone, they’re gone. If they get lost, they’re gone. And if they don’t have a pass, too bad, they aren’t going. I’m tired of having to bring kids to my office for cutting class.”
‘That’s a horrible idea, you blowhard,’ Ethan thought. ‘You’re punishing everyone because SOME kids are ditching. Why not just make a list of the problem students and do this stupid pass thing just with THEM for a while? They’ll learn real fast.’ Apart from the few truant students, the OTHER kids actually DID have to go. And only being allowed to get relief three times per semester was going to make them miserable.
And Haskins had just been talking about low test scores. ‘Well, guess what, moron? The kids are gonna do a lot WORSE on those tests if all they can think about during class is how bad they need to pee!’ Case in point; Ethan honestly hadn’t heard that much of the field trip discussion, or the homework discussion that had preceded it. The only reason he was able to pay any attention to THIS one was because hearing words like ‘bathroom’ and ‘toilet’ were a vicious siren song to his bladder!
Beyond all of THAT, what if a student was out of passes and then just… Couldn’t wait? Did Haskins have any IDEA how devastating an accident would be to a child old enough to attend middle school? Especially if it happened during class where everyone they knew saw? That kind of thing, as small as Haskins may convince himself it was, could cause a LOT of lasting damage.
It was an absolutely God-awful idea!
At least, this time, Ethan didn’t seem to be alone in his thoughts.
One of the teachers, Ms. Yolanda, spoke up. “That seems a little extreme,” she said. “When these kids grow up and get jobs, they’ll be able to use the restroom when they need to. School is about preparing them for the real world.”
Ethan nodded, even though part of her statement wasn’t completely accurate. As evidenced by his current problem, when the kids grew up and got jobs, they WOULDN’T be able to use the restroom when they needed to. Or, at least, they wouldn’t if their boss was Haskins.
“In the real world,” Haskins said. “If they ditched their job, they’d have even BIGGER consequences than needing to plan their bathroom breaks more wisely.” His eyes flitted in Ethan’s direction. It was very slight, but Ethan was able to notice it. He was certain Haskins had been looking at him when he continued by saying; “And, they shouldn’t be using the bathroom THAT much at work, either. When you’re at work, you’re supposed to be AT work.”
Ethan fanned his legs in and out, the area between his thighs felt very clammy. He wasn’t sure if he’d sprung another leak, or if that was just from all the sweat running off of him in buckets, perspiration created by the strain of holding back so, so much… He stared daggers at Haskins as the man espoused the benefits of the policy change. No more skipping out on class, no more wandering around unsupervised. If an incident of vandalism occurred in a restroom, it would be easier to find the culprit if they knew who had gone out at what time…
He kept going, talking about how the kids attending this school were certainly old enough to be able to hold their bladders longer than they acted like they could. He even went so far as to say that no one should ever have ‘an emergency’ once they’re passed the age of seven. Ethan got stuck on that statement for a while. He had a suspicion Haskins had crafted it specifically to make him feel more ashamed of himself. But, instead it threw him for a bit of a loop where he wondered if Haskins seriously hadn’t ever gotten desperate since he was a little kid. He doubted that was even possible, unless Haskins had the bladder of a camel.
Haskins snapped Ethan out of his thoughts by saying his name. “Ethan!”
Ethan froze, finally ceasing to wriggle for the first time in hours. His first thought was of complete panic, and he stared down at himself to make sure that he wasn’t currently in the process of urinating all over himself. His piss was still locked up inside. Good.
Well. Maybe not ‘good’. But at least, ‘better than having a public accident’, anyway.
“Y—Yes—“ Ethan said.
“Could you stop rubbing your shoes against the carpet?” Haskins requested. “The noise is distracting.”
‘Oh, so you can hear THAT,’ Ethan thought. ‘But when I’m trying to beg you for the toilet, suddenly I don’t exist… Right.’ He held his feet as still as he could, but the desire from within his body to keep moving was so strong it was nearly overwhelming. “I apologize, it’s just that I need to go to the restr—“
This time, when Ethan was interrupted, it was by the nerve-grating sound of rushing water, tinkling into a plastic cup. It was such a tease on his bladder that he sucked in a sharp breath and held it there, feeling heat right at the tip of his penis. A drop formed, soaked into his boxers, and was replaced by another. And another. He couldn’t exhale. If he let go of the air, he’d let go of all his piss. He was sure of it. The room was starting to spin. When he finally was able to breathe again, he opened his mouth. “I need a brea—“
“Ms. Wilson,” Haskins said. “What are your thoughts on the new policy.”
Ms. Wilson, one of the very few teachers that actually treated Ethan nicely, looked from Haskins to Ethan, then back again. “I think Mr. Willow was trying to tell you something,” she said.
‘Yesssss,’ Ethan thought. ‘Thank you, Ms. Wilson! Thankyouthankyouthanky—‘
“I’ll get to him in a minute,” Haskins said. “I was asking you.”
‘BASTARD.’
“Well, as Ms. Yolanda said, it is a little extreme,” Ms. Wilson said. “I’m not so sure if we should punish all of the children because a handful of them have misbehaved.”
“Ah, but it’s not a punishment,” Haskins said. “It’s a lesson. It will teach them to manage their time better, and go during their passing period, between classes.”
Ethan didn’t think that would work. The students complained to him often that they didn’t have enough time to walk from one class to the next, as the schedule allotted them only a scant three minutes. If they needed something from their locker, or needed to use the toilet, it was just impossible to make it in time. He remembered when he’d gone to school, how there was always a line for the bathroom between classes and sometimes he didn’t get a turn before the bell rang. That had led to many, deeply uncomfortable afternoons if he wasn’t able to get a hall pass. If he’d been limited to only three of those a semester, there were a few incidents he remembered that would have ended in accidents instead of amazingly relieving pees.
Ooooh, no. He didn’t want to remember that! He didn’t want to remember shoving open a classroom door at his old school. He didn’t want to remember speed-walking down the hall to the closest restroom. He didn’t want to remember getting to a urinal and unzipping his pants. He didn’t want to remember finally peeing!
But, oh how he did! As each new memory entered his mind, another squirt of pee entered his boxers. Haskins was still talking to Ms. Wilson, and Ethan needed him to stop. “Excuse me—“
And then Haskins must have said something else, because suddenly EVERYONE was talking over one another again. Ethan raised his voice “Excuse me!”
Just talking was adding to the weight atop his bladder, forcing out another spurt.
“Excuse me!”
Trickle….
“Ah—“ He gripped himself and rocked hard into his hands, stomping his feet against the floor. The flow ceased, but the front of his pants felt so clammy. “Excuse me—“
Everyone just kept talking! Only Ms. Wilson seemed to notice that he was desperate to be listened to!
Haskins clapped his hands together again, startling Ethan into YET another leak, this time in full force. He could hear it hissing as he regained control of himself. His lower muscles were all exhausted. He ground against his seat in a desperate bid to hang on.
Everyone fell quiet just as Ethan finally managed to cork himself closed again.
The Math teacher, Mr. Thompson, was the first to speak again. “Er, this discussion is kind of… Getting to me. Is it alright if I take a bathroom break?”
Haskins nodded. “Don’t take too long,” he said.
It was official. Ethan hated that man, and he was not ashamed to admit that to himself. Haskins had EARNED his hatred, and he’d worked VERY hard to do so. May as well give the man what he wanted.
Mr. Thompson stood from his chair, and Ethan couldn’t help but notice how EASILY he managed that. He also could see how Mr. Thompson was having NO trouble walking, either. His body was fully upright, not at all hunched over. He didn’t need to stop at any point. His legs weren’t shaking.
He BARELY had to go! Why was HE the one that was allowed to pee? Ethan needed it WAY worse! It wasn’t fair!
“Now then,” Haskins said. “I see this suggestion is a little more controver—“
Ethan turned. “Sir, I—“
“Ethan,” Haskins cut in, and Ethan was again stunned by the acknowledgement. “Could you please stop trying to interrupt us? We are having a discussion here, remember?”
“But, I—“
“At the moment, our topic is classroom management. YOU do not run a classroom,” Haskins said. “YOUR input is not necessary.”
“But—“
“Ethan. Just be quiet,” Haskins told him. He sighed. “Where were we?”
Ethan thought that he actually COULD offer some input here. He could tell Haskins that, being made to hold one’s bladder was incredibly uncomfortable. And that being ignored and denied when requesting to empty it caused feelings of frustration and shame. And then he could explain how public humiliation could have life-long impacts on how a person interacted with others. He could do all of that and use HIMSELF as a prime example, ‘See, if you put in a policy that could lead to students wetting themselves, that will destroy their self-esteem and confidence for years. So, when someone really needs to go, you should let them! So, please let me go now!’
But, he stayed quiet. Haskins wasn’t going to let him talk, and even IF Ethan managed to get his whole question out, even IF Haskins was forced to reply, Ethan knew what the answer would be. Haskins would tell him that he COULDN’T use the restroom, and that he needed to hold it.
So, Ethan would just keep trying to do that. He’d spilled a LOT into his clothes already, and he tried to fool himself into thinking that was a good thing. Most of it was still just on his boxers and hadn’t seeped out over the crotch of his pants yet. His boxers would dry off eventually and, in the meantime, Ethan had gotten SOME of the pee out of his bladder. That meant it should be easier to hold what was left!
Except, it didn’t feel easier. His muscles were exhausted and worn to bits. Every new drip burned as it came out. He was just so tired of fighting against the deluge, all of his clenching and contorting didn’t seem to be doing ANYTHING anymore!
Dazed, he could no longer hear the conversation taking place all around him. When Mr. Thompson came back, Ethan had to fight not to shoot him a jealous glare. He squeezed and clutched and wriggled and bobbed, but the pain just wasn’t getting any better!
Finally… Finally… Haskins announced that it was half past noon, which meant it was time for lunch. “Everyone, be back here by one.”
It had been sixteen and a half hours since Ethan had last voided his bladder. God… Had he EVER held it THIS long before? No wonder it hurt so badly.
But, it was over now. He had a half hour break now. A half hour that he could spend standing in front of a urinal, pants open, piss gushing freely. He was so full that he thought maybe he actually WOULD be going for thirty minutes straight. He just… Had to stand up, had to get up and find a toilet. Fuck, if he wasn’t absolutely certain that it would get him fired, he’d just let it all flow into the plant on the other side of the library.
He braced himself again, battening down his sphincters as he prepared to stand. He shut his eyes tight, clutching his cock for dear life. He wasn’t going to let go of himself. He didn’t care if everyone saw where his hands were. If he let go, if he removed the one dam separating his piss from the outside world, he would be drenched within a second.
Finally, he decided to just do it as fast as possible. He shot to his feet, pangs of need twisted and curled inside of him and the entire world seemed to turn on its side. Ethan actually worried for a second that he’d fallen over, his vision was so distorted and blurred. He WAS upright, though. Step one of his quest for relief was complete. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes against the dizziness.
Now, he had to walk. He managed one tiny, little step. He’d barely moved his foot, just shuffled it along, but that was still enough to shake the walls of his bladder. He felt like he was being ripped open. ‘Come on, Ethan,’ he thought. ‘You can do this. You’re so close. One step at a time… L—Left foot, right foot… Left foot… Right foot… Oh my God, it hurts…’
“Ethan.” Haskins’s voice.
Ethan opened his eyes again. Everyone, save for himself and Hendrik, had managed to vacate the room in the time it had taken Ethan to walk about six agonizing steps. “Y—Yes, sir?” He gritted out. He sounded like he was trying to speak while being strangled half to death.
“We need to talk about all those interruptions,” Haskins said. “Everyone here was trying to have a serious discussion, and you kept trying to cut in. What was that about?”
‘You want me to spell it out for you?!’ Ethan thought, furious. ‘You know damn well what’s going on!’ He shook and trembled. “I wasn’t trying to interrupt ex—exactly, I just—“
“Don’t try to walk away when I’m talking to you.”
Ethan hadn’t even noticed that he was still walking. His body was running on auto-pilot now, every part of it focused on one singular goal. His progress halted, he was left standing beside Haskins, hopping from foot to foot with his hands pinned between his shuddering thighs. “I— I’m very s—sorry if I distracted an—anybody,” he said. “I w—was just trying to—“
“Stand up straight when you’re being addressed,” Haskins said.
No. Fucking. Way.
Impossible.
He’d piss everywhere.
“Th—That’s the thing!” Ethan exclaimed. “I can’t stand up straight! I have to—“
“Ethan,” Haskins said in a warning tone.
Ethan TRIED. He managed to raise himself out of his hunched position, but the way his skin stretched over his bladder was ABYSMAL. He didn’t dare lift his shirt to check, but he knew he must have been horridly swollen, his bladder physically COULDN’T fit in his body for much longer. He was exploding, completely exploding. He only maintained his posture for a second before he was doubling back over again.
“What is the MATTER with—“
“I have to go to the restroom!” Ethan cried. “Ohhh… I need to now!” He knew he sounded pathetic. He knew he sounded unprofessional. He knew Haskins was going to respect him even LESS after this. And he didn’t care! None of that mattered anymore! Only pissing mattered! “Please, please! Please, let me go! Please!” He was babbling, barely aware of what he was saying anymore, barely aware of if Haskins had responded. “Please! I can’t— Please!”
“ETHAN,” Haskins snapped, voice raised louder than it had been all day.
Startled, Ethan’s bladder spilled once more, finally enough that a dark spot formed over his crotch and began to trickle down one of his pant-legs. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
“How old ARE you?” Haskins asked. “You are an adult— With a JOB. You know what adults with JOBS do when they need to use the toilet? They say ‘Hang on everyone, I need a bathroom break’, and they just GO. I know you saw one of your coworkers do EXACTLY that earlier, but no. You decided, instead, to do whatever you call THIS.”
Ethan was suddenly VERY glad that his bladder was too full for him to budge his hands out from between his legs. He was suddenly VERY glad that he was too desperate to draw his knees away from each other. He didn’t even want to know what he’d do to Haskins if only he was able to move all of his body parts around freely.
He had never, EVER felt the things he was feeling now before. It wasn’t like Ethan couldn’t GET angry— Just last night, he’d gotten EXTREMELY frustrated with his printer for refusing to print a black-and-white document because it was out of magenta. He’d grumbled curse words at it and slapped it a few times. He’d GOTTEN mad. But, this? THIS was a level beyond ‘mad’, this was a fury that caused a real, burning pain to bubble up in his chest, and he had NEVER felt that way before in his life.
If he hadn’t been basically immobilized by a roaring need to piss, he thought that fury may lead him somewhere terrible. As it was, all he could do was grit out between angry, gnashing teeth; “I tried. For hours. To tell you that I had to go.”
Haskins shrugged. “I never heard anything like that. The whole time, you were just sitting there, only trying to interrupt when we were in the middle of things that don’t concern you.”
“I even raised my hand, like a school boy.”
“Didn’t see that.”
“You asked me why my hand was up.”
“I don’t remember doing that,” Haskins said. “Are you sure?”
‘You know, it’s kind of stupid to try to gaslight someone with a psych degree…’ Ethan thought, folding over even further on himself. He couldn’t even tell if he was leaking anymore. He wasn’t sure if the wetness he felt in his clutched palms was NEW urine, OLD urine, or just sweat. Probably a combination of all three. ‘I can see exactly what you are doing.’
“Look, Ethan. All of this today has been deeply unprofessional. The rudeness with the interruptions, not excusing yourself to the restroom, this whole… Dance you’re doing now. If it wasn’t for the regulation that I HAVE to keep you here, I’d be sending you out the door right now. Do you have ANYTHING to say for yourself?”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan recited, the words he THOUGHT would get him to a bathroom the fastest. Continuing to argue would just keep him here longer, and Haskins wasn’t going to budge, he was going to continue living in his alternate reality where Ethan was an incompetent idiot who’d held his piss for no reason and totally HADN’T been begging for a break all fucking morning.
Ethan didn’t care if Haskins fired him. In fact, if he did, maybe he’d go get a lawyer. Ms. Wilson had been a witness to everything, and he had a feeling that she’d back him up, she and Ethan would tell everyone that Haskins had fired a guy for needing to go to the bathroom, and Ethan would probably own the entire school afterwards.
“Don’t let it happen again,” Haskins said. “And be BACK here at one. Don’t make me wait.”
Ethan nodded, resuming his panicked, shuffling walk out of the library. It seemed that his rage against Haskins was giving him a nice shot of adrenaline, which was making him SOMEWHAT more capable of reaching the restroom. He hobbled into the hallway, and the instant he spotted the sign for a men’s room, his bladder seemed to think ‘Okay, good enough’, because piss immediately began to pulse into his boxers.
Horrified that he was losing it when he was so close to relief, Ethan broke into a sprint that made his sides scream in pain. He shoved open the door to the restroom, yanking his zipper down already. As the door swung closed behind him, he took his damp member into his trembling hands. A long gush of pee erupted from its tip, splattering the blue tiled floor.
For a terrible second, he was unable to actually LOCATE the urinals. He’d never used this restroom before, always going to the one closest to his own office. The layout here was different, and Ethan was so far gone that it took him a moment to see where everything actually was, a choppy stream still occasionally ejecting onto the ground.
He finally DID spot the row of urinals and, the next thing he knew, he was in front of one. His piss kept spurting out in half-second long bursts, his body struggling to catch up with his surroundings, struggling to register that YES, he was FINALLY at a toilet and it was okay to go!
And then, he was letting out an absolute waterfall of a stream, blasting out of him with the force of at least ten fire-hoses. His knees wobbled and bowed inwards, and he had to use one hand to prop himself up against the wall. His spray was so intense that it seemed to echo. For the first several seconds, his bladder still throbbed as if it were fighting to hold back, even though he was already peeing harder than he ever had before.
But then, something inside of him seemed to shatter and unwind at lightning speed, and he suddenly felt better than he’d thought humanly possible. He didn’t feel relieved, he felt something that went far, FAR beyond that. He… Honestly, he felt like he was having an orgasm. The longest, most intense orgasm anyone had ever had. The moan that fell from his lips was identical the one he’d let out the previous night, when he’d allowed his hands to rove all over himself. “Ohhhhhhhhh….” That sound echoed too, and he was glad he was alone in the room.
How… How could it feel THIS good…? He’d been pissing for at least half a minute now, and his stream showed no signs of nearing its end. He didn’t WANT it to end, he wanted to feel this way forever. He wanted every second to be filled with this mind-numbing, euphoric pleasure. His chest was heaving with heavy sighs, his skin tingling all over, hairs standing on end, and he just could not stop peeing.
He passed the one minute mark, the furious rush continuing to melt his brain with ecstasy. A minute and a half, and his limbs felt like they were made of gelatin. Two minutes, and at last his release started to slow down, dwindling to a trickle and slowly coming to a stop after a few more seconds. “Ohhh… Oh my Goddd…” Ethan breathed out, trembling where he stood. He was scared to move, afraid that MORE was still backed up inside his bladder. He looked down and saw a few stray drops were still plinking from the tip of his…
His…
Why in God’s name—
Ethan was hard. Like, rock-solid. And he had no fucking idea why. He hadn’t been thinking about anything sexual, the last two and a half minutes he basically hadn’t been thinking of ANYTHING aside from ‘Ahhhhhh…. Yessss… It feels soooo gooood to peeeeee…’ But, now he was stiff, and had a real urge to start stroking himself for some reason.
He supposed that, given how raw and sensitive his desperation had made him, and the fact that a lot of the pleasurable feelings associated with finally urinating HAD taken place in his cock, he’d just had some sort of… involuntary physiological response to all the rapidly changing stimuli. Yes. That was all. He hadn’t actually just gotten turned on by taking a badly needed pee. It had just made him feel a little too good for a second. Nothing more than that.
He didn’t dare leave the restroom this way, though. And he was not going to… ‘tend’ to his problem HERE, no way in Hell. Instead, he locked himself into a stall and sat there, waiting for the issue to go away on its own. It took a LOT longer than he’d expected for his member to go soft again, but once it had, he left the stall.
Now that he was no longer erect, he inspected his pants a little more. There was a tell-tale dark patch over his crotch, running down along the seam of his pant-leg. It was clear that he’d had a bit of an accident, and he dabbed at the damp spots with paper towels until they were at least a little less obvious.
Then, feeling twenty pounds lighter, he headed back towards the library.
Haskins pretty much ignored Ethan the rest of the day, not even looking at him. Ethan figured the man must have thought he’d tortured him enough for one day and was going to leave him alone now.
The next day, Ethan’s middle felt so sore that he was forced to bring a heating pad and a bottle of pain killers with him to school. If any of the students asked him about it, he said that he’d just worn something out the previous day. He was amazed that it wasn’t hurting him to urinate, he’d been scared that the incident would have given him an infection.
The awful restroom pass policy did end up going into affect, and Ethan was the one left to pick up the pieces after one unfortunate boy had an accident when he ran out of passes. The student was really shaken up, humiliated, and no longer wanted to attend class with everyone that had seen him lose control. “I’m t—too old to… Pee myself…” he said. “Ev—Everyone’s gonna make fun of me.”
Ethan talked to him a lot about self-confidence, about pretending like HE wasn’t ashamed of the accident until others stopped trying to MAKE him feel that way. Since the cause of this problem was the bad school policy, Ethan WISHED he could do something about that, but his hands were tied. He admitted to the boy that he hated the policy, though, and it seemed to make him feel better to know that an adult was on his side.
“But… You know, accidents do happen,” Ethan said. “Sometimes. Even when you’re older.”
“They shouldn’t.”
“Things don’t always work out the way we want,” Ethan told him. “You did everything you could to make it to the toilet in time. You tried to go during your passing period when the line was too long, you kept asking permission to leave the room without a pass… Those were things outside your control.” What he really WANTED to do was tell the kid that he should just get up and LEAVE the classroom when he was having a real emergency. Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to encourage the kids to break the rules, even the ones he thought were idiotic. “Y—You know something? I’m an adult, and last month, I sort of had an accident, too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. Like you, I wasn’t allowed to leave a room and I just really needed to go. Bodies have limits. It’s embarrassing, but it happens sometimes. I’m sure the people who are REALLY your friends won’t make fun of you— That’s one way you can look at this, you’re going to see who your TRUE friends are.” He always tried to find a bright spot in all of the students’ situations, but he couldn’t lie to them, either. He knew this boy was going to be teased now, kids being what they were. This was still going to give him an opportunity to see who he could really count on, and that was something some people didn’t learn until they were much older.
“I— I hope my friends are all nice about it,” the boy said.
“I hope so too,” Ethan said. “If anyone gives you too much trouble, come back to see me. I don’t tolerate bullying.”
“O—Okay,” the boy said.
The next time Ethan saw him, he was doing better. He told Ethan that his best friends had both told him that it was okay, and hadn’t teased him over wetting his pants. Ethan was happy for him, and praised him for finding such good friends.
***
“Wow, you told that kid that you peed your pants some just so he’d feel better?” James asked. “That’s so nice!”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “He was really hung up on being ‘too old’ to have an accident, and that was the only thing I could think of to tell him.”
James cuddled him closer. “Eheh, and I guess NOW you know why your thing got hard, right?”
“Yeah,” Ethan blushed. “I get it now.”
James smiled. “Sorry that your boss was such a jerk. I like to make you get all cute and squirmy, but I wouldn’t make you keep waiting if it was making you cry!”
“Yeah, he was a real piece of work,” Ethan said. “I’m glad he’s not in charge of that school anymore…” He wriggled against James, whose arms were pinning him place.
“Oh, am I squeezing too hard?”
“K—Kind of… Uh, telling that story made me seriously have to go,” Ethan admitted. “Could you let me up?” |
Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "While ice skating."
***
“Ethan, Ethan!” James exclaimed, running into the kitchen and waving a sheet of paper around. “Look! We should enter this, it will be so much fun!”
Ethan turned around to face his partner. He’d sent James out to get the mail and, as had happened before, a piece of junk advertising had caught his attention more than anything that was actually important. He shook his head fondly and asked James what had gotten him so excited.
“‘Pairs Figure Skating Competition’,” James read off the flier. “And, it’s happening tonight! Pleaaaase can we do it? It will be fun, I promise! We can wear costumes, and we might even win once they see how cute you are, and—“
“James,” Ethan interrupted. “I— I’m sorry, but there’s kind of a problem with that idea.”
“Awwww, what?”
“I have literally zero idea how to ice skate,” Ethan stated. “I’ve never done it before in my life. There’s no way I’ll be able to get good at it by tonight.”
“Ohhhh,” James said, remembering now that he’d never actually SEEN Ethan skate, not that they’d ever gone to an ice rink, anyway. “Well, that’s okay. I bet they do this contest every year, so I can just start TEACHING you today.”
“James, I’m… REALLY not very athletic,” Ethan said. “I don’t think I’m gonna be any good at this.”
“That’s okay,” James said. “You don’t have to be great at it, I just want to try it with you.” He smiled so sincerely, and suddenly Ethan couldn’t protest the idea anymore.
***
James stepped out onto the ice as he held both of Ethan’s hands. “Alright, we are going to do this real slow. First, you should practice falling!”
“What? Why would I TRY to—Ah—!” Ethan immediately lost his footing and slipped to the hard ice as soon as his skates had touched the slippery surface.
James knelt down and helped him back up. “You need to practice, ‘cause then you’ll know how to land without getting hurt real bad,” he explained.
Ethan fell into him, holding himself up by wrapping his arms around James. “O—Okay, I’m okay…”
“Good,” James said. “But, anyways, if you feel like you’re gonna fall, then you should bend your knees and let yourself fall forward onto your hands and knees.”
James had Ethan do this a few times— Which was an easy feat since Ethan seemed unable to do anything BUT fall. One of the times he landed, Ethan felt a pang in his abdomen as his body lurched to the ice, and wondered if it might have been a good idea to use the restroom before doing this.
It wasn’t like he needed to go that badly, he’d only JUST noticed that he had to pee at all! There was no reason to stop the lesson now, when he knew he’d probably just let out a little trickle.
“Okay,” James said, taking Ethan’s hand once more and guiding it to the rail encircling the rink. “Now, just try to move real slow while you hold onto the side like this. I’ll stay right next to you— Have you ever tried roller blades before? It’s kind of the same motions…”
“I— I had some of the ones they make for kids, I think… When I was really little,” Ethan said. “Those felt a lot more stable, basically just shoes you have to push along. I never had the kind where the wheels are all in a straight line down the middle.”
“Alright, so you had roller SKATES, then. Those are different, and—“
“They ARE?” Ethan asked. “I never knew how anyone balanced on the other kind… And I don’t know how to balance with THESE on, either. I have no idea where to shift my weight, or— Whatever… If I let go of the rail right now, I’m gonna fall again.” Speaking of shifting his balance, his bladder was buzzing away and telling him to start doing exactly that. He didn’t DARE try to sway between his feet or jiggle his heels right now, though. His feet felt FINE and like they weren’t going to come out from underneath him, just so long as he didn’t move them at all!
“Well…” James frowned, this was going to be trickier than he’d thought. Ethan didn’t have any comparable experiences to build off of. “So, you need to keep your knees relaxed, and turn your feet outwards a little, like this,” James nudged Ethan’s legs until he was standing correctly. Ethan’s fingers curled themselves even tighter around the rail. He felt so unsteady, like a newborn foal. And, it wasn’t that easy to ‘keep his knees relaxed’ when he was so worried about falling over, and starting to SERIOUSLY think it would have been a good idea to use the bathroom before starting with this!
It was like all the anxiety he had about learning to skate was somehow converting itself into a liquid, and all of that liquid was being pumped into his bladder faster than he was able to react to it. At most, it had been ten minutes since the first twinges in his abdomen had become apparent, and it already felt so much worse. Instead of a buzzing tingle, it was a sharp, pulsating throb of tension.
Once James had finished with this part of the lesson, Ethan would tell him he needed a pee break. Getting desperate out on the ice rink wouldn’t just be embarrassing, it would be downright dangerous. He was still able to resist the urging from within to fidget, but each pang became harder to ignore and his muscles ached with the desire to squirm away from the pressure. If he STOPPED being able to maintain his composure, he could easily injure himself with an involuntary leg cross or foot bounce.
As soon as James was done here, Ethan would ask to go. He would not allow himself to get to the bursting point here. God, what if he broke his leg because he’d been unable to stop himself from pee dancing on the ice? He could already picture it! He’d fall over, hear an awful snap, and be unable to get back up again. If the pain and fright of that moment didn’t make him wet his pants, he’d have to keep laying there until the EMTs arrived. And, once they started helping him, he’d be SO desperate that he’d HAVE to say something, beg for one of those urine bottle thingies hospitals had, and USE it right where he was. They’d SEE how full he’d been when he filled the bottle, and be able to work out WHY he’d hurt his leg so badly, and he’d be humiliated. And, then he’d have to pay an enormous bill for the medical treatment, all because he hadn’t emptied his bladder when he should have!
Well. That was the worst case scenario, anyway. It was one he wanted to AVOID, that was for sure.
James, of course, had no idea about the catastrophe his boyfriend was imagining. “Now, you’re gonna want to put all your weight onto the foot you’re pushing off with, then as you go forward, you’re gonna move your weight onto the other foot. Then you bring them together, and do it again, shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. Kinda like when you’re all squirmy from needing to pee!”
Ethan’s thighs went tense at the mention of peeing, and his face went red at the volume of James’s voice. There weren’t many people here, certainly no one in ear-shot, but still! “James… Is that REALLY the best way that you could think of to explain it?”
“Well, yeah,” James said. “You’ve never done any kind of real skating before, so I had to relate it to something you HAVE done lots of times!”
“O—Okay….” Ethan said. Maybe this was a good thing? If he was supposed to shift around like that, maybe it would help him hold it?
It didn’t help him hold it. He had to spread his legs WAY far apart from one another, much too far for his bladder’s liking. All the strength it took to propel himself forwards took a lot of crucial energy away from his holding muscles, and his urine felt like it was being held in just as precariously as his feet were balancing.
He kept squeezing the rail, wishing that he could squeeze his crotch instead. James was right beside him as promised, which made him feel safer, but he was dying to just tell him he had to go. His bladder was brimming, just a big heavy knot of need, and he couldn’t do ANYTHING to help it calm down unless he wanted to risk hurting himself.
He made it to the end of the rink, and realized he didn’t actually know how to turn. Or stop. He could remember how he always stopped on the roller skates when he was a kid— Just leaning forward onto the little bumper on the toe. These skates didn’t have a bumper, he didn’t think… he tried this anyway, and a second later he was sprawled out on the ice, his hands stinging and his knees aching from the impact.
But, that was nothing compared to what it had done to his bladder. The full organ felt like it had been tossed in circles, around and around the too small confines of his body, colliding against the walls with painful slamming lurches. A bright, white hot bolt of need shot through him and he became momentarily overwhelmed with the desire to just let it all out to make all the awful pressure stop. He barely had a second to process the true extent of his agony before he was suddenly peeing, a forceful jet hissing into his pants that took three seconds of frantically squeezing his dick to clamp off.
Ah, this was bad. This was really, really bad… He needed a urinal in front of him NOW.
James was beside him, “Ohhh, Ethan! I’m so sorry! I should have said how to stop! I forgot, I’m really sorry! I’m—“
“I—It’s okay…” Ethan managed to grunt out. He didn’t feel any actual pain from his fall anymore. All he felt were the horrific affects it had had upon his bladder. His opening kept trembling, his holding muscles fluttering and failing to stop another drop from warming his boxers. He kept thinking that, once the impact of the fall had finished radiating through his body, he’d be able to MANAGE himself again, but the blow had apparently been way too much all at once. His bladder REFUSED to settle down and he felt threateningly close to exploding right where he was.
If he totally drenched himself now, would it melt the ice below him…? He didn’t THINK it would work that way, but the material of his pants felt so warm now that it wouldn’t surprise him. He needed to get OFF the ice as fast as he could, he wasn’t going to be able to hold his pee much longer, he was just BARELY holding it now. He could feel more heat collecting at his tip, rushing down his length. He felt his stream pressing right up against his floodgates. He just HAD to get to a bathroom before it managed to squeeze itself out the rest of the way.
“Ethan…” James said, bending down now. “Are you really hurt? Do you need help standing up… It’s okay, I’ll— I’ll get you an ice pack, and you can sit down. Or— Or we could go home, and—“
“H—Help me up…” Ethan said, voice wobbling. “I— I need to—“
“You need to sit down somewhere,” James finished.
Ethan didn’t need to sit down, unless it was on a toilet seat… “I—“
“Okay, here…” James took Ethan’s hands in his own, slowly helped him to his feet.
Not slowly enough. Ethan’s bladder surged, cramping hard and pee ejected itself into his clothes so quickly that he could hear it hissing. Instinctively, his brain not even processing it, not even acknowledging it, not even reminding him that it was a bad idea, Ethan’s legs crossed together. The sharp blade of one of the skates cut into his ankle, and his balance went totally haywire, causing him to crash hard into James whom was barely able to catch him and keep him upright. THAT impact was enough to draw out another spurt, and then the pain of the slice in his ankle hit him and he was whimpering.
“E—Ethan!” James said, panicked as he rubbed Ethan’s back. “Are you alright? Do I need to— Where does it hurt? Tell me?”
“M—My bladder…” Ethan mumbled miserably into James’s shoulder, clinging to him.
“Huh?” James asked. “I… I didn’t—“
“My bladder hurts,” Ethan repeated. “James, I need to pee so bad…”
“O—Oh!” James said. “You didn’t twist your ankle, or—“
“I d—don’t think so,” Ethan said. “I just— Please, I really have to use the restroom…”
James continued stroking his back. “Okay, okay… Let’s get you to the toilet, then. Just have to…” He turned, seeing how far they now were from the rink’s exit.
Ethan was… Not good at skating. It was his first try, and it was understandable that he was struggling so much. But, Ethan being both a total beginner at this sport AND on the verge of wetting his pants meant that it would be no easy task getting him off the ice now. “H—Hold onto me,” he said. “Keep holding onto me, I’ll try and get you out of here as fast as I can, I promise.”
Ethan’s grip on James tightened, “H—Hurry…” he begged.
James started to move across the ice, pushing Ethan along. Ethan was trembling in his arms, his entire body shaking. James could tell how much of a strain it was for him not to writhe. One of the hands Ethan had on his shoulder kept twitching, seemingly torn between clinging more firmly to James and reaching down to squeeze on his dick.
Ethan finally had to hold himself when he felt more heat leaking out his tip. He felt less steady now, but his hand was the only thing plugging his bladder shut, the only thing making it so he could hang on until they were off the ice.
They made it to the exit and Ethan had to hold Ethan tightly to keep him from getting too eager and running off. He still had the skates on, after all. “Easy… Easy now…” James said. “Step off…” Ethan did, now struggling to stay balanced on regular ground. His knees shuddered, and he gripped James’s arm with one hand while the other clamped onto his cock.
“Just get the skates off now…” James encouraged.
Ethan started to kneel to do exactly that, but immediately his bladder was being squished and crushed with a fervor that brought tears to his eyes. “James—“
James knew the problem immediately. “Okay, okay… Few more steps.” He helped Ethan maneuver a couple feet over to a chair, which he collapsed into. Finally more free to squirm, Ethan was doubling over and squeezing his crotch with both hands. His knees jiggled up and down and he fought not to let his legs cross again while the sharp blades were still attached to his feet.
James started to unlace Ethan’s skates at lightning speed, but even with as quickly as he was moving, Ethan was huffing out pleas of “Hurry, hurry… Please hurry up…” The begging was absolutely adorable, the panicked rushes of need that James loved being able to draw from his boyfriend’s lips when they were at home. But, out here in public, where Ethan would humiliate himself if his bladder became too much to handle, those fuzzy feelings weren’t filling James’s chest. He just wanted to get Ethan all taken care of, wanted to make sure he made it to a toilet before he completely lost control.
One skate removed, James moved onto the other one. Ethan was babbling out some barely coherent notion that he could “probably” hop on one foot over to the restroom now. James told him he’d fallen over ENOUGH for one day and that he’d be free to go in just a second. He pried the skate off of Ethan’s foot and Ethan shot straight up, both hands still clasped in front of himself as he bounced up and down.
“Your normal shoes are back over—“
Ethan was already rushing off in a stiff-legged, panicked hobble. But, he wasn’t heading towards the lockers where they’d left their shoes. Instead, he was going straight for the sign directing him to the restrooms. He was aware that he was about to run into a public bathroom in just his socks, and he knew that would probably be one of the least sanitary things he’d ever done, but he did NOT have the time to get his shoes. It was a choice between risking stepping his socks into someone else’s piss, or risking wetting his own pants while in public. He knew which choice he liked better.
He heard soft foot steps behind him and saw James was following him… Also in his socks… Though, he knew James wasn’t in any hurry to relieve himself at the moment.
James DIDN’T have to pee, but the second he’d realized Ethan was so desperate to go that he was gonna do it without putting any shoes on, he’d known that he absolutely HAD to accompany him and see for himself what had been causing his partner so much discomfort.
Ethan shoved open the men’s room door and stepped inside. Immediately, he felt the stickiness of the floor and was filled with a sense of revulsion. “Ahhhnn…” he muttered, scrunching his eyes shut as he moved further into the restroom. “Gross, gross, gross, gross…” he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the texture of the ground below him. He just… He had to go. At least his feet weren’t BARE. He could get rid of the socks. He could freaking BURN them as soon as they got home, they didn’t matter. Peeing was all that mattered, fuck he had to pee…
He got to a urinal, the floor now feeling even more disgusting. He could sense his socks sticking to the tiles and, while urinals always smelled a bit like piss, the scent seemed stronger to him now. He saw James take the urinal next to his, and tried again to forget how utterly grossed out he was as he unzipped his pants and took aim.
Surprisingly, it actually took him a second to get over his nausea enough to start urinating. But, when he did, it came in a hard, pouring wave that got him moaning. The change in pressure beneath his navel was immediate, going from taut and agonizing to light and orgasmic as he finally let go.
James released his own bladder, but paid little mind to his aim as he instead chose to watch Ethan’s tip erupt with a furiously hissing stream. Ethan’s release was so powerful that James swore it must have been echoing. “Awww,” he said. “You really DID have to go!”
Ethan blushed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He loved when James made little comments like that after he’d just barely made it and, sometimes he even did that when they were in a public bathroom. It was a little embarrassing when it happened outside of their house, and Ethan was sure James only did it to see him turn red. “Eheh, yeah…” He decided to give James a little tease, too. “I feel sooo much better now, ahhhh….” He moaned and gave an exaggerated shiver of pleasure.
Now it was James’s turn to blush. His own pee was already over, but he didn’t seem to have noticed. He kept standing there at the urinal, his pants still unzipped, as he watched Ethan continue to let it flow. “You did good at skating for your first time,” James said.
Ethan’s blush deepened, and he pushed to try to speed up his stream, wondering when he was ever gonna finish. “Uh… I did?”
“Yeah,” James said. “It was only your first time, and you did it while you had to pee SOOO bad! That’s super impressive!”
Ethan felt the last of his urine seep out, and started to zip himself up. He buttoned his pants and turned away from the urinal. “Um… Yeah, I…. I needed that…” he said.
“You said you’re not athletic,” James told him as they washed their hands. “But, you MUST be if you were able to skate at ALL when you had all that stuck inside your bladder.” He hugged Ethan, and started to rub his back again. “You’re a strong guy… You’re a good, strong boy…”
“James… You know what’s gonna happen if you keep—“
“I don’t know,” James said. “What’s gonna happen if I keep telling you you’re a good boy? Something exciting?”
“A—At least wait until we’re back in the car,” Ethan rushed out. “Okay? Just— Let’s go get our shoes and go to the car, and… You can say whatever you want to me once we’re there.”
James kissed him. “Sounds fun…” |
Written for the 12 Days of Omo prompt "While putting up lights."
***
James was going to have such an awesome surprise for Ethan once he came home! Just last night, Ethan had been talking about how much he loved Christmas decorations, how much he enjoyed big light displays, how he’d never been able to make one of his own because every time he tried, he got so scared up on the roof that he just gave up…
But, James didn’t get scared of heights at all, so he was going to put up ALL sorts of fun lights, and when Ethan came home from the store and saw them, he’d be so happy, and James could see him smile, and his chest would feel so warm and fuzzy…
Things had gone wrong, though. He’d gotten all the lights where they were supposed to go so far, and they all worked. The display was coming out exactly as he had been picturing it. But, he had still made a couple very crucial mistakes.
First, he’d decided that it would be a good idea to drink a big mug of eggnog to get into the holiday spirit. Then, he’d been SO excited to start working on the lights for Ethan, that he’d skipped using the bathroom before coming out here. THEN he’d managed to drop his house keys somewhere out here, had NO idea where they were, and couldn’t get back inside without them.
Thanks to his PREVIOUS two mistakes, James SERIOUSLY needed to get back inside! It had been a couple hours since his last toilet break, already pushing the limit of what his little bladder could manage. He’d searched all over the ground and the roof for his keys, but they couldn’t be found anywhere! It had been steadily snowing ever since he’d left the house, and he could only assume that they must have gotten BURIED somewhere. With no clue of where to start digging, James was just stuck out here, his bladder brimming, unable to relieve himself until Ethan got home and opened the door.
James bounced in place from his spot on top of the roof. It had gotten harder to set up the lights, untangling all the strings took focus, and he couldn’t concentrate when all he wanted to do was pee. He kept thinking about climbing back down the ladder and writing his name in the snow. He had to go so badly that he thought he might have enough urine in him to write his FULL name before he ran out.
He knew that was the best thing for him to do now. It was okay to pee outside if it was an emergency. He was locked out of his house, he was desperate, he didn’t have much choice! The only real problem was that he didn’t have anything to hide behind as he went. All the leaves were gone from the bushes, and the fence was wire and easy to see through. If he peed and someone saw, could he get in trouble for it? Even though he was doing it on his own property? He’d still be exposing himself…
He decided to TRY to hold it, just in case someone WOULD get mad at him for peeing in his yard. If it got bad enough, he’d go down there and hope for the best. But, he could still wait a while longer, he could maybe make it until Ethan got home…
When Ethan got home… James tried to focus only on that. When Ethan got home and saw all the lights, the big inflatable reindeer he’d set up on the roof, all the snowflakes hanging off the edges… Ethan would LOVE it all so much, and THAT was way more important than James’s bladder maybe being a little full.
Ohhh, but it was a LOT full, stuffed to the brim with egg nog, bemoaning James for skipping his last bathroom break. It seemed as though his body wanted to PUNISH him for his negligence, for putting his excitement over its needs. His abdomen was pinching mercilessly, awful throbs ricocheting through his body as he sat there and tried to untangle another string of lights. He’d thought that having a task to focus on would HELP with his situation, he’d thought it would distract him from wanting to go, but it was so much more of a hindrance.
With his hands busy, he couldn’t hold himself like he wanted to. He kept reaching down for quick, firm squeezes that never lasted longer than a second, and they weren’t enough to satiate his need. They weren’t enough to quell the raging fires in his midsection that demanded he grab his crotch and never let go again.
It was also hard to FOCUS on getting the string apart when the only thoughts in his head were all related to urinating. ‘Ohhh, I need to go pee! I wanna go inside and pee! I wanna tinkle now!’ He kept accidentally re-tangling parts of the cord he’d already un-knotted, and eventually his chest was getting warm in a way that WASN’T pleasant and he shoved the cords to the side, breathing heavily.
He tried to calm back down. He tried to remember the last time he’d gotten so frustrated… Anger was hard to come by for James, even times when he knew he SHOULD have felt angry, he was always quick to forgive instead. The war being waged inside his body as he was forced to continually ignore the call of nature didn’t allow him much space for forgiveness.
He forgot about the lights for a second, just doubled over on himself and held his crotch as tightly as he could. His legs twisted together, coiling around one another. Whyyyyy did he have to lose his keys?! If he could just find them again, none of this would be happening! He would have peed ages ago, and he’d be feeling perfectly fine!
He couldn’t take it any longer! His bladder was simply too full to bear, and he had to do SOMETHING about it. He still didn’t think it would be a good idea to relieve his burden outside where someone could see, but perhaps he could find another place to do it.
He had to get down from the roof FIRST, though. Grimacing, he braced himself for what was sure to be a VERY uncomfortable climb back down the ladder. He slowly inched his way to the edge of the roof, hands still wrapped around his length. He squeezed himself extra tight for a moment, not wanting to let go, but knowing he was going to have to. He lowered himself onto one of the rungs, and forced his hands away from his dick so that he could grip the ladder instead. Immediately, his bladder was pounding, liquid sloshing at his now unprotected gate.
He whimpered as he slowly made his way down. His heart slammed around in his chest, adrenaline begging him to move faster, but he felt like he was balancing an overflowing jug of water on his head as he climbed. Moving too quickly, moving just slightly in the wrong direction, would make him spill it all over himself.
Once on the ground, his hands instantly flew back down between his legs and he doubled over, stomping his feet into the snow. Ohhh, he just wanted to do it right where he was! He looked around, and didn’t see anybody out here that could spot him. He couldn’t get in trouble if no one was around to watch!
One hand moved flinchingly out from the crease of his thighs, taking hold of his zipper. He peeled it down as quickly as he could, bladder cramping with harsh anticipation, a little squirt already flowing into his boxers faster than he could free his dick from them.
He reached for it, but before his hand made it inside his boxers, a voice forced him to stop. His bladder took an extra second to catch up to him, releasing a few more threatening dribbles to warm up the material encasing his crotch. He turned around, trying to smile at the person whom had stolen his relief away at the last second. “H—Hello, Linda…” he said.
Linda was the lady who lived next door to James and Ethan with her family. James liked Linda, and he liked her two children Wayne and Grant, but he and Ethan DIDN’T get along very well with her husband Gary, whom was one of the members of the homeowner’s association. Gary was always getting after them for their grass getting too tall, or their lawn ornaments ruining the ‘uniformity’ of the neighborhood. One time, they had overheard Gary talking to one of his friends about how ‘people who are like that’ didn’t belong in the neighborhood.
James had been convinced Gary had only meant ‘people who like silly lawn art’, but Ethan hadn’t agreed with him. “There's a reason he doesn’t like us, and he STILL wouldn’t like us even if we got rid of ALL of the decorations.” James knew what Ethan was implying, but he wanted to give Gary the benefit of the doubt— Mostly because Linda was so nice to them, so he couldn’t believe her husband would REALLY be so awful.
James was thankful that it had been JUST Linda who had nearly caught him pissing in his front yard. Gary would have probably GUESSED what he’d been up to and read him the riot act. Still, he wished that NOBODY had stumbled upon him just now, his bladder had been so certain that it was about to be drained, having to clamp back up right away like that had hurt terribly. His abdominal muscles were still twitching, trying to endure the strain.
Linda looked up at the roof. “Wow, you’re doing a lot of decorating,” she said.
James’s smile became more genuine. “Uh-huh, Ethan loves Christmas lights, so I’m gonna surprise him!” The bubbles of excitement built in his chest for a few seconds, but then they seemed to just plummet heavily down onto his bladder. He crossed his legs and hoped it looked like he was just fighting off a chill.
“Do you want some help?” Linda asked.
It was a nice offer, but James needed privacy now more than anything. “N—Not today,” he said. “I— I’ve almost f—finished it.” Tremors wracked through his body, making it difficult to speak.
“Oh, you’re freezing,” Linda commented, no doubt mistaking his desperate stammering for his teeth chattering in the frigid air. “How long have you been out here?”
‘Too long,’ James thought. His bladder throbbed its agreement, and he quickly crossed his legs around in the other direction. “Um, a while,” he said.
“And you’ve only got a sweater on,” Linda added. “Do you have anything warm to drink inside?”
James shook his head. He and Ethan DID have warm drinks, but James couldn’t GET inside to grab any— Not that his body wanted more fluid now, anyway.
“That’s alright,” Linda said. “Just come next door, I’ll get you some hot chocolate.”
James nodded. Of course, she’d let him use the restroom while he was there, it only made sense. Even if she didn’t offer it to him, he only had to ask. His desperation would be resolved in just a few minutes. “O—Okay,” he said. “Thank you!”
It wasn’t that easy. As soon as James had entered Linda’s house, both her kids had run up to him, waving excited hellos. This was fine, but it did make it a little harder to walk since they were always underfoot.
“Boys,” Linda said. “Let Mr. Willow through.”
James didn’t correct her, didn’t tell her that he and Ethan weren’t actually married yet. ‘We really should get around to that, anyway…’ he thought. He wanted to ask for the toilet immediately, but was fearful of seeming rude— And he didn’t particularly WANT Linda and her kids to know that he was having an emergency. They’d be able to tell if he said he had to go right away. He could wait a few more minutes, until it felt more natural to ask.
When Linda had gotten him to the kitchen, something happened that told him he might be waiting a while. Gary was already at the table, sipping from a mug. And, he didn’t look happy to see James… “Linda, please don’t invite people in without asking me first.”
“He’s only going to have a quick drink,” Linda said. “And, you didn’t say one word when Ashley was here earlier.”
“That’s different,” Gary said, like it should have been obvious.
James stood awkwardly in the entrance. He felt funny now, there was pressure coming from places that WEREN’T his bladder. James knew Ashley, and she had funny lawn ornaments, too. Sometimes, her grass got tall… The very things Gary was always complaining to Ethan and James about. But, having her around was still ‘different’ for some reason, he was apparently still willing to welcome her…
Linda didn’t say anything in response to Gary’s remark, and the kitchen became suddenly very quiet. So quiet James thought he could hear the liquid swishing around in his bladder. Gary was looking at him, and he badly wanted to hold himself again. It was so hard to resist the urge, the tension in his core like a siren, trying to coax his hand over to his groin for a squeeze. He had a feeling that if he clutched at himself in front of Gary, something bad would happen. He just wasn’t sure what.
“I— I was putting up Christmas lights,” he said, his knees turning in towards one another. “Linda thought I looked cold. That’s all…” He didn’t understand why he felt so much urgency to justify his presence in a place where he’d been invited. His knees rubbed together.
Gary made a vague grunting sound and turned back to Linda. “What are you giving him?” He asked.
“Just some hot chocolate,” Linda said. “Don’t worry.” As she set to work preparing it, Gary looked at James again.
“Can you stop all that bouncing?” Gary asked. “I don’t want your shoes scuffing up my floor.”
James hadn’t noticed he’d begun to jiggle around, and now that he HAD he found that he didn’t know HOW to stop. He’d managed to still himself for a second, but then his bladder would be squeezing itself so brutally that he’d start moving again. Finally, he managed to quell it by crossing his legs and tensing his thighs. “S—Sorry…” he said.
“Right,” Gary said. He kept staring. “Aaand your fly’s undone,” he said. “Boyfriend never teach you how to dress yourself?”
James felt all his blood rush to his face as he scrambled for his zipper and yanked it back up. His bladder gave a very confused throb, his midsection aching with surges. His body was angry at him for not peeing in all the time he’d had his pants open, and the sound of the zipper moving was just oh so enticing to his sore holding muscles. “S—Sorry,” he said again. He didn’t understand why Gary had sounded MAD at him for accidentally forgetting his zip, and the comment he’d made about it had been really odd, too…
“You know, if you’re gonna invite yourself inside someone’s house, the least you could do is look decent,” Gary said.
“Gary,” Linda said sharply. “I invited him. He’s our neighbor. Please, James, sit down.”
James quickly did so, his waistband compressing into the taut, firm skin of his abdomen. It hurt, like he was being sliced into. It was bad enough that his expression twisted and a few more little drips came out. At least now, with the cover of the table, his hands were free to grip hold of his member and squeeze. This brought him some relief, but within seconds the urgency had built up to its full strength again. He had to ask for the toilet, at this rate, it was going to all come out and soak his chair and the floor. Gary would actually have a REASON to be angry if he did that!
“Linda, I—“
Linda set a large mug filled with steaming liquid in front of him. “Here you go, let’s get you warmed up.”
James stared at the enormous container of liquid he was now expected to pump into his body. The mug looked like it must have been twice the size of his entire bladder, and he was already SO full… He couldn’t fit all this in there! There wasn’t any room for it! Could he request the toilet now? RIGHT after he’d been served something? Probably not, right?
He could… He could finish it, then go. It wasn’t like the chocolate would go directly from his mouth to his bladder the instant he’d swallowed it. He’d have time while it processed, he’d have time before all this made it through him and caused him to overflow. He reached for the mug with one trembling hand, unwilling to completely let go of his crotch. His hand was the only thing keeping everything at bay.
James took a sip, swallowed it, and his bladder recoiled with a shudder as his clutching hand suddenly went warm. Just the KNOWLEDGE that he was putting more fluid into himself seemed to be enough to send his body into a frenzy. He shivered.
“As soon as you’re done with that, I need you to leave,” Gary said. “I have things I was going to work on today.”
“O—Okay,” James said.
“I’d suggest you finish it quickly,” Gary added.
“Gary, please…” Linda whispered.
But, James agreed with him on this. The sooner he got his mug drained, the sooner he could get his BLADDER drained. He raised it to his lips again, and tipped his head back so he could take long gulps. It sort of burned his throat going down, and he didn’t taste it at ALL, but he didn’t care. He was finally going to get to pee!
He set the mug down with a clink, which also set Gary off. “Easy, don’t scratch my table. There’s no way you could afford to replace it.”
James’s newly freed hand snapped back down to his crotch and he bucked his hips against it. ‘Just a few more seconds,’ he told himself. ‘Please, hold on…’ He gently let go of himself, then pushed back his chair and stood. He crumpled forwards when his bladder lurched. One foot lifted from the floor, his leg twisting. “Ummm… Could I please—“
“Don’t move your chair like that!” Gary interrupted in a huff. “I’m sure you can’t afford to replace all the floors in this house, either!”
“Gary!” Linda snapped. “He’s barely touched anything! I don’t understand why you were SO nice to Ashley this morning, and now—“
“Ashley didn’t try to scratch up our floor,” Gary said.
James was startled by all the raised voices, a surge of pee pulsing into his boxers, enough now that they felt sodden between his thighs. “I— M—May I please—“
“I have to get to work,” Gary interrupted, and his tone told James there was no more room for discussion.
Linda led him to the front door. He actually ALLOWED himself to squirm the whole way there, hitching his hips, tightening his thighs, shaking… He wanted Linda to NOTICE, to say “Oh, James, do you need to go to the bathroom?” To— To tell him he could use it now, but she didn’t. She just apologized to him; “I’m sorry if Gary made you uncomfortable. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, he must not have slept well last night or something. I promise to have a talk with him tonight.”
James didn’t care if Gary wanted to be a jerk. Gary could say every awful thing imaginable to him if he could just please, please go pee. He didn’t care about anything else, he just had to get all of this pee out of his body NOW… “Linda, I’m sorry, I—“
“It’s not your fault,” Linda interrupted. “I’m not sure WHAT causes these moods of his, but it’s nothing to do with you. I hope you have a good rest of your day, the lights you’ve been putting up really are nice.”
James nodded, understanding now that his hope for relief was gone. He left the house, immediately being hit in the face by a frigid gust of wind. It made him shiver, and that made his bladder contract, and that made him pee a little into his pants again. He just… He had to get back to his yard. Had to try to go THERE again. Nobody would interrupt him this time, right? It would— It would be okay. It HAD to be okay, he was gonna have an accident if it wasn’t— He was HAVING an accident now!
He hobbled to his yard as fast as he could, faced away from the street and tore his zipper back down— Why did Gary have to make him zip it up again? Undoing it a second time was costing him valuable seconds! His bladder kept screaming as he reached into his boxers, hand wrapping around his member and beginning to pull it ou—
“Oh, wow!” He heard another voice and wanted to start crying, he couldn’t take any more interruptions, he couldn’t… But, then he realized it was Ethan’s voice and he felt better immediately. Squeezing his hand around his urethral opening, he sprinted over to his partner as he exited the car.
“Ethan!” James gasped out. “Ethan! Ethan!” He was trying to say “Please unlock the door now, I’m peeing myself!” But was struggling to form any words that were more complex than his boyfriend’s name. “I— I—“
“You did all this!” Ethan finished for him, happily. He gestured to the roof, at all the lights dangling off it, at all the sparkling decorations. He pulled James into a hug, unknowingly strangling his full bladder. “I love it! I love you! This is amazing! Come on, help me with the groceries, and—“
“I dropped my keys, and now they’re buried under the snow, and I don’t know where, and I can’t get inside, and I need to tinkle right now!” James interrupted.
Ethan released him, James stumbled back, doubled over, held himself as tight as he could with both hands as he stomped his feet frantically. This still wasn’t enough to keep surges of damp heat from filling his palms.
“O—Oh!” Ethan said, hurriedly grabbing his own keys and helping James limp to the front door. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you… Poor thing! It’s alright, just a few more seconds!” He shoved the door open, but kept his arm around James’s shoulder, stabilizing him and assisting him the entire way to the restroom, all the while repeating to him that everything was going to be alright now.
James kept peeing the whole time they were walking. Every step drew out a new trickle, and he could feel the liquid rolling down his legs. He was scared it was ending up on the floor too. Fluid started to seep from the corners of his eyes as well, he needed to go so badly that it was hurting him. It was really, really hurting him. Just as he started to think that he should just pee his pants to make all the pain stop, he felt his clothing being moved around, his hands being gently nudged away from his crotch, and another warm hand taking hold of his dripping member.
“Shhh, shhh…” Ethan soothed. “Let it all go now, James… It’s alright…”
James’s eyes cracked open, and he saw Ethan was aiming his penis for the toilet bowl, little drops continually beading up at the tip and plinking into the water. As soon as the sight of it registered to James, he let himself relax fully and waves were pouring out of him, making him shudder in a much more pleasurable way. “Ahhhhh….” He moaned. “Mmmm, thank yooooouuuu….”
“Eheh,” Ethan smiled, carefully directing James’s stream for him. “No problem…” He reached his other hand curiously, hesitantly tapping his fingers very lightly over James’s lower abdomen, over his rapidly emptying bladder.
James was barely aware of what Ethan was doing, but whatever it was it felt incredible, the loosening knots inside his core were now accompanied by a ticklish flutter that made him groan with pleasure. “Hahhh, ohhhh…”
“Awww…” Ethan felt fluttery now too, happy that his experimental touches had been so well received. “Someone’s feeling good, isn’t he?”
“So… good…” James agreed. In spite of his desire to savor this release for as long as he possibly could, his muscles were instinctively pushing down, trying to force all the liquid from his system. The result was an ear splitting hiss that was just barely overpowered by all his panting gasps and moaning sighs.
His stream slowed down and then tapered off, a few stray droplets still seeping out every couple seconds. Ethan was still massaging his midsection, the soreness evaporating from all the gently touches. “All… All done…” he said.
Ethan shook him off and tucked him back into his pants. He even went so far as to zip them up for him as well before kissing his cheek. “All better…” he said. “Everything’s okay now.”
James felt the clammy dampness inside his boxers, and knew that not EVERYTHING was okay, but it ALMOST was. “Thank you…” he said again.
Ethan gave him another kiss. “Thank you,” he said. “Got to come home to TWO nice surprises— The lights, and somebody to help.”
“Well… That second thing wasn’t planned,” James said. “My keys are still missing.”
Ethan started to laugh, “Wouldn’t it have been funny if you’d peed in the snow, and just happened to melt the part where your keys got lost?”
James giggled, “Pfft, yeah! I kept wanting to go in the snow, but I was scared someone’d see, and then I got interrupted when I tried.”
“When I got home? You could have just gone then…”
“When you got home, and when Linda started talking to me— She had me over to drink hot chocolate, this whole big mug when I already had to pee so much! And, I kept trying to ask for the toilet, but Gary was there and he kept getting mad at me over NOTHING.”
Ethan frowned now. “It… It wasn’t over nothing, James… Well, I mean— It WAS, but it also wasn’t…” He sighed. “Oh, I’m not making any sense, am I?”
“Linda said he must not have slept well,” James told him. “But, she ALSO said he was nice to Ashley, so I don’t get it.”
“James, Gary is… He’s the kind of person who doesn’t think two men should love each other.”
“But, he’s never said so,” James reminded. “And he doesn’t call us bad names, or—“
“He doesn’t NEED to say it,” Ethan explained. “He shows it with his actions. Yeah, he’s never SAID why he dislikes us so much. But, he’s always treated us differently.”
“Like complaining about our yard being ‘overgrown’ when lots of other people had let their grass grow even higher?”
“Yeah, exactly like that.”
“But, Linda’s so nice,” James said. “I don’t understand… How can she be—“
“Linda sees all of Gary’s good qualities,” Ethan said. “I’m sure he has them, and I’m sure he shows them to people that he isn’t prejudiced against. Linda loves him for those things and, sometimes, when we love a person, we don’t see their flaws. Sometimes, we’re in denial about them. Since Gary isn’t the type of homophobe that gets violent with anyone, or calls people slurs, it may be easier for her to ignore that he still holds a lot of those same views.”
“Oh…” James said. “So, when he said ‘people like us’ shouldn’t be in the neighborhood, he really WASN’T talking about the decorations…”
Ethan shook his head. “If we took them all down and suddenly had the most beautiful lawn on Earth, Gary would find something to complain about anyway.”
James frowned. “I’m always nice to him…”
“And that’s good,” Ethan said. “You should be nice to him. It isn’t your fault he’s acting this way, it’s his choice. And, unfortunately, being nice probably won’t change him, that has to be his choice too.”
“Oh…” James seemed disappointed. “Well, I’m gonna be nice anyways.”
Ethan nodded. He had a feeling James didn’t even KNOW how to be mean, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen James get mad. Even when someone hurt him, rather than anger, James just cried… He hoped James wouldn’t cry over this later. “Hey, let’s forget about him… Did you see the lights on HIS house? He’s just got one little string going around the roof, it looks pitiful. When it gets dark and we turn on all the ones YOU set up? People won’t even be able to SEE his house anymore.”
James smiled, “Y—You really like them?” He’d been so frantic to pee when Ethan had gotten home, he’d barely registered the reaction.
“I love them,” Ethan said. “I love YOU.” |
On their third ever date, Ethan and James were meeting up at a movie theater. Ethan had over-indulged in coffee that morning, then spent the afternoon running errands and getting stuck in traffic. Soon enough, it was time to head to the theater, and Ethan’s bladder was full. But, if he took a moment to find somewhere to empty it, he’d end up being late.
Ethan REALLY liked James. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long, long time. The last time he’d been this certain about a person, it had ended terribly. He couldn’t risk losing James… He couldn’t afford to be late.
So, in spite of the urine stretching out within him, he drove straight to the theater. When he got out of his car, he stumbled, fighting not to grab himself in a public parking lot. He was hoping he’d actually BEATEN James here, it would be so embarrassing to tell James he needed a bathroom break right at the start of their date!
Ever since he and James had started dating, Ethan had even felt weirdly awkward having James see him go to the restroom in his office! He was sure James didn’t like having to picture him urinating. If James was already here, he was POSITIVE James wouldn’t like having to think about him holding it all day and being really desperate!
But, James was already in the lobby. And Ethan HAD been holding it all day and WAS really desperate. He couldn’t head off with James to watch a two hour long movie now, he’d burst! Ethan approached James on wobbly legs, hoping he didn’t look too weird.
James waved enthusiastically, like he always did, but once Ethan was close enough, James’s eyes fixated on his bouncing feet. “H—Hi, Ethan!” James said, uncharacteristically anxious. He cleared his throat, and Ethan noticed a strange pinkness in his cheeks. “How have you been t—today?”
“Busy,” Ethan answered, his bladder issuing a sharp throb, telling him he’d been TOO busy. “Did a lot of running around, haven’t… Uh…” He rocked on his heels. “A—Actually, I— Um— I have to—“ He felt a droplet forming on his tip and panicked. “Be right back!” He took off for the restroom, pee pushing at his opening with every step and face burning with shame. That had been SO rude! What had he been thinking? He WASN’T thinking, that was the problem! He had to pee too badly to think!
Now, James probably figured Ethan didn’t like him all that much. Or that Ethan was flaky. Or that Ethan was actually meeting TWO people here tonight and had to keep them from running into each other because he was engaged in some sort of sitcom-level love triangle!
As Ethan scrambled into the restroom, rushed for the first available urinal and just barely tore his zipper down in time to release a veritable typhoon of pale yellow liquid, it never ONCE occurred to him that James might actually have just been thinking ‘Oh, I guess Ethan REALLY needs to pee!’
But, of course, that WAS what James was thinking, plus a little extra. ‘Oh, I guess Ethan REALLY needs to pee! That squirmy dance he was doing was so adorable! I wish I could have gotten him to wait even longer without it being weird!’ He had no intention of EVER telling Ethan that he’d just accidentally pressed one of his most favorite buttons.
That button had definitely been pressed, though. Mashed, actually. And now James didn’t even know if he could move. His feet were frozen as he pictured Ethan standing at a urinal, his slumped shoulders, the shiver moving through him, a breathtaking, flushed expression on his face… James couldn’t move at all, he could barely even breathe. Heat traveled through him, concentrating in his groin and James felt his cock twitch. ‘No, no, no!’ He begged his body to calm down. Yes, this was very hot. Yes, witnessing Ethan desperate to pee even for less than three seconds had been like something out of a wet dream.
But, no, James couldn’t let himself get hard. He couldn’t. He was in public, and Ethan wouldn’t understand. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to picture the least sexy things imaginable. Tried to figure out what the exact OPPOSITE of Ethan panting and moaning as he drained an overly-full bladder was. For some reason, the only thing that came to mind was the cafeteria worker at his elementary school who’d once sneezed in the macaroni and kept serving it anyway. He tried to just remember what THAT had looked like, and banish all thoughts of Ethan relieving himself from his mind.
Miraculously, he managed to stay soft.
Ethan came back eventually, and it had taken so long that James wondered if the poor thing had been made to wait in line. ‘Or maybe he has a HUGE bladder and it just took a long time for him to—‘ James shook his head. He wasn’t ever going to know how large Ethan’s bladder was, so he shouldn’t THINK about it!
Ethan was so red, staring down at his feet. “I’m SO sorry about that! I barely even said hello to you! That was so rude!”
“I—It’s fine!” James promised. He was sure he was blushing as much as Ethan, but HE probably looked suspicious because HE had no reason to be embarrassed!
Ethan anxiously took James’s hand in his clammy one. He winced, “Ah… I’m sorry, I’m sweating because I’m nervous, and I’m nervous because of how I just—“
“It’s okay,” James managed, squeezing Ethan’s hand because he really just had to squeeze SOMETHING. Ethan getting so flustered about his emergency was making James’s cock twitch again, and it was taking everything he had not to get erect. “Wh—When you gotta go, you gotta go, right?” He laughed awkwardly. “A—And you said you were busy, so… I g—guess you didn’t go all day, so of course you had to go real bad and needed to rush off like that. P—Poor Ethan, holding it s—so long, I bet you feel loads better now!” James finally just clamped his mouth shut and gritted his teeth. Why couldn’t he stop talking?! He was making it weird! Ethan was going to think he was weird! Ethan was going to leave!
“Um… Yeah, you’re right,” Ethan nodded, looking away from James for a second. “I… Didn’t go all day, I just got so caught up in other things…” Blushing more deeply, he added “Heh, see what happens when my assistant isn’t around to remind me of stuff?”
James felt like massive fires had been set in every last corner of his body, an alarm rang inside his head, and he desperately fought to pretend Ethan HADN’T just said that, and that he WASN’T now thinking of how amazing it would be to… To tell Ethan when he could and couldn’t urinate, always bringing him to the toilet at the exact moment he could hold it no longer. Sweat drizzled down the nape of his neck.
“James…?” Ethan asked. “Was that… That was a dumb thing to say, I’m sorry. I’m awful at flirting, aren’t I?”
‘What do you mean?! You are going to make me cum in my pants with just your words at this rate!’ James thought. “Er—Uh— W—Well—“
“And I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about me… About me… peeing…” Ethan added softly.
‘I don’t think I could ever get tired of that, I just wish we were somewhere private…’
“So! Let’s go see the movie,” Ethan decided, caressing James’s hand and leading him off.
To this day, James still has no idea WHICH movie he and Ethan actually watched on their third date.
He often thought back to that date though, of course he did. He couldn’t help it. It was the very first time he got to see Ethan get super desperate. He fantasized about other ways that incident could have ended. If James had claimed to need to pee too, and they’d gone side by side. If Ethan had needed to wait in line for too long and came back soaked, apologizing over and over, while James comforted him and told him it was okay. If Ethan had gotten to the theater too late, and they needed to go to their seats right away, forcing him to wait a bit longer, squirming and trying to keep James from noticing.
One thing James wanted was to recreate that moment somehow, to meet Ethan somewhere and have him bursting at the seams right out of the gate like that. Only now, since they’d grown so much closer, James would be able to keep stalling him from there, pretending not to notice that Ethan was nearly wetting his pants in front of him.
The planned-out holds at home were fun, but James wished that one day he could be surprised by a new opportunity to control Ethan’s bladder.
As they headed to bed one night, James brought it up. “Remember our third date?” He asked.
Ethan blushed, “Um… Was that the one where you realized you were in love with me?”
“I was already in love with you before we were going out,” James said. “That one did make me love you more, though. You were adorable, could barely get two words out…”
“I was trying…” Ethan said. “But, you know… Hard to have a conversation when you’re almost peeing yourself… And, I was so nervous that you’d be grossed out if you knew how desperate I was— Which I guess was the wrongest I’ve ever been.”
“Heh…” James turned to hug him. “It was a nice thing to see I wish you’d do that again.”
“Get desperate at the movies?” Ethan asked. “I did that not TOO long ago, remember?”
“No, I don’t mean at the movies,” James said. “I mean, come meet me somewhere when you’re already bursting and I’m not expecting it.”
“Oh, you mean ‘surprise’ you?” Ethan guessed. “And then let you decide if I can go or not?”
“Yeah,” James nodded. “Can you do that?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Aw,” James frowned. “Think about it, at least?”
“I am thinking about it,” Ethan promised. “But, if I tell you, it won’t be a surprise, will it?”
When the time eventually came, it was actually a surprise to both of them. Ethan hadn’t intended to come home to James with his bladder splitting at the seams, but that was what happened. He’d started the day with a couple cups of coffee, and then he’d gone out to get groceries. He’d sort of needed to pee a little before leaving the house, but the urge had BARELY been there, and the trip was supposed to be short. If it got bad, he’d just go at the store.
It DID get bad, but he couldn’t go at the store.
He started to really need the toilet when he was about halfway done shopping. The nagging tingle at the base of his cock had turned into more of an insistent throb that encompassed his entire midsection. The morning’s coffee had begun to really filter through him, and the drive back home was going to be a deeply uncomfortable one if he didn’t empty his bladder out first.
Still, he finished gathering everything on his list first, not wanting to abandon the cart just because he had to pee. The rest of the shopping excursion ended up being a rushed affair, now that the only thing he was interested in was checking out and using the restroom near the exit. He may have accidentally gotten the wrong scent of shampoo as a result, but that was fine. His bladder felt so taut by the time he got to the checkout area that nothing else really mattered to him.
Of course, there was a line. Every register had at least four people waiting at it. Ethan stood at the back of one line, stepping between his feet. He did it slowly, hoping to only appear bored, and not like his bladder was beginning to swell. But, oh, it was really stretching out. The coffee was moving through him so fast, he felt like a new splash of urine sloshed into his bladder every second. His need was increasing in fast-forward and, while he wasn’t sure if it would have made THAT big of a difference, he dearly wished that he’d peed before leaving the house.
The first person finished paying and departed from the line, Ethan eagerly stepped forwards. ‘Hurry,’ he thought, tensing his thighs and wriggling his hips. He was stunned by how rapidly his urge had gone from ‘hardly noticeable’ to ‘deeply uncomfortable’. He wouldn’t be surprised if, in the ten or so minutes it took him to get through this line, his bladder would be so irritated that he was forced to hold onto himself.
The line was moving so slowly… When he finally close enough to begin putting his things onto the conveyer belt, he was straining his legs together. It didn’t help that he had to keep bending down a little to move stuff out of the cart— And it CERTAINLY didn’t help that a couple of those things were rather heavy. He had to lift three gallon size plastic juice bottles, all filled with liquid. He could hear the fluid inside splashing, the sound sending a bead of sweat down his back. He felt like a FOURTH gallon was currently locked inside of his trembling bladder.
Looking at the bottles, he couldn’t help but remember a few of the games he and James had played, how they sometimes began with James making him drink half of one of those as quickly as he could, then finish off the rest gradually over the next several hours. It never took long for the half-gallon of juice to begin seeping down into his bladder, turning him into a squirming mess of desperation. “You have to finish the rest of the jug,” James would say. “Once it’s all gone, you can pee. I promise.”
But, he wouldn’t be able to drink the rest very quickly. His stomach would be too bloated for that, his whole body so water-logged that the thought of another sip made him nauseas. So, he’d have to take his time, drag it out, all while his bladder had more and more time to fill. His body would shudder, protesting each sip, bladder spasming and begging for him not to drink any more until his need was assuaged. Even knowing that the only way to get relief was to finish the jug wasn’t enough to make it any easier on him; He’d swear that every swallow immediately filtered through him and went right to his overflowing bladder.
The last time he and James had played that particular game, when Ethan gulped down the last of the juice and cried out that he was finished, he wasn’t able to make it all the way to the restroom. He was just too full, his eyes were floating, his teeth were aching from how long he’d been gritting them, and his rock-hard, screeching bladder was going to empty itself if he tried to move. So, he’d had no choice but to empty all his liquids back into the same jug they’d originally came from.
“Wow,” James said once he was at last blissfully relieved of his burden. “You filled it up so much!”
Remembering that moment now, recalling how GOOD it had felt to empty out while he was trapped in line and flooding a juice jug was completely out of the question, Ethan pushed himself against the counter a bit, squeezing his eyes closed. ‘Just a few more minutes,’ he promised himself. ‘There’s only one person ahead of you, just wait for them to pay…’
That was going to take much longer than he’d hoped.
The woman ahead of him was arguing with the cashier. Apparently, one of the dozen or so coupons she’d brought had expired, and that was just unacceptable. The lady working the register kept repeating that it wasn’t UP to her and the store’s system wouldn’t even allow the invalid coupon to go through if she tried.
“Try it ANYWAY,” the customer snapped with a roll of her eyes.
Ethan stood stiffly as he watched, hands balling up into fists and legs crossing back and forth a little too often for it to look casual. ‘Come on, not now…’ he thought. He let out an involuntary whimper as the customer continued berating the cashier.
“I come here ALL the time, and you’re the first person who’s EVER refused to do this for me!”
“O—Okay,” the cashier said, punching something into her computer. Sure enough, it displayed an error. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Like I told you, I’m not in control of—“
“Can I speak to your manager?” The customer interrupted. “This is ridiculous. I come here EVERY week, and I’ve NEVER been treated like this.”
Ethan shifted, adjusting his shirt which was brushing too much against the angry bump of piss beginning to stretch him out. Why now?! Why THIS register? Pink lip caught between his teeth, he glanced around at all the other lines, which were now moving far faster than the one he was stuck in.
“There are other customers waiting,” the cashier said. “If you go to the—“
“No,” the customer cut her off. “I’m going to wait right here, and you’re going to bring me your manager. This is just… Unbelievable, how you’re acting right now. How old are you? Clearly not mature enough to have a job.”
The cashier DID look young, mid-teens probably. And she was starting to tear up, face flushed as pink as Ethan was worried his own was. “Th—There are other customers, I’m not supposed to just—“
The customer gave a quick glance in Ethan’s direction, “He can wait,” she stated. “Can’t you?”
Ethan was barely even paying attention by that point, the desperate spasms of his bladder and the constantly building pressure of his need demanded all of his focus and mental-energy. He didn’t realize he was being addressed until the woman spoke louder, “I am SPEAKING,” she snapped. “I said ‘Can’t you wait’?”
No, Ethan COULDN’T wait at all. If he didn’t get to the bathroom VERY soon he was going to leave a huge puddle on the ground. The next spasm from his bladder was even stronger now that the woman’s eyes were on his squirming body. “I—I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m in a bit of hurry, actual—“
“See? He can wait,” the customer barked at the cashier. “Now, GO.”
Clearly overwhelmed and at a loss, the cashier left. Ethan debated if he should just put all his stuff BACK in the cart and try a different line now, but someone had just come in behind him, and he really WAS trapped. The only way he was getting relief now was by being patient.
The disgruntled customer turned back to face him again, “Can you BELIEVE this?” She scoffed.
No. Ethan couldn’t believe this. He couldn’t believe that an entire ocean had managed to flow into his bladder just in the short time he’d been waiting here. He couldn’t believe that he was now stuck here even LONGER because of one stupid coupon. And he couldn’t believe that this woman evidently expected him to take her side in all of this.
He knew better than to give her any kind of a response. Pretending to agree with her just to keep the peace would likely drag things out more. Telling her precisely what his TRUE feelings were would provoke more of an argument. And, attempting to calm her down… Well, that wouldn’t work so well, either. Ethan was much too agitated by the scorching shockwaves burning against his opening to calm ANYONE down— For example, if he demonstrated any of the breathing exercises he taught his patients, all the slow, deep inhales and exhales would explode his bladder.
Plus, Ethan liked to think he was pretty good at reading people, and he had a feeling that this woman would only be further irritated by such a thing.
“Hello?” The woman demanded. “I am TALKING to you, the least you could do is act like you hear me.”
“S—Sorry,” Ethan mumbled, rocking back and forth on his heels, hips shifting in small grinding motions, barely managing not to jump up and down.
“Alright then,” she sighed. “I don’t think she’s gonna have a job for much longer, do you?”
Ethan, again, didn’t want to respond. He was liable to say something he’d regret if he actually answered her. “I’m sorry, like I was saying I’m in a hurry—“
“Well, you wouldn’t have to wait so long if that idiot knew how to work a register.”
Ethan turned away, he took out his phone and pretended that he’d just received an important text. As he scrolled aimlessly through it, he considered sending a message to James, something like ‘Absolutely dying to pee at the store, stuck in line because someone can’t accept that their coupon’s expired.’ At least, if he did that, then someone would be getting a bit of entertainment out of his misfortune…
Before he could write the message, however, the cashier returned with another woman, presumably the manager. What followed from there was ANOTHER argument, during which the person behind Ethan got fed up and stormed off to a different line. Ethan thought about joining him, but he didn’t want to have to lift those juice jugs again until his own ‘jug’ had finally been emptied. He didn’t think he’d be ABLE to do it without peeing on himself at this point.
So, he held on as the customer and the manager bickered. The customer insisted that LAST TIME, her old coupons HAD been accepted, that there had been some override the cashier had used on the computer system to get it to go through. The manager kept stating that no such override existed and that, perhaps, she was thinking of a different store. They went back and forth like that for a while, and Ethan’s opening started to sting, he felt liquid right at the very edge, just about to come out. He was going to pee his pants here! He was going to soak himself in public because of a damn coupon!
Now, he was thinking about just ABANDONING his groceries here and running to the toilet. He couldn’t take it anymore. If they weren’t still here when he got back, he’d just have to go find everything again. He didn’t care. He just had to go. He couldn’t let his bladder spill all over the floor, he couldn’t force that poor cashier to mop up what was sure to be an enormous puddle. He needed to—
“Well!” The customer snapped finally. “I will NEVER be coming HERE again!” She even went as far as to stomp one of her feet down before charging towards the exit, leaving all of her bagged groceries behind.
The manager sighed and turned to the cashier, “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’re not in trouble for this. Just help the next person, I’ll see about putting this stuff back on the shelves.”
Oh, finally… Ethan inched forwards as the cashier started scanning his stuff. “I’m sorry,” she told him, clearly trying to do it as fast as possible. “I’m hurrying, I’m really sorry…”
“It’s fine,” Ethan said, swaying from foot to foot. She WAS hurrying, he KNEW that, he just… He didn’t feel like he had much time left! “It’s— It’s not your fault…”
“I can tell you’re in a rush,” she said. “I don’t wanna make you late for something—“
“It’s nothing, Ethan insisted, his legs crossed on their own, and he blushed at how obvious he was being. “It’s— It’s not important, I’m only— If I’m acting impatient, it’s just because I need to use the restroom, it’s not a big deal. It’s not your fault.” His face reddened more, the admission sending a flurry of heat through him, coiling around the ball of pressure at the center of his body— The ball of pressure that he would FINALLY be emptying very, VERY soon…
The cashier frowned. And then started apologizing again; “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“
“It’s okay,” Ethan assured again, his hips wriggling. “I’m not mad at you over thi—“
“I’m sorry, I’m—“ the cashier stammered. “It’s— The bathroom for customers is out of order, and I’m not allowed to let anyone use the employee one. I’ll— I’ll get my manager again, I’m sorr—“
Ethan tried to keep the horrified dismay from showing on his face. Maybe if he hadn’t been aware of how awful this poor girl’s day had already been, the surges in his bladder would have provoked him into wanting to ask the manager for the key. But, the cashier had already gone through so much trouble… “It’s fine,” he interrupted, ignoring the absolutely agonizing twinge that twirled through his middle. “D—Don’t worry about it. I don’t live that f—far away, I can wait.”
As soon as he said that, he felt the warmth of his first leak. It was small, but the wetness that formed on his boxers provided a powerful tease against his tip, encouraging him to continue peeing, taunting him with how good it would feel to let it all go. ‘You can’t wait,’ his body seemed to shout. ‘You’ve waited long enough already!’
“O—Okay,” the cashier said. “Sorry…”
“It’s not your fault,” Ethan told her once more. “You didn’t make me drink a bunch of coffee before coming here, did you?”
The cashier smiled a little, then had him pay. Finally, he could leave the checkout area. Unfortunately, when he passed the restroom, he saw that it was indeed out of order. He was going to have to hold all his liquids back until he got home…
Worse, he was going to have to load all the bags of groceries into the car first… Several of them were VERY heavy. Ethan wasn’t very… Well, James said he didn’t need big, strong arms or washboard abs to be hot, but sometimes Ethan wished he had those things anyway. He shouldn’t have been straining to lift a paper bag with three gallon jugs in it, but he was. And, that strain was placing more pressure onto his bladder, and diverting attention away from the muscles he needed to clench most of all.
He spurted a few more times before he’d gotten all the bags put away. Then, he was finally able to drive home. He hoped the front door was unlocked since James was still there, he didn’t want there to be anything standing between him and the toilet. The extra seconds required to unlock the door could be his undoing if he wasn’t careful. He wanted to pull into the driveway, get out of the car, then dash to the restroom at breakneck speed, yank his zip down before he was even through the door, and start gushing the very second he was close enough to the toilet.
God… The thought of all that relief… It was making it hard to drive! He had to keep one hand wrapped around his aching cock at all times, leaving only one available to work the wheel. It was difficult to concentrate on the road too, he kept glancing around for somewhere to stop. But, nothing looked that promising. The employees at the department stores would try to talk him into buying something, the fast food places were all packed since it was already lunch time, and even with as bad as he had to go, he still didn’t think he was desperate enough to brave a gas station toilet.
He just had to get home. NOW.
It was luckily only about a twenty minute drive, and he moaned as he parked the car. “Hold it, Ethan…” he mumbled, feeling a few errant drips oozing from his trembling tip. He clasped his other hand over himself, thrusting his hips upwards into the much needed to pressure. “You’re almost there…”
He gingerly shuffled from the car, trying to do so in a way that wouldn’t shake his bladder. No matter how slowly he moved, however, he still felt the liquid in him bounce around, sloshing against the burning walls of his distended abdomen. Finally outside, he tightened his grip and rushed for the front door. “Please be open,” he panted as he shakily grabbed for the doorknob. “Please…” It turned for him and he bolted inside. He didn’t even have time to kick off his shoes in the front hall, just ran in the direction of what he so urgently needed.
That door was shut.
He could hear a hissing trickle from behind it, and that drew forth both another moan AND another leak. “J—James!” He called. “Almost done?”
“Welcome back,” James replied cheerfully. “I just got in here, I’ll help you with the groceries in a minute.”
‘Ohhh, please hurry, James!’ Ethan thought. “O—Okay,” he said. He tried not to listen to intently to James’s release, but he couldn’t help it! From the sound of it, James had needed it quite badly too… He might have been holding it in for fun again today, because his stream was rushing out hard and fast, and not slowing down. Ethan heard him sigh, and as he pictured his partner shivering with relief, he dribbled once more.
“Phew…” James exhaled as the flow of liquid finally tapered off. “Okay, Ethan, I’m all done! Just one more second!”
Ethan heard the sink come on, he doubled over, stomping his feet into the floor. The sink’s spray wasn’t as torturous as the sound of James actually peeing, but it still went straight to his bladder. His knees bent and rubbed, he was no longer physically capable of ceasing his urgent pee-dance. If he stopped moving, he’d go for sure.
At last the door opened. James looked at his pained, folded posture and his eyes went wide. “Oh… You need to go BAD, don’t you?”
“Y—Yeah,” Ethan nodded. “T—Took me forever to get out of the st—store, thought I’d n—never get home.” He started to force his wobbly feet to carry him into the restroom, but James stood in his way. “James…” he whined.
“The groceries are still sitting in the car,” James said. “That’s not good— It’s so hot today! Some of them might spoil.”
Oh no… No. Ethan couldn’t wait anymore! “It’ll only take me a minute to—“
“Hmmm, I don’t think so,” James disagreed. “I’ve seen how long you pee when you’ve been bursting!” He brushed some of Ethan’s sweat-dampened hair away from his eyes. “And… You’re DEFINITELY bursting right now!”
Ethan knew that if he asked, James would stop teasing him. If he said ‘No, James, I’m serious. I REALLY need to go, I don’t WANT to hold it anymore,’ this would immediately end and James would let him pee. James wouldn’t FORCE him to hold it if he was unwilling to play along. James wasn’t cruel.
Ethan was ABOUT to say exactly that. ‘I’m sorry, James. We can play another time, okay?’ But, then he remembered that this situation was one of James’s fantasies— A semi-recreation of what had happened on their third date. Ethan meeting him somewhere, already bursting at the seams, when he hadn’t been expecting it.
And now, James had the opportunity to do what he hadn’t gotten to during that date; Tease him and make him hold it a little bit longer.
“O—Okay, you can tease me for a few minutes!” Ethan said. “But, I really, really n—need to go SOON, okay? I’ve been leaking since I was at the store!”
James giggled, “How can you expect me to only tease you for a few minutes when you say something like THAT?”
“James…” Ethan whined.
“Alright, not TOO long,” James promised. “But, like I was saying, we can’t leave all the food out in the hot car, can we?”
“N—No,” Ethan said. “I guess not.”
So, Ethan followed James BACK to the car, bladder still blisteringly full and unrelieved. The trunk was opened and James grabbed a couple bags. Ethan was relieved to see his partner pick up the heaviest one with all the juice jugs, he felt sure that he WOULD explode if he tried carrying it again.
Ethan got some of the bags too. He was faced with another conundrum. He wanted this done as fast as possible, but if he loaded up BOTH of his arms, he’d lose the ability to squeeze his crotch. He discovered this when, halfway to the door with both arms full, he suddenly suffered such a prominent surge from his midsection that he felt a heavy blast of pee slosh into his boxers. Of course, his instinct was to grab himself and plug his opening closed, but he couldn’t do that without dropping everything. “Mmmf…” he whimpered, tightening up his thighs and shimmying his hips around.
James came back out, seeing his distress, “Uh oh—“
“C—Could you carry some of th—these, I need to— I need a free-hand, I need—“
James didn’t take any of the bags. Instead, he grasped Ethan’s damp crotch with his own hand, squeezing gently. Ethan responded with a thankful, needy moan and bucked against the pressure without fully intending to.
A second later, James was already easing his hand away, making Ethan whimper.
“Don’t let go—“ Ethan groaned, squirming more urgently.
“Get those inside,” James encouraged. “I bet the heat is already getting to them!”
Ethan shuddered and continued to fumble his way back into the house. He dumped the bags onto the kitchen table, then immediately thrust both of his own hands between his legs, rapidly bouncing his feet. James was beside him a moment later, setting down the remaining bags. “There, that’s all of them.”
“Great,” Ethan said breathlessly. Now that he’d handled this oh-so-important task, he knew he was free to use the toilet. Still, a part of him was just compelled to ask; “Can I— Can I go now?”
James glanced him over, acting like he had all the time in the world. “Go where?”
Ethan hopped from foot to foot. It felt like it had been years since he’d last peed, even though he’d gone after waking up that morning. “Y—You KNOW where!”
“I don’t,” James said, reaching into one of the bags with a smile. “Let’s get this stuff put away. I’m sure wherever you want to go can wait.”
“It can’t…” Ethan whimpered. “Please?”
“Please what?”
“Please can I pee now?”
“Hmmm… Maybe…” James considered.
Ethan tangled his legs up into an even more impressive knot as he whined, “But I really have to— You said I could go after we brought the groceries in!”
“Did I?” James asked. “I don’t remember saying that… I DID say you could go in a few minutes, but I never said WHICH minute…”
Ethan moaned, squeezing his eyes closed, “Can’t it be THIS one? Please? I’ve been holding it all day, it’s not gonna stay in!”
James shivered at that admission, his heart beating faster and faster and his face scorching hot. He stepped closer to Ethan, wrapping him up in his arms and kissing his cheek, “Aww, did someone drink too much coffee this morning?”
Ethan shuddered against James, squirming roughly into his side. “Yessss…”
Another kiss, “Silly Ethan…”
“James…” Ethan whined. “Please let me—“
James silenced him with a kiss on the lips, now able to feel the tension in Ethan’s jaw… He pulled away, “Do you really, really have to go?”
“Yes, James!”
“Poor Ethan…” James said, his hand started to trail down his partner’s body, coming to rest against the firm, taut skin of his lower abdomen. “Hmm, what’s this?”
Ethan flinched and jerked his hips at even that tiny pressure, “You know…”
“I don’t.”
“That’s my— That’s my bladder, James,” Ethan mewled.
“Ah,” James smiled, circling a finger over the swell. “Feels very full…”
“It isss…”
“Bet you want to just let all this go…”
“Please?”
“Are you gonna pee your pants if I don’t say yes?” James asked, smiling as Ethan shuddered. “Are you gonna get the floor all wet unless you pee now?”
“Yes!” Ethan exclaimed. “Please, James? Please?”
“Awww, okay,” James said. “You’ve been so good, I guess you’ve earned it now. You’re gonna have to let me watch, though. I gotta make sure you were telling the truth about needing to pee so bad!”
Ethan tried not to let out a laugh that definitely would have made him explode. “O—Of course you can watch, James,” he said.
James helped him hobble to the restroom and eagerly watched as Ethan tore down his zipper and aimed. A stream sprayed out immediately, splashing harshly into the water. Ethan didn’t even have time to let out a sigh of relief before James said “Hang on—“
“Wha—“
“Stop.”
“Nnnnnhhhh…” Ethan growled, tightening down on his muscles miserably. He was able to restrain himself to just dribbling, but his seal had been BROKEN, he knew the gush would be erupting again any second now. “Whaaaat?!”
“Let me aim it,” James said, stepping behind him.
“Okay,” Ethan said. He released his cock, and James grasped it. “Can I—“
“Yes, Ethan. Let it all go now.”
His release resumed, now even more pent-up and powerful. Somehow, being forced to cut it off for a second like that meant that now he felt even more thoroughly relieved. “Ahhhh… Thank you…” he moaned. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” James said, nuzzling against him as he continued to aim his stream for him. “Good boy, you listened to EVERYTHING I said today…” he praised. “I didn’t think you’d be able to stop like that when I said, but you DID, such a good job…”
“Ohhh…” Ethan let out another low groan. James’s hands on his cock, the euphoria of letting his bladder drain, those… those WORDS… He was in Heaven, he felt so good, he felt like he was having the longest, most intense orgasm of his life.
“That’s it…” James encouraged. “Keep peeing… You DID have to go, there’s so much… What a great job you did keeping all this in you…”
“James…” Ethan panted. “I… I had to go so bad…”
“I know, poor thing…” James said. “Just relax now… Such a good boy…”
Ethan’s stream finally started to slow after well over a minute, “Phew…”
James shook him off, doing so more times than was really necessary, and continuing to emphasize to Ethan what a wonderful job he’d done holding it in. It only took a few seconds for Ethan’s emptied tap to become hard. “Heh… You must feel a LOT better…” he said.
Ethan blushed, “Yeah…”
James grinned, wriggling. His own pants were getting tight… “Want me to keep touching it?”
Ethan forced himself to shrug, “I thought you said we have to put all the groceries away!”
James frowned, “N—No, that can wait! I was just— I was trying to tease y—“
“I’M teasing YOU now,” Ethan said. “Let’s get you to the bedroom.” |
This is a story set in Phentaiee's comic "Fill-Me - The Human Toilet" (currently on it's second chapter) which was written as a trade for art that Phen has done for me! This story can hopefully be enjoyed regardless of if you've read his comic, but I recommend checking it out if you enjoy this sort of thing!
Part One
“Come on, there has to be somewhere!” Milly gasped, pausing her hurried footsteps to cross her legs and bounce in place. Her wavy, pink hair now frizzy and unkempt from the heat of the Florida sun.
Tara walked briskly behind her, toned abs exposed, tense and sweaty, “I told you to ease up on the mocktails…” she berated her housemate.
“You’d think at least one place in town would have a bathroom, ngh-!” Milly grunted, doubling over and giving her crotch a squeeze. “Besides, you’re the one who had to stop at every single drinking fountain!”
“Hydration is important, and I don’t make a habit of getting caught short like some people.”
“I know you have to go too! You didn’t even go this morning!” Milly snapped back, stamping one foot onto the boardwalk.
The two girls had spent the day so far sightseeing in town. In truth there hadn’t been too much to do, but they’d already spent the last few days enjoying the beaches so wandering further inland had been a nice change of pace. Apart from a few fun souvenir stores, they’d spent the morning hopping from café to bar to restaurant and taking it easy, though neither had expected to find every single one without working facilities.
Now, as the two o’clock sun blazed brightly above, two full bladders roamed the boardwalk looking for privacy.
Milly started ranting as she power-walked, “How do you even get away with that? Isn’t there some law about selling drinks and not providing… you know?” She shivered, still not daring to remove her hand from between her legs; there were a dozen ice teas and smoothies demanding exit down there.
“They probably don’t want tourists coming in just to use them.” Suggested Tara, trying to ignore her own internal struggle. Despite her relative composure next to Milly, the athletic lady’s clenched fists and sweat soaked face betrayed her need.
“Ugh!” Milly groaned, “I get that, but even the public toilets were out of order! I wish they’d have just let us in anyway, the toilet doesn’t need to work when we have-”
“Um,” a quieter voice spoke up from behind them, “I’d like to remind you both that I am still here and fully functional.”
Milly and Tara glanced back at Filie, a petite blonde girl and “Human Toilet” - a walking, talking container of urine, with a bladder able to contain unfathomable volumes.
When the girls had purchased Filie, they’d been told she wasn’t capable of feeling, or having any sort of emotional response to stimuli. This of course was referring to the sensation of a full bladder, one that the “Fill-Me” units were said not to experience.
Whether the adverts had lied, or Filie was faulty, the truth remained that she could feel everything. Currently she held hardly more than a meagre two litres, as her tank had been emptied only the previous evening, but she could feel how it stretched her bladder walls, and how it boiled and sloshed when she walked.
Luckily, she didn’t have to hold it herself though, as she came with a built-in filter. She couldn’t empty herself unless her owners wanted, by flicking the switch on her outer labia, which was almost always set to keep her sealed.
Now, both Milly and Tara exchanged an awkward glance in response to Filie’s comments. Milly spoke up, stammering, “W-We know you’re working Filie, b-but just like before, in town, we can’t just u-use you out in the open with all these p-people around.”
Filie blinked, “Oh, I’m sorry, but there are far fewer people here than in town.”
Milly swallowed, suddenly noticing the awkward glances she was getting and feeling ashamed of her hand’s current placement, “It’s n-not the amount of people that’s the issue, Filie…”
“Over here!” Tara called from up ahead, gesturing to a small alley beside a bait and tackle store. Hurrying over, Milly saw that it led off the boardwalk to an empty backlot with a dumpster.
“Th-This isn’t exactly private; anyone could see if they looked in!”
“Fine, hold it. I’m pissing,” Tara scoffed, moving hastily, having already started to unbutton her jean shorts, “Filie, come here!”
Filie was there in a flash, laid on the floor, pants yanked aside and the funnel she kept in her hair inserted and ready to receive Tara’s burden.
With a hiss through gritted teeth, Tara squatted down and relaxed her lower muscles for the first time since the previous night. Her stream began gentle, almost hesitant, like it wasn’t sure if it was safe to come out, but quickly grew into a roaring gusher of clear waste fluid.
Milly had followed them to avoid prying eyes, as her own were now wide and teary, drinking in the sight of Tara unloading with so much force and sound. Were it not for the ocean waves, she was certain everyone for miles could have heard this cacophony of relief. It was enough to force her other hand to join its sister, clutching tightly her spasming nethers in a last-ditch effort to stifle the incoming flood.
The sun still weighed heavily upon her and her tank top’s cleavage was damp with sweat. She began to hop from one foot to the next, her ample breasts bouncing, her abdomen practically sloshing.
Still, Tara’s piss continued, and she closed her eyes and bit her tongue to avoid groaning with pleasure. Below her, Filie was giddy with excitement and taking in every detail of the beautiful woman’s body, the strength of her piss, the heat of it, the steam rising from the great, thick stream. Just as her hold had been composed, so too was her release, it was a powerful but solid arc directly into Filie’s funnel and bladder, without a single splash or misdirection.
As Filie shivered at the sensation of so much pee being added to her already bulged bladder, she heard a choked whine and craned her neck to see Milly, bent double, ankles crossed, with both hands kneading her crotch. Her face was bright pink, tears down her cheeks, eyes locked on Filie’s bladder, a stare so sharp that Filie could feel it.
“T-Tara...” Milly wheezed through her grunting, “P-Please… finish… soon!”
Tara’s eyes remained closed, she sounded a thousand miles away, “Oh? I thought this wasn’t private enough?” she teased.
“TARA I’M GOING TO EXPLODE!”
Tara looked up and, seeing the state of Milly, the smugness instantly vanished from her face. She bore down hard on her bladder, pushing what remained out as quickly as possible. Her stream concluded abruptly without tapering off, then she stood, “I’m done, go!”
Milly had been rushing over before Tara had even spoken, almost pushing her aside as she threw down her damp cotton shorts, then pulled her fully soaked panties aside. She squatted down with her legs spread wide and a geyser burst from between them, Filie had to move quickly to angle her funnel so the majority of the violently messy piss was caught within.
After the initial spray, Milly’s gusher stabilised a little, still spluttering and splashing, but now almost completely heading into Filie.
Unlike Tara, Milly seemed to have no issue moaning loudly as she unloaded, her paranoia over being spotted had been drowned out by her desperation, and now she was wobbling as if about to lose consciousness.
While Tara busied herself with taking tissues from her bag and wiping, Filie intently observed the way Milly’s legs began to tremble as she let go.
This is the most desperate I’ve ever seen her, Filie thought, trying not to make it obvious how much she was loving this marathon of high pressure pisses she was taking in.
Filie felt her mind grow cloudy, and those clouds grow grey and swollen, but absolutely refusing to rain. She barely noticed when Milly lost her balance.
The still peeing girl had leaned a little too far forward in her dream-like state of relief and threw her arms towards Filie to catch herself. Which she did, and thankfully without soaking herself or Filie in the process. One of her hands hit the gravel painfully, while the other very nearly knocked the funnel aside, instead planting itself between Filie’s legs.
Her thumb brushed against something firm, which Milly barely registered but assumed to be the base of the funnel.
It was not.
Filie’s eyes snapped open and she looked to her still swelling midsection, as she felt the churning mass of liquid inside begin to gurgle and shift, something clunking heavily into place and trickling downwards.
Unbeknownst to Milly, she had just flicked the switch that controlled Filie’s filter, leaving the contents of her bladder free to attempt escape!
Said “contents” currently found their exit blocked by the force of Milly’s flood. Like a waterfall hitting a lake, Milly’s piss caused froth to form and ripples to form inside of Filie, who was still trying to process the intense feelings she was now rocked with.
A stinging, sparking need to push against the entering fluid was absolutely overwhelming her every nerve and muscle, but with all of her will, Filie was able to keep her body from betraying her.
The second the dreadful stream died down, Filie had to bite her bottom lip to keep from crying out, as she clenched her lower muscles for all she was worth, battling to keep the furious urine that had left her bladder, trapped, and burning in her urethra.
Milly finally collapsed, letting her body land beside Filie, her shorts still down and her thighs and panties sprinkled with fresh pee. It was at this stage that Tara couldn’t hold it any longer, she snorted, laughing loudly.
“You should have asked to go first!” she joked, heading over to give her pink-haired, piss drained friend a hand up.
Lying still beside her, Filie was the furthest she could imagine being from laughing. Inside her distended abdomen, a storm raged; waves threw themselves against the cliffside, the clouds let forth their thunder and started to rain, lightning struck the walls of the dam, and the shockwaves exploded inside her mind.
(to be continued)
Edited May 13, 2021 by BurstingBunnie
(see edit history) |
Oh gosh I totally forgot I hadn't posted the second part of this yet, my bad! Thanks everyone for reading so far, there's more coming soon! 🙂
Part Two
When Milly had come down from her post-piss afterglow, she’d cleaned herself up as best she could and accepted that, with how sweat soaked her outfit was, it probably wasn’t that noticeable that she’d gotten a little pee on herself.
Following this, the trio had resumed their aimless wandering. Tara had realised that they’d stumbled into a part of the boardwalk that they hadn’t seen before, and both girls agreed it to spend the rest of the day here.
Filie had nodded at this, walking behind them as they talked, something she already did most of the time anyway, but this time she avoided asking questions, in fact she tried to speak as little as possible.
Her entire mind was floating in a yellow river, her body tense and her most intimate parts clenched so tightly it hurt. Not only did she have to fight with every ounce of her being to maintain hold of this ponderous load, but it was imperative that she remain calm, and show no hint whatsoever of her distress. Not in-front of her owners.
Even the issue of the switch could not be brought up, she felt, for this would show them that she’d noticed her filter’s absence, and the lie she’d kept up since they bought her would be flushed away.
Worse still, if she were to lose control, to leak even a single spurt of her precious cargo, she would have failed in her one purpose, and have no choice but to allow herself to be replaced with a new, properly functioning Fill-Me unit.
Milly and Tara meant the world to Filie, and she cherished every moment spent with them, and holding their wonderful urine.
There must have been over three litres of boiling, impatient piss clawing around inside her now. Growling and gurgling in its dense, piddle prison. Filie couldn’t imagine anyone alive had ever needed to take a leak as badly as she did now, but if suffering this was what it took to stay with her owners, she was determined to find a way to hold on.
So, she walked slowly, keeping to herself, chewing her tongue when she wanted to groan or whimper, clenching and unclenching her fists and keeping count of every step she took that didn’t end in tragedy. Her face was as calm as she could make it, but she was barely blinking, and her jaw was stiff. No matter what she couldn’t keep the deep red from her cheeks or the sweat from dripping down her body, only pray that she could blame these terrible symptoms on the heat above, rather than the heat below.
Filie kept her head low, lost in her fears and fullness, she focused on the floorboards, she tried to ignore the incessant roar of the sea. She tried not to imagine those sounds were echoing from within her.
Then her bladder bumped into Milly’s back.
“Oh, sorry Filie!” her curvy owner said, turning to look at her, “Were you too busy sightseeing?”
The impact had jostled her piss tank; distending wildly from under her crop-top, it jutted out ahead of her as if she were six months pregnant. Filie stumbled backwards, her insides spasming wildly to take advantage of this lapse of concentration. Summoning her courage, Filie swallowed down the desperation and straightened herself up, playing off her stumble as nothing more than a loss of balance – which it was, to be fair, with how much heavier she was at the front now.
“Y-Yeah,” Filie stuttered, unable to help it, “Why’d we stop?”
Milly looked at her a little funny, maybe she’d noticed the stammer, or maybe Filie’s faux composure was not as convincing as she thought. The muscles in her thighs burned as she forced them to remain parted and still, she kept her eyes from twitching and her smile natural.
Either way, Milly couldn’t say anything before Tara turned back towards them and gestured to the large billboard ahead.
“I think we know what we’re doing with our afternoon,” she grinned.
With a dread that ached through her kidneys, Filie gaped up at the sign for “Whiplash Typhoon: Rollercoaster and Water Park!”
Though she didn’t know what a “Rollercoaster” was, or a “Whiplash Typhoon” for that matter, Filie knew the graphics of fast-moving carriages and rolling waves were spelling her doom.
Her heart caught in her throat and pounded in her piss stuffed pussy.
It wasn’t long before the three girls, and Filie’s bladder, were filing onto a busy bus and taking some seats near the back. The amusement park was only a half-hour ride away, and this service took tourists right to it from the beach. Milly had led them to the stop with her phone, and no sooner had they arrived that the bus had too.
As they settled in, Tara and Milly beside each other and Filie in one of the two seats behind them, Milly gasped, having gone for a drink and found her water bottle empty.
“Oops! I hadn’t wanted a drink since what happened, I thought there was some left.”
Tara checked her own, she’d had some gulps while they’d explored the boardwalk and it was only half full. “You can have some of mine, but not all of it. We’ll grab some drinks when we arrive.”
Out of their sight, Filie hadn’t even bothered to keep her thighs together. During the walk to the bus, she’d resigned herself to failure, to causing the very thing she existed to prevent, an accident. As she’d sat down, she’d felt her bladder churn, the stagnant urine was swirling, forming a piercing whirlpool directly above the tiny, quivering ring of muscles that couldn’t possibly hope to deny it any longer.
Just as tears distorted her vision, and she prepared to paint the town yellow, Milly’s comments had broken through.
With a start, she sat up straight, she slammed her thighs together, the sound covered by the rattling of the bus’s engine, and she tightened her piss hole like a vice. A great wave of pressure overwhelmed her, every atom of her being trembled and crossed its legs, Filie went red in the face, stopped breathing, and grit her teeth so hard they might have shattered.
Drinking. The answer was drinking. All she had to do was get Milly to use her before her strength gave out. Considering the heat, and Milly’s no-doubt tired sphincter from such an intense hold just now, there was every chance that Filie could get her bursting before she did.
Torturous vibrations rose through the floor and into her ocean as the bus began its journey. Yet, the surge of seething urgency had passed, and Filie had somehow survived it. Now, there was hope, and she refused to leak one drop.
(to be continued)
Edited May 27, 2021 by BurstingBunnie
(see edit history) |
Part Three
Filie’s resolve had only slightly wavered by the time the bus had rattled to its destination. There had been some close calls, some bumps in the road if you will, but Filie had held her grip throughout and occupied her mind with the lush scenery out her window.
If it weren’t for the significantly higher stakes of the scenario, Filie would have been more upset that her urgency was keeping her from enjoying such a new experience, but as it was, she had a great deal more weighing on her mind and muscles.
As several other passengers disembarked, Filie sucked in air and braced herself for the trial of standing. Her lower muscles were so extremely cinched together that they’d started to cramp, and as she stood, she felt a fire in her thighs from the attempt to support both herself and the heavy hydration of two beautiful girls. This thought would have usually excited Filie, but today it was a grim reminder of her personal war.
“Oh gosh!” Milly called as she stepped outside ahead of Filie, “How pretty!”
Following as quickly as her body allowed, Filie’s view was encompassed by a great spray of liquid. A huge fountain marked the entrance of the park, with cute stone dolphins shooting arcs of water high above the gates and down into shallow rivers that looped back towards the structure.
Pretty was certainly one word for it, as streams caught the sunbeams and caused faint impressions of colours to form all around.
A hundred questions filled Filie’s mind, she wanted to know all about the colours, and the fountain - and come to think of it, the park itself. Speaking in complete sentences, however, was simply out of the question, as her ears were flooded with a splashing, trickling, babbling noise.
She saw herself atop the fountain, squatting with her legs spread wide - a mirror of the pose Milly had taken when she’d released inside her an hour ago. At this, she would, herself, form colours in the air, especially the colour yellow.
Will Milly suspect something’s wrong if I don’t ask? Filie threated, biting her bottom lip, and looking around for some explanation that wouldn’t require her talking.
“Those colours are called rainbows, Filie!” Milly beamed, walking back to stand beside her, “It’s what happens when it rains with the sun out; these fountains are doing the same thing!”
Wonder and joy broke out on Filie’s face, a perfect mask for her relief at Milly’s rescue. It almost helped supress the awful urgency that the sounds of this place were forcing to surge and stab at her nethers. Almost.
Tickets were sold by length of stay, so it wasn’t that expensive to spend the afternoon. Filie had even gotten in for free, being that she was technically a possession. Milly had given her a guilty look when the attendant had said that, but Filie forced her best smile back and that seemed to settle it.
Tara picked up and map and started trying to work out which “rollercoaster” was going to have the shortest line, while Milly commented on wanting to find a place to fill her water bottle.
It was curious to Filie that she hadn’t just used the fountain, but this did remind her of her all-important mission. To her delight, there was a stand for what looked like beverages nearby. She tugged gently on Milly’s shirt to get her attention, “Um, what about that?”
“Hm?” Milly looked the stall over, “Oh, I don’t need anything fancy like that, I just need a drinking fountain or something.”
Filie swallowed, undeterred, “B-But, um, aren’t we here to have, um… amusement?”
Milly laughed, Tara too, placing her hands on her hips, “She’s not wrong Milly, when in Rome. Besides, you love smoothies!”
“I do love smoothies… Oh, alright then!” Milly giggled, having not taken much convincing. She took Filie by the hand and hurried over.
The sudden movement cost Filie her balance and she stepped awkwardly, her inner ocean thrashing about, fresh dribbles easing into her dangerously full urethra. When they stopped and stood at the vendor, it took Filie some thirty seconds of intense concentration to choke back the waves. Her entire universe boiled down to a pinpoint location; her throbbing pee hole, contracting to near the point of inward collapse.
“These are certainly interesting…” Milly mused, looking over the unique flavours, “Do you know what any of these are, or do you want me to pick for you?”
“A-Ahh…” Filie breathed, trying her best not to let her voice shake. She had been so busy surviving the results of Milly bringing her along, that she hadn’t realised it meant she was expected to drink too. “I… I don’t mind?”
Milly gave her a look, but the tide had calmed, or become as calm as it had been prior, and Filie was able to centre herself and smile naturally. Milly made their orders without questioning her, “One large Bubble-gum Burst and a Lemonade Spill, please! You liked that lemon juice the other day, didn’t you Filie?”
History’s most piss-filled person gave a quick nod, trying not to think too hard about those bizarre drink names. Another close call, but how many more could she afford?
Over the next half hour, the trio wandered around, Tara leading them to anywhere that looked exciting. Some passing clouds had given them a brief respite from the sun, so they decided not to head to the waterpark side of things just yet. Filie begged those clouds to stay put until she’d gotten Milly to use her.
A promising venture, as Milly had sucked down her smoothie in a matter of minutes. Filie had taken hers slowly; each gulp of sweet liquid flowing down her throat seemed to filter instantly into her fermenting reservoir below. The muscles between Filie’s legs were nearly numb from her constant clenching, but thankfully her patient, gradual intake avoided any major increases in pressure for that time. It would seem that as long as things stayed relatively stable, she would be able to maintain this agonising hold long enough.
Stable they seemed destined to stay too, for every ride Tara had hurried towards had been found with a que extending beyond the designated space.
“Ugh!” Tara groaned, “We’ll only get on, like, one ride at this rate.”
Milly sipped at her newly filled water bottle, no longer that thirsty after downing the smoothie, “If we just gotten in line before instead of looking for another one, maybe we’d have done one already by now.”
“You’re right…” Tara sighed, dejected. She perked up again though, making a fist and grinning, “but if we only get to do one, we’re gonna make it the best one! The Serpent’s Kiss!”
There was a line as long as any of them had been for “The Serpent’s Kiss,” but according to Tara it was one of the fastest coasters in the state. It featured five loops and an extended plummeting section, in which the carriage went almost totally vertical.
Milly was pretty nervous, but with Tara’s encouragement she agreed to give it a go, and both were certain Filie would love it.
Truly, she would have, it sounded incredibly exciting! There was just one, little, pounding, boiling, churning, not-so-little problem currently crushing her urethral sphincter. That was why she knew she had to find some way to make this worthwhile.
Out the corner of her eye she spotted the solution, ice cream! Filie had tried this once before when they’d first arrived in Florida and were adjusting to the heat. Though technically a food item, this confection would end up entirely liquid after consumption.
She had to get Milly to buy one, even if it meant her enduring the additional intake along with her. The ice cream should be an easy sell, with the lengthy que ahead, and had to guarantee Milly would be needing a pit-stop by the time it was over! Filie just hoped she would be able endure the “fastest coaster in the state” without making it the wettest too.
Okay, let’s do this. Filie turned to her only hope and opened her mouth, “Would you like to get some-?”
“Wow! Are you sure?” Tara gasped at three strangers, one of which was handing her what looked like additional tickets.
“Mhm!” Smiled a woman with a strong Florida accent, “We paid for the whole day, but we’ve already been on everything.”
“Still,” Milly replied, having not noticed Filie, “It’s really generous of you.”
One of her two friends continued, “We live right ‘round the corner,” he said, “We come here all the time, don’t mention it.”
The woman continued, “It’s either we give ‘em to you three or they go to waste!”
“That’s awesome, thank you!” Tara cried, overjoyed, passing the tickets back to Milly and Filie.
Filie’s face fell as she read the bold, flashy font. “W-What’s a… Fast-Pass?”
“It means we get to skip the ques, come on!” Milly giggled, yanking Filie along as she hurried after Tara towards the separate, Fast-Pass ride entry.
The ice cream stand disappears from Filie’s view, the steps up to the ride battering her overworked system without mercy. The trembling little toilet feels her life flash before her eyes, as if suspended in a yellow tide.
(to be concluded...) |
Haley adjusted the strap of her baby blue bikini as she crossed the bridge towards the beach, yellow towel in hand. She had wondered momentarily before leaving the house if the strappy swimsuit was a little too revealing for such a small, sleepy town, but someone had to bring a little bit of style and sensuality to Stardew Valley, and it might as well be her. She was proud of her body, after all, so she might as well show it off a little.
Once she arrived at the beach, she spread out her towel in the sand and laid down on her stomach, hoping to get a little sun on the backs of her thighs to balance out the tan she’d gotten started on her front while napping outside her house the other day. Something about the sun just tended to put Haley to sleep as soon as she got comfortable, and today was no different; she felt herself beginning to drift off as soon as she got settled, only pausing for a moment before closing her eyes to note the slight twinge of her bladder as her stomach pressed down against the towel. She had drank copious amounts of water that morning, aware that she’d probably dehydrate herself if she laid out in the sun too long without it, but she figured she could probably head back to the house to pee once she started to get sick of the heat.
An hour later, Haley woke with a start and quickly realized her mistake.
That twinge in her bladder? While she napped, it had become much more than a twinge; as she blinked into awareness, feeling the heat of the sun against her back and thighs, Haley realized she was absolutely desperate to pee, and if she did not get up and find somewhere to go very, very soon it would be too late.
The sound of the waves against the beach about ten yards away was certainly not helping. With each whoosh of the water onto the sand, Haley had to stop herself from imagining how it might feel to let go and release her own gush of liquid. She shifted a little, trying to decide the best way to turn over and sit up without jostling her extremely full bladder, but the movement only increased her urgency, and she had to close her eyes tight for a moment and clench every muscle she could to keep from letting anything leak out then and there.
At the mortifying thought of wetting her swimsuit, Haley stealthily peered around her to see who would be witnesses if the worst truly happened. The beach was mercifully mostly empty; she saw who she thought must be Leah off in the cove gathering corals or something - yuck - and Jodi and her kid playing in the surf, but they were far enough away that she couldn’t make out any details. The closest person to her location was the new farmer in town, who appeared to be fishing on the shore not too far from where Haley lay, but who was thankfully looking in the opposite direction.
I’m not going to wet myself like a little girl, Haley thought determinedly, but at least if I did, I wouldn’t have too much of an audience.
She felt another sudden spasm in her bladder, and realized it was time to act if she didn’t want to start pissing herself right where she lay. Pursing her lips and holding her pelvic muscles tight with all of her might, Haley rolled over to her front and quickly sat up on her towel. However, the rapid movement must have caused the liquid to slosh around inside her, because she suddenly felt a little bit of pee leak out despite how intently she was trying to hold it all in. She gave a sharp gasp at the sensation, her hand shooting down between her legs to grab herself and try to hold any more back from spilling out of her. She just barely managed to stop the leak from turning into a flow, but she felt a small patch of warm wetness against her hand where she had it shoved tightly against her swimsuit-covered labia, and after reluctantly releasing herself she looked down and was horrified to see an obvious wet spot near the front of her bikini.
Fuck, she thought, biting her lip in desperation. Now I definitely can’t let anyone see me. That’s unmistakably a pee spot.
Her leg bounced up and down where she sat as Haley tried to plan out her next move, feeling more frantic by the second. At this rate, there was no way she would be able to make it back to her house without an accident, and there was also a much higher chance of running into someone she knew if she attempted the walk back. She was petrified for a moment at the hypothetical scenario that popped into her head of her losing control on the bridge or the road and all of the pee gushing out of her while Alex or her sister looked on in horror. No, she would not let that happen - there would have to be another way out of this situation.
She became aware once again of the sound of the waves, which continued to heighten her desperation but also caused an idea to pop into her head. Maybe she should just go pee in the ocean? She usually avoided actually going into the water - the thought of fish brushing against her freaked her out, and she’d worked too hard on getting her hair perfect for it to get wet - but she realized at this point there might be no other option.
However, as though her body was determined to betray her, as soon as the idea came to her head the pressure in her bladder reached a new level of urgency, and Haley suddenly and despairingly realized she wasn’t going to make it. She stood up and took her first step towards the water, but as soon as she did so she doubled over as another large leak seemed to fall right out of her. This one had more power behind it than the first one, and she heard a small hiss as the pee shot through her bikini and onto the sand, leaving a conspicuous dark spot where it landed.
Haley managed to clench tightly and stem the flow for a moment more, but as she tried to take another step, another brief stream of pee gushed out of her, leaving another dark spot on the sand just inches away from the first. She tried taking a few more steps, with the same results each time - step, spurt, step, spurt - before she realized there was no use; it was all going to come gushing out of her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it.
With one last quick, desperate peek around to make sure no one was looking her way, Haley quickly pulled the soaking crotch of her swimsuit off to the side, so that at least it wouldn’t get any more pee-drenched than it already was. She couldn’t stop the gush from starting as she did so, hot pee spilling onto her hand as she moved the fabric out of the way and exposed her dripping labia to the open air.
The feeling of relief as she at last let go was indescribable. Haley’s face reddened in shame at the thought of how she must look as the strong stream of liquid poured out of her, desperately pissing all over her legs and the sand with her pussy bared to the world, the hiss and splattering sound loud enough to be audible over the waves.
It felt like she must have been going for over a minute. The sand couldn’t soak it up fast enough, and Haley winced a bit at the splashing sound of the puddle forming around her feet. Finally her stream began to slow, until a few final bursts came out of her that turned into small drips until her bladder was completely empty.
Oh. My. God. she thought, taking a deep breath of embarrassment as she shook herself off and moved the drenched crotch of her bikini bottom back into place. I literally cannot believe I just pissed all over myself in public.
Haley knew she had to do something about the obvious evidence on her swimsuit of what had happened - not to mention the drops that were still making their way down her legs - so she briskly walked back to her towel and wrapped it around her lower half, planning to go take a quick dip in the ocean to clean off the wet, pissy mess she’d made of herself.
She tried to look inconspicuous as she approached the surf, and she noticed as her feet touched the waves that the farmer was no longer fishing and was instead putting away the last of their supplies in the tackle box behind them, which they’d probably been doing for a while. That meant they had been facing in her direction without her noticing… Oh God, thought Haley, how much did they see?
However, she didn’t get an answer to her question as the farmer finished packing up and left with a wink and a wave, and Haley waited until they were far enough away not to see her in any detail before she let her towel drop and walked into the water to get clean, promising herself that she would never again let herself drift off for a nap without emptying her bladder first. |
The claustrophobic walls and floor of this narrow space jumped and bobbed with every bump, the seats jolting upwards as well, in a way that would be, and was, very hard on the rears of any sitting down. Sitting in the back of this truck was not a pleasant ride as it lugged and shook through the streets of Tokyo. Though, with the delicate curtains, hardwood detailing, and gentle lighting provided by the lanterns suspended from the curtain rods, there were worse places to be held captive.
This was where two members of the illustrious Imperial Combat Revue's Flower Division suffered with each bounce. The Flower Division captain, Seijuro Kamiyama, being transported as a prisoner by Mr. I of the World Luxury Operatic Federation, or WLOF, under suspicion of being a spy for the demons. It was a pretty imprudent arrest, given that he wasn't the first member of the Grand Imperial Theater to be accused of this exact treasonous act. Kamiyama wasn't stupid, he could smell something fishy with WLOF's actions.
And if he were to expose President G's corruption, he wouldn't have to do it alone. Of course, he could count on his team to stand by him, but more directly, he wasn't the only one in the back of the truck. Sitting by his side was the youngest member of the Flower Division in her usual yellow-and-purple maid dress, the ninja, Azami Mochizuki. She had previously been the one under suspicion of espionage, so being caught tailing WLOF agents was more than enough to have her fingered as an accomplice.
Though, she seemed down. Azami always had a stern face, those first meeting her could call her sour by expression alone, but Kamiyama knew this was quite a mark more glum than usual. Of course, she had reason to be upset. "I'm sorry. It's my fault you got arrested, Captain." With her hands bound behind her back, all she could do was hang her head in shame.
"Okay, the only one left is that masked renegade," said either the truck driver or the person in the passenger seat, muffled by the wall between the two groups. "We'll use the two in the back as bait. That'll lure him out." They referred to Azami's ninja master, Yattansai, who wore a mask when he came to Ginza to check on his pupil. Kamiyama and Azami's meetings with him was Mr. I's primary evidence pointing to them as spies, because being a demon was the only reason someone would wear a mask.
Kamiyama smiled. "It's all part of the plan." Azami's eyes widened, and she turned her head to look at her captain with wonder in her eyes. "If we stay put, they'll take us right to Yattansai. We got him tangled up in this, so we have to help him out, right?"
"Y-yeah!" Smiling, Azami looked back down at her lap. "I'm...impressed. I made a terrible mistake, getting caught, but you still built a plan around it." All of a sudden, her mood dropped again, and she shook her head with a forlorn expression. "And then there's me... A failure of a ninja." She shuffled in her seat, rubbing her legs together and wiggling her butt.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
Azami's heart dropped into her stomach. Had she been found out? Immediately, she deflected the question. "Village Rule #81: No prying into a maiden's private matters!"
"Um...okay then. I was just wondering why you were so down." Normally, Azami took such delight in being a ninja, seeing her beat herself up was concerning. As her captain, it was Kamiyama's duty to check up on her.
Oh, that's what he had meant. Azami stayed quiet. She had always been so proud of her ninja training, the Mochizuki legacy her skills embodied, but she had felt unsure in them as of late. Her master was just so much more skilled than she was, the Imperial Combat Revue was only just rising out of being Tokyo's laughing stock thanks to Kamiyama and Anastasia's efforts, and she was still making such amateur mistakes like "getting caught by WLOF goons".
But she had her other reason to feel nervous and uncomfortable, one that she could only alleviate by inching her legs closer together. Not that this helped an incredible amount, but it subdued her whining bladder for the time being. A bladder that had only made its burden known as she arrived in Ginza Odori, on her way to the Rooftop Amusement Park to meet with her master.
At the time, it was something she simply overlooked. She was a ninja, she went on long reconnaissance missions, she knew the importance of being able to hold urine and could do so well. This would be a quick meeting with her master, and she would be back at the theater soon. But then Captain Kamiyama followed her, that led to a conversation between him and Yattansai, extending Azami's stay longer than she had anticipated. By the time she and Kamiyama left, Azami was already deeply uncomfortable, now having to make a conscious effort to keep him in the dark about this little problem.
In fact, it had been this desire to relieve herself that had prompted Azami to split from her captain, saying she had "errands to run". In truth, it was an excuse to run back to the theater ahead with her superior ninja speed, use the bathroom, and meet back up with him, none the wiser. Even weighed down by an, erm, "need", she still zipped back to the theater in usual time. And was promptly captured by Mr. I.
Looking at it objectively, not that much time had passed. But that time had allowed her bladder to fill quite well, not helped by Azami being a bit on the small side for her age. By the time she was thrown into the back of the truck, where she didn't have to move, she was keeping her legs pressed together through intermittent squeezes, feeling the webbing of her fishnet bodysuit press and indent against the skin of her thighs with each squeeze. At least her dress, extending down to her knees, did its job in hiding these small thrusts from view.
Because, what was she supposed to do? Clue her captain in on what was ailing her? The dependable ninja of the Flower Division, Azami Mochizuki, having to come clean and say she was worried because she had to go pee? What kind of ninja would do that? What kind of real ninja would possibly be held up by a dilemma as minor as this? "I'm hopeless... Maybe I'll never be a real ninja. I'm not as strong as my master, I can't use ninjutsu like him, I'm just weak. I'm just a fake ninja."
"What's wrong with that?" Hearing something so foolish, but so earnest, from her captain certainly caught Azami's attention. When she looked up, there was Kamiyama, looking down at her with a gentle smile. "You don't have to be a real ninja. You're still great at what you do. Who cares if you're ‘real' or ‘fake'?"
"Thanks. I know you're trying to help. But, I...I don't want to be a fake. I want to be a real ninja, like my master." Kamiyama wanted to be supportive, but it was hard to take his words to heart when he had proven to know so little about ninjas. At the very least, Azami felt there was merit in becoming a real ninja: it meant she was capable, and meant that all her training had merit. If she became a real ninja, her parents would surely be proud of her, when they came back from their important mission.
Azami steeled her heart with a deep breath. If she wanted to be a real ninja, to make her master proud, she had to be strong. This not only meant she had to be able, as both a person and a fighter, and not panic even as she remained prisoner without a plan, but more relevant to these current circumstances, she needed to maintain a hold over her urine. This was something she had learned long ago: "panicking is death in this line of work", and it was just as true in the context of her secondary concern.
Still, that was easier said than done. As she stood now, it was just a warm mass by her stomach, sloshing around as much as it could. It was at that weird middle-ground where it wasn't painful, she didn't feel like she was in any immediate danger of wetting herself, but she was still very full and her bladder very heavy. She was looking for a bathroom, and were she to find one now, she'd hurry on in. If no one were looking, naturally.
However, just because she wasn't on the verge of losing it all, didn't mean she wasn't being constantly teased with the possibility. She wore a fishnet bodysuit beneath her clothes, one that extended from her neck to her feet. For convenience, Azami wore her underwear above the bodysuit; if it were below, she'd have to take off the whole thing any time she needed to pee. The mesh of the suit was not composed of thick strings, mobility was imperative, but they were still present enough that her panties were stretched out and resting atop the added garment, a tangible gap between them and her "parts".
Because of this, her urethra had no cloth pressed directly against it. This had been how she dressed for a long time, yet it seemed there was some natural instinct that would never be quelled. Letting that lower region breathe free a little gave the mental impression that she had nothing covering her bottoms, and if she had nothing covering them, she must have pulled everything off to use the toilet, sending her bladder a signal that all would be well soon. She had learned not to use the communal bath when she needed to pee.
All this meant that her aching bladder took over more and more of her mental faculties. Part of her ninja training was the ability to induce tunnel-vision at will, to see nothing but her target, no matter her own physical state or surroundings. It was an invaluable skill when it came to long pursuits and stakeouts, but no matter the practice, Azami had her limits, and nothing could change that. And right now, once she was already thinking about it, she just couldn't get her mind off the need to pee. All she could picture in her mind's eye was a glass, filled with golden water, being swirled around by an unseen hand, small ripples of the water lapping over the cup's edge and dripping down the outside.
"Mmgh..." A powerful voice, one that rung out a succinct "just give in", echoed through the truck, heard only to Azami. She shifted her bottom in her seat and lightly squealed, and that was just about the extent of what she could do without being obvious. She couldn't even covertly hold her crotch enough to do anything, not with her sleeves the way they were. In order to conceal more weapons on her person, the sleeves of her dress went far past her wrists and completely covered her hands, so pressing them against her lap meant multiple layers of fabric weakening the impact. Though she could mildly knock her knees together, for the most part, she had to just bear with it, hold out with nothing more than mental fortitude.
Yet, no matter his own challenges, Captain Kamiyama stayed strong. He could keep smiling, lead with conviction, and never give up no matter the harsh circumstances that faced him. Granted, Azami had to assume that Kamiyama wasn't dealing with the exact same predicament she experienced, but he was still a prisoner in just the same way as her. Yet, he had faith that all would be well. Azami needed some of that positivity if she wanted to stay strong. "Hey, Captain, how do you do what you do? It's just that, sometimes it's hard to see what keeps you going. You brought the Imperial Theater back to its former glory, you led us to defeat the Shanghai Combat Revue, you take these impossible tasks and turn them around like they're not even a worry. Where does that confidence come from?"
Kamiyama shook his head. "I'm not that confident, though. I feel as if I grapple with my own doubts at every turn. But I can't let it show, as your captain, so I put on a brave face."
"Really?" Truthfully, for the time she had known him, Azami had trusted her captain. Yet, he admitted that he had been winging it. "But what if something went wrong?"
"Well, that's always a possibility, but I've got a safety net."
Azami tilted her head, quizzically. "A safety net?"
"Yeah. I've got all of you. I can aim for the sky because I know you girls can do it." Looking down at the ninja, Kamiyama smiled. "You're my real strength, Azami."
Blushing, Azami's heart skipped a beat, and her words failed her. She was doubting herself, and Kamiyama says he trusts her wholeheartedly. She had always found the members of the Imperial Combat Revue to be friendly, but this may have been the nicest thing any of them had said to her.
Just that was enough to renew the fire of Azami's soul, a fire indicated by her stern, resolute face. If her captain trusted her implicitly, she had to be a ninja worthy of that trust, one that was tough and dependable. Of course, that meant that she couldn't be weakened by her bladder's needs. Her bladder's very strong, very loud needs. And even if it were something that bothered her, she just had to put on a brave face and deal with it.
She would soon be tested on her composure, when the truck came to a sudden, jarring halt. For once, Azami's honed reflexes failed her, and the force of the abrupt stop sent her tumbling sideways into Kamiyama; she would have landed head-first into his lap had he not quickly leaned forward and blocked her with his side. "Woah, careful there. Wasn't expecting you to get knocked around like that, Azami."
Azami had a perfectly logical reason for being off her game, just one that she wasn't about to divulge. And that reason was flaring up something hard in her tummy thanks to the jolt, her bladder going into overdrive with its demand. Now, it made an active effort to force out its warm fluid contents, pulsing and quivering under the weight of its own desperation. If she were alone, she would have little choice but to grab her crotch and physically resist.
But she couldn't, not with her captain watching her. And she soon felt the repercussions for her sense of shame, as a shot of fiery heat surged through her lower parts and sprayed out for a fraction of a second. That was more than enough of a leak to quite dramatically soak into her panties, and while the separation between the underwear and her girlhood kept her from feeling the dampness as a constant reminder, she couldn't simply escape the consequences of her little lapse in control, when small drips clung to her person in the aftermath, in addition to the lingering sensation of the fluids that had shot through her urethra mere seconds prior.
It wasn't that Azami wasn't prepared for the possibility that she would spring a leak; it was a natural outcome from continuing to hold a very full bladder, an outcome that she had experienced herself many a time when ninja training went on a little too long. Because of this past, she knew that a sprinkle like this one was an indicator, a warning that she only had so much time before the floodgates burst open. How long, she couldn't say, but the clock was ticking. All she could do to slow the inevitable was concentrate, as vague a mission as that was.
She was so focused on concentration, she missed the sounds of the truck's cabin doors opening and slamming shut, and the footsteps of the driver and passenger getting more distant. Kamiyama heard it, though, and he sprung to action. "Mr. I and his men are gone... Okay, let's go help Yattansai!"
It was that declaration that broke the ninja's trance, and brought her close to another spurt. This time, she maintained control, if only just. She wanted nothing more than to attend to nature's call, but her skills were needed here. "But how?"
Looking around the truck, Kamiyama jumped to his feet, not an easy task with his hands still tied behind his back. Then it became apparent that he had jumped the gun, because he started looking around for something to use, without a goal in mind. "There's got to be a way out somehow..." Looking at the attached seats, the barred windows, the sealed door between the bed and the cabin, he ostensibly considered every option available to him. And then proceeded to shoulder-tackle the back door like that was the best course of action. The truck shook with each blow, but the door was never going to budge.
Kamiyama was a dedicated man, so he kept at it. It took Azami getting up and stopping him with her hand for him to give up. "Don't hurt yourself, Captain."
"Gah... But if we don't hurry, Yattansai will be in danger, when we..." It was only then that he noticed how Azami had stopped him: with her hand. When they were captured, their hands were bound behind their backs, yet Azami had her drooping sleeves naturally at her side. "Wait... How did you get free?"
"I'm a ninja," Azami boasted, waving her hands around freely to make a point. "Slipping out of bindings is easy." The rope cuffs were uncomfortable and chafed her wrists, Azami unshackled herself very early on. The only reason she kept her hands behind her back was an exercise in self-control; keeping her hands as far away from her crotch as she could, it was easier to resist the constant urge to hold herself openly, as well as ensuring it wouldn't happen inadvertently.
Now that she could no longer use the shackles as an excuse, she needed something else to occupy her hands, and she filled that void by untying her captain. It was an act of common courtesy that could have been done sooner, but regardless, Kamiyama was thankful. "Whew... Glad to be out of those."
"No problem. Do you want me to open the door for us?"
"Y-you can do that?!" Kamiyama was expecting Azami to pull out some super-secret ninja tools from some concealed pocket in her dress and pick the lock on the back door.
Not to say she couldn't, but Azami went the easier route: jumping to a hatch on the ceiling and slipping through before Kamiyama's eyes could even follow her up. If he had learned one thing as her captain, it was that her ninja training must have taught her to avoid doors, because she always entered and exited a room by way of the ceiling.
There were advantages to being on the truck's roof, where she could bask in the bright sun and fresh air. But there was also the reality that her jump, one over three times her short height, was a real jostle on her body. More specifically, her bladder was not at all happy at the sudden gravitational force pushing the high volume right against the escape route pipe that remained woefully closed. Cue another surge of pain that she really just had to slam her legs together to weather. "Nngh... Mmph! Mmph!"
Not helping was where the truck had parked: Mikasa Memorial Park, a frequently-visited destination for the general public that still hadn't installed public restrooms. Were she to do something about her little problem here, that would entail... "No, I can't. Now is a really bad time." Not that she was strictly opposed to urinating outdoors, but this was neither the time nor place.
She didn't want to give up already, but Azami had to think ahead. The way her bladder stretched and whined, she had to consider: what would she do, should the very real possibility that she wet herself come to pass. Though there were a few stage performances that ended in surprisingly close calls for the little ninja, she hadn't actually peed her pants in a very long time. Reconnaissance missions frequently had her watching her targets from the shadows of rooftops, alleys, and thickets of brush, all places she could relieve herself in secrecy should she need to. Or, rather, when she would inevitably need to.
But what if she wet herself now? What if everyone in the Flower Division saw her wearing a wet dress? She couldn't see any of them mocking her for it, that was a comforting thought, she could just imagine Sakura and Claris consoling her with hugs and gentle pats, while Hatsuho said something like "happens to everyone at least once". But, to Azami, that was almost worse. If they told her all was okay, smiling while taking special considerations "for her sake", then she wasn't an equal.
And how would Kamiyama react? How would he lead a ninja who had an accident? He probably wouldn't put her on the next Combat Revue World Games team. He'd make a concerted effort to watch out for her during the next demon raid. He'd get uncomfortable every time he looked at her, thinking back to that moment. The association was clear: she wet herself, she'd be lesser in the eyes of her comrades. She wouldn't be a true member of the Imperial Combat Revue, and she wouldn't be a true ninja.
But thinking about it wasn't getting her anywhere. And letting thoughts dampen her mood only brought the dampening of her underwear ever closer. Azami shook her head, hoping to dislodge any downer ideas. Her energy was instead better spent jumping down around the back, turning the latches, and swinging the door open. Only after straightening herself out so she looked unassuming and unconcerned.
Even with all that, she had been so quick, Kamiyama was still staring at the ceiling hatch, and the daylight streaming into the storeroom was needed to spin him around and get his attention. "Wow, that fast? You really do have ninja skills," he praised, jumping out of the truck onto the pavement. Azami blushed and smiled a little at the compliment. "Okay, let's get going. We have to go help Yattansai."
He would have run off then and there, were it not for Azami reaching out and tugging on the rolled-up sleeve of his white dress shirt like a nervous child. "Wait... There's one thing I want to ask you." She shuffled her feet, for reasons beyond mere timidity. "Do you think I'll ever be a true master, Captain?" She wanted to just be confident, really, but it wasn't easy under this kind of stress.
Gently, Kamiyama knelt down before Azami, looking her deep in the eyes and smiling. "You're already a master. At least, you are to me." Azami's cheeks went pink, her pupils began to shake and avoid eye contact, but Kamiyama kept talking. "I've seen what you're capable of. No matter what anyone else thinks, I have faith in you." Getting back to the mission, he got back up and went back to searching the park.
But that declaration of faith was all Azami needed to hear. "Yes, I'm a ninja," she whispered to herself. "Even if nobody else believes in ninjas, I am one. And a true ninja doesn't pee herself. So, it's not going to happen. I just need to be-"
An ear-splitting bang rang through the air, sending Kamiyama into a jump of surprise, doubling the speed at which he whipped his head around in frantic looking. "Was that a gunshot?!"
Azami didn't jump, her training had suppressed those reactions, but that didn't mean the sudden noise didn't affect her. Quite the contrary. The shock of something so quick and loud, from a source so dangerous, finally split the first cracks in her wall. Like a single drop of rain seeping through an inadequate roof and plunging to the floor of a dead silent room, the ninja was acutely aware of the warm urine now dribbling into her panties, short as the trickle was. She was spared the terrible sensation of wet fabric constantly pressed against her private parts, but the tepid liquid stuck directly to those delicate folds was no better.
It wasn't so much the physical awareness that scared Azami, but the implications it brought with it. "I...I leaked..." It was bad form for a ninja to pee herself, for so many reasons. For how long one may be required to stand still, it would just be uncomfortable to sit in wet clothes. The stench of urine could both mask one's own senses and draw the attention of trackers, as could a hypothetical trail of drips in the aftermath. And Azami had broken that rule. And she'd be breaking it even more before too long. Panic was beginning to overtake her, she was now visibly worried. "He knows. He has to notice by now." In actuality, Azami was as stone-faced as ever, her eyes were just a bit wide, already an underplayed reaction to hearing a gunshot.
Kamiyama wasn't even looking at her, when there were more pressing matters. "Let's go, Azami!" With no hesitation or show of fear, the captain ran off towards the source of the shot.
And Azami had to follow, matching speed. "O-on it!" Ordinarily, matching Kamiyama's running speed would be a casual stroll for her, it was just a little straining to do so at the moment. "Focus on something else, focus on something else." She could look around the empty park on this beautiful sunny day all she wanted, but she just couldn't take that tranquility into herself, not with everything she was already fighting to keep inside herself. If anything, her inner turmoil was better represented by the one thing disturbing that peace: Mr. I and four of his black-suited, sunglass-wearing goons, pointing guns at a lone old man. "Master!"
With guns in the equation, she couldn't just jump in out of nowhere and startle everyone, and Kamiyama knew this as well. As such, the two members of the Combat Revue ducked behind one of the many stone flower troughs outlining the circle of grass in the center of the park. It was an easier task for Azami, being a foot-and-a-half shorter than her captain, yet even still, both would be spotted in an instant, were anyone looking. For the moment, Kamiyama made the best of their partial concealment to observe from a distance. "Yattansai..."
"He's okay. Master will be fine." Azami knew Yattansai to be a ninja master, bullets wouldn't be able to hit him, she had faith. The one she needed to be worried about was herself. In order to hide to her best, she needed to squat, a position that severely and painfully accentuated her need to pee. Even though she could clearly see nothing but concrete beneath her feet, the shine of a white porcelain toilet still appeared right where she wanted it, a mirage fueled by need.
If only Kamiyama weren't there. While even her training couldn't completely teach her the skill of "silent peeing", she could mask the sound well enough to keep hidden, at least for the moment. It wasn't very likely that someone would notice the massive puddle that would extend past the planter before she finished up, so she could still get the drop on them. But with Kamiyama so close... Well, that close, she'd probably pee on his leg if she just released without moving too much, but regardless, he'd have to be deaf not to notice. And, knowing Kamiyama, he'd freak out loudly, and they'd be caught in a second. "Captain, I think I should mov-"
"Damn... Stay here, Azami. I'll go help Yattansai!" With determination in his eyes, Kamiyama vaulted over the flower pot, jumping headfirst into danger.
"Wait, Captain!" She reached her hand out, but Azami couldn't stop him from doing something stupid. Yes, her wish had been granted, in that she had some privacy, but that problem was now replaced by an even bigger one: the reason she felt able to relieve herself at the moment was because she trusted her master would handle himself. But Kamiyama, against four men with guns... Now she needed to be prepared to jump in at any moment, so no panties down yet.
Though, actually, maybe she didn't need to be on such high alert. Right out the gate, Kamiyama slid into a crouch and performed a sweeping kick on one of the minions, knocking him off his feet and effectively putting him out of commission with a loud thud. Then, before the second guy could readjust his aim, he was taken down with a swift punch to the gut, followed immediately with the third goon subdued thanks to a roundhouse kick to the face. And then the final was bested with a jumping kick to throw off his aim, and a chop to the back of the neck.
Watching from a distance, Azami was in awe. "Captain, you're amazing." Even if a ninja master could do it better, it was still an impressive feat. She found herself blushing as she watching it all unfold. "He really is an amazing captain." Her heart fluttered, and she felt calm. Even with Mr. I still active, she felt confident that they would be fine.
"Ah!" In fact, maybe she had gotten too relaxed, when her bladder shared in the relaxation. As soon as she let her guard down, her carelessness was penalized with another warm spurt in her undergarments, enough to be worrying. Uncharacteristic for her, she panicked, and her emotions got the better of her. Namely, the emotional desire of not wanting to pee herself. In a flash of animal instinct, Azami reached down and quickly pulled her dress up, hands shooting like a bullet to push up her sleeves and slide her thumbs around her underwear to yank them down.
Of course, she was looking down as she prepared, meaning Azami could see the extent of the damage she had done already. Her white panties, adorned with a smattering of pink sakura petals in its design, had some moderate staining. Could be worse, but it was still a concerning amount of urine seeped into her clothes. She couldn't see it, but the ninja worried what the inner lining of her dress looked like now.
Well, if her clothes were dry, they wouldn't be for long, as she was surprised by a sudden, loud outburst from Mr. I. "Fine! No more games, you lying demon! WLOF's out for your blood now!" He didn't have a gun, but he sounded serious. And with the power WLOF held, it was a threat to fear. Maybe not now, but when the Grand Imperial Theater still hung on a thread, they couldn't afford to be making enemies like this.
To Azami, the answer was clear: not let Mr. I become their enemy. Without even weighing the options, she yanked her panties back up, wiggled them into place, and let her dress drop, readying herself to jump in. As she raised her head, however, she saw that she was not the only one who thought this was the time for action, as out of nowhere, a horse of WLOF minions in black suits rushed into the park, surrounding Kamiyama and Yattansai. Now, Kamiyama couldn't repeat his expert takedowns, and Azami wouldn't be able to efficiently take down her target. As such, she stayed put for now. She wouldn't move unless she could win.
"Nnph..." Of course, even sitting motionless, poor Azami was still fighting a losing battle. She could hear the waves of water crashing against the cliff walls that elevated Mikasa Memorial Park as the tide rose, just as the scene unfolded in her bladder. The memory of her coming so close to answering nature's call in this very spot was now haunting her, torturing her with the idea that she could resume at any time. But that opportunity had passed; with a conflict this volatile, she might need to step in at any second.
Things were starting to look dire for the little ninja. She wasn't unfamiliar with the sensation of a need to pee growing into something urgent, but she was proud of the fact that she hadn't wet herself in a very long time. Yet, as her desperation mounted higher, she began to fear that this dry streak would come to an end. Her cheeks puffed, her eyes watered, and every muscle she had began twitching and shivering as she kept her hands pressed against the crotch of her dress. Maybe it was just sweat, but she felt a dampness on her palms at the time.
Even as she fought against herself, Azami knew that her time dry was short. Well, she already wasn't "dry", but she was in a much better state than she would be if she wet herself, a fate fast approaching. "...this is bad." Holding it much longer could have any number of consequences, but she had lost her window to pee here. If she wanted relief, she'd need to get out of here, quietly. But with things the way they were regarding everyone besides her, leaving them behind was far from wise. But if she had some reason to escape, some justification for doing so, some excuse...
"Don't worry about us, Azami, just run! Remember Village Rule #108!"
Azami wasn't surprised that her master knew she was watching; he could sense her ninja presence. What surprised her was his request, the invocation of the Village Rules she lived her life by. "Village Rules #108... Survival is paramount, even if it means abandoning your allies..." There it was, told outright to get somewhere safe, somewhere she could comfortably pee. True, if she stayed, her clothes wouldn't survive, that was for sure.
But, as she poked her head out from behind the planter to watch, it became apparent that survival, in the more traditional definition, was the worry for her captain. More than a half-dozen flunkies, all pointing guns, with Kamiyama unable to do anything but stand there and wait. It wasn't looking pretty, that was for sure.
Azami didn't have to think. Using her ninja skills to their fullest, she leapt high into the air, flicking just the right muscles in her arm to dislodge the kunai hidden up her extended sleeves, sliding them one by one into her grip to throw down at the attackers. Each and every single one hit their mark, striking the barrels of each pistol, knocking them out of the hands of their wielders. With every one of them in shock and disbelief, none recovered their arms, allowing Azami to land between the two parties with a smooth crouch. Again, being so low to the ground tempted the ninja.
Her entrance was met with surprise, from both sides, though none were as vocal as Kamiyama. "Azami, why?!"
"I'm not going to abandon you and my master to die. Not for anything." And that wasn't a hypothetical "anything", she knew exactly what she was giving up. "That's not a rule I can follow!"
"Shoot her! Shoot the little brat!" The men in black had since picked up their guns, and Mr. I was ordering them to make use of them. Whether they all agreed with his views, or they simply feared his authority, Mikasa Memorial Park was soon a cacophony of ear-splitting bullets and muzzle flashes. And, with a metal kunai in each hand, Azami responded by intercepting each bullet with her blades, halting their flight with a shower of sparks and a satisfying clang. The bullets flew at the speed of sound, yet Azami flawlessly jumped and reached for each projectile, not a single slug got past her. Kamiyama watched in awe, and Yattansai nodded with pride.
Of course, the whole time, even as she performed perfectly, Azami was struggling. Not the bullet blocking, any self-respecting ninja could do that, but keeping tabs on her bloated bladder. Each jolt and each hop swayed the urine she continued to hold, crashing the heavy liquid mass against each inner wall with all its weight. It was quiet, but she squealed several times during the process, a lump in her throat climbing higher as she got closer and closer to a flood. But now, she had to resist that urge at all costs. No ninja master could wet themselves in front of friend and foe alike.
She caught a break when, perhaps having emptied their clips, the fire ceased. Perhaps they were just all too intimidated by the scornful stare Azami maintained throughout, knowing nothing of the emotion that hid behind it. Regardless, the lackeys all lowered their guns, some backing off with their hands trembling. And, secretly, she was happy for the reprieve. It came at just the right time, when a surge of burning pain exploded from her belly, shouting loud for the back row to hear, signaling something disastrous if she exerted herself any further. This lull gave her the chance to force her bladder into submission, for now.
None the wiser as to what his pupil was enduring, Yattansai chuckled as he stepped up next to the young ninja. "Heh heh... Good for you, Azami. Well now, ready to send these clowns packing?"
"Y-yes." But the fight wasn't over yet, and she couldn't rest easy. Hopefully, this finishing move wouldn't take too much from her. With perfect synchronization, master and student began extending their fingers and shifting their hands at a rapid pace, chanting an ancient spell. "Rin! Pyo! To! Sha! Kai! Jin! Retsu! Zai! Zen! Mochizuki ninjutsu! Spirit summon!"
As soon as their incantation was complete, a puff of smoke exploded in front of the ninjas, several times taller than any of them, forming a total wall between both sides. Kamiyama was already surprised at their recitation, and subsequently floored by the cloud's appearance, when nobody threw a smoke bomb or anything. So, he was absolutely flabbergasted when the wind blew the fumes away, and standing in their place was a massive toad and snake, each as tall as the captain himself in their crouched stances. "W-where did they come from?!"
"Don't worry, my master summoned it," Azami assured, looking back at Kamiyama. She tried to smile, but quickly realized she wasn't in much of a happy mood, and instead maintained her usual frown.
Kamiyama wasn't paying attention to her, still in awe regarding the toad. "Hold on a second! You mean he actually is a ninja?!"
Azami raised one of her thick eyebrows in confusion. "Of course he is. We've discussed it."
"And the truth comes out, demon scum," Mr. I shouted, as if he held an advantage, while waving on his subordinates. "Unload on them! Blast all the anti-demon rounds we've got! Fire!"
"Heh heh." Cracking a smirk and putting on a red eye mask, Yattansai flicked his wrists like he were shooing away an insect, commanding the toad to swat and the snake to whip the WLOF men with gale force winds. If there weren't incredible precision behind the move, he could have easily thrown them over the edge and killed them, but it incapacitated them regardless. In one fell swoop, only Mr. I stood, the scales having visibly shifted. Of course, he never stood a chance against two ninjas. "How ‘bout you? You still in this?"
Even if he wasn't happy about this outcome, Mr. I knew when he was beaten. Of course, he didn't concede gracefully, nor did he take back any of the serious accusations, he just ran away, leaving his dazed subordinates to fend for themselves. It would be a problem if Yattansai, Azami, or Kamiyama were actually demon sympathizers, as he claimed.
Though, even if she wanted to chase him down, Azami wasn't in much of a state to do so. It was great that they had won, but she had used up a majority of her strength in the process. Now, just about every drop she had left was being diverted to hold every drop she had left. And, judging by the state of her panties that she prayed no one would ever see, even that was a losing battle.
Now her mind had to shift gears, from "how can I hold it" to "where can I release it". The park still didn't have a restroom, but with just the three of them, her chances of hobbling somewhere private were much better. If she truly needed to, and she did, she could urinate outdoors here. But in a park this small, with two men she was close to, immediately following a tense confrontation, she couldn't just run off without a word. Actually, unless they were specifically instructed not to look in one particular direction, there was nowhere private enough to truly conceal just what Azami would be doing, should either look that way.
She wanted nothing more than to keep her captain in the dark regarding this particular maidenly urgency, but if she wanted to take care of it cleanly, something had to give. "C-Captain, Master, c-could I ask that you-"
"Azami." With just one word, her name, Yattansai commanded her attention. "Regardless of your reasons for doing so, your actions got consequences. You know that, right?"
"Y-yes, I'm aware." Granted, the consequences she had in mind were most likely quite different from what her master referred to.
"Give her a break," Kamiyama implored, stepping between Yattansai and Azami. "Azami's the one who saved us!"
"I know what I've d-done, and I'm ready to pay the p-price..." Under her dress, Azami knocked her knees together, quivering and shaking in her platform sandals. "But first, c-could I-"
"Then, Azami, as head of the Mochizuki school of ninjutsu, my sentence is as follows." He kept his back turned, building dread in the young ninja as to his judgment. Though, at some point, she became more frustrated at how much time he was taking. Thankfully, just as she was thinking that, he spun around and dramatically ripped off his mask. "I pronounce you a true master!"
To say that caught Azami off-guard would be an understatement. It would have been a great surprise, if it didn't result in yet another spurt. "Huh?"
"Folks like us live our lives in the shadows, but we can't let those same shadows consume us. You broke the rules to protect what's important to you. And if you ask me, that's worth bein' proud of. So, from now on, forget the rules. Listen to your heart instead. You hear me, Azami?"
Azami heard him. She heard every single, solitary, weighty word, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. She was grateful for her master's proud words, and she was honored, truly, but now really wasn't the best time. Her right foot tapped the ground impatiently a dozen times a second, the grass she was currently standing on thankfully absorbing the sound. She could let becoming a ninja master sink in later, right now, she just needed to pee something crazy.
But now even that had been made more difficult. All of a sudden, she was a ninja master, a title that carried with it many responsibilities and expectations, and she was totally unprepared for that. Her literal first action as a master couldn't be to run off with her hands buried in her crotch, begging to not be looked at, on her way to urinate in public.
Still, would it be better if her first act as a master was to thoroughly soak her dress? Surely no one in their right mind would accept her as a master if that happened. So, while it might be momentarily embarrassing, and she'd have to carry it for a long time, still better to do something about it now. "P-please, could I j-just-"
"Kamiyama!" From above suddenly boomed the voice of the Imperial Combat Revue commander, Sumire Kanzaki, from their airship, the Skywhale, a zeppelin that had somehow snuck up on them as it hovered in the sky. "We've got an emergency!" Azami couldn't disagree. "You need to rescue Amamiya and the others at once!"
Azami could only watch in dread as a rope dropped from the gondola of the Skywhale, beckoning them to climb aboard. She couldn't dawdle, not when Sakura and the others were in trouble, but going up there would spell the end of dry clothes for her. It wasn't that the Skywhale didn't have bathrooms, because it did, just ones out of reach for her. As a proud member of the Flower Division, she'd be climbing aboard and preparing to deploy without a second to rest. And, once she was locked into combat... She just didn't have the time.
But her friends didn't have time, either. They could all be in real danger; if she took her time jumping into action, she'd be putting their lives at risk, and that was something a true master couldn't abide. "We have to hurry, Captain." Her mind made up, Azami waddled over to the rope and grabbed tightly. Notably, she locked herself in place with crossed feet hugging the cable, keeping her legs slammed closely together, the thick braiding rubbing against, pressing tightly into, her crotch.
Further back, Kamiyama prepared to follow and lead his troupe into battle, until Yattansai stopped him by grabbing his upper arm. "Kamiyama, looks to me like some of Azami's walls are finally comin' down. You take care of her, you hear?"
"...r-right!" Kamiyama really had little clue what he was talking about, but he had sworn to protect the Flower Division under his command, so he couldn't disagree with the old man's request. So, to make good on his promise, he ran to the dangling wire and held on tight, as the two were reeled up into the Skywhale.
From high above the park, Azami looked down in distress, watching all that grass that she could have watered grow further and further away. Eventually, she had to close her eyes and shake the thoughts out of her head. "A true ninja has to fight until the very end."
---------------
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go tear some screams out of your friends' throats! Think you'll get there in time for their last goodbyes? I love a good race against the clock!" It wasn't long after the two boarded the Skywhale that they were deployed into the dark orb enveloping what used to be Ueno Park, on a mission to rescue their comrades from the greater demon, Oboro.
And Azami was still just bursting to go. There just wasn't a second to breathe that she could make good use of, and in light of the circumstances, she couldn't very well ask. So, here she was, sitting in the cockpit of her Mugen-class spiricle striker mecha, right leg firmly crossed down over the left, repeatedly angling inwards to apply more pressure to her groin. Her hands had to be occupied piloting the machine, so she just had to hope that was enough and bear with the pain, leaning forward and gritting her teeth, tears shimmering in the corners of her eyes.
And it was a lot of pain to endure. It would be bad by anyone's standards, but when it was in the bladder of the small Azami Mochizuki, it was unbearable. Any sane person would have wet themselves long before now, but this ninja was still holding on. After all, if she had held out this long, surely it was just a matter of outlasting her boiling need until all this was over, she could bolt back to the theater, where she could squat and spray in the women's room.
She very much doubted that happening. As it stood now, poor little Azami was filled to the brim with steaming hot pee, burning a hole through her very core as it bulged through the gaps in her fishnet bodysuit, forming an immediately apparent lump that stretched the fabric of her white-and-yellow combat dress, a dress she worried would be made even more yellow before this fight was over, soaking into the white stockings new to this outfit.
And her pilot attire, which she was forced to be changed into to better harness her spirit power to pilot the Mugen, had one other difference from her usual clothing that made a difference now: to compensate for the much shorter skirt on this dress, she wore a pair of tight black compression shorts beneath to cover everything that would need covering. But, they were so tight, they pressed her wet panties closer to herself, forcing her to experience the lukewarm dampness emanating from her undergarments closer than ever before. It was inescapable, not just because of proximity, but quantity. She had leaked so much, all in the name of keeping the rest in her distended, bloated bladder, that the white fabric would need a thorough washing to regain its correct color.
"Ah!" And there went another, dripping down her leg when her underwear had no further ability for retention. Her cheeks bloomed red, glistening with sweat, as she separated her legs for a brief split-second to clamp them together again with a lock. Her lower body trembled, she squeezed her private parts shut, wringing some of the fluids out of her panties into her shorts, anything that could keep her peehole closed. It was the only barrier left against the boiling mass of urine threatening to rupture her insides.
She was trained, she was resolute, but Azami was still a 13-year-old girl, and there was only so far human limits could take her. She could just feel the end upon her, as the muscles in her abdomen gave out with a sudden drop. The high tension she carried seemed to dissipate as her upper body limped forward, shaking the moisture from her forehead and eyes. "I'm sorry, Captain."
"A-Azami?" Though they were in separate machines, an always-open communications channel kept the members of the Flower Division connected. But, while he heard the apology, Kamiyama had no context as to what Azami was sorry for. He began imagining the worst.
He didn't have to imagine for long, because that wasn't the end of the sounds coming through the transmission. Of course, it was nothing compared to how it sounded from the other end. Inside Azami's cockpit, echoing inside the narrow metal walls and off all the instruments, was first the hiss of a pressurized hose spraying through the centimeters of open air, splashing against her panties, and pooling against the saturated cotton faster than it could seep through. All of this was extremely loud, and given how few explanations there could be for the sound of running water in a place like this, even a not-too-bright guy like Kamiyama got the picture very quickly.
But knowing what plagued Azami was only a part of the picture, nothing could match the physical sensations that she had to bear. There was the hot liquid tracing its way down her crotch and thighs, sticking to her "flower petals", which then transformed into something just as bad as it discolored the rims of her white stockings, dyed yellow further down the more time that passed. The front of her skirt, which laid lax in her lap, did just touch the pool below, but it was a waterproof material that caught none of it.
Which meant the puddle remained undisturbed as it expanded in her seat, filling the seams in the upholstery and rising higher, sinking her butt deeper into the dirty bath. When the rear-end indentation of the seat overflowed, the excess dribbled down the lip of the front and rained onto the floor in many spread-out trickles, pooling on the metal floor. A deep golden color, reflecting the tinted lights that flashed in the cockpit. In the confines of the pilot's seat, the pungent aroma circulated in the stale air.
Azami was frozen, mortified. It would have been bad enough with just the knowledge that she had wet herself if she could have done so cleanly, but having to sit in the mess she made as it grew and devastated her lower clothes, sticking to her skin like condensation to the outside of a cold drink glass, and having her contents spilled all over the insides of this expensive piece of machinery, and having it all heard by her captain, a man she respected, it was a lot to take in.
With that in mind, it was no surprise that her mind went blank as the flood persisted. She simply hung her head, let her eyebrows fall, and puffed her cheeks ever-so-slightly. She was fully aware of the shame transpiring below her, cups of it, but she just didn't react. The light vanished from her eyes as she just died inside, the lights inside the cockpit growing dim. She couldn't fight herself without losing, what was the point of trying to fight anything else?
"Azami!" However, her depressed trance was broken by the forceful shout of Kamiyama through the radio, which was more than enough to shake her out of her funk. Her eyes widened, her head shot up in surprise, shaking the sweat off her face, and she finally saw what was happening through the eyes of her Mugen: in her mental absence, a horde of demons had surrounded the two spiricle strikers, with Kamiyama's swords unsheathed, just barely keeping the demons at bay, as he stood close and protected Azami.
"...ah!" She had forgotten: without spirit, the Mugen wouldn't function. And, so distraught about her ongoing accident, all her power had spilled out as well. While she was troubled, she had become useless, forcing Kamiyama to cover her. And he tried his best, but this quantity of demons quickly overwhelmed him.
The answer was clear. "M-my apologies. That was foolish of me, Captain." Sitting upright in her chair, Azami closed her eyes and took a deep, sharp breath in, further subjecting herself to her urine stench, but it was necessary to build up her morale. Before long, her Mugen rose back to life, overflowing with spirit just as her pants overflowed with...something else.
As the demons continued to surround, tightening their circle, it was time to release that too. "Mochizuki Secret Technique!" Manifesting a storm of ninja weapons around her Mugen, Azami sent them all flying with her special move, Peerless Shuriken. The spinning blades each found their way to a target, and in one blow, the horde was gone, a circle of explosions engulfing the evil and taking them out. To anyone seeing it for the first time, it would be jaw-dropping.
Granted, it would have been better if it wasn't all underscored by the sound of trickling water. In a physical sense, it couldn't get any worse for Azami, the pee was out and all over her already. But on the mental, the emotional, front, it was just...depressing, bringing shame to herself like this. Even as she found the strength to fight, she still winced and grimaced with every small shift of her backside, feeling it squelch and swish in the water.
It was positively repulsive, enough so that it didn't even register that this might possibly feel pleasurable. After a particularly long time on stage, if she had been unable to make her stop prior to opening curtains, her rush to the restroom would conclude with a modest, muffled moan, she couldn't help it. She would classify those times as "needing to go bad" already, but they were, almost literally, drops compared to this bucket. Under better circumstances of release...no ninja silence training could possibly muffle the pleasure she'd feel from this one.
Well, regardless of the response to it, there wouldn't be anything left to respond to anymore. Before she knew it was coming, a few spread-out hissing spurts punctuated the end to her emergency. Not that it was easy to tell from inside the Mugen, with all the urine still trickling down the seat, to say nothing of the filled bowl that should have been her hard seat. If she had to sit in her soiled uniform, with every drop that passed through them still in the tank with her, it was like it never stopped. The only clue that hinted to a conclusion was the quieting of running water.
In fact, everything seemed to go entirely quiet, to the point that even this gentle trickling seemed loud. Her heart dropped having to listen to that, and something had to be done to mitigate it. "W-we need to get back to the mission."
"Yes, but...shouldn't you..." Kamiyama's voice trailed off, and he didn't finish the sentence, but where it was going was perfectly clear.
"I'll be fine. Let's rescue everyone."
"...right!" Kamiyama's Mugen charged forward, swords brandished, ready to do his duty as captain of the Flower Division.
Azami followed, a bit slower. No one could see her, so her stern face and scornful eyes broke, and she looked pretty miserable the whole time. Who wouldn't be, covered in pee with no escape any time soon. Obviously, rescuing the other members of the Flower Division was the highest priority, but the ninja wanted so badly to escape without a trace right now, jump way up out of sight in her immediate exit. But, even as the spirit power emanating from her body waned, she just had to keep going. She sighed and whimpered, but the spiricle striker kept moving, further into danger. "I will not abandon my allies."
---------------
True to her word, Azami helped find the Flower Division, they all beat Oboro, and the Dark Realm dissipated. The day was saved, they did their victory pose photo (with Azami hanging sheepishly in the back, mostly out of sight), and, with pitying stares, the rest of the girls let her be. So, with mission complete, the ninja slunk through the Grand Imperial Theater's second-floor window to avoid the daytime crowd, grabbed a change of clothes from her room, and beelined for the baths.
So, now she was clean, in a new set of ninja garbs, and locked in her room, absentmindedly throwing shuriken into the tree stump she used for target practice. Of course, every one stuck into the wood properly, but her heart just wasn't in it. This wasn't her honing her skills, this was her trying to take her mind off the horror of today.
She couldn't even have that, as someone knocked on her door. Azami thought she recognized the knock, but regardless, she wasn't going to just let someone into her ninja hideout. "Kami!"
"Yama," came the voice of the captain, finishing the password.
Azami sighed. Truthfully, she didn't want to talk to Kamiyama right now. But, he said the password, so she couldn't just keep shutting him out. Throwing the shuriken in her hand perfectly into the training stump, she slumped over to the door and turned the knob, pulling it open inwards. "Come in."
Kamiyama entered, but he didn't intrude far, keeping his distance. "Hey, Azami... I just wanted to talk about what happened earlier."
"...there's nothing to say." Blushing, Azami looked down and to the side, to the small, tranquil water garden kept in her room. Whether it was the association of water that prompted her attention there, or it was just coincidence, was unknown. "I was a failure."
"It wasn't that bad. We saved Yattansai, we rescued the girls and beat Oboro, Reiji even said it'd be no trouble to clean out the Mugen."
"The measure of a ninja is in a lot more than just the success of their missions. If you don't understand that, then I misjudged you, Captain." Azami turned her back to him, vowing not to open her mouth again.
But Kamiyama wasn't giving up. "I figured you might react like this, so I brought you something to cheer you up. But I guess you're not interested in this six-pack of Mikazuki manju..."
As soon as he pulled out the box, it was gone. Azami had snatched it from his hands, lifted the lid, and pulled out one of the squishy confections. It was only as she opened her mouth wide and moved to shove the manju in that she saw Kamiyama staring, smirking with a victorious grin. Knowing she had been had, she reluctantly put it back in the box and looked away. "Village Rule #79: Don't take snacks as a bribe."
"They're not a bribe," Kamiyama chuckled. "Just a little present."
That's all she needed to hear, and Azami began scarfing down manju. But regardless of having food in her mouth, she kept talking. "Pwehsen fah wha?"
"For reaching ninja master status, of course! You were worried about being a real ninja, so this is my way of saying that you've earned that title."
Her thin eyes slowly widened, and she gulped her sweets down. "B-but I-"
"Showed your true heart when you stepped in for us. It's moments like that, seeing how much spirit and strength you girls have, that allow me to be the captain you all expect. So, thanks." Reaching his hand out, Kamiyama pat Azami's head, rubbing her already-messy black hair into something even worse.
Looking up at her captain, smiling down at her, Azami's heart skipped a beat. How could she dwell on the shame of today with her captain so proud? It was infectious, and she couldn't help but smile along with him. Still, she stayed silent, and he continued talking. "You'll have to show me some of your ninja master tricks now."
"Yeah!" Azami's face was bright and cheerful, not at all like the downtrodden expression she wore previously. "Ninja are supposed to keep their techniques secret, but I'll make an exception for you, Seijuro!"
"Really, those moves you pulled off earlier were... Wait, ‘Seijuro'?" Kamiyama wasn't used to anybody referring to him by his first name, outside his childhood friend, Sakura.
Azami nodded. "Yeah, Seijuro. I can call you that, right?"
"Well...it'll take some getting used to."
"You don't like it?" Azami shuffled in place and swung her arms sadly.
And a sad Azami was something he just couldn't bear. "N-no, it's okay. Seijuro is fine." Azami perked up after that, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hey, stop pushing!" "You stop pushing!" "Don't put so much weight there!" Shouts, scuffles, and slams echoed from outside the door, and before they could question what caused it, the door burst open, and who came tumbling through but Sakura and Hatsuho, now piled on the floor. They nursed their bruises from the loud, hard fall for a second, but soon looked up to see that their cover had been blown.
They saw Azami's face harden into a harsh ninja expression, as a kunai slid down her sleeve and appeared in her hand. "Eavesdroppers must be punished."
Sakura and Hatsuho scrambled to their knees, waving their hands to diffuse the accusation. "No no no no, we weren't eavesdropping," Sakura claimed, her voice so clearly lying. She might have known how bad she was at fibbing, because she immediately sent for help. "Isn't that right, Hatsuho?"
"Uh, y-yeah, that's right! We were just walkin' by, and Sakura tripped on the hem of my pants!" Hatsuho wasn't much better.
Even under the circumstances, when she had asked for cover, Sakura wasn't going to let that slide. "I tripped onstage once! Don't go talking like I always have two left feet!"
"That's what you're complaining about? I'll be sure to have a more thoughtful excuse the next time you talk me into this!"
Their bickering continued, and they began to ignore the people they had been eavesdropping on in the process. That is, until Azami adjusted her kunai, jumping into a throwing pose. That got the girls' attention, sending them running. "Thanks for today, Sei," Sakura shouted, as the two disappeared around the doorframe.
Sighing, Azami relaxed, retracting her kunai, and Kamiyama chuckled. "You girls get into all kinds of trouble, don't you?"
Azami shook her head. "Ninja don't get into trouble. We always perfectly follow the Village Rules."
"Yes, yes," he conceded, continuing to pat her on the head. He knew better than to say Azami followed her rules by the letter, but regardless, he trusted her wholly whenever trouble struck.
And Azami felt the same way about Seijuro. He was strong, reliable, determined, collected, took charge, and...and... Any time she tried to finish the thought, come up with any other positive qualities her captain possessed, her mind would go blank and her cheeks would grow hot, and it would only get worse when she looked at his face.
She couldn't even look at him anymore, and she had to look down, pressing her fingers together nervously under her sleeves. "Seijuro..." |
A commissioned work from the user aumonier95 on this website. Thank you for your support and the idea!
It was a hot, humid day in Vancouver. The sun shone down and reflected off the glass and steel of the skyscrapers downtown. Inside one of the office blocks though Clarissa was blissfully cool, at least for the most part.
Some idiot had broken the thermostat and it was just warm enough to be uncomfortable. That meant after she'd foolishly downed her thermos of coffee in the morning she had to keep a bottle of water handy to stay cool. What's more the morning had had her on her feet the whole time, running to and fro with errands, questions, and all sorts of problems. Right now even, instead of being comfortably behind her desk she was peering over a colleague's shoulder trying to figure out just what had gone wrong.
“I told you, run the script again and it'll work.” She didn't bother keeping the annoyance out of her voice.
Her colleague did as he was asked and lo, the program ran as it was supposed to. For his part, he seemed amazed that it was so simple.
“I've been trying to get this working all morning.”
Clarissa simply nodded and left the man to keep working, making her way through the cubicle maze back to her own office. It wasn't even lunch and she was ready to call it a day and go home. As she sits behind her desk, she feels a bead of sweat make its way down her back, an uncomfortable reminder of the heat.
She takes a sip from the now ever-present bottle of water on her desk and starts going through emails. Mostly nothing that mattered to her, a couple of recurrent errors that she had seen popping up in others' work, but hardly interesting content. She idly sips her water, passing the time til her next meeting with idle reading. Not five minutes before she needs to head over, she feels a twinge in her gut.
It wasn't anything major, no pressing concern for her, but she needed to pee. All this heat had her drinking her water too fast, it was definitely time to slow down a bit. Clarissa briefly considers going to the bathroom before heading to the meeting. It's only a fleeting need though, she thinks, I can just wait til the meeting is done.
Her mind made up, she grabs the files she needed for her part, locks her computer, and heads out of her office. The jaunty walk helps relieve the pressure she had been feeling below. It had hardly been bad anyway, so she puts it from her mind and focuses on the meeting ahead.
She greets a friend outside the door and slips into the dimly lit conference room. Others slowly trickle into the room, a thought that makes her unconsciously shift in her chair. Other managers, a couple trainers, even one or two regular employees all eventually join.
A TV at the end of the table turns on once everyone is seated, looks like it was going to be a joint meeting with the guys overseas too.
“Hey everyone, I know it's short notice for some of you, but thank you for coming,” a man on the other end of the connection says. “Let's jump right into it then.”
The meeting was hardly an exciting affair. Lots of discussions around new training regimens for new hires, the progression of statistics, all sorts of dull things. When it was finally her turn, she went on at length about a new idea for a hiring process that seemed to go over well. Unfortunately not even Clarissa's own presentation could distract her from her growing need to pee.
Sipping the water they'd offered during the meeting had definitely cooled her down from the seemingly growing heat, but did nothing for her bladder. That earlier twitch of her muscles before she walked over had grown into a little ball of pressure inside. She was still able to ignore it, but it was taking a concerted effort to do so. What's more, she was almost certain that someone had noticed her struggle to keep still at the meeting. Hopefully though, they just assumed it was down to boredom.
Whenever people finally stopped asking questions, then she would go. There were only a few hours til work was over, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Another twenty long minutes of tapping her foot later, and it was finished at last. People rose to leave the room, and Clarissa did along with them already relaxing.
“Miss Caine, could you stay behind a moment?” It was the operations lead, Thomas, speaking to her.
She froze the moment he started talking. Even though she knew from experience that it was rarely a bad thing if Thomas asked to talk to her, the boss talking to her at all simply set her nerves on edge. That sudden tension only increased her need to visit a toilet.
Clarissa takes her seat again and Thomas sits across the table from her. He seemed relaxed and cheery in stark contrast to the tension she was feeling. He leans back in his chair with a wide grin on his face.
“Don't know if you could tell, but your idea with recruitment was a hit. How much thought have you put into it?”
Clarissa smiles nervously, in truth she had taken the idea from a place that she's worked at previously. A simple thing really, just a mock version of what the person would be expected to do but with the interviewers.
“Well,” she starts. “It was just something I'd thought since we do in training, why not put it up front too?”
“It makes sense to me,” Thomas nods in agreement with your little white lie. “Look I want a formal proposal for it as soon as you can. The sooner we can implement this the better.”
Clarissa was shocked into silence, forgetting even the pressure growing in her bladder. She'd never worked with the recruitment team before and didn't know anyone there. What's more she hadn't even been part of the company for half a decade, she felt that she'd be stepping on more than a few toes with this.
Thomas could apparently see her unease and tapped the table to bring her out of her shock.
“It's just a proposal, Miss Caine. You're not going to be heading up recruitment or anything but I want this written as if you were a department head. Got it?”
“Yeah, that sounds doable.” Clarissa nods in agreement with him. The shock was subsiding and now the need to pee was coming back. She just wanted to get out of the room, but Thomas continued.
He went into detail about how exactly to draft her plan, how she ought to use certain words and phrases to use, bits of jargon she didn't know before. Sure it was useful but she knew that she wouldn't remember a thing because of how distracting her bladder was.
Finally though, he finished and she left. Clarissa didn't hesitate, heading straight for the bathroom just down the hall from the conference room. She regretted not taking a minute to go before the meeting but ultimately as long as she got there she no longer cared.
She moved as quickly as she could while keeping her appearance professional, and finally there it was after what felt like a far longer walk than a couple dozen meters. She breathed a sigh of relief and her bladder felt like it sighed as well, the heaving emphasizing how much she needed to go now. Clarissa placed her hand on the door and shoved to open in.
Only to collide with the door and stumble back, stunned. Locked, why was it locked? She looks up and sees a sign that fills her with worry. 'Closed for sanitation' it said. She vaguely recalled an email saying one of the toilets would be closed for some kind of major health inspection, it was just her luck that it was this one. She grits her teeth and raises a clenched fist, wanting nothing more than to pound on the door til someone opened it but instead she takes a few deep breaths and relaxes. There was no need to get worked up, it wasn't like this was the only bathroom on this floor, let alone in the whole building.
Clarissa straightens her clothes and decides to go back to her office. The feeling of having to go was subsiding anyway, so there was no point wasting anymore time. Her last break of the day was coming up anyway and she could go then. Until it came though, she had work to do.
The next hour was spent on her new project. Thomas had suggested a week, but really she wanted this done sooner than that. She wasn't going to be done tonight, and there was no way she was working through the weekend even on something as important as this, but this much work on a late Friday afternoon was starting to take it out of her. She'd been avoiding drinking any more water than she had to as well, and that certainly wasn't helping the feeling of grogginess that was settling over her mind.
Worse still, it was no longer delaying the feeling of a filling bladder that had just come back in the last little while. There was still at least another thirty minute til she was on break and could have a chance at using the bathroom. In the meantime she unbuttoned her crimson trousers in an effort to at least stave off the worst of the pressure.
Fortunately it worked, and Clarissa was near ecstatic. For just a moment, she had thought of the possibility of a twenty-eight year old woman having an accident in her own office. The moment, at least, was past but not without a deep pang of shame going through her. The idea made her stomach tighten in fear. She'd been forced to wear pull-ups until, by her reckoning, she was far too old and those memories had stuck with her all these years.
She shook her head to clear the unpleasant memories, it had been a long time since then and she didn't plan for it to happen again til she was too old to remember anymore. The hot sting of embarrassment in her cheeks fades away along with the thoughts as she focuses once more on her work.
It was coming along well, at least a third of the first draft for her proposal was complete. The rest would come just as smoothly, she was sure. With a quiet sigh, she leaned back in her chair and stretched out her arms. The warm sun shining through her window felt lovely on her back and shoulders, a much more gentle warmth than the office had been all day.
A knock at Clarissa's door interrupted the little reverie she found herself in and she ended the stretch and called out.
“Come on in.”
To your surprise it was Jake, one of the newer managers at the company. If she recalled correctly he had just been promoted last month. He seemed like a good enough guy, asked a lot of the right questions. She had helped him with his application a bit, feeding him bits and pieces that the top levels liked to hear sort of like Thomas had been doing for her earlier.
“Hey, Miss Clare,” he started in a tone too upbeat for a Friday afternoon spent in the office. “The boss got you working hard today, eh?”
She offers him a tired smile and a quick nod. “I did it to myself, don't make a suggestion unless you want to be the one telling people how to do it.”
He chuckles and takes a seat in one of the other chairs in your office.
“I bet, did you know most of the manager training is self-directed now? You wouldn't believe how much work I did on my own time. Honestly it's almost criminal.”
Clarissa smiles, Jake's talent for overstatement was usually entertaining and frankly a welcome distraction from her more pressing needs.
“Well look at it this way, at least they didn't just throw you into the work without so much as a 'good luck'. On the job training was the way of my day.” She didn't bother mentioning just how recent that change was, or who had suggested it.
“Yeah that,” he shakes his finger at the frankly terrible thought. “That definitely would have been awful.”
She offers him a smile and the conversation dies down. She glances at the clock on her computer, break time at last. With a few quick keystrokes she locks the computer then rises from her desk.
Jake stands from his own chair and smiles at her in return. He up speaks in a hesitant but hopeful tone. “Hey, do you uh, want to grab something from the sandwich place downstairs? My treat.”
Clarissa blinks at the offer, Jake had always been a sweet guy but she hadn't thought he felt like this about her. Now that it was on her mind though, he wasn't bad looking in the slightest. At six feet he stood about an inch taller than she did, and he was broadly handsome. She returns his smile as she seriously considers taking him up on it.
A twinge of pain from her bladder reminds her though, she had something else to do right now. She winces and shakes her head slowly.
“Maybe some other time? Now's not really great for me.”
Jake's smile shrinks and he nods as well. “Sure, that's no problem. Let me know when eh?” Without waiting for a response he retreats from the room hastily, shutting the door with a muffled clack on his way.
Clarissa lets out a quiet sigh, it would have been nice to have some kind of date and she wasn't getting any younger. Another cramp from her bladder though reminds her that it was definitely the right choice to make. She puts away a few papers that were still on her desk, moving as quickly as she reasonably could.
A few minutes later and she was done, none too soon either. Her need to pee was growing faster than she'd thought possible, especially since she hadn't had a sip of water for at least half an hour. Yes it really was right to have turned Jake down. She hurriedly tosses her handbag over one shoulder and steps out from her office.
She starts down the hall towards the bathroom once more, quickly but trying to still appear unhurried and in control. Her need to pee was only growing stronger while she walked, every step was sending another wave of need through her. But the bathroom was in sight now, it would only be another moment and she'd finally be rid of that feeling. She gets another three meters down the hall, just a dozen more to the bathroom and then stops.
In her haste, Clarissa had totally forgotten that that toilet was closed. She spins around on her heel and starts walking even faster in the other direction. There was another one that was a bit further from her office than she'd like, even further since she'd gone the wrong way like an idiot. Still at least there was another one, unlike other places she'd worked.
But no matter, there it was at last, like a beacon of hope. She didn't hesitate for a moment, shoving the door open and taking her first step into the bathroom. She felt her bladder and body relax the moment she took that step, the need to pee abating for a moment. Then it all came crashing back with her second step.
Clarissa carried herself right into the back of another person, just inside the doorway. She heard a distinctly masculine yell and then she was on her ass on the cold tiles. The person, the man, she had bumped into turns around and looks down at her just as surprised as she was.
“Uh, sorry about that miss...?”
Clarissa stands up and straightens her clothes out, glaring at the man blocking her way. She was in no mood for this.
“Clare, Clarissa Clare. What are you doing in the women's toilets?”
The man looks at her, still clearly confused, then over his shoulder. Clarissa follows his gaze, her heart sinking and bladder tightening back up at the sight. The bathroom looked like a disaster, tiles were torn up and scattered all over the floor. The counters and sinks were torn up as well. Worse still, the toilets were simply gone and only empty stalls remained.
“Remodelling, Miss Clare. We asked your boss to send out a few emails this week to remind you guys, don't tell me he didn't.”
She sighs and massages the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Another forgotten email in the rush to use the bathroom. She still felt the pressing need to go but for some reason, maybe the total lack of an option, she was okay at the moment.
“No I'm sure he did, I guess I just forgot. Sorry I'll get out of your way.”
The man looks back at her and nods. “By all means.”
Clarissa beats a hasty retreat from the bathroom, she didn't want to stick around to be reminded just how close she got to relief. But she wasn't a quitter, she could last at least til the end of the day. With her little detour down the wrong direction, she didn't have time to visit the one other bathroom she knew of in the little cafe downstairs. Just another hour though and she could go.
That thought kept her going for another forty minutes, throwing herself at her work furiously to distract from more pressing matters. She had returned from break and called in a favour to get out of work a little early. It wouldn't be long now and then she'd be free and relieved. That was still at least twenty minutes away, though.
That time was passing far too slowly for her liking. Every tick of the clock may as well have been a finger poking at her near full bladder. She began to tap her foot impatiently, keeping time with the agonizing seconds passing by. She couldn't focus any longer on her work, everything was closed and she was just maintaining appearances until she could leave.
With five minutes to go, another knock interrupted her impatient tapping. She clicked her back teeth together in annoyance and barely kept the feeling out of her voice.
“Come in!”
The door opened and one of the guys on her team stepped in, a newer one named...Michael was it? Probably Michael.
“Miss Clare, sorry to bother you so late in the day but we've got a problem I think.” His voice was hesitant and he stuttered more than once. She didn't know whether it was the scowl that probably wrinkled her face or just new guy nerves. She holds out a hand and gestures for him to give the tablet he was clutching to his chest like a security blanket.
With agonizing slowness he held it out to her, and she felt like it took him minutes even though it wasn't nearly that long. As soon as it was in her hand she snatched it away and began reading. The more she read the deeper her scowl became, and her heart sank.
It seemed that somebody on the team hadn't been as diligent as they were supposed to be. A late test run the lead had done this afternoon had resulted in the entire program crashing with apparently no explanation as to what the problem was or how it managed to entirely ruin two weeks of progress. Worse still was the recommendation: “at least another hour of overtime...” time that she wouldn't be able to take off.
She sets the pad down and sighs, rubbing her suddenly heavy eyes with the back of her hands. Of course this would happen at this time on a Friday, no disaster could ever wait for the weekend. She bites the inside of her lip, her tiredness and bodily urges forgotten in a sudden and furious burst of energy. She scoops the tablet back off her desk and stands, gesturing to the door.
“Let's get started, the sooner we figure out what's going on the sooner we can draw up a plan to tackle it on Monday.” She doesn't bother to hide the frustration in her voice.
For his part, Michael just followed after her without responding. Best decision he could have made, Clarissa thinks. As though they can sense it, her team turns to look at her one by one. Some look tired, some scared, but it's clear that none of them want to be here for this either. She decides to simply rip the bandaid off.
“Alright, I don't really care who did it because we all have to fix it. We're going to be here til we find out what the problem is, after that we'll go home. Fixing it can wait until next week but the important thing is identification.”
She holds out a hand to Michael and he gives her the tablet. She doesn't waste any time, tapping through the sections of code with familiar ease.
“I'll send out emails to you guys in a couple minutes. We'll each have a section to review and test. Make notes of any bugs or errors you come across, but leave them where they are. Come Monday we'll compare notes and see if we can't figure out what's going on. Questions?”
No one makes a sound, really they just seem anxious to get back to their computers and finish the day. Clarissa understood that feeling all too well, this day had dragged on too long already and she wanted nothing more than to leave if only to have a chance to use the toilet. With her team silent she nods and turns back to her office, there was work to be done.
And work she and her team did, for the next hour, past their usual 4pm knock off time. By this point, Clarissa was long out of patience. She was constantly tapping her foot, her flat shoes making a seemingly deafening cacophony of clicks that blended with her typing on the keys of her computer. She was at her wits end, she'd examined this section for errors dozens of times and there was nothing out of place. In fact it was quite the comprehensive bit of code, without being overbearing and long.
If her bladder wasn't back to being a pain, she could appreciate it for the elegant work it was. However it felt like her belly had doubled in size since she started the day, her belt felt as though it was cutting into her. A knock at her door signalled that the end of her torture might be here though.
Michael came in, looking tired but smiling. “They're done, Miss Clare. We've got at least most of the errors nailed down to start fixing. And if you don't mind me saying, I think everyone's ready to head home.”
Clarissa glanced at the clock: just past five now. The cafe downstairs was still opened at least for a little while. She sighs with relief and returned Michael's smile.
“Alright, then get out of here. See you on Monday.”
Michael nodded and left her office. From her team's desks she hear a muffled cheer and the vague shuffling of people leaving the office. Another minute and it was quiet again. Clarissa had already packed up her own work and was shutting down her computer when there was another knock at the door. Unexpected and frankly unwelcome as it was, she couldn't help her irritated tone. “What is it?”
It happened to be Thomas, smiling as always. She straightened up immediately, looking a bit embarrassed about her outburst. He didn't look angry though, or even annoyed.
“Rough day?” He sounded almost jovial, in stark contrast to how Clarissa felt and probably looked. She nodded in reply and continued to pack up.
“I heard about the uh...issue you guys had,” he continued. “How'd that turn out.”
Clarissa grimaces, this was taking up time that she needed at this point. “It's fine, we'll be sorting it all out Monday. Might delay the program a couple days, but hopefully it'll be quicker than that.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Well what can be done? How's the proposal coming along besides then?”
“It's going fine, should be done by end of next week.” She glances past him at the door, hoping she didn't seem too desperate. But at this point she was completely finished with the delays. “Look Thomas, I don't mean to be rude but I really need to go.”
He puts up his hands and steps aside. “By all means, I'll see you Monday then.”
She gives him a tight smile, grabs her purse, and heads out. It was a bad day to have worn her tighter pair of trousers, not only for the constant extra pressure on her bladder but it was restricting her walking speed as well. Sweat was starting to prick her back, and she knew that the stress of holding it all day was really getting to her now.
She almost stumbled into the elevator, she wasn't even wearing heels and it was hard walking straight. She slapped the button for the ground floor and sighed with relief as the doors began to close. But just as she was relaxing, a hand slipped into the closing door and makes it open again. The surprise made her bladder reflexively tighten up and it took all her self control to not scream in surprise and frustration. A nervous looking girl entered the elevator when the door was open again and she gave you a thankful grin.
“Sorry, almost missed this one too! I forgot something at my desk and had to run back...” The girl rambled on for a moment, without hitting the button for wherever she was going. Clarissa smiled tightly, as politely as she could. After the other girl fell silent she pressed a button, a couple levels up from Clarissa's and the elevator jolted slightly as it began moving down.
The elevator seemed to be moving slower than normal, and Clarissa couldn't help tapping her foot impatiently. The younger girl looked nervous around her and kept shifting her weight from foot to foot. For some reason that movement reminded Clarissa even more of her need to pee, and her foot tapping increased in tempo the more she thought about it.
Finally it jolted to a stop and the door opened for the girl's floor. The girl, who Clarissa is sure she recognized but couldn't think of a name for, gave her a jaunty wave and quickly left. Unfortunately, it seemed fate wasn't quite done giving her a hard time. A dozen people, who had apparently been waiting, quickly piled into the already cramped space. She was rapidly driven to the back and pressed against the back of the elevator.
She wasn't able to do much as the it continued its way down, now full of people all going to different places in the building. It felt like she was stopping on every floor, and each jerk as the machine halted its downward travel was like a needle driven into her aching bladder. Someone accidentally leaned backwards at one point, putting a sudden spike of pressure on her belly. The woman in question apologized swiftly, to which Clarissa gave her best smile and nod but she was beyond the point of words to express herself now.
The mass of people began thinning, but was still too thick to push through as the doors opened and she saw the lobby through them. But she tried valiantly, attempted to thread her thin body through the throng in the elevator. An accidental jab to her stomach from an elbow put a stop to that quick enough. Her last attempted was physically shoving the people in front of her aside, but cramped as it was they didn't budge. Of course, that could have had something to do with her 160cm height or frankly scrawny build. Once more she vowed to herself to go to the gym, if only she made it to the toilet in time.
With her last chance to get out on the ground floor vanishing behind a pair of closing doors, she decided to simply close her eyes and wait at the back. She recalled a sutra her yoga teacher had taught her for calmness and control and repeated it over and over in her head. It actually worked, she was able to regain the control she had nearly lost just moments before. She was aware of her pressing need to pee but the urgency she had felt and the fear of losing control in her pants like a child slipped away like smoke.
She stayed that way for what could have been hours, but must have only been a few minutes. Clarissa slowly opened her eyes as she became aware of the sudden emptiness of the elevator and its stillness. She blinked in surprise, suddenly feeling very alone and aware of how she must have looked to the other passengers when they had left her behind. But none of that mattered now.
She hurriedly slapped the button for the ground floor, her momentary calm forgotten in a frenzy of finally being unblocked from her goal. The elevator started moving upwards from the parking levels she had found herself on, slowly toward the ground level again. Her foot started tapping the tiles again, her flat, black shoes filling the air with a frantic, constant noise.
At long last though, the doors slid open with a ping from the speaker and she half walked, half jogged into the lobby of the building. She wasted no time in heading for the little cafe that was just across the foyer, there she knew was a bathroom that was open for sure. Her pace gradually increased along with the tightness returning in her bladder. Eventually though there was just one more corner to turn and she'd be there. A feeling of relief began bubbling up, just a few more meters and her hellish torment would be over at last and she could go home happy and comfy. With a growing smile she rounded the corner with a little skip...
...And comes to a sudden stop as a metal grate blocks her way. The shock made her stomach muscles tighten and she nearly leaked then and there. She slapped a hand against grate as though it would open at her touch, but it just rattled in place. Her brief sense of relief was gone and replaced with an almost animalistic need to pee.
She steps back from the closed shop and takes several deep breaths. There was no need to panic yet, home was only a short drive from here. It would only be ten minutes if she took the highway, so all she had to do was get down to her car and drive. Yes, it was going to be fine, just a bit more uncomfortable than she thought.
Clarissa stood up straight and brushed her burgundy suit jacket smooth, then did the same for her pants. A desperate need to pee was no reason for a shabby appearance even if there wasn't anyone around to judge her on it. She walked back towards the elevator, quick but just barely in control of herself. But it was better than it had been only moments before, maybe that meditation had really helped her. She'd have to speak with her yoga instructor and give them her thanks.
The elevator began moving only a few seconds after she hit the button, the doors closed mercifully fast. The descent though, felt agonizingly slow as if the machine itself was trying to torment her. That was absurd of course, but she still felt a slight paranoia that only let up once she was at the bottom level of the parking garage and walking to her car.
Her little Echo wasn't much for looks or speed, but today it may as well be a drag racer for how hard she would push it. As she started up the car she silently cursed the fact that she'd parked so far down and had to go up half a dozen levels to get to the street. Eventually she arrives at the exit to the garage and glances back and forth on the road, making sure she was clear to pull out. Almost as an afterthought she pulls her seatbelt on and, simply from routine, pulls it tight around her waist.
The shock of pain from her overstressed bladder is sharp enough that she nearly slams on the brakes. She let out a gasp and struggled to regain her breath as the sharpness subsided to a dull ache and then back to the now familiar desperation to pee. She resolved to pay more attention to what she was doing, another shock like that and she may actually have an accident and old as this car was she certainly didn't want to ruin the upholstery.
She reflects as she drives that her concern had turned from having an accident at the age of 28 to the far smaller concern about her car seats. But no matter what the outcome, it just wasn't acceptable to pee herself no matter how bad things got. Besides, she was getting onto the highway now and that she knew would carry her home quick enough.
However it seemed the traffic had other ideas; almost the moment she got up to speed she had to slow right down again. A creeping sense of dread came over her and she pulled slightly to the side to see how far the jam stretched. That feeling only increased as she saw car after car stretching for kilometers, as far as she could see traffic was backed way up. It wasn't a total standstill, but she knew this would prolong her trip home by quite a while.
Fifteen painful, desperate minutes later it felt like she was no closer to home than she had been at the office. However she was able to see, in the distance, exactly what was causing the traffic to slow to a crawl. An arc of water sprayed high over the highway, and she could see cars trying to squeeze down from three lanes to one to avoid whatever it was. A broken water main maybe?
The more she stared to try and figure out what it was though, the worse her need to pee got. She tried to look anywhere else, at anything else, but something about the massive cascade of water kept drawing her attention back. Eventually she turned on the radio and willed herself to stare at the bumped of the car in front of her as it slowly inched along.
“...And for the coming weekend, well you'd better get out your umbrella's,” a far too excited voice spoke over the radio. “It seems no good thing can last forever, so we'll be expecting rain, rain, rain over Saturday and Sunday with the clouds set to clear by Monday afternoon.”
The two hosts went on complaining about the rain for another few minutes, discussing in fine detail just how much they hated the sound of it pounding down on the rooftops. The clingly feeling of wet clothes on their skin. The constant dribbling down hoods and umbrellas. By the time she turned the radio off, Clarissa was unconsciously rubbing her thighs together in an effort to stave off an accident.
After the radio was off though, the feeling of desperation began to fade again. With only the gentle purr of her car's engine she was able to regain some semblance of control. But just in case, she loosened her seatbelt a bit and undid the button on her dark red slacks. There was no need to chance anything, especially when she was drawing closer to home.
Then a gentle pattering sound started on the roof of her car, and drops of water began appearing on the windscreen. Looking up she saw she was coming under the column of water now and ahead she could finally see where it was coming from.
A great number of workers were crowded around what looked like a crater in the highway, and she could see a few different broken pipes all spraying water. The noise grew louder as she got closer to the breach and she found herself fidgeting again as it brought her uncomfortable situation to the front of her mind again. At least it seemed traffic was moving quicker on the other side of the crater as cars once again spread into different lanes.
But just as she passed under the heaviest spray of water, the car in front of her slammed on its brakes. She was forced to as well, and despite the slow speed she could feel her seatbelt dig into her bladder. She felt a rush just south of her belly, like a stream flowing, but a quick check determined that she hadn't leaked. Now though she was trapped under the pouring water, the constant drumming and dripping causing her even more pain than the sudden stop had.
Clarissa can see past the car in front of her a team of workers carrying some piece of equipment slowly across the lane, the apparent reason for the stop. She drums her fingers on the wheel as they move across the road, far too slowly for her desire. After what seemed to be an eon though, and another round of sutra reciting, she was able to pull forward and out of the pouring stream of water.
Finally she was home free. After the jam, the road opened up and she was able to speed along her way home. She could once again feel her need to pee subsiding as she got closer to home. It seemed that she would make it after all. In retrospect, despite how tortuously long the day had seemed and how painful it had been to hold it in for this long, there was no question in her mind that she had already made it.
As she pulled into her block, the feeling of triumph only grew stronger. That dread feeling that had clung to her from when she was a child slowly slipped away. Against all odds and in spite of the absurd situations that had held her up today she had proven herself stronger. At long last, she pulled her car into the driveway of her little bungalow.
As she walked up to the door she was practically skipping. Just making it back here was almost enough relief for her. She put her key in the lock and turned it so she could get inside and finally have some actual relief. But it didn't turn, the door simply rattled in place as she tried to push it open.
She immediately felt sweat prick her back as the desperation returned in full force. She took the key from the lock and put another one in. They looked similar, maybe she had just made a mistake in her haste. The lock rattled again and once again the door failed to open. This was getting out of hand. She took the key out and looked closely at her key ring, picking through it til she was sure she had the right one. Finally it turned the lock and she pushed her way into the house, the door slamming behind her in her haste.
Suddenly she heard a deep bark and was knocked flat on her ass. Her face suddenly became covered in slobber as the offender made herself yet another obstacle in Clarissa's quest for relief. In her haste she had forgotten that she was looking after Bella, her neighbour's Bernese mountain dog. The massive mutt seemed to be quite unhappy about being left inside by herself all day. But Clarissa's last bit of patience ran out when the dog stepped directly on her swollen bladder.
She shoves Bella off and runs toward the bathroom. Her flat shoes clicked against the linoleum floor and she nearly slipped as she rounded the corner toward the bathroom. But she recovered swiftly and continued to run to the bathroom. Any sense of decorum was gone from her movement, she wasn't in public so there was no need to worry about eyes on her and her desperation took over. As she came around the final corner she felt another wave come over her bladder and she knew that it was now or never. She sprinted the final few meters and dashed at the doorway to the toilet.
And smacked firmly into the door she had closed to keep the dog out. She bounced off the door and collapsed to the ground, staring up at the portal. Another spike of pressure came from her bladder. It was the final straw after a long day of torment.
Her burgundy pants darkened to near black as her pent up pee cascaded into them. The hiss that came from her crotch was deafening in the otherwise silent house. Clarissa could feel the heat of the desperately flowing liquid spread down from her crotch and over her plump ass, pooling beneath her and soaking into the legs of her pants.
Like a little girl, she was having an accident once again. But she was so shocked she couldn't feel any shame even as her stream of pee picked up force and expanded the puddle under her. The feeling of relief that accompanied it though did make it through the fog of her stunned state. And still the warm feeling of her pee flooding her pants continued.
It felt like it went on for far too long, as though she was peeing out more liquid than her entire body could hold. Her pants were beyond soaked, so much so that she could even feel it dripping from her thighs as capillary action drew it up her raised legs. Her panties were certainly ruined, in fact there wasn't a scrap of fabric below her waist that wasn't drenched in pee. But it still carried on for another minute.
Finally the flow slowed down to a trickle and finally stopped. The heat from her pee gradually cooled and she was left sitting shocked in a chilly, gross feeling puddle of her own fluid. She shakily rose to her feet and, somehow, a several second long spurt that apparently remained inside her made sure that her shoes too were filled with urine.
She opened the door with a trembling hand and stepped into the bathroom, her shoes and socks squishing with each unsteady step. Behind her was a trail of drops from her saturated pants. Even now that the shock was passing though, she didn't feel all that awful. Ashamed no doubt, she was a grown woman that failed to get to the toilet like an adult. But the relief from going, even in her pants, had been nigh orgasmic.
She shook her head as she slipped off her sodden shoes then peeled off her pants and panties. They were left in a wet pile on the floor, and her jacket, shirt, and bra joined them in short order. Her thighs felt sticky and she was still shaking as she stepped into the shower and turned the hot water up. All that mattered to her was that the awful day was over and she knew that if ever got this bad, she would make it next time.
Once again thank you to aumonier95 for commissioning this work! |
Why hello! Look at this! I'm actually posting a new story here for the first time in.....my gosh, has it really been almost 3 years? Crazy! I've never stopped writing in all that time - it's finishing things that's been the problem haha But I've finally completed a story of some substantial length and so here it is! I hope you all enjoy, I greatly appreciate the patience of everyone who has liked my stuff in the past, and I hope to post my next story before 2024 😃
Long Pisser vs The Pee Queen
Growing up, I became friends with a girl from the other end of town named Macy. There was a wide open park down the road from my house, and it became the gathering spot for all the kids in the neighborhood. Macy would bike the whole way from her home, which was so far away that she was in a separate school district, in order to join the rest of us. Often we would be out all day on the weekends, which led to an interesting discovery before too long. At the far side of the park were some sand dunes, the remnants of half-finished construction – we still don’t know if the township planned to expand the park, or build over it, but that’s not the point. The point is that when we’d all been roughhousing for a few hours, chugging our Gatorades and apple juice boxes that our parents insisted we take along with us, eventually we’d need to release all that liquid. And so everyone would trot over to the dunes, the guys taking one side and the girls the other, and the boys would whip their penises out of their trousers and the girls would hike up their skirts and squat down, and everyone would have a nice relieving piss before continuing with whatever game we’d come up with that day. Well….almost everyone would take refuge in the dunes, that is. Two of us would never go over there – Macy and me. I’d always felt abnormal from as far back as I can recall, because I’ve been blessed with a bladder of a horse, I think. I could drink and drink and drink, and still feel no more than a mild urge. Desperation was rare, but even when it did occur, I had impenetrable muscles down there, so holding longer still was never an issue. Macy was well-endowed in her own right, often not showing any signs of needing to pee until late in the day, and even then she’d still hold off. Soon it had developed into a game between us – when the rest of the gang would take a pee break, we’d continue doing whatever we were doing, and all the while Macy would make sly comments to me about how I should really go join the boys before I had an accident, and I would fire back and tell her that she really needed to squat with the girls before her skirt got wet. Macy was pretty tomboyish, and it lent her a certain competitive streak, and in fact it was she who first suggested that we should drink even more while the others had their relief. So that became our ritual – Macy would bring along a backpack every weekend, and when the rest of the kids went to pee, she’d reach into it, pull out a couple bottles of water, and we’d chug them down while exchanging knowing glances. I could tell that, while it was all in good fun, she did desperately want to beat me – to make me quit and run for the dunes before the day was up. The extra drinks would wreak havoc on her control, forcing her to pee dance in the late afternoons, but Macy would always end up biking back home unrelieved, an impressive feat on a bladder as full as hers surely was. As time went by, Macy’s bladder capacity kept increasing, along with her determination to best me, and she would be able to make us drink more and more, but my bladder was always up to the task. While we would both leave each gathering dry, I did so calmly and happily, while Macy would be frustrated, aching, and downright cross due to her inability to defeat my gigantic bladder. On a few occasions, I tried explaining to Macy that boys and girls were simply different, and I was blessed with naturally stronger muscles and a naturally bigger capacity due to my gender, but she would have none of it. “I CAN beat you! A girl can hold just as long as a guy!” she cried on many different days, usually with a bladder fit to explode underneath her skirt. “It’s like weightlifters and bodybuilders,” I told her with exasperation, “Girls can be really really strong, and have great big muscles that are much larger than the average guy, or even larger than a guy that goes to the gym every day….but the people with the biggest muscles will always be men. That’s just how it is. And this is the same thing. A guy’s sphincter muscle is both bigger and stronger than a girl’s, and the length of his urethra is longer too, which means I have more power and more time to stop up my pee than you do. I’m not trying to brag or egg you on….it’s just biology.” Macy would never accept my reasoning, huffing and puffing and drinking until her stomach hurt, forcing herself to hold in her urine for hours longer than she should, but she was always that one half-step behind me and couldn’t catch up, and it drove her mad. Unfortunately, before our friendly contest could develop any further, Macy moved away to the other side of the state. I’d see her in passing every year or two, when she would come back to the area to see some friends, but we drifted apart and never talked about holding our pee anymore. Still, throughout my teen years my bladder had continued developing, and it had reached positively massive proportions by the time I finished high school. If I had a little more self-confidence, I would have called the people from Guinness to measure me, but I figured that this sort of record was one that they didn’t want in their record books. Part of me did wonder if Macy had kept up her bladder training as well, and if her bladder had grown as mine had.
After high school, I applied to and got into a good state university, but to make sure I didn’t just bury myself in my studies, I managed to gain acceptance into a fraternity. The guys were friendly enough, and I got to live in the frat house instead of a dorm, so it had its positives. Of course, I learned soon enough that nothing was off limits to college guys, and that applied doubly if you had anything about you that was different from everybody else. The first time I took one of my now-legendary pees into the frat’s toilet, there was a whole group gathered by the door by the fifth minute. Instead of going by my name “Lars”, the guys decided that they’d just refer to me as “Long Pisser”. Thankfully, they meant this good-naturedly, and seemed legitimately impressed on the rare happening when I would need to take a relief and piss for minutes on end. They also made sure not to use that lovely nickname outside the frat house’s walls, which pleased me greatly. It almost became a game to them, watching me drink at the frequent frat house parties and knowing that I’d stay out of the toilet until the next day. My first year in college passed by in this manner, escaping my classes with B’s and enjoying my time in the frat.
The second year started much as the first had ended. My pissing had become more infrequent than ever as my bladder’s size kept increasing, and my “brothers” continued to get a kick out of this. But one day, soon after we’d come back to university from winter break, I overheard two of my brothers, Clark and Paul, talking to each other in low tones, and my name was brought up. I went over and inquired, and after a bit of hemming and hawing, they admitted that they’d heard a rumor come out of one of the sororities on campus – as luck would have it, this was a sorority that we had a bit of a rivalry with, as the stuck up girls there were continually finding ways to out-earn our charity fundraisers and throw parties that got just enough attention to leave ours as second best. The rumor was that this sorority had a “Pee Queen” of their own, a new transfer with a seemingly bottomless bladder. They kidded me about it for a few minutes, but then Clark got a look in his eye and suggested jokingly, “We should have a contest – their champion against our champion! Whoever holds it the longest wins! I’d just love to beat those girls at something...” Paul and I both laughed at the thought, but just then one of the ranking members of the frat, a senior named Jordan, passed by and overheard us. “I like it!” he declared, taking the idea seriously, and before too long it had been decided – we would make the challenge – Bladder against Bladder. Long Pisser vs Pee Queen. Whichever side lost would have to pay for the alcohol for the other’s events for the next fall semester. Of course, the fraternity was completely confident in me. After all, they’d witnessed my urinary displays time and time again. And I had no reason to fear either. In fact, I was relishing the idea of having a challenge, for once. Once the details were worked out, Jordan went and presented the idea to a couple of the top ranking girls in the sorority. As Jordan told it, “They looked at me like I was the dumbest man alive and told me they’d enjoy fleecing us out of all that money.” Evidently the sorority girls had just as much faith in their champion as the frat had in me. My interest was now piqued, and it became even more so when I learned from a girl at one of our weekend parties that the Pee Queen had accepted the challenge and was training rigorously for it.
Finally it was time for the holding contest. The frat and sorority had spent the last month going back and forth with insults, building up their own champion and proclaiming the superiority of their own gender. With my titanium bladder and lifetime of holding experience, I wasn’t worried in the slightest about losing the challenge. I was just intrigued to see the girl who had been dubbed the Pee Queen, and see how long she could really last. We were originally going to have the contest at a Friday night party at the frat house, but all of the bragging on both sides made sure to expand things – instead of starting on Friday night, we’d meet up and empty our bladders on Friday morning before classes, and then go through the whole day without pissing before having the contest kick into overdrive that night. The girls were actually pushing to move things out even further and have our last pees on Thursday night, but I held firm on the Friday morning start time. “Who knows, this girl might not even make it to the party dry otherwise! They’re talking a big game, but we all know that guys can hold it longer. It won’t matter in the end, so let’s just keep the start time at Friday morning,” I implored to my frat brothers, and they agreed. And so on that fateful Friday morning at 6 am, I found myself being escorted by Jordan, Paul, and a few other early risers to the sorority house, where we would face off with my opponent and take our morning pees – our final ones before the contest got underway. When we entered the sorority house, the girls who were up to see the show began to laugh amongst themselves. It was clear that their confidence in their champion was sky high. Then I heard footsteps coming down the staircase off to the left, and a female’s voice retorted, “Yeah I know it’s the big day! I wouldn’t even bother with a morning piss if you guys weren’t making me! Didn’t even go last night, but that’s never phased me before...” The sorority’s champion was flanked down the steps by two of the upper members of the sorority, Ashley and Emma, two blondes with large racks, fake lashes, and full faces of makeup even at this hour. But my mouth hung open at the sight of the champion. It was Macy, all grown up and so well-developed that for a moment I thought she’d gotten breast and butt implants. Her eyes went wide as well when she saw me, but she kept her stiff upper lip and otherwise gave no indication to any of the girls that she knew who I was.
“Ok, you two,” Ashley proclaimed when they had marched Macy down to face the fraternity contingent, “now it’s time for the mother of all pissing contests! With Macy’s superbladder, it may be the most lopsided contest in history, but I hope your boy will compete long enough to make it fun. So here we stand – champion against champion! Pee Queen against Long Pisser! The rules are simple. You’ll both drink the same amount during the day, and we’ll meet up at the fraternity’s party tonight and you’ll keep drinking until someone quits and takes a piss! Now, I think the only way to make it fair is to have the two of you go into the bathroom together to pee at the same time….so off you go, you two! Get to it!” I was taken aback at the idea of having to disrobe and pee in front of Macy. That wasn’t part of the bargain. But she only hesitated for half a second before turning to walk towards the sorority’s first floor bathroom, and so I had no choice but to follow.
As soon as the bathroom door shut behind us, I tried to reason with Macy in a low tone, “Macy, you’re the Pee Queen?? Look, I’m sure you’re good at holding it, even better than you were years ago, but let’s give this up. You don’t have to do this.” Macy whipped around to face me at these words, “What’s the matter, Lars? Afraid I’ll humiliate you in front of your new friends?” I stuttered before replying, “No, Macy, I’m not worried about losing, even if you’re my opponent. We both know how strong I am, and I promise you I’ve only gotten stronger since our last meetings all those years back. I don’t want to end up humiliating YOU. Let’s quit now – you can be the Pee Queen at the sorority, and I’ll be the Long Pisser at my frat, and we can both be happy.” Macy’s face turned a shade of red and her eyes began to narrow, “You’re patronizing tone won’t work to get you out of this, Lars. Ever since our contests when we were kids, I’ve been training my bladder for this moment. I’ll hold circles around you, and I’ll hold it even when I’m dying from the pain, and then I’ll take another drink and hold it longer. Of course, I sincerely doubt that you can push me to that point anyway, but just know that I will not quit…..no matter what. I have a whole new life here – I’m well-respected by the girls, I have no equal Lars! And you’re not about to take this from me! You can’t, because my bladder of steel can’t be beaten!” I sighed and tried one final time, “Macy, please, I’ve told you in the past. It’s biology. No matter how hard the greatest girl in the world trains her bladder, the greatest guy in the world will always top her. My bladder is larger, my sphincter muscles are bigger and stronger, and your urethra is so short that if you lose focus even for an instant once you reach max capacity, you’ll leak. We really do not have to go through with this contest. We’ll call it a draw.” “Draw my ass!!” Macy yelled, loud enough that I wondered if everyone outside the door could hear her, “I’ve waited for years to get this opportunity! I’m going to outhold you if it kills me!” Macy stomped to the toilet, pulled down her pajama pants, spread her legs wide, and began pissing a waterfall into the toilet bowl. “Now get over here, whip out that cock, and piss between my legs into the toilet. We have to go at the same time for it to be fair….not that it’ll matter in the end.” I just shook my head, “No it won’t….”, but I dutifully took my position, standing in front of her and letting loose with my own torrent. And that’s where we stayed for the next 5 minutes as our bladders emptied out. Macy was glaring at me in a way I hadn’t experienced before, and I was doing my best to return it. If this was how she wanted it, then I would give it back to her. My pee stream was the one that ended first, and as I dripped dry, Macy gave me a smirk. The implication was clear – she believed her bladder was bigger, and this was exhibit A. Inwardly, I noted that it was more likely that she’d been holding on far longer than me prior to this piss, hence the greater volume, but I decided to let her have this moment. After a further minute, Macy’s thick stream came to a halt as well. We washed our hands and exited the bathroom, and when we were in view of everyone again, Macy called out to her girls, “I pissed a minute longer than the Long Pisser! This contest is already in the bag, girls! Get ready to pay up, gentlemen!” Ashley was standing ready for us, and she gave each of us a bag containing 6 water bottles. “You’ll drink these during classes throughout the day. That’ll keep it even for when we meet up for the real contest tonight.” “With pleasure!” Macy spat, grabbing her bag and earning a cheer from her sisters. Jordan took my bag and handed it to me, and I casually popped open the first bottle and drank down a third of it. When I left for my morning classes, I was accompanied by two sorority sisters, tasked with ensuring that I did not cheat and simply pour the water out somewhere. Similarly, Macy was followed by two of my brothers. So it was for real now – a holding contest years in the making.
14 hours after the contest had started, 8 pm on the dot, the fraternity house opened its doors for the big party, and thus for the continuation of the champion vs champion holding contest. I had finished my water with time to spare in the day, and still felt virtually no urge to urinate despite the 3 liters of water coursing through my system. My brothers that tagged along with Macy had reported back that she too had finished her water a couple hours prior, and besides some cross looks on her face, seemed none the worse for wear. So her bladder had gotten bigger then, because a decade ago this would have been enough to send her scrambling for the toilet after such a long time. Students trickled in for the party, as most were still pre-gaming and chose to be fashionably late. I relaxed and talked aimlessly with a few of my brothers, and at 9 pm Macy finally made her long-awaited arrival. She was accompanied by seemingly the entirety of her sorority, the sisters clearly hell-bent on witnessing their champion’s victory lap. I heard them murmuring about the “Pee Queen”, as despite a definite bulge in her lower abdomen, Macy walked confidently into the building and her whole troop entered right along with her. Ashley was front and center once more, meeting Jordan in the living room of the frat house, where a dance floor had been set up, and more importantly, all of the drinks were sitting in ice tubs in the corner of the room. “Let’s do this!” Ashley declared, and Jordan nodded, “You’re on!”. I was bemused at the thought of each of them saying these things on behalf of Macy and I, but I gazed at Macy’s stern visage briefly and realized that if she found this as ironic as I did, she wasn’t showing it. Within a minute, a bottle of beer was thrust into my hand, and the same happened to Macy. She regarded me with a defiant stare, shrugged her shoulders, and knocked back the bottle in one prolonged swallow. Her sorority sisters cheered, and the majority of the party-goers had begun to mill about and watch this spectacle. Not to be outdone, I also drank down my first bottle, and no sooner had I finished than second bottles were handed to each of us. We kept going, and Macy had been in the frat house for no more than 10 minutes by the time we’d emptied four beer bottles each down our throats, the liquid on its way to bloat out our enormous bladders. Macy strutted about the room with practiced ease, chatting with her sisters, showing no ill effects of the bladder bulge protruding from her midsection. She’d drunk enough to have any other girl hopping frantically for the toilet by now, if not already pissing themselves silly, but Macy was the Pee Queen, after all. Some of my brothers shot me a quick glance to confirm that I was still in good condition, and I waved them away with a smile. A little beer wasn’t going to get the best of me.
For about an hour or so, the crowd was watching each of us intently, looking for signs that one of us was about to explode. But it seemed that we were both far too well-trained for that, and slowly the rest of the students began returning to their dancing and drinking. By 11 pm, with no signs of the contest ending, Ashley and Jordan got together for a minute and agreed that the drinking needed to continue. This time I received both a bottle of beer and a large glass of water to combat the onset of drunkenness, and Macy was given the same. I could tell that she was annoyed that the contest was still continuing and that I had not been beaten yet, but she showed no hesitation at drinking down the additional beverages. I followed suit, and once emptied, both the bottle and glass were replaced, and so we each drank down our second beers and waters as well. Then we were allowed to get back to the party, with my frat brothers keeping a watchful eye on Macy for any signs of desperation, while her sisters were doing the same to me. I was still unaffected, but after about 20 minutes I could tell that this punch of liquid had hit Macy’s bladder. It was bulged out more than ever, and she was now walking just a bit stiffly and rocking ever so slightly on her heels when she stood still to chat with someone. Macy hadn’t had a relief in over 17 hours, so she was certainly living up to her name as the Pee Queen, but I expected the contest to end fairly soon now. But as the clock’s hands circled around again and hit midnight, Macy was no worse than she’d been 40 minutes prior, and I overheard her telling a girlfriend, “Lars seriously thinks he can compete with me! What a joke! I tell you, I wouldn’t even dream of pissing right now. A girl can hold it when she has to!” After a further hour, Ashley and Jordan again brought each of us two beers and two glasses of water, and Macy gave me a long stare this time before downing the beverages. By now I felt that I could definitely pee, but it was no problem at all to keep it in, and I could tell that I still held the advantage. By 2 am Macy’s bladder had bloated out well over the waistband of her skintight jeans, and a sour look was stuck on her face at all times. The pressure of 20 hours of pee was making itself known inside her aching bladder, but Macy’s resolve was still too strong, and she continued to act normally despite the flood brewing within her.
By 4 am the party had died down, and even the sorority sisters and frat brothers were losing steam. Taking stock of their champions, it was determined that neither Macy nor I was in any position to give up the contest, and so it was proposed that we get to bed and resume things in the morning, with no before bed peeing and no morning pee. Just saying such a thing out loud seemed like madness to the normal-bladdered people in the room, but I agreed and Macy gave a grim nod as well. To prevent any cheating, we both ended up sleeping in one of the double rooms that two of my brothers were gracious enough to lend us for the night. I could tell that Macy was having some trouble dealing with the pressure in her bladder as she tried to relax herself to sleep, but when I started to bring it up she snapped, “Don’t even try it. I’ll outhold you! I’m the Pee Queen and I can always hold it longer! You haven’t even seen close to my limits – to what I’m capable of!” With Macy’s words ringing in my ears, we both drifted off to sleep. The next morning I awoke to increased, but still easily manageable, pressure in my bladder. I turned to the adjacent bed and saw that Macy was stirring as well, and as she rolled over, the covers gave way and I got a glimpse of her bladder, bulging massively over her thin white panties. It was a wonder that the girl’s shorter sphincter muscle had held firm through the night, but Macy opened her eyes and glared at me from across the room, and I knew we weren’t finished yet.
It was 9 am, meaning we were each holding in 27 hours of pent up pee, and as Macy dressed, it was clear she was uncomfortable. She was making brief pauses, maybe half a second, in between each movement, a clear sign that she was having to focus some of her energies and concentration on keeping her bladder in check, rather than moving with her normal sense of ease. Beyond a dull ache in my abdomen, I still felt fine, as I was used to holding much more for much longer periods of time than this. The sour look was back on Macy’s face as we went down together to greet the rest of our group. Macy’s sisters had showed up at the crack of dawn, going on only a few hours of sleep in a bid to support their champion. Neither the fraternity brothers nor the sorority sisters seemed able to believe that the contest was still going on, or that both Macy and I appeared as calm as we did after going more than a full day without a bathroom break, but each party agreed that it was because they hadn’t expected the opposing champion to last this long. The sorority still had complete faith in Macy, judging by the looks of envy and compassion they were giving in her direction, just as the fraternity still had confidence in me. We sat for breakfast, and Ashley and Jordan had the bright idea of speeding along the contest by providing us each with a beer to go along with our multiple cups of coffee and orange juice. Neither of us refused the additional liquids, though Macy was casting her eyes in my direction every couple of minutes, searching in vain for signs of bladder fatigue. When I stared back, I could see the signs growing from her. She was shaking a leg every so often, sometimes crossing it over her other leg, sometimes tapping her feet. Her morning bladder was giving her problems and she was doing everything she could to prevent it from being obvious to onlookers. Her sisters hadn’t noticed, and it seemed it was only I that caught on to her increased desperation.
After a further two hours and a further pint of beer failed to determine a winner, one of the sorority sisters had the bright idea to have us go into the city and spend the day there, to get us moving and active and speed the contest along. Macy shot the girl a glance that could freeze water in the desert, but the aloof girl didn’t realize and chatted merrily to her friends about her great suggestion. We took the public buses into the city, Macy and I accompanied by a good dozen of the ranking members of our houses, and began to roam the streets. Macy’s eyes searched the skyline for a distraction, and I ran mine up and down her body every few minutes, searching for more signs that she was cracking. She’d needed to stop a few times on the pretext of readjusting her heels, but I noticed her reaching one hand behind her back when she bent down to reach around and cup her vagina from the rear, giving herself a quick squeeze to help with her composure. It was a practiced move, I was sure, one that she’d perfected after many public holds, and surely one that she wouldn’t use unless the situation was becoming dire. As the clock reached and passed noon, the strain on Macy’s face was evident, as 30 hours of piss holding were taking their toll on her feminine body. Though my pressure was building as well, it was nowhere near as bad as hers, and I felt in total control of the load I was containing.
We stopped at a cafe for lunch, and Macy grumbled to herself when the waitress placed a large soda in front of her. I had gotten one, and thus Macy was forced to order the same, despite her bladder crying for a respite from the heavy drinking load. Her sisters were still oblivious to her growing desperation, as they chit-chatted absentmindedly about how they were going to win our money and “show up the boys once again”. I finished my meal and drink and gave a sarcastic smile to Macy, whose glass was still half-full. She returned fire with a rotten look of her own, before downing the rest of her soda in defiance and clenching the glass so hard in her fist that I thought she might break it. But then a particularly hard bladder spasm hit her, and Macy was forced to relinquish her hold on the glass so that she could cross her legs over one another and squirm for relief. Then we were up, continuing our tour of the city, moving at a slightly slower pace than in the morning, because Macy was no longer walking with the same energy she had earlier. Her body was beginning to plead for surrender, her considerable limits no longer appearing to be as limitless as she had proclaimed them to be, but Macy was true to her word – she was not a quitter. She steeled herself with resolve I didn’t know she possessed, and we continued onward without her showing any further signs of need. Finally, when street lights began to turn on due to darkness, close to 7 pm, we all boarded buses back to campus, this time arriving at the sorority house around 8.
Macy and I were now containing 38 hours of piss in our overstretched bladders, and while I could still hold more in my prodigious male bladder, I wasn’t as confident in my female opponent. Soon after returning to the sorority house, Macy had begun to shake her legs more pointedly, and now people were noticing. Worse, she was not immediately able to stop this motion on command. She was also walking more stiffly than ever, bending forward slightly to accommodate her enormous bladder, which was now bulging ridiculously outwards in front of her. The swell of her abdomen reached to her navel, her fit abs now hidden behind a painfully full bladder in need of release. The girls were beginning to whisper, with the Pee Queen looking quite in need of peeing, while I was still able to get by with showing only minimal signs of need. “You won’t beat me – this girl isn’t peeing before you do. Not a single drop is coming out, do you understand??” Macy said suddenly, and while her posture was directed at me, I got a sense that she was saying the words as much to her rebelling bladder as to me. Some of my brothers got us snacks and beers to wash them down, and while Macy looked like the last thing she wanted to do on this earth was drink the beer, she saw me swallowing mine down and did the same. Soon after I detected a frantic wave of desperation overtake Macy, but instead of giving in, the girl shut her eyes, tensed herself as hard as she could, pouring all of her concentration into bladder control, and after 30 seconds she was able to ease up and continue holding. Again, I was impressed by her steadfast desire to remain in the contest. Her willpower was such that I was sure she would not give in until her muscles were completely overwhelmed and the choice was out of her hands.
We drank beer after beer as evening turned into night, our brothers and sisters cheering us on. Macy appeared unwilling to continue with each emptied bottle, but whenever I would ask for another from a mate, she would grit her teeth and follow suit. Our bladders appeared so full it was obscene, the unnatural orbs encompassing the whole of our abdomens. We were overhydrated to the point that I could nearly feel the new beer piss streaming into my stretched out tank mere minutes after it was drunk. Macy’s concentration had become so intense to combat her dire need to urinate that I detected a vein throbbing on her forehead when her hair was parted just so. Beer number 6 was completed at 11 pm, and shortly thereafter Macy let out a frustrated, pained shriek as her bladder cramped painfully, trying to force out its overdue load. Macy had no choice but to double cross her legs and jam her fingers into her groin, kneading her pussy for a full minute before shakily removing her hands. To my surprise, she was still dry. Macy’s sorority sisters were now chattering more frequently, becoming truly fearful of defeat in this battle of champions. My frat bros, on the other hand, were gloating incessantly amongst each other, as my incredible bladder was full, but I was still quite far from the desperation on display from my rival. As Macy began to pee dance, her control wavering, I caught a glimpse of her blown out bladder, and it was now so large and stretched that the skin of her lower belly was turning a light pink. Her female body, however powerful, was being pushed further than it could handle, her weaker sphincter unable to deal with the boundless pressure, while my strong male body was still able to adequately cope.
Somehow Macy struggled onward, and by midnight she had yet to concede. However, both her sorority sisters and my frat brothers were exhausted, feeling the effects of such a late night the day before. And so the party finished, and for the second night, Macy and I retired to a bedroom unrelieved. When we entered the room and shut the door, I turned to find Macy marching in place to maintain what little control she had left over her short sphincter muscle. “Look, your bladder is simply containing too much, whether you want to admit it or not. It’s clear who is winning this, and it’s the same as every other time we’ve done this,” I told her with exasperation creeping into my voice. Macy shot me a deadly look, but she could not stop marching as she spat back, “I don’t care how I look right now! I WILL hold it! I’m stronger than you, you’ll see! It’s impossible, I can’t lose control!” With a monumental effort, the girl stopped her pee dance and stood straight, sweat now pouring down her face, her bladder just totally maxed out in her abdomen. And so we got into bed, and while I fell asleep within minutes, I could only imagine how much sleep Macy would manage to get, such was her complete inability to relax, lest she flood the room with stinking piss.
I was awakened by the combination of my throbbing bladder, and an incessant rustling coming to my side. With bleary eyes, I checked my phone – 6 am. 48 hours without a piss, and I could now say that I really needed one. All the beers were making my bladder ache. But that rustling….I turned my head and saw Macy, against all odds still dry, but positively writhing next to me, kicking her legs and pulling full force on her panty-clad vagina with both hands. Her face was streaked in sweat, her body covered in it, her hair matted against her forehead, and she stared back at me with wild, unfocused eyes. “Caaaaan’t hold iiiiiiitttttt…...” she moaned pathetically, and yet she continued to do just that. She continued to deny her female body the one thing it wanted more than anything else, which was to hose down the entire room with what was surely a gallon of pent up piss. I was certain that when she erupted, her stream would be similar to a bathtub faucet. I muttered this imagery to her, eliciting a long moan and more frantic kicking, her enormous bladder quivering. It appeared to be made of iron, as despite Macy’s rapid movement, the unfathomable bulge in her abdomen remained as still as a rock. I was sure it was twice as hard, but I was also sure that touching it may have dire consequences. What was not made of iron, however, was Macy’s bladder sphincter muscle. While it was a good imitation, as it had to have been for her to last 48 hours with an unspeakable amount of drinking, now the facade of the girl who never needed to pee was broken, with Macy needing both hands and as much frantic movement as she could muster to provide the necessary backing for her twitching, nearly unclenching sphincter. The muscle was exhausted by yesterday afternoon, having to work overtime and overload to hold her mammoth piss at bay. By now, 48 hours after we began this dreaded contest, exhausted did not properly describe it. Emaciated. Fatigued. Debilitated. Her bladder sphincter, for all is strength, was pure and simply done.
I sat up with a groan and started putting my jeans on over the boxers that I’d slept in. “Ready to call it quits yet?” I asked in a sighing tone. Macy shot me a glare so fierce I nearly recoiled, but she could only hold her gaze for a second before another wave of bladder agony ripped through her. With a muffled scream, she followed my lead in standing from the bed, and despite having one leg crossed over the other so far that she was leaning almost parallel to the floor, she began trying to slide some shorts on over her panty-clad bum. She got them on, tried to stand straight, and immediately doubled over like she’d been shot with a cannonball. ‘No,’ I reasoned to myself, ‘the cannonball in her abdomen is just her overloaded bladder.’ Macy’s face was beet red, holding with all of her power, shaking from the effort. “I’ve…...I’ve worked so hard…..” her voice came out as a whisper. I could barely hear her, and it seemed only fitting to bless my ears with my rival’s admission of defeat. And so I walked stiffly over to her, inwardly admiring the intensely swollen state she’d managed to drive her bladder to achieving. ‘Pretty damn good for a girl,’ I had to admit to myself. I leaned in, bringing my face closer to both hers and her behemoth of a bladder, due to her doubled over position. Both hands were grasping between her legs to provide any semblance of control, but her fingers and thighs were quivering uncontrollably. “I’ve…...I’ve tried…….I built my reputation on this…….on always being able…...to hold it. The girls…..they respected me…….they looked up to me. And now…...YOU…..ALWAYS YOU…..you’re going to ruin it for me…...I want to so badly…….but I…..I can’t hang on…...I’m going to piss….” There it was. The admission I wanted came succinctly from Macy’s stuttering lips. The admission she’d never even made when we were growing up. The admission that I could outhold her. It was a triumphant moment.
And yet…..as I looked at Macy, nearly in tears from the effort she was putting forth and the emotion of knowing what this defeat meant to her, I felt no triumph. No joy. It was a hollow victory. And so I stood in indecision for a minute, never letting my eyes leave Macy and her crumbling control. Harder she grasped, harder she fought, but her bladder was now at the point where it NEEDED relief. Peeing was necessary and there was no other option. “Gahhhhhhhh!” Macy whimpered as the strongest bladder contraction yet washed over her. She withstood it, somehow, on will alone, but a second later her bladder was rocked with another one, and another. It had reached the absolute limits of its capacity, and from her shorts I saw a droplet of urine break through and crash to the floor. Then another. And another. Her hands were still pressed against her crotch as tight as a vice, but the droplets became a pitter-patter. In another few seconds it was a soft stream. Macy’s face was now red not only from effort but from embarrassment, and from shame. She had lost. And in that moment, I took pity on her, and I knew what I had to do. Without even taking my pants down, I let go of my hold over my own iron bladder, and a torrent of piss began to spurt forth, soaking my pants in seconds and pooling on the floor around me. I was still staring directly at Macy’s face, and I could see her blink a few times in confusion at the puddle that was now creeping closer to her feet. But then the sound of my release overwhelmed her senses and with another “Ughhhhh!” the dam broke and Macy’s piss began to rocket out of her in earnest. Our two floods ran forth and mixed in an instant, the amount of piss we had contained in our bodies surpassing any normal healthy amount. After perhaps 30 seconds, Macy had recovered enough from the orgasmic feelings of relief coursing through her body to ask me, “…….What are you doing?…..” It was such an innocent, genuinely confused question, and for a moment it was difficult to keep from chuckling at the thought of just standing and making normal conversation with my great rival, all the while piss continued to flow freely from us and spread across the floorboards. And so I told her, “Macy…….this means more to you than to me. So you can win. Tell them I pissed myself as soon as I woke up, and then you pissed right next to me to show just how much bigger your bladder is. You’re the Pee Queen.”
And with that, I cut my flow, having thoroughly drenched everything from the waist down, and walked towards the bedroom door. I grabbed the doorknob, but before turning it, I craned my neck back to the direction of Macy. Her mouth was hanging open, still not believing the situation in front of her and the sacrifice of pride I had just made. Piss still leaving her body at a rapid pace and no indication of when her mammoth bladder would finally empty out for good. And I whispered one final thing, “But so you know…….I’m still the Long Pisser, and I think I’m entitled to a rematch down the road….” My eyes stayed on her a second longer, just enough time to see her lips mouthing “Thank you” as she continued to gaze at me in glassy astonishment. And then I turned to face the world for the first time in a new way – as a man who had wet himself. Who had lost control of his bladder. Who came in second place in a holding contest. I took a breath and threw open the door. In the living area of the sorority house, I found a few members of my frat, still passed out from the night of drinking. It was devilishly early, but it was what it was. So I roused them, and when their eyes got wide and confused at the sight of my sopping pants, I told them curtly, “I lost. Couldn’t hold it. Turns out she’s the Pee Queen after all. Come on, let’s go. We’re gonna have to start raising money as soon as possible to cover all the beer these girls drink in a semester.’ With my pants dripping urine behind me, the frat guys all left that morning with bleary eyes. I left technically as a loser, but as we walked down the road, I heard a faint, high pitched cheer coming from the awakening girls in the sorority house, no doubt having been informed of the victory of Macy – the Undefeated Pee Queen, and I decided I’d never felt more at peace with losing. |
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